nice cream

sheepish

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 19:59:00 +0000

I have a confession to make. I have not even started on the postcards.

I am writing this to make me accountable and feel a little guilty.

They're coming! Really! I *will* finish them. Unlike the sheepish picture on the right that still has the tentative pencil sheep...

In the meantime, how are you?

xo

getting to know you... when you are lost

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 15:23:00 +0000

Amsterdam *is not* a big city, but this week I managed to make it a very winding place with lots of places to get lost since I was trusting in my "innate" sense of direction. I managed to get lost both going to and coming back from my Dutch classes. Yep. 35 minute bike rides took an hour each way.

Going to the lessons, I was quite flustered and kept mixing up my rights and lefts as I was given instructions (thank god for cellphones and patient men) repeatedly. Took me a total of three (or was it four?) phone calls before I finally made it to my destination out of breath and flustered.

Going home after the lessons, however, was lovely. Yes, I did get lost. But knew approximately which direction to go (east) and so my lostness was sort of fun. I ended up finding all kinds of wonderful neighborhoods I've never been in before and will attempt to find my way back to in the future. (Good luck with that.) I liked being a little lost. It was a mini-adventure. :)

Next time I will bring a map. (I'm actually good with maps.)

So, tell me...

Do you get lost or does your sense of direction actually lead you in the right direction?
How do you feel when you are lost when you have time versus when you should really be somewhere?
Where's the best place you ever got lost?
How about on vacation?
Do you feel differently (better or worse) being lost with someone else or by yourself? (I prefer being lost by myself, since for some misguided reason when I am with someone else and lost I get really frustrated with them. Since it must be there fault. It can't possibly be my fault. I never get lost. Uh...)

As always, looking forward to hearing your answers... (Have I told you that you're awesome?)

make me giggle

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 18:56:00 +0000

I'm bored. So I'm willing giggles.

Not working yet.

Heard any good jokes lately?

giggle [Flickr]

ingridf_nl — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 11:53:37 PDT

ingridf_nl posted a photo:

video distractions: animalcolm, we have a band and garrett murray

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 17:25:00 +0000

The Tourists (2007) from Animalcolm on Vimeo.

"Another transient day at the beach...... In this animated short Malcolm Sutherland lovingly pokes fun at the transient yet timeless life of the beach tourist. Animated ink on paper, made in 2007."

We Have Band - You Came Out (Official Music Video) from We Have Band on Vimeo.

http://www.myspace.com/wehaveband

Shot over 2 days and stop frame animated from 4,816 still images without a single moment of video footage.

My Day, Yesterday from garrettmurray on Vimeo.

(I really love this last one. I want to do this too.)

fava

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 19:42:00 +0000

fava, originally uploaded by ingridf_nl.

Interesting facts about Pythagoras from Wikipedia.

"The Pythagorean code restricted the diet of its followers, prohibiting the consumption or even touching of any sort of bean. The reason is unclear: perhaps the flatulence they cause, perhaps as protection from potential favism, perhaps because they resemble the genitalia, but most likely for magico-religious reasons, such as the belief that beans and human beings were created from the same material.

Most stories of Pythagoras' murder revolve around his aversion to beans. According to legend, enemies of the Pythagoreans set fire to Pythagoras' house, sending the elderly man running toward a bean field, where he halted, declaring that he would rather die than enter the field - whereupon his pursuers slit his throat."

See... yeah. I don't even know how to process this information.

Not that I really need to.

I eat beans. Proudly and loudly.

new hair

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 12:16:00 +0000

So after many months of postponing, I finally went to the hair dresser.

I'm a "member" on this site that lets me try different hair styles before my hair is actually cut. Very entertaining. But frequently the happiness of just trying the hair styles on the website satisfies me enough that I don't actually get my hair cut.

Yep. It's cheaper that way. It's hair fantasy land. And just to reinforce the illusion, I use a really good, slightly over exposed photo of myself that makes me look about ten years younger. Niiiice.

Thing is, it's much easier to choose this pretty hair that I don't have. My own hair is coarse, frizzy, poofy and unless tied back, a bit out of control. So it will never ever turn out like these pictures.

