Snowprints

©2003 Kate Hamilton

A new year,
a fresh start,
a foreign path
awaits your mark.

Happy new year, my little penguins!
Kate

a singing bird in an open cage

Yesterday was bliss.

I called out sick. I spent the whole day either in bed or on the couch. I watched my new "Winged Migration" DVD (a gift I forgot to mention in previous post) while nibbling on apples and peanut butter and just absolutely resting. I was tempted to do something more constructive with my stolen time, but I resisted. I remembered an email Katrina sent me on Monday in which she suggested that I take time to myself. Lay off the Artist's Way for a while. Relax. And it was good advice, because I feel much better today.

Unfortunately that means I am currently at work.

But I have decided to slowly start taking my personal belongings home from work every day. A little of this, a little of that until all that remains are the bare necessities. I figure that if I'm ever going to leave this place I want it to be a clean break. I want the option of just walking out and never coming back. This means no more storing personal emails, files or photos on this dusty little imac. I will take all that I can't leave behind.

It's a baby step, but at least it is a step, rather than another minute wasted wallowing in self-pity.

And so my New Years resolution begins: To take steps, as many baby steps as are necessary, to begin the career I always wanted but have been too scared to commit to.

And with that in mind, I have $130 worth of Amazon and Barnes & Noble gift cards to play with... aaaah gorgeous distractions for the day! Any recommendations?

the Christmas of Kate

I am sick. It was inevitable. Everywhere I went to spread holiday cheer, there was someone spreading germs in return. Whatcha gonna do. I think my particular germ friend came from my little neice Ellerie, who is as sweet as an angel, so I can't be too bitter. Catching a wandering virus while reading a book to little Ellie isn't quite so icky as germ-swapping with an elderly in-law who insists on lip-contact kisses.

And here I sit at work, the dreaded Crazymaking Day Job. How silly was I to think for one moment that if I showed up at work looking, feeling and sounding like a crusty zombie, CEO would take pity on my runny soul and send me right back home? Not silly, but stupid and forgetful of CEO's nature. His immediate response being, "Oh, everybody is sick. Me me me, I'm sick too!" But let's not focus on the stupidity of it all. Let us recall the Christmas of Kate.

This Christmas was supposed to be one of those Christmases where Andrew and I do not exchange gifts because we bought brand new bedroom furniture in the fall. This bedroom furniture was declared the Anniversary/Birthday/Christmas gift of the year for both of us--by Andrew. I was a bit reluctant in swearing off all gifts for little meee for all those events but I did comply after Andrew pleaded the furniture's case. And so, I wasn't expecting anything. Well, maaaybe a little something, just something to open on Christmas morning. Something to keep me from crying for pressies.

Four days before Christmas it dawned on me that Andrew would probably break his own rule because he knows how much I love gifts. While renting a movie I bought the extended Lord of the Rings Two Towers DVD, and Scarface on DVD.

Three days before Christmas I was shopping on my lunch break. There was a lovely wallet at Coach that was very Andrew. I thought, "You know, why can't I buy this for him? I just got a check from a freelance job--it will come from that."

Two days before Christmas we went out shopping together and he started doing this thing where he pulls me into a shop and says, "So if you were going to buy {jewelry}{a watch}{a slinky nightie} in this store, which would you choose?" I tried on fancy earrings, watches and so on. I thought for sure he was fishing for birthday ideas, but certainly not Christmas.

On Christmas Eve I got scared. Oh no, what if he has already gotten me lots of secret things and I have only this wallet and two DVDs for him? I dashed out into the last-minute-holiday-shopping crowd in the pouring rain and snatched up a home improvement book, some bar accessories and a Christmas ornament. Ok there. He will have plenty of little pressies to open.

That night we decided to exchange some gifts since our Christmas morning was going to be rushed. Laid out under the tree for me were at least a dozen beautifully wrapped gifts! I placed a few under the tree and stuffed the rest in Andrew's stocking. And then the Christmas of Kate began.

A beautiful hand-blown blue glass ornament with birds painted on it.
A lovely calendar with antique botannical reproductions.
A Waterford glass ornament of stacked zoo animals.
Four glass glittery bird ornaments of different species.
A bulletin board for my studio with a magnetic chalkboard.
Some cute little things for bedtime.
Pearl earrings.

