cloudy with a chance of self-deprecation.

June 29, 2008 Candace Morris 4 Comments

the heat of this sunday morning brings in its wake a ominous portent of the week.

do you know what it's like to feel like you cannot trust a single thought, emotion, or desire? i spend so many countless hours brooding over the desire to just be someone else.

i have this vision of candace in my head and it never quite meets up with the reality of what i have to deal with - the clumsy, anal, critical, thin-haired, out-fit challenged, flat chested, mouthy, demanding, moody, snappy self that i cannot quite stomach this morning.

how i long for some sort of teleportal kinetic device that can beam my soul out of this body - just for some silent reprieve where for ONCE, for even a fraction of a second- i can not care what i look like, what i say, or who i am.

i need to get lost in a book today. i hate funky moods.


friday on my mind.

June 27, 2008 Candace Morris 7 Comments

i feel as frolicsome today as the foam bubbles in my cappuccino. light, airy, and full of quiet buoyant expectation.

i have a hunch as to why this feels like the perfect day in existence:

  1. it's friday. duh.
  2. it's 60 degrees at 8:40am, and supposed to be up to 89 this weekend! even just the walk to my building from the bus was a glorious, coat-free strut that boosted my step and puffed up my new (and adorable) skirt with confidence.
  3. i get to leave work today at 2pm - for a decadent lunch with my coworker, then off to camp with mom and dad in their new RV for the night.
  4. had just the most euphoric evening at the gomes' last night. they have a new backyard complete with fire pit, hammock, and table upon which we ate some lovely summer fare and imbibed bottle(s) of wine. the conversation was comical, intimate, vulnerable, and like always with them, quite safe for me. always safe, always caring, always i feel present in myself, alive, and know that whatever i say - they will love - because they love me. dears, do you have this kind of love in your life? if not, let me introduce you to ben and jess.

my jess, i cannot say enough about the ages and times and portals through which we have passed and emerged ever more mystic and lovely. you have never known warmth until she brings you one of her cocktails, cooks you one of her meals, enchants you with her words, and embraces you in her timeless bosom of all women.

(that's me, not jess- with ben - but man' aren't we a sexy pair? this man is so important for me...i feel almost a child-like safety with him. he adores me, i adore him, and it is within this mutual adoration and intuition with which we see each other that i understand him to be great. oh dear old soul, you can make me weep with your beauty.)

So in an effort to make some cash on this art called writing, i have acquiesced to google's advertisements on my page. Today, as i was checking my blog roll for updates, I noticed the ads that were chosen. Apparently, google scans your blog for key words in order to make the ads relevant, and I ask you - what in the hell did they read on my blog that made them decide on "Chicago Bathroom Cleaning" as an appropriate ad? UNFORGIVABLE!

i might be MIA most of this weekend because i will be enjoying life too much to be at home! i am camping overnight with my parents tonight, having a fun and intimate ladie's night with six of the best women ever (though two will be not present) where we plan to swim, bbq, and share our favorite childhood story (i didn't know it in childhood, but i will probably share The Giving Tree by Silverstein).

What is YOUR favorite childhood book?

happy, happy, happy, happy friday.


here's to wishing it could be different

June 25, 2008 Candace Morris 4 Comments

I have had to take the past two days off work in order to get rid of a nasty cold bug swarming Washington. In these past two days, I was able to ask myself many questions about the nature of myself and work.

Day One: I am alone resting – but feeling very tired and sick. I read for an hour at 7am (this never happens), fall back asleep until 10am and then take a mid-morning bath. Nest a bit in the house, do laundry, dishes, make tea, read, nap, read, nap, and then Joel comes home! The day, in general was lovely, quiet, and much needed. At the end of day one, I have a thought that never working again would be sheer and utter bliss. SO I think, I can totally quit and find something else, or just stay at home!!

(enter fantasy: candace as the super house-wife. She wakes at 8am, cleans the house from top to bottom, runs to gym for two hours, walks the dog, and picks up the drycleaning. She then comes home and takes a long bath and gets ready for day. She then meanders out the door for a lunch date with girls and afterwards shops for dinner. She then comes home and reads & writes for two hours, makes the hubby a three-course dinner with crème brûlée for dessert, afterwards inviting his friends over for cocktails and pinochle. Once they leave, she then spends time doting on joel, making his breakfast and lunch for the next day and then sending him to bed. She then changes the oil in her Audi, writes a novel and then ends her night with a dip in her Jacuzzi overlooking Nice, France. All of these tasks are completed in these outfits (click to view entire spread in Bazaar).)

