Backup Memory.

Dear 27,
A moment of silence for my MacBook. A clumsy spill left it covered in electrolyted water and potentially left me without any photographic evidence of the last two years of life. I now understand why people talk about "backing things up." (Damn you Mr. Harmon. You taught me how to type and play Jezzball, but not the importance of external hard drives.)

 

Before making my biggest blunder of year 27, I did attend the 3rd meeting of the Robert Burns Society and found that I very much enjoy the Dalmore Gran Reserva. The weekend, while I pouted about the possible loss of thousands of photos, did turn out to be a lovely one that included a tour of the Body Worlds: VITAL exhibit with the Governor, an epic Asian BBQ celebrating our Tone and an evening around the new fire pit.

With the birthday only 7 days away, I'm hustling to put together the SuperBirthdayBackyardBBQ and planning for the 28th year. So much to do in May...

xo-LP

And one more thing: If you've ever been the recipient of an original LP postcard-- help me build my "portfolio." Snap a photo of your postcard and upload it here. You'd be helping me out bigtime.

You're so Vein.

Dear 27,
I did it. In less than 9 minutes (and after a near, but not complete pass out) I saved 3 lives.

Chelsea and I met for a big pre-blood-giving breakfast at Baby Boomers and then, with my near-nurse there telling me "you're doing great," I started the process. I must admit the actual giving part was far less scary than I'd thought it would be. The questions to answer, the finger prick test (Kate you wouldn't have made it past this part) and the anticipation of it all was far worse than the actual blood giving. Katey, Terri and Denise were kind as could be (and looked at all my postcards while I was eating pretzels and trying to get the color back in my face post-donation). I met a man who has given over 9 gallons of blood (he was oh-so-kind while I asked him a bunch of questions) and learned so much about the effect a once-every-eight-weeks visit to the blood center can have on people's lives. I don't want to promise I'll be back, but after having so many wonderful people help me through the less-than-terrifying process, I think I'll have to try and muster up the strength.

The day of adventure continued with my first ever (I realize to you DSM people this is unbelievable) visit to the lovely Gray's Lake. This city continues to delight me. 

xo-LP

Won't you take me to MuskieTown.

Dear 27,
I have a spectacular life. I realize this is a bold statement. I realize it might be hyperbolic. But damn it was a great weekend. I kicked my Friday off early visiting new baby Xavier and then lunching with the ever-lovely Paige.

Then there was the most terrific moment (hours later) when I sold a whole bunch of cards in less than 10 minutes based on the unnecessarily kind words and promotion of my lil postcards by a friend, a iphone viewing of my incomplete postcardfolio and the existence of Dwolla. Saturday turned out to be the busiest most relaxingly fun day ever. There was Ephemera and Hill Vintage and a #spacemexican birthday party. And there was a photo booth and a hat and my DSM family in matching shirts.

I then finally made it back to MuskieTown (I'm sorry fam for not getting back to hometown until now. Christmas was far too long ago). We hit Salvatores, of course and then made a short trip to the Muscatine Art Center. While our tour lasted no more than 20 minutes, it was worth it.

The most splendid weekend in quite some time. 

xo-LP

With only 17 days to go, it's time to be realistic.

Dear 27,

It's almost here. 2-8 is looming. And there is still so much to do. Relays came and went, but not without a super fun out of town visitor, behind the scenes race day tours and blue wall photo shoots.

Car buying, reading more books than there are days left before the birthday and even art class taking (sad) probably are unattainable at this point, but I am formulating a plan to cross off as many of the remaining items as possible. (So this plan isn't exactly written out, nor is it on my calendar, but it'll happen.) I'm so happy to have so many blog-list-encouragers out there. Next week (barring any bigtime loss of courage) I have an appointment to GIVE BLOOD. I'm nervous already, but after all this, I can handle it. Plus Chelsea will be there both for moral support and blog photo purposes.

Last night was not only an unexpectedly wild 5DM (patent pending phrase from the Tom Perry), but an awesome show opened at the DMAC. Be sure, if you're a DSM local, to get over and check it out. I also got to meet the soft-handed artist, James Gobel. His work is texturally brilliant. (How arty) And while it may be cheating the list, I'm counting my awesome evening at the Des Moines Art Center as a visit to a museum. (Go ahead and judge me.)

I must say this first week of May has been full of delights and surprises, including an unexpected thoughtful piece of fragile mail. How wonderfully mysterious. So much to look forward to in the coming weeks, I do believe this month will be the perfect 2-7 finale.

xo-LP

Glitter+Grease= One helluva Night

Dear 27,

I must admit that April was a month I'd like to do-over. It felt like one long, sad week after another. Then Lidgett Liz came to the rescue and the Big Hair Ball served as one of the best nights I've ever had in my six years in Des Moines. With a pre-party in the tiny apartment (yes. that many people in the little living room), we kicked off the night with tons of glitter and sequins and pizza rolls.

The event, held at my favorite place in all of the city, showcased a bigtime hair runway show, costumes, pole dancers (seriously), the Snacks and a gathering of the coolest people in Des Moines.

Ending with a dance party at the Kirkwood and a home full of glitter, this weekend couldn't have been any better. (Thanks for being there everyone!)

xo-LP

Happy Birthdays are my favorite.

Dear 27,

With very few days left until this list retires, I find myself cranking out a whole bunch of birthday cards and celebrating a bunch of people I adore here in Des Moines annnnnd planning my own big end-o-blog-27-start-of-28 celebration. We have had many a reason to party in 2011 (despite the fact I've only posted 24 times). 

Many list items still need to be checked off (I know) and there's a few I probably won't accomplish (I know. I'm disappointed too.) But I am taking suggestions, as my own big 2-8 approaches, for the list for my next year. Comment away. 

xo-LP

It's personal.

Dear 27,
It's been 21 days since my last post. I haven't felt much like writing, truthfully. So much good has happened. In fact today I my heart feels full of the people and places and moments that this fine city has graciously granted me. I have been trying to capture my 27th year in an honest and interesting way, as my warmhearted friend Chelsea said today "like a journal." With only a month left in a year that will truly go down as one of my favorites, I really should be writing more. (Especially if I want to be a Juice blogger.)

But amidst so much good, an unthinkable tragedy has rocked me and many close to Ashley. At a time when I was ready to leave this place (yes. The same city I praised and have grown to love dearly) and runaway from all that was troubling me, I met Ashley. Both serving on the YPC Board in 2009 she sent me a brief, but charming email asking if I'd like to meet for coffee or drinks to get to know one another. We bonded over rum drinks and from there a friendship grew. When she learned of my pending plans of fleeing Des Moines she made it her personal mission to both keep me in here and brighten my days. We shared lunches, met often for pedicures (a ritual we both took very seriously) and celebrated birthdays and mid-week meals with the same excitement. She was gentle and kind, the glow of her grin truly lit a room. She was honest, supportive, graceful and she'd surprise you with how funny she could be. She pushed herself to be great, but made it look effortless. I know she'd be upset with me for complimenting her so much. She never wanted much fuss made about her.

And now I'm writing this. In the Starbucks. On Easter Sunday. Still in my trench coat because even though it's April it's cold.

It's happened twice since that Friday. I've picked up the Blackberry to tell her how Doug sang Sweet Child of Mine and broke out some smooth dance moves or how I needed my toes polished, stat. I've looked through the pictures of she and my dad pairing up for the birthday beer pong tournament and laughed until it turned to tears. I suppose these bits of life I'd have shared with her will come up often, and that she's somewhere laughing with me, but I'm overwhelmed by feelings. I've been feeling a lot of feelings. (Which I realize to the 5 of you who will read this is no surprise. I'm a feelings kind of person.)

I'm angry and having spent very little of my 27 years even mad about something, I'm not even sure how exactly anger is supposed to feel. I'm sad in a way that no one ever hopes to feel. I find myself using the f-word an extra lot, sleeping more and losing my appetite. I obsessively read the news longing for some sort of answers, some kind of closure, anything really.

But the sun still comes up in the morning. I regain a little focus everyday. I have been moved by the many people who've comforted me, sent me a pizza in the mail (packed in dry ice- awesome) offered condolences, and just sat with me quietly.

Ashley would read the blog while she was working in the model during her downtime. I'd get occasional emails asking when I did this or that or why I didn't call her first. Then over lunch she'd want all the details I left out in the post, or for me to schedule the next outing when she could make it because she really wanted to appear on the blog.

She reminded me often she was proud of me. (In fact, she was one who made sure this happened.) In a way, she's responsible for me staying here. Ashley reminded me to give the city a chance, to push myself to be great. As this city continues to bless me, I'll continue to thank you my friend.
xo-LP

I sort of get why they call it a "Flea Market" now.

Dear 27,
Crossed off #23 this afternoon with a necessarily brief trip to a Flea Market at the Fairgrounds. I originally added "Browse a Flea Market" to the list because I figured I would chance upon treasures: a box filled with delicate vintage postage stamps, wood-type stacked neatly among lead-type, tiny skeleton keys laid out on pretty saucers or sweet little piles of colorful tea cups. (You know, something like this, this, and especially this.)

Instead, the flea market looked like this. I passed by tables of surplus promotional materials (think the pens, coffee cups and chip clips your bank gives away), booths that looked like a basement was emptied into it, and that they didn't sift out the exceptionally weird stuff (think reflectors that had broken off the back of your childhood bicycle) or tables that had stacks of chip bags on them. (Seriously.)

Ok so the whole place didn't have the smell of the unwashed and the junky. There were swords, a spot that sold motorized wheelchairs (where I saw a woman negotiating with the seller a pretty intense payment plan) and a big booth that sold socks with the tags still on them. I did find this little gem of a belt buckle, that I nearly purchased. Would have been a nice brassy accessory for the PKN presentation.

I did spend $5 in the less than 20 minutes I spent in the 4-H building. A couple 45s (including "Killing Me Softly" by Roberta Flack) and a couple vintage postcards. 

The muscle man is Bob McCune (Mr. America). The vendor gave me two of these cards, which are promotional cards for Sorensen's Health Gym (205 Grand Avenue, Des Moines 9, Iowa) where Mr. American tells me that there is "only one safe speedy way" to develop a "PHYSIQUE" like his. Can't wait to send that one to an unsuspecting recipient.

So the flea market wasn't a dreamy artsy haven, but it certainly showed me a bit of Des Moines I hadn't seen before and with only 50 days until 28, I crossed another one off the list.

xo-LP

Mock me if you wish. But it's true.

Dear 27,
A list of things that should embarrass me, but really don't. Although they do make me laugh. 
(Perhaps publishing this list will be something that actually does embarrass me.)


1. I once owned and wore proudly a Grant Hill Pistons jersey (I wonder where it is now...), a gift given to me by my AAU basketball teammates. We were a ragtag group of girls who didn't make the "good-enough" cut to play on "Swoosh" or "Force." We wore jerseys that looked like practice pennys and called ourselves the PeaceFrogs.
  1a. I did in fact play basketball in high school. 
  1b. And I did keep all the clippings from the Muscatine Journal.

2. I have never seen Caddyshack.
3. I have been to four American Idols LIVE concerts.
4. I dressed like this on my way to school once. (probably more than once.) And had that haircut. And those glasses. And damn I loved that messenger bag.

5. I "went out" with my first boyfriend because Becca said Rene Martinez liked me and that he was cool. I promptly broke up with him the following day, despite the fact that it was Valentine's Day. 
6. I don't really know my left from right.


You know you have some too. Share. It'll feel good to put it out there.
xo-LP

Out like a lamb.

Dear 27,
March was one serious month. Newport Beach, Agoura Hills, Chicago, San Deigo and so many meetings and events and many un-vacuumed days in my apartment. But as always, it was a whole bunch of fun.

And Rob Sheffield tells me this poem exists. The end of March came upon my life quickly. In April I sure have a lot of books to read...
xo-LP