carlybish.com

Here I Go!

2009-04-24T11:00:00.003-04:00

"Hello!"*
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Got some upcoming changes to carlybish.com in the approaching weeks.

I'm graduating on May 8 with my degree in Communication Studies and a minor in Religion. I only recently discovered I earned a minor, which goes to show how involved I've been in my schooling during the last few semesters. I just thought they were required classes and it turns out they were more than that! Huzzah!

You might be wondering what possible changes might be coming to the site and I don't mind hinting. In fact, I've been hinting at this idea for a few years, I just never had the time, money, or energy to make it happen until now. With one more tuition reimbursement on its way from Starbucks, I'll be able to fund some of these changes I've talked about in the past. I would like this to be somewhat of a surprise, so I won't give everything away. Just look for a new look, a new "slant", and a bigger focus. Overall, I think you're really going to enjoy it.

If you are still reading, thank you. I always kept the site running because I knew I'd be using it more someday. The last few years have been tough with school and work but I'm ready to get creative, which is who I am. So stay tuned and keep checking your RSS feeds!

Story Time!

2009-04-03T14:00:00.001-04:00

Spring Break Photos.19
Originally uploaded by carlybish

What I'm about to describe is like a really funny Arrested Development episode. Of course, as it was unfolding, I took it pretty seriously, but as I retell the story, the reaction I get is laughter, even from myself. Still, I hope you can imagine, if you were in my shoes, how frustrated and angry you would be if this same thing happened to you.

Okay.

First, let me say that stealing is one of my most hated petty crimes. I experienced theft for the first time while I was in high school when someone decided they liked a sculpture I made in art class enough to steal it. I never saw it again. I worked exceedingly hard on that sculpture and at the time, my heart was broken over how someone could just steal it. To me, they didn't just steal the sculpture. They stole my hard work and the time I invested into it. So stealing it like that does not compute in my own brain because I cannot look at something with someone else's name on it and think, I want that so I'm going to take it.

If you've read earlier posts, you also might remember how I responded when George's toolbox, which my dad bought for him with brand new tools, was stolen out of the back of my car. Part of that was our responsibility because we accidentally left the tools in the car while the car was at a mechanic's shop. But regardless of the circumstances, they were stolen and I was pissed! We ended up taking the mechanic to court and settled on $400 retribution to purchase replacement tools. I was thankful to get anything back at all!

And this brings me to our most recent experience. While in Seattle, George and I asked a friend to stay in our apartment, to care for "Hazey Jane" and to bring in the mail. Before we left, I had purchased an iPod Nano from Amazon.com that would sync with the Nike shoes that George had bought me for my birthday. I purchased both in hopes to keep track of my workouts, especially my running, since I've been training for several 5K races. I bought the iPod on February 15 and it did not arrive by the time we left on March 6. I told our friend to look for it in the mail because March 10 was the last day for it to arrive. March 10 came and went and the iPod never showed, so I was forced to contact the seller through Amazon and inform them the product I purchased never got there. I was frustrated, but it was the sender's fault for not sending it with a tracking number and Amazon had a purchase guarantee, so I knew I'd get my money back.

On top of never getting the iPod, the morning we left for Seattle, I realized I'd left my phone at my sister's house in Queen Anne. There was no time for us to get it before going to the airport, so my sister said she would mail it to us.

After getting back to our apartment, I went through our mail again and saw there was nothing of real importance in there. Not even bills or statements. It was all junk. I was a little surprised at this but I still didn't think much more about it.

A couple day after being home, George decided he wanted to purchase a new racket because he loves to play racquetball at school. He made the purchase online and ordered it 3-day mail with UPS. On the sixth day, when it still had not arrived, George contacted the seller and they contacted UPS, who confirmed they had delivered the racket to our address three days prior.

At this point, my sister had sent my phone priority mail and I should have received it by this time. But I hadn't. I could stop wondering, What is going on with our mail?

Since George discovered the racket had been delivered, he decided to ask our neighbors if they had seen any packages floating around the building. The first neighbor he spoke to, Jennifer, said she hadn't seen any package but that she had been missing mail. For example, her grandmother sent her a birthday card with $100 but she never got it. George then went to the neighbor across the hall and who also happens to have all our mailboxes located just outside her door.

I have to preface this regarding this particular neighbor. Her name is Penka (pronounced, "Pinka") and she is mentally challenged and lives on disability. She has a "mentor" named Marcia whose phone number I had because of the times we had trouble with Penka. Sometimes, Penka would be caught smoking inside her apartment and other times, she had tantrums, screaming and pitching fits that everyone could hear. So having Marcia's number had come in handy when Penka was being disruptive.

When George went to ask her about his racket, Marcia was with Penka but excused herself to the bathroom. Penka stood at the door and George asked her about the racket.

"Penka, have you seen a package from Racquetball Depot anywhere around the building?"

"I didn't take it!"

This was Penka's immediate response. George didn't quite know how to react, but being the sweet guy he is, simply said, "I don't think you took it. I was just wondering if you'd seen a package..."

Penka started to fumble with her response, "Oh, um... I saw a package, but, um, I didn't take it. I didn't take it."

