Avoid extremism!

Holy freakin' shit! Didn't know what I bought - listed for $250 on eBay.

When I meet new people who also love thrift, I often get asked the question, "What's the best store in town?" And, unfortunately, I can never offer a succinct response. "Well...it depends," I say, knowing that everyone thrifts for different reasons, and I can't possibly predict what's perfect for you. That being said, I'm beginning to recognize in myself a distaste for labels. What does best even mean? It certainly means something different to you than it does to me. I find that I make more friends when I allow every person I meet to have their own favorites, their own tastes.

Um, solid brass Eiffel Tower? So cool!

I'm an extremist by nature. I have to catch myself, watch my behavior, make sure I don't start living on green smoothies and doing yoga constantly. Because that's the goal, right? We're all supposed to be walking towards more perfect versions of ourselves? Meh, I don't agree. In fact, I disagree quite strongly.

I think we're all okay just the way we are, that of course over time, we will all grow and change, but that doesn't mean that we are worthless or not good enough as we already are.

Egyptian-ish choker collar necklace

So yeah, it usually takes me until after 3 o'clock to eat lunch, even though I'm hungry before that. I am oftentimes too stressed about something small to get a good night's sleep. I cried at a party yesterday for no reason and constantly say inappropriate things in polite company.

There are a hundred other things that make me imperfect, and one by one I work on them over time. I've been doing this my whole life, working on becoming the person that I want to be. I don't expect that person to look anything like anyone else or to save the world or be everything to one other person. I recognize that I am human, and flawed, and imperfect, and I'm quite okay with that. I'm okay with eating dinner with my small group when there is milk and bacon in the soup (omg. Best clam chowder of all time), not because I'm all awesome and hospitable, but because damn, even I have to let go of my rules sometimes. Of course, this is probably scarier than the other option, to create rules for everything so I can always feel safe. But it's that kind of safety that gets terrifically overrated, that people strive for so that nothing ever changes, so they feel no pain. But change is constant, and pain is a reality, and we're all in this together. Blah, blah, blah. Speech over.

I needed to give myself a pep talk, so I wrote it down - cheers y'all :)

Big work day :)

Large Vintage Boat Painting on Wood - One of Two

Occasionally, I don't get a lot done. Overall, I am incredibly productive, but this also includes time that is not always filled with activity. Today has already been an incredibly productive day, and it's not even two o'clock yet. I got through a ton of merchandise that has been waiting to be photographed and listed. I feel like a bad ass.

Vintage Hermes on the Lyre Needlepoint

My friend Van over at Thrift Core always talks about branding and doing what nobody else does. Every time she says something about this, I think about what I do differently from other eBay sellers. I have yet to figure it out. I want to be unique, but I also make money from selling things that aren't so unique, like Anthropologie and Lululemon clothing.

Maybe it's because I make so much of my purchases at thrift stores. My store reflects thrift culture in that it is a cheap(er) way to be unique, stand out, but also to wear designer clothing if you don't want to be different. I sell 7 For All Mankind jeans because I know there are teenage girls out there who want to be like everyone else.

Vintage Kitchen Decor - Kitschy Art

More than ever before, I want to make money at what I do, not gold shoes money, just gas and groceries money. I think I've finally come to a place where I think I can make more money doing what I absolutely love. Maybe I haven't figured out how to describe it per se, but I'm figuring out how to do it better every day.

Close friends of mine still don't really know what I do, and that's okay. I haven't talked a lot about it until recently. I think I was embarrassed to be someone with an eBay store. Even when I tried to be vulnerable, I felt like people shut me down with negative statements. I have had to learn to be okay with what I do and who I am regardless of what anyone else says. If I take this position, and actually talk about my life with people I'm close to, I have more positive interactions than negative interactions. I've learned who in my life likes to hear about my shop, and who doesn't really care. Now I have friends in real life who get excited with me when I have a big month.

So all y'all online friends, thank you for all of your support. Sometimes I need your kudos more than you know :)

Celebrate good times, come on!

