Space

In the past year, as I experienced living with people with whom I was not previously good friends, I have realized just how important my living space is to me and my emotional well-being. When I first moved out of the loft I shared with Precisely, I was renting a room in a house owned by a couple I met on the internet. It was cheap, it was flexible, it was in a good neighborhood, and I figured it would be fine.

It was fine, but it also made me more unhappy than I realized or wanted to give it credit for. I missed having a space that felt like mine. I really missed entertaining and having people over. It was isolating and lonely.

Luckily, it was also temporary and didn't last for very long, and I like my current apartment very much. So much in fact, that I signed on for a full year lease, and then decided that some upgrades need to start happening because if I'm going to be staying here, I want to like it.

As much as I love traveling, as cool as I am with living out of a suitcase and sleeping in strange beds, and as much as I get a thrill from adding to my frequent flyer account, I also really like having a home base. And more importantly, for that home base to be a place I am happy to come back to. So, I've started nesting again, and it's really nice.

I started with the kitchen. My Mom, who is the best, came out for the weekend to help me, and she got everything started while I worked, and kept painting while I ran out to send emails or make phone calls,  took me out to dinner, and showed up with multiple bottles of wine. Thank you, Mom. You made what would have otherwise been a tedious long weekend for me really fun and easy. Because here's the thing about painting. I always think it's going to be a breeze, and that it will go quickly and I'll enjoy it, and then I start and within 10 minutes I'm completely over the whole thing, but I've only covered half of one wall with one coat of paint, and have to keep myself motivated for hours until it's finished and I vow to never paint again.

I digress - back to the kitchen. It turned out so well. I'm very happy with it. And having a kitchen you like is so important, isn't it? Here are some perfunctory before and after pictures.

Before: ugh. Boring white walls, fake wood cabinets making the whole room seem much darker than it actually is, there is nothing inspiring about this room.

After: So much brighter! So much better. To quote Emily Henderson, "I'm gonna cook so hard in this kitchen!"

Before: Those cabinets were the bane of my existence.

After: Paint makes everything better.

Before: Expansive, maddening, never ending white.

After: Color and artwork (courtesy of my talented best friend). Now it's a room I actually want to spend time in.

We also left the cupboards open on either side of the sink, mostly so that I can show off my collection of stemware (a girl's gotta have priorities), and I love them. I love these cupboards so much.

My mother also disapproved of my former compost collection, which was happening in an old tupperware, so we bought a new one. Problem was, we could only find jars without lids, which doesn't work, but a piece of scrap fabric, an old hair tye, and some chalk board paint later - it's the cutest compost jar ever.

I still have some plans for this room (like getting rid of the table and putting in a tall butcher block counter along the wall instead) - but it's good to have goals. Life is boring when nothing needs to be improved on. In the meantime, come over. I'll make you dinner.

Shifting Identities

It took completing two full marathons before I felt comfortable calling myself a runner. Which, is completely ridiculous since I think that anyone who runs can claim that title for themselves if they want to.

Once I embraced it though, the title of runner, I embraced it whole heartedly. And not only did I identify as a runner, but a marathon runner, and this identification was more important to my internal narrative than just calling myself a runner.

I'm registered for the Montreal marathon on September 22. That's just 8 weeks from now. And I've had to be honest with myself this week and admit that I haven't been training for it.  I started to, at the beginning of June, and it was fine. But then, I started traveling to Haiti more frequently, which I love, but which is more often than not a place where I can't run. I didn't take into account how disruptive working in the service industry is to a schedule - especially a training schedule. I just can't work until 2 am and then get up 4 or 5 hours later to run for a couple of hours before the day gets too hot.  Marathon training takes a toll on every aspect of your life for a couple of months, and I haven't been giving it that space.

I've still been running, but not training, and haven't done anything longer than 12 miles in the past 2 months.  On Thursday, the first day I was able to have time for a run since getting back from a week in Haiti, I took off determined to really step up my game, throw myself into it for the next 2 months, and be ready for Montreal. I made it 3 minutes before I had to stop and walk. Exhaustion from the trip finally caught up with me, and it wasn't just an "I'm bored" mental block, I was too physically tired to run that day. So I walked. I walked on Friday too. This morning actually, was the first run I've had in 2 weeks. And it was good, but it was only 3 miles. Not the 15 it should have been.

