I Am a Crafty Girl

I started a sewing challenge with my girl Teen when she got a sewing machine for Christmas.  I, too, have a sewing machine and use it WAY TOO rarely.  We wanted to start with an easy but useful project: a pillow.

What's in a pillow? (besides stuffing)  It's four seams at the same length with a 90 degree angle and some shite stuffed inside 'till it's comfy.  But if you're *making* it, it's gotta look cute and not crafty.  I have two pillows that are hand made and look crafty, but maaayyyybeee not so cute....  They were purchased at a free-trade market; the big one is super comfy and the little one is actually a quillo (think Poppel but a pillow/quilt combo) hand made by Amish peoples.  And while they're superbly made, they're just not really my style.

I wanted something that went with my mint-green and wicker sectional, was comfy, looked modern, and was cheap.  Not as easy as I thought.  I used the fabric from an oversized Ikea pillow I purchased at least 6 years ago (white velvet-like fabric).  It was slightly stained, and even after a bleach wash looked a little worse for wear, but it was free.  I purchased a 15" pillow form from Micheal's with a 50% off coupon for about $6.  I deconstructed a skirt with embroidered birds and flowers to appliqué to the pillow only to find that it all looked HORRID together.  This is when the project stalled.  I had a white velvet case sewn on 3 sides with some stains...

Teen had finished her project after finding some great printed fabrics (Ikea, I think).  Her two pillows looked lovely and I was totally jealous.  Then stuff happened (like the Luau) and I had to put my sewing machine out of sight, therefor putting it out of mind.  I had found a craft website who had dedicated February as Pillow Month.  The inspiration was nice, but it's a lot of quilting which is a bit above my project commitment level.  I still had my heart set on appliqué, though.  I wanted a peacock, or at least a bird, with colors that coordinated but maybe not matched, and perhaps some texture.

Eventually I settled on the cheapest of all fabrics: felt.  At 29cents for an 8 1/2"x11" sheet, felt in all colors is cheap and readily available.  I also purchased some iron-on fabric adhesive to make my life even easier.  I researched modern shaped birds that are, admittedly, ubiquitous.  I designed a little birdie based on a few things I saw, put in about an hour or two of work, and my three-seamed square turned in to a pillow before my eyes.

I made it to go with my mint-green couch, but with the paisley-textured felt of the body, it REALLY works with the blue mini-chairs I acquired when Pocket moved to RI.

It feels great to finish this project, and I'm looking forward to the next.  I really don't mind if it takes me a month or two to finish it as long as it turns out as nice.  :-)

Two Homes, One Heart

So this is a blog about life and love and dealing with problems and this post is about all three.  I just haven't posted something of such a personal nature in a while and thought it should come with a disclaimer, as it's a bit of a shift in gears.  (Get it?  Because of the car posts...)

I've often joked that I have a home in the city and a home in the country.  Now that My Runner has purchased his own house, that feels even more true.  But the reality is that I have an apartment in the city, and My Runner invites me to visit his home.  That's a subtle but emotionally important distinction.

 I know he's excited to have his own place, and settle into it.  "Hell, *I'm* excited for him that he gets the chance to live on his own, set things up the way HE wants it, and make all the home decisions.  I know it was a great growing experience for me, and I hope he finds benefit in it as well.  He has asked my advice on some things, but ultimately has made his own choices.  I've helped (or attempted to help) on some of the projects around his house.  However, there's a line that I worry I keep crossing.

I'm an over-share-er.  You want to borrow something I have, then help yourself.  Need extra storage?  I've got space.  Like my sweater?  Sure you can wear it Wednesday.  That's me.  I generally don't get annoyed until someone, say, borrows my underwear or has sex in my bed (ok, this was ONE college roommate, but yes, both happened).  And even then, honestly, the right person asking in the right situation I'd be like, well ok, go for it.

I don't always realize other people have different boundaries than I do.  I try to be considerate, but because it wouldn't occur to me that, say, leaving earrings on the table or a coat in the closet might be an encroachment, I just don't think about the earrings I left on the table.  I think My Runner doesn't mind one thing here or there every now and then.  But because I've been staying at his house so much, my stuff is spreading, and more of it is staying... The other night I got a text from My Runner: "You moving in?  I think you have more coats in my closet than I do."  I'm sure it was meant in a joking manner, but the message was clear- you're NOT living here, so please don't take advantage.

