Wednesday 25 April 2012

The most bad-ass damsel in distress ever

Whenever I go to Home Depot, I seem to be wearing my very most feminine clothing. It's not intentional, I don't plan it that way, it just happens. It's not unusual for me to dress this way, but nothing draws my attention to it more than a good trip to the hardware store.

I stroll in, heels or knee-high boots clicking, and survey the store. At this point, I am feeling at least one, if not two, of two things.

If I know what I'm there for, I know how to use what I'm looking for, and I have a general idea of where it is: HELL YES. I am a total bad-ass. I can staple gun things. I can staple gun things while wearing a SKIRT AND HEELS. I can paint rooms! I am woman, hear me roar.

Or, if I've been sent on an errand by someone else, for something THEY need, and I have no idea what I'm looking for? Then I feel like the most pathetic version of a damsel in distress ever. Even my internal voice is talking with an annoying lilt: Um, I'm looking for a.... what do you call it? A hammer? I want to, um, build something? With nails? I'd use a hammer for that, right?

I'm making myself sound like a total ditz, and while my ineptitude at DIY does not extend to a lack of awareness about the use of hammers, it gets awfully close. And when I'm feeling insecure about my Home Depot knowledge, suddenly even hammers seem a little bit beyond me.

I wish I could tell in advance how I am going to feel whenever I walk into the store, but I simply can't. There are too many shades of grey-- I know what I want to do, but not what tools are required. I know general what I need, but not the details of the size or type, etc. It washes over me in waves-- bad-ass one moment, damsel in distress the next.

Who knew Home Depot could have such an effect on a person's sense of self?

Sunday 22 April 2012

Whimsy

If you read this blog at all regularly (HA! As if I WRITE this blog at all regularly!), you may recall that Neptune once called me a Butterfly Person. I'm fairly sure that he meant "someone who likes butterflies," not "someone who resembles a butterfly in terms of spirit and occasionally appearance," but I'm seizing on the latter description. I'm a Butterfly Person.

I take great, perhaps-uncalled-for joy in the minutia. Watching a dog eat peanut butter is enough to set me giggling. I find great satisfaction in squishing through mud in a pair of rain boots. I feel a little happy glow every time I see a flowering tree. I'm telling you, it doesn't take much.

So you can only imagine the unadulterated joy I feel at holidays. Holidays are an opportunity for me to direct all of my creative energy toward one specific purpose: Celebrating To the Extreme. There are themed activities! Decorations! Meals! The point is not WHAT the holiday is, but rather THAT the holiday is. I celebrate Easter, St. Patrick's Day, Christmas, and Chinese New Year with abandon. (Though not necessarily equal abandon-- depends on time available, my over all enthusiasm for the holiday, etc. I can pretty much guarantee, though, that I will celebrate and decorate more than most people.)

I'm a visual person. Are you as well? Here's a photo-journey through my whimsy...

Chinese New Year:

Decorated plates, hong bao, new chopsticks!

Fancy pancakes!


Valentine's Day


(Neptune made these super hero lollipops for Valentine's Day.)


St. Patrick's Day



Easter



Friday 13 April 2012

Spring

It's Spring here, in the Greater Seattle Area. Finally! I'm not sure it will last (we tend to alternate between winter and spring for a while), but while it's here, I'm rejoicing. Not only am I enjoying the gorgeous weather (high 50s-mid 60s, sunny), but I'm also loving everyone's reaction to it.

When it's sunny here, we can't help but talk about it. In fact, we struggle to have other conversations. It doesn't matter whether you're talking to your boss or co-worker, a doctor, waitress, or your kid-- every conversations seems to begin and end with, "Have you SEEN the SUN?" We start talking about hikes, picnics, visits to playgrounds, iced lattes, and flowers. We turn very pale shades of pink, as our skin reacts to this unfamiliar bright orb in the sky. We plan all of our activities around the weather, refusing to be inside longer than strictly necessary, feeling guilty if we (god forbid) CHOOSE to be indoors when being outside is also an option.

It's sunny here. And that's all I'm capable of talking about.