Apron: Sewing Design 1

I completed my first big official sewing project! I had every intention to make an apron from the start and sat on the fabric (which I couldn't walk away from) for a few weeks. Then on a day home from work due to headache, I began piecing things together and before I knew it the whole thing was done!



I tried to keep the top fairly traditional but a little bit contoured so it looked like 1) it was made for a lady, and 2) it isn't some bbq couture.



The skirt, which I'm rather proud of, features my first experience with pleats to give it a little kitchy 1950s flair.



And in whole, it is fit perfectly for me...including the low pockets for my long frame. More decorative than useful, there may come a time they come in handy.

Sabbatical.

Even though I've been gone, I'm craftier than ever. I've been sewing and cooking like a good wife does.

This summer I began undertaking a project that took far more time (and more glue sticks) than anticipated, but it's finally done!

Presenting my new cookbook, filled with recipes I've collected over the last few years (mostly the last 3 years but some are 10+years old) in one nice and neat spot with room to grow.



Now maybe to start working on that kitchy apron I have planned...

Summer Update.

When my mother saw pictures of my apartment she commented that it looked so clean that I must be bored out of my mind. I’m not a cleaner. If you ever happen to come to my apartment and note how clean it is, it is almost guaranteed that it was my husband that did it.

That’s not to say I can’t clean. I just don’t like to clean. Occasionally I will pick up the place in the event someone is coming over. Or say, my favorite group of musicians is in town and I offer them a place to crash.

Other than that, I only clean because I’m upset. Anger makes the place sparkle. And lately my boredom has coupled with wanting the place to look good for El, so it’s nice.

Besides, I’ve taken care of my Summer To Do List and really don’t know what else to do.

Apart from the professional development and career things I needed to take care of this summer, I managed to:

Learn to Sew.


This was my first venture and I managed to pull off some nice pillows. Made two hand-bags, too.

Cook More, and Completely Homemade.


Chicken Pot Pie


Chicken Teryaki


Peach Salsa


Coconut Macaroons

And then there was the dinner I held and prepared before my wedding reception...




Of course, there were dozens more things I should have captured, but didn’t manage to picture. I need to work on taking nicer pictures of my food, anyway. Getting better dishes and plating better. The having-people-over-for-dinner period of our newlywed lives is still to come. I’m ready to step up to the plate but only if it fits around derby practice.

Oprah?

Perhaps it could not have happened at a better time, Comcast finally realizing that after taking away cable channels from basic services, that they had still left the high-def feeds hidden in the channels. I didn’t need that extra excuse to be sucked into hours of tv every day, and now I feel a break. This morning when I found that they were “scrambled” I was actually productive! I read, I cleaned the house, I gave the dog a haircut and bath, vacuumed and now I’m settling down to work on some academic mumbo-jumbo.

Good step in the right direction, yes?

Unfortunately, I can waste just as much time on basic channels as I can on cable. Sure, there is no House Hunters or What Not to Wear, no Bobby Flay or Duff Goldman. No more Dance Your Ass Off (but I think I can watch those all on the computer anyway).

I’m left with traditional programming. The Today Show in the morning. Rachael Ray and Ellen in the afternoon. Sometimes even Oprah.

Now, I feel like I have to preface the fact that I’m not a mainstream audience. I’m not the typical woman who gets sucked into these shows because they deal with issues that fit my life. They don’t. But I like the spectacle. It’s like picking up Cosmo magazine and getting a chuckle.

I’m with Denis Leary, here. I really didn’t want to like Oprah. In fact, the show that really messed with my head a few days ago was completely laughable in it’s false-seriousness and melodrama. Yet I watched, half way, reading and studying as I drowned it out in the background (a skill mastered by 28 years of heavy TV watching that my husband cannot fathom).

And I heard it. Over and over she says, “I thought for years I had a weight issue. It’s not a weight issue. It’s a love issue.” She founds her change of weight on an “imbalance” in her life. I shake my head and grumble “Yeah. You love the food and you can afford it all!”

