Whiskey :)

Vintage Milk Glass "Bar" Light Globe

I'm a minimalist in a lot of ways. I buy my clothes second hand. I live in a garage. I don't own a smart phone (I know, I'm practically Amish, right?). I also don't drink, or at least, I haven't in a very long time. But in the past year or so, ever since I graduated, I've imbibed more than usual, and now I can say that I probably drink a few times a month, three tops.

I'm pretty picky - I want something hard. One day, I just decided, I want whiskey. I don't know where this came from. I mean, I'm not an expert or anything. Last week, I was at a bar, and I ordered a glass of whiskey. Bartender asks what kind. I say, "whatever". This was an insufficient response. So something in my soul/body/mind wants whiskey, but has no idea what whiskey is. How strange is that?

Anyhow, I now lump this newfound love of simple drinking to the other pile of simple things I do, not because I'm special, but because I'm easily overwhelmed. And with summer coming, and only my shop to sustain me, I'm becoming more overwhelmed. But I'm going to be okay, not because life isn't difficult, or everything will turn out well, but because I myself am okay. I myself am well. And I myself can handle whatever difficulty comes my way. And whiskey is not a help or aid for that. It's like a fun amusement along the way :)

Oh Canada.

I love finding unique little vintage oil paintings - and sharing them :)

I want to go to Canada. Last year, I wanted to go to Bolivia, or maybe that was the year before. I love traveling. Not the sightseeing though. I like to go far away and stay in one spot. Maybe I'll walk around a lot, but I'm not a schedule-the-whole-trip kind of girl. I get so tired. Mostly, I just want to see people that I love, and when they live in another country, I want to go to that other country to see them. Also, I like to eat. So yeah, you can feed me if I visit. I won't argue.

I haven't been shopping a ton lately. I mean, in comparison to other times, I feel pretty light right now, even though my shop is full. Maybe I'm hitting some sort of thrifting stride. Or maybe I'm hitting a life stride. I dunno.

My real job ends for a while in several weeks, and then I'll have the summer to thrift and lounge by imaginary pools, and probably eat a lot of frozen yogurt. Last night, I finally traveled to a far away place to find the one-and-only place in town that has soy fro-yo. The flavor yesterday was peanut butter, so I had that with chocolate cookie crumbles on top and watched men with ZZ Top beards walk by looking rugged and manly.

That's it. It's Saturday, and I'm exhausted.

Boo. I'm unwell.

Ovenex-style Cake Mold - Starburst Pattern

I really wanted to go out of town today to hit up some stores I don't get to regularly. But I was in the office for thirty minutes when I realized that my energy was very low. I've been feeling lethargic the last few days, with a sore throat, but I haven't actually tried to do anything. So I was sadly disappointed when I realized that there would be no awesome thrifting today in a town far away.

I'm a big fan of listening to your body and giving it what it needs. Sometimes this means not doing something that you really "should" be doing, doing less when you want to do more. But as I always say to myself, "Do you want to be like the celebrities in the hospital for 'exhaustion'?" I even recently spoke with someone who had gotten into such a state that she had to be hospitalized because she'd been running herself ragged.

Anyhoo, it's cold and flu season. Prevention, prevention, prevention!!! That's my motto :)

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.

Delusion.

Pewter and Turquoise - pewter is a funny word.

I'm attempting to sort out some things in my brain at the moment. I use the word attempting loosely. I've been doing it for a couple days, but mostly I'm left just staring at the ceiling, in a daze. I think I've written some poems, and I'll probably write some more, but I don't know if that's even sufficient.

I like to have control. It's a safe feeling. It's a delusional feeling, but safe all the same. But these past two months have been completely out of my control, bringing things into my life that seriously seemed previously unthinkable and impossible. When I was in school, there was a rhythm. Predictable things happened. I worked all the time, and I was exhausted most of the time, and my brain was tired with all of the neurotransmitters being connected. But in the midst of exhaustion was a sense of certainty, that there was a goal at the end of every road, even an ultimate goal. But now there is no ultimate goal, just lots of learning new things and falling down, and standing back up and continuing on. There are no grades, no end to projects, no certainty about the future (again, delusional thinking).

I wonder how much most people fear stability, the quiet of the present moment, the constant unknown and lack of control. My insides get twisted up, and have to be untwisted, and that takes a little while, and a lot of staring at the ceiling.

Peace out :)

The full moon :)

Aren't these pictures funny and weird?

Tonight, after yoga, I stood by the bread factory in my short shorts, yoga mat in hand, watching the train go by under a full moon, and cried. And the train kept going, and going, and I knew I needed it to pass before I could cross the tracks to go home anyway, so I just stood there and got out as much as I could.

