LIVE & LOVE: Monday

Monday...

Usually, I'm not a fan of Monday, and today was no exception. But I've found that sometimes all it takes to turn a day around is an amazing sunset, or a pretty flower, or just the joy of finally being at home.

This week, Monday turned out pretty good.

CREATE: Colt's Quilt

My mom and I just finished a quilt for a friend of mine. He wanted something special for his son's first birthday. His only request was that the design include a couple of guns, and his son's name.

I didn't have a clue how to get the guns on there, but I had a good idea of how to do the rest. I called my mom, and she immediately jumped at the chance to figure it out.

While I worked on the background, she decided to experiment with a new applique technique.

• Draw the design onto a nylon stabilizer
• Baste the stabilizer onto the brown flannel
• Trace the design using 1/8th inch strips of which wool felt (sewn on by machine) 
• Once the design is complete, remove the nylon stabilizer. One.Strand.At.A.Time.....
• Cut out the entire shape by hand
• Position on the quilt and pin into place
• Applique using the machine.

Once she was finished with the guns, it was my turn again. I quilted it (hand tied), sewed on the binding, and even managed to figure out how to make a label using my new sewing machine. :)

Personally, I think the result was stunning.

 

LIVING: The Most Embarassing Day...again

As a kid, I was quiet. I was unpopular. I rarely spoke up in class, and when I did I was often ridiculed indirectly by my teachers and picked on by my classmates. Every time I opened my mouth, I was humiliated and felt like an idiot. So I didn't talk. I didn't ask questions. My goal in life was to be invisible. 

In junior high, my best friend Andrea taught me not to take things so seriously. She showed me that it's okay to make mistakes, to be silly, and to be a little ditzy every once in a while. She also helped me figure out that people can't laugh at you if they are laughing with you. So throughout my adult life, I've tried to expose all those horrifying little moments that threaten to be the most embarrassing of my life, and I set them out on display for all the world to see. 

And as a result...when someone asks "What is the most embarrassing moment you've ever had", I don't have a single story to share. Because all my stories are already out there, and they don't have the power to embarrass me any more. So...here's what happened today.....

The Tuesday Translucent Tunic

Last month, I bought the cutest white, linen tunic and just have been itching to wear it. But it's been hot in Texas, REALLY HOT, and I just couldn't risk getting sweaty armpits in a crisp white shirt. I mean...how embarrassing would that be??? 

This week has been cool and rainy, so I decided that today was the day! I tossed an extra shirt in my bag as I was leaving for work, JUST in case I needed a backup (God forbid I end up w/ pit stains). 

I got to work, and one of my coworkers immediately said, "Nice shirt." Cool, someone noticed within 5 minutes. I was a happy camper and felt like a million bucks.  Around mid-morning I made trip to the ladies room. As I walked into the restroom I happened to glance at the full length mirror near the door. Then I stopped, took a few steps back, and stared in shock at my reflection. 

The shirt was see-through.  

Not so see-through that you could say it was sheer, but see-through enough that it didn't leave much to the imagination. I could see my bra, my tummy, my waistband, even my belt loops. I thought, "Maybe the back isn't so bad." So I turned to look...nope, it was worse!  You could even see the beige decorative stitching that went around the band of my nude-colored bra. 

After a brief moment of panic I took a deep breath, put on a fake cheerful grin, and quickly made my way back to my office.When I got there, I looked at the guy who sits next to me and said "So, at home, this shirt looks solid white." He looked surprised and replied, "You mean you didn't know it was see-through? I would have said something, but I thought you were trying something new."

Shoot me....shoot me now. 

Not only can people see everything that's under my shirt, but they assume that I did it intentionally. (Once the horror of this wears off, I do eventually  begin to wonder just what kind of reputation I have made for myself among my coworkers.....)

But, hey, it's no big deal, right? Because I brought a backup shirt with me, because I'm a super smart female engineer and we know how to prepare for moments like this. So I calmly pulled the second shirt out of my bag, held it in my hands, and as I looked at it under the florescent lighting I realized that my day was about to get a whole......lot......worse.  

