The Time for Change

The Last Time

2012-01-28T14:36:00.000-06:00

I rode in the passenger seat of the car today, all the way to the library and back. The last time I sat in the front seat of a car was December 4.

He has been home for the last three days, unable to do more than croak out words due to some nasty sickness that has invaded his body. The last time he called in sick was...never, that I can recall.

I had a dream that I was striding down the aisles of Target, bitching because I couldn't find what I was looking for. The last time I was at Target was before Thanksgiving.

The doctor suggested I started putting more weight on my leg as he handed me some crutches. The last time I used a walker instead of the crutches was over a week ago.

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It's so easy to mark time this way right now. The last time I did this. The last time I did that.

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Some guy came in to do some work on our apartment. He needed to be in the bedroom and office. Our cat is not allowed in those rooms (something to do with her compulsively chewing electrical cords), so I scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. Sure, carrying her while maintaining my balance on the crutches was challenging, but I did it. This is the first time I'd picked her up and carried her against her will in months.

The boy has not been feeling well. He was down for the count one night and I went into the kitchen and somehow managed to put together a meal of sorts. I have made some very simple meals for breakfast and lunch by myself, but this was the first time I had any impact on the evening meal in months.

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I think it's all in how you phrase it. I'm going to start thinking in first times instead of last times.

You Seldom See Slattern Used in Contemporary Fiction

2012-01-20T21:04:00.001-06:00

Things my husband knows now that he didn't know before I broke my ankle: which clothes get dried and which ones get hung up to dry, what kind of tampons I use, how utterly screwed up the shelving system is at our local library, how frequently I get a mocha with a shot of caramel flavoring from our local coffee shop, how annoying it is when the kitty climbs into the litter box when you are in the midst of cleaning it, and how it feels to be kicked by a super heavy boot in the middle of the night.

Things I know now that I didn't know before I broke my ankle: while I am not one of those annoying, must be doing something at all times people, I find forced idleness to be stifling and oppressive; my pain tolerance is quite high; I can not walk by a piece of cardboard torn off of a box we have given the kitten to play with lying (I just spent five minutes wading through grammar sites trying to determine if it should be lying or laying - please correct me if I'm wrong) on the carpet without freaking out and desperately wishing I could run the vacuum; I drink approximately two and a half pitchers of water each day; the kitty really likes the black fleece blanket.

Things that have been super useful to have around: Netflix on demand, electronic library book loans, and a laser pointer to keep the kitten occupied when I couldn't play chase the ball with her. So I'm cheating a bit with the e-books from the library because (shhhhhh) I still have my library card from a place we no longer live that allows me access to way more e-books than our small local library. So I'm able to request up to 3 ebooks from our local library and 15 from the library where I no longer live. Perhaps it's not ethical, but I'm desperate for something to do here these days!

Things I really wish I could do RIGHT NOW: the chores the boy hates to do like vacuum, change the cat litter, and clean the bathroom; shower without assistance (I still need help drying off/getting clothes on damn it all); cook dinner; drive myself to places, especially the library; spend more than five minutes with my leg not propped up without feeling pain.

Things that have been said in the last two days: Kobe Bryant loses all three of his mansions in the divorce...I just don't feel bad for him; Wow! You seldom see slattern used in contemporary fiction; Uh, weren't we supposed to get up at 6? (as the clock read 6:29); She looks like the kitten in that "hang in there" poster when she hangs on the chair like that; Do you think Newt Gingrich is attractive enough to warrant all this fuss over his sex life?.

Healing - Not a Linear Process

2012-01-10T22:26:00.000-06:00

My foot is in a boot that I can take off to shower and do what the doctor referred to as mobility exercises. I can't bear weight yet, but I can move and flex my foot in certain ways.

Last night, I cried the whole time we did them. Today I was gleeful at the stretch and told my poor husband how much it felt like a foot massage.

Two days ago, the walk down the hall was insurmountable and I had to stop and return before I completed an entire circuit. Today, I walked up and down the hall twice and chased the cat into the bathroom when a maintenance man came to fix something in our apartment.

Three days ago, I took no pain medication. Today I took Tylenol when I woke up and just a few minutes ago.

