About a year ago (good god, it’s already been a year, shame on me) a friend of mine and I made a pact that we would call ourselves by what we truly were: artists. She, a dancer. Me, a writer. We made a deal with each other that we would have the courage to speak our hearts about ourselves. But here we are a year later, and I am still afraid.

When I left for our cruise a couple of weeks ago, I reminded myself of this promise. I said to myself, “When I meet people, I will tell them I am a writer. No excuses. For what do I have to lose? I will never see them after I get off the boat.”

One person asked me what I do. Just one, and still I faltered. I said I was a writer, but when she asked me what I write, I stumbled. I talked about my passion as if it were driftwood, a piece of boring slate grey dead limb pieces. And the conversation stopped. Talk about it that way, why would she be interested? I’d go numb too.

And as I heard the stupid words tumble from my mouth, I felt ashamed. Like I’d been caught with the silly frock and smeared red lipstick. I saw disappointment in her eyes, but I think it was just a mirror of my own.

I know the only thing that keeps me from fitting in the frock as if I belong and wearing that lipstick with grace is courage. In my head I know this. But then my heart whispers: sometimes people say they like my words, but would they really buy them? So I don’t tug too hard on the lace-lined dress, for I think it might unravel in my hands.

This week’s challenge: Metaphors and similes. Let’s play around with making up our own metaphors and similes. Create your own metaphor or simile, then write something using it. Link it up in the comments section below and please do stop and visit others’ entries to spread a little love.

Next week’s challenge: I don’t know about you, but I’m addicted to adjectives and adverbs. But I hear writing can be strengthened and made more precise without qualifying words. So this week’s challenge is to trim the fat. Write anything you like. Then go back and eliminate all the adverbs (if you’re extra daring, you can try adjectives too…using color is okay though). Erase anything that ends in -ly. Then rewrite those parts/phrases to mean what you meant, without using the adverb.

So here are my 5 things…and many thanks to Heather for the inspiration.

5 {new} things I’m trying:
* take better care of my skin with regular exfoliating masks & day creams
* various types of deep-fried white fish for dinner
* finding more great blogs to follow
* tube mascara (should arrive in the mail soon. excited for smudge-free wear but skeptical about tubes on my lashes.)
* to encourage myself to drink more water by adding cucumber slices or a few drops of lime juice for flavor

5 things I’m glad I did
* washed my car (so needed! plus it made for a fun day in the sun)
*  took a day off yesterday for girl time
* watched Inception. twice.
* went home for the weekend last weekend.
* took a moment to count my blessings rather than complain.

5 things I’m looking forward to:
* movies at the drive-in theater tonight with friends
* taking pictures at the drive-in
* Alex & Manouchka coming back to the States
* doing research for my next novel
* getting my brand spanking new passport

5 {reasons} I Go On even when I want to Quit
* my husband
* my parents
* my sister
* my brother
* my pride (I hope it’s the proper kind)

5 {diamonds} in the rough:
* a husband who shares my values & outlook on life, who can make me laugh when I want to cry
* finding my dream
* pursuing it
* the love of my nieces. there is nothing like the love of a child, is there? that something so pure could look at you and love you so hard. it’s humbling.
* fruit in summer

Happy Friday, everyone!

I separated my list into things we’ll bring with us on the plane, things that can be shipped, “maybe” items, things to pack in storage, and things to pack at my parents’ home in case we need them. I’ll need to come up with an organizational scheme and probably an itemized list so anything we leave behind can be found quickly and efficiently if needed. (Told you I was anal.)

I stared at my list.

Then I made a new list: Things I Can Remember to Do If I Feel Homesick
- Get a hairwash, mani/pedi, or massage (because pampering in Thailand will cost about 75 cents)
- Talk to loved ones on Skype or Facebook
- Go for a swim in the pool (the houses we’re looking at usually have community pools)
- Go for a photo walk
- Watch Pride & Prejudice

Most of those items won’t make up for home, but I think they’ll help reduce anxiety and get my mind off it in healthy ways.

