Oh the heat :(

I just found out that there's a new, super awesome, biannual flea market in my area, and they're having the first event in less than a month. First thought? Omg. Omg. Omg. I have to do it! Second thought? Oh shit. I can't. For several minutes, these two thoughts fought, but in the end, the second one has won out.

My body shuts down in 100 degree heat. And coincidentally, the past few days have been hellacious. So I'm not feeling very hopeful about the coming summer. I'm concerned that I'm reaching some kind of physical brick wall in relation to my ability to live in a super hot place. It frightens me to think that my body cannot live in the place where I live. Or maybe I'm overreacting, and the past few days have just been a strange response to a strange May heat-wave.

We'll see. But I don't think the flea market is going to happen. The rummage sale was possible because it wasn't hot. Also, there's a big three digit fee to have a booth, and I'm not rollin' in cash. Ok, I'll try to be more positive from here on out.

Thrift Share Monday :)

Vintage health, fitness, and nutrition book for teens

I went out of town today, forty-five minutes in fact, and even though I went to a town far from home, I saw thrift store employees I know. How funny is that? They were of course surprised to see me as well, and we shared some awkward moments.

A little while later, I traveled downtown to the nicer "boutiquey" thrift store, which is always very clean and high priced. I thought I might find some work clothes. They were having a "25% off" sale on some items, and a woman came to the counter to ask the volunteers how much she would pay for an item that was $10. It took them five minutes, they couldn't figure it out, and gave up. I kid you not. I ended up explaining it to them, and they replied, "Oh, math was my worst subject." I wanted to claw my own eyes out.

Vintage book for kids about the human body - fun times :)

I ended up bringing six items into the dressing room, four tops and two dresses. Everything looked huge and made me look like a weird angular mannequin. The last thing I tried on was a vintage wool Pendleton shift. It made me look like a bad Mad Men knock-off. I know that everyone feels this way sometimes, but I'm having a hard time with my body right now, and feeling freakish.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

All the water is pouring out.

What can I say? Sweat is pouring down my face, and I don't know if I can hydrate fast enough to replenish it. It reminds me of the jungle, so I should probably be paying more attention to my water intake than I am, or I may begin taking on water and looking swollen (not pretty, friends).

In Brazil, they drink hot drinks in an effort to stay cool. No matter how hard I try, I can't get on board that train. Hot just makes me more hot. I am currently sitting with a hot cup of coffee and becoming very aware of my American need for ice.

I was thinking about offering up an online dating update today, but my computer is on the fritz and I'm going to the Apple store in the mall (I know! Me at the mall!) to see if they can help me, and I need to leave right now.

Peace out :)

What I want :)

To know me is to know I love cake :)

So in an effort to evidence my desire to want more, here is what I've come up with. While I understand that these things may not all occur, I still want them to. So this is what I wrote the day I decided to start wanting things.

I want a house, with a kitchen, a kitchen window and counter space
I want to write a book, a whole book, and then another, and then another
I want sons who climb trees and get into trouble - I don't want a television
I want to learn Spanish
I want to go to Slovenia - I want to live in Slovenia, learn the language, write my book
I want to tell my mother how she hurt me, and let her know that I forgive her
I want to hike the John Muir trail
I want to do a headstand and the splits
I want to take a Northern California thrifting tour
I want to see Lori McKenna with Amy for my birthday
I want to go to the annual San Francisco library book sale
I want to visit my friends in Canada, and in Kansas, and in Switzerland
I want to go to an art conference in New Mexico
I want to go to Vista Academy to see my tile

Another day, I will explain all of these, but not today. Peace out.

Want is a terrible thing.

I wasn't much of a Barbie girl...my poor mother laments this

“[S]he believed that the Buddhists were right – that if you want, you will suffer; if you love, you will grieve.”

-Anne Lamott, Crooked Little Heart

Last week, in between watching the Olympics, reading Jane Austen, and hangin' with the dogs, I thought about some stuff. I generally try not to think too much, since I'm neurotic and thinking too much all the time anyway, but sometimes it's necessary to sit in silence and work to untangle some things in your brain. I probably have done a lot of thinking this summer, since I had no time to think the previous year. Perhaps the thoughts just backed up in my brain, and had to be processed one by one, like items on a conveyer belt coming out my ears.

When I was a kid, I didn't want things. I just didn't. I learned at an early age that wanting was futile, that it only brought pain, and that it was just easier to avoid it entirely. But when things started to happen that were outside of my control - I fell in love, and didn't know what to do about it - I was faced with the question, "How does a person want and not want, love and avoid, all at the same time?" After all those years of not-wanting, the feeling of want became unbearable, so uncomfortable, and I got stuck between the two, not being able to choose either one.

