I had a pedicure yesterday. It was a fine pedicure, mostly, except that I kind of hate the color I chose. So, now what?
None of the options seems like something I would do, but I have to do one of 'em. Majority rules. If you have other suggestions, I will entertain them in the comments.
UPDATE 8/4/10: Someone got in just under the wire! When I checked yesterday, minutes before the poll closed, it was a three-way tie, so I went to get a polish change and planned an update about how you people were no help at all. Now I see that a late voter broke the tie for me. In the interest of keeping both the majority-rules spirit and the new color on my toenails, I have removed the polish from my fingernails and am letting them go naked.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Um, before I tell everybody what the big surprise is, would you like to tell me what you think the big surprise is?
Remember way back, when I told you the hilarious story of my rock star friend?
Well, she's back. And she is not the rock star of this story (OK, there is no rock star of this story), but it was too hilarious not to share with you, nonetheless. I heard it yesterday, and am still laughing about it 24 hours later.
Well, she's back. And she is not the rock star of this story (OK, there is no rock star of this story), but it was too hilarious not to share with you, nonetheless. I heard it yesterday, and am still laughing about it 24 hours later.
me: tuesdays tend to be big meeting days
just got out of my fourth and last of the day
RS: ugh. that is a lot of meetings. we just had a weird forced surprise birthday celebration for 25 people. it's really ridiculous to try to surprise 25 people at the same time
me: ha!
yes
is that everyone who has a birthday in the summer?
RS: june and july
me: ah
RS: but it was totally silly. because several of us were told we had to some how get our boss, plus 5 colleagues up to a conference room 4 floors up on a floor we never go to
me: heh
how did you do it?
RS: we just told them what was happening and to pretend to be surprised. because we could NOT figure out how to do it and also it was a rescheduled surprise party from last month that they all knew about the first time
me: hee
RS: when we all got upstairs, the "surprisees" were herded into one room (with no explanation) while the surprisers went into another room. and then the surprisees filed in sloooowly about 3 minutes later as we said surprise 25 times.
me: omg
wowsa
RS: yes. it was like an episode of the office.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Train the trainer
I've been working out a little more lately. Yeah, I'm pretty awesome.
I started running about 6 weeks ago, and recently decided I needed to add some strength training to that. I am very gym-phobic, which is bad for someone who wants to add strength training. But I work at a college, which is good for the gym-phobic, because personal trainers cost $40 a semester.
My trainer is adorable. She's young and tiny. She dots her i's with circles. She wears sweatpants with things written on the butt. I try to get past these things, really, I do, because I know my dismissiveness is both harmful to the trainer-client relationship, and is also just a sign that the patriarchy is leaving its mark on me.
And yesterday, at our second session, I had gotten over them. We'd had a great workout; she's fun but also on top of things.
And she works in the evenings, which at a college gym in the summer is a boring time. Since she was bored, and since I irrationally love fitness tests, we decided to do a bunch of them yesterday. Including a skin-caliper test, which she was very excited about, because most people don't want to do them.
Afterward, we chatted about my body-fat percentage, and what a healthy percentage would be (25%), and what a really fit percentage would be, if I wanted to be more serious about my running (21-22%).
"But you don't want to go below 20%," she said. And I could hear her gearing up for the anorexia talk, which I was very pleased to hear her do, because I think that's just good responsible training. "Once you get to around 17%," she said, "you stop —"
And then she paused.
"I would normally talk about losing your period when your body fat gets too low," she said. "But at your age, I know, menopause..."
People?
I am 38 years old.
And yes, that makes me twice her age, literally. But come on.
I started running about 6 weeks ago, and recently decided I needed to add some strength training to that. I am very gym-phobic, which is bad for someone who wants to add strength training. But I work at a college, which is good for the gym-phobic, because personal trainers cost $40 a semester.
My trainer is adorable. She's young and tiny. She dots her i's with circles. She wears sweatpants with things written on the butt. I try to get past these things, really, I do, because I know my dismissiveness is both harmful to the trainer-client relationship, and is also just a sign that the patriarchy is leaving its mark on me.
And yesterday, at our second session, I had gotten over them. We'd had a great workout; she's fun but also on top of things.
