up on the watershed

it's over? what?

2009-12-31T14:52:00.002-07:00

It's hard for me to believe how fast 2009 disappeared. The first half largely sucked but the second half was quite good to me and overall, I'd say it was a decent year. I'd like 2010 to bring more awesomeness.

1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before? Ran a half marathon, went to lots of new travel spots.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I didn't have any. Win! I had a mid-year resolution and succeeded at it pretty well, though.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Yes! My cousin did.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No. This year was blessedly funeral free (again, thankfully).

5. What places did you visit? Too many to list, as I traveled more than 66 nights this year. Highlights: Denver, Madison, Alaska, and the Deep South.

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009? Career clarity. (Still!)

7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Hm. Hard to say--the last full weekend in October, for sure (heartache!), the week I spent in the South.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Finding my way again, in almost every facet possible.

9. What was your biggest failure? Letting 'em get the best of me.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? My foot was jacked up after the race for awhile, but nothing permanent or noteworthy.

11. What was the best thing you bought? All of the travel, new running shoes.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My loved ones continue to be awesome.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? No one I can really think of.

14. Where did most of your money go? House fund and travel (same story, different year!).

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Alaska, new possibilities and fresh starts.

16. What song will always remind you of 2009? "Down" by Jay Sean. It's in my head constantly.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier.
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner!
c) richer or poorer? About the same.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Relaxing.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Working, laundry.

20. How did you spend Christmas last year? In Milwaukee and Madison, per usual.

21. Did you fall in love in 2009? Nope.

22. How many one-night stands? Zero.

23. What was your favorite TV program? Oh man, the best thing I watched this year was Gossip Girl. For real.

24. What did you do for your birthday in 2009? Handed out candy for Halloween, ate delicious party food, went to Mass, had brunch, and lounged on the couch.

25. What was the best book you read? "Bonk" is both smart and funny.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery? Hm. I really don't have an answer to this one.

27. What did you want and get? Awesome trips and some good companionship.

28. What did you want and not get? A new job and a house.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? The Hangover.

30. Did you make some new friends this year? Always.

31.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? See 28.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009? Trendy school marm.

33. What kept you sane? My friends and family.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Pass.

35. What political issue stirred you the most? All this healthcare hoopla.

36. Who did you miss? My family.

37. Who was the best new person you met? I can't pick just one.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009. "Work is love made visible."

v. funny, world.

2009-11-28T18:28:00.003-07:00

Smart writers always include disclaimers. Good people lie, good people make bad decisions, good people will disappoint you. Good people, it turns out, can break your heart if given the opportunity.

So I've been dealing with that for the last several weeks, but the Universe was not through with me just yet. On Wednesday night, I got into the airport late and went to the rental counter to pick up my car. I'd reserved a compact car and the clerk asked if I still wanted that class. Yes, I said. I want something small. Okay, she said. I am going to put you in an HHR.

At this point, two thoughts ran through my mind simultaneously: one, an HHR is not small and two, that's what my most recent paramour drives. I had, myself, driven it for the first time just weeks earlier. Eff. But the clerk was nice, it was late on a holiday evening and I didn't want to give her a hassle, so I signed the contract and headed to the garage.

Where I found my car, in stall 91, to be the exact same make, model AND color as his. Haha, Universe. Haha.

But no. That wasn't the end of the funny jokes to be played this weekend. When I went to return the car less than 48 hours later, my aunt was about 10 minutes behind me as I needed to refill the gas tank before she picked me up, carless. I got lost on the way to the airport, losing a few precious minutes. When I finally arrived at the last gas station before the airport, I was woefully behind schedule and didn't want to keep my aunt waiting any longer than necessary.

It was at the precise moment that I realized the neighborhood around the airport is not exactly the kind of place you want to be friendly to your neighbors and yet, I could not figure out how to open the tank. There was no button in the car, no button on the key fob, no lever to pull, no little indentation in the tank cover for manual use. Nothing.

I spent more precious time searching for a way to open the tank and panicking because I could not figure out how I was going to get gas in the car, avoid the 6.99/gallon fuel charge and not totally inconvenience my loved one. After several minutes of exploration, it dawned on me that the only person I know who drives an HHR, let alone knows how to open the tank, was the paramour. And for a few minutes, I was convinced I was going to have to call him to ask how to get some damn gas in that car.

Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and I found the manual, which told me that all I needed to do was press on the rear of the gas tank door and it would open automatically. Press. Press. Press. Press. Nothing. The door was not moving. Thoughts of having to call the only HHR owner I know were flooding my mind again when suddenly, I slipped a nail under the cover and was able to wedge it open.

Crisis, as they say, averted. But Universe, you are ON NOTICE. No more harshing my mellow, please.

overheard on the phone

2009-10-23T15:58:00.002-07:00

Her: Hey, we should go see that new Michael Moore film. I think it's called Capitalism: A Love Story.

Him: Ooh, yeah. Let's go see that this weekend. And then we can go shopping.

and then 3 months slipped by

2009-10-03T16:13:00.007-07:00

Have you ever felt like your life was made for you?

Let's deconstruct that question for a second. Presumably, YOUR life should be made for you. But how many of us are living a life we love, that we're happy with, that we can think the best of? Some friends of mine were discussing this a few weeks ago and I was as surprised as anybody to realize that yeah, since this summer sometime, I've routinely felt like my life was made for me to live. It's a good life, a happy life, a just life. The perfect life for me.

On July 1st, I made a commitment to change some things in my daily life, to bring a different energy to the world, and to make better choices for my body and to treat it well. I've done all those things and I have to say, I've been blown away by the results. I'm happier, healthier and more energetic than I can remember being in years. I know it sounds like I drank the Oprah Kool-Aid, but believe me when I say that since that day, I've been in a great place.

I'm as surprised as anybody to be in this place right now, both literally and figuratively. As alluded to below, I pined for my hometown so fiercely last year that I am flabbergasted to find myself charmed by my current town, loving my job, and feeling like I'm doing the best work I've ever done. No one, including me, thought I'd be in this place, this mental space, right now. But here I am.

A couple months ago, post-July 1st, I watched as a good friend of mine mouthed some Salt-N-Pepa lyrics, complete with very intentional eye contact, to her husband while we all danced, sweaty at a house party:

What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man. . .

Her message was unmistakable; she'd been looking for a good man and she'd found him. I left that party, that night, happy for my friends and also feeling as though something finally clicked in my dating psyche. I've never really set out to find a good man. Of course, I've dated and loved some good men. But I wasn't looking for them per se. I was looking for someone interesting, someone quirky, someone educated, someone progressive, someone bitingly sarcastic. But "good" wasn't on the list of qualifications and usually, once "good" was on the table, there was a marked decrease in interest on my part.

So I set about my business and began living this life that feels like it was made for me. And then one day, as if I conjured him up from my many lists of desirable qualities and even more that I didn't even know I desired, my good man showed up.

Don't mistake me, here, for someone saying her life is perfect because she's found a great partner. No. It's too early to write the final(or even next) chapter in this story. But I have to believe, if I am to believe anything at all, that finding my good life, feeling as though my life was made for me to live, and being truly happy with myself had a little something to do with attracting the same. He's got the right potion.

i think

2009-06-27T18:44:00.004-07:00

..I am ready to write again.

My goal, nay dream, for 2009 was to return to my hometown, purchase some property, and continue my quiet life filled with the company of family and friends and familiar sites. That dream is unlikely to be fulfilled this year and while I have spent the past several months preparing for that reality and feeling sad about it, I'm returning to this blog with a fresh perspective.

I've just recently returned from a week-long roadtrip through the South. I'd never spent time in Alabama, Missisippi, Louisiana or Arkansas and I can now say that I have (and could have spent several more weeks down there if it was financially prudent and I had the time). This was a roadtrip, loosely based on seeing important sites of the civil rights movement, that I'd been dreaming about for a very long time. I met some wonderful people along the way, was moved to tears more than once, marveled at the scenery, felt exceptionally privileged to be able to take the trip and met some longtime friends for the very first time.

Traveling is part of my identity, now, and while I was down South I realized that sometimes, travel is about relaxing or needing a change in scenery. The better kind of travel is the kind that broadens your perspective and your worldview. The best kind is the kind that changes your life. This was that kind of trip.

I have spent so long pining for Madison and making it my goal that it was startling to realize, again, there are other places in this country I could happily live. The hills of Birmingham hummed to me. Mid-town Memphis was a treat and a place where I felt at home.

I suppose I'm at a sort of crossroads in my life. I am still young enough to switch careers, to move cities, to get another degree, to start all over again. For a long time, I did not think that was what I wanted, since I've been moving every two years since I was 22 years old. When I leave here, I will have resided in the same place for the longest period of time since I was 18 years old. This is a terrible place for a single, vibrant, intellectually curious woman to spend her 20s and yet, I can't help but think I've been given this gift of not being able to leave, the gift of time to reconsider some things.

I'm not saying I've changed my mind about being in close proximity to my family. If anything, my desire to be closer to them is stronger than ever. I just now find it in conflict with my desired work (same story, different day) and some of my future aspirations (to finally open my foundation, to run a B&B, to be beholden not to institutions but individuals). And not to be all first-world-problems about this, but the pisser of the situation is that I could take off, now, and be financially okay for a good long while. That is a privilege I am never able to forget, particularly because it came at the price of losing my matriarchs. But there'd be nothing left and I haven't yet worked up the courage to even sketch out that risk, beholden as I, the self-styled iconoclast, am to social norms and institutions.

if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it

2009-01-14T15:53:00.002-07:00

That's all. Just needed to remind myself.

tradition, now.

2008-12-31T08:25:00.003-07:00

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before? Went to Europe and other assorted new-to-me places.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Kind of. I kept some of them, but failed at keeping track of them.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Yes! My aunt and a friend.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No. This year was blessedly funeral free.

5. What places did you visit? Madison, Boise, Madison, Atlanta, Ft. Myers Beach, Madison, Chicago, Las Vegas, Spain, Italy, France, Madison, Cincinnati, rural central Ohio, Madison, St. Louis, Milwaukee, Kansas City, Madison, Madison, Madison.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008? Career clarity. And a cute boy to snuggle with on my couch wouldn't be bad.

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? May 31 (left for Europe), August 10 (break up in the most spectacularly heinous fashion ever), my birthday (pretty awesome).

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Getting better at my job, starting to run again, using my passport for the first time.

9. What was your biggest failure? I don't think of much that happened this year in terms of failure.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Not much--just a few garden variety illnesses.

11. What was the best thing you bought? My plane ticket and cruise.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My loved ones continue to be awesome.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? No one I can really think of.

14. Where did most of your money go? House fund and travel.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Europe!

16. What song will always remind you of 2008? I'm not sure. Currently "Womanizer" is stuck in my head, so maybe that'll work. Except it should really be "Manizer" to describe my year.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier.
b) thinner or fatter? About the same.
c) richer or poorer? Richer?

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Running and cooking.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Driving.

20. How did you spend Christmas last year? In Milwaukee and Madison, per usual.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008? Not yet. ;) What? There's still like 12 hours left!

22. How many one-night stands? A lady never tells.

23. What was your favorite TV program? I don't have one, but I love watching the shows on DHC and TLC that show various aspects of the human condition.

24. What did you do for your birthday in 2008? I woke up to sunshine and 70 degree weather, headed to the winery with awesome friends, had a great meal, and overall, a wonderful day.

25. What was the best book you read? Wish I had an answer for this, but there were few great books in my life this year.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery? Griffin House via other bloggers.

27. What did you want and get? Inner peace. And some tiny diamond studs for my ears.

28. What did you want and not get? A house.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? Milk was very, very good.

30. Did you make some new friends this year? Always.

31.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Less of The Crazy.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? Personal fashion concept?

33. What kept you sane? My friends and family.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Pass.

35. What political issue stirred you the most? The presidential election, of course.

36. Who did you miss? Madison and its inhabitants. My mom.

37. Who was the best new person you met? I can't pick just one.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008. It's about trusting yourself.

days go by

2008-11-30T18:16:00.003-07:00

I can't let November pass without an update. It's been an overwhelming month filled with lots of joy, but also some sadness, since it was a month of many firsts without my mom. I celebrated my birthday on a bright and sunny day with wonderful friends and good wine and food. For the first time in 8 years, the candidate I backed was elected to the White House, but my mom didn't get to see the first person of color elected to the presidency, and I know she would have been thrilled. My mom's birthday was a few days later, which made for a tough week. We celebrated Thanksgiving this year for the first time without her and while the actual day was okay and full of good things, again, it was a tough week. And my best girlfriend got married this past weekend and..well. You get the point. It's all been a little overwhelming and when you add in the missing mom factor, it's even moreso.