Day Two: Equally lovely – being taken care of by joel – who is also sick at home. I napped with a gorgeous cat, sat around, had soup brought to me, finished my book, made a lovely dinner, played games. But by the end of day two, I find myself thanking god for work, steady income, and structure (the steady income may/may not have been directly correlated to a 3 hr marathon of The Farming Game – which can make even the most successful farmer-to-be scared out of his gourd about money). I was tired of feeling grungy (though I had bathed four times in those two days), ugly, uncombed, and unproductive.

So back to work today and not feeling overly euphoric about this other than glad to have my day pieced out nicely and predictably for me. My soul hates it, my personality thrives on it. This conundrum is confusing me – this confusion is presenting in the form of some STRANGE dreams, friends. This disconnect at work is also why I bury myself in planning things…it’s a fantasy world of sorts – an escape I can use. If I plan parties, do grocery lists, organize events – then I feel alive and distracted all at once.

But something is wrong when you must continually distract your soul from fully feeling its discontent.

I did however, write on my to do list the following:
  • See if we can do a single-income budget
  • More camping food lists
  • Craigslist jobs.

So I guess there is still hope that that kick-ass housewife lives inside.

p.s. I was really just going to stick with tea this week – still trying to really recover my voice and health, but since today’s exciting task at work is paying bills, I have one response:
God. Where’s the coffee.
So I made a pot here at the office and it’s just very disgustingly old. I thought I could choke it down and even made some oatmeal to help, but to this I have one response:
Gaaaawwwwd. Where’s the coffee!


sicky sickerton

June 24, 2008 Candace Morris 1 Comments

please stand by, i am not ignoring my writing, but am instead racked with cough and sore throat.


an affair to remember

June 20, 2008 Candace Morris 1 Comments

joel and i just home from an amazing new restaurant.

i bought some new dresses at my favorite consignment shop...he bought some new shirts and a lovely chair for our home at pretty parlor.

what a lovely evening - wandering the streets with breezy skirt.

June - J&C Artemis

mmm, off to make tea and watch some star wars,
feeling on top of the world - and dears, isn't that what friday night is for?


"next time, i promise we'll be perfect"

June 20, 2008 Candace Morris 5 Comments

"Perfection is local – in divine Seattle. I enjoy leisurely brunch with girlfriends, afterwards meandering through consignment and book shops. Then I take my typewriter to a breezy deck and write, finishing the late afternoon with a facial. Come evening, don a fabulous dress and walk with hubby to favorite local restaurant, sipping wine with sighs and wiggling off our shoes sur-la-table."

The above was my entry into Daily Candy’s contest for a perfect day. You write your perfect day in 50 words or less (do you think they will notice that mine was 61 words?) and you could win this day - and some new cell phone, but i care little about this.

Wait. Why didn’t I say shopping spree/limousine around town/and trip to Paris for the day?!

Well, nevertheless – happy Friday. Would you like to know what is making this early morning post possible?

Triple Cappuccino.

I have not had coffee all week due to my froat being froggy – instead imbibing ungodly amounts of tea. But not today. I am feeling quite a bit better and was ready to attack Friday with said coffee beverage.


(I think I am scaring my coworker with my talkativeness).

So ANNNYYYWAY, even if you don’t enter above contest, what is your perfect day, dearies?!



on purpose

June 19, 2008 Candace Morris 3 Comments

I think everyone is voyeuristically interested in the seemingly-mundane details of everyone’s life.

It is under this presupposition that I write the following list of thoughts, tasks, and ideas:

Today I:

  • Researched and put on hold a Hawaiian vacation for Joel and I. This would be in September and would be the celebration of both our 30th bdays. If I can, I am also working on convincing Ben and Jess to come for their 30ths as well as my sister and her husband. Hell, everyone should come.
  • Had a lunch conversation with my Karen – whose voice I have not heard in over a year! So sad. She is on her way to Hawaii next week and I am SUPER excited for her. I miss this child dearly. Oh, and guess what?! They got a PUPPY last night....oooohhh, I can't wait to see pictures!
  • Researched camping food and planned camping lists for the Annual 2nd Camping Trip with my 12 friends. It’s only three weeks away, and I am super excited to get drunk, sweaty, and dirty with these honorable peeps. (hopefully this year will NOT include candace drinking too much wine and then hopping a log the size of Godzilla and then ignominiously spraining her ankle). Speaking of camping food, I am collaboratively asking what people like to cook (easy and tasty) while camping…well?
  • Worked on a side-project secret blog I have going to surprise miss Kelly upon her return from camping on Sunday.
  • Prepped my taste buds for a 2pm bday party in the office. It was my turn to host and I purchased the cutest looking mascarpone and berry cake from the Whole Foods bakery. OOH the anticipation.
  • Am in anticipation for tonight- as Jess’s mom is in town. When Denise is here, I eat like a queen and feel freaking fabulous. You have GOT to meet this woman.
  • Updated blogs.
  • Sent out a Bastille Day celebration invitation! I love France. (down with america! j/k patriot act)
  • Ate a granola bar and apple for breakfast, had green and mint tea, and then had chicken gumbo soup for lunch.

