The Living Room

I've wanted to post this blog for a long time! We worked hard at getting our living room in good condition when we first moved in, and we finally got it to a place that we're happy with. I am so lucky to have such an artistic, creative partner. Here are the fruits of our labors:

Our living room started out with this beautiful grey-blue paint. Lindsay helped us pick it out:


We recovered our poop-brown chair with cool fabric from Urban, turned our mirror sideways and added a lamp/table.


We have to give some credit where credit is due- to Eric. He found this lamp on Craigslist and it is amazingly perfect. It matches all of our colors and lines and metals- and it's functional and stylish. Good job, honey.


We have awesome inlet shelves near the kitchen. We put some cool crap in there so people can see how neat we are.

These shelves are right above Eric's computer station (I wasn't allowed to take pictures of it for this blog since his bangs weren't did). Some cool features include the initials we painted, the candle holders and orange vase from West Elm, and the huge wooden pillar things we got mega-cheap from Pottery Barn. Gotta love those sales.


Pillows! Urban Outfitters, How I Love Thee:


We bought these circular mirrors because we had visions of being the first cool people to have a set of circular mirrors on their wall. Then we saw about 10,000 other people with them, so I used some scraps from the ottoman fabric and made this frame/art thing. The plant is from Ikea and the phone table is from Mary Roellke. Love that lady.


Accent lamps from Ikea. Oh-so-chic. Brown curtains! We were thinking of doing a pattern, but sometimes you have to know when to say when.


My favorite project. I got a template for paper flowers from a local Paper Source store, and then modified it and bought more paper to fit my needs. These flowers are so fun to make... and look freaking sweet.


Another project (remember, I was basically unemployed for two months!) was this TV stand. Eric had this old, crapper of a stand he got at a thrift store. I repainted it, added some of our wall paint to the bottom shelf for good measure, and then spray-adhesived (my most favorite thing) a decorative kitchen towel to the top. It looks so fun! The lamp is one we already had, but put that cool shade on the top. I salvaged it from a yard sale.


This coffee table was another vintage find. We stained the wood to match our end tables. The coasters are from West Elm and the organic, free form wood bowl is from Home Goods. Honeys, if you haven't hit your local Home Goods store, get off the couch and go NOW. It's like, the Ross or Marshalls of home furnishings.


Then, of course, the ottoman (with strangely expensive orange wool fabric) and the pillow we got from Urban:


So here she is, in all her HGTV-inspired glory. There's still more to be done, but we've gotten comfy with what we have. Ah, yes. Also, please excuse/note our Christmas deco! We couldn't take it down for these pictures. It's just a bit, but just enough for us. Happy Holidays, from our Living Room!

Artichoke Preparedness

We just boil those big poppa's. We boil them until the leaves near the stem can be pulled off really easily. Or until the stem is almost smooshy. It's not hard. It's easy. Those big ones took almost 45 minutes! Holy crap.

Artichoke Awesomeness

That's going in our bellies tonight. We ate his brother last night, and he was meaty and delicious. Mmmm.

Snow Day

The snow stopped falling late last night. The schools closed, however, so I was out of a job today. Eric and I slept in a little bit, worked on some things for a few hours and then braved the extreme cold to run errands. Our first order of business was eating- we had been out late last night at the Sara Bareilles concert and ate afterwards, but it was early afternoon at this point and we hadn't eaten a thing. We wanted breakfast, so we finally found a place that was still serving at 2 pm and was walking distance from a tram stop. We stepped gingerly down the road, choosing our footholds carefully. It was icy, icy, icy. Finally we made it to the restaurant to discover:





We ate until we couldn't talk. Partook of delicious eggy goodness and pigs in a blanket that would make your head spin.
Then we hit the post office, a toy store, Urban Outfitters and Zupan's. Our arms laden with groceries, we trekked up the hill and finally settled back into our warm place, happy and exhausted. My calves are killing me, the artichoke is in the pot, boiling, and I look out the window on a white-laced city with a smile tonight.

