Daily affirmations of a word mercenary
Journalish Category
I like to think of this blog as more than just a journal, but sometimes it’s not. Not at all. Sometimes it’s just all about ME ME ME and what I’ve been up to. Sort of like a journal…ish.
Best way to start a workday:
23
May
2006
In: Journalish
My ears were filled with the my favorite slow jams, freshly delivered this morning via email. I got off the bus, limping a bit from a left-over mysterious foot injury that I somehow suffered this weekend. Suddenly, what is this I see? As I pass the open wound that is Occidental Square, I spot a small wrinkly puppy. I think it might be a sharpei! I stop to cuddle with it, kneeling down and pulling it into my lap. It promptly pees on me. Despite the fact that I will not be able to wear these jeans all week as planned, I am pleased as punch. Perhaps later, some other adorable animal will pee on me!
Last night I fell asleep early, having been carried to bed after Andreas bathed and oiled my feet. He said the process made him feel like Jesus. If he was Jesus, then I was definitely blessed.
It was warm last night, so I woke up and opened the door at one point to let in the night breeze and the sound of our pond’s gurgling fountain. At dawn this morning, I woke up slowly to the sound of water and air — our tiny backdoor wind-chime tinkling away over the sounds of the fish in the pond. I opened my eyes and was overwhelmed by the beauty of the pre-sunrise light and the fluttering flags hanging from the eaves and really, I can’t think of a much more lovely way to start a birthday.
… Except for then rolling over to find the most beautiful, splendid man in bed with me. So splendid, in fact, that he let me wake him up and agreed to go to a morning dance class with me. (”I’m tired,” he slurred. “But I want to be with you.” He was quiet for a while so I thought he’d fallen back asleep. Then his eyes opened and he looked at me and said, “I’ll go.”) Even better: he made me tea! Then he drove us to a dance class where we both woke up our brains, bodies, spirits and emotions (it’s a NIA thing) before trundling over to Victrola for morning beverages from my (yes, my) barista.
My wonderful beloved caught the bus to work and I drove home slowly in the morning light. I got arrived home to a flood of emails — love and photos and mp3s and happy thoughts. Then the phone rang — first my father, who verbally patted me on the head as I recounted freaking out about my book yesterday, and then my mother, who wished both a happy birth day, reminding me that as her only child, May 16th isn’t only the only day that I was birthed — it was the only day she’s ever given birth.
How am I so blessed? It’s so much that all I can do is sit here and cry (sob!) over how much abundance there is in my life. Even my problems are non-issues of blessed abundance. Sometimes I kid myself and think that I somehow earned this amazing thing that is my life; that I’ve worked hard and that I somehow deserve it, or am entitled to my own joy.
This is, of course, rock solid bullshit. I live a blessed, charmed life surrounded by some of the most amazing, beautiful people in one of the most amazing, beautiful places. 31 years of it. I’m a bit overwhelmed by it all sometimes (hence the sobbing with joy — who knew I could be so maudlin?), but mostly I’m just appreciative. Thank you all for being a part of my life.
Pink Seattleites
15
May
2006
In: Journalish
We had a wonderful hot sunny weekend in Seattle, and although Andreas and I were both up to our necks in work (me: book editing; he: studying for his anatomy class), we spent a fair amount of time lounging in our backyard. At one point, the ever-lascivious wife, I encouraged him to ditch his shirt so I could ogle him and he could work on ye olde base tan. (”Take! It! Off! Take! It! Off!”) He was laser-beam focused on his studies, but obliged. Sadly, he then went back to being laser-beam focused and sat studying topless for so long that his pasty white Seattle skin got completely singed. We’re talking so burnt that the poor dear is taking pain killers and applying cold, wet washcloths to get some relief.
I feel sort of responsible, but at the same time, he promised to let me help him when it starts peeling (mm: peeling skin! my favorite!) so maybe it’s ok.