But then I think about it a minute. I want to say she’s wrong, that it IS food and not love, but I’m busy thinking what has changed for me. What has altered for me the last two years, the 25 lbs I’ve gained back and can’t seem to shake.

I know the easy answer is the life changes. A move cross-country and then an explosive and destructive series of difficult decisions and actions. My chance to regain my life has poor foundation, a lot of love and no money. I hate myself and everything about where I live. Where I’m at. I have three amazing things: El, my dream job and Sadie. But I’m poor. I’m unhappy. I’m trying so hard to be productive and carry things on the way I had, but I don’t have control anymore.

My imbalance is a lack of personal power. When I lost all the weight I was at the height of power. I made great money, I was at the top of my game, got my MA and drove my car quickly from place to place making the city mine. I lost all of that independence and progress. My environment was never my ideal, but it fit and allowed me to care for myself in a way I never understood until now.

When I lost that stability and power I drank to make it better. I ate to feel better. Both El and I experienced the same thing, I think. Life was drowning us and we were too tired to keep trying to surface. We let it come. We let it wash over us in hopes that at some point we would wash ashore someplace better. Have the energy to fix it.

We’re unhappy because of the weight but can’t seem to muster the energy to push beyond weekend drinking and tasty treats because our days are stressful. El and I feed off of one another. We comfort and medicate.

Thinking about the future, about paying off our debt but being in this financial purgatory of sorts puts things in perspective. The very real possibility that in two years we could have a house and be on the first major step to independence and personal power makes me giddy. Nurturing a garden and acquiring puppies. Going back to school and starting on a PhD (which I had all but given up on, honestly). Living comfortably enough to travel and make friends. Even to consider having children. I need this personal power. I need this kind of goal keeping. I need to hurl my entire body toward the future to handle the present.

And that all starts with a smaller waistline. Shedding pounds like skin, finding myself renewed and strong underneath.

What I did on my summer vacation...

Never left the house.

Now, that’s a lie. I’m only in four days and have been home bound half of that (the other two days full of errand running equaling most people’s weeks!). It is to be expected, to want to lay around with the dog and watch bad daytime TV.

We canceled the cable just in time—I was watching a program on VH1 called Tough Love, where some douche bag is helping slutty but insecure girls find a solid and healthy relationship. It was like watching a car wreck, slow motion drunken drooling and outrageous hollering. Like Rehab for Botox injected sex addicts.

Speaking of which, I’m addicted to a new series. The never having to leave the house thing is really because of Netflix. They are enablers, those little red-envelope pushing darlings. Not only have I been cashing in on like 6 DVDs a week, but I’ve begun the instant viewing on my computer.

And good golly if I haven’t fallen head over heels for David Duchovny all over again. I didn’t think I’d even make it through one episode of Californication because it seemed so unnecessarily raucous and sleazy. I think I counted 10 set of bare shaking breasts in the pilot alone. But that faded away, fell to the background, and I found myself watching the entire freaking season 1 on the couch, eyes welling up, head shaking. Sucked into Duchovny’s total asshole persona all the while adoring him and realizing how amazing he actually is.

(Side note: Has degrees in English. Senior thesis on Beckett! Has an MA in English from Yale. Was going to pursue a PhD. I knew he was bright, but hot shit! He’s stolen my heart!)

Coincidentally, I’m almost done with Twin Peaks, which I’m watching for the first time. Hey—I was like 10 when it was on TV. I was busy with 90210 and that kind of pre-pubescent stuff. My Duchovny fest was punctuated with the appearance of the DEA’s agent Denise...in heels and a dress. Slightly different venture, but still charming. I love the series, but it is spiraling downward quickly. Non-renewal will do that to your writing.

+++

That’s what married life has become. Cleaning, watching bad TV, begging my tomatoes to grow, waiting for the husband to come home and entertain me with good TV. Bought a new TV only to cancel the cable and end up watching shows on my computer (Which I will figure out how to connect to the TV for superior viewing pleasure, mind you. #45686 on my things to do). I got a bike! We canceled the gym. Things seem much more simple now. Walking for hours through local neighborhoods with the dog, house dreaming and planning. Plotting.

For season 2.