All this to say I'm workin' through some shit right now (mostly by running, but also by turning increasingly introspective), so please excuse my blogcation.

actual exchange via text message

2008-10-27T15:43:00.003-07:00

Me: It's cold. I don't think I can do this. Let's all move to Puerto Rico.

Matt: Do what? Be cold? Because I got news. You don't have a choice.

Me: PUERTO RICO IS A CHOICE.

(we seem to have this exchange every year around this time since I moved back to the Midwest.)

May 2, 2009

2008-10-19T16:48:00.002-07:00

I've been spending an awful lot of time lately planning vacations I'll never take and lusting after houses I will not buy. After several weeks of this, I've grown tired of myself and have started accepting that major changes in job, geographical location, and housing aren't as near as I'd like them to be. Still, all of this dreaming and house lust indicates to me that I do need change and that I do need some distraction.

So I signed up to run the Indy mini-marathon in May. There are people at my work who are getting together to train and support each other, but believe me, I will need as many cheerleaders as I can find. I've idly talked about training and running for a half for awhile and now I have the spreadsheet with which to do it. The plan for the rest of 2008 is to get myself back in 5k shape and then begin training in 2009 for the race. I haven't run a step since May, so my first workouts this week should be...interesting.

never fear

2008-10-18T16:47:00.001-07:00

Feeling discombobulated after going through airport security? Don't worry! The Milwaukee TSA has you covered:

random and (mostly) unrelated thoughts

2008-09-27T17:19:00.002-07:00

There comes a point nearly every day at which the headlights on my car are at once necessary and useless. This dualism, and it only lasts for a few moments, is usually around the time the sun has set so low as not to be visible anymore, but not so low that it isn't doing its best to give off its last bits of light to the world around me. The world, then, is still illuminated, so the lights on my car do not seem to light my way. And yet, the illumination is waning strongly enough that the lights are necessary to indicate to oncoming cars that I am, indeed, present.

***

I listened to a fairly famous author speak recently and she explained that in her memoir she had purposefully made her mother into a sort of vague, enigmatic character, because her mother is still alive and objected to her telling the story of their family home. Conversely, she was able to tell the truth of her father, who is now deceased. A student asked her if we would have to wait for her mother to die to learn the truth of her. People gasped all around me, but the author was non-plussed.

She supposed yes. You know, she said, that's really the horrible thing about being a writer.

I nodded vigorously.

***

Premise 1: Pretty much everyone is crazy, in one way or another.

Premise 2: The key, then, to finding a suitable long term partner is to find someone who A) can tolerate your crazy OR B) whose crazy matches your own.

Discuss.

Liliana's: Madison, WI

2008-09-15T16:34:00.006-07:00

My favorite women and their favorite men (who happen to be among my favorites, too, but in a slightly more platonic way) and I headed out to Liliana's in Fitchburg on a recent Friday night. Liliana's attempts upscale Cajun cuisine in a lovely, eclectically decorated space named after the owner's daughter.

We were seated promptly at a table near a window and a small fountain in the middle of the dining room. A backserver brought us fresh baguette and, curiously, a plate of balsamic vinegar and oil sprinkled with pepper. The bread was pronounced good by all at the table before we even received our drinks. Liliana's features some local and regional beers on tap and I ordered my beloved Spotted Cow to accompany what I hoped would be a spicy meal.

To start, Kevin ordered a chicken, bacon and wild rice chowder that he pronounced very good. Zach ordered the buffalo pork shoulder which came with toasted bread and homemade giardiniara, which both he and Kristin (and maybe Jess) enjoyed. I started with the salad of the day: baby field greens with herbed montrachet, walnuts, red onion and honeycrisp apples picked by Liliana herself that day. It was topped with a light apricot vinaigrette, though I admit I had a hard time tasting the apricot. The salad was fresh and crisp and the montrachet was a good complement to the sweet apples.

Between the five of us, we ordered only three different entrees but all were pronounced tasty. Kristin and I decided to go halfsies on the jambalaya and the pasta Liliana. Kevin ordered the pasta Liliana while Jess got the pasta buscatini and Zach went for the jambalaya.

The pasta Liliana featured fresh broad noodles tossed in a red pepper cream sauce and topped with shaved parmesan, andouille sausage, chicken and blackened shrimp. Kristin especially enjoyed the lightness and spice of the cream sauce and described the andouille as "smoky, mild, and flavorful" and perfect for a sometimes-reluctant sausage eater like her.

The jambalaya was served in a huge bowl over white rice and featured andouille, tasso ham (which is not really ham at all, I learned), lardon (strips of bacon-like fat), and blackened shrimp. The sauce was very spicy, as promised, and went perfect with my beer. Both Zach and I really enjoyed this dish though we found ourselves with lots of leftovers, which we deemed "bowls of pork." My only complaint was that the blackened shrimp, while good, were few.

Jess's pasta buscatini is ordinarily served with mushrooms, but she asked to skip those. The fresh linguine tossed with a pesto cream sauce and roasted red peppers was good, but she later said she wasn't sure if it was $14 good.

In all, I believe our total bill was around $110 for three drinks, three first courses and five entrees, which given the level of service and quality of the food, seemed like a decent, if not every Friday, sort of deal. I liked Liliana's and hope Madison likes it enough to keep it around. Judging from the dinner crowd on Friday evening, I may not have to worry too much.

numero seis

2008-09-09T17:58:00.002-07:00

Wedding #6 is over and it was a simply lovely time on a lovely day in Madison. More content coming later this week!

2008-09-03T17:53:00.003-07:00

Alive. Less angry, less stunned, more tired having worked the last 30 days straight (or maybe more, I've lost count). Am heading home to Wisco this weekend and I cannot even begin to express my sheer and utter joy at the opportunity to see my peeps again.

lucinda knows my rage

2008-08-17T07:01:00.003-07:00

Dude I'm so over you
You don't even have a clue
All you did was make me blue
You didn't even make me, come on!

You're so self-involved
You're in some kind of fog
You're hung up on your hog
You didn't even make me, come on!

You think you're in hot demand
But you don't know where to put your hand
Let me tell you where you stand
You didn't even make me, come on!

Dude you're so fired
Shut up, I'm not inspired
All I'm feeling now is tired
You didn't even make me, come on!

You weren't even worth it
I'm sorry I ever flirted
The effort wasn't even concerted
You didn't even make me, come on!

All you do is talk the talk
You can't back it up with your walk
You can't light my fire, so fuck off
You didn't even make me, come on!

Sometimes, all you can do after a break up is thank your lucky stars that someone so careless didn't waste any more of your precious time. That and "truly angry and stunned" are where I've been most of the week.

and another thing

2008-08-09T22:03:00.001-07:00

I got highlights on Friday:

I love them!

what up

2008-08-09T09:32:00.003-07:00

I am so far removed from my trip to Europe right now that I think it comes as no surprise that the travelogues are tabled indefinitely for awhile. I have wonderful pictures and notes and I will revisit them sometime in the fall(ish), possibly saving that writing for when I really, really need to be transported back to the streets of Florence and Paris.

Last weekend, I was in the wedding of a dear friend of mine from college. Hers was #5 of 8 for the year and I'm still trucking along. If I were a more creative, motivated person, perhaps I would have parlayed the Year of 8 Weddings into a book deal. Instead, I am happy to celebrate with my friends, buy new dresses and travel every now and then to share in someone's joy.

We are on the cusp of "we are effin' crazy" time at my job; my staff returns on Monday and I will work for about three weeks straight with little the way of time away. I am excited and far, far less nervous and cranky about this prospect than I was last year. It is really sort of amusing to me to think about where I was this time last year and how I have grown as a person, and in this position, and make the comparison to this year.

I managed to make a couple new friends this week and I am very excited. They are local to my town and we have sociopolitical interests in common. In fact, I am headed to one friend's home for dinner this evening to meet her family. I'll spend the rest of the weekend taking care of business for the impending work weeks of doom and likely spending some time with Jeff before time becomes so scarce.

I'm in a good place and I certainly know how lucky that is.

2008-07-21T09:17:00.003-07:00

I was not there, so I can only take my family members' words for it, but a week before my mom died and after she had been admitted to Hospice, she was radiant. She just looked, according to my uncle, truly beautiful. Not at all sick, not at all tired, not at all haggard as you might expect anyone whose body was preparing to exit to look. Her eyes, which had always been green, turned a piercing shade of light blue. When I saw them for the first time a few days before she passed away, I could not look away, even though they shocked me.

My uncle suggested, and I am inclined to believe him, that the transformation was one of her turning into her transcendental, divine self before passing away. I don't think she knew about the change in her eye color; we certainly didn't talk about it. But my mom had always been quite proud of her excellent eyesight and had planned to donate her corneas after death. They were harvested and sent off wherever those things go. I went about life thinking how great it would be for someone to share in my mom's gift of sight.

But maybe in the process of turning into her divine self, something went wrong with her eyesight. Maybe that's what caused the change. I don't know. All I know is that the next time I was home, there was a letter saying that Mom's corneas were not able to be used after all. I was left thinking that maybe it was a fair tradeoff for the radiance in those few days.

quarterly recap the second

2008-07-06T10:36:00.002-07:00

I know, I know. I am a travelogue withholding shrew. I haven't been in much of a mood to write much lately, but I do plan to keep plugging away at chronicling my trip. For now, if it would please the court, I will revisit my yearly resolutions:

Completed:

4. Oregon.
5. Get a passport.
7. Take a belly dancing class at least once, to try it out.

6. Use it [the passport].

Done! 12 days in Europe. 3 countries. A lot of water. 8 cities. It was glorious, as you already know.

In Progress/Omnipresent:

1. Be healthier.
Still doing alright here. Second quarter saw a dramatic upswing in regular, daily physical activity. But then I went traveling for a month and it all got pushed aside (well, except when I was in Europe and walking 5-8 hours a day). I am hoping that getting back to my regularish work schedule will help me routinize this again.

10. Write more.
Trying, trying. I think I need to give myself a writing project, like revisiting an old paper and trying to get it published. But don't hold me to that.

No Progress/Holding Pattern:

2. Rhode Island.
Likely on hold until the fall or, dare I say it, 2009.

3. Vermont.
Same!

8. Go to Drinking Liberally Indy at least once, to try it out.
Last time I said I'd shoot for April, this time I'm not even going to be that bold. It is still on the list of a priority activities for me, but is pretty close to the bottom of the list.

9. Get a regular volunteer gig in my community.
I'm still struggling with what or how this should be. I did recently join a philanthropy circle through which I will be doing some sporadic service, but I'm not convinced that's what I envisioned for myself when I set this goal. I think I need to think more about my time and how/where it can be best spent.

2008-06-29T17:37:00.003-07:00

I am still working on more travelogues and hope to have a few more to publish tomorrow, before my staycation comes to an abrupt end on Tuesday. I've spent the last week and change being and feeling incredibly domestic. I baked no less than 3 times, made pancakes and several other meals from scratch, tried my hand at making a homemade dressing this evening, did a lot of cleaning, planted some herbs on my windowsill, and just generally caught up on life and with friends. It's been a lovely week, though I am looking forward to going back to work owing to the fact that I actually have some idea as to how to do my job this year, so it is that much more exciting to welcome a new staff and start a new year/semester.

ch-ch-ch-changes

2008-06-29T05:05:00.003-07:00

I updated the sidebar a bit with a new photo, some links to my favorite or most interesting entries, and some links to other sites I frequent, thus making it impossibly long. This is all in honor of having written in this space for more than 3 (!!) years now. Hope you enjoy!

travelogue, day 3: cannes and nice, france

2008-06-27T09:42:00.003-07:00

I woke up at 8AM to a pitch black room, which was a truly odd experience (but made for great sleeping most of the time!). I showered and got ready for the day, fully expecting to spend it alone wandering Cannes. After grabbing a quick breakfast in the Windjammer, I got in line near the pool to receive my tender boat ticket, as we were not able to dock directly at Cannes. They were calling Boat #5 as I received a ticket for #10 and 15-20 minutes later, called my boat for boarding.

