On Letters and Things

In some respects I have old fashioned taste.  While I embrace the ways in which technology lets us communicate quickly and efficiently, I still love the old fashioned art of letter writing.  I love the feel of good paper and seeing ink on the page.  When I open a letter, I imagine the writer sitting down and thinking of me as they wrote. This fills me with joy.

 

When I have time, I love to make cards for friends and family by hand.  However, I admit that I don't do this as often as I would like, but I am usually glad when I take the time to do this.  Usually I opt for a collage technique.  Recently, I've enjoyed using scraps from an old wallpaper sample book my mom gave me. 

When I don't have time to make a card I love using cards from small letterpresses.  As we enter the new year, I've been thinking about stocking up for the upcoming birthdays and weddings in 2012.  Esty offers some lovely options.  Here are some of my favorites.

Berry Birthday from Smock.

"Congratulations on tying the knot" by Leland Manufactory

Cupcake Wrapper Letterpress Birthday Card from FINE DAY PRESS

Special Occasions Letterpress Variety Pack from ilee

I wish you all a letter-filled and joyous 2012.

All Etsy images from their respective owners.

Lost in Translation

Last week I decided to be brave and joined an online dating site. I've spent a few days poking around the site and felt generally inspired. Reading profiles is a entertaining and dangerous way to pass time. There was one profile that I couldn't help but linger over. The profile started normal: general likes and dislikes, background, what he's looking for, etc. He ended with this, saying "now for some humor:"

A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants. is
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want

A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.

A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.

To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot and love him a little.
To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.

Married men live longer than single men.
But married men are a lot more willing to die.

Any married man should forget his mistakes.
No sense two people remembering the same thing

Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.
Women somehow deteriorate during the night.

A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change and she does.

A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

Tip to guys creating profiles out there, sexist jokes aren't really that likely to make the ladies want to date you. Or at least not this lady.

Advice for an Uncle

My uncle often tells a story about the day of his high school graduation. He graduated from high school in the early sixties. As he was walking to the ceremony in his cap and gown, an elderly woman stopped him on the sidewalk to congratulate him. As he thanked her, she offered him a piece of advice. “Savor these times,” she said, “high school was the happiest time of my life.” He remembers mumbling thanks and walking away and then thinking to himself that this is the worst advice he has ever received.

My uncle laughs a lot when he tells this story. He remembers being scared for a second and wondering, “What if this was the best time of my life?” Then he laughs a little more. In his sixties now, he confidently says that each year has been better than the one before. I hope in my sixties I can say the same thing with just as much laughter.

I am old

This weekend I went to a housewarming party for some friends. Five young people renting a house with a fire-pit in the backyard, what could be better?

I arrived between 8:30 - 9:00pm; I hung out, ate some delicious food and chatted with people. Finally I started to feel sleepy, it seemed late. The party was still raging and beer pong was starting, but I was driving so I skedaddled thinking it was quite late. When I got in my car and looked at the time I saw it was only 10:30pm. I am officially an old person.

Doctor, doctor

Yesterday I went to the doctor. I saw a new doctor and as she was getting familiar with my chart, she piped up with, "Oh, I'm twenty-eight too!" The first thing that crossed my mind was, "Damn, what have I done with my life?" The idea that someone my age could have both figured out what they want to do with their life and finished all the schooling necessary to go into the profession was a little humbling to say the least. Regardless of my intimidation, my doctor was great and it was nice to have someone my age to talk to.

Flexible and Mellow

Today I was standing in line at Trader Joe's and the girl in front of me in line was flirting with the checker. She was telling him how she was really into yoga and had just been to a great class. He said he'd never tried yoga, but he thought he would be good at it because he was very flexible. She said, "Oh yeah?" He said, "Yeah, I'm very flexible and mellow."

It was then my turn to check out and they both turned towards me; I made the mistake of saying the first thing that popped into my head. "Wow, that sounds like quite the personal ad."

Risk

I have thinking a lot about risk lately and what makes me afraid to take it. I have spent the past few years struggling to figure out what I want to do with my life, but when push comes to shove I find myself inextricably stuck. I think about where I would like to be and try to visualize my future, but I find myself unable to make the leap. I am full of excuses and I seem to hold myself back. I thought making a list of some the excuses I make might be helpful.

Excuses for not making potentially life changing risks:

• Fear of failure
• Not being financially secure
• Dreams not being the reality
  
• Having to start climbing the ladder again
  
• Being afraid to be away from family and friends
  
• The unstable economy (I feel I should be grateful for the job I have, but I still fell stuck)
• Fear of the unfamiliar
• Not wanting to do things alone
  
• Fear of embarrassment
  

It could have been a great beginning.

