I finally emptied by laptop enough to make some free space so I don'thave to worry about the big crash every time I turn the poor thing on and it reads: "Startup Disk Full."
I've got about 10,000 things I would like to write about, but Ive also got about 10,000 pages to read in order to catch up in my courses.
I'll be back soon.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
La Dolce Vita
Now that I got my raise (a modest one, but every little bit helps), despite the global recession, I'm still looking to fail... but that's another post...
Anyways, money is tight everywhere, for practically everyone... and it's likely that we're all gonna feel the squeeze even more in these coming months.
Growing up with a mother who had endured a childhood living in poverty has taught me that being short on cash doesn't mean that life can't be rich.
My mom grew up in a home complete with plywood walls. It made for extremely cold winters considering that she lived much of her childhood years in the interior of B.C. She told us about how she used to wake up on those winter mornings with frost down the walls. She and her siblings slept under those grey scratchy wool blankets. They didn't have a bathroom, but instead had to make treks out to the out house, and bathe in a big tin wash bucket.
She had a doll (emphasis on the lack of plural), and she loved it. While she loved sports, she never got to be part of a team because her family couldn't afford the gas to pick her up after practice.
I have had the privilege of learning from the best on how to pinch pennies, and growing up hearing about her childhood, I have an entirely different view on what it means to be poor, and conversely, what it means to be blessed.
Being thrifty is bred into me, but there's always room to grow. I actually wear my ability to be thrifty as a badge of honour and I am always looking for inspiration and ideas.
One of my favourite blogs is Pink Of Perfection: A Thrifty Girl's Guide to La Dolce Vita.
Just looking at her blog makes me want to cook and craft and enjoy what I have at the tips of my fingers. Like the practice of building muscle, the thrifty/crafty "muscle" must be flexed and worked in order to be built up. My experience over the past year (just over three weeks shy of my buy nothing new), despite my slip in buying shoes the other week, has really taught me that there is potential in a lot of stuff that I would've normally passed by. I was telling my mom the other day that I was talking through the dollar store and I came upon a pair of men's XXL red and black checked boxers and right away my mind's eye flashed an extremely cute capelet.
I joked with my friend Liz that it is an illness. Rarely can I ever let anything be the way it is. I'm constantly looking at ugly, goofy things wondering how they could be altered into something great.
While this past year has greatly improved my "thrift/creative muscle"- I am well aware there are people out there who could put me and my men's dollar store boxer capelet to shame, and I find heaps of inspiration in their ability to squeeze every last drop from a thrifty life so that instead of living life looking at all the things they cannot afford, they see a challenge to use what's available to build la dolce vita
Anyways, money is tight everywhere, for practically everyone... and it's likely that we're all gonna feel the squeeze even more in these coming months.
Growing up with a mother who had endured a childhood living in poverty has taught me that being short on cash doesn't mean that life can't be rich.
My mom grew up in a home complete with plywood walls. It made for extremely cold winters considering that she lived much of her childhood years in the interior of B.C. She told us about how she used to wake up on those winter mornings with frost down the walls. She and her siblings slept under those grey scratchy wool blankets. They didn't have a bathroom, but instead had to make treks out to the out house, and bathe in a big tin wash bucket.
She had a doll (emphasis on the lack of plural), and she loved it. While she loved sports, she never got to be part of a team because her family couldn't afford the gas to pick her up after practice.
I have had the privilege of learning from the best on how to pinch pennies, and growing up hearing about her childhood, I have an entirely different view on what it means to be poor, and conversely, what it means to be blessed.
Being thrifty is bred into me, but there's always room to grow. I actually wear my ability to be thrifty as a badge of honour and I am always looking for inspiration and ideas.
One of my favourite blogs is Pink Of Perfection: A Thrifty Girl's Guide to La Dolce Vita.
Just looking at her blog makes me want to cook and craft and enjoy what I have at the tips of my fingers. Like the practice of building muscle, the thrifty/crafty "muscle" must be flexed and worked in order to be built up. My experience over the past year (just over three weeks shy of my buy nothing new), despite my slip in buying shoes the other week, has really taught me that there is potential in a lot of stuff that I would've normally passed by. I was telling my mom the other day that I was talking through the dollar store and I came upon a pair of men's XXL red and black checked boxers and right away my mind's eye flashed an extremely cute capelet.
I joked with my friend Liz that it is an illness. Rarely can I ever let anything be the way it is. I'm constantly looking at ugly, goofy things wondering how they could be altered into something great.