    Okay now I am boring myself.

    But I did have something to share. I was thinking last night that in marriage or any relationship, it gets very easy to be unintentional with your relationship. Life happens and often steals our ability to purpose time for someone else. It’s so great and super necessary to just be lazy together, but I am challenging the definition of this laze. For me, it’s easy to watch movies with joelio and feel generally blazé about the evening afterwards, but if instead we decide to have a night where we just turn off the TV and hang out – I feel so much more connected to him. For instance, we decided no TV last night (we don’t have TV, so movies), and instead we had tea on the roof while watching the sunset, sat on the couch and looked at magazines, laughed and wrestled, I got a nice back rub, joel got to bed early and I took a hot bath, and then got to spend time with my BOOK! In addition, it put us both in bed much earlier.

    If you could spend the ideal night with your spouse or friend or anyone, would it really include couch potatoing? And if so, cool – but what would your second choice be? Tell me…ready? Go.


sicky stays at home for a night.

June 18, 2008 Candace Morris 7 Comments

oh souls,

my froat is on fire.

i am getting know it's official when you start to bail on social events. (sorry niki. sorry jess). so instead of hanging with my niki last night, i ate pho and watched two movies, the details of which i now plan to bore you.

1. Margot at the Wedding. I have been wanting to see this for ages, mainly because of the cast. The director and writer, Noah Baumbach, also has a resume to envy (writing for The Life Aquatic, and writing and directing The Squid and the Whale) so I really thought I would enjoy it. I did enjoy it - but in a distraction-from-my-sore-throat kind of way. But it's a sign when only Jack Black really stands out amidst such women as Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh. Jack Black was the only reason to see this film (and this also supports my theory that comedians make the best dramatic actors - hello...Steve Carell in Little Miss Sunshine).

2. Boogie Nights. My DVD cue at the library reflects my recent desire to catch up on my Paul Thomas Anderson. BN was the first to come (I STILL haven't seen There Will Be Blood)...and it was so morbidly fascinating and morally compromising! You feel you MUST look away, but golly, you can't! I should have know better (hello, a movie about the porn industry, and PTA's inability to really do anything in a semi-subtle way) but it was also superbly cast and stunningly acted. Despite him not appearing until 30 min after the film started, Philip Seymour Hoffman stole the entire show. When joelio almost choked up at the character's beratement of himself, it sealed the deal. Mark Whalberg is also one of our favorites, so he was not at all a disappointment. William H. Macy, Julianne Moore, Heather Graham, John C. Riely, Don Cheadle, Burt always PTA does not disappoint with his cast...though he has got to be held responsible for my crazy dreams and general feeling of nausea upon waking from said dreams.

i found something as i was perusing Design*Sponge that made me want to share this with you.

doesn't this look just amazing?

what do you imagine doing here? i can think of nothing else but the tremendous desire to paint...and after that posture was hurting my back, i would lay on that bed and read. read. read.

hope you feel better than i,


life span integration

June 17, 2008 Candace Morris 0 Comments

as an assignment for counseling, my therapist asked me to write up a life span integration worksheet. basically, i have to assign memories of my life to certain ages. i have to take this worksheet into the session tomorrow night, and i am rather intimated by it.

i am working on it this morning, feeling rather naked and doubtful. all of my experiences seem banal and trite while simultaneously extremely important. i am really curious what March will do with the answers, apparently there is very little analysis of these events. i need to do some more research on it, but i think i will wait until after i finish my timeline - just so i don't unintentionally skew the results.

so far, almost every age hangs on which boyfriend i had at the time. daddy issues much?

god, i get so sick of saying that...even sicker of it being valid.

speaking of old boyfriends, i have had the strangest resurgence of dreams about them. i always fell in love very very hard and very very unwisely - not in the men i chose to date, but in giving them my intimacy quickly and completely - at very impressionable ages (i think the form i am working on says i fell in love for the first time at age 10). not until joel came along did i ever once ascribe anything positive to falling in love - i was in love with the aches and wounds of love. this is because everyone that loved me ended up choosing someone else...which is completely natural as humans seek to pair up, but i was in the self-masochistic state for so long where the only option to loving me was rejecting me. the rejection felt so alive, so familiar, so addicting.

