My Mac is unstable

I love my Mac, but it's been giving me some problems. It's not even two years old and for the past few months, I've hauled this large computer to our local Apple store three times already for the Mac Genuis to take to test it out and each time, he says, "it tested out okay" and then deletes everything off it and reinstalls my system.

Each time I lose everything I have.

I miss my itunes. (especially the ones I paid for and the free ones I download on Tuesdays that I never made backup copies of). I miss even more my personal photographs I store in iPhotos. Losing email addresses of friends, letters I have saved, personal illustrations and designs and then, what really catches me by surprise, is the loss of the bookmarks of blogs and inspiring places I visit during my free time.

I really do miss these unmet people who's lives have touched mine in such an intimate modern way.

I miss the woman back east who kept posting her home improvement projects online. And the artist's work who walks a mile out of town everyday to draw a picture of what she sees. There was a couple in Seattle who was trying to sell their house and I enjoyed reading their progress. Did they sell it? I won't ever know now. Another blogger who kept me entertained by drawing the backs of people's heads while she attended church. And, another blogger who was stricken with breast cancer. The last time I read her blog, she was going in for another round of chemo. How is she now?

The season has changed from Summer to Fall. I can feel it. The air next to me is warm but when I extend my hand, I feel a touch of cool nipping at my fingers. Soon the leaves will turn from green to yellow and red and orange and then slowly drop to the ground.

And this season begins another cycle. A new season. A new season of blogs I will enjoy and bookmark until the computer might crash again and the cycle begins again. I know this sounds silly (even to me) but I really do miss those whos lives have touched mine over the internet even though they may not be aware they have. And the days feel a bit cooler because of my loss.

New York, New York

I'm home from the Big Apple without a hitch! Well,--unless you call experiencing an emergency landing in Salt Lake City a hitch (!)-- everything else went smoothly.

I LOVE New York City. It really is an amazing city. I loved every single moment I was there. Hailing cabs, walking, riding the train, walking and walking. Did I say walking? Looking up was so powerful and it made me dizzy when the clouds passed over the large towering buildings above, looking as if they were toppling down on me.

The first few days I lived and worked in Chelsea. I worked with some really interesting people and I felt so comfortable working there. When my business trip was over, I spent the weekend in a large 5-story brownstone in Midtown, where on a warm evening, we sat on the rooftop talking and taking in the view. The Empire State Building seemed so close, I felt I could reach out and touch it.

On Saturday, we walked from Bryant Park to Rockefeller Center over to St Patricks Cathedral and Trump Towers down to Central Park and Tavern on the Green to the Dakota, over to Times Square and wandered through the large Macy Building and the Empire State Building. It was amazing, zigzagging around people as we walked the busy sidewalks and then stopping to turn a corner and suddenly discover we're on a street I've only seen in movies and tv.

A year ago, I received a pair of my first expensive polarized sunglasses. And seeing through these wonderful glasses, I see things so much more clearly. The colors appear more intense. For instance, this morning I saw clouds in the distance that I couldn't see when I had my sunglasses off.

And that's what New York did to me. I saw things in a newer and clearer way. It gave me a new perspective of seeing life and this world of ours we live in that I would not have normally seen. I'm still unsure of all the feelings stirring about me, since my experience there is still new. But I know I'm not the same.

What's all the buzz?

My very first illustrations on fabric have come in from the Mill!!!

Several days after I made my wish that I wanted to see my illustrations on fabric, it came to pass. I drew these girl silhouettes and now it's in a zillion different colors!

The vestas say "buZZ around" but originally everyone thought it was "buGG around" because the z looked more like a g before I changed it.

I thought that was so cute! "BuGG Around". Though it doesn't really make any sense, unless you drive a VW Beetle as I do.

So now I think of myself bugging around town instead of driving.

I fly out to NYC in a week and a half to work in the office there a few days and meet my east coast coworkers. I look forward to this new adventure.

Nana

Nana lived in a San Francisco neighborhood across the highway from Candlestick Park and Little Hollywood in Visitacion Valley just above a barber shop and nextdoor to a dry cleaners. I LOVED visiting her. She'd serve me coffee loaded with sugar and milk and didn't worry she was stunting my growth. We'd play black jack with real money she saved up. She always left her kitchen door open and the wind would whip around and feel so chilly, but she would wipe the sweat off her brow complaining of hot flashes.

Her boyfriend was named Meryl. And he smoke tipperillos and drank Olympia beer. Nana smoked Kools and drank burbon.

One day, Nana happily agreed to let my cousin style her hair and give her a permanent. When it was time to pull out the curlers, all of her hair came out with it! Nana laughed so hard when she saw herself in the mirror.

That afternoon she went shopping for a wig.

My place of work

I'm really loving my new place of work. It feels so comfortable. I LOVE the people there. The compatability is extraordinary. I love coming in each day. I feel so blessed.

The art studio is filled with fabric. Some fabric came in today that I designed. I stared at it when no one was looking. I felt it with my fingers. My heart felt so warm, I felt as though it was about to melt into my skin.

It was something I wished for and it came true.

I pinched myself to see if this was a dream. And then I realized it still is a dream. A dream come true.

Yay for my sparkling floors

My floors are finished. My unpacking is not. The loveseat in the photo belongs in another room. But it is heavy because it's a pullout bed and the heavy bars underneath have already scratched my floors. So for now, it stays there, until some strong men help carry it to its destination.

