Crises

I am not, myself, going through anything especially difficult right now.

But seemingly everyone else is.

Seriously, every conversation I have lately is about a personal catastrophe. And these are not people whining. These are big things: Surgeries, identity shifts, mystery ailments that require lots of tests, relationship trouble, hard parenting choices, loved ones' imminent deaths.

Not all of you pray, but some of you do. Would the ones who do be willing to lend a prayer, and the ones who don't be willing to lend a kind thought, for family and friends who need it right now?

If you're dealing with your own Big Bad right now, feel free to add it to the comments so we can think of you more specifically. Anonymity is OK by me; what else are the internets for?

Back to your regularly scheduled programming

So that's what me looking for joy for a week looks like. It was fun. I'll do it more often.

But, um.

This weekend, while I was out of town, my neighbors dug up some trees they assumed I would not want where they were.

They then took them away, as they were preparing to haul some brush themselves.

I had vague notions of transplanting said trees elsewhere.

I have never, ever, met these neighbors. Still.

What, if anything, would you do with this situation?

(For context, my history with these same neighbors here and here and here.)

Extracting joy, day 7 (Sunday): Thai(ish) turkey burgers

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Whimsy's explanation

There are to many great things to cover about this day, including that it's the beginning of two days in Gloucester, MA, with a couple of high school pals and their families, that I'm at the ocean for the first time in ages, that there are moon snails to watch and holes to dig and views of Boston and glorious sunsets and kids' eyes to observe things through.

But for simple joys?

The turkey burgers we had for dinner were just amazing, thanks to one of the high school friends and his wife. Ground turkey, fresh ginger, fish sauce, and scallions, all made into patties and grilled, topped with siracha mayonnaise, cilantro (for those of us who don't hate it), crushed peanuts...

Oh. My. God.

I kind of don't want to eat anything else ever again.

Extracting joy, day 6 (Saturday): Private air shows

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Whimsy's explanation

I've recently taken up running. Sometimes I say "again" when I say that, but actually, I've never really been a runner. I take it up every few years and give it up pretty quickly. That I've been doing it a week now is, if not unprecedented, at least unusual. I'm ramping up slowly, with a run-walk program that seems to be about right for my fitness level, and I'm doing it mostly with a friend (sometimes two), which keeps me accountable.

Saturday, though, I was on my own for running. I decided not to do the route I've been doing with my friend, and headed out to the airport, where there's a beautiful flat road that's closed to vehicle traffic during the weekends. It's a small airport, as you might expect, mostly for small planes. There aren't really gates, or the other stuff you expect at a commercial airport. There is, weirdly, an excellent Indian restaurant. And, next weekend, an air show.

As I ran, I was vaguely aware of a plane around, but I wasn't paying attention. Until I heard its engine cut out, and panicked. I scanned the sky and found the plane just as the engine noise restarted — it was a biplane, and it was doing tricks (practicing for next weekend, I assume). And it was AMAZING. Other people probably saw it, too, but I couldn't see them. The plane did swirly loops and twisty barrel rolls and scary freefalls, the whole time I ran and walked. When necessary, I turned around and walked backwards on the walking parts to watch better.

As I got closer to my car, I saw the only other person I saw the whole time. I stopped her on her walk to be sure she saw her own private airshow, too.

Extracting joy, day 5 (Friday): Great shoes

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Whimsy's explanation

Way back last summer, I was working on questions and answers for, I will now admit, an internet dating site.

And one of my dearest friends, who I do not get to see in person very often anymore, but did used to see in person daily, suggested "I have nice legs and am not afraid to wear shoes that show them off" as an answer to one of the questions.

And I sighed heavily, because that used to be true, but when I moved to the country, I got a teensy bit of grief for my shoes and so gave up on cute shoes. But realizing that that was something people used to think about me was enough to inspire me to declare the period from my birthday in August 2009 to the same date 2010 "The Year of Great Shoes."

