How?

I'm not sure how I've let so much time lapse since my last entry. Time is something that seems to either fly by or creep slower than a snail. It seems like I am still just out of college but no. Time has flown and I have officially been out 9 years. How the heck has that happened? It makes sense but I'm not sure how. I graduated from Anderson University in 2001. Now, I'm horrible at math but that makes 9 years I'm fairly certain.

When I was a kid, I felt like time took forever! Now, as an adult, it seems like it flys by. I don't have kids yet but I can imagine that once they appear, it will go even quicker.

None of this is news I realize but once and a great while it really surprises me how fast it all goes by.

The envy of mad skillz

I just returned from a business trip to NYC for the National Stationery Show. The show was a culmination of a year's worth of work crammed into about 2 months. It was nail-biting and exciting. It was frustrating. It was fun. And it left me with wanting to be more (much like my parents cat Max).

When I left the show I wasn't terribly motivated by the stationery and more motivated by the surface design. However, I just looked at one of my favorite design blogs and they had a recap of the NSS. Now, I just want to make people envious of my mad skillz. Why is that we are never happy with what we have? Maybe it's just me but I always want to be more. I want to draw better (which isn't hard to do!), design better, garden better (again, if I took the effort, I might be okay but who has time), cook better, and relax better. How's that for being a perfectionist!? Who fails at relaxing! Seriously!

My whole life has been like that. I was always aware of where I lacked the skills and never where I excelled. I wonder now if people ever envy my skills. Maybe someone saw my design and products at the NSS and felt the same way. How cool would that be?

One of my favorite design books is called, "Print & Pattern." There is also a blog of the same name. How cool would it to be in that book someday. I have so many ways I want to improve. I also have so many things blocking my way like time. Here's the thing though. If I truly wanted to be better, I'd find a way wouldn't I? Maybe that's why I'm working (after this blog anyway) tonight like I have for so many nights so I can get better. So people can envy my mad skillz. Oh to be the envy. I want to be in a blog other than my own. I want to write a book. I want to be featured. I want my 5 minutes of fame I guess. Excuse me Mr. Warhol but I'm ready.

Tap Tap Tap...

When I was a little girl living in Bay City, Michigan (all you Bay City-ites Hollah!) I used to LOVE going to the Sage library by my house. In my memory it was amazing. They had a fountain out front to splash your feet in. It had a statue of a lady in the center and she was beautiful. The kids section was the only one I ventured into. They had the best selection of books and I took part in the book club every summer.

I had two books in particular that I remember checking out so much they should have borrowed it from me. One was called "Marianna May and Nursey". It was by Tommy dePaola. I've never met anyone else who has read this book. It was amazing. This was the book I single handedly ruined at the library from getting it so much. It shaped my childhood which come to think of it may be part of the problem. I still remember nearly every word.

Marianna May had a problem. Nursey only let her wear white so she was always getting it dirty. Finally Nursey said she couldn't do anything. One of the house help (Marianna May was very rich) thought up a brilliant idea to make different colored dresses so she could roll in the grass, make mud pies, eat orange ice, and strawberry ice cream. (That was all from memory by the way!) From that, I too thought I should have clothes to match everything I did. Sadly, my parents didn't have the same thoughts or the same budget that Marianna's parents did. If I ever meet anyone else who read this book and loved it we are sure to be instant friends.

I can't explain how much I love this small saddle-stitched book. My favorite dress that she gets is so typically girly it makes me itch. It's the rainbow one so she can paint pictures. Yeah. I know. The only thing that could have possibly made me love it more was if it sparkled. So not much has changed really. (It's true! I still love rainbows and sparkles and I'm almost 31.)

The other book I can't remember the title of to save my life. It was a prize for reading books for the summer. It had a girl named Gwen in it who solved mysteries. The only thing I can remember is that Gwen tapped her teeth with her finger when she thought. Since Gwen did it, I thought all people who thought did.  I think that may have been the longest summer for my poor mom. As I thought, I tapped my teeth. Have you ever heard that noise before? On repeat? It's kind of annoying. Try it.....see! Annoying right?

(I was tapping my teeth as I wrote this FYI)

What I have in common with Pearl Jam...

I like jam okay and I love pearls but that is the closest I may ever come.

Friday, Matt and I went to a Pearl Jam concert at Verizon Wireless whatever it's called now. Since he sat through a Michael Bublé concert, I figured it was his turn. Having never really listened to Pearl Jam seriously, I was curious to see what it was like. My only experience had been Top 10 radio.

