Coming to you live from my couch, with a migraine, on a rainy Thursday evening. I'm telling you what day it is to be accountable and indicate that I'm more confident in my ability to get you, yes you, reader, your beloved email on Monday morning.
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It was my dog's 8th birthday yesterday (Oct. 29), and she gladly accepts your belated well wishes. She had a dinner of sweet potato, broccoli, and undercooked trout.
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I got a new therapist, and we sat on the floor of a space he shares with a yoga studio in our first session today. I'm trying somatic therapy after years of talk-centered work, and looking forward to the process. I might keep you posted, but as all things newsletter-related, that's up to me. :)
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Coming to you, again, still alive, but this time from my bed, on this chilly Monday morning. Still telling you what day it is, mostly for context, but also so that you know I dragged myself out of bed shortly after my alarm went off to let my 8-year-old dog, Mae, outside, pour a cup of coffee, and grab my computer before returning to bed to pound away at these keys, my partner waking up at a slower pace next to me.
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Mornings really are so precious. Lately, I haven't been taking full advantage of them. See, once upon a time, I lived in California and worked at the cutest cash-only diner. The routines that stemmed from that work were a dream. Wake up before the sun has fully risen, slap some red lipstick on, and manically ride my bike along the beach (California, west coast, sun rises in the west) to get to work. If I close my eyes, I can still smell and feel the salt water. It's very safe to say I'm longing for my pre-college education days.
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This begs a question, though, and that is- aside from the friends I consider family, food, and other similarly important familiarities, what is it that I am actually longing for? The ease of riding my bike most places, the nearly daily farmers' markets, the well-textured milk at nearly every coffee shop, Korean spas (not to mention bulgogi with perilla ssam and not japchae noodles), what is it? How do I lull this longing? I digress because it is making me hungry and other emotions that I choose not to delve into here.
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OH! Happy Halloween for all you nerds that celebrate. I'm learning in my old, ripe age of 32, that I'm not a very enthusiastic person. I sometimes wish I were. At times, I blame my lack of excitement on years of waiting tables and other traumatic human experiences. That could be a neat book title if I ever get the courage to think I'm important enough to write something of an autobiography that people would buy and enjoy reading, "Waiting Tables and Other Traumatic Human Experiences." There would likely be a lot of me yelling at younger versions of myself through text on a page, which could quickly get convoluted, but could also be entertaining. Then again, I have a hard enough time writing a single, directionless email once a week, who am I to think I could write a damn book? Hell, last time I tried to write a book, I ended up slapping together a bunch of miscellaneous writings that I personally think had no sense being put together. HOWEVER, it did display that I can identify a complex problem, take relevant big ideas, and synthesise them down into an easier-to-read format, in this particular instance, earning myself a bachelor's degree in return.
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Anyway, enough about my late experience in academia. I'll give you a little jewelry update as a segue. My custom order has been finished and photographed, all my other little pieces that I can recreate have also been photographed, and I'm working on the format for my portfolio catalog that I had much higher hopes for a few weeks back. I have a big mouth and often bite off more than I can chew, or rather, I can chew it, it just takes me a little longer. Throughout this week, more pictures will be popping up in my portfolio, and I encourage you all to reach out sooner than later if you are interested in any custom silver jewelry for end-of-the-year gift giving.
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On that note, I think that's all I've got. As always, any questions, comments, or compliments can be replied. Complaints, although endearing, are not welcome unless constructive, witty, and only half-serious.
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