Vintage Tiki Hula Girl Boob Mug from Harvey's

I've spent the morning researching PhD programs outside of California. Those non-resident fees are astronomical! Don't bother getting a PhD without getting a research or teaching assistant position, which will likely give you automatic resident status and give you a stipend or scholarship in return.

I don't want to be a "doctor" per se, but I continue to run into the reality that I think in a research/clinical way, and my work does not particularly allow me to pursue these things actively. I love to research and write. I don't necessarily want to do tests on people, or rats, or monkeys. I just want to write about the thoughts in my head. I think that's a reasonable goal for a doctoral program - Dear Dean of Admissions, I'm brilliant and I need to share it with the world. Please accept me. You won't regret it. You'll be happy you did.

I tried to do this as a seventeen-year-old applying to the honors program at my university. It didn't work out so well. It made sense to me, but I guess they diagnosed me with narcissism, and threw the essay away. I'm struggling a lot with self-doubt right now, and will be spending the next two weeks trying to work through that. I don't think I want to go back to school. I think I just want to go to Montana, and meet some lumberjack with a thick beard who will appreciate my intellect, and write poems about trees.

Actually, I'm less interested in men than I ever have been. It's pretty wonderful. I highly recommend it. I think I've dealt with some issues surrounding my feelings of inadequacy about being single. Or maybe I'm just pretending. Who knows?

Anyhoo, good to have you. Please come again :)

Faith is a fact.

I have a friend in another country who goes to church every day after work, sits in a silent old church in some old European country, and contemplates God or something especially cool. It seemed extreme to me when I first heard it, but I understand so much more now. We need ritual in our lives, sameness, things that do not change. This ritualizing of behaviors creates solidity in our souls, plants us into the ground, makes us feel safe in our own skin. Weird and definitely spiritual, but true. Take it or leave it.

In the wake of school shootings and marathon bombings, I hear stories of people reaching out in new and different ways. Today, while driving the freeway in between meetings across town from one another, I wondered if people are looking for God somehow in this reaching-out, and I thought about lighting a candle. I have another friend who lights candles regularly, also an awesome person. I so appreciate that she has created some kind of place for that. I don't think I have the room. Maybe I could put a shelf up or something.

Who knew I'd become more Catholic as I got older. It's strange and wonderful, and I'm glad my faith allows me to change over time, to go in and out of faith phases, just as I move in and out of food phases. I am still going to the panaderia every morning, and tonight I realized after my evening walk down the boulevard, that I could not go the rest of the day without eating ice cream.

So yeah, phases are good. Or okay, at least. Also ritual is good. I don't know if they are connected. Whatever. I won't figure everything out before I die, but I might figure out some things. Hopefully bread/ice cream phase won't put me in the grave sooner over later.

Taxes make me crazy.

I think that these vintage Italian gold pumps (totally '80s) are hot :)

I have been having so much anxiety about my taxes this year. I have claimed my earnings since opening my eBay store, but this is the first year that I have collected sales tax, and I registered as a business. Suddenly, I'm paying business/retail tax, which I still haven't figured out, and I can't figure out how the fuck to pay my sales tax, and it's starting to drive me crazy.

So this morning, I finally sat down to do my taxes, and get through my pile of personal and business paperwork, medical bills, etc. So much money going away, but I haven't bounced a check in a long time, so I'm feeling really good about myself. I'm paying way less for inventory, and my February sales were awesome (and February tends to be a slow month). Wow, second paragraph has helped me feel better already.

Peace out :)

Green Smoothies :)

Casualware "Avocado" Green Knives - A first for me :)

I believe that there are receptors in our body that crave green nutrients, fresh raw green nutrients. I also believe that eating all raw is crazy. I had a moment a month or so ago where I found a website that told me that eating all raw would cure my Type I Diabetes, and I was consumed by guilt that I wasn't willing to do it. But I got over it when I remembered how short life is, and I think that we all have to make decisions about our health that allow us to survive and thrive. Being limited by a diet limits one's entire life. I learned this when I was initially diagnosed with diabetes, and I ended up living on lettuce and protein bars. I was miserable, and sick, and I couldn't fit in anywhere.