And she works in the evenings, which at a college gym in the summer is a boring time. Since she was bored, and since I irrationally love fitness tests, we decided to do a bunch of them yesterday. Including a skin-caliper test, which she was very excited about, because most people don't want to do them.
Afterward, we chatted about my body-fat percentage, and what a healthy percentage would be (25%), and what a really fit percentage would be, if I wanted to be more serious about my running (21-22%).
"But you don't want to go below 20%," she said. And I could hear her gearing up for the anorexia talk, which I was very pleased to hear her do, because I think that's just good responsible training. "Once you get to around 17%," she said, "you stop —"
And then she paused.
"I would normally talk about losing your period when your body fat gets too low," she said. "But at your age, I know, menopause..."
People?
I am 38 years old.
And yes, that makes me twice her age, literally. But come on.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The first MOREning,* in longhand notes, text messages, and random recollections
Yeah, I know it's Wednesday and the conference is over. I'll be on my way home before you know it. But I finally have a minute while my roommate gets dressed before we go out to the post office (and to stock up on cheese and beer) to type up my impressions of Monday morning.
Written in my notebook at the time:
*That's a little joke. MORE is the theme of conference, as in, "Motivation, Opportunity, Recognition, and Education." See how cute?
Written in my notebook at the time:
Maybe a lot of conferences are like this.At some point, I put down the notebook and started texting a friend.
If so, I don't go to them.
It is 8:25 in the morning and the environment is basically indistinguishable from a rock concert. People are excited, hollering at each other fromacross the stadium — did I say stadium? Yes, I did. We're in the US Cellular Arena.Music is blaring, wchich obviously means people are dancing.Chairs are filling in with 5,000 lia sophia advisors and managers (and a handful of guests). It is a frickin' party up in here.
Of course, it's not exactly like a rock concert.
Departures from the theme:
- Virtually the whole crowd is women, all ages, 18 to very old.
- If an outsider observed the scene, she or she might reasonably assume we are seated by outfit. We are actually sitting pretty much by management unit, and some units are very excited to dress alike, in rhinestoned jean jackets or t-shirts that say "Bling It On" or flashing pink glasses.
Me, 8:48: My new goal in life is to get you selling lia sophia so you can come to this conference. I don't know how to explain, but these are our people.A couple random things I meant to include that somehow made it into none of the above:
She, 8:51: I was JUST thinking about what it's like and envisioning you there.
Me, 8:54: It's 845 here and it is a f*cking rock concert. Loud music, dancing, screaming. We are waiting for the recognition part to begin.
Me, 8:55: And a lot of matching t-shirts. Working on the blog post already.
She, 8:55: Cheer camp flashback
Me, 8:56: If your cheer camp had 5000 people at it.
Me, 9:04: I will stop texting in a sec, but it has turned into a literal rock concert now. With a band.
Me, 11:06: The queen of advisor sales just got a cape, sash, and tiara. That should be you.
- We also had, both mornings, "butterfly stories." These are women who come up and explain how lia sophia has entirely turned their lives around. As far as I can tell, they're supposed to make you cry. I did at the second, not at the first.
- The band in question was Maske electric string trio. They were terrific. There were pyrotechnics. Ooooooh, work conference.
- When my manager was named #2 in the country for recruiting (woo-hoo!), she did a cartwheel on stage. People thought that was awesome, but not weird. And that is a difference between this conference and most of the ones I go to.
*That's a little joke. MORE is the theme of conference, as in, "Motivation, Opportunity, Recognition, and Education." See how cute?
Monday, June 28, 2010
Just checking in
This day has been pretty much indescribable. Nonetheless, I do have a lengthy description written of at least our morning session. But I am tired and wounded (explanation also to come, if I'm not too embarrassed for it). So instead, you get this brief thought:
I would not have thought that all those lesbian dances would leave me so well-prepared for a lia sophia conference. But as it happens, I was the life of tonight's particular essentially all-women dance party, probably because I have been to a few and am unafraid to be one of the first on the floor.
I would not have thought that all those lesbian dances would leave me so well-prepared for a lia sophia conference. But as it happens, I was the life of tonight's particular essentially all-women dance party, probably because I have been to a few and am unafraid to be one of the first on the floor.