Yesterday I was excited to learn that Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs by Judi Barrett is being made into a movie. I told my boss how cute the trailer was and she paused and said, "Great title, but I have no idea what you are talking about." I was sad because she has a little one and I decided that it's a book he needs to grow up with. So last night I went to remedy it.

I went to Half Price Books on Capitol Hill and poked around the kids book section for a while until I realized I had no idea who the author or any hope of finding it. I went to the front desk and asked the very cute guy working at the desk for the author. I said the title and he gave me a surprised look. I said, "It's a kid's book." He said, "No, I know! I was just thinking I should know the author, I totally remember that book!" I explained to him why I looking for the book at 10:00pm on a Wednesday, which I'm sure made me look even weirder. After I got the author I wandered back to the section and found one copy. I sat on the floor and read the book cover to cover, reveling in the story of the people of Chewandswallow. I then walked by the front desk as I was going to the lower level to look in the adult books.

As I walked by the desk, the previously mentioned cute guy said, "Oh, did you not find it?" I said, "No, I found it. I was just reading it. It was still good." He smiled. I asked him if he wanted to read it while I looked downstairs. He looked a little hesitant, I said, "You know you want to*." He said, "Yes, I do." When I got back upstairs he was changing shifts at the front desk, but telling the guy taking over for him to make sure to give the book back to me. He thanked me for sharing the book. Sadly, this ends my tale, but as Carrie Bradshaw would say, "I couldn't help but wonder..."

* Author's note: Clearly reading a book from the 1980's transported me back to my elementary school manners. I should have just pinched him and ran away.

This is What I Actually Love

Recently one of my co-workers accused me of being a hater (in an over the top sort of way). As many people around the office started to weigh in on my the things I abhor I started to think about all the stuff I like. This evening I found myself digging through some old boxes to find my happy thoughts list. My friends and I all started making list in eight grade when 14,000 Things to Be Happy About: The Happy Book was really popular.

Here are some excerpts from my personal list, most of which was written in 8th & 9th grade, but I still agree with:

• leaves changing color
• Q cards
  
• thunderstorms
• soccer
  
• snow near Christmas
• ... and they lived happily ever after. The End
  
• cherry trees in bloom
• otters
  
• tea time
• the smell of summer rain
• vegetable gardens
• soft wool socks
• frost
• coffee
• getting mail
• skeeball
• hedgehogs
  
• clothes fresh out of the dryer
• valentines
• fro yo
• sidewalk chalk
• art classes
• phone calls from friends just to say hello
• fresh mint
• weekends
• Queen Anne's lace
• family
• yoga
• waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain
• Mariner's 1995 season
• road trips
• the Garden of the Gods
• Westminster Chimes
• freesia
• secret compartments
• saving the best for last
• giving people presents
• the edge of sleep
• scarves
  
• taking pictures
• friends
• snorkeling
• mix tapes
  
• home
  

Ab Time

I joined a new gym three weeks ago and yesterday while I was there I decided to look at the class schedule to see if there was a class I wanted to attend. This comes with the caveat that I have an intense fear of any aerobics type class. I have no rhythm and find that these classes provide much more stress that they are worth for me. By the time I finally get the hang of any move the class has invariably moved on to the next step and it's always awful to be watching yourself in a mirror and see you are the one always the one person on the opposite beat of everyone else.

On the class schedule there was a 25 minute class entitled "Awesome Abs." I figured that this class wouldn't have any aerobics or dance moves I could screw up and if it did I could handle 25 minutes of humiliation if I was on the road to "awesome abs."
I showed up at the class which is held on the gym's basketball court, I looked all around and couldn't figure out who the instructor was going to be so I asked one of the students what I needed for the class. She told me I'd need a mat, step, barbell, band and hand weights. The class started and about 15 minutes into the class we had only used the mat. I thought it was a little odd. What I did not know was that "Awesome Abs" leads directly into "NRC Bar." I still don't know what NRC stands for, but what I do know that it was an hour long class full of crazy aerobic moves while you are holding a barbell, hand weights or jumping on and off a step.

The best part was that I got a barbell without really knowing what I was going to be using it for, thinking that in a 25 minute ab class I could go for a heavier barbell. This was a big mistake. I also have terrible balance which made the whole experience even more interesting. In the end, I couldn't help but just laugh at myself and enjoy my totally uncoordinated workout.

Changing It Up

Spring is in the air (or at least I hope it is) and I've been gearing up to do the annual spring closet purge and try to sort through the detritus I seem to gather. I have a bit of a hard time getting rid of stuff and always feel daunted with the piles of stuff that accumulate around me.