My large TV still sits on the floor as well. Everything feels in a disarray.

If I could only wave a magic wand.

Or, even if I felt better, I could plow through my lists of things to do. But instead, I just keep adding more to my list.

I love going to a place to work. There, I can focus on things at hand. Here, at home, it's like I am wading through thick mud. I feel as though I'm losing my footing under my To Do List that is weighing me down. I can't seem to climb my way out of it.

I just stare at all the things I need to do. And then. I add more to my list.

I need to call a plumber. My car is dirty. I have weeds everywhere in my yard that I need to pull. My house is a mess. My backyard lawn has turned yellow. I have phone calls to return. I'm out of shampoo. I need to buy groceries. I need to do laundry. I have emails to return. I need to bring my lawn mower to the shop. I need to take a truckload to the dump. I'm still having computer problems. It's the second time, I have lost everything on my computer in two months. (Apple thinks its my logic board failing). I'm sick about it. But not nearly as sick as I've been feeling.

I am thinking it wasn't the beef jerky I ate afterall.

I'm still going through numerous medical tests and I hope we can find what it is so I can start the road of recovery. It's been five long weeks of intestinal distress and after two separate antibiotics later, I still fight a fever from time to time. oy.

I know when I feel better, my list won't seem so overwhelming. There is nothing I like more than to cross things off my list. Now I'm just feeling cross about my list.

But. Enough about me. How are you doing?

Feed Your Wild Side

Click on it to see a bigger image.



"FEED YOUR WILD SIDE" is the slogan of Jack Link's Beef Jerky.

You must go visit their website! I believe chunks of the fury "big foot" character shown on their site was stuffed inside my bag of Beef Jerky I ate.

The nurse called me this morning.

"How are you feeling?"
"Still having problems..." I said, "Has the test results come in yet?"
"Yes, " she said. "They turned out normal."

NORMAL!?

Ok. So, I'm happy I don't have any parasites dwelling inside me, and maybe that's all they tested me for. Perhaps it never occurred to them to test me for BOTULISM.

Seeing the photos, I feel sick all over again. The expiration date on the beef jerky is Sept 2007. I just hope I don't expire before then.

Shaken by the Jerk in Beef Jerky

So. How was I supposed to know that the beef jerky I ate while in Texas was rancid? Within days, it had turned various shades of green with white spots and sprouting leaves like a bean stalk.

Lovely.

My friend just called and described the remaining bag of beef jerky to me over the telephone. It was the bag I was snacking on during our roadtrip to Austin.

I started to feel sick the morning I left Texas.

I flew home to San Francisco, touching down in Houston for an hour layover while suffering with a chill, tingly skin and what doctors call "intestinal distress". Eight days later, after too many nights waking up in a drenching sweat, red splotches on my skin, light-headedness, blurry vision and painful jerky abdominal cramps, I made an appointment to see my doctor.

"He can see you on August 3rd".
"But. It's July 24th."
"There's a 3:45 pm appointment on August 3rd and if you don't take it, that appointment will be snatched up in ten minutes, " she said, without any empathy.

"Can you have the doctor call me?" I asked.
Huge loud sigh. "What's your number?"

I thought he could suggest something to me over the phone. He called me several hours later and after I told him my symptoms, he asked me to come in immediately and I went in the following morning for lab tests and a prescription for antibiotics.

I felt miserable. I was beginning a new job. I was having my floors refinished and my house was still bare with furniture. Plus, the fumes were harsh to breathe in. We were experiencing a record-breaking heatwave and It was 112 degrees outside and inside my nearly empty house varied between 94 and 97 degrees. I also had a birthday through this sickness. I tried hard to cover up my uncomfortableness but it wasn't easy to always hide my stomach shaking around like a small earthquake. I kept pretending everything was fine.

--(interruption)--

We just had an earthquake. I'm not kidding you. As soon as I wrote the word, it hit. If I didn't just see the Seismic Graph online, I would have thought I was experiencing another abdominal cramp.

I've had a few different lab tests and though I haven't received the results yet, I'm now quite certain it was the green beef jerky sprouting leaves that made me sick. I'm on my 15th day and just now feeling more comfortable in my body.

Well. Until about five minutes ago. Before we had an earthquake and shook me up again. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go stand under a doorway for a bit. Or at least until I need to scurry down the hallway again to visit the first room on the right.

I will light more candles

I was always the kid who saved her favorite food item for last at the dinner table --only to have my sister lean over quickly, stick a fork in it and push it into her mouth before I could fathom what she was doing.

You know that lovely smelling candle I’ve been saving from Illuminations? The one I placed near the window? It melted. And those fragrant soaps I’ve been saving in a basket in my bathroom have lost their scent.

I think the impulse to save something good for a later time is perhaps a signal for me to enjoy it now. Good things I enjoy will come for me later. I don’t need to hold on to them now.

It feels almost shameful to me to have done this to myself. I want to use and enjoy what I have and give away that which I am not using or enjoying anymore.

In the movie, Sideways, Maya blasts Miles for hoarding a '61 Cheval Blanc (one of the greatest Bordeaux) for a special occasion. She says to him, "I think the day you open a '61 Cheval Blanc, that's the special occasion."

