a big thank you. a new york minute. and a sign?!?

May has been one mammoth month that had me out of routine.  It’s been a while since I’ve allowed myself the rare pleasure of social existence.  I — a homebody, who allocates the bulk of my free time to staying in and creating stuff and blogging here about said created stuff and being a telephone junkie —  socialized (in the flesh) through the month of May.  Mind you, I am no recluse at any degree.  I thoroughly enjoy company.  It just happens that most social outings leave me with remorse at the consequential lack of productivity.

This month was different.  My parents came to town for a few days.  I enjoyed the company of old friends and former co-workers by dinners-out and random congratulatory visits to my home.  It’s been a wonderful, welcome interruption to an otherwise methodical life.  Getting engaged has filled me with sooo much love from all the people in my life I’ve come to know — including you!  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your warmest and fondest wishes!!!

O.T. came back to my side of the continent for the second time this May, this time for a possible job in the east coast.  He had an interview in Albany a week ago on a Friday.  I skidded out of my office parking lot that afternoon and found myself in Albany seven hours later.  We decided to drive the extra few miles to New York City for a brief weekend getaway.

Having taken the car and driven into Manhattan, we didn’t accomplish much at all.  We crawled through traffic nearly the entire afternoon on Saturday.  From my car window, the view was consistently as such: a stampede of pedestrians sifting through the streets amidst a sluggish stream of taxi cabs and cars.  I felt moments of deliriousness (architect Rem Koolhaas’ book “Delirious New York” is nooo misnomer).  We have 5 million people here in T.O..  The Big Apple has 8 million.  The difference is apparent.

One strange thing happened in New York that got me deep in thought. ..a sign??

I  already came to the conclusion over half a decade ago that I am a magnet for low-probability circumstances that beg the question — What are the chances?!?  As you’ve come to know the story of my fateful meeting with O.T.,  I cannot explain the non-coincidences to which I am often exposed.  However, I go with the flow.

My gas light turned on as we entered Manhattan and we consulted with the outdated five-year old GPS my brother lent me.  The old sage showed us several gasoline pump symbols on the screen and advised us of their locations in range of my car’s position.  We chose the closest.  And through the thick of pedestrians, cabs, and cars, we managed to go into the location suggested — where no gasoline station is actually in existence.  Instead, in its place was Martha Stewart Living.

In the compacted, colossal, complex city of New York, I was led by a dysfunctional navigation device to a place of crafty worship, that of my crafty deity!  What are the chances?

I once toiled over a job application for Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia.  It was back in 2009.   In July of that year, on a flight from Manila to Detroit, as I pondered the future of my already dying business, I had something of an apparition.  I realized that very moment, somewhere over the Pacific, that my real love is not the wedding invitations I was making, but the act of making.  The joy is in the process of conceiving ideas and bringing them to life, whatever those ideas may be.  I dreamed on that plane that I will craft the rest of my life under the guidance of Martha Stewart and I will have the platform to be able to produce things that people can use and enjoy, and in turn, I will fulfill my calling.  I broke the reverie to turn to my dad to my left, then brother to my right, and uttered the words “I will work for Martha Stewart.  It’s what I’m meant to do.” to which they replied with unspoken bemusement.

It wasn’t long until October 15, 2009 (a momentous day as it happened to be O.T.’s milestone 30th birthday, of all days), Martha Stewart was hiring a Crafts Associate!  I scrambled through the coffers, and submitted three of my favorite works that would summarize the diversity of my ideas.

Of course, we all know I didn’t get that job nor get close to getting that job.  I know somewhere buried in a drive of thousands of digital resumes and portfolio samples was mine.  But I didn’t let it hinder me from continuing to do what I’ve loved to do since I learned to hold a crayon.   A year later, in October of 2010, it occurred to me that I have all available platforms to share my crafty ideas with the world.  So I started this blog.

Last weekend, when my GPS unknowingly led me to Martha’s studio as opposed to a gas station and while being confounded by the improbability of that very circumstance, I was reminded of the very big dreams I had only two years ago.  Maybe 2009 wasn’t my time.  Maybe the heavens have given me this nudge to try that dream again.  Maybe this one brief, bizarre experience in New York is a harbinger to be heeded.