The day has finally come. My sectional is here. After second, third, fourth, and fifth guessing, I was a little weirded out by the fact that it is strangely perfect for that space. I guess I thought there'd be more drama to it all since I really thought it'd be too big and we'd have to return it, blah blah blah. But, it's BEAUTIFUL. I think by making me wait, Mr. Bean has insured that I will forever love this sectional. I'll have to post pics later when I get a good shot of it. I think Mr. Bean was pretty excited about it as well since he's also agreed to me getting a new console table and bench. We figure we will single-handedly bring the economy back. Wish us luck.
Not much else to report here. I've slowly been working on getting rid of a bunch of my old stuff. I have a HUGE box of clothes to donate and I haven't been thru half of my clothes yet. It feels good to get rid of stuff, but it's also very overwhelming. Where do you draw the line? I am a self proclaimed packrat. I've gotten a lot better about it, but there are just some things I can't seem to let go of, but it doesn't fit in the "vision" for my house that I have in my head. (I am quoting Peter Walsh here.) Bottom line? I am just not motivated right now. There are boxes everywhere so I feel like there is no end. There. Is. No. End. I'd. Rather. Be. Sewing. As it stands, I can't reach my sewing machine because of all the boxes around it. UGH.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Ugh.
One of those days. My brain is fried right now.
My car was keyed last night. I hate people right now. I would never, ever do that to someone's car. I would never do that to anyone's anything. I don't see why people take pleasure to ruining other people's things. Especially something that you know someone must work hard for. I don't understand.
My dad took a look at it and said it's not that bad. He said to take it to get it professionally buffed. I guess they have machines. Maybe it's just the clear coat. UGH. I hate people right now.
My car was keyed last night. I hate people right now. I would never, ever do that to someone's car. I would never do that to anyone's anything. I don't see why people take pleasure to ruining other people's things. Especially something that you know someone must work hard for. I don't understand.
My dad took a look at it and said it's not that bad. He said to take it to get it professionally buffed. I guess they have machines. Maybe it's just the clear coat. UGH. I hate people right now.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Undecided.
I went to see David Sedaris tonight as part of one of my book clubs. He happened to be here the night of the month we meet for October. It was inevitable that someone would pick his latest book, so we made a night of it. He is on his book tour for When You are Engulfed in Flames. He was awesome as usual. There is something about hearing him read his own work that makes it even funnier. Anyway, here is an article he wrote for The New Yorker on undecided voters. I thought I'd post it in light of the upcoming election. The link for it can be found here.
Undecided
by David Sedaris
October 27, 2008
I don’t know that it was always this way, but, for as long as I can remember, just as we move into the final weeks of the Presidential campaign the focus shifts to the undecided voters. “Who are they?” the news anchors ask. “And how might they determine the outcome of this election?”
Then you’ll see this man or woman— someone, I always think, who looks very happy to be on TV. “Well, Charlie,” they say, “I’ve gone back and forth on the issues and whatnot, but I just can’t seem to make up my mind!” Some insist that there’s very little difference between candidate A and candidate B. Others claim that they’re with A on defense and health care but are leaning toward B when it comes to the economy.
I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?
To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”
To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.
I mean, really, what’s to be confused about?
When doubting that anyone could not know whom they’re voting for, I inevitably think back to November, 1968. Hubert Humphrey was running against Richard Nixon, and when my mother couldn’t choose between them she had me do it for her. It was crazy. One minute I was eating potato chips in front of the TV, and the next I was at the fire station, waiting with people whose kids I went to school with. When it was our turn, we were led by a woman wearing a sash to one of a half-dozen booths, the curtain of which closed after we entered.
“Go ahead,” my mother said. “Flick a switch, any switch.”
I looked at the panel in front of me.
“Start on the judges or whatever and we’ll be here all day, so just pick a President and make it fast. We’ve wasted enough time already.”
“Which one do you think is best?” I asked.
“I don’t have an opinion,” she told me. “That’s why I’m letting you do it. Come on, now, vote.”
I put my finger on Hubert Humphrey and then on Richard Nixon, neither of whom meant anything to me. What I most liked about democracy, at least so far, was the booth—its quiet civility, its atmosphere of importance. “Hmm,” I said, wondering how long we could stay before someone came and kicked us out.
Ideally, my mother would have waited outside, but, as she said, there was no way an unescorted eleven-year-old would be allowed to vote, or even hang out, seeing as the lines were long and the polls were open for only one day. “Will you please hurry it up?” she hissed.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have something like this in our living room?” I asked. “Maybe we could use the same curtains we have on the windows.”
