Fresno: Making Dreams Come True??

24 days from today, if everything goes according to plan, I will be an official finisher of the San Francisco Marathon. Of course a huge part of me decided to run a marathon to challenge myself, learn about hard work and dedication, and prove to myself that things I think are impossible can be achieved one step at a time. The other part of me, however, thought that a marathon would be a fantastic excuse for a trip and where better to travel then one of my favorite places San Francisco. My excitement for the trip has been mounting. I will see family and friends all the while achieving something pretty cool. However, today while digitally perusing some pictures from my March trip to the Bay Area, I started to feel a little resentful towards the 26.2 mile jog that's bringing me down to my city by the bay for the weekend. With all of the carb loading, resting, and nearly 5 hours of running how on earth am I going to be able to go shopping? This resentment turned into panic as I looked at pictures from the Alemany Flea Market in Bernal Heights that I had taken and I saw objects that I CLEARLY should have purchased at the time but didn't and now during this trip I will not be able to go back!

With less than a month left until the marathon it is hardly the time for me and my dream (running 26.2 miles) to come into conflict. There will be more trips to SF and there will be more flea markets. I let it go.

A few hours later though I started to think about the recently planned trip to Fresno I'm taking the weekend after this one. What will I do while I'm down there? A run. Reading by the pool. Watching my parent's cable. Eating. After naming all of these activies that I am absolutely and immensely looking forward to I remembered an INCREDIBLE thrift store in Fresno's Tower District with an even more incredible name -- Yoshi Now! And the great thing about this store is that it's not simply incredible by comparison. What I mean by that is this: Fresno, for me, is a little less than alluring. When I am there for too long I get frustrated, antsy, and, I'll say it, downright cranky. Anything even slightly interesting can easily be labeled as extraordinary when you're that desperate for something new. Yoshi Now! is not only exceptional for Fresno but it would be exceptional anywhere and in this respect Fresno has a leg up on Seattle. It is a treasure trove of the finest quality because it's huge, chalk full, and CHEAP!!!!

I hope they ship because a week from now I'm on my way!

Recipe for a 100% Wonderful Day...

This morning started off a little unsure of itself. I had a 5:45am running date with a friend and this commitment loomed over me even as I slept. I woke up at 2:15am, 3:23am, and 4:35am thinking it was time to get up and cursing the day I became a slave to running. When 5:15 actually did roll around my mood was not much better. I reached for my phone at least 4 times to call Mikaela and cancel but each time the excuses I thought up in my head were not good enough to say out loud despite my best attempts to perfect them. And so with no call to tell her otherwise Mikaela arrived at 5:49am (4 minutes late!) and I came to find out that she was entering into this 8 mile expedition with a similar mindset. To make a long story short: she came, we ran, the rain conquered. When I finished I looked like a drowned labradoodle. My pony tail was one giant rat's nest with odd frizz-curls framing my face but luckily an accompanying doodle-stench was absent. I say luckily because there was no time to shower. I hurriedly (and somewhat violently) brushed the rats out to create a lovely fluff-ball on my head, stuck a headband on forementioned fluff-ball, and packed up left-overs from last nights foray in Moosewood Restaruant: New Classics and ran out the door.

It being Seattle the weather on June 2nd is nothing but doom and gloom but for some reason today I decided that I would eat while I worked in order to afford myself a walk to Pike's Place. So after eating my polenta and Sicilian Stir-Fry (the rosemary, garlic, basil, red pepper flakes, and red wine are what make it delightfully Sicilian) I grabbed my umbrella and headed out. I picked up a coffee from the tourist laden original Starbucks and got down to business -- scoping out the flowers!

I did not title this entry "Recipe for a 100% Wonderful Day" because I have bad hair and woke up earlier than I would have liked so that I could run 8 miles in the rain. But I am sure that you, my ever so clever reader, know this. You have patiently been reading so that you too can know the secret to a 100% wonderful day and finally we have arrived. Hold on to your fedoras because here it is...

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PEONIES at $10 for 6 stems!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know!

Did I tell you or what?

Take a minute. Process.

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Now, get in your car / hop on your bike / board that bus and get down to the market.

Or just enjoy this picture. Can you spot the peonies??



Feeling sunny in spite of the surrounding stratocumulus',
OLIT

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}

{the house of lisa}

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

Have a larger than life weekend!

OLIT

I Die...

While perusing my google reader today I found that Design Sponge posted a portal to the deepest parts of my soul with this image:

A dog in military garb with his pet dog! Oh man, nothing gets me more than anthropomorphism and what's even better is that this image did not stand alone. Along with it was a link to a certain Dorian Greyhound & CO and while the site is not fully up and running yet it shows great promise with its tag line of "Portraits for Pets of Distinction". The associates of Dorian Greyhound & Co create "ancestral" pet portraits by combining old world images and pictures of pooches (but I'm assuming other animals can be used as well). Although I don't currently have a pet for them to paint (or the $800+ price tag that goes along with the portraits) I am hoping the site will have a gallery for me to spend hours gazing at and dreaming of the day when I will be one of the lucky few with an ancestral pet portrait of my very own.... ... ...

