Greek Tragedyhi

design for your brain

It wasn't that long ago when my evening ritual consisted of chick by way of flick. My girl movies added a sense of comfort to my life. Clicking up a fem DVD let me zone out before sleep, muddling the Sunday thoughts as I slipped into a childhood calm. Now, I watch DVR'd TV programming and cannot sleep until I catch up. I'll never catch up. And now there's too much to cook, too much to design, too much to write, and too much to edit from my wardrobe and diet.

I feel a little lost, or torn, or in between. Like a middle in the mud. Or worse yet, like a Kelly Wearstler hairstyle*. I know it will pass with some sleep and some exercise and then more sleep, and I know it comes down to pushing myself. Reading this, as an outsider, I'd probably beg to differ and offer that what it really comes down to is not pushing so hard. I'd suggest that I let things play out, calm down, realize that there's a rhythm to things, that there's a tide. The truth is that when I awake, I don't like to set a foot out of bed until I've set a goal for myself for the day. I need to set things out before me, to be driven, to feel as if my day brought me one step closer to something other than death.

I get bored and blue when my hand isn't in enough. And when I'm involved in too much, I feel unsettled, overwhelmed, and like a hamburger with mayo, ketchup, and mustard (Dijon).

Work has been exciting, and I love what I'm working on. Brainstorming is by far my favorite part of the process. What I don't love is that I haven't been spending any quality time with friends lately, which isn't what this post is even about. I've been traveling a lot due to meetings and book events, so I've had some great girl time (and dinners) with Leigha, Abigail, Colleen, and Sydnee but I haven't had "home girl" time. I haven't made phone calls or returned any emails. I haven't made dinner plans (and I really want to). I feel like I'm going through something, something they should name in a textbook somewhere. Certainly people will be quick to cough up "selfish" or "clueless," eh, but I'm used to hearing that. The fact is, I want time for it all. I want to have sushi dinner with Lesli and Bonnie. I want to have Lacey over for martinis, so we can, as she suggested, comb through my closet to see what's missing and what's making it. To have Wendy and Wyc over for dinner with the kids again, and to get some more time with Marcy and Joe. I have to have Natalie over already! Maybe I just need to host more play dates that start at 5pm instead of 10am, that serve sake and sushi instead of soda and sanitizer.

At the moment, though, they're all just wants. I don't know when I'll have the time for it all. How is it already October 22?! In only 8 days I'll be in DENVER, CO for a book event, then the first weekend of November I'll be at the TEXAS BOOK FESTIVAL. I'll be at the JCC HERE IN AUSTIN on Nov. 6., then I'll be in HOUSTON on Nov. 12, followed by SAN ANTONIO on Nov. 13. And in just one month, on Nov. 20 I'll be in ATLANTA, GA for another book event. I decided not to go to the Miami Book Fair because there's just too much else going on with TV, and I have no doubt my December will be hell. I turned down another book event in Ft. Lauderdale that conflicted with the kids' birthday, and I wonder if I just say this to make myself feel like I'm doing a good parenting job. Like my canceling and choosing to celebrate the day they were born is supposed to prove something to someone. Clearly my making note of it means I'm insecure about it. But at the end of the day, who the fuck isn't? Who doesn't question her choices from time to time, to reassess, to make sure her values are where she wants them? Every week is different, and some of them leave me feeling weak.

Today I made a list of activities for the kids (I'll post it tomorrow), to keep them stimulated. I realize, of course that what matters most to them is spending time with their parents. And if there's one thing they get, since I do indeed work from home, it's me. Even on days where they don't get me for any significant stretch of time, they still get a few bedtime stories, I still sing to them, and I ask about their day. I'm still here, checking in with them, watching them eat their lunch as I write, clapping for them from the sidelines. It's not an easy game, and as I read the words they sound like rationalizations. Like a string of apologetic words that form incoherent and unconvincing sentences. There will be days like this. Days where I feel guilt. Yet, I still feel incredibly proud of myself. It's not easy making time for it all. For organized closets and new feety pajamas in the right sizes and organizing a playroom and thinking, still!, about a possible new cover for the paperback version of Moose. And now I have to come up with speeches that I'll be giving at book events this and next month. It doesn't end, and seriously, thank God for that.

