Angelina Jolie Undergoes Double Mastectomy

Sharing this for the few of you who might not have heard. Angeline Jolie penned an Op-Ed piece for the New York Times in which the actress reveals that she underwent three months of surgical procedures to remove both breasts as a preventative measure. Jolie, whose mother passed away from breast cancer at age 56, tested positive for the BRCA1 gene which increased her chances for the disease to 87 percent. Her risk dropped to five percent after the double mastectomy.

It's a powerful one that hit close to me. I was surprised that someone so praised for her sexy looks would go through a mastectomy just like that - for the sake of her health and for her children. I more than commend her for her bravery and for opening up about her experience so others can break their own silence and fears. Luckily, I tested negative for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes that increase your risk for developing breast and ovarian cancers so I got away with a lumpectomy and radiation. Right now, I'm on Tamoxifen pills for five years to lower my chances of recurrence to about nine percent.

I don't know how I would've handled removing everything. I probably wouldn't have normalized as quickly as I have. Or maybe I would have, who knows? I feel that no matter how big or small your breasts are...they're still such a big part of femininity or at least that's what society has raised me to believe. I find myself dreading any trips to the beach just because I don't want to wear a bathing suit that'll reveal that my left boob is still slightly larger than the other, that the skin is still considerable darker as it continues to heal from the radiation treatment months ago, that I feel mangled and slightly damaged. But I'm still here, complete save for a small cancerous lump that foolishly tried to do me in.

"On a personal note, I do not feel any less of a woman," Jolie writes. "I feel empowered that I made a strong choice that in no way diminishes my femininity."

Reading Jolie's piece also made me think about health care access and how many can't afford treatments or the reconstructive surgery that could accompany a mastectomy. Genetic tests - conducted through blood samples - can be a huge help when deciding how to proceed and allows you to be proactive with your health instead of just getting swept away by the tide. It also costs several thousand dollars and it saddens me to think of those who'll be taken by surprise simply because they didn't or couldn't know. Had I not made the decision to seek individual health insurance coverage a year before being diagnosed (I'm a freelancer and therefore not under my employer's coverage), I would be drowning in debt right now. The monthly premiums and out-of-pocket maximums are still astronomically high, but if I didn't have that, I would be adding medical payment plans to the student loans I already have. Cancer is costly in so many ways.

Typically cancer stories fill me with dread because the disease typically comes out of nowhere or there's news that it's spread or somebody finally lost their war, but this one was positive despite the drastic measure. It was good, it was strong, and it showed that breast cancer can be overpowered and any whisper of a risk can be decidedly stomped out. Here's hoping that everyone - regardless of socioeconomic status - will someday have the ability to be just as decisive and proactive about their own health without needing to choose between providing for their family's immediate needs and ensuring they'll be alive and well for many years to come.

Image: nytimes.com

#IStillLoveCalligraphy

So I've started my calligraphy e-course and I have to say I'm slightly obsessed. I've been practicing every day for a week (save Friday) and find myself thinking about it when I'm not near my supplies. I'm still wibbly wobbly as I learn to "paint" the letterforms, but I'm slowly growing more comfortable with the pointed pen and today started linking the letters to learn how to properly kern - or space out - the letters. It's not as easy as it looks when there are so many loop-the-loops. (I fared better with "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" than I did with "hello.")

I've also searched around for a virtual calligraphy community and have found the super talented calligrapher Maybelle who teaches live classes around the country and will be popping into atelier Bellocq in New York City for two workshops on July 25. Check her Facebook page for more info.

One of my Souvenir Foto Shop teachers is also really into calligraphy. A browse through Miss Tristan B.'s Besotted blog yielded tips on great nibs, supply reviews, where to shop, and calligraphy fonts if you just want the pretty effect without the ink stains. As to where to buy, many recommend John Neal Bookseller and Paper & Ink Arts, which is were I bought my materials. The lovely thing about calligraphy is that it's incredibly affordable to take up. A nib holder and ink costs about $5 each and nibs cost less $2 apiece so you can easily play with a few to find out what lettering styles you like.

For some handlettering porn, check out Holly Hollon, Meredith Bullock of Hazel Wonderland, Courtnie Johnson of Etsy shop Poppy Pedals, and Kelly Cummings' The Year of Lettering Tumblr blog. The hashtag #istilllovecalligraphy on Instagram will turn up images taken by students who've taken Melissa Esplin's I Still Love Calligraphy course. You'll find mine on there, too!

