The Daily Writer

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection." - Anais Nin

I think most of us know someone who keeps a daily diary or journal. The type of person who keeps a merticulous record of their writings. They end each day with a cup of joe or a spot of tea, maybe scotch on the rocks. They sit in a large comfy velvet armchair and pull out a brown tattered hardcover journal with their name imprinted on it in Old English - very masterpiece theatre-ish. Then with a majestic fountain pen poised over a blank page, they relax and write to their heart's content.
I don't mean to criticize daily diarists. In fact I totally envy them. I wish I had that sort of self discipline, and I also wish I could drink straight scotch but I can barely handle a wine cooler much less hard liquor. It is this methodical type of journaling that often intimidates me from keeping a daily diary. I always feel a pressure to be profound on the first few pages of my entry and sometimes that pressure I place on writing something-smart-so-I-can-look-back-on-it-later doesn't always help in my pursuit to jot down my thoughts on a daily basis.
My writings are scattered on paper but mostly on internet blogs. I have several online blogs including xanga and today out of sheer boredom, I went back and started reading them. I do know since I started writing that it has always been a form of therapy for me, just the same as reading other people's thoughts. There is personal substantiation in seeing your own strange thoughts exhibited in someone else's cerebral showcase.
It is in the countless quiet hours I've spent writing in my journals on and offline, I have recorded moments both simple and emotionally inundating, I have scratched wounds wide open in order to start the healing process; I have recorded my vices with a trembling hand and laugh at them later. I have identified some of my most glaring flaws with the hopes of correcting them. I've written the most lovey dovery mushy mashy heart felt love notes. I have written to release and found sanity in my words. And today, for the countless time, I start a new journal, a gift from my sister.
Thank You B.
- the person who has always read my writings, and loved me just the same.

Shipping and Handling Woes

The Post Office Gods are toying with me. The custom handmade fairy tutus for my nieces was a non-delivery and the post office can't locate the package nor can I find the "suppose" attempted delivery slip. The book I ordered from half.com is lost in transit and I am still waiting for my refund. My Cambodian stamps and money has yet to arrive after nearly 3 weeks. Really, does it take that long to send paper items from Cambodia? I have a custom bag coming by way of Australia and another bag from So.Cal that might not make it here by the time I leave for the 31st. Forever21 and JCrew orders were just recently shipped when I ordered the items on Tuesday! I don't know why it took so long to process but I paid more for fast shipping so I should get it soon, right? Huy...remind me to not wait till the last two weeks to do everything. I don't even think I will have time to put together the baby gift if things don't arrive on time! Good grief...

Craft Happy!

I'm a self proclaimed craftophile who loves browsing online craft sites and going to craft show. I always see an endless flow of possible DIY projects but I think sometimes I bite off more than I can chew. I started to make a pinata earlier this month but now it's only semi-finished and I started another project that I recently decided to scratch because I didn't have all the supplies and materials needed to make it. I find myself easily fixated with an idea but than I become bored or distracted with a new idea. I know...I have too much time on my hands.
I've decided to make a list of projects I'd really like to make for either myself or as gifts to friends and families.

Martha's Vineyard

An escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Martha's Vineyard is the perfect island getaway to celebrate our two year anniversary. I am looking forward to exploring this idyllic summer retreat rich in New England history and maritime culture. The island has a number of towns that have their own particular charms, from secluded cliff walks, historic light houses to swanky shops and boutiques. I have not been to the island in many years so I'm not sure how well my memory will serve me especially since I have a terrible sense of direction. But I do remember my favorites including Murdick's Fudge in Edgartown and the small fishing village of Menemsha, which holds the title of the BEST sunset lobster on this side of the coast. It's definitely a romantic hot spot for the lovebirds. As cliched as it is I still plan on creating some memorable "us" moments there with the S.O. The quaint town of Vineyard Haven boosts some of the most scenic beaches and breath taking views of the ocean. I can fondly remember the first time I was standing there on the beach, eyes squinted toward the strange formation of the waves in the distance, and with my legs firmly planted in the wet sand. I was standing before it, beckoning to its strength and force. Behold...Mighty Atlantic.

Locked In - Diving Bell

The story of Jean-Dominique Bauby is truly an inspirational one. This man’s legend is clear proof that all of our worldly desires lie at our fingertips; those with only the mightiest grasp can attain anything. Incapacitation only measures our accomplishments as much as we will it to. A man who was paralyzed from head to toe still managed to set his insecurities and limitations aside and publish a novel. After watching the film, I felt a greater sense of appreciation for the things most of us take for granted like being able to touch, to feel, and to move. I simply can't imagine what it's like to be a prisoner trapped in my own body...

Jean-Dominique Bauby, a French Journalist was the editor of Elle magazine before he suffered a massive stroke in 1995. The stroke resulted in a rare condition called Locked-In syndrome. His muscular functions were paralyzed but his mental capacities were unaffected. His only way to communicate with the world was to blink his left eye which he used to dictate word for word his memoir. He died of pneumonia a few days after his book was published in 1997.