I am definition of summer-anticipatory ADD today. Can’t! Focus! It’s sunny outside and the party this weekend was just the most spectacular dip-of-the-toe into all the fun, flirty, belly-laughter and festival wonderment that make up my favorite summer moments. Now I have all these things to do (day job! editing book! remembering to change my pants!) and all I want to do is run around squealing and dancing and hooping and gossiping and hugging and! And! And! WHO WANTS TO GO RIDE BIKES!
See? Total ADD. Check back with me in October. My mental accuity will have returned by then.
Only two weeks left!
2
May
2006
In: Journalish
This is your two-week warning: my birthday is May 16th. I am a consummate materialist and if you like reading Electrolicious then, well, you should buy me a present. There! I said it! HA!
High school theater
29
Apr
2006
In: Journalish
Last night Andreas and I went over to Bainbridge to see my 17-year-old cousin in a musical at my old high school. For a nostalgia junky like myself, it was an awesome walk down memory lane. My teenaged life revolved around musical theater, and it was such a tasty trip to be back in my old theater. I had my first kiss on that stage, while playing Maybelle in The Pirates of Penzance. I could list the other firsts and memories and everything else for days but I’ll spare you. Needless to say, I spent the evening in the non-home place that had the most influence on me as a teenager, the epicenter of my adolescent development. It was sort of intoxicating.
The play was tons of fun, and afterwards my cousin summarized why theater is such a great thing for teenagers. “It’s like I get to be an asshole?” he said. “But it’s totally not real? But it’s fun!” I was reminded of when, my sophomore year, I had a musical number where I was instructed to act sort of slutty. I was completely virginal at the time, and felt the need to prepare my parents for opening night. “There’s this scene?” I warned them. “And I’m supposed to be sort of flirty? But that’s not really me? It’s just acting.” And you know what? I certainly wasn’t acting like a slut in my day-to-day life, so that stage was pretty much the only place to be one. That said, none of the kids last night overacted as painfully as I used to — lucky for them.
My cousin was great and the play was so high energy. It was awesome. I realize now that family friends came to see my plays in high school not because they were so into seeing me (although sure: that too) but because a high school musical is a great way to get an insane hit of teenage energy. It’s hard to go more balls-out insane than a dance number with a bunch of 15-year-olds jacked on hormones and the attention of a room full of people. It was awesome!
I managed to avoid my high school drama teacher, too. I never got along very well with him back in the day, and he seems to be the same arrogant gas-bag he always was. I say this as an accomplished arrogant gas-bag myself — we know our own, and there’s only enough oxygen for one of us at a time in any given conversation. Since we were on his turf, I demurred. Andreas was relieved, as I had delivered a whithering tirade earlier in the evening about how I dropped out of my last play in high school because I got along so poorly with the drama teacher. I was an opinionated picky bitch even then.
Perhaps my favorite moment of the night was when one of my cousin’s fellow cast-members, an adorably effete boy with bleached hair and an affected lisp, sauntered past my family as we stood gathered around my cousin after the show. “Doesn’t Austin look great in make-up?” my cousin’s friend squealed, and my aunt didn’t miss a beat before answering, “Of course he does.”
Bits and Pieces, the revenge
20
Apr
2006
In: Journalish
• It sure is cool to meet people who are more interesting than I am.
• Tomorrow, I am waking up and going to NIA, and then Andreas and I are driving to the Oregon coast for the weekend. Doesn’t that sound nice?
• I love that Pioneer Square has a public space where your conversation is perfectly masked by the loud sound of water crashing over rocks. It’s awesome for confidential meetings.
• My book is due to to the publisher in two months. I am ahead of schedule. This is how I like to do things.
• Sometimes I think I’m slowly painting myself into a corner where the only option is to start my own business because my standards are so ridiculously picky that I can’t do anything else. (”I can’t work under these conditions, people — there are no flying monkeys! I HAD FLYING MONKEYS IN MY CONTRACT!“) I’m not sure if this is a good thing or the road to brain-crushing anxiety.
• I haven’t seen a single movie in the theater since I left Movies.com three months ago. Huh!
Bits & Pieces
18
Apr
2006
In: Journalish
• Today I felt like I’d been guzzling caffeine all day, even though I hadn’t. At one point I IMed Andreas shouting, “MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE A FOREST OF EXCLAMATION POINTS!”
