A funny thing happens when you're the mom of a toddler who also works...time seems to literally just fly away. All of a sudden its January (which means a new fresh calendar; who doesn't love a new calendar smell, am I right?) and then all of a sudden, you look at the bottom of your professional email and wonder, "if a client clicked my blog link, what would they see"...so I clicked the link and do you know what I saw?! I saw that I haven't updated this thing since, er, December!
You know what's awful, until tonight, April 8th at 9pm, I hadn't even realized I still had a blog! I get so wrapped up in work and projects and Lil' Dude and our house, and the weather (the sun has made an appearance today AND the windows have been open and we aren't freezing...HELLO SPRING!) that I forget to write stuff.
I mean, let's be serious for a second, this blog isn't a serious conversation maker (or wait...is it?! Have I been in the dark and all my followers have been anxiously awaiting my next post, all the while I'm too concerned with the frickin' snow?!) Oh man, if I just described you, Soooooo sorry! Didn't mean to keep you waiting for like, five months.
Ok, so what's new over here, let's start there. Well...I've been knocking out a bunch of projects thus far this year...working on three kitchens and a basement remodel right now, Lil' Dude and I have been visiting their progress on a weekly basis; clearly he's made friends with all of the installers. (Last week while the bamboo flooring was being installed in one of my projects, he picked up a broom and got to work making a pile of dust for the guys!) One of the kitchens will be done in the next few weeks, so I will share photos soon!!
I'm also super excited that in less than a week, my business partner and I have signed two super awesome projects which are going to be amazing! Actually, because of all the projects, I've had to reinstall AutoCAD on my laptop (looooong story, but when I got my laptop back in September, we installed it, but then it uninstalled, so I had to call and have them reinstall it...) AND NOW, just last night, yes, April 7th, AutoCAD was officially reinstalled on my laptop (after uninstalling Windows 8...whatEVER Microsoft!) UUUUUGH, its been so frustrating, I'm really thankful The Hubs is a computer guru and knows how to fix stuff, because I was ready to just throw the laptop out (which clearly would have solved my problem, right?!)
Oooh, I also just finished a wonderful book by my FAV author, Sophie Kinsella!! The book was called Wedding Night, it was a lot thicker than her other books, so I was nervous at first- I mean, there aren't ANY photos in her books...(just sayin') but true-to-form, her story was fabulous and before I knew it I breezed through the 1,000 pages. (No, it wasn't that long- but for real, hold it up next to another book, looks like Moby Dick!)
Pretty sure that's all for now :)
e
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
What do you want to be when you grow up?
If I were to walk into a classroom and ask the students what they want to be when they grow up, most would say some of the typical things:
- Lawyer
- Doctor
- Vet
(Because we all know those are things that will "make your parents proud" and occupations that will "make you happy". Right?)
Well, picture me sitting in third grade. My family and I have just moved to South Florida from New York and I knew immediately what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was never one of those kids who wanted to be a journalist one day and astronaut the next (I don't like to write all the time- as evident in my *almost* once monthly post here...and I don't really "do" science.)
Nah, I knew from the first time I came with my parents house hunting that I was going to design interiors. I just knew. I loved going to friends homes who had two stories because I loved imagining their staircase decorated for Christmas. Did their mom and dad hang lights? Garland? Did they have bows, berries or maybe beads? And when it came to Halloween...the real trick I received when people opened their doors was getting a glimpse into their homes. (If I was kidding about that statement, it would be less weird...but I was totally that kid.)
One of my favorite "Designer in the Making" moments was at my BFF, Jenni's house. Her parents and mine had the same floor plan so I was familiar with how the space could function. I was one of five people who lived in our house, Jenni was an only child. Our house constantly had people in it, thus leaving very little "extra" room, where Jen's (we're in our 30 now...the "i" has been dropped!) house always had more elbow room. Because of this (and that our houses were five doors down from each other) we spent uh-LOT of time at her house. Her mom had a pure white living room. Let me say this again s-l-o-w-e-r for you. a PURE. WHITE. LIVING. ROOM. White carpets, white walls (most of the walls in her house were white actually) and white furniture. I mean, WHITE.
So here's me. Already knowing that I was going to be a designer, I came up to Jen's mom while she was sitting at the kitchen table and had a very stern look on my face.
me: Mrs.W, we need to talk
H: Of course, what about?
me: Your house.
H: Hu?
me: Its lacking color.
H: Hu?
me: For example, your living room. I just want to take a gallon of paint, in ANY shade and throw it against your walls to add a, literal, splash of color.
H: Really.
me: Oh, yes.
H: I'll talk to Mr.W.
I don't know if she ever talked to Mr.W about this, she probably got up from the table and called my mom to have one of those talks..."Erin suggested I throw paint on my walls. If she pulls out the finger paints...next sleep over is NOT here." My point here with this lil' antidote is that I've always just known what a space needs/wants. Its like rooms talk to me (except not in a she-needs-to-be-admitted kind of way)
Fast forward to today. I show up at a client's home to decorate for Christmas (yay!) and after I pass the guard dog (who only woke up once I was settled and put my keys on the kitchen table) I look into the family room. For as long as I've been working with this client, I have noticed that the family room has a severe deficit in the function category. A few meetings ago, I casually brought up to her the space, asking questions like, "can you really see the tv well while its all the way over theeeeeere and the couch is all the way over hereeeee?"
