my latest artsy+crafty+designy project was making t-shirts for my running club. i designed the shirt, a friend provided AA shirts at wholesale prices, and another friend silkscreen printed the shirts. you guys are awesome!
we ran the santa cruz half marathon yesterday morning and finished the race at the beach -- tired, hot, thirsty, sweaty, and relieved that it was over. the night before, we had a giant carb potluck and prepped mentally for the race -- discussing various things like blisters, chaffing, power bars, potassium, ibuprofen, untimely bowel movements, dry-wick shirts, etc. i have to say the whole experience was worth it, and i'm starting to understand what people mean when they talk about "runner's high."
So I met up with a friend at the Ferry Building for lunch on Tuesday, and I guess I had left my cell phone sitting on a bench. I didn’t notice that my phone was missing until later that evening. I tried calling it a few times, but nobody answered. So I just figured it was long gone, and added it to the long mental list of things that I have either lost or gotten stolen: cell phones, ipods, credit cards, etc. I pretty much resigned myself to life without a cell phone, and was already starting to get comfortable with the minimalist lifestyle change. Although I will admit that at one point last night I thought I saw my phone in my bag, and I reached down for it excitedly, but then realized it was actually a shiny metal spoon that has the same color scheme (gold and silver) as my phone. It was a little sad.
So then last night I got an email from my mom, saying that some man called her from my phone and was holding onto it for me. I called her right back and got more info. She said the guy’s name was Boris and sounded kind of gruff on the phone. I asked her exactly what did he say? I guess he was like “Hi. I have a phone.” And my mom was like “WHAT?” -- all confused. Then he was silent for a few seconds, and then repeated himself: “Hi. I have a phone.” Her impersonation of Boris was awesome. I cannot imagine how he was finally able to convey this confusing situation to her, but somehow she was able to get his home phone number and gave it to me.
So this morning I went to a pay phone and called the home phone number and my own cell phone number, but no answer. I got to work and tried calling a few more times; no answer. I tried again — this time when I called my cell phone, somebody answered but didn’t say anything and just hung up. I called right back and the same thing happened. I wanted to say “Boris! Is that you?! I know you’re there...” Finally the third time around, he answered with a tentative “Hello?”
We arranged to meet outside of Peet’s in the Ferry Building around noon. I brought my coworker with me, in case he was a criminal with some warped plan to coax me into a deserted alley. When we arrived at Peet’s, I kept staring at random men who might look like a “Boris.” In college I knew a guy named Dimitri, so basically I was looking for somebody that looked just like Dimitri. Finally I saw a guy leaning against the wall across from Peet’s. He was slightly overweight, wearing jeans and a jean jacket (or jean vest? Can’t remember...I just remember there was a lot of faded denim going on). I think he was also wearing a khaki-colored hat. Not really what I expected. “Are you Boris?” I said. He was very kind and handed the phone over to me. I offered him $20 and he took it hesitantly. “You don’t have to do this,” he said a couple times. I have to admit, even though I was grateful to him for not stealing my phone, I was also very cautious and felt a little weird about it all. Anyway, all this to say that I guess there really are honest people out there in the world, and I’m grateful that I got my phone back.
For Lent this year, my roomie NH and I want to try praying the examen every night. This is a practice that our church did over the summer for forty days, and which I am (supposedly) doing every night while on my thirty-week Ignatian retreat. I say "supposedly" because I don't actually pray the examen every night, even though it's only supposed to take 5 minutes or so. What can I say, sometimes I just feel like falling asleep while watching hulu.com or reading a book (that is not the Bible or some other Christian literature).
But at least for Lent I'm going to try to be more consistent about it. And to aid in that process, I put together a little examen journal last night and gave one to each of my roomies for us to use. Here's the cover, which is meant to be folded in half, and is based (roughly) on NH's mixte:
I received this lovely handmade thank you card from Kimmy last night. She used paper that she had made from scratch, and the "THANKS" was cut out from her Lykke Li concert ticket. HOW COOL.
Kimmy and I went to see Lykke Li at the Fillmore last Sunday. It was a cold, rainy evening and Kimmy was feeling quite ill, but we still managed to make it over to the city to catch the show. We arrived and stood outside for a while with a bunch of other artsy hipsters who were standing around languidly, smoking their cigarettes. They were wearing really funky clothes — lots of fedora hats, skinny pants, and leather. A lot of hawks too (both mo and faux).
We missed the opening act, and it wasn't long until Lykke appeared on the stage, in a cloud of smoke. It was all very dramatic and rock star-like. Indeed, she is quite the rock star — I don't mean she has attained that status, I mean she carries herself like one. She's a pretty talented performer, very charismatic, knows how to move and contort her body in weird shapes and angles.
She says weird things too. There were these two gay guys who were standing right in front of me and Kimmy and they were definitely high. They were having a GREAT time. Every time Lykke said something to the audience, they would squeal with delight and look at each other like they couldn't believe it. At one point, one of them yelled "YOU ARE A GODDESS!" Later on during the show, Lykke said "I'm so happy to be performing for all of my babies." I guess she was referring to us, like we were her babies? (Note: Lykke Li was born in 1986.) The guy who called Lykke a goddess turned to his partner and said, with a look of complete incredulity and glee, "Did she just call us her babies?! Oh my God... I love her!!!!" I almost wished I were high, too.
Overall it was a fun show: the music was catchy, upbeat, and danceable; Lykke was entertaining; the people in the audience were dressed in what I can only describe as modern art, which is always fun to look at; the venue was nice; and I was with enjoyable company. Overall a positive experience. But although lots of talented musicians have come out of Sweden (Jose Gonzalez, Sally Shapiro, Peter Bjorn & John, among others), I still maintain that those Swedes can be a little weird. I guess that is part of their charming appeal, kind of like how some of the furniture at Ikea is a little weird.
Here's a little Blogotheque video filmed last year in SF, by the talented Nate Chan:
Kimmy made a flannel shirt the other day and it is hottttt. It only took her a million hours of intense labor to make! Seriously though, I never realized how much work goes into making garments, even basic ones. Maybe one day I will learn how to make something wearable, although the last time I tried, I failed miserably (I was at home over winter break and my mom was all excited to teach me how to crochet a scarf. But when my big clumsy fingers kept doing the wrong thing, she got frustrated and said "OK. Stop. Just stop." So I guess that mother-daughter bonding lasted all of 2 minutes. And I never did learn how to crochet..)
Anyway, Kimmy makes other cool stuff too, like wallets, fanny packs, and camera cases. Check out her etsy shop!
My roomies and I have been devising up craft projects for our biweekly (or monthly?) craft nights, which are hosted at our cozy little apartment. So far we've only had one craft night, and the project was to make "thank you" gifts for our friends who helped us move back in December. We decided to bake cookies and present them in little handmade gift boxes.
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