Thursday, February 25, 2010

little love notes for Amelia on her 30th...

Dear Amelia,

Welcome to your birthday card.  Some people had some things to say so I posted them here for you.  As you'll see, everyone has a name for you.  I don't.  You're just Amelia to me.  I've never been one for nicknames, but of course you already know that.  You already know everything about me.  Tonight we'll celebrate 30 years of you.  30 years of living and loving and laughing.  30 years of crying and raging and learning.  Three decades of this wonderful mess we call life.  I know wishes are meant to be made by birthday boy or girl, but today, I have a few wishes for you, too.

I wish for you eternal, unconditional love. 
I wish for you contentment even in the most discontented moments.
I wish for you bravery and adventure.
I wish for everyone around you to see you how I see you.
I wish for you a cozy place to land every night of your life.
I wish for you something to smile about every day of your life.
And, lastly, I wish for you to remember that, even if I'm not by your side, I always have your back.

I love you.  Happy 30th! Oh, I also wish for you a raise (Hi, Dr. Bob!).  Love, Sarah

Oh, Amelia Bedilla..... I know that you hate that but too freaking bad.  Love you,  Babe. I can't believe you are thirty.  I remember meeting you when you were about 3 at The Children's Center.  I can picture you and Cody and Reed around the May Pole.  It's so cool to still be friends with you and to read your very pithy comments on Facebook.  Have a wonderful birthday.  XOXO   Bernita 

Meels….

30 is the BEST! Revel, Enjoy and Soak up every moment. If you have one instance of deer-in-the-headlights, just go for the PEP TALK, whether I’m there or not…I’ll be “talking you through.”  Much love as you jet across the country! Xxxxx Yakimama

"I love you Money!" -BP

Amelia: Happy 30th!  Wow, feels like only yesterday that we'd ride the
bus home and I'd  struggle through my rendition of When You're Smiling
- trying my best to impress the cute blonde down the street. ;)
Thanks for indulging the Frank Sinatra in me and may your next 30 get
better with every year.  Happy Birthday!

Love,
Stuart

what I wuv about mewia....

I love her hugs.  I love her voice.  i lover her cooking.  I love corndip and frenchdips way too much.  i love her couch.  I love "Money" (Amelia and Blair's pet name for each other).  I love stacks of bowling balls, trampolines, riding lawn mowers, blowing glass, prescriptions, huge belt machines, and good advice.  I love that chick.  Happy 30th Amelia! 

Love, Reed   

Amelia, Amelio, Pursey...

Are we really all turning 30 this year? Can we go back to the Rainbow Room? I still remember going to the street fair and buying peace sign earings together. How could I ever forget camping when we locked my dad out of the van- pure genius. Or hauling your ping pong table into Big R's living room, that was fun! Sunday Funday's just aren't the same as sitting poolside and eating pizza with the gang.

It's been a great 30 years of helping each other grow up, grow through relationships, and grow as friends. I can't wait for the next decades ahead!  If I had a glass (or two), you know I'd be raising it for you today!!!

I hope you have a kick ass birthday! Cheers Amelia!!!

Love ya,
Jordy

I met her once and she was traumatized for life - MCD


Happy 30th, Amelia. You will not remember as you were only four or so, but I met you the first time your parents came to the island. I was at Anelina's bakery/restaurant in the old Soup Coop building when I looked up and saw the most entrancing little girl.  I immediately introduced myself to Cathy and Ro. You looked like a little fairy child, and as soon as I'd found out your age I started thinking, "Hmmmm...she's the same age as Brook...maybe I can get some fairy grandchildren some day." Obviously that didn't work out, but it's been such a delight to watch you grow in size, wisdom, and maturity over the years. I've seen you as a charming tot, as one of The Blondes at SWHS, and as a working young professional at your job. Like all the other parents around, I feel a certain pride in the way you turned out, hoping that it was indeed that "whole village" thing that was at work. You've done well in your first 30 years, so just keep it up!

