I finally posted a few pictures in my flickr account...and went against everything I believed about keeping myself anonymous and put up a few pictures of myself. So there I am. Although, probably 99% of the people who read this know exactly what I look like anyway...

This one is my favorite: walking west on Chicago avenue to the Black Beetle the other night, we passed this guitar store/restaurant. The best part was the gravy sandwich. If they were open I would have gone in, sat at the counter and ordered one just to see what the deal is. I mean, for $0.89, why not?

I mangled my feet "breaking in" a pair of shoes at a wedding three weeks ago, and have been sentenced to flip flops while they have been healing. Now that they are as good as new, I can finally wear closed-toed shoes again! Yay!

I saw a girl on the train today with the cutest t-shirt, and not an hour after I get to work I have one being shipped to me as well. I love the internet.

I also love cooking mexican-style rice, now that I've finally learned how to! Yay for me! I made a big old batch last night, and have eaten it for both dinner and breakfast. If I wasn't going to lunch with some coworkers today, I'd be eating it a third time in a row as well. Peas and corn and tomato and yum.

I might give up on posting photos soon. I'm just too lazy.

I'm researching caterers for work, and have been thoroughly entertained at the incorrect grammar, terrible punctuation and creative verbiage used in descriptions. By "olive oil poached" do you mean fried?

I am also entertained by the dozens of ideas for new recipes running through my head. Roast chicken with apple and grape stuffing. Oh my!

I'm a little bummed today because I don't get summer hours tomorrow. I don't think I've mentioned that before; it is one of the wonderful perks of my new job. There are many wonderful perks of my new job. Many reasons why you should be jealous. Here are the top 5 reasons I love my job:

1. A two thousand dollar coffee machine in our kitchen that grinds and brews per cup. My coffee consumption has gone up considerably in the past three weeks. Whoo!
2. Summer hours! Whoo! 1:00 Friday and I'm home on the roof. Except this week, of course.
3. 100% paid health and dental premium. Whoo!
4. Fruit, sparkling water and Diet Coke always on hand. Ahhh.
5. Flip flops! Jeans! T-shirts! At work! I wore a skirt today and had four comments on how "nice" I was dressed. Dude, I'm wearing flip flops. I don't think they'd recognize me if I wore a suit.

However, I am still getting used to a couple of things here, as working at a small creative company is MUCH different than working for a large educational institution. I'm still adjusting, but it is going quite well. Change is great.

Next post I promise to get off the job topic. And pictures? Soon!!

Ok, so I've been away and slacking and boring here, but I'm alive and well and my brain is overflowing because I haven't put anything down in writing in a very long time. I seem to have forgotten how to break up a run on sentence as well. I have a ton of pictures to upload, send to friends, share...I'm just so busy and preoccupied with everything else to take the time to do it. But that's ok, because I'm keeping busy.

Lately I've been feeling more and more settled, more and more real, if that makes sense. I'm feeling like I've actually become emily, and am not always waiting for the next change. Things are falling into place and solidifying, and I really really like it that way. I feel correct, in tune, real. You know?

I am thoroughly enjoying the summer, with skirts and my big pink sunglasses and three different sets of tan lines. Laying on the deck for an hour is my new all time favorite weekend activity. I look a lot healthier with a tan. I'm gearing up for visitors (as always), fairs, festivals, and music. I know I keep harping on this, but I'm incredibly happy. Things are just going perfectly. This very well may be the very best summer of my life. Wow. That feels great to be able to say. *sigh*

I wrote this nearly a month ago, after a visit from some college friends. Considering food is one of my all time favorite topics, I don't know why I saved it as a draft for so long, but here it is nonetheless:

What is it about having guests in town that make me overeat like crazy? I am a planner, and have a phobia about starving to death, so I always plan my weekends with visitors around the food we will eat and the places we will eat it. We wanted to show our guests all of the delicious eateries that our neighborhood has to offer, and a few homemade meals to boot.

