MeMe

Comment, and I will comment back with a picture of the fictional character that most reminds me of you. Then post the same in your journal and join in the fun!

(My friends ala Ringling are doin' this and it's such fun - Mike told me I was Jordan Baker from the Great Gatsby - which !rock! I love that book. And she's not soooooo bad. Tho she's kind of cool in her badness . . . . )

Food&Wine Fest & PIRATES!

We went away to Florida this past weekend to celebrate with some of our fave people. I got to spend an entire weekend with my "little sister" Sarah, not to mention Les and Andy, my parents and Cathy (Sarah's mom). We. Had. A. Blast.

Here are some highlights:






This is Sarah and I right before we got on the Tower of Terror. Sam campaigned all morning for her to join us, but I want to believe it was my pointing out I'd never ask her to do something on which she'd die that really sealed the deal.

On the way to the food and wine fest . . .



Ya'll. It's SO GOOD. I think everyone should meet us there next year. Anyone up for it?

Me and my favorite girl. (And yes, it's the next day and we went back. To EAT MORE.)

Almost all of us.

And, then, we were pirates!
Me and the Pirate Queen with our pirate faces.

Me with the most handsome pirate in the park.

More of our pirate crew. (Ya'll my parents went ALL OUT - it was awesome. As a group, we rocked, quite frankly.



IT was, to say the least, a great weekend.

I miss you guys already.

of the 29th

Books.

Tissues.

Blankets.

Canvas.

Promises on paper.



730 days.

104 weeks.

2 years.

Cotton.



I know that every day is a gamble. I know that the world isn't made for such things. That it's cruel and hard. That our lives have connected at this point, at this time, through a series of unrelated events. That kismet has smiled on us. That synchronicity has paused for us.

I know the planets still spin on as always. That there is still great sadness. Still war and trauma and hopelessness in the air. That tears are shed, and will continue to be.

I know there is nothing perfect in this world. Including us.

Each day is merely a page of a calendar whispering through the air to the floor. The small ticking of the clock echoing it's repeated call.

That regardless of our actions, our words, our promises - the sun will set. It will rise again after night. Untouched by our hopes and dreams.


I also know that never before has my heart been so full. Never before have my dreams seemed so close.

I wake every morning with hope in my heart for the next moment. I fall to sleep at peace. The warmth next to me is ever so much more than another warm body.

Every day we wake up and choose each other. And in a world where magic is thin, where so much goes wrong - I see that choice we make each moment we're together (and apart) as a small miracle.

I don't know about the rest of the world. I don't know what comes after. I know I have always believed in the magic of this world. In the possiblity that dreams are real. That hope is everlasting and inpenetrable.



And I know he has made all of that as real as anything else in my world.

my beloved


mi cielo


mo chuisle


my very heart

Joe's First Trip to NYC (also named - Yay! Joe's Moving to NYC! or, alternately, the entry I gush about Joe and he decides to never talk to me again)

Is that second title too pushy? I can't tell . . . .

So, Joe came to visit us this past weekend, and all it took was for him to break his "lifelong" boycott of our home city and some threatening that Katy and I would COME GET HIM if he didn't. And it was such fun, I cannot even tell you. We were all SO HAPPY to have him here.

Now, we all have our lives and adventures, and Joe's story isn't mine to tell. What is mine to say, however, is that over the past few months I've watched in awe as he's been slowly sifting through his life and making it better. He's been making g a lot of hard decisions and dealing with a lot of crap - and honestly? It makes me ever so proud of him - while admiring the pants off him. (And I would, literally admire the pants off of him, only he's family - and well, that's just wrong. Though it's important, now that find myself on a tangent that the girls at my work would all admire the pants straight off of him, so there you go. Proof all at once of my love for my husband and the hotness of Joe. Awesome tangent over.)