Side note:
I do not believe I have mentioned here before one of my favorite hobbies. I love, love, love to be in the background of other people's photos. I have this secret hope that people will recognize me in the background of their friends' pictures.
I am never obtrusive, never ruin a picture. But if someone is taking a picture in a crowded public place, where there will already be people in the background, I will do my damnedest to be one of them.
One year, I went to Disney World and the Olympics, while living in the D.C. area. I was in heaven.
This conference should provide me some better than average opportunities.
Oh, like you don't have any little games you play through your life. I saw you, not stepping on the cracks. Tell us about it in the comments.
I am never obtrusive, never ruin a picture. But if someone is taking a picture in a crowded public place, where there will already be people in the background, I will do my damnedest to be one of them.
One year, I went to Disney World and the Olympics, while living in the D.C. area. I was in heaven.
This conference should provide me some better than average opportunities.
Oh, like you don't have any little games you play through your life. I saw you, not stepping on the cracks. Tell us about it in the comments.
My new secret club
(I actually wrote this yesterday midday, but I'm trying to spread out the posting.)
I left home at 4:50 a.m.-ish, which was later than I'd hoped, but still, as it turned out, enough time for me to speed the Oldsmobile to the Manchester, NH, airport. And immediately, I started spotting women wearing the same jewelry I was wearing, the same jewelry I had in my bag, and the jewelry I had been dying to see in person but didn't own yet. Some of them were louder than others, making a big thing of it. I preferred the women like me, who smiled shyly in acknowledgment, but spoke only if we happened to be right next to each other in line. Manchester is not a large airport. It is, in fact, tiny, which is most of why it's desirable to me. And still, there were easily a dozen of us, heading from that airport to the lia sophia conference in Milwaukee.
I didn't sit with the other lia women on the plane.
And then, we got to Baltimore.
I am writing this on the plane from Baltimore to Milwaukee, and probably a quarter of my fellow passengers are fellow lia sophia advisors. That means there's more acknowledgment. At BWI, One woman rounded up as many of us as she could spot in lia sophia jewelry for a picture. I will be on some stranger's Facebook page tomorrow.
Seriously, it is like belonging to a gang with a secret sign. The closest I have ever come to vaguely bonding with so many strangers was when I was in Rotary (there's a story I should tell) and wore my lapel pin around. That would get me, usually, about one nod a day out of the thousands of strangers I'd walk past. I still have a Rotary credit card, and that sometimes gets me a "Really? You too?" from dinner companions I don't know well. But this? This quarter-planeful of new pals? This is brand new, and I'm barely out of Baltimore.
I left home at 4:50 a.m.-ish, which was later than I'd hoped, but still, as it turned out, enough time for me to speed the Oldsmobile to the Manchester, NH, airport. And immediately, I started spotting women wearing the same jewelry I was wearing, the same jewelry I had in my bag, and the jewelry I had been dying to see in person but didn't own yet. Some of them were louder than others, making a big thing of it. I preferred the women like me, who smiled shyly in acknowledgment, but spoke only if we happened to be right next to each other in line. Manchester is not a large airport. It is, in fact, tiny, which is most of why it's desirable to me. And still, there were easily a dozen of us, heading from that airport to the lia sophia conference in Milwaukee.
I didn't sit with the other lia women on the plane.
And then, we got to Baltimore.
I am writing this on the plane from Baltimore to Milwaukee, and probably a quarter of my fellow passengers are fellow lia sophia advisors. That means there's more acknowledgment. At BWI, One woman rounded up as many of us as she could spot in lia sophia jewelry for a picture. I will be on some stranger's Facebook page tomorrow.
Seriously, it is like belonging to a gang with a secret sign. The closest I have ever come to vaguely bonding with so many strangers was when I was in Rotary (there's a story I should tell) and wore my lapel pin around. That would get me, usually, about one nod a day out of the thousands of strangers I'd walk past. I still have a Rotary credit card, and that sometimes gets me a "Really? You too?" from dinner companions I don't know well. But this? This quarter-planeful of new pals? This is brand new, and I'm barely out of Baltimore.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
In which they finally get me
I realize I've been hinting about the awesomeness of my part-time job for a while now. The thing is this: I don't know how to write it so it's not just gushy, or self-promotional.