So today was the day. I took another sip of my Dunkin (because who doesn't drink Dunkin...am I right?) and I moved all the Christmas boxes out of my way. (Again, let me point out the whole purpose of me being there today was to setup the stuff that was IN those boxes...) I rolled up the rugs and pushed those couches into a proper placement. (In the moving process I might have cut my finger on a screw...I might need to file a workers comp claim!)
Once I had all the large pieces in their proper place, it was time to start my decorating...and decorate I did.
I know you might be asking for pictures of the space...and I have some, but I'm not writing this from my phone (because why punish my thumbs like that?) so I'll see what I can do about uploading 'em...in the meantime, that's the new festive fireplace!
Knowing what I've wanted to be my whole life has given me the opportunity to be comfortable in my decisions and help clients ease into the idea of spending a lot of money. I cannot express in words how thankful I am that when I told my son this morning that mama had to go to work, I got to go and PLAY all morning...and then when my client came home, receive one of the most warm, wonderful and awesome phone calls!
I never take for granted that what I do is a luxury item for my clients. I am truly grateful that my passion is my work!
- Lawyer
- Doctor
- Vet
(Because we all know those are things that will "make your parents proud" and occupations that will "make you happy". Right?)
Well, picture me sitting in third grade. My family and I have just moved to South Florida from New York and I knew immediately what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was never one of those kids who wanted to be a journalist one day and astronaut the next (I don't like to write all the time- as evident in my *almost* once monthly post here...and I don't really "do" science.)
Nah, I knew from the first time I came with my parents house hunting that I was going to design interiors. I just knew. I loved going to friends homes who had two stories because I loved imagining their staircase decorated for Christmas. Did their mom and dad hang lights? Garland? Did they have bows, berries or maybe beads? And when it came to Halloween...the real trick I received when people opened their doors was getting a glimpse into their homes. (If I was kidding about that statement, it would be less weird...but I was totally that kid.)
One of my favorite "Designer in the Making" moments was at my BFF, Jenni's house. Her parents and mine had the same floor plan so I was familiar with how the space could function. I was one of five people who lived in our house, Jenni was an only child. Our house constantly had people in it, thus leaving very little "extra" room, where Jen's (we're in our 30 now...the "i" has been dropped!) house always had more elbow room. Because of this (and that our houses were five doors down from each other) we spent uh-LOT of time at her house. Her mom had a pure white living room. Let me say this again s-l-o-w-e-r for you. a PURE. WHITE. LIVING. ROOM. White carpets, white walls (most of the walls in her house were white actually) and white furniture. I mean, WHITE.
So here's me. Already knowing that I was going to be a designer, I came up to Jen's mom while she was sitting at the kitchen table and had a very stern look on my face.
me: Mrs.W, we need to talk
H: Of course, what about?
me: Your house.
H: Hu?
me: Its lacking color.
H: Hu?
me: For example, your living room. I just want to take a gallon of paint, in ANY shade and throw it against your walls to add a, literal, splash of color.
H: Really.
me: Oh, yes.
H: I'll talk to Mr.W.
I don't know if she ever talked to Mr.W about this, she probably got up from the table and called my mom to have one of those talks..."Erin suggested I throw paint on my walls. If she pulls out the finger paints...next sleep over is NOT here." My point here with this lil' antidote is that I've always just known what a space needs/wants. Its like rooms talk to me (except not in a she-needs-to-be-admitted kind of way)
Fast forward to today. I show up at a client's home to decorate for Christmas (yay!) and after I pass the guard dog (who only woke up once I was settled and put my keys on the kitchen table) I look into the family room. For as long as I've been working with this client, I have noticed that the family room has a severe deficit in the function category. A few meetings ago, I casually brought up to her the space, asking questions like, "can you really see the tv well while its all the way over theeeeeere and the couch is all the way over hereeeee?"
So today was the day. I took another sip of my Dunkin (because who doesn't drink Dunkin...am I right?) and I moved all the Christmas boxes out of my way. (Again, let me point out the whole purpose of me being there today was to setup the stuff that was IN those boxes...) I rolled up the rugs and pushed those couches into a proper placement. (In the moving process I might have cut my finger on a screw...I might need to file a workers comp claim!)
Once I had all the large pieces in their proper place, it was time to start my decorating...and decorate I did.
I know you might be asking for pictures of the space...and I have some, but I'm not writing this from my phone (because why punish my thumbs like that?) so I'll see what I can do about uploading 'em...in the meantime, that's the new festive fireplace!
Knowing what I've wanted to be my whole life has given me the opportunity to be comfortable in my decisions and help clients ease into the idea of spending a lot of money. I cannot express in words how thankful I am that when I told my son this morning that mama had to go to work, I got to go and PLAY all morning...and then when my client came home, receive one of the most warm, wonderful and awesome phone calls!
I never take for granted that what I do is a luxury item for my clients. I am truly grateful that my passion is my work!
Friday, November 15, 2013
If you give a designer a paint brush...
Ever read the book "If you give a mouse a cookie"?
