Monthly Archives: July 2013

I don’t always post things from work, but when I do…

This is an interview with Lynda Barry, artist and human. I attended this event, and now the film is up. The talk is fun, inspiring, interesting, and hilarious.

A conversation with Lynda Barry

I might not be the right one. It might not be the right time.

“Marriage is happy news.”

I love watching people who are about to get married. I love watching the ones who are just intoxicated with each other, watching each other’s every move, barely able to keep their hands to themselves when they sit down together.

It didn’t work out for me. But I still love the idea. I love watching people shop for wedding dresses and get ready for the big day. Even though I don’t want any of that anymore—I don’t want the foofy white dress or the cinderella diamonds, the fancy cake or the shiny shoes—I still like watching other people who are busy trying to plan all those things.

Maybe it’s something about the idea of getting ready, preparing. Spending time, in this increasingly busy world, on these crazy little details. There aren’t very many times that we spend that ridiculous amount of energy on tiny, tiny things that don’t really matter. But for weddings, people do it, for some reason. Maybe because they think those details are going to make the marriage better, somehow? Or maybe because they care about their partner and they want to start things off right.

I dunno. All I know is: I love watching people try on wedding dresses. So it’s super convenient that they made a show about it so I can just sit in my house and drink diet Coke (caffeine free—it’s late) and watch them while they get all fluffed up in ruffles and lace, sparkles and satin. I get to see the ones with the twinkles in their eyes when they talk about their soon-to-be spouses. That’s my favorite.

This picture has nothing to do with this, but isn’t my boy handsome? This is years ago. He’s getting so big now. His shoes are bigger than mine.

You’re like the dead sea.

Met someone today with a very, very firm handshake. There were about 5 people in the room, when this person was brought in and introduced. He shook each of our hands on his way around the room. Smiles all around. “Welcome,” shake shake shake, “Hello,” shake shake shake, “Nice to meet you,” shake shake. You know the drill.

He didn’t say much. He left the room quickly. About 5 seconds after the door closed, we all looked at each other and realized all of us were massaging our hands because he had shaken each one of our hands SO HARD that they were actually sort of injured. We smiled and laughed and then went back to our meeting.

I’m sure the person who was doing the shaking thought they were making a connection with the people in the room. That connection was fake and surface-level though. The connection between the people that were left talking about their injuries was the real one.

Wonder how many times it happens that way.

I can’t wait to get up.

The spark. The spark is the beginning.

Fuel burns, wheels turn. But not without a spark. I got my car back from the shop today. I had put off the repairs for a long, loooong time, thinking it would probably be something terribly expensive. “I can’t handle that right now,” I thought. So I just drove it in town, didn’t go too far, took the train if I needed to go to Orange County or something, and I told myself I would deal with it when I got back from Colorado.

Well, my Colorado trip came and went, and I thought I had better take it into the shop. Turns out, it was a spark plug. Just one. One tiny spark missing. The rest were doing their best to make up for it, but this one was dead. No spark, no fire. So even though the engine was sort of working, and it would turn the wheels and everything, I was never able to go very far.

And I think about life. Work. How many days do we spend with our engines limping along, chugging, when we could be racing? What would it be like, if we had all our sparks?

Each of us has our own special engine. A unique combination of sparks, the things that drive us and light us up from the inside. Some of them are working, but some of them are cold. Latent talents, unique gifts, passions just waiting to be ignited. Let’s get all the sparks firing and see where we can go.

I haven’t felt this alive in a long time.

A picture, and a story. Story first.

Well, it’s not really a story, actually. But I just feel like writing… something. Something about my life. So here you go. Today, I was in line to get lunch (salad bar). There was a tray that had been full of tortellini pasta salad, but there was only one tortellini left. I wanted to take it, but there was someone on the other side of the salad bar, so I didn’t take it. They took it. The tortellini pasta was gone. Sigh. Ok, no problem. No pasta for me.

I sat down, and then about two minutes later, my friend came and joined me. I looked at their plate. “Oh, ho! What is this?” I thought. “Pasta!” Apparently, they had put out more pasta, right after I went through the salad bar. So I got up, quickly, and got another plate. A plate with one purpose: pasta. But by the time I got to the pasta dish, it was all gone again. No pasta for me.

Some days, you just don’t get the pasta. Even if you get up really fast and get a new plate. And that’s okay.

And now, a picture. This is the mountain at the base of the hike to Judd Falls, in Crested Butte. I’ll post more Crested Butte photos. Maybe one per day, with a little story that has nothing to do with it. Also, the title of this post is a song lyric, that has nothing to do with either the story or the picture. I think that sounds like a good theme for the month, actually. Unrelated stories, song lyrics, and photos. All jammed together, one per day.