I got a recipe from a magazine my boss brought in for Southern Stuffed Chicken with Apricot Rum BBQ Sauce, and I (as always) altered it to fit the ingredients I had and the skills I thought I could master. The original recipe called for chicken hindquarters, the thigh of which was to be deboned and pounded thin for stuffing while still attached to the leg. This didn't look too bad, but it seemed like an awful lot of food for one person, so I opted for boneless skinless chicken breasts and thighs instead. The stuffing was a combination of greens (I used mustard greens), bacon, fresh corn, jalapeno, cayenne pepper, onion and crumbled cornbread. I have some left over which I plan to eat straight out of the tupperware. It also called for red bell pepper, but I left that part out. The BBQ sauce was onion, ginger, garlic, apricot preserves, and I substituted brandy for the dark rum. It was really sweet, but complimented the spicy stuffing perfectly. I pounded the chicken thin, stuffed it, tied it up and grilled away. The sauce was basted on right at the end of cooking, so it wouldn't burn. We served it with fresh grilled corn on the cob and my brussel sprouts, halved and sauteed with bacon. I kept patting myself on the back for this one...it turned out pretty damned good if I do say so myself. If you want the full recipe, let me know. (although I seem to have summed it up pretty well right here.)

We had a terrific weekend, with music, food, art and lots of walking. I always enjoy having visitors, especially ones we don't have a chance to spend time with all that often.

I'm in a whirlwind. And I love it. I love my new job, I love the fact that I've been inspired to begin painting again, and I love that crafty ideas are running all through my thick skull. I love that I work in a warm and inviting and comfortable environment where people eat cereal out of real bowls at their desks in the morning. I love that my boss has a toddler son who comes to the office and who has told me that he loves me, that he likes my curly hair, and that he wants me to stay here forever. I love that I have things in common with people. I love that I've found my element. It is nice.

So in the past week I've made two paintings/collages and I promise to take some photos soon. Two pieces of art! More on that later.

I'm just happy. Things are good.

I've been terribly slacking in the photo department, but I hope that that change of scenery that my new job will bring will freshen my perspective and open my eyes. A day and a half left of my old job, and it looks like I will end up quietly slipping out. Which is fine.

Friday I am officially unemployed, and plan to paint my toenails, drink wine on the roof, and get a haircut. Pampering and relaxing for emily day. I absolutely can't wait. We're getting a new patio table and chairs tonight so we have something decent to eat our summer dinners on. And somewhere to place our wine when we're relaxing on our day off.

I've been decidedly less shoppy lately, as I discovered that I am transitioning from bi-weekly to monthly paychecks. This means that I may not get my first paycheck for 6 weeks. That may put a cramp in the bill paying situation.

My lunch date is late and I'm starving. Eh.

I have guests in town, and am barely surviving off a week of 5 hours of sleep per night. My usual 7 to 8 are not in the cards right now, and my body is definitely suffering. My lack of rest got in the way of my feet this morning on the steps up to the train as I tripped over my toenails, half ripping my left big toenail off my foot. It was a spectacular performance. I barely even broke my stride. Once I got to the office and assessed the damage, I craftily used some white-out tape to repair the rip and simulate the french pedicure I had so carefully labored over not once, but twice this week. You can barely tell. I am such an artist. And a priss.

I've been obsessed with phobias lately, and for some time have been working on a list of things I am afraid of. After finishing Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, I am also obsessed with alphabetical lists, hence the following alphabetical list of my fears.

A
alone, being

accidentally falling down

airplane landings

B
blood

birth, giving

breaking bones

C
car accidents

cutting myself

choking in a restaurant

computers crashing

D
death

dogs of very very large stature

E

earthquakes

everyone seeing me fall down

embarrassing myself in front of a lot of people

F
falling down

foot, breaking my

forgetting how to cook

food poisoning

falling out, the diamond in my engagement ring

G

giant spiders

grates in the sidewalk

H
horse hooves, being trampled by

heights (a little bit)

I
injections

ice skating on natural ice (not in a rink)

J
jinxing things

K

kids, ending up with bad

L
losing my mind

losing loved ones

losing my hair

M
mind readers

maxing out my credit card

N
needles

naked people, crazy

O
overestimating my own ability

operations, surgical

P

peeing my pants

putting my foot in my mouth

passing out at an inopportune time

Q
quantities of blood, losing large

R
rejection

realizing it's all just a dream

S
stairs, falling down

severing a finger

spilling drinks on people

spiders with long hairy legs

T
tripping (...and consequently falling)

trust broken, having my

U
upside-down, being trapped

underwear, not having enough clean

V
vehicle maintenance, the cost of

W
weighing much more than I should

writer's block

X
????