I feel unsettled and can't help but point to my Libran scales. I realize this makes me sound like one of those new age woo-woo freaks who might as well tape crystals to her body, but I can't help it. My space feels disorganized and unfinished. I realize everything can't be perfect or mine. I realize that children bring disorder. That marriage brings compromise. So I start to make lists and take baby steps toward creating my own spaces, even if it only means wooden hangers all facing the same way. An organized closet, a cleaned out makeup bag, undergarments lined up just so, no longer roped together in a jumbled drawer. I need a sense of order, a sense of everything having its place, and I need a place where I can close a door and find framed art work and scarves, design touches without any purpose other than my liking to look at them.

I need an interior decorator who can create spaces for a family with young children. Who can survey a space and know just the thing it needs and how much it will cost. The thing of it is, I live in a beautiful home. But it's also a house that doesn't lend itself to fabrics and wallpapers (which is what I really love). Wallpaper can certainly date a space, though. We all of us have to do the best we can with what we have, and for me, I think it means doing my writing in a hotel lobby. I wonder if the Driskill has internet access. If only it was also baby-proofed, we'd have a game plan.

*While I think she's absurdly talented and genuinely admire her design aesthetic, there are certain designs that shouldn't be pushed as far.

toddlers in toyland: that's one to grow on

I am all over the place--not just my clothes pulled from a suitcase, littering my closet floors, or the weave of words in this post, or even my travel schedule, or hair. I'm a blur of thoughts and to-do lists, and even as I type this, I know it won't come out right. There will be too much to say, that it will be more precise, cleaner, if it's all split into neat little sections, drip-fed throughout the week in a series of digestible little posts. So that's exactly what I'll do. I'll be palatable, and throughout the week there will be posts about interior design solutions (when I find them), friendship, travel, work schedule, the guilt of being a mother, insomnia, activities for two-year-olds, Moose paperback design, TV projects, and martinis... all packed in. But for now, it's a list. There's only one way to properly procrastinate, and I find it begins with a list designed to keep you from procrastinating. A "That's One To Grow On" list because when I feel craptastic I look for order and then make shipping orders. Which is what I've done here. I've done this before.

Because wouldn't you rather the magic markers be magically where they belong instead of between your sofa cushions? Organization, toys, and other necessities of a magical home life with toddlers. Now if only I knew where to put it all. How exactly does one go about dividing the space of a playroom into "spaces" for different activities? I know there's a science behind it. That a playground, for example, needs to be mindful of different heights, of including a water feature. There is a rhyme to all the design reasons and it has nothing to do with Little Boy Blue or a cow jumping over a moon. Where does one go about painting on an easel amid wall-to-wall cream-colored carpeting? Come kids, let's go hang out in the garage.

See more of my toddlers in toyland list >>

fruitless labor

M have good intentions. In my mind I'm the type of mom who's sneaking in wheat germ, the kind of wife who's still buying sexy underthings, the kind of woman who finds time to read and return phone calls. But I'm not. I haven't written a real letter to a friend in ages. Everything is typed into little white boxes via IM, Facebook, and Flickr. And in truth, I don't even know what the latest trends are. I haven't picked up a magazine for just the pictures and matchy ensembles since Linus was in town. Still, I make an effort. I subscribe to fashion newsletters, receive updates on the new restaurant openings (both here in Austin and in New York), and each day an email arrives from Martha Stewart titled "Craft of the Day."

Here's what I've got to say: don't read craft magazines; they'll only make you feel inept. Unless of course you have the time to be constructing sake-box planters topped with plastic wrap, intended to be miniature greenhouses. I wish my adult life could be more like school, where my time was divided into blocks of subjects. I'd be able to make time each day for childrearing, grooming, writing, and making my own soaps and soups. When I received an email in celebration of Earth Day, urging me to create a shoulderbag with an "orphaned pillowcase," I realized I'd sooner raise chickens then use a pillowcase as my handbag. One day there will be time for pipecleaner art, for creating a wreath made of seashells, and for stamping envelopes with wax seals. In the meanwhile, I'll compose to-do lists I'll never get through and keep a good distance away from the craft glue.

welcome to nerddom

The redesign of stephanieklein.com is long overdue. To design and re-architecture a site so it makes sense--not just to me but to those who visit--it helps if you begin by asking "What works? What doesn't? What's missing? and if I could just have a wish or three, what would they be...?" So I'm asking. Go ahead and make your list of things that annoy you (I'm getting rid of the Amazon text links but will be replacing with traditional banner ads), or things you really wish this site had. And if your answer has anything to do with my personality, parenting, or patootie, please post one of those treasured comments and close with "I know you won't post this" 'cause those are always fun.

