House is locked up.
Car is packed up.
And the traffic is backed up.
(Actually, I'm not sure whether or not the traffic is backed up, but I liked the way it sounded).
I'm leaving in a few of hours to drive down to Los Angeles and Palm Springs for vacation. I'm bouncing off the walls I'm so excited. The last time I was in L.A., I accidently pulled between the Osbornes and the camera crew as they drove down the street during their reality show. The last time I was in Palm Springs, I happened upon Anna Nicole-Smith (and Howard and Kimmy) on her reality show. I wonder what's in store for me this time.
See you when I return!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Lives lost
I have lost two cousins within a month.
One from a short, unexpected illness. The other from a tragic car accident.
The accident happened on Sunday night. I heard about it on the radio. A fatal head-on collision. The road was closed for two hours on both sides. Whenever I hear sirens or news like that, i always whisper, "oh please god, help them be well..." you just never know when it might be someone you know. I would hope someone would whisper that for me if I were in that situation.
His father died the same way. He was my dad's younger brother. Driving along on his own side of the lane when a car came out of nowhere and killed him head-on. My cousin was 43. His father was just 46.
Three of my friends have also lost a parent these past two weeks. And a long time family friend passed away this morning.
My mom called me and told me. She said, "Ya know, I was wanting him to do tile work in my bathroom. I've been meaning to call him. And I didn't. Just goes to show you, you just never know..."
I remember going to his out-door garden wedding in a small country town in Boonville, California when I was maybe only 10 years old. He appeared so old to me. But now I'm guessing he was only in his thirties.
Within a month ago, all of these people were alive in this world. Living their life, making plans. Putting things off until tomorrow. Now they are not. Seems so sudden. So final. So unfair.
I am so grateful to be in this life. I do belong in it. For however long, isn't promised to me. I hope I make it as full as I can.
It is so beautiful outside. Spring is exploding with so much fragrance. I can hear someone hammering in the distance. I see two quail outside my window strolling quietly along on a date. And there is a fly buzzing up against the window behind me, wishing to escape back outside into this glorious weather. I wish it would, too.
I love this time of year. I wonder how many Springs I will enjoy in my lifetime. I hope to enjoy at least 50 more. Though it doesn't seem like nearly enough. No not nearly enough. Life is short.
I'm off to make the most of it.
One from a short, unexpected illness. The other from a tragic car accident.
The accident happened on Sunday night. I heard about it on the radio. A fatal head-on collision. The road was closed for two hours on both sides. Whenever I hear sirens or news like that, i always whisper, "oh please god, help them be well..." you just never know when it might be someone you know. I would hope someone would whisper that for me if I were in that situation.
His father died the same way. He was my dad's younger brother. Driving along on his own side of the lane when a car came out of nowhere and killed him head-on. My cousin was 43. His father was just 46.
Three of my friends have also lost a parent these past two weeks. And a long time family friend passed away this morning.
My mom called me and told me. She said, "Ya know, I was wanting him to do tile work in my bathroom. I've been meaning to call him. And I didn't. Just goes to show you, you just never know..."
I remember going to his out-door garden wedding in a small country town in Boonville, California when I was maybe only 10 years old. He appeared so old to me. But now I'm guessing he was only in his thirties.
Within a month ago, all of these people were alive in this world. Living their life, making plans. Putting things off until tomorrow. Now they are not. Seems so sudden. So final. So unfair.
I am so grateful to be in this life. I do belong in it. For however long, isn't promised to me. I hope I make it as full as I can.
It is so beautiful outside. Spring is exploding with so much fragrance. I can hear someone hammering in the distance. I see two quail outside my window strolling quietly along on a date. And there is a fly buzzing up against the window behind me, wishing to escape back outside into this glorious weather. I wish it would, too.
I love this time of year. I wonder how many Springs I will enjoy in my lifetime. I hope to enjoy at least 50 more. Though it doesn't seem like nearly enough. No not nearly enough. Life is short.
I'm off to make the most of it.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Every snowflake is unique
Will you take a look at these photos of frozen water?
The photographs are the result of Mr. Emoto's research in freezing drops of water and then examining them under a microscope and taking photographs of them.
It is so amazing. If you have had any doubts at all that your thoughts don't affect everything around you, then this just might profoundly change your mind. It really makes you wonder doesn’t it? If words can do that to water, what are they doing to us?
The possibilities are truely endless. . .
The photographs are the result of Mr. Emoto's research in freezing drops of water and then examining them under a microscope and taking photographs of them.
It is so amazing. If you have had any doubts at all that your thoughts don't affect everything around you, then this just might profoundly change your mind. It really makes you wonder doesn’t it? If words can do that to water, what are they doing to us?
The possibilities are truely endless. . .
Friday, March 2, 2007
Dick and Jane lunchbox
Here is a Dick and Jane lunchbox I designed. It will be available in stores in a couple of months. It will be filled with the perfect amount of Dick and Jane fabric to create a quilt with.It will also have the quilt pattern inside with directions.
I don't sew.
Well. I took a sewing class in 8th grade. Miss Anderson was my teacher and she always wore chopsticks in her hair. Or maybe it was large knitting needles.
I really only remember three things about sewing :
1. The thimble.
I got such a kick out of wearing a thimble in class. I would draw a smiling face on my thumb and pretend the thimble was a hat for my thumb. I called it my "thumb buddy". "You're nobody until Thumb Buddy loves you," I would say. (cringe)
2. The pin cushion.
I loved the sensation of sticking pins in the cushion. It was a guilty pleasure.
3. The sewing machine accelerator.
I loved to press down on the accelerator of the sewing machine. I would pretend to be driving a car along a bumpy, gravel road watching the needle move up and down faster and faster. The shift would be the level in the back that I would lift to raise the needle up.
No, I didn't learn to sew very well. But it certainly satisfied my craving to drive a car just a tiny bit.
I wonder what I will do with my Dick and Jane lunchbox. Maybe I will store tubes of paints in it. Or carry my lunch in it to work. With all the warnings about different food needing to be promptly stored in the refrigerator, its a wonder none of us as kids got food poisoning from leaving our baloney and mayonnaise sandwiches out in the warm classroom for so many hours. Especially when we saved half the sandwich for after school.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
69,982.8 miles
So. I got a letter from my car insurance company asking me to write down the mileage on my car and the estimated miles I expected to drive in a year. It seemed to be a very important letter because it stated that if I didn't send the sheet in within thirty days they could (or would) raise my rates!
So not wanting that, I quickly enter the garage, open my car door and look at the mileage.
It reads: 70,000 miles.
No kidding.
Not a mile more. Not a mile less.
So I walk back into the kitchen from the garage and return to the sheet.
I think for a minute before writing anything down.
And then I write: my mileage: 69,982.8
. . . because I was worried they would think I was lying if I wrote down the truth.
So not wanting that, I quickly enter the garage, open my car door and look at the mileage.
It reads: 70,000 miles.
No kidding.
Not a mile more. Not a mile less.
So I walk back into the kitchen from the garage and return to the sheet.
I think for a minute before writing anything down.
And then I write: my mileage: 69,982.8
. . . because I was worried they would think I was lying if I wrote down the truth.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Believe it or Not!
Do you remember Rodney Allen Rippy from the Jack in the Box commercials a zillion years ago and he couldn't talk because his jumbo jack burger was too big?
Well, he wasn't born in my hometown, but believe it or not, Robert L. Ripley was! Yup! He was born in Santa Rosa and is buried here. too. And, in fact, I walked past his birthplace and his final burial ground just this afternoon. See those photos? He was born in that house and is now buried less than a mile way. (Notice the orbs? I sware.. I never heard of an orb until a month ago on my blog!) Now they're everywhere!
I walk past his house quite a bit on warm evenings.
He was a talented, self-taught artist and sold his first drawing to LIFE magazine when he was just 14 years old! He at one point, nearly became a professional baseball player but he broke his pitcher's arm while playing his first professional game.
As you know, Charles Schulz also lived in my hometown and his drawings were first published by Robert Ripley in his "Ripley's Believe It or Not!" back in 1937.
Read more amazing facts about him.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Just say No
"What will you charge to design a business logo / t-shirt design / an ad for me? I don't want you to spend any more than twenty minutes on it..."
Do you know how many times I have been asked that?
A few months ago I was asked, "Can you do 30 high-end illustrations for my book I hope to publish? I don't have any money but can pay you once it gets published. If. it. gets. published."
My backbone just got a bit tougher today.
Just say no.
Let me tell you about a recent experience. I was hired to do a lot of illustration work for a large toy company. I was thrilled! It was budgeted for $300 for the project and I started working on it at once. It sounded fun and easy enough and I thought I could design it between five and seven hours. What I didn't take into account, was that the creative director was difficult to please and after excessive and relentless amount of changes, it took me 43 hours and I only ended up making $6.42 an hour for the completed project before taxes.
Last week the creative director called me in a panic: "Shawn! I need your help again! I need more artwork! Much like the previous one you did! Can you do it!? I need it on my desk first thing in the morning!"
I cancelled dinner plans and went to work on it right away. I took her art direction from the previous job, and created work I was proud of. I worked through the night and uploaded the project an hour before she downloaded it. Mission accomplished. It felt good she could count on me. I told her I wouldn't let her down and I didn't. I was so excited to hear how her meeting went. I sent her a ton of well wishes.
She sent me off a quick email. "Looks great! Thank you!!"
And then I sent her an invoice for both projects.
I charged her on the agreed price of $300 for the first project that ended up taking me 43 hours and $300 for the similiar project that took me nine hours.
Last night I received a rather cool email from her that left me feeling dehydrated. She coldly remarked that the second project which I worked all through the night was only budgeted in the price range of $75.
Her words made me feel sad and used up. I wrote her back immediately but did not back down on my price.
Freelance business can be a tough business. I've done it off and on most of my life and happily for me, I am employed now and only do freelance on occasion. But it's so easy to say yes to accepting low paying jobs with unappreciative or difficult clients because it pays the bills and it will look good in the portfolio.
About fifteen years ago, I videotaped weddings for a living.