"Okay, okay," George said. "If you see it, will you come and tell me?"

Penka nodded and George went back to our apartment. Only one hour later, Jennifer, the neighbor who lives across the hall from Penka, came to our door to let George know there was a racket in it's case sitting on the radiator outside Penka's door.

At this time, I was at work. George called me to let me know everything that had transpired. And I finally--FINALLY!--put it all together.

"George, what about the iPod? And my phone?!"

"Oh my gosh!" The lightbulb came on for George just then.

That's when I called our landlord, Nicholas. After talking with Nicholas, it was a tough situation because we were accusing a girl with a disability of committing a felony! Still, I was bound by determination to prove that she was stealing residents' mail because as long as she lived there, she had perfect access to continue to do so!

The next day, on several different occasions, I went to Penka's door and knocked. I was ready to confront her about the stolen stuff. However, she refused to come to the door. I knocked and knocked and I could hear nothing. But I knew she was inside because she is known for not having a car and for being home all day. After four or five separate attempts at talking to Penka, I finally called Marcia, her mentor. I explained to her what had happened when George asked Penka about the racket and told her about the iPod and my phone. Marcia wrote all the information down and assured me that she would "turn that apartment inside out" looking for our things. I was so glad that Marcia believed what I was telling her and decided to confront Penka herself.

Which she did. Less than an hour later, Marcia arrived. Penka finally answered her door when Marcia knocked. I couldn't help listening in the on confrontation. Penka began to yell that she hadn't done anything wrong but 20 minutes into the confrontation, I could hear Penka ask Marcia, "Am I going to get in trouble? Am I going to get in trouble?"

George and I live upstairs in our building and we have a good view of the next door's yard. We could hear Penka and Marcia walk through our building's hall to go outside. George was getting dressed for work and watched Penka through the window as she went to the neighbor's yard, pushed some leaves and dirt out of the way, pulled something out, cleaned it with her shirt and hand it to Marcia.

It was my phone! She BURIED MY PHONE OUTSIDE IN THE DIRT! On top of that, it had been raining all day! George looked at me, shocked, and exclaimed, "She had your phone! She buried it outside! She took your phone!"

At this point, even we were laughing about everything that was taking place. I couldn't take any more so I finally went downstairs to see Marcia and Penka. I told Marcia that I was the one who called and Penka's, whose eyes were filled with tears, stared at me in disbelief. Marcia told her to give me my things. Penka retreated into her apartment and came out with the iPod and the case it came in. I proceeded to tell her that we saw how the phone had been buried outside and probably wouldn't continue to work, so I would have to buy a new one. Marcia assured me that Penka would compensate everyone she stole from, including Jennifer, whose birthday card and $100 she took. Along with my phone, iPod, and George's racket, she had also taken a shirt that Jennifer bought online, two CDs another neighbor had ordered, and a birth certificate, which she threw away because she didn't know what to do with it!

Needless to say, Penka was evicted and moved out of our building earlier this week. I purchased the same model phone I had before, which was $382 retail.

Luckily for us, we've already received a check to pay for the phone and Jennifer was compensated as well. We've officially decided to get a PO box and to keep much better tabs on the mail we're expecting to receive.

Penka is extremely lucky that no one wants to press charges. Stealing and tampering with other people's mail is a federal crime and in her case, she'd probably end up in some type of institution. I am going to inform the local postal services about the situation so they are aware of her history, but only to protect anyone else who lives in close quarters with her.

She couldn't explain why she stole anything. I figure she couldn't get my phone to work and that's why she buried it outside... I'm really glad she didn't throw it away or flush it down the toilet.

So that's the story. I hope you enjoyed it. And I hope and pray you never have to go through it. Or if you do, it's as humorous as our experience. At least I got a new phone out of the deal and a story to tell for years to come.

Speaking of Ground Hog's Day...

2009-02-11T22:33:00.001-05:00

Real Snow!
Originally uploaded by carlybish

The picture was taken on February 2nd. I woke up that morning and the biggest flakes of snow I've seen since 2004 were looking for places to land. I had the day off too, so I thoroughly enjoyed lying in bed until the wee hours of the afternoon, playing with my camera and watching the view outside. It was not a typical sight considering how often we associate "Ground Hog's Day" with routine and repetition.

Most days, I function the same way. I wake up, I eat breakfast, I go to class or I go to work. Sometime during the day, I visit the gym. I eat five small meals throughout the day. I see George at the end of the night, after he gets home from work, we watch something we DVR'd and then we go to bed.

Done.

And I don't really mind being on this daily route of activities. As far as I'm concerned, I see the light at the end of the tunnel; Seattle is in sight. Meanwhile, I've made myself into my own personal project. I'm working on myself. I'm improving. I'm discovering what I'm capable of, which turns out to be a lot more than I ever thought!

