Archive for January, 2010

Create Today

Saturday, January 30th, 2010

A few days ago I mentioned that my sister started her first blog, and now it’s been officially announced to the world.

Create Today is a blog about art, jewelry, and making. Follow me as I chronicle upcoming projects and events and share with you my ups and downs along the way. Each day presents new opportunities to create – perhaps an object, a friendship, an idea, or a way of being. The possibilities are endless!

Create Today is still in its beginning stages, but keeping checking on it because it’s going to be fantastic.  Way to go, Trish!

Defense Against Creeps

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

Though the weekend was fun (where are those pictures??), it was also full of creepers.  You know what I’m talking about.  There were creepy old men all over both Baltimore and DC.  Not a fan.

I’ve been reading “how-to’s” a lot lately, mostly because I’m addicted to the internet and also because I think it’s important (and beneficial to your street cred) to know how to do really obscure things.

Where am I going with this?  Four words:  Kung Fu For Girls.

“How To Do An Inside Block to the Side of the Head” has to always be good to know, and it’s too bad I’m just finding out about this now.

Assume the guard position. With your front arm, perform a pseudomilitary salute. Now move the saluting hand six inches forward, away from your head. Execute the movement again but go immediately to the finishing position. Any attack to the side of the head can be absorbed on the forearm. Your arm hacks into your attacker’s like an ax hitting a tree branch.

Growing

Sunday, January 24th, 2010

This birthday weekend was amazing, and full of good friends and general mayhem.  I can’t get into it yet until I get the pictures from my friend Molly, so for now, enjoy one of my birthday gifts.

My sister Tricia is a metalsmith and jeweler, dealing primarily with sterling silver and enamel, and she’s fantastic.  Check out her website and Etsy shop, if you haven’t already.

I live and die for getting packages in the mail, and luckily, Trish knows me very well and mailed her birthday gift to me:

Growing

Growing

Growing

Love it, obviously, and may have to come up with reasons to wear it every day.  And hey, Trish just started her own blog!  It’s not quite ready to go yet, but once it is you’ll be hearing allllll about it.

Happy Sunday night!

2-6

Saturday, January 23rd, 2010

Let’s get nostalgic!

1st birthday
1st birthday

3.  Tonight's cup will be full.
3. Tonight’s cup will be full.

Why this one?  Why not?!?!
Why this one? Why not?!?!

6, 20 years ago.  That's wack.
6, 20 years ago. That’s wack.

That’s it!  Half a day in, and 26 is great so far.  I think I’ll like it.

Enjoy your weekends!

Heavy Rotation: Swim (To Reach The End)

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

Summer:  it’s far from here.  But around this time every year, I start dreaming of long days, warm nights, the beach…especially when there’s a random week in January where the weather is in the ’50s.  What a tease.

Surfer Blood (from Florida–lucky!) is my favorite recent find.  The amazing riffs in their song “Swim (To Reach The End)” tell me that summer is coming, and lull me into believing it’s true.  So wrong, yet so right.  Go ahead and keep the tease going, Surfer Blood.  I can take it.

Bootleg Post: Fabulously Broke in the City

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

My writer’s block is still in full effect, however I hope to change that drastically tomorrow by of way of a scenery change: blogging from the Zebra Striped Whale.  Great coffee, free wi-fi, and I can people watch on State St. with zero shame.

Luckily, FB from Fabulously Broke in the City has graciously allowed me to bootleg one of her recent posts regarding moving back home after you’ve been living on your own for a long time.   Don’t worry though, I’m not letting her do all the work.  Watch out for my own personal comments throughout the post.

OtherBlogs_FB_FB

Living with your parents, before you move out

This is the time when you most want to move out.

There is no space, it’s cluttered, you can’t even make chocolate spread-covered butter biscuits for breakfast without your Dad shoving an orange in your face.

You get in fights over who should have taken out the garbage.

You are constantly told: My house, my rules.

And you get these worrying looks when you come home past 8 p.m.

Like at 8.15 p.m.

Jillian says:  This is where I’m grateful for never having a curfew.

You think living on your own will be THE BOMB and you can eat cookies for breakfast, sleep in until noon with nary a care in the world.

I moved out when I was 19, got my own apartment and a job to pay for it.

Jillian says: same here.

It was a quick lesson in how to be an adult, that was for damn sure.

The thing I forgot about in my fantasies of leaving was how things were going to get done and paid.

Bathroom filthy? It may not have been your chore to do at home, but now you have to do it ALL.

Bills getting paid? Gotta get a job to do that, the electricity doesn’t work without it.

And I didn’t pay rent BEFORE I moved out. Only after I move back in, do I have to pay rent.