Wait, stop. Andrew! You stupid stupid silly man! You wonderful adorable silly creature! I welled up with tears. We decided to save the rest of the presents for Christmas morning. Which included:

A Coach/Movado watch.

See how unfair this is? I was completely taken off guard. I hadn't given him any wish lists. I wasn't expecting anything. Except maybe a little something, like one little ornament. Not all this!

And so began the Christmas of Kate, the best Christmas she could ever remember.

Penguin Snow Angels ©2003 Kate Hamilton

I may not be online much in the next week, so if I don't get in touch beforehand, have a very merry Christmas, happy holidays, a feisty festiva, a joyous new year. Go ahead and act like a kid for while, you have every right to make snow angels... or sand angels or dust angels... man it's so complicated being all-inclusive!

And look at me, I finished my holiday card after all.

puppy fever

The search for a Beagle puppy continues to obsess me. It's become a bit of a rollercoaster because the more I search, research and talk to people, the more I want a puppy right away. Of course this is not really a good way to go about it. I don't want to choose a breeder in haste just because they have puppies-to-go. I want to make sure that we are spending money on a breeder for a reason: that our puppy will be genetically well-bred, even tempered, good-looking, healthy and happy. And much like the world of home improvement and contractors, there are just as many shadey dog breeders out there as there are reputable ones. It seems the reputable ones are a little bit harder to track down. But once you find them, you know right away by their dog vocabulary that they know what they're doing. They really are like the handlers in Best in Show.

The language of dog breeding, by the way, is one not to be spoken when you've had a drink too many. You might be slapped in the face or by someone if you said, out of context, "I'm expecting to breed a couple of bitches very soon," or, "there just aren't enough tits for my bitch's litter." Well well well! It's hard not to giggle when interviewing breeders.

But Christmas is around the corner and I have so many other things to focus on. Such as, my holiday card. Still not even scanned yet. Procrastination remains one of my specialties. Shopping. I have done some but not all. Decorating. Our tree needs a big bow, the mantel needs greens, the dining room needs revisiting. Cleaning. I don't even want to think about it. The dust bunnies are now accompanied by dust lions, tigers and bears. A regular dust zoo. Maybe I should charge admission.

cloudbursting

If I go to the gym at lunchtime, and then proceed directly to Wendy's for a combo meal, have I completely cancelled out the benefits of my workout? Nevermind, don't answer that. The point is I went to the gym 3 out of 7 days.

Our entertaining went really well on Friday. Andrew possesses all the knack for interior designing, cooking and entertaining that Martha Stewart is famed for, but in a very male, very hetero way. I am a lucky wife. When I got home from work (late) Friday, he had the table set, the food prepped, the lighting dimmed and the house tidy. All I had to do was clean the bathroom and myself. A good time was had by all until 2am.

The wedding shower was also lovely. I made Cheryl a card and she loved it. She held it up and passed it around the room. Then the girl sitting next to me told me her mother runs a stationery and card shop that specializes in handmade cards by individual artists. In the past I may have merely smiled and said, "Oh really?" and left it at that. But this time I made sure I got her mother's contact info before the shower was over.

For the past few weeks I have been experiencing a growing feeling of anticipation. Not necessarily for Christmas, but for something more. The feeling puts songs in my head and creates unrest in my bones. Like a Kate Bush song...

'Cause every time it rains,
You're here in my head,
Like the sun coming out--
Ooh, I just know that something good is going to happen.
And I don't know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen.
-Cloudbursting from Hounds of Love

or a Cure song

It's a perfect day for getting wild
Forgetting all your worries
Life
And everything that makes you cry
Let's get happy!
It's a perfect day for dreams come true
For thinking big
And doing anything you want to do
Let's get happy!

"But it's much too late" you say
"For doing this now
We should have done it then"
Well it just goes to show
How wrong you can be
And how you really should know
That it's never too late
To get up and go...
-Doing the Unstuck from Wish

The need to do my own thing is growing, and with it my courage and my creativity. But I could really use some more time. There aren't enough hours in a day to do everything I can to move forward. I am growing more impatient every day. Round and round the race track with the bunny rabbit just out of reach. Or, er... puppy doggie!

I am almost done my holiday card illustration which will then be scanned and made into cards and sent out to all my peeps in an unbelieveable short period of time. Do you want to be one of my peeps? Send me your addy (replace (a) with @) and I'll send you a card, at least until I run out of printer ink and paper.