If you haven't read this book (which, if you haven't, what kind of childhood did you have? Seriously...this is a MUST read!) here's a quick rundown: if you give him a cookie, he will ask for milk...which means he will need a napkin and it just keeps snowballing from there...
Several years ago, I painted our half bath navy blue. 
Our trim is pure white (which was another project I did several years ago. Took two weeks out of my life and did, what I called "Operation Honey to White"...where everything in the house which was honey oak, became white. I ended up getting bronchitis from this because of all the fumes- but whatever, our house looked HAWT!) and one wall in our half bath didn't have a straight cut-in against the baseboard. This might not bother some people...but for me, every time I went into that bathroom (I work from home, so do the math how many visits I make in a day) I'd look at the baseboard and scowl. Yesterday, as Lil' Dude went down for his nap, I went to the bathroom and I decided. Today. Was. The. FREAKIN DAY! (Now you might be getting all, "Erin, what the heck took you so long?" All I'm gonna say, I. Had. A. Baby. I've been busy with other things...like keeping a little person alive, and happy...and guess what else? The Hubs likes to eat. Dinner. Every night. So yeah...a few years slipped by...)
I grabbed my bitty paint brush (the one with no handle...which fits perfectly into my hand and makes me happy!) and went to town on the baseboards. Then I couldn't stop...so I touched up the boards in the foyer, which led to the kitchen...then I decided it was time to stop with the downstairs and move upstairs (just in case he woke up super quick) so I did...and it was good.
Baseboards in the master bathroom, the door frame into our bathroom, the door frame into the master bedroom...and then, the cherry on top. As I was walking down the stairs, I realized the banister could use a fresh coat!
As I was washing my paint brush, I realized I was that mouse. I was the mouse, who needed a cookie (in this case a paint brush) and then a cup of milk (pint of white paint) and a napkin to wipe my milk mustache (paint splatter)...I mean REALLY?! I've always been fond of Mickey Mouse...but who knew I'd find similarities between me and a lil' mouse I read about in first grade!
Things that make you go, hu?, right?!
Monday, September 30, 2013
...wasn't the best laid plan
Last night The Hubs and I went to see Jack Johnson in concert at E.J. Thomas Hall on the University of Akron's campus. We've never been there before so I was all giddy with excitement to see it.
Concert halls overall interest me. While growing up I was always on the stage, singing, dancing, acting...you name it. Then I started doing the set designs (thankfully I had an amazing drama teach in high school who understood where my passion was) and then one day I remember standing on the stage in my high school. I was the only one in the auditorium. It was so quiet. I looked around at all the awful wooden chairs (that couldn't have been more uncomfortable...honestly, it was like sitting on a piece of plywood with a matching seat back. And they wondered why attendance was always low...just sayin')
ANYWAY, as I stood on the freshly painted black stage, I looked into the auditorium and really took it in. The way the lights were hidden from the audience. The acoustic panels that lined the walls. The carpeted aisle ways. I mean, it wasn't going to win an award for best theater design, but what it did was open my eyes to the why of design. Why did they need to use those panels on the walls? Why didn't they have carpet under the chairs, only down the aisles?
Looking back now, I can easily answer these things...but then, at the ripe ol' age of 16 I stood there and just wondered. And that started my affair with the way concert halls/auditoriums were designed.
So we walk into the hall and first thing we noticed were these GIANT silver weights hanging over our heads in one of the lobby areas. The Hubs said, "what the heck are those?" and I casually said, "suspension weights!" (Honestly, sometimes I hear the words that come out of my mouth and can't even believe I know this stuff!) So then my mind started ticking...what are they holding up? Where do those cables go to? WHY, WHY, WHYYYYYYY?? (You might be wondering, "why didn't you take a picture, Erin?" Ohhh, that's simple. Because I forgot!)
Then we walked up about 10 steps to our door. Once inside the door, there were three rows in front of us. One row that you needed to take a step up to get to. One row that was level with the doorway. And one row that was a step down. We were on the stepped down row. So we meander to our seats, 34 & 35. Which, lucky for us, was almost center stage (woot!) bad part was that there were no aisles. Meaning, once we walked down that step, you had to walk in front of each chair to get to your chair. Each row of seats ran the width of the auditorium- about 60 seats.
We amble past the 33 other seats and make our way into our chairs. I notice right off the bat that they are comfy and how much leg room we had...and then it occurred to me WHY we have so much leg room. Because people will be walking past us. Possibly stepping on our toes (depending upon how many drinks they've had...) but definitely making us bend our legs awkwardly to the side and sucking in our breath (because that helps?!) as someone passes us.
Almost immediately as I sit down, I realize I'm trapped. And what happens next? The URGENT need to pee. (Prior to feeling trapped, the bladder and I were cool. I look around and realize there's no way out,all of a sudden- its a water balloon ready to explode. Damn!) Thankfully the opening band was awesome, for the life of me I couldn't understand what the name of it was...but it was a guy with a guitar, a drummer and two lady singers. One song he sung was called Hockey Teeth- referring to a girl he dated who had huge front teeth. (Awww.)
When his set was over, the house lights rose and The Hubs and I read each others minds, got up and walked to the restroom. Nooooooooow, let me preface this with this:
This is NOT my first time going to a major event (concert, sporting event, any place with lots of people). I understand there will be longer lines for the ladies room then for the men's room. I GET THAT.