While this past year has greatly improved my "thrift/creative muscle"- I am well aware there are people out there who could put me and my men's dollar store boxer capelet to shame, and I find heaps of inspiration in their ability to squeeze every last drop from a thrifty life so that instead of living life looking at all the things they cannot afford, they see a challenge to use what's available to build la dolce vita
Monday, January 19, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Sometimes
Sometimes I write about silly fluff. A lot in life is silly fluff.
...and then there are moments that life gets very real. Only a few weeks into a new year, and life has gotten very real. My heart has been broken. Not for myself, but for my friends.
Life feels heavy. There isn't much time that goes by that I don't think about them. That I don't whisper a short prayer for peace.
So sometimes I write about fluff because life is too real.
I am not the victim. By no means should anyone feel even slightly sorry for me. My life is good. I believe I am extremely blessed.
But then there are friends who are being stretched, knocked down, beat up... friends who are suffering, who are grieving.
And it is in this that I am learning love. Never in my life have I told my friends that I love them with such honesty and intimacy.
And it is not a one-way street. Despite the swells that threaten to topple- they have reached out to me and shown me love... and I am amazed.
It has cast an entirely different light on all my relationships. It has made me appreciate people in a way I never have before.
A wise friend of mine has said that a person is truly and richly blessed when they have a small handful of friends/family who really do support them, and that the rest doesn't matter.
Another wise friend says that friends are the family that you choose. Not everyone is blessed with the most stable and supportive biological family, and even if they are, there are friends who come along and become sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers.
If I have written more fluff lately than usual, it is because my words cannot do justice to the reality of life. Sometimes life comes down to that which is unspoken: a ringing phone, hugs, tears, laughter, understanding, silence, love, patience, and just showing up.
...and then there are moments that life gets very real. Only a few weeks into a new year, and life has gotten very real. My heart has been broken. Not for myself, but for my friends.
Life feels heavy. There isn't much time that goes by that I don't think about them. That I don't whisper a short prayer for peace.
So sometimes I write about fluff because life is too real.
I am not the victim. By no means should anyone feel even slightly sorry for me. My life is good. I believe I am extremely blessed.
But then there are friends who are being stretched, knocked down, beat up... friends who are suffering, who are grieving.
And it is in this that I am learning love. Never in my life have I told my friends that I love them with such honesty and intimacy.
And it is not a one-way street. Despite the swells that threaten to topple- they have reached out to me and shown me love... and I am amazed.
It has cast an entirely different light on all my relationships. It has made me appreciate people in a way I never have before.
A wise friend of mine has said that a person is truly and richly blessed when they have a small handful of friends/family who really do support them, and that the rest doesn't matter.
Another wise friend says that friends are the family that you choose. Not everyone is blessed with the most stable and supportive biological family, and even if they are, there are friends who come along and become sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers.
If I have written more fluff lately than usual, it is because my words cannot do justice to the reality of life. Sometimes life comes down to that which is unspoken: a ringing phone, hugs, tears, laughter, understanding, silence, love, patience, and just showing up.
To Do: Become Friends With Failure
Like I've already stated in my "To Do" list- I want to fail more.
Despite the pain and inevitable embarrassment (as I am somewhat of a perfectionist), I really do hope to get better acquainted with failure so that I don't fear it so much.
I came across this quote tonight. I am going to post it somewhere that I will see it often, so that I am not tempted to slide back into the safe, dull comfort of only trying things I'm practically guaranteed success at.
PS- no word on my raise, but a girl can dream... and work 60hrs a week.
Despite the pain and inevitable embarrassment (as I am somewhat of a perfectionist), I really do hope to get better acquainted with failure so that I don't fear it so much.
I came across this quote tonight. I am going to post it somewhere that I will see it often, so that I am not tempted to slide back into the safe, dull comfort of only trying things I'm practically guaranteed success at.
Failure should be our teacher, not our undertaker. Failure is delay, not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead end. Failure is something we can avoid only by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.
- Denis Waitley
PS- no word on my raise, but a girl can dream... and work 60hrs a week.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Bejeweler
When I was a kid, my mom sewed a ton of our clothes. We had THE BEST Halloween costumes because she made them from scratch.
One year I was a princess (I used to tell people that I wanted to be a princess when I grew up... ah the joys of childhood naïveté). My mom made me this beautiful pink dress with a separate bejeweled pullover vest.