So I've decided to want things, and unfortunately (oh boy), wanting means suffering. Wanting inevitably means not having, not getting. And at some point, I might get the things that I want, the big things, or maybe I'll get different things, things that are better for me than the things I want (thank you, Mick Jagger). But I'm tired of believing that I don't deserve the things that other people have, that for whatever reason I deserve less because I am less.

Oh geez, sometimes I sound like a makeup commercial.

Menstruation! Periods!

Large cork placemats from Pimpernel - Made in England

So I personally hate the clutter of ads on blogs, and I don't see my blog as a marketing ploy, so I haven't signed up for any monetizing opportunities...until now. Today I signed up to be an affiliate on a menstrual cup website, and I've placed a friendly button on the right, under "My campaign to save the planet".

A couple months ago, I bought a cup in hopes that it would work for me, and allow me to radically decrease my personal waste. I get pretty offended by implicit suggestions that we as women should be scared or ashamed of our business, that we need someone else to take care of it for us. I've heard fear and disgust from so many people - it makes me sad :( There's nothing wrong with you, and there's nothing wrong with your body. Yeah, maybe I'll have a daughter someday and give her the "miracle of life" spiel, and then we'll all laugh at what a crazy hippie I am.

I am also VERY offended by those campaigns that tell people to buy sanitary napkins for women in Africa so they can go to school. When we place more importance on money than we do on human beings, we dehumanize people, and ourselves, in the process. I don't need to make any money off of the affiliate program. I just want to publicly support personal behavioral shifts that radically defy the status quo. Is that such a big thing to ask? I like to tell people things that they didn't know before. I like to be helpful.

Note: If anyone can affirmatively ding me for using that vintage ad as a button, let me know, and I'll take it down. Also, full disclosure, my deal is that if someone buys something through my page, then I get 15% of profits from the sale. If you think I should use the money for a particular cause, let me know in the comments :)

"The Grape Harvest"

Based on a mosaic of a Millard Sheets piece in Southern California

After a party last night, I'm in a weird place in my head. I spent some time this afternoon wrapped up in my hammock. My friend helped me put it up this morning. Everything is better with my hammock up in a tree. How have I gone five years without it?

I'm having this sudden insecurity brought on by the online dating thing. Suddenly it matters what I say and what I do, and how others perceive me. It's why I'm so bad at interviews, but great at my job. There's something inside me that just shuts down when I know I'm being watched and judged. I wish there were a cure, but there isn't. It's a big part of who I am, and a large reason I put forward a strong sense of self most of the time. I'm afraid of being watched and being found wanting.

So I recycle things that have been discarded by their previous owners. In doing that, I challenge the world to tell me that it's trash. I don't believe it's trash, so how can you? I approach myself in the same way. I'm a bad ass. I dare you to say otherwise. Most of the time, I'm okay. But it's also why I haven't interviewed in over a year. It's my ultimate fear so I find every way I can to avoid it. But now I'm in a place (back to dating again) where I don't want to be avoidant. I want to put myself out there. But the fear is palpable, and in some ways, paralyzing.

I'm going to have a talk with myself right now, see if we can get this all sorted out.

Peace out.

My heart is in the jungle.

 

For a moment today, I had an intense rush of longing for the jungle. I longed for simplicity, and candles, and the river. I saw my own bare feet, and the emptiness of the day. I saw myself alone, and it was lovely. To think of it makes my heart ache. To think more makes me want to cry. I left my heart in the jungle, but I really don't know why.

Who wants to model for me?

This is how I feel about my apartment right now. There's no room for me.

There's a thrift tore in town that is explicitly Christian. All of the workers have to say that they are "blessed" when greeted. It's frightening in a way. The only way that I feel cared for in the environment is when the workers stare at me because they haven't seen a woman in a while, and then say "hello" a few too many times. Anyhow, I saw like at least a dozen one-piece pantsuits there today. For some reason, I see them all the time, and I'm really scared to buy them. I don't think that I'd be able to sell them, and then I'd feel dumb. How weird is that? I buy dumb things all the time!

I have tried to stay away from clothing as much as possible because I am not a model, and I have no desire to become one. I also only have half of a body form, so it isn't much help with large pieces. For example, I have a vintage wedding dress sitting in a basket somewhere that I haven't listed because I haven't figured out how to make it look good (Note: It doesn't exactly fit me. I am too large in one particular region). I've considered getting a model, but what would I pay them, and how would I ask, and could I take good enough photos to make it worth the process?

I'm gonna go sleep on it.

My un-straight spine

I kinda wish I had a job where I could be a little more flashy. In some ways, I feel like the way I might normally dress, even nicely, might draw too much attention to me, and my work is not about me.

When I get dressed, I don't think about how I want to look, or what I feel like wearing that day. I just pull out my slacks, and pick a shell and sweater that I haven't worn together lately. Then I try to make my face look like I haven't slept in hay, cover up my white lips, add some earrings, and it's an outfit. My medical ID bracelet is the only other "jewelry" I have. I believe I've previously disclosed my inability to wear necklaces. Maybe in another year or so, I'll try a necklace one day, when my neck is all the way straight.