Jillian says:  Yep, same here.

Remembering to buy toilet paper and toothpaste? Er…… can baking soda and tissue papers suffice for now?

Jillian says:  Toilet paper is the least fun thing you could ever spend your own money on, along with detergent and Windex.

Learning how to do little fix-it things around the home? Had to be Googled.

And cooking: where else are you ever going to get mom’s home cooked meals filled with love, unless you do it yourself? Gah.

Jillian says:  my mom didn’t cook much when I was growing up.  We ate out a lot, but after I moved out it was the having to pay for it all myself that killed.

Of course, the best thing about living on your own is you CAN eat cookies for breakfast, sleep in until noon and do what you want without someone nagging you.

But change starts to take place, and before you know it, you are shrieking at someone for putting down a cold glass on the table without a coaster, and wondering how to get burnt food off from the bottom of a pot without ruining it.

With freedom, comes responsibility. Ahhhh…

Still, it’s pretty awesome living without your parents.

You can decorate and do whatever the heck you want, and no one is going to try and use your room as a storage for old dusty boxes with useless parts of ancient computers, or store furniture in there because they have too much junk everywhere else.

Living with your parents after you have moved out

So you had to move back in for various reasons.

It wasn’t awful living with my mom. But I felt a real sense of guilt of not being there more during the week on some nights when I came home late, or went out after.

Jillian says: this has been happening to me a lot lately.  I’m hardly ever home, and when I am, my parents are generally not because our work schedules don’t line up.

My mom has been wanting to go to the movies with me, play Wii Fit with her, and to take me to a Thai restaurant for my birthday this Saturday, but I’m always somewhere, on my way somewhere, or planning to go somewhere else.  Excuse me while I go give my mom a hug right now.

We only saw each other briefly in the mornings (she left before I did), and briefly at night when she and I both came home hungry and exhausted.

Jillian says: exactly the same.

There were a lot of good things, like having more bonding time with my mom, which helped our relationship a lot, and I felt good being able to help her do things she otherwise would have taken hours to do.

Jillian says:  I also agree here.  Being home permanently during the holidays was especially great.  My trips home were usually hectic and too short.

I came back to a room totally filled with JUNK. My family’s JUNK.

Jillian says:  they cleared a lot of junk out for me when I moved back, but my room was still full of my own junk…like a box of notes from friends in high school.  And I’d been telling my mom to just pitch everything for years, but she is wacked and wanted me to go through everything and save “important” stuff.  I ended up pitching 96% of it.

And a new rule was installed: You put junk in that particular room, and I will get rid of it as I see fit.

The last time we went back with BF’s truck, we hauled away 10 boxes of JUNK, 1 huge broken computer chair, and cleaned the room of its mess.

Did anyone notice? Probably not.

But the room looks a heck of a lot better. :)

I don’t think there’s anything shameful or wrong in living with your parents past the age of 19, or moving back in

Maybe it’s just my sort-of traditional upbringing, but I had lots of friends who lived with their parents, and some who still do.

Jillian says:  I have a few friends who still live with their parents.  If everybody’s fine and happy with it, then why not?

And they are normal, human beings who are not weirdo recluses who stay in their basement in their PJs all day, playing Dungeons and Dragons, shunning all human contact.

Jillian says: hahaha.  Consider this comment a shout out to someone.  You know who you are. :)

Some people think it’s a sign of weakness, or that you couldn’t hack it on your own, so you had to crawl back to mommy and daddy.

Jillian says:  I worry about this just a little.

Not me.

I already moved out on my own at 19, and proved I could be independent.

Jillian says: very true.

And when I moved back in the first time, it was for practical reasons, rather than emotional ones.

Jillian says: also very true.

I had a project in my so-called home city (Toronto is NOT Greater Toronto Area, people!! GTA is not “local” for me.), and I didn’t want to pay 12 months of rent to a stranger when I could just pay it to my parents.

This time, since I had already left the family home once, it meant I would move back as a contributing member and renter.

I paid $600 a month, bought my own food, stayed only for 4 days in Toronto and spent the other 3 in Montreal with BF.

Jillian says:  I pay rent also.  They will share most of what they buy in groceries with me, but I’m responsible for anything extra.  This is because we all want me to save my money (which I’m effectively doing!).  I help out as much as I can in other ways, when I’m even around.

For 8 months.

I also pulled my weight as a member of the family and became a typist & editor for my mom’s papers, garbage-taker-outter, official lunch-maker-and-packer, and a pianist at night.

This second time I will move back in with my parents, and with my BF, will not be because we cannot afford rent, or are running back home with our tails between our legs.

I am not ashamed at all for going back, and neither does BF feel weird for going back to my parents.