Now, there are shoe people who have a lot of shoes. I am not, usually, one of them. I generally have a few pairs of shoes I wear in heavy rotation. But this year, I've been committed to making those few pairs great shoes. And people have noticed. And I like that.

So.

Today (Friday), at lunchtime I went into the local consignment store to buy a pair of pants I saw last week and liked.

They didn't have them.

But they did have, in my size and at entirely unbelievable prices:

• Slightly worn Steve Madden wedges

• Brand-new Anne Klein wedges

• Brand-new Frye boots

• And brand-new Joan and David pumps

Three out of four of these shoes were less than $20. One was, in fact, less than $10. The remaining pair was less than half its retail price.

So I bought them all.

Extracting joy, day 4 (Thursday): Stretching comfort zones

(Sorry, gang; have had some internet/computer troubles lately. But I have been working on Days 4, 5, 6, and 7.)
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Whimsy's explanation

I had this one all written before it all disappeared. That's fine; it was probably too long anyway.
In recent months, but especially this week, I've been trying to do things outside my comfort zone. There are many reasons for this, but one of the results I didn't expect (and love) is that there seem to be many fewer things that don't seem like the kind of thing I would do anymore, at least to me. Other people probably still get surprised when I do things they wouldn't expect of me, but I don't, as much. Relatively new to that list are:

• Getting up at 5:30 every morning
• Running
• Internet dating
• Selling jewelry as an advisor for a direct sales company
• Planning a trip to Milwaukee for a conference with the aforementioned direct sales company
• Agreeing with Perez Hilton (seriously. How and when would that happen?)
  
• Reconnecting with old friends, even ones with whom I ended on not-so-great terms
• Going to see Sex and the City 2
• Communicating honestly — including having the uncomfortable conversations when necessary
• Asking for help at work, when necessary
• Not jumping to the first conclusion I think of

And you know what? So far, all of those things have worked out at least OK. Even Sex and the City 2, which I can't honestly recommend — but can recommend the company of the women I spent that evening with, and I can also recommend getting all dressed up to go out with friends on a Friday night sometimes.

Extracting joy, day 3: This second

(Day 1)
(Day 2)
(Whimsy's explanation)

So I had a post half-written in my head about my second job, which I do love, and which does give me joy, and which I will likely post about later in the week.

But right now, I am too absorbed by:

• open windows and
• episode 20, season 3 of Mary Tyler Moore and
• a raging, beautifully cooling thunderstorm and
• my new white cotton nightgown and
• the fading taste of the orange popsicle I ate ten minutes ago and
• this awesome wave of sleepiness that might just overtake me.

Extracting joy, day 2: What's in the garage

(Day 1)
(Whimsy's explanation)

A little pre-today background:

Weeks (months? I don't know.) ago, the two worst nest-builders in the world started attempting to build a nest in my garage, in the rafter right above my car door. I first noticed them one morning when I went out to the garage, and startled two blue jays, who freaked out and flew out of the garage.

When I got home from work that day, I stepped on a pile of twigs and plastic stuff on the floor next to my car.

After a few repeats of this (morning jay freakout, afternoon pile of twigs), it became clear what was going on. I did not imagine they'd successfully build a nest up there, particularly after one day when I startled the male and he crashed into the closed garage door, right next to the open garage door. But succeed they did.

And then the female just started sitting there. All the time. She was no longer freaked out, no longer even really noticed me. Which I assumed meant there were eggs in the (seriously, very poorly constructed) nest.

I finally brought my ladder into the garage from the deck, where it had been sitting all winter. I put it as far from the nest as was possible, considering that the nest is in the dead center of the garage. I climbed it a few times anyway, to look at the female jay. She seemed fine. I'd have been bored. She seemed unbothered by it.

So, today's joy:

There were babies in the nest this morning. Three of them that I could see, silently opening and closing their mouths. Their mother was still there, too, looking proud, though I could just be projecting.

