Gotta Blame it on Something...

It has been 12 days since my last post and I know that this is unacceptable. I try to take responsibility for my wrong doings, I really do, but today as I come to my dear readers in an attempted act of contrition apologetic words escape me. Instead of "please forgive me" all I can hear repeating over and over in my head are the wise words of Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus (or Mili Vanilli for those of you not in the know). These words, a pet maxim of mine, are "... whatever you do, don't put the blame on you. Blame it on the rain."

When I moved to Seattle in the summer of 2009 I was well aware of the city's gloomy reputation but always being one to give the benefit of the doubt I ignored warning and dove in with abounding optimistism about our future togheter. Who needs the sun? Rain boots are hot!

A year later I can honestly say that my time here has been filled with bliss. The only real issues to have arisen stem from the shoddy roads, terrible infrastructure, and clueless motorists that plague the streets rather than the damp climate and my new vitamin D difficiency. But even saints have their limits and these past few weeks known around here as "June-uary" have really taken its toll and left me feeling miserable. It is a drizzle induced despondency that not even a good cathartic cry during Toy Story 3 could ease. Finally today the sun has emerged and we are promised a high of 72 degrees! But instead of sighing with relief and allowing the healing to begin I am filled with panic. Tomorrow we're probably right back where we were yesterday (which was a summer solstice with no sun!!) and so what am I doing inside? I must immediately go hiking, running, kayaking, and sun bathing (these white legs are surely not helping my quest to fight off old maid status!!). At any moment these rays of warmth will disappear indefinitely!




I know I am not alone in these feelings of gloom, doom, and subsequent anxiety. I suppose at some point I will have to weigh out the mental taxation of the weather against my own love of the city and decide "do I stay or do I go"? Until then I must admit that it is nice to have a scape goat in common with the majority of Seattle-ites. Tomorrow when once again I am feeling lathargic, angsty, and self-pitying all at once and someone says "Hey. What's wrong with you?" it's comforting to know that all I need to do is cast a finger towards the sky and say "I'm sorry. It's not me, it's the rain." And the thing about this particular scape goat is that "the rain don't mind and the rain don't care. You gotta blame it on something. So blame it on the rain."

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

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!
OLIT

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.

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,
OLIT

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)

Hopefully,
OLIT