But needless to say, Sam and I have been struggling this far away. We have wanted to do something awesome for Joe, and weren't sure what. And then one night, late and a little tipsy at our neighborhood bar, The Gaf - Katy, Sam and I decided it was time we *saw* Joe. And true to form for all of us, we concocted a plan and made it happen, and I couldn't be more proud of us.



'Cause before you could say "Bob's your Uncle!" (and why would you, really?) Joe was on a plane eating warm chocolate chip cookies and flying o'er Manhattan.

I have to interject here for a second and say Sam and I were so very excited it was on the verge of pathetic. We met after work and immediately jumped in a cab in the middle or rush hour to make sure we got to the airport to meet Joe in time. We were like children, hopping up and down in baggage claim looking to see if he was walking toward us. It was only later we thought of making a big sign that said "Welcome! Joe! Hagen!" - next time. It's also important to note we NEVER meet people at the airport. The list is very short of who that little honor goes to: Kate, Little Charlie, Jamie and Joe. Ha. One down, three to go.

ANYway, seeing Joe and Sam together makes me happy. There's always lots of laughter and joking and teasing. But it's something else, too. I know there's nothing they wouldn't do for each other and that's just plain as day when they're in each other's company. I feel lucky to have been included.

And, well. I love me some Joseph J. Always have. In our group of mutual friends, I always saw him as a sort of kindred spirit. He's my fellow designer. My fellow visual artist. He's the one I could banter endlessly about visual communication - what was good, what wasn't. Or bitch endlessly of the ignorance of pushy, narrow-minded clients. . . above and beyond that, though, I've always found it easy to talk to Joe. He's always honest with you, always upfront. And if you want to know what he thinks, he doesn't shirk from telling you.


He's not just a dreamer, he's a doer. And that's so very hard to find. He's got plans, that one. And listening to him talk about what's important to him, what he wants - well, there's no doubt he's going to make it happen. Right. And well. And when it does happen because he's put so much thought into it, it will be even better than I think even he can imagine.

I can't wait to see it.

But I'm blathering on. I guess I feel the need to. Joe entered my life in a weird place. Right when I lived far away, and we were just friends of friends. And, while over the years, we started being friends the two of us - I've never quite said to him how much I truly feel ever so lucky to have him around. When I think about maybe someday leaving this crazy city-life and heading west - part of me wants very desperately to have Joe playing catch with my son or daughter on a regular basis. Teaching them about what he thinks of Klimt and how to play dungeons and dragons baseball all in one conversation.

Being around so they can see what great, kind, kickass family they have.

So yeah. Stuff I think about.


And our weekend! Oh, the fun! There was museum wandering, sidewalk hoofing, ferry riding - and of course, ice cream eating and beer drinking. And some gin. And shots. And Nightmare Before Christmas in 3-D. And birthday cake.

It. Was. Good. Times.



The pics will have to come in batches - more to come in the next few days.

My Weekend

To come - one really sappy post on how much I love Joe Hagen, and how glad I am that the world seemed fit to not just put him in my life - but make him family.

Oh, and a photo montage centered around the fact that if Sam and Joe weren't related they'd make a very cute couple.

good day at work!

Company-wide email that went out yesterday:

"I want to thank everyone who has worked on (insert brand) on the digital and promotion side in the past year. This business started as a simple digital promotion with a very small budget. Without all the excellent and hard work that has been done over the years, we never would have been trusted to execute a signature website on a national scale. The brand too should be thanked for realizing that the internet has become an essential part of everyone's life and for committing the dollars to meet them there.

I also want to especially thank Misty Bell for her commitment to the brand and the excellent quality of her work. She has been the central creative on this account with not only the Big Idea, but all the small ones too. "

Months, people. Months. It feels so good to get this far and not only have it be successful, but appreciated. We're only half way there (now I'm designing, after all the strategy and thinking!). But I know it will go well.

Yay. Yay me! It feels good.

(P.S. I also have a meeting next week with Billy from MelPlace next week. The sheer joy and madness this is causing in our office is awesomely hilarious. This week? I love my job.)

