Sunday, September 28, 2008

On the Road....

Oklahoma, here we come!!

Whussat? I don't see anythin.

Neverending Story


If you've seen this movie, then you know that Clyde looks like he is part luck dragon in this picture.

This picture was taken by my beautiful sister in my parent's backyard on my very last day in California. We hit the road before sunrise tomorrow morning!

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Where's my cracker?

This bird-head doodle was found at the bottom of the recycling bin under my desk at work (my former work... yahooie). I didn't draw this, but whoever the artist is, they decided a few things:
1.) This doodle must leave their sight immediately.
2.) This doodle COULD NOT reasonably be discarded at the artist's desk.
3.) This doodle ought to be recycled (obviously earth conscious).
4.) This doodle would go unnoticed if it were put in MY recycle bin.

Think again, sucka!!! Operation Frame Sheasy: EPIC FAIL


Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Karma $$$

I got this in my change the other day:

Karma $$$

I regretted spending it, but DANG, I was hungry. I figured it was best to put it back out into the world to brighten someone else's day.

****As the amount of time I have left in California winds down, I will be doing more photo posts as often as I can. I have a handful of pics I've been wanting to build entire posts around..... but when it comes down to it, they speak for themselves. Stay tuned!*****

Monday, September 22, 2008

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Spicy: A Tale of Love and Hate

I was inspired to write two poems today. Below:

Hot Tamales

you are so red
and chewy
you make my mouth burn
I think it's possible
that I love you

like Jen once said,
you make me drool
but in a good way
not at all like
a loss of motor skills way

let's always be friends, k?

Buffalo Wings

so many times
I've tried to love you
every time
you leave me stinging

there's never enough
or bleu cheese
or napkins
to cover the pain
that remains

and now my fingernails are orange

never again

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Don't Hassle the Hoff

I sent a mass e-mail out to my co-workers letting them know that I would be leaving and that I would miss them all. A copy is below:

To: Fellow Co-Workers
From: Sheila Dilling
Subject: I am HOFF to Oklahoma!

Hey there, co-workers of mine! Guess what?
I am moving to Oklahoma ! Shocking news, yes?

My last day at *Anonymous Company* will be September 24th. I have been offered a remarkable opportunity and I couldn’t pass it up. I gave it a lot of thought…

… and decided it was time…

… for a change.

I’ll be starting a whole new adventure and I am very excited.

It is in a different industry and will give me the opportunity to utilize my creative skills.

I am not taking much with me. Just me and my little dog….

The movers are coming at the end of this week (eek!). I hit the road on the 29th.

Of course, I will miss everything about California . Like hanging at the beach…

… and the relaxing weather.

Oklahoma is COLD!! So I am packing ALL of my sweaters…

…. because I definitely want to stay toasty.

Of course, I will miss my family and friends the most and I include all of the great people I’ve met at *Anonymous Company* in that group:

I am sure the holidays will be tough…

… but I do have family in Oklahoma to keep me company! YAY for family ties!!

I am confident everything will work out….

… who knows what the future will hold for me?

You may not even recognize me the next time you see me!

So, here I come, Oklahoma ! Perhaps I will meet a handsome cowboy and finally settle down…

Until we meet again, some words to live by….

Your friend,
Sheila Dilling
p.s. PUPPIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, September 15, 2008

Goodbye, Apartment 17

Goodbye, apartment

When I moved into this apartment, I gave up a lot of little comforts: no dishwasher, no garbage disposal, no washer and dryer, no central heat & air, and definitely no extra space. Also, the peephole in the front door? Very conveniently located if I had a third eye in between my boobs.

I loved this apartment and it has been my home for the last three years. It has old fashioned radiators and retro tile work. There are built-ins in the kitchen and the closet so everything has it's own place. From the front window, I have watched a variety of parades and an international bike race. Many, many bottles of wine have been emptied here preceding impromptu dance parties and a wrestling match.

But my favorite thing about this place is the afternoon light. It fills the entire apartment with sunshine, giving it the impression that it is always having the best day ever. Thanks, No. 17, you have been great. Sorry about all of the dog hair.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008


As I continue packing boxes, two thoughts pop into my head at the same time. "The dog has to pee" and "I need to call my friend Schaa". I grab a poop bag, the leash, and my phone. The dog and I head down the hallway stairs of my apartment building. Halfway down the stairs, I hear a moan. I look down and see a man collapsed on the floor of the first floor hallway. I scurry down the stairs.

