5,000 steps back.

This sweatshirt is being sold in JC Penny stores.

Is this...real life?

 

Wow JCP, not even gonna pussyfoot around that stereotype are we? Just gonna come right on out and say it.

So I guess the answer to your insipid refrain at the end of your commericals is incorrect.

No JC Penny, no. I do not love your style.

The Well Is Dry.

I walked around all day long with a strawberry seed in between my two front teeth.

Nobody told me.

Charming.

Obsessions Don’t Have Preliminaries.

Cole Porter makes Mondays a little less “monday.”

Spoiler Alert: I’m not Depressed

Do you remember those commercials from a couple years ago?

The “this is what depression looks like” campaign?

Well I feel like my apartment looks like the ones they showed in the background.

I hate that I keep cleaning it and it keeps getting messy.

I just have no motivation to do much of anything.

Except for maybe watch endless episodes of Mad Men.

I described it to Troy today perfectly.

I feel like its the end of the semester and everyone else finished their finals early and I’m stuck here.

I have one more week of work and its at the zoo.

On top of that I have to pack.

Have I mentioned that?

Yes. I have.

It Never Comes Easily

Beautiful and Soft

In art class with the 4 year olds we were discussing different textures.

We were talking about rough and used sandpaper as an example. To contrast that the teaching artist instructed the kids to feel the skin on their arms as an example of smooth.

One of the 4 year olds is this adorable if not exasperating kid from Brazil. English is his second language, he speaks enough to get by and understands a little less I think.

*As a side note if you think its difficult to reason with a 4 year old, try reasoning with a 4 year old and add a language barrier. I have a whole new respect for esl teachers. Hoo boy!*

Later in the class little ESL friend chattered right over the teaching artist who was explaining the art project for the day with something very important to say:

“Arm I has. Is mine. Is Soft. Is Beautiful.”

The teaching artist and I have been working tirelessly all week at getting him to listen and follow directions, to sit in his seat in the circle and not interrupt, to just generally follow classroom conventions but after his little profound outburst we both just made eye contact and smiled and stifled some laughter. It was a metaphorical throwing up of the hands.

Because its week 10 of the summer.

And because we do have arms.

And they are beautiful.

And they are soft.

Can’t argue with that.

Be Still My Beating Heart.

As if this wasn’t hot enough:

He had to go and do this:

Limbo Land

Tags

packing is the devil's work., travel

As I write this I have exactly 11 days left in Seattle ( I am not counting the day I fly home, since I’ll be leaving around 10 am Pacific Time.)

Those who know me understand that travel is something that stresses me out endlessly.

Its not necessarily the matter of being in a new place, but more the idea of getting from point A to point B. There’s a lot of margin for error.

There is also packing.

Times like these I think it would be nice to be so wealthy that I could throw money at things like packing.

For instance I highly doubt Paris Hilton has ever packed a bag in her life. If she gets to her destination without her toothbrush or her towels she just buys it. In fact I think she’s so rich that she just mentions needing to buy something and it miraculously appears before her.

Gee that’d be nice.

I’m already plotting things to leave behind (a set of sheets for example, a huge bottle of face wash etc.) and hoping my subletter will just enjoy the free stuff and not be annoyed.

My internship is winding down and I can’t help but feel a little…checked out.

Even the teaching artists are burnt out.

“Week ten!” they grumble.

With the loss of my two most beloved interns it feels strange that I’m still here.

I’m in such a state of “hurry up and wait” that I really can’t even write an interesting post.

Sorry internet.

If I stayed in Seattle.

Tags

screwed up poetry.

If I stayed in Seattle I would find me a man.

One who works at Boeing.

Or Amazon.

Or Microsoft.

Or for the Gates Foundation.

OOohhh yeah baby. The Gates Foundation.

He’d be smart but down to earth and handsome in a rugged way.

He’d be real and self deprecating (but only enough to still be charming.)

He’d be laid back and when I objected to his sister’s suggestion that we raise the kids on the paleo diet he’d shrug his shoulders and back me up.

We’d go on hikes some weekends but we’d go to brunch some weekends too.

He would understand, encourage, and celebrate my east coast sensibilities which cause me to wear a bra every singe day and engage in the occasional bout of witty banter requiring sarcasm.

We’d get a dog and take it on long walks around our gentrified neighborhood where our little two bedroom bungalow stood.

I’d grow a garden and the kids would help me pick the fresh vegetables and fruits it yielded.

I’d buy fancy little lunchboxes and challenge myself to send my children to school with the fanciest lunches ever.

When the weather started to make me crazy we’d get away to Hawaii.

We’d drive a hybrid.

We’d eat too much salmon.

We’d have subscriptions and memberships to the theaters and museums downtown.

We’d wear flannel in all our family portraits.

We’d buy stock in Marmot and Columbia.

We’d smell like teen spirit.

He’d want me to go camping.

I would resist but eventually give in.

Hold on hun I'll be right there, I'm just unloading the homebrewed stout from the Prius!

Deal Breaker

Seemingly Cute Guy: I’ve been watching Mad Men recently, I like it but I can’t put my finger on why really.

Me: I’ll tell you exactly why. Exactly. Wanna know why?

SCG: Hahaha okay, why?

Me: Don Draper. He’s so mysterious and interesting, you want to know everything about him.

SCG: you’re probably right.

Me: I’m always right. Oh Don Draper, how I love him.

SCG: Haha oh okay well you can keep Don as long as I get January Jones.

Me: What?! You’d pick Betty. Betty over Joan?!

SCG: Oh yes Betty all the way.

Me: Hmmm interesting….

Tsk Tsk Mr. SCG, no more supply of bourbon in your file cabinet for you!