sometimes, in the dreams, i miss those boys dreadfully and as a result i wake up aching for a time gone by. and so it must be that once a heart has been splayed open willingly, it can never be fully restored to me. the childhood heart will always belong to carlos, danny, jon, and dan. this is perhaps not an ideal way for a girl to grow up, but i do not regret these encounters. carlos taught me how to love. danny taught me how to laugh and play. jon taught me how to cry bitterly. dan introduced me to myself as a beautiful woman. my joel - he completes the job - the endings of what some others started. They were all very soulful and noble men.

the life span integration has been interesting so far - with the early years mostly blank. i need my sister (who has always been my memory) to fill this stuff in for me, but they have to be mine.

i will keep you in the know - of what dreams may come.


this is the sister of which i speak

June 16, 2008 Candace Morris 3 Comments

i realized that some of you have never seen her.


decidedly unread and 50% water

June 16, 2008 Candace Morris 4 Comments is not getting the reading it needs.

in other musings,

spring is in the air. or, summer. i don't know. i just know that i am in love with joel again...all over again. it's lovely and feels as light as spring.

it was reinforced by my conversation with my sister teresa last night. she told me about one of the most beautiful moments of her life, and i am going to steal it and share it because it's really stunning.

her close friend's brother just passed away, and she attended the funeral. they scattered the ashes in the ocean by san diego, but this was no casting of ashes over a boat. instead the family asked any/everyone who felt comfortable to come swim and scatter. teresa donned a wet suit and paddled out to the sea where she belongs. (my sister is made of 80% water and 20% fire. her big eyes glisten with the dewy elements of her being.)

she laid back and floated for 2-3 minutes of solitude and found within herself the desire to be laid to rest at sea when the time comes. this realization of her own inevitability of death brought a new desire to live into her soul.

picturing my teresa floating in the ocean brings the 50% water of which i am made crashing to my own eyes. she was lighter, refreshed, carried by the sea in all it's tumult and solidarity. she was at home.

after this experience, she found within her a rebirth of love for her own dear husband. the taste of mortality has sparked something in their marriage, and the sharing of it has sparked something in mine.

her happiness brings me a taste of mine.

“To suspect your own mortality is to know the beginning of terror, to learn irrefutably that you are mortal is to know the end of terror.” Frank Herbert


it's 2am and you need some pictures!

June 15, 2008 Candace Morris 0 Comments

and here i sit, musing about the day. battling the productivity demon - thinking of all the stuff i didn't get done.

but if i listen to my little soul, she says, "BRAVO to you, crm for taking time for the needs of your soul...."

joel and i had a marvelous day. despite saying goodbye to our favorite cousin (sorry, adam, you may or may not have been trumped) erin, we were able to really enjoy this saturday in june.

joel had to work, but then dashed home and helped me finish the $20 in laundry i did, took out the trash, and hung up some curtains. doing chores for me? (oh that man is sooo getting some).

He then stole me away to grab a lovely burger and shake and then to golden gardens to read our books in the sunshine.

then joel took me to see the SITC movie (again!), what a doll. he is now currently passed out on the bed - after having consumed a rather large amount of edamame. i think i will join.

mmmmm. happy weekend evening friendlings.

here are some visual candies for you! sorry it's been so long.

j&c june date
Adam&Erin June 08



thom york for president

June 11, 2008 Candace Morris 4 Comments

i stumbled across this little tidbit i wrote almost two years ago, when i first went back to counseling after teaching, and i thought i wanted to share it on here. warning: i really loved the f word back then. (i still do, but it's uh, less, mmmm...bitter. yeah, that's it.) But i also thought it was an apt revelation of the last couple of years.

"I almost doubled over in solid revelation from one so long silent. On the corner of Madison and 8th, with the absent sun finally appearing on the striking skyline of Seattle, I heard god or what I think is god. It’s not hard for me to hear him in music anyway, but after a particularly enlightening counseling session specifically dealing with my lack of love towards god, he fucking shows up. It is just so like him.

