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December 2006
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February 2007

Martha vs Rachael

Martha I got a 725 page book from my mom for Christmas this year. "Martha Stewart's Homekeeping Handbook: The essential guide to caring for everything in your home." Basically, it's a guide for being perfect. Which I am not. Not even close. So, while I'm flipping through this massive book occasionally thinking "damn, I'm even more of a lazy piece of shit than I thought!" I ask my mom:

"Hey, what do you think of Rachael Ray?" She frowns a little. "Well, I don't like her."

"No? I love her! Why don't you like her." She smiled at my use of her pet peeve in Americans, the overuse of the word love.

"She's too fast. Her hair is wild. She doesn't plan ahead or measure and she just ..." so basically, she's not her beloved Martha. Who, my mom explains, is calm, organized and gives credit to the women in America who kick ass at keeping a home. I'm paraphrasing a little. I want to be one of those women. I really, really do. But I am so, so not. My mom, on the other hand, could teach even ol' Martha a thing or two.

But secretly, I do love the book. It might be my passport to reaching my lifelong goal of organizing everything.


for mami

You were meant to be my mother.

i wish i'd known then

that i would feel this way today.

maybe it would've been easier between us.

but maybe if it had, i wouldn't feel

so grateful for our relationship now.

i wish i could say we always got along.

i wish i could look back without regrets.

for all the times you drove to pick me up

when i couldn't sleep at the slumber party i was at.

for all the times you packed a healthy lunch

for the hours you spent arguing with me in

various dressing rooms teaching me taste and style

for the patience and consistency it took to teach me

the manners which give me confidence today to enter any situation

with grace and ease.

for the times you let me fail so i could learn

and for the times you stayed up late

to help me meet my goals.

for understanding when my heart was broken

and for promising it would heal.

for every time you turned down my bed

to welcome me home.

for the countless paperwork you did

to enroll me in camps, lessons and classes

and for driving me to the library

for teaching me to return my books on time.

for letting me go to grow into my own person

for loving me with all my hair colors

and also for paying to strip my hair

when i came to and saw goth was not a good look for me

for teaching me to be kind - to write thank you notes

and to ask for what i want - for teaching me

to give my time to help people - to smile at

strangers and to see beyond the surface of people

i know i will continue to realize more things

i learned from you for the rest of my life but

for now i want to thank you

for all that and more.

you were meant to be my mother

because there could be no other

who knows and loves me the way you do.


Swiss Bed

Lucys_new_bed_2 Lucy got a little bed from Matt's mom when we came to Walla Walla for Christmas. And she really seemed to like it. For about a week.

Matt comes home the other night and starts praising Lucy for being such a good girl.
"She really is a great dog you know."
"Mmmhmmm." I bring out something I think he needs to see.

Lucys_swiss_bed_1 "Before you get carried away with being all proud of her, check this out." I hold up her doggie bed which is now more of a Swiss bed. With plenty of ventilation. Matt scrunches his face for a second before saying, "Well, that thing is really more for poodles or chihuahuas." So, you know, we're keeping things pretty strict around here.

Lucys_scolding_1 (Here's a picture of me scolding her, very sternly as you can see).


More later

Overwhelmed. More later. Having one of those days ... er, weeks, where it seems overwhelming to do the dishes after work, not to mention writing or do anything else creative. I am amazed at how much a spirited little puppy can lift my spirits though! Dscf2534_1In this picture you can see in her eyes why we sometimes think we subconciously named her Lucy, short for Lucifer.