Snow

I have another blog to post- out of order- but this one can't wait.
It's snowing today in Portland, Oregon. We woke up to a flurry coming down and the temperature's dropping, which means it's gonna stick. Here's a picture and a video to help describe:

NaNoWriMo No Mo

It's over! Amazing. I completed the NaNoWriMo Challenge. For those of you who don't know what it is, I will tell you! Starting November 1st, writers across the nation join together to write a novel within 30 days. There are no rewards, prizes, or accolades given if you complete the task. Your finished novel is not submitted for review or reading. It's simply a way to motivate blocked writers across the country to write! I have written before about my inability to focus on writing for the last few years. Since my heart is no longer stripped, stamped and hung out in the wind, I haven't had any good material. Or, I haven't had any good motivation to write, since my primary drive before was to cleanse myself of painful memories and ideas.

NaNoWriMo was awesome. I spent the whole month writing! Hating, half the time, what I was doing, and finding that my once carefully constructed writing voice was hidden. I used to be so good at writing! I did it all the time. I was practiced. Even more so, I found it hard to create plot points, since I was used to writing short stories and not novel plots.

I have a lot of editing to do. The one luxury not afforded to NaNoWriMoers is that of editing. You have to just produce. I had to do one little bit of editing along the way, but for the most part it is just poetic vomit. There is a lot of cleaning up to do. With so much material (50,000 words!) I know I have the makings of a good story. I just have to craft it now.

I promise to post good parts when I have them.

I really love writing.

NaNoWriMo

is taking up all my time. Here is an excerpt:

Jordan laughs and laughs. She has a really nice laugh, one that is not too noisy or shrill, but still makes you want to join her. She also has an easy way of talking, listening carefully to what you say, but always responding quickly. Her face is interesting, not just a normal, boring face. She has those heavy lids, thick lips. She doesn’t wear too much makeup. Enough to make you look at her with purpose, but not so much that you can’t tell what she really looks like. She has watercolor eyes, liquid and moving. A button nose, turned up a little. High cheeks. She’s good looking, and people notice her. Not just because of the dreads. We walk out the back exit to the bar and she leans up against the brick wall, wet with rain. I hold her against the wall and put my hands on her high cheeks.
“You are adorable.”
“I am ethnic looking.”
“You are.” I kiss her, and it’s actually not as sloppy as it should be. She keeps her tongue close to her lips. “You are very good looking.”
“Well, yes. It’s the eyelids.” She closes her eyes and raises her eyebrows, showing her perfectly spaced eyeliner dots.
“You ready to go home?”
“Almost.” She leans in again, this time pulling me down by my neck. She kisses me along my neck, my ear, then gives me a couple closed-mouth kisses on my cheek. “Yes. Now we can go.”
When we get into my place, she has not forgotten the séance, as I hoped she might. She rummages around in my junk drawer and finds a few votive candles. She lights them on my coffee table, and I get some plates from the kitchen to set them on. No need for waxy residue. We look up séance online and find some hints about how to make them safe, but both of us are shaky, drunk, and can’t stay focused on the tips. We sit facing each other across the coffee table.
“Okay, now you say something about wanting to talk to the spirits.”
“No way. This is your deal. I am here for support. You have to talk to them.”
“It’s your building!”
“…”
“Fine. Spirits, we come to you in peace. We want to talk to you and ask you questions about yourselves. We want to see your scary spirit faces and tell you to go home.”
“That’s it. I’m sure that’s gonna make them come.”
Jordan giggles and holds her hands out closes her eyes.
“You do it, too.”
I do the same.
“If there is anyone here tonight, we want to talk to you. We want to hear what you have to say. We can help you move on.”
I can see the flicker of the candlelight through my closed eyelids. I can feel Jordan’s hands, resting in mine, twitch a bit in anticipation. It’s warm in my apartment. Jordan asked me to turn on the heater.
“Spirits, come to us. We are here for you to speak with. Come join us.”
This goes on for a few minutes. Jordan stops talking and I peek open my eyes to look at her. She has her eyes closed. I feel a little breeze and wonder if I’ve left the window cracked open. I turn to look and in a flash I see the girl from the laundry room, standing near the window, looking out.
“Whoa!” I pull my hands back from Jordan.
“What? What? Did you see something? What happened?” Jordan is on her feet now.
“No, nothing.” I look back at the windows and nothing is there. “This is too freaky, I think we’re forcing it. We should do this when we’re sober or something.”
“Did you see something?”
“No.”
“Yes, yes you did, I can tell by looking at you, you saw something! And I felt something cold, I did.”
“No, you did not. And I did see something, but it was a woman who lives in this building, on this floor. I just fooled myself. It’s nothing.”
Jordan lies down on the ground.
“Damnit. I thought we were getting somewhere.”
I crouch down beside her on the ground. She looks very symmetrical in the candlelight. She opens her eyes and looks at me.
“Thank you for having a séance in your house, Andrew. It was very nice of you.”
“I’m a nice guy.”
“I hope you’re not too nice.”