Y
young republicans

Z
zoot suit riot, a

zombies

Oh my god it's summer and I couldn't be more thrilled. Well, I probably could be a little bit more thrilled, say, if I won the lottery and my dog cured himself of Addison's disease, and I didn't have blisters on my left foot. I would be a little more thrilled then. But I'm thrilled all the same.

Summer has made my apartment quite uncomfortably oven-like, which made me wish 1) it was still spring. We didn't seem to have a sufficient spring this year, and that sucks. 2) I had short hair. The wave is obnoxiously warm. 3) I had central air conditioning. We have some window units, but they are heavy and I am very very busy. And I like to complain. 4) I could take frozen margaritas with me everywhere I went.

Hubb and I visited an antique sale on Friday and came home with a beautiful antique pressed tin ceiling tile that now graces the freshly painted space above my couch. It is a beautiful organgey-pinky-rusty-tinny gorgeousness, and I honestly don't know how I ever lived without it. I'll take a picture soon. My house now feels complete, more complete than I ever thought it would feel. It's amazing how adding a few pieces of art on the wall can make you feel at home. I really need to get started on my canvas.

Last night I received another Poise creation, an altered Lacey Clutch with pretty pink lining and proportioned just right for my petite frame. It is perfect and I love Cinnamon for being so talented and wonderful and for being my own personal purse-maker. I have a secret plan to have her perpetually working on something for me. I hope she doesn't mind. Having Cinnamon make a purse specifically for me is way better than shopping for one, hands down.

Dear Hubb,

Thank you for dealing with my bullshit, letting me be a control freak, eating anything I put in front of you, and for letting me display those rooster plates that I know you secretly hate. And thank you for sticking up for me and for pushing me to do what I really want to do, and for letting me get those red pointy shoes. I really love those shoes. And thank you for not making me feel stupid and slothy when I watch four episodes of Law and Order in a row.

And thank you for not being jealous, and for giving me a thumbs up and a pat on the back when I think I deserve it, even when you don't agree. And for letting me gloat. And for not getting upset when I point out that I am better at something than you are. I can't help it. Thank you for being better than me at the things I don't want to do anyway.

And thank you for the good times and the bad, the sickness and the health, the richer and the poorer. And for really meaning it when you said "always and forever."

Thank you for taking me out to dinner this Friday. I would like to try some place new.

I forgive you for that one time you called me by your mother's dog's name. And the other time that you told me that I didn't "need" ice cream. At the time I really didn't "need" it.

I love you.

Always and forever,
em

I am on the cusp of a new and exciting me...I think it's safe and unjinxable at this point to announce that I will be starting a new job later this month. I've finally broken into the creative world and will be working for an innovative and rapidly growing design firm. I'm leaving corporate political institutional employment behind and am taking on the exciting and intimate world of a small firm. I am thrilled beyond words, and have been on edge for nearly a month during interviews, lunches, negotiations and contracts. (Negotiations. I feel like a terrorist.) (deleted)

As the excitement builds and I sit and daydream about my new opportunity, I absolutely can't wait to start. And wear flip flops to work again. And jeans. And have "summer hours" and work with people who are passionate and energetic and creative. Oh my god!

My parents were in for the Memorial Day weekend, and we had an amazingly fun time. I realize how much I miss my family every time we part. I am such a daddy's girl.

A silly little additional excitement about my new employment is that my route to work won't change much; I'll just be getting off and on the bus closer to home. So I still get to walk down Damen Avenue to Chicago to catch the bus, past a coffee shop that promises to be "coming soon!". I am excited to have a coffee shop located directly along my route, but the name is giving me second thoughts about becoming a patron. "Barista Coffee House." Now isn't that ironic and redundant and just about the stupidest name for a coffee shop, ever? I bet the same marketing genius can come up with great names like "Chef Restaurant", "Hair Stylist Salon", "Surgeon Hospital", and "Surly Cashier Bargain Store." I just feel like they could have been a tiny bit more creative and inventive to come up with a name that is a little less forgettable.