The daughter of a doctor-friend I respected a great deal hired me to videotape her wedding but cancelled at the last minute due to going over her wedding budget. She invited me, instead, to attend the wedding. As a kind gesture and excitement of attending the wedding, I went ahead and with my crew, we videotaped her wedding, anyway, as a wedding present. It didn't cost just our time, but it cost me quite a bit of money in tapes and mics and rental fees and gas for the 3-hour trip. Two months later, I got a call from her brother who I didn't know. "Can you videotape our wedding on the beach in Malibu in September?" I was so excited!
"Of course!" I told him.
For a moment there, I actually believed that my doctor friend who I so loved and admired, would want me to be paid this time around to videotape her son's wedding. I thought it was so obvious, because she knew the endless hours and energy and expense it took to create her daughter's wedding videotape a few months earlier. But. Somewhere during the conversation, he said "I'm so glad! My mother said you'd probably love to do it for free and we don't have any money to pay you for your travels or the hotel... so I appreciate you saying yes..."
I stood there with the phone to my ear, stunned. I could barely speak. Somehow, I managed to choke out the words "I will not do it for free..."
It would have cost me several hundred dollars to do it for free out of my own pocket. I was young and vulnerable and charged cheaper rates to get the job. But I believe my cheaper prices was the very reason why they didn't respect me in the first place.
I stopped that business after one last wedding I had booked and that was it for me.
After last night and much contemplation today, I have decided to be much more selective of my freelance clients. I want to work with people I like and people who value my creativity. Too often in my past, I felt obligated to work on a project simply because I was asked to do it. And because I would feel guilty for turning down a paying job no-matter-the-price.
Being self-employed can be absolutely wonderful and it is for so many artists. It can open doors to great opportunities and financial success and lots more freedom. But it can also be full of distractions and tempting choices that take you away from the very activity that you really want to make time for.
We can get too caught up on doing mundane and low-paying work that pays the bills, but we run out of time to do what we really dream about. At least, it has certainly been that way with me many times.
Today, even though I feel used up and depleted, I'm so grateful I have a fulltime creative job that I enjoy and don't need to rely on outside jobs to put food on my table. And I will focus on that. I will be grateful for the job I have. And for now on, I will only do freelance work that I love by those who value my work.
Do you know how many times I have been asked that?
A few months ago I was asked, "Can you do 30 high-end illustrations for my book I hope to publish? I don't have any money but can pay you once it gets published. If. it. gets. published."
My backbone just got a bit tougher today.
Just say no.
Let me tell you about a recent experience. I was hired to do a lot of illustration work for a large toy company. I was thrilled! It was budgeted for $300 for the project and I started working on it at once. It sounded fun and easy enough and I thought I could design it between five and seven hours. What I didn't take into account, was that the creative director was difficult to please and after excessive and relentless amount of changes, it took me 43 hours and I only ended up making $6.42 an hour for the completed project before taxes.
Last week the creative director called me in a panic: "Shawn! I need your help again! I need more artwork! Much like the previous one you did! Can you do it!? I need it on my desk first thing in the morning!"
I cancelled dinner plans and went to work on it right away. I took her art direction from the previous job, and created work I was proud of. I worked through the night and uploaded the project an hour before she downloaded it. Mission accomplished. It felt good she could count on me. I told her I wouldn't let her down and I didn't. I was so excited to hear how her meeting went. I sent her a ton of well wishes.
She sent me off a quick email. "Looks great! Thank you!!"
And then I sent her an invoice for both projects.
I charged her on the agreed price of $300 for the first project that ended up taking me 43 hours and $300 for the similiar project that took me nine hours.
Last night I received a rather cool email from her that left me feeling dehydrated. She coldly remarked that the second project which I worked all through the night was only budgeted in the price range of $75.
Her words made me feel sad and used up. I wrote her back immediately but did not back down on my price.
Freelance business can be a tough business. I've done it off and on most of my life and happily for me, I am employed now and only do freelance on occasion. But it's so easy to say yes to accepting low paying jobs with unappreciative or difficult clients because it pays the bills and it will look good in the portfolio.
About fifteen years ago, I videotaped weddings for a living.
The daughter of a doctor-friend I respected a great deal hired me to videotape her wedding but cancelled at the last minute due to going over her wedding budget. She invited me, instead, to attend the wedding. As a kind gesture and excitement of attending the wedding, I went ahead and with my crew, we videotaped her wedding, anyway, as a wedding present. It didn't cost just our time, but it cost me quite a bit of money in tapes and mics and rental fees and gas for the 3-hour trip. Two months later, I got a call from her brother who I didn't know. "Can you videotape our wedding on the beach in Malibu in September?" I was so excited!
"Of course!" I told him.
For a moment there, I actually believed that my doctor friend who I so loved and admired, would want me to be paid this time around to videotape her son's wedding. I thought it was so obvious, because she knew the endless hours and energy and expense it took to create her daughter's wedding videotape a few months earlier. But. Somewhere during the conversation, he said "I'm so glad! My mother said you'd probably love to do it for free and we don't have any money to pay you for your travels or the hotel... so I appreciate you saying yes..."
I stood there with the phone to my ear, stunned. I could barely speak. Somehow, I managed to choke out the words "I will not do it for free..."
It would have cost me several hundred dollars to do it for free out of my own pocket. I was young and vulnerable and charged cheaper rates to get the job. But I believe my cheaper prices was the very reason why they didn't respect me in the first place.
I stopped that business after one last wedding I had booked and that was it for me.
After last night and much contemplation today, I have decided to be much more selective of my freelance clients. I want to work with people I like and people who value my creativity. Too often in my past, I felt obligated to work on a project simply because I was asked to do it. And because I would feel guilty for turning down a paying job no-matter-the-price.
Being self-employed can be absolutely wonderful and it is for so many artists. It can open doors to great opportunities and financial success and lots more freedom. But it can also be full of distractions and tempting choices that take you away from the very activity that you really want to make time for.
We can get too caught up on doing mundane and low-paying work that pays the bills, but we run out of time to do what we really dream about. At least, it has certainly been that way with me many times.
Today, even though I feel used up and depleted, I'm so grateful I have a fulltime creative job that I enjoy and don't need to rely on outside jobs to put food on my table. And I will focus on that. I will be grateful for the job I have. And for now on, I will only do freelance work that I love by those who value my work.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
How many of you?
Have you ever googled your name? I do on occasion. Sifting through a myriad of names to recognize if any are me. And then I discovered this site. And I learn there are 272 others in the United States with my same name. And, nearly 90% of these people are men! I figured that. I have to jump through hoops to convince folks I'm really Shawn.
"We can't give you that information over the telephone without Shawn's permission", they tell me smugly. "Please have him call us directly for the balance on his credit card."
How many of you are out there with the same name? And, have you ever met anyone with your complete name before?
"We can't give you that information over the telephone without Shawn's permission", they tell me smugly. "Please have him call us directly for the balance on his credit card."
How many of you are out there with the same name? And, have you ever met anyone with your complete name before?
Thursday, February 15, 2007
My Backyard Makeover
In September, we transformed my dumpy backyard into a spectacular party place showcasing a line of our fabrics. It's being featured in Quilter's Home magazine this month!
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Kate
Kate.
Only one hour old. My niece forever. I watched the nurse give you your first bath and wash your hair and press your tiny feet into ink to mark your foot prints. You are adorable. You are Tyler's younger sister. And, I already love you. You fill my heart.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Duck, Duck, Goose!
Remember that game as a kid? We'd sit down in a circle facing each other and the person that was it walked around the circle behind us, and as they did, they tapped our heads and said whether or not we were a duck or a goose. Once someone is the goose, they'd get up and chase it around the circle trying to tap that person before they are able to sit in the gooses's spot. If the goose isn't able to do this, they become it for the next round and the game continues.
I loved that game and would sit there on the grass, repeating, "pick me, pick me, pick me..." while my heart beat out of my chest. As soon as they tapped my head, I would be up and running in a flurry. I was a fast runner and would often catch up to it. But other times, I didn't want to catch up to it, because by not catching up, meant I got to become . . . . it. That was even more fun. So I would run as fast as I could just behind it, but never tap their head. So though I lost, I won because I was able to play in the game a bit longer. I would skip around the circle a few times over.. not being able to make up my mind who I wanted to call goose. And if I felt like I wanted to stay in the game longer, I would tap on a head and run slowly to be tapped, so I could play it again! I never understood why no one else stole the game like I did.
I thought of that game after I got tagged by Jannie Ho. Let me tell you something about her that I just discovered this past week.
I have an old box filled with printed out artwork by certain artists whose work has inspired me over the years.
I haven't looked through this box in a few years, but last week when I thumbed through it, I paused at something adorable. Then I caught the name of the artist. I wrote her name on top of the page: Chickengirl Design / July 2004. Imagine that!! That's Jannie Ho! A wonderful artist I just happened upon nearly three years ago!
I had no idea I even knew who she was back then. And now we're playing the same game and she tapped me on the back of my head!
She tagged me to write a list of six weird things about me. That was a hard one for me, believe it or not, but friends of mine had no problem reminding me what they are, so here goes.
Six Weird Things About Me:
1. I have this terrible habit that I'm hardly aware of until someone points it out to me. Whenever someone is talking to me with a really thick accent or in broken english, I respond talking the same voice back to them! I am like a miner bird!
2. Having the soul of a toon, whenever I sneeze, I say "AwWw-Cho0Oo0ooo" and when I knock on someone's door, I knock to the the tune of, "A shave and a haircut, two bits".
3. I unconsciously describe everything by putting the word "little" in front of it. It can be a mansion and I'd say, "That little house is the biggest mansion I've ever seen!"
4. I really don't know how to boil an egg. I have to ask someone first, "Do I put the eggs in when the water is still cold or do I wait til they boil? And, for how long after they start to boil?") I never ever remember.
5. I can find cartoon faces in every day objects.
6. I memorize telephone numbers pretending they are dates. For instance if your number is 389-0704, I would see it as March '89 July 4th.