Perhaps so that I could have a portrait with all of my many dogs in it I would opt for Diego Valaquez's Las Meninas

But then again I've always had a thing for Byzantine iconography. A nice Madonna and Child could be lovely (despite the damnation I might be tempting through my sacrilege).
Ah dreams. I suppose I have a lot of time to ponder the merits of both but it's nice to have something important to really get the ole' mind going.

Best Regards,
OLIT

Cheap Thrills...

Today I had a job interview and while it was for the program that I have spent the last 2 months volunteering 20 hours a week with I was still pretty nervous. Nervous enough in fact to on several occasions trip over my words and fill in the blanks with such eloquences as "um" and "eh" and "ahem." Despite these stumbles I think it went pretty well but two hours later I am still a little dizzy and nauseous from the experience. I am trying to think of things to take my mind off what I could have said differently. Go for a run? Well, yes. But I'm going to do that anyways today. Paint my nails? I just did that last night. Clean? Again? Do I have to? Read? Well that's a pretty good idea... but what if I want to get out of the house? Shop? OH MY GOSH YES THAT'S THE ANSWER! But wait... I think I've forgotten something. Oh that's right... what is that I spend 30-40 hours a week doing? Volunteering. What don't I have? A job. What should I absolutely not be doing? Shopping.

I have a consumption problem that I am pretty aware of. I have a love hate relationship with consumerism and I struggle with this. My recently intensified love affair with second hand shopping has helped assuage some of the guilt I associate with my love of things and the obtainment of said things but the guilt of spending money that for the most part I don't even have cannot be eased by simply buying things used. The only way to cure living beyond my means is to stop doing it. DO NOT SPEND. But even outside of standard consumerism it's difficult. My other interests require a certain amount of cash to make them possible. I have a running list of "when I finally get a job I will do..." Knowing that the job market is in the toilet and the social service positions that I am applying for don't even pay that well I need to keep the spirit of the here and the now alive and so I am trying to find creative ways to make these things happen without the job and thusly without the money.

When I Get A Job I Will...
1. Start back up with yoga.
Solution: Value Village happened to have a few exercise DVDs. I picked up a yoga one for a buck fifty. Drawbacks? Well I don't have a remote for my DVD player and the DVD won't function without one. So I have to set up my 12" computer in my living room and try to follow along while squinting from my downward dog. Verdict: This arrangement keeps the "om" moments a little fewer and farther between and since it's only one DVD there's no variety but it does get the job done.

2. Return to voice lessons / Buy a keyboard
Solution: I have started reserving music rooms at the Seattle Central Library to play piano and learn new music. I also bought an instrumental CD to play in the car (my favorite time to sing). Drawbacks? Ugh... well first there's a volume restriction at the library (go figure) so this keeps the diva from coming out. Second having to reserve a time to be creative can sometimes interfere with said creativity. Also the library is a hassle to get to. Nonetheless it's been nice to have a place to go. Verdict: Will do for now and it has definitely been a great reminder and renewal of an ignored passion.

3. Visit friends in far away places.
Solutions: I have realized that this notion is naive. When I have a job I will no longer have freedom to escape for days at a time. I am rethinking travel and what it means. I was graciously invited along on a road trip next week with my dear neighbor and am in the process of planning an Olympics Peninsula rustic get away. Verdict: Focusing on the company and the sights in my own Washington backyard as opposed to the accommodations and distance away from home is what traveling is now about.

4. Buy a bike with more than 3 speeds.
Solutions: After a little research, well more of a serendipitous meeting with a bike enthusiast, I have found out about a recycled bike shop in Portland that sells used road bikes for $75 and certified and inspected ones for a reasonable $250. Verdict: I still can't afford that. Oh well... in the mean time I can ride around the top of the hill and use my beach cruiser for grocery shopping.


I should use this new problem solving skill to figure out what to do with my post-interview afternoon. What am I going to do today as a little reward for a job medium-well done? As much as I would like to say "Buying that lovely pair of Emma Pillsbury-esque t-strap heels I saw while masochistically window shopping at Nordstrom the other days"... I am going to honor my limitations and act accordingly.
Solution: A rainy day run (let's not forget the marathon is three short months away), followed by a trip down to the 76 station to fill up on gas and practice singing Wicked's "For Good", returning home and lighting a decadent Voluspa candle (a vestige of my time as a sales associate at Anthroplogie), snuggling up and reading my newly arrived Journal of Gerontological Social Work, and topping it all of by cooking an economical dinner with friends.
Verdict: It will feel great to not have the too expensive (albeit completely adorable) pair of shoes tapping, nay stomping, their 3 1/2 inch heels and adjustable ankle straps against my conscious until I go insane which will force me ask the online Magic 8 Ball if I need to return them, which it will inevitably answer in the affirmative (the damn thing always tells me what I don't want to hear). Once I realize they must be returned in order to restore my peace of mind I will have to then make a return trip to Nordstrom tomorrow which quite frankly with all of my thrifty endeavors I do not have the time for.

Now it's time to a hitch the bus home and allow my afternoon of nearly free funtivities to commence.

Respectfully Yours,
OLIT