I'm okay. I can be big and loud sometimes, and that includes being sad, but I'm okay. People always think that I'm worse off than I am. The funny thing is, when it was really bad, several years ago, very few people saw me in my total life-stops-completely grief. Now I just cry and watch the train, then go home and make dinner, and do it all again tomorrow. I'm really doing well, and sometimes I have long, difficult days, but that doesn't change how I feel on the inside about myself.

Anyhow, having a job where you help people makes you have to constantly remind yourself that you are powerless to change other people. Sometimes I just have to say that to myself (I'm always talking to myself), and the fog lifts, my furrowed brows lift, and the world is right again.

"This is my confession..."

Well, just like Usher said in that far-off, how-does-time-go-by-so-fast, year of 2004, this is my confession: I hate debt. I hate it so much. I was raised by a freakin' refugee, people. No wonder I'm so neurotic about money.

I almost didn't finish graduate school because I realized how much it was going to cost me. It felt wrong. It felt unethical. But I got a good talking-to by my parents, and recognized that money is money, and an education is priceless, and my earning potential, blah, blah, blah. I bought into it. And now I have a masters degree and I still live in a garage. Now I could probably live in a larger garage if I weren't working so hard to pay off my debt, but I really don't make that much money. I am, after all, working two jobs.

I'm figuring that it's going to take me a good five years to get out of this hole, and those are five impoverished years. Let's remember that I don't even eat meat. Frugal is my middle name. Oh the injustice of it all! But I digress. I had a freak-out today (this was earlier; obviously now I can form whole sentences), wherein I screamed at the heavens in the presence of a safe person, that life isn't fair, and sugar daddies, and selling my soul, and why-can't-the-world-not-suck-so-much. It's occasionally difficult to accept the lot of a sacrificial person, a supposedly voluntary sacrificial person. I mean, even the Apostle Paul had plenty! If or when that ever happens to me, I won't know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, I will continue to be my thrifty self, shop at discard food places (shut up haters), and recycle like nobody's business.

Peace out.

Breathe in...breathe out...

All 26 poses in the Bikram series :)

Oh man. I've really been struggling the past couple days. I've become overwhelmed by the amount of pain and suffering in the world, the constant horror stories I'm privy to. I know I can't save anyone. I know it's not my job to fix anyone else's problems. But it weighs on my soul in a way that feels like I can't breathe, and it almost feels better not to breathe, but then I get really really tired and I want to lie down and die.

This feeling makes sense to me because of Bikram. I've noticed that it often feels better in some poses to stop breathing, because breathing necessitates moving, and makes me more likely to fall down. But one has to breathe in order to get through the whole series. You might be able to get through a pose or two without breathing, but then you're too wiped out, and have to sit down. I get dizzy when I stop breathing. So I have to consciously breathe, six counts in, six counts out. Sometimes it hurts to breathe. I don't know why. But you have to breathe.

So breathing feels like dying, but won't actually kill you, and not breathing feels better, but might kill you. Quite the paradox, no? Somehow there is a psychological profundity in there, but I can't find it. Whatever it is, it isn't a pleasant thought.

Image retrieved at: http://theguiltlesslife.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/bikram.jpg

B I K R A M

Revue Eyeglass frames, from France!

My bff has become completely and totally a Bikram convert. She talks about it all the time. I've been hearing about it for three straight weeks. And since I'm already a wannabe yogi, I figured it was worth my time to give the whole thing a shot. I knew what I was getting into. It would be hot. I needed to be still. I needed to be prepared to sweat a lot without wiping it away, etc, etc. So I waited until I was actually up to the challenge, and went to the studio yesterday afternoon.

It felt like I walked into an oven. It felt oppressive without moving. I've lived in hot, humid places. I've exercised in said places. But I was not prepared for the heat of that room. It was unlike anything I have ever felt, save the moment I stepped off the plane into the equatorial heat of West Brazil six short years ago. But I was committed, and I didn't doubt that I could do it. And I was able to do the first maybe 25% of the poses, when I stood up and felt sick to my stomach. I knew my blood sugar had plunged, and I knew that I had to get out of that room, but the teacher told me to stay and sit, and I did not feel like I could do anything else. So I sat, and I sat, and held back tears that came out of nowhere.

Eventually, I caught the teacher's eye and asked if I could leave. Her response was not positive, but I was adamant. I knew I needed to check my blood sugar, and I needed to not feel so sick for another minute. I sat for a while in the front room, and drank my water. My sugar was 75, which is not pre-comatose, but not okay to keep going in the negative direction. I had to leave. I had to go home.

I wailed all the way home. It was bizarre. There were no feelings or thoughts associated with the wailing, just a raw, guttural noise from my soul. Eventually, it ended, and I ate dinner, and slept through the night.