• Today we received our invitation for my mother’s wedding/commitment ceremony this summer. The invitations prominently feature a big yoni. Of course!
• Tonight Dre and I had planned a special date to celebrate his raise/promotion at work. The first restaurant was closed on Monday/Tuesdays, second was shut down completely, and ultimately we ended up at an ambiance-free falafel shop on The Ave, and I was so hungry that I forgot to raise my $4 falafel to toast Andreas’ success. Oh well.
• Sometimes I think my constant chatter is a weapon of sorts. I can set it on stun and just blast away and whoever gets caught in the crossfire just sits there sort of stupefied, mouthing “Does it ever stop?” Even Andreas is stunned at times, and he’s had eight years to get used to it.
• … GOLDEN CRUMBLIES!
Girly explosion
12
Apr
2006
In: Journalish
There was a brief sunbreak around lunchtime and I had a phone call to make, so I headed outside. Suddenly, I found myself in Westlake, Seattle’s shopping district. The next thing I knew, I was trying on bras at Victoria’s Secret (so unlike me). As I stood at the counter, I asked the salesgirl if she had any unbranded bags. Did I really want to show back up at work with a pink striped frou-frou VICTORIA’S SECRET bag? But no, that’s all they had.
Then, since I was already under the black cloud of femmey-ness, I went to Sephora and bought some sparkly purple eyeshade, blush, lip gloss, and eye liner. Hell: if I’m going to have an embarassingly girly inadvertant shopping trip, I might as well do it up.
Then I slunk back to work before something equally uncharactaristic could happen to me, like, say, an enormous block of pink, glittery, underwired ice falling from the sky and killing me.
March, you’re fired
28
Mar
2006
In: Journalish
I have had a shit-stick of a month. A short summary: I fainted, my grandmother died, a bunch of ravers got executed by a psychopath, and then this morning a cat committed suicide on the front tire of my car. Gato, why would you run into a four lane street full of traffic? The road was packed! What were you thinking? More importantly, I’m sorry.
Wake me up when it’s April, please.
Best way to start a workday:
23 May 2006 In: JournalishMy ears were filled with the my favorite slow jams, freshly delivered this morning via email. I got off the bus, limping a bit from a left-over mysterious foot injury that I somehow suffered this weekend. Suddenly, what is this I see? As I pass the open wound that is Occidental Square, I spot a small wrinkly puppy. I think it might be a sharpei! I stop to cuddle with it, kneeling down and pulling it into my lap. It promptly pees on me. Despite the fact that I will not be able to wear these jeans all week as planned, I am pleased as punch. Perhaps later, some other adorable animal will pee on me!
Last night I fell asleep early, having been carried to bed after Andreas bathed and oiled my feet. He said the process made him feel like Jesus. If he was Jesus, then I was definitely blessed.
It was warm last night, so I woke up and opened the door at one point to let in the night breeze and the sound of our pond’s gurgling fountain. At dawn this morning, I woke up slowly to the sound of water and air — our tiny backdoor wind-chime tinkling away over the sounds of the fish in the pond. I opened my eyes and was overwhelmed by the beauty of the pre-sunrise light and the fluttering flags hanging from the eaves and really, I can’t think of a much more lovely way to start a birthday.
… Except for then rolling over to find the most beautiful, splendid man in bed with me. So splendid, in fact, that he let me wake him up and agreed to go to a morning dance class with me. (”I’m tired,” he slurred. “But I want to be with you.” He was quiet for a while so I thought he’d fallen back asleep. Then his eyes opened and he looked at me and said, “I’ll go.”) Even better: he made me tea! Then he drove us to a dance class where we both woke up our brains, bodies, spirits and emotions (it’s a NIA thing) before trundling over to Victrola for morning beverages from my (yes, my) barista.