It took me a long time to try every diet for diabetes, and choose one that worked for me. Veganism works for me. I've figured out how to make it work, take care of myself, and not go crazy. The latter is probably the most important (see earlier comment on lettuce).

Anyhoo, the most recent way I've figured out how to flood those "raw green" receptors (maybe they're in my gut somewhere) is to make green "smoothies". You throw some green stuff in a blender with some fruit and some sort of liquid (I use water), blend it up and drink it. I know it sounds gross, but there is something about it that makes me feel really good, and that makes me want to keep doing it. It helps me eat a lot of spinach too, which I know is good for me, especially since I don't eat meat.

Anyhoo, there are a ton of rules about how to do it, which I don't follow very closely, because too many rules makes me less likely to do the thing I'm trying to do. And seriously, if you go from no spinach to a glass of green every once in a while, that can only be good, right?

Mug share :)

Doesn't this remind you of truck-drivers?

I don't know why this mug thing has taken such a hold on me, but it has. It's my thing, and I like having a thing. Maybe when I have a bigger place, I'll have room for some sort of bizarre incongruous collection. I try not to get attached to things, though, so that keeps me from making collections of anything.

The mug only holds a little liquid - false bottom :)

Severe hoarding is a way to hold onto things that we have lost, a tangible way to hold on to the intangible. I've always been super reticent to hang onto things. I occasionally get rid of things, just to make sure I'm not holding on too tightly. That makes me sound somewhat paranoid, now that I think about it. Maybe that's not so healthy, the not wanting to hold onto things.

Somewhere out there is a matching mug that says "me"

I guess I try to walk a fine line between keeping and throwing away, but I don't think I'm very good at it. Just when I think I've figured it out, the pendulum swings in the opposite direction.

Anyhoo, let me know if you collect certain mugs, and I'll be on the lookout for you :)

Making better decisions :)

From Happiness is a Warm Puppy by Charles Schultz

At one of my favorite stores, there is a "25 cents" rack. I thought the rack was full of rejects, so I never spent much time going through it. Then yesterday, I had a wild hair, and ended up finding three pairs of pants in really good condition that are now in my shop. The cashier was proud of me. She's super friendly, so I've been doing my best to reciprocate. It's important to be kind to people in retail.

Actions like this have reduced my thrifting expenses drastically over the past month during my hard core "Debt Reduction Diet", which will last as long as it needs to (until my car is paid for and my credit card balance is $0). It means I don't buy everything I want to buy for my shop, and it means that I buy weird things that are cheap because no one has been able to identify them. I have the time to do the research. I have more time than money, and I need to use my resources in effective ways. That's my rationale. I sold a lot of stuff in January, and I plan to continue stocking my store like a mofo in February.

In other news, I'm having some perspective changes in my life on relationships, and on politics. I think I'm becoming more and more of a libertarian, a libertarian who believes in socialized medicine. It's a complicated business, politics. It involves the delicate dance between how we see ourselves, and how we see other people. I think this year, one of my main goals in life will be to empower others to change their own lives. I am working on allowing people to find their own ways instead of telling them how to do what I think is best. Teach a man to fish...

Hug a veteran :)

A Charles Schultz ode to veterans on Armistice Day (11/11)

There was a purple station wagon in the parking lot when I pulled up to one of my favorite thrift stores this afternoon. It was dotted with silver-toned ephemera, lots of crosses. I got to meet the owner at the cash register, and I'm really glad I did. Turns out he was a POW in Vietnam, and the purple on the car matched the purple heart license plate. He was also covered in silver-toned ephemera, with a Western-style outfit and pristine cowboy boots. He said that he never sleeps, so he makes jewelry and decorates his car. It's his thing. I assume it keeps him alive.

This article reports that one US veteran suicides approximately every hour (average of 22 a day, higher than previous calculations). 'Purple Car Man' reminded me of how important it is for people to have something that they find joy in, that keeps them busy, helps them to find meaning, etc. Of course it's never that simple, but it's a big thing. It keeps blood flowing in important areas of the brain, encourages human contact, maybe even increases the input of sunshine.