It wasn't a good day to go, and I want to go back. But I don't know when I'll feel up to it. I think that heat is a really big stressor to my body, and I'll have to be in a perfect place blood-sugar and energy wise before I try again. It's difficult for me to accept defeat, even temporarily, but if I'm learning anything at this point in my life, it's that I need to have patience to get the things I want.

Peace out :)

Thrift Share Monday :)

Stocking kits are always a big deal :)

So I bought a few Christmas items. I haven't listed my Christmas stock yet. I figure it needs to dip below the triple digits before I do. I know that people might want to start working on projects, though, so I listed this kit yesterday.

Onion River Pottery

Whenever I see these mugs, I buy them. I just think they're so special. I've totally become a mug person in the past year. I've come to believe that the first things we look at in the morning should make us smile (and that definitely includes bedmates).

Florsheim boots

The elementary school across the street started ringing its bells this morning, even though the kids aren't back in school yet. Personally, I'm not ready for the school bells to start ringing. Somehow, in the midst of a summer of neverending heat, vacation has ended and regular life must return.

Peace out :)

Laziness & Photographing Textiles

Vintage Vera Neumann Curtain - A Rare Find!

So I have a ridiculous procrastinating habit with photographing textiles. They're so big! So yesterday, I faced my fear and did a bunch all at once, just laid them in the driveway in the early morning light, and shot the hell out of them. Yeah, so it's not professional, but it got the job done, and in the end, that's really all that matters.

In my professional, non-eBay life, I deal a lot with the term laziness. People tell me that they don't/can't do something because they're "lazy". And in response, without fail, I say, "Bull. Laziness doesn't exist. Find another word." It's my shtick. It's my higher self speaking, because in my darker moments, I am just as likely to think those same things about myself. But I don't want to be a person that ever talks about myself that way. Would I say that to a friend in a condescending way? Would I insult them like that, or would I be understanding and acknowledge their weariness/exhaustion/pain and need for rest? Probably the latter.

Calling yourself "lazy" is a cop-out. It's the end of the sentence. Nothing can follow it. It prevents you from digging deeper and figuring out what's really going on. It prevents you from acknowledging your own humanness and forgiving yourself from being imperfect and a non-superhero.

So forgive yourself already and take a nap.

Word.

What to do in the heat

Palazzo Pant Jumpsuit - Oh to have the energy to make!

1. Put a fan directly facing you
2. Move slowly - Talk with volunteers at thrift stores
3. Take an afternoon nap/siesta (I like to listen to talk radio)
4. Hydrate regularly (Factor in excess sweating)
5. Expect less of yourself (and others)
6. Exercise early in the morning, or late in the evening
7. Write more: Letters, emails, poems, stories
8. Read more: World news, fiction, non-fiction
9. Forgive quickly (heat psychosis is rampant)
10. Listen to folk music on Pandora (Emmylou Harris, baby!)

My weekend :)

1. The restaurant Lyfe, with a veggie burger and vegan chocolate chip cookie
2. So many pregnant women in form-fitting stretchy dresses
3. My brother taught me how to breathe for a didgeridoo
4. I ate a lot of green vegetables
5. I walked all over the Stanford campus and felt inferior
6. A lot of antibacterial handwashing, and then some more
7. Hours of good thinking time in my car
8. Twelve hours of sleep last night on a friend's lovely hide-a-bed
9. Canada Day :)
10. A crazy evening of Magic Mike (at least I didn't cry this time) and a new-found personal commitment to support Matthew McConaughey for the supporting actor Academy Award (the Academy is typically very welcoming of my many educated and varied opinions)

Operation "Sell Car"

I just returned from the shop. It's my engine mounts, and front axle. $1000. I know I've said this before, but I am done. I am so done. I need a new car, like today.

Operation "Sell VW" commences today.

The brain fog.

Tape dispensing machine. I love those pretty buttons :)

I am in such a brain fog right now. Yesterday was super windy here in my fair city, and our cherry tree broke in half. I heard something fall against my window, and walked outside to see what it was. By the time I made it to the front door, I'd forgotten why I was there. I didn't see the tree until someone pointed it out to me later. I went to yoga soon after, hoping that some static poses would do well for my static-filled brain.

Being out of school does not bother me. I can fill time like no one's business. But my brain is not my friend. I forget things. I can't think. I spend whole minutes staring at the ceiling. I used to do that because I was depressed. Now it feels like I'm resting my brain, but I haven't done anything to rest from. A friend, who also just graduated from a masters program, told me that her blood pressure was suddenly hovering at a ridiculously low level. I think that this is what biofeedback is all about. Our bodies are telling us that they need to rest, and even though it feels like a complete turn-about from where we've just been, it is a necessary part of the recovery process.

I was in school for the better part of five years, and I got pressed to limits I didn't know I had. So now, I'm just going to stare at the ceiling for a while, because I forgot what this paragraph was going to be about.

Peace out mofos.