Jillian says:  we’re lucky to have the option and families who are happy to have us back.  Not everyone has that.

I wouldn’t feel strange going to his place to live if it was for practical reasons, and if I knew it wasn’t permanent.

Again, as always, it’s for practical reasons — that we don’t want to pay 12 months of rent to a stranger, as we could potentially be leaving after a month of being in Toronto, or after 7 months.

Plus, it’s a totally enclosed separate apartment on its own, and we can have our own privacy any time we want, with our own bathroom, kitchen and separate doors and entryways.

It’s like being tenants, while having the freedom to do what you want in your own space, AND roam to take over the rest of the house as well. :D

It’s uncertain how long we will stay in Toronto, and I’d rather take advantage of the available situation rather than getting an apartment, paying the same rent in the same area, just to prove a point.

I have no qualms (and neither does BF) about moving back in with my family.

It isn’t permanent, and we aren’t parasitic moochers.

Jillian says:  this is important for people on the outside to be aware of.

Besides, my mom is really craving the company at night, and we are planning on doing lots of chores that my much older mom cannot handle on her own, cooking and buying food for the family in addition to paying rent while we’re there.

Even with my older brother, they don’t find it weird that my dad has moved in with them to nanny their kids.

And I don’t either, because my dad gets paid a decent salary for doing it, and he WANTS to take care of his grandkids.

We’re family but we are not a family of moochers, even to each other.

We understand that nothing is really for free, even if we’re family.

Lessons learned so far

Living with your parents at the age of 19 or coming back when you’re 23, and 26, can be both annoying, but also comforting.

I found that over the years of not physically living with my sometimes very demanding, annoying parents, was that I grew closer emotionally.

I called my mom more. On a whim, just to hear how the family and she was doing.

I emailed my dad more, to show him pictures of food we made, and to promise to come back.

I actually even tried to get more sisterly with my brothers, and tentatively, it’s still walking on hot coals for some parts. But it’s getting there.

You sometimes need to move away to get closer.

Jillian says:  all of the above are so true.

Haha strange coincidence.  My mom just now knocked on my door and handed me a small bowl of sweet potato fries that were left from dinner and said “finish them.”

Those are the moments I’ll miss when I’m gone, and am hanging on to now while I can.  Lucky to be here.

Thanks again FB!  I couldn’t have said any of this better myself.

WB

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

Here’s a picture I took in Seekonk, MA of some birds while trying to hone my weak photography skillz.  There were a whole lotta birds that day.  What were they thinking?

birds on a wire

It’s been Writer’s Block City for me for the past few days.  How in the heck can I make it go away?  Stop the madness!

From One Nest To Another: Thank You

Sunday, January 17th, 2010

“No, I don’t think I have one of those…”

-my friend’s dad, after learning about what it means to be someone’s “beard”

As glad as I am that I came home to live, it was extremely hard leaving a lot of people that I really loved. So on Friday, I road tripped it to State College for a weekend with Sarah, one of my closest friends.  You’d think that living at home, I’d make the goal of a trip away a decidedly parent-free weekend.  Not so much.

Sarah lives at home with her folks (who are both fun and funny; see above) too, and her situation trumps mine in hilarity due to the fact that this home is located in a 55+ community.  It’s a pretty magical place, and I may have to consider convincing Patty and Dave to jump on that bandwagon.

Dr. and Mrs. H. rolled out the red carpet when they found out I was staying with them.  When I was still living in State College, they were always really awesome to me, and the weekend was no exception.  Wine when I walked in the door, all vegetarian meals (Mrs. H. makes a kick-ass mac and cheese), evening chauffeuring.  I’m really not that special.

Just yesterday I was thinking about how glad I am that my car has never given me any major problems since I got it in 2002, like not starting after I put the key in the ignition. I’m usually a big fan of irony, but not this time.

I go to head back to Newtown at noon today.  Car does not start.  I run back to the house and cry for help.  It is pouring rain.  We (and by “we” I mean mostly Dr. H.) jump the battery and the Rav comes back to life, but it is decided that I’ll be taking it to Firestone instead of the 150 miles home just yet.

Back at the old folks home, a plate of mac and cheese and cup of tea later, the Firestone car guy calls the house.  I’m told that my little Ravvy needs a brand new battery.  I am not told how much this new battery will cost.  In fact, I am straight up prohibited from paying for it myself, which I’m perfectly capable of doing.  Stop this madness!

All Dr. H did was make me promise to call AAA and check that my membership is still active.  I did.  It is.

thank you reminder

From now on, I’m only visiting friends who live with their parents.  To the H. family, you are the most amazingly nice people ever.  Thank you for being that way.