Sometimes the bottom of my foot tingles. Sometimes my toes won't move. Sometimes the muscles and tendons in my ankle feel like they are going to spring open if I so much as move my foot. Sometimes it throbs. Sometimes I feel like there's nothing wrong with it. Sometimes I feel like I'm making a big fuss over nothing at all.

It's not predictable and it's not easy, but I feel stronger and more like a normal human being every day! Ten more days until I go back for a follow up. There's a chance I'll have to wait another four weeks before putting any weight on my foot, but I'm going to be optimistic and hope for the best when those xrays come back.

Someday soon I will be able to replicate this picture!!

Facebook Conundrums

2012-01-09T07:30:00.000-06:00

1) What do you do with Facebook requests from people you don't know, don't like, or only know through Facebook conversations you've had with someone on an actual friend's wall?

2) An acquaintance I know from a lifetime ago who I like, but I'm not really close to, recently sent me and a dozen other people a private message with information that she wanted us to know, but wasn't really comfortable making a public announcement on Facebook. It's not really a secret, but it's just something she wanted us to know. It's also something that was glaringly obvious from her posts and pictures. So now I'm stuck. Do I respond to this message? If I do, what do I say? Thanks but I already knew that? Oh, thanks for clarifying, I'll be sure not to be a dumbass about this topic from now on? Or do I just continue our Facebook relationship as it is?

3) I have a few friends who have really smart discussions about politics and religion on their walls. I also have some friends who are offensive and, in a few cases, present misleading and incorrect information. Here are my options as I see it.

A) Correct them or call them out on their jackassery. I have done this a couple of times - once I was cowed into silence by an armada of racist comments in support of Obama bashing and once I turned into a superior, overeducated jackass myself by going through an argument pointing out all the mistakes in logic and fact. So I either become shocked by vitriol directed at me or I become an asshole myself.

B) Remember the old "if you don't any anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" adage that my mama taught me and say nothing and ignore it. But this seems like tacit agreement to all they have to say and that goes against my stubborn nature.

C) Just hide the most obnoxious of the offenders from my view. Again, though, this seems like tacit agreement.

D) Private message them that I have a problem with X, Y, or Z. I have done this a few times. Once the person thought I was joking. Once the person told me I was being too sensitive (apparently homophobia is okay if there's a Bible quote to defend it). Once the person told me that my own life experiences meant I couldn't take a joke (apparently it's okay to joke about domestic violence). When it's private, it seems like it's easier to blow off my concerns.

E) Just delete my account and be happier with the whole world. Digging my head in the sand would be delightful sometimes. But I have to admit, I really like knowing what the girl I used to have sleepovers with in sixth grade is doing right now. I like remembering braiding her hair when I see a picture of her with her goofy looking husband and her little girl as she braids her little girl's hair. I like messaging my uncle when I'm going to be in the area to see if he can have lunch with me. I like talking trash about football/crap my husband watches on television/who has the cutest nephew with my friends and family.

Any advice for me on this? Any Facebook problems of your own?

Between the Lines of those Marriage Vows

2012-01-05T07:30:00.000-06:00

He's not perfect. He hasn't showered in two days. The bathroom hasn't been cleaned since I injured myself in the beginning of December. The vacuum has been run once. When I finally got up the strength to wander around the apartment with my walker, I was shocked at the amount of stuff he had strewn everywhere. Sometimes he gets impatient with the kitten when she does kitten-like things like play with boxes and try to jump in the refrigerator. He roots for the Chicago Bears. He reads Charles Dickens for pleasure (Dickens should only be read as punishment - am I right?). He doesn't like to listen to audiobooks in the car.

But he refills my water glass (with three cubes of ice and water) a dozen times a day. He feeds me and the cat with nary a word of complaint whenever we ask for food. He has created an Excel spreadsheet to help him keep track of my medications and pain level. He watches endless episodes of MythBusters and Dirty Jobs with me, never suggesting an alternative pastime. He cleans the litterbox nightly, albeit whining the whole time, without me nagging or reminding him. He does all the grocery shopping by himself. He takes me to the library once a week. He takes two trips down to the car whenever we have to go anywhere, first moving the car closer and then bringing me down with my pillows. He helps me shower, dress, and bathe. He is never impatient with me when I am slow or request a break.