I carried those baby birds in my head and my heart all day today, thinking of them about a thousand times, in meetings, as I went for a walk, as I planned for my evening.

And those weird-looking featherless aliens have completely framed my day. Made me excited. Made me want to get home, just to stare at them.

And when I did, they were still there, still opening and closing mouths, occasionally flailing a naked wing. Their mother was not still there, and who can blame her; she's been sitting there for weeks. She came back.

Seriously, I think she looks proud.

Extracting joy, day 1: A bulleted list (of course)

Have you seen this thing of Whimsy's? It's a neat idea, right? And kind of out of keeping with much of my personality, right? Which is only an advantage to you, readers (if readers still there be).
Because either:

• I will feel compelled to balance, which means a whole lot of posts in this seemingly abandoned place, or
• I won't, but you'll get joyful posts for a week.

And I know that three of you still check here from time to time (I mean you, J and B and K). Thanks. This one's for you. And for Whimsy, because this will not be the one that wins, but it will be my declaration of intent. The winning entry will be later in the week.

Here are the joys I have extracted from this day, none of which I have yet properly taken quite enough time for:

• Memories of a lovely weekend, with amazing people, new and less-new
• My sister's hand-me downs
• The discovery that Magnum condoms are actually regular-sized condoms (what? So I giggled. You did, too.)
• Plans for an exciting new world-changing project
• Praise for the new thing I do at work
• Praise from my mom for another thing I did at work
• New running shoes, daring me to make good on my promises of running (no, seriously. I will. Soon, I'm sure.)
  
• An even-better-than-expected rewatching of Stranger than Fiction, which, really, if you watched it before and liked it pretty well, watch it again with an eye for the details. If you didn't see it, watch it, quick, so you can watch it again.
• Phone conversations with old friends
  
• Beautiful, beautiful weather, just a little hot, in a way that I may get sick of in August, but totally relish in May
• A sugar-free cherry Popsicle, which is delightfully and surprisingly much better than the generic version
• Sleeping with wide-open windows, strategically chosen for maximum cross-breeze

How about you?

Back to basics

Here is what living in the country is like:

It's like when you start telling someone that they have karaoke the first Thursday of the month at the Chinese restaurant at the gas station, and everyone thinks you're talking about the other Chinese restaurant at the gas station.

Win big for big, er. Whatever.

So Condomania has apparently been measuring. Or something.

And you'll be glad to know that my old hometown of D.C. and my current home state of New Hampshire both do just fine. Seems like there would be a lot of jokes I could make, but really, I have already wasted most of the ten minutes I was gong to take for lunch on this. And you, readers, never disappoint me on the jokey joke front.

So have at it. There'll be a prize for the author of the best line in the comments. Contest starts now and ends Friday at noon.

What today is like

I'm so sorry, you people. I have sooooooooo much to tell you, if you're still there. I don't blame you if you aren't.

But for starters, here is my favorite thing that I have had to say today.

"It's, um, complicated for me to hear you suggest that the problem with feminists is that they aren't paying enough attention to men."

Yeah. So I'm about like that. How are you?

Update 6/11/10: Here is that same sentiment, expressed in awesomer fashion.

Words routinely misused by people I know

Now, now. If you see yourself here, don't worry, don't apologize, don't even admit it. Just know.

• It's. This only means "it is." It doesn't ever mean "belonging to it." Many people, including me, slip on this occasionally. One person of my acquaintance misuses it always.
• Lightening. The word you're looking for is "lightning." No "e." "Lightening" is a real word, but that's not what you mean.
• Lead. It's pronounced like "leed" when you're using it as a verb. Its past tense is "led." Go check your résumé right now.
• Jive. Our opinions don't "jive" with each other; they "jibe" with each other.

OK, I'll admit it. There were two words on this list that, when I went to double check, I was wrong-ish about, and therefore had to cut. So now it's a pretty short list. What do you see in your acquaintances? Or in, God forbid, me?