For now on, I am going to make a conscious effort to create special moments in my life by enjoying the things I have. I will light more candles. No more waiting for that special moment to come to me. Because for the most part, we often don't recognize a special moment until after it has happened and we are looking back.
Why wait a lifetime to use the special things in your life when we already know a lifetime is too short to wait.

It's Blazing Hot!

whew.

It's a scorching 109 degrees here in Dallas and it's 9 pm. The earth feels so parched. The locusts are singing their songs. Belting out really loud at times. (or yelling!)

I fly into San Francisco tomorrow. My aunt who lives in San Bruno tells me, "Oh Shawnee, it's so hot, but I got on my sweatshirt!"

I've been having such a wonderful time despite this intense heat.

We took a road trip down to Austin for a few days. We stayed a couple of nights at the funky, yet trendy Austin Motel.. in a cool room near by the pool on S. Congress Avenue.

Each morning we'd walk next door to Jo's Coffee Shop and the first morning we ordered a hot coffee, but this morning we ordered an iced-coffee and I think we walked with our backs so straight from feeling proud of our order, I think I pulled a muscle.

We met my San Francisco pals, Wes and his wife, Kyle at Barton Springs. I felt like I was living in the past watching the people swim. And, especially when a tired out cowboy rodeo clown introduced us to his dog saying, "He starred in Billy Bob's movie THE ALAMO." And then invited us to spend an evening with him watching the Play on the hillside overlooking Barton Springs: "Seven Brides For Seven Brothers", which we politely declined.

Wes taught me something he picked up since he's moved to Texas.

He said, "Folks can gossip as much as they want about somebody, just as long as they finish their sentence with: "Bless their heart".

For example: "Can you believe Miss Lucille was bendin' over at the local Piggly Wiggly when her dress hiked up and it exposed her "Sunday" undies and it's Tuesday afternoon?! (sigh). (a few moments). "Bless her heart."

It's still blazing hot. But, I will miss this place and the people here when I go.

Happy Birthday Julie

Today is Julie's birthday.

She is, happily for me, a good friend of mine.

Years ago, in our early twenties, and before she was married to Buddy, she and I travelled around the country in a mazda with a broken-down air conditioner during the summer that lasted several years.

I remember while living in New York City, for a time, we hung out with the then unknown singer/songwriter Shawn Colvin. Shawn had one of those flats that had a toilet in her kitchen. And, I remember Shawn bathing, while I sat on the toilet while Julie heated water for tea at the same time.

Julie and I didn't have much money back then. We'd practically live off a slice of cheese pizza a day.

I remember one time Julie was opening for another band and as we drove through the City, she waved her dress out the window to iron it out.

Another time, while in Tulsa, we were selling records and Julie never felt comfortable selling records. Ever.

And, one day, I offered to write BUY SETS on the back of her eye lids. I really did believe customers would read her message sublimely and buy an entire set of records. Dear sweet Julie truly believed in me. She handed me her eye liner pencil and I wrote BUY on on eye lid and SETS on the other and to this day, still feel a sting in my heart when I remember that day. Within moments, all Julie had were dark smudges around her eyes. And, I don't recall Julie selling a single record because of my bright idea.

Julie is my lifetime friend. She saved me in so many ways. She is my walking angel in my life.

While nearly murdered and lying in a hospital bed in Olympia, Julie rushed to my side and spent the entire night with me before my mom and sister flew up to take care of me.

I flew into Dallas yesterday.

I met Julie in East Texas. Being back here and coupled with her birthday, I can't stop thinking of her. I spent an evening with friends in the outskirts of Dallas tonight in a small town called Midlothian.

Maybe it's the hot summer night. Maybe it's the way the trees grow out here. Or the stars shining so brightly in the night sky. Maybe it's because Midlothian reminds me of a chapter in the bible.

I miss you, Julie. In a very huge way.

May your birthday bring you all the tender joys and magic life can bring.

You live in my heart forever.

. . . And then there was no furniture

I just read a newspaper article about a woman in Washington who was reported missing from her husband. The police found her body buried under a huge pile of clothes inside her house after a 10-hour search. Her husband believes she fell while looking for the phone and because there were so many piles of stuff, the man couldn't find where she fell.

She suffered from a condition called Hoarding.

It was estimated that several tons of debris was piled up inside the house and the police's heads kept touching the ceiling as they climbed over the clutter. They didn't even see her until their second search of the home.

I am not a hoarder by any means, but I have been wanting to get rid of my extra clutter before the summer ended.

Now I've been forced into it more quickly than I expected as I'm getting my floors refinished beginning tomorrow morning.

Within the last few months, I've been wanting less clutter in my life. It's an interesting phenomenon. It's happening all around me. Because I know, once I put my sight and heart on such a thing, the universe begins to set this in motion and helps me out.

It all began about a week and a half ago, when my hard drive crashed.

I lost everything. Every email, bookmarks, email addresses, artwork, photos, itunes, stories I had written. Invoices. Bank statements. Everything. Those who have experienced this, can relate to this huge, sudden loss.

I had planned to back things up, but I wrestled with the notion that I would have more CDs and more CDs meant more clutter. So I held back and now have ... nothing.

It was horrifying to me when it happened, but I've dealt with the loss and now enjoying my bare hard drive. I plan to keep it clean and organized and back things up on a more regular basis.