In just over three weeks, George and I will fly back to Seattle. Our first visit in just over one year. We were in Seattle last year during spring break and we'll be there again this year. It's going to be a bit crazy this time around. One, because the last time I saw my one and only darling niece, she was three months old. This time, she's going to be one year and three months old! Quite the difference! And two, no one has seen me since I started personal training in August. That's seven months of working out diligently! I'm very curious to whether family or friends will notice the change in my form. Sometimes, I think I notice it in myself, other times, I wonder where there's change? Either way, I really hope they're impressed with my progress. I thrive on good feedback. George gives it to me all the time--which I love!--but he sees me everyday. It's different when it's said by someone you haven't seen in a long time!

And I'm not sure how to tie in the rest of what I want to say, so I'm just going to make a list of random things:

- This past Sunday, we had our friend Robert come over for breakfast. He was only there for about 30 minutes, but in that short amount of time, we had a really nice talk, laughed, and shared some thoughts about God and I really felt connected. It was SO nice!

- Someone I only "kinda" know tagged me in a note on FaceBook about lukewarm Christians and I got really defensive based on a past conversation this person and I had. At first, I was really angry and offended and now I just feel guilty.

- I was sick with walking pneumonia about two weeks ago, but I'm still going to go through the 5K I signed up for on February 28th.

- Our friend Josh (aka "Utah") flies in for a visit tomorrow and will stay with us for about six days! I'm excited to hang out with a good friend.

- So I guess that's mostly it. I'd like to vent more frustrations, but I'm afraid of who reads this, so I'm done for now.

January 16, 1984!

2009-01-24T22:26:00.001-05:00

I'm 25 Years Old!
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Last Friday, I turned 25 years old. Believe it or not, I started this silly blog when I was 17. Hard to believe, right?

I was 20 years old when I first arrived to southeast Tennessee. So much has changed in just five years since I moved here. I transferred to a new university, my heart was broken, I got a job at Starbucks, I met George and began to mend my heart... And a lot more. Who knows what will take place before we move back to Seattle in just little over one year from now?

When it hit me that I was actually turning 25, I struggled with the idea a bit. For me, this means I'm completely out of the "relatable" range of those between the ages of 17-22 and can now only relate to people between the ages of 23-29. It's like every time an 18-year-old girl starts working at Starbucks, the maternal button gets pushed and I get really protective and advice starts spewing forth without restraint! I use phrases like, "I was your age not too long ago!" and "Trust me, I've been there! I know what it's like!" And while they totally respect and honor my "vast" years of experience, they still think their situation is the exception to my rule. Which it isn't, but...

Regardless, I've adjusted to the idea of being 25. I've got some good things going for me at the moment, which makes this easier. I'm in my last semester at Lee University! I'm only taking two classes, so compared to past semesters, I feel like I have a lot more time to do things I love. I just got a new lens with birthday money I received--Thanks, Mom!--and I'm looking forward to doing more portraits and engagements. I'm also working out at least 1-2 hours a day and I'm feeling great! I've started training for my first 5K and I'm excited to see where that leads. So a lot of cool things!

I still feel like God is far away, but I keep holding on to this hope that one day, we'll be close again. I take the responsibility of not doing what I should be doing more often--reading my bible, praying, going to church--but I honestly feel like none of those things would help right now. George has been to three different churches in the last month and none of them impressed him enough to want to take me back. More than anything, I wish I could get together every week with a few close friends to just talk about God and the crap we've dealt with the past week. There's something about being broken and meeting with other broken people to submit to our brokenness and ask for God's help.

I'm in transition. I have been for nearly five years now. And I'm almost ready to accept this period of suspension as a part of who I am. Before, I wanted to get out of this place and forget it ever existed, but as much pain as I've experienced here, there's no way I could forget the things that were good. I wouldn't even be surprised if I came back to visit.

Will Paint For Food.

2008-12-01T03:42:00.004-05:00

Will Paint For Food.

When I moved out of my parents’ house, I was 19 years old and had no idea how I would pay my bills. Other than the occasional babysitting gig, the only job I could get was as a retail clerk in an organic dog food shop, working a mere 16 hours per week at minimum wage. Rent was $400 and I didn’t even want to think about utilities, cable, or grocery expenses. Being on my own was the result of my own free will, naive and ignorant as it was, but it was a choice I made against the advice of my parents. I found myself suffering from idyllic thoughts of surviving on my own, scraping by, and leading the life of a “starving artist.”

And I did starve.

But sometime between bagging doggie treats and chew toys and being “babysitter” a couple nights a week, I started painting. A lot. Not a day went by when I didn’t have paint somewhere on my elbows, knees, and inevitably, my hands. For hours, I would sit in the middle of my living room floor with brushes, towels, and cardboard slats covered in acrylic paint of every color. Eventually, the colors would blend together to form different shades of brown, but the result would always be an original work of art. I painted every spare minute I had and then I would sell my work.

On Ebay.

And they would sell! People from all over the country, in various parts of the world, would bid and outbid for my paintings! That’s right, ladies and gentleman! My paintings can be found in states like California, Texas, Michigan, Florida, Virginia, New Jersey, and foreign countries like Canada and New Zealand! So yes! One of my paintings might be mounted in a doctor’s office that you visit, in a bank where you have an account, in a house of your friend, or maybe in your own home! I often wonder if I’ll happen upon my work while traveling or taking a vacation. I wonder if I would recognize it if I saw it. And what if, decades from now, someone takes my artwork to the Antique Roadshow and they learn the two dollars they spent on their neighbor’s painting at a garage sale was an investment worth thousands?!