Hubb and I spent our day off work on our deck, enjoying the sun and the clear sky, and partaking in the very first grilled meal of the season. It was phenomenal. I haven't eaten a steak in who knows how long, and I had forgotten how incredibly delicious grilled corn on the cob can be. I made my special butter blend, asparagus and spring onion bundles, and we even purchased a brand new tablecloth for the event.

What with the new job on the horizon, the sun outside, and the sleep deprivation of the last month, I am having incredible trouble paying attention to anything at work this morning.

Dearest Phone Call (I feel that we are so intimately close now...may I call you Phone Call?),

You tested me and teased me, not arriving until oh so late, but like the reliable and wonderful thing that you are, you came through in the end. I am sorry I ever doubted your loyalty to me. And I'm sorry I called you a bitch.

You totally made my day, Phone Call. I owe you a drink.

Love,
emily

P.S. - Would you mind telling The E-mail That I am Desperately Waiting For to hurry her little electronic ass up so I can get on with the wonderful changes that are in store for me? Thanks. Love ya.

I'm a big fan of the open letter concept. Whenever I 'm feeling like a giggle and a laugh, and have a couple of minutes to spare, I meander over to McSweeney's. The concept of writing a letter to unknowing people, places, and things just tickles me pink. I've been known to take a stab at it, at this very site, talking to my future neighborhood, an ex boyfriend...and I have at least a dozen open letter drafts saved for other times. Ramsin of GB really made my day with the most recent Revenge. Open letters are fun fun fun.

So without further adieu, Open Letter to the Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For:

Dear Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For,

I want you. I need you. I am lost without you. I want nothing more than to be with you, right now, alone, with a glass of champagne and a smile on my face. I would give anything to hear your sweet yet slightly annoying ring in my ears, to feel the cool beige handset of hope against my head, to hear the words I so desperately yearn for. You've been a long time coming, Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For, and I am tickled with anticipation for your arrival. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't even explain to you how impossible it is to keep my cool. And wait. We all know I hate waiting, yet you continue to leave me sitting with no word...wait a minute, is this a test? To see if and when I will break down and cry? To see if I will go stark raving mad? To see if I will break all of the unspoken rules and do something inappropriate? Well, screw you, then, Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For. Screw. You.

What's that? The phone is ringing, oh my god it could be you I might throw up my hands are shaking I can't believe it holy crap I am so nervous and excited!

It wasn't you, as I'm sure you are aware. I bet you set that guy up to call me, just to trick me into getting all adrenaline-rushed and dry-mouthed and stuttery. Did you know that I ate at least 5000 calories yesterday, in an attempt to ease the tension in my stomach? Yeah, you're right. It didn't work. I only feel fat and bloated and even more uncomfortable today because of it. You are a tricky little bitch, Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For. You are making me turn on my own body, making me reevaluate my worth, stress over whether you have the correct phone number, if you ever made it into a calendar or a to-do list, if you were lost in the busy comings and goings of daily office life. I hope you weren't.

I forgive you for making me wait, my dearest Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For. More honestly, I WILL forgive you if you arrive soon. But if you wait until 6:00 this evening, I might slit my wrists in agony and self-justified imagined defeat. Not really, but I might end up with an ulcer by then, and I might eat the huge box of Mrs. Field's cookies sitting on our small conference table, conveniently located right in front of my desk. They look disgustingly greasy and fat laden to me now, but I may be hopelessly lacking in the self esteem and self restraint departments by the end of the day. So it's up to you, Phone Call I'm Desperately Waiting For, to save me from myself. I'm here, waiting. For you.

Love always (unless I don't hear from you soon),

emily

As I play the waiting game to see what my future will hold, I am feeling rather listy. So here it goes.

Things I hate yet secretly love anyway just because they give me something to complain about:
1. Waiting for things. Important lovely incredibly exciting things in particular.
2. Being consistently 5 pounds over my goal weight.
3. Being tired.