“All right, that’s it.” My mother reached for Humphrey but I beat her to it, and cast our vote for Richard Nixon, who had the same last name as a man at our church. I assumed that the two were related, and only discovered afterward that I was wrong. Richard Nixon had always been Nixon, while the man at my church had shortened his name from something funnier but considerably less poster-friendly—Nickapopapopolis, maybe.
“Oh, well,” I said.
We drove back home, and when asked by my father whom she had voted for, my mother said that it was none of his business.
“What do you mean, ‘none of my business’?” he said. “I told you to vote Republican.”
“Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.”
“You’re not telling me you voted for Humphrey.” He said this as if she had marched through the streets with a pan on her head.
“No,” she said. “I’m not telling you that. I’m not telling you anything. It’s private—all right? My political opinions are none of your concern.”
“What political opinions?” he said. “I’m the one who took you down to register. You didn’t even know there was an election until I told you.”
“Well, thanks for telling me.”
She turned to open a can of mushroom soup. This would be poured over pork chops and noodles and served as our dinner, casserole style. Once we’d taken our seats at the table, my parents would stop fighting directly, and continue their argument through my sisters and me. Lisa might tell a story about her day at school and, if my father said it was interesting, my mother would laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he’d say.
“Nothing. It’s just that, well, I suppose everyone has a different standard. That’s all.”
When told by my father that I was holding my fork wrong, my mother would say that I was holding it right, or right in “certain circles.”
“We don’t know how people eat the world over,” she’d say, not to him but to the buffet or the picture window, as if the statement had nothing to do with any of us.
I wasn’t looking forward to that kind of evening, and so I told my father that I had voted. “She let me,” I said. “And I picked Nixon.”
“Well, at least someone in the family has some brains.” He patted me on the shoulder and as my mother turned away I understood that I had chosen the wrong person.
I didn’t vote again until 1976, when I was nineteen and legally registered. Because I was at college out of state, I sent my ballot through the mail. The choice that year was between Jimmy Carter and Gerald Ford. Most of my friends were going for Carter, but, as an art major, I identified myself as a maverick. “That means an original,” I told my roommate. “Someone who lets the chips fall where they may.” Because I made my own rules and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of them, I decided to write in the name of Jerry Brown, who, it was rumored, liked to smoke pot. This was an issue very close to my heart—too close, obviously, as it amounted to a complete waste. Still, though, it taught me a valuable lesson: calling yourself a maverick is a sure sign that you’re not one.
I wonder if, in the end, the undecideds aren’t the biggest pessimists of all. Here they could order the airline chicken, but, then again, hmm. “Isn’t that adding an extra step?” they ask themselves. “If it’s all going to be chewed up and swallowed, why not cut to the chase, and go with the platter of shit?”
Ah, though, that’s where the broken glass comes in. ♦
Undecided
by David Sedaris
October 27, 2008
I don’t know that it was always this way, but, for as long as I can remember, just as we move into the final weeks of the Presidential campaign the focus shifts to the undecided voters. “Who are they?” the news anchors ask. “And how might they determine the outcome of this election?”
Then you’ll see this man or woman— someone, I always think, who looks very happy to be on TV. “Well, Charlie,” they say, “I’ve gone back and forth on the issues and whatnot, but I just can’t seem to make up my mind!” Some insist that there’s very little difference between candidate A and candidate B. Others claim that they’re with A on defense and health care but are leaning toward B when it comes to the economy.
I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?
To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”
To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.
I mean, really, what’s to be confused about?
When doubting that anyone could not know whom they’re voting for, I inevitably think back to November, 1968. Hubert Humphrey was running against Richard Nixon, and when my mother couldn’t choose between them she had me do it for her. It was crazy. One minute I was eating potato chips in front of the TV, and the next I was at the fire station, waiting with people whose kids I went to school with. When it was our turn, we were led by a woman wearing a sash to one of a half-dozen booths, the curtain of which closed after we entered.
“Go ahead,” my mother said. “Flick a switch, any switch.”
I looked at the panel in front of me.
“Start on the judges or whatever and we’ll be here all day, so just pick a President and make it fast. We’ve wasted enough time already.”
“Which one do you think is best?” I asked.
“I don’t have an opinion,” she told me. “That’s why I’m letting you do it. Come on, now, vote.”