And, when an 85-year-old man on oxygen, gave me his used treadmill, a soft-tub and other things last summer, I reluctantly took them off his hands, worrying if I had any room to store them, but over the weekend, he apparently decided it was worth $3,000.00 and wanted the money immediately.

Instead, I packed them up and delivered his gifts back. Immediately.

It feels good to have those things out of my house. I am enjoying the extra space.

Once my floors are redone, I am only going to bring back inside my house only the things I really want. And the other things will either be tossed in the garbage, donated or sold in a garage sale.

I'm really excited about this new place of calm I'm inviting into my life.

Neighborhood Invasion

Remember before computer games and Columbine, this seemed normal seeing boys walking around carrying guns? I just looked out of my front window and was startled to see them. I rarely see children dressed up in fatiques playing army anymore.

Or. At least, I hope they are playing.
I'm still gonna drop and roll past my living room window, though. Just in case.

The Midnight Sun

Do you remember that old Twilight Zone episode called THE MIDNIGHT SUN? I feel like I've been trapped inside that tv show.

If I remember it correctly, there was some sort of catastrophic event that happened and knocked the earth off its orbit, sending it closer to the sun. It became grossly hot. Everyone left New York City looking for colder climates, except two women who decided to live out the rest of their short, hot, sweaty lives in their old apartment building. The sun never set. I remember one haunting scene of an oil painting that was melting with the heat and a thermometer that burst.

It is nearly midnight.

I keep looking at my paintings. Are they melting? It is 90 degrees. Inside my house.

I've lived in this house for nearly three years and I don't remember it ever being this hot in here before. I have fans going throughout the house. But the fans just stir up hot air and blow it all around.. like the hot desert wind I felt last week while in Las Vegas. It doesn't cool you. It just makes you lethargic.

My paintings are fine, though. Nothing has melted down. My thermostat is still in place.

A friend of mine who lives in muggy Tennessee was shocked to hear I don't have air conditioning. He told me yesterday that he'd rather live in a single-wide trailer with air conditioning than in a palace without.

I'm thinkin' if I lived in a single-wide trailer and the air conditioning went out, I'd just be a gal living in a very hot single-wide trailer. So I would take the palace any day.

I know it won't stay this hot for long. The fog will roll in from the coast in about a day or two and it will cool down.

The evenings will even begin to feel a bit chilly.

As I recall watching the ending to The Twilight Zone ... I remember the older woman died of a heat stroke and the younger woman also eventually collapses, but when she awakes, it is dark and snowing. She was just dreaming. The earth was actually heading away from the sun!

I just felt a chill!

No. It's not snowing. The fans are finally doing their job. I went to look at the thermometer and it's now a cool 88 inside my house.

I think I'm gonna be okay.

Floors and flying

I spent a great deal of this afternoon pulling up more carpet.

It's the final room of the house. This extra middle bedroom stores my cds, my old videotapes and cassettes and books. So it's just a room filled with ... stuff. Lots of it.

There was a brief moment of insanity when I thought I could pull up a strip of carpet and use the heavy large bookshelf as a straight cutting edge for me. So I kneeled down and pulled up the carpet and my large heavy bookshelf, decided to tip over backwards instead of standing firm.

I watched in horror, as it crashed loudly down to the floor, splintering framed glass pictures in a zillion pieces, breaking the leg off an end table and breaking endless CD cases.

I tried to grab it in midair but it only took me quickly with it to the floor.

It reminded me of when Ann wanted to fly.

We were teenagers. She asked Brook if she could hang on to the back of his truck while he drove away. She imagined her legs lifting up parallel to her head as if she was flying.

It sounded like a great idea at first. But, being smarter than dumb kids, we decided her legs wouldn't probably lift like that and would just drag along the street.

Her life was probably saved that night.

I miss Ann. I wonder if she still dreams of flying. (And I hope she hasn't tried)

A drinking cup for "people on the go"

"Begin with another's to end with your own"
~Baltasar Gracian, Philosopher

In the 1950s, fast-food restaurants added drive-thru lanes so people on the go, no longer had to park their cars and walk into the restaurants to order their food. Later banks borrowed that idea. And today, there's all sorts of Drive-Thrus. While in Las Vegas, I noticed a couple can get married in the Drive-Thru at The Little White Wedding Chapel.

There are tons of ideas out there.

Maybe you'll spot it by seeing a bad idea and turning it into good.
Do you like the small envelope as a drinking glass or can you improve it?

All it takes is just one innovative thought and you can change the world. That's all it takes. You can do it. I believe in you.

Viva Las Vegas!

I am in Las Vegas at the Mandalay Bay enjoying a small part of the How Conference. I am really happy I am here. I feel more inspired and more creative by coming here. I bought a ton of design/creative books and have enjoyed their fabulous pools and I feel refreshed.

The Ebay conference is also going on here. I've noticed that both groups of people have distinctive looks and I can spot one from the other in an instant.

I also noticed I've had absolutely no desire to hit the casinos this time around. Okay, granted, I am not usually a gambler -- except for taking risks with my dreams.

But in the past, I discovered that all it takes is walking through the casinos, and the allure and excitement of hearing that endless stream of coins tumbling out of the machine and seeing the lights flashing and the clanging bells going off, that it creates such a buzz of fun and magic that and I am drawn into the gamble.