Jose from Cuba

Subbing gets me all worked up. Sometimes it is the blatant disregard for authority that illicits this response. Sometimes it's the excitement of teaching. Sometimes it's the thrill of a new subject, or the humor of the kids.

Today, I'm all worked up again, but this time it is the innocent, pure goodness of a little boy that's done it to me.

First of all, after class had started, Jose looked at me (truly with big brown eyes) and asked, "Have you ever met a Cuban person before?" When I replied that I hadn't, he smiled and said, "You just did!"

After about 10 minutes of working on an assignment, he walked up to my desk with a paper full of errors. We sat together and worked through each question. One talked about "ethnic unrest" and he looked very confused. I said, "You know, Jose, how sometimes Mexican people don't get along with white people, or white people don't like blacks, that kind of thing." His face grew horrified and he said, "So soon?" and then corrected himself to say, "Still, I mean? People are still like that?" When I said that unfortunately, there are still people in the world who are prejudiced and racist, he shook his head sadly and continued his work.

He truly believed that this kind of division in the world had disappeared. If we can make all our children believe that, and truly live it, I guess there's still hope. Little Jose from Cuba, thank you. Today you made me feel like our world isn't a total lost cause.

PS OBAMA/BIDEN '08!!

Honesty.

Just a little blurb about honesty in relationships- this is something I learned the hard way.
Honesty doesn't just mean being honest about the crap you do wrong in a relationship. If you're used to lying and you decide to be truthful all of a sudden, that's great. Really. However, that's not enough. It's not enough to just be honest about the things you have done wrong, or the things you don't like.
I think that's the main point. Of course it takes courage to tell someone when something that they do doesn't sit well with you. It takes courage to have a voice in a relationship and be strong enough to express that.

Honesty is more than that. When people say you have to be honest in a relationship, it means being honest about everything. When you're in need, feeling generous, feeling amorous, feeling cranky, hungry, sad, happy, pretty, ugly, fat, creative- you have to fill the other person in. Don't misunderstand me. I do not mean to say that partners should inundate each other with senseless, menial details about their lives. Some things are better left unsaid- if they are without consequence. (That whole concept is a blog in and of itself, and one I am not going to write tonight) If you feel strongly about something, and the other person can help, it's only fair to include them in on the secret.

It's not always easy and sometimes I want to be the "cool" girlfriend, the one who doesn't care about anything, doesn't need to express herself for fear of being the irrational, overemotional crazy person. But really, if I don't say what's on my mind, all those moments of silence rack up inside my heart and eventually I become that person anyway. Instead, chipping away little moments as they come- being honest without being confrontational- ease the burden.

Excuses and Grey Skies

Even though today is one of the rare blue-skied October mornings here in the Pacific Northwest, my post today is about grey skies and clouds. I remember when I first lived here, the colorless skies were a welcome addition to my tortured artist outlook. I can also recall before I left California, letting my skin soak up extra sunshine because I was so afraid that I would never see it again.