Designing a web site is a lot like organizing your makeup drawer, except it's a bit more costly, definitely more time consuming, and if you do it wrong, it takes a long time to undo. What a terribly analogy. I guess the feeling is the same, wanting a place for every last thing, so it's easily accessible and has all your favorite products (or in this case, content) in reach.  I'm hoping to carve out a spot where videos will always be displayed in a reliable spot, where you can vote on each others' comments (but not all the time, more for those posts where I ask for a fun finish this sentence, or for future contests). I want a place for my photography lessons to live, where I can post a weekly challenge and you can submit your images. I want a section for all the chi chi drinks and finger foods (along with their recipes and photos) to live, as well as comments from readers who've tested said morsels. I'm also toying with the idea of a social networking space, where in that example, a reader could submit their own favorite recipe. So if that day, I had a post for the best brownies, readers could submit their own recipes, photos, and others could vote (or not), etc.

I need to re-categorize all my posts so they make sense. Get empowered. Get Depressed, Get Dolled Up. Get Poetic, or some such system that will be obvious and easy (not my greatest strength, and definitely not those categories). While I began this site as a place to write for myself, it has become more than that. It's a community, a place I go for advice and support sometimes, a place others use to ask for advice, too. I learn here. So now I'm asking, hoping to learn more about what you'd like to see here.

I'm not asking what you want me to write about, but I am asking what's most important to you, you personally. In designing a site, there's "real estate" to consider. It's not only deciding on content (to include videos, podcasts, and playlists), but where a link to that content should be, and/or if it should be shown in a module, taking up real estate on a main page, and then take you deeper into that main page. See, it's a real undertaking... as such, I'm taking suggestions. Let me know what it is that you'd like to see more (or less) of. Does anyone really use those "Digg This" tags beneath posts? I wonder if I should do a section dedicated to scrappy goodness. There's so much I want to include. Thank goodness for content management systems.

first scrapbooking project

It's my first scrapbooking project (if you don't count the ones from high school, assembled on shoe boxes, with magazine clippings, such as "his small size doesn't excite her.") As you click through the images, you'll notice navy blue cards sticking out the tops of some of the pages; that's the hidden journaling (which is next on my to-do list). Those pages will have small ribbons attached, from which to pull.

I tried to bind the pages using thin ribbons, and it worked fine, but I think the rings are sturdier. I'll attach some red, white, and blue ribbons to the rings (once I get larger rings). I compiled the book of their first year chronologically, using holidays and some milestones (first solids) as dividers. As for the title cards, I designed the shapes in photoshop, then did a print and cut with my personal die cutting machine, so the labels are actually raised with a bit of pop-up adhesive. The book is 6 x 6, and ideally, I'd make a few more of them. One for each child, one for us, one for each set of grandparents (three in total), but it's never going to happen. Unless, of course, I miraculously have free time. If I could do it over again, I'd have it all bound at kinkos or office max or some such place.

The details of how it was done: Using 12 x 12 paper (and a printer wide enough to accommodate it), I created a 12 x 12 document in photoshop (use any design program) and arranged 4 photos within it. I then printed the sheet of 4 blocks of 6x6, and sliced them  with a cutter. Next, I used adhesive to glue the pages back to back (these will be the pages). Next, I figured out what I wanted to say on the transparencies and printed the words onto normal letter-sized transparencies. Alternatively, one could use vellum, or could stamp in lieu of printing. The last step was the hole-punching (again, if I could do it over, I'd have kinkos do this as well). Hope this helps. Now all that's left to do is journal, which I can do as the beans entertain each other by passing blocks and sucking on them. Good times.

cows, pigs, chicken, and things

At a certain point "just" just ain't gonna fly.  "I just gave birth to twins" stops being just, just about when exactly?  When can it stop being an excuse for your weight or fatigue?  "We just moved in" isn't really accurate, yet our walls are still expressionless. It takes a while to decorate a home.  People order things, things with delivery dates of six to eight weeks.  We are not those people.  I paw my way through catalogs, but it's all a ruse.  I'm not going to do that, to buy new, a bright living room with layered patterns and lush fabrics.  I "just" had children and have enough new in my life.  Two little news, in fact, who'll defile any new furniture purchased.  But there's no excuse for the plain as Jane walls.