I have a lot of tension in my neck and shoulders. This is something that I have dealt with for a long time, but is only becoming worse over time. Yoga helps, but it doesn't fix it. The best thing that I have found is getting adjusted by a chiropractor, and not little tweaking-major wrenching.

Maybe I am unique in this way, maybe not, but my spine is not as it should be. Working with a chiropractor has begun a reversal process (reversing what, I don't exactly know). The process isn't complete, but it is a whole lot better than it ever has been in my adult life. Thank you awesome chiropractor-you've helped me stand truly straight, for maybe the first time in my life :)

Sometimes you're not enough

I just turned in a course reading log; it was terrible and I am ashamed of it.

The log was just supposed to be an honest representation of what was actually read. So I was honest, and it wasn't pretty. This class is at the bottom of my priority list, not because it isn't important, but because it isn't as important as my physical health, my emotional health, the quality of my work, paying my bills, making sure I have all of my medication, making sure I have enough food to eat, getting sufficient exercise, or getting sufficient rest and sleep.

Honestly, this semester, the quality of my school work has plummeted, and at the same time, I have become more dedicated to its completion. Let me explain: When I had the time to do my work, the reasonable daylight time, I did it, and I did it well. Now, I do not have that time. What I do have are middle-of-the-night insomnia, Saturday evenings after 9pm, and Sunday afternoons when I should be resting. This is when I do my schoolwork. So no, I am not a slacker. I am poor and I have an autoimmune disease. The things I do to manage those two tiny pieces of my life are all-consuming, in addition to my work, which takes up most of my time, and gives me no money, whatsoever.

So yeah, I turned in an assignment that I am ashamed of. I am ashamed that I am imperfect. I am ashamed that I am limited. But those things are true for everyone; they are true for you. We are human, and that's all we have. We can't be everything to everyone, or do everything for everyone. We will disappoint people we love, and we will disappoint people we do not love.

I have harbored anxiety about this assignment, not because I cared about the assignment so much as cared about what the teacher would think of my less-than-perfect performance. So today, instead of spending what should be my day of rest on something inherently non-restful, I chose to let go of the shame.

Garbage in, garbage out

 

In yoga tonight, I had thoughts running through my mind throughout the class. That's rare. Usually, I am able to get rid of everything very quickly and focus on how much pain I'm in. Maybe I am feeling stronger, so am therefore able to let my mind wander, but it got me to thinking. How am I getting rid of the negativity in my life? How am I dealing with the garbage that comes in? Am I doing anything?

I am a firm believer that the brain and body carry everything with them. Your brain remembers everything that has happened to you. It is stored in there somewhere, and someday something that you've never remembered before from 3rd grade will pop up suddenly because something in your environment triggered that particular neurotransmitter to fire (or get fired on?).

So that's all well and good when you work at Clouds-R-Us, where everyone is friendly and happy and no one has an unkind word for anyone else, and nothing bad ever happens to anyone. But for the rest of us who have constant good and bad flowing into our lives, I think it's important to stop and think every once in a while, "How much good am I putting into my life? Is there any way that I can replace some of the bad with some good? Is watching Law and Order a good thing or a bad thing for my overall health and well-being?"

Yoga is part of that for me. Yoga gives me a great deal of good and at the same time reminds me to breathe out the bad, and to let go of the things I try so hard to hold on to. Yoga isn't for everyone, but it is a symbol of what each of us needs in our lives-a time and place, set aside, for the purpose of cleansing and renewal.

I hope you find this space for yourself somehow, and if not, I hope you start to look for it.

9. Pictures of beautiful tattoos

I have been thinking about getting a tattoo since I was fourteen. My best friend and I would sit in the back of history class and draw pictures of what we'd get. At the end of four years of high school, I was firm in my decision, that the only tattoo I'd ever get would be the Olympic rings (obviously because I'd be in the Olympics-duh). Well, my Olympic aspirations are far and done, unless I pull a Dara Torres in a decade or so. But seriously, swimming is a far-gone part of my life; I don't even think of myself as an "athlete" anymore. I believe I've mentioned this before.

Of course I can still appreciate beautiful tattoos though.

1. Quotes are always lovely; the script has to flow just right though
2. A heart on the wrist, a heart on the upper back; anywhere works (Extras! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
3. Finally, trees are always nice; I saw a tree meditating on the calf once-it was nice. It's difficult to get a tree that doesn't completely overwhelm the rest of the body. I like them to be small. I am a firm believer that the body is already a work of art; to add to it is to presume that one knows better than God, that there need to be additions. I am a total prude though. Get all the tattoos you want-but no face tattoos! I love your face.

Ack! I always rethink my decision not to get one, but I think sometimes it's more fun to dream...