My back up shirt was MORE see-through the one I was wearing.  

I didn't just screw up royally once, I managed to sabotage my own back-up plan too. 

Not so cocky now....

 

So, all I can say is thank the Lord for cardigans, safety pins, and coworkers who have a sense of humor! I told everyone what happened, we laughed at my bad luck, and life went on. 

P.S. Thank you Andrea, for teaching me that it's okay to be an Airhead every once in a while. :) 

P.P.S. I have a favorite sleeveless shirt that has black knit around the armpits and neck. For some unknown reason, every time I wear it, it turns my underarms bright orange. And I throw it on the floor and swear I'll never wear it again. And somehow it makes it in the laundry basket, and eventually I forget and wash it and put it away,  and then I end up wearing it again..... it's a vicious cycle. 

LOVING: Remembering Bimal

(For those who do not know Bimal's story, please visit the Justice for Bimal Facebook page. )

(Previous Post: September 9, 2012 - Bimal and Tina)

This is what the bar in my kitchen looks like. Today.  Right now.

It's a catch-all for a lot of objects, letters, magazines, trinkets, junk, etc. I go through it periodically and am able to trash a good portion, or file the rest away. But I've found that there are always "some things" that just never seem to leave.

*Some things that somehow always remain in plain sight.
*Some things that are so important or so urgent that they have to be visible at all times.
*Some things that are so valuable that I am afraid to risk filing them away, never to be seen again.
*Some things that I absolutely cannot forget.

The program from Bimal's funeral is one of these "some things". I don't look at it every day. I don't open it and read the words. I don't relive the tragedy of his death and I don't mourn him every second of every day. But I need this constant reminder of what happened, because in my heart I cannot fathom that he is dead. Bimal is vibrant. Bimal is life, and love, and laughter. Bimal is joy and hope. I honestly cannot conceive of a world in which something so horrible could happen to someone so wonderful. Every time I see his picture I don't remember that he's gone, I just remember Bimal. And a smile comes to my face, and I think "I wonder what Bimal is doing"....and then I remember. And it baffles me, and it breaks my heart.

I've known lots of people who have died in my lifetime. That's what people do. Eventually, everything must come to an end and everyone must die. You mourn, and you move on. Later, when you think of them, it is with fondness as you remember who they WERE, not who they are, because you know in your heart that they are gone.

But I haven't been able to move on and I think there are a lot of us who haven't. There is no closure for me because his death makes no sense at all. I was at his funeral. I heard the songs and I listened to the stories. I cried with my family and my friends. I mourned...but I didn't move on.

The trial was this past week. I think a lot of us believed it would bring about some closure. I certainly hoped that it would. But it didn't. Every time I saw his picture on Facebook or in a news article, my initial response was to smile and think, "I wonder what Bimal is doing..."  I don't know if anyone can fathom how many times I have seen his face in the last week, and how many times I have remembered what happened to him, and how many times I have found myself completely at a loss, and unable to explain how that could happen.

Bimal and I didn't remain the best of friends in adulthood, he was never my boyfriend and we never had a romantic relationship, he wasn't the person who pushed me into making a career decision or gave me advice on life....but despite all that, he was still one of the most important people in my life. He was one of my crew. I cherished him just as I cherished all of my closest friends. In almost every single memory I have of my youth, he is there. His happy, smiling face and his infectious laugh pervade my thoughts and my memories. I loved him. I still love him. Everyone who was fortunate enough to call him a friend understands how special he was. And every single one understands exactly how it feels when you "remember". I hope that God can bring all of us some peace and closure.

And to Bimal's family...I am so very sorry because I know that your loss is so much greater than ours. My heart goes out to you.

Bimal, rest in peace my friend. I will never forget you.