I can imagine that when people come home from war, minor hobby-ish things seem incidental, perhaps even silly and a waste of time. But unfortunately, this way of thinking keeps the trauma of war close at all times, increasing paranoia, and disconnectedness.

Thought of the day: Hug a veteran :)

Tennis balls :)

C'est vrai, mes amis, c'est vrai.

Tonight, the stars aligned and I remembered something my yoga studio does, and I did it at home. We often bring tennis balls along with our blankets, blocks, etc. and use them in class as weird pain-providing devices of torture wherein we place them under particular parts of the body (tight parts), and lie on top of the ball, allowing the full weight of our bodies to press down on the ball, creating a pressure to break up the tension. It can be quite painful, not in a bad way, but in a "this-part-of-my-body-has-never-felt-this-much-pressure" sort of way.

I went into the garage, knowing deep down that I'd seen a tennis ball somewhere. And alas! I found it! And I laid on top of it, with the ball beside my shoulder blades, and I swear to you, I can't remember the time my body felt so relaxed and just good.

Anyhow, you should try it. Peer pressure. Do it. Do it now. Or tomorrow. Whatever.

Thrift Share Monday :)

These vintage posters are from The Nut Tree in Vacaville, California. I found them in a huge old Nabisco warehouse that has been turned into a storage facility/vintage stash open three days a week for crazies like me to dig through and find treasures like these. The owner was impressed with me that I had found them. The bottom one is in better shape than the top one. I hope someone finds them who can really appreciate them.

When I was in my early twenties, I went to Healdsburg for a weekend trip with some friends, and my friend and I went running on Saturday morning to enjoy the hills and the sunshine. I think we ended up back at the hotel like two-and-a-half hours later, after we'd taken the long way around, wanting to explore every new hill we saw. We flatland folk get really excited in the hills.

Running in hills is the the best way to increase one's cardiovascular capacity. My best running happened when I was training up in the foothills, back when I was still trying to be a badass. This is no longer the case, and I'm very content with that. I was never meant to be an endurance athlete.

Anyhoo, I've never been thrifting in these parts, and I'd love to check it out someday. Maybe next summer :)

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

The art of lounging :)

Bff got me a new lounging sweater for Christmas. She knows how I love to "lounge". I don't think I ever really let anyone know my secret "I live in my bed" until her. It's nice to be known.

I'm working on my taxes (I know - I'm proud of myself too!) and it's a pain in the ass, as I expected, but much more doable than I previously expected when I had an overwhelming rush of impossibility a week ago just thinking about it. I have a printer. I printed bank statements. Now I'm highlighting relevant transactions. Later I will add them up and combine them with my online Outright stuff from eBay, which is awesome and helps me do the impossible, like keep track of sales tax and expenses and income, and on and on...ad infinitum.

My vacation has truly helped my brain get to a better place. I'm compartmentalizing in healthy ways, i.e. not thinking about things that don't need to be thought about in a given moment. I just ate an orange off the orange tree in the backyard, evidencing my ability to feed myself, and I remembered to put extra blankets on the bed (finally), so that I won't freeze to death in my sleep.

All is well :)

'angsty' is a fun word :)

These surprisingly sold in a few days from my Etsy shop, which rarely happens.

The last few days have been amazing. Between reading, angsty puzzle-doing, and some painting, I've reached a really good place. I've figured out some things about my life, like long-term, super important kinds of things, and those things make me feel more at peace with who I am, blah blah blah.

I've decided that doing puzzles will be my new angsty project, instead of angsty poem-writing, since that pile just keeps getting bigger and only brings me more of the aforementioned angst and longing, etc. So now I'm going to do less meaningful things with my time, less emotional things, like puzzles, and reality television, and responding to angry emails via eBay. I'll leave you with this amazement that awaited me this morning in my inbox, followed immediately (and happily) by my response.

Weird stranger: Hi, Just a suggestion! THIS PICTURE ON THE COFFEE MUG IS NOT OF A TURKISH CHARACTER, BUT GREEK!!! A little common knowledge of national costumes would reveal this fact!