All the while he is doing these caretaking activities, he is also working. He is writing syllabi, lectures, and papers. He is doing research and reading arcane political theory texts of boringness. He is job hunting for something with a little more stability and spends hours every week looking at job openings and sending out materials. He is worrying about his mother's chemotherapy appointments, his sister's weekly pregnancy checkups, and our niece's next trip to the cerebral palsy specialist. He is, in short, still living his life.

I recognize his shortcomings, oh yes I do. But to me, he is going above and beyond the call of husbandly duty.

2011 Year in Review

2012-01-01T15:53:00.000-06:00

I've done this before here and here and here, so here's some more. I am pretty sure no one reads these whole things, but I will keep insisting on traditions.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before? Got a kitten, moved with the kitten, and commuted for two hours for a fairly worthless job.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't know if I lost those pesky ten pounds, but I have been more mindful of what food and drink go in my mouth this year.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? My SIL gave birth to Baby Jack in January. Someday we will stop calling him Baby Jack, but that's the moniker he's stuck with right now.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No. Sheesh. Thankfully.

5. What countries did you visit? Canada. Does that even really count?

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011? Stability in my life.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? The day I broke my leg. It's going to be an ongoing saga, I'm sure.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? I didn't murderize any of my family this year.

9. What was your biggest failure? I considered murderizing members of my family this year.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I broke my stupid leg. I'm still not weight bearing on it and I'm exceptionally frustrated with the entire thing. Pretty sure I'm going to be talking about this for a long time.

11. What was the best thing you bought? It's a toss up between our new couch or the new entertainment center. Furniture that didn't come from someone else's basement is pretty awesome!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Zelda the outrageously cute kitten.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Zelda the outrageously naughty kitten.

14. Where did most of your money go? Rent, food, and moving expenses. Seriously, I type that same thing every year and probably will for the foreseeable future.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Getting our kitty. The Lions making the playoffs. Dr. BB getting a job.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011? "Take a Back Road" by Rodney Atkins, "Remind Me" by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood, and endless repetitions of "Baa Baa Black Sheep" with the nieces and nephews (not to mention "Biplane Evermore" which I would sing to them and they would love and my husband and my inlaws thought I had completely made up by myself)

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

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Successful job searching.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Endless fruitless job applications.

20. How did you spend Christmas? TOP SECRET: We went to Iowa to be with my inlaws. I was pretty sure, even on the 23rd, that I wouldn't be able to handle a four hour car ride with my bum leg, but Dr. BB really wanted to go and EVERY MEMBER of his family had called us in the three days beforehand to "encourage" us to go, so we went. Fine. We went. I don't want to talk about it anymore.

21. Did you fall in love in 2011? Oh, that Zelda kitty has really wormed her way into my heart.

22. What was your favorite TV program? Since my surgery, all I do is watch Dirty Jobs, Mythbusters, Cash in the Attic, and Clean House on Netflix on Demand. Don't judge me for my reality shows.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Can you answer this questions without sounding like a jerk?

24. What was the best book you read? Just Listen by Sarah Dessen, Where She Went by Gayle Forman, The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King (what? you wanted me to pick just one?)

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? I rediscovered Garth Brooks and his Sevens album. I really love Jaron and the Long Road to Love even though their band name is ridiculous and way too long.

26. What did you want and get? I got a sewing machine for Christmas! I am pretty excited to start some projects.

27. What did you want and not get? Stability. I am a sucker for wanting to know what's going to happen to me in the next year.

28. What was your favorite film of this year? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 (okay, fine, I think it's true that it's possibly the ONLY movie I watched in the theater this year)

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I was in Michigan with my sister and mother. I was 32.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? A job where I felt useful and needed.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011? Scarves.

32. What kept you sane? Country music, Sunday Night Football, and public libraries

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? THE LIONS MADE THE PLAYOFFS. 'Nuff said.

34. What political issue stirred you the most? I can't listen to the news anymore. War, unemployment, and misery fill the headlines and it is this year that I have finally come to realize why most Americans are ignorant of the most basic facts of their country's political system. Honestly, the most hot button topic in our household is a discussion over why Jim Schwartz has left the Lions roster become a poster for hooligans and asshats.

35. Who did you miss? I missed my friends who I didn't get to see at all this year. I missed my dad, especially that Monday night when the Lions beat the Bears (what? I totally would have called him to rub it in). I missed my family who I just don't see enough.