(For those who do not know Bimal's story, please visit the Justice for Bimal Facebook page. )

LOVING Imperfection - Love letters and sappy songs

For the record, this was not an easy post to write. It's not common knowledge, not something that I talk about, and I know some of things in here will surprise my friends and family. But honestly, I think that it's something that needs to be said. There are a lot of us who feel this way, and we really shouldn't.

When I was much younger, I got made fun of...a LOT.  I was the girl that got bullied on the playground, the one who was always picked last, the one who was invited to the party as a joke, the one who never had a homecoming date, who never really fit in.....I was the girl that who was constantly reminded that there was always something wrong with her. The girl who would never be good enough, kind enough, beautiful enough, or smart enough.

And I believed it. All of it. Because how could the entire world possibly be wrong about how unacceptable and inferior I was?  I learned that the easiest way to cope with others is to never take yourself seriously, never put your wants and needs before anyone else's, never expect to actually get what you want, and to always, ALWAYS make the joke about yourself before anyone else got the chance.

All in all, it's worked pretty well for 30 years. I have a great career, lots of relationships, wonderful friends and family, a beautiful home, and a pretty good life. But I've never been able to bring myself to accept who I really am, to embrace all the tiny idiosyncrasies that make me so unique. Deep down, I don't think I've ever loved myself because lots of times I don't even like myself. I've never taken a look at myself in the mirror and said "You are fantastic, no matter what anyone else says." 

***********************************************

I have a very dear friend who I have always thought was a little too critical of herself. It makes me sad, because I think she's fantastic. She is funny, and bubbly, and just being around her makes me happy. But no matter how great I think she is, she is still her worse critic. And I find myself constantly reminding her that it's okay to not be perfect, and it's okay to make mistakes, and it's okay to just be herself because she's great!  And the whole time I'm giving her this advice, I never once listen to it for myself.

The other day, I stumbled across a video on Upworthy.  It's called "Write a Love Letter To Yourself," and it kind of blew my mind. At first, I only thought about my friend and how inspirational it would be for her.

And then I realized, that it also applies to me.
And to you.
And to my family, and friends, and coworkers, and strangers on the street.



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Another thing I've always struggled with is love songs.

I.HATE.LOVE.SONGS.

Why? Because they are never about me, they are never written for me, they are never sung to me, they are never dedicated to me....  My entire life, love songs have served as a reminder that there are girls out there worthy of such a song...and I am not one of them. I know that I can't be alone in this. I know that there have to be other women out there nodding in agreement as they read this and thinking "just once, why can't the song be about us"?

Today I was listening to one of my favorite songs by Bruno Mars, and I thought back to the Love Letter video, and I had an epiphany. If the people at SoulPancake can write love letters to themselves, then why can't I dedicate a song to myself?

These are two of the songs that have touched me the most deeply over the past few months, and I am dedicating them to myself! I hope that if I hear them enough that someday I might believe the words "you are perfect, just the way you are."  And I hope that my friend can believe those words too!

CREATING My Owls

For the last few years, I've been attempting to use up my scrapbook stash by making seasonal "nametags" for my coworkers.  This season, I decided to make owls. Lots and LOTS of owls. When I started I said, "I'll make 40, and that's it." But then I started having fun...way too much fun...and I made 52. I gave away 43 of them and said "no more". 

But by that point, I had owl fever, and so did my coworkers. The more I made, the more people wanted them. By this point, I've made 74, and have about 30 more that I plan to make. They are very time consuming, and actually involve quite a bit of work, but I am having a blast. I decided to create this post so that people would understand just how much work goes into each of these little fellas.

The Creation Process 

For starters, yes I have a Cricut, and no, I have not used it on this project. I couldn't find an owl shape that I liked, so I decided to make my own. I found a style that I liked at Feeling Crafty. She actually used a punch to make her owls, but I didn't have access to one that was large enough. So I copied the picture, re-sized and printed it, and made a template.

Step 1: Pick out and cut paper.