Somewhat paradoxically, however, I am actually comforted to get a sense of how little we’re actually going to bring with us. It helps that most things we’ll need we can get more cheaply in Thailand than if we ship it. But it’s also nice to know, with most things, we travel light.

* Photo courtesy of http://www.thailand.quickonthenet.com/

I stumbled across his book after a friend posted a link to the author’s speech. You should watch it first. It will give you a really good idea what his book is about. Plus he’s a really entertaining speaker.

His book is called The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything, and oh my is it ever true. He makes a lot of beautiful points about what it takes to find what he calls “the element”: that nexus between aptitude and passion, where what you’re good at meets what you love doing. Through countless examples of really successful people who found success through extraordinary means, Robinson shows how so many people go through life thinking they are not creative, or they’re not particularly good at anything, when nothing could be further from the truth. But true creativity, authenticity, and talent gets crushed by our educational system because it promotes one kind of success, one way of thinking, one route to fulfillment, and it’s becoming ever more standardized and forces children ever more towards conformity.

But when it comes to learning and growing and performing, there is not just one style. He says, “Never underestimate the vital importance of finding early in life the work that for you is play. This turns possible underachievers into happy warriors.” Never underestimate the importance of work that for you is play. We have such a social stigma, don’t we, against actually enjoying our work? People who love their jobs are said to be the lucky ones. Imagine what life would be like if we all allowed ourselves to pursue work that was our passion. Work we hate takes too much energy. It saps the life out of us. Work we love? It gives us energy. It gives us life. And yet, we put ourselves in “sensible jobs” to pay the bills, have stability, etc. because we’ve been told what we really love isn’t a viable option. But as Robinson says, “doing something ‘for your own good’ is rarely for your own good if it causes you to be less than who you really are.”

This isn’t just about personal fulfillment either. If people are pursuing their passions, they work to the fullest of their capacity. Therein lies the magic to maximizing human potential. We don’t just need this as individuals. We need this as a society to grow.

This message isn’t just for the young trying to find their way. It’s for anyone still looking. It’s for mothers with children for whom school doesn’t have a spark, or doesn’t tap into and allow enough space for learning in the area where the child’s heart is. It’s for people looking for a second or even third career. It encourages you to think about how it is you think and learn, in what ways you are intelligent and passionate. And it re-envisages the boundless ways you can use your particular strengths. Maybe you’re really good at memorizing baseball stats. Useless as that may seem to others, who knows…you could just be a really fantastic sports team manager. Maybe you love gardening…who knows, maybe there’s a life for you in landscape design. The point is, it is never too late to try to find it.

He makes a fabulous point about how the education system only prepares for the world as it is now and leaves us hopelessly unprepared for a changing and dynamic future. But the future is incredibly dynamic. Think how much change has occurred just over the past 2 decades. Can any of us say with any certainty what 2030 will look like?

I’m increasingly convinced too that the one career or one job for your entire working lifetime model of our parents’ generation is becoming obsolete. I think that for many industries and avenues for work, many of my generation will have multiple jobs and multiple careers over the span of their lifetime. Being able to adjust and roll with this requires a great deal of versatility and flexibility. It requires thinking about your skill set in broad, open-minded ways. For many of us, I think even the idea of working for large corporations is anathema to our deepest desires and happiness. Many will venture out on their own, as small business owners, freelancers, or otherwise self-made men and women. And for many of these paths, a college degree is not exactly what it takes to succeed.

Did I just really say that? *gasp* Yes I did. After teaching undergrads at the university level for the past 5 or so years, I’ve really begun to feel that pushing kids into college for that “all-mighty degree” is a mistake (perhaps one of even colossal proportions). We are told that you can’t get anywhere anymore without a college degree. Yet, once you get past the interview stage for most jobs…for how many of us has that degree actually mattered? It’s all about what you can do and what you have done. Meanwhile, kids plunk tens of thousands of dollars into a college education and at least 4 years (now going on 5 or more with budget cutbacks), and most students are just not plugged in. They’re not particularly interested in the subjects, certainly not as interested as they are in what grade they’ll get at the end and so they end up just floating through the whole experience. What an enormous waste of time and money for the students, and of expertise and know-how on the part of professors.