Well, At Least I Went

It was a great day at work and everything seemed prime for a good run. I had forgotten, however, that those aches in my joints only get worse when I run on them. Stupid, Fobro. I kept at it tho, and while I didn't do my greatest workout ever, I feel trumphant I didn't give up. I did, however, go home, sit on the couch and cry from being sore.

But that's okay. I'll do it again tomorrow, and maybe even do it better.

New Hair!

May, Jasmin - this post is just for you. :)

side view:


back (this is where the purple-ey stuff is most):


top view:


God bless Apple's PhotoBooth app.

Robb *with 2 Bs* Is Dying My Hair!

Robb *with 2 Bs* Is Dying My Hair!

Better Late than Never, I suppose

So my friend Matt encouraged me to write here about what was bothering me of late (this was weeks? a month? ago, but I wanted to answer honestly and, well, that took some time and thought) and so I am. Now. So long after relevance it probably is no longer a concern or worth sharing. But, well. Here I am.

And I begin with the place I am now, have been in the past, and more likely will be in the future - until I screw my courage and figure out myself.

(I'm greatly looking forward to that day - the "screwing courage", though, seems to hold me up a bit)

See, I'm not sure what I want from my life. How to navigate it, how best even to live it. This past year I've made a concentrated effort to do better, feel better and I feel like in some areas I'm making true progress. I'm healthier - that's for sure. I don’t miss ice cream QUITE as much as I used to and exercise has gotten to be something I actually miss when I don’t do it.

Go figure.

I'm reading good books more regularly and lately I've been doing a lot of studying of art. Reading about it historically, looking at it currently and am slowly finding myself inspired to step timidly back in that great, cold lake.

I'm even doing better at trying things that scare me. (And believe you me when I say that some of those things are pretty silly and weird and I might be the only one that finds them a challenge - but look, that fancy treadmill at the gym? The one that all the gazelle-like runners use? The one that has all the crazy settings and tells you how far and fast and changes such things on display with a mere psychic push?! Yeah, I ran on it. So what. See? These are the things. Ha. And why I'll continue to keep them all pretty much to myself.)

So yeah, yay and good. Progress and wonder. Woo-hoo.

But here's the thing. There's this monster in the room I get really good at ignoring. I step over him, I dust around him, I even manage to not hear when he yells at me. I am very zen about it all. Except for the part where he consumes an average of 50 hours of my week. Over and over and over again. And I just don’t know what to do with him.

Make him my friend? Kick him out?

*sigh*

Yeah, my job,. My career at this point, if you will. If you want to get fancy, which if course I do as I love the fanciness. Oh, yes.

And it's not like it sucks. Or I suck. Or any of that. It's just, well, something's missing. Has been from the start. And lately I think I figured out what it is - what it's been this whole time.

I never really chose what I do. I fell into it. I lucked out. I took a job that was "just for now" and developed a really killer skill set. And then I got good at it.

Real good.

And every time I looked around it was more challenging and exciting and, well, cool. I get to do fun things and work on awesome stuff. . . and the people? Jesus Christ, the people ROCK. I've fallen in to some of the best teams ever. Which - you know - makes all the difference.

And I guess what I'm saying is I got lucky. I found something I could make good money at and truly enjoy. And you'd think that would be enough, right? But part of me still has hold of that dream born of beautiful books, galleries and the smell of turpenoid.

Part of me is still that young girl, arm tucked around her paintbox, dreaming of how she's going to change the world with her stories.

Or, more accurately now, the young woman who looked around her at the house and new convertible and fun, fanciful carefree life and said "This. Is. Not. Enough." And sold her belongings, put the rest in storage and moved alone to her Big Dream City.

I don’t know what to do with her. How to handle her. We're like a couple, broken up long ago and yet still friends. Easy to talk about all the unimportant things, still a bit wary of the big topics.