Things I am afraid of, in theory; I don't really know how afraid I actually am because I've never been faced with any of them:
1. Killer bees.
2. Being mauled by a bear.
3. Tumbling head-first down the stairs to my building at the start of a weekend when coincidentally all of my neighbors are out of town, to lay limp and broken with no hope of being found before tragically dying of thirst.
4. Being fired from a job because of too much solitaire and pop&drop playing.
5. Giving birth.

My favorite song of the moment:
"Sunshowers" by M.I.A.. I think I listened to it 7 times on the bus this morning.

Reasons I could never run for president:
1. I was bad in high school. Real bad.
2. I get flustered when given too much responsibility.
3. I have no desire to live in DC.
4. I tend to take things a little bit too personally.

Things that irritate me:
1. Ignorance.
2. The Vast Unknown.
3. Loud background music when I'm trying to sleep, work, watch CSI, read, or take a bath.
4. Movies with indecipherable dialogue.
5. The strap on that one black bra that I still insist on wearing because it was expensive and of good quality.

Things I'd rather be doing right now:
1. Not waiting.
2. Sewing a tote bag.
3. Making jewelry.
4. Watching CSI.
5. Sleeping.
6. Jogging. Yes, jogging.
7. Drinking a glass of wine while cooking a delicious meal for 10.
8. Kissing.
9. Finishing my book.
10. Shopping. Always with the shopping.

Things worth waiting for:
1. Fame.
2. Fortune.
3. Children.
4. A really delicious meal.
5. Fine wine.
6. Marriage.
7. A fantastic employment opportunity.
8. Heaven. (If you believe in that stuff.)
9. The PERFECT pair of shoes.
10. Surprises.

I survived a week of poo and ick and awful terribleness...just barely at least. Each day felt like a never-ending Monday of the worst day of my life, if that makes sense. But it's over and the weekend was a strange combination of stressful and calming, with jewelry making and bridal showering and makeuping and eating and trying to sleep amid the party (that I was not invited to) going on in my backyard. Tomorrow will be a big day for me, no matter what the outcome. Change will be in my immediate future, and either way I think I'm ready to cope. I've had a lot of time to think and sort and imagine and dream and wonder about all kinds of options and opportunities and I'm feeling pretty good about the possibilities. Much better than the pit-of-despair mood I was in this morning, anyway, but that's not saying a whole lot.

I made the most beautiful huge jade and red seed bead necklace on Saturday at one of those make-your-own jewelry studios near my house. It was tons of fun, and I want to go back and make more and more and more. There are a plethora of jewelry artists and craftspersons in this city, but I'm feeling rather crafty and am itching to purchase some supplies and work on some pieces myself at home. I might just do it, but stick to making gifts for friends and family rather than trying to sell anything. It was highly therapeutic, stringing beads. If nothing else I'll end up with a fabulously colorful jewelry collection. That wouldn't be so bad.

I have this annoying proximity issue; I absolutely can't handle when something desirable is out of my reach, and I all too easily discount anything and everything within my grasp. Food: I always crave the foods I can't find. If I were in Rome I would probably be searching for a thai place. Clothes: I always want exactly the items that are sold out in my size. People: I have intense desires to spend time with the people farthest away from me. This issue works its power on me both ways; with all the food at my disposal, snacks in my drawer at work, meals waiting to happen in my cabinets, I am never satiated. After finally discovering petite sized clothes and filling my closets chock full of jeans and black tops, I don't want to wear any of it. With friends and acquaintances constantly trying to plan dates, I just want to stay home alone with CSI.

When stressed, I have an annoying physical tick of letting my mouth move just a split second faster than my brain. I can go entire days without speaking coherently. Today is one of those days. My boss actually asked if I needed to go home and sober up. If it were possible to eat a taco and drink a glass of water to dilute the intoxicating stress of life, I would totally do it every night.

I worked 12 hours yesterday. I will do so again starting tomorrow and ending Friday. I still have an hourly job (yay for me) so I get overtime, but it is still daunting to think about it. I already feel like it is Friday, I'm that pooped. I guess I should count my blessings, and my paycheck. It might not be much longer that I'll be paid for each hour worked over 40. Hmmm...