The last week has brought rain. Wind, clouds, a serious chill in the air. Eric and I have both brought out our winter clothes, donning jackets and hats, scarves and tights (moreso me on the tights- Eric only wears them inside, on Sundays). Walking down to my car in the subbasement of our building even requires an extra layer. I expected that I would start feeling depressed. I expected that I'd long for the sun, want to claw out my eyes at the sight of grey. That I'd somehow not be able to handle things. I guess I sort of wanted to chicken out- and the weather was an easy excuse.

No excuses, though. Not anymore. No more, "I don't have a man." No more, "Well, I live in Fresno. I can't possibly flourish." No more, "I don't know what to do with my life." There are no more excuses! I am where I want to be, emotionally, geographically, soulfully. I'm here. And, ain't no grey skies gonna mess with that.

The Routine

When we first came up here, I freaked out pretty regularly about my lack of things to do. It wasn't that I didn't have boxes to unpack, rooms to decorate, family to visit and drawers to organize. I did have those things. It wasn't that I was emotionally void- I had plenty of things to think about and concern my brain with. Even when I had schools to visit and applications to fill out, there was something missing from my life that has only recently emerged.

My monthly calendar.

For the entire month of July my book was empty, minus the trip to Fresno we took for my birthday. Literally- empty.



I've been subbing a ton recently, which is both satisfying emotionally and financially. I'm still working my restaurant job, too, which is fine (side note- every restaurant is made up of the same cast of characters. the attractive, jerky boy. the sweet talking religious nut. the ditzy, booby blonde. the anal older server. every place has the same people working there. weird!) but doesn't bring me much money. With these two jobs, my schedule book is gloriously full.



I'm back to my old self- checking my schedule several times a day. Erasing and re-writing events. Counting and recounting my sub days and calculating my money. Highlighting certain kinds of events and underlining others.

I love my schedule. I love my calendar. I love having a purpose.

One Down

First, let me preface this blog by saying that I have applied for over 120 teaching jobs here in Portland. I have not received any responses from these applications- except for one. This school called me back after I walked into the school and handed a hard copy of my application to the office manager. I had an interview on Monday for the fourth grade position available at the school.

I felt the interview went well. I spoke well and represented myself accurately. They went with another candidate because I didn't have as much special education experience as the other candidate.

I am disappointed, I'm not going to lie. I had already started quitting my restaurant job and printing out "getting to know you" activities in my brain. I was planning out my first week of school outfits and paying my bills. However, I am still so happy for the opportunity. I was able to speak with REAL PEOPLE. Interview with them, and talk with them- I made connections. And I am happy for that.

Also, my restaurant job is getting a little bit better, making a little more money. I've been subbing a LOT, which is awesome. Now that I am making more money, I don't feel as frantic and horrible about not having a permanent teaching job. I am surviving. I am moving forward. I feel good about that.

Let's tackle the next 120...

Powell's

Clearly I am not good at writing as frequently as I would like. I'm working on a big post about our living room, and when I went to write it, I realized I wanted to wait until certain things are done- so I put it on a back burner and haven't been back. Anyway, Eric and I took an important trip today and I wanted to document it.

Our first trip to Powell's City of Books since we've been here. What have we been so busy doing that we haven't made it there yet? Oh well- we made it there today. Powell's is an entire city block packed full of books. There are three floors. AND- an entire separate store of technical books housed a few streets away. Incredible. Here is just one aisle:





Powell's has something overly magical about it. I don't know if it's the pure visual spectacle of literally a million books, carefully catalogued and organized, or if it's the smell, but walking into Powell's brings me excitement and peace. Satisfaction. I spent the first few seconds beelining my partner and myself into the Blue Room, which is the literature room. I never let myself down all the aisles, as that would ensure bankruptcy. I allowed myself a couple aisles and some endcaps and felt secure with my two choices: Nick Hornby's "How to Be Good" and Akhil Sharma's "An Obedient Father." I remembered that I still needed Vicki's book, having woefully not ordered it yet. We wandered into the Rose Room, which has educational books and parenting ones, too. I stumbled upon a book called "What We Believe but Cannot Prove" and I couldn't walk away from it. Different scientists and philosophers talk about the wonders of the world and why certain things simply beg for faith. I found "Love You to Pieces," a compilation of creative writers on raising children with special needs. My beloved friend, teacher, and mentor, Vicki, wrote the very first story in this amazing compilation. Vicki recently lost her son, Evan, who had special needs. Reading her story today had a sad depth to it. It made me remember that writing is more than what we can ever expect it to be- it belongs to the writer and the reader, and everyone on the periphery.