It could happen, right?

Thoughts of being the “next Picasso” aside, the babysitting, dog food selling, and paintings on EBay was enough to pay all my expenses during my first year as an independent. So sufficient, in fact, that I would even have a handful of change leftover! I ate like a canary and lived like a gypsy, but I would not have changed it for my own condo or personal chef! I didn’t want luxury! I loved my sketchy apartment where only half the electrical wall sockets worked and with carpet that smelt like cat pee! Because I was living more than I ever had before. Everyday felt like a white canvas, one that I could paint in any and all the colors I wanted! Some days were abstract, others felt like self portraits, but everyday was a chance for art and self reflection. I wanted to paint the whole world with colors from my soul’s palette! I wanted to leave my signature in the corner of each day’s canvas, to call it mine, my own, a complete original work of art...

By me.

My "Mona Lisa" Is A Guy Named Derek.

2008-11-28T18:36:00.003-05:00

My "Mona Lisa" Is A Guy Named Derek.

“Take a picture of my pecker!” the man slurred at us.

“No, Derek! No!” the woman shouted, simultaneously amused and concerned.

The two clung to each other as they walked a short distance ahead of us on a street in downtown Seattle. Fireworks continued in the distance while lines of toilet paper soared over our heads and empty beer bottles rolled down the sidewalk. Cars piled into the streets, one right after the other, honking and blaring into the new year. We strolled along, taking pictures of the city, the happy chaos of everyone around us, and feeling like the only two sober people within a 10-mile radius.

My friend, Ryan, and I had ventured into Seattle specifically to take pictures of people celebrating. For me, photography was new and I was still figuring it out. As I learned more during my last year of high school, I grew increasingly fascinated with photojournalism. Meeting people all over the world and listening to their stories started to feel like a calling! So on this particular night, Ryan and I were feeling ambitious as we photographed drunk “crazies” who probably wouldn’t remember us in the morning!

“Derek, stop!” the woman shouted at her friend again. Now she was getting frustrated. “We need to get you back to your apartment!”

“No way!” Derek protested. “These people want to take a picture of my pecker!”

Derek whirled around and wobbled in front of us. As he barely stood up straight, he asked us one more time if we wanted to--ahem--take his picture. Ryan looked at me as if to ask, Should we? I looked up at him in girlish fear and bashfulness. At that, Ryan replied to the man, “Why not?”

What felt like minutes of anguish was, in fact, a mere 30 seconds while Derek struggled with the zipper of his jeans. Watching him, I wondered if the next gust of wind might knock him over. I aimed my camera, focusing the lens on anything above his waist. His eyes appeared closed, like he was sleeping. The corner of his mouth had a slight crook in the corner, as if he might burst out laughing at any moment. But even in his stupor, I was charmed by his uninhibited vulnerability and blatant humanness. Maybe he wouldn’t act this way without the alcohol, but strangely, I was overwhelmed with compassion for this random guy we met on the street.

His friend stood off to one side, clearly battling her own buzz, but even more embarrassed by her friend.

“I’m really sorry about this,” the woman said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ryan replied in genuine consolation. After all, we both knew this was going to make a great story to tell our friends later!

Eventually, Derek managed to unzip and posed for us, pants down, like a nude model in front of a group of art students. Of course, if this had been a still-life exercise, we all would have failed because of the model’s inability to hold a pose! Regardless of the circumstances, we lifted our cameras and clicked enough times to satisfy Derek and he pulled his pants back up to his waist.

Derek took a cigar from his jacket, bit into it and through clenched teeth, exclaimed, “Now, that’s what I’m talking about!”

He barely finished buttoning before he began trudging down the street again, his feet lacking any sense of direction while keeping one arm draped over the woman he was with before.

I stood there, watching the two continue on their staggered journey. “What just happened?” I asked Ryan.

He grinned, “A man just flashed us.”

“I think it was a little more than that,” I said, but I wasn’t referring to Derek.

“Happy New Year!” Derek called out to us.

“Yeah, thanks!” his woman-friend added, probably because of our willingness to indulge him.

“The pleasure’s all ours!” Ryan yelled back with a wave.

And he was right about that much. That moment was truly ours to be had.

My Disney World.

2008-11-13T14:15:00.004-05:00

(This is the first short essay for my project. I have an Intro page, but it needs more work. But I don't want to keep anything that IS complete from my clammering readers! So enjoy this first essay. And comments are welcome and encouraged!)

My Disney World.

In 1994, I was a fifth grader and like everyone else in my class, had seen The Lion King about six times during the summer. Even as a 10-year-old, I was captivated by the artistic skill possessed by the movie’s illustrators. The colors in the sunrise during the opening scene, the way the birds flew in the sky--every detail made me forget it was animation. Inspired, I knew when I grew up, I wanted to be an artist for Disney Studios, but I had to start practicing right away!

