The one in which she ponders sacrilege.

miniature sun-room + Riley's hideout      

our 'vintage'  O'Keefe + Merrit stove  

house + side yard  

living room before we lived here* + my design delimma

The fireplace is huge.  No, huge.  I love it.  I hate, hate, hate the brass.  I also don't like that it has red brick on the bottom + white brick on the top.  Last, it has been stained messily.  So far, my research + time/money availabilities tell me that the best course of action is to paint the whole thing white for now.  And, I've got a cream for the walls.  Inspiration found here.  Thank-you, thisyounghouse.com!  Apparently, I can paint that brass door thingy?

So? Best case scenario?  Or, sacrilege?

*This photo is from when we looked at the place, 

so that's not our stuff. We would have liked 

to have that chair in the corner, though.  

pieces + light

blue heron + ghettoasis

I'm pretty sure the heron is out of focus, but this is on our way out of our 'hood.  Note contrast of waterfall/nature with trash & gang graffiti reflection.  That's why we love it here!  

Seriously, we love it here.  Today, we were at the gym (I know, two times now.), and again, I just realized how I love being in this little urban community.  Five or ten minutes from downtown but still with all this nature.  I can overlook the occasional tire, shopping cart (or phone booth, as we now have it) in the creek.  I like the paradox of it.  

Reppin' for the ghettoasis, 

 

.

bog of eternal stench + b's dimples

(B + dimple + The question was: Is your wife the #1 or #2 most beautiful and intelligent human you have ever met or laid eyes on?  Either that or "in a minute." )

On the best sleep ever & the philosophy of dogs: I slept fabulously warm and peaceful last night.  Moses very much wanted to stay up to watch the Inaugural balls on cnn.com, so I let him sleep with us; usually, he's kenneled at night, as he's not to be trusted.  All of our animals slept with us last night.  It is was very warm. 

Moses has somehow beat Preston in cuddly-naturedness; however, Preston remains my favorite to sit with, to sleep by as far as the animals go.  He feels more like a friend.  

Is there something different about large dogs?  We love all of our pets very much, but to us, Preston seems like a person.  The little dogs seem like wonderful little dogs.  In spite of this difference in "humanness," or maybe because of it, I have to say that the little dogs do seem much more 'present."  Especially Sam.  Sam is always in the moment.   This is not so with Preston, in whose face I swear I can see worry, eager anticipation, and cognition.  Sometimes premeditation.  Read: When they leave, I will turn over the trash can. But not until they leave.

Intriguing + even paradoxical how that added sense of humanity seems to steal from presence; or is it that at higher levels of consciousness, we must choose our presence?  Does the element of conscious choice make it better, deeper, richer? 

On the horrific aromas of youknowwhat: Speaking of deeper: The down side of his cuddly nature is that Moses frequently smells like ####.  We've been wondering, what would make something so small evoke such horrific aromas out of both ends? 

Intrigued, B went all Inspector Gadget & began scoping out his backyard manners.  And before I tell you this, just don't judge me.  I mean, we've been busy.  We have a ton of er, leaves that we have never ever raked, piling (exponentially) against the back fence.  

Leaf pile?  Turns out, not just leaves.   To Moses, a gold mine.  If gold is ####.*  

Oh. My. God.

On the splendor of morning & the travails of a failed perfectionist:   On a brighter note, I'm writing this in the morning which means I'm in good spirits.  Morning is a wonderful time of day for me; it is when I feel most peaceful and centered.  I'm hoping to get back to waking up (and getting up) at 4:30 so that I can have as much morning as possible before I'm off to the light of day.

Today, I actually rolled out of bed at 5-ish, slightly lethargic from staying up to watch Inaugural stuff.  (Fighting urge to go to DC + hand out Red Bulls to the Obamas.)  

As usual, B and I did a little meditating and reading.  We read a passage from Eckhart Tolle about ego.  This was good for me, because my attitude about work has been rather anxious.  I don't believe it has anything to do with my work as much as me being VERY unbalanced toward work.  I've been trying to balance, and in many important ways I have. It can be extremely difficult for me to keep work in perspective; it is my Achille's heel, partly because of the love of what I do making it so easy for what I do to become ALL I do or think about.