We left Powell's to meet a deluge of rain- our first of the year, really- and I looked out into that rain with a bit of nostalgia and longing, and also with a bit of maturity. More than I had the last time I watched rain fall on this city.

Hairbrained

I went to visit Dylan this week in Seattle.
Left my phone AND my hairdryer. Who am I?

If I Created Voice Recognition Software...

for text messaging, so people can text while they drive, I would definitely use certain noises to represent punctuation.
Spaces = smooch noise
Question Mark= "Huh?" (like, a low noise that goes up in pitch)
Period= lip smack
Exclamation Point= "Ay!"

Like that.

Food!

Since we've moved back to Portland, one of our big goals is to eat more healthy and work out.
Neither of these things has happened, of course. We've spent too much time exploring delicious restaurants full of burgers, pasta and desserts. We've tried hard to maintain perspective, but when presented with bread pudding and cream sauce, I can't say no! The best solution, of course, is to stay home and eat. This requires foresight. Happily, I have the time to put a little thought into my recipes, grocery lists, etc... so I do! Here are some things we've eaten in the last couple weeks:

1. Lime, Garlic and Honey Chicken- so easy and good! Grated lime peels and diced garlic sauteed with chicken tenders. Honey drizzled on at the end. Yum.
2. Chicken Tacos! Delicious and nutritious with lots of veggies inside. Lawry's Taco Seasoning, I love you and you remind me of home.
3. Stuffed Salmon- This one was a trick because we got fresh salmon and crab from the waterfront when visiting Pete's parents' condo. I used brie and fish rub with lump crab and sliced the salmon apart, stuffing it with the goodies! Then baked it.
4. Black and Blue Salad- The steak wasn't as black as it could have been, I didn't blacken it, but I just pan-fried it and put it in spinach, apples, tomatoes and bleu cheese dressing.
5. Pilaf- Thank you, Mary Roellke, for this deliciousness. Brown vermicelli (about a handful) in half a cup of butter, add a cup of rice and two and a half cups of chicken broth. Boil and then simmer for 20 minutes. SO GOOD. Since we're trying to be healthy, we've been using margarine. Not recommended. Butter is best :)
6. Feta Chicken! Who knew I could make stuff up? I cooked chicken bites in olive oil until they were about halfway done, then added fresh tomatoes and basil. Once the chicken was cooked all the way, I sprinkled a handful of feta cheese on top, then let it simmer for about 10 minutes. SO DELICIOUS. Flavorful and awesome. I think the trick was to use herb-inclusive feta.
7. Breakfast Bagels- I found this awesome spread at Elephant's Deli- roasted onion and gorgonzola cream cheese spread. Not the healthiest, but I think I redeemed this toasted bagel with (more) fresh tomatoes and basil. These bagels were so delish!


So basically, I feel happy to be creating something healthy and inexpensive for Eric and me to eat. It also gives me something to do when my mediocre serving job leaves me at home once again. (Boo!)

If anyone has awesome and healthy recipes, post them for me!

Consistency

I am going to try to write more frequently, and read more frequently. I'm a few chapters into Chuck Palahniuk's "Rant," which so far has proved just as maniacal, morbid and wonderful as his other books.

Another thing that has definitely sparked my inner drive to write and read was the recent rain. It so reminded me of my years here in the PNW before- my days of living with my uncle, reading so many books I can't even remember half of them, writing the novel... the rain was perfect for that lifestyle. When we drove out to see St. John's Bridge yesterday, we took a bunch of pictures in the clean sunlight, then went to grab a burger. As we looked out the window, rain fell like crazy! Huge droplets, splatting onto the window and pushing up clumps of dirt in the flowerbeds. It was awesome. I felt like writing.