As I was trying to sort through stuff I realized I wanted some sort of change in my room. It came in the form of a new bedside lamp. I purchased a couple lit branches from the University Bookstore and put them in a vase I had. The pictures don't quite do the best job because I had to turn off the flash for the "after" shot, but hopefully you'll get the idea.

Before:

After:

This is What I Get

My office is extremely casual. We have a large concentration of computer engineers in our building and we don't share any common space with other businesses which makes it even more casual. I routinely see people walking around in sweatpants, there are even a few who walk around in socks or bare feet. If you dress up it breeds a level of suspicion. I been hounded with questions about it I am going out to interview just because I've worn a skirt.

I wear jeans to work quite a bit, but I also try to dress up a few times a week just so I stay in the practice of looking somewhat presentable. Today, however, it bit me in the butt. My boss comes into my office and comes to my side of the desk to see what I am wearing. She says, "Oh good, you're dressed up today." I immediately sense trouble. I am wearing black flats, black slacks, a gray and black striped sweater, and little pseudo blazer made of sweatshirt material from H&M. Apparently I now have to go to what I've sure will be a very painful meeting with a potential client and one of our sales guys because I wore something nice.

Tomorrow I am going to wear sweatpants!

Happiness

It's been a down couple weeks for me. After growing up in Seattle I thought I was immune to the winter blues, but I think working in a windowless office has finally done it to me. I went to the doctor and got a recommendation of a combination of vitamins to take and that seems to have helped a little bit. However, I have finally found something to cheer me up...


Griffey is coming back to Seattle! While I personally was always a little more smitten with Dave Valle (I met him at a fan forum when I was 7 or 8), I will always have a soft spot for Griffey and all the fond memories he provided for me and my family in the Kingdom. I especially loved seeing him play with his dad during the 1990-1991 season. I'm hoping this means the Mariners will be back in top form this season.

Pancakes or Patchouli?

Every year for Christmas my family gets a package from friends in Colorado. The package always contains homemade jam and some baking mixes. This year the package arrived per usual and contained huckleberry pancake mix. The problem began with the fact that the pancake mix was in a cloth bag that smelled like patchouli soap.

I'm sure the mix was purchased at some nice gift shop that sold lots of nice stuff including soap, but it was as if the mix has been stored in a box with soap or incense for a very long time. The aroma was overpowering. I made the suggestion that we should, perhaps, toss the mix. However my dad said that because there was a plastic bag inside the cloth one, "It'll be fine!" I was informed we would be having it for breakfast the next morning.

The next morning my dad makes the pancakes and thinks as he is cooking that it does smell soapy, but thinks it's the cloth bag sitting on the counter. I am served the first pancakes and am presented with a pile of what can only be described as steaming soapy pancakes. I don't want to be deemed as picky and they do look normal so I am brave and take a bite.

This was a big mistake, the pancakes taste just as they smell or maybe worse. My mouth is engulfed with a soapy, horrible flavor. I spit the bite back on to my plate. Luckily, my mom has been equally dubious since she smelled the pancakes cooking and takes a small bite and also spits it back out. We ended up having toast for boxing day breakfast instead.

Admiration

I have spent the last day catching up on Vinyl Cafe podcasts and admiring the stories of Stuart McLean. His stories are touching, funny, beautiful, and thoughtful. Every time I hear one it makes me appreciate life a little more.

For father's day last year I bought tickets for the live Vinyl Cafe show in Seattle. This October we finally got to go. As we left my theater, my dad turned to me and said, "My stomach hurts." My thoughts immediately turned to the dinner we'd gone to before the show, afraid he was going to be sick. He saw the look on my face and said "No, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard." It was a great evening.

The Vinyl Cafe also encourages people to send in little stories and each week Stuart reads one on the air, "Christmas Tea Rings" is one of my favorites.

Inspired

Today I volunteered at the KUOW (Seattle's NPR station) fall pledge drive. I had a woman call in and donate $50. After I took down her information I asked her is she had any comments or programming notes for the station. She choked up a bit and said, "Well, I wouldn't want this mentioned on the air, but we're losing our house and my husband just lost his pension, but I couldn't stand the thought of losing NPR so I'm donating today."

The next pledge I took was my own.

This is what I overheard last night

Last night, I was running between a couple social engagements and I was starving. I ended up swinging by Taco Time to grab a burrito. While I was sitting in the restaurant eating my delicious burrito, an older couple sat in the next booth. For the first three or four minutes the couple just sat at the table without saying anything as they waited for their food. Finally, the woman said to the man, "You're so quiet, what are you thinking about?" The man paused and sounded very thoughtful as he said, "Oh, I was just thinking about what is on TV tonight."