Lynn Willeford

  
Amelia, can't wait to see you on your big 3-0! Come to the amusement park that is the Twanks! Love you, Beth

Miss Amelia... the little girl who grew into a beautiful lady overnight, it seems.  Named for the pioneer female aviator who broke new ground in her day...our Amelia is equally special and inovative and we surround you with love on this, your special birthday!

Martha Murphy

amelia, did you know "it's matching jammy night at the koa lagoon" ? have a happy birthday! luv barb and ron

When I was your age a gallon of milk was 25 cents... Happy Birthday Amelia!! Stephan

30?! What happened to the sweet, sassy girl who used to keep me in check at Joe's Music? I know you're still sweet, and I'm sure the sass is alive and well, hallelujah!
Happy Birthday Amelia..the real fun is just beginning! - Jason Squire

I remember when Amelia moved into our house when we were kids and she quickly became known as stinky. I've always wondered how she got that name and then it occurred to me that lovley is not only a slant rhyme (which are worshipped in my house), but it also has the same amount of letters; coincidence, I think not. Anyway, I will remember her fondly.
Oh wait she's not dead is she. I just read the thing below. Well, happy birthday instead. I still feel the same way. With love from the Whiney and Neffs--
Andrew 

Amelia is a funny girl 

with a twinkle in her eye.

I love to hear her chuckle 
and hate to see her cry. 

I think about her turning 30 and wonder
can that be true?  
I'm so glad to have her in my life 
since she was only two!

The people you can count on
are few and far between,

Amelia Rose is one of them, so 
Happy Birthday to the Queen! 

I love you Amelia! Honna

Love note for Amelia Rose by Arwen Bouton


I cannot remember a time when Amelia was not part of the family. 

We got to live together for a good minute in a spider-infested, but quaint, little apartment. We were able to make rent and that was about it. Not much ever showed up in the fridge and there was a brown defective oven we used for storage. 

There was a theme of our little apartment, dictated by the man upstairs, not that Man, but an actual human builder/artist. He had created a huge giant concrete heart with railroad stakes driven in at every angle. We hung it over the empty fridge. Huge red heart and rusty railroad ties.  It was a constant reminder that love does exist and sucks you dry and that you can never really ever protect yourself.  

Because we have a heart we must use it and it will without a doubt get nailed and without a doubt this will be a big, fancy can’t-see-straight love.  I am not sure if the Nailed Heart taught me this or if it was getting close to thirty or if it was being grounded in a basement apartment with Amelia by my side.  

Oh the Nailed Heart. We hated it. I love it now.  I should have tried to keep it.  If I had I would have wrapped it up today and given it to the birthday girl.  And if the Bistro was still alive I would have dragged us down there to get our hands greased up on some Bistro Nachos and a few Bob’s Blast Offs.  I would call that the best birthday EVER.  

For my thirtieth birthday Amelia gave me the best present… she came home and announced, “I am on the bus, in fact I am driving the Arwen and Drew bus.” Now it is my turn and I am so on the Amelia bus.  Here comes the best part of your life so hang on and let your heart get nailed by all the love. 

Love, Arwa

Saturday, February 20, 2010

HOUSEWIVES DELIGHT by Phoebe Skye

what i'm listening to this week:

Daniel - Bat For Lashes

Bat For Lashes | MySpace Music Videos



____________________________________________________________________________________________________




and what i'm not listening to this week:

i'm sorry, but is there not enough talent in this room to write a new song?




Friday, February 12, 2010

Housewives Delight by Phoebe Skye



Maybe this weekend isn't just about chocolate and days off. 




I know this is a little two years ago, but it caused me to revisit some feelings I've had about change. A couple days ago, there was a poster up at work, "Presidents Day Kids Camp!" It had the big, smiling face of our president right in the middle. For some reason this just outraged a member. He demanded that it was taken down. The club has a sort of "The customer is always right" attitude towards our members. Well, he isn't right. In 1954, the government declared this date in February a holiday that celebrated all of our presidents. Before that, it had been Washington's Birthday.


I had been obsessing about Sam Cooke all week, knowing that I wanted to blog about him for V-day. He's a heart throb and he wrote my favorite love song, "Bring it on home to me". Researching him, I came across the song, "A change is gonna come". When Sam Cooke was topping the charts and singing to the world, he wasn't allowed to step into many establishments because he was black. He would perform for audiences that were divided down the middle, black on one side, white on the other. That was the 60's! Not so long ago.