But I'll share the basics:
I wanted more money, so I started selling lia sophia jewelry. If you don't already know lia sophia, it's a direct sales company. So I'm doing what you may know better as Tupperware parties, but I sell jewelry.
The child who is now my very excellent manager (side note: I have often had two jobs at a time, but I have NEVER had two good bosses at a time. This is like a little miracle) tried to recruit me for a while before I caved. Selling jewelry just didn't seem like a thing my cynical dyke patriarchy-fighting sometimes-Commmunist self would do, you know? But, um. Neither did working for a business newspaper. Neither did taking the plunge into marketing. I got into the business newspaper because I liked the people, and grew to really believe in the company. I got into the marketing because I believed in the organization, and grew to really like the people. I started lia sophia liking the people and the product, both, a lot.
So. Now, I go to parties, I meet new interesting people, I put my own cynical dyke patriarchy-fighting sometimes-Communist spin on things, as appropriate. I make a lot of jokes and am very honest about when the jewelry doesn't look as good as it does in the catalog. and the results are these:
Yeah, see how that was all gushy and self-promoting? Sorry. I won't do a lot more of that. But it felt like necessary backstory to my next several posts, which will feel more like I wrote them. I am on my way to a conference of lia sophia advisors in Milwaukee. And holy cow, it is nuts already and I've barely left Baltimore.
Obviously, if you would like to buy jewelry, or host a really fun party with me to get a ton of free jewelry, or ask questions about selling jewelry, let me know in the comments. I can hook you up.
But I'll share the basics:
I wanted more money, so I started selling lia sophia jewelry. If you don't already know lia sophia, it's a direct sales company. So I'm doing what you may know better as Tupperware parties, but I sell jewelry.
The child who is now my very excellent manager (side note: I have often had two jobs at a time, but I have NEVER had two good bosses at a time. This is like a little miracle) tried to recruit me for a while before I caved. Selling jewelry just didn't seem like a thing my cynical dyke patriarchy-fighting sometimes-Commmunist self would do, you know? But, um. Neither did working for a business newspaper. Neither did taking the plunge into marketing. I got into the business newspaper because I liked the people, and grew to really believe in the company. I got into the marketing because I believed in the organization, and grew to really like the people. I started lia sophia liking the people and the product, both, a lot.
So. Now, I go to parties, I meet new interesting people, I put my own cynical dyke patriarchy-fighting sometimes-Communist spin on things, as appropriate. I make a lot of jokes and am very honest about when the jewelry doesn't look as good as it does in the catalog. and the results are these:
- I'm making money
- I'm having a ball
- I'm thinking about marketing in new ways, so it's helping my day job
- I, who do not at all believe in the myth of the meritocracy, am finding for the first time in my life that working hard actually does get me further than not working hard
- I am shocked to find that I want to have much more time to work harder at it. See 1, 2, and 4.
Yeah, see how that was all gushy and self-promoting? Sorry. I won't do a lot more of that. But it felt like necessary backstory to my next several posts, which will feel more like I wrote them. I am on my way to a conference of lia sophia advisors in Milwaukee. And holy cow, it is nuts already and I've barely left Baltimore.
Obviously, if you would like to buy jewelry, or host a really fun party with me to get a ton of free jewelry, or ask questions about selling jewelry, let me know in the comments. I can hook you up.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Remind me why
A good friend of mine is going through a hard time right now.
OK, a couple of them are, but this is only about the one.
And she sent me an e-mail today, with subject line: "Remind me why I should have self esteem?"
And I sent back a very honest, very sincere, but pretty long list of all of what's so great about her. Because, seriously, she's amazing. Like, just incredible, in so many ways.
I felt it would be inappropriate to make her crisis of self-doubt about me (or anyone else) in our e-mail exchange, but, well, this is my blog. It's already about me, and all of you.
I am not in crisis, I just like to say and be told nice things.
So, two assignments for the comments:
OK, a couple of them are, but this is only about the one.
And she sent me an e-mail today, with subject line: "Remind me why I should have self esteem?"
And I sent back a very honest, very sincere, but pretty long list of all of what's so great about her. Because, seriously, she's amazing. Like, just incredible, in so many ways.
