I wanted to give a photo book as a gift, but they are surprisingly hard to find. All I could find was an ugly blue one. Actually, as far as I can tell, these kind only come in blue. Ugly blue. Why not black?

Anyway, being that it was all I could find, I decided to just cover it with something. How hard could that be? I am no crafter, but I am a pretty creative person.

So, I went to my local craft store in search of some self-adhesive paper-type stuff to put on it. I walked around aimlessly for awhile, confused (and awed) by all the scrapbooking stuff.

Eventually I found someone who worked there.

Me: Do you have any self-adhesive paper-type stuff?

Her: blank stare

Me: Ok, so I have a photo album that I want to cover, so I am looking for something adhesive to put on it.

Her: Oh, we don’t have anything like that.

Me: What? It’s a craft store. You have nothing adhesive? Scrapbookers glue everything? Really?! Oh, ok.

Her: I am a scrapbooker. I’ve done a lot of books and even I would not attempt recovering something like that. You’d have to fold corners. It would be near impossible to make it smooth.

Me: Look, lady. We used to have to fold paper over textbooks in elementary school to keep them crisp. How hard can this be? Ok, thanks.

Her: I mean, if we were in another store, I could take the time to show you how to do it. Maybe you could get some flat quilting batting and cover it with fabric.

Me: I think that would be too bulky. I am pretty sure I simply asked for a something self-adhesive. Thanks. Do I look that stupid? (The dried coffee splatter on my face could have been a hint – wish I’d noticed that beforehand)

Her: Sorry. You just can’t do it.

Me: Challenge accepted!

So, I walked around and picked up some double-sided self-adhesive sheets and some  card stock paper. I was determined to make it work. I’d show her!

As soon as I got home, I set to work. I cut and stuck and folded (gasp).

And guess what…

It worked!

Take THAT sales lady. Ha! In your face. That is what you get for underestimating me.

In unrelated news, I will be stopping by that store with a resume in the near future. Not really.

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My spell check tells me scrapbooking is not one word. I don’t care. I am making it one because I think it should be one.

I know I promised you a post about the India section of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat Pray Love. I am still attempting to participate in Bored Mommy’s virtual book club.

Truth be told, I haven’t been able to finish it. I have tried, but I cannot get into this book. I really wanted to love Eat Pray Love because so many people like it and recommend it. However, right now I am ready to put it down and not pick it up again. I am struggling through each page.

I wasn’t impressed with Italy and I still don’t like Gilbert’s writing style. I am about three quarters the way through India and I am annoyed. I know that this book is about Gilbert and her journey, but I am finding this section incredibly self-indulgent and tiresome. She complains a lot. About everything. Her negativity brings me down, which is disappointing because she is on a spiritual journey while in India. Maybe some of her enlightenment shines through in the pages I have yet to read.

The bright light in the India section (and yes, there is one), is Richard from Texas. He is honest and insightful. Any of the little gems I will take away from this section come from him. He is a refreshing contrast to a whiny (yes, I said it) Liz.

Hopefully, I will get through this section and provide you with a more fair, inspired review.

In the meantime, wish me luck.

I was taught what to believe
It clouds the truth I know
It shapes my identity, perceptions, interpretations
Every aspect of what I believe
Linked to something I was told
Grass is green. Sky is blue.
Believing is much different than knowing
I know better. All is relative.

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This is a Six Word Friday post. The prompt this week is ‘this much I know’

I didn’t read Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert when it came out or when it was hyped up by Oprah. I wasn’t interested and really had little intention of ever reading it. Then, Maria at Bored Mommy decided to start a virtual book club in anticipation of the upcoming movie. I couldn’t resist.

The book documents the journey of the protagonist, Elizabeth, through a year of self-discovery. It follows her through Italy, India, and Indonesia. Today, we are discussing Italy.

I am not sold on this book. I am over 100 pages in and feel like I could easily abandon it and not wonder what happened or what I could have learned. It actually took a lot of effort to get 50 pages into it because I am not a fan of Gilbert’s writing style. It is too familiar for my literary taste. It reads more like a blog than book. Also, I find the switching between present and past tense very distracting, which has made it hard for me to surrender to the story.