Running is wonderful because it's an incredibly personal exercise. Training for a marathon even more so, because you discover parts of yourself and your mind that aren't part of your day to day but that only come up when you are pushing yourself into the boundaries of your physical capabilities. It's fascinating and rare and a little addictive, which I think is one of the reasons us distance runners stick with it.

Usually having a bad run, or being this far off from my training schedule would have me feeling extremely guilty. Because that's the other thing about running. It's personal, so messing it up and doing it poorly makes you feel bad as a person. But, when I'm honest with myself, I'm not training poorly because I'm lazy or a bad person. I'm training poorly because training for a marathon isn't a top priority in my life right now.

My schedule and focus has shifted a lot since I last trained for and ran 26.2 miles, and that level of running is just not as important to me as other things going on right now. Because really, we make time for what matters most to us, no matter how hectic or crazy or unpredictable our day to day life becomes.

And that's the scariest part of all of this. Admitting that this marathon is not as high a priority for me as it used to be. Because it means that the former title of "marathon runner" that played such an important role in my self-identity, has changed. And it means that my internal narrative needs to change with it. Which, is a good thing because people are complex and constantly evolving and if my priorities were exactly the same as they were 2 years ago then that would be boring.

I'm still going to Montreal. We'll see how these next 2 months go, and if I am ready, I'll run to finish. If not, then I'll run a half-marathon in a beautiful city, with some good people, and eat poutine, and that will be fun too. Because running is still important, even if running that kind of distance has become less so.

Two

There is a scene in one of my favorite movies, The Philadelphia Story, where Katherine Hepburn's character, Tracy, is planning her wedding and her mother asks, "but what will we do with all these people if it rains?"

"Oh, it won't rain, Tracy won't stand for it." answers Tracy's younger sister.

Which is generally how I feel about the weather, especially when planning an event. On Wednesday, we threw a birthday party to celebrate Thread's 2nd anniversary of incorporation. It took place on a roof patio of a restaurant a few blocks from our office. It was supposed to thunderstorm. It didn't. I wouldn't stand for it.

Two years, and it's still thrilling and exciting and even though aspects of this crazy job are beginning to feel normal, there is nothing else on earth I would rather be spending my time doing.

Plus - I get to spend most of my time with these guys...

Y'all are the best co-workers, travel-companions, emergency-contacts, chosen-family a girl could ask for.

Happy Birthday, Thread!

Life Lately...

is so sweet.

And I'd like to take just a second to acknowledge that.  Because it is so easy to get wrapped up in nonsense that isn't real problems. And because I usually take the viewpoint of wanting to live like a shark - constantly moving or else I'll die.

And sure, I don't have a lot of money. I don't have a car. My hair needs a trim, my bed isn't made, I could/should probably weigh 5 lbs less, I'm single, and I spend a good deal of time worrying that I'm frivolously wasting my defining decade and that I'll wake up in my early 30's horrified at the life I've built for myself.

But today after I wrapped up a day of work at a job I love, I went for a run, and then I walked home and read a magazine on my front porch while it poured rain, and drank a glass of wine. And I was happy.

Twenty-Six

I will land on my feet this time,

knowing at least two languages and who

my friends are. I will dress for the 

occasion, and my hair shall be

whatever color I please.

- From Crossroads by Joyce Sutphen

.

On the beach at Malibu with Lisa. One of the awesome parts of my birthday trip to LA. 

25 was kind of a crazy year. Real fun, but a little crazy.  Here's hoping that 26 is just as fun, and maybe just a little more stable.

Thanks to everyone who celebrated with me over this past week. Y'all are what makes life so sweet.

Consuming - What I've learned about buying from a year of being broke.

"Pittsburgh Millionaires" was the term my friends and I used for ourselves when we graduated from college and had our first salaried jobs. I was not making ridiculous amounts of money by any stretch, but I was paid decently and coming from supporting myself as a student on 3 part time jobs in an affordable city. It's amazing how quickly you acclimate to making more than twice as much money as you did the year before.

I knew I had a cell phone bill, but didn't know (or care) how much it was because I could pay for it. I went out to eat 5 nights out of the week, because why not, I worked a lot and cooking is hard, and then I'd throw out food that went bad because I didn't eat it. I bought furniture and clothes to fill up the expanded living space I moved into. I did some fiscally responsible things like saving for retirement, paying off my credit card every month, and not purchasing a car, but looking back now, I want to know what did I do with all that money?