Me: Hi. Just a suggestion. WRITING IN ALL CAPS MEANS YELLING. YELLING AT SOMEONE YOU DON'T KNOW IS RUDE. A little common knowledge would reveal this fact!

I did miss some exclamation points. Oops.

Look! It's a castle!

Vintage Fisher Price castle - 1970s - reminds me of toys at Grandma's house :)

So maybe it's the coming month of fewer hours at work, but I've been bulking up on inventory like a fun thrift store hobbyist. I'm actually quite content right now, listening to country, drinking some cafe au lait, and trying on vintage eyeglasses while I list them, and it's been quite a long time since I haven't begrudgingly listed on my off days. Less stress overall = more enjoyment in the little things I suppose.

I went in and got a CT scan yesterday. As time passes, I am becoming more and more angry about how all of this hullabaloo has gone down. One person that saw the incident said I might have had a small seizure, or I could have fainted and fallen down. Both are equally likely. But I defaulted, thinking it wouldn't matter, and shouldn't I call my diabetes doctor just to let them know? But thus began a series of events that cannot be undone, and now my driver's license is in jeopardy and I'm getting all of these tests run that cost a lot of money, and scare me a little.

Everyone who knows me, knows I'm high strung, intense, sometimes over-the-top. But I'm also very aware of it, and I suppose that makes me not-so-scary. Yeah, I panic, I freak out, but I also am the person you want to call in a genuine crisis, because while I freak out about the stupidest things, I do not freak out when shit is on the line. I am calm and cool, and focused. Yeah, it's weird, but it's me, and I'm okay with that.

I'm really missing the dogs today, and I wish they were sitting next to me.

Peace out :)

Upside down.

I got a few Vera scarves that don't quite scream "Vera!" This is one of them.

this love has made me
undone, loose from my bones
like a yogi, upside down

I've been inspired by Heidi to put some poems up on the blog. But poems are so raw, so exposed. I feel naked in all of my poems. I guess that's the point, in the end. That's why it's art. But it's difficult. I'll say that much. The funny thing is, people see me as open and honest. And I suppose I am. But there's a whole lot more to me than I put forward. That's why I can afford to be so open. What seems open to you is not full-on exposure to me. This allows me to protect myself, all of the vulnerable parts.

Anyhow, in the interest of being a writer, I think I'll try to find some poems that I feel okay about posting. Obviously it will take me a while, since it took me ages to post this one, but I strive for growth, so...peace out.

Regroup, keep movin'...*

Vintage I. Magnin Pottery - Pretty neat, huh?

I am currently sitting in a whole house, looking onto a rain-spattered patio, two needy poodles by my side, French Toast and coffee in my belly, and listening to talk radio, ensuring that my extreme liberalism is mediated a bit by the other side.

What is it about me and the fall that makes me such a mess? What is it about me that makes me such a mess? At this time last year, I was working through my final year of grad school, and it felt like agony. It felt neverending, like every day was scheduled to the minute, and I had no room to move. This is different. This is emotional exhaustion, and I'm going to sit in this chair until I figure out what to do about it.

How did this happen? Well, it was a confluence of events, really: I haven't been doing so well on reaching my goal of no more freak-outs and no more chasing men (I know - I'm sorry), and I'm dirt poor and constantly worrying about money and blaming myself for my own choice to work in a field that will never help me leave the garage, and I'm in a weird spot where my support system has changed pretty drastically and I'm still trying to restructure and rebuild.

And then there is the reality of being a grown-up, that relationships are difficult, work is everyday, and sometimes low blood sugar becomes life threatening. Sometimes I want to scream at my friends who don't see that the answers are right in front of them, but right now I'm on the other side, unsure that there are any answers or solutions to what are really pretty small problems that I have allowed to overwhelm me.

I don't believe in "God's lessons" or that somehow I'm in a complicated play where in the end, I will be wiser because everything has worked out perfectly for the best. I believe in choice, and human nature, and this morning I am really, really stuck.