I haven't been posting much because I'm in organize mode.  Phil scoured the Internet and just purchased a new digital die-cutting machine for me.  The QuicKutz Silhouette.  It plugs into your computer and will cut out any vector shape (so all of my fonts).  This is important because I will never have a need for a cartridge or particular punch.  I can create anything I want, and then simply "print it" only instead of printing, it will carve out my design.  I cannot wait for its arrival (ditto on the iPhone I'm picking up this Friday!).  In honor of The Silhouette, I've converted "the junk room" into a scrapbooking haven.  First, let me just say, in a past life, I got a junk drawer.  And in Straight Up and Dirty, I give Romina "Rome" Rosen a hint of shit over having an entire "junk room."  Well, you're allowed to have a junk room when you live in Texas because everything is bigger here.  Our once junk-room, now combo office scrapping space, is not close to complete, as the walls are desolate.  I want to frame three of my Hermes scarves without having to actually frame them.  Very cake eat it too.  I want the look of them because they inspire me, their colors, rich drape, playfulness and grace.  I need to put up some art, things that make the room inviting and warm.  Something over sized and statement-worthy.  Our walls throughout the house are still blink.  Yes, blink, not blank.  Because seeing it written there, blink should mean "missing something" as in, if you blink, you would miss it.  Anyway... the walls are blink because we cannot make up our minds.  I'd like to cover a wall in black and white photos of friends, of our favorite places, but it's a project just choosing, and then add to that uploading for the printing.  Sorting, combing through archived photo cds and external hard drives.  And then the both of us agreeing.  The photos don't belong in the scrappy office space where color needs to inspire. They belong stacked uniformly in a hallway, something near the living room, photos of lives being lived. 

My Mac is back.  I had most of it backed up, but despite this, most of my programs no longer work, even the ones for which I actually paid money. So that has been a nightmare and a half.  Any nerds who have a demonoid invitation for me, I'd so so so appreciate it.  I need all the help I can get.  Mostly, my fonts have been a tangle.  I've spent the past two days--not joking--just cleaning up my fonts (and I just purchased the fling font, featured on the cover of Blueprint Magazine).  So the Mac is cleaner, which means I'm as dirty as my mouth.  I haven't showered in days.  There's too much to organize.

My vagina.  It needed organizing too.  The truth of it all is, since giving birth via c-section, I've been too embarrassed to get my lawn mowed.  It's the scar I think; it's dark pink and kind of gummy looking, raised.  And I cannot imagine someone putting wax on it.  So yesterday I used scissors.  I'm far too prone to razor burn, and I still haven't found (and admittedly haven't been looking for) a waxing place like the mid-town Russian place I loved in New York (Elite day spa near Lord & Tailor--ask for it "French," but say it in English.  So fast and cheap and good). 

It's been storming here today; the perfect weather for writing, especially camp writing.  It reminds me of cabin days, of mud sliding down "Girls' Hill."  I'm still in my "pajamas."  I love days like this, lazy like a Sunday, except Monday.   I put pajamas in quotes because I've never been a pajama girl.  My aunt used to give us these hideous over sized flannel-type jobs, with overzealous prints of cows or flying pigs or ice cream cones on them.  She purchased these beauties from Filene's Basement and gave them to us for Christmas, where they were quickly relegated to our basement.  "You know," she'd say after inspecting our feigned smiles, "for when no one's around."  Yeah, no kidding.  "They're comfortable."  So is being naked.  Be the cow; don't wear the cow.   

And with that, I'm going to continue to download footage from our homemade videotapes into iMovie.  Once I've compiled enough cute clips, I'll stitch together a movie that I might just share.  Oooh, I wish a Muppet type movie were on right now.  So perfect for a day like today.  I wonder what Miss Piggy would put on the walls of her scrapping room.