However, there was ONE entrance to the restroom. ONE. You know what this has in common with that boy band, One Direction? The word ONE. Singular. Uno. Almost nada.
The Hubs and I decide, since taking one look at the cluster f*&^ line to the restroom, that he would be done before I would be. He would probably have enough time to knit a sweater for me too while I'm on my expedition. I make my way to the top of the steps and look down the U-Shaped staircase at a mob of smartly dressed, overly tanned (its the end of September, in Ohio- I'm sure their tans are natural. Cough), carrying-too-large-a-purse-for-a-concert women and I just want to weep.
I know I'm a girl. I know this kinda thing should be second nature to me at this point. But here's the thing. I purposefully left the house last night (as I do most nights when we go out) without my purse. I hand my ID to The Hubs, put my strawberry Chap Stick in my pocket and I'm good. I don't feel the need/urge/desire to lug a purse with me. So, as we are standing like cattle being lead to slaughter, I'm being poked in the back by a big purse, but I can't take a step in front of me, or else I'll be stabbed with a Coach purse being worn on the shoulder of a woman who must not have a nose that works because GOOD LORD, its like she went threw a car wash of perfume. It was just awwwwwwwful. (Yes, I'm totally complaining. In situations like this, I would prefer to be a man. Go in, pee, wash my hands, leave. Simple.)
Ok, I'm going to stop complaining for a second because here is my point. This was a BAD DESIGN CHOICE. I immediately tune into my designer frequency in my head and start a list. It went something like this:
- Only one bathroom? Really?
- You locate the bathroom in the basement, so you have to take the stairs to it. Most women wear high heels when getting dressed up. Couldn't this pose a problem for some? (I wore my new Nike's...gotta break 'em in good, right?)
- The carpeting that was chosen to line the many staircases was dark purple (which, dark colors show EVERYTHING that lands on them). The cleaning crew either needs a vacuum with more sucking power, or they need to replace the carpeting. It looked like a large, fuzzy cat that never gets brushed lives on each stair.
Now, let's talk about safety for a second. At the end of the concert (which was totally fab, by the way!) we stand up to leave. As we are waiting to walk up that one step and out the door, I realize something. Each side of the rows has one door that feeds three rows of seats. There's about 60 seats in each row...split that in half, 30 seats. 30 x 3= 90. So about 90 people, at one time, are trying to leave out of the SAME DOOR. Do you see where, if there was a fire or some other accident that this would cause major panic? 89 other people trying to fit through a 36" wide opening, and then fighting your way down the stairs, to an exterior exit. As I'm thinking of this, I start getting a little frantic (only in my mind of course. I didn't start hyperventilating or asking for a paper bag to breathe through...) but doesn't this seem like it wasn't the best laid plan?
And on top of that, there are no other exits. Meaning, there are no center aisles for people to move through. You sit on that middle balcony section and your trapped. The only exits are those six doors (there might have been more, math has never been my strong suit)...or you could always jump down?
Bottom line, my brain never turns off. This is a bad thing at times...like when we are trying to leave the concert hall and I'm planning my emergency exit route. I know everyplace I go to won't be perfect. I'm not asking for perfection. I'm just asking for more common sense? One bathroom just seems dense to me. Knowing that people are only getting taller and not having an aisle to move through- but instead asking Lurch to slide his legs over, doesn't seem like a great way to make new friends.
So, while I ended up finding out that the suspension cables are used to move the ceiling grid in the concert hall to accommodate the acoustics of the performance...I wasn't really impressed.
(Man, should I start writing an opinion column for a newspaper?? Wait, they still print newspapers, right?)
Concert halls overall interest me. While growing up I was always on the stage, singing, dancing, acting...you name it. Then I started doing the set designs (thankfully I had an amazing drama teach in high school who understood where my passion was) and then one day I remember standing on the stage in my high school. I was the only one in the auditorium. It was so quiet. I looked around at all the awful wooden chairs (that couldn't have been more uncomfortable...honestly, it was like sitting on a piece of plywood with a matching seat back. And they wondered why attendance was always low...just sayin')
ANYWAY, as I stood on the freshly painted black stage, I looked into the auditorium and really took it in. The way the lights were hidden from the audience. The acoustic panels that lined the walls. The carpeted aisle ways. I mean, it wasn't going to win an award for best theater design, but what it did was open my eyes to the why of design. Why did they need to use those panels on the walls? Why didn't they have carpet under the chairs, only down the aisles?
Looking back now, I can easily answer these things...but then, at the ripe ol' age of 16 I stood there and just wondered. And that started my affair with the way concert halls/auditoriums were designed.
So we walk into the hall and first thing we noticed were these GIANT silver weights hanging over our heads in one of the lobby areas. The Hubs said, "what the heck are those?" and I casually said, "suspension weights!" (Honestly, sometimes I hear the words that come out of my mouth and can't even believe I know this stuff!) So then my mind started ticking...what are they holding up? Where do those cables go to? WHY, WHY, WHYYYYYYY?? (You might be wondering, "why didn't you take a picture, Erin?" Ohhh, that's simple. Because I forgot!)