I loved that game and would sit there on the grass, repeating, "pick me, pick me, pick me..." while my heart beat out of my chest. As soon as they tapped my head, I would be up and running in a flurry. I was a fast runner and would often catch up to it. But other times, I didn't want to catch up to it, because by not catching up, meant I got to become . . . . it. That was even more fun. So I would run as fast as I could just behind it, but never tap their head. So though I lost, I won because I was able to play in the game a bit longer. I would skip around the circle a few times over.. not being able to make up my mind who I wanted to call goose. And if I felt like I wanted to stay in the game longer, I would tap on a head and run slowly to be tapped, so I could play it again! I never understood why no one else stole the game like I did.
I thought of that game after I got tagged by Jannie Ho. Let me tell you something about her that I just discovered this past week.
I have an old box filled with printed out artwork by certain artists whose work has inspired me over the years.
I haven't looked through this box in a few years, but last week when I thumbed through it, I paused at something adorable. Then I caught the name of the artist. I wrote her name on top of the page: Chickengirl Design / July 2004. Imagine that!! That's Jannie Ho! A wonderful artist I just happened upon nearly three years ago!
I had no idea I even knew who she was back then. And now we're playing the same game and she tapped me on the back of my head!
She tagged me to write a list of six weird things about me. That was a hard one for me, believe it or not, but friends of mine had no problem reminding me what they are, so here goes.
Six Weird Things About Me:
1. I have this terrible habit that I'm hardly aware of until someone points it out to me. Whenever someone is talking to me with a really thick accent or in broken english, I respond talking the same voice back to them! I am like a miner bird!
2. Having the soul of a toon, whenever I sneeze, I say "AwWw-Cho0Oo0ooo" and when I knock on someone's door, I knock to the the tune of, "A shave and a haircut, two bits".
3. I unconsciously describe everything by putting the word "little" in front of it. It can be a mansion and I'd say, "That little house is the biggest mansion I've ever seen!"
4. I really don't know how to boil an egg. I have to ask someone first, "Do I put the eggs in when the water is still cold or do I wait til they boil? And, for how long after they start to boil?") I never ever remember.
5. I can find cartoon faces in every day objects.
6. I memorize telephone numbers pretending they are dates. For instance if your number is 389-0704, I would see it as March '89 July 4th.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
AwWw-Cho0Ooo
I was fast asleep when in the distance I awoke to a sneeze. It sounded at least a few houses away.
Nothing huge and explosive. Just a polite, sweet little.. "choooo". I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling wondering if I whispered god bless you would that person hear it? If I could hear the sneeze. Then, couldn't he hear my response back?
I was nervous to find out, so I rolled back over and fell back to sleep.
I told that story to a friend and he rambled on and on about how sound travels on cool, windless nights and that a low noise could be heard as far as six miles away.
Six miles away!
I mentioned that to another friend who thought that was absurd!
But, I didn't.
Because there is nothing more resounding than an expected phone call that never rings.
Or the deafening silence that follows the question, "you still love me, don't you?"
Or hearing a heart shatter into a million pieces after hearing a loved one has died.
So ... no. All of a sudden, six miles doesn't seem so far away.
Nothing huge and explosive. Just a polite, sweet little.. "choooo". I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling wondering if I whispered god bless you would that person hear it? If I could hear the sneeze. Then, couldn't he hear my response back?
I was nervous to find out, so I rolled back over and fell back to sleep.
I told that story to a friend and he rambled on and on about how sound travels on cool, windless nights and that a low noise could be heard as far as six miles away.
Six miles away!
I mentioned that to another friend who thought that was absurd!
But, I didn't.
Because there is nothing more resounding than an expected phone call that never rings.
Or the deafening silence that follows the question, "you still love me, don't you?"
Or hearing a heart shatter into a million pieces after hearing a loved one has died.
So ... no. All of a sudden, six miles doesn't seem so far away.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Suggestions anyone?
In this month's Sunset magazine, there's an article on Palm Springs. Have you read it yet? I'm going to to take that issue with me on my upcoming road trip down south. I've been there a few times and have always enjoyed it. And at the beginning of Spring, I'm taking an out-of-state friend with me to that desert town where she has never been. She's also a fan of the cool, retro 1950s/1960s style that Palm Springs is so well-known for.
She already booked the hotel in Palm Springs. "I worry," she says to me. "I need to book everything two months in advance..."
I tend to go through life by the seat of my pants. This trip I don't want to do that. (Well. She doesn't want me to do that). My job is to plan two nights and two days anywhere in the greater Los Angeles area.
As soon as I pick up my friend at the airport, we'll drive straight down to L.A. I'm thinking of booking our first night in Santa Monica. There's a hotel I've stayed at before, but it could be fun to go somewhere new. I tend to only go to the same places whenever I'm down there. On the last day before we head north, we will also stay in the L.A. area.
I'm curious. Can I trouble you to suggest places to see or stay? A restaurant to people-watch or a place to eat with a view? I want to know about the tourist-places as well as those places only the local know about. Do you know of any fun stores to browse through but not malls.
In other words, if you were going to entertain guests from out of state, where would you take them? If you feel more comfortable sending me a personal email, please do, but if you want to post a comment, I'm sure others could benefit as well.
Even a link to a website would be helpful.
I really appreciate it. Thank you!
She already booked the hotel in Palm Springs. "I worry," she says to me. "I need to book everything two months in advance..."
I tend to go through life by the seat of my pants. This trip I don't want to do that. (Well. She doesn't want me to do that). My job is to plan two nights and two days anywhere in the greater Los Angeles area.
As soon as I pick up my friend at the airport, we'll drive straight down to L.A. I'm thinking of booking our first night in Santa Monica. There's a hotel I've stayed at before, but it could be fun to go somewhere new. I tend to only go to the same places whenever I'm down there. On the last day before we head north, we will also stay in the L.A. area.
I'm curious. Can I trouble you to suggest places to see or stay? A restaurant to people-watch or a place to eat with a view? I want to know about the tourist-places as well as those places only the local know about. Do you know of any fun stores to browse through but not malls.
In other words, if you were going to entertain guests from out of state, where would you take them? If you feel more comfortable sending me a personal email, please do, but if you want to post a comment, I'm sure others could benefit as well.
Even a link to a website would be helpful.
I really appreciate it. Thank you!
Sunday, January 21, 2007
More fabric
This was a fun and easy design to do for fabric. This is classified as a coordinate fabric to go along with the Dick and Jane fabric I designed. Ya know what made this most fun? I put in names of friends and family members. Can you spot your name? The fabric is a bit blurred because I snapped this photo off a bulk in our NYC office and felt bashful so took the picture without a flash. This pattern comes in a zillion different colors... including various pastels and primary colors.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
James Brown
My mom leaves me the funniest phone messages sometimes. Here is one I received today:
"Shawwwnnaa Maria! Shawny! Shawwwwnnnyyy! Are you there? It's nothing important. But I was just gonna tell you.... Can you believe John Brown's body.... or whatever his name is.... is still at his house?! He died at Christmas! And they're just gonna move it some other place and it's been in his house this whole time! Man! I can't imagine! I just can't imagine such a thing!
Okay. I just wanted to share that important message to you. Okay. Talk you later. Bye!
"Shawwwnnaa Maria! Shawny! Shawwwwnnnyyy! Are you there? It's nothing important. But I was just gonna tell you.... Can you believe John Brown's body.... or whatever his name is.... is still at his house?! He died at Christmas! And they're just gonna move it some other place and it's been in his house this whole time! Man! I can't imagine! I just can't imagine such a thing!
Okay. I just wanted to share that important message to you. Okay. Talk you later. Bye!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
These friends of mine
Ever wonder if your life is random or deliberate? Are we all living out a script that has perhaps already been written for us since time began?
I've been telling people since I was old enough to talk that I picked my mom to be my mom before I was born. I still believe that.
There are people I meet who are so familiar to me. My soul recognizes them instantly and there is a rich, deep connection. It's as though I have known them more than a lifetime. They are friends of mine that have always been.
I squint my eyes and think long and hard and try to remember them from before I met them.
Sometimes when I'm walking down a crowded sidewalk I wonder if I could have met or seen any of those people before. Masses of seemingly unfamiliar faces passing me by completely unaware of my presence and me of theirs. But perhaps I have connected with a few of those faces before. Perhaps we met while on vacation somewhere. Or maybe we have driven behind each other on the highway or they are a cousin to someone I know or I went to kindergarden with them or I read their blog or we've exchanged emails back and forth.
A friend and I have an agreement to pay the other person $20 if either of us runs into someone we know while we're on vacation together. It will happen at some time or another. I really believe that. I want to be the one who wins.
(not for the $20 but I want to run into someone I know in some obscure place far, far away.)
In 1987, I drove up to Seattle from San Francisco all by myself. Between Shasta, California and Centralia, Washington, I noticed the same car passing me at times and other times, I would pass them, but we drove alongside, behind and in front of each other for a long stretch of hours. They were my traveling buddies. Then... without any warning, they exited off the highway without even a wave or a toot-toot of the horn.
I remember missing them the rest of my drive. I thought they could at least motion to me through the window that they were exiting. Give me the option to exit, too. I laughed when I just wrote that. What a silly imagination. But their traveling beside me really did help me feel safe and the journey didn't seem as long. They were like my angel friends. Unknown people who help me on my way.
I believe our life is lot like that journey. There are people just like the travelers, who come into our lives at a particular time and they complete the job they are supposed to do and then move on. Others stay the course; we can not imagine not having each other in our lives at all times.
There's another set of friends we disconnect just for a time. Be it a marriage or a move or a life change that has distracted us being friends for a time. I really believe we will all be connected again.
Have you ever dreamed of someone you haven't thought of in years, and the following day you bump into them at a grocery store. Or they call you on the phone. See what I mean?
A couple years after I solo-drove to Seattle, I was flying home from a business trip in Chicago ... but stopped in Denver to spend New Years with a friend in Aspen. It was a fun flight; the plane was nearly empty so the flight attendants passed out complimentary champagne to everyone while we sang auld lang syne. I sat next to a woman who worked for Hewlett-Packard. Two years later, I am on a flight from Seattle to San Francisco and in mid-flight, she turns around in her seat and sees me sitting there across the aisle and behind her one row. She says, "Weren't you on that fun flight to Denver with me?!"
