Friday, May 28, 2010

I Dreamed A (miniature) Dream in Days Gone By...

Some of you who know me are probably aware of the Great Dollhouse Disaster of 1995 and the 15 year old festering chip on my shoulder that resulted directly from this tragedy. If you have not yet heard this tale of shattered dreams and a child's first experience with disillusionment then please lend me your ear. (If you can already recite this tale verbatim then please feel free to scroll down and look at the pretty pictures):

My story begins in the summer of 1994 at the California State Fair. All I really wanted to do was check out the livestock and ride a death trap or two but instead I was dragged into the expo hall to see which 4-H member had the most ribbons and who had grown the largest tomato that year. I was in for the surprise of my life when I stumbled upon an exhibit on miniatures and dollhouses that would ignite a multi-month long obsession. The vignettes on display were more than I could have ever imagined were possible in the world of miniatures (granted I was 9 at the time and this was the first time I realized there even was a world of miniatures). After my mind was blown all I could think of were the hundreds of ways I would style my own diminutive abode if I had one. There would be chandeliers and window dressings, wallpaper and canopy beds, Viking ranges and tiled backsplashes! If my parents would not heed my advice and invest in lime tulle curtains and red velvet chaise lounges then I would get a dollhouse and style it my way! As a child of nearly 10 it is hard to ask for only one thing for your birthday but that was how badly I wanted a pint-sized design project of my very own. It was the only item on my wish list. I wanted this dollhouse stat so that the luxe rooms of myimagination could be created and the complex (not to mention sordid) lives of its itty-bitty inhabitants could commence. I could not care less if the house's exterior was shingled or finished at all. I wanted it immediately; I wanted it pre-fab. My father, on the other hand, thought, or pretended in an effort to save money to think, that the building of the dollhouse was half the fun. I objected. Not only did I not want to waste hours of decorating time building the dollhouse but I also did not trust my father to build the dollhouse in a timely fashion. My parents were insistent and so the dollhouse was purchased in the form of a build-it-yourself kit and I was promised that in no time at all my Allison Model dollhouse would look like this:

I didn't buy it at the time and 15 years later it's no surprise that instead of the above image my dollhouse looks like this:

How do I cope with the dissapointment, the shattered dreams, and the disillusionment of a young girl? The way you must cope with everything: suppress and repress. I don't entirely blame my parents. I should have put up more of a fuss. I knew better even if they didn't and so I have lived the past 15 years shouldering my fair share of the blame and trying to pretend that life is just as rich without that particular dream coming true. But I am only human and every so often my rage comes out. When I go home I will occassionally dump all of the pieces on the craft table and gather the tools to start building my masterpiece but the directions confuse me. Last time I even looked up local dollhouse stores to answer my questions. I drove to the only one in town and found out that it was out of business. Those are the moments I curse the day I acquiesed to a build-it-yourself "fun".

This entry was brought about because today has been particularly trying. In an act of massochistic stupidity I googled the words "miniature" + "interior" + "design" and practically drowned in the beautiful images of mini-lives and small scale design. I am posting the following images with a healthy dose of concern for you my readers. Please do not hold it against me when you fall in love with these pictures, ask your parents for a dollhouse of your very own, and find yourself in 2025 still waiting for it to be built.

{the house of lisa (thanks for the correction!)}

{dream dollhouses}

{design sponge}

{courtesty of fabric of my life, my latest blog-session}

Have a larger than life weekend!

Friday, May 21, 2010

Lame, I know...

I must say, this week was infinitely better than last and I am wrapping up this Friday feeling energized and accomplished (faciliting a raucus book club at the Senior Center and paying off debt collectors with my first pay check are pretty big accomplishments if I do say so myself). However, with all of this energizing and accomplishing I have had hardly a moment for a real post and sadly that moment is yet to arrive. Instead I leave you with two images that I'm currently inspired by. Seperately they each represent two of my favorite interests: vegetarianism and taxidermy.

