Hi blog!

Two of my walls are green. One is big and yellow. The other is small and orange. I have a lot of paint left over. One day I'll post it on craigslist for cheap or free and someone in need of citrus-colored paint will be very happy.

Last night one of my molars chipped. And not just a namby-pamby little flake of enamel, a big chunk of tooth broke off. I was eating a cookie at the time and simply thought the crunchy-ness was a wad of sugar on the top. Yes, that's right, I chewed up and ate a piece of my molar. I'm that hard core. Well, I may be hard core but my tooth was weak sauce, and now the man behind the disposable dentist's mask wants $1,500 to put a crown on my tooth. I wouldn't pay that much for a crown on my head. Maybe I'll spend $500 for a flight to Mexico and have it done there for much less. Then I get a crown AND a vacation. Everybody wins. Especially the makers and purveyors of fine rot-gut Mexican tequila. Who needs Novocaine?

The Valentine's Day Ring Contest!!!!!

Hi friends! So I decided to do something fun for Valentine's Day and here's the skinny ---

My great aunt gave me a ring that, while lovely, is sooooo not my style, plus it's too big for me. So I saw an add for a local jeweler that will "recycle" your rings, meaning that she will melt it down and reconstruct it. So I swung by her shop and had a brief discussion about it. I was hoping to do something vintage-looking, but to my surprise, she didn't really have much to offer in that realm. So I figured that I'd do some research and find a style that I liked on my own and have her craft something similar. But I got to thinking that there are so many creative people out there, I should ask around and see if anyone would design something for me - but what would be in it for them? So I came up with a fun and brilliant idea! I'm having a contest to design me a new ring! The ring currently has 5 small diamonds in it, and whoever comes up with the best design will win one of the diamonds!!!! Here are the details...

The ring right now is yellow gold, but I'm having the jeweler change it to white gold, as per my preference.

I'm most likely looking for something vintage-inspired, I want people to look at it and ask if it was inherited from my great-grandmother. Think Victorian, Edwardian, Art Deco... But don't let that stop you from designing something rad and crazy - I like that too and just may be swayed!

There are five small diamonds in the ring now - I'm guessing about .15 carat each, in a traditional circle shape. The design should encompass four or fewer of the diamonds. If you use fewer, you still only get to keep just the one extra though!

There's quite a bit of heft to the ring, and I think I'd prefer something lighter and more delicate, so don't feel that you have to design a ring of equal size.

If you have a design, you can e-mail it to me along with your name and contact information at

craftyfabricator@gmail.com

or you can drop off a sketch at Caffe Ladro.

Depending on how many designs I receive, I reserve the right to tell all the applicants that there designs are rubbish and go with an idea of my own. However, I'm really keen on this idea and think it'll make a great story for both parties, so don't worry that I'll weasel out of picking a winner just because I'm weaselly.

I'll make my decision on Feb. 14th - so start sketching!!!!

And e-mail me if you have any questions!

Oh yeah, I have a blog.

When I got back from the DR I made a note to keep up the blog even though I wasn't traveling. You see how far that got. But today I'm a little under the weather and have watched my fill of movies and read about as much bookness as I can take and frolicked with my old lady rats til they squeaked, "for the love of Pete, leave us alone unless you got any cheese for us!" The good news is that in the hour I forced myself out of the apartment today, I manged to pick up two more books from the library, soothe my throat with some free tea, and scored a FREE SANDWICH! That's right kids, I have access now to

FREE SANDWICHES!!!!!!!

Those of you who know me well will understand what a monumental deal this is. Plus they are really delicious sandwiches, which is the icing on the cake. Hmmm, speaking of which, I have to get working now to find a score of free cake...

The holidaze went well for me. I now drink beer and play the guitar, so my brother and I were able to bond like never before. I met my niece, ate pancakes, hiked through a beautiful mucky melty forest, cooked three chickens at once and kissed a gay man (I have very little memory of this last event, though I do have a surprisingly passionate picture to prove it). All in all a good little jaunt to Buffalo. It wasn't until the car was pulling away from the house at 5 in the morning on New Year's Day that I remembered I was leaving that house for probably the last time ever. It's not the house I grew up in, but it's the house I did a lot of growing up in, and certainly the house where most of my memories are stored. My dad is selling it, and he already has a few interested buyers, apparently. So that's it. And that's odd. But it's okay. Because things change and life moves on and nothing is forever. The memories cultivated there will always be with me, but now it's time to move on. Although in now makes my question of, "where is home" even harder...

Seattle flip-floppers

When I arrived back into Seattle a week and a half ago, my friend Benny picked me up from the airport. Luckily I had thought to e-mail him a few days prior to my arrival to ask him to bring a sweater or sweatshirt or something that I could use to clothe myself, as, coming from a tropical zone, I was quite lacking in that area. Benny followed through and let me borrow one of his zip-up hoodies, and I had a pair of long yoga pants, but all I had with me for my feet were flip-flops, or as the British like to call them, "thongs" (which makes me giggle). I wanted to stop at a grocery store before going back to my apartment so that I could stock up on the essentials - 3 boxes of cereal, 2 forms of milk-like liquids and a banana. At the time I thought I probably looked a little silly wearing my flip-flops, (not that I MIND looking silly, it's just usually I look silly because I've planned it that way) and Benny even mentioned that he could hear me coming closer, as I was probably the only person in Seattle wearing flip-flops in November. At the time I figured he was right.