So today, I go equipped with a picture from the site. This one. I think it's somewhat realistic in terms of what my hair can do. Plus a little "cool" so, yay.

I'm liking it, in principal.

After one hour of cutting, thinning, statements like, "It's a bit shorter than you were hoping for, but I think you'll like it. . ." I ended up with soccer mom hair. Oh yea. Super poofy 80s hair. I paid and left shaking after muttering, "I really like it." (Why the hell I'd say that I have no idea. Because clearly I didn't.

Arriving home I rushed to the bathroom, plugged in my straightener, didn't even think of takingyou a fabulous picture of the horror. (Sorry about that. I would have made this whole story much better and more entertaining.

Now I have this. It's OK. I'm OK. I'm breathing. The bangs are not exactly whispy, but it is kind of cool. I think the hair dresser may have been a bit shocked by the immediate poof effect a blow drier has on my hair. Not her fault.

Does it look like the picture I brought: NO. Can it: erm... maybe not... It'll be ok. Give me a couple of days and a headband.

randomness

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 08:27:00 +0000

I'm no videographer... so basically it's just a bunch of random scenes with a little music thrown on top. Will work harder on it next time... I promise. :)

hot summer from nice cream on Vimeo.

music: amanda jenssen, do you love me

red rabbit

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 07:24:00 +0000

Red Rabbit from Egmont Mayer on Vimeo.

(thanks Eli!)

other people's stuff

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 11:36:00 +0000

Other people see wonderful things. :) Here are my favorites on flickr.

I love how other people's stuff tells me stories.

Thanks other people. :P

blurbs... about meetings, expectation and intent

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 20:59:00 +0000

...this morning's stream of consciousness... (they don't go together. they just represent little scenes.)

"Did you sleep well?" you asked when I came into the kitchen, still yawning and bleary.

"Fine," I lied.

"Coffee?" you asked.

"Yes please," I said, reaching for the steaming cup you held out. "I really need it."

Truer words were never spoken between us.

We shook hands. Nervous. Sweaty. A bit of shaky shaking.

It was much easier to meet online where physicality did not intrude.

But then, we found our common ground. Here. For real. And we laughed together and we heard each other's laugh. For real.

I had all of my very best anecdotes at hand. Prepared wit. And a jaunty and self-assured smile, practiced, to go along with it.

I was not ready for your openness and candor.

It stripped me bare left me wordless.

You thought I was really boring. I'm not really. I just thought you'd be more fake.

I arrived, late and out of breath.

I handed you the wine bottle and you nodded and smiled at me, not smiling.

That night was awkward. Full of pauses. The elephant squashed the air out of our lungs. He took up even the smallest spaces.

We had no words.

A girl with glowing skin and a shiny brown pony tail sat in front of me on the tram.

Her pony tail swished back and forth, silky and flowing.

I realized I had scissors in my purse.

I heard the bell of the ice cream truck coming.

My heart made a "pitter patter" of anticipation, but I am on a diet.

So I just remembered its creaminess, wistfully.

In the park, a little girl mistook me for her mother.

She ran towards my legs and joyously wrapped her arms around them.

For a second, a whisper... I pretended she was mine.

"Do you want to lick the bowl?" you asked.

For some reason, I hesitated.

And in that second you turned saying, "that's ok," and plunged it into the soapy water in the sink.

morning coffee, mourning coffee.
humble pie.
a recipe for disaster.
you are what you eat.

queue cards

cue cards
flash cards
memory cards
recipe cards
index cards
mostly blank
full of intent
no action
useful
unused.

Photos by oooh.oooh, Sébastien Magro, Adrian Midgley, tsmyther, kim scarborough, Steve Wampler, wiccked, mollycakes, hawkexpress

motivation

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 18:19:00 +0000

So, there's the stuff you really want to do, for which you don't really need a nudge. For example, drinking a glass of beer on a sunny patio with friends. Easily done. There you are. Life is fiiiine.

