down to the dregs \12.10\
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Labels:
coffee,
everyday
With the way that November disappeared, I already foresee the next week and a half whizzing past me. So things got a little crafty this weekend. You see, I somehow started this belief in my family that I'm creative. Hallmark has been deemed an unacceptable substitute, Mom and Grandma wait in expectation of what I can come up with on my own.
Most of my cards are a project in upcycling - paper scraps, magazine clippings, bits of ribbon, shapes made from cereal box, and so many other found objects. It helps that I also have a little cache of paints, markers, glues, and the oh-so-necessary X-ACTO knife.
Truth be told, I always think about the effort that goes into these cards with a lack of anticipation. It takes a lot of time and effort, constantly generating new ideas and putting them into effect. Then something funny happens, I get absorbed in the process. Once I get started, I can't stop thinking, "What else?"
Over time I've learned that the trick is to start early. If Christmas isn't until December 25, then December 9 gives me a good cushion to work on a little bit at a time. I don't feel rushed and make work that I'm not proud of.
On one hand it feels a little ridiculous that I'm nearly 29 years old and still creating homemade Christmas, birthday and Mother's Day cards. Then I remember that there's a huge crafting industry and a lot of women older than me making homemade cards...scrapbooks...and so many other things. And I must say that my current array of cards have a bit more panache than the washable Crayola marker on computer paper variety of days past.
coffee table takeover \12.09\
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Labels:
cards,
crafts,
holiday
Most of my cards are a project in upcycling - paper scraps, magazine clippings, bits of ribbon, shapes made from cereal box, and so many other found objects. It helps that I also have a little cache of paints, markers, glues, and the oh-so-necessary X-ACTO knife.
Truth be told, I always think about the effort that goes into these cards with a lack of anticipation. It takes a lot of time and effort, constantly generating new ideas and putting them into effect. Then something funny happens, I get absorbed in the process. Once I get started, I can't stop thinking, "What else?"
Over time I've learned that the trick is to start early. If Christmas isn't until December 25, then December 9 gives me a good cushion to work on a little bit at a time. I don't feel rushed and make work that I'm not proud of.
On one hand it feels a little ridiculous that I'm nearly 29 years old and still creating homemade Christmas, birthday and Mother's Day cards. Then I remember that there's a huge crafting industry and a lot of women older than me making homemade cards...scrapbooks...and so many other things. And I must say that my current array of cards have a bit more panache than the washable Crayola marker on computer paper variety of days past.
It's not that I'm Scrooge, I just don't have quite as much holiday cheer as most people. Working in retail kind of turned me off holiday music. Unless it's *NSYNC - Home for Christmas; that stuff is pure magic. And I'm also a sucker for the ultimate Mariah holiday song. I won't even deign to name it, you're already hearing it in your head.
One of the lines that I draw is a Christmas tree. First of all, logistically, this studio apartment just isn't made for it. Then there's the hassle of getting it in and out of the building, cleaning up after it, decorating and undecorating. I'm tired just thinking about it. So I'll just enjoy the scent of other people's trees when I visit.
Instead I've figured out a purpose for the fireplace, which otherwise serves as a rather vestigial part of my apartment. (Thanks to the baseboard heat that never stops pumping - in fact, my window is open right now.) I've taken to calling this my Christmas vignette. A little $6 holiday celebration of red lights, ornaments, vases and a candle. Fifteen minutes a year to unpack, set up, take down, and put away annually.
I don't make Christmas cookies, but I love to eat them. I can't remember the last time I watched a traditional holiday movie, but I've seen most of Lifetime and ABC Family's repertoires. They're horrible and I love every second of it. I own zero ugly holiday sweaters or Santa hats. Everyone celebrates the holidays in their own way, this just happens to be my way.
I also really wanted to play with my camera's settings in a situation containing twinkle lights. As you can tell from the two similar, yet somehow distinctly different, photos that I've included today.
trail of light \12.08\
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Labels:
christmas,
decorations,
lights
It's not that I'm Scrooge, I just don't have quite as much holiday cheer as most people. Working in retail kind of turned me off holiday music. Unless it's *NSYNC - Home for Christmas; that stuff is pure magic. And I'm also a sucker for the ultimate Mariah holiday song. I won't even deign to name it, you're already hearing it in your head.One of the lines that I draw is a Christmas tree. First of all, logistically, this studio apartment just isn't made for it. Then there's the hassle of getting it in and out of the building, cleaning up after it, decorating and undecorating. I'm tired just thinking about it. So I'll just enjoy the scent of other people's trees when I visit.
Instead I've figured out a purpose for the fireplace, which otherwise serves as a rather vestigial part of my apartment. (Thanks to the baseboard heat that never stops pumping - in fact, my window is open right now.) I've taken to calling this my Christmas vignette. A little $6 holiday celebration of red lights, ornaments, vases and a candle. Fifteen minutes a year to unpack, set up, take down, and put away annually.
I don't make Christmas cookies, but I love to eat them. I can't remember the last time I watched a traditional holiday movie, but I've seen most of Lifetime and ABC Family's repertoires. They're horrible and I love every second of it. I own zero ugly holiday sweaters or Santa hats. Everyone celebrates the holidays in their own way, this just happens to be my way.
I also really wanted to play with my camera's settings in a situation containing twinkle lights. As you can tell from the two similar, yet somehow distinctly different, photos that I've included today.
It's amazing how exhausting continuous days of mental exertion can be. Or simply shaving off three hours of sleep that you're accustomed to. It seems to fine tune all of my senses. Noises seem louder, sharper, more clamorous. Smells are too pungent, all-encompassing. Lights are too bright. Yet, everything tastes good.