So, lately, we've just been sitting together. And, right now, I think that's what I need. To sit with her, get to know her again. Acquaint her with who I am. See how best we can get along. I know we can, that we will. But it's taking some navigating.

Some thought. Some evaluation of my life that's not always comfortable.

But in the end, will be worth it.

I believe that. I do. I have to.

Real Post Tomorrow - Promise!

Mr. Lance Armstrong tod me via my 'pod tonight he's proud of me and my 15 minute run. Ha. So there, gazelle-like lady next to me on the treadmill tonight. :)

Running Running Running

Well, and walking - I'm doing Intervals . . .

Because I can't get nikeplus.com to work on my work machine:

Yesterday:
Distance: 3.01 mi
Time: 47:19
Calories: 401

History:
Number of Workouts: 3
Fartherst Workout: 3.01 mi
Total Distance: 6.94 mi
Total Time; 1.8 hours
Calories: 674


Hoepfully, over the weeks it'll get better. But now, I'm just happy it's consistent. :)

Whitman

" . . .Allons! the road is before us!
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well.

Allons! be not detain’d!
Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d!
Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d!
Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!
Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.

Mon enfant! I give you my hand!
I give you my love, more precious than money,
I give you myself, before preaching or law;
Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live? . . ."

33

Thirty-three years.

It feels like a good omen, three being my favorite number. But then, lately I've felt like a lot of things are good omens. Good things to come. Good things on the horizon. Good on its way.

And, well, for the first time in my life I'm looking forward to these things, as ethereal as they are, instead of waiting for the celiing to cave in before they get here. It's been my habit - something I saw as caution, preparedness, being at the ready: but it's really none of that.

It's just simply fear.

And while I've taken some chances in my life, and big ones at that - I've never felt entirely comfortable with good things. I have always felt I couldn't possibly deserve them, or that someone else needed them more. Earned them more. Could do more with them. No matter what the "them" is.

But recently I've slowly been changing things. Or, rather, taking control of them. Figuring out what I want and finding ways to get there. Oh, it's not all peaches and cream. I don't get everything I want - nor should I. But I am learning to accept things - the good things without feeling bad about them. WIthout negating them or myself. The bad things, too, seeign their purpose and lettign them go. Not hanging on, not dwelling. Not lettign them keep me from enjoying what's funa nd right about my life.

And it's probably the most important thing I've learned this year, my thirty-second: that good things happen when you work for them (and sometimes when you don't); and it's okay. It's okay to smile and enjoy them. To relish in them.

In figuring this out, I've also come to revisit some of the good things in my life I lost a bit, and weed out the bad. That's where I'm at now. Tending to the happiness, I guess. Reaching out and asking forgiveness from the good things I maybe didn't cherish properly, and saying goodbye to some of the bad stuff that only encouraged negative behaviour.

It's hard, and it's a long on-going process, but it will work out in the end. Meanwhile, I plan to spend this coming year laughing a lot and trusting myself more.

And being thankful. Every. Single. Day. That I have such an abundant amount of happiness to tend to.

Run #2

I've officially completed 2 runs, totaling 3.92 miles.

Slowly but surely . . . . I'm developing new habits.

It's Official

These two nutjobs will be united in my home for a few days in October. Katy, I'm officially calling for back up.




P.S. Joe, I absolutely CANNOT WAIT to have you here in the city. AND, it's about f-in' time you came to see us!! Love you!

my first run with my bday present!

So I'm pathetically slow, and it says FIVE runs but it's just one. Ha. I'm sorry Nike.

But! So fun!

A Week Early, A Week Late

So last Friday Sam got a bunch of our nearest and dearest together to celebrate my birthday. Of course, it wasn't my birthday, but rather one week and one day BEFORE my birthday.

Ha.