On the flip side, My Runner has offered a place to keep some toiletries, the bed stand on the side of the bed I sleep on is empty, and he, at one point, mentioned keeping a few things at his place for work-clothing emergencies.  I'm at his house just about every weekend from Friday night to Monday morning, and generally one more night during the week- ie, more than I'm at my own place.  So, where does the line get drawn?

I want to be considerate of his space without having to worry that I'm overstepping.  But I don't want to seem like I'm withdrawing.  And honestly, I know me and I know at some point I'll absent-mindedly forget a pair of shoes or a hair tie or something, and I don't want that to cause a major issue.  Ultimately, I don't want to worry about this all the time and have it be a "thing."

Obviously it's time for a brief chat about what's ok and what's not.  He's rarely at  my house, and with my non-borders, it's never been an issue when he stayed there anyways.  And honestly, while a discussion will help me remember a bit to keep my "stuff" tamed, I'm bound to forget.  So there also needs to be an understanding that I'm NOT "playing games" or being passive-aggressive, but just forgetful.

There is a darker side to this, and I'm embarrassed and a bit ashamed to admit it.  Of course my actions came from being excited for My Runner to have his own place, but upon examination there was some selfishness at play too.  I would often interject or respond as if I had any authority at the house.  Like, when the neighbor asked about cutting trees, *I* said "That shouldn't be a problem."  Or I would state "We just moved in," leaving out the necessary language to indicate that we had just moved ONE PERSON in.  I don't recall doing this on purpose, but I do recall replaying these things in my head after I said them, thinking, "that can't be good."  But I didn't make a very conscious effort to stop.  I guess part of me wanted it to be true, and part of me was so excited for him I just didn't care.  Not until he cared and expressed to me how much it bothered him.  I know this was rude behavior, and it's embarrassing to admit bad manners.

So now, I make a conscious effort to not answer on behalf of him, and to make sure it's clear that I'm not a resident.  But that doesn't mean I haven't screwed up.  It's possible that I wasn't paying attention while talking.  Actually, that's likely because I rarely pay attention to what I'm saying until after I've said it.  (I don't recommended this- it gets me into trouble A LOT.)

Maybe some day this will all be a moot point, but for now it seems like an important stepping stone in our relationship.  How do we express our boundaries?  How do we tell each other when we're hurt or bothered? What's acceptable behavior and what's not?  What can we forgive and learn to live with, and what's unforgivable?  The actual topic might not be incredibly weighty, but the practice of resolving this little thing might have implications in how we resolve the big things.

**Edit: this post was written and for the briefest of moments published before I spoke to My Runner about the situation.  Since he reads the blog (hi baby!) I figured it'd be best for our relationship if I brought this up with him before putting it out for the world- or the 8 or so of you that read this- to see.  The chat was quick and productive, and as per usual I blew the issue way out of proportion in my head.**

Virginia is for Lovers. And Racers.

Thursday night at 11pm My Runner and I leave to drive the 596 miles to Virginia Beach for the Yuengling Shamrock Marathon.  The weather looks to be in the upper 60's and sunny, and our room has an ocean view.  Pocket's running the 8k with us on Saturday, and nothing will please me more to spend the morning running with two of my favorite people next to the majestic Atlantic Ocean.

I'm looking forward to this trip so much it's all that's on my mind.  I've got an extensive list of what to pack, divided by categories, (clothes, toiletries, booze, etc.).  I'm obsessively checking the weather (last Monday the prediction was 50% chance of precipitation on Sunday, today it's down to 30%).  I'm looking at the race maps and imagining what the runs will be like, and browsing through the "Virginia Beach" pool on Flickr (an eclectic mix of professionals and vacation photos).

I'm SO excited for the vacation that I keep forgetting that I'm running THIRTEEN MILES on Sunday.  After running just under 5 miles on Saturday.  At this point, I'm as trained as I'm gonna be.  I (mostly) avoided injuries at hockey (bruises don't really count).  I know where there's water and Gu on the course, and I've got some to carry with me.  My shoes are well broken in, my running clothing has been chosen, my iPod is charged and I'm ready to go.  The only unknowns are "chafe," (I know what chafe is in general, but runner's chafe sounds... no good), and if I can *actually* go the distance.