I know people will always have huge demands for their leaders, and they should. But let's remember the huge mess our president was handed when he took a stand. And let's not forget how far we've come.




Thursday, February 11, 2010

Sign a cast!

My boss had me looking at all sorts of viral campaigns today.  This is the only one that really stuck.  It's a cute idea for a good cause.  Every time you, or somebody else, "signs" a cast they donate $5.  Look at those faces and try to resist!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Style Snippet



I'd like to thank Amelia for giving one more thing to drool over online.  She called to tell me it was right up my "alley...sweaters, big chunky jewelry and lots of jersey."  Sounds about right.  The weight of a cocktail ring on my cocktail-holding hand is irresistible and they have a whole line of fun ones.  Reminds me of Anthropology, but affordable.  They don't have a big collection, however what they do have, is darling.  And don't worry guys, they have stuff for you too.  








                                        

Friday, February 5, 2010

HOUSEWIVES DELIGHT by Phoebe Skye


Guest Blog by my lovely, talented and (sometimes) wiser older sister,
Phoebe Skye.




Listen.

It's around the corner, and you know it. Now I've heard far too many men say, "We're not that kind of couple", "It's just a commercial bullshit holiday invented by Hallmark" or my favorite one of "I shower you with love and gifts every other day of the year." I'm gonna give a little advice and you know it.

Why not take an hour out of your busy life, in advance, and do the right thing? Like, have something ready that (special) morning instead of, "I'll be right back. I've gotta run some errands."





















Now, my man likes to buy me underwear and this is cool. He enjoys spending time surrounded in panties and we both benefit. He makes sure to choose cute ones that he knows are wearable. He takes the time to think about panty-lines and fibers and stuff. We both love Honeydew Intimates (and so does Nicole Richie).


If you haven't gotten her pants off yet and you want to.... step up. I have the perfect record for you: Bon Iver. Rumor has it, he broke things off with the band and the girl. He then proceeded to hole up in a wintery fishing cabin and compose this breathtaking album. He seems like a guy you'd have a beer with at The Dog House. He also seems like a guy who'd keep you real warm at night.

This is a cozy, evening in, aphrodisiac kind of album. Pair it with prosecco and stormy weather. Don't be downloading it either. Actually get out of the car, into your local record store, and purchase it. Wrap it in red paper (or pink if you are a real man) and hand-deliver it to her on the RIGHT day (it's a Sunday). This results in a win/win situation where you could get lucky, and she's not in tears, on Love Day.

If you have been in her pants and haven't been invited back.... buy both.




Monday, February 1, 2010

You've Got Mail


No one can possibly know what is about to happen: it is happening, each time, 
for the first time, for the only time."
- James Arthur Baldwin


The pavement is smothered in rain and mud and everything else that this week's weather has brought. I have no reason to be grumpy, which is only making me grumpier. My running shoes sit by the door, abandoned, while I tromp around in UGGS and the most comfortable clothes I can find in the heaping pile of laundry I can't seem to find time for. I can't stop eating Oreos and my hair is, well it's not looking its cutest. I run errands, the mud and leaves whip away from my tires. I turn the music up on the playlist that has been on repeat for months and is getting old. I try not to pay attention to the weeping rain that's smashing headfirst into my windshield. I want to go back to sleep.

At the post office, I find nothing I really want and I'm tempted to just ignore it and leave it there. I have no use for another J. Crew catalog or these bills either. Ugh. Onward to the ferry, the very early ferry, to meet Emily and Ashlea for a walk around Greenlake.
The sun is shining and I have a latte in hand. This should help. Emily arrives with little Lucia, two months old now. Ashlea is starting to show and she finds out if she has a boy or girl on the way this week (it's a girl!). The paved loop circling the lake is crawling with hot little post-baby bodies and their cute little offspring. The air is fresh and the chatter is pleasant. I'm pretty sure that if there is a biological clock inside me, this is when the alarm should be sounding. While everybody around me is glowing, I'm just glowering. Great. I'm going to be a horrible mother, or even worse, maybe not a mother at all. I silently convince myself I'll hear the tick-tock when the time is right.