I did everything I could for 15 years to make sure he wouldn’t leave me, wouldn’t be disappointed in me. I prayed passionately, I cried with others when they were in pain, I read and memorized my bible, I went to church three times a week, I refrained from premarital sex, I dressed modestly, I never got drunk. All of those things worked for a while, but once his voice started to slip, I got desperate. I dug in even further; I led worship, I went on a hardcore mission’s trip, I scribbled frantically in my journal…yet still he faded. I start to get mad and think, ah finally…he just wanted me to be authentic. But soon, even the yelling at him didn’t bring him when I need him. So I gave up. That’s it, that’s the end. If he fucking wants me, he better come find me. And he does—for a while, for a precious small season. Then I get married. I decide that no mater what, I cannot control my relationship with god, so I must let him do his thing. He does, and proceeds to be so silent that I actually question his existence. And yes, finally…that is a good thing, that’s what he wanted all along, me to live in faith even in doubt. And then, radio silent, otre ves.

And then this…he gives me this. Occasionally, he will give me a small tidbit to keep going, a nurturing touch here, a warm fuzzy there. I haven’t felt that in four years now. And then, the bastard…he shows up.

He shows up on the fucking corner of fucking 8th and Madison. It’s not a special part of town. It’s not quite yet alternative Capitol Hill and its two blocks from the downtown shopping district. It’s a blah, non significant way to get from lesbians to Louis Vuitton-from one insignificant place to another.

I walk down the steps of First Presbyterian Church where my session is held, digging into my purse for my gloves. The sun is out, I am feeling hopeful for once, and yet it’s still bitterly cold, just like me. I put on my ipod to help the walk more enjoyable, and Thom York begins his reprieve. At first, I am stopping to really listen to the lyrics, “Flies are buzzing round my head…Vultures circling the dead.” I am just thinking how little I credit Radiohead’s lyrical ability, being usually so taken by the emotive quality of the music instead. And then…something changes. As I step onto the black pavement to cross to 8th, I curl inward. “You can try the best you can, you can try the best you can….the best you can is good enough; you can try the best you can, you can try the best you can….the best you can is good enough.”

No passer-by would have noticed. There was no outward physical manifestation of epiphany. But, in my stomach, where my emotional shit lives, I felt it. It was a ping, a twinge, a release. I refused to cry because it only shows how damn desperate I am for anything from him….but my stomach doesn’t refuse. It tells me that I am just like everyone else, desperate and alone…and loved. Fucking loved! Can you believe that shit? I scream inside for him to just leave me alone….to just let me leave my faith behind. Stop trying to make me believe that being human is anything other than tragic and pointless…a stepping stone, a cruel joke.

But he fucking persists. The repetition only makes it more real, “you can try the best you can…you can try the best you can….the best you can is good enough.” “You are not a fuck up simply because you can’t make yourself want me. Just leave it alone and let yourself be. It’s not your fault I am silent…. “I’d really like to help you, man.”

I walk on down Madison…back to work, back to life, back to silence.

But for one minute, I heard him.

so there you have it. i have struggled with the mighty other that is so long silent...or was. these days, i cant seem to make him leave me alone. the cursed relationship - the terrible frightful beauty of being human. i was hard in those years, and now i am all cushy around the edges.
pensively yours,

p.s. in other frustrations, i drove home the other day and saw my father in my face. i am seeing his resemblance more and more, and it's angering me to NO END. i have been able to place my father in some safe rooms of myself, but lately - the doors have been a'swinging wide open, flooding the other selves with so much rage and anger. it has birthed an idea for a book, actually, but before that happens - it has birthed new, hot tears.

thanks a lot, healing. you are just never satisfied, are you?
the book. i want to compile essays written by daughters to their absent or abusive fathers - vulnerable, raw, and painful. this book will be the cultural revelation of a fatherless zeitgeist.

i think the book sounds like nothing i would ever want to read, but something so healing to write.


another one bites the dust.

June 09, 2008 Candace Morris 1 Comments

well, it's over. i am still in comatose form, so thank god i don't have to work again tomorrow. i took today off to enjoy adam and erin, which i have been doing, but i didn't realize how just utterly spent i would be. i feel dead to the world, but with bath, book, and coming back to life.

it has taken me almost six years to realize that i am indeed a big sister. i fought it for quite some time. as i am the baby in my immediate family, i have always gladly received the love of my older siblings with very little responsibility or concern. i was not flippant about them, but felt free to love them and let them live their lives. i fear they felt not this freedom with me.

but then i married into a family in which i was now the oldest.

and with julie, i feel this loss of flippant sisterhood, the transition of being the baby to being the oldest... i am an influence, plain and simple, and i fought it for so long because i never wanted to be looked up to, but i knew it was inevitable. i didn't want to have to weigh my words or be careful with her, but i had to.

and while we both desperately try to save face with levels of our admiration, i am realizing now that i had been much too distant with my daily praise and entirely too casual in expressing my approval. but i realize now that i am indeed attached to her. i DO feel responsible for her choices and her life. and what's sad is that with the realization of my attachment to her and the fact that she is oh so easy to love comes the realization that now i must let her go.