As we waited in line to get in, the storm clouds were getting closer and closer and my annoyance was getting higher and higher. I am SUCH a girl when it comes to getting wet. I don't like it. Not one bit. My hair gets frizzy or curly and all funky. I hate it. (insert foot stomp here)

We had been seated on the lawn in great seats for about 30 minutes (the last time I buy lawn tickets for multiple reasons) when they announced all people on the lawn had to get off because a storm was coming. So we went and sat in my car while it barely rained. Then they announced it was safe so we came back and that is of course when it let loose and I got drenched. Stinkin' rain!

So, long story short. After a really long wait, Pearl Jam rocked (even if Eddie Vedder was slightly drunk) but the crowd sucked. Oh my word! Let me say my darling, sweet, unthreatening hubby nearly got in a fight and I was nearly pushed down the lawn. This crowd was so drunk it was insane! Eddie Vedder even came out with a bottle of wine!

Matt and I were deconstructing our recent concerts and the audiences. Now, most have been on the lawn at Verizon so we have vowed to never sit there again but we are uncertain where we fit in the whole scheme of concerts. Here are our concerts we've been to together:

1. Collective Soul: 105 degree weather but no problems other than a third degree sunburn.
2. Third Day: Met the band, awesome.
3. John Mayer: Ridiculous teenyboppers where we felt ancient.
4. Collective Soul: At Pierre's. Enough said. I still feel violated.
5. Dave Matthews Band: Great show but the pot stench still turns my stomach if I think about it.
6. Michael Bublé: A mostly over 50 crowd with a sprinkling of drunk sorority girls
7. Pearl Jam: Drunkest crows (and band) ever.

I'm not sure what our next show will be. I'm thinking it's going to have to be another Christian band so I feel better about the experience not annoyed. Still, Eddie can sing. 

This one time at Farm Camp...

For people who know me well, they know this, I hate getting dirty. I hate working outside. I hate sweating. Basically, I hate any kind of hard labor...or labor at all. My parents knew this and thinking they were wise and could reform my evil ways, they sent me to summer camp. Not any summer camp. Farm camp. On a farm. Where you had to work...HARD.

This was possibly one of the hardest weeks of my existence. The first warning sign should have come when one of the primary items that I would have to bring was work boots followed by a straw hat. Yes, you read that right. A straw hat.

This "camp" or as I like to call it "seasonal free labor" consisted of feeding chickens, grinding corn BY HAND, milking goats, cutting the lawn with a manual lawn mower, picking cotton, and feeding the ravenous sled dogs that just happened to live there. The power was only on from 9am-8pm. We had to get up when it was still dark. You could only take a shower every other day and "fun" was playing with old-fashioned toys that couldn't fight back.

This concept was probably genius. It was a working farm that sold its produce and we were free labor. Not only that, but the people running the joint were charging my parents to have me work. Not the reverse! Needless to say, this attempt of my parents to get me to enjoy working in the wide world and understanding the joys of hard labor failed. I just resent the week that I had to use an out house, milk a goat, grind corn by hand, and feed the ravenous sled dogs.

This wasn't the only time they sought to improve my life skills. They also sent me to "Super Camp". Let me tell you, that was anything but "super". It revolved around learning. I'll leave you with that for now.

You can do it if you set your mind to it!

  “You have to have confidence in your ability, and then be tough enough to follow through.

  ― Rosalynn Carter  

I have this undeniable expectation that if I set my mind to do something, not only will I do it, but it will be perfect coming out of the gate. I remember the first time I realized this wasn't the case. I hadn't been out of college long and was house sitting for my parents. I think it was their anniversary or someone's birthday because I decided I would make a cake as a welcome home gesture. I was going to be all "Martha Stuart" and glaze this angel food cake. They would be amazed at my mad skills and it would be a success. It was not. The angel food cake turned out fine but it was from a mix so there wasn't any real danger involved there. The trick was a glaze that was sure to delight and amaze. The amazing part was how it didn't glaze at all it just got absorbed into the cake. Totally ridiculous.

So today, I sat down at the table to draw. Now, keep in mind that my husband is the illustrator, not me. In fact, when I went to college, I was going to stay as far away from art as possible because my mom was the artist. Not me! When I did end up in art classes the beginning of my junior year, I was seriously lacking in the drawing department. So I sat down with a fresh sketchbook all set to draw. I start and stop. Not going so good. Everything I drew was wonky and not perfect. 

Another example from today. Our house is great but the bushes out front are a mess. I decided to get out some pent up frustration out while pulling weeds and trimming bushes. After really going to town for what seemed like ages, I stepped back and laughed. The bush was now a stump and there was all sorts of leafy carnage laying everywhere. Mrs Greenjeans I am clearly not. I called in the reinforcements and my mom is going to show me how the do the rest. Yet another area where I am actually not perfect.

Thinking you are perfect and can do anything is great until you are slapped in the face by an over grown twig or wonky illustration. Then, it's just annoying!