I ask the man if he is okay. I recognize him as the building manager, who I know from sight but have only ever exchanged nods. He struggles to stand. I see a broken pair of glasses and a set of keys on the ground nearby. I ask if he fell down the stairs--should I call 911? He mumbles, but manages to reply in a low voice, "nooooooooooooo". I tell him I do not want to leave him alone until I know he is okay. He appears to me to be very, very inebriated and he can not stand. He also smells of cigarette smoke. The smell is so strong I feel nauseous. I keep my distance. I tell him I want to call 911. He mumbles again, "noooooooooooooooo". Then he stares at me very intently. The look in his eyes is so intense, I immediately feel threatened and intimidated by this man.

The dog whines. She still needs to pee. Reluctantly, I tell him I am going to step outside but will be right back. I walk up and down the block as I hold my cell phone tightly in my hand. When I come back, he is still on the floor. I call 911. I let him know and he becomes agitated. A group of neighbors enter the building. I inform them that I have called an ambulance and that I've been advised to watch the man's breathing, and even if he asks do not give him food or water. The man is drenched in sweat. Within two minutes, the ambulance has arrived. I pick up the broken glasses and keys to get them out of the way. They begin to ask myself and the neighbors questions. We do not know much. I look down at the man's keys. I see a diabetes tag. I show the EMTs. They take the man's belongings and then they are gone.

I can't stop thinking what happened. I should have called 911 sooner. I should have picked up his keys. Why was he so adamant that I not call an ambulance? Is he going to be mad at me? Is he as disappointed in my reaction as I am? As he lay there on the floor, did he sense how much he was scaring me?

I have never been put in a situation like this before. My mind is full of thoughts on how I wish I could get a second chance to do the right thing. At the same time, I hope I never get the opportunity.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Ostrich Syndrome (served chihuahua-terrier style)

Not everyone in this household is as excited about the big move to Oklahoma as I am:

Ostrich Syndrome

Turns out, chihuahua-terriers don't like cardboard boxes and packing tape. She also doesn't like squirrels, skateboards, ABBA, the pool, balloons, my singing, celery, alpaca commercials, or riding in the backseat. So, this? Not really shocking.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

A Goodbye Wave

From where I live in Sacramento, I am two hours from Lake Tahoe (snow! skiing! a shinier, cleaner alternative to Reno!), two hours from wine country (vineyards! cuisine! free booze!) and two hours from San Francisco (arts! culture! diversity! streets so steep you question whether you ever DID learn how to properly use your parking brake in Driver's Ed!)

But of course, California is DEFINED by it's magnificent coast. Thanks, Pacific Ocean, you sure do make this state a very special place in which to pay one of the highest costs of living in the nation.

Since I am about to move hundreds of miles from the only ocean I have ever really known, I figured the Pacific deserved a formal and sincere farewell. So my friend Jen and I hit the beach!

We went to Stinson Beach and (here it comes again) it is about 2 hours from Sacramento. Northern California beaches are not the type of beach you see on Baywatch. Notably, there is not an abundance of silicone on NorCal beaches.

But there are often steep cliffs and rocks right up against the shore, so in order to get there you have to climb up and then down some pretty windy and twisty roads. There are lots of pine trees along the coast and their scent mixes with the salty air creating a mix not unlike a really clean taxi (minus the taxi driver) but much, much better. You will find yourself taking the deepest breaths you have ever taken outside of a Cinnabon. The skies usually start off overcast, but the fog burns off during mid-day and once it is gone, the sky turns a vibrant blue and all of a sudden the massive ocean is dwarfed by the endless sky in every direction.

If you wanted to recreate what it's like to stand in the Northern California ocean, stand in your igloo cooler while your pal pours bags of ice on top. Yeah, it stings. But just for a couple seconds. Because then your feet are numb and the roar of the waves have you hypnotized while your feet stay planted firmly in the velvety sand. I have evidence. Here's a little clip of my feet making out with the ocean:

For more pics, check out my flickr set. Then help me figure out how the heck I can pack this up and bring it with me to Oklahoma.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Move Fast Like a Bunny

My whole life I have wanted a Great Dane. Everytime I have mentioned this aloud, my dad has the same response, "Great Danes have great big poops". My dad should write fortune cookie fortunes.

I have had my eye on this print from Zoe Ingram for some time:

Earlier this week, Zoe announced she is closing her etsy shop due to the ever expanding bun in her oven. So it became very clear, very quickly that I needed to jump at the chance at having these three poopless dogs in my life. My hope is that by the time I have the cha-chingy-ching, she will be back and up and running so I can commission one of her vector portraits.

I also really love the Label series she's done matching hairdos with personality traits.

So, GO NOW, because she is closing up shop TODAY (Scotland time, so pretty much 5 minutes ago).