Of course I think education is important. But I don’t like this boilerplate model we’re adopting. I think many students would be far better served taking some time off after high school to work or travel to find out what it is that really motivates them. When they find their passion, then they should go to school for it. They’d get far more out of the experience. And it may be that a university is not the best place for them to learn. For a lot of careers, what employers are looking for is talent, not a GPA and magna cum laude. So it may be that looking into a trade school or a series of workshops and working internships is the way to go. Some guidance and feedback is always helpful. But sometimes people really do just learn best and discover their own unique contributions most efficiently simply by doing.

Anyway, take a look at the speech. If it speaks to you, I urge you to try the book.

He pulled open the refrigerator door. “Little girls gin yang?” he said. Did the little girls eat yet? “No? Okay, I make you something.” And he pulled out some food to make for my two nieces, Kaelyn (age 6) and Jacqueline (age 5).

Kaelyn is my brother’s daughter, Jacqueline, my sister’s. They are cousins but are raised more like sisters. It was such a simple little moment, but it stood out to me as a moment to remember and carry with me, for it spoke volumes for how my family operates. It was so seamless, so unselfconscious, how my sister took care of keeping track of the girls’ things and how my brother made food for them. The shared love and the shared responsibility. It’s not: this is my kid and that’s your kid and I’ll take care of my kid’s food and you take of your kid’s shoes. It is: these are our kids. Not just on special occasions like the 4th of July, but every day.

I suddenly realized there’s a very subtle but powerful hierarchy for raising children in the family (my German in-law calls it a “clan”, in a way that I think might be equal parts sarcastic, impressed, and curious). All the adults have a role to play with raising the children, and all adults are respected equally. Everyone remains aware of where the kids are and what they need (whether it’s food, kisses, or a gentle warning) and addresses them as simply as breathing. For special treats, like spending the night at a cousin’s house, the parent always must be asked for permission and is the final authority. My mom, the grandmother, is the one all the grandkids go to for a both sympathetic and wise ear. She is the person to talk to when you don’t understand or don’t know what to do. When you need friend and counsel. Or just a really good bowl of noodle soup. Grandpa is the one you really don’t want to mess with. But it’s okay because if you tickle him just right, he turns teddy bear. As a kid, if you do good, there’s a whole caboodle of people to puff up your ego. If you mess up, someone will tell you straight up that what you did wasn’t cool. But there is always someone else you can run to who will understand and tell you it’s okay, we still love you. (If everyone tells you you messed up, then you really know!) There is always both discipline and forgiveness to be found. And there is always someone to offer food and love and something fun to do.

Even when part of the family is broken…a divorce…and the part that left tries to spread bad thoughts and feelings about our family to the child stuck in-between (and can I just tell you how much that makes my blood boil?)…the family rallies together. It does everything it can to heal the wound, to teach love for both mommy and daddy, no matter what. It does not try to spread the foul back. Every one of us just tries to show by doing what our family really is about. The child may be confused and hurt now (and we are all forever sorry for that). But one day the child will be a teenager. And one day she will see for herself what is truth and she can decide what is right for her. The love is tight, but each individual is free: free to be themselves, free to discover for themselves.

And every time I go home, I am overwhelmed by the desire to be more of a part of the lives of my nieces and nephews. To them, I am always gone away, to some mythical place called Santa Barbara. I come in and out of their lives to play for a day and then I am gone again. I want to be more constant than that.

But there lies the rub. Where my family lives. The actual city, the county? I can’t stand. I don’t like the atmosphere, I don’t like the society, the way people behave there. It’s fake most of the time and mean underneath, mostly because people there are just plain more afraid. My mom says she fled from Bangkok because it suffocated her. Where my family lives suffocates me. On top of that my husband hates the area too and refuses to ever live there. We can visit as much as we want, for we do love the family. But living there? His answer is “hell no”. Up until now, I’ve agreed. Wholeheartedly. Bring kids into the picture? Now I’m not so sure.