I think you'll like it. Unless of course you hate penguins. And if you hate penguins, well then, get out of this house!

Lord bring me a puppy.

Well it certainly is going to be a busy weekend. I just found out that I'm entertaining tonight! Some dear friends are coming to dinner at our house, and I don't get home until 6:30 so I'm going to have to be super duper Katie-the-cleaning-lady the minute I get home. Tomorrow mom-in-law and I are going to the dear friends' wedding shower, and Sunday there's Christmas brunch with Andrew's family. Dear oh dear.

I did manage to get a few of Monday's tasks done, but I have not finished my holiday card painting and I have not done anything for Mosaic Minds yet. I have, however, been consumed by the invisible task on that list, "find a reputable Beagle breeder who has or will have purebred pet-quality puppies available within driving distance." I have wanted a dog since the moment I moved out on my own 9 years ago. Apartment living doesn't allow for it, but now that Andrew and I have a house with a backyard and a big park behind it, it is time. I know, I know, there are thousands of SPCA and rescue dogs available at any given moment and believe me I've thought about it and have deeply considered it. But unfortunately I have to compromise because my husband is not a dog person. Apparently he was bit by a Dachshund when he was a toddler. Leave it to a wee wee weiner dog to ruin the entire species for Andrew. The only breed that Andrew does agree to is the Beagle. I had a Beagle when I was a babe. My parents bought him before I was born. Me n' Max grew up together as good buddies. I loved him with all my might til the day he died. My fond memories have been convincing enough to warm Andrew up to the thought of a dog, but only a Beagle puppy. And it must be purebred, it must have a pedigree, it must go to obedience school, be registered, the breeder pre-screened, and we must be able to pick it up because it shall not be terrorized by a bad airplane trip. I have accepted these terms because I NEED a dog. I am a dog person. I will train it and love it and walk it and play with it and be its best buddy. I have a feeling that Andrew will warm up to dogs after his first good experience. After that he may be more inclined to adopt a rescue dog. But for now these are the compromises I must make in order to get my way. We have to start somewhere!

And besides, Beagles are simply adorable, they are loyal and cheerful, they love to play and can be trained to do amazing things. Not that I want my pup to hunt down wabbits or foxes. But he could perhaps be trained to guard my house and sniff things out, like my slippers. Maybe I could train him to chase the big fat squirrels away from my birdfeeders so the birds can get their meals in peace.

Of course there are NO Beagle breeders to be found in the Philadelphia area. A few exist in NJ, NY and the farthest reaches of PA. Puppies are in high demand for Christmas. I do not need my pup on Christmas, but it would be nice to have him on my 30th birthday (which is January 5th, in case you were wondering). But I am up against every Beagle-coveting American for the few that were born last month somewhere within driving distance.

The parameters are almost impossible, but I am determined and I will make it happen because I need my wittle puppy wuppy. Hey Max, you listenin' boy? Could you please send me a Beagle?

happy thoughts

As Christmas nears I have started to feel a bit warmer and cheerier inside. Little things seem to be creating more joy than usual.
Such as:
1. My aching little overworked muscles. They hurt but at least I know they're in there!
2. The light scent of roses on my lips.
3. My new iPod finally followed me to work today. Tori and Harriet are keeping me company and whispering happy thoughts in my earbuds.
4. This list of Christmas shopping suggestions. Naughty and nice... purrrrr.
5. My fabulous new purple scarf, loopily hand-knitted by my creative, "preciousssss" friend April.
6. My new journal, artfully designed and hand-bound by my star-in-waiting friend, Jen.
7. List-making.
8. Claire's creative plans.
9. Pretty websites.
10. These lyrics:

Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for
--from my favorite song of the week, "Bigger Than My Body" by John Mayer

Have a happy Wednesday. I send you roses on your lips, happy thoughts in your earbuds, and a sprinkle of glitter over everything.

give me back my legwarmers!

Excuses not to go to the gym.
1. Sweat.
2. Pain.
3. Pain the next day.
4. And the next day.
5. Driving there takes horrible 15 minutes. I could get in an accident!
6. My gym clothes are old and ratty.
7. I'd rather spend time with Andrew.
8. I have too many other things to do! Such as blogging about how much I hate it.
9. I'm not nearly fat enough yet to warrant such pain.
10. If you squint, in the just the right light (moonlight), you can't even see my cellulite.

