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." 

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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!