Back to Blogging

It has been such a long long time since I've blogged. I've thought about blogging at least once or twice a week, usually as I'm climbing the stairs to my apartment after a long drive back from Redmond. But once I open the door to my home and find BSG dvds to watch, fun new recipes to try, and a cute boy to cuddle on the couch, all my ambitions disperse. So it goes.

May was also a pretty insane month, as we:

Adopted a new vacuum



Visited family & friends in LA



Went to New York for the Stationery Show



Hosted Kim & Emily for the weekend



Recorded a hit single with the Seattle Six.

A lot has been going on.

I was recently reading through my old blog from my college years, and it's insane how much I would put out there in public all my thoughts and feelings about *everything.* I was a steady blogger from 2001 to 2005, averaging 15 posts a month at least. And in the early years I didn't have a digital camera, so it was all words. Sometimes I would post results of internet quizzes like "which Harry Potter character are you?" (Remus Lupin), but mostly it was just a daily recital of my innermost thoughts.

And it seems like I had more personality back then. I guess by that I just mean that I put more tang and pizazz into things. I was oh, tremendously emo, and everything moved me, everything had such great significance. I think I thought that if I didn't blog it, reflect on it, and really glean from each experience its deeper meaning on my walk through life, I would fail to understand or grow. I would be at a standstill.

I don't still have that mentality, but some of that must dwell in the far corners of my brain, otherwise I wouldn't still be here, blog blog blogging. I feel more content now to just move through my life and hold onto whatever my body and mind choose to hold onto. But the world of blogs and the blogging community has changed so much from what it was like in 2008. What is the ultimate function of a blog now to me?

This blog, Bendytime, was initially conceived as a way for both Andy and myself to keep in touch with family and friends in both Minnesota and California. But a blog cannot possibly perform that function. The only way to do that is to put phone to ear, pen to paper, butt to airplane seat. So where does that leave us? With a document of our lives that we are too busy to update.

I don't really know what I am getting at here.

It is a beautiful Sunday night here in Seattle. Today we changed my license plates from California to Washington, and part of me was sad, but part of me was resigned to it. If I plan to live as many different places and travel as much as I hope to, little things like changing license plates will have to become commonplace. Another step: hopefully getting our passports soon.

Andy is cutting his hair in the bathroom sink and I am preparing a big pile of tshirts and totebags that I plan to silkscreen for friends. I stayed up till 3m drawing up a Space Needle birdhouse, and if all goes well, my nearest and dearest will be getting homemade presents from me for my birthday.

Today in Los Angeles, my brother graduated from college and I was not there. But I think he knows I'm proud of him. And graduating from college is not really biggest milestone or accomplishment he will ever achieve. The ones that will make an impact will be–or already have been–quiet and solitary. Most likely he wouldn't even notice until much later, and then look back and go "oh yes. that was a big moment. something changed."

And it was Father's Day too. I bought my dad a card at Bartell's, and I noticed how many of the cards said things like "Even though you don't say a lot, you've done so much for me" or "Although you're a man of few words..." or "The way you tell me you love me is in actions not in words." Is that really a reality for fathers? Not talking? Enough that the writers at Hallmark have found a dozen different ways to say basically the same thing? Or is it that the kind of kids who buy their dads beige and brown Hallmark cards with long-copy and photos of fish and golf carts on them are the kinds of kids who don't know their fathers very well. I have a Hallmark campaign in my portfolio where the tagline is "Feelings are complex. Cards are simple." The Father's Day cards I read made me want to revise it to "Feelings are scary. Cards are safe."

But more than anything, it makes me sad for families and children everywhere. At least in my family, the sentiment is true. Since moving to Seattle, I've found it impossible to talk to my Dad, while my relationship with my Mom has gotten much better. I called for Father's Day and we spoke for barely 3 minutes. I don't know if it's because he's mad that I moved, or worried about me, or just that he's so emotional about it he can't even talk. But the point moreso is that I don't know. Because he won't tell me. And I don't even know why he won't tell me. If he would even just tell me why he won't tell me, I wouldn't ask any more questions.

My life would be much better if my Dad had a blog. Or a Facebook.

And otherwise, life parades onward. Speaking of parades, the summer solstice parade in Freemont this weekend promises naked people galore, I am looking forward to posting photos on my Flickr. Not to be missed!

And be glad that you're there

I had only been in Seattle for around 5 days when I had my first "You're On Your Own" type grown-up day. It started out badly when the clothing rod in the hall closet which sort of functions as my wardrobe collapsed as I was getting dressed to meet Andy and his writing partner for lunch in South Downtown. The whole crash knocked me backwards and the rod fell on my thumb as I was pulling off my jacket, leaving me with a bruised thumb and a huge pile of crap. The photo makes it seem much less catastrophic than it felt when I was falling backwards into the closet door. Mostly I was pissed because I had just finished unpacking my clothes that morning.