Such a small world! We talked a few minutes, waved and went on. But that wasn't the end of it. Maybe it was another year or two that had passed and I boarded a crowded airport shuttle to take me home when I see her sitting there next to an empty seat. We both recognized each other instantly and she motions for me to sit with her. She still worked for Hewlett-Packard but had gotten a job transfer near my home. What a coincidence! Again! She handed me her business card and I told her I would show her around town. I meant to call her. But. I got busy and the house needed cleaning and I had to do laundry and go on that road trip and eventually I misplaced her business card and time went on.
Later that year, while reading the newspaper, I read about a horrible car accident and a woman was killed. I recognized her name as the same woman I kept meeting over and over again. The shock and sadness soaked my shirt.
Who was she? Why did we keep meeting in so many different places? What did that mean? Would my life be different if we ever became friends? Is my life already different because we missed that connection?
Friends in my life. Friends for all time. Friends still unknown and unmet. You and I. We are connected. And I appreciate you. More than you'll ever know.
I've been telling people since I was old enough to talk that I picked my mom to be my mom before I was born. I still believe that.
There are people I meet who are so familiar to me. My soul recognizes them instantly and there is a rich, deep connection. It's as though I have known them more than a lifetime. They are friends of mine that have always been.
I squint my eyes and think long and hard and try to remember them from before I met them.
Sometimes when I'm walking down a crowded sidewalk I wonder if I could have met or seen any of those people before. Masses of seemingly unfamiliar faces passing me by completely unaware of my presence and me of theirs. But perhaps I have connected with a few of those faces before. Perhaps we met while on vacation somewhere. Or maybe we have driven behind each other on the highway or they are a cousin to someone I know or I went to kindergarden with them or I read their blog or we've exchanged emails back and forth.
A friend and I have an agreement to pay the other person $20 if either of us runs into someone we know while we're on vacation together. It will happen at some time or another. I really believe that. I want to be the one who wins.
(not for the $20 but I want to run into someone I know in some obscure place far, far away.)
In 1987, I drove up to Seattle from San Francisco all by myself. Between Shasta, California and Centralia, Washington, I noticed the same car passing me at times and other times, I would pass them, but we drove alongside, behind and in front of each other for a long stretch of hours. They were my traveling buddies. Then... without any warning, they exited off the highway without even a wave or a toot-toot of the horn.
I remember missing them the rest of my drive. I thought they could at least motion to me through the window that they were exiting. Give me the option to exit, too. I laughed when I just wrote that. What a silly imagination. But their traveling beside me really did help me feel safe and the journey didn't seem as long. They were like my angel friends. Unknown people who help me on my way.
I believe our life is lot like that journey. There are people just like the travelers, who come into our lives at a particular time and they complete the job they are supposed to do and then move on. Others stay the course; we can not imagine not having each other in our lives at all times.
There's another set of friends we disconnect just for a time. Be it a marriage or a move or a life change that has distracted us being friends for a time. I really believe we will all be connected again.
Have you ever dreamed of someone you haven't thought of in years, and the following day you bump into them at a grocery store. Or they call you on the phone. See what I mean?
A couple years after I solo-drove to Seattle, I was flying home from a business trip in Chicago ... but stopped in Denver to spend New Years with a friend in Aspen. It was a fun flight; the plane was nearly empty so the flight attendants passed out complimentary champagne to everyone while we sang auld lang syne. I sat next to a woman who worked for Hewlett-Packard. Two years later, I am on a flight from Seattle to San Francisco and in mid-flight, she turns around in her seat and sees me sitting there across the aisle and behind her one row. She says, "Weren't you on that fun flight to Denver with me?!"
Such a small world! We talked a few minutes, waved and went on. But that wasn't the end of it. Maybe it was another year or two that had passed and I boarded a crowded airport shuttle to take me home when I see her sitting there next to an empty seat. We both recognized each other instantly and she motions for me to sit with her. She still worked for Hewlett-Packard but had gotten a job transfer near my home. What a coincidence! Again! She handed me her business card and I told her I would show her around town. I meant to call her. But. I got busy and the house needed cleaning and I had to do laundry and go on that road trip and eventually I misplaced her business card and time went on.
Later that year, while reading the newspaper, I read about a horrible car accident and a woman was killed. I recognized her name as the same woman I kept meeting over and over again. The shock and sadness soaked my shirt.
Who was she? Why did we keep meeting in so many different places? What did that mean? Would my life be different if we ever became friends? Is my life already different because we missed that connection?
Friends in my life. Friends for all time. Friends still unknown and unmet. You and I. We are connected. And I appreciate you. More than you'll ever know.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Hungry for more
I walked into a deli to order a sandwich when a sweet voice asked, "Is there a seat I can sit where it is warmer?"
No one responded to her, so I turned to look toward the voice and instantly recognized her being blind. "Noo, there aren't any seats any warmer than the one you are sitting in." I said to her.
"What's your name?" She asked me, eager for conversation.
"My name is Shawn." I replied. "What is yours?"
"My name is Suzie." She smiled. "Are you enjoying your day so far, Shawn?"
"Yes, " I replied. "Are you?"
"Oh yes! I come here once a week for a sandwich. Do you come here often, Shawn?"
"No, it's my first time."
"Did you have a nice Christmas, Shawn?"
"Oh yes! Did you?" I inquired.
"Yes! I got leg warmers!"
Right then, the guy behind the counter told me my sandwich was ready.
"My sandwich is ready. I need to go now," I said to her.
"Shawn? Before you go, can you see if I've dropped any food on me? I tend to get so messy..."
I look down and there is a scattering of crumbs and tomato slices and lettuce remains. I ask for napkins behind the counter and cleaned her blouse off. "Thank you, Shawn. What do you do for a living?"
I said, "Today I'm designing fabric."
"Oh Shawn! I LOVE fabric!" she said.
I know she was more hungry for friendship than she was for her lunch. But I felt I had no friendship to offer a blind woman. I felt instantly small and puny and selfish.
I said goodbye and wandered out into the parking lot and as I drove off, I turned back to peek inside the deli window where Susie sat all alone. The napkin where I cleaned her off, was still crumpled in my hand, reminding me of what just took place.
I thought about Suzie and wondered how she got up the courage to eat at the deli each week by herself. I thought of her seeing a person as they really are without judgment. And I thought of my judgement without really seeing the person. I wondered how much more she sees than most of us ever will see.
I ate my turkey, bacon, avacado sandwich and when I was through, I looked down at the empty wrapper, still noticeably hungry for something more.
No one responded to her, so I turned to look toward the voice and instantly recognized her being blind. "Noo, there aren't any seats any warmer than the one you are sitting in." I said to her.
"What's your name?" She asked me, eager for conversation.
"My name is Shawn." I replied. "What is yours?"
"My name is Suzie." She smiled. "Are you enjoying your day so far, Shawn?"
"Yes, " I replied. "Are you?"
"Oh yes! I come here once a week for a sandwich. Do you come here often, Shawn?"
"No, it's my first time."
"Did you have a nice Christmas, Shawn?"
"Oh yes! Did you?" I inquired.
"Yes! I got leg warmers!"
Right then, the guy behind the counter told me my sandwich was ready.
"My sandwich is ready. I need to go now," I said to her.
"Shawn? Before you go, can you see if I've dropped any food on me? I tend to get so messy..."
I look down and there is a scattering of crumbs and tomato slices and lettuce remains. I ask for napkins behind the counter and cleaned her blouse off. "Thank you, Shawn. What do you do for a living?"
I said, "Today I'm designing fabric."
"Oh Shawn! I LOVE fabric!" she said.
I know she was more hungry for friendship than she was for her lunch. But I felt I had no friendship to offer a blind woman. I felt instantly small and puny and selfish.
I said goodbye and wandered out into the parking lot and as I drove off, I turned back to peek inside the deli window where Susie sat all alone. The napkin where I cleaned her off, was still crumpled in my hand, reminding me of what just took place.
I thought about Suzie and wondered how she got up the courage to eat at the deli each week by herself. I thought of her seeing a person as they really are without judgment. And I thought of my judgement without really seeing the person. I wondered how much more she sees than most of us ever will see.
I ate my turkey, bacon, avacado sandwich and when I was through, I looked down at the empty wrapper, still noticeably hungry for something more.
Sunday, January 7, 2007
The haunted house
Everytime I walk past this house, chills tingle down my spine. Whenever I walk along the sidewalk out in front, I feel frightened. It feels ... well, it feels haunted to me.
I never stop to linger. I walk rather quickly along my way feeling nervous and afraid feeling the hairs on my arm rise.
I'm never sure what street this house is on, but whenever I'm on a walk and notice it, I cross and walk on the far side of the street.
I went on a walk with a friend last night. We had our cameras with us and he spontaneously decided to snap the photo of this house I fear.
He sent it to me in an email stating he didn't know what those round things are in the photo. They didn't show up anywhere else on his other photos.
In google, I typed in ghosts and clicked on a site and couldn't believe what I saw!
Do you believe in ghosts? I think for now on, I'll trust my instincts and I'll just miss this street altogether on my next walk. Well, wouldn't you?
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Buzz (around)
I love the word Buzz.
It has an assortment of all sorts of meanings.
For instance, you can say "give me a buzz" to someone you want a phone call from while sitting in a barber chair and walk out with a completely different haircut than you intended.
"There's a buzz in the room" could mean... "do you hear the excitement in the air?" or it could mean "watch out and don't let that bee sting you."
And, feeling a buzz can mean something different, too. You won't want to feel a buzz if you're putting in a new light fixture. But a buzz is kinda nice when you're sitting in front a fire with an adult beverage.
Another meaning of Buzz is to move. Zip around. Scoot around. Buzz around.
So here is my scooter girl buzzing around Paris with a buzz in the air and one in her hair.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Beginning a new year
What a year this has been!
I didn't write down any new resolutions, because I do that all the time. I call it my wish list. I carry this small black book around with me everywhere I go and jot down my hopes and wishes and dreams every time I think of one. It's not every day. It's not every week. But it's always there for me so I don't forget it when the wish happens to me.