This trip, however, I noticed it is especially quiet. No hype; no excitement. It's because the casinos no longer have coin-operated machines, and instead, use a bar-coded ticket which replaces nickels, dimes and quarters with paper tickets. I have no idea who is winning or losing. What was once a sensory-overload, has now turned into a rather quiet and dull (though still smokey) walk through the casino.

Despite this quiet hush on the casino floor, apparently people are putting more money into the machines than ever before, because it's coinless, they don't have a sense they're playing with real money as they would, by scooping up the coins from the tray and shoving them back into the slot.

But, for me, the allure and the excitement has dramatically lessened and my guess in regaining that experience might be harder to come by than even the jackpots.

My past is paving my future

I was reading through my 1988 journal when I came across this bank deposit slip of mine tucked in between the pages. This was ALL the money I had on February 26, 1988.

And, as poor as I was, I remember feeling okay about my life. I felt rich in my poor state.

Well. Okay. Not rich. But, I figured I had enough.


On one side of the page was a list I had written:

Goals for 1988:

Make $17,000 a year.
Design greeting cards.
Buy an Artograph Projector.
Buy a Video Editing Deck.
Videotape weddings.

On the other side of the page was the lyrics to "The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades" by Timbuk3.


I was an optimist.

. . . . . .

The only thing I accomplished on my list that year, was buying the Artograph Projector, but eventually, I DID make $17,000 a year and designed hundreds of greeting cards and bought a video editing deck and even videotaped weddings among a slew of other projects.

But. It all came about because I believed in myself and I didn't let a lack of funds stop me from dreaming.

Today, I am not rich by any stretch of the word. But I am a self-employed artist who is finding her way in this world.

I believe at this very moment, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

And I believe my past, though checkered by some struggles and seemingly failures, has made my present life much more appreciative and productive.

An Unwanted House Guest

I’ve had all I can stand and I can’t stand no more
Get out of this house

~Shawn Colvin

Okay. If there's one thing I hate more than Oprah's 1998 movie, BELOVED, it's finding a rat in my house. But if there's one thing I hate more than a rat in the house is finding a large alligator-salamander-lizard in my living room.

My adorable little sweet Mollie brought this lovely gift to me just now from the backyard. (Or maybe she stole it from the zoo).

I have no idea what it is, but the moment I let out a blood curdling scream, it slithered quickly behind the large and heavy armoire where my TV sits in my living room.

Can someone come over and save my life?

Illustration Friday: Cake

A lady from a large grocery store chain with a bakery department called me on the phone from seemingly nowhere and asked if I would like to come in for an interview to be a cake decorator.

A cake decorator! I never had ever thought of being a cake decorator before-- except maybe once when I was using my Easy Bake Oven as a kid. It sort of appealed to me in that moment.

"When do you want me to come in?" I asked.
"Anytime today, " she said. "Just come into the Manager's office and ask for Char."

So I did. She took one look at me and said, "You're hired".

It felt pretty nice to being hired so quickly and easily on the spot. But then my smile and feeling good about myself faded instantly when she said, "You'll be making approximately $8 an hour, just four hours a day, then we take out $40 of union pay out of your paycheck each week so you'll gross $120 and with taxes and benefits taken out, you can probably count on about $78 a week. Sound good? Plus, you get one floating holiday off your first year and then after that you get your birthday and anniversary date off. Come in on Monday, to pick up your uniform"!

On Sunday, I walked into that large grocery store and told the young teenage manager that I could not take the job.

She just jeered at me and blew so hard, the bangs of her hair flowed back and forth by her breath and said, "Well, it's a GOOD THING you didn't quit AFTER we paid the money for you to attend Cake Decorating School!"

What I know in my Heart

I know in my heart that I am responsible for my own life. It's not how much money I make or what credentials I have earned, but it's about my soul and spirit.

I also know that ...