My wonderful beloved caught the bus to work and I drove home slowly in the morning light. I got arrived home to a flood of emails — love and photos and mp3s and happy thoughts. Then the phone rang — first my father, who verbally patted me on the head as I recounted freaking out about my book yesterday, and then my mother, who wished both a happy birth day, reminding me that as her only child, May 16th isn’t only the only day that I was birthed — it was the only day she’s ever given birth.
How am I so blessed? It’s so much that all I can do is sit here and cry (sob!) over how much abundance there is in my life. Even my problems are non-issues of blessed abundance. Sometimes I kid myself and think that I somehow earned this amazing thing that is my life; that I’ve worked hard and that I somehow deserve it, or am entitled to my own joy.
This is, of course, rock solid bullshit. I live a blessed, charmed life surrounded by some of the most amazing, beautiful people in one of the most amazing, beautiful places. 31 years of it. I’m a bit overwhelmed by it all sometimes (hence the sobbing with joy — who knew I could be so maudlin?), but mostly I’m just appreciative. Thank you all for being a part of my life.
Pink Seattleites
15 May 2006 In: JournalishWe had a wonderful hot sunny weekend in Seattle, and although Andreas and I were both up to our necks in work (me: book editing; he: studying for his anatomy class), we spent a fair amount of time lounging in our backyard. At one point, the ever-lascivious wife, I encouraged him to ditch his shirt so I could ogle him and he could work on ye olde base tan. (”Take! It! Off! Take! It! Off!”) He was laser-beam focused on his studies, but obliged. Sadly, he then went back to being laser-beam focused and sat studying topless for so long that his pasty white Seattle skin got completely singed. We’re talking so burnt that the poor dear is taking pain killers and applying cold, wet washcloths to get some relief.
I feel sort of responsible, but at the same time, he promised to let me help him when it starts peeling (mm: peeling skin! my favorite!) so maybe it’s ok.
I am definition of summer-anticipatory ADD today. Can’t! Focus! It’s sunny outside and the party this weekend was just the most spectacular dip-of-the-toe into all the fun, flirty, belly-laughter and festival wonderment that make up my favorite summer moments. Now I have all these things to do (day job! editing book! remembering to change my pants!) and all I want to do is run around squealing and dancing and hooping and gossiping and hugging and! And! And! WHO WANTS TO GO RIDE BIKES!
See? Total ADD. Check back with me in October. My mental accuity will have returned by then.
Only two weeks left!
2 May 2006 In: JournalishThis is your two-week warning: my birthday is May 16th. I am a consummate materialist and if you like reading Electrolicious then, well, you should buy me a present. There! I said it! HA!
High school theater
29 Apr 2006 In: JournalishLast night Andreas and I went over to Bainbridge to see my 17-year-old cousin in a musical at my old high school. For a nostalgia junky like myself, it was an awesome walk down memory lane. My teenaged life revolved around musical theater, and it was such a tasty trip to be back in my old theater. I had my first kiss on that stage, while playing Maybelle in The Pirates of Penzance. I could list the other firsts and memories and everything else for days but I’ll spare you. Needless to say, I spent the evening in the non-home place that had the most influence on me as a teenager, the epicenter of my adolescent development. It was sort of intoxicating.
The play was tons of fun, and afterwards my cousin summarized why theater is such a great thing for teenagers. “It’s like I get to be an asshole?” he said. “But it’s totally not real? But it’s fun!” I was reminded of when, my sophomore year, I had a musical number where I was instructed to act sort of slutty. I was completely virginal at the time, and felt the need to prepare my parents for opening night. “There’s this scene?” I warned them. “And I’m supposed to be sort of flirty? But that’s not really me? It’s just acting.” And you know what? I certainly wasn’t acting like a slut in my day-to-day life, so that stage was pretty much the only place to be one. That said, none of the kids last night overacted as painfully as I used to — lucky for them.
My cousin was great and the play was so high energy. It was awesome. I realize now that family friends came to see my plays in high school not because they were so into seeing me (although sure: that too) but because a high school musical is a great way to get an insane hit of teenage energy. It’s hard to go more balls-out insane than a dance number with a bunch of 15-year-olds jacked on hormones and the attention of a room full of people. It was awesome!
