How did I get here?

An old Talking Heads song from years ago, before I "got" here - reminds me how random and unpredictable life is.

Sometimes I think I should've gone to an academic college - a sprawling college campus, where everyone lived in dorms, partied too much and "hooked up" a lot.

I missed out on that - and sometimes I regret it.

I lived in Manhattan instead, took the subway, walked a lot - everywhere, went to clubs and found cool little jobs (mechanical artist for a printer, stylist for a photographer)... I would take the bus up to Binghamton on an occasional weekend to visit my boyfriend who lived in a suite with three other guys - none of whom knew how to clean a bathroom. It was my visits that called them into action for that task (otherwise I refused to go).

I had fun on those weekends, but I was a tourist entering a world of college isolation from the world.

At FIT, I was able to experience the real world. It was scary actually. I was afraid to walk into a bar by myself, I was afraid to take the subway. Slowly I assimilated and grew to love it. The anonymity among millions... where I could walk down the street and no one could "see " me.

It always amazed me how little money I could spend. I was on the "meal plan" so that took care of that - but I literally remember spending $7.00 per day on extras. Coming from a family with not a lot of money - that was helpful. I did spend a lot of money on art supplies though - remember those?

FIT was filled with creative people. Fashion industry creatives as opposed to fine artists and bohemians. I liked being a part of that. At one point I though I could major in fashion design, but as a product of a blue collar upbringing - it just wasn't practical. I couldn't afford to be a fine artist or a struggling fashion designer, I needed to make money and be independent.

Advertising Design - then a Bachelors in Package Design - choosing that over upper level Ad design because I was more interested in the aesthetics of selling rather than the psychological aspects. Plus, I just did not like Ad people. Cut throat and nasty was how I saw them... and I'm a lover not a fighter.

So here I am - 25 years later... meandering through a handful of really great jobs that taught me about small business manufacturing, marketing, product development and design.

Finally! after all this time of wanting to step out on my own and be independent.. it happened, I happened - life happens... and I am grateful.

#notetoself

I write notes on my iphone. Notes to self... little bits of wisdom that I need to memorialize somehow because they are worth keeping. Did you ever notice that there is no command Z, or undo. I've accidentally completely deleted the most awesome thoughts I ever had - then couldn't remember them quite the same perfect way.

I'll give you a few examples of notes I've posted for myself:

Local native Breakers

I'm like a river

It's on by Broncho

If life were a song...

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with them. Should I copy the "important" ones and save it on an official document?

Am I saving them to share them later? Am I afraid of sharing?
I'm territorial about it. Yet, paradoxically - my personality is very open. Maybe I'm delusional.

The whole idea of sarinablackheart is pretty awesome. I have all these cool stories about her and her character - but I always felt that it all had to happen organically and when it was the right time I would elaborate - flesh it out. But what I am learning is that no matter how great an idea is, you can't do it all yourself, at some point you have to get other people involved.

At some point you have to open up.

The futile life of a Penguin

Penguins have such a sad life,

I don't understand it. Just watched

@CNNFilms presents March of the Penguins

and just don't understand the point

of their existence.

Yes! They are undoubtably beautiful creatures! Incredibly graceful, and equally silly and adorable - and in my favorite colors: stark black and white with accents of color. Gorgeous and beautiful.

It seems as if they live their lives walking 70 miles to and from the ocean as a routine plan for survival. It 's f-ing crazy! Why not collectively move a little closer? Why not find (or make) a cave to hang out in - knowing that the harsh winter storms will inevitably come. Why aren't they adapting and evolving in a way that makes them suffer less. Why aren't they learning?

Nature is supposed to make sense. Do they exist as food for the vultures? the bullhead seals?

What is the grand plan of creating an animal that produces an egg that can't survive without being constantly warmed by the mother (then the father, after a ridiculous transfer from one to the other before the mother risks all of their lives with her 70 mile trek back to the ocean for food)?

Why such short wings?

The only happiness they ever experience is way too brief for all this suffering. Sweet and happy they do seem in the nurturing and raising of their baby penguin. It's too cute to imagine. Yet, even this over the top happiness does not make up for their life as a whole. It still seems to be futile and meaningless.

Someone knows a happier ending to the story out there. Please tell me!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!
We're watching the news right now and it's all about #Hercules... the big winter storm.

I'm kind of excited about it mainly because I don't have to travel in it! But equally because of how beautiful it will be. I love that … the soft downy blanket of white all over the hills around our home.
You don't get that everywhere and it is really the silver lining.

I am happy that the "holidays" are over - to be sure.