When I was in college, I used to sit on the couch with one of my very best friends and we’d say very hilarious things about our bodies. We called it the Fat Kid series.  You know you’re a fat kid when…

you just finished dinner and you immediately want a snack

you need to lay on the floor after you finish your meal

you finish the bowl of homemade whipped cream after you eat the brownie with cream on top

you’ve had pizza two nights in a row and when challenged with the question: what should we eat for dinner tonight?,  you order a pizza, of course.

I’m sure this is the type of thing that was funnier when you’re there.  It was what we said to comfort ourselves after we did something we “shouldn’t” have–something that you kinda secretly loved doing and kinda secretly were embarrassed by… like spending days on the couch watching soaps and eating junk food with your best friend.  It was a way of making that thing only fun.  Only good.  Of separating the embarrassed from the ebullient.

My partner in crime was so spot on with the fat kid series. We would be in tears, making fun of ourselves, eating, laughing, having such a good time together.   It was all on the table (as it were).  Bellies out.  Our self destruction was openly masked by our comedic take on self loathing.  We did it to ourselves and we did it to each other…which seemed to make it all okay.  I don’t regret doing it and I would never take it back.  I remember those times as some of my most favorite of my college years.

you know you're a fat kid when you visit your favorite bakery in San Francisco, eat there, and leave with a $40 bag of pastries... for the road.

you know you're a fat kid when you have 50 pictures of the same favorite taco and fries from Charleston, SC.

Fast forward to present day.  I am not feeling the best about my body these days.  This time last year, I was in the best shape of my life. I was working out regularly.  I was fitting into clothing I had never fit into before.  My face…MY FACE…just looked so lean, and it glowed a little.

A few months ago, that all changed.  The new shop , Little Boxes, and jewelry design/making sort of took first place in both Will’s and my life.  We are finally finding making time to take care of ourselves.  And in making this time, I am realizing that I kind of left myself behind for the sake of everything else.

Instead of just doing something about it when I’m ready, I worry.  I open the drawer in the morning and worry about what I’m going to wear because I worry about how bad it’s going to feel when I discover it doesn’t fit anymore.  I worry that it’s just going to keep getting worse.  So…Here we have Case#2 of THE WORRY PROJECT:

Case #2:  I’ve let myself go. My body is turning blubbery.

Solution:  Go workout. (in today’s case, I will go to the gym and workout on the moonwalk machine. I’m embarrassed to say, I haven’t been to the gym in over 2 months. I will report back here tomorrow and let you know if I actually did it).

I’ve been trying to revert to my old ways.  When I start worrying about it, I try to incorporate the Fat Kid back into my life, to make some humor out of the situation (instead of actually doing something about it).  But it’s just not the same without college and it’s especially not the same without Cam.  It only worked with her.  While the Fat Kid is so fun to be around, I think she’s just a distraction from my worry, a certain kind of freedom, a disguise.

It’s time to get on with the worry project and go with it!

I will stick with my word.  I will wait to worry.  I will sweat it out.  And then I will see if the Fat Kid is waiting for me when I walk out of the gym.

You know you’re a fat kid when you can’t stop talking about being fat kid. here’s to leaving my Fat Kid behind!  xo~betsy

***Song of the Moment: To Forgive, by The Smashing Pumpkins***

I worry about things.  And then I worry about worrying about them.  I worry about silly things.  I worry about important things.  If I’m not worrying, I worry why.

With all of the amazingly exciting things that became my 2011—the building of the betsy & iya shop, creating Little Boxes, planning my sweetheart’s milestone 30th birthday party, Iya’s wedding across the country, new designs, so many amazing new friends and events, life in general, the MASSIVE amount of jewelry we made, the balancing of it all, etc.–the worrying got a little out of hand.

(there is no mirror in this picture.)

At some point in the middle of it all, when I was dramatically crying on the studio floor and being consoled by Gingham (our little dogter), I knew something had to be done.  You see, there is just no time for as futile an act as worrying when there is scarcely enough time for sleeping, eating, and breathing.  At this low point, when our sweet pup was pushing my limp arm up over her head and snuggling herself into me (yes, this really happened)…that’s when I came up with this:  THE WORRY PROJECT.

The thing is, I can’t change overnight.  But I caaaaaaannn put on some old school Lauryn Hill and do a little dancy in my work seat…

Oh, MAN, that felt good.  And in a nutshell, you have THE WORRY PROJECT.  It starts with a problem and ends with a worry-eliminating solution.

CASE #1:  I’m worried that it’s taking me too long to write this blog post.

SOLUTION:  stop thinking about it and do a quick dance.

The solution helps me get out of my head.  Afterwards, I’m fresh and ready for action.  I’m also immediately aware that the worry was not helping my case whatsoever.  The solution can be anything you want it to be.  The end goal is that you actually give yourself a break and then confront your stupid worry in its ugly face.  In my case, the end goal is that I’m happy with my writing and roll with the momentum.

I hope you’ll join me towards a worry-free world!  There will be weekly worry reveals.  Just wait, it gets super juicy!

Also, check back on MONDAY when we announce a special winter GIVEAWAY and instructions on how to enter.

Happy Friday, lovelies! ~betsy

***Song of the Moment: Ex-Factor, by Lauryn Hill***

It came about during the holiday season when I felt a bit like a puppet in my own show.  2011 was perhaps the craziest year of my life…wilder than awkward teenage years, more intense than 18 hour graduate school days, and more overwhelming than starting betsy & iya. We didn’t sleep this summer when we were building the new brick & mortar shop, and we didn’t sleep during the holiday season.  Translation: we haven’t slept since June.  Okay, okay, okay, maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic, but I think the actual amount of days we took off from work (vacusiness not included) in 2011 could be counted on my fingers and toes.

Throughout the crazy year, things really started piling up—emails, friend get-togethers, floor clothes, paper, dishes, random work tasks, resolving conflicts–you name it, chances are, it got piled up.  Around October when the piles really started peaking out, I decided something had to be done about it.  The thought of how to even begin diminishing the piles was so daunting that I started building piles of piles.  The only thing that could be done was to stop adding to the piles.  And then it just popped into my head like a giant scrolling marquee in Times Square:  DO IT NOW.

So simple, yet so smart and clever.  I can’t say that I haven’t slipped back into a pile here and there; but, when I see something that needs to be done and I start slipping, the phrase pops in and it’s like music to my ears.  It FEELS SO GOOD.  DOING IT NOW FEELS SO GOOD.

Here’s one very graspable example:

I finish eating a snack out of a cute little ramekin.  I begin to set the empty ramekin on the table in front of me.  ERR ERR EERR (insert: flashing red lights) ERRR ERRR ERRR (this is supposed to be the sound of a serious alarm going off). Brain pops in the phrase in modern black letters (imagine an old school optometrist’s light box, someone’s just turned it on): DO IT NOW.  I swiftly turn my direction to the kitchen where I begin to set the ramekin on the counter (I mean, I have sooo many other things to do that are sooooo much more important than washing my dish immediately, right? I mean, RIIIGHT!?!).  There is a sharp brain slap on my guilty hand, the phrase pops back in, and I quickly rinse the ramekin and place it in the dishwasher.  done.  DO IT NOW.

done.

And you know what’s so awesome about that!?  It’s done!  I don’t have to sift through my brain files later to make sure everything’s done.  It’s gone!  It’s over!

Another quick example: the inevitable email pile.  UGH!  This is the do-it-now rule that I’m still perfecting.  Under no circumstances am I permitted to check my email unless I have the time to respond right away.  Checking email involves two actions now: checking it and then doing something about it (replying, archiving, deleting, etc) immediately. I am no longer allowed to brain file emails.  Sometimes I wonder if I enjoy torturing myself…constantly anxious about whether or not I’ve replied, taken care of whatever it was, etc.  No MORE!  I’m DOING IT NOW.

(It’s also super fun to say).  (try it).  (do it now).

This blog post is a part of it all—man, I’ve missed you guys!

xo (big time)~ betsy

(seriously, do it now. it’s gonna feel soooo good).

***Song of the Moment: The Color of Industry, by Radiation City***

Walks in St. Johns.  New favorite coffee.  Gingham love.  Friends.  Beer.  Fall.  Way too much work. Yep.

xo

~betsy

***Song of the Moment: Amsterdam, by Peter Bjorn and John***

Early June: California show tour.

Oh yeah.  OOOOOh yeah. Weeeeeeeell, well, well.  I think we were playing hide and go seek with Summer.  It found a really great–amazingly clever–hiding space.  I went off looking and got so distracted by other things (like opening a shop, maintaining and gaining wholesale accounts, and driving to and from shows/events in Seattle, SF, LA, and Chicago) …I forgot to actually go and find it.

Mid June: New shop design shopping. Wow, what a task.

So…Summer got bored and left to play with Fall.  And then Fall killed Summer.

Late June: Fill the biggest order of my life.

Okay, not really.  Maybe Fall just tucked Summer in for its yearly hibernation.  But the thing is, summer is gone now and it’s time for me to be okay with that.  And come to grips with the fact that I’ve just experienced the craziest Summer of my life.

Early August: Big sis gets hitched and I wear my favorite summer jewelry.

Here we are in…OCTOBER… and I’m trying to be here. Now, with the Fall.

I find comfort in this blog and I hope to be snuggling up to in the next few weeks.  In the meantime, please know that I’ve missed you guys.

Early September: Snuggling with Gingham. (This one sort of sums it all up.)

Stories of how time flew by are most definitely waiting behind the curtain for their cues.  I shall be calling them onstage very very soon.

xo~betsy

***Song of the Moment: Chilly Winds Don’t Blow, by Nina Simone***

As is often the case when pastrami is a menu item, I ordered and indulged.  Pastrami and I get along very well.  Bets had the Prosciutto with homemade fig jam.  And we had some tasty stouts.  And we had some soup.  And when we were full and happy, we had a rousing match of Ms. Pac-Man.

I did not know this about my wife: she’s a Pac-Man Wiz.  She sailed through the levels.  I’d wait for my turn and watch agape as she devoured those little dots.  We squealed together and shouted at the ghosts she squeaked past.  We laughed and high-fived.  It makes sense that she’d rock at Pac-Man.  It’s chaos and order; high-stakes; rules and patterns.  She’s good at those things.  And it was fun.  She’s real good at fun.

Today, we’re getting ready for Crafty Wonderland (it’s TOMORROW [5/7/11], Portland people! And we’re going to have a great sale bin!), we’re sending orders, sending samples to an exciting possible new account, crossing our fingers, finalizing some design choices on the new line,  eating the ghosts we can get to, and devouring all those little dots.  One level at a time.

High-five.

***Song of the Moment: 1000 Miles Per Hour, by OK Go***

When Betsy was first starting out, she went to a small business conference where she learned that 90% of all small businesses go under within the first three years.  Guess what today is:

OUR THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY!

an old Outfit of the Day in the first studio

first models, first jewelry, first shoot.

And guess what we are?

NOT BANKRUPT!

fixing something just before the NEW studio opening.

favorite lights in the new space.

in through the outside.

L working hard!

new light.

awesome shoppers.

And not bankrupt is only the tip of the iceberg.  We’re growing.  The jewelry designs are getting hotter by the minute.  We have almost 2,500 Facebook fans.  We have 11 new wholesale jewelry accounts just this month!  I quit my job in August, so we’re doing it together AND our marriage hasn’t fallen apart; in fact, it’s stronger than ever!

sexy new designs.

yes, the marriage still rocks.

We’re happy.  We’re thankful.  We are the lucky 10 percent.

Thank you so much for sticking with us—we heart you all!!!

***Song of the Moment: Groove Me, by Maximum Balloon***

BEFORE:

We were definitely concerned about transitioning from a full to a king size bed, especially since our bedroom is already super tiny.  We didn’t really care, though.  We figured, what’s really the purpose of a bedroom?  If our room that has a bed in it became only that–a bed-room, it would be just fine.  Our desire for a more spacious bed won out in the end.  And the cool thing??  The room actually looks and feels much bigger to us.  Probably because we made it more our own.

AFTER:

Our amazingly talented friend, Brian, is currently building us the coolest platform bed you’ve ever seen with beautiful Oregon wood, Myrtle.  Don’t worry, we’ll show you pics when it’s all finished.

Have absolutely wonderfully beautiful weekends!

much love,

betsy

(look out next week for a new design project in the works)

***Song of the Moment: Neon Valley Street, by Janelle Monae***

this is not even a small portion of it.

W and I started the year off by pretty much stealing the entire month of January for ourselves.  We gave bits and pieces to betsy & iya, but really, it belonged to us.  It all started when we decided to give each other a bed island (i.e. a king sized bed) for Christmas.  Initially, the decision was awesome.  After remembering we were paying a massive storage fee to the convenient Under-the-Bed Storage monsters, we realized what we were up against.  The day we went looking for a new mattress was the day our household President (me, of course) declared war on clutter.  At first, I thought we had no chance.  NO CHANCE.  Then we gathered our extremity army and started knocking them out, one storage nightmare at a time.

process picture.

hallway storage, BEFORE.

hallway storage, BEFORE #2

The country of clutter started waving its surrender flag moments before our new mattress from the amazing local shop, The Mattress Lot, arrived. We declared victory at 10 am in the morning, on a Monday.  We dumped at least 20 pounds of paper recycling and 100 pounds of wonderful (ahem) thrift store finds.  It felt good, really good, you guys.

hallway storage, AFTER.

for years, we've been trying to figure out what the heck these deep built-in cabinets would be most useful for. Can't believe I didn't think of it before now. Welcome to our new SHOE CLOSET.

And then the transformation began.

these shelves make me want to shed a tear every time I look at them.

And then January was over.

Tune in tomorrow for new bedroom pics, post–bed island installation.

love. so much love~

betsy

(The body post will come later this week.  Way too much to say about that.)

***Song of the Moment: Save Yourself, by Aesop Rock***