When it comes to flow-inducing states such as this (work, school), my perfectionist side kicks into full, all-or-nothing gear.  It is difficult for me to say, "It's fine like this."  And then leave it.  Leave it.  Step away.  Do something else.  Live your life.  I find this counter-intuitive to the degree that when I'm working on it, I tend to have escape fantasies of being a stay at home dog-mom.  They tell me this isn't  a real job.  

*Flash-back to very unfortunate face lick.

The one in which her brother turns fourteen.

(mmm...dark chocolate cake, home made)

Yes, I have a fourteen-year old brother. My dad has been raising children for ninety-seven years.

(fabulous step-mom lighting up the cake.)

The past couple of years, G has had a family birthday gathering at Dave and Busters. Of course, we love this. It's a kids' party, but you get to eat food other than pizza; and, you can have a Guinness! Or, Baily's and coffee, as it may be.

(grown-up "cake." see the frothy goodness?)

(does anyone actually win anything here?)

We very much enjoyed our time with G (+ the family), who has unlimited texting now (as does our twelve year old sister). It is fun that they are getting to an age where we they are starting to communicate like grown ups...Of course we're talking about texting: Maybe I'm communicating like a teenager?!  IDK.  TTYL.*

(Gateway drug to vegas, I think.)

*Translation: 

I don't know.  Talk to you later.  

Or, I'm also texting someone else more 

important than you and don't have time 

to spell your words out, loser.

I hadn't been to the dentist in six years.

(i love ducks + geese.  don't know why.  at park.)

Okay, seven.

I know.

I have had some pain in a molar: Can you say root canal? Well, you don't need to, because my teeth are just fine! Mostly. The pain was a little mystery crack, easily fixed. 

Essentially, I went to the baby dentist. They have Otis Spunkmeyer cookies, fountains and soothing music. Plus, everyone treats you like a bff, and you get your very own t.v.! I watched the food network, which we don't get, not having tv and all. Then, I slid down a rainbow into a meadow of unicorn's breath.  Or, maybe that was the laughing gas.  Anyways, it was dreamy.

(b being all kinds of present + some charming old stairs.)

Then, we went to a park and took some pictures. Some good, some bad; I can't always figure out how to change what it is I'm focusing on. I'm a little confused about aperture as well. There were some times that the light was just breathtaking; however, the photo came out either super dark or super bright. I believe aperture has something to do with light? It seems I could change this and get the beautiful shot that my eyes saw into the eyes of the camera.

(goose @ river in the park.)

After that, I was at the gym (yes, I went inside!) watching Oprah, and it occurred to me: Tomorrow, Barack Obama is going to become our president. It is a work day for me, in that I don't teach class but get to work on all the work I need to work on; we'll see how much work I get done. I believe some will be surprised by the heightened emotions of this historic, historic day. I feel teary just thinking about it, and that is just me; I truly cannot manage to mentally put myself in the place of any of my friends and co-workers who are African American.  The emotional impact this must have upon their entire families must be indescribable.  

Let's face it, sometimes the rest of us take it for granted that the effects of racial discrimination are not a thing of the past.  It took teaching and living in a diverse, urban area for me to really and truly get (to the point where I am now, that is) the cross generational rippling effects of slavery, pre-civil rights, racism. This is momentous, and merely the beginning. 

MLK day obviously held special significance, both because of the racial barrier our country busted through but also because we have a service-minded president again (Kennedy: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.").

It is beautiful. It feels beautiful. No one can stop us now. Peace and beauty and goodness win, all the time. If they aren't winning, the game isn't over. I can barely believe we are where we are. I feel so very blessed.

(gang of geese.  crips, i think.)

  

Makes me think of my attitude a couple of years ago, and less, to be honest.  I've joked that when I travel overseas, I'll wear an "I heart Canada" shirt.  And yes, I'm ashamed of some of the things our country's leadership has done.  But now, I'm also a little ashamed by my ship-jumping thinking.  I'm so proud to be American, because of the ideals inherent to our country.  Because of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Liberty Bell.  Instead of wanting to jump ship when things like corporate government, corrupt government and shoddy leadership in general happen, the person I want to be doesn't jump ship but gears up in a positive & productive way.  

In conclusion, a recovering fair-weathered friend will soon proudly travel as an "out" American citizen.

Another thought occurred to me at the gym:  I don't know if I told you, but I just cut out four hours of my work week.  This means that on Tues/Thurs I can leave at 3:45 instead of 5:45.  That's huge!  While watching Oprah on the elliptical, I thought, "I can be here Tuesdays and Thrusdays by 4:00 to watch Oprah!  Holy heck, that's exciting.