I collected The Lion King cards from Burger King kid’s meals and practiced drawing “Simba”, “Timon” and “Pumba” for hours in my room. I never tired of my parents’ reaction to each completed sketch, their disbelief and puzzlement.

“Without tracing?” my mom would ask.

“Nope!” I beamed. I was even impressed with myself.

Around this same time, an artist from Disney came to Seattle for a conference. Without hesitation, my mother drove me and a folder overflowing with drawings to where this man was speaking. When we arrived, I found myself speechless and awestruck as I stood just three feet away from him. As he spoke, my thoughts floated away and I imagined how this man might respond to the sight of my artwork.

“You did these yourself?” he asked in my dream. “YOU?”

I would, of course, maintain my youthful modesty to such a question with a simple nod.

Then he would exclaim to everyone in the room, “I’m sorry, ladies and gentleman! I must leave immediately to take this young lady to Disney Studios! Her talent is undeniable and must be harvested!” Taking my hand, he would escort me to his limo outside. We would drive to the airport, our flight bound for Orlando, as I was destined to become the youngest Disney illustrator ever!

Of course, the man from Disney did not take me back to Orlando with him, but he did look at my folder of drawings and even gave them a compliment or two. His response was more than enough to fuel my passion. So I drew constantly, studied Disney characters, and checked our mailbox everyday for letters from Disney Studios. Surely, they’ll send for me any day, I thought to myself. Any day...

My aspirations remained the same until my sixth grade year, when they abruptly ended. Our teacher brought a video camera and recorded each student confessing their deepest desires. She said when we were really, really old and returned for reunions, we would watch the video and muse over our childhood dreams. So after stammering into the camera about being an artist for Disney someday, an eavesdropping fellow student dropped a bomb.

“You know when we’re grownups, cartoons will only be made by computers,” he said bluntly, like a direct punch to my abdomen.

“No, they won’t!” I said defiantly. But the seed of doubt was already planted, my dreams suddenly uncertain like they never were before.

I raced home.

I checked the mailbox.

No letter.

No matter! I refused to recognize the validity of a malicious boy’s comments. I would not give up on my vocational dreams! I would draw, draw, draw and soon, very soon, a letter from Disney would arrive offering me a position. Or a man with a limo would arrive on my front door urgently seeking my profound tutelage! Nothing would deter me from pursuing my dream as a Disney illustrator because I knew, for a fact, animated movies would always be made by hand and never by digital pixels that strip away the real craftsmanship and artistry of animated film!

Six weeks later, Disney released its first computer-generated Pixar film, Toy Story. And still, there was no letter in our mailbox.

The next few posts...

2008-10-25T01:49:00.002-04:00

...will probably be a bit different than what anyone is used to. But I'm not sure anyone is reading much anymore, so it's not a big deal. For the next five or six posts, I'll be using this space for a school homework assignment (Rhetoric for Writers). So don't wig out if the writing seems a little... creative? Thanks!

2008-09-09T13:54:00.001-04:00

Feeling "happy", you might say...
Originally uploaded by carlybish

So far, this semester has been the best yet. Or maybe, it just feels that way because the last two semesters were so, so, so stressful, and this just feels like a relief. I'll take it, regardless, because I'm really enjoying myself.

I ride my bike to class everyday. I'm working out three times a week with a friend who is also a personal trainer and who is giving me a great deal. I'm still working full time, but over the summer, I was able to reenter my old Starbucks, implement some cool changes, and was named "Partner of the Month" because of it. And I know that's cheesy/dumb/whatever, but man, I earned it and I take pride in my hard work. And I know I won't always be with Starbucks, but my work ethic is a good one and it's nice to finally be recognized for that.

In fact, I'm starting to itch for that "new" profession. I'm actually thinking about getting a job with a newspaper or magazine or some article-based website looking for good writers/photographers. I'm thinking about revamping my site so that there are multiple pages, including different tabs for different photographic work--portraits, journalism, weddings, real estate, etc. Maybe turning this thing into an online portfolio of sorts.

We are so close to being done with this place. George is working hard at school and I'm just a New Year away from graduation. Soon as he's finished, we'll pack our things and head west. Hopefully, in the next year.

I hear The Seattle Times calling my name... Or maybe it's Seattle Magazine... I'll take either one...

Julian writes...

2008-08-31T16:54:00.001-04:00

My friend & coworker...
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Sometimes I am a Christian and sometimes I'm not, but something about Jesus is undeniably bound to the way I live, love, and think...and I'm trying to find out just what that means for the way I experience this so-called life. - Julian Suarez

(I hope he won't hate me for sharing this because it's beautifully composed.)

Before!

2008-08-30T16:53:00.002-04:00

Just because I was curious...
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Not going to say a lot about this picture other than it was taken in November 2007. I've lost 33 pounds since then and I've posted some "after" pictures to Flickr. I've uploaded these photos in a couple other places as I've become more aware of what I've accomplished and what I have yet to accomplish.

I'm definitely feeling better about myself and that's worth everything.

This Summer...

