Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking, Pinky?

My beautiful big sister, and her handsome hubby, have just had the most beautiful baby...IN THE WORLD.

Friends, I'd like you to meet my niece, Claire Elizabeth.

She's just two weeks old, gorgeous and already planning for world domination.

The Wonderful World of June

I'm just going to go ahead and count May's NaBloPoMo a success. So I didn't post every single day, and I sort of forgot about the theme. Phooey! It got me back into writing pretty regularly, and that's what it's all about, right? I'm going to keep telling myself that I'm not a procrastinating failure, and move right along.

Right along to the wonderful world of June! This month is going to be chock-full of good times, and I can hardly wait. Let me break it down for you.

Birthdays! 
My Soul Mate's dad is turning fifty this month, and he's a pretty important fella. Since I met Jodi on the school bus, when we were eleven, her parents have been a very important part of my life. I've mentioned that my dad's a good guy, he's just never been very present in my life. Well, Jodi's dad has been there...always.

Jodi's also got two younger siblings, which I refer to as my Pseudo Little Sisters. Leah is the oldest, and Kayla's the baby. Well, the baby is turning fifteen this month. Feel incredibly old much?! I was at the hospital the day she was born, bloggers. The day she was BORN.

Since we're feeling old* here, might as well go ahead and get this out of the way. I'm turning twenty-eight on the twenty-seventh. Yes, that's right, I've now surpassed the twenty-seven on the twenty-seventh mark, and may possibly go into a deep dark depression. I doubt it, but it could happen. I'm keeping my options open.

What does all this birthdayness mean?! It means that my Soul Mate, complete with wonderful husband man, will be coming home for birthday celebrations! Yaaaaaaay! I'm thrilled to the core about this. I haven't seen them in over five months, and I'm going through withdrawals.

Projects!

I'm going to begin working on a couple of really exciting things this month, too.

First, there's my sketchbook for The Sketchbook Project. It came in today, and I can not wait to get started! I really can't express how much joy it brings me to know that some of my work, however rough and unfinished, will be exhibited in museums throughout the U.S. I'll probably be subjecting you to sketchbook entry posts, so brace yourselves for doodles.

I'm still in shock over this second project. I've already ranted to some of you about it, but I've got to give more details. Last week, a man came to facilitate a training at my place o' business. On his first day with us, he saw some of my artwork, talked with me a little bit and then...asked me to illustrate a children's book for him!!!

He recited the story he'd written from memory, and I'm in love with it. It's right up my alley, and totally something I can stand behind. I've already started working up some characters, but it's really in the early stages. I'm currently waiting to receive my edited copy of the book, so I can dig in.  I'm seriously waiting for someone to pinch me, and hoping and praying I don't wake up. I want to write and illustrate children's books so badly, and I think this is a wonderful start for me. Squee!

*Let me clarify, before someone thinks I'm calling them old. I'm merely in awe/thankful that I've been on this planet for twenty-eight years. I tend to go with the "you're as young as you feel" idea. I mean, look at the men I'm drawn to, for goodness' sake. I'm attracted to guys in the 34-50 range, which I most certainly do not consider "old". I just wanted to make that clear. And Todd? I guess you lucked out, young man. :P

27

(The wonders of a little free time at work...and hilighters.)

My birthday is on the twenty-seventh. Of June. I'll be twenty-seven on the twenty-seventh of June this year and, though I feel that this is some sort of doom's day event, I'm feeling pretty good about being a year older. Well, pretty good about my life. Not necessarily being older.

It may sound awful to some of you happy shiny people out there, but every year that goes by I find that I'm comparing myself to my mother.

When she was 16 she had run away from home, dropped out of school, gotten married and had my sister.

I was painting in my room, rocking out to The Beatles, The Doors, The Wallflowers, Metallica and thinking about my future.

At 25 she'd been divorced, remarried to my father for eight years, and welcomed me into the world...on June 27th, 1982.