Reasons to go to the gym:
1. I may not be fat but I am not in shape.
2. Exercise will add years to my life.
3. Lifting weights will help me look and feel younger, longer.
3. Working out makes me sleep better, eat better, breathe deeper.
4. There is a history of early osteoporosis in my family.
5. There is a history of breast cancer in my family.
6. There is a history of high blood pressure in my family.
7. There is a history of depression in my family.
8. More activity=less cramps.
9. Gotta build up these legs if I want to have babies some day.
10. But child bearing hips I can do without for now.
11. I love finding muscles I never knew I had. So does Andrew.
13. I feel sluggish.
14. What was that I saw in the moonlight? Is that cellulite?
15. Six months until bikini season, hello!
16. One month until my thirtiest begin, hello!
17. Looking good makes me feel better about myself, and that pours over into everything else I do.
18. Legwarmers! Handmade or not.

Ok gym, you win.

So today I did it! I went to the gym at lunch. Oh yes, I'll be hurting tomorrow. And oh yes, it was embarassing. I had not been there since September 26th, according to my evil chart. The trainers all knew it. They *gasped* when I walked in the door. This is what I get for working out on the quiet floor. Can't get away with anything, especially disappearing acts.

It's funny because my lack of activity has been bothering me since September, and I almost created an artful excuse not to go today. But then Katrina unknowingly kicked my arse out the door with her post. Also, last night's episode of World News Tonight on obesity both angered me and inspired me. I am angry with junk-food companies who prey on the weaknesses of children as consumers (their innocence and psychological immaturity) in marketing and selling their products. Angry because I have worked for companies that specialize in doing just that. Angry because in America there are no regulations on the minimum age that a child is fair game for marketing manipulation. Angry at myself because I do not eat enough fruits and vegetables. My heart was inspired at the same time, because now I know that I do not want to work at a job where I am indirectly or directly manipulating kids to buy or do things that are unhealthy just for the sake of money. I'd rather be on the other side as part of the solution. How about some good old-fashioned education and nourishment? That's what I need to do! I'd say that publishing is a perfect venue, but even some children's books have a sugar kick built right in.

And then the irony: What did I find in my inbox today? A design job opportunity. Yay, a way out of Crazymaker world! But wait, for a candy and gum manufacturer? Oh dear...

come crashing in into my little world

It was reeeeeeeally hard getting out of bed this morning.

The weekend was so nice. The snow had a calming effect, which resulted in two days of sleeping in late, having brunch and then thinking about dinner. We got some Christmas stuff out to make the official transition into the season (much later than most people in the neighborhood who had their icicle lights up before they took their pumpkins in... I don't get that). I had planned on getting my holiday card painted and printed and ready to send out to my peeps this weekend but it just didn't fall into my leisurely pace. Oh well. This week.

And of course Friday I did not get let out early, unlike everyone else in the Philadelphia area. The roads had nothing but 8 inches of snow and ice on them during rush hour. I made the best of it by blaring Enjoy the Silence on the way home. I like listening to music when I'm driving and look for things that seem to be moving with the music. Things that could be part of a music video for the song. Such as my car swerving back and forth in time with the 6-string bass line; 100 foot cliff down to a creek on my right, 50 foot cliff up to a thicket of trees on my left, canopy of white washed branches overhead. It was treacherous, but it was beautiful.

I love all your comments from Friday's entry. Serendipity. Do, da dipity. So maybe I should be more goal oriented this week and take some baby steps to get me on the icy snowy road outta here. How 'bout this:
1. Paint holiday card design and scan and print.
2. Assemble mailing list for cards including family, friends and art directors.
3. Sketch ideas for Mosaic Minds logos.
4. Gather, print and send out promo illustrations to a certain someone who requested them. (woohoo!)
5. Try to get my hair cut and/or touched up.
6. Shower gift for Cheryl... including a PenguinArt Greetings card.
7. Oh dear I think that is enough!

I always feel compelled to have lists include at least 10 items. So silly. No wonder I never complete everything! Too many words are very unnecessary. They can only do harm.

perfidious friday

I am addicted.