I'm no longer afraid to walk, but I don't want to give in to the walking if I don't have to.  I was pretty tired running 5 miles last Sunday, but the conditions were bad.  6 miles three weeks ago felt great.  My plan is to try to make it to the water station (about 6 miles in) without walking, get some water and fuel, walk about a half mile, and see if I can run again.  From then on in, if I'm tired or hurting, I'll sign-post it (ie, run to that sign-post, walk to this one, run to that one, walk to this one).

You know this *isn't a running blog* however the next few posts will be running-centered, so you've been "warned."  Also, the DAY we return from Virginia Beach the Nerd Herd will fight for the NHSSC Hockey trophy in the Season 6 finals.  Hopefully I won't be too broken to break myself at hockey.  :-)

Naked Cartwheels

It’s been an incredibly busy couple of weeks. I work to post at least twice a week, sometimes more, and it’s been tough to find the time. I’ve had meetings every day at work, some with a prominent political figure in this city (who may be my representative but for whom I did not cast my vote). This past weekend Dad visited, hockey Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday night My Runner and I and Mom and Mr. Fixit went to a dinner party at Mop and Face’s place.

Tonight my calendar had “6pm, Whipple St.” I was scheduled to look at a half a duplex to rent. It was cute, had a lot of space, a yard, and was in a quiet neighborhood. Best of all it was within my price range. The owners are a friend of a friend, so it came with a recommendation.

I assume you noticed that all the verbs in the last paragraph are in past tense. I got an email from the owner today that he had rented it out last night. I knew I had gotten too excited about this place. I had even described it to someone as “the one; we’re meant for each other.” But it’s been on the market for a while, and the owners were (understandably) looking to rent it out sooner rather than later.

I’m bummed, but working through it. How? With naked cartwheels. Tonight, instead of having an appointment, instead of scheduling anything, instead of having to see another living person, I’m home. All alone. Well, Fred T. Ferret, is here, but no humans. My cousin/roommate is home for spring break, and I’m taking advantage of an empty apartment and a canceled appointment for some MUCH needed *me* time.

Ok, Leeapeea, but naked cartwheels? That was Face’s idea. I’m sure it was one of those offhand things, “Oh, your roommate’s gone? What are you going to do? Naked Cartwheels! Ha!” Except it’s turned into something more than that. Metaphorically, naked cartwheels represents ultimate freedom and joy. Not only do you have the space to perform a free-wheeling acrobatic attempt, but you also have the privacy to do it disrobed. THAT’S freedom, my friends.

A good life is a life of balance. I love my friends, my family, My Runner, but I also love me. I have to balance my time with everyone else with some me time. Tonight brought the scales back to true. If you’ve been feeling overstressed, overwhelmed, overtaxed, over burdened, take my advice: naked cartwheels.

Aloha, Final Party

The 5th Annual Luau was held this past weekend, and it was a success.  I know so many wonderful and fun people, and I'm glad to host an opportunity for them to all meet each other.  As Sherpa said, “You know a lot of people!”  It’s true.  They’re all fun and nice and wonderful in their own way, and I was happy to have them all in one spot.  It also gave me a chance to invite all the awesome folks I’ve met through My Runner and introduce them to the awesome folks that are a part of my life.

This is the last party that will be held in the hallowed walls of apartment 206.  The Seacoast contingent arrived, looking around and saying, "I forgot how great your apartment is." (They don't visit frequently enough.  HINT.)  Yeah, I said, I know...  And we all had a moment of silence as we pre-mourned the passing of an era. 

So, in honor of my apartment and it's ability to host and hold some pretty phenomenal parties, a memorial of sorts to the evenings of fun (and sometimes not so fun) held at 206.  If you have fond (or horrid or funny) memories of any of these gatherings, feel free to share.  (Click any pictures to see larger.)

Housewarming, Nov. 2004: Held shortly after Smarty Pants and I moved in, the housewarming was a SAUSAGE FEST, with exactly three girls in attendance.  Smarty, Face, and yours truly.  This was the first AND LAST time Twister was played in our apartment.  Shortly after the epic Twister bouts I decided to get renter's insurance.

Oscar Party, Feb. 2005: A small gathering to watch the 2005 Oscars.  Hors d'herves and champagne, formal attire, and a red carpet (well, a swath of red fabric safety pinned to the actual carpet).    The most civil of the early parties.