I felt it would be inappropriate to make her crisis of self-doubt about me (or anyone else) in our e-mail exchange, but, well, this is my blog. It's already about me, and all of you.
I am not in crisis, I just like to say and be told nice things.
So, two assignments for the comments:
- Remind me why I should have self-esteem. As always, comment anonymously if you must to prevent your spouses from knowing you're secretly in love with me.
- Post the same question to your own electronic corner of the world (blog, Facebook, whatever) and give the link, so we (I) can go respond. If you're worried it looks like you're fishing for compliments, tell them bzzzzgrrrl made you do it.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
When lady tennis-player jokes were still lady-German-swimmer jokes
I've been watching a lot of Mary Tyler Moore on DVD lately. It's a great show, and it holds up really amazingly well.
The one thing that often strikes me is the dated pop culture references. There's at least one reference per episode I have to look up. Recent examples include (how many do you know?):
The one thing that often strikes me is the dated pop culture references. There's at least one reference per episode I have to look up. Recent examples include (how many do you know?):
- Eric Sevaride
- Chad Everett
- Dave Garroway
- Euell Gibbons
- Kathryn Kuhlman
- Veal Prince Orloff
- Baked Pears Alicia (and this one's not fair, because it appears to have been made up. I don't have time to look up imaginary food. Well, OK, yes, I do. But I can at least save you the trouble.)
Lou: What would happen if Billie Jean King married Bobby Riggs?
Mary: What?
Lou: Her husband would be very upset.
(Big laugh from Lou, little chuckle from Mary)
Lou: See? That was a joke that we could both enjoy. It had women's lib in it for you and sports in it for me.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
What friendship looks like
Last weekend, friend and frequent* commenter Kay Bailey and I went to get manicures and pedicures. We don't see each other a lot, because I live 500 miles away, but we make up for it when we do see each other. I have been dieting and exercising (and losing weight) for a couple of months now, and therefore have gotten some nice compliments, which some would suggest I should be writing down as motivation when I want to throw in the towel. I am bad at that kind of journalling, but this is one I wanted to save for the ages.
As I was drying my nails, she poked at my upper arm and said, "Muscle tone!" And then she looked at me and said, "And hey, where's the rest of your arm?"
*OK, I just realized I had to go back to September to find a comment from her. But I can't really blame her; I did sort of fall off the blogging planet for a while there.
As I was drying my nails, she poked at my upper arm and said, "Muscle tone!" And then she looked at me and said, "And hey, where's the rest of your arm?"
*OK, I just realized I had to go back to September to find a comment from her. But I can't really blame her; I did sort of fall off the blogging planet for a while there.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Country Mouse hits the city
I was back in D.C. this weekend. I had a blast. Such a blast that I should probably break the blastiness up into several posts, but will probably try to figure out how to cram it all in here.
Starting with this: I have been out of the D.C. area for two and a half years now, and people still ask me what I miss. At first, I didn't have great answers for that. I missed individual people: my friends, my colleagues, the D.C. branches of the family, friends' kids that I don't get to watch grow up. But there wasn't a lot else that I could think of (or admit).
This trip, I've been a little more reflective, and have come up with a few more things to miss about this particular big city:
*It's a neighborhood bar. That's mixed (mostly GLB with a healthy dose of T and Q with some S). With karaoke. Plus, as my new friend (as of Friday night) pointed out, it's very clean. Someone really dusts in there. Highlights from this trip: The elderly gay man dancing his heart out to some lesbian singing "Don't Stop Believin';" a little internal fantasy of setting up a Craigslist Missed Connection romance between the two cutest women in the bar, one of whom was wearing a Red Sox cap and the other of whom was wearing a Yankees cap.
**Access to public transportation and taxis rules.
***So, so good. The keys are good meat and also having blue cheese crumbles but not blue cheese dressing. I should be able to do it at home. But I don't do it as well as Rhodeside does.
****Totally broke the old patterns this time: Black sparkly toenails! I am more attached to them than I would have expected.
*****I don't know why there are no cobblers in rural New England. Doesn't the very word, "cobbler," sound like the purview of small-town New England? The only one in town is known for taking literally months or years to do very simple repairs.