and into his arms she falls.

she was painfully beautiful that day. her beauty is so decidedly different from most women i know, and i think it's because i know her so intimately. julie has fiercely and courageously battled the demons of her own perceived ugliness, and facing this beast head-on has left the scars of battle that deepen the most beautiful wounds inside of her. this beauty is tangible, eccentric, fascinating, and legendary.

and for this beauty, i do admit, that sometimes i hate her. see photo above from one of the most FIERCE photographers i know.

when i close my eyes and see the wedding day, here is my visual montage...
  1. julie hugging me as she left for her honeymoon, tears streaming down her face at how touched she was. oh, and tim hugging me with deep meaning and then sweetly asking me to do him a favor. anything, i responded. can you find my shoes? i looked down and he was totally barefoot. harrr.
  2. dancing with wild abandonment in the sand on the beach - watching the sun set.
  3. anthony screaming, "i am black" on the dance floor.
  4. watching my friends work their little tails off for my sister. this community overwhelms me.
  5. dancing on the chairs with kelly, devon, jessica, and erin to "we are family."
  6. joel being just buzzed enough to actually fast dance with me. we are trying not to make a BIG DEAL OUT OF IT! OH MY GOSH, IT WAS SO AMAZING.
  7. the couple's first dance together, which was a choreographed dance that blew my dancing socks off.
  8. seeing erin walk into the reception hall.
  9. watching grandpa sob as dad presented julie with our recently passed grandmother's bible. while on her deathbed, she asked jonathan to give it to julie.
  10. seeing the sun come out for what has been the loveliest day in june so far. shame on me for doubting.
  11. watching julie skip up my sidewalk hill in her veil and flip flops, giddy with innocent and girly awareness that it was indeed her wedding day.
  12. kelly's apartment overwhelmed with beautiful flowers, which were the greatest edible temptation to her cat. turns out he threw them up later.

in other recent awareness, i have come to terms with my own perceived sense of photogenic beauty. i am realizing more and more that i am simply not the super model i feel like inside. this is not a time where i want anyone to convince me of my fabulousness, i am well aware of a deep and abiding beauty that i possess. but this is a time where i too confront my own perceptions of self...what is candace? what is the candace that translates in photographs? why is it that i always feel so much more elegant and poised and beautiful than any picture can seem to capture? why is a dimensionally-limited photograph always a disappointment to my inner perception of self? it is just that i can't find a photo that can capture how vibrant, awake, and alive i feel inside. since i cant find that photo, see below for silly one's mom took. i am sure i will be sharing plenty more to come.

i am not finished pursuing that photo, though. i will find my someday when the translation of my beauty is fierce. i probably need to hire april. :)


it may be obscene

June 07, 2008 Candace Morris 2 Comments

but it's just a fun taste. literally.

oh, wedding weekends.


serenity now.

June 05, 2008 Candace Morris 3 Comments

Last night, as the energy behind julie's wedding began, joelio and his bride settled into their bed for a good night's rest.

As they hummed & hoed about the nothings of their day, she spooned up to the best man she knows (yes, plume ) and cooed, “I want to get away with you.”

He sleepily whispered, “Where would you go?”

She must confess, she had been day-dreaming about a vacation with him for some time. (This happens frequently when she has soon-to-be honeymooners around her). They had been musing about going camping alone together (never been done), but couldn’t yet manage to locate a free weekend in their schedule.

But she was in no mood to just sit around and soak up sun. No sarongs, no beach chairs, no frou-frou cocktails. Nor did she want grand, adrenaline-seeking adventures; no zip-lines or mountain climbing for this gal.

Instead, her soul craves Europe. This time last year, she was on her way to Paris and Italy for two weeks, and her inner-soul-ticking clock caught a desperate case of déjà vu.

They would stay in Nice, France for the entire time, but then take the train to and from various other Provincial towns. They would breeze by the Mediterranean in a smart car, eat bread and cheese for lunch, drink wine like water, and take in one of the only cultures on the planet (that she has visited) that understand soul as a means of daily living.

The bitch about vacations? MONEY.

Oh the precious cost of serenity.

I was thinking last night, in a groggy haze after my bi-monthly massage how freaking spoiled I am for one, but for two, how other women should insist on this kind of treatment for themselves. But the women I know WOULD do this if they could only afford it. It seems in this culture of ours that only those with “disposable income” can really afford to take care of themselves in the way we are told. The poor must survive their stress and raise their children without any help or hope for personal serenity, and the rich are walking around in their mansions with all the privileges in the world – serenity being the most costly. (this may or may not be based in reality).