The First Annual Luau, Feb. 2005: A large gathering, the first luau went off quite well until I realized that the guy I was with was sleeping with another woman and wanted her to come to the party.  I distinctly remember chucking his clothes at him from the bedroom and screaming at him to leave (he was quite in the luau spirit in a coconut bra and grass skirt).  Other than that, it was lovely.  Note: The ex and the coconut bra made a return at this year's Luau.  I did not throw clothing, and I knew beforehand he was sleeping with somebody else, as am I.  All is well now.  :-D

Cinco de Mayo, May 2005: made chipotle pigs in a blanket, managed NOT to poison friends with Mom's margarita recipe.  There was talk of making this annual as well, but the party fuse was running low finally.

Talk Like A Pirate Party, Sept. 2005: this party commemorated International Talk Like a Pirate Day.  What?  Pirates were cool once.  Plus I got to use the corset I bought for a play a second time.  And MrFaceHead came in a full parrot costume.  He is teh awesome.  Proudest about: serving orange wedges to prevent scurvvy.  Arrrr.

Smarty Pant’s Surprise Birthday, Dec. 2005: Since Smarty’s birthday falls neatly in between Christmas and New Years, it doesn’t always get the attention it deserves.  Face and I resolved to MAKE it have the attention it deserved.  Smarty was surprised.  She cried.  It was awesome.

2nd Annual Luau, Feb. 2006: they start to run together... but I'm pretty sure this is the one where a guy threw up strawberry daiquiri all over the living room floor. 

Toga Party, June 2006: for my 26th birthday I held a Toga Party.  One friend came with his new girlfriend and they were the ONLY ones not in togas.  We made them wear really ugly sheets.  They've since stopped coming to my parties.

The Heist, Aug. 2006: for The Boy's 31st birthday I arranged for him to be kidnapped, tossed in an unmarked cargo van, and charged, by Jimmy Baggadonuts to find the McGuffin Statue.  Obviously my wonderful and awesome friends filled out the cast of characters.  It went off without a hitch, proving that not only are all my friends closet actors, but I am a kickass heist planner.  Research for this was fun.  :-)

3rd Annual Luau, Feb. 2007: this year it snowed 16 inches the night of the luau, and there was a parking ban in Manchester.  People walked 5 blocks in the snow in sandals.  The Boy took my offer to "invite friends" a little too liberally, inviting people he knew only from playing pool at Strangebrew who brought along even more strangers.  Max apartment capacity was reached that night at a total of 51 guests.  I was not amused.

Halloween, Oct. 2007: Smarty was in Budapest this fall, so the entire invite list was up to me.  This resulted in a number of theatre people attending, which is great/horrible for a costume party.  A contingent of actors came from the production of Pirates of Penzance, and I’m pretty sure some of them were getting it on in the shower.  Most notable costume: one friend’s girlfriend came as a Succubus, a costume that consisted of black booty shorts, black bat wings, and black latex body paint.  Yes, that’s it.

NYE 2007, Dec. 2007/Jan. 2008: this should have been the end of The Boy and me, but I'm stubborn and a glutton for punishment I guess.  Carnie Irene made her pox-filled appearance this year, prompting The Boy to spend time exclusively with her, dancing with her (while no one else was dancing, mind you), touching her, and being with her when it was time for NYE kisses.  This night I left without saying good-bye and stayed at Face's house.  He hadn't noticed I was gone.  He was upset that he had to clean everything up by himself.  Boo-hoo.

4th Annual Luau, Feb. 2008: I think this was the year my towel rack in front of the toilet was broken as someone drunkenly fell against it.  There was also some girl… someone’s friend of a friend, maybe, who was trying to kiss all the other girls.  And this was the year half the female contingent showed up in bikini tops.  I don’t know what kind of hormones were in the water, but they seemed to be the horny kind.

Halloween, Oct. 2008: I was stop number one on people's party-hopping list.  While it was nice that everyone came, it was a little sad that I had 4 people in my apartment at midnight.  I whined about it because I am 5 years old.

First 29th Birthday Surprise, June 2009: This time *I* was the one who was surprised.  I managed not to pee my pants and was inebriated enough to give EVERYONE at the party hugs.  I was not so inebriated that I couldn’t figure out that The Boy could never have pulled this off by himself, so thanks to Face and Smarty for the best first 29th birthday a girl could have.