This project really does begin with a stack of scrap book paper and an Exacto knife. After the first few owls, I broke down and bought some circle punches for the eyes. I don't care how talented you are, circles are a pain to cut out!!!!!

You'll notice in the very first picture in this post that the owl is sitting on a branch with leaves. Yes, I cut out every single branch and leaf  also. 

Step 2: Ink all the pieces

When I first got my Cricut, I watched a how-to-video on "inking". This technique has absolutely changed my life (at least as far as paper crafting is concerned). I've used it on almost every project I've done for the past year. It adds depth and interest to whatever you have created. I really like Color Box cat-eye ink pads.  For the following photo, I only inked half of the leaf. You can really see what a difference it makes.

Step 3: Assembly

I use scrapbook Mounting Squares to assemble almost all of my paper craft projects. It's temporarily removable, but holds very well on a permanent basis. 

I like to add a little bling to the eyes using buttons or rhinestones. Depending on the side of the accessory, I will using either mounting squares or Zots Clear Adhesion Dots. The dots are easy to work with, but do not do well holding heavy items or anything that has constant pressure applied to it For instance, the seam in folded card stock can be a strong enough force to make the dot lose it's holding power.

This photo also shows the branch once it's been inked. No, the two branches there not out of the same paper. I didn't do THAT much inking...

Step 4: Final Assembly and Embellishment

Once the branch, leaves, and owl are assembled, I add the person's name to the branch. I have 3 pens that I switch between for writing on papercrafts. I love, love, love Pilot Extra-Fine Silver and Gold Markers. In fact, I almost live in fear that Pilot will discontinue these markers one day. They are wonderful. For the black accent ink, I use either 0.05 Sakura Microperm Ultra-Fine or 0.3mm Helix Fine Line Marker. 

Sometimes, I also add something in the heart. For instance, this owl was made for someone who is a member of Chi Omega. 

There ya have it, that's how I make my owls. When I first started, it took about an hour to make each one. Today I cranked one out in 40 minutes. Once I get an assembly line going, I probably average about 30 minutes on each. It's time consuming, but totally worth it.  I hope everyone else enjoys them too!

LIVING: Halloween - Who Needs Ghosts and Goblins...We Have CATS!

Almost everyone who knows me is aware that I am a total spazz when it comes to all things creepy, crawly, or scary in nature.  I startle when someone says "Boo", I essentially fall all over myself if someone jumps out at me,  and my basic "flee" instinct is to climb the tallest object I can find as soon as possible. Because of this, I don't do haunted houses, I don't watch scary movies, and my husband has learned to never, ever jump out and scare me. My idea of a good time is to dress up like a vampire or pirate and drink up (alcohol, not blood).

Tonight, I watched a Travel Channel special on Halloween Haunts around country.  Not scary...at all.  But, in all honesty, I think that watching everyone else get scared over and over was starting to get to me a little. About halfway through the show I noticed that Roxy was staring intently through the hall into Paul's office. He had the lights off and was sleeping on the couch, so I assumed she was looking at him. No biggie. Five minutes later, I looked over, and she was STILL staring intently. Her fur was starting to stand on end and she wasn't moving a muscle (Notice how the hair around her chest is puffed out. That's not normal). 

I said her name, and got no reaction. So I dropped something, and she barely twitched an ear. I got up and walked over to pet her, and she still didn't budge. At this point I thought maybe she was have a cat seizure or something (yes, I'm paranoid like that). Then she starting rocking back and forth, like the freakin' mental patients they were showing the stupid haunted houses on TV!!!  She'd rock and then sniff the air, rock, sniff, rock, sniff, rock...  I was getting seriously creeped out. Then, suddenly, she blinked, looked around like everything was normal, jumped down, and sauntered over towards Paul's office. 

I sat down and had just settled back into my show when she came racing through the living room like the devil himself were hot on her heels.  Her back legs were sliding all over the place and I could hear her claws as she careened across the wood floors. She practically flew into the sunroom, and then started looking frantically around her head like she was being attacked by something. If bats, or eagles, or flying monkeys were attacking her I would have not been the least bit surprised. Kecia was just as startled as I was and looking around trying to figure out what happened.