All I could think about in my mental and physical exhaustion was the delicious comfort of carbohydrate-laden foods. My body was yearning for bread and pasta. So I indulged. I met head on with an act of winter hibernation survival. And I relished every ounce of those carbs, feeling guilty for none of it. Even topping off the night with a little Ghiradelli chocolate ice cream for good measure.
Now I'm happily full, sleepier than ever, and barely making it through this post with open eyes. I will dig deep for the effort required to transfer from my cozy state on the couch, only because my bed has so much more real estate and better pillows.
bulbs and baubles \12.07\
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Labels:
christmas,
decorations
All I could think about in my mental and physical exhaustion was the delicious comfort of carbohydrate-laden foods. My body was yearning for bread and pasta. So I indulged. I met head on with an act of winter hibernation survival. And I relished every ounce of those carbs, feeling guilty for none of it. Even topping off the night with a little Ghiradelli chocolate ice cream for good measure.
Now I'm happily full, sleepier than ever, and barely making it through this post with open eyes. I will dig deep for the effort required to transfer from my cozy state on the couch, only because my bed has so much more real estate and better pillows.
It's way past my bedtime. And I just got home. This is unusual for me, even on a weekend night. But in the name of professional responsibility, I have spent a night imbibing and mingling. All while wearing heels and standing in them for what seemed like an endless number of hours. Also, I'm not sure that I've ever seen so many pairs of black heels in one place at the same time.
What I've learned: everyone in media and media buying knows one another, and I do not. But I managed to run into an old co-worker, so my social tally wasn't completely vacant. And we hosted a few clients in our group, so I suppose they count as familiar faces. Few people surpassed the 35-year-old mark; I'm even willing to bet that the average age was closer to 25 than 30. You could sense a little of that "not far removed from college" essence as the night drew out.
As responsible adults, we returned to the office just before midnight to gather our laptops and belongings. The security dudes seemed less than pleased to see us, disdainful of our ability to ascertain (without assistance or prior knowledge) that you must swipe AND push the handicap accessible button to enter the office after hours.
Thus, at 11:45 Mountain Standard Time, I leave you for the comfort of my pillow. Thankful that my morning commute consists of staggering from my bed to whichever sitting place in my apartment I decide to reside in.
lights, logo, legs \12.06\
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Labels:
light,
logo,
party
What I've learned: everyone in media and media buying knows one another, and I do not. But I managed to run into an old co-worker, so my social tally wasn't completely vacant. And we hosted a few clients in our group, so I suppose they count as familiar faces. Few people surpassed the 35-year-old mark; I'm even willing to bet that the average age was closer to 25 than 30. You could sense a little of that "not far removed from college" essence as the night drew out.
As responsible adults, we returned to the office just before midnight to gather our laptops and belongings. The security dudes seemed less than pleased to see us, disdainful of our ability to ascertain (without assistance or prior knowledge) that you must swipe AND push the handicap accessible button to enter the office after hours.
Thus, at 11:45 Mountain Standard Time, I leave you for the comfort of my pillow. Thankful that my morning commute consists of staggering from my bed to whichever sitting place in my apartment I decide to reside in.
Sometimes I'm intensely dedicated to tasks and projects. At other times I pretend they don't exist until I've run out of time. The latter category is where I'd place shopping 99% of the time. That encompasses clothing, shoes, home goods, groceries, and so forth. Maybe it's the overstimulation of so many choices between stores and products. It would make sense with my penchant for list making.
For weeks I've intended to buy skinny black pants to wear with my boots, particularly for a work event that I'm attending tomorrow. I'm sure you can guess when I decided to go in pursuit of those pants. If I had a magical, go-to store where I already knew that everything fit me, maybe it would be a different story. Instead I did a tour of State Street, ended up at Macy's, and bought a pair of pants that I'm not entirely convinced that I like. But there was no way that I was continuing the shopping charade.
I have no doubt that I am not the only person who suffers from an acute case of procrastination. (Although, for many, shopping probably doesn't fall in that category.) I can feel myself doing it when I receive certain emails, perhaps because I have to deliver a negative response or put effort into digging up an answer. If I let my dishes pile in the sink for more than a day, they're likely to stay there for five. They become more and more intimidating as time passes.
Books and blogs and supposed experts all have their tips to prevent procrastination, but do you really think there's anyone with a 100% success rate? Someone who always works steadily through the things that are handed to them, without question? If I wanted to play with semantics, I could just say that what I'm doing is prioritizing.
hitting the (tiffany) glass ceiling \12.05\
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Labels:
architecture,
ceiling,
tile
For weeks I've intended to buy skinny black pants to wear with my boots, particularly for a work event that I'm attending tomorrow. I'm sure you can guess when I decided to go in pursuit of those pants. If I had a magical, go-to store where I already knew that everything fit me, maybe it would be a different story. Instead I did a tour of State Street, ended up at Macy's, and bought a pair of pants that I'm not entirely convinced that I like. But there was no way that I was continuing the shopping charade.
I have no doubt that I am not the only person who suffers from an acute case of procrastination. (Although, for many, shopping probably doesn't fall in that category.) I can feel myself doing it when I receive certain emails, perhaps because I have to deliver a negative response or put effort into digging up an answer. If I let my dishes pile in the sink for more than a day, they're likely to stay there for five. They become more and more intimidating as time passes.
Books and blogs and supposed experts all have their tips to prevent procrastination, but do you really think there's anyone with a 100% success rate? Someone who always works steadily through the things that are handed to them, without question? If I wanted to play with semantics, I could just say that what I'm doing is prioritizing.