But those of you who know me, know I suck every single celebration I can out of September - and as a sign of how good our friends are here, none of them batted an eye over it. We started out in the plaza outside my work, as everyone slowly trickled in from various parts of the city. There was a moment when we took up four tables, everyone laughing and talking over each other, ordering drinks and passing around appetizers, when I looked around and thought to myself, "I cannot believe I'm this lucky."

When I moved here I had no idea what woudl happen. Sure I knew a couple people, but I'm not so good at making new friends. I honestly wasn't sure I would - but last week sitting in the dusk surrounded by laughter and stories and general fun, I realized this really has become home. Home in that way where it's not just about an address, or a job - or even just about me and Sam (though that's a huge, huge part). It's about findign a place where I can sit and feel comfortable and happy and, well, feel loved.

We know some amazing people here. People I want to bottle up and take with me if we ever leave. People I want to have you meet. That have become such a vital part of my life and well-being, I don't know how to even categorize them anymore. We're our own little family here in this concrete city, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

But! back to the birthday! We forgot to take pictures in the courtyard, but Sam did pull out the camera at dinner. We went to this great little place in our neighborhood called "Druids" (it was pointed out that OF COURSE we'd go to a pub named Druid's fo rmy brithday - which I found hilarious) - it's a small bar on tenth avenue not far from our apartment with the most amazing back patio. All covered with trinkets and art and little white christmas lights. The best part, last week, was we could even see stars. Which, well, was present enough, honestly.

So, back to the pictures, Sam began taking some memories of all who were there, and then we all got distracted and it never happened - but we did get these:

This is Sarah. I adore her. We see her, on average, four times a year. This picture marked the second time in two weeks. We've promised to make this whole "seeing each other often" thing a habit. This makes me very very happy. Sam, too, as you can see.

Mikki was there, too, of course. Surprisngly she wasn't sick of me - even though we work together every day now. :) But as Sam's BFF and my Cretaive Life Partner, well, it seemed only proper she come out. That and she's SU-PERRRR.

One person we used to only see from time to time that's become a regular habit nowadays is Katy. I can honestly say having her around more often makes my life better. She's planning to move away soon, and this breaks my heart a little. Thank god Sam took such great pics of her.

You know. For memories.


Ha. Regardless, drinks and dinner had my cheeks sore from laughing so much.

And then, the few that were left climbed the four flights of stairs to our apartment for one last celebratory act: BIRTHDAY CAKE. Yummy, beautiful, wonderful chocolate hazelnut BIRTHDAY CAKE.



Dear lord, it was good. Magical, even. ;) My friend Andrea made it fo rme, and I can't even begin to describe how delicious it was. (IS - I still have some, I've been hoarding the last few pieces - I even stuck two in my freezer.)

Overall, awesome birthday. And it wasn't even my birthday! Have I mentioned the lucky-girlness of my life recently?

'Cause, well, LUCKY.

UPDATED:

No. 756 going into Hall with an asterisk

Little Leslie of the Caribbean

Last weekend was a great few days. Pretty much entirely attributed to those extra two people in that photo right up there.

It's the time of year for Les and Andy to come on back home and hang with those of us they left behind in the city when they moved down to paradise. And it's one of my favorite annual events. Sam and I miss those two like crazy, and the fun we have when they're around makes my cheeks hurt.

We usually spend the weekend eatting yummy food, seeing movies (usually involving Andy, Tracy and Sam laughing so hard and loud it gets to be as hilarious as the movies themselves) and generally just hanging out, talking and remembering why - yet again - New York City shouldn't be so very far away.

Not to mention that it seems Les and I have married very similar co-horts - and I, for but three days, can share glances across the table with a woman WHO KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT I'M THINKING. And then we can each roll our eyes and/or smack the man next to us.

And I have to say, there really is nothing better than having friends you consider family come into town and stay awhile. My heart is always a little bit more full when they're here, and this city definitely feels more like home. When they leave, as they always do that Monday in September - there's a little empty space in this crowded city I have a real hard time explaining away.