I put my finger on Hubert Humphrey and then on Richard Nixon, neither of whom meant anything to me. What I most liked about democracy, at least so far, was the booth—its quiet civility, its atmosphere of importance. “Hmm,” I said, wondering how long we could stay before someone came and kicked us out.
Ideally, my mother would have waited outside, but, as she said, there was no way an unescorted eleven-year-old would be allowed to vote, or even hang out, seeing as the lines were long and the polls were open for only one day. “Will you please hurry it up?” she hissed.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have something like this in our living room?” I asked. “Maybe we could use the same curtains we have on the windows.”
“All right, that’s it.” My mother reached for Humphrey but I beat her to it, and cast our vote for Richard Nixon, who had the same last name as a man at our church. I assumed that the two were related, and only discovered afterward that I was wrong. Richard Nixon had always been Nixon, while the man at my church had shortened his name from something funnier but considerably less poster-friendly—Nickapopapopolis, maybe.
“Oh, well,” I said.
We drove back home, and when asked by my father whom she had voted for, my mother said that it was none of his business.
“What do you mean, ‘none of my business’?” he said. “I told you to vote Republican.”
“Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.”
“You’re not telling me you voted for Humphrey.” He said this as if she had marched through the streets with a pan on her head.
“No,” she said. “I’m not telling you that. I’m not telling you anything. It’s private—all right? My political opinions are none of your concern.”
“What political opinions?” he said. “I’m the one who took you down to register. You didn’t even know there was an election until I told you.”
“Well, thanks for telling me.”
She turned to open a can of mushroom soup. This would be poured over pork chops and noodles and served as our dinner, casserole style. Once we’d taken our seats at the table, my parents would stop fighting directly, and continue their argument through my sisters and me. Lisa might tell a story about her day at school and, if my father said it was interesting, my mother would laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he’d say.
“Nothing. It’s just that, well, I suppose everyone has a different standard. That’s all.”
When told by my father that I was holding my fork wrong, my mother would say that I was holding it right, or right in “certain circles.”
“We don’t know how people eat the world over,” she’d say, not to him but to the buffet or the picture window, as if the statement had nothing to do with any of us.
I wasn’t looking forward to that kind of evening, and so I told my father that I had voted. “She let me,” I said. “And I picked Nixon.”
“Well, at least someone in the family has some brains.” He patted me on the shoulder and as my mother turned away I understood that I had chosen the wrong person.
I didn’t vote again until 1976, when I was nineteen and legally registered. Because I was at college out of state, I sent my ballot through the mail. The choice that year was between Jimmy Carter and Gerald Ford. Most of my friends were going for Carter, but, as an art major, I identified myself as a maverick. “That means an original,” I told my roommate. “Someone who lets the chips fall where they may.” Because I made my own rules and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of them, I decided to write in the name of Jerry Brown, who, it was rumored, liked to smoke pot. This was an issue very close to my heart—too close, obviously, as it amounted to a complete waste. Still, though, it taught me a valuable lesson: calling yourself a maverick is a sure sign that you’re not one.
I wonder if, in the end, the undecideds aren’t the biggest pessimists of all. Here they could order the airline chicken, but, then again, hmm. “Isn’t that adding an extra step?” they ask themselves. “If it’s all going to be chewed up and swallowed, why not cut to the chase, and go with the platter of shit?”
Ah, though, that’s where the broken glass comes in. ♦
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Finally Finished.
I just thought I'd post a jacket I've been working on for a friend's baby. Her baby dedication at the church is tomorrow, so I thought I'd attempt to make something for her. I got the pattern from Bend-the-Rules Sewing. It's a courduroy with a pink flannel lining. It's actually a very easy pattern which I made a few changes to. I've got to iron it and clean it up a bit, but I am pleased with it. I am sure it looks ghetto to a sewing veteran, but whatever. She's a baby and she'll grow out of it in a few weeks. :) Check it out.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Couch Potato
We finally bought the couch we've been eyeing for about a year now. I am pretty excited, although I had a few hours, er, moments, of plain freaking out about whether I chose the right configuration. It's a sectional, and a large one at that, so there were about 849 ways to piece this couch together for our space. I am still a bit worried that it might be too much couch for our space, but, we've chosen to go by the "if you love it, buy it" point of view, and we love it. It will be delivered in 2 weeks, so that gives me hardly any time to clean that room out.
