party on the weeknight

...oftentimes regrettable after the party is over.

this guy I don't know very well, a nice guy who I don't feel comfortable being my characteristically outspoken self toward, made me a drink, to be nice...with gin, as gin is my favorite poison, and it included an energy drink. I don't do energy drinks, but didn't want to be a douche. So I drank it.

And now I have a science experiment in my stomach, I think. The kind that involves baking soda and vinegar, and a large misshapen doughy mass to brew it... the doughy mass being me in this case. And I've an annual strategic planning session to attend and participate in at work tomorrow. Whee!

On a completely unrelated note, I had a moment of realization on the way home tonight that pretty much everyone in the world wears some type of shoes. We are all united by shoes. I'm not sure what other non-essential-to-survival, tangible, everyday things people of the world might have in common. That kind of amazed me. No drugs involved.

oh and I almost forgot

-has anyone been catching the sunsets of late? holy moses. -they're incredible, cloudless beauty.

with the bluish mountains and the graduated orange sky, it's been conspicuously Parrish.

swoon.

monsoon wedding

...what a lovely movie. By far the best I've seen in a while.

I just finished the film and it makes me want to wear rich colors, travel to India, get married, and dance to electronica and exotic sitar-ry music at the same time.

I'm such a sucker. Especially for looooove.

Though I easily am moved by the screen and cry at just about every movie, I almost never watch them more than once, and especially not in close sequence. I might have to for this one, however.

Does this qualify as Bollywood? I think probably not, but I might have to see what Bollywood is about- branch out from my Euro-centric foreign film repertoire.

the finer things

had an excellent weekend; this may be largely due to the fact that I let go of all obligations that I tend to let plague my weekend (parental, chores, etc.) . also, the weather here has taken a surprising turn for the amazing, when a week or two ago it was as if a toggle was suddenly flipped and the grey arrived. here we go, i thought, here are the next nine months. but alas! it will be eighty tomorrow.

saturday i met up with a friend from work and we made a pilgrimage downtown to the third H&M to open up in a previously H&M-less Northwest. though I did find some good stuff, somehow when i went to new york last fall and spring i felt the selection in attire was much more overwhelmingly incredible. maybe it's just the current stock, or the fact that i'm depriving myself the right to splurge in light of the upcoming expensive move that i couldn't allow myself to go crazy. got some work clothes out of the deal, however.

the pandemonious environment of the recently-opened store drained us and gave us need for sustenance, so we headed to happy hour drinks and sushi. after two drinks, i came up with the amusing idea that my friend, getting married next month and still without wedding band, needed a trip to tiffany's.




this is quite funny to me, as i'd describe myself as somewhat anti-capitalist, and pretty socialist, and definitely of the money-conscious, practical scandinavian tradition. i don't think i've ever actually been in a jewelry store, really. but we walked in that giant, stainless-steel revolving door into another world and ogled the shinies together. she tried on bands and bands, getting ideas for things to eventually match to her heirloom engagement ring.

i watched, somewhat like i would had i been dropped into a tea ceremony in kyoto. interested, but relatively estranged from it all. so pretty. so incredibly sparkly. she was trying on plain bands, and bands studded with diamonds, and though they were all small and dainty, some of them ran upwards of five thousand bucks. the lady kept brining them out, shifting them around, and after a couple had sat out for a while, and i'd been invited to join in, i picked up a thin one that seemed to just be a ring of diamonds miraculously merged together and slipped it on. i don't wear jewelry on my hands as I find myself fidgety or rashy when i do, but i was blown away and slightly betrayed by myself by actually liking the really expensive fanciness. i'm not sure if it was that ring in particular, which I really liked, but it actually looked good on my pale finger.