I am unable to concentrate on work, I am forgetting where I am and getting lost in the world of all these blogs and journals and diaries and creative websites that never seem to end. I suspect that this is normal because so many people have so many cool links on every page and where do you stop? Heavens. It's so weird... so many people, mostly young women in their 20s and 30s who are all in the same stages of their lives, getting married buying homes, redefining themselves and their careers... it's fabulous. Despite having a reliable support group of great friends I often feel alone, especially during business hours in the company of the old money Crazymakers. I have already wasted a few hours today listening to them stroke their egos with the Name-Dropping Game. Oh how they loooove name-dropping. I think that they think that I will be so majorly impressed that they run into local bajillionaires at the gas station, the supermarket, at high-falootin' par-tays and yachting trips in New Zealand--so impressed that... uhh... that it makes them feel important? But why?

I waste way too much time complaining and thinking about it. I guess I'm looking for sympathy when I do. Yes, I want everyone to say, "Oh, you poor little thing." "Poor little Kate, you are so talented, you need to get out of there. Here's $XX,XXX to play with. Now go write a book." Is there anything so very wrong with that kind of wishful thinking? There's no harm, is there?

Well, unless that wishful thinking consumes me whole and I cannot get outta here on my own because I'm too stuck in self-pity and job-loathing and fall back into the creative rut that I've just started to scale.

Change of subject. I almost forgot. I wanted to say how lovely the snow is today. It is beauuuuuutiful.

Happy little snowflakes
Floating through the sky
Playing in the tree limbs
Why oh why can't I?

It's a love-hate snowday. Lots of snow=stuck inside tonight=missing aforementioned art opening. But it also means some fantastic birdwatching tomorrow. Birds love birdfeeders on snowdays. They love flitting around showing off their feathers against all the pure white. Especially the Juncos. Have you ever seen a Junco? They're kind of like sparrows wearing a penguin suit.

Let's all put our heads together and try to get into CEO's head that he should let Kate go home early today. After all, the roads are "treacherous." News people love saying "treacherous." Who wants to drive anywhere but home when the roads are full of treacherousness? Andrew just got out early... no fair!

treach'·er'·ous
1 : characterized by or manifesting treachery : PERFIDIOUS
2 a : likely to betray trust : UNRELIABLE "a treacherous memory"
b : providing insecure footing or support "treacherous quicksand"
c : marked by hidden dangers, hazards, or perils
"Kate's ride home becomes more and more treacherous as the hours pass. Please let her go home and have a glass of wine and some brie."

a strange day

Ever smell something you haven't smelled in a very long time, and instantly you are taken back in time? Polo cologne, for instance, transports me right to an 8th grade dance, the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing playing in the background. Well I'll tell you what, it's an awfully strange thing when someone you haven't really communicated with since high school suddenly sends you an email. Especially the "first love" sort. Especially when you're now married and settled in and have managed to almost entirely block out certain memories from that time in your life. If this has ever happened to you then I know you can relate. My brain is on a merry-go-round.

But I will avoid a trip down memory lane by reporting other strange happenings in the past 24 hours.

It is the end of an era. The toy retailer that I used to love working for has filed for bankruptcy protection...again. The friends who were able to hang on to their jobs have been let go. It is sad because it has been such a slow and painful death for all of us. But it is also an opportunity for everyone to pick up and move on with their lives. All the good intentions in the world couldn't save that sinking ship, but who knows what great things could come of such intentions if applied elsewhere. RIP ZB.

On to new things... new friends, new projects, putting myself and others out there. Through the email of a friend I met a girl named Alicia who makes adorable tote bags, and her friend e bond makes fabulous journals, and they're all for sale on their website, Gauchita.com (Gauchita="little cowgirl" in Spanish). There's free shipping for a limited time! Alicia is going to make me a customized penguin handbag, won't that be grand?

And I will see Alicia tomorrow night at an art opening where I will have one piece on display. I'm part of this thing called the (no name) Art Group, started by a high school classmate of mine named Sherry Berger. Sherry is dropping everything to become an art embassador in Costa Rica next year where she will teach very poor children what crayons are, and how to use their imaginations. Sherry has quit her job and learned Spanish to do this. She has taken huge risks. And to fund her trip she gave the group a project to work on that will help get her there. 25 artists have each created a greeting card design as their interpretation of "Peace." (Mine, shown above, was an adaptation to some art I created a few years ago because a crazy freelance job had me too tied up to do something new. Pshaw.) These cards will be sold singly and as a boxed set. When they become available online I will post a link.

