Showing posts with label monday. Show all posts

the dream!

Greetings. I have the Monday sickness, which is a fierce desire to organize my life, clean everything in sight, plan every meal for the week, and cross off all my 'to-dos.' When this becomes impossible, right around 2:00 pm, I begin to despair and cry out for my former life.  By 4:00 pm, I am recovered and playing happily with Bowie.  This crazed self will settle down until next Monday, and instead of planning all the things I will do, I just do what's in front of me.  It works out, I suppose.

I believe it is called 'acknowledgement of limitations.'

Aside from that, I would like to announce the I have finally managed to pinpoint my life's dream. Dreaming is a bit hard for my  detail-oriented brain.  In fact, that is one of my marriage's great strengths.  Joel dreams, but has a hard time breaking down that idea into manageable tasks toward completion.  I, on the other hand, am firmly rooted in the practical.  I struggle to see the big picture, because as soon as he begins to dream aloud, I see the action items necessary.  I often care nothing for the grand idea; instead I find immense existential meaning in completion of tasks.  This freaks some people out, whereas some of you resonate easily.

Though neither way of being is more virtuous than the other (indeed the human race needs both types of people in order to thrive), I do think each person should learn to posses both traits.  Naturally, I prefer my way of being, but I've been speaking to myself a lot about dreams, and trying to really keep in check the overly practical side of my brain - you know, for balance sake.  I am not terribly successful at it, because I have noticed that all my answers to what I want to do vocationally are still so dryly practical - I certainly do have difficulty reaching beyond what I perceive as possible.

Today, I found a small answer to this cosmic question.  I want to remember that a vocation, the work of my hands and life, does not necessarily translate into a job.  What I mean is to clarify that asking yourself what you want to do with your life is not the same question (and therefore should not necessarily have the same answer) as asking yourself what your dream job may be.

We all need to feel useful.  The work of our lives is key to our identity and happiness. As Americans (read workaholics), I think we automatically equate life satisfaction with job satisfaction.  "What's your dream job" is synonymous with discovering the point of your existence.  I think it's dooodoo.  For some of us, I think the path to personal fulfillment comes by separating these questions.  For others, it makes more sense to marry those questions.

Either way, as I was journaling this morning, I realized my dream!
(I implore you to please forgive the horrendous spelling errors)


Easy.


Rorschach tea-stains

tea stain

It must freaking be Monday.
I forgot how to drink tea for a second, consequently spilling it on my white blouse (that I took an extra 10 minutes this morning to ACTUALLY IRON!  Who even irons anymore?!).  

Before I rolled my eyes at the "of course I did that" moment, I noticed that the water oxi-pen that I used to clean it had formed a rather lovely shape.  I could only interpret this heart-shaped stain as a good, no, GREAT sign.  After this divine vision, small though it be, a flood of yaysaying surged through my mind.  There are several good things to share.

1.  After an amazing Saturday, Joel and I moved our futon out to the fireplace, started a fire, and blared classical music and symphonic movie soundtracks throughout the house.  For a solid 3 hours, we stared at the fire and reveled in music.  I wondered to myself when the last time I just sat down to really listen to music was.  I felt like a teenager again, lounging around in my room.  Then, at midnight, we got a hankering for crepes.  Breakfast at midnight = festive! It was one of my most memorable and favorite dates I've ever had with my lover.

2.  I am leaving on Wednesday to spend some much needed time with Kelly and Brad and the animals.  Joel and I are driving down and really looking forward to some leisurely long hours in the car.  We will talk, and we will eat. Joel will listen to Carl Sagan and I will sleep.  C'est parfait.

3.  My weekly weigh-in went so well today.  I lost and I feel really great about it.  It's amazing what a sober week can do for a girl's waistline!

Cheers to the silver-lining of spilling on your shirt,

this and that

Happy Monday, readers and friends.  How do you fare this morning?  I find myself rested, elevated in spirits, and rearing to go this week.  Today marks the beginning of week one of my commitment to bikini season.  I am praying for a trip to Hawaii this fall, and am simply not well enough to feel good strutting around.

layers

For the next 10 or so weeks, I am buckling down and reclaiming that my best days, my most beautiful days, are ahead of me.
(Say it to your soul today for me too, won't you?)