Post flea market meltdown

I feel so bad right now. The flea market was so much work, and not worth the time and energy in the end, which makes me feel like I can't keep doing this reselling thing. I'm fooling myself to believe that I can continue to support myself this way. I couldn't pay my rent this month. I had to ask for help, and now I feel like this thing that I love so much has quickly become the thorn in my side.

I feel like my needs are exponentially greater than I can possibly meet. I need a job with health insurance, but I don't qualify for jobs that offer it. I'm stuck with a masters degree and now I'm almost thirty and my body is falling apart, and I need health care more than ever, and I'm less able to get it every day. I have less than three months to solve this problem, and now it feels like the sky is falling.

I need to eat, but my body doesn't want to eat because it's hot and I feel sick, but my mood is directly related to my food intake.

That's all for now.

Actual Postscript: Um, I just looked over my posts over the last week and it appears that I am having a total breakdown. I'm not. I'm functional, but graduation has taken the wind out of my sails. This too shall pass, I assume, as it always does.

Online dating update (it sucks)

Frye Boots, baby! This model is no longer made.

So when I started setting stuff up for the flea market, organizing and such, I realized that I have a lot more than I could have imagined, and my booth should look really nice and full on Saturday. I'm a little bit concerned about my own energy level, and my ability to get through the day, but I'm committed and will do what needs to be done.

The online dating thing is lame. I hate it. I want a refund. All I think when I look at it is, "This is not what I want". I don't know at what point it's appropriate to do something I don't want in the interest of having sex a meaningful relationship sometime soon. I don't know how far to push myself in this area, when nothing else has been fruitful, so I don't have other, better, options.

I want a man I'm deeply attracted to. I want a man who's at least as strong as me. Those are the two hardest things to find. All of the other stuff is way easier. My therapist and I talked today about how capable I am. I have quality friendships with men. I've had intimate relationships with men. All I have to do is put the two together, and I'll be in business! I told her she was being too positive; she said she wasn't trying to be.

I'm tired of it being so hard.

[That's what she said :)]

Feelings of lost-ness

Handmade Hmong quilted wall hanging

There is a deep melancholy that comes with graduating. My bachelors degree came and went, and I don't quite recall what I did afterwards. I kept my three jobs, and enjoyed quality book time and wandering the aisles at the public library. I think I mostly just lost myself in a terrible relationship that all started with a black string bikini and a Winnebago. I started training for an Ironman triathlon, and got diagnosed with diabetes and epilepsy.

Graduating didn't make my life fall apart, but it gave me less structure to cope when life did fall apart. I think I've created a significant structure now that will help to alleviate some of that lost-ness that I experienced eight years ago. Mostly I need to ride out the weirdness. Maybe I'll also go to the beach a couple times.

Grad Plans #2

I am having so much anxiety about the overarching theme of graduation. Sure, the ceremony will be great, and the banquet, and the time with family and friends. But this burning in my chest is more than indigestion; it's total fear.

People in my cohort have jobs. People in my cohort are going to get paid, and soon. And I am going to continue to do the things I've been doing all along, because change would be too much for me. Is that sad? Pathetic? I'm not sure that it isn't. There are student loans to pay, and health insurance options to find. And somehow I'm stuck. My brain is stuck. I can't move. I've panicked into stillness.

The beginning of this year, for various reasons (i.e. moving), was horrific. So I'm gradually shifting into the next phase, and that has to be okay for me. I have to accept myself and all of my limitations. I have to accept that I need time and space, and piles of books from the library to ease the transition. I need to order my Slovenia: 1945 book and start to dream again about writing. I need space to move around in. I need rest, and silence, and lots and lots of hugs.

And then, eventually, when I least expect it, I can move on.

Funkdigity

Knitting? Gardening? Staring out the window?

Should I be doing something else? Should I be watching less television? Should I be walking on the grass and staring at the sky more? I'm in that weird place where my life is changing and I don't quite know what to do while it's happening. I've been talking about it for the past nine months or so, but now my graduation is a week away (nine days to be exact). I'm in a funky funk, and I'm just going to have to ride it out.

I'm pretty much a professional now. I'm a professional who sells trash on the internet (when I'm trying to convince someone how lame I am, I create really pithy sayings like that). I'm actually pretty awesome, but I don't know if it's okay to really live in that feeling. I might become obese or sociopathic if I care about myself too much (or too little for that matter). I guess I have a core fear that I have to maintain some kind of emotional balance that errs on the side of depression. That way, karma will repay me in my next life by blessing me with many virgins (seriously, why are virgins so valuable in the afterlife?) or cows.

I created an outfit for graduation day. I bought a dress yesterday, and took it to be altered today. I still need to have my earrings fixed. Everything fell apart at the beginning of the school year, and I've just kinda limped along ever since. Now I'm on the other side, and everything needs repair. Including me, probably.