when i think about it, it makes sense that a designer would fall prey to something so aesthetic. i think about nice aesthetics for a living. sadly, i have unfortunately expensive taste, no matter how small or least-consumptive i try to live, it won't go away. that tiny little circlet on my finger was four thousand dollars. cost aside, it was the simple shiny-sparkley factor that turned me into what felt like some horrible stereotype of the superficial yuppie girl: we had literally gone shopping for dresses, handbags, and shoes, had sushi alongside fruity drinks in martini glasses, and then tried on diamonds at tiffany's. really?

the best part was that we decided to look at and inquire the price on, in good fun, of this beautiful necklace that greeted us at the front when we walked in. turn-of-the-century and edwardian-esque in style, it was diamondy and chandeliery and divine. the lady was happy to show it to my friend, who had the perfect wedding dress waiting for the necklace. as we both tried it on, finnicking with the tiny, delicate clasp, the woman told us the price- thirteen thousand dollars. perfect! we'll take two.

the surprisingly down-to-earth, accommodating folks behind the counter should not be underestimated... they know what they're doing. they and the lighting designers for the space; it feels like some sort of parallel glamorous universe in there.

but really, as ridiculous as it all was, i relish adventures like this. i feel like a willingness to do whatever, no matter how outside of my norm, accompanies a happier me, with a better sense of self. i'm open-minded and am enjoying experiencing new things.

shiny new things.

rock out

I just got some great new albums and am diggin' em. these are a few:

Ra Ra Riot
Brazilian Girls
Stereolab
The Ting Tings

that's all I got for now. I really need to go to bed.

oh, and one thing

I'm really hoping I don't die in my sleep tonight.

I'm about to go to bed, and I woke up last night in the middle of the night, like 3:30 a.m.. I woke up with the worst food-poisoning symptoms and was up for an hour or two after that. No fun.

I slept in and recovered in time to make it to my exciting annual office survey meeting today, but am now feeling a little crampy in the suspect area again. I'm just hoping I don't go the way of my first-grade teacher, who mysteriously died of e-coli in her sleep, out of the blue.

I recently saw a movie where the lead character was getting teased about being a middle-aged woman living alone, and how sad it is when people die by accident choking or falling while living alone, and now it's making me, usually the epitome of devil-may-care, slightly paranoid. I may not be middle-aged yet, but I do eat real fast, and those things that others might be concerned about the age of.

Here's to waking up to face another day at the office...

a dark place

yeah, it's night... but that's not necessarily what I'm getting at.

I came back from the weekend feeling totally unrested, and today I've been kind of out of it. Some of this can be rationalized, but for some reason I find myself generally in a bad mood. I will blame part of this on hormones. I could blame some as well on the cooling weather and shortening days (I can smell SAD in the air)...

Sometimes I wonder how much of our temperments, our moods, are intrinsic to our beings. Sounds a little ridiculous and esoteric, perhaps, but our minds are all built differently, and the network within is all interconnected. In this age of Zoloft, Ritalin, Vallium, and Xanax, I wonder about the affects this has on our personalities. What is innate, and what is fixable or expendable? Our individual creativities... substances that alter our brain chemistries most certainly do alter us as people, if only temporarily.

I get very frustrated when I can't find my keys about 2/3 of the time I go to leave, or continuously forget things at home. I am embarrassingly disorganized at times. Sometimes I'd like to take a pill and have it all fall into place- I fold my clothes and put them away when I take them off. I put the bread back in the drawer when I'm done with it. I file my bills rather than strewing them about the kitchen table.

But it's not my nature. I don't focus my energy on the routine. I am creative, and though rational, somewhat frenetic. If I were to alter my mind to be more routine and focused, I would likely lose the part of me that sees humor in junk mail advertisements, that can find a use for a random found doll leg (friends' mailboxes, of course), or can devise grandiose collages out of bus transfers gathered over 9 months. The part of me that can add coconut and almonds to a cupcake and get a creature that's a striking bunny resemblance, without recipes. I'd probably lose the embarrassingly explosive laugh tendency, or my excessive inquisitiveness, both that define me. So who would I be then? I guess that's what keeps me putting up with repeated incidents of leaving my travel mug full of coffee at home in the morning. Sometimes I wish I wasn't the person sacrificing sleep hours the night before a client meeting to repeatedly adjust the size of a picture of Salvador Dali with a funny looking cat to fit her blog entry.