Brrrrr

I'm just sayin'.

Captcha'd

Sorry, gang; I've been getting a ton of comment spam lately, and so have had to add word verification to the comment process.
It's not a great solution; it feels ableist to me (and annoying to frequent reader Lisa), but I couldn't think of another way to allow anonymous comments and instant comments and kill all that spam. If anyone has a better way that works with Blogger, let me know. You know, assuming you can get past the word verification.

Classy

Reasons writing a paper now is so much easier than it was 20 years ago:

1. There's information on the internet.
2. My friends actually know stuff. And people. In some cases, they are actually experts.
3. There are citation generators on the internet. Holy cow.
   
4. My house is quiet and empty, with literally no drunk people in the hallway and no one watching 90210 in my suite.
5. I've been a professional writer for six or seven years.
6. I was a professional writer about the subject of the class at least some of that time.
   
7. I have actually done (most of) the reading for the class.
8. If I get bored or weary, my inclination is to blog or go for a short walk, rather than to go to the end of the New Jersey Transit line without checking to see if there's even a train back or start self-publishing the most amazing, totally definitive 'zine ever and distributing it.
9. The presentation that has to come from this paper will be at least partly copied-and-pasted, and will not involve any last-minute runs to the bookstore for markers and extra posterboard.
10. My computer weighs less than 20 pounds, and is therefore practical to carry around with me. Also, I don't need to keep four different disks with me if I want to write a paper and e-mail it to my professor.
    

Pretty crafty

I think this year is going to be a mostly handmade Christmas for me, gift-wise.
There are lots of good reasons to go handmade. Depending on how you do it, it can be:

• cheaper
• more sustainable
• sweeter
• higher quality
• more heirloomy
• less annoying to shop for
  

I have need for several of those things this year, so I'll be making some gifts, and buying some handmade gifts (and probably at some point breaking down and buying something not handmade, too, but not yet).

In case you, my friends from the internet, have similar needs, I thought I'd share a list of my favorite craftspeople. This starter list consists exclusively of people I know personally, whose wares I have also bought and can therefore vouch for.

• GH Books
• Polka Dot Cottage
• Fiber of Her Being (note: To be fair, I am not totally sure she's taking new orders. But check out her site anyway. See pictures of me!)

Please, if you have favorite craftspeople, or make great handmade stuff yourself, leave us a link in the comments. Seriously. This is no time for modesty. The Holidays are coming.

Thanksgiving Day parade

"Hey, bzzzzgrrrl!" you say. "Happy Thanksgiving! How's it going?"

Well, medium. Eventful.
So far today, I have:

• Done a bunch of laundry.
• Peeled ten pounds of potatoes and wondered if that's too much or too little for 17 people.
• Started to make mashed potatoes.
• Realized I don't own a potato masher, and that when I try to use an electric mixer, it usually results in gluey potatoes.
• Gone to Walmart and had a delightful conversation with Walmart employee Gary, who knows way more about potato mashers than you would think, and helped me choose the right one for my family's lump preferences.
• Observed that Walmart is emptier than I've ever seen it, but the employees are friendlier, and wondered if there's a causal relationship.
• Decided to pop in a movie as I continued Thanksgiving preparation and discovered the latest Netflix selection is a documentary about Hitler's secretary.
• Watched two Charlie Brown Thanksgiving specials.
• Laughed at the pilgrim explorers in Provincetown in one of said specials as they observe: "Six Indians and a dog! Put down your muskets; let's see if they'll talk. Let's walk slowly toward them. Smile; show them we don't want to harm them. Oh, no! They're running away! They must be afraid. Quick, we must chase after them!" Yeah, nothing assuages my fears like guys with muskets chasing after me.
• Finished making mashed potatoes.
• Tasted mashed potatoes. Delicious.
• Observed that I seem to have another effing plumbing problem, if you can believe it.
• Given up on packing, because obviously I am not sleeping anywhere but here, because I have another effing plumbing problem.
• Had a little beef stroganoff for lunch.
• Thought a lot about Thanksgivings past, spent in meetings and at concerts, with family of origin and family of choice, in D.C. and Groton, Massachusetts and Jaffrey, New Hampshire and Lake Placid, New York.
• Missed a bunch of people but felt very blessed*.
  