The story is inspiring, though. Elizabeth sets off on a journey of self-discovery – leaving everything behind and moving to Italy. I can relate to that. I’ve done that (though, I moved to Edmonton, which is hardly as romantic). I packed up my car and headed west where an old friend and a windowless room in a basement waited to welcome me. I had no savings, no job prospects, and no idea what I was going to do when I got there. It was incredibly liberating.

I think this book will grow on me the more I read it. There are definitely some passages that will stick with me. I especially like the discussion about the word on the street of a city and how that evolved into Elizabeth wondering what word encompassed her. It made me really think about what my word is.

I appreciate Gilbert’s willingness to be vulnerable and to expose herself. That she talks freely about her depression is admirable and courageous. I look forward to reading about India and hope that I can learn something from Elizabeth’s spiritual journey. Stay tuned for Eat Pray Love – India.

Yesterday, I watched this post by Maria at amotherworld.com and thought Great idea! I’m going to do that for my next post (because I haven’t really been inspired to write lately).

I thought it would be easy. One take… maybe two. It turns out that it’s not as easy as it looks. Dozens of takes later, I had nothing. It was impossibly difficult for me to articulate my thoughts while talking to my computer. A backspace button on my mouth would have helped.

I didn’t want to waste my hours of effort (which I wish was an exaggeration), so I decided to share my adventures in vlogging with you.

These are the best takes (of too many). Enjoy!

So, there you have it. I guess I’m not quitting my day job any time soon.

Phone calls, texts, Facebook and Skype
Feeling like I’m always on call
The expectation of an immediate response
The problem of always being connected

We humans have come so far
From telegraph, pony express, snail mail
Is it too much? Binding us.
The problem of always being connected

Can’t leave the house without cell
Same message on cell and home
Why didn’t you answer your phone?
The problem of always being connected.

No moments I can’t be reached
Feeling attached, connected, bound, on call
Should leave my cell at home
The problem of always being connected

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This is a Six Word Friday post. The topic this week is feeling.

After reading Hand Wash Cold by Karen Maezen Miller, quite a few passages stuck with me. I have written about one of them before in Even monkeys can raise their young! In that post, I promised that I would dedicate more than one post to the book – posts by topic instead of one post about the book as a whole. This is the second installment.

The Kitchen: To Study Oneself Is to Forget Oneself, without a doubt, was the section of the book that inspired me the most. It gave me much needed perspective of my life and how I assign worth.

I literally stopped reading and just sat thinking for a long time after I came across this in chapter 14:

Each day I do the dirty work, the effort that attracts no notice but my own, and in this very place I find ordinary ingredients for genuine fulfillment.

It starts the moment my eyes open, as I rise with the sun to sort and stack the dishes, appreciating this simple task as the essential start to a healthy day. Chopping the blemished fruit for breakfast, savouring the taste of my own usefulness. Emptying full hampers without resentment or commentary.

I needed to find my way to that perspective. Domestic tasks have always been chores to me. I have always avoided doing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming, dusting… cooking! I have dreaded doing all those things and haven’t found joy or fulfillment in any of them. Although I valued having a healthy home for myself and my family, I did not assign worth to the process. Quite the opposite. I resented it.

I have always been a fiercely independent woman. To a fault. I think a lot of women of my generation make that claim. We feel the need to assert our independence and prove our worth in this world. We have been taught that we don’t need someone else, especially a man, to take care of us. With that, I think that we have been conditioned to resent being expected to take care of a partner.

I had been clinging to my resentment believing that it empowered me – believing that it protected me from falling into antiquated gender roles and surrendering to social expectations. It did none of those things. The truth is that it owned me. It rendered me powerless and governed not only the state of my house, but the dynamics of my household. It was powerful.

By releasing my resentment, I allow myself the freedom to find pleasure in nourishing my family and providing a healthy environment for us. With the resentment gone, I can assign worth to the process and I can acknowledge the value and the power of my self.

I can now focus on savoring the taste of my usefulness and enjoying doing for those in my family – not only for their sakes, but for mine.