A few items of this and that to report, in random and capricious order:


Joel and I are geeking out to a(nother) BBC miniseries called Downton Abbey.  This after we just finished watching Howard's End and North and South.  A shared interest of all things British has been a wonderfully common ground for Joel and I of late.  Truthfully, we do not share the same taste in movies and TV and will often enjoy them separately alone.  It is awfully nice to love something together, do you think?
__________

I saw this for the first time, finally.
What do I think of Fellini?  I am not sure.  Bizarre, beautiful, decadent.
__________
    Rewatched this and this.
    __________
      Read this.
      __________

      photo

      Waited for Joel to get ready while playing this 

      pho, no meat...extra broccoli
      so we could go eat this.

      Pho with no meat, extra broccoli. I add a lot of plum sauce, a few dabs of sriracha, a bunch of basil, and a twist of fresh lime.  Add a chrysanthemum tea with honey and you have a cheap and delicious city lunch.

      The weekend was full of awesome meals, actually.  Joel and I are addicted to this Cuban sandwich place called Pasoe's.  It's ridiculous.  I am taking you there if you come to Seattle.

      We also met up for a spontaneous brunch and spent all Sunday morning lounging in the company of our friends and awesome food.
      (Also happy to report that I was able to stay under 10 drinks this week.  Quite proud of myself, quite proud.)

      __________

      Cleaned out the closet and sold some clothes at a consignment store.  Felt so good!  Afterward, I spent my store credit on a great pair of black pleated slacks - something I've been wanting for some time, but just couldn't find any that flattered my pear shape.

      __________

      It's my girl's birthday!  It happens to be a special one. Last year at this time she was diagnosed with breast cancer, and now - completely cancer free.
      (knock on wood, pray to god, cross your fingers...whatever you do to bend the universe to your will)
      Happiest of Birthdays, Kelly dear.  This year is going to be the best one yet.


      Affectionately Yours,


      TOO MANY PRONGS ON THE UTENSILS OF LIFE

      I've been kind of waiting for it to go away but since it's lingering, I suppose I shall extract it thus.  This aforementioned it is this gnawing, annoyingly cold-sore-like discontent that keeps distracting me from enjoying my life.  The little bits, the big bits, they both seem to be growing and swirling in the balloon-sized wine glass of my psyche...and the sulfites are giving me a headache.  Ensue rant:

      1. I miss being busy.  Though everyone seems to be quite jealous of this in me, I must admit that I enjoy  being busy and thriving upon tasks.  However, if these tasks are meaningless and invented solely to keep me busy, I rebel and cannot complete them.  I've said it before, but I've quite married myself to the idea that I might be addicted to meaning and have an overdose in my life.

      2. I am quite discontent at the adjustment in lifestyle.  How I miss the bustling energy of Capitol Hill - the subconscious knowledge that SOMETHING was going on somewhere, SOMEONE was having the time of their life, and if not...were at least in existential crisis over it and hardly complacently adapted to their less than ideal jobs, etc, etc.  When you live with the young, you live with mercenaries.  When you  live with no one, you've only yourself to glean inspiration from.  I feel uninspiring to me this ordinary night in late December.

      3. I feel bored with the things I usually love...writing, photography, art, fashion, cooking, etc.

      4. I've absolutely NOTHING to wear, ever.

      5. Due to No. 2, I do not walk anymore.  I've therefore espoused a new weighty 5 lbs that I cannot seem to divorce from my nether regions.  On top of this, I need a hair cut, eye-brow attention, and mani/pedi.  These things may seem trivial to some, but they are truly integral to me feeling like me...put together, taken care of, lovely.

      6. I've gotten to thinking about my goals for 2010...the goals aside from the financial and fitness.  I've wondered if I should go back to work to find some sort of structure to my day; I've seriously pondered going back to school online; perhaps this is the year I start marketing myself and producing myself as a professional blogger/writer.  I stand at this many-pronged fork (YOU KNOW, LIKE THE ONES THEY SERVE WITH A 20-COURSE MEAL THAT YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHEN TO USE), and I feel nothing.  I feel no passion or inclination towards anything.  
      In my soul, I feel big and blue.
      I'VE BECOME THE BLOB.