2008-08-21T10:03:00.001-04:00

My Kids.
Originally uploaded by carlybish

I mentioned before that I thought this summer might fly by and it did! It's gone already, but I'm kind of relieved... School started yesterday--my second to last semester--and I'm actually looking forward to it. More so than the last two semesters when I thought everyone was mocking me behind my back in class (so high school, I know!). But yesterday, as I walked around campus, I heard my name being called from every direction and I actually felt, well, popular? That's never really happened before... But it was cool. I like knowing people and I like people knowing me. It makes me feel like I can say, "Yeah, man, I've got connections..." and it'd be true! Or something...

However, I cannot disregard the great summer we had. George and I celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary on August 4th, spending time in Atlanta and taking a few days off from work to relax. We also got to visit friends in Franklin,Tennessee (where all the major Christian music artists live, apparently) including Evan, a friend I graduated high school with, and the Reinfeldts, who have relocated there for the Tennessee Titans, which Mike now has a contract with. The Reinfeldt kids are the ones I babysat all those years and who have overcome amazing adversity through Elise's battle with leukemia. She'll be in remission for two years in November! She looks so healthy and beautiful. She amazes me.

These upcoming months will prove fairly interesting and eventful. One of my professors approached me for an independent research study which provides core class credit I need, along with a lot of other things that look great on a resume. I'll be doing a serious photo essay about women who have suffered, or suffer, from domestic violence situations. It includes visiting shelters and safe houses and possibly a women's prison! It's going to be intense, but it's also going to be really enlightening. Not to mention, it's so close to what I actually want to do with my life--finding those amazing stories and producing some really incredible photojournalism. I'll definitely post some of the pictures I take here for you to see. As things progress, I hope to build an online portfolio of some kind and all these pictures will definitely go there.

So while I'm still dedicated to working hard at Starbucks in their management team, I'm feeling more and more confident about pursuing the field of work for which I've pursued an education! Before, I actually thought Starbucks seemed most promising, but making drinks and putting up with customers isn't exactly sounding awesome right now. God's purpose for my life is more than a glorified barista...

I'm not sure how things will play out but I'm feeling really good about this school year. And for me, that's a really great start...

What'd I tell you?!

2008-08-20T00:11:00.001-04:00

George's NEW Tool Box!
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Remember when I said the next time I talked about this, I'd tell you that we'd have George's tools back and blah, blah, blah? Well!

These are George's new tools. When his original tool box--a gift from my dad last Christmas--was stolen out of my car after a visit to the mechanic, we filed a small claim and took it to court. The mechanic actually showed up to the court date and we settled for $400, which we took to Sears and used to replace all the tools George had before AND MORE! Because Sears was having a Craftsman sale!

So, like I said before... This is the second time I've mentioned this and it's just to report that we WON and we definitely learned our lesson! And please, learn from our mistake, and don't leave ANYTHING of value in your car when you leave it in a place where someone has access to the keys!

Farewell "Utah"...

2008-07-21T00:36:00.001-04:00

Farewell to "Utah"... from Carly Chaney on Vimeo.

I've been painting...

2008-07-19T01:11:00.001-04:00

Birds.
Originally uploaded by carlybish

I don't know what happened in the last two weeks, but I've been "in the mood" to paint lately. This is a big deal because I haven't really painted anything or felt confident enough to paint in a very long time. The other night, George asked me to play my guitar because he hasn't heard me play in eons, but when I tried to play, I quickly sensed I didn't have George's interest. Of course, he didn't mean anything negative by it, but I still took it personally and I put the guitar away. When he asked me what was wrong, I broke down a bit and told him how important things like playing the guitar and painting are to me but the last two years stole a lot of my self worth, so if I do either of those things, it's a really big deal!

It's a really big deal... So even though I haven't been playing music lately, the fact that I'm painting at all means I'm going in the right direction. The window painting pictured is the latest thing I've done, but there are a couple more posted to Flickr as well.

Quite frankly, I don't know if I'm any good. I'm not confident in my "gift" as an artist, especially when I see artwork by someone else that blows my mind. However, I do enjoy painting and I hope I'm good enough that people would actually want to buy something from me. I like using brighter colors and I use a more simplistic style, but it's my style and for the most part, I like it.

Eventually, I hope I'm inspired to pick up my guitar again, to write some new songs and to even sing a little. These things are a huge part of who I am and I refuse to give in to whatever this is I'm suffering from (most likely a lack of self esteem).

Oh yeah. And go see The Dark Knight. Heath deserves an Oscar. No doubt.

Kyle & Evan Rave.

2008-06-30T03:54:00.002-04:00

Kyle & Evan Rave.On Vimeo.

Sorry the video is a little sketchy but this is, otherwise, completely brilliant.

In Boston, Presently.

2008-05-24T20:25:00.001-04:00

Sitting in the original "Cheers".
Originally uploaded by carlybish

I've been here for over a week now. It's been pretty great so far, except I got sick tonight. It must be the weather in Boston, because several others in our group have already been sick with a sore throat and I thought I'd managed to dodge it, but... Anyway, I'm spending most of my time in my youth hostel bed right now, working on homework, trying to finish it all before the trip is done. That's right, homework. May I remind you this is a trip designated by my university and therefore, does not really feel or act like a vacation.

