The best thing about this sudden desire to crack open some Poe was that my father gave me the book on my 11th birthday, and I'd never read anything except The Raven. I've lugged the damn book around with me for the last 15 years because I believe in developing a well-balanced library, but it's occupied the bottom shelf for as long as I can remember. You know, with the other hardcover books I'll never read but insist on owning.  

This is just one example of how I feel so unlike myself, or the self from the Studer's Reality days. Reality, not Rumors. I'm still kicking myself for abandoning the rumors. Once I get confident with one of my newer projects and publicize it, maybe I will consider integrating a little SR spin... but for now, I head to bed with the following books on my bedside:

Edgar Allan Poe: Sixty Seven Tales,

The Memory Keeper's Daughter,

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and 

Wanted: Bear Cubs for My Children. 

And this on repeat:

Today's the first blue day I've had in a very long time. It wasn't even really that blue- I did things that made me happy, but I didn't eat much and I just took the bus all day and got reacquainted with my iPod, with spurts of activity like tutoring and visiting Julie at Vain.

I had a lot to think about and I have some ideas that I'm figuring out how to pursue. So far, I've only figured out that I am going to have to get a LOT of advice and that I need business cards ASAP. So if anyone feels like a) designing them for me, and or b) skipping that and giving me these or these as a very generous gift, I'd be totally in to it.

But the reason I know I'm blue is because I just sang my HEART out along with Fiona Apple's Tidal album, which is still awesome 14 years after it's release. The only worthwhile video I could find for my favorite track is the one linked above... it's some creepy Phantom of the Opera thing, and reminded me that I should probably make an effort to see that version.

My phone is being whack and won't let me make phone calls, which would usually be fine except I want to talk to LaRocha about how to paint with oil colors before I put the brush to the canvas that Meneely got me, but since I was thwarted (hate that word), I turned to ye ol' world wide web and discovered this amazingness.

Surprisingly enough (well, actually not that surprising- I LOVE art supplies and have THE most random things), I happened to have a bag of white and silver pipe cleaners, courtesy of Emily's Halloween costume back in 2009, and so...

I got right to work. I'd post photos except that my phone is not only being whack, it just decided to power down for no real reason, so wait patiently. 

(A major major yawn just took place. Pardon me!)

Upon further reflection, I don't think I'm blue, I think I'm just tired. There don't seem to be enough hours in the day to balance event coordination and the 50 emails I get about it a day, the two-hour process that is "the gym", tutoring, cooking, and reading everything that I want to read. Stacks of books have started to accumulate, and now I'm on another house improvement kick and embarked on a hunt for a fabulous new bookshelf, a desk, and a dining room table. Preferably ones that could use a little work, since I'm all DIY now n' stuff. 

I'm still gearing up to write about the rest of NYC, but it exhausts me simply to think about it! The short version is that I loved seeing all my friends from Boulder High and I'm so pleased that everyone was able to make it to the same place time and again. I'd also like to apologize to Shane, who didn't get nearly enough group dynamic background and was tricked into a "mellow" evening at some silly club. 

The purpose of the NYC trip was to attend my very first EPIP board meeting in Tarrytown, NY. I had been consumed with travel anxiety around the logistics, since there was a train ride out of the city involved. Thank GOODNESS my friend and colleague felt the same way (or at least pretended to) and met me at the airport and accompanied me through the whole ordeal. We're talking planes, running through traffic, cabs, trains, and a shared cab before finally arriving at... the Sheraton Tarrytown! 

Now I had been "traveling" since the wee hours of the morning, and East Coast time is the worst, so I fully appreciated the glass of champagne they offered, and was slightly weirded out that they also gave me a single red rose. How depressing that the most recent flower I've received came from a kind of rude and scary woman who intimidated me enough not to grab one of the chocolate chip cookies on the desk next to us. 

So let's see... what next. I'm currently too lazy to grab my camera and upload photos, so they'll have to come later. I suppose we gathered for dinner at the Sweet Grass Grill, where I met other board members for the first time - so nice to put names and voices to faces!

The bulk of our time was spent at the Rockefeller Archive Center, my first experience with philanthropy in a true historical sense. I'm probably going to get my facts wrong, but here's the gist of it: the house was built for John D. Rockefeller Jr's wife Martha, who actually never spent a single night in the house. It was built in the '60's even though it's designed to look like an older English colonial home. Or something. There's an unsupported staircase that is to die for, fantastic art, John D. Rockefeller Jr and Sr's desks which we sat at to gain some kind of "wisdom". 

Being on the board is definitely a new experience, and feels like the best way possible to stay connected with the philanthropic world while I continue to explore new things. I'm really excited about the work and what's in store for the year- though there's a lot ahead of us! "Us" being the really amazing folks I met over the weekend and over the phone. 

I don't have too much more to say about Tarrytown except that we made it back safely on the train and then I went on a subway adventure that just HAPPENED to work out in my favor. I'll recap my tracks through Brooklyn and Manhattan as soon as I can truly figure out where the heck we were. 

First of all, my sleep schedule is totally and completely out of whack. Since last Tuesday when I drank coffee after 3pm and couldn't sleep, to Wednesday when I stayed up all night and got on a plane at 6am, to traveling to the East Coast and suffering through the time difference was rough enough. Then add two nights of staying out and up 'til 5am in the city that literally NEVER SLEEPS, I don't know how I'll ever get back on a normal schedule.

To cope through today, I had bottomless coffee again- and just ask Eliz, it makes me CRAZY. Crazy productive, and a crazy chatterbox (ask Embo and Best Fried Joanna - I talked their ears off today). But the interesting thing is that I drank all this coffee over a 4 hour meeting that completely re-inspired me to continue on this path I've placed myself on. 