      I think the only remedy is lots and lots of dancing.
      Know any hot clubs in Hobart, Wa?

      Blerg.
      It must be the Monday after Christmas.

      Herein lies the question for you, tell me.  What do you do for inspiration?

      ~Back to the tequila,
      crm

      It's a slow life for me...

      I am a snail of a lady...often fighting off lethargy and physical apathy.
      I am an owl of a lady...often in the shadows, quietly observant, aloof and wise.
      I am a willow...a rooted beauty swaying in the breeze.

      I live life slowly.
      I know this about myself. I have only just accepted my pace without the shame of this American life. I have bitten back when the bug of productivity tries to prostitute my worth. But this last summer, oh my...it has been a busy one. Truly, one of the best summers was never had, but it has been SO packed with lots of social gatherings with lots of people.

      I don't do groups very well.
      Correction: I don't enjoy groups very well.
      The bubbling cauldron of everyone's issues mucking and mixing together burns my soul to the core.

      That being said, I can do groups if I've managed to have approximately 1.5 tons of solitude. I am a solitude whore; an alone-time glutton. Though I have been able to fill my solitude tank to the brim, I noticed that since early July it has been rapidly depleting. It totally, fully caught up with me.

      So this last week and weekend, I decided no groups. It was a good decision and by no means an antisocial one. I was able to see almost all of my friends on a one on one intimate basis. And this weekend? The first weekend with no big event. Oh so nice.



      We went to Mom and Dad's house both days this weekend and stopped at yard sales, picked berries off the wild branches, took naps on a bright yellow blanket, ate too much pasta even WITH the smell of blackberry cobbler cooking, clipped dahlias, cuddled with Abbey, squeezed fresh limes, smelled tomato plants, and just rested, rested, rested.









      And consequently, today...Monday, it feels grand and hopeful.
      Here's to your Monday, your self-worth, and your weekends of nothing,


      monday morning pokeys

      you didn't hear it from me first. i stole it from the alaska air lady on the phone. i was changing a reservation for my boss, and she explained that the computer was slow, that it had the "monday morning pokeys." i loved the aptness of the phrase so much that i am stealing it now.


      and isn't it the truth? i think my work day would be so much better if i could do a 10am-3pm day and poke around in the morning.
      (let's just pretend for a minute that i would actually get out of bed earlier than like 30 min before i had to leave.)



      In this imaginary world, i would make my bed leisurely, inspire myself with my daily blog fix, enrich my eyes on etsy, take plenty of time to ponder my outfit, read a chapter in Augustine's confessions while gazing out my sunny window, sip some jasmine tea, make some poached eggs and orange juice, take a long shower, listen to NPR, lovingly put myself together for the day, and then leisurely walk to work.

      you realize that in reality, it's probably about 2pm before i would get any of this done. but hey, it's imaginary!

      i just love to poke, poke, poke.

      people need to poke more.

      outside of this poking, my head is a-brimming with lists galore. last night, while relaxing in bath (honey, this is where my most amazing thoughtlings occur), I realized that I needed to start a list of ways to spoil myself. i did this list this morning, and i am quite happy with it. i then prioritized this list by most wanted/necessary (i have included the expensive hairspray and mascara i like on this list), and am now able to clear the flow of ideas in my mind due to this cleansing list. oh listlings!!!! i just adore you so.

      another listing happening is my apartment projects. i have to prioritize them, and this is the hardest part for me. candace is a very impatient bird, my friends...so there isn't a lot of waiting that wants to naturally occur. but alas, each item requires green monies, so i am forced to wait. and the waiting is goodness for my souling.


      i am annoying myself with the -ings. you?

      in tragic news...in the porting of a leftover salad, i managed to spill caesar dressing on the inside of my decidedly hugeific purse. i will now be on the bus and vampires and ghouls alike will be repelled from my garlicky essence. i guess i really DO have to get a new purse now...oh darns.

      happy pokeys, my invaluable loves.