Do what you will

"Twenty years from now you'll regret the things you didn't do rather than the things you did do."

Thank you, Mark Twain (a man who called Hartford home). These are the words that propelled me to move to Seattle, a decision I debated for a long time. I had so many questions and fears about what would be if I moved across country. I've never regretted the move here. (But, I'd be outta here in a NY minute if shit hit the fan). Is that too bold? It's true! My family trumps all.

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter".

-Dr Suess

No special quotes from Dolly, I just think she's a pretty rad lady. And she looked a bit cuter in the 60s.

It is snowing. Remain calm.

It's snowing here in Seattle, a rare event. People get all worked up into a tizzy. They chain up the buses. Cars pull of the road at the sight of a flake. I guess that's because there's approximately 2 snow plows in Western Washington.

Look at this bird. He's sitting outside my office window thinking, "What the heck, I thought it was spring."

In like a lion, out like a lamb, right?

Less drinking wine, more running.

How about a dogfish then? If I had a dogfish I could still be out and about 10 or more hours per day. I don't even know if you can keep a dogfish in a home tank. So cute! It looks like a small shark. I could still go to bootcamp and I wouldn't have to worry about walking it or wonder if it's eating my kitchen cabinets.

Here's me. I am down in the trenches getting my LuLu Lemon capris all muddy. Sargent Mike turned up the heat this week. I heard a girl barf after one jumping-pushup-sprinting exercise. I haven't been physically pushed like this since field hockey in high school.
Did I mention that my boss took me and my coworker out for an early happy hour last Wednesday? It was a few hours before bootcamp. We went to Taste, a clean and modern restaurant in the Seattle Art Museum. We had just left an interview at the Port of Seattle. We were thirsty and wanting snacks. The waiter convinced me and my boss to share a half-carafe of wine, likening it to two glasses, but cheaper. All happy hour snacks were $5 and sounding pretty good. I ordered a grilled cheese and shot of tomato soup, thinking it'd be a few bites. (I ordered "bite size" burgers at dinner recently and they served me two patties the size of quarters. I laughed when the waitress set the plate down.)

The carafe seemed to never end. My 65-year old boss was pouring with a heavy hand; I wasn't exactly refusing. And the grilled cheese was adult-sized and DELICIOUS! I ate and drank it all. Cut to two hours later while running across a soccer field with a cable around my waist as Jess tried to hold me back. OMG. Never again.

Alls I know...

Right now my big ole' Leonard family (my mom's side) is playing football, drinking Jameson and eating potatoes without me. Today I did laundry, made a budget, and went for a run. Big deal. This sucks. (Although I don't miss corned beef). My friend Sean asked me to go skiing tomorrow. The budget I just made does not allow for skiing this month but I'm so bored I just might do it.

drop and give me 20

Seattle has been surprisingly sunny over the last month. In fact I think the weather's been kinder this winter than it was all summer. Summer here was grey and chilly. I imagine it's similar to Maine. How do you feel about daylight savings? I'm for it!

A dude who runs the organization Take Pride contacted me about creating a t-shirt design related to Iraqi orphans. I read interview responses from a 10-year old girl whose parents were killed in the war. I sent the guy some sketches related to the girl's outlook (hopeful) and her wishes (peace, to be a doctor, to have a talking doll). We'll see where this goes. I gotta say I am among many people who get overwhelmed by the sheer scope of war. It doesn't affect me day-to-day so it is easy to forget or turn a blind eye to the fact that it's still underway and horrific.

I have a few other projects for friends on the boards (and by that I mean I haven't started anything but they're floating around in my head and my friends are expecting something from me). One is to design Michelle's wedding invite and the other is to compete for a CD package design for Matt's band. Seems like these opportunities all crop up together. Hopefully while my boyfriend is in New Orleans this weekend I can sit down and get some ideas down.

I started boot camp this week with my friend Jess. It's held at a park near my apartment, and runs twice a week after work. We do sprinting drills, uphill running drills, walking lunges, pushup variations, and the default exercise is plank position. Man I hate the plank. But it's awesome and grueling and makes me feel tough.

I thought for a few moments that maybe I want a cat. But Dave reminded me that I actually want a dog, and am considering a cat only as an alternative (dogs= unacceptable in my building and many other buildings). I do not especially like them...but maybe I just haven't met the right one. I'd like one that doesn't scratch my stuff or make my apartment smell. I don't want a litter box so I'd have to train it to ring my apartment doorbell when it wants in. Does that breed exist?

Doritos are the shit. Just ask that pigeon over there.

Michelle is visiting from Boston. Yessss. She said she reads my blog (that makes 3 of you!) and that I've been a lazy writer. So I thought I'd drop a line.

I'm having a housewarming party tonight. Michelle loves to cook and I like to, so we're gonna make some devils on horseback (figs wrapped in bacon) and maybe some bruschetta or something. You know no party's complete without a big grab bag of Doritos and a bunch of 2 Buck Chucks.

My parents visited two weeks ago. They pretended they were on the show "While you Were Out" during the day. When I came home from work, my old wood windows were fixed, the trim was painted, and all my flowerpots matched. My mom has always been big on declaring a "theme" for rooms and apartments. She embraced the theme of "red" here.

I'll post post-party. Wish us a blow-out.