Rushing down to SoDo I was happy to see some sunlight. I wondered what all the fuss about Seattle rain was about. Andy and Andre met me in the parking lot across the street from their work. The parking lot is attached to some weird little diner/smokehouse. I can't quite decide what's so weird about it, but apparently someone on Yelp is in agreement. Andy and Andre are pretty convinced it's a front for drug ring, kind of like that suspicious gas station on the corner of Prairie and Redondo Beach in Torrance where the gas costs like $8 per gallon.


We went to a little SoDo BBQ joint called the Pig Iron and I immediately felt better once I had ordered some jalapeño spinach casserole and creamed corn and taken a look around at the vintage Hatch Show posters on the walls. I especially enjoyed their collection of pig-themed decor.



Hanging out with Andy and Andre is always a good time, and it was nice to get to know them better over some yum BBQ. We talked about harnessing the power of advertising to Save the World, and how Tivo is actually contributing to the downfall of society, etc etc. The food was pretty tasty, and they had a good sweet tea which supposedly gets implemented in a delicious sweet tea mojito.





I dropped the A team off at work and sort of felt sad and lonely. Everything still did/does feel raw and reminds me of the people I love and have left behind. A delicious BBQ lunch served to remind of Jana and her passion for pork, and I felt that Cyndi would have appreciated the side orders. I felt bummed and full of self-pity diluted by sweet tea.

I decided to try to cheer myself up by visiting the Goodwill store near their agency. I had good luck there a few days before with a $10 dresser, perhaps today I might find a clothing storage system that wouldn't let me or my tunic dresses down. The downtown location is huge and endless with aisles and aisles of used sewing machines and discarded VCRs and an entire section dedicated to old joysticks. The furniture area is constantly in flux, but that day I was not as lucky. I glared enviously at the smug woman hugging an upholstered footstool to her chest as she flipped through used records. She obviously found what she was looking for. I couldn't take her superior air, so I slunk back to my car and calculated the distance to the U-District Buffalo Exchange. If all my clothes were going to reside on the closet floor, what difference would a few more tunic dresses make.


But it was not to be. I twisted the key forward and nothing happened. The pedals moved fine and the radio lights would blink on and then off, but nothin else. No quiet whir of the engine and no response except for the little red engine light and the little red check fluids light. And I freaked out.

I had let my AAA membership lapse in January of 07, but I had my oil changed every 3 months (mostly). It had just been changed and my tires rotated before driving up to Seattle though. Normally in such a situation I am ashamed to say that my first response would be to call my Dad. For as long as I can remember, emails and phone calls from my Dad are signed off with things like "Please take care of your insurance" or "Did you get your oil changed yet?" and to me that is how I know I am loved. It's not that I can't take care of my car on my own. It's that having my father help me with such matters brings me a sense of connection and security.

But now I'm 2 states away, and a phone call to my father would do more harm than good. There was no point in worrying him, and nothing to do but sit quietly and figure out for myself the best thing to do. First of all, call my boyfriend and whine and freak out. Check. Next, confirm that my AAA membership truly is expired and useless. Check. Next, jiggle key uselessly in ignition and read a few meaningless chapters of car owner manual, looking for magical enlightenment. Check. Next, get out with owner's manual in hand and poke around front of car looking for way to open hood, tripping through parking lot planter and groaning. Check. Next, call back boyfriend and continue previously truncated whining. Check. Next, cry.

I'm not proud of myself for all that. I was not the picture of grace. I was ashamed to ask for help, and mad at myself for not renewing my AAA card. I knew my Dad would have been disappointed in me. Andy left work early to come join me so that I could use his AAA card (unethical? yes or no?) and while sitting and waiting for him and fumed at myself for being so careless. In preparing to move there were so many things I was careful to attend to, and yet here was something completely preventable that I had neglected. I questioned whether I was truly ready to enter the adult world.

Andy came and we sat in my powerless car in the cold for about 45 minutes waiting for the tow truck. I fretted about the possibility of replacing an alternator and Andy maintained that it was probably my battery. I watched the sun set in the rear view mirror and missed my friends and family and felt sorry for myself. Andy was graciously silent and gentle. He showed me the oil change stick again and reassured me that the fluids looked fine.

Eventually the tow truck came and we found out that it was merely the battery, not something I could have done anything to prevent. We paid for a replacement battery and drove home in dusk.


In the days since then I have certainly had harder times emotionally, but that was a day for obstacles of the physical world. In retrospect, the moral of that story was that things are not as bad as they sometimes seem and they can certainly be worse. When we got home Andy drilled the closet rod back in place while I renewed my AAA card online, and a few days later we bought a clothing rack and purse hooks that hang behind the door for my million purse, and everything was fine.



But if the way that I understood love from my Dad was always looking out for me, then the way that I understand love from Andy is always being there for me. It's hard for me to accept help because I don't want to seem helpless, so it's important that I don't feel like the help is being given with a feeling indebtedness. But I do need help because clearly there are a lot of things I have yet to learn and challenges I will have have to overcome on this new adventure, and even great heroes have partners and sidekicks and soul animal demons and elven gifts to give them special powers. There's no shame in admitting that I can't do it alone. And I'll get better as time goes by.