I got on the top deck of the small tender boat and saw Steven and Fiona get on my same boat, though they had to sit at the bottom. We waved and exchanged greetings. Cruising away from the ship was really neat and gave me an appreciation for just how large the ship really is:

Of course, the views of Cannes were fantastic from this distance, too:

When I got off the tenderboat, Steven and Fiona were waiting for me and asked me to join them in going to Nice. I readily accepted and we walked through Cannes, trying to find the train station. Eventually, we found it and bought our tickets to Nice:

We had some time to kill before the next train, so we strolled some more through the streets of Cannes before boarding the train:

I shared my seat with a lovely young Spanish woman who had lots of family with her. As we sped by the coast of southern France, it was absolutely breathtaking. We went through quite a lot of small towns and villages before arriving in Nice. Here is the hotel opposite the train station (which in itself was quite gorgeous and I regret not taking a picture of it):

We wandered around Nice for awhile before deciding it was time for lunch. My companions, bless their heart, asked if I wanted to eat at a “KFC or something,” perhaps believing all Americans are all about fast food? I assured them that, no, I’d really rather eat at French café if that was alright. We found a cute one and settled into the table. I ordered a croque monsieur with a salad and a Coca Light:

Diet Coke in Europe is amazing. It is much better tasting than the stuff we get in the states, but I didn’t figure out why until later in my trip (stay tuned for more ramblings about the nature of Diet Coke!).

After lunch, we walked towards the pebbly beaches. The rocks on the beach were smooth but fairly good sized—at least as big as my palm. Though I think they’d be lovely for the warmth factor, I’m not sure how comfortable all the folks laying out and catching the sun could have felt. Steven and Fiona laughed at me when I pulled out my little baggie to grab some sand from the French Riviera. They joked that a French cop was coming my way and I better hurry up!

We (or rather I) did a fair amount of shopping and came away with two new casual handbags from a French Claire’s-like store. I admitted to Steven and Fiona that France was hard for me because my default reaction to “foreign languages” is to speak in Spanish. I was constantly saying “si” to store clerks when they were really waiting for me to say “oui.” When we were in a perfume store shopping for that perfect fragrance, a clerk approached us. I was too engrossed by the options to hear her and so Steven said to me, “Hey, she wants to know if you’re doing fine.”

“ssss…I mean, OUI!!!!!!” I said really loudly, and my companions burst out laughing. The clerk was at least a little amused, too.

Shopping in Nice was my first exposure to the Frenchies' love affair with tiny, yappy dogs. They were everywhere, including in this department store:

We caught the train back to Cannes in the late afternoon and snoozed on the “choo choo,” as we decided the universal word for train was. In Cannes, we found the film festival building and red carpet before heading back to the tender boat:

My overall impressions of Cannes and Nice were that they were nice towns in beautiful surroundings, but they didn’t hold much allure for me. Sure, I’d go back if someone took me, but it probably wouldn’t be my first, second, third or fourth choice for a vacation destination in Europe.

Once we were back on the ship, I relaxed for awhile and then got dressed for formal night in the dining room. Because it was formal night, I allowed myself to have a slightly more swanky (read: caloric) meal that I ordinarily would choose. I started with shrimp cocktail:

And had the sliced filet of beef with mushrooms, asparagus and mashed potatoes. I ordered it medium but it didn't come that way, as you can see:

Dessert, a grand marnier soufflé, was quite good:

My dining companions got a kick out of my continuous picture taking of the food and often had to remind me after my first bite to remember to take the picture (as seen above with the souffle)! Dinner seemed to go so slowly that evening and it took forever for us to get out of there, which made me a little cranky. The waiters singing for the dining room almost made up for it:

Here I am in all the splendor of the dining room on formal evening:

(uh, something about the wrap is making my midsection seem a lot wider than usual. weird.)

I think I went to bed at a decent hour after doing some research on Florence and Pisa, which were my stops the next day. I also called the spa and booked a pedicure for Friday morning, during our long day at sea headed back to Barcelona.

travelogue, day 2: barcelona, spain and the navigator of the seas

2008-06-25T09:43:00.002-07:00

I woke around 7AM and headed out to walk Las Ramblas and take some pictures. It was incredibly deserted at 8 AM and just a couple hours later would be crowded with street performers, tourists, and lots of vendors. I found La Boqueria, the famous Ramblas market:

And wandered the stalls for quite some time, passing singing fish mongers, and lots of vendors setting up their fresh and dried goods. I passed an absolutely stinky sheepshead and saw some very gorgeous fruits and fish, among other things:

I headed back to Grau to pack up and store my bags and then went next door to Bar Centric for breakfast.

I know now that I definitely should have ordered a café con leche, as the server asked me several times if I wanted one and everyone else was drinking it! I went for a sort of Americanized breakfast, knowing I’d need some protein to get me through til I could eat again later that afternoon (and not knowing when, exactly, that would be). So fresh squeezed OJ (amazing), an “omelette,” and “toasts” it was.

After my leisurely meal, I took a seat and people watched on Las Ramblas:

Too soon, it was time to gather my bags, haul up a small hill near the Hard Rock Café and grab a taxi from the congregation of them there. After a little bit of earnest communication, the taxi driver understood where I was trying to go and got me to the port in good time. My bags were taken by some porters and I got in the very, very long line for check in (even though most of the checkin process had been completed online):

My first impression of the folks working for Royal Caribbean was not that great—everyone but me seemed to get a flyer with a map of the ship and instructions for a 4:30 drill and importantly, the first places you could start feeding your face once on board. By the time I realized the flyers had passed me by, three separate agents were unable to find one in English for me.

After getting my boarding picture taken, I made my way to my cabin, 1283 on Deck 10, and snapped a few pictures of it. It was more spacious than I expected it to be. The bed (2 twins put together) was large and inviting, there were lots of cubbies and storage spaces, a nice, comfy couch with a coffee table and a spacious closet. The bathroom was small (and the shower smaller), but fine for 1 person and her ridiculous amount of cosmetics.

I headed up to the Windjammer Café to get some lunch. The Windjammer is the buffet on the ship and while I managed 2-3 meals there throughout the week, I was never, ever impressed with the food. Still, I was able to find some veggies (in such high demand while traveling!). Interestingly, the host at the buffet asked, straight up, why I was alone. I had no interesting answer for him and was slightly offended by the question, but got over myself eventually. The real answer was that I was alone because I could be, I suppose.

I desperately wanted to take a nap, but there were a lot of announcements happening over the PA system for the upcoming drill at 4:30. Promptly at 4:25, I donned my stylish lifejacket and joined my fellow passengers on the deck at my appointed station:

At 6 PM, I headed to the Schooner Bar to meet up with some other folks from Cruise Critic and talk about possible travel plans later in the week. It was a lovely time and I was so lucky to meet Brenda and Rick, and Steven and Fiona. They would prove to be good friends and friendly faces throughout the cruise.

I was nervous for dinner in the formal dining room. For those of you unfamiliar, you are seated with other folks for dinner each night and my worry was that I might get seated with say, a group of 5 that all knew each other. My fears were completely unfounded and I feel incredibly lucky to have gotten seated where I did, for a number of reasons. First, our table was near the window and so we had a wonderful view of the sea each evening (though the sun was sometimes a problem, our waiters were always great at lowering the shades as needed). Secondly, these two crazy German ladies were the highlight of my evening, every evening:

Noreen and Doreen were both in their thirties, friends, and doing back to back cruises (this was the second one and thus their second week on the ship). They were so much fun and so friendly and so lovely.

Thirdly, Maria from Detroit was celebrating her 40th birthday by also taking the cruise solo. She was a sweetheart and it was a lot of fun to hear about her travels during the day.

I have heard that RCI food is a cut above most cruiseliner food (particularly Carnival, but not necessarily Celebrity). It was alright--I didn't eat anything all week that absolutely blew me away, but I did have some decent meals. That first night I started with a onion and gruyere tart, which was quite good:

And then followed it with a lackluster spinach salad, and some okay shrimp ravioli nestled on a bed of braised spinach and topped with fried leeks:

Dessert was a dark chocolate cake with cherries soaked (allegedly) in kirsch. It was serviceable, though chocolate is never my favorite:

After dinner, Maria and I headed to the opening night show in the theatre. It featured a Charlie Chaplin impersonator, a singing cruise director and some truly amazing aerial artists from Eastern Europe. Bed called my name after the show and so I went back to my cabin to rest up for the next day. After we set sail, I was amazed at how little the ship seemed to move. I didn’t have to get my sea legs at all on this cruise, which I was pretty thankful for. Our first day in port would be in Cannes and I had few plans but to wander around and take in Southern France.

525,600 minutes

2008-06-25T09:26:00.001-07:00

I'm interrupting your regularly scheduled travelogues to mark time. I'd be remiss if I did not point out that a year ago today, June 25, at approximately 9 AM EST, I walked away from Tucson. In actuality, I drove, but it was a true walking away. I walked away from a love that was no good for me and a social circle that, for reasons I still cannot fully explain, had become incredibly toxic. I walked away from a house and town I loved, and a ring of mountains that still take my breath away when I look at them in pictures. I walked away from the best decision, even considering all the last minute heartbreak, I'd probably ever made in my adult life, diploma in hand, having accomplished what I moved there to do and so much more.

I am happier now than I was then, maybe happier than I could have ever hoped to be there, despite how painful and heartwrenching it was for me to leave. Still, a year here and I have come to appreciate this little town and its quirks. I am good at my job, and am recognized for being good at it on a regular basis. I have made some truly fantastic and wonderful friends here. I feel loved by them, and my friends and family elsewhere, in ways that I never appreciated until I learned to open myself up to small town rhythms. I am growing and cultivating myself in ways I could not seem to discover in Tucson.

Really and truly, I hope I never forget how fortunate and blessed and just plain lucky I feel on this day to be in this place, at this place, in my life.

travelogue, days 0 and 1: indianapolis, in and barcelona, spain

2008-06-23T16:10:00.004-07:00

My flight was scheduled to leave Indy around 2 PM on Saturday, May 31st, so asked my friends Lindsay and Luke to take me to the airport a little after 10, knowing we’d have a bit of a drive. I was working on only about four hours of a sleep, having decided to exhaust myself so that when I got on my transatlantic flight later that evening, I’d be able to sleep at least a little. L&L arrived, we loaded my luggage (Luke, as he was lifting my suitcase into his trunk, “Jeez! Do you have a body in there?”) and dropped off my car for some much needed body work, scheduled to get done while I gallivanted around Europe.

The ride to the airport was uneventful and full of fun chatter. Too soon, I was saying goodbye to my friends and thanking them for the ride. I weighed my suitcase and found it was 3 pounds over the limit, so I took some books out and shoved them into my backpack (in a bit of a panic a couple nights before, I went to Barnes & Noble and loaded up on guides for Italy and France, as well as an Italian phrase book. I’d had the sudden realization that “OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO ITALY AND I DO NOT SPEAK ITALIAN and OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO FRANCE AND I DO NOT SPEAK FRENCH”). Security, etc was easy enough and then there was the wait.

See, the evening before we’d seen storms of really impressive caliber. I’ve lived in the Midwest a long time and I’m not sure I’d ever seen trees bend the way I saw them bend in the view from Jeff’s apartment. As it happened, the storms moved on to the northeast, precisely where I was hoping to get that afternoon. To make a long story short, I sat in the Indianapolis airport for 5.5 hours before we were finally able to board our plane. We couldn’t get clearance to leave due to the storms in Newark and I watched my originally very well planned and very cushioned layover (3.5 hours) get smaller and smaller by the minute.

We did eventually leave Indy and there were passengers on our flight in much worse shape than I, though I knew my connection would be tight. None of it fazed me though, something that I needed a witness to and so I called Mel to say precisely that. “I want you to know that I’ve been sitting in this airport for 5 hours and it’s questionable whether I will make my flight to Barcelona once we finally leave. If this had happened 6 months, a year ago, I’d be flipping my shit. But..eh. I’ll get to Europe eventually. It’s a little like I’ve smoked all the pot in the world, but haven’t actually touched anything since that one summer at that one music festival. CAN I GET A WITNESS?”