I LOVED that vest. I used to wear it alone with only a pair of underwear. I would pretend that it was my gymnastics outfit. More specifically, my "fantastics" outfit. Fantastics was my own special blend of dance and gymnastics. I used to spend hours in the basement doing rolls, pirouettes, flips and jumps. My bejeweled vest made me feel ultra-sassy.
I remember my mom telling me to put on pants on numerous occasions. It used to anger me to no end. Why couldn't she see that I was wearing my uniform- fantastics can't be practiced with pants!!!
Last month a turned 26, and I wanted to buy myself a bejeweler. I was sure there'd be something in the toy store, but I had no luck. I DID, however, stumble upon some awfully pretty gems in Michaels. The moment I got home I dumped them all out and sorted them into colours.
Now to make my fantastics outfit...
One year I was a princess (I used to tell people that I wanted to be a princess when I grew up... ah the joys of childhood naïveté). My mom made me this beautiful pink dress with a separate bejeweled pullover vest.
I LOVED that vest. I used to wear it alone with only a pair of underwear. I would pretend that it was my gymnastics outfit. More specifically, my "fantastics" outfit. Fantastics was my own special blend of dance and gymnastics. I used to spend hours in the basement doing rolls, pirouettes, flips and jumps. My bejeweled vest made me feel ultra-sassy.
I remember my mom telling me to put on pants on numerous occasions. It used to anger me to no end. Why couldn't she see that I was wearing my uniform- fantastics can't be practiced with pants!!!
Last month a turned 26, and I wanted to buy myself a bejeweler. I was sure there'd be something in the toy store, but I had no luck. I DID, however, stumble upon some awfully pretty gems in Michaels. The moment I got home I dumped them all out and sorted them into colours.
Now to make my fantastics outfit...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence
Last week as I was running errands I ducked into our local bookstore to see what I could add to my bookshelf or coffee table.
After a few minutes of browsing I came across the "Funny/Comedy" section, as I flipped open Amy Sedaris' book, I found myself laughing out loud at the pure stupidity of it.
I grabbed the last two copies (one for myself, and the other for a friend who could use a laugh) and headed out into the snow.
While it feels strange to laugh to the point of tears at a book, that's exactly what I've been doing. It's especially awkward when read in a room full of people who have no clue why you think what looks like a recipe book is so funny.
And for some, the humour isn't their style- it's random and stupid at best.
I just happen to LOVE random and stupid.
From what little I have read, here's a few teasers to give you an idea:
On children’s parties:
On entertaining the elderly:
Even if you don’t want to be the host:
A recipe idea:
As I stated in my "to do" list at the beginning of the month, I want to laugh more and take myself less seriously... done.
After a few minutes of browsing I came across the "Funny/Comedy" section, as I flipped open Amy Sedaris' book, I found myself laughing out loud at the pure stupidity of it.
I grabbed the last two copies (one for myself, and the other for a friend who could use a laugh) and headed out into the snow.
While it feels strange to laugh to the point of tears at a book, that's exactly what I've been doing. It's especially awkward when read in a room full of people who have no clue why you think what looks like a recipe book is so funny.
And for some, the humour isn't their style- it's random and stupid at best.
I just happen to LOVE random and stupid.
From what little I have read, here's a few teasers to give you an idea:
When I started this book I fantasized that I would be able to do it on my own and in my spare time (how hard can it be? It’s recipes…). But after a few minutes of trying to type, that quaint fantasy quickly turned into desperate phone calls. It turns out to be very hard to steal a recipe.
On children’s parties:
Children before [the age of five] are too young to understand the concept of presents. You can gift wrap a head of cabbage and give it to a two-year-old and they won’t know the difference... [AND] Children’s parties should have a set time-limit, like "from 2 to 2:30," because, given a child’s boundless energy and the lack of yours, you will never wear them down.
On entertaining the elderly:
It’s never good to stereotype. All of your guests are individuals with different needs. Except in the case of the elderly. You can pretty much count on all of them not liking loud music and being cold.
Even if you don’t want to be the host:
There is nothing wrong with not wanting to be a hospitable person and have groups of people in your home touching your personables. Luckily, this sturdy book wll also inform you on how to be the perfect guest. From the minute you say, "yes I’ll be there," until the moment you say "I’m sorry, I should go," you have an important role in making the party a hit.
A recipe idea:
Take the chewed up cracker that is in your mouth and top it on another cracker and eat it
As I stated in my "to do" list at the beginning of the month, I want to laugh more and take myself less seriously... done.
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