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Actual IM conversation with an actual friend of mine:

me: coding is kinda cool in a way
him: yes
him: it’s fun
me: i wrote a program once
me: it was a ping-pong game
me: but while i could hear the ping-pong…i couldn’t see it.  weird.
him: lol
him: with skills like that you could work for microsoft

Did I mention it was DOS?
Or was it?
I think I was 18 years old . . . or something like that.

So, I upgraded my iTunes upon the suggestion of a friend.  I don’t usually do things like that, upgrading makes me extremely nervous.  I’m still sort of waiting to see what might go wrong (so far I had to reinstall my audio driver) BUT it was worth the risk.  iTunes8 has this cool Genius option that comes up with other songs that you might like based upon what you have in your existing library.  Pretty cool eh?  Well, it’s all about giving my ADD things to do while I’m stranded on the couch so I think it’s pretty cool.   Anyways, I stumbled upon Amos Lee, who I might not have found any other way and I am falling in love with his music.  I’m posting this particular vid because I can really resonate with the interview (as I’m sure all artists/musicians can) and I often feel this way about water…

But how long is “after a while”?
 
I keep getting caught up in “why”
which I’ve finally realized is a stalling tactic for just doing…
but I look around in the dark
and I can’t see the red line
and I don’t know which way to go
or what to do
I can’t even find my voice to sing a sad song anymore….
and I find myself smiling wistfully when my little girl spins her stars…
 
“Try doing something different”, he says….
and I know he’s right
and I thought I was
but maybe doing this all by myself
just isn’t going to ever make a big enough difference
so that I can be
the lady who paints dreams and sing songs and who never runs out of hugs…
 
I want others to look at me and see their own light.
I want to show them their stars.
but I can’t do any of that from down here…
and I’m afraid that if I take a step in the dark I’ll just fall down deeper.
 
If I’m so smart
and I can see so much
why do I let myself live this way?

This is for all my star girls who sit outside wishing for their wings at night…

And anyone who’s ever fell in love with a blue-eyed boy.

#1. You’ve developed a crush on Chef Bobby Flay.

#2. You start pondering how people cooked before Ziploc bags were invented…

…and I’m always one to rush it.

But you just can’t rush it. 

Really, there’s no rushing.

I worked 7.5 hours today.  On top of the 6 hours I put in yesterday it was too much.  I can’t sleep because I’m in so much pain and the Vicodin isn’t even touching it.

I don’t know how I’m going to work tomorrow.  I don’t know how I’m not going to work tomorrow.  I should call in.  My doctor would probably be pissed if he found out that I’ve done what I’ve done. 

I don’t want to call in.  I don’t like telling people that I can’t do something.  I don’t like being limited.  I don’t like being weak.  But gosh, I don’t know how I’m going to get through another day…and this just can’t be good if it hurts this much (my pain-o-meter doesn’t always function properly so it’s seriously hard for me to tell the difference between ‘good’ pain and ‘bad’ pain).

Okay…so maybe I’m not weak.  Maybe I just had surgery a week ago and they busted up my ankle pretty good (all in the name of healing).  But it frustrates the hell out of me that I can’t take care of myself…and it’s even more frustrating that I’m dependant upon others.  I often wish (in more ways that one) that I was one of those completely self-sufficient people…but they’re probably not even real.  They’re probably just some urban mythical creature…heck, they might even ride unicorns.

Do you know that I always, always end up crying at the end of a Nanny 911 episode?  Always.

Do you know that I really desperately need a haircut and a fashion make over?  I can’t remember the last time I bought something that wasn’t on the sale rack.  Heck, I can’t remember the last time I ventured into a dressing room without a little someone in tow.  Men have NO IDEA how hard it is to make fashion decisions with a running commentary that sounds like this: “Mommy are you done yet?  That’s pretty.  And tomorrow when we go to see Nana… Mommy are you done yet? I need to go potty.  I’m hungry.  Can we go now? But I need a new toy Mommy.  Can I get a cookie?”

I was watching a new show on Bravo about this woman who takes over a hair salon for a week.  I can’t think of her name right now but she’s just fabulous!  I love her.  I think I want to be her when I grow up…

…there’s Fashion Week!

Which reminds us that Spring isn’t so very far away as it seems.

Oh, I’ll never wear Charlotte Ronson…but I have to say I love her line.

Photo via “New York Fashion“.

Trying, trying, trying to see the light….

And it’s never going to be you.
So just stop your wondering and wishing and hopeful breath holding.
Stop looking.
Stop reaching.
This is it.
This is what you got.
And if it ain’t enough…figure out a way to live with it.
‘Cause it’s all you’re going to get.

“It’s not all about you Anjolie…so get over yourself.”

“I know, I just thought…well…that maybe there was more…”

I feel myself churning inside again, my tigress pacing her cell, scraping her claws against the cold walls of the deep, deep well until it hurts so much that I have to throw her a bone…only it doesn’t satisfy her (it never does) and I start to cry, turning to liquid, perhaps in hopes that I can drown her if I can only make the water deep enough….

I’ve been feeling pretty tired lately.  That’s to be expected I’m sure…but I’ve also just been feeling tired for words. 

Today I spent a little time working.  Tomorrow I hope to be able to spend a little time actually in the office…we just have to see how the leg holds up.  Of course, I’d much rather be spending my “off the couch” time painting but not only does my boss need me (and we all love to be needed right?) I need the paycheck too.

I did do a little artwork today though.  Me and my girl played with some modeling clay that she got for her birthday.  I like it SO much better than Playdoh (though it’s all the same when you’re trying to scrape it off a jute rug).  I’m not much of a sculptor but it was fun.  I made the little fellow above.  I’ve been working on this flying pig idea you see…

My husband makes a mean homebrewed beer.  It’s so mean that he’s looking at making a business out of it (he’s already got a few vendors lined up).  In order to put out a bottle of beer one has to have a mascot though. So, while we’re waiting on paperwork (and there’s a lot of paperwork) I’m working on a logo for him.  We’re not exactly sure what the business’ name is going to be yet but he wants a flying pig.  I’ve got this great sketch (which I’m not ready to share yet) in the works but I really need to be able to sit up at my desk for a while to finish it out.  I’ve a few different ideas from taking it as a really clean graphics sorta look to a more antique finished design. 

The whole idea has really got me thinking though….

“When Pigs Fly”.

That’s sorta how I feel about my art.

I know, I’m probably just discouraged and statically depressed from laying around for the past week (with another good week or two or three ahead of me of the same) but I’m feeling overwhelmed.  I’ve put my art on hold for years now….getting married, having a baby, needing the income from my secular job….and my husband decides to make some homebrew and now is starting a business.  Why isn’t it that easy for me?  What stops me from persuing my dream?  Why do I let these other things (albeit pretty darn important “other things”) stop me?

Oh, and of course…there’s been a whole bunch of other thoughts going around in my head lately too (maybe the Vicodin does make one think too much).  I don’t feel like sharing any of it though…  I just don’t feel like talking about much of anything these days except for mommy stuff.  Isn’t she beautiful?

I’m not sure where she gets that impish look….

The whole family around the kitchen sink helping me wash my hair.

Amazing how much better being clean makes a person feel.

Now, back to our slumber party…

What I’m thinking about…

"she not only had a gift to offer the world, she had a gift to offer herself. maybe it didn't matter so much if the world held it. maybe what mattered was that she did."


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hunger

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