When we touched down in Newark, I had 30 minutes until the scheduled departure of my flight and they were well into boarding when I finally got off my plane. Terminal C is enormous and of course my new gate was on the opposite side of the terminal. You’ve never seen a fat girl run so fast through an airport, friends. I can only imagine how comical it was to observe, since I was laughing about it my own self. When I finally reached my gate, red faced, sweaty and out of breath, they were calling the absolute final boarding. I was the last person to get on the plane and when my seat mates granted me access to my window seat, I collapsed into it with a heavy, sweaty sigh.

And then we sat on the tarmac for 2.5 hours.

No matter, we left eventually and made up some time in the air. I had a really nice woman sitting next to me. She and her siblings had all brought their children on a big family vacation (which apparently their parents pay for each year) for a cruise through the Mediterranean. They were on a different cruise line than me, but we had fun talking about our different ports. She really was sweet and had a great sense of humor and a wonderful Tennessee accent.

When we touched down in Barcelona (now 1 June), I was feeling pretty good. I’d had a few hours of sort-of sleep on the plane and so wasn’t as tired as I thought I’d be. It was an easy trip through immigration to get my visa stamp (woohoo! First stamp in my very first passport is Spain—the way it ought to be!) and then to the luggage carousel to get my suitcase. It never appeared, so still undaunted and just so darn happy to be in Europe, I went to the counter to file a claim. The clerk was sweet but made me a little nervous because she said Continental was not very good at exchanging information about the whereabouts of luggage and she seemed fairly concerned I was planning to get on a cruise ship the next day. We finished up the claim and she briefly mentioned that sometimes they put luggage on the next flight which would be arriving around 1:30 (about 1.5 hours from then).

I was poised to leave the airport and check into my hotel, but decided to stick around for the next flight to arrive. I reasoned that an hour and a half wasn’t too long to wait and I’d rather have my luggage in hand than wait for it to be delivered who-knows-when. It was a bit of a gamble, knowing that my time in Barcelona would be limited, but it paid off as my suitcase was one of the first on the carousel when the next flight arrived.

I made my very first European ATM withdrawal but sadly did not get any coins, which I was hoping for because I was super thirsty and in need of a diet coke. I got in the taxi line and after some broken exchanges, my taxi driver understood where we were headed: Hosteria Grau, just off Las Ramblas.

Check in was easy, though lugging my suitcase up two flights of windy stairs was not, so much. However, my room on the second floor was remarkably clean and newly renovated and met my needs just perfectly:

I had to ask the clerk to help me figure out the lights, as I didn’t realize I had to insert my room key into a light switch to complete the circuit for the room. Once that was taken care of, I took the world’s most welcome shower and changed clothing.

Before I left, I had booked and paid for a scooter tour of Barcelona. Exhausted, I had to really talk myself into going on the tour and am I ever so glad I did.
I was the only person to show up for the tour at the appointed time and this was the scooter I was going to drive:

At least, it was the scooter I was going to drive until I did a test drive and Lalo, my unbelievably good looking 29 year old Italian tour operator, said, very sweetly, “Um, maybe you will feel safer riding with me?” Riding on the back of a really hot guy’s scooter? A really hot guy with an accent? From Italy? Through the streets of Barcelona? OKAY.

And that’s how I spent 2 hours touring Barcelona with a man who despises George W. Bush nearly as much as I do and to whom I taught the word “cocky” (also in reference to Bush). He was even sweet when I launched many of my ungraceful dismounts of the bike. Those hours were two of the most fantastic in my life—it was just the most surreal experience to be zipping up and down the streets of Barcelona, climbing Montjuic on! a! scooter!, viewing La Sagrada Familia from afar, passing bullfighting protestors, seeing Port Olympic and so much more.

Eventually we made our way back to the tour office and kiss kissed on the cheek to say goodbye. I walked along Port Vell for awhile and stopped to get some gelato and do some people watching. Eventually, I hailed a cab and headed back to Grau. I grabbed my travel journal and made some small talk with other travelers in the comfortable lounge area before checking e-mail and dashing some notes off to family and friends to let them know I arrived safely.

Then I retreated to my room to do some reading. I managed to stay awake (barely) until about 10 PM, at which point most of Barcelona was just getting their party started, but I figured was a late enough bedtime to not mess me up too much in the coming days on the ship.

monument-al

2008-06-17T10:35:00.002-07:00

So my dad and I finally picked out a gravestone for his and mom's dual plot yesterday. We got a double header (heh) and it was generally easy and not at all stressful (though there were a lot of decisions to be made). Dad kept deferring to me because I'm "the one who will have to look at it for the rest of my life."

However, just as we had settled on the design of the monument (as they are called) he said, "Oh, now we just need to add a cross."

"A cross? You want a cross on there?"

"Yes."

Now let me pause and explain that my parents were never terribly religious people and did not raise me in any particular faith, though they identify themselves most strongly with Catholicism and in the past 2 years began attending services regularly again. I am their agnostic who prays or whatever, and the subject of religion has never been a big deal before--we all seem to live and let live. My dad, in particular, has never been judgmental of my faith or lack thereof.

"Really? Um, but I thought you said I'd be the one who has to look at this the rest of my life."

"All the better!"

Hilarious.

my friends got married

2008-06-16T05:35:00.002-07:00

Aren't they beautiful?

back

2008-06-12T00:34:00.003-07:00

I'm back, jet lagged and all (it is 3:30 AM eastern when I am writing this--slept for 5 hours and my body is all, hey! lazy! time to get up! it's morning where you've been!), with 650 pictures. Stay tuned this lovely, leisurely month for travelogues and pictures up the yin yang. For now, though, I have to turn this ship around and haul ass up to Wisco in 24 hours to celebrate with some of my nearest and dearest, and to meet the newest baby Inaz. And spend some time with a boy I've been seeing. More on all of that later, too.

gone to europe

2008-05-31T04:03:00.000-07:00

Still happy. Catch ya on the flip side, mon ami.

less than 48 hours

2008-05-29T13:14:00.001-07:00

..before I leave and I CANNOT find the daypack I was planning to take to Europe. Panic, panic.

it came back.

2008-05-18T13:24:00.005-07:00

Picture this: I am driving home from running some errands and the sun is shining brightly. Out of nowhere, it feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders and I am smiling like a fool. For a long time now, the last time I can remember feeling really, truly happy was around my 26th birthday. That's a long time to go without happiness. It is 1 year, 6 months and 17 days, to be exact. But it came back and I cannot stop talking about it.

Partly, I attribute this to the love of some very good friends and family. People who worried about me, and prayed for me, and loved me despite the fact that nearly everytime we talked over the last two years, I had something even more damaging to share than the last bit of news. People who believed I would be okay, even when I didn't. And it's true; there have been countless times when I didn't know if I would be okay again. I have always tried to surround myself with good people, loving people who understand me, and so I have so many of you to thank for seeing me through.

I am not only okay, but I am happy.

Partly, I attribute this to finding again some of my own locus of control. Us control freaks do not like it when it is wrested from our very hands. But if anything, I have learned to let go and now, more than ever, make my own experience and take advantage of shared experience, as well. It is true that the losses and sadness of the past two years are still a part of me, and in many cases, likely will remain so for a very long time. But they are no longer an injurious part of me, looming overhead. And the proof of this is that I am smiling again.

back to life, back to reality

2008-05-17T07:18:00.002-07:00

Well, I've nearly made it through my first year as a baby administrator. Our seniors graduate tomorrow, my halls are mostly closed with the exception of some stragglers, and I didn't have to light anyone's shit on fire ala Angela Bassett to get them out (though I thank Jana kindly for the tip). If you've ever wondered what it's like to be on the other side of that cushy dormitory you lived in your freshman year, I offer this mock outgoing e-mail and voicemail that my friend Aliya wrote this week:

Hello,

My name is Alison Inaz and yes, I am probably the person you would like to talk to. Before you leave your message, I have a few directions, thoughts, and words of advice for you:

1. We have a website for a reason. The dates and times of move out are listed on this website and have been since the beginning of the semester so whatever little Joaney or Peter communicated to you was probably wrong or a lie. Next time, check the dates yourself!

2. Contrary to popular belief, we will leave your child standing on the side of the road with all of their belongings. Yes it may be raining and yes wild animals do run the streets of our town but again a policy is a policy so we all must abide by it.

3. When you come to move your son or daughter out of the residence hall do not ask me for a garbage bag, a box, or anything that will transport items from one place to another. We don't have anymore and if we did, we wouldn't give it to you because that would mean we have to give it to everyone else. We are cheap! Why do you think we charge $30,000 a year to go to this school. BRING YOUR OWN!

4. And lastly, if your child is filthy, trifling, or just likes to break things it is in your best interest not to fight me on the charges for the damages made to his or her room. You will not win and I am a very persistent so you may as well leave me some money now, because depending on what they have done, you may need to go ahead and make a down payment.

In closing, if your question, comment or concern does not apply to any of the above you may leave your message but keep in mind that I will be dealing with the many other helicopter, control freak, disrespectful and annoying parents so I may not get back to you until next week.

Have a great day!!!

My re-entry last weekend was a little rough. Suffice it to say that it was hard to wake up on Saturday, realize I had no groceries in the house, and then also realize there was absolutely no place in town to get a decent bite to eat after having been in one of the country's culinary meccas. Never fear, gentle readers, my girls and I are headed to the big city this evening to remedy that and do a little carousing.

yellow roses for mom

2008-05-11T08:30:00.000-07:00

Well. I don't have a lot to say about today, except that it is the first Mother's Day in my entire life that I have neither a grandmother nor a mother to call or visit with. Last year at this time, I still had both of them and even got to spend Mother's Day with my mom in Tucson over the graduation weekend, which may have been one of the best gifts we've ever given each other (despite the fact that she drove me crazy for a lot of the trip). It's true that I will be making some calls to my Other Moms to wish them a good day, but it's obviously not the same.

The reality of this hit me while I was in Vegas last week, doing some deep thinking, some of which may eventually make it onto this blog. I don't have a lot of time to feel sorry for myself today, though, as I am doing what I know best to honor them both. My mother and my grandmother were consummate hostesses, in very different ways, and so I am spending my day preparing food for the bridal shower my friend Aliya and I are throwing for our friend Lindsay tomorrow evening. Using the cooking and menu planning skills my mother taught me, and taking some lessons on hostessing from my grandmother, is the best way I know how to remember them today.

My grandmother loved flowers and plants, and my mom especially loved yellow roses. I have only ever bought yellow roses for one purpose--to give to my mom on Mother's Day. I bought these this year in memory of her:

2008-05-08T19:45:00.002-07:00

Hi.

I am in Vegas, taking a wee break from the action. Guess who gets the shit blogging award for only posting 4 times in the last 6 weeks and nothing in the last month? Yeah, that'd be me. I've been out living my life again, y'all, and I gotta say--this month, maybe this week especially, I have never loved being 27 and single more. More later, friends.

2008-04-07T05:10:00.002-07:00

A few months ago, my auntie suggested I join her and a good friend of hers in Ft. Myers, where she would be enjoying a timeshare for a week.

That one small suggestion is how I ended up on a booze cruise last night with mostly white, mostly over-50 folks, listening to a terrible German or Scandinavian cover "band" while somebody's grandma pole danced to "Man! I Feel Like A Woman" and somebody's grandpa karate danced to "Play that Funky Music," after having won $400 on a slot machine.

My life? AMAZING.

40 years

2008-04-04T18:23:00.002-07:00

I had the great fortune of being in Atlanta this week and spent an afternoon at the Martin Luther King, Jr. historic site. It was strange to be there; today marks the 40th anniversary of his assassination by James Earl Ray and I expected more activity, more buzz at the memorial site. I cannot help but wonder what Dr. King would think of our nation today. Would he be proud that Barack Obama is gunning for the Democratic nomination? Or would he be disappointed that it has taken 40 years since a nation was robbed of a great civil rights leader? I don't know the answer to these questions, just as though I have no idea what the state of the nation would be had he survived that evening in Tennessee. I hope those of us who find inspiration in his leadership, speeches, writings, and yes, even his faith, have done him proud, but I worry about the pace of our progress.

quarterly recap

2008-03-27T15:50:00.003-07:00

Because I like using my blog in new, confessional ways that demand accountability. Heh.