1. There are always two sides to every story.
2. That sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that never gives me the right to be cruel.
3. True friendships grow, even over the longest distance.
4. When someone says "Stop by anytime" they don't really mean it.
5. Being kind is more important than being right.
6. To accept compliments more graciously. Not to roll my eyes or interrupt them or embarrass them for their poor taste. I will listen. Absorb it. Believe it.
7. Even though my background and circumstances of life may have influenced who I am, I am responsible for who I become.
8. I can never make someone love me. The best I can do is be someone who can be loved.
9. Life is shorter than we expect it be.
10. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.
11. To always do my best. On some days, it may seem like I'm just barely getting by, but if it's the best I can do that day, then it's still doing my best.
12. No matter much I care, I need to realize that some people just don't care back. And there's nothing I can do about that.
13. The best way to get my house clean is to invite friends over.
14. That money seems to move away from those who try to hold on to it, and toward those who share it.
15. I feel better about myself when I make others feel better about themselves.
16. That no matter how good a friend someone is, they're going to hurt you every once in awhile and you must forgive them for that.
17. That those who want to share their religious views with me almost never want me to share mine with them.
18. Arrogant people bore me.
19. I shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret, because it could change my life forever.
20. I am responsible for my own happiness and no one else can do that for me.
21. If I do not follow my passion and enjoy my work, then my job becomes a prison.
22. It is never appropriate to say hurtful and mean things to my friends as I will regret it in a huge way.
23. Listening ... truly listening ... is more difficult than talking.
24. It's a lot easier to react than to think.
25. It's not what you have in your life but WHO you have in your life that counts.
26. To love the journey and not the destination.
27. And just because someone doesn't love me the way I want them to love me, doesn't mean they don't love me to the best they are able.
28. The price I pay for a moment of joy when exposing a secret is destroyed by a lifetime of remorse and regret.
29. No matter how hard bad my heart is broken, the world doesn't stop for my grief.
30. Nobody cares if I don't dance well. They're too busy worrying about their own dance steps to notice.
31. To eat what I enjoy and stop when I've had enough.
32. Negative people drain me and I am not obligated to keep them in my life.
33. Not to form a belief about myself based on other's negative comments toward me.
34. Families are about loyalty, love and support and do not need to be biological.
35. To always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time I ever see them.
36. Maturity has more to do with what types of experiences I've had and what I've learned from them and less about how many birthdays I've celebrated.
37. When to draw the line between being nice and not hurting someone's feelings to standing up for what I believe.
38. Sometimes it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. I also need to learn to forgive myself.
39. Know who my good friends are and continue to work hard on maintaining meaningful friendships.
40. No amount of security is worth the suffering of a life lived chained to a situation that has killed your dreams.
41. A person who quietly sits at home and cares for an ailing parent is as strong as any person who has climbed a mountain.
42. Hardship has made me stronger and self-reliant.
43. I can keep on going long after I think I can't.
44. Not to let fear of making a mistake keep me from going after what I want.
45. Three can sometimes be a crowd.
46. I value my belongings when I have fewer of them.
47. To resist the urge to say "I told you so".
48. Everyone has a story that's worth asking about and listening to.
49. Money is a lousy way to determine someone's worth.
50. I am capable of more than I can ever imagine.

That's Disgusting!

I didn't draw that picture.

It's scanned from a kid's book that I absolutely love along with "That's Mean and That's Dangerous!"

The book reminds me so much of a conversation I heard recently between two kids.

The girl asked, "What would you rather eat? A Hair Sandwich or a Booger Sandwich?"
The boy thought for a bit and replied, "I guess the Hair Sandwich. I'd wash it first with good smelling shampoo so it would taste delicious."

Then the boy asked the girl, "What would you rather eat? Cat poop over ice cream or Blood over ice cream?"

The girl squealed. "That's gross! I don't want to play anymore!"
"You HAFTA play!" he said.
"No, you can't make me!"
"Yes, I can. What is it? Blood or Poop?!"
She thought for a while and asked, "Is it a cute little kitten's poop?"



To see more funny pictures from this book, click here.

Illustration Friday: Sorry!

It's always funny to watch people monkey around at the beach until someone gets hit in the head by a beach ball. Then it's hilarious!

Laughing Betty and the gas leak

So, Dan smelled a gas leak in my studio-office.
I sniffed and I sniffed.

Yeah. I began to think I smelled it, too. So I called our local gas & electric company.

I waited hours for someone to show up. At 11:30 pm Betty showed up at my door with so many pens in her front pocket and she wore the roundest shape hair I have ever seen. There was a small circle of blue ink that left a ring around her pocket from a leaky pen -or two.

She smelled the gas odor before I open the door. "Yup, that's a gas leak alright!" she says, and explodes into a crazy belly laugh, where she leans backwards, looking up at the stars and then throws herself forward, to bend down toward her shoes.

She states she needs to climb under my house to get to this leak and now it's my turn to do the belly laugh. I was under my house soon after I first moved in and noticed how tight it was down under there. I knew I needed a much slimmer worker to climb under my house with the low lying pipes and Laughing Betty didn't fit the bill. I worried. I wanted her to know how tight and cramped it was down there, without pointing any attention to her weight.

But. She insisted.

I walked her around to the opening under my house and she kneeled down to take a look.

"Hold my flashlight Lil' Lady" she said to me.

As she crawled in, I crouched down behind her and leaned in to shine the flash light over her head so she could see, but she filled up the entire door light of space.

"HeyYyYy!" She shouted. "I can't seeeeee!"

I'm searched frantically for an opening of space to shine the light. Her legs were kicking widly and then... she was in. I handed her the flashlight and she started to crawl and I said, "You okay in there?" She turns around (which took seemingly forever to face me) and says, "I'm hard of hearing! Please do not talk to me while I'm under your house, because I can't read your lips."

"Oh no," I thought, shaking my head. "This is a really lousy idea". I really felt unsettled --even panicky-- with her crawling under my house during a gas leak while I watched from the outside door.

Within a moment, I heard:"I'm STuUCcKk!"

She crawled only about six feet before getting stuck under the large pipe I suspected she would. After several pushes and tugs and pulls, she was able to free herself, but her work trousers remained behind.

She crawled back to the door of my crawl space in her underwear, laughing again like she did on my front porch. Her entire body convulsed. It made me giggle, too.

I leaned in and grabbed her work trousers and handed them to her. She hopped around squeezing herself into them while laughing into convulsions. I started to belly laugh, too. The experience caught me so off-guard. Any moment, I was waiting for Alan Funt to appear to tell me to "smile, I'm on Candid Camera!" But he never showed up. It was just me and her.