5th Annual Luau, Feb. 2010: after a hiatus in 2009 the Luau was back with a vengeance.  This year the tikki gods saw fit to cut half the power to the building, affording ambiance while still being able to run the blenders. Hula and Limbo contests were a rousing success.  Statistics: Rum Consumed: 2 1/2 handles + approx 300 mL of 151.  Ice Used: 20lbs.  Inflatable Fish Sacrificed: 2.  Lei'd at the door: Everyone.

Moving On

After living in my apartment since October, 2004, I'm moving out this spring.

Why?  Well, the neighborhood has never been great.  When Smarty Pants and I were living there together, her car was broken into more than once, and mine was stolen (and eventually found in Cambridge, MA).  There's a lady that lives in the building across the alley who does not take her meds, so in the summer when all the windows are open you can hear her screaming that she's being raped.  She's not.  We called the police the first time we heard her and they confirmed that she's skitzophrenic and often forgets to medicate.  The side street is littered with dog poop and trash.  I've heard children being verbally and physically abused on our streets.  I've witnessed the same children being completely ignored by their parents as they play outside at 11pm.  As I've watched those kids grow up, I see that they are becoming as cruel and stupid as the adults around them.

In my building are at least two questionable men, whom I've named Sketch (Sr.) and Junior Sketch.  Sketch Sr. moved in about 2 years ago, wears a lot of black and camo, sunglasses at night, and used to stand around on the front corner a lot.  A LOT.  Looking, well, sketchy.  I tried to mitigate his sketchiness by saying "Hi," ala Ned Flanders to no avail.  Junior Sketch just moved in to the apartment in the lobby, where he is constantly peeking out the door, and also waiting on the corner in front of the building.  When I pull my car up, he moves to try to get in.  Now, why would you try to get in to a stranger's car?  Unless my car says TAXI on it (which it doesn't), my guess is drugs, prostitution, or both.  Speaking of prostitution, that happens too.  A 40-ish woman with stripper pants, a big bag, standing on the street corner at 10pm... just standing... is not normal.

Oh, and then there was the stabbity.  In October, the night before I left to visit my Dad in PA, a man stabbed another man.  The wounded man ran, fell on my car (which was parked pretty much outside my front door), bled upon it, ran up the ramp in front of the building, then down the street.  I was staying at Face and Mop's the night before, so I wasn't there for the crime, but the entire block was a crime scene when Face brought me home.  My car was swathed with police tape.  We had to get permission to enter my building, and then of course I had to make sure they were done gathering evidence (aka human blood) from my car.  The officers on the scene were laissez-faire about the whole thing, which certainly didn't help me feel more comfortable.

Why didn't I move out earlier?  Because my apartment is BEAUTIFUL.  Well, ok, the kitchen counters are a little meh.  And it needs new carpet.  But it has 12 foot ceilings in the living room and master bed room and 8 foot tall windows.  It's custom painted from when Smarty and I first moved in with warm colors.  The rent is reasonable (though not as cheap as it once was) and the heat is free.  The building is a landmark, as it's a converted Catholic School that was built in the late 1800's.  There's storage, laundry, and off-street parking.  It's 0.9 miles from my home to work.  Emotionally, this is my first home.  It's the first place I made my own; the first place I really settled.

A few pics from the place - excuse the clutter I've been bustling about the last few days:

Still, the decision to move has been made, and while it will be difficult to leave the space, it will be easy to leave the neighborhood.  Where am I going?  Well, I'm likely staying in ManchVegas.  The rents here are good.  The whole reason I'm moving is to get into a better neighborhood, so actually KNOWING the neighborhoods will help.  Ideally I'd like to be in a place with some character, something that's part of a house on a quiet block where I can put my trash and recycling out at the curb, maybe have a balcony or a bit of yard.  And I'm spoiled - I want heat to be included since I've never had to budget for it.

My lease is up April 1st.  I can stay on as a tenant at will (for an extra fee, of course) for as long as I want; I have to give 30 days notice before I vacate.  I'm looking to see if there's anything for April 1st that I'd want, but I'm happy to move May 1st too.  Part of the issue is that I'm SO freaking busy in March that I have no idea when to look for apartments.  Also, after living in a place for 5 1/2 years, there's a lot of purging and packing to do.  Finally, I have to paint everything white again, which is stupid, as it looks awesome and they could totally rent it out as-is.  But they already told me they'll charge $200/wall to paint, and I'd rather keep my $1000+, thank-you-very-much.

So, who wants to join the painting party?  Food, drink, and painting supplies provided by the lovely host, labor and music provided by you.  Anybody?  hello?