My mom keeps saying when I’m ready to have kids we really need to move to the same home town, to raise the kids with family. At first I thought she meant help with babysitting and taking care of the kids that way, which I’m sure after a.m. feedings, and crying, and diaper changing, and never-clean house and oh-my-god-can-I-just-get-a-break, there will be moments I’d really love/need that. But now I see there’s more. There is so much more. Of course it is totally possible to raise absolutely wonderful children without all that and millions of families do it all the time. But I do see its worth. And growing up away from that, our kids won’t have the same closeness to their cousins that their cousins share. They’ll miss the everyday camaraderie. They’ll always be just a little bit outside. Loved, for sure, but a little bit outside. I know because I am.

Thankfully I don’t have to make this decision yet. This decision is at least a year or two away. But it’s on the horizon and on my radar. I feel it weighing on me. And my hubby and I will have some figuring out to do.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. How does your family operate? What decisions have you had to, or will you have to make?

I can see the faces of those of you right now who don’t like seafood. I challenge anyone who says they don’t like seafood to eat my mom’s seafood and walk away saying it wasn’t all that great. Just you try.

(Ok, maybe barring an actual food allergy.)

Maybe I’ll make strawberry pie too. I can top it with a dollop of whipped cream and blueberries.

In the meantime, I’m whiling away today. I need to get a little work done on my conclusion chapter, but not too much for today. I’m also not checking my school email address until I get the chapter done because I’m at a point where I can’t really handle seeing what revisions I still need to make on my first 5 chapters. I’m fine with the fact that I need to make revisions. I just can’t be aware of them until I get this chapter done. I need to feel I’m making some progress or I will actually lose my mind. Last night, our neighbor knocked on our (open) door around 11:30 p.m. We were watching Lost (still on the first season – we like to watch at our leisure, so it helps having the whole thing done so we don’t have to wait between episodes – so ssh, don’t tell me what happens), but they were having drinks on their balcony, it was a warm summer night and they were sweet enough to invite us. We went over and had a great time. And I felt awful because the last time we really hung out with them was about 3 years ago when we moved into the apartment and I said, “We should get together for dinner! We’ll have you over!” And we never did. I say hello to them on the street, but never talk for more than a few minutes, and I realize that grad school has made me a hermit. I have only a limited capacity to be social when under this pressure which means I reserve it for a few people I can give a lot to. For others, I hem myself in. And that makes me sad.

I don’t want to be hemmed in.

I bought a papaya yesterday. And I was excited to have it for breakfast this morning. It looked plenty ripe on the outside. But on the inside it was not. Too ripe to use for green papaya salad. Not ripe enough to enjoy on its own. Just a little sour and mostly without taste. I had to throw it away.

On the plus side, I’ve picked up two new books I’m excited to read: Purge by Sofi Oksanen and The Magicians by Lev Grossman (note to self: update books list on side panel). I’ve read the first few chapters of both, and I’m already enjoying them. They’re totally different but they both have a great humor about them. Purge is about two women in Estonia. One is a sex-trafficking victim on the run who ends up seeking safe haven with the other, who has her own shameful past. The flap says, “gradually their stories emerge, the culmination of a tragic family drama of rivalry, lust, and loss that play out during the worst year of Estonia’s Soviet occupation…[it's] a novel about the corrosive effects of shame, and of life in a time and place where to survive is to be implicated.” I’m hooked.

The Magicians, on the other hand, is a coming-of-age fantasy billed as the Harry Potter for adults. Totally different, but yeah, I’m hooked again. And what I’ve read so far is just rife with sardonic wit.

And do you know what makes my heart happy today? Yesterday, I made a caprese salad and linguine with shrimp and arugula in a lemon, butter, and white wine sauce. I chilled a bottle of our favorite Lincourt Sauvignon Blanc and smuggled it into my car. When my hubby walked in the door, I told him I had a surprise for him and all he needed was his jacket. I drove us to the beach, set up a picnic table with a white tablecloth, the wine, and the food, and we had dinner together on the beach at sunset. No special occasion. Just because. But it felt really special. I love moments like that. They’re my favorite.