I'm taking some time off from life, gonna regroup, try to make sense of it all. Peace out :)

*The title is part of a lyric from a math album I sang on in elementary school. The full lyric goes, Regroup, keep movin', don't let the numbers get you down. Classic.

All is not lost, my dear

Oh man, I've been feeling down for a few days. I don't want to call myself a "downer" however, for fear this name-calling would only plunge me back into ceiling-staring-land (or as it was last night, star-staring-land). And I don't want to be hard on myself, since the temperature plunged overnight, the holidays are fast approaching (oh dear lord), and the director of the CIA is embroiled in scandal. Then there's Hurricane Sandy, legalization of being a pothead in Colorado, and the neverending depression of Obamacare. Need I say more? How can a simple girl like me go on living in all of this chaos?

But then, a dimly flickering light in the darkness: lunch at the Armenian place across the street, filled with fresh pita, tzatziki, and the most wonderful falafel I've had in a long time. Suddenly, the world was right again, my blood sugar normalized, and my days-long freak-out ended.

Peace out mofos :)

Yeah right you're moving to Canada.

I've been keepin' this in the bull pen for today :)

People love to threaten to move out of the country if the candidate of their choice doesn't win the presidential election. Whatever. Seriously? Your life is that tenuous? Your life is so tied to your external environment that you wouldn't survive with a [insert opposing party here] president in the White House?

Well, here's a hopeful note from someone who's lived with less than she's wanted for a fair bit of time. Get over yourself. The world is not going to end tomorrow if you don't get your way (nor will mine - I have feelings too). Take some time today to remind yourself of all of the things that you already have, that comfort you in the bad times, and remind you of how beautiful life is in all of the other times. And maybe eat a cookie.

I'll be drinking beer tonight watching the results, maybe probably disenchanted, and maybe eating some sweet potato fries, because those are sounding pretty good right now.

Peace out mofos. See you on the flip side :)

I'm gonna eat some pizza now.

Vintage Barbie poster - hellz yeah!

When I was young, and something didn't go my way, I immediately felt like all was lost and nothing would ever get better. I would bask in my misery and cry myself to sleep. And that was okay.

But now, I don't have the emotional room to give to freak-outs the way I used to. Maybe I've trained myself to get through all the feelings speedily, or maybe I'm more patient and loving, which is just doubtful (I'm an imperfect person, after all). Maybe I'm well-medicated. Maybe when I prayed for ECT, it actually happened and I have no memory of it. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Sometimes it takes what feels like forever to get what I want. I want to sell the Rabbit, and yet it sits in my driveway, unsold, for over three months. I want my spine to be straighter, but it takes years of daily work to make it so. And finally, I want a proper immune system, but that's not gonna happen, like ever.

Yeah, so now the making of the pizza, but with marinara sauce, because I wasn't paying attention at the grocery store, and I'm just going with it :)

Macaroni & Cheese

I'm thinking about getting myself a personal masseuse :)

So I'm sitting here drinking wine. I can't remember the last time I bought alcohol with the intent to actually drink it, but here I am, quite happy.

Last year, at the end of the day, it was sometimes hard to go to yoga (maybe it'll get more difficult when dumb daylight savings happens) after work, but I'm starting to need it to get through the day with enough energy to do another one tomorrow. I've got to hand it to the annoying adults in my life; I really didn't know what was coming. Being whole and present all the time is awesome, but it also means that I have to get up every morning and go to work. I have to show up every day, the same way I did the day before. It can get old after a while, the sameness of it.

My childhood made me very comfortable with chaos, with freaking out about little things. But now, there is no room to flip out about the little things. I have to spare my energy for the important things, the people in need, and my own health. So when I had health insurance troubles for the umpteenth time this afternoon, I didn't have room to lose it. I had to keep moving forward, keep going to meetings, keep doing my job, keep being constant and stable.

But after all of that, I went to yoga, and admitted to everyone that yes, I was feeling "poo poo" about everything. Then I made macaroni and cheese (I still haven't stopped being in love with Daiya), wrote a poem, drank some wine, and now I'm done.

Peace out.