So I now pledge to write at least three times a week. Come back and check me more often- I promise, there will be more.

Distractible

Here we are, finally settled into our town of Portland. We've done a very good job of exploring- the local bars, some cool hole-in-the-wall restaurants, best dessert places, fancy drinks and microbrews, walking and training, talking and singing, hanging out and letting it all hang out. We've done a good job, and now it's time for us to settle down and start our daily routines.

In Fresno, it seemed that our daily routine was overbearing, rude, almost caging- but necessary and soothing at the same time. I used to find great joy in looking at my schedule book (a routine sadly deserted since there is -literally- nothing in it anymore) and keeping all of our events and responsibilities in order. It was as though my identity was the controlling and managing of this schedule. Now, with the absence of school and two jobs... it seems that I am highly distractible.

Just the other day, within one day, I got a parking ticket, burned my arm on the iron, cut myself badly with my razor, and accidentally backed into someone else's car (didn't make a mark, luckily). It's almost as if I don't have enough on my brain! I need some stimulus. More than an awesome city and an apartment to decorate... I need some stability in my day. I need a routine! Who is this strange person talking? Rachel Roellke needs a - gasp- ROUTINE? She is the queen of flexibility, the princess of spontaneity- right? As it turns out, wrong!

I have come to a smooth conclusion this afternoon, while walking hand in hand with Eric to a local deli for lunch. We just moved here. A routine takes time to develop and tweak. Jobs take a while to find. In the meantime, I am going to focus on enjoying this freedom as much as I can.

Urban Dictionary Entries

Eric and I looked up our names on Urban Dictionary. Here's what we got:

We each got two noteworthy entries.

Rachel: The most edible female name.
Rachel: A smart, sassy and sexy young woman who knows things from fashion to film to literature, from Manolo Blahniks to Mahatma Gandhi.
"She impressed everybody in the meeting. She's such a Rachel."

Eric:The most amazing person in the entire universe. Everything about him is perfect! He's charming, handsome, intelligent, strong, romantic, funny...everything you want in a guy. It's impossible not to fall in love with him! Once you lay eyes on him, you will know from that very moment that you will never stop loving him.

Eric: A term used to describe a mentally retarded cat that has the ability to fly by moving its tail in a circular motion. Once in the air, erics are known to land ontop of statues to catch and eat birds. Once they get the taste of blood, they turn into a form of vampire and attack fat people.

I am so HGTV

My little sis Emily (and my mom) graciously gave us her old dresser when we moved up to Portland. It was a neutral butter yellow and had some nice white knobs. However, I've been watching a lot of HGTV and I needed to exercise some of my new skills (because if you watch it on TV, you know how to do it). I painted the sucker a nice mint green, antiqued it (that was no fun! it was harder than you'd think and I actually had to use some artistic flair. hint: it is ALL about the wetness of your paper towel/dabbing device) and then we figured we were done.



Then Eric and I took a step back and realized it needed some more pizzazz. We went to Michael's, bought some supplies, tried out some stenciling (bad pick of stencils, turned out to look like an O'Neill ad), and settled on some wooden shapes. These puppies were ornate, well-sized, and loved our paint/antique treatment. We glued them on lickety split and here's what we got:



aaaaaaaand, the closeup:




I think we'll be Vern Yip and Paige Davis for Halloween.

Also... though out of order...

Check out my second post on Yuppie Manor: 

www.yuppiemanor.com

Portland.

We made it! Eric and I are officially in Portland. It doesn't seem quite real yet, since we're still living with my uncle Tim for the time being. It's very surreal. Mostly for Eric, since this move is to a place he doesn't have much experience with. It's a little easier for me, of course, since I have friends here, and a history. Regardless, we are absorbing beautiful, clear days of sunshine and breeze. We have driven easily down evergreen laced highways and wound our way through high-rise brick buildings. Today, we ate fresh sushi in the industrial/chic part of Portland  (the Pearl District, or if you're hip, simply "the Pearl") and read plaques on the sides of historical buildings. But hey, it hasn't all been metropolitan meandering and summertime living. 

