Thank you for joining the Thompson family

A really great company made me a job offer last night. Yep, things come full circle in the world sometimes. My new office will be less than 5 minutes from where my old house used to be. I had trepidation about this one but wowed everyone and am making things happen in my world. FINALLY.

I will be doing a really fun job, full of time spent defining processes and making things run smoothly. I get to learn a new business and get quickly up to speed on some very important details. I will learn to code like a monkey and to weave dreams in my sleep.

I love my soon-to-be coworkers. I received an email from the team this morning that had a subject line that I posted in the title. "Thank you for joining the Thompson* family. Your life is about to change.... are you bringing us monkeys?"

Change is good but it's always rather scary. For me, this change has been a long time coming. The last time I had a job in my field was October 2007. I've been employed doing a "get by" job for a long time, making very little money with the added perk of harassment from my boss and high stress and it's been soul crushing and financially devastating, to say the least. But this time, I held on to the dream of being back in an office, having a fantastic boss and learning something new while I do what I do best. Which happens to be most things.

I have written almost every day here, for a very long time, and I hope to keep up the good work. But if you don't see me as much, it's just because I have a crazy good life that gets me one step closer to that big porch with a beautiful view, a hand to hold and a dog to warm my feet.


*Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent and the monkeys.

A girl walks into a bar...

In honor of my best friend, Riot Kitty, and her funny story about a strange craigslist ad, I had to share a story that sort of relates.

As a graphic designer for a number of years, I still have frequent referrals to do a project here or there. A friend of mine said he had a college buddy getting ready to start a business and they needed a logo and some marketing help. I set up an appointment to meet him and his business partner at a local Starbucks.

They were easy to find since the place was empty. We did the typical introductions, I showed my portfolio and we discussed their expectations. They wanted a logo for a "specialty products" business. I was thinking promotional products like pens with logos. Cups with pictures.

First off, you can't get work done for free. "Not much budget" always means "broke" and I don't work for free anymore, no matter how many fabulous millions of dollars people promise me they'll pay me once the thing takes off. I have kids to feed and rent to pay. A good logo can take 10-20 hours to work on. These guys wanted $1000 worth of full color illustrated logo for nothing.

I explained that the local art school or Portland State would be a better option if they didn't have a budget. You can get a student do work for all but free just so they have something for their portfolio.

"Well, we can work in trade." OK, this is not usually a good idea, but I always like to see what someone wants to barter. "What were you thinking?"

At this time I want to paint a picture of this guy. Dressed in slacks and a jacket, his business partner is a female who is wearing really expensive shorts and a t-shirt. They look like they just walked out of Abercrombie and Fitch and surprisingly came to life from their former plastic mannequin status.

"Well, we're starting a porn resale shop so we could trade you for all the porn you want." The guy said this with a straight face. Porn? RESALE PORN????

I can just see their ads. "Slightly used snuff rag...."

Suffice to say, I asked them not to use my name if they asked for a student at the art school...

He Man versus Thunder Cats

What in the world?

I sit here in the middle of the night with my daughter. She doesn't sleep like a normal person. Nope. Sleeps during the day and is up all night. Like my old cat, Escher, that used to stalk me all night long and pounce on my face when I least expected it - claws out.

So here we sit, totally ignoring each other as we sit side by side on our computers. Hey, are you emailing my friends again? They always like you better... it's the blue hair.

Anyway, the television is on in the background, as it usually is, and I'm kind of annoyed and slightly revolted by this show. It's called The Great Debate. It's kind of like "I love the 80s" type shows. Only stranger.

They just had a debate about the best cartoon hero. He Man or Thunder Cats. I'm not telling you who won, you'll just have to watch it yourself.

But it brings up a questions for me. Where in the world do they get the ideas for these shows? I remember Celebrity DeathMatch, where claymation Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera dismembered each other on MTV. Jackass is my LEAST favorite tv show ever. Ever. Why won't one of his stunts just kill that jerk once and for all? And what's up with the midget?

Now, I am able to change my mind about shows sometimes. The first time I saw SouthPark (with the girls that used to babysit Sean & Sara), I was floored. And amazed. They killed Kenny. What red blooded American mom could approve of that? Now, I love the stupid thing. Especially when there's a pageant. Or when Mr. Garrison plays with Mr. Slave and Mr. Hat.

I am, after all, the mom that used to allow the kids to cuss - but only when we went through a tunnel.

I will leave you with confirmation that television, and especially certain aspects of tv, are important to me. After all, how many other people would rip apart a pallet to create Plank, the best wooden friend a guy named Johnny, friend to Ed, Edd or Eddie could find? Does anyone else think Sarah, the annoying and bossy sister to Ed, reminds them of someone? Hey, Plank sees things. Does he see the monkey in front of him, I wonder?

A good day

I had a major misunderstanding with the man I love and we worked through it.

