Déjà Vu
Happy Birthday blog!

Happy Birthday blog!

Because My Momma Told Me So.

I always knew that things would fall into place, because my mother told me so.

Even at times when I didn’t always put forth my best efforts I still knew that I would accomplish the goals I set out to. Become the lead in my senior class play: Dracula. I made it, but I didn’t study like I should have, in fact, I wasn’t alone. Most of us were more interested in partying then rehearsing our lines so much so that the play was nearly shut down, but we promised we would study and we didn’t, but the show went on! The day before the play I realized I was so focused on the first half of the play, I hardly knew my lines for the second half and began slowly kicking myself for missing so many practices — um, who said anything about a dance scene? Win cutest couple senior year. I have no idea why that was on my list, but without trying I succeeded — unfortunately! Haha. There was only one cute thing about that mess and it was me. Find a successful job. There has always been a camera on my arm or something artsy-fartsy going on in my brain. Most people wouldn’t be shocked to hear that I went to school for media and ended up in a career as a videographer and video editor — I pinch myself often. I went through hell and high water in my first job that got me through school and found myself wonder many times if this is where my life would take me: miserable in a hospital kitchen with some of the most ruthless people I had ever encountered. I do not know how or when I saw the light at the end of that tunnel, but after nearly 9 years, I ran for it! Discover the meaning of happy. So many times in my past, and perhaps it was that one tragic event after another, I was depressed beyond my own comprehension. I wore black. I hated colors. I was sad. I cried for no reason. I often thought about seeking help, but there was a voice in my head that just keep telling me, “tomorrow will be a better day.” I made it through and even with more grief and the stresses of life, I somehow taught myself how to cope and pull through. I took all those cliche quotes and made them real. I didn’t just repeat them because they sounded cool. I made them stick. Tomorrow is never promised. I found that out the hard way when my dad died. My dad died. Even to this day I have to remind myself. Find someone who makes “Once upon a time” and “happily ever after” possible. Once you discover the true meaning of bullshit, and stop trying to make diamonds out of coal, you WILL find thee guy. I knew it would happen, but I had to stop being a kid and wash away all the crap the t.v. and radio told me love was. Sometimes a dozen roses comes in the form of a compliment or the ability to make you laugh when you least expect to. They wont always be your lover cause sometimes you just need a friend and thankfully I got my head out of my ass because the jerk who spilled pop on my shoe just bought me a house, but the best part is — I could live in a cardboard box with the guy and still have a great time. There are still a few things on my list that have to wait, but the great news it that I know that it all happens for a reason when it is supposed to, but that’s only because my momma told me so.

Spring is in thee air!

And it’s not just because it was 60 degrees on the last day of February in the good old O-H- (Puts hand to ear. Waiting for the I-O!) Perhaps it’s the Country music I am jammin to. It makes it really feel like spring. Oh, the concerts at Blossom — CAN’T WAIT!

Today’s big grip? I am fighting the temptation of busting out the new bright tees I bought, which is a lot of restraint on my part. As soon as I buy something new I practically put it on the second I become its owner. I know, I live a tough life. Hey, what else do you have to complain about when your friend rock, your moms a hottie 50 year old, your sister is turning TWENTY and the love of your life also doubles are your best friend in the entire world. 

Also on the Dulac docket: Things are slimming up on the curvy body of mine. I cannot wait till I put on the bright pink t-shirt and see the body that rocked my high school world. I’m getting closer. So, I will fight the temptation in my closet and wait for the magical moment when everything is just perfect! Yesterday we had a couple drinks and replaced bad snacks with homemade chips and hummus. I had a video shoot at thee awesome Carrie Cerino’s out in North Royalton and was asked to stay. I was bad and had pasta, a roll or two and one meatball —BUT! BUT BUT BUT— I only ate a quarter of the pasta and one of two balls and, to boot, I was full ALL DAY. For real for real! I can’t get the scale to budge, but (fingers crossed) the running is building a little muscle. One would hope cause I feel great.

Happy strange-warm weather!

TIP: Add red pepper flakes to your hummus. Every third bite you will find a smoking hot surprise.

What I’m gonna do with this Friday.

Today is me day. I feel like I need to let my mind be free and I need to have a little drink, not stop to think and relax. I have been going non stop for others — inside and outside of my mind. I enjoy doing things for people, but today I need a break. I’ve been using my Friday’s to squeeze in all about me time, but I feel like before I have a chance to wind down, breathe and enjoy my own personal request of relaxation, I feel it is too late. Part of it is my own fault. I tend to really stress about the things that cannot be fixed in the moment. I’ve been trying to work on that. That’s really what this is all about. Trying to letting my mind free of the stress and the things I can control, but that cannot be controlled today. I worry too much. I need to remind myself to live in the day. 

The rain has stopped for now and the air is clear. I feel like I can breathe. 

All I wanna do is pour me a drink, turn my radio up loud and dance. I wanna open the windows and breathe in the fresh air. I wanna laugh and be stress free because tonight — today— is all about me.

Artsy Fartsy Me.

The first real moment I knew I could draw—I was 7 and I was watching my favorite cartoon: Scooby-Doo. I think it was a Friday. It was late and I probably my second time watching this particular episode. (Halloween with Scooby-Dum.) I’m not sure if it was boredom or following in the footsteps of my mom showed me, but I grabbed paper and started to draw while I was watching. I remember I was pretty amazed at the outcome so I busted out the colored pencils. 

I love to draw. My first memory of drawing is with my mom. She would sit down with me and draw. I remember her drawing clowns and I would copy her. She drew and eye. I drew an eye. She made a hat. I made a hat. She made silly little bloop, blop and bleep noises while she drew circles for eyes, a silly clown mouth, curly clown hair and a goofy pointed hat to teach me how to follow the shape. If I went out of the lines, or my shape was a tad off, she would tell me not to worry. “That’s what makes it art.”

My first thought in college was to obtain a degree in Art. I went out on a limb and tried graphic design. I quickly discovered that the University of Akron wasn’t concerned in how skilled you were in art and that there wasn’t an art aptitude tests that would determine your level of ability. Nope! My first art class, I was sitting next to a girl going for a degree in criminal justice. She needed art classes for sketch composites and what have you. 

Our first assignment was to shade a cylinder. I thought it was a warm-up until the “warm-up” spun into a few weeks. It was then I realized that regardless you had to start at the bottom like the rest of um’. I brought in some abstract self portraits I had done in my advanced art high school class. She was less than impressed and still gave me directions on how to draw or do techniques a certain way for a certain outcome.

When the semester ended I retreated from drawing 1 (intro to graphic design wasn’t any better) and decided on something else. I made a strict rule for myself that I would never do anything that forced me to draw a.) they way they wanted or b.) turn my hobby into something I was forced to do. I was scared that art wouldn’t be fun anymore.

Here I am 19 years after Scoob. and 8 years after drawing 1 and I’m ranting about art and all its worth in my world. I don’t draw as much as I used to, but I am so thankful that I didn’t choose a career where drawing becomes a monotonous monster. That would not be a good time.