Over to U Village.
"Can I help you find something?"
"Yes, I need two nice leather armchairs for my boss's office and a table to go in between them. Something timeless, please." And an attitude adjustment if you have one of those lying around.
Instead, the salesman gives me way too much information about leather. Can't he see I am in turmoil over absolutely nothing and can't be bothered cluttering my mind with useless information?

I am an optimist. I swear I am. I found a grey hair and decided it was platinum and that my lifelong goal of being a natural blonde was finally coming true. My boss asked me what I thought of a tv show and I answered something like, "I love the song in the opening credits!" This week there is no silver lining. I really just want to go back to bed. I know what you are all thinking. It's not PMS and no, mom, I don't need protein.
I cross over to Queen Anne to see if the cutie comedian can work his magic over coffee. Brian always makes me laugh, and as usual, we banter our way through a couple of hours of bullshitting. He lives in Hollywood. He tells me I need to move to LA. I tell him I will someday, when the time (and job) is right. He's telling me how he can relate to a buddy of his who isn't feeling the long distance thing with his girl. As I listen, I spot an article on the front page of the paper on the wooden table next to us. The headline reads, "Bullet Trains Coming to the U.S." It has me momentarily daydreaming about me on one (or a Virgin America flight), on my way to meet my main. My main squeeze. Whoever he turns out to be, he's waiting for me in the sunshine somewhere.

Brian successfully pulls me out of my rut. He gives me a hug that only tall guys can give and sends me on my way... directly into rush hour. Ugh. Ferry line. Ugh. I obviously need a run, so it's straight to the gym before I can get too comfortable wallowing on the couch.


"Hey stranger!" Ugh.
"Hey!" I feign cheeriness as I keep walking.
The ex standing in front of me is the one of the reasons I'm always exhausted before I even get to the gym. Trying to look cute and "oh so moved on" sucks. It also kind of makes my membership "oh so not worth it" when I am attempting to sweat without sweating. Dressing up in my dressed-down is a real waste of time. I would give up on the whole thing entirely if it wasn't for "gym guy" and "produce boy" (post-workout grocery runs). You know, the ones you flirt with and hope to God you won't see out and about anywhere else (like at a restaurant with their spouse and children). I blow off the ex, who I'm sure thinks my bad mood has everything to do with him (and me having to live without him). I get a small satisfaction knowing he's wrong, and that if I would have met him in any other zip code he probably wouldn't have stood a chance. Tonight I'm running and sweating and breathing hard and it doesn't matter. I won't be in the produce aisle later, anyway. I'll be in the carb aisle.

I wake up hoping for a fresh start. It doesn't feel different yet, but I look in the mirror and remind myself I am an optimist. I check my calendar. Hair at 2pm. This is more like it.
Walking out the door, I hear the comforting chime coming from my computer. I click on the message to see "Music for SF: I hope you enjoy -LB" OK. Now we're talking. A mix! A mix of music made just for me and my abnormally small ears! Music mixes (formally known as the mix cd, formally known as the mix tape) mean so much more than music; I've been waiting patiently for the arrival of this one from a certain someone in Southern Cali for awhile.

Post office for more miserable junk mail. Sitting in my car I start the sort. This one looks official. Shit. Not a lot of good news comes in official looking letters. My business license! We are pleased to tell you that you are now certified to do business in the state of Washington. I am a Sole Proprietress. Something about it makes me smile. Everything is going to be okay. It reminds me why I am here and what I am doing. Next up is a letter from Bend, Oregon. It's a picture from my nephew, Ian, who's four. It's a drawing of me with a dog and a big smile on my face. He spelled my name out alongside his and carefully placed a heart in between the two. I could not love this sweet child more. I close my eyes and my head drops against the headrest. A song from my new mix, So Insane by Discovery, is pulsing through the car, "And I try to get off my knees and try to fight this feeling, but I can't..." All of the sudden I hear something else. There's the tick-tock I was waiting for.