1. Be healthier.
Way better on most fronts. My diet is still not as clean as I'd like it to be, but I'm working on it. My new elliptical stares at me every day and I've been using it regularly. I am no longer inhaling harmful particles on any kind of basis, regular or not. I'm just really at the point where I am tired of carrying around 20 extra thesis/stress/thyroid/who knows pounds and I know how to get rid of them but am somehow still resisting it. I'm tired of listening to myself on this topic, so moving on...

2. Rhode Island.
On hold until at least summer, possibly even fall.
3. Vermont.
Same!

4. Oregon.
Done! I went to Ontario, Oregon and toured a tiny museum. I also found a funky house that sells art and crafts made by local artists. I should post pictures of the gem I found there soon. (Southeastern Oregon smells like onions.)

5. Get a passport.
Got it! I only turned in the app 17 days ago, too. Way to go, US Federal Government!

6. Use it.
In the works, to be completed in June. My plan is to spend the first third of June in Western Europe. I fly into Spain, board a cruise ship that stops in France and Italy and back in Spain and the last half of my trip is yet to be determined. I am hoping to meet up (in Paris? Maybe?) with a dear friend from college who now lives in Germany, but will be happy to putter about Spain for the rest of the time, too.

7. Take a belly dancing class at least once, to try it out.
Did that. Have the CD. I actually signed up for a series of classes but I just wasn't thrilled after the first one. One of the main reasons I wanted to take a class was to meet people, and the class was really small and full of people I didn't want to meet. I'd try it again if it were offered closer to me, but the mid-week commute was a little rough. (PS: isolating entire muscle groups is HARD)

8. Go to Drinking Liberally Indy at least once, to try it out.
Gonna try to hit this in April. Try being the operative term.

9. Get a regular volunteer gig in my community.
Sounds like a good summer project!

10. Write more.
I'm tryin' y'all, I'm tryin'.

2008-03-23T08:21:00.001-07:00

Last night I dreamt that I was having a (hot, torrid) affair with Barack Obama.

Guess we know who's getting my primary vote now...

2008-03-07T14:40:00.004-07:00

We landed in Boise under the cover of darkness last night and so, when I stepped outside this morning and glimpsed mountains for the first time in nearly 9 months, I broke into a huge grin and simultaneous tears. They weren't my beloved Catalinas, of course, but mountains, for better or worse, are the only thing, experience, or person that has ever humbled me. I say this as a woman who has never met an ocean, in whole or part, though I imagine it may have a similar effect. I'll let you know in June after I've been to the Mediterranean.

thank you, mr. donne.

2008-03-01T18:38:00.000-07:00

I am two fools, I know,
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry...

miss you, mom.

2008-02-11T16:50:00.002-07:00

I don't know what to write here anymore because anything I think to write falls in one of two categories: 1) totally insignificant now (though I probably would not have viewed it that way 6, even 3 months ago) or 2) soul-crushingly heart breaking, which is sort of where I've been for the past few weeks. I am made of missing; the motherless child I am now misses her 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There are scant waking hours in which I do not have at least a passing thought about my mom and our family's loss or a completely rude awakening. My most recent one was on Thursday evening, as I left town to drive north to Wisconsin. I was passing through a familiar part of my drive, during which I used to talk to my mom on the phone frequently while I drove that road. I suddenly thought, "Oh! I should call Mom and tell her I am on my way" and just as suddenly remembered I couldn't, which was just as raw a recollection as any moment during her diagnosis, illness, and dying.

On top of that, I have Projection Missing, too. Missing her makes me miss a million other things and people in my life. I miss my cousins, I miss my friends in Wisconsin, I miss my dad, I miss my aunts and uncles, I miss my friends elsewhere, I miss my grandparents, I miss Madison, I miss Tucson, I miss people I have no business missing. It's a little like my heart made room for this giant hole and my emotions are like, "Hey! Hole! Let's throw all these places and people in there, too!"

The only two things I feel like I know about grief, on this side of it, are that grief will make you feel like you're going crazy, and that it could get much worse before it gets better. Oh, people told me that this kind of loss would make me feel like I was going crazy, but I did not believe them. I was lulled into a very false sense of okayness for the first 4 weeks or so after my mom died. I got back into my working routine, had enough to occupy me most of the time, and generally thought that if the sadness I'd felt was the worst it was going to get, I'd make it through pretty well. In fact, I nearly posted here several times that I'd read everything I could about grief and still didn't know how to do it. I don't feel that way now, obviously. Y'all, I changed my mind THREE TIMES about when I was going to go to Madison in February. And not only did I change my mind three times, I had to get coverage for that day three times, too, from a very understanding co-worker. I am not, as many of you know and understand, an indecisive person. I have a decision at the ready for almost anything, and probably a few opinions, too. The indecision that suddenly swamped me last month is only a small part of "oh my god, I'm going crazy" feeling, but an example nonetheless.

I guess I know a third thing about grief, too. In a book I read, the authors said that people tend to grieve in the way they live--either introvertedly or extrovertedly. I have always been a private person, but the older I get the more I trend towards introversion when it comes to interaction with other people. And I can say this is true, almost all of my grieving since the funeral has been private and out of public view, even from my closest friends and family members. I have an aunt that I cannot bear to call back, or even e-mail back, right now because I know I will not make it through the conversation without crying. I also couldn't bear to see one of my mom's closest friends when I was home, though I know that she would have welcomed the opportunity. I have a very (VERY) small circle of people whose calls I will actually answer or return and whom I can even work up the desire to be around right now and sometimes that circle changes on a daily basis. For all my introversion on top of all of the missing, this makes me feel a little crazy, too.

But I do know I need to keep writing, even if it isn't all here. There are so many memories and vignettes, both of my mom's life, and of her last few months and days with us that float around in my head. Some of them have never been shared with another person, but need to be released and re-told nonetheless and I need, need to begin reconciling the relationship I once had with her with the fact that one that no longer exists, in a physical and emotional way, at all.

because i miss my thesis

2008-02-04T19:51:00.000-07:00

Today's news was plump with articles on fatness.

First up, it pays to be fat. Ahahaha. I am just imagining all the jerkfaces who say they care about fat because "it costs America money!" shitting their pants right now, trying to find a new angle to further their hate.

Secondly, some moron in Mississippi proposed a bill that would make it illegal to serve fat people in restaurants. Are you kidding me? First off, fat people need to eat to survive just like everyone else. Secondly, if you were at all educated about the human need for energy, you'd realize that not consuming it can actually lead to fatness. And finally, this gem from a Democrat in the state who is opposed to the bill, "It is too oppressive for government to require a restaurant owner to police another human being from their own indiscretions" says everything there is to say about the stereotypes we harbor about fat people. I mean, clearly going to a restaurant--as a fat person--means that you will be engaging in some kind of indiscretion. It's not at all reasonable to assume that you'd eat a meal the most stringent dietitian would approve of. No way.

it only took 6 months...

2008-01-19T17:26:00.000-07:00

But I finally posted a tour of my apartment over at Flickr. Click that link to start!

To entice you:

hello, my name is awkward

2008-01-19T12:46:00.001-07:00

I can't recall if I've mentioned it here, but one of the things that has been hardest about my transition to small town life is the total lack of anonymity, and in many cases, privacy and the increase in odd social connections. I have been slowly getting acclimated to the idea that yes, I will undoubtedly run into someone I know when I am at CVS buying tampons, or shopping in the grocery store, and that the hostess at my favorite restaurant also works for me, in a way, at the university. But nothing really prepared me for yesterday, when I was idly checking in at my grief counselor's office (in a larger office that sees all sorts of mental health patients, from family therapy to substance abuse and all the stuff in between) and a much more senior, though not immediate, co-worker walked out of the office area and into the waiting room to leave. I didn't even recognize this co-worker at first, that's how strange it was to me to be seeing someone I knew in that setting. My co-worker definitely recognized me and looked slightly embarrassed, but I was staring right past because I could not get it into my head that someone FROM WORK was EXITING the MENTAL HEALTH FACILITY I was at. Even more awkward is that the sign-in sheet confirmed that this co-worker sees my same psychologist. I sort of wanted to mention to her when we met a few minutes later that wow, that was weird, kinda like the time I saw her in the Mexican restaurant at lunch and then had an appointment a couple hours later, but spared her the patient confidentiality issues.

2008-01-18T15:52:00.000-07:00

I just did something a little bit crazy, but about which I am so excited. I signed up for this in February, in Bloomington. This might satisfy my dream of being an entrepreneur, for a little while at least. And it will mean meeting some likeminded local folks, finally. It will also mean juggling my February travel schedule a bit, which I'm not so excited about, honestly, and giving myself three weeks to talk myself out of actually showing up. I'm not sure I even have a lot of business being there, but for my interest in technology and past experience working for a software company. But yeah. I'm a little jazzed.

two daughters

2008-01-10T16:14:00.000-07:00

When I was a baby, my parents (I say parents, but I am guessing this was my mom's idea), had a portrait artist do a pastel of me and gave it to my grandparents as a gift. My grandmother gave the portrait back to my parents several years ago and they hung it in their house, which is affectionately known as a shrine to Alison. There are pictures--school, glamour, and otherwise--of me all over the house. I took this on Christmas Eve before my dad and I left to visit my mom's family in Milwaukee, without her for the very first time.

2008-01-10T07:38:00.001-07:00

It pains me to say this because I have both mixed feelings about the author and about the content of her editorial, but I guess Gloria Steinem and I were on the same page, a little. I do not, however, support her implied position that racism is somehow less a force in our every day lives than is sexism. Not one iota.

2008-01-08T19:17:00.001-07:00

I think it's no secret among progessive voters that this year's Democratic primary is both painful and an utter celebration of progress. It is not so simple to break down the candidates in terms of their genders and races and yet, I know I cannot be alone in wishing for the first black president of the United States AND the first female president. I've said it before--how's a girl to choose?

But it seems as though not everyone remembers the testosterone laden legacy of the Oval Office. To wit, this article from the AP says:

Clinton, the former first lady who finished third in Iowa, was mounting an unexpectedly stiff challenge to Obama in the nation's first primary. ... She had 39 percent of the vote in the Democratic primary to 34 percent for Obama, who is seeking to become the nation's first black president.

I'm flummoxed. Though I certainly think her exposure during her husband's tenure as president has influenced the electorate and likely her own political aspirations and it is thus worth mentioning that she is a former first lady, does it not deserve mention that Hillary Rodham Clinton is seeking to become the nation's first female president?

maybe you've been waiting for these

2008-01-08T16:06:00.000-07:00

1. Be healthier.
2. Rhode Island.
3. Vermont.
4. Oregon.
5. Get a passport.
6. Use it.
7. Take a belly dancing class at least once, to try it out.
8. Go to Drinking Liberally Indy at least once, to try it out.
9. Get a regular volunteer gig in my community.
10. Write more.

to the guy at the club who told me i was a good kisser shortly after midnight last night,

2008-01-01T15:45:00.000-07:00

Thanks.

To the rest of you, thanks, too. (Not for telling me that I'm a good kisser, though really, why don't you say so more often? But for every--and I do mean every--thing). Happy New Year, friends. We're gonna take 2008 by storm.

it's got to get better than this

2007-12-29T14:25:00.000-07:00

I don't know why I bother doing these, since this year was even more shitacular than last year.

1. What did you do in 2007 that you'd never done before? Earned a master's degree in women's studies, lived in rural Indiana.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Didn't have any and yes.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Nope. Lots of 2008 babies, though.

4. Did anyone close to you die? My matriarchs are gone. Both of them.

5. What places did you visit? Mexico, Orlando, B-N, Ill, Greencastle, Las Vegas, many trips to Madison, South Bend, and I think that's it.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007? Serenity. And possibly, my tribe much closer in proximity.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Mid-may (graduation week/end), June 25 (the day I left Tucson), October 30 (Grandma died), December 17 (Mom died).

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Surviving (last year's answer works again!), but I would also add graduating and mounting a national job search and securing a perfect-fit job.

9. What was your biggest failure? It's hard to know, there are so many.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Lots of emotional injury and loss.

11. What was the best thing you bought? I just bought some slippers. You'd think I'd have some, but no.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Many of my close family members, and a handful of my very best friends.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? I have never known anyone so willing to kick a girl when she's down. That's all I have to say about that.