I have loved 2006! I know I will always look back on this year and feel warm. My Nana used to say every Christmas. "We're all here this year and we need to give thanks because we never know who might not be with us next year."
As a child, my eyes would dart around the room staring at everyone there, wondering their fate. Worried. For a moment, I would forget about Santa and his reindeer and presents. I would run and hug them all.
"Please don't leave me!" I would silently pray to each of them.
As I get older, I worry about that much more.
I am knowing too many sick people. Cancer is a thief. It steals time. Our days are already short with worry. Then comes this relentless disease, unfair as a hailstorm at harvest time. I feared it for myself this past summer. Now I know a handful of people I love dearly who are battling this.
This I know for all of us: Life is short. Days spin by much too quickly.
Take more time to be with those you love. Let this be a year of slowing down this maddening pace we all live in. S--L--O--W down. Look up at the moon. Use your best china. Soap yourself with that fancy soap shaped like a rose, collecting dust in your fancy unused soap dish. Light your unused candles. Call that friend you swore never to call again "because I'm always the one who calls". Don't hold a grudge. Don't resist a "thank you" because someone's behavior is what you expected and felt deserved. Say "i'm sorry" more and "you owe me an apology" less. Enjoy your friends. Be grateful for those who love you and treat them with care because there will be days you will need them the most and you will have been glad you didn't shoo them away. And be. Simply be. Be grateful. Laugh hard. Remain sensitive. Seek out the beauty in things.
I will be doing the same.
I didn't write down any new resolutions, because I do that all the time. I call it my wish list. I carry this small black book around with me everywhere I go and jot down my hopes and wishes and dreams every time I think of one. It's not every day. It's not every week. But it's always there for me so I don't forget it when the wish happens to me.
I have loved 2006! I know I will always look back on this year and feel warm. My Nana used to say every Christmas. "We're all here this year and we need to give thanks because we never know who might not be with us next year."
As a child, my eyes would dart around the room staring at everyone there, wondering their fate. Worried. For a moment, I would forget about Santa and his reindeer and presents. I would run and hug them all.
"Please don't leave me!" I would silently pray to each of them.
As I get older, I worry about that much more.
I am knowing too many sick people. Cancer is a thief. It steals time. Our days are already short with worry. Then comes this relentless disease, unfair as a hailstorm at harvest time. I feared it for myself this past summer. Now I know a handful of people I love dearly who are battling this.
This I know for all of us: Life is short. Days spin by much too quickly.
Take more time to be with those you love. Let this be a year of slowing down this maddening pace we all live in. S--L--O--W down. Look up at the moon. Use your best china. Soap yourself with that fancy soap shaped like a rose, collecting dust in your fancy unused soap dish. Light your unused candles. Call that friend you swore never to call again "because I'm always the one who calls". Don't hold a grudge. Don't resist a "thank you" because someone's behavior is what you expected and felt deserved. Say "i'm sorry" more and "you owe me an apology" less. Enjoy your friends. Be grateful for those who love you and treat them with care because there will be days you will need them the most and you will have been glad you didn't shoo them away. And be. Simply be. Be grateful. Laugh hard. Remain sensitive. Seek out the beauty in things.
I will be doing the same.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Carrots left behind
Santa has come and gone. My 2-year-old nephew shows me the remainder of the carrots the reindeer left behind on his front porch from the night before. In his tiny hand, he shows me the teeth marks that remain on the half-eaten carrots.He was so worried Santa would get stuck in their fireplace. But he made it just fine. --We all did.
Oh the magic of Christmas.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Christmas Eve
Whew.
I just spent most of my morning and part of my afternoon digging around the tape with my fingernail looking for the end so I could tape and wrap gifts that looks like a one-armed-blind-person has wrapped.
I'm out of tissue so the shirt I am giving my brother looks quite bare and cheap, folded in that large box. Except for the tags attached, it almost has that used look to it. I'm out of gift tags so I'm writing on the wrapping paper. Every other gift is missing about an inch of wrapping paper on the bottom because I underestimated how much to cut. As I neatly placed the many items for my college-age nephew in a box, I thought so long and hard for ... now looks like a lousy idea so I added a $20 dollar bill along with it to make it look more valuable. The earrings I am giving to another, wrapped in tissue without a box looks like I found it in my own jewelry box. How old am I? By my wrapping job, I would guess about eight.
Oh, I know in the end, when I go to bed tomorrow night, I will look back on Christmas and think back to the wonderful day. They will hardly notice in the excitement of opening presents that my gift wrapping wasn't just right. Inevitably, someone will accidently open the wrong gift addressed to another. And another gift will have gotten thrown out by accident when someone becomes over zealous throwing out the wrapping paper to clean up the mess.
Every year I vow to plan sooner. To buy gifts through-out the year. To take more time with the gift-wrapping. Each year comes and goes... and I still haven't made good on my intentions.
I admire those who had their shopping done a month ago and who have time to decorate and have clean houses and perfectly wrapped gifts and entertain guests.
One year in my early 20s, I decided to make cookies. Bad idea. After spending about $80 in ingredients, I ended up only giving out a pathetic plate of 4 or 5 cookies to each person. "Those cookies cost me about $5 each!" I wanted to tell them... and I probably did tell them.
When I was 6 years old I gave my mom a box of love . She opened it up and said, "Shawn, there's nothing in this empty box." I said, "Sure there is! It's a whole box full of love!"
She still has that box. If I had known she would keep it a lifetime, I would have decorated the inside of the box a little bit nicer.
I'm off to the stores for a tiny bit more shopping. And I've procrastinated enough... wishing you all peace and joy.
Merry Christmas.
I just spent most of my morning and part of my afternoon digging around the tape with my fingernail looking for the end so I could tape and wrap gifts that looks like a one-armed-blind-person has wrapped.
I'm out of tissue so the shirt I am giving my brother looks quite bare and cheap, folded in that large box. Except for the tags attached, it almost has that used look to it. I'm out of gift tags so I'm writing on the wrapping paper. Every other gift is missing about an inch of wrapping paper on the bottom because I underestimated how much to cut. As I neatly placed the many items for my college-age nephew in a box, I thought so long and hard for ... now looks like a lousy idea so I added a $20 dollar bill along with it to make it look more valuable. The earrings I am giving to another, wrapped in tissue without a box looks like I found it in my own jewelry box. How old am I? By my wrapping job, I would guess about eight.
Oh, I know in the end, when I go to bed tomorrow night, I will look back on Christmas and think back to the wonderful day. They will hardly notice in the excitement of opening presents that my gift wrapping wasn't just right. Inevitably, someone will accidently open the wrong gift addressed to another. And another gift will have gotten thrown out by accident when someone becomes over zealous throwing out the wrapping paper to clean up the mess.
Every year I vow to plan sooner. To buy gifts through-out the year. To take more time with the gift-wrapping. Each year comes and goes... and I still haven't made good on my intentions.
I admire those who had their shopping done a month ago and who have time to decorate and have clean houses and perfectly wrapped gifts and entertain guests.
One year in my early 20s, I decided to make cookies. Bad idea. After spending about $80 in ingredients, I ended up only giving out a pathetic plate of 4 or 5 cookies to each person. "Those cookies cost me about $5 each!" I wanted to tell them... and I probably did tell them.
When I was 6 years old I gave my mom a box of love . She opened it up and said, "Shawn, there's nothing in this empty box." I said, "Sure there is! It's a whole box full of love!"
She still has that box. If I had known she would keep it a lifetime, I would have decorated the inside of the box a little bit nicer.
I'm off to the stores for a tiny bit more shopping. And I've procrastinated enough... wishing you all peace and joy.
Merry Christmas.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
I've been tagged!
I've seen others tagged to answer a questionaire, but this is my first time and by two people at once! Crunchybits and Doodlestreet both tagged me so here goes:
Four jobs I have had that were not related to my art field:
1. SALES. I sold children's records door to door all over the country. Boise, Idaho - Des Moines, Iowa - Salem, Oregon - Portsmouth, Virginia - Downey, California - Spokane, Washington - Houston, Texas - Lincoln, Nebraska - Bartlesville, Oklahoma - Edina, Minnesota - Reynoldsburg, Ohio. I hated it. Especially on cold rainy days. Sometimes I would sit on the curb and draw out my experiences in comic strip form. One time I won a free shirt for selling the most records in a single day. That was the only reward I got for going door to door. Oh yeah. My other reward was building lots of character in me.
2. RECEPTIONIST. The Company was Strategic Pacific. That was the hardest two words for me to try and say over the phone. I could never get it right. Over and over and over again, the telephone would ring and I felt like Lucy trying to say Vitametavegmin. "Good morning. Spacific Strategic, Suspific Pustific...". My job lasted only one very long day.
3. SALES CLERK. When I was a young adult, I worked at JC Penneys in Olympia, Washington. They only gave me 12-hours a week to work, so I starved, living off air-popped popcorn until I finally got a job at a film company. (well. actually. I was pretty hungry during that job as well).
4. MASSAGE THERAPIST. I would carry my table and lotions and music and sheets to people's homes all over the Bay Area giving massages. Eventually I quit because I needed a massage.
Four websites I visit daily:
1. Apartment Therapy. I LOVE this website. You can visit it ten times a day and there will always be something new posted.
2. Ikea Hacker.
3. Design Sponge.
4. Print Pattern.
Four places I have lived:
1. Pennsylvania (Norristown and Lafayette Hill)
2. Texas (Lindale)
3. Washington (Olympia, Tacoma and Fife)
4. California (San Rafael, Fairfax, San Ramon, Rohnert Park and Santa Rosa)
Four movies I can see over and over again:
1. The Secret. (I've seen this already 3 or 4 times in the past four months).
2. Fifteen years ago, I watched Hook three times in 11 days. So many people I know hated that movie. But it touched something in me and kept grabbing at my heart and soul.