Although, we did get to go whale watching yesterday and that was pretty cool. Unlike the experience George and I had on our honeymoon, this time it was humpback whales instead of killer whales. And they are large. Comparatively.

Just thought I'd give you all a minor update. George comes back from Ukraine on Monday, and even though I don't get back from Boston until Friday, I am looking forward to getting to talk to him on the phone--really, TALKING--for the first time in a month!

Never thought I'd say this, but I am looking forward to getting back to Tennessee. Not that I don't really like Boston, as it is a big city and you all know how much I dig big cities! But I miss being at home with my husband.

Cheesy, I know. So sue me.

This is My Husband-Face.

2008-05-11T23:35:00.001-04:00

George, after working on my car...
Originally uploaded by carlybish

George has been gone for almost one week now. It has felt much longer. I am SO. BORED.

Believe it or not, George being gone seems the least of my anxieties right now.

Summer school has provided a workload I did not expect to be so heavy and I am frantically trying to complete assignments every night after coming home from work.

The most upsetting thing I'm dealing with now ties in with this picture of George, covered in oil from working on my car...

We took my car to a mechanic, who had been referred by another auto place we'd done business with before. We simply needed a small part replaced and while George had tried for many weeks to do it himself, he simply could not find the part on the car that needed replacing. So we took it to this guy...

About four days after leaving the car with the mechanic, we called to follow up and find out if my car was ready for picking up. However, the mechanic replied that he had tried very hard to find the part we'd given him from the dealership, but he couldn't find it and would have to order another. We were a little baffled by the mechanic's inability to keep track of something that we had left on the passenger seat for him, but we were patient and told him we'd call by the end of the week.

When we finally called, we also added how George would be leaving the country very soon and we would need to get the car as soon as it was ready. The mechanic said it would be ready Tuesday, the day before George would fly away. While Tuesday would be very, very busy, we didn't have much choice in the matter and told him we would be there at 3:00 in the afternoon to pick it up.

After dropping George off at the mechanic's lot, I had to leave because I was scheduled to be at work in less than an hour. While driving to work, George called and said, "He didn't charge us anything because it took so long!" Of course, I felt like that was fair, considering he'd kept our car nearly two weeks and it was only expected to take about three or four days.

Later that night, after getting home from work, George was busily packing to leave at 5:30 in the morning, which was only a few hours away. Eventually, he had to go out to my car to look for anything he might need to pack. He was out there for quite a while...

When he came back into the apartment, I saw a look on George's face I had rarely ever seen. It was an angry expression and it even took him a while to say anything when I asked him, "What? What's wrong?!"

"They took my tools," he said.

I was stunned. George had been working on the car for weeks and had been keeping the tools locked in the back of my car instead of carrying the heavy thing back and forth to our apartment, which is upstairs. The tools were a very expensive gift from my dad, who wanted George to have these tools for doing exactly what he had been doing--fixing stuff. George had never owned anything that wasn't a hand-me-down, so for him to receive a gift worth nearly $450, he was extremely grateful and proud of what he had.

No wonder he was so angry. Later, we discovered the ashtray, which had a few stray dollars in it, was also gone. And then, it dawned on me the part we'd ordered from the dealership which the mechanic couldn't find was probably something that had been taken as well.

Because George was leaving so soon, we knew we had to file the report as quickly as possible, despite how late it was. We called the justice department and met with a police officer in their parking lot. After explaining the situation thoroughly about three times, we were finally able to return home.

Since then, I have returned to the mechanic's lot and explained to him the situation. He says the items were never in the car because he never saw them. However, he also said that he didn't enter our car until a few days after we had left it with him, so who's to say someone who worked there didn't get into it?

"That's impossible," the mechanic told me. "These boys have worked for me for more than 10 years. They couldn't do it."

"But they had access," I told him.

"They didn't do it," he was getting very defensive.

When I inquired about his insurance, he said he didn't have any. So I gave him the receipt of things that were in the toolbox, amounting to the worth of the toolbox and the tools inside, and asked him to get back to me within the week. He said nothing had ever been stolen in the 23 years he'd been running his business, but I didn't back down. I just told him to contact me by Monday.

Which is tomorrow. So this is my current predicament. I'm planning on leaving early next Saturday morning for Boston and so I'm trying to get this taken care of now, even while George isn't around to help. Either way, if I have to take the guy to small claims court, I will, because I absolutely HATE that someone there took George's tools.

I swear, stealing is one of those things that makes me most angry. You can't help feeling taken advantage of and in some way, condescended to.

I don't give up easily. Just watch. Next time I write about this, you'll see a picture of the toolbox, safely back in our possession.

Codependency 101.

2008-05-06T11:53:00.002-04:00

Making out in front of the photographer...
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Since we started dating--again--in October of 2006, George and I have been inseparable. Not really in the annoying way, either. Because honestly, we spend a great majority of the day apart. But neither of us has gone away or been apart in distance since we got married last August and even before then. That said...

George leaves tomorrow morning, very early, for three weeks in the Ukraine.

Without me.