{thank you design sponge}

{bright bizarre, you're an angel.}

Happy Friday!

Post Script: This Old Lady in Training does not actually perform taxidermy herself. Instead she has a strange and unshakable fascination and magnet-like attraction to anything involving stuffed once-alive animals or their mounted heads/antlers/etc. Don't judge.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Picked Me Right On Up...

Tonight my friend and I took in the Greenwood-Phinney Art Walk. It served as a good setting for some informal counseling. I am a week and a half into my first full time, career type job and while I'm fairly certain I am going to love it I am still experiencing a certain amount of anxiety, exhaustion, and general awkwardness that go along with being the new kid. These feelings of uncertainty and discomfort as I figure out what this whole work thing is all about are all well and good but it seems as if it is becomming a theme in my non work life as well. I spend my day at work trying to figure out effective work place communication and struggle to forge relationships and lately I have also been feeling this same discomfort in my personal life. As a result I have been feeling frustrated and lonely because seemingly no real connection is being made despite a true desire to understand (and of course to be understood). After walking and talking about this Alexis, said friend and counselor, found this print by Jessica Swift at Assemble Gallery and Studio that instantly cheered me up. While it might not be a connection with another person a connection was made none the less.

It gets me.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Start Expecting the Unexpected...

Two days ago I got in the car with a co-worker who, if it weren't for the noted absence of the "Seattle freeze" in her person-to-person interactions, I would have labeled as "pure Seattle". She's never without her Danksos, eats in a sustainable and organic manner, and drives a 10 year old Subaru. Seeing these cues that clearly scream "PACIFIC NORTHWEST" I had assumed she probably enjoyed the musical stylings that accompany the PNW "mystique". I enjoyed this image so much that I had even envisioned myself running into her at Tractor Tavern in Ballard while taking in an alt-country concert. At this chance meeting we would probably discuss the bluegrass players we had both seen down at Pike's Place on our respective lunch time walks. In my fantasy the only music I could see us coming into contention over was my obsessive listening to the Glee soundtrack (Volumes 1 and 2) and my love of modern country (in my imagination she has a dedication to classic country and so by focusing on that shared value I would always be able to smooth over our artistic disagreement). A few sentances ago when I used the phrase "I had assumed" I hope that you, the reader, could immediately forsee that this was going to end in a shattering of dreams and a general sense of dissillusionment for your author. When I was offerred a ride I was thrilled. I thought "Oh man... she will probably have an obscure local band playing in her car... if not I'll suggest we listen to Cat Stevens and we can ride the Peace Train all the way to the meeting." The reality of the situation was as far from my dreams as possible. Instead of The Maldives we listened to a mix comprised exclusively of Keith Sweat-esque slow jams. Shocked, but not quite appalled, it got me thinking...

You think you know a person and then you ride in their car.

With that said... I should probably go deep clean mine.

Monday, May 10, 2010

To My Imaginary Readers...

To the thousands of millions of adoring fans who do not know about, let alone read, this blog:

Please excuse my lack of updates. Besides the missing camera I am in new job acclimation mode. While my energy and inspiration may be down my optimism for a brighter blogging future is high. Give me a few more days.

Working For Retirement,

Thursday, May 6, 2010


I just received the following text message from my sister's friend, "I just found your camera buried in my underwear drawer!"

I don't know how it got there and I don't care. A celebration is in order. A proper update on the way!

Monday, May 3, 2010

Search and Rescue...

This past week has been wild. A dreamy adventure to the Olympic Peninsula, Bingo-Karaoke at the Greenwood Senior Center, and Bloomsday! All of which have incredible pictures. The problem? My camera has gone missing. I had so many posts all based around these photographs. I weep for the writing that never will be.

Can we please have a moment of silence for my camera. Please if you have any information as to its whereabouts step forward. Your identity will be protected and there will be a reward (I hope you accept I O Us)