Ok, that’s it for me. Hope you all have a lovely 4th!

Update: Right after I posted this, I got my birth certificate in the mail, signed and sealed by both Mississippi’s Department of State and the U.S. Department of State. I can definitely say, officially, that I have indeed been born. The certificate from the U.S. Department of State has Hillary Rodham Clinton’s signature on it. Not a stamp. Her actual signature. Do I really have to give this up to the Thai Embassy? Can I keep it? This makes me think of the day when I was 10 and wrote a letter to George Bush Sr. about how people were hurting baby seals and can he please do something about the baby seal situation and I got a letter back thanking me for my concern and here’s a picture of the President for you. But that one didn’t have his actual signature. That was just a stamp. So I’m pretty sure this is cooler.

“Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.” ~Twyla Tharp

Both of these articles stuck with me, and I think, though both were addressed to gendered audiences, their lessons and values apply universally. So I wrote a whole long deal on the importance of hobbies and re-engaging in time honored skills like cooking, sewing, gardening, woodworking, mechanics, photography, writing (including blogging)…whatever. And then I scrapped it. I was trying to capture all of the suns’ rays as through a glass, and found the words did not burn on the paper (paraphrasing Ginsberg here).

But creative outlets are so important – even if you think you’re a person who isn’t very creative. The act of creating something uniquely your own is powerful and not to be underestimated. It’s practical, for developing these skills can save money and reduce waste. It’s good for your sense of pride: to look at something you’ve made and know it’s been made well. And it’s good for your self-esteem: for if you develop skills in different areas, and one area goes to sh*t, you have something else to keep you going. It’s liberating and it’s like meditation. Often I find when I bump into a problem in one area of my life, if I shut off and do something else entirely, focus and concentrate on cooking or baking or whatever, when I come back to that problem, an answer is there waiting for me. I even count sports and various forms of exercise in this because they can be meditative too. Maybe they don’t produce anything tangible (other than perhaps sweat, blood or tears…), but they do create good energy that can help focus or calm you in other areas. And because these creative outlets are so important, I really think it is essential that not only we each as individuals carve out time for them, but that we support our loved ones (spouses especially) and give them the space they need to pursue them too, even if those hobbies incur costs.

I recently started teaching myself to sew. I’ve done a couple projects here and there, but I’ve never really made a concerted effort to learn before. My husband taught me how to use the machine since he had a Home Ec class in high school and I never did (how’s that for feminism for you?). I got a couple of beginner’s books and spent $7 at a thrift store on some old napkins and pillowcases that I repurposed to make a vintage style apron.

Before:

After:

If you look closely, those ruffles are all total crap. And don’t look at the back of it either.

Though, I kind of like these details:

Worth it to no longer be tempted to buy the $35 ones at Anthropologie.

Then, using scraps I had from earlier projects, I made a cover for my kindle.

I just have to be a little delicate with it, or the bottom pops out

Then, for my birthday, my hubby got me some gorgeous fabrics and yesterday I made a wraparound skirt. The apron isn’t great. The kindle cover needed a little retooling, but mostly it works. But the skirt? I LOVE. Because it’s totally mine, and though it’s not perfect either, I finally started getting the hang of things. (It helped to have proper tools: oh rotary cutter, how I love thee.)

Sewing isn’t easy for me, mostly because it requires patience, and patience has never been one of my virtues. But it’s precisely for that reason I’m trying really hard to commit to it. With sewing, you really have to take things one step at a time. You can’t take shortcuts or the final product will suffer for it. And doing things right the first time saves you a lot of grief in the end.

But with this last project, every time I started getting frustrated and felt tempted to rush or cut corners, I just told myself, “Make with love, not haste. Make with love, not haste.” It helped.

That scattered feeling I’ve been having lately? Slowly, I’m starting to burnish the edges of it off. I’m thinking maybe it is worthwhile to take a moment to get centered again so I can refocus and do a better job of things.