Before she left, she apologized she couldn't help and suggested I call a plumber to come out to fix the leak and she left my home still laughing.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, I got a call from her on my answering machine.

"Hello Shawn? This is Betty. Remember me from last night? I have lost my main gas key. Can you check under your house to see if I left it under there when I lost my pants? (explosion of laughter erupted). I can pick it up during a break between two house calls!"

I went back to look under my house and not only did I find Betty's key, but about $4 dollars worth of change, two credit cards, a handful of catsup packages and a half-dozen pens.

She showed up at my door and before she knocked, I heard her laughing again so hard walking up the walkway.

I opened the front door before she rang the door bell and I handed her the key and her other belongings. She thanked me and laughed at the pile of stuff that seemed so consealed inside her pockets. As she walked out the door, she turned toward me only once more and wanted to give me a quick hug. I returned it to her. She continued on her way down my front walk toward her truck and she laughed again, bending down to her shoes and then back up toward the stars, her little round vibrating hair casting shadows against the moon reflection on her truck.

Today it is quiet. And, I actually miss her.

Warm evenings and feeling nostalgic

The weather is warm and the flowers are in full bloom with such colorful fragrances of my childhood.

It instantly takes me back from when I was a kid riding my stringray bike, talking on walkie talkies and wearing my hooded sweatshirt just by the hood on my head. My mom would warn us, "Watch out for strangers!" (which seemed like an unusual request now that I think back on it). Sometimes, Terry and I would hide out behind bushes and watch for them. Once we found two men scanning the school yard with their metal detectors and we were quite certain they were going to dig a grave and come back to bury us alive.

I remember riding in the back seat of the family ford station wagon, digging my hands into the back seat hoping to find a dime or two, only to pull up a half-forgotten seat belt. We drank water from the garden hose and drank warm Kool-aid in dixie cups that was left out in the backyard sun waaay too long. We would play all day long and never return home before it got dark where the doors were open and inside the TV light flickered. I remember 5-cent scoops of ice cream at Thriftys were in the shape of a square instead of being round. Instead of ordering two scoops for a dime, we'd order two one-scoops because then we'd have an extra cone! We walked everywhere, or rode our sting-ray bikes with the card attached to the spoke to make it sound like an engine. I had a steering wheel on my bike. We ordered it from the Montgomery Ward catalog. I LOVED that steering wheel until one day in the 5th grade, a fireman came to our school to talk to us about bicycle safety and warned my mom it was unsafe for me to have that on my bike and it was taken off immediately.

We hid in anyone's yard in those days and shouted "Ollie-Ollie-Oxen-Free!" as loud we could when someone kicked over the Folgers coffee can, freeing the captives we worked so hard to find in the early shadows of the summer evening. 'Course no one ever knew what those words meant. Or if we said it correctly. We had school clothes and we had play clothes. We poked holes in lids of mayonnaise jars to house our bugs and poked holes in clay to hold our pencils or make ashtrays for our parents. We made go-carts out of cardboard attached to a wagon and tested it down steep hills. I remember watching Romper Room waiting for Miss Nancy to see me in her magic mirror. I pleaded for her to say my name, but it never happened. Troll dolls and Lucky Rabbits feet lived in our pockets. I remember playing army with the boys and we would pour catsup on Kotex pads and wrap them around our heads and under our chins for bandages. We jumped off of high front porches with umbrellas attempting to fly. We would lay out an old kitchen vinyl table cloth in Terry's front yard and run water out of the garden hose on it and it became our own Slip N Slide.

We fell out of trees. We scraped our knees, but none of us had our eyes poked out or lost an arm if we put it out the car window. And no one sued anyone. And, The Three Stooges didn't turn me into a violent person, though at the time, I misunderstood my 4th grade teacher, Mr. Crabb. I believed him when he warned our class that The Three Stooges teaches us violins, so I took up violin that year in school.

Because of my childhood, I have grown into being a creative, risk-taking, imaginative adult with the ability for fun.

Which reminds me. I need to get outside now and enjoy the daylight before the sun goes down.

Oh, Those Hardwood Floors

I want to thank those who encouraged me in keeping my hardwood floors instead of sewing the carpet scraps back together to tack back onto my floor.

I'm growing accustomed to it now.

I discovered the Swiffer Wetjet tonight. (It took me at least an hour to learn how to use it because it didn't come with a manual and I later realized by going to their website that it needed batteries!) But .. now a few hours later, I am amazed and delighted at my shiny new/old floors.

It is looking wonderful. (I'm saying this to those who will never see it in person, of course). :O)

Back when I was 10 or 11 or so, I remember my friend, Jenny, who's mother was always cleaning their hardwood floors. She would use a mop that looked like Tina Turner (from behind ... and on her head). She worked at it endlessly it seemed. And they sure seemed shiny. I remember thinking I wanted to play roller derby on it.

One afternoon, when she left to call the numbers on a Bingo game, Jenny chalked up a track around the living room and dining room, cued up Jim Croce's "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" and half the neighborhood took off on wheels.

Jenny and I grabbed a few old abaloni shells from their backyard and put it on our heads for helmets. The others followed suit. Soon we were a team. And then we were a game.