We have spent hours- literally- on Craigslist poring over apartment listings. Checking Google maps for location and street view (360 cameras make it easy to spot crappy empty lots nearby or overcrowded parking situations). Both together and separately we have seen about 10 apartments and driven by dozens. I've called probably 30 different properties and we've seen less than 10. We've seen the crappiest, the weirdest (Murphy beds and ancient wall-mounted phones?) and the most spectacular (view of Mt. Hood and brand new everything- comes with a gigantic price tag). 

We've found some very reasonable in-betweeners, nicely maintained older buildings with character and unique details. We'll get our dream place, if it kills us. It takes time (which Eric doesn't have and which I am not a fan of) and patience (HA) and a little bit of vision. That last part is what we both have plenty of- vision. We will make this Portland life into something daring, something smart and complex, colorful and clean. This is the beginning of something really, really good. We can smell it in the air.

I am a writer!

Check out the article I wrote on Yuppie Manor, a very cool new site spearheaded by Kimmie Raschka (now Sailor), a fellow USC writer and singer. 

Yuppie Manor

My article is about the big move (coming up here in less than a month!) and how it feels to grow up.

After you're done reading my article (at the bottom of the page, click to read it all), please peruse carefully the Yuppie Manor site- it's full of really interesting, relevant things about living the lives we lead.

Dental Implant

When I was a wee thing, dental x-rays showed that I was missing a permanent tooth. The stoic molar stayed with me until last December, when it started getting a little baby infection, and had to be pulled. Here is a photo essay showing all the steps.... 


Step 1- After my regular dentist pulled my tooth, the oral surgeon drilled a hole in the bone of my jaw and inserted a screw, which will eventually hold the fake tooth. This metal screw cover was in my mouth for more than two months while the screw integrated into my bone. It looked SWEET.

Step 2- When it had healed appropriately, I went back to the oral surgeon, who put in the steel post that will hold the tooth. Here are two pictures: one of the plastic thingy I had to wear on my ride to my dentist, and the steel post.

Step 3- My dentist had to put a LOT of goopy stuff in my mouth to make a bunch of molds of the surrounding teeth so they can make me a new one. I got to pick the color, too. COOL! The dentist gave me this cool white pencil eraser temporary cap. It looks totally weird. It will be my tooth until my fake one is finished being made.


Step 4- I finally got a real tooth two weeks later. It's a little bit lighter than my other teeth, but my dentist did that in case I want to bleach my teeth later on. It feels a little weird but it's way better than that pencil eraser I had in there before. That thing was a pain. This tooth feels smooth in the right places, jagged in the right places, and it's here to stay. Hooray!

Summertime

... and the livin is easy.
It's not fully summertime, since I can still touch the metal part of my seatbelt when I get into my car in the afternoon- but it's getting there. I can smell a little bit of grass in the air, and my summer skirts feel good on freshly shaved legs without any leggings. (By the way, I need brown leggings- anyone know of good ones that don't feel like nylons?) My honey and I walked back to our car last night after seeing Michael Buble (we know the band, no big deal) and the summer breeze was grazing our skin like a caress.

I love summer for so many reasons, but here are the top 6:

6. I get tan. I look skinnier and glowier with a tan.
5. My birthday!
4. Walking feels way better at night.
3. Sweet summer nights smell like Patsy Cline songs and watermelon.
2. Sleeping with chonies and a wifebeater on.
1. Otter Pops.

Here's a jazz/summertime joke for you:
How many female jazz singers does it take to sing "Summertime"?
... apparently all of them.

:)

To My Old Friend

To Amy:

We spent a lot of summer nights with three limes in our glasses and rosy cheeks. We fought the good fight, writing poetry about injustices and telling people they were wrong. We held tiny hands, and showed them we cared. You bought me thoughtful presents, like bird purses and voice recorders. I drove us everywhere in my new car.