I had a wonderful birthday and I’me thinking of luggage and flowers and vintage and fabrics. I’me feeling inspired and relieved, contrary and perniculous. I don’t know why I’me saying such things but the words pop in my head and what am I to do? There’s so much work to do tomorrow fbut for the moment, I’me relaxing. We watched Stand By Me and Toby said he didn’t like the name of the movie it was too romantic. But I think it draws more attention to the relationship between the boys than Stephen King’s title “The Body”. But we ate so much this weekend and the food was so good. And it really was good to have my parents in town. I really am lucky to be close to them. I know many people aren’t close to their parents the way I am. They have given me lots of things to think about in Thailand. But mostly they’re easing me from having too many thoughts. I guess that’s why I said I’me feeling contrary. So many mixed thoughts and feelings. So much running around, throwing around. Colliding around in my skull. I need to take a breathe. I need to breathe. It’s too hard to breathe with too mch shite on top of your head. But I’me getting out. I will get out. Just a little while longer. Toby said it’s been too long since I’ve really just sat back and enjoyed where I am in life. And it made me want to cry. Because it’s true. I need to get to that place. I need to take a step back and just get to a place where I can just enjoy. Enjoy enjoy enjoy enjoy enjoy. Like chocolate cake and raspberries. Like birthdays and vintage. Like stickers and snowmen. Pastries. Swimming pools and margaritas. What time is it? 3:47 left. I’me staring at the screen and The Yellow Suitcase is in the back of my mind. I want to do more research. I want to flesh out the ideas for my next book. Japan. Picture brides. Home. But I must wait. Just a little more. Then I can focus. I just have to get to a space where I can let myself focus. Like my dad says. When am I going to get these monkeys off my back? Time to get rid of the self-imposed monkeys. Fuck the monkeys. Pardon my French. So let’s sew. I’ve got some great fabrics. I just got to get rid of my fear of making a mistake. Nothing lost if I mess up. Just learn. Learn to have patience. One step at a time. One step at a time. I’ve never been good at that…I need to practice one step at a time. Then I won’t be so scattered. I’me so scattered. So scattered.

You’ve got 10 minutes. Don’t think. Just write. No holds barred.

Then just post the link in the comments below!

Next week’s challenge: “If I were a bag of some sort, I would be a…”
Fancy purse? A backpack? Reusable? What would you carry?

Through the weekend, we stayed with T’s boss…which is another interesting story. For, how often does your boss live 300-some-odd miles away? But we stayed with him and his girlfriend and I really enjoyed that. Not only are they both really nice and interesting people who introduced us to more kind and interesting people, I really enjoyed seeing his office and their amazing home space, for I felt like I got to know them a little bit, in a really nice way. Plus the bonus of seeing him embark on a new enterprise – it’s exciting! I’m happy for him and gives me the vicarious little thrill of feeling like I’ve brushed up close to greatness. (I’ll just say, it’s the film industry sort of greatness.)

I had planned to take a lot of photos for this week’s You Capture (the theme is fun) – and really with such a fun weekend, how could I miss that opportunity? But…miss it I did. Because we were having so much fun I was totally absorbed in really special moments, I couldn’t even think about hiding behind a camera. So I’m hobbling together something a little silly with what few photos I do have.

The weekend was filled with special moments like hugging friends who have been a year and a world away.

Like meeting an old friend’s new baby.

Like exploring new sites and living new experiences.

And rediscovering old ones.

Like stumbling across vintage suitcases in a thrift store:

Complete with old tags!

And silk scalloped lining

And falling in love with all their nooks, crannies, and corners

And sweet old vintage stickers

Oh, and by the way…can I just say? $3.99 each.

It’s the bees’ knees, baby!

But now we are home, with lots to do, for it is my 30th birthday in less than a week! And…did you see my sidebar, just to the top on the right there?

We’re up to 76% of the way to my goal! I’m nearly brought to tears with the amazing people in my life, with their generosity, their love, and their support. It’s the thirtieth year of my life, and I feel I have so much.

I have so much.