Then we walked up about 10 steps to our door. Once inside the door, there were three rows in front of us. One row that you needed to take a step up to get to. One row that was level with the doorway. And one row that was a step down. We were on the stepped down row. So we meander to our seats, 34 & 35. Which, lucky for us, was almost center stage (woot!) bad part was that there were no aisles. Meaning, once we walked down that step, you had to walk in front of each chair to get to your chair. Each row of seats ran the width of the auditorium- about 60 seats.
We amble past the 33 other seats and make our way into our chairs. I notice right off the bat that they are comfy and how much leg room we had...and then it occurred to me WHY we have so much leg room. Because people will be walking past us. Possibly stepping on our toes (depending upon how many drinks they've had...) but definitely making us bend our legs awkwardly to the side and sucking in our breath (because that helps?!) as someone passes us.
Almost immediately as I sit down, I realize I'm trapped. And what happens next? The URGENT need to pee. (Prior to feeling trapped, the bladder and I were cool. I look around and realize there's no way out,all of a sudden- its a water balloon ready to explode. Damn!) Thankfully the opening band was awesome, for the life of me I couldn't understand what the name of it was...but it was a guy with a guitar, a drummer and two lady singers. One song he sung was called Hockey Teeth- referring to a girl he dated who had huge front teeth. (Awww.)
When his set was over, the house lights rose and The Hubs and I read each others minds, got up and walked to the restroom. Nooooooooow, let me preface this with this:
This is NOT my first time going to a major event (concert, sporting event, any place with lots of people). I understand there will be longer lines for the ladies room then for the men's room. I GET THAT.
However, there was ONE entrance to the restroom. ONE. You know what this has in common with that boy band, One Direction? The word ONE. Singular. Uno. Almost nada.
The Hubs and I decide, since taking one look at the cluster f*&^ line to the restroom, that he would be done before I would be. He would probably have enough time to knit a sweater for me too while I'm on my expedition. I make my way to the top of the steps and look down the U-Shaped staircase at a mob of smartly dressed, overly tanned (its the end of September, in Ohio- I'm sure their tans are natural. Cough), carrying-too-large-a-purse-for-a-concert women and I just want to weep.
I know I'm a girl. I know this kinda thing should be second nature to me at this point. But here's the thing. I purposefully left the house last night (as I do most nights when we go out) without my purse. I hand my ID to The Hubs, put my strawberry Chap Stick in my pocket and I'm good. I don't feel the need/urge/desire to lug a purse with me. So, as we are standing like cattle being lead to slaughter, I'm being poked in the back by a big purse, but I can't take a step in front of me, or else I'll be stabbed with a Coach purse being worn on the shoulder of a woman who must not have a nose that works because GOOD LORD, its like she went threw a car wash of perfume. It was just awwwwwwwful. (Yes, I'm totally complaining. In situations like this, I would prefer to be a man. Go in, pee, wash my hands, leave. Simple.)
Ok, I'm going to stop complaining for a second because here is my point. This was a BAD DESIGN CHOICE. I immediately tune into my designer frequency in my head and start a list. It went something like this:
- Only one bathroom? Really?
- You locate the bathroom in the basement, so you have to take the stairs to it. Most women wear high heels when getting dressed up. Couldn't this pose a problem for some? (I wore my new Nike's...gotta break 'em in good, right?)
- The carpeting that was chosen to line the many staircases was dark purple (which, dark colors show EVERYTHING that lands on them). The cleaning crew either needs a vacuum with more sucking power, or they need to replace the carpeting. It looked like a large, fuzzy cat that never gets brushed lives on each stair.
Now, let's talk about safety for a second. At the end of the concert (which was totally fab, by the way!) we stand up to leave. As we are waiting to walk up that one step and out the door, I realize something. Each side of the rows has one door that feeds three rows of seats. There's about 60 seats in each row...split that in half, 30 seats. 30 x 3= 90. So about 90 people, at one time, are trying to leave out of the SAME DOOR. Do you see where, if there was a fire or some other accident that this would cause major panic? 89 other people trying to fit through a 36" wide opening, and then fighting your way down the stairs, to an exterior exit. As I'm thinking of this, I start getting a little frantic (only in my mind of course. I didn't start hyperventilating or asking for a paper bag to breathe through...) but doesn't this seem like it wasn't the best laid plan?
And on top of that, there are no other exits. Meaning, there are no center aisles for people to move through. You sit on that middle balcony section and your trapped. The only exits are those six doors (there might have been more, math has never been my strong suit)...or you could always jump down?
Bottom line, my brain never turns off. This is a bad thing at times...like when we are trying to leave the concert hall and I'm planning my emergency exit route. I know everyplace I go to won't be perfect. I'm not asking for perfection. I'm just asking for more common sense? One bathroom just seems dense to me. Knowing that people are only getting taller and not having an aisle to move through- but instead asking Lurch to slide his legs over, doesn't seem like a great way to make new friends.
So, while I ended up finding out that the suspension cables are used to move the ceiling grid in the concert hall to accommodate the acoustics of the performance...I wasn't really impressed.
(Man, should I start writing an opinion column for a newspaper?? Wait, they still print newspapers, right?)
Friday, September 20, 2013
Perk-olating
There are a lot of perks of being my own boss. For instance, if I don't want to wear makeup one day, I don't have to (unless, of course I have a meeting. In which case, I grab the concealer and mascara...a girl has to keep her dignity...)