Starting with this: I have been out of the D.C. area for two and a half years now, and people still ask me what I miss. At first, I didn't have great answers for that. I missed individual people: my friends, my colleagues, the D.C. branches of the family, friends' kids that I don't get to watch grow up. But there wasn't a lot else that I could think of (or admit).
This trip, I've been a little more reflective, and have come up with a few more things to miss about this particular big city:
- Freddie's.*
- Women's soccer.
- Not having to drive.**
- Steak salads at Rhodeside Grill.***
- Decent manicures and pedicures****
- Shoe repair places*****
- Mexican food
*It's a neighborhood bar. That's mixed (mostly GLB with a healthy dose of T and Q with some S). With karaoke. Plus, as my new friend (as of Friday night) pointed out, it's very clean. Someone really dusts in there. Highlights from this trip: The elderly gay man dancing his heart out to some lesbian singing "Don't Stop Believin';" a little internal fantasy of setting up a Craigslist Missed Connection romance between the two cutest women in the bar, one of whom was wearing a Red Sox cap and the other of whom was wearing a Yankees cap.
**Access to public transportation and taxis rules.
***So, so good. The keys are good meat and also having blue cheese crumbles but not blue cheese dressing. I should be able to do it at home. But I don't do it as well as Rhodeside does.
****Totally broke the old patterns this time: Black sparkly toenails! I am more attached to them than I would have expected.
*****I don't know why there are no cobblers in rural New England. Doesn't the very word, "cobbler," sound like the purview of small-town New England? The only one in town is known for taking literally months or years to do very simple repairs.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Confidence Rorschach test
So, over the last few years of singledom, I have put profiles up on a couple of dating sites. I'm not really using them lately, not really even checking them lately. But yesterday, I got this e-mail from one of them:
So, if I'm reading this right, as of yesterday, based on my picture, I am just slightly more intriguing to other users than average.
Depending on the day, that could be really good news. Or, actually, not so much.
From: [Dating site] Summer Interns
Subject: [bzzzzgrrrl], we have data on your attractiveness
[image of me] = good-looking
[bzzzzgrrrl]:
We are very pleased to report that you are in the top half of [dating site]'s most attractive users. The scales recently tipped in your favor, and we thought you'd like to know.
How can we say this with confidence? We've tracked click-thrus on your photo and analyzed other people's reactions to you.
Your new elite status comes with one important privilege:
You will now see more attractive people in your match results.
This new status won't affect your actual match percentages, which are still based purely on your answers and desired match's answers. But the people we recommend will be more attractive. Also! You'll be shown to more attractive people in their match results.
Suddenly, the world is your oyster. Login now and reap the rewards. And, no, we didn't just send this email to everyone on [dating site]. Go ask an ugly friend and see.
So, if I'm reading this right, as of yesterday, based on my picture, I am just slightly more intriguing to other users than average.
Depending on the day, that could be really good news. Or, actually, not so much.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Question of the day
If you're single, what are your dealbreakers?
If you're not, you have a choice.
If you're not, you have a choice.
- What were your dealbreakers when you were single?
- Understanding that you are perfectly happy with your spouse/partner/significant other now, is there anything he or she does that would be a dealbreaker if you started dating someone now?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
So, if I'm going to be blogging again, it seems like I should also update the ol' blogrolls.
And so I have.
If you read City Mouse Country at City Mouse Country, you've got these at your disposal already. But enough of you (especially you who've stuck around) read through readers that I thought I should post the list, too. If you have a blog you wish I'd add to the list, let me know in the comments.
Blogs I like, by people I know:
And so I have.
If you read City Mouse Country at City Mouse Country, you've got these at your disposal already. But enough of you (especially you who've stuck around) read through readers that I thought I should post the list, too. If you have a blog you wish I'd add to the list, let me know in the comments.
Blogs I like, by people I know:
- Blog-O-Daria
- But I Digress...
- From Where I Sit
- Genny's Journal
- Go Baby Cafe Conversations
- Happy Living
- Hoefering
- Hopeful Pessimism
- I Peed on My Kid
- Locked out of the Teacher's Lounge
- MaternityLand
- Polka Dot Cottage
- Tran|Script
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?
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?
Monday, May 31, 2010
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.)
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.
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.
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:
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.
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.
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