I was on the team called the Bay City Bombers. It was an Oakland, California team and I was "Joanie Weston" the Marilyn Monroe athlete in those days, I guess. We played crazy fun. I remember feeling my heart beat not just in my chest but in my head and neck and arms and hands as I madly sailed along on my skates, exhilerated beyond breath, around Jenny's living room pushing down on Paul and Todd and Brett and Jimmy and Cindy and Kim's head or shoulder away and onto the floor beneath me.

It was an unusually, crazy, unbridled fun for me, because inside my own home -- even a single dirty finger print against the back door could prove some sort of punishment.

If just for the four or eight minutes we played, I was insanely happy and knew if I died, I would die a happy child. But guess what? Jenny's mom returned.

She forgot that little bingo machine that resembled a hamster run, where you rolled the spinner and the balls would bounce and spin and eventually pop up after a long endless spin. And when she saw us all skating and pushing each other around, we were all sent home.

I was so nervous. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and pleaded with Mrs. Peterson not to tell my parents that I roller-skated on their floor.. to perhaps inform them that I was actually a crowd participant... and in doing so, I promised I would gather up any money she saw fit to repair the scratches on her floor. She remained silent when she dropped me off the front of my home. I threw a kiss and bowed.

She turned her face, without saying a word, and put her foot on the gas of her woody station wagon and headed on home with little Jenny sitting in the back seat.. her blonde hair blowing back from the open window.

It's now hard not to remember when I'm cleaning up my own floors and listening to Tina Turner..... I wonder whatever happened to little Jenny and her mother's floors... and the rest of our old roller derby team?

I miss you and the ol' team. I've got a new floor and I'm ready to play!!

Pullin' up the carpet

Guess what I just did?

I am crossing off one of my goals I planned to do this Spring/Summer because I just pulled up my carpet in my living room. I'm looking at it and scratching my head wondering "what was I thinkin'?"

No one else has seen it yet and I know hearing their opinions will help mine considerably. I love it in other people's homes. And once they're restored, I'm sure I will be happy, but for now, my back hurts and I feel dusty and feel unsure about my efforts.

One thing I am certain of is this: It is truly rewarding to do something really productive and the satisfaction of being able to say, "I did that".

I can hardly wait to write off the other goals from my list.

(Thank you Janet for your enthusiasm and encouragement)

One Red Paperclip and a Dream

Have you heard of Kyle MacDonald from Montreal? He had this dream to trade a red paper clip for something bigger and better.

It was a game he and his friends would play when he was a boy growing up. This time he decided to push it beyond his neighborhood.

So, he put his ad on Craigslist under the Barter section back in July and within twenty minutes he traded his paper clip for a fun fish pen. He was visiting his parents in Vancouver, BC at the time and met the two women at a 7-11 parking lot to make the trade. Then he traded the fun fish pen for a door knob with a smiley face on it from a woman in Seattle. From there, he went to Amherst to trade the knob for a coleman's stove. The two guys celebrated the trade by cooking steaks on it for lunch.

He travels all over making the trades in person and the trade up gets bigger and better.

Kyle dreams of owning his own house. And I bet he'll get it. He's already up to one year's free rent on a house in Phoenix.

All from a red paper clip. And a willingness to be creative and be original.

Paint By Desire

So, the other night I decided to start painting on a 24x36 canvas. Without having an easel, I always lean my paintings against the wall, while I sit or kneel or crouch on the floor to paint.

Paintings always looks so easy to do when you see them hanging on a wall in someone else's house. "I can do that!" I find myself saying all the time. "That looks easy enough!" I can see the painting in my imagination, but what comes out of my brush onto the canvas is completely different. Much like my singing voice. And now that I think about it, it's no different than my gift-wrapping efforts as well.

I am learning that painting a picture is hard work and can't be done overnight.

When I was a kid, I would sometimes have those coloring activity books that had dots inside the drawings. This was to inform me that I could use my water color paints on it. But no matter how many times I would paint in those coloring books, the paint always seem to seep through the pages. And I never understood what all those dots were about anyway.

I loved painting-by-numbers. Remember them? You never had to make any decisions about what the colors should be like or what to paint, because it was all written out for you. I still really like the style of the bold colors and the shading. It looks so easy to do. Not really any blending at all.

But, of course, it's never easy.

Unless you're a painter.

I'm not that patient when it comes to painting.

So there I was, squatting on the floor painting, when I decided to paint a straight line and I was too shaky, so I used the blue tape one uses when painting the interior walls of a home. I taped it where I wanted the line to be straight. But I was so thrilled by thinking of that grand idea, I didn't wait for the paint to dry before ripping off the tape to see my perfect straight line.

Of course, the paint smeared.

Shaken, I stood up to step back to see my painting more clearly, when I accidently kicked the water glass over filled with a mucky orangy-greenish-blue paint. It was disastrous.

As hard as I could, I wasn't able to scrub the large stain out of my living room carpet.

Remember when I spoke of my desire of pulling out my carpet? I think I'll be pulling it up sooner than later. Because right now, all I can see when I walk toward the kitchen is the stain. I know my hardwood floors will have stains, as well. But I'm ready for the change and I'm ready for the new challenges.

Wish me well. Any recommendatons/suggestions accepted.

Speed

Vespas are not the speediest of vehicles. But I love the way they look. And I always get a kick out of seeing someone driving one. They seem so colorful. Everyone has a story and I try and imagine what theirs might be.