14. Where did most of your money go? Car payments, student loans.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Er. Trips?

16. What song will always remind you of 2007? All of Lucinda Williams' "West" album. There's a song on there for everything I've experienced this year, I am sure of it.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? More relieved, yet probably also sadder.
b) thinner or fatter? Fatter. ugh.
c) richer or poorer? I have no idea.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Exercise, pleasure reading, cooking (all still apply!)

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Receiving catastrophic news, losing sleep, feeling physically unwell, losing friends.

20. How did you spend Christmas last year? In Milwaukee and Madison, per usual.

21. Did you fall in love in 2007? Very quickly, and I fell out of it nearly as quickly, too.

22. How many one-night stands? Well....

23. What was your favorite TV program? I am ashamed to say that I have gotten enormous amounts of pleasure from Bridezillas in the last several months.

24. What did you do for your birthday in 2007? I canceled my party, worked 9-9, and attended my grandmother's visitation the next day. It was a swell week, really.

25. What was the best book you read? Eat, Pray, Love.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery? I didn't technically discover her this year, but Lucinda Williams. And the Plain White Ts.

27. What did you want and get? I got a really great pair of earrings from my mom. And I got a great job.

28. What did you want and not get? I wanted to not feel excluded, I wanted to not feel backed into a corner, I wanted to not lose my mother and my grandmother, I wanted to not feel compelled to leave somewhere I called home for a place that may never feel like home, I wanted some understanding and its corollary, some explanation. That about covers it.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? I guess Sicko or Superbad. My film watching was limited.

30. Did you make some new friends this year? Yep.

31.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Closure, on so many different fronts.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007? Shit, I can't wear jeans anymore?!

33. What kept you sane? A misplaced sense of responsibility.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Bah.

35. What political issue stirred you the most? I am completely unstirred, though I am looking forward to seeing who gets the Democratic nod in 2008.

36. Who did you miss? Tucson.

37. Who was the best new person you met? It's hard to say--they have all been spectacular in their own ways, at different times.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007. Sometimes, rock solid things are not, so much.

how to drive the bereaved crazy over $250

2007-12-20T08:32:00.001-07:00

I made an informed decision, several weeks ago, to take a short trip to Vegas. I needed something to look forward to and to do something nice for myself. I purchased my ticket, after a lot of consideration, on a Friday afternoon. Hours later, I got a call from my dad that my mom had been admitted to Hospice. I spent the next week wondering whether I'd make it to Vegas, and spent the week after that feeling pretty confident that I would, all based on how my mom was doing. I am not in Vegas right now, obviously.

I began the process of seeking a refund on my non-refundable ticket on Monday evening, a few hours before my mom passed away. Here is what I've got so far:

1. Call NWA reservations line. Get a message saying that because of high call volume, I should e-mail them because they can typically respond in 2-3 hours.

2. E-mail NWA about the situation. Get an automated e-mail that says because of high e-mail volume, they will respond to my e-mail in 5-7 days.

3. A day later, get a generic response that my ticket "may" be eligible for a refund and that I should call the NWA reservations line. You know, the one I called in step 1.

4. The reservations agent said I should call some other office, which we will call office #2.

5. I call office #2 and am referred, via automatic message, to office #3.

6. I call office #3 and its automated message says that I should e-mail (did that!) or call the reservations line (did that!) for faster assistance. It then informs me that because all of their agents are busy, they cannot take my call right now, and the line goes dead.

also in my head

2007-12-14T12:37:00.000-07:00

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch him now, here he comes

He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young

Can we climb this mountain, I don’t know
Higher now than ever before, I
Know we can make it if we take it slow
Thats thinking easy, easy now, watch it go

We’re burning down the highway skyline on the
Back of a hurricane that started turning
When you were young
When you were young

And sometimes you close your eyes
And see the place where you used to live
When you were young

They say the devil's water, it ain’t so sweet
You don’t have to drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch him now, here he comes

He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young
--The Killers, "When You Were Young"

in my head

2007-12-06T17:49:00.000-07:00

Are you alright?
All the sudden you went away.
Are you alright?
I hope you come back around someday.
Are you alright?
I haven't seen you in a real long time.
Are you alright?
Could you give me some kind of sign.
Are you alright?
I looked around me and you were gone.
Are you alright?
I feel like there must be something wrong.
Are you alright?
'Cause it seems like you disappeared.
Are you alright?
'Cause I been feeling a little scared.
Are you alright?

Are you sleeping through the night?
Do you have someone to hold you tight?
Do you have someone to hang out with?
Do you have someone to hug and kiss you,
Hug and kiss you, hug and kiss you?
Are you alright?

Are you alright?
Is there something been bothering you?
Are you alright?
I wish you'd give me a little clue.
Are you alright?
Is there something you wanna say?
Are you alright?
Just tell me that you're okay.
Are you alright?
'Cause you took off without a word.
Are you alright?
You flew away like a little bird.
Are you alright?
Is there anything I can do?
Are you alright?
'Cause I need to hear from you.
Are you alright?

Are you sleeping through the night?
Do you have someone to hold you tight?
Do you have someone to hang out with?
Do you have someone to hug and kiss you,
Hug and kiss you, hug and kiss you?
Are you alright?
--Lucinda Williams, "Are You Alright"

lasagna

2007-11-25T15:43:00.001-07:00

I make lasagna approximately once a year. Because I only make (and thus usually only consume) it once a year, I don't bother worrying about using low-fat products. Lasagna is meant as a vehicle for cheese and marinara. I add the veggies for taste and color. The once-a-year goodness usually falls on or near my birthday, but we all know how that worked out this year. Instead, still craving my fall lasagna fix, I made it for my co-workers last Monday night at our monthly dinner. It's easy enough, though certainly not the cheapest or least-time consuming dish to make and I, for one, find the results both impressive and tasty.

Click the photos for advice and directions at Flickr.

a short list...

2007-11-21T19:42:00.000-07:00

of things I now remember, based on the brief stay in Wisconsin I've had thus far:

1. snow makes me angry.
2. people still drive stupid on the Beltline in snow.

2007-11-17T12:23:00.000-07:00

Predictably, there has not been a lot of joy in my life lately. The changing season and early darkness every day are not helping. I have mostly been rolling out of bed, going to work, and wiling away a few hours in the evening before going to bed at an ungodly early hour to start it all over again. Work has been truly hellacious these last two weeks, both in the amount of time and energy it has required when my stores are dangerously low, and the relentless onslaught of crisis after crisis after crisis.

However, on Thursday evening, I had to attend a dance party that one of my student organizations organized. It was a little over two hours of pure joy for me to watch students, who I usually only encounter when something is wrong (and in some cases, VERY wrong) or bad in their lives, just have fun with their friends. There were no crises--just good times and music and happiness. It reminded me why I do this work so that these students can have those experiences.

I also had a happy small town moment today. As I was driving home from running an errand, a black lab was crossing the busiest street in my town, narrowly missing getting hit several times. I am not really an animal person, most of the time. But I didn't really feel comfortable just driving past and not stopping like I'd seen a lot of other people do. The lab crossed and I was able to turn right and call him to me on the safe side of the street. He had no tags, only a shock collar. Two different people--one elderly woman and one 20-something man--stopped to check in with me as I stood with this dog on a busy street corner, trying to determine what the heck to do with him. I don't think I've lived many, if any, places where random strangers stop to talk to the girl who pulled over to get the dog off the street.

The dog was unbelievably friendly and wanted lots of scritches. A quick drive through the neighborhoods in the area didn't yield any owners, so I had to take him to the Humane Society. They were both grateful and annoyed to receive him; apparently, he's been a regular visitor lately as his owners haven't been good about keeping him safe. I was glad to know that he was identifiable and would be reunited with his owners.

best of them all

2007-11-05T12:15:00.000-07:00

Grief manifests itself in strange ways. I just got home from the grocery store. Somehow, during the course of my half hour visit, 3 boxes of cake mix, 1 box of Cool Mint Creme Double Stuf Oreos, and 1 pint of Reese's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream ended up in my cart. I do not regularly buy, nor consume, any of these things. But there they were.

***

When I was in Madison at the end of September, I e-mailed my aunts and uncles and asked them to go to lunch with my grandmother, my parents, and I. Over the last couple of a years, my grandmother has regularly taken out her kids for lunch every week or two and knowing I would be home, she was eager for all of us to get together.

She was convinced that the soreness in her shoulder, the jutting of the bone, meant she had cancer, even though at least two different doctors told her she was perfectly fine. It was typical Grandma lunch conversation and my uncle and I did our best to deflect her fear about her shoulder, to convince her that no, she was fine. She was 85 and in near-perfect health. She took no medications at all. She didn't need to worry; we didn't need to worry.

At the end of the lunch, she rummaged in her pockets, pulled a bill from them, handed it to me and said, "I better give you your birthday present now," for no real reason that I can recall. It was September 28, fully more than a month before my birthday. My grandmother had always been a religious observer of birthdays; I don't think she had ever missed sending me a card in my entire life and so there was plenty of time for her to do that. Still, she insisted I take the gift.

***

My birthday was this past Thursday. Two days earlier, my beloved grandmother passed away unexpectedly after the aneurysm in her stomach burst (it was the other malady she was convinced would kill her, though it was stable for many years) while I wrapped up a conference I was attending in Northern Indiana. Her death was mercifully swift and though I could not be there, I take enormous comfort in knowing that most of my family was able to hold her hands as she passed peacefully.

Over the next couple days, I heard from my cousins--my sweet, beautiful cousins--that Grandma had been thinking of me. Sending a birthday card and gift to Alison was on the to-do list they found in her apartment. A friend of the family told me at the wake on Friday that she had spoken with my grandmother earlier in the week and she had told her friend that she needed to get a card out to me.

Until I left for Madison on Friday morning to be with my family, I was afraid this card had magically made it into the mail and I would find it when I was least expecting it to appear in my mailbox. It hasn't arrived yet; accepting that it won't is the hardest thing.

overheard in gmail

2007-10-25T06:53:00.000-07:00

Me: It's so cold here I think I'm going to die.
Matt: You're a fucking Wisconsinite. Don't embarrass us out there.

time keeps on ticking

2007-10-22T15:29:00.000-07:00

I spent the past two weekends having loads of fun. Last last weekend, I went to the apple farm with some friends here in Indy. There was a corn maze and, as usual, the corn maze was fun for the first 15 minutes until we got tired of wandering around, lost among the corn stalks. Still, it was a blast of a day:

Last weekend I was in Madison for the food and wine show on Friday. I count myself among the luckiest to have spent time with my friend Sh3nery before the show, my cousins and their partners during the show, and Matt and Courtney after the show, on Saturday. I also got some baby therapy on Sunday, when Miss Hannah E turned 1:

I know; I'm pretty much in love with her, too.

2007-10-14T05:52:00.000-07:00

Most days, I think I did okay with what I had and what I was capable of doing. Then there are mornings like this one, when another piece of evidence surfaces, and I realize that I not only had no clue what I was doing, but had no idea it would all end up like this.

more cooking with alison

2007-10-07T15:36:00.001-07:00

If you haven't caught on yet, my "cooking for one" philosophy centers around the idea that there should really only be one pan involved. And often, sour cream and cheese also need to be involved. Hence, Spicy Chicken Skillet, a recipe I developed several years ago.

The first step is to slice some sweet peppers (green here, but red is wonderful), onion (red here, but I typically use yellow), and dice a hot pepper (jalapenos aren't hot enough for me, so I like to use habaneros, but the market was out). Sautee in a wee bit of olive oil til everything begins to soften.

Black beans are a reason to live, so I drained and added a can of them. I've made this successfully with pintos, though, too.

Then add about a cup, maybe more depending on how many servings you want, of shredded chicken. This was 1.5 large breasts, which I'd cooked in the crockpot all day. This works wonderfully with rotisserie chicken if you're short on time.

Finally, add 1/2 to 1 cup of salsa of your choosing. The salsa will make or break your dish, so choose wisely. Pace and Tostitos? Yuck. Pick something good, like Muir Glen or any of the fancier brands. Heat through.

Garnish with cilantro, shredded cheese, sour cream.

to breathe again

2007-09-30T16:02:00.000-07:00

My friends Nicki and Adam were married this weekend and pictures will be forthcoming. The reception was amazing and fun and so very Wisco (there was real butter, real sour cream, real polka, and the servers brought around glasses of milk during dinner). And though by my Nth glass of wine during the Nth to the X power slow song, I was declaring things like, "I'm done with weddings!" and "Weddings are orgies for coupled people!" I really, truly enjoyed myself and am not, obviously, done with weddings, as Nicki and Adam are the first couple in my posse to get hitched.

(Though I am still concerned about the frightening ways in which this particular state project is heralded; ways such as the "Who's been married the longest?" dance that inevitably occurs. The DJ calls all married couples to the floor and then begins winnowing the field by saying things like, "OK, if you've been married for 5 or fewer years, please leave the floor!" Eventually, the couple that has been married longest is left on the dance floor and gets a round of applause. If you're not married, you don't dance. And if you've been married but not the longest, you are summarily dismissed.)

I didn't realize until Thursday evening as I sped north through Illinois that I'd been holding my breath for the last two months or so. The end of July is the last time that most of my posse was all in the same place, together for a rare non-holiday get together. Though I am adjusting to where I live and feel as though I am making meaningful connections with people here, the whole process of relocation, especially in a geographically challenging area, is just so exhausting to me at this moment in my life. Which is to say, it has never been exhausting like this before (relocating to Tucson was exhilarating for me). There is enough going on in my life right now that one of the things I cherish and devote a lot of energy to--building and sustaining friendships--is not receiving its due attention, at least on a local level. I have just run out of steam for telling my life story, teaching people who I am, and the whole process of getting-to-know-you that occurs at the beginning of any type of relationship.

Yet this weekend, once I headed to Milwaukee for the wedding, I didn't have to do any of that emotionally exhausting work. I was surrounded by people (and spoke to another on the telephone) who know me intimately and love me just the same, regardless of my strengths, faults and foibles (see Nth glass of wine, on all three counts). There is something so satisfying about being in the company of friends like that--something I don't think I can fully articulate. But I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for helping me to breathe again.

overheard in bed

2007-09-24T14:57:00.000-07:00

Her: (thinking out loud) Yeah, I really think it's time to have this conversation.
Him: No, no. No, it's not.
Her: No, it really is. Hear me out.
Him: (sighs) Okay.
Her: I'm...(insert long, dramatic pause)...pretty much the most amazing person you've ever met. I just thought you should know that.
Him: (overwhelmingly relieved that it wasn't THAT conversation) Oh, okay. Yep.

That Her is a tricksy one.

my weekend

2007-09-16T14:05:00.000-07:00

(click for larger versions)

duuuuuuuuude.

2007-09-15T13:56:00.000-07:00

One of my photos has been published online.

2007-09-12T15:56:00.001-07:00

I am having A Week. After the world's most exhausting weekend on call (3:30 AM, 5 AM, 1 AM bedtimes on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday respectively), the long and exhaustive conversations I've had to have with students, the caliber of the issues I've been dealing with AND the fact that I found out I have to work the evening of my birthday (my birthday! evening! how is one supposed to have a BIRTHDAY DINNER ON THEIR BIRTHDAY? sigh.), I am ready for the weekend like I've never been. Thankfully better, more fun moments are on the horizon.

gratuitous baby

2007-09-03T16:41:00.001-07:00

Hannah tells me exactly what she thinks of my pants:

(Please to ignore the ginormous diaper on her; I'm bad at cloth ones.)

I think I forgot to mention...

2007-09-01T18:18:00.000-07:00

...that you may now address me as the Putn@m County Fair Bar C00kie Grand Champi0n:

The day I entered, I was easily the youngest person in the room by 20-25 years and I was invited, multiple times, to join the county Homemaker's Club.

the best kind of date

2007-08-26T14:42:00.001-07:00

Starts with a handshake and ends with a kiss. I'm just sayin'.

8 Weeks

2007-08-19T15:58:00.000-07:00

Without the desert. Without the mountains. Without A. Without Casa 921. Without what had been a large chunk of my support system. Without the monsoons and every day sunshine. Without liberal hippiness that permeates everything. Without good Mexican food. Without Mexico a mere 70 miles away.

And surprisingly, I'm doing just fine. How are you?

2007-08-04T17:23:00.000-07:00

I have many stories and observations and pictures to post, but little time in which to do so right now. We're heading into crunch time, or as I like to call it, We Are Effing Crazy Time. I finally moved into my real, permanent apartment yesterday and have begun the long, arduous task of unpacking and the not so arduous task of decorating. It's a little strange having been divorced from most my belongings for nearly 6 weeks. When I began hanging up my clothing in my giant walk-in closet, I found so many pieces I'd already forgotten I owned, merely because they've lived in suitcases for this last month and a half. Last night, I began unpacking my linens. When I opened the box, the freshly-laundered-6-weeks-ago sheets smelled movingly familiar--of Alison and Aaron and Casa 921 all rolled together. And this morning, as I arranged my books on the built in bookshelves in my bedroom, it was like running into hundreds of close friends.

More later, friends. I miss you all.

what i've been eating

2007-07-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a fair amount of cooking since I got here, trying to get back in the groove of making most of my own meals after stress, laziness, and oh yeah, my thesis, totally obliterated that habit last fall.

First up is a pasta salad made with homemade pesto (basil purchased from an organic farmer here in town), Dreamfields pasta, veggies and chicken. As an aside, the pasta tasted just like normal white pasta does, to me, but allegedly has far less "digestible carbohydrate." There aren't too many reports on the actual GI of this stuff. I enjoyed it, but can't say for sure if it meets its claims.

Here is the pesto:

Here are the veggies (broccoli, yellow pepper, zucchini, sundried tomatoes), waiting for their chicken, pasta and pesto friends to join them:

And here is the finished product, which I ate for a million days straight:

Next up is an adaptation of Mollie Katzen's Green Beans and Tofu with Crunchy Thai Peanut Sauce which I adore and first made my senior year of college, lo these many years ago. I wasn't feeling the tofu, so I marinated 3 chicken breasts in soy, garlic powder, fresh ginger, some oil and some Splenda.

First you make the peanut stuff, which I make with peanuts, lime juice and zest. Process until coarse. You add this to some sauteed fresh garlic and ginger and end up with this:

Then I browned the chicken, removed it from the pan, and stir fried the green beans (I used frozen from Trader Joe's, but this is simply divine with fresh):

Combine everything and you end up with this:

..which I also ate for a million days.

well, hello

2007-07-06T18:56:00.001-07:00

I've survived my first week of work. It was a pretty easy one, as my boss and mini-boss are trying to make sure we're well-rested, prepared, and underwhelmed by the time August (and 21 straight working days) hits. I am still enamored with the school and its leadership and my department, but I don't think I really adequately prepared myself for the transition from Tucson to small town, rural conservative Midwest (though I've lived "there" but not "here," before, if that makes sense) and from tight-knit similarly minded community to...not so much. To say I've been surprised by some of the things I've heard and seen is an understatement. My boss more than adequately labeled it culture shock and it is, of course, compounded by the other transitions in my life and possibly more so, the fact that I don't quite have "home" yet due to my apartment not being ready until the end of the month.

However, because I need to get over my culture shock at some point or another, I've decided to actively embrace some of the..benefits? quirks? of small town living and thus, I will be entering AT LEAST one recipe in the upcoming county fair competitions, providing I can figure out how to do that. Information on the Internet is woefully absent in these parts, so I am going to have to make an actual phone call (holy cow!) to the office that coordinates these things. I'm thinking that if there's a cookie competition, those ridiculously bad for you chocolate oatmeal caramel bars are definitely on the docket.

I may also repeat my Tucson culinary tour in a slightly different way--there are probably a dozen little local restaurants in this town, none of them terribly good, but I may as well make some kind of goal of getting to know them all, for the sake of something to do and for when guests come (COME VISIT. PLS. BRING CACTI. AND SPOTTED COW. AND GOOD MEXICAN FOOD.). Bring on the spreadsheet, baby!

I've also started running again because, well, it's past time for me to do something nice for my body and mental health on a regular basis, having taken the last year and change off from any type of regular training and exercise. There are some truly excellent places to run around these parts (where the sun doesn't burn your flesh, either!) and I've been enjoying those in the morning.

Um, this is starting to sound like a "What I Did With My Summer" post in a weird sort of way, so...T-Rex out!

happy independence day

2007-07-04T15:17:00.000-07:00

just turn the corner, the stars are packing up mercilessly.
and i'm staring up at the bombs bursting in air
and i'm pondering the reverance for the ramparts red glare
and i'm wondering how relevant ramparts are
cause divided we stand and together we're falling
on this fourth of july in denver,
i proudly hail the twilight's last gleaming
as i stand sadly white skinned in the perilous beaming
embarrassed and ashamed at what my people have been doing
a progeny of hostages, chattelry grooming
like cattle, like the trade block, like death row
men lined up for their last independence meal
their last independence meal.
it's the fourth of july in denver
and the sky is bursting
the sky is bursting.
--excerpted from "Independence Meal" by Alix Olson

A truck adorned with two confederate flags flying behind it sped through campus the other day. When I relayed this and other stories of my first week back in the Midwest to my father on the telephone, he told me he guessed that I'm now back in "normal America." I told him "normal America" scares me. That's all I really have to say right now on this, the 4th of July.

if today had a theme, this would be it

2007-06-25T17:56:00.000-07:00

Can you fix this? It's a broken heart.
It was fine, but it just fell apart.
It was mine, but now I give it to you,
Cause you can fix it, you know what to do.
--Dar Williams, "Family"

another turning point

2007-06-24T18:37:00.001-07:00

Ciao, Tucson. Love y'all.

2007-06-21T16:31:00.000-07:00

I, of course, picked the hottest day of the year (so far) to move and ship all of my worldly belongings. The projected high was supposed to be 109, but I have no idea what the actual high was except So Searingly Hot That My Seatbelt Burned My Fingers.

I took 10 boxes to UPS and 250 pounds of books to the Post Office. The lady at the post office was pretty surly at first--apparently she had a back injury awhile ago and can't lift much (I have some sympathy for that, but all it took was asking one of her co-workers to do the lifting for her and besides, I am fairly certain that her job description probably requires her to be able to lift as much as they will ship). She wasn't thrilled to get me as a customer and interrogated me as to the contents of the packages (I sent them Media Mail, the cheapest way I know how). When I told her that they were all books (slight lie, but it is all media--books, CDs and magazines) she looked incredulous that someone would have five! whole! boxes! of! books! They were stamped with "MEDIA MAIL (pending inspection)." I wonder how they inspect? X-ray?

At any rate, I apologized to my body by getting a pedicure later in the afternoon. Now if only the rest of my house would magically pack itself...

now listening

2007-06-15T16:48:00.000-07:00

Hey there Delilah
What's it like in New York City
I'm a thousand miles away
But girl tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do
Time Square can't shine as bright as you
I swear it's true

Hey there Delilah
Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice it's my disguise
I'm by your side

Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
What you do to me

Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good

Hey there Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all

Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
But we'll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time that we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame

Hey there Delilah
You be good and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school
And I'll be making history like I do
You'll know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here's to you
This one's for you

Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
What you do to me
--The Plain White T's

letters

2007-06-14T19:18:00.000-07:00

To the people who live on our street:

I'm sorry. I am really, truly sorry that my car went haywire at approximately 9:10 last night and would not stop honking for nearly an hour. Believe me, I wanted to be sleeping, too.

To the dealership that worked on my car yesterday:

I'm blaming last night's fiasco on you.

To our front steps:

I really hope today marks the last day I ever faceplant on you, because it was really unpleasant.

To the people of Craigslist Tucson:

Stop being so flaky and buy my shit already.

To the ulnar nerve in my left arm:

Eff you. I need that elbow, dammit.

To the guys at Goodwill:

Thank you for making my donation process effortless and very fast today.

viva las vegas

2007-06-13T13:36:00.000-07:00

Hello. I went to Las Vegas last week and mostly wish I were still there instead of packing and doing dumb moving crap in Tucson. At any rate, I saw slot machines like this:

and also asked Second City to do a sketch about something "you get really excited about, just something you're super passionate about," which was, of course, feminism. Interestingly, the sketch immediately turned into "I am woman, hear me roar" and lessons on how to be a woman. I also yelled "DO YOU GO DOWN?" during the show and Heidi got them to do a sketch about Wisconsin porn ("I would like a sausage now please."), so maybe it evened out. We also drank some stranger's white wine. 'Cause it was free.