But thanks for asking. You?


*Aside from the effing plumbing

Food rules: Holiday edition

After my first Food Rules post, it was brought to my attention that I also have some fairly significant traditions around what I eat on holidays.
Mind you, I am not inflexible; if I'm not with my family for a holiday, for example, I can go with the flow and have a burger on the Fourth of July. But we have our traditions, and we adhere to them when we can, some more rigidly than others.
So, then, in case you are by now desperate to know what I eat on the Fourth of July if not a burger:

Thanksgiving:

• Mixed nuts
• Celery sticks with peanut butter and mayonnaise and raisins
• Little glasses of cranberry juice and lemon sherbet
• Turkey
• Mashed potatoes
• Stuffing (in the bird for regular people, and out of the bird for my cousin, who finds the in-bird stuff gross)
• Gravy
• Acorn squash
• Creamed onions
• Salad
• Pecan pie
• Apple pie
• Mince pie
• Pumpkin pie
• Whipped cream for pie
• Cheddar cheese
• Coffee (also with whipped cream, for those who desire it)
• After Eights mints
  

The day after Thanksgiving:

• Pie for breakfast (and, therefore discussion of who will eat which pie, as my sister dislikes apple, and some people think mince isn't for breakfast)
• Soup and/or sandwich for lunch, at the Monadnock Music craft fair

St. Lucy's Day:

• Some kind of baked good, and some kind of hot beverage*

Christmas:

• Goose
• Stuffing
• Brussels sprouts
• Mashed potatoes
• Roast beef (if my uncle is there)
• Yorkshire pudding (if my uncle is there to make it)
• Salad
• Plum pudding, lit (for those who don't mind dessert made of beef fat and dried fruit and liquor)
• Chocolate cake (for those who do)
  

The day after Christmas:

• Leftover goose, in hunks, with fingers**
• Cheddar cheese, ditto**
• Oranges**
  

New Year's Eve:

• Champagne
• Water crackers with cream cheese and caviar

New Year's Day:

• Black-eyed peas***
• Greens***

Palm Sunday:

• Hot cross buns for breakfast (not homemade)

Easter:

• Lamb****

Fourth of July:

• Ice cream (midday, at the ice cream social in town)
• Salmon
• Peas
• Strawberries (generally in shortcake)

October 31:

• Sara Lee black forest cake for dessert*****

So, what about you? Any inviolable holiday traditions? Any of mine you Just. Can't. Believe?!?!?


*Served by me to whoever else is in the house, in bed, wearing some variation of white dress, red sash, wreath of lighted candles on my head.
** These and other snacks historically consumed in the car, on the way to Washington, D.C.
*** I am actually the only member of my family who does this, and I have only been doing it since 1994, when I lived with a bunch of Southerners.
**** Due to the fact that my parents are clergy, and therefore exhausted by Easter, and due to the fact that I didn't eat red meat for 17 years, there have been many Easters when we went out to dinner. Nonetheless, those who could often ate lamb, and when we do cook at home, it's always lamb.
***** This has nothing to do with Halloween. It has to do with October 31 being my baptismal anniversary, and me therefore getting to choose dessert. And Sara Lee hasn't made black forest cake in about 25 years, but when they did, that is what I chose, invariably.

True story

I just went out for Chinese food with a friend. And at the end of the meal, obviously, we got fortune cookies.

Weird thing #1: We got the same fortune.

Weird thing #2: It said this: