Mr. Rogers Doesn't Work Here

This is where I currently fund my soap supplies/addiction/business.  Neighbor's Pub in the Virginia Highland area of Atlanta.  Trust me, I'm not as sweet as I look.  Okay, sometimes, but usually it's a result of someone making a joke about balls.  As it turns out I have the sense of humor of an adolescent boy.  

For the interview and more pictures, you can go to metromix.

My Soap Is So Street

Apparently the word about handcrafted soap hasn't hit the streets yet.

Today I had scheduled my first UPS pick-up for a wholesale order to Nature's Nook.  At about 10:00 this morning I heard a knock at my door and assumed it was my friend Matt since sometimes he comes to check on me if he hasn't heard from me in a while and everyone else I know is at work.  When I peeked through the blinds, however, it was a complete stranger who happened to be eyeing the packages at my door and didn't see me.  I admit that I am already oversensitive to potential crimes against my person and there's not usually a whole lot of foot traffic in my neighborhood, during the 9-5 hours.  Immediately my pulse quickened as did my breathing, so I called 911.  I live right next to a police station, so I figured they'd be here in a matter of minutes.. more like 30.  As I was on the phone with the police, I peeked out the bathroom window watching for the guy to leave, but never saw him go.  I suppose he left around the side of the building.

When I returned to the kitchen to see if he was still there, sure enough he was gone along with an eleven pound box of soap that was packed and ready to ship.  When the police arrived I went through the motions, but figured a box of soap probably wasn't high on their list of priorities. Besides, I assumed that once the guy got into the box, he'd ditch it and maybe I could recover some of the product if it wasn't spilled out all over the street.  I called Matt and he came to help me go around the neighborhood and look for it since he's good at finding things.  Last time my cat was missing for about 6 hours, he found him backed into a tiny crevice in the basement.  I guess the basement is where it's at because sure enough, the guy took it into the basement, tore it open and left it.  I guess he couldn't imagine his street corner clientele being interested in handcrafted soap.  Can you imagine him, sunglasses on, fake mustache opening one side of his trench coat weighted down with 11 pounds of soap? 

"Psst!  Hey buddy, wanna buy some soap?  It'll get the stank off ya."

I guess not.  Apparently Mocha Cafe has no street value.  Little does he know...  

I spoke to the UPS guy and figured out an arrangement to prevent this from happening again. Although since he didn't even make off with one single bar, I imagine he wouldn't see any value in giving it another shot.  

Don't get me wrong dear. In general I think I'm doing quite fine.

I've always been a sucker for song lyrics.  I always think it's so corny when other people use them as their own personal statement, but I guess I do that too.  It's not so much for the feeling of shared sentiment, but that someone can put it into words what I'm feeling better than I am able to sometimes.  It's that feeling like when you can't remember the name of a movie and someone mentions it and that sense of satisfaction rushes over you.  I imagine that's what poetry does for some, but I always find myself frustrated trying to dissect the open ended verbiage that is somehow lost on me.  I may as well be trying to get emotional satisfaction in binary code.

In the days since Peter returned to his life, I've felt like something's missing.  My life has gone back to its regular pattern, but it feels somewhat hollow in certain ways.  There's been no definition to our relationship, only the mutual acknowledgment of an emotional connection and scattered thoughts of living in the same city as one another.  This is alright with me because I have great fear associated with finding someone real, feeling something real and taking the chance of ending up heartbroken.  Somehow the distance makes it seem safer.  I think that everyone fears heartbreak and that's why people - particularly women for some reason - feel pressure to label their relationships whether it's boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, or whatever other creative label one might come up with.  Perhaps they feel it's a safeguard against getting hurt, in defining the level of commitment.  The truth is, though, that sometimes people's feelings change.  Time, distance, circumstance, hormones, who knows what else can emotionally trump a promise.  So really, the only thing you can do as an emotionally vulnerable human being is to be open and honest with yourself and hopefully the person with whom you choose to share that open and honest self will treat it with care.  

Sha-ZAM! (and not the Shaq movie)

Green Only Distributors is online!  After about a year in the making, the website is done.  Please go and check it out, there are some sweet products all related to a green environment.  When you go to their site, please make sure you register - just beneath where you log in - especially if you plan to order from their site.  They are not in the business of spamming.  Registering will make a more seamless transaction and makes it easier to track your order.  Also, they will be doing a monthly drawing to give away a product off their site which may even be a gift certificate.

Lost and Found

Peter, the man with whom I spent the better part of three weeks in Alaska this past February came to visit me for 11 indescribable days and nights.  I took him to the airport this morning for his return trip to California.  While he was here, we took a trip to Savannah, which is one of the most charming towns I've ever visited.  We camped on Tybee Island, spent the day at the beach, took lots and lots of pictures of each other and the beautiful Savannah buildings while wandering around the town, only to have left the camera at The Pink House after a nice cold martini.  Alas, no pictures in this post, as it's hard to recover something you left at a bar when you don't realize that you left it there until almost a week later.  I already ordered another camera but have lost every digital image of our time together in Georgia.  It's yet another lesson in living in the moment.  The experiences we shared and the connection we have is worth more than all the pixels in the world.  I may have lost a camera and some pictures, but I found something much more valuable on this vacation.  And I don't just mean the shirt he left behind for me.

Peter designed and made his own batch of soap (with me hovering and giving more instruction than necessary) and I can't wait to post pictures of it and post.  I will probably add it to my permanent line, although I'll probably change the scent.  As soon as I get my camera, I will take and post pictures of it.  It's really beautiful.