Now you can feel all the knots in your stomach they start to untie
And suddenly it's not so hard to say you're alright

Oh, love is real it is not just in poetry and stories
It is truth and it will follow you everywhere you go from now on
So if you just cast all off your doubts then your lips would answer for you
Oh, my darling when you smile it is like a song
And I can hear it now

Chicken Soup For the Sad Girl in Seattle's Soul

The food that your mother gives you the morning you drive away and leave home for the first time to set out on your own in a new city will taste different than any other food you will ever taste. Is it a combination of the way it was hastily and tearily packed and offered and what it seems to symbolize: the desire to continue to care for you, to protect and nourish you. It's been 27 years since she gave birth to you, but does the bag of grapes she washed and put into a baggie for you come as close as you'll ever know to what it was like to be connected by your umbilical cord and fed by her directly? I guess they're just grapes after all, but having them in the hotel that first night made me feel loved more than anything else I can remember in a long time.

The road goes ever on and on...

...down from the door where it began

I think moving from Los Angeles to Seattle was the most emotionally draining and logistically daunting thing I've ever had to do in my life thus far. And although I say Los Angeles, most people know I actually mean Torrance, California, city of my childhood, playground of my youth, and the house that I grew up in.

I prepared for a full year, even so much that I went through and quit my old job and got a new job in order to make more money and gain experience that would allow me to start my career in a better place in the new city. I put everyone through what Emily termed "the Longest Goodbye Ever" and exploited my imminent departure as a way to get anything from free meals, to wild adventures in the city, to my choice of songs in Rock Band. And I almost got a lap dance.

But with all that preparation, I still found myself overwhelmed when the time came. The actual physical move went better than I had anticipated and cost less than I had budgeted. But I was not emotionally braced for the reality of leaving everyone and everything I know behind and running off into the great unknown. It was a strange thing to hug my family and friends goodbye and then get onto a freeway that I had driven on every day, and somehow end up in a different life. It was very Lord of the Rings-ie:

[Bilbo] used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: its springs were at every doorstep, and every path was its tributary. "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."

So yeah. The first night in the hotel in Redding I cried at the sight of the marshmallow roses my mom had given us, at the snowglobe Jean made me, at every little thing. A lot of the time I wondered to myself if I was making a huge mistake. Most of the time I just tried to allow my mind to float in space and not feel, because feeling was painful. And it was easy to do this because the landscape was beautiful: snowcapped mountains, silvery lakes, and a lot of roadside adult stores in Oregon for some reason. It was a nice drive, but it hurt like hell. Even at this moment it's just easier for me not to think about it. Talking through it a few days later with Andy, it seemed like a dream, and I think for a long time, the journey between point A & B, or rather CA & WA, will remain a numb blur.

I do remember we had a lot of coffee and beef jerky.

And now I am here, in Seattle! It is an exciting new place, and I think if I had to choose a city to start a grand new adventure I could not have found a better place than Seattle. Or a better navigator/tent buddy/Samwise than Andyroo. He's the cheese to my macaroni, as the saying goes. I miss my friends and my family, but in that I am fortunate also, for they have all been enthusiastic and supportive and they all know that I will still be there for them, just a phone call or text message away.


Into the caverns of tomorrow with just our flashlights and our love
We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge.

At goodbye dinner, Jana shows us her Jana Face

Marshmallow flowers from Mom

Empty closet

We are attempting a sad "Hey!" Mine is very over the top but Jean's sadness is achieved through one or two fewer twinkles in her eyes than normal.

One last hug goodbye

Where it began

Andy and his Double Double

I'll miss you!

The littlest things keep me grounded

Cologne dispenser in a truck stop restroom

This photo is like time traveling: seeing the past & the future

Mt Shasta doesn't wanna come out and play

Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can

Photo blogging because I'm lazy

I think in the beginning here it's gonna be a lot of photos of stuff and crap. I've spent basically the whole day designing the header for our blog, I'm feeling tired and my wacom pen feels like lead. So here are whatever photos I have lying around on my desktop:

An old picture from 4th of July in Venice. Before we discovered the magic of the "heeeey" photo.


The view of Lower Queen Anne from our living room window.


A tail of two cities: Long distance animal cracker love.


Some of my most favorite LA people on a random night out


A portrait of Ben and Beth; Hey, I didn't know we were supposed to be trying to look cool.


The second place winner for the annual family Christmas card. My brothers are so adorable!

Bethy the Brave

Today Beth made a brave and bold move. She made the decision to resign from her post as resident Art Director at Motta in order to pursue her Seattle life. Even though it's something she wants to do, it's still a difficult thing leaving a place that she still likes and has many friends and family.

The good thing is that friends stay friends, and we all know you can't get rid of family no matter how far you travel. So it made me very happy that Beth took a chance and chose the opportunity to try a new life adventure.

So let's all wish Beth the best of luck on her new journey. Fun will be had, regrets pummeled and anything resembling an ass will be kicked.