Thursday, September 4, 2008

I Promise I Don't Smell Like Patchoulli

Several years ago, a good friend told me about a book she was reading that was changing her life. I bought the book mostly out of curiosity (hey, Oprah hadn't endorsed it, so who could blame me?) That book was Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui by Karen Kingston. Now, WAIT!! I know the title is a little.... iffy. It's a mouthful and the whole Feng Shui thing plays such a small role in this book it hardly warrants a front page mention. Feeling better now?

But brace yourself for more panic when you see the cover, which I believe was designed specifically to hone in on any PMS within a twenty foot radius. You know the type: a glowing candle, a couple of droopy (but vibrant!) flowers, all in very coma-inducing earthy tones. Calling all uteri!! Here is some literature for you and your emotional baggage, insecurities, and out-of-control hormones!! Again, WAIT!!

I read this book... and it did indeed change my life. My family and friends will all tell you how notorious I am for giving away the endings to things (OMG, the plants can, like, think and they are killing people!) So, SPOILER ALERT! I'm going to tell you what I learned from this book. Here it is:

When one holds onto things and never lets them go, at some point there is no room left for new things to come into one's life.

Here is how things developed for me. I had been living in the same apartment, same roommate, same job, with the same boyfriend for quite some time. I started doing the exercises in the book. Slowly I began getting rid of books, clothes, and the dreaded knick-knacks. Then all of sudden it snowballed and I started doing huge purges of STUFF that I hadn't even noticed was in my home! I was addicted to the feeling of making more space for myself. I could finally breathe. I started taking art classes, again. And then I found an apartment downtown. A smaller place, but that was okay because I had less stuff. I was living on my own in the neighborhood I had always wanted to live in. Then I applied for a job within my company doing something completely different than what I had been doing, and I got it. I broke up with the boyfriend in the going-nowhere relationship (a story for another day, dears). I ditched a car that had become a financial drain for something reliable. I adopted a dog.

That was three years ago. While I was packing up for my big move to Oklahoma, I came across this book on my shelf and I grinned as wide as what is appropriate when you live alone with your chihuahua-terrier. I was half tempted to draw lips on the cover so I could make out with this book.

If I hadn't adopted this philosophy, I can't imagine I would be a couple weeks away from moving to a new state to start a new job in a new industry. Thank you, Karen Kingston. There will always be space on my shelf for your book despite what it does to my estrogen levels.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Get Your Hands Dirty

I live a block from a nice little park here in downtown Sacramento called Fremont Park. Every year there is this fabulous event that takes place over Labor Day weekend and every year I completely miss it. And now that I am moving to Oklahoma it is clear to me that I shall never partake in the wonderment that is Chalk it Up!!

Chalk it Up is a FREE three-day event where you sign up for your own square of cement and you get as dusty as can be drawing your own sidewalk masterpiece. They provide you with the chalk and there is music and food and lots of people and even though I've never participated I am going to go out on a limb and say it's a heaping spoonful of fun.

Now even though I am not present during the spectacle that is Chalk it Up, this location also happens to function as my chihuahua-terrier's potty. So every Tuesday morning after the event whilst trying to walk the dog and scrape the crust out of my eye, I am delighted to see the wonder that has been left behind. And of course, by Tuesday afternoon the commuters have started to walk across the drawings and the city, while supportive of the event, hasn't considered to turn off the sprinklers even for a single day. The drawings start to take on a dreamlike state, a little out of focus, but still vibrant with color.

This art was made to be enjoyed NOW and I guess if you get the chance to see it, that makes you and the image pretty special right at that very moment.

I made a collage of some of the pictures I took this evening. Enjoy:

Chalk it Up!

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Everything is okay and OK!

There has been a lot of excitement in the house of sheasy over the last two weeks.

Apologies for the lack of posts, as I was waiting for the perfect opportunity to share my big announcement. And while I have had other posts "in the wings" each of them seem to relate to the big news in some way or another. In a sense, the "news" constipated this blog. And now it's all bloated and it's pants are fitting too tight.

It is clear to me now that no new posts could come until I jumped into the bag and wrestled that cat out with my own two bare hands!! So here's my news:

I am moving from California to Oklahoma!

This move means switching industries (weeeee!) and leaving my friends and family behind (boo hoo). A lot is happening and I'll do my best to share as much of my process as I can. In the meantime, enjoy one of my thrifty niftys!

Below is a vintage souvenir handkerchief featuring the lovely state of Oklahoma:

Vintage Souvenir Kerchief

Much more chic than GoogleMaps, yes?

(Love thrift store scores? More thrifty niftys posted over there on the left.)