At this point, I realized I was standing on the back of the sofa hanging on for dear life.

We've caught her staring at the doorway like this at least twice in the last 30 minutes. She'll zone out for a few minutes, then go wander around like everything is fine.  Paul is convinced that it's the surround sound that scared her (we have a speaker placed over that doorway). 

Regardless of her issue, this cat is freaking me out! I've decided this is not the year to venture out of my comfort zone and try some haunted houses or scary movies. I'm getting enough thrills just staying at home!

CREATE Memories: Tri State Fair

Friday night, we went to the Tri-State Fair with one of our favorite couples.

We walked, and talked, and people-watched, and ATE.  I now fully understand the meaning of the phrase, "too much of a good thing".  I'd never truly had fair food before, so I was determined to try as much as I could.   However, I was only able to tackle a funnel cake, curly fries, curly potatoes, cheese on a stick, and fried Oreos before my body begged me to stop.

We fell victim to the melodious charms of one of the carnies.  He managed to swindle several handfuls of tokens from the guys in only a few short minutes. Our big, strong men managed to win their "fair ladies" a turtle and lion.  (For the record, I love my turtle. Right now he's sitting on my printer watching me type. I still haven't named him.  Paul thinks he looks like a 'Squishy'.  And technically, the carnie didn't call the guys big and strong...he called them weenies...repeatedly! He also said they threw like girls.  I took offense to that, since I was the one who hit the most plates!!! lol )

We also rode the coolest roller-coaster ever.  It was a tilt-a-whirl cart on top of a roller-coaster track.  Every time we'd whip around a corner we'd spin around. It was AWESOME. I didn't have any troubles until the end. Apparently we had our heaviest passenger (NOT me) right at the CG (center of gravity for you non-engineers).  When we came around the last corner we spun, and spun, and spun, and spun...  I just knew all that fried food was going to make an reappearance. Eventually we did stop, and the men lifted us out of the cart because we were too drunk on g-forces to stand.

In spite of the expense and nausea, it was a lot of  fun.  I've never really enjoyed the fair before, but we had a terrific time and I think it was the beginning of a new tradition!

LIVING: What's my age again???

Tonight I went to WT for the National Society of Leadership and Success orientation meeting.  I'd been looking forward to it all week and was really excited. 

 However, as I pulled into the parking lot I began to feel apprehensive about the whole thing.  I started agonizing over the differences in age, career status, education , and life experience between me and the other members (and we aren't even going to discuss body type, shape, or condition!!!). Though we are all students, most are completing their 2nd, 3rd, or 4th year while this is my 10th in  higher education!  I told myself,  "I have no business going to this meeting, I should just turn around and go home."  I wanted to, but my inner rebel gently reminded me that my mom went back to college when she was in her 40s.  She was incredibly active in campus life, and loved every second of it.  Well, if she can do it, I can do it!

 
I arrived to the meeting (on time, hallelujah!) and found a place to sit.  There were 40-50 students there, and most were 19-23 years old.  I saw a couple (and I do mean 2) people who appeared to be close to my age.  For the first time in several years I was truly grateful that I look so much younger than I actually am. No one seemed to notice how out of place I felt, and I was able to settle in and enjoy the orientation.  After the initial presentation, we were divided into groups to begin our SNT (Success Networking Team) sessions.  We went around the group an introduced ourselves (name, major, place of birth).  All of the "kids" (how old am I?) were juniors and seniors in my group.  When I told them that I had a bachelor's in Mechanical Engineering and was working on my MBA, several of them were noticeably surprised. I was very pleased that no one had immediately tagged me as the old woman in the group.  The purpose of the SNT was to discuss our short-term goals and help each other determine ways in which to achieve them.   All in all, in was very enjoyable.