And yet, neither lifestyle can guarantee serenity.

Of course, of course…IDEALLY serenity should not be something bound to cash. It must be something we demand outside of material gain.

Things like gazing at clouds, husbands rubbing feet, cooking at home, cheaply drinkable bottles of wine, making beautiful cards for the kids in your life, doodling in your sketchbook, perusing through your nana’s type-written letters, writing your words – perhaps these are things than can also contribute to serenity.

But man, a fabulous lunch, gorgeous handbag, expensive chocolates, ridiculous shoes, and a deep-tissue massage is the SHIT.



consider yourself warned

June 04, 2008 Candace Morris 2 Comments

random hump day musings.

  • Ever notice how certain protein bars taste like dust? Bleck – this Luna Peanut Butter Cookie bar is filthy.
  • Some secret little elf bought a beautiful black patent leather purse for me in the mail. Who are you??? J It’s just the perfect size, and was on my etsy wish list so THANKS! I feel so special (though I admit, I fear my ability to downsize).
  • Despite this week’s vitamins, three bananas, and stretching, I woke up last night with a horrendous leg cramp. I am now walking around with this ball of pain in my left calf. Good thing I have a massage tonight. (thank god for insurance – oh the benefits of selling your soul to corporate America).
  • Gone Baby Gone was better than I expected, but any film that puts ben affleck BEHIND a camera is destined for a greater outcome than if he were in front of a camera.
  • Domino magazine was rather disappointing this month. Unless you have a guest bedroom where you can fit two twin beds or perhaps a huge lawn for outdoor patio furniture, this magazine was pretty irrelevant. I did scope this beautiful dress from an artist that I am considering writing the editor to ask the artist where she purchased said dress. But that’s about the only inspiration I got from the mag.
  • I am excited to see Adam today. He is the closest cousin/brother we have.
  • I spell like summer lately. New annoying handsoap has shea butter which reminds me of tanning oil, which reminds me of cheap straw hats and skin marks from plastic lounge chairs. This is annoying because I cannot be sitting in the sun with a wide brimmed hat, glass of rose, good book, and sound of ocean lapping at the shore. Damn soap.
  • I almost journaled ON PAPER last night! I was feeling just so miserable, lonely, irritable, wounded, cranky, and lazy. As is normal for me, I didn’t feel motivated to do anything until about 10pm when I finally did the dishes, put away the laundry, straightened the house, and took a bath…but then I read myself to sleep and my book is getting interesting so that was a bright spot, but the beginning line of my journal entry was going to read, “I am just so miserable tonight.”
  • And this morning? Oh, thanks for asking. I feel my neck hurting, my tea oversteaped, my luna bar dusty, and my eyes puffy from fatigue.
  • Also, I hate doing expense reports.

What’s new with you?

I spent a lot of my time yesterday adding new quotes. Some of my favorite are scrolling on the page as we speak, but I will include them here for you too:

"Everywhere I go I'm asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. There's many a best-seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher. " — Flannery O'Connor

"One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well. " — Virginia Woolf (A Room of One's Own)

"Dum spiro, spero. (Translation: As long as I breathe, I hope.)" — Latin Proverb

"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. " — Sylvia Plath

"Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese. " — G.K. Chesterton

"You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you." — Ray Bradbury

"If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need." — Marcus Tullius Cicero

"Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up." — Pablo Picasso

"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me." — C.S. Lewis

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." — Ernest Hemingway

"Women are like teabags, you never know how strong they are until they're put in hot water." — Eleanor Roosevelt

"Read in order to live." — Gustave Flaubert

and my personal favorite for this random posting:

"Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them." — Lemony Snicket


something to hate.

June 03, 2008 Candace Morris 4 Comments

As I walked around downtown on my lunch break, I had a thought.

“I could have a child, or I could have cute shoes.”

But I digress.

As I lounged into the soothing spa where I get my eyebrows (ahem) manicured, and this cute little esthetician buzzed about me in her meticulous hair-seeking manner, my mind drifted towards loftier thoughts - as it often does with meditative music, warm light, and prostration.

I got to thinking about the things every woman hates about herself. The nit-picky thing that our friends assure us we are i.n.s.a.n.e to believe and yet the things we simply cannot love about ourselves.

Then my esthetician sweetly moved my wispy, stringy, dull, lifeless bangs out of the way of my eyebrows. Perhaps you can guess what one thing I hate about myself might be.