Taking Flight

Happy Friday and hello from California! I flew out here a couple days ago to spend some extra time with A.'s family before he arrives tonight and then tomorrow we'll be celebrating his sister's marriage. Even though I'm a bit exhausted (I'm still working through my "vacay" and helping chase after two adorable Energizer bunnies is no joke), I'm loving the sunshine and the little getaway to bond with the family.

I've also got lots to look forward to in the coming weeks. I've signed up for business development and marketing classes from 3rd Ward and General Assembly, a calligraphy e-course from I Still Love Calligraphy, and The Style Lab from Confetti Pop so I can improve my photo styling skills. Plus, I'll be selling Porcupine Hugs goods at the Artists & Fleas market this summer so I'll be busy prepping products to release this coming month.

What do you have planned for the summer? I've realized that the more time I leave open, the less I actually do so I'm looking forward to packing this month in with creativity and productivity. What about you?

Jumping Over Puddles

My dad is convinced that I'm going to be eternally disappointed in life and sometimes I wonder if he's right. I admit I expect too much from others or at the very least expect the same things I expect of myself: respect, commitment, self-awareness, honesty. Not everyone lives by those same rules, he says. And sometimes I let my mind dash off instead of focusing on the facts laid out before me, which often leads to heightened expectations.

Last month, I had to let go of a friend I'd considered my bestie for nearly 17 years. It was no easy decision, but after I'd realized how anxious the relationship made me feel and how often I excused her behavior, I knew I had to cut the chord. And despite the colorful language that came flying at me afterwards, I still wish her well, I still wonder how she's doing, and I still wish things had turned out differently.

Finding a new home for Toby has also been laced with disappointments and false promises from people who'd string me along. "Why can't people commit?!" I grrrr'ed. After accommodating the schedules of two potentials only to be left hanging in midair, I was ready to give up on my third prospect - a 73-year-old woman who regularly finds loving homes for dogs through her organization Earth Angels Canine Rescue. She seemed perfect and had the experience to handle Toby's growing health problems herself, but pinning down a time for her to come over was such a hassle. Sickness, a dead phone, and hectic volunteer schedule were just some of the reasons why I was stood up two days in a row and when three hours ticked past the time we'd set for Sunday, I was ready to tear into her.

"It's all a test," A. had suggested, "to see if you're a kind and patient person."

Sure enough, when she came to pick up Toby, I had melted back to human and scratched off her previous transgressions. Plus, I didn't want to waste any time being annoyed with someone who was probably just doing the best they could.

There's another letdown though that I'm still working through. A. and I had planned to move in together this spring, but after starting the apartment hunt we realized that we weren't ready just yet and decided to hold off. I had wrapped up so much into this milestone that I failed to see the missing pieces. I was also determined that what happened with Mr. First in 2008 wouldn't happen again - to find myself signing a lease only to let it all go (thousands of dollars included) and break up shortly after. A terrible motivation that probably added to my stress and while I felt slightly relieved when we decided to push it aside, I was still sad about it.

So I could continue to be disappointed - with him, with myself - that this didn't happen yet or I could choose to move past it and just appreciate each moment for what it is. I've always admired those who've been able to let things roll off their shoulder, the ones who live and learn, who stumble over obstacles, but dust themselves off and keep it moving. Five years ago, I was wiped completely off my feet and let the water pull me under for what felt like forever. This time though? I'm focusing on leaping over the puddles. I will not drown again.

Image: dancersamongus.com

Solar Weather Designy App

If you're like me and live in a city with four distinct seasons that's frequently subjected to Mother Nature's PMS moodiness, then checking the weather is a daily obsession. We check it before walking out the door, before making plans, to see if it's too cold to be looking cute, and if there's some good weather to look forward to in the coming weekend. Not that having two days off isn't good enough, but I think we can agree that two days off and warm, sunny weather is just that much better. A., who's from California, said he never even thought about the weather before moving to New York! "So what on Earth did you talk about with strangers?" I asked.

Solar is a top weather forecast app that uses colors to tell you both temperature and weather conditions. Apart from how pretty the colorscapes look, I like how the screen will flash and vibrate if a thunderstorm is underway and how clean and simple the interface is. Scroll up to see the forecast change throughout the day, pull down for a quick view of the next three days, and swipe or tap the screen to see weather in other cities.

So now not only can I talk about the weather, but how I check it, too, therefore doubling the arsenal in my bag of awkward break-the-ice conversation starters.

Open

In the last month I've found myself completely pulling back from blogging, from tweeting, from sharing too many snippets or thoughts on Facebook. It's not that I didn't have things to say - I had so many! - it's that I couldn't find the energy to string the words together. I felt so zapped and uninspired. Frankly, I was tired and bored of my own self.