Barack Obama, actually going inside the gym, no root canals.  Somebody pinch me.

The one in which she has two comments and a question.

Comment number one: 

Yesterday, we purchased tickets to Amsterdam/Paris.  Yes, Amsterdam & Paris!  Me!  This will be my 2nd international trip; I suspect I love to travel.  There will be much walking, coffee, wine, cheese and pastries. And coffee. And pastries.  And pastries.  In eight weeks, we depart.   Of course, I have to lose 10 pounds before we go so I can gain 10 pounds when we are there, thus breaking even. In sort of a fat way, que sera, sera. 

We're going to Amsterdam first. Basic plan there: Ride a bike, drink a crapload of coffee next to the beautiful canals, soak up old-world charm, experience the canals from a boat ride, somehow try to handle the emotional overload it will be to walk through Anne Frank's secret opening bookcase, to stand in Van Gogh's museum, to be inside Rembrant's room. 

Then, a four hour train ride to Paris. 

Ah, Paris.  We'll be there a little longer.  We are buying a book, 24 Walking Tours of Paris; of the travel books we have reviewed, it seems to capture the essence of "soaking up" a place rather than rushing through an exhausting number of sights.  

Of course, I plan to see some key pieces at the Lourve; more importantly, however, I look forward to seeing up close much of the artwork I have studied in all of my art courses.  The place for this is the Musee D'orsay.   I cannot imagine what that will feel like.  Other than this, yes, I'd like to see the biggies, but I want to soak up the place more than anything.  When I sink into my soul's desires, I find that I'm not as much of a sight seer as a soaker-upper.  Take some pictures.  Read.  Write.  Sip.  Watch.  Soak.

And did you notice the 'we' that I speak of? Yes, B is coming with me!  For something like Europe, of course I would have liked for Bruce to go, given the amount of money in our bank account means we haven't done stuff  like this a lot (once!).  It had appeared we would not have common vacation for a year; luckily,  B was able to work it out. 

As more saavy travelers may already know, it was the SAME price to take B and go during spring break together that it was for me to go in the summer alone. So, if you're thinking of traveling, I am telling you that you can fly into Amsterdam and out of Paris (with a DIRECT flight into DFW, if you are a neighbor!) for under $700. Under $700! 

I am looking forward to sharing my first trip to Europe with Bruce, who lived in France for a little while and who also speaks French! 

As for my little solo travel bug, I will scratch this itch at a later date. I'm thinking of either going to NYC for a weekend and seeing Billy Elliot on Broadway, or to San Francisco, or to Chicago, or somewhere in Florida to watch birds (loser, I know).  I'd really like to go to LA and see Ellen. I love Ellen to pieces; But, I don't know if I want to dance in the crowd without a buddy.  Do you want to go with me?

Comment number two: 

For a few years, I've been eying digital SLR cameras. I've watched them come down in price as I've realized how much I like taking pictures. The camera I've had for years is great, however the shutter speed should be called the shutter ohmygodhowcanyoubesoslow. I love it, though for what it is. I thought I might enjoy taking pictures, and this camera showed me that I was right. Eva at girly-bits.com summarizes my feelings on photography so perfectly here. She's right, for those of us who love the arts but are not, well, fabulous painters or composers or architects, photographer is the great equalizer. It is not too hard to both love the process and also to get some satisfaction out of the product.  Eva, like several of the other bloggers I frequent, is a fabulous photographer. 

Product aside, photography is the consciousness maker. I love the idea of framing every piece of the universe in it's best light, of slowing down and capturing the details of a moment. It beckons presence, which can be slow to manifest in real time. :)

I purchased the Nikon D40. But, now I'm thinking I should switch to the Canon Rebel (the 2008 one).  People seem to think Canons often have better lenses.  Also, the camera itself has the "live view," so one can look through the LCD and not only the view finder.  Mark of a novice to want that, I hear,  but I'm not sure I'm ready to let it go completely.  Right now, I am like a baby deer, trying to figure out what all of the acronyms stand for and how to make things not fuzzy.  I suspect (hope) the learning curve is a steep one.

And a Question: 

I've been knitting.  I like it!  But after I work on a piece, I always feel compelled to unravel it and start over.  It progressed to a premeditated act: "Ooh, I should sit down and knit something and then take it apart."  

Why is that?

ostriches, suze orman + the virgin mary

Ah, budgets. Schmudgets. We like to take the ostrich approach. What, we have no money? Again? Wha happened?

The ginormity of B's med school debt gives money that fuzzy, abstract feeling to us. If our budget were a modern art gallery, B and I might be standing in front of any given piece scratching our heads. "Yes, I think it's a dollar. No, maybe a goat? Do you see the likeness of Virgin Mary? Yeah, there's the nose, and, eh, maybe a goat? I don't know, let's go out to eat."

I don't think Suze Orman would look puzzled at our budget museum, but there would be a look. I would not let her in there, you know: I have the fear. She's on Oprah today. Reppin' the Oprah groupies, I've been checking in on her Best Life 2009 challenge thingy. Today was about finances; financial badyouknowwhat Suze said, well, a lot of things. An eight-month emergency fund, she says. Talk about overwhelming. Has she gotten tougher? Eight months of expenses? EIGHT?! What happened to three?

Recession, yo: That's a little abstract to me, too. Anyone else secretly wondering, "So how bad does it get? And what does that look like? What about people like me who think a portfolio is a place where you keep your pretty pictures? Should I be bracing myself, or is this more of a stocks and employment thing? Will this be like the depression, and what was the depression really like? How do you know when your'e in or out of one?" Man, I almost went into ostrich mode just reading this stuff online. Make it go away. After I finished breathing in an out of a paper bag, I got to thinking about her much less overwhelming baby-step challenge:

For just one day, do not spend any money on anything.
For just one week, do not use a credit card.
For just one month, do not eat out at a restaurant.

Hmph. I think I could do the first two okay, but man, I love me some eating out. Mmm, I'm thinking of spinach crepes right now from Cafe Brazil. With rosemary potatoes. And tabasco. Or, the sour creamy cheesy potatoes like my grandma makes at Thanksgiving. Oooh, or Bolsa's Twig and Branch pizza with a glass of cabernet, ah. A month?! We'll see. Clearly, I'm not committed yet.

Twitter Update: I don't get it. I just don't. What IS it?!

What is Twitter?

Why are people tweeting about Twitter? Well, don't know what it is either, but I just signed up. As far as I can tell, Twitter can wipe your you know what and help you blow your nose. People are loving it.

So, I signed up. I will let you know if it is as spiritual as they say.

Yes, I think I feel something.

वर्क आईटी.

Playing with bacteria-laden ball thingy dug up in back yard.
Ready for my close-up.

Here is my ball. Hint. Hint.

Preston doesn't get the air time he used to, now that we are a four pet (holy cow) family. We spent some quality time together outside on Saturday for a little photo shoot. He was faaabulous.

I don't know why my title is in another language. Well, now you know how to spell "work it," in whatsitscalled.

Reminds me of back in the day:
i think my dog is a hippie
morning ritual
awwww

new years in the ghettoasis

Either I'm crazy again or living on the creek must make sounds (gunfire) much louder. And by much louder, I mean, "Are you *&#$*&^ kidding me?" On New Year's Eve, you would not believe the war zone sounds. Yeah, some (most) of that is fireworks, and yeah, only a few (one) were automatic weapons (the hell?!). Come on now.

Although it would be infinitely cooler, I'm not generally the cool-who-cares girl; I'm the one sleeping on the floor of my bedroom because the bullets have less entry points in there. I'm the girl that googles 'tazers,' 'how to tell gunfire from fireworks.'

And much, much worse; it's a devastating downward spiral, really. A harrowing tale at times. Some might say in a benign way; I'm more apt to call it a rocking back and forth, beat my head against a wall, wish I could go back in time and not know kind of a way. I've been down the google image search rabbit hole hell with teratomas, parasites...Not sure where the ideas come from. Karma? The devil himself?

My neighbors were not afraid of Satan at all, it seemed. I half expected them to be out talking about what I can only assume were the Sharks and the Jets outfitted with 21st century weaponry while all the police in the town were at a convention together. Nope. No one writing panicked comments on the message board, either. Even when we did get a knock on the door, it was not for war stories. Kyle across the street brought over black eyed pea soup that would bring tears to your eyes.

Ah, another day in our ghettoasis. I love it more all the time, but it is definitely different from Uptown. And Kansas.

I still love you, Oak Cliff; but I don't have to like you sometimes.