Shall I list the ways? (bear with me, proving a point):

  • Thin hair
  • Big nose
  • Big red mole on leg
  • Thick legs and ankles
  • Scar on nose
  • Face too round
  • Eyes too little
  • Big hands
  • Breasts too small and hips too big (aka. HELLO PEAR).
  • Feet too big’
  • Gross natural hair color

You get my point. These things I realize are ludicrous, but are the things I have poisoned myself with hating all these years.

So what if I applied the philosophy of self-love that I have been using on my insides to my help heal my OUTSIDES? I think what it means to love my thin hair is to just let it be thin – for me to stop doing millions of things to fight nature and just accept my thin hair. I know I can deal with it, and I think I wear it well – but I still really tragically miss the thick hair I am somehow entitled to.

you know. the hair that god freaking robbed me of. duh.

So I start loving my body like I have decided to love my thoughts and my art with the same motto, “I will love it because it’s mine,” then I believe that can help me start to love my perceived faults.

And wouldn’t you know it. The next time she brushed my hair from my forehead, I had the smallest twinge of affirmation for my hair.

Because it’s mine.

And I will love it. Lemme prove it to you.

I love my skin.
I love my eye color.
I love my lip shape.
I love my nail strength and shape.
I love my sholders.
I love my waist.
I love my how fine, blonde, and nonexistent my leg/arm hair is.



pilfered bloggering

June 03, 2008 Candace Morris 0 Comments

i am such a little thief.

today, while perusing my latest inspiration (did you know she quit her full-time job b/c of blogging?!), i came across blurb. so yeah, what's the big you can use your own pictures to make a coffee table book? i am perusing the site, right...sipping my green tea and eating my banana, and then YES.

ahem. introducing, the blogger book. that's right. you can publish your blog into a BOOOOOOKLKKKKK(ling).

oh man, i think doing this once a year would be such a great way to chronicle my writing.

in other pilferings,
i am in the mood for summer dresses, despite the un-summery weather. though rain is pretty characteristic of june weather in this beautiful city and DAMN IT, I WON'T COMPLAIN.

i will ease my eyes with this dress: (and damn it, someone bought it yesterday!)

today is my last day before the craziness begins for the wedding this weekend. i am planning on deeply enjoying it by relaxing with my husband at home.

i am finally over the first steep hill of transitioning into this new home, and it really feels like a home more and more. it is so strange what happens when you begin to really invest in your home, saving money to buy really beautiful pieces, keeping things simple and uncluttered, and being intentional about the energy and beauty that your home oh-so-willingly can give back to you if you just pamper it for a while and refuse to put anything in your home that you don't love (which is why we still don't have any barstools. well, that and money.)

the living room should be done by next month, then moving on to the kitchen, then bedroom, then bathroom. so by 2009, i should have a killer home. wanna come over and see?

and the truth is...i am, for one of the first times in my life...really willing to wait for it.


a weekday writing whore

June 02, 2008 Candace Morris 3 Comments

i don't use the term whore lightly.

slut, maybe. but not whore.

with this important delineation out there, i am realizing that i am a weekday writing whore. i never, almost never write on the weekends. this is poor, poor form, comrades. i think my writing would be MUCH better on the weekends, sitting under my bay windows (and new lamps, just purchased yesterday, and tying my living room together quite nicely), sipping a bloody mary. but alas, i did spend SOME time on the computer this weekend, but it was to b.a.l.a.n.c.e my chhhheeeccckkkbooookkkk. gross.

but yes, as i was saying. i am sorry to neglect many of you who don't have time to read your favorite blogs on the weekdays. (this should definitely include my blog and the booklings blog, in case you haven't realized how important they are to your daily routine).

Sorry if you are sitting on your lovely lazy weekend without any NEW reading material.

So updates?
Ladies Night #2 went rather well. As it was my turn to host, I made a salad nicoise and it went quite well. It always helps to have a Whole Foods rather close. (I did NOT walk, thank you very much). But I didn't walk to WF because I walked/ran THREEEEEEEE WHOLE MILES on Friday night. It was glorious (once i actually broke down b/c my ipod wasn't working...and then borrowed kelley's!), and I am pondering doing it again tonight). All the ladies looked fabulouser than any of the sluts in attendance, and we just loved loved loved the movie. (again, i LOVE cliche. it's my new favorite). I will soon have pictures to show off. I am hoping someone got one of me, because I just loved my dress and outfit, but forgot to snap it!

Also, in case you didn't know....JUNE IS OFFICIALLY HERE. It's not warm by any means in Seattle, but I care not. It's a month of lighter moods and I will embrace it as such.