8 for 2008 (aka: The 8 Things My Blog Will Most Likely Be About)

1. Burn flavorless things more often. I mean, cook. more often. yeah, cook.

2. Ultimate goal: read a book a week. Starting next week. 52-3=49 books for 2008. More realistic goal that I actually have a shot at obtaining: Read a book a month. Starting next week. 12-1/2= 11 1/2 books for 2008. People magazine does not count. Ok, it can count as the half book.

3. Be kind to the planet. I'd like to investigate how to "go green with less green." In other words, I'm cheap. And broke. And I'd still like to eat organic cucumbers and wear organic cotton sweatshop free sundresses and use cruelty free lemongrass lavender infused bath oils. Being that I'm a paper towel junkie, I've got a ways to go--but I signed up for these delightful daily emails and I'm gonna start a passionate love affair with distilled white vinegar and public transportation.

4. Answer my phone. Call my mother back. Keep in contact with loved ones--maybe (I say maybe) even write a letter or something like that. Maybe.

5. Although I know organization is the general theme of a new year--I feel like somebody I live with is planting these in the magazine rack in the bathroom to tell me something:


Ok, I get it. You want me to start a hip, young magazine that features young hip caucasian women on the cover. Hmmm....OR you want me to read the organization features and actually organize the multitude of "stuff" that slowly is taking over the nook and crannies of our home sweet home. '08 is it: the year that I simplify & organize & stress out less about the piles of unopened letters and unused hangers that live in the corners of the spare bedroom. There. Now cure me of my clutter madness Blueprint & Domino Magazine!

6. Dig a little deeper. Granted, every journal/diary I've ever found makes me cring and partially want to rip it up quickly to guarantee that no one will ever find it, but when it comes down to it, I'm a true believer in writing as a form of creativity & really cheap therapy. I'm talking cheap--steal a pen from the bank, find a cereal box, and go. to. town. On that note, this digging that I'd like to embark on encompasses creativity----I'd like to plug in my sewing machine (although it does look adorable as a table decoration) and cut up some scraps and make some sort of something that I can force my girl to use everywhere as a sign of her love & support of me. I'm a fan of this lady for personal reasons (as well as for her love of fried chicken & hollywood gossip) and I signed up for her free (free! my favorite word!) 12 steps for the soul e-mail e-course. Being that the first question instantly made me think "pizza!" I probably haven't gone that deep yet.

7. Pay Attention! To what these fancy politicians are saying! To what filmmakers are saying! To what women are saying! To what my neighbors are saying! To what journalists are saying! To what the historians/social activists/foreign countries/authors/world leaders/grandmothers are saying!

8. Start a store on Etsy. Ok, you got me. I'm completely the type of person that, when making a list-to-do, writes down things that I've already done for the satisfaction of crossing it off. It's true, Lady Friend did go Etsy, but it's my resolution to keep it going, adding new vintage goodness and making it something that I enjoy and does good for me and other corners of the world.


happy 2008 everybody & all.

warmly,
lady

a love letter of sorts

Dear Chicago,

It’s been four months since I left you.

Four and a half, if we want to get exact.

I feel like in the past four and a half months every memory I’ve had with you from the previous seven and a half years has floated up from my sub-conscious, surprising me with remembering pangs while I’m performing the most mundane tasks—brushing my teeth in the morning, checking my email, blinking.

I think about moments that were never important enough to resurface. Mediocre minutes spent in a downtown grocery store----waiting for the bus on Broadway----sharing the sidewalk with strangers.

I wonder sometimes if I’m getting close to running out of my memories—and in desperation my mind is reaching far back for anything related to you.

So far, in my life, seven and half years is the longest relationship I’ve had. It may sound strange, crazy, to think of our anything as a “relationship,” but I knew before I left it was the end of whatever word you can use to describe what we had. It felt different.

It feels very right, here, in my new home—my new city. It feels very hopeful, to be corny.

I do think about you often---and it’s familiar, this fresh break-up ache of loneliness and anxiety and fear of running into you at the post office and smiling brightly while my stomach sits on the top of my shoes.

Thank you for keeping me warm and safe for seven and a half years. And for teaching me a couple of things about living and life.

Take care of yourself.

Love,
Me.