In trying to figure out how to merge all these interests I possess, I realized I've been spreading myself thin and the spread wasn't even all that awesome sauce to begin with. I realized that I'm a dabbler in many things, but truly amazing in nothing and have been too busy running all over the place, chasing wisps of dreams rather than sitting down and devoting myself to just a craft or two. It's just so hard to choose! What if I follow the wrong rabbit down its hole? What if I devote myself to one subject only to find myself constantly yearning for something new?

Then there's the challenge of doing what you love versus doing what earns you money and finding a way to marry the two. Advice from older generations have usually gone along the lines of "find something, a company, and just stick with it until you can retire." Or "it's not about doing what you love, it's about loving what you do." They must think we're so spoiled and wayward with our "search for passion" and "following our dreams" when their career missions went no further than doing whatever it took to ensure food made it to our table.

They say financial security leads to happiness and while I agree that money woes are stressful as hell, I'd like to think that passion, motivation, and income can align so you're not miserable at a high-paying job, sticking around merely because the pay is so good. I don't want to be driven solely by what would be lucrative choices and I don't want to be a slave to the dollar. I want to feel as if the work I've done has an impact, that it carries meaning because once that spark is gone, then it all become a dreadful waste of time.

I recently quit a weekly assignment on that principle because I no longer felt challenged or invested. In addition, I started questioning if my time and skills were being used to the best of my capabilities and for a stretch there I didn't feel like I'd been making much of an impact at all. What am I contributing here? What service am I providing? How am I helping others? How important is it that I feel important as well?

This is where I feel that honing in on a niche and going boom-pow! on that target would make one an indispensable resource. The odds of being the go-to person for one specific topic with some trailblazing contributions are greater than if you tried to cover too broad a segment. For starters, the time you spend chasing all those paths could be better used to become devoted and amazing in one thing. Perhaps later on, after you've got a stronghold on that puppy, then you can add another piece to the batch.

Writing is what makes my heart pounce, but then what of photography, art, creating, volunteerism, and travel? What of helping others express themselves and unraveling my inner thoughts through words and color? A part of me wants to continue searching and searching until the answer opens up before me and says, "This is how. This is the way." I do not have all the answers and no longer want to feel stuck in this standstill and so I write to say hello, to say I'm here, and to say I'm ready.

Images: all photos taken by Dorkys Ramos at the New York Botanical Garden

First Day of Spring + Macaron Day

For the purposes of this post, I'm going to turn a blind eye to the fact that there's still snow on the ground to say thank goodness spring has arrived. It might still be too chilly to put the coat away, but at least the day has greeted us with sunshine and sometimes you've just got to take what you can get. Pretty soon I'll be able to squeeze back into my skinny jeans without needing to pair them with tights, use my phone's touch screen without freezing my hand off, and stop hearing A. go on and on about how "in L.A. you never talk about the weather because it's just sooo perfect and blah blah blah." I also can't wait to host picnics in the park and if all goes well, we might be exploring a new neighborhood before summer's arrived. Fingers crossed!

Today is also Macaron Day both in New York City and Paris so if you're a fan of the treat, browse through these bakeries around NYC to get a free macaron. Just tell the shop you're there for Macaron Day. A portion of today's sales at many participating locations will be donated to City Harvest, a rescue organization committed to feeding the hungry.

I wish I'd known Macaron Day was back again so soon. Then perhaps of baking mini baseball cupcakes for last night's World Baseball Classic's final game, I would have used my Christmas/birthday present from the Bantu Girl to give macaron-making a whirl. It doesn't seem hard at all and just think of all the filling options you could play with. *nom nom nom*

My Weekend in Instagrams

You know those days when it starts off just right and you feel great the whole day through? That was my Friday. I was in such good spirits I finally returned to the gym after going AWOL for four months. I'm still sore from that workout, but am determined to keep at it now that my body and mind can handle the efforts. Still riding the high, I asked A. out on a date, enjoyed a delicious Italian dinner at Tony's Di Napoli, and then walked over to Starbucks for a cup of hot chocolate because I simply didn't want the evening to end.

I'd been wanting to check out the CONFETTISYSTEM: 100 Arrangements exhibition at Museum of Modern Art PS1 so badly that despite the snowy weather, A. and I trekked into Queens to visit the museum Saturday afternoon. While the décor was festive and pretty, I have to say I was a bit disappointed by the installation. I'd expected grander! More interactive! What the hell I thought I'd be able to roam around and find myself surrounded by sparkling fringes and tissue paper in this "immersive environment." Instead, I found that the space was occupied by a pop-up shop for a new nail salon offering manicures for 50 bucks with the lovely things hanging overhead and just out of reach. After hyping it up so much, I felt slightly embarrassed. "So...how was this sold to you?" A. asked while I just stood there with a fake smile plastered on my face. Blah.