But you can still buy our bookmarks from our last project, Bookmark 03. Each non-profit bookmark sold buys a new children's book for an underpriveleged child through First Book. These are the contributions of my friends Sherry, Jennifer and Leslie.

Back to strangeness... End of day yesterday I sent CEO an email to request the week of Christmas off, and also to have my 6 month review (now 2 months overdue). Usually CEO repsonds rather quickly to my requests for time off. But not a word today. Maybe I've demanded too much in one email. Or maybe he forgot how to open new emails. Stranger things have happened. I hate to be put in the position where I have to beg.

Now I have to go home and tell my husband that an old flame popped up and assure him that it's ok and there's nothing to worry about... like he did for me when an old friend emailed him... then there's therapy. My forehead hurts.

How I came to love penguins and other tales

Since wee Melanie asked, I thought I'd explain. Well, let's see. When did the "obsession" start? I think it was sometime late in high school. And I believe it had something to do with a nature show. Or maybe it was during college? Gosh, I can't really remember a defining moment, I just sort of started to appreciate penguins, I guess. I know that's not very interesting. But if you have ever watched a nature show on penguins, you'd probably agree that they are quite the extraordinary bird. Picture if you will, a thousand Emperor penguins, each 3 feet high, huddled together in the farthest reaches of Antarctica. It is -94°F (-70°C) and the winds are ferocious. The penguins stand chest to chest, back to back, effectively "spooning" each other to stay warm. The penguins on the outside of the huddle brace themselves for a little while and take the brunt of the winds. But not for long, because these birds do not allow each other to suffer, they take turns. Some birds from the middle make their way out to the edges and give relief to the coldest ones. The cycle continues all day and all night.

How cool is that??

Other neat penguin facts:
-Penguins are monogamous. They mate with the same partner year after year. Widowed penguins have been observed "mourning" the loss of their partner.
-The male Emperor penguin does most of the child-rearing for the first few months of a baby penguin's life. The mother goes out and gorges herself at sea after the eggs are laid, and returns home to give dad some relief.
-The Emperor penguin's parental instincts are so strong that if a baby dies, its parents will try to "adopt" other stray babies in the area.

If that's not enough...
Read an amusing account about South African penguins by Van the Penguin Man.

Ok, are you in love yet?

snakes and snails and puppy dog tails

Strange... I was just typing a very happy list of gratitude and all of the sudden it disappeared. Why?

Let's start over. Today I am grateful for:
1. Katrina's invite to contribute to Mosaic Minds, and all the nice messages I've received from the group since this morning.
2. The red-tailed hawk spottings I had both yesterday and today on the way to work.
3. The crisp winter chill in the air that makes the indoors so cozy. And a little dusting of snow this morning!
4. The ideas that I've been receiving... it's like an antenna has been adjusted in my head, and I'm finally getting some reception from the creative channel.
5. Beagle puppies! Can I please have one for my birthday? Please please please!?
6. The near completion of the kitchen. The circa 1920s subway-tile backsplash is super cool and very HGTV.
7. New friends.
8. New inspiring websites to visit every day.
9. A little less anxiety.
10. An art exhibit this weekend for the no name Art Group at the Race Street Cafe in Philly. Email me for more info.

forgetting to remember

On "Black Friday" Andrew and I did a little holiday-inspired window shopping in Wayne. We visited a few home decor stores, including Anthropologie. How could I have neglected this store for so long? I suppose their multi-textured and colored feminine happy hippy-chic mock-vintage didn't quite fit into my long-lived gothic dark and gloomy phase. Though you'd think all the velvet would have lured me in. Anyway, I've rediscovered it, and by God if I ever need a funky little outfit for an artsy affair, I have to remember to go there. I also need to source them for ideas for decorating my studio. So I've created a wish list, if for nothing else, to remind myself. It is all a bit expensive but at least it's a visual clue.

How often do you run into something that you forgot you liked, only to forget you like it again over and over? Similar to the mental list of must-have CDs that I forget the instant I walk into a music store. And pretty baby names that I'll forget the moment I need them. And how do I spend open pockets of free time when I stumble upon them? What is it that I have been dying to do for months? Gotta make some lists to remind me. It's easy to forget these things in moments of stress. Hmm, I should start on a Christmas list. I know I have thought of good things in the past few months... what were they again?