3. Goldie Hawn movies always makes me laugh.
4. Kathy and Mo (not really a movie but an HBO special) "you look vera vera perty tonight".
Four TV shows I have enjoyed as an adult:
1. 30Something
2. Melrose Place
3. Survivor and The Biggest Loser
4. Lost
Four TV shows I have enjoyed as a kid:
1. The Brady Bunch
2. The Mary Tyler Moore Show and later the Rhoda show.
3. The Carol Burnett Show
4. The Doris Day Show
Four places I have gone on vacation:
1. Boston, MA
2. Oahu and Maui, Hawaii
3. Cabo San Lucas, Mexico
4. Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Four favorite foods:
1. Cheese
2. Salty things and chocolate covered salty things, like pretzels. Or chocolate covered nuts. or chocolate covered peanut butter. I'm not particularly fond of chocolate on its own.
3. Barbecued filet mignon or salmon
4. Artichokes and avacados and salads, too
The people I am tagging:
Janet and Monica
Four jobs I have had that were not related to my art field:
1. SALES. I sold children's records door to door all over the country. Boise, Idaho - Des Moines, Iowa - Salem, Oregon - Portsmouth, Virginia - Downey, California - Spokane, Washington - Houston, Texas - Lincoln, Nebraska - Bartlesville, Oklahoma - Edina, Minnesota - Reynoldsburg, Ohio. I hated it. Especially on cold rainy days. Sometimes I would sit on the curb and draw out my experiences in comic strip form. One time I won a free shirt for selling the most records in a single day. That was the only reward I got for going door to door. Oh yeah. My other reward was building lots of character in me.
2. RECEPTIONIST. The Company was Strategic Pacific. That was the hardest two words for me to try and say over the phone. I could never get it right. Over and over and over again, the telephone would ring and I felt like Lucy trying to say Vitametavegmin. "Good morning. Spacific Strategic, Suspific Pustific...". My job lasted only one very long day.
3. SALES CLERK. When I was a young adult, I worked at JC Penneys in Olympia, Washington. They only gave me 12-hours a week to work, so I starved, living off air-popped popcorn until I finally got a job at a film company. (well. actually. I was pretty hungry during that job as well).
4. MASSAGE THERAPIST. I would carry my table and lotions and music and sheets to people's homes all over the Bay Area giving massages. Eventually I quit because I needed a massage.
Four websites I visit daily:
1. Apartment Therapy. I LOVE this website. You can visit it ten times a day and there will always be something new posted.
2. Ikea Hacker.
3. Design Sponge.
4. Print Pattern.
Four places I have lived:
1. Pennsylvania (Norristown and Lafayette Hill)
2. Texas (Lindale)
3. Washington (Olympia, Tacoma and Fife)
4. California (San Rafael, Fairfax, San Ramon, Rohnert Park and Santa Rosa)
Four movies I can see over and over again:
1. The Secret. (I've seen this already 3 or 4 times in the past four months).
2. Fifteen years ago, I watched Hook three times in 11 days. So many people I know hated that movie. But it touched something in me and kept grabbing at my heart and soul.
3. Goldie Hawn movies always makes me laugh.
4. Kathy and Mo (not really a movie but an HBO special) "you look vera vera perty tonight".
Four TV shows I have enjoyed as an adult:
1. 30Something
2. Melrose Place
3. Survivor and The Biggest Loser
4. Lost
Four TV shows I have enjoyed as a kid:
1. The Brady Bunch
2. The Mary Tyler Moore Show and later the Rhoda show.
3. The Carol Burnett Show
4. The Doris Day Show
Four places I have gone on vacation:
1. Boston, MA
2. Oahu and Maui, Hawaii
3. Cabo San Lucas, Mexico
4. Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Four favorite foods:
1. Cheese
2. Salty things and chocolate covered salty things, like pretzels. Or chocolate covered nuts. or chocolate covered peanut butter. I'm not particularly fond of chocolate on its own.
3. Barbecued filet mignon or salmon
4. Artichokes and avacados and salads, too
The people I am tagging:
Janet and Monica
Monday, December 18, 2006
The Lady in Red
This adorable illustration was drawn by the talented doodlestreet who so graciously sent this to me while I was in NYC and gave me permission to post it. It's a picture of me in my red coat walking down the streets of New York City. I brought the red coat because everyone suggested I wear the red, and I suppose I did stand out more for the cab drivers to find me, but there were times, I sort of felt like maybe I looked like a clown.
I'm not sure what it is with me and airplanes. The last time I flew back from New York, we had an emergency landing in Salt Lake City. This trip, while flying into JFK, we were only a few feet from landing when the huge plane with double aisles, thrusted its engines and the nose of our plane raised it's nose high in the air and we took off again to keep from a near miss of hitting another plane taxing in front of us on the runway.
But, in the end, we all landed safely. The driver holding the sign with my name on it was late to the airport so I had to wait for him on the curb outside. I never saw the sign with my name on it. I had my camera set to take a picture.
I stayed at the Park Central New York in room 1608. I recommend staying here and requesting my room. It's close to everything and from my hotel window, I could see Times Square and all of it's bright dazzling lights. It reminds me of Vegas.
Besides being close to Times Square, I was around the corner from the Ed Sullivan Theatre and just a few blocks from Rockefeller Center and Central Park. And just two doors away from the Carnegie Deli that has the largest sandwiches you will ever eat!
There was so much hustle and bustle outside that I never went into my room very early. The energy of that City kept me awake for hours much longer than I usally am. Each night I would wind my way down the crowded streets to take in the experience. I can't seem to get enough of that City. I can't express in words how it feels to suddenly turn a corner just beyond Radio City Music Hall and see the famous christmas tree in Rockefeller Center for the first time, and feeling it catch my breath. --It was enormous and beautiful. I reached for my camera to snap a quick shot of the tree, when I lost my grip and it slipped out of my hand, crashing down hard onto the concrete sidewalk.
One very significant piece broke off. I sat down on the bench near where it broke and stared long and hard on the ground, hoping to see a reflection of the metal. I looked under the table. And then down into the grate in the ground. Nothing.
To console myself, I walked into the NBC store close by but instead, the security guard at the door pushes me to step back. "We're closing." So I backed up outside and stared into the glass window into the store.
She repeated her words, "We're closing!" I looked back at her and mouthed the words "Can't I just peek in the window?"
She opens the door an inch away, "What'd you say?"
"Can't I stand here and peek through the window?"
"Of course! I was telling the folks behind you that we're closing."
(blush)
I wander around a bit more. And then return to the place where I dropped my camera. I was hoping to see something glisten from the reflection of the lights, but instead the only thing I see is a young couple in love, sitting on the same bench I sat early, staring at her brand new shiny diamonds in her engagement ring.
"Yes! Yes! I will marry you!" she cries and they embrace. Both are crying. And laughing. And staring at the sparkling ring.
I decide to let them be as I continue along the sidewalk back to the hotel. Grateful they created a new memory for me on that bench I only sat on just 20 minutes earlier lost in my search of the broken pieces to my camera.
After work on Friday, I hailed a cab in Chelsea to a friend's home near Times Square. The doorman had a key waiting for me and I carried my bags up to her apartment. And from there, I walked a few blocks to catch the subway. I was supposed to get off at W4th Street/Washington Square to transfer to another train, but when we arrived, I remained standing there on the train, holding on to the pole. We stopped at the Spring Street station and I stayed on. Finally, I decided at the Canal station to jump off and catch a train back to W4th Street/Washington Square. Eventually, I found my way back and got off at Broadway and Lafayette and headed down the street towards Houston to meet her in a neighborhood book store. I loved SoHo and its cobblestone streets and its eclectic neighborhoods in lower Manhattan.
It was a weekend filled with cabs, buses, trains, subway and cars and lots of walking. I missed the rickshaw ride. The weekend ended in Long Island visiting my precious relatives. I'm so happy I didn't fly home on Friday to spend the weekend back in California to start my christmas shopping because the gift of my experience there this weekend, was truely the best gift. And there's still time to shop. But, I'll think about that tomorrow.
Monday, December 11, 2006
I'm off to New York City!
I'm somewhat set for New York City. I have a small suitcase packed. I am about to embark on a brand new experience I have yet to experience on my own.
I will arrive at JFK airport alone and then look for a driver to have my name spelled out on a small sign waiting for me at baggage claim. I hope.
I have seen this so many times in the past but I have yet to see my own name on those signs. This will be the first time I will have my own name printed out. I wonder if they will spell it correctly.
I might say, "Take me to Carnegie Hall!" because I will be staying across the street. If I am lost, I will ask, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" I wonder if anyone will answer: "Practice, my dear, practice!"
On Tuesday morning, I will roam down to the lobby and out on the street and hail a cab to go to my new place of work for a week. I will sit in the back seat of the cab. Take in the views of the towering City out of my window. Count and make sure I have enough money to pay the cab plus a tip. I will try and pretend to look confident and experienced. I will say say "thanks!" to the cab driver and then push the button to the 5th floor. I will step out into our office and wonder if anyone will recognize me from last September or the Quilt Market in Houston in October and know I'm an employee there, too. But, a west-coast employee.
Will I feel bashful? Oh sure, I will! A little bit afraid? Yup. Wish me well.
As I will be the lady in red. If you happen upon New York City and see a woman in red... give me the thumbs up and if I return it back, then you know it will be me.
I will arrive at JFK airport alone and then look for a driver to have my name spelled out on a small sign waiting for me at baggage claim. I hope.
I have seen this so many times in the past but I have yet to see my own name on those signs. This will be the first time I will have my own name printed out. I wonder if they will spell it correctly.
I might say, "Take me to Carnegie Hall!" because I will be staying across the street. If I am lost, I will ask, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" I wonder if anyone will answer: "Practice, my dear, practice!"
On Tuesday morning, I will roam down to the lobby and out on the street and hail a cab to go to my new place of work for a week. I will sit in the back seat of the cab. Take in the views of the towering City out of my window. Count and make sure I have enough money to pay the cab plus a tip. I will try and pretend to look confident and experienced. I will say say "thanks!" to the cab driver and then push the button to the 5th floor. I will step out into our office and wonder if anyone will recognize me from last September or the Quilt Market in Houston in October and know I'm an employee there, too. But, a west-coast employee.
Will I feel bashful? Oh sure, I will! A little bit afraid? Yup. Wish me well.