Then, there are things which are possibly more beneficial in the long run, but for which you don't necessarily have the same instinctive desire. Say, cleaning out the vegetable drawer of your fridge because there could be some sentient life in there, or doing that little extra project you know will be glad that you did but are semi dreading since you are chronically afraid of failure or of underachievement.

Yeah.

That's where I'm at.

Any useful mind games that work for you? Do you use incentives, cold hard self-discipline, or guilt?

Image by ricko on Flickr.

many, many postcards to send

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 07:30:00 +0000

You guys are awesome! I'm looking forward to writing you.

I'll try to send all of the postcards by Monday, so that you'll get them in the next week or so.

Have a fantastic day lovelies.

i'll send you a postcard (5)

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 19:10:00 +0000

It all started half a year ago, when I discovered the joy of sending you a postcard.

I think it's nice to get real mail, and in this cyber world, it's also nice to get something you can touch, and feel, and if you're me, smell. (Kidding.)

So, if you would like me to send you a postcard you can e-mail me your address and I promise that you'll get something in the mail.

ingridlovesme @ icecreamisnicecream.com

I hereby promise not to abuse your trust by doing anything nasty with your address. I will only send you sweetness and light. And maybe some sarcasm, because that's what I do. (**For those who I've sent mail to before, please resend your address since I seem to have stupidly deleted the folder that I was using.)

You're fabulous, supportive, and otherwise generous to be sticking around my erratic blog. Thank you.

Let me thank you with real mail.

(The lovely postcard above is by the fabulous Esther Aarts.)

more ze frank joy: five people

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 08:06:00 +0000

More awesomeness from Ze.

HardTimes :: Five People from ze frank on Vimeo.

stuff i noticed lately: randomness

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 14:16:00 +0000

Click on images to go to the sources.

kidlauncher from connors934 on Vimeo.

bungee cords, plastic and water makes for launched kids at
Camp Kaleidoscope in Cambridge MA

getting to know you: o how are you

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 09:17:00 +0000

O How Are You, originally uploaded by wokka.

Really...

1. Best thing that happened last week?
2. Thing you are most looking forward to this summer?
3. Weirdest food you like to eat?

Have a wonderful day.

feeling ranty and superior

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 19:40:00 +0000

I feel like having a rant but I am repressing the impulse, since inevitably I end up blabbering in a snarky, hypocritical and bitchy way.

It's that whole, "point one finger, and five are pointing back at you" thing. (As Marinka points out in the comments, I screwed up this saying... but was picturing other hand in a fist. At least that's my excuse.)

Am more faulty than I want to 'fess up to.

Resisting. Resisting. Resisting.

Thinking bitchy thoughts but not writing or saying them.

My tummy is messy. Maybe this is why I feel like this.

OK. Going away now.

Ignore me.

Bye.

Let's just say I feel like biting off heads of naturally skinny people, who have never had an overweight day in their entire lives, giving me diet advice. If it was easy, I'd be slim and toned. F*ck off.

pauline (7)

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 19:08:00 +0000

Read part1, part2, part3, part4 , part 5, or part 6... or continue...

As Pauline lay on the couch of the psychotherapist, she took in just how different it was to be in a different chair.

"I've started hating my patients," she began.

Her therapist said, "Pardon?"

"Hating them," reasserted Pauline. "Lately, I have no compassion. They come into my office and all I can think is, 'What a whinger.' I know its wrong. I know this means I should probably take a break. I just want to point out to all of them that the world has real problems... Plus I date inappropriate men," she threw in.

She expected the therapist to say, "Go on," since that is what Pauline would have said at this point, but she just stared. Pen poised over notepad. Not moving. This made Pauline very uncomfortable.

Pauline looked back at the therapist and said, "Well? What should I do?" knowing full well that she hated when patients asked her this question.

Not answering, the therapist jumped up and said, "I don't think I'm qualified to take your case."

"But..."

"No. I really think that you should see someone else."

"But I...."

"I won't charge you for this session, but let me tell you one thing."

"What?" replied Pauline, hanging on every word, hoping for some grain of truth.

The therapist looked nervously at her bitten fingernails and said, "I know exactly what you mean. Exactly."