I had a very, very good interview at a place that seems awesome - I loved them!

I had some time with my son, was able to treat him to a special hour of alone time - and a zebra.

I added new monkeys to my world. Bowling monkeys. *shudder* The only thing better would be bowling monkeys and bacon.

I came up with a strategy for dealing with my soon-to-be-former job. It's brought me nothing but chaos and I feel much more confident that I will be able to quit really soon. Which could be tomorrow. Did I mention they asked how I want my computer set up?

My friends all called me to tell me to kick butt and take names - which I did - and to have fun and make them sell me on their company. They have a health club on site. And a basketball hoop. Conference rooms named after local outdoor activities.

I came home to a dog that found access to the kitchen garbage and laughed as I cleaned it up instead of crying. This is a big deal because a dirty dish would have brought on a fit of tears 4 days ago.

I proved someone wrong - and it was a wrong that needed to be righted.

I stood my ground with a bully and made her go away.

I saw my best friend.

I heard from my buddy Fireblossom and got lots of love from her via email. She was silly and it made me happy.

I got to remind myself what being happy feels like.

Ooh - and I got to have my dog sleep on my feet. I wonder why his breath smells like cleaning products??

Happy Tuesday everyone!

The Bluffs

Sometimes I dream in color, sometimes in black and white.

Last night, my dreams were vivid. Stunning sunsets over the city, beautiful wetlands in the foreground with the west hills of Portland in the background. Comfy chairs, a nice cold glass of lemonade, my homemade kind, and good company. Candles burning. Laughter. Bliss.

Here is the view from my porch, standing on the corner of my dream house. The one with the writing room overlooking the city. With hardwood floors and paneled cabinets. I will have to do something about the pink kitchen, though.
It has stained glass windows, a giant, wrap-around porch and a cozy fireplace in the front room with bookshelves for Whitman and Hemingway and maybe Rachel.

Some day, this view will be mine.

When a door closes...

I spent the morning yesterday photographing doors and entryways. I find myself feeling calmer after an hour of stomping around taking pictures of things. I did the same thing a couple weeks back when things started to feel overwhelming and I checked out a beautiful cemetery not far from where I live.

One of the pictures was of an old crypt that had a tarnished copper door and was in major disrepair. It sits in the wall of the hill you have to drive up to get to the main cemetery. Hundreds of people see it-and probably ignore it-every day. I was intrigued so I stopped to take a shot, parking the car a little off the road. It was a Friday and pretty early so I figured there'd be little traffic.

After the two minutes of shooting, I looked up to see two guys waiting for me to move my car. They hadn't said a word or made a noise and they could have easily made it around my little Jag. But there they sat, watching me with intrigue. "Why would you take a picture of that old mess?" asked the youngest of the two, probably not even 20 years old. He had obviously been off doing heavy labor and was dirty with mud.

Someone's mom or dad or little brother is in there. And it's obviously been neglected because the family isn't around anymore. I smiled, showed him the shot of the close up of the door and told him that would be a key piece in a book about doors that I'm writing. It's one of the most beautiful doors you could ever see. The moss growing on the old Rocky Butte Quarry stones, the tarnished copper that is the color of sea foam, the yellow mold growing on the grout... and the leaves scattered at the base make for a most beautiful and interesting structure. If you didn't know it was a crypt door, you'd think it was the entry to a secret garden.

He seemed very unimpressed. "Why would you want to take a picture of doors?"





My answer, of course, "Why wouldn't I?"

Digging through bins

Tuesday was allowance day. It's a big deal in our house, where I'm not making much income, for me to dole out the pittance of $20 each to the kids.

I had a great interview this past week and the job actually fits almost all of my criteria. Enough money, responsibility and flexibility, learning something new, creating a new process since it's always been done by another company. The company is financially sound and has a good reputation. The person who would be my boss is awesome. I would love working there.

But I'm overqualified. I hear that again and again, as I work to scrounge and scrape together money for groceries and utilities and the basics. Keep your fingers crossed and send little old me a little extra good karma at 3:30pm Pacific on Tuesday!

After she got her allowance, my daughter wanted to go to the fabric store and pick through the bins of remnants. She wants to create some strange looking stuffed animals and sell them online and at a store up the road. She's also making leg warmers (if you'd call these things leg warmers - it's not the 80s anymore!)

She has a number of projects going right now and a number of demands she's placing on me that I will not be able to fulfill. Bummer. For her, really.

The trick here is that there is no right or wrong answer. To be a good mom, I have to take care of mom first. This is my mantra for 2009 as I travel the windy and often bumpy road of life. If I sacrifice everything that makes me happy for everyone else, there is no room for me in my world. And no room for me makes for a very cranky mom. By the way, so do 19 voicemails in a 6 hour time period, Sara, in case you're reading this...



Now, a scary stuffed animal might go far toward forgiveness, babe...