As I will be the lady in red. If you happen upon New York City and see a woman in red... give me the thumbs up and if I return it back, then you know it will be me.
Monday, December 4, 2006
My Childhood Diary from the 70s
A month in the life of me when I was a kid:
March 1: Roxy and I spoke in our fake language while at the store. No one understood, not even us. Watched "Here's Lucy" at 9:00 nite. It was about Lawrence Welk, the old ladies Love him!
March 2: It rained all day. I watched one little bird all by himself, drenching wet, on a little branch in a tree outside my bedroom window, watching all the other birds, 'cause his little wet head is all twisted around looking at them. But he is all by himself and this makes me sad for him.
March 3: Got my B-Sting shot. Me and Terry went to the Library. I got out 3 Books: "Addie Pray", "Go ask Alice" and "Life with Mother Superior." Saw "Paper Moon" again. Starring Ryon O'Neal & Tatum O'Neal (his Daughter).
March 4: Went to Coddingtown. Me, Mom, Kelly, Roxy and Uta. Roxy bought a 45 record of the Defrancos, "Abba Ca Dabra", and "The Most Beautiful Girl". Met a crippled boy.
March 5: It rained today. I got tested in Self-Defense today. I got graded V+ in the Side Kick today. Whatever that means! Overall, I got a V+, V, V. I goofed up in one of them. I forgot to scream and I had to think on it.
March 6: Saw Jimmy Boriolo. This family has 10 boys. No girls! Their house smells like the bathroom does. Had homework!
March 7: Ate dinner at Annette's house. Taped songs from, Carpenters Album. Had fun.
March 8: Me and Roxy played Hocky, on Roller Skates, and used Brooms for a Hockey stick, and a coke can for the Puck. Had fun. Uta & Roxy came by.
March 9: Going to Lake Tahoe! Mom rented me ski-pants for 3.00. Bought me some mittens for $3.99 and Bought some ski-boots for $5.00. Left at 6:00. Me, and Annette sat in camper the whole time. Outside of Placerville we ate at "Sams Restaurant." Real old fassion! Then went to Crazy Horse Ranch. Stayed there for the night & we squaredanced!
March 10: Me and Annette went to a tree-house. Neat-oh! Then went all over the place! Fun! Then left for Heavenly Valley. After we skied, we went down hills on sleds, discs's and intertubes. At night, went to Recreation at Harrahs, cassinos in Nevada. It was cold that night!
March 11: Went skiing from 10:30 - 4:30. Went on JUMP TRAIL. It's only for ski-patrolmen! Left for home at 10 - 6:00. Got home at 11:30. Ate Dinner at Denny's in Roseland at 8:00.
March 12: School! Blah! Had club meeting, today, Had B-Sting shot. I was mad at Roger today. So was Roxy. We had a war. It was fun!
March 13: After school, me, Annette, Roxy, Roger and me played ARMY. When me and Roxy were captured, we had crackers to eat. Because the day before we stuck them in there.
March 14: Went up in Roxy's attic! We found a cubby-hole that fits about six people. We mite have it as our club.
March 15: Me, Wally, Roxy and Roger went to see the show, "Magic Boy" and "adventures with Huckleberry Finn." It was great. Got my bird today. Watched the Waltons! It was good. I haven't missed one yet. I am going to name my parakeet, Pete.
March 16: Went to Blue and Gold dinner, with Wally's cub-scout. Had fun. Annette came with us. Our table won for the best decorated.
March 17: Saint Patrick's Day! I sent the nite at Roxy's. Julie and Grama spent the nite at our house. Had fun! Played blindman's bluff. Made a tent and slept in it. Made Breakfast for her mom. Then we went down to the FAIRGROUNDS. Saw Horseshow. Came back. Played Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, and Wally was Joe Harper. We made a clubhouse out of sticks and grass. We babysitted Roxy until 10:00! Then her mom picked up her. First time taking a bath in 3 years. I've always taken showers. It was fun.
March 18: Rode Mini-Bike around and skied down Roxy's hill on our shoes. Then went iceskating all day. Well, 3:00-5:30. That's as long as it is. Grama spent the nite, again. Got all washed up for school.
March 19: Made our clubhouse in Roxy's Bedroom! Well in her closet. The closet, is neat-oh! It's pretty big, too! We're going to add on, pretty soon. Annette didn't come, so we won't show her until Thursday.
March 20: Adding on some rooms in the closet! 2 offices, 1 meeting Rm, and secret hideout Room for Roger. Roger busted Roxy's door frame, when he was chasing us! Later on, at my house, Roxy and I played EMERGENCY!
March 21: Made MoonRock Cookies. They're good. Janie and Corey Porter came by. They brought us, WHOPPERS, and FUDGE CYCLES. Delicious! Had fun.
March 22: After school, cleaned my room, and Birdcage. Then Wally, me, and Annette were riding on John's tractor, Annette said, "I'm alway's going to ride this!" I told her, she couldn't. Annette went home, without saying, Good-Bye!
March 23: Got my B-Sting shot. Christina and Kevin came over. Did some spying and Detective work. They left at 6:00. Didn't eat until 7:00. I have a sore throat. I think I'm catching a cold. Watched Tom Sawyer on TV.
March 24: Me, Larry, Roxy, Kelly and Wally went Bowling. Went to Rose Bowl. Lanes didn't work. So the man blamed us. And we got KICKED-OUT! Sat on Water Beds, waiting for Mom. They cost 200 Dollars! Expensive! Frames only cost 30 Dollars. But that's a lot!
March 25: Cleaned up house, Nana and Aunt Sister and Buzz came up. Me, Roxy and Wally cleaned up their volkswagen van up. It's like a house! Neat-OH! Then went to Movies with Annette. Saw "The Worlds Greatest Athlete". It was great! Comedy - about Nanu could do any thing in sports good. TOO GOOD! Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha
March 26: Didn't go to school. Too bad a cold. "Death Valley" was Great! Didn't play today, since I was sick. Got Bee Sting Shot.
March 27: Went back to School. Used all my Kleenex in two hours! I can't breathe in any of my noses.
March 28: M.Y.A. came to our school. (Mexican Youth Association) And held an assembly about how they got to be, where they are now.
March 29: In gym, ran 6 Full minutes. Average - 10-11 laps. I made it 12 laps. Almost 13.
March 30: Diane Pedrotti's slumber party! It wasn't as good as Sallie Leaches! Went to bed at 4:00 morn. Had a FUN TIME.
March 31: Came home at 10:00 morn. Everyone did. Woke up at 20 minutes to 8 o'clock. Cleaned up my Room. Then Roxy and I SPYED ON These two boys. They finally saw us an HOUR LATER. And started chasing us! We hid in a secret room in our cave-like clubhouse. They couldn't reach us.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
California in December
This photo shows exactly where I spent a great deal of my afternoon today. I spent it with my lovely mom enjoying the warm outdoors. It was such a beautiful and relaxing Saturday... well, until she discovered she lost her right shoulder pad.
"Oh nooo!" she exclaims while pounding herself all over. "What if it was when we were in that beautiful Tuscany home and someone thought it was a kotex?!"
I stared at my mom with eyes the size of tea cups. I completely understood her fear. What if someone saw it fall from her and then seeing us enjoying our time together, they didn't want to ruin the moment, so they kicked her shoulder pad under a table or into a corner to save herself?
Then I thought, "Mom, at your age, be proud that someone would think it was a kotex!"
My mom thinks the shoulder pads are the best things to ever be invented, though most haven't seen them much since the 1980s.
"Be proud you have your father's shoulders..." she says to me. "I don't have shoulders. Just arms growing out of my neck."
As lopsided as she felt, we spent a day, admiring Christmas decorations and talking to wonderful people... I like to call them unknown friends.
Everyone was out and about putting up Christmas decorations. It really was beautiful.
It confirmed my idea of posting holiday photos for December's Inside Peek, so if any of you would like to participate and send a photo of your holiday decorating, I will post it. (And, thank you by the way, for you brave souls who shared your refrigerator photos). Next month, through-out the month of February, I will post the inside peek of medicine cabinets...
Also, thank you for those who have left me comments. It really is rewarding to have a connection out there in cyberspace. It really does help to have a warm soul saying "i hear you" from across the miles.
I am feeling so grateful today. And my heart feels warm. And, you are a large part because of it.
Thanks.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Planning for New York
I just booked a flight to NYC.
I will be there all week on business and and at an office Christmas Party, but considered extending my stay through the weekend for some added fun.
So, I contacted a friend who lives off Times Square.
"You going to be around that weekend?"
"I should be around, but I may be going to CT because it'll be the last weekend before the Simon's leave for the holidays. So, we may have Christmas then."
(That's Paul Simon and wife Edie Brickell, so who can possibly compete with that invitation?)
I contact a friend in Springfield, New Jersey.
"Hey, you gonna be around that weekend? I'll be flyin' out of Newark on Sunday."
"You are not going to believe this, and I hate to say it, but I have to go out of town, again, on Dec. 14, and I'll be gone for the weekend."
I call my aunt in Lindenhurst, Long Island.
"Are you gonna be around that weekend? I'd like to take the train in and see you and the cousins." (who live in nearby towns).
"Oh sure! We have nothing on the calendar and we'll be in town that weekend. But you should think of flying in and out of JFK because it's so much closer. Just 10 minutes from Rockville Center."
Okay. So I book my flight in and out of JFK instead, and before I receive the email confirmation, my phone rings.
"Shawn? I hope you didn't book your flight yet. I just talked to Camille. She's flying to Florida that weekend. I'll talk to Jerry and Annette and Linda and see what's up with them, but it's so close to Christmas, they might be going out of town themselves. I will be here, though. Would you be bored with just me? And what time is your flight? 5:45? That's dark then and I don't drive in the dark."
"Yes!" I reassure her. "I will miss everyone, but I still want to see you. I can take a train or a towncar or a bus or cab or a shuttle to the airport."
We hang up. And a cloud of unsettleness comes over me. I'm excited but feel a bit of apprehension and worried that I might have booked my flight too soon without really waiting to formulate my plans more.