My trip to New England overlaps his trip part of the time, but not entirely. And quite honestly, I'm almost intimidated to go anywhere without him. I don't like the idea of experiencing a new place without him or vice versa.

But we have to go, so we're going. Just not together...

I'm such a co-dependent now! What happened to me?!

Robert's Party.

2008-05-03T03:52:00.002-04:00

So I'm Kind of Excited.

2008-05-02T20:11:00.001-04:00

Coy?
Originally uploaded by carlybish

I have this feeling like summer is going to fly by. What with summer school, and cross-cultural trips, and work--I really think it's going to feel like it's over before we even realize it. And that makes me excited because then, fall semester will start, and thus begins the beginning to the end of my college education. Although, I do plan on taking a class or two post graduation (to finish my writing minor), I will otherwise have my degree and won't have to bother with it anymore.

After I graduate, I'll finally be able to work more, save more, and possibly pursue the things I'm more passionate about. Like photography. I'm going to save for the widest angle lens on the market and tackle real estate photography--inspired by my sister, who is a real estate agent in Seattle--and see if I can supplement my income substantially. Eventually, when George has finished school, I hope to have saved enough for us to cover the expense of moving back to Seattle. Right now, I'm estimating it to cost somewhere around $5000 total. And that's if we move straight into an apartment instead of moving back in with my parents first. I might make $5000 the goal and still move back in with my parents, just to get on our feet first. They've acknowledge that it's a likelihood but we all know none of us want it to be for very long. I love my parents and they love me, but we like our privacy and space.

I know where we'll be moving to and I've scouted a number of Starbucks in the neighborhood, where I can eventually transfer. The location is about 15 minutes from my parents' house, about 15 minutes from Seattle, and literally down the street from the local Park&Ride bus station.

I'm just excited about it. I'm thrilled that I can start making plans now. Even though it's still a solid year and a half or more away, we're going to get the ball rolling now so by the time George has finished with school, we'll only need to tie some loose ends and then head out west.

I came out here in October of 2004 and probably won't leave until winter of 2009 or summer of 2010. I have learned a lot about myself and I was definitely meant to be here. But I'm tired and I'm hungry for something new and even though we'll be going back to Seattle, I know it has a brand new chapter to offer our lives. And for that, I am kind of excited.

Blockbuster.

2008-05-01T19:28:00.002-04:00

I'm not trying to impress anyone. This is who we are.

Torture.

2008-04-29T15:39:00.003-04:00

If any of my "readership" desires to see anything in particular, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Another Ending, Some New Beginnings...

2008-04-26T22:55:00.001-04:00

Curry Jones Wedding 013
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Christy-Anne, my best friend in Tennessee and the bridesmaid who caught the bouquet at my wedding, married Ed, who was a groomsman in my wedding and who also caught the garder! Their wedding ceremony was this last Saturday and I was in the bridal party. It was beautiful to watch and I was proud of the fact that I was the one who introduced them to each other. Coincidentally, I've known Ed longer than I've known Christy-Anne, but I knew they were perfect from the moment they got together. Even funnier is how Ed told me he wasn't the "marrying type" when I was first getting to know him. How wrong he was!

While I was totally enamored by how gorgeous Christy-Anne was on Saturday, I also felt pretty special. Simply because I wasn't self conscious about what I was wearing and I truly felt like one of the "skinny girls". I've lost more than 30 pounds now and I'm the same size as when I was in middle school. Walking down the aisle alone was not the nerve wrecking experience it would have been in the past. There wasn't a moment when I wasn't totally in tune with what was happening during the ceremony. Normally, I would have been so preoccupied with how I felt in my dress or how I looked that I would have missed everything going on around me. No one seems to really get that...

So now, the spring semester has nearly finished. My last final is on Monday. About a week after that, summer school starts and a lot of things will be taking place... Things I'm dreading and also looking forward to.

We have to take our cross-cultural trip. Originally, I had posted about a trip to London for communications majors at school. Well, the trip was too expensive, no one signed up, and it was canceled. So I had to sign up for the English majors trip to New England (Boston, Baltimore, Pittsburgh), which is cheaper and domestic but requires I take classes that benefit my degree in no way, shape or form. Regardless! I'm going. And that's that. During the same time I'll be in New England, George will be leaving the country for his education majors trip to Ukraine where he'll be teaching Ukrainian orphans how to speak English.

So, in other news, I had a dream two nights ago that I got a 12 week old puppy and then went into the hospital, found out I was pregnant, and had a baby a couple seconds later. When I woke up and told George about it, I said, "Now I kinda wish I had a puppy..." And then I noticed how I didn' t say that I wanted a baby. And I thought that was funny.

So... Here comes another hot, humid summer. At least I don't have to hesitate about wearing tank tops and shorts this summer. That's a first!

It's funny...

2008-03-16T00:11:00.003-04:00

It's funny...
Originally uploaded by carlybish

Have you seen the new Dunkin' Donuts commercial where they indirectly mock Starbucks and the descriptions for their drinks--is it French or is it Italian? And then, the narrator says at the end, "Dunkin' Doughnuts: Order your latte in English."

But... "Latte" is an Italian word...