It was my first time at PS1 and from an architecture standpoint I liked the idea of converting a former school into an art space. Even the caged staircases were left untouched and took me right back to my childhood days. (A., who's from California, found them depressing and I can't say those were my favorite details in my own schools.) As for the exhibitions, well he and I share similar opinions about contemporary art ("So, um, why exactly is this in a museum again?"), but it was fun to wander around and stumble upon some real oddities: a cucumber phone, a mouse peeking from the staircase wall, video clips of an artist interview taking place in a tub at The Standard hotel, some trippy abstract paintings that left A. mesmerized and me plain cross-eyed, and lastly, discovering that a teeny nude woman had fallen into a sea of lava through a hole in the lobby floor. I felt like Alice. Even the giant tinted windows framing the snowy outside seemed like a video installation of an eternal winter.

Afterwards, we walked a couple blocks over to 5 Pointz, an iconic warehouse that's completely covered in graffiti. I'd taken photos of the place for last year's Souvenir Foto School and was surprised to learn that some of the art gets painted over so the building keeps changing. After all that work, I'd want my stuff plastered on there forever.

It's 3 in the afternoon, we're covered in snow, but nowhere near wanting to end our adventure so we decided to seek warmth and sweets at Doughnut Plant, where the donuts are absolute heaven. My new fave: a peanut butter square doughnut filled with blackberry jam. I order a second. The snack was good, but we had another treat while sitting in the bakery: a random conversation about New York City bookstores and print versus digital with a Brooklyn man sitting next to us. It was such a pleasant conversation, I almost didn't want to leave, but felt badly for the other patrons waiting to sit with their own snacks. It did make me wonder just how many wonderful conversations could be passing me by just because I don't let strangers burst into my personal bubble too often.

Two hours were spent at Barnes & Noble perusing every floor and countless aisles, grabbing books, holding them tightly hoping it'd be the one that would come home with me only to let them go at the sight of another more interesting title. In the end, Best of the Best Lesbian Erotica was the day's chosen one.

Din din was at Vanessa's Dumpling House near Union Square and because, once again, we still didn't want our day to be over, we caught a showing of Silver Linings Playbook (trés bien, by the way), and then laid in bed in the dark talking about the movie, mental illness, and motivation until I finally fell asleep.

For some reason, on Saturday morning I'd woken up teary-eyed and, knowing full-well that I cannot, that we cannot for quite some time, my first words to A. as I rolled over to nuzzle my face into his was "I want a baby." It's not like we'd ordinarily have one anytime soon, but to have that choice taken away from me - no matter if temporarily - has been one of the hardest things to accept about battling the cancer. So I let that moment come, I let him comfort me, and then I let it go knowing that in order to fully normalize, I have to accept this reality of mine with all its chinks and strengths.

So when A. decided to master the art of the French toast on Sunday morning because his future children needed to know the beauty of a well-made batch, I smiled and cheered. I hope that when our time comes around, we'll be happy and ready. That we'll take the next five years to uncover all the bits of us and add found pieces to our collection of awesome. I'll be a nurturing and eager mom and I know he'll be an attentive dad. Or at the very least good at distracting them with breakfast while I sneak in a few more hours of sleep on mornings after a full day spent exploring.

A Pep Talk from Kid President

There's been so much good buzzing around these days what with Porcupine Hugs slowly garnering attention, the weather getting slightly warmer, and tonight's graduation from radiation. I'm feeling great, but if you're not, Kid President has a few choice words for you. I meant to share this weeks ago, but life...it flies.

Happy + Exciting News

I'll start off by assuring you that I'm alive and well just incredibly busy and somewhat tired. I'm on week three of radiation and the treatment has been taking a serious toll on my energy levels. Not only is commuting an hour into Manhattan every weekday evening a pain in the arse, but I've also been working part-time and channeling every spare moment I have into working on my stationery business.

Well happy news: Porcupine Hugs has officially launched! A. coded the website I designed and even taught me a few things about maintaining it, which is nice because I know I've stretched him past his limit and he's been so gracious about it all.

So pop on over to porcupine-hugs.com to browse and shop the card collection and keep up to date with news and special offers by signing up for our newsletter or following the Porcupine Hugs Facebook page. There's so much more to come, believe that.

A big squeeze to all those who've gently nudged me towards this moment (or straight up yelled at me to "get it together!") and those who've patiently heard me talk ad nauseum for the past six years about this little dream of mine. And to my rock star boyfriend who created CSS magic while serving as life coach/drill sergeant, you are amazing.

Image: society6.com