What's Lovely for July 22, 2010: Awesomefantabulouslovelyamazingandotheradjectivesthathaven'tbeeninventedyet package from...
I can't tell you how excited I was when I saw this bright yellow box on my front porch. How excited? THIS EXCITED!!!!!! Though I wasn't literally jumping up and down, I was wide-eyed as an eight-year old kid on Christmas day. Only it's better, because it's Christmas in July. Christmas in July is amazing in every way except one (Santa will be throwing off his snowsuit for a pair of boxers, yeesh).
My, I got sidetracked.
We've been planning this package exchange for awhile-- and now, with the blissful emptiness that is summer, it has become possible. Not only is getting mail exciting, but mail from blogger friends who live far away? Priceless. And since I have several questions from Indigo that I need to answer, this post shall be entirely Tangerine Umbrellas on an Indigo Day theme!
Look at how neatly and prettily Indigo wrapped up her gift! All purdy like, I tells ya.
1.If you were to change your name, what would you pick?
I actually like my name, is that too vain to say? Charlene isn't a name you hear every day (though I have called it the name that only 50-year old women in menopause commercials have). But I have thought about this before-- if I had to change my name, I'd go with Irene. Boring, right? It rhymes with Charlene. I'm like the poor man's poor man's Shakespeare.
Out of the magnificent menagerie I've been blessed with, one of the most unusual(ly awesome) were the pig popper and a pink feather.
I'd definitely go with varying shapes and sizes of stripes. Pinstripes, fat stripes, you name it. Can you imagine how streamlined and ridiculous my house would look like??
Cami enjoyed the pig popper (hopefully I'll share a video of her playing with it later) immensely, but wasn't amused when I tried to put Tangerine's gift of the pink feather in her collar.
I'll obviously realize upon polishing the non-working toaster with the handkerchief that it's in fact the Brave Little Toaster who's just sleeping. I'll lightly smack him to wake him up, and though he'll be a little perturbed that I slapped him awake, he'll be more than glad to help me. He'll then dive into the rising pile of dough and use his toaster powers to electrify the dough and then summon millions of toast that we'll both use to crush the dough into a corner. The Brave Little Toaster will allow me to use some of his inner wires to fiddle and open the locked door and in our triumph we'll both share the apple. And if all that doesn't work, I'll use magic and then eat the apple. The end.
Tangerine sent over these beautiful Chinese paper cut-outs that were so delicate and fragile that I felt like I was holding a real butterfly.
It's always been a problem with me to focus on one set career path, and the number of choices has always daunted me. However, at this point, I'd love to be offered as a graphic designer/artist at a fashion magazine or be a part of the making of film and television title design like this. Of course, there's always that dream I once had to be a singer on Broadway. Ah, pipe dreams, don't we all have them?
5. What, in your opinion, is the best thing since sliced bread?
No offense to sliced bread, but you know what, there are a fecking ton of things that can beat it. For example, this package. It's fecking awesome and it's full of love. Is a bread full of love? No, it's full of bread and carbs. Though I love carbs, so whatevs.
I keep all my letters, postcards and miscelleneous things with writing on them in this box. It's gradually yet surely getting fuller.
The second song on Indigo's CD (Scott McKenzie's "San Francisco") was playing when I read this comment over at Ruby Slipper Journey's blog-- "It makes me so happy that someone is considering taking up sewing, possibly partly inspired by little moi!"
That's when it hit me (albeit softly).
Blogging brings us all together. If it weren't for blogging, then that blogger wouldn't have been affected by the other blog. If it weren't for blogging, then I wouldn't be listening to this Andrew Bird song (he's currently trilling his violin and whistling, of course). If it weren't for blogging, then my room wouldn't be littered with many treasures and I wouldn't be quite so full of thanks, grace and a little bit of guilt (mind you, there's only a bit of guilt because Tangerine and Indigo are so generous to give such amazing gifts that I feel like I don't deserve this at all).
This is when the music swells, figuratively if not literally.
When I really stop to think about this, I'm overwhelmed. My chest feels heavy with feeling, but it's not overbearing. It's light yet has a steady weight at the same time. It's hard to put how happy and thankful I am quite succinctly into words that aren't blatant signs of flowery poetry, but I'll try. Thank you, Tangerine. Thank you, Indigo. Thank you, blog. Thank you, followers and blogger friends. Thank you for supporting me and replying to my neverending questions. You like me, you really like me (and this is when they drag me away from the stage).
Contrived melodramatics aside, I'm happy. It's enough to make you want to laugh, cry and hug a puppy all at the same time. But that sounds a bit too hazardous to try at home. Thanks y'all.
:)