I finally moved all my stuff out of my dad's, so the entire front room looks like an episode of Clean Sweep on TLC. It's pretty ridiculous and embarrassing and overwhelming. So far I've managed to ignore it because I happened to move it all in the weekend before Hurricane Ike and have had lots of excuses not to get to it. Mr. Bean told me that we could order the couch as soon as I cleaned out that room, but I asked him to let me just order it to motivate me to clean out the room since I've been really good at ignoring the landfill that is overtaking my house. So far it has not worked, but I think I tend to work better under pressure. :) I don't know that I will ever be done with decorating my house, but I think that actually having furniture to decorate AROUND would be a good start. :D
The problem is I am a much better impulse shopper than I am a thought-out shopper. Like this sectional, for instance. We've been looking at it so long that I've managed to think up absolutely every scenario as to why it will or will not work. It's really exhausting. I am not typically an indecisive person, so this is a whole new world for me. I will not be back. :)
Everything has been sort of ho hum here lately. I'm working on a jacket for my friend's baby from this book (which I totally love, BTW). I am not totally pleased with it, but it's pretty cute. It is a very simple pattern that I've managed to turn into something quite complicated. My mom says I have a knack for taking the simple and turning it into the hardest thing in the world. This time, I'd have to agree. I have enjoyed sewing so far but this is by far the most frustrating project I've worked on. I am pretty sure it has everything to do with the fact that I am a beginner and I am making adjustments that require more experience and nothing to do with the pattern itself. But, hey, I've always loved a challenge. Just not this one. Ha.
I spent some time tonight downloading some music. I love to listen to music at work to sort of drown out the typical noises in the office. My office is a bit unique since my mother, father and brother are all each in rooms about 10 feet from my office, so you can imagine what noises I like to drown out. :) I am officially obsessed with M.I.A.. I am looking forward to going to work tomorrow to listen to my new downloads. I am working on some different stuff right now, so it's nice to change the ol' routine up a bit.
Off to bed. I desperately need to get this sleep thing on a schedule.
I finally moved all my stuff out of my dad's, so the entire front room looks like an episode of Clean Sweep on TLC. It's pretty ridiculous and embarrassing and overwhelming. So far I've managed to ignore it because I happened to move it all in the weekend before Hurricane Ike and have had lots of excuses not to get to it. Mr. Bean told me that we could order the couch as soon as I cleaned out that room, but I asked him to let me just order it to motivate me to clean out the room since I've been really good at ignoring the landfill that is overtaking my house. So far it has not worked, but I think I tend to work better under pressure. :) I don't know that I will ever be done with decorating my house, but I think that actually having furniture to decorate AROUND would be a good start. :D
The problem is I am a much better impulse shopper than I am a thought-out shopper. Like this sectional, for instance. We've been looking at it so long that I've managed to think up absolutely every scenario as to why it will or will not work. It's really exhausting. I am not typically an indecisive person, so this is a whole new world for me. I will not be back. :)
Everything has been sort of ho hum here lately. I'm working on a jacket for my friend's baby from this book (which I totally love, BTW). I am not totally pleased with it, but it's pretty cute. It is a very simple pattern that I've managed to turn into something quite complicated. My mom says I have a knack for taking the simple and turning it into the hardest thing in the world. This time, I'd have to agree. I have enjoyed sewing so far but this is by far the most frustrating project I've worked on. I am pretty sure it has everything to do with the fact that I am a beginner and I am making adjustments that require more experience and nothing to do with the pattern itself. But, hey, I've always loved a challenge. Just not this one. Ha.
I spent some time tonight downloading some music. I love to listen to music at work to sort of drown out the typical noises in the office. My office is a bit unique since my mother, father and brother are all each in rooms about 10 feet from my office, so you can imagine what noises I like to drown out. :) I am officially obsessed with M.I.A.. I am looking forward to going to work tomorrow to listen to my new downloads. I am working on some different stuff right now, so it's nice to change the ol' routine up a bit.
Off to bed. I desperately need to get this sleep thing on a schedule.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Back in the Saddle, Again
And we're back!!! Hurricane Ike sort of threw us for a loop the past couple of weeks. I can say I have never been more appreciative of working stop lights until now. I mean, everyone followed the rules, and I never saw an issue with some jerk going before he was supposed to, but it's nice to not have to constantly watch all four sides of a huge intersection and determine when it's your time to go. I know, not a big deal, but very frustrating when you have to stop at like 40 lights just to get somewhere.