Here are some of the perks I anticipated when I started my own gig several years ago:
- Wearing my pjs while talking to people
- Wearing my pjs while answering emails
- Wearing my pjs while making paint selections
- Driving with the windows down all the time, because I wouldn't have to worry about my hair because I'd being working from home...and who was gonna say something?
- Not having to wear makeup
- If I didn't want to check an email until noon, I didn't have to worry about that
- I wouldn't have to worry about being nice to "that" person in the office...
- Wearing my pjs while brushing my teeth at noon while checking my email (no, I'm kidding about this one. I'm up and showered pretty early...)
My point for the above list is that I knew I was going to be working hard. I knew I would bust my butt, but I also anticipated doing most of the "busting" in my pjs (after all, that's a major perk of working from home, right?) Well, over the past few years I've learned a little something about those pjs. The day you decide its okay to stay in them past the 8 o'clock news, you're screwed. A client will call and need you at the job site NOW or something will happen and you need to leave the house five minutes ago...I've learned that you just wake up when the alarm goes off on the other side of the room and take the shower and stumble around the bathroom, hoping to not poke out your eye with the mascara wand.
One of the best perks I never thought of was vacations. Case in point, back in April we decide to take a cruise with some of our college friends for a week. At most jobs, you get a week off all year, so I start putting this together in my head, I'll let all my contractors and clients know, I will be gone for a week.
And then I realized that I was also gone for a week back in June when I was running the summer camp program for the SPCA. (So, if I worked for an office, and asked for another week off, they'd look at me like I was a nut-bag)...And then I thought back a little further to that week vacation we took back in February...
I start adding all these dates up and realize, if I weren't my own boss....I might think I was a slacker. (Until I'm laying in front of my computer at midnight working on a proposal...or coordinating selections with an empty stomach because the meeting was only supposed to take an hour and five hours later...)
Imagine my surprise while talking to my family about our upcoming cruise and my dad says he just booked a three bedroom suite at one of our favorite Disney hotels. Uhm....
This is when I realized the BIGGEST perk of being my own boss. I made the executive decision that it was more cost effective and more heart effective (meaning, it would do my heart good) to just stay in Florida after our week cruise to spend more time with my family and then go to Disney.
I mean, I was thinking of the environment too. Why waste all that gas and exert all that energy flying me and Lil' Man allllllllll the way back to Cleveland, just to shoot us back down to Florida the week after? So, I did something I've never done before, I packed the giant suitcase and Lil' Man and I piggy backed our vacations.
We did the week long cruise to the Caribbean with our college friends, then spent the most wonderful quality time with my dad and got to watch Lil' Man enjoy the company of his Pop Pop, then got to spend time with my sister, brother and both of their families. Was this the most selfish vacation ever? Probably. But when I think of the fact that I was able to watch my son and dad bond, I wouldn't trade that for any amount of company stock available.
Would I have traded watching my son and his big cousins going down the slide over (and over, and over and over) to sit in a chair and look at a computer screen? No way, Jose.
And I'm beyond thankful for this gift that was given to me. To us. To my family.I'm so blessed to have a husband who doesn't resent that I played for an extra week, while he went to work each day. To have a son who, although his naptime and bedtime was disrupted for two weeks only broke down once....
So, while the working in the pjs is a huge perk, the biggest perk I've found so far is being able to keep my family front and center. Right where they should be. And where they will be forever :)
Here are some of the perks I anticipated when I started my own gig several years ago:
- Wearing my pjs while talking to people
- Wearing my pjs while answering emails
- Wearing my pjs while making paint selections
- Driving with the windows down all the time, because I wouldn't have to worry about my hair because I'd being working from home...and who was gonna say something?
- Not having to wear makeup
- If I didn't want to check an email until noon, I didn't have to worry about that
- I wouldn't have to worry about being nice to "that" person in the office...
- Wearing my pjs while brushing my teeth at noon while checking my email (no, I'm kidding about this one. I'm up and showered pretty early...)
My point for the above list is that I knew I was going to be working hard. I knew I would bust my butt, but I also anticipated doing most of the "busting" in my pjs (after all, that's a major perk of working from home, right?) Well, over the past few years I've learned a little something about those pjs. The day you decide its okay to stay in them past the 8 o'clock news, you're screwed. A client will call and need you at the job site NOW or something will happen and you need to leave the house five minutes ago...I've learned that you just wake up when the alarm goes off on the other side of the room and take the shower and stumble around the bathroom, hoping to not poke out your eye with the mascara wand.
One of the best perks I never thought of was vacations. Case in point, back in April we decide to take a cruise with some of our college friends for a week. At most jobs, you get a week off all year, so I start putting this together in my head, I'll let all my contractors and clients know, I will be gone for a week.
And then I realized that I was also gone for a week back in June when I was running the summer camp program for the SPCA. (So, if I worked for an office, and asked for another week off, they'd look at me like I was a nut-bag)...And then I thought back a little further to that week vacation we took back in February...
I start adding all these dates up and realize, if I weren't my own boss....I might think I was a slacker. (Until I'm laying in front of my computer at midnight working on a proposal...or coordinating selections with an empty stomach because the meeting was only supposed to take an hour and five hours later...)