I managed to avoid my high school drama teacher, too. I never got along very well with him back in the day, and he seems to be the same arrogant gas-bag he always was. I say this as an accomplished arrogant gas-bag myself — we know our own, and there’s only enough oxygen for one of us at a time in any given conversation. Since we were on his turf, I demurred. Andreas was relieved, as I had delivered a whithering tirade earlier in the evening about how I dropped out of my last play in high school because I got along so poorly with the drama teacher. I was an opinionated picky bitch even then.
Perhaps my favorite moment of the night was when one of my cousin’s fellow cast-members, an adorably effete boy with bleached hair and an affected lisp, sauntered past my family as we stood gathered around my cousin after the show. “Doesn’t Austin look great in make-up?” my cousin’s friend squealed, and my aunt didn’t miss a beat before answering, “Of course he does.”
Bits and Pieces, the revenge
20 Apr 2006 In: Journalish• It sure is cool to meet people who are more interesting than I am.
• Tomorrow, I am waking up and going to NIA, and then Andreas and I are driving to the Oregon coast for the weekend. Doesn’t that sound nice?
• I love that Pioneer Square has a public space where your conversation is perfectly masked by the loud sound of water crashing over rocks. It’s awesome for confidential meetings.
• My book is due to to the publisher in two months. I am ahead of schedule. This is how I like to do things.
• Sometimes I think I’m slowly painting myself into a corner where the only option is to start my own business because my standards are so ridiculously picky that I can’t do anything else. (”I can’t work under these conditions, people — there are no flying monkeys! I HAD FLYING MONKEYS IN MY CONTRACT!“) I’m not sure if this is a good thing or the road to brain-crushing anxiety.
• I haven’t seen a single movie in the theater since I left Movies.com three months ago. Huh!
Bits & Pieces
18 Apr 2006 In: Journalish• Today I felt like I’d been guzzling caffeine all day, even though I hadn’t. At one point I IMed Andreas shouting, “MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE A FOREST OF EXCLAMATION POINTS!”
• Today we received our invitation for my mother’s wedding/commitment ceremony this summer. The invitations prominently feature a big yoni. Of course!
• Tonight Dre and I had planned a special date to celebrate his raise/promotion at work. The first restaurant was closed on Monday/Tuesdays, second was shut down completely, and ultimately we ended up at an ambiance-free falafel shop on The Ave, and I was so hungry that I forgot to raise my $4 falafel to toast Andreas’ success. Oh well.
• Sometimes I think my constant chatter is a weapon of sorts. I can set it on stun and just blast away and whoever gets caught in the crossfire just sits there sort of stupefied, mouthing “Does it ever stop?” Even Andreas is stunned at times, and he’s had eight years to get used to it.
• … GOLDEN CRUMBLIES!
Girly explosion
12 Apr 2006 In: JournalishThere was a brief sunbreak around lunchtime and I had a phone call to make, so I headed outside. Suddenly, I found myself in Westlake, Seattle’s shopping district. The next thing I knew, I was trying on bras at Victoria’s Secret (so unlike me). As I stood at the counter, I asked the salesgirl if she had any unbranded bags. Did I really want to show back up at work with a pink striped frou-frou VICTORIA’S SECRET bag? But no, that’s all they had.
Then, since I was already under the black cloud of femmey-ness, I went to Sephora and bought some sparkly purple eyeshade, blush, lip gloss, and eye liner. Hell: if I’m going to have an embarassingly girly inadvertant shopping trip, I might as well do it up.
Then I slunk back to work before something equally uncharactaristic could happen to me, like, say, an enormous block of pink, glittery, underwired ice falling from the sky and killing me.
March, you’re fired
28 Mar 2006 In: JournalishI have had a shit-stick of a month. A short summary: I fainted, my grandmother died, a bunch of ravers got executed by a psychopath, and then this morning a cat committed suicide on the front tire of my car. Gato, why would you run into a four lane street full of traffic? The road was packed! What were you thinking? More importantly, I’m sorry.
Wake me up when it’s April, please.
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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