Let me pause myself and say, "since when do I say things about being on paths"? 

It truly was an amazing meeting with a woman who will be designing the layout for a conference program I'm working on. It could have taken 30 minutes, but instead we talked over the course of four hours about everything under the sun - and the opportunity and desire for this woman to become a mentor was overwhelming. She lives the way I'm trying to learn how to live again and I have so far to go. But everything about it feels right. Scary, but right. 

I realized how important it is to me to have the flexibility to sit somewhere and talk and not have time limits to adhere to. Yes, some structure is necessary, but if another appointment had demanded that I cut our conversation short, it would have been an incredible loss. 

So I'm coming off the high of an exciting and stimulating EPIP Board of Advisors meeting, the most well-rounded 48 hour tour through the Big Apple, and some serious sleep deprivation and I'm LOVING IT. 

That is all. 

Two: did I, or did I not coin the phrase, "hot goss"? I did, didn't I? I did!

Three: make my roommate's boyfriend stop talking to me.

I think this means there are good things to come.

Instead of celebrating Zoey and Kelli's birthdays, I spent the entire day preparing for a 4:30 Bikram yoga class. My prep involved drinking 2.5 liters of water, making and eating potato latkes exactly four hours before class, and agonizing over whether or not I'd be able to stay in the room the entire time, which is supposed to be a beginner's main goal.

There were plenty of things about Bikram that I didn't like. For example, the fact that I couldn't really do anything, and the fact that Kendall was next to me, contorted into ridiculous poses, while I lay on the floor simply trying to bring my heart rate down. I didn't like the fact that my balance sucks, and that sometimes I mixed up my rights and lefts or was unable to figure out how exactly to grab my big toe without getting tangled up.

But while I watched the sweat roll down my shins (seriously? Sweating shins? I'm sure that's never happened to me before), I also felt... emotional? Not in a crying way, but I did honestly feel like toxins were being expelled from my body and that I was going to emerge a cleaner detoxified and more complete person. That is, if I didn't faint from the 105 degree temperature.

That feeling, or whatever it was, was enough to make me commit to going back for more. As I write this, I am again guzzling water in preparation for the 10am class that's just around the corner from my apartment.

But back to my main concern... what I think of as me being awesome might strike others as this weird pathetic domesticity that befalls single women in their mid-to-late twenties. Because when I came home from Bikram (exhausted, ravenous), I got right to work and made French rolls from scratch, an Italian parsley and pumpkin seed pesto, and chopped up an avocado with baby tomatoes and onions for a salad, to be eaten with kale chips on the side.

I suppose if I had a cat, I would be even more worried about becoming an old maid. Yes, that's the defining factor. If I crave companionship in the form of an animal, I will have ceased to be cool, and you should all be worried about me. Until then, I'll consider it a pretty fabulous life.

Pacific NW Global Donors Conference: I volunteered to help out with logistical support in the weeks leading up to the first (hopefully annual) Pac NW Global Donors Conference. I don't know much (or really, anything) about international grantmaking and so I'm excited about the opportunity to learn about the field and to hear from a really amazing set of speakers. Seriously, the program is impressive and I can only imagine what effort has gone into planning this.

I'll be involved with blogging in the days leading up to the event, and helping to coordinate the logistics with the hotel among a variety of other things.

Coincidentally, on the same day I got involved with the conference, I also agreed to help out with the Seattle Arts & Lectures event that is coming up in late March. Yet another group I know nothing about and a whole new set of people to meet. Speaking of which, I have four tickets to see Michael Chabon and Laila Lalami in March and May, which is pretty neat. If you'd like to come, let me know!

Which brings me to this little sidenote: When I Googled Michael Chabon, I came up with this. And even though I haven't read the book, I always appreciate a good non de plume story and am hoping to someday form my own opinions.

And finally, working on both the local and national levels of Emerging Practitioners in Philanthropy is keeping me in the philanthropic game and giving me the opportunity to connect with people all across the country. Which is why I'll be attending my first meeting as a board member in Sleepy Hollpw, NY next week, and the spending two days in the city with some old friends.

All this is to say, being busy is great! And not great. But I am loving the fact that I get to see my great friends all the time, that I'm working out regularly, that I have both professional and social obligations up the giggy, that I'm going out of town, and that my hair is so fabulous lately that I get at least two compliments a day.

It's so funny. I didn't even notice that I wasn't getting compliments until I STARTED getting them again. Which I think means that I got ugly and no one bothered to tell me, and now I'm pretty again. Yeah, I said it.

Just made whole wheat penne pasta with cauliflower, leeks and a red pepper. There's plenty, come over. French bread tomorrow - OH WAIT, I'll be in Northgate all afternoon because I made a mistake and checked the mail for the first time in a week.

Went to a 2 hour conference planning meeting and got a good dose of what I've been missing. Coupled that with (yet another) visit to my old office, but this was for carrot delivery. Yes, carrot delivery.

Went to the gym and spent a lot of time trying out exercises on the Bosu Ball. I would love to have better balance. Working on that.

Marveling at all the appointments on my calendar. Reminded of how this strategy led to my last job.

Got two enthusiastic compliments from strangers about my hair. I'm adorable!

Making a map of all the places we're going to visit in the Big Apple next week. Trying to convince my Best Fried to come visit beautiful blooming Seattle so we can do some intense wedding planning over tea and cupcakes. And Paseo. And salted caramels. COME VISIT!

Finished reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Halfway (exaggeration) through The Memory Keeper's Daughter.

When I'm not off pretending Sunday is the new Saturday and having fabulous french onion soup at Maximilien in the Market, my bedtime has been 9pm.

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a (wo)man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Waiting on the wealth.