Imagine my surprise while talking to my family about our upcoming cruise and my dad says he just booked a three bedroom suite at one of our favorite Disney hotels. Uhm....
This is when I realized the BIGGEST perk of being my own boss. I made the executive decision that it was more cost effective and more heart effective (meaning, it would do my heart good) to just stay in Florida after our week cruise to spend more time with my family and then go to Disney.
I mean, I was thinking of the environment too. Why waste all that gas and exert all that energy flying me and Lil' Man allllllllll the way back to Cleveland, just to shoot us back down to Florida the week after? So, I did something I've never done before, I packed the giant suitcase and Lil' Man and I piggy backed our vacations.
We did the week long cruise to the Caribbean with our college friends, then spent the most wonderful quality time with my dad and got to watch Lil' Man enjoy the company of his Pop Pop, then got to spend time with my sister, brother and both of their families. Was this the most selfish vacation ever? Probably. But when I think of the fact that I was able to watch my son and dad bond, I wouldn't trade that for any amount of company stock available.
Would I have traded watching my son and his big cousins going down the slide over (and over, and over and over) to sit in a chair and look at a computer screen? No way, Jose.
And I'm beyond thankful for this gift that was given to me. To us. To my family.I'm so blessed to have a husband who doesn't resent that I played for an extra week, while he went to work each day. To have a son who, although his naptime and bedtime was disrupted for two weeks only broke down once....
So, while the working in the pjs is a huge perk, the biggest perk I've found so far is being able to keep my family front and center. Right where they should be. And where they will be forever :)
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Blank
Sometimes I will sit by myself and have nothing on my mind. Literally, nothing. I call these my 'blank' moments because my mind is literally, blank.
Now, when these moments happen to me, I'm amazed (as would be anyone who knows me) because I'm never sitting still. I don't believe in waiting for things to happen, I don't believe in just being. I believe in moving, shaking, doing SOMETHING. Even if its walking around with the duster (because everyone's house can be dusted again...am I right?)
So, just now I finished up a layout for a friend's house, Lil' Dude is asleep, the hubs is busy and I'm sitting here and I realize. My mind is blank. Like, I just opened a Microsoft Word document, blank.
What makes me giggle about this most is that if someone gave me a blank room to work in, my mind would start going a million miles an hour. I'd have wall colors and lamps and decor and stuff. But when I wake up, before the tv is on or the computer is open, I'm able to appreciate my 'blank' moments best.
Because once the day starts and the noise begins, it seems it doesn't end at times. The microwave is beeping because the milk is heated up, the computer bings to let me know I have a new email, the car makes a new noise (new because the car itself is new...therefore I have no idea what any of the lights or "helpful" indicators actually mean)...it doesn't end. Until I have a blank moment.
That little bit of time where I can have a clear head, put things back into perspective, count my blessings (which I already do like a thousand-gillion times a day...one more time wouldn't hurt!) regroup and then, open the microwave, pull out the milk, check the email and read what that light means in the manual...
Now, when these moments happen to me, I'm amazed (as would be anyone who knows me) because I'm never sitting still. I don't believe in waiting for things to happen, I don't believe in just being. I believe in moving, shaking, doing SOMETHING. Even if its walking around with the duster (because everyone's house can be dusted again...am I right?)
So, just now I finished up a layout for a friend's house, Lil' Dude is asleep, the hubs is busy and I'm sitting here and I realize. My mind is blank. Like, I just opened a Microsoft Word document, blank.
What makes me giggle about this most is that if someone gave me a blank room to work in, my mind would start going a million miles an hour. I'd have wall colors and lamps and decor and stuff. But when I wake up, before the tv is on or the computer is open, I'm able to appreciate my 'blank' moments best.
Because once the day starts and the noise begins, it seems it doesn't end at times. The microwave is beeping because the milk is heated up, the computer bings to let me know I have a new email, the car makes a new noise (new because the car itself is new...therefore I have no idea what any of the lights or "helpful" indicators actually mean)...it doesn't end. Until I have a blank moment.
That little bit of time where I can have a clear head, put things back into perspective, count my blessings (which I already do like a thousand-gillion times a day...one more time wouldn't hurt!) regroup and then, open the microwave, pull out the milk, check the email and read what that light means in the manual...
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Use the China!
I grew up in a house where my siblings and I both loved and feared our parents. We knew if we needed them because we were scared of something, they'd open their arms in a heart beat and snuggle us 'til we pushed them away. We also knew that if we did something stupid, our parents would hunt us down like rabid dogs and, my favorite saying growing up, "Break our legs in six places and we'd never walk again!". (Yup, tough love.)
My parents ruled with a no-nonsense approach. If we did something bad, we'd be punished. Plain and simple. If we even thought of acting up in public, we'd be dead; just for the thought! Let alone if we actually were dumb enough to ACT on it! They taught us that hard work equals great rewards and that a home cooked meal can never be duplicated in a restaurant.
One of my favorite things they did with us while growing up was Sunday dinners in the dining room. Say Whaaaaa?? Yes, my parents actually USED the dining room more than just for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Even with three kids. Sunday night, you parked your butt in that chair and we ate with the silver (which we polished earlier in the day) on the fine China (which we had to hand clean afterwards because they couldn't go in the dishwasher...)