But it's alright, cause tradition is tradition and we'll see them in October, for a fun-filled Bell family overloaded weekend at Disney. ('Cause, as I said, they are so very family.) So, Les and Andy? We miss you already - but we know it won't be long til we see you again. This time in your neck of the woods. So the missin' isn't so bad. We're practically packed already we're so looking forward to seeing you two again.

The question is - are YOU ready?

Or perhaps - are my parents truly prepared for the four of us?!

Ya'll. Really?!

You're Roots by Alex Haley

While almost everyone agrees that you're brilliant, no one knows quite how to categorize you. Some say that you're a person with an amazing family tree. Some say that you're just a darn good storyteller. Others say that you're both and don't much care where to draw the line. What is known is that your people have been through a great number of trials and that you are where you are because of hard work. You have nothing to lose but your chains.


Well, um, okay, I guess.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Because sometimes repeating yourself Makes Sense

I want to spin and spin in a crowded room, surrounded by friends. I want the music to be so loud we can't talk, but have to communicate with smiles and winks and absurd hand gestures.

I want my hair to fall in my face and have it brushed aside by his hand as he pulls me close as the music slows. I want to be able to lean into him and not have to worry about standing on my own. I want all my worries to be centered around where he'll put his hands when we dance, and where we'll go when they turn the lights back on.


I want all my friends in one place, safe and happy - filled with music and laughter.

I want our voices to be hoarse from yelling and our heads heavy from drink and adventure.


I want for my worries to be all about how we'll all manage to do this again in a few weeks. I want my future plans to only be concerned with thoughts of more music and close friends.

And where they sell good greasy food at four in the morning.

I want to sneak a cigarette at the bar as everyone else goes to check out the next floor of the club. I want bum a light and whisper conspiratorially as we hide in the corner, smoke coming out of our mouths and gin sloshing in our glasses.


I want to know once again, what it is to laugh until I cry. What it feels like when my cheeks are sore from smiling.


I don't want to know who our allies are. What country we plan on stomping through on our way to wage war. I want to stop counting those I know who are no longer here, but elsewhere in a sandy and strange desert. I don't want to turn the radio on in the morning wondering what the news will bring. I am tired of hearing the arguments and the rationalizations and reasons. I'm tired of the bright lights and complex systems.


I want to keep my loved ones close, in the darkness. I want us to dance until we can no longer stand, hold each other close and walk home. To a home that's safe, and right , and just.


I want midnight burritos and shots of tequila. I don't want these adult concerns and responsibilities.


I want peace.

(written 02.21.03)

Great Quote

“You are not discovering yourself, but creating yourself anew. Seek, therefore, not to find out who you are, seek to determine who you want to be.”

I saw this today and as trite as it might sound is was a bit of an epiphany for me. I keep trying to figure out who I am, what I should be doing - but the most success I have had lately is just simply working toward who I want to be.

A very small, but very important differentiation.

And one that is working for me, so far.

Happy First Week Birthday!

My sweetest sweetie sweet boy is now a big brother. And two of my very best friends in the world are parents for the second time.

There are no words. I can only tell you that when we turned and left the hospital room after saying goodbye, we had to stop so I could just sob over the fact that I'm not there, I'm not around - I'm not close by.

This little family makes my heart full, I love them so much. And when the (now!) 6 of us hang out I feel like there isn't a wrong in the world. I love how Sarah laughs at everything Sam says, how Phil always knows the perfect line to say to crack me up - how we're all friends. Wonderful, amazing, awesome friends.

And I want to see them today and wish Euston Happy First Week Birthday. I want to play transformers with Hagan and sit and talk and just hang out with Sarah. . . when my whole world is topsy turvy these people ca bring me straight back down to the ground, and make me feel at home. That's what it is - the six of us - in so many ways.

Home.

I love them all so much - words just fail me. Fail.




I want New York and Kansas to be closer. I need them to be.