Work, on the other hand, was pretty slow up until yesterday. We got power back pretty quickly at work, but then a transformer blew and knocked it out for a few more days just to make sure we didn't forget what it was like to be without it. We just got back our internet as well, so it was a flashback to like 1992 and how it must have been without email, cnn.com, and Yahoo Launchcast. B O R I N G. Anyway, I realized how much time I spend on the internet at work, so I will make a valient effort to keep it to a minimum from now one. Except today. Since I am still at work. :)
Anyway, Mr. Bean and I had a pretty eventful couple of weeks, despite the hurricane. My sister's good friend got married in Austin and had a small, quaint wedding. Mr. B and I were pretty much the only ones crying (we are both criers), but it was very sweet nonetheless. We were both honored to be invited since there was only 20 people there including us and the bride and groom. It was the exact opposite of the wedding we attended this past weekend in Aspen, but both were charming in their own sense. The Austin wedding really reminded me of what it's all really supposed to be about. I think I got a little carried away with my wedding and it's drama myself, so it was cool to look back at Mr. B while they were saying their vows and remember our day just a couple of years ago when we were saying our own vows. Very sweet.
My friend's wedding in Aspen was about as gorgeous as they come. It was truly a dream wedding for most. The weather couldn't have been more perfect, and the people couldn't have been more cool. The groom's side sort of challenged all of us to see who could party the hardest, but I think they weren't ready for what we could bring. I am just glad the bride is still talking to us. :) We were all at the top of our game and pretty much determined that yes, she's the quiet friend. I won't elaborate. All I will say is, I have 4 massive bruises and was sore for about 3 days. Some may say it was from raising the roof a little too much, but I will blame it on the white water rafting and the altitude. :)
Their ceremony was probably the sweetest I've ever heard, and that's saying a lot if you count up how many wedding shows I have watched. The groom had me wanting to sob outloud, but I managed to hold it in and release just the right amount of sniffles. I just hope that the video and photos don't show the ugly-cry-face that I pretty much know I had. Good times.
So back to reality. I am getting excited about the holidays this year and will start planning Mr. B's birthday ski trip. I am a sucker for all that is Halloween and cannot wait until the Nutcracker Market so I can blow some dough!!
Sorry for the boring post. I will post some more later with some of the stuff I've been working on. I think you'll like it!!
Work, on the other hand, was pretty slow up until yesterday. We got power back pretty quickly at work, but then a transformer blew and knocked it out for a few more days just to make sure we didn't forget what it was like to be without it. We just got back our internet as well, so it was a flashback to like 1992 and how it must have been without email, cnn.com, and Yahoo Launchcast. B O R I N G. Anyway, I realized how much time I spend on the internet at work, so I will make a valient effort to keep it to a minimum from now one. Except today. Since I am still at work. :)
Anyway, Mr. Bean and I had a pretty eventful couple of weeks, despite the hurricane. My sister's good friend got married in Austin and had a small, quaint wedding. Mr. B and I were pretty much the only ones crying (we are both criers), but it was very sweet nonetheless. We were both honored to be invited since there was only 20 people there including us and the bride and groom. It was the exact opposite of the wedding we attended this past weekend in Aspen, but both were charming in their own sense. The Austin wedding really reminded me of what it's all really supposed to be about. I think I got a little carried away with my wedding and it's drama myself, so it was cool to look back at Mr. B while they were saying their vows and remember our day just a couple of years ago when we were saying our own vows. Very sweet.
My friend's wedding in Aspen was about as gorgeous as they come. It was truly a dream wedding for most. The weather couldn't have been more perfect, and the people couldn't have been more cool. The groom's side sort of challenged all of us to see who could party the hardest, but I think they weren't ready for what we could bring. I am just glad the bride is still talking to us. :) We were all at the top of our game and pretty much determined that yes, she's the quiet friend. I won't elaborate. All I will say is, I have 4 massive bruises and was sore for about 3 days. Some may say it was from raising the roof a little too much, but I will blame it on the white water rafting and the altitude. :)
Their ceremony was probably the sweetest I've ever heard, and that's saying a lot if you count up how many wedding shows I have watched. The groom had me wanting to sob outloud, but I managed to hold it in and release just the right amount of sniffles. I just hope that the video and photos don't show the ugly-cry-face that I pretty much know I had. Good times.
So back to reality. I am getting excited about the holidays this year and will start planning Mr. B's birthday ski trip. I am a sucker for all that is Halloween and cannot wait until the Nutcracker Market so I can blow some dough!!
Sorry for the boring post. I will post some more later with some of the stuff I've been working on. I think you'll like it!!
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