I received an email earlier today from my dad that read: "OK my Children….how many times have I told you this very thing. Y’all thought I was nuts for using sterling every day!"
Here's the email:
We all know someone who keeps plastic covers on his or her couch in order to protect it. The irony is that many of these people may live their lives without ever having actually made contact with their own furniture! This is a poignant and somewhat humorous example of the human tendency to try to save things for special occasions, as if everyday life weren’t special enough to warrant the use of nice things. Many of us have had the experience of never wearing a particular piece of clothing in order to keep it nice, only to have it go out of style in the meanwhile.
It’s interesting to think of what it would mean to us if we let ourselves wear our nicest clothes and eat off the good china on a daily basis. We might be sending ourselves the message that every day we are alive is a special day and a cause for celebration, and that we are worth it. There is something uplifting about treating ourselves to the finest of what we have. It is as if we rise to the occasion when we wear our best clothes and set the table beautifully, as if for a very special guest. We are more mindful of where we place things, what we are eating, and who is with us. Using the good china, eating in the dining room, and taking the plastic off the sofa might be an invitation to be more conscious of the beauty and grace inherent in our everyday lives.
If there are things you’ve stashed away for a special occasion—a bottle of special wine, a gorgeous pair of shoes, an antique lace tablecloth—consider taking them out of their hiding places and putting them to use tonight, just because you are alive now to enjoy them, and that’s a great cause for a celebration.
While I'm reading the email I can't help but laugh. I know too many people who live their lives like this. They are the "Take your shoes off at the door" people. Or the, "we have beautiful wine glasses, but we use these instead".
For our wedding we received beautiful wine goblets, four are clear crystal, four are colored (one purple- my fav! red, blue and green). For the longest time I wouldn't pull out the colored crystal because I wanted to save it. Or make it more of a special-type of glass. Well, we started using them and guess what? My favorite glass ended up having a little ding in it. At first I was totally bummed out and wanted to see about replacing the whole colored set, and then I realized, that little ding happened while among my friends. It happened while I was enjoying myself and my company and a great glass of wine. Why should I want to replace it?
My point is that we should use all the pretty things in our lives more often. Otherwise, what's the point in having them? My goblet now has history. (Even if I can't remember the details of it clearly...)
My parents ruled with a no-nonsense approach. If we did something bad, we'd be punished. Plain and simple. If we even thought of acting up in public, we'd be dead; just for the thought! Let alone if we actually were dumb enough to ACT on it! They taught us that hard work equals great rewards and that a home cooked meal can never be duplicated in a restaurant.
One of my favorite things they did with us while growing up was Sunday dinners in the dining room. Say Whaaaaa?? Yes, my parents actually USED the dining room more than just for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Even with three kids. Sunday night, you parked your butt in that chair and we ate with the silver (which we polished earlier in the day) on the fine China (which we had to hand clean afterwards because they couldn't go in the dishwasher...)
I received an email earlier today from my dad that read: "OK my Children….how many times have I told you this very thing. Y’all thought I was nuts for using sterling every day!"
Here's the email:
We all know someone who keeps plastic covers on his or her couch in order to protect it. The irony is that many of these people may live their lives without ever having actually made contact with their own furniture! This is a poignant and somewhat humorous example of the human tendency to try to save things for special occasions, as if everyday life weren’t special enough to warrant the use of nice things. Many of us have had the experience of never wearing a particular piece of clothing in order to keep it nice, only to have it go out of style in the meanwhile.
It’s interesting to think of what it would mean to us if we let ourselves wear our nicest clothes and eat off the good china on a daily basis. We might be sending ourselves the message that every day we are alive is a special day and a cause for celebration, and that we are worth it. There is something uplifting about treating ourselves to the finest of what we have. It is as if we rise to the occasion when we wear our best clothes and set the table beautifully, as if for a very special guest. We are more mindful of where we place things, what we are eating, and who is with us. Using the good china, eating in the dining room, and taking the plastic off the sofa might be an invitation to be more conscious of the beauty and grace inherent in our everyday lives.
If there are things you’ve stashed away for a special occasion—a bottle of special wine, a gorgeous pair of shoes, an antique lace tablecloth—consider taking them out of their hiding places and putting them to use tonight, just because you are alive now to enjoy them, and that’s a great cause for a celebration.
While I'm reading the email I can't help but laugh. I know too many people who live their lives like this. They are the "Take your shoes off at the door" people. Or the, "we have beautiful wine glasses, but we use these instead".
For our wedding we received beautiful wine goblets, four are clear crystal, four are colored (one purple- my fav! red, blue and green). For the longest time I wouldn't pull out the colored crystal because I wanted to save it. Or make it more of a special-type of glass. Well, we started using them and guess what? My favorite glass ended up having a little ding in it. At first I was totally bummed out and wanted to see about replacing the whole colored set, and then I realized, that little ding happened while among my friends. It happened while I was enjoying myself and my company and a great glass of wine. Why should I want to replace it?
My point is that we should use all the pretty things in our lives more often. Otherwise, what's the point in having them? My goblet now has history. (Even if I can't remember the details of it clearly...)
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