Cartoon by the fabulous Dan Piraro.

stickers

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 23:16:00 +0000

to be honest, i have no idea what i was thinking when i stuck these on my face. it occurred to me that putting stickers on my face was the most exciting thing i'd done all day, so i took a picture.

yeah. exactly. what a waste of stickers.

you get that sometimes.

stickers.

wasted.

don't you?

inappropriate thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 21:58:00 +0000

"I think I'll eat that spinach so that I have green stuff stuck between my teeth. I'll smile at people sweetly and see what they do."

Have you had any inappropriate thoughts lately? I overheard a guy saying, "That's the sexiest camel toe I've ever seen."

Shudder.

a saturday in june

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 10:27:00 +0000

Last year, I decided that I would take a comedy improv course to help me with my fear of speaking in public. I thought by doing something as terrifying as deliberately making a fool of myself in front of strangers, anything less than this would become easy.

The first few classes, I think that our class (initially twelve people) all felt a little awkward. We spent some time figuring each other out, our humor and relationships with one another. But within weeks, I think we realized what a lucky thing we had found... what a great chemistry we had. The original twelve is now only seven, but I feel so privileged to have had this experience, to have met these people.

It's like I have the opportunity to play like a little kid every Saturday. To make believe. To really push the limits of imagination. I love it more than I can say. :) Plus we laugh a lot, amidst bawdy jokes, questionable humor and lots of ridiculousness.

We've now completed the first two levels of courses, first two performances, and have another couple of levels to go. It is a wonderful thing to make an audience laugh. Wonderful. The first time we performed I was terrified (not sleeping the night before) and on Friday, because I was exhausted from other things, I was only nervous about 10 minutes before we performed. Everyone was awesome and the audience (which packed out the place) laughed a lot. Wonderful. (you can't really ask for more can you?)

Anyway, yesterday we went for a fantastic boat ride through the canals of A'dam. Wonderful day. I have met lifetime friends, I am sure. I am lucky.

Here's a pic' of the Gag Bangers. (Yeah. That's our name. Shoot me now.)

that summer feeling

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 20:42:00 +0000

I had a really lovely day today. Perfect in fact. To carry on that summer feeling, some summer fun:

jumpin' on the beach: getting to know you

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 14:00:00 +0000

jumpin on the beach, originally uploaded by ingridf_nl.

Hiya. I've been thinking a lot about life, aging and things are that precious. More specifically, I've been thinking about childish joyousness. . . the sweet freedom children seem to have that we lose (at least in part) with age.

Getting to know you... when you're childish:

1. What do you miss most about being a kid?
2. What do you still do that others might think is childish?
3. What is a misconception you had as a kid?
4. What was your favorite treat when you were a kid? Is it still a treat now?
5. Where was your safe place when you were kid? Where did you feel free and uninhibited?

Beautiful story by Stuart McLean on Vinyl Cafe. Jump ahead to 26:45.

life: a temporary post

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 15:08:00 +0000

Without getting into details, it has been a very sad week following the death of someone beloved. While I am not the daughter, the son or the wife involved, it is someone I knew for some time and loved very much. And whose humor, wisdom, practicality and generosity remained til the last day.

When talking about death, I have always been very cavalier. But now I know that those platitudes and false conceptions I had in no way addressed the horribleness sadness of now. A wise friend once told me that she did not know how to respond to other's grief until she experienced it herself. I now know a little of what she means though my relationship is no where as close as hers was.

Thank you sweet people in the world who know to silently hug, who respond well to inappropriate humor and who are just there. Thank you.

It's like the world has shifted and that nothing is real. This will feel differently over time, but my god. . . right now . . . this feeling. It's the worst thing. It's the missing and personal sadness but more, it's the sadness of seeing the heartbreak of his family and friends, those who knew him longer than I did. The gap left missing is huge.

There such a frailty in grief, which is combined with emotions that are so fierce by comparison, people's faces crumble as their hearts are overwhelmed with too much.

My god.

x

isn't she lovely?

noreply@blogger.com (ingrid) — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 21:30:00 +0000

via Emily. :)