I think about famous artists, the crazy ones. The Pollacks and the Van Goghs and the Dalis. We all know that plenty of artists experimented with drugs in the name of creativity (Toulouse Lautrec, Jimi Hendrix...), but where would the odd souls have been, creatively, had we had the magic back them to diagnose disorders and tendencies and made them more even-keeled? What would our playhouses, art galleries, and concert halls be like?

When it comes down to it, we are all both individuals, responsible for our own happiness and well-being, and members of a society, responsible for the effect we have on our communities and societies. We have to strike as healthy of a balance as we can between those responsibilities.

I'm going to chew on that. And go to sleep- and I hope I wake up a little happier version of myself tomorrow.

ny news

After pushing it out day after day due to busy schedules, I finally got a call from the New York principal, and as a miracle I was at my desk, and it went better than I could have possibly imagined. I think she is truly interested in me; we had a good chat that included me learning that all of her practice line (corporate speak for market of focus) is public realm city stuff (read: new york city parks, greenways, and playgrounds, etc.) which I am totally pumped for. They have a contract to redesign forty asphalt schoolyards into new playgrounds that they'll be starting on the second half of soon, and I'm totally incredibly a hundred and fifty nine percent into the idea. It's exactly what I want to do.

I'm supposed to hear back from her next week after she talks with the rest of her studio, my fingers are crossed. Many times crossed.

places to dream about, or someday dream inside

I spend a lot of time thinking about my environment, as a designer (and your environment, and everyone else's). Over time, and after many living arrangements, however, I've lessened the reigns, per se, of my obsession with my living space. My first apartment definitely got more aesthetic attention than my later ones. You begin to run out of steam after moving every year or two.



I'm not, however, completely cured of my craigslist or redfin browsing, which I go through periodic bouts of... homes on the market up the street at Highland Drive or charming homes in France or New York, I'm guilty of fantasizing about potential alternate habitats. I love the light, airy, wall-of-windows modern lofts. I love the exposed-brick manhattan apartments. J'adore the Parisian ones with their tall, skinny windows that open up to wrought-iron juliet balconies with thin, scrolled handles. I have fond feelings for the standard Seattle 1920's wood-floored, brick construction one-bedrooms with hexagonal tiles in the bathroom, and turqouise-trimmed tilework in the kitchen.

I like to go for walks on Queen Anne and look at the lovely homes and wonder what life inside them is like. Dusk is the best time for it, when the lights are beginning to turn on and you can see the fireplaces, paint colors, and any ceiling detail. I have an incurable weakness for good ceilings. I love coffered ones, exposed beams, coved ones, you name it (my favorite might be coffered, or anything with good, unpainted woodwork.). I love the ceilings in old and elegant European cities' buildings that have intricate moulding, or tin panels.


I was reading the New York Times today online and flipped through the real estate slide shows (as I do fairly regularly, I'm addicted to nyt slideshows) when I came across a great apartment in Berlin. I love the simple quality of the space... light and bright, simple and modern, with heavy historical details in the walls and ceiling mouldings. An ideal city digs. The dark, modern finishes in the kitchen, replete with chandelier, and the simple, clean walls... I'd totally hit that. Of course, I'd have to add a garden gnome somewhere, and sprinkle a few other ridiculous pieces around.

With the killer balcony, I'd have the perfect location for a flamingo or two, as well...

I've relegated myself to potentially having to live in a shoebox in new york. I don't expect my own Sex In The City apartment in The Village, or anything like this flat, but a girl can dream... someday, maybe, a little moulding or coffers, or scroll-ey handles.

In New York...

Anything Is Possible