Some of it was really well spent. Plane tickets to Israel, and Italy and Haiti. Running shoes and marathon entries. Tickets for me and my sister to go the opera, some fantastic meals with good friends, and bottles of wine that got shared over conversations I cherish.

A lot of it was wasted on lattes I barely tasted but drank out of habit, cheap shoes from Payless or Target that I wore 3 times and hurt my feet so much I never wore them again or that fell apart within a few months, take out food that other people cooked for me even though I was perfectly capable of preparing food I had already purchased myself, late night ice cream runs, and cheap clothes I bought just because they were on sale.

Then I quit my job to start a business, and re-entered the world of supporting myself through part-time work.

Suddenly, I knew down to the penny how much that cell phone bill cost. Groceries were bought and planned and used completely. I can count on one hand the number of new clothing items I've purchased this year. Lattes became an extravagant treat. I knew exactly where the little money I had was going, and while there were things I missed, I was surprised by how much of what I cut out I didn't miss at all.

Being broke sucks. Feeling stressed about money, and adjusting your social life because you can't afford to go out with people, or do things you love to do is not fun. Luckily, things at Thread are going well, and we've even started to compensate ourselves a little. We're not at full salaries yet, and I'm not giving up the part time jobs, but I can have some disposable income again, which is so liberating. This time I am determined to make sure I'm aware of how I spend it.

The more I learn about supply chains and companies and their products, the more I become aware of just what I support when I purchase stuff. High quality, whether it's things, food, or experiences cost more. Unfortunately, we've become such a consumption based culture that we feel as though we have the right to cheap, fast, vast quantities of products all the time. We don't. Not without huge expense to our environment and/or other people.

I look at the vintage clothing my grandmothers have given me and I think, I don't have anything of my own that will likely last long enough for me to give to granddaughters some day. The more I learn about food policy and the industrial practices and medications and ingredients we ingest, the more I believe in the importance of knowing what you're eating, and where it comes from. The more I dig into supply chains of the products I buy for so little money, the more I realize I am directly supporting practices I don't believe in or want to support at all. The more I learn about landfills and the amount of money and resources being buried underground as we throw things away is terrifying. The more I've been forced to give up, the more I am aware of what I really want and miss being able to buy, as opposed to consuming out of convenience or habit.

So, moving forward I am trying to change. To focus on quality and not quantity. To focus on experience over stuff. I will budget for and pay what I have previously considered an outrageous amount of money for a pair of shoes or a beautiful piece of clothing, because it will be something that I love, and that is designed and made well, and that will not fall apart after one season, and doesn't endanger people's lives in it's production. I will pay 3 times more for the grass-fed beef, because it's worth it and because I do not need to eat meat everyday. I will not buy stuff just because it's on sale or impulsively because I can. I will put that money towards a plane ticket to see people I love, or to run a new marathon, or something else awesome that years from now I will appreciate having been part of my life experience.

Consumers hold a huge amount of power. Your purchases, donations, and the way you spend your money can influence products and policy. Make sure what you're spending it on is worth it.

Sleep Over

"Will you come to our sleep-over?" She asked me excitedly.

"Yes!" I replied without hesitation.

The sleep-over was organized by Megan, one of the owners of the restaurant I work at. Her husband was out of town on business for the week, and she invited the Franktuary ladies over for a good old-fashioned girls-only slumber party.

"Why are you having it on a Wednesday?" one of the cooks asked us, "that's the middle of the week."

"Because," I responded, "We are grown-ups. And when you're a grown-up, if you want to have a slumber party on a Wednesday, you can."

This is why adult-hood is awesome.

We planned on make-overs, truth or dare, manicures, and hair crimping, you know, typical slumber-party stuff. We ended up drinking wine, and eating junk food, and talking until late at night when we all got sleepy and went to bed. So, it was pretty tame by slumber party standards.

It's such a childish event, but it was really fun.

It's easy to experience isolation and loneliness in adulthood, especially before you start a family of your own. And even though we all have our own apartments, with our own comfortable beds, there was something comforting about showing up with a sleeping bag and pjs knowing you wouldn't be going home until the morning.

And just like when we were kids, we lay in the dark waiting to fall asleep, giggling. Even though we're grown women.

Am I tired today? Yea.

But, as Megan wrote in the email inviting us all over - Tiredness is just the price you pay for fun times sometimes.