I was finished with college, married about 4 years, adopting every stray animal that crossed my path, painting, rocking out to The Beatles, The Doors, The Avett Brothers, Andrew Bird and thinking about my future.

I don't know what it is exactly that makes me want to compare my life to hers, or why I feel good about my life in contrast to hers. Don't get me wrong, my Mom has made some seriously detrimental decisions, but she also rocks. She's 4 foot 11.5 inches and all Trouble. Take notice of the capitalization, or else.

She's been through a lot. Married for almost a decade to a raging alcoholic. Put up with an abusive boyfriend for the next thirteen years. Raised two daughters. And then went back to school when I was nine, and got her nursing degree.

Now she has a good job, a house that's paid for, and a very mild mannered fiance. So, I certainly don't wish she'd changed too much, or else my sister and I wouldn't have the luxury of griping about her now and again. ^_^

Still, I find myself unintentionally comparing our lives. I suppose it's because for years she was the only person I really felt like I knew. We moved so often. I'd make friends. We'd move. I'd make friends. We'd move. My Dad wasn't around. My Mom was all I had. So, I guess it makes sense.

Anyhow, my birthday is Saturday. Yay! ^_^

Oh, and Ben. We had a failure to communicate. Probably my fault, as most all miscommunications are. The newf shares a birthday with my best friend's little sister. MY birthday, and Helen Keller's, is June 27th. Sorry to revoke his "newf"ound birthday prestige.

Coming To You Live

I am, at this VERY MOMENT, twenty-six YEARS OLD!! I'm listening to my selectively silly husband spout off random information about the human colon?!?! It's 1.5 meters, almost 5 feet long, and the ph varies between 5.5 and 7...blah blah blah.

Refrigerated in our nice, clean hotel room, we patiently await tomorrow, when we can head to the beach and check into our cozy little beach house.

Now, said husband-person is using the visually impaired option on his MAC. I've heard the creepy little computer voice call me a couple colorful names, and tell me, "Happy Birthday honey-pie."

This is why I married this man. He makes me SO HAPPY.

Ahhh! I've been caught. Over and out.

How Much Postage WOULD You Need To Ship A Teenager To A Remote Location?

Today my best friend's baby sister turns thirteen! I say to myself, "I was at the hospital when this kid was born. That was thirteen years ago?! That can't be right!"

Alas, ti's true. I've known the monkey all her life. Glorious right? Well it would be were it not for the fact that it makes me feel like someone will soon yank my brains out my nose, and kill my cat long before her time. It serves as a reminder that I have been alive for a quarter of a century, rather than (in an airy Marylin Monroe flight attendant voice)twenty-five years. Say it slowly, "a quarter of a century." Of course, it's also kind of nice.

I grew up in, for lack of a better way to describe it, a gypsy family. My Dad's a loving alcoholic, with the best of intentions. A.K.A. not around. My older sister was just old enough to not really be in the picture. I'm getting to know her now. And Mom...she did the best she could, which involved us moving every few years. When I was eight, nine, ten, thirteen...like I said, "gypsies." I was born in Indiana, really started to "grow up" in Kentucky, and ended up in Alabama. This is where we stuck around long enough for me to work through being moved around so much, always being the new kid and such. I think that sort of thing is easier for girls, but it still sucked. So, twenty-five means I'm "adjusted," which is nice. I can deal with that.

Kayla's a teenager. Gag. She's probably one of the coolest kids on the planet. She's a really wonderful little person. Bright, kind and beautiful. We won't talk about the little "boyfriend" she's got, that I'd like to ship to Abeu-Dabi.

That's what inspires me to make art. Not shipping thirteen year old boys to remote islands. Although, that's an idea. :D Relationships amaze me. I have so much to say about them, and about resiliency...or so much to ask rather. I guess since I had such strained relationships growing up, it overwhelms me to think that I could know someone that well. I can know someone from the day they're born, and help shape that person.

Happy Birthday Kayla! Punk!