It wasn't always roses and poems. The nights got longer and less rosy. My poetry turned to questions,  and you asked me hard ones, too. It got tight and flustered, and we both found new places to walk to. One night, I rode the line too hard, and you saw it. You drove yourself away on the bald wheels of your car, and I let you.

I'm sorry. Have I said that before? 

I always meant to call you again.

You pleaded with me to make time.

I typed my apologies a thousand times, and sent you two.

I waited and thought of your laugh. I hoped, I really did. 

Then today, a breath. You signed it, "take care, friend."

Our cheeks still as rosy, with no more limey residue,  maybe we can still save the world.

Thank you for writing to me.

Gratitude is one of the more inarticulate emotions, but I always like to try.

Thank you. 

Discovery Channel

I really feel like I need to discuss the Discovery Channel. I truly hate television, and Eric and I have gotten to the point where we really watch too much. Like, more than one program a night. NOT OKAY. I grew up on no TV, and I turned out fine. I should not be watching so much.

HOWEVER.

I LOVE THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL. My favorite show is easily Dirty Jobs. Mike Rowe is super funny, there's gross stuff all the time, but mostly I like the message. There are people out there who do some seriously nasty stuff to keep our world all shiny and clean. And honestly, most of the people who Mike sees have a smile on their face. Good times.

Free Credit Report commercials. If you've seen them, you know why. 

I really like Cash Cab- it's a normal version of Jeopardy. Ben Bailey is getting funnier and funnier, too. Plus, I keep waiting to see someone I know on there. I know enough people in New York. It should happen pretty soon.

Lastly, DC is one channel away from Animal Planet (Animal Cops!) and two away from TLC and HGTV. I have to watch those two when Eric's not around, but I do some major vicarious living with those people who get to decorate. Someday, I hereby declare, I will truly decorate a room. And it will be sweet. 

So, though I have abandoned my moral standing in regard to television watching, at least I'm still snobby about it.

The Fear Factor

I am back from a grueling week and a half away from home. Eric and I went to Portland for the job fair (very successful... lots of good connections!) and then to LA for the Sirens Reunion Concert, where I got to beatbox live for the first time since... well, since I was at SC.

Visiting LA makes me think long and hard about what success is. I had a period of time shortly following school where I had decided that if I could nail down my definition of "art," I would be successful. Though I fought long and hard for that success, and even came close to defining my artistic voice, I didn't feel successful. Then I thought that if I could get a man, I would be successful. I certainly got a man, but it wasn't an accomplishment that could be measured by the word "success." 

I am confident in my career choice. I am healthy and loved. These are beautiful elements of luck and karma in my life. However, still not a measure of success.

My new idea is that success is something to be measured on a daily basis, and has a lot to do with happiness. I find myself being afraid of being happy, or of committing completely to the idea of a future. If from day to day, I can feel truly happy (since I obviously have plenty to be happy about), and eliminate little pieces of fear one by one, then I am successful. Progress versus accomplishment, that's my new measure. 

Don't forget, also: all you need is love.

Tiger Woods Golf and My Thoughts on Being Nervous

Tonight, after an excellent meat and potatoes sundae (seriously- go to Sequoia Brewery in the Tower and order the Sundae- with meat... so good) and a rousing workout, I literally have my feet up and a frosty beverage in my hand. The spring night is breezing through the open screen door. Eric and Benton are playing Tiger Woods '08. Eric got two hole in ones. No big deal.

We leave for Portland on Thursday- and I have a job fair next Tuesday. To Be a Teacher. I have my packets packed, my suit ready, and my interview questions practiced. It's funny- I am not a nervous person by nature, but I find myself a little clammy-palmed as the time approaches. This isn't some serving job, or marketing gig- this is going to be my CAREER. And though I may not spend my career in the first school I work, I am still beginning my ... CAREER.

I really couldn't be happier, as it turns out. Nervous is better than bored. 

And... I'm back!

Time to start over, so here I am. This post is just a test. More, oh, so much more, is coming...