On our second morning there, I did something so colossally stupid that I couldn't get my heart to slow down for a full five minutes. I was playing some slot machine and had my tote bag, open (mistake #1), on the seat beside me. Not really a big deal as the casino was slow and as long as I was paying attention to my machine, it was within my view. However, the bag was open (see #1 again) and cash, cards, etc were visible to anyone walking by. And then I allowed myself to be distracted by some kid who was probably only barely 21 (mistake #2), who asked why I was sitting alone and where my husband was, and told me I was too, too pretty to be sitting alone. It was not until he left that I realized this would be the perfect diversionary tactic--my chair was swiveled and eyes were on him the whole 60s or so he was talking to me and my bag, of course, was unattended. Thankfully, nothing was missing when I searched it as soon as he left.

Big wins on a Wheel of Fortune machine at Planet Hollywood (I put in $3, it gave me $225, even though it was clearly offended that I was so intoxicated), a dollar slot at Wynn ($145), and at craps at Circus Circus ($300!!!!!). I am never playing anything but craps ever again.

just like a porn star

2007-06-03T14:16:00.001-07:00

So we had a garage sale this weekend, in an effort to get rid of stuff and make some money. We had some utterly crazy folks over the two days--people who were waiting in their cars in front of our house at 6:30 AM (the sale didn't start til 7:30!), etc. On Friday morning, I left the porch to take a shower while Shannon manned the sale. Apparently, he got a lot of business while I was gone, but none so interesting as the guy I'm about to describe.

You all will recall the Clone A Willy Fiasco of December, in which I was mistakenly shipped a, well, Clone a Willy kit. It took months to resolve and in the end, Amazon and its partner company didn't end up demanding the kit back, so it has happily spent months in Casa 921. The garage sale seemed like a good opportunity to unload it, so I set it up by the electronics and the kitchen stuff.

At any rate, a man at our sale was pretty intrigued by the kit and was asking Shannon questions about it, saying he was going to a bachelor party and wouldn't this be a funny joke, etc. A few minutes later, he asked Shannon if we had any dirty movies for sale. No, no we didn't. Still later, he asked Shannon if by chance we had a cord for a vibrating mattress? He had purchased the mattress at another sale and it didn't come with the power cord. Sadly, Shannon told him, we did not have the cord for the vibrating mattress. The man eventually passed on buying the Clone a Willy kit.

Instead, he bought my old swimsuit.

2007-05-29T23:12:00.000-07:00

I was driving tonight and was suddenly struck by the realization that I could not remember my age. Am I 26? Or 27? I had to consult the calendar year in order to figure it out. I think this means my brain has atrophied significantly since classes ended. I may be a master of arts, but I am apparently not a master of the important demographic details of daily living.

Brundog's Zy-De-Que

2007-05-17T09:16:00.000-07:00

We have been meaning to go to Brundog's for a couple months now. Unfortunately, every other time we remembered that we'd been meaning to go, it was Sunday and the restaurant was closed. Faced with endless options for lunch yesterday, we somehow managed to finally make it over to their only location at 4825 N. First (you have to hang a U-ie at River if you're headed north).

Brundog's is a locally owned family operation with slick menus, a nice interior remniscent of the Mexican restaurant that apparently previously resided there, and for the most part, excellent food. They combine Cajun and barbecue in some very interesting ways.

Aaron and I were the only patrons in the dining room when we walked in a little after 1 PM. If they had a lunch rush, we definitely missed it. If they didn't have a lunch rush, make a trip over there sometime soon and give 'em one. This little gem deserves some more time in Tucson (and there is a $5 coupon on their website). We had the undivided attention of our server, who was friendly and joked around with us and answered our questions about the menu really competently. She also kept the Diet Pepsi and iced tea flowing.

After going round and round on whether to get an appetizer (they were mostly seafood and sausage oriented, which I wasn't feelin'), we finally settled on the Shrimp New Orleans ($10), which promised "spicy shrimp seasoned with four peppers, garlic and fresh rosemary" in a "buttery seafood sauce" and accompanied by buttered, grilled baguette. We were in a time crunch, so we asked our server to please bring the appetizer with the rest of our lunch, which consisted of the Oyster Po'Boy ($9) for Aaron and the Hickory Smoked Pulled Pork sandwich ($6.50) for me. Sandwiches, which are about a quarter of the menu options, come with a choice of Brundog's baked beans, coleslaw, potato salad, or french fries. Aaron opted for fries, which the server described as long, but not crinkle-cut, and double fried for crispiness. I went with the potato salad.

The presentation of the shrimp was really creative. The sauce sat in the bottom of a shallow bowl, surrounded by 4 baguette triangles. There was a wedge of baguette in the middle of the sauce, crowned by a shrimp, and 4 other shrimp in the bowl. Unfortunately, the presentation was the only great thing about the appetizer. There was no spiciness, no garlic, and no fresh rosemary to be found. The sauce was bland and lacked the level of flavor we expected from a cajun joint. Most disappointingly, the 5 shrimp were slightly overcooked and fairly average sized (smaller than even the medium sized shrimp I buy at Trader Joe's). The buttered and grilled baguette was delicious, but couldn't make up for the lack of flavor elsewhere.

Fortunately, our sandwiches were beyond delicious. A huge serving of pulled pork was sandwiched in between some of the freshest, best tasting French bread I've ever eaten. It was lightly dressed with their own sauce, and there was plenty more at the table. My first bite immediately convinced me that I made the right choice, as this is some of the best pulled pork I've ever had. The sauce was incredible, balancing sweet with vinegar and a lot of pepper for extra kick. Even Aaron, who does not share my love of pepper, raved about the sauce. The potato salad was fresh and featured chunks of potato, some finely minced celery and possibly onion and egg white, as well as mustard, mayo and a liberal sprinkling of celery seed.

Aaron's Po'Boy had several large oysters, breaded and fried, atop the same excellent bread with a cajun mayo that he said was a nice touch and well executed. His first bite was slightly fishy and he started to have some buyer's remorse, but the further into the sandwich he got, the more he enjoyed it. The fries were, indeed, quite crisp, just like our server promised. We commented on the bread a million more times on the way home, just to give you an idea of how good it was.

Brundog's has a large menu for a place its size and I am anxious to return to try some of their entrees, which include jambalaya, gumbo, shrimp etouffe and other cajun delicacies. The chef/owner wandered through the dining room as we were eating to check on our meal and blushed a tiny bit when I told him the pork was amazing.

In short: Skip the Shrimp New Orleans. Go for some delicious sandwiches or specialties, and humble, personalized service.

the graduate

2007-05-15T19:50:00.000-07:00

Our house is empty now. The floor where Mel blew up her Aerobed every night is now strikingly bare. LB's door closes and opens in its usual manner now that Kaitlin's air mattress is no longer there, either. There are little, welcome reminders of both of them in the fridge. Skim? Who in this house drinks skim? Or plain soy milk, for that matter? Or eats raw kale? The couch where my aunt and uncle, our moms, and my dad sat is once again strewn with pillows and junk mail and probably some handwritten lists, too. It was, for the most part, a lovely time and one that is unlikely to ever be repeated, which makes me a little sad. Some pictures:

secret dream jobs

2007-05-14T08:02:00.000-07:00

So the job I'm moving on to, in student affairs, has been one of my secret dream jobs since I was in college, though I only admitted it to anyone just last fall. My friend Meredith (who is following a similar career path) and I were talking at a party and I told her about it, but that I wasn't sure I could get hired since I don't have the very specific professional degree that often accompanies this type of job. Luckily, Meredith is persistent and encouraging.

What are yours?

no longer considering the bunny ranch

2007-04-25T19:27:00.000-07:00

32 applications.
27 thank you notes.
18 interviews on campus.
15 conference interviews.
4 phone interviews.
4 plane trips.
3 campus visits.

One job. HOLLA!

tru luv 4-eva

2007-04-21T20:35:00.000-07:00

Lauryn and I were unearthing my personal history with the Internet when we both realized that in our early days, we used Prodigy. This prompted me to remember my very first Internet boyfriend, the one and only Rider Strong. Oh yes, dear readers, Rider and I were tight for several months as we exchanged e-mails and chatted on Prodigy. If only we had kept it up...I could be living in Hollywood with the world's cutest has-been!

some things i learned from recent flights

2007-04-18T13:27:00.000-07:00

1. It is remarkably difficult to hear someone throwing up on an airplane. I know this because my row-mates continued to rest peacefully as I utilized the air sickness bag in my seat pocket.
2. The air sickness bag is a genius invention and is remarkably useful (see #1).
3. Flight attendants are super sweet and attentive once you've told them that you've just been sick in the bathroom.

2 flights. 3 episodes. Oh yeah, baby. Monday was fun.

so.

2007-04-13T09:10:00.000-07:00

I've pretty much sold myself on taking an actual vacation--as opposed to a trip for a conference, a trip for an interview, a trip for a wedding, or a trip to see someone in particular--sometime in the 4-6 weeks after graduation. I've also pretty much sold myself on the idea that this vacation should happen in Vegas. Who's in?

mmm.

2007-04-08T08:46:00.000-07:00

Breakfast is probably my favorite meal of the day, which is sayin' something for someone who has spent most of the last 4 years eating cereal for breakfast. Cereal does not make breakfast awesome. Pancakes, french toast, omelettes, biscuits, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and potatoes do, though. I have been on a pancake kick for the last several months, but I finally got tired of paying for them and started making them at home. This morning, however, I had some leftover whole wheat french bread to use up. French toast!

2 eggs
1/2 c. milk
1-2 tbsp Splenda
1-2 tsp almond extract
Cinnamon to your liking

Whisk that all together in a shallow baking dish or pan until it's well blended. I had 4 pieces of bread that were about an inch thick. It was the perfect amount, though the recipe can be doubled and tripled and whatnot. Add the bread to the mixture and let it soak about 5 minutes on each side. Heat a nonstick pan or griddle on medium, spray it with Pam for good measure, and add the soaked bread. I think it took about 4 minutes on each side. Enjoy!

2007-04-05T10:03:00.000-07:00

The novelty of being back in my usual grad student life after being gone for 5 days has officially worn off. Projects, thesis, teaching, defense, grading, miscellaneous administrativia. May 9 (the approximate date that I estimate everything will be wrapped up) cannot come fast enough.

notes from orlando

2007-03-31T11:58:00.000-07:00

I Pricelined my hotel room for the conference I'm at. It's a pretty standard business class hotel and I got a decent rate. Somehow, I ended up with a room on the executive level of the hotel, which is protected by keycard access, has free breakfast delivered to my door, retails for 3 times what I'm paying for it, and is, all around, sort of lush.

I narrowly avoided killing an alligator who decided that crossing the off ramp at the exact moment I sped down it was a good plan last night. 30 minutes later? Got the keys to my sweet, luxe, low-cost hotel room. Karma or coincidence? Hmm...

bear down, arizona

2007-03-27T14:33:00.000-07:00

I bought my cap, gown, tassel and hood today so that I may participate in the centuries old ritual of being hooded on May 12. That sounds vaguely like something the KKK might do, too. Perhaps academia should rethink that one.

Oh, and I also bought this. It's pretty. Happy early graduation to me.

it is wrote.

2007-03-18T21:48:00.000-07:00

...and I am going to sleep now. Oh, frabjous day!

title?

2007-03-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

Help me name my thesis. It's on feminism, feminist identification, weight loss, and weblogs. Specifically, I interviewed some people who identify as female, feminist and write weight loss blogs about their history with fatness and why they write their blogs.

Give me your double entendres, your cliches, your catchy phrases. "Weighty Issues:..." is out since there are a number of articles and books already titled that. Bring it!!

hire me

2007-03-05T19:03:00.000-07:00

...'cause I carry a bag as big as my torso and have a slick suit to boot.

word.

2007-02-28T14:31:00.000-07:00

A link to a larger image for those who doth protest too much.

we don't need no education

2007-02-20T21:39:00.000-07:00

Me: Well, at least there'll be educators there. That could be interesting.
Matt: No.
Me: Well, okay...
Matt: Talking to educators is a crapshoot. Sometimes they'll be saying something and you have to say "Oh, that's interesting," when you're really thinking, "My God, you're committing crimes against children."