I'm finding myself retreating and shrinking, pulling in to myself and ignoring everything around me. I'm working hard and holding in. I am a time bomb. I don't remember a time when I didn't want to share what I was feeling. When I didn't care to talk about it, didn't want to discuss it, didn't need reassurances and consolation. It's happening right now and I'm not accustomed to it. It is a new feeling, this internalizing. I'm not quite sure how to handle it.

So I create a vague and mysterious blog post. It somehow makes me feel a little better.

It's only 9am and my day has already been made. Special thanks to the following:

- Dad riding bike to work, wearing a suit and with his leather suitcase on the handlebars. An 8 - 10 year old girl riding behind dad, hugging him, pink backpack on her back. Dropping her off at school, I imagine. I am still smiling about the scene.

- Pheonix. Alphabetical. Perfect morning music for a perfectly optimistic perfect weather day.

- (related) Sun. Forcasted 70 degree high. Perfect.

- Orange loafers and short pants. I'm all about the black and white with a splash of bright color these days. And orange, which used to be my least favorite color of all time. I am strangely drawn to it recently. It makes me happy and calm.

- Good hair. Really really good hair.

- Still giddy about the phone interview I had yesterday and the visit I will make to the office next week. I really really REALLY want this job, so I will not write any more for fear of a jinx.

- Self-consciously cought myself bouncing up the stairs out of the el stop, wondered what others were thinking of my uncharacteristically chipper morning mood. Decided I didn't care. Empowering feeling running through veins.

- Spotting more and more "You Are Beautiful" stickers and signs throughout the city. Constant reminder on the cover of my journal/datebook. I am beautiful. My day is made.

So I'm reading the Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krause Rosenthal, and I secretly believe that I wrote parts of it myself. Needless to say, it is slowly pulling me (kicking and screaming and biting and feigning passing out, like little kids when they want to make picking them up incredibly difficult if not impossible by imitating a 50 pound bag of flour) out of my anti-blog funk. I've been busy (my all time favorite excuse for not doing anything whatsoever) and tired (second favorite excuse) and have been neglecting blogger a bit over the past week or two. I've also been under-whelmed and not at all stimulated to be creative. But I love the book, it gives me an insanely large number of ideas, gets the blood and the thoughts flowing, and makes me smile. I'll be done with it by the end of the week, I'm sure, which makes me sad. I wish it were 10 times longer so I could read it into the summer.

I'm doing more things at work, and have a couple of incredibly important responsibilities on my palate for the next few weeks. It is thrilling and exhilarating and I love it, but it also makes me complain that I'm too busy. Eh. You just can't please me, can you?

I received a new wireless mouse at work this week and it is absolutely the best toy I've played with in a very long time. Extra buttons! Rubber grip! No cords! I love it. I've programmed the extra buttons on the side to switch tasks and minimize screens in order to keep what little privacy I can in my shared office. I have reconfigured my desk to where my boss can see my computer screen. I joke about playing solitaire all the time...I should probably not do that.

I am such a terrible person that I ordered a necklace for my mother in law for mother's day, and I am secretly hoping it arrives too late so I can keep it for myself. It is natural opal and ironstone, cut directly from an Australian boulder, and it is absolutely stunning. Opal is my birthstone, by the way.

I got a pair of brand new pink pants for $6 the other day, just because the seam was coming undone. Now as you probably know, I am a crafty and resourceful person and therefore can easily repair a one inch seam unraveling, and for that I get a great deal on pink pants. Which is nice. I just wanted to share my immense good fortune and seam fixing skills with you.

Hubb and I watched Blue Velvet last night (first for Hubb and third or fourth for me.) I haven't seen the film in a while, and am struck again at how incredibly strange it is. And how similar the cinematography, colors and acting are to Mulholland Drive. He's an incredibly disturbed, talented and fascinating man, that David Lynch. I always forget why I have this underlying strange creepy feeling when I see Dennis Hopper...I am reminded yet again.

Hubb beat me to it, but I also took some photos at the Garfield Park Conservatory that I would like to share. Notice my complete lack of knowledge and creativity when it came time to name the photos. This one is my favorite. Enjoy.