Then I started noticing something - Seattlites are either lazy or have no temperature receptors in their feet. Upon paying more attention, I've noticed a good half dozen or so people wearing flip-flops in the past week (and I haven't been out all that much). I saw a guy wearing shorts and flip-flops, and that's one type of crazy, but then I've seen several people wearing winter clothes, a scarf, and... flip-flops? I mean, far be it for me to judge another's clothing choice, it's just one of those things that makes my mind go... what?...

I used to despise wearing flip-flops until I realized easy they were to deal with and how delightfully they let your toes breathe. I lived in flip-flops the whole time I was in the DR. When I came back to Seattle and put on socks for the first time, my feet yelled up to me, "what are you doing! You're SMOTHERING me!"

"But feet," said I, "it's cold in this here place, and I need to keep you safe and warm, because you are so very pretty."

"Very well then," said feet. And then they tried to say something else but I couldn't understand the muffled words through the soft, cottony goodness of my warm socks.

Falling for fall?

I'm BACK, baby! Back in Seattle. I thought I'd be miserable, I thought the rain would seep into my bones in a manner of seconds after getting off the plane and depression would set in only minutes afterward. And yet the most wonderful thing has happened; happiness.

Happiness. I'm somewhat unsure of where exactly it's coming from, but I love it. I've never been this happy to be alive in the fall before. All the sights and smells are extraordinary to me, whereas in years past they were merely somewhat pleasant niceties that preceded the dark days of winter. I've become lost in the splendor of apples and cinnamon and crisp air and warm blankets. At times I'm downright giddy with electric excitement to be alive. It's a miraculous thing when just biting into an apple causes waves of luscious pleasure to spill about my body. And don't get me started about what happens when the apple has just been dipped in a chocolate/fig spread!

I don't know if it's the 2 1/2 month vacation, the fact that my vitamin D levels are sky-high, or the "happy pills" my nurse practitioner has had me take for the past few months (better living through chemistry?? - I guess it might be worth it, after all). I would imagine it's a combination of the three, plus great extras like super friends and general rat proximity, but life really is grand.

Maybe now I can try to write a happy song for my guitar.

Donde esta el ron!

It's hard to believe it's all coming to a close. I have gotten much into the habit of life amidst the Cossitt/Pernal household. Yet all good things...

I have learned quite a lot here, about myself, about kids and dogs and marriages and Spanish. It's been fantastically educational to dip my toes into the lives of these people so vastly different from my own life. I think a lot of times people get stuck in their own little worlds, and it becomes hard to remember that other people don't have the same ideas and thoughts on life, and often it is simply because their experiences and frames of reference are just different. My sister and her family lead a life so very different from mine. I am sometimes delighted by how things work in this household, and sometimes appalled. And yet I've enjoyed just soaking it all in. I'm sure they have many criticisms about the way I lead my life, (and they've made a few of them widely known to me!) in the end we accept each others' differences and for the most part, my two months here have been pretty even sailing. Each day I try to remember to take a moment and be grateful for such a loving and accepting family.

Oh, so date night, was... well, it was a lot of things. Mostly it was yet another reminder of my utter inability to feel attracted to any man who might actually be good for me. This guy is good-looking, well-educated, into music, fairly stable, wants to get married, wants to have kids, and yet I'm totally uninterested. Great. Honestly, at this point, I'd rather have Reckless Clive in my life than a boyfriend. Speaking of which -

I finally heard back from a group called Project Samana. They come to the DR twice a year to spay and neuter dogs here. I wrote to them about Clive and they've assured me that as long as they can find her, they'll spay and vaccinate her. The extra good news is that they are coming down the first week in November. So that means I'll only have a short wait to hear if they were successful in finding her. Crossing my fingers big time on this! I should be reciting daily prayers to the canine gods and leaving offerings of fatty chicken outside my door every night.

It's the final countdown

So at last the end is breathing down my back. I've less than a week left in the DR. I'm trying to remember to embrace the good parts about going back to Seattle; amazingly enough I am looking forward to resuming a life of actually having work and responsibilities. I don't have much of either, but I think I have just enough to give some meaning and purpose to my life. While my idle decadence has been enjoyed to the fullest here, there is a facet of happiness that can only be met from physically applying oneself. Sloth is great for a while, but I do yearn for activity. My waistline especially yearns for physical activity, as I've managed to gain 5 pounds since I got here. Hopefully I can be strong-willed enough to rid myself of the bad habits picked up, such as rum and cokes at all hours, neck-packing at dinner (dammit, Dave, why is it all so delicious!), dessert every night, 50 oz. bottles of beer, butter, butter, more butter, corn chips, breakfast-noonsies-lunch-snack-appetizer-dinner-dessert, and all the while rum rum rum.

I sure am heartbroken at the thought of leaving my nephew. It finally makes more sense than ever how you can love this person so much at yet sometimes want to throw them off a cliff. Just when you think you can't stand the relentless questioning and the overly dramatic temper tantrums and the hard iron stubbornness, he'll do something that absolutely melts your heart. And I'm just the auntie who's been here two months. I imagine the feelings must be tenfold in both directions when it's actually your kid.

So, yes, I'll be leaving behind Adian, and the warm tropical weather, the decadent food, the free rum, the absence of responsibilities, the lascivious stares from the Latin men, the 8 hours of sleep every night, the tremendous thunder storms, the fantastic amount of living space, the hammock, and my amazing family that will forever have my utmost gratitude. But Seattle has a lot of great things too, like... er...

My rats!
My friends!

and... um...

good beer!

Geeze I think I might really miss this place ;)