Eating well

When I told my sister that my Theradate was taking me to Oleana, she rapidly fired a series of questions at me:

"How did you get him to agree to take you there?!"

"Does he know how expensive it is?"

and lastly,

"Is he paying?"

Despite my sister's assumptions about my conniving personality, it was actually entirely his idea. And he turned down my repeated offers to help out with the bill.

I came away with a *very* full belly (the waitress actually warned us we had ordered too much food), as well as a number of mini take-away containers filled with deliciousness. It will be a strange moment tomorrow when I invite my two young friends who I have a lunch date with every Wednesday into my room with their school lunches consisting of hot dogs and baked beans, then whip out my leftovers. "I have mussels with deep-fried hot peppers," I'll say, and give them a small bite to taste, if they're adventurous enough. "Oh, and this? It's a small bird with crunchy bones, called a quail. It's accompanied by toasted pistachios and dried barberries."

Theradating

Though my friend Li'l JC has quite extensive experience in this arena, I had somehow never gone on a date with a therapist -- until last night. Despite hearing her stories, I was not totally prepared for the experience, and was surprised to find myself fielding questions like, "What's your mother's maiden name?" and "It sounds like you had a real connection with your first boyfriend. Would you ever think about trying to make things work with him again?" And in case it isn't obvious from the latter question, I spilled my whole. entire. life. story. on Date 1. What are we going to talk about on Date 2??

It's a little bit like going on a date with my mom, but with Tom Waits hair. (My mom's a therapist, too. And she likes to ask questions. Lots of questions.)

Commissions, commissions

I've been getting lots of commissions lately for my budding craft business.

It's great to get orders, and I'm really flattered when people like my stuff. There have even been a few holiday orders already! But I'm also super, crazy, running-around-like-a-chicken-without-a-head busy these days, and sometimes the orders can feel like one more thing to do.

One order in particular has become something of a thorn in my side. A woman wrote to me on Etsy over the summer: "I love your plant pots! I've been wanting something new for my hoya, Allie. She's getting a little cramped in her current abode, which is 6 inches in diameter by 4 inches tall. Any chance you could come up with something a bit bigger than that?"

I wrote back to say that I could, but it would take some time. Last week, she emailed again to let me know that Allie's roots would really like some more space, and how's her new pot coming? By that point, I had finished attempt #3, which was also my third failure. It's not a hard shape to make, but something about the size requirements of it were throwing me off.

I let her know that it would still be a while, and she told me she would tell Allie to be patient for a few more weeks.

Allie needed me, so even though I wanted to, I couldn't give up. Finally, I sat down at my wheel tonight and gave myself a pep talk. "Heathen, you can do this. It is ridiculous to get your wheel dirty and only throw one pot, but you are going to do it anyway because you will feel so relieved when you are done. Take your time, breathe deeply and remember that you are not allowed up from this wheel until this goddamn plant pot is done."

Twenty minutes later, it was done. Relief is on its way, Allie! (For both of us.)