If this hick-up is an indication of what I'm about to embark upon in a few weeks, then I better settle in, put on my gloves and buckle up for some unexpected adventures. Life has a way of repeating itself.
I will be there all week on business and and at an office Christmas Party, but considered extending my stay through the weekend for some added fun.
So, I contacted a friend who lives off Times Square.
"You going to be around that weekend?"
"I should be around, but I may be going to CT because it'll be the last weekend before the Simon's leave for the holidays. So, we may have Christmas then."
(That's Paul Simon and wife Edie Brickell, so who can possibly compete with that invitation?)
I contact a friend in Springfield, New Jersey.
"Hey, you gonna be around that weekend? I'll be flyin' out of Newark on Sunday."
"You are not going to believe this, and I hate to say it, but I have to go out of town, again, on Dec. 14, and I'll be gone for the weekend."
I call my aunt in Lindenhurst, Long Island.
"Are you gonna be around that weekend? I'd like to take the train in and see you and the cousins." (who live in nearby towns).
"Oh sure! We have nothing on the calendar and we'll be in town that weekend. But you should think of flying in and out of JFK because it's so much closer. Just 10 minutes from Rockville Center."
Okay. So I book my flight in and out of JFK instead, and before I receive the email confirmation, my phone rings.
"Shawn? I hope you didn't book your flight yet. I just talked to Camille. She's flying to Florida that weekend. I'll talk to Jerry and Annette and Linda and see what's up with them, but it's so close to Christmas, they might be going out of town themselves. I will be here, though. Would you be bored with just me? And what time is your flight? 5:45? That's dark then and I don't drive in the dark."
"Yes!" I reassure her. "I will miss everyone, but I still want to see you. I can take a train or a towncar or a bus or cab or a shuttle to the airport."
We hang up. And a cloud of unsettleness comes over me. I'm excited but feel a bit of apprehension and worried that I might have booked my flight too soon without really waiting to formulate my plans more.
If this hick-up is an indication of what I'm about to embark upon in a few weeks, then I better settle in, put on my gloves and buckle up for some unexpected adventures. Life has a way of repeating itself.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Faith and Fate and Friends
I was 19 years old when I spent a hot summer in East Texas at a bible boot camp for young teens. (That's my own affectionate name for it).
I wasn't raised religious. I was born catholic and attended catechism when I was small, but my parents pulled us out when the church began charging money for it.
When I was 17 and on a summer vacation traveling across country with my family and friends, I picked up a tattered-up little paperback book and read it while sitting in the back of a Dodge Van traveling somewhere between California and North Carolina.
This lovely book made me see things in an entirely new way and would undoubtedly change me forever. The book was called Mr. God, this is Anna. It's the story of a 5-year-old girl who's found wandering the streets of London who turns out be quite extraordinary and insightful. It hit such a cord with me and so I longed to have that same close friendship with God as she did.
It was because of that book and two years later, I decided to spend my summer at a bible boot camp in East Texas. I was like fish out of water. Everyone carried around leather bound bibles with their names engraved on the cover. I had a paper-back catholic teenage bible called THE WAY that had faces of teenagers inside the words. I didn't know any of the songs they sang, I didn't know how to pray and was confused by bible stories... thought it was Gepetto living in the belly of a whale and who was Jonah.
One morning we were called into a meeting and were told we were going to be put on teams of four and venture off into small towns around East Texas for a long weekend called a "Faith Outreach". We would be entirely on our own with nothing but a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and $5. We had a week to start exercising our faith by praying in $5. We could only use the $5 dollars that came to us in an act of faith.
I prayed for $5 to come in every single day. Every morning when the mail would arrive, I would eagerly check my mailbox and every morning, I came up empty-handed.
A week later, on the morning of the Faith Outreach, I saw the white school bus circle around up the drive to take us on our adventure. But I still hadn't received my $5. I was embarrassed and disappointed and felt foolish having my small overnight bag packed with clothes. I was convinced everyone would see right through me and know I'm not loved by God as much as they were.
"Does everyone have their $5?!"
I felt my face sting from shame. I raised my hand and was relieved to discover a handful of others who also didn't have $5. We were told to bow our heads and pray once more and then go to our mailboxes to find the money. Sure enough, there was an envelope in my box addressed "To Shawn from Jesus" and there was a $5 dollar bill in there. I recognized Roger's handwriting on the envelope.
Off we went on our adventure! I was let off in the oldest town in Texas called Nacodoches near the campus of Stephen F. Austin State University.
Along with three other girls, I stuffed my overnight bag inside the girls' locker room and then walked blocks and blocks down to the K-Mart and ordered All-You-Can-Eat fish sticks for our meal, bought baby ruth candy bars for dessert and umbrellas on that rainy summer day and before we left K-Mart, we realized we had spent nearly all our money.
Back on campus, we met some girls who invited us to stay with them for the weekend.
One of the girl's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they called him Bo. He graciously offered us his Pontiac Trans Am to drive around in during our short stay.
Once the weekend was over and after the white bus picked us up along the highway and drove us back to the bible boot camp, we sat around in a circle and told our stories to each other how we learned faith in our unforgettable adventures. Sitting there in a glowing silence, feeling good how we were all protected and learned of God's faith, the leader passed the offering basket around asking us to thank God by putting the $5 back in the basket. We didn't have our $5. So it cost us another $5 to thank God for teaching us faith. Imagine that! $10 dollars. It took me weeks to pay that off.
Fourteen years later, I become best friends with a girl who lives nearly 2,000 miles away from where I live and who somewhere in a conversation, tells me she went to Stephen F. Austin and one of her room-mate's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they just called him Bo. And she talked of some girls staying in the apartment one hot summer weekend and Bo loaning them his blue Trans Am.
Did I learn about faith that weekend when I was 19? No, of course not. But fourteen years later, I DID learn we live in a small world. And I learned more about fate than faith and even though we didn't meet up that weekend and become fast friends, we did so years later.
I guess what I'm tryin' to say is... I believe that some friendships are meant to happen to each other and no matter the time or the place or the distance in years, if its meant to be, it's meant to be. Its the faith in friendships and the fate that brings it altogether that is more powerful than a 3-day outreach on the backroads of East Texas. And this Thanksgiving I am grateful for such a friendship as this.
I wasn't raised religious. I was born catholic and attended catechism when I was small, but my parents pulled us out when the church began charging money for it.
When I was 17 and on a summer vacation traveling across country with my family and friends, I picked up a tattered-up little paperback book and read it while sitting in the back of a Dodge Van traveling somewhere between California and North Carolina.
This lovely book made me see things in an entirely new way and would undoubtedly change me forever. The book was called Mr. God, this is Anna. It's the story of a 5-year-old girl who's found wandering the streets of London who turns out be quite extraordinary and insightful. It hit such a cord with me and so I longed to have that same close friendship with God as she did.
It was because of that book and two years later, I decided to spend my summer at a bible boot camp in East Texas. I was like fish out of water. Everyone carried around leather bound bibles with their names engraved on the cover. I had a paper-back catholic teenage bible called THE WAY that had faces of teenagers inside the words. I didn't know any of the songs they sang, I didn't know how to pray and was confused by bible stories... thought it was Gepetto living in the belly of a whale and who was Jonah.
One morning we were called into a meeting and were told we were going to be put on teams of four and venture off into small towns around East Texas for a long weekend called a "Faith Outreach". We would be entirely on our own with nothing but a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and $5. We had a week to start exercising our faith by praying in $5. We could only use the $5 dollars that came to us in an act of faith.
I prayed for $5 to come in every single day. Every morning when the mail would arrive, I would eagerly check my mailbox and every morning, I came up empty-handed.
A week later, on the morning of the Faith Outreach, I saw the white school bus circle around up the drive to take us on our adventure. But I still hadn't received my $5. I was embarrassed and disappointed and felt foolish having my small overnight bag packed with clothes. I was convinced everyone would see right through me and know I'm not loved by God as much as they were.
"Does everyone have their $5?!"
I felt my face sting from shame. I raised my hand and was relieved to discover a handful of others who also didn't have $5. We were told to bow our heads and pray once more and then go to our mailboxes to find the money. Sure enough, there was an envelope in my box addressed "To Shawn from Jesus" and there was a $5 dollar bill in there. I recognized Roger's handwriting on the envelope.
Off we went on our adventure! I was let off in the oldest town in Texas called Nacodoches near the campus of Stephen F. Austin State University.
Along with three other girls, I stuffed my overnight bag inside the girls' locker room and then walked blocks and blocks down to the K-Mart and ordered All-You-Can-Eat fish sticks for our meal, bought baby ruth candy bars for dessert and umbrellas on that rainy summer day and before we left K-Mart, we realized we had spent nearly all our money.
Back on campus, we met some girls who invited us to stay with them for the weekend.
One of the girl's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they called him Bo. He graciously offered us his Pontiac Trans Am to drive around in during our short stay.
Once the weekend was over and after the white bus picked us up along the highway and drove us back to the bible boot camp, we sat around in a circle and told our stories to each other how we learned faith in our unforgettable adventures. Sitting there in a glowing silence, feeling good how we were all protected and learned of God's faith, the leader passed the offering basket around asking us to thank God by putting the $5 back in the basket. We didn't have our $5. So it cost us another $5 to thank God for teaching us faith. Imagine that! $10 dollars. It took me weeks to pay that off.
Fourteen years later, I become best friends with a girl who lives nearly 2,000 miles away from where I live and who somewhere in a conversation, tells me she went to Stephen F. Austin and one of her room-mate's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they just called him Bo. And she talked of some girls staying in the apartment one hot summer weekend and Bo loaning them his blue Trans Am.
Did I learn about faith that weekend when I was 19? No, of course not. But fourteen years later, I DID learn we live in a small world. And I learned more about fate than faith and even though we didn't meet up that weekend and become fast friends, we did so years later.
I guess what I'm tryin' to say is... I believe that some friendships are meant to happen to each other and no matter the time or the place or the distance in years, if its meant to be, it's meant to be. Its the faith in friendships and the fate that brings it altogether that is more powerful than a 3-day outreach on the backroads of East Texas. And this Thanksgiving I am grateful for such a friendship as this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