Then came the closing remarks.  The orientation leader got up and said, "One of the great things about this organization is the diversity that we have among members.  Nowhere on campus will you find a group this diverse..."  I nodded in agreement.  Even in my small group I had noticed that we had an even mix of gender, race, national origin, and major.  Many other students were also nodding their heads around the room.  The speaker continued, "We have a sampling from every group here at WTAMU.  Does anyone know what the average AGE of students at WTAMU is?"

Uh oh...  Someone said, "25", and the speaker replied, "That's correct!  25 is the average age, but LOOK at the diverse ages within this group!  We cover every age group."  I looked around the room, and again, only saw 2 others that looked even remotely close to my age.  I quickly did some super human math and determined that the average age of our group was 21 (with a fake ID), neglecting the 3 "old" outliers in the group. I tuned back in to the closing remarks only to hear him say, "It's important for us to understand how much we can learn from people of different age groups, and it says a lot that we are all represented here..." SERIOUSLY?  He was still talking about it?  He talked for another minute or so about age diversity, then released us.  I was shocked that someone giving an orientation for a leadership society could have fumbled the diversity conversation so badly. Especially when one considers that we legitimately had a diverse group.

I quickly left so I could go pick up some wrinkle cream and granny panties. I think I'll have some Oval-tine at bedtime and pull out my abacus to finish up my accounting homework.

Goodnight all...

Old Lady Crawford

LOVING: Bimal and Tina

There are people who come into your life and touch you in a way that no one else could. The sun seems to shine a little brighter when they are around, and you know the world is a better place because they are in it.

Bimal R. Patel, 1982-2012

The world lost one of these people today.  Bimal Patel was an incredible man, who brought love and joy to all of those who knew him.  He suffered a terrible tragedy and, after a long painful struggle, finally passed from this world.  I try to focus on his life, rather than the circumstances surrounding his death. But doing so makes the ending seem that much more unbearable.

Growing up, Bimal was one of my best friends.  He was funny and loyal, kind and endearing, steadfast and unfailing.   And though we haven't been close for years, my heart aches all the same.  I had the privilege of knowing him not only in adolescence but also in adulthood.  I'm proud to say that as a man he was the same wonderful person that I knew growing up.

 

 Our Wedding, 2009:  Paul, Travis, and Bimal

 Our Wedding, the "Claude" table:  Andrea, Bimal, JT, Sharon

 Prom, 2000?:  Bimal, Seth, Dustin, and Michael

 Band Trip, 2000: Bimal, Sharon, Me, and Michael

Tina M. Voyles, 1983-2004

Bimal is not the only person I have lost.  Another dear friend was taken from us in 2004, Tina Marie Voyles.  She was also of those special people that we were all honored to call a friend.  She was a miracle in my life, and I have never stopped missing her.  Though she's been gone for over 8 years, I still find myself awakening after bittersweet dreams of our time together.  I never dream of her the way she was, but always of who she would have become.  We share our lives, and families, and careers. We talk about what we've done, and what we plan to do. And then I awake, and remember, and am alone.  I will never forget Tina.  

8th grade graduation, LONG time ago, Me and Tina

 Tina, before Prom, 2001

Almost every memory I have of my youth involves one, or both, of these terrific people. We lived, learned, loved, and grew together. I feel like a part of me is missing, and can never be restored.  My experiences with Bimal and Tina shaped a large part of who I am today. 

Of course, there are many who loved Bimal and Tina. As a community, we greive. We are never whole again.  I think we lose a part of ourselves when we lose those special people in our lives. Life is unfair, and unjust, and short.  It makes those precious memories that much dearer, and allows us to embrace life with a whole new understanding.  We hold our loved ones a little closer, and try to never take a single moment for granted.  I thank God for taking these two from the suffering they endured, and ask that He hold them in His hands.  Though we mourn today, someday we will see them again.

Bimal and Tina, I love and miss you.  Thank you for allowing me to call you my friends.