36. Who was the best new person you met? Baby Jack, of course.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011. Don't fall on black ice. You can really do some serious damage to yourself.

I Can't Believe I Forget These Books on my Last List

2011-12-30T07:00:00.000-06:00

I know I just did a post on books (sorry, non-book readers!), but I totally forgot some books on that list and it's bothering me, so I'm adding to the list here.

The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex - I don't usually read middle readers because I think I skipped that step in my reading life. I feel like I went from picture books straight to Harlequin romances, so these early chapter books are sometimes difficult for me to comprehend. But this book was awesome. I enjoyed every page. The main character was charming, if a bit dense at times, and I liked the theme of girl power going on in in this book. If you have kids who have read The Rats of NIMH and want something else, I think this would do okay. (Okay, I feel like that's saying that Harry Potter folks should read Percy Jackson. It won't be as good, but it will satisfy some small part of the hole in your heart once you're done with the best.)

The Wicked Years series by Gregory Maguire including Wicked, Son of a Witch, A Lion Among Men, and Out of Oz - God, I can't believe I forgot to include these books. These books were MY LIFE for so long this autumn. I was hanging out in Oz while the rest of the world went on around me. These books are long, dense, and dreadfully inconsistent. Let's discuss.

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West is the first (and probably most famous) of the novels in this series. It's the basis for the Broadway show that I haven't seen, so I can tell you absolutely nothing about the comparisons (maybe Denora could help you with that), but this book is a killer. I am the dumbass who decided I would buy the unabridged audiobook for my trips back and forth between where we live now and the Twin Cities when I was making that trip two times a week for a while. It was approximately eighty million hours long and I felt every hour as if it were an entire week. The first half is SO BORING I thought I would die, but I persevered and got interested in the last half. So there's that. Maguire is a master of setting and I feel like he was loyal to L. Frank Baum's original world while adding much needed complexity. If tales of political intrigue and international relations interest you, you'll forgive Maguire for the somewhat tedious backstory in the beginning of the novel for the payoff at the end. So I was interested enough to get the second installment from our library.

Son of a Witch - This is the best book in the series, by far. I desperately wanted more about the main character from Wicked (Elphaba), but got a book about someone else entirely. You'd think the title of the book would have clued me in, but sometimes I'm not so smart. Despite my expectations, I loved where Maguire went with this book because there was only so much he could do with the slightly prickly character of Elphaba and I thought it was a brilliant move on his part to go in this new direction. When I was done with this, I went right to the library to get the next installment in the series.

A Lion Among Men - zzzzzzzzzzzz...I hated this book. It took me two weeks to get through it (which is insanely long for me). I didn't care for all the backstory on the Cowardly Lion and the flashbacks were hella boring. I felt like this book was a strange placeholder in the series that did absolutely nothing to move the plot forward. I just wanted this book to be over. And when it was over, I decided I had to complete the series because the last book had just come out AND there was a chance the last book would be as good as Son of a Witch.

Out of Oz - This book was released on November 1 of this year and I was at the library that week and I was the FIRST PERSON to check it out of our library. Woo hoo! I wanted to love this book and I loved parts of it, but not the whole thing. There were some slow moving plots and reintroducing long forgotten characters who acted out of character. The ending did nothing but make me feel ambivalent about ALL THE TIME I spent reading these books. But, and this is a bit but, I am glad Dorothy Gale came back and I feel like that made the series come full circle.

All in all, I would recommend reading the second half of Wicked and all of Son of a Witch. Sadly, if you did that, you would probably be completely confused. But once you're done with Son of a Witch, the rest of the series is completely optional as far as I'm concerned. If you're going to read this series, be warned that it will take forever.

More Library Books

2011-12-28T19:29:00.000-06:00

It's been a long time since I've actually talked about any books here. I've read countless, but here's what I can remember. I think I need a better method of tracking what I read.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood - So this is the original in dystopian fiction, I guess. I rather liked it despite the fact that the copy I read smelled like cigarette smoke and fascinated the kitten so much I had to read it in secret in rooms far away from little kitty teeth.

Russian Winter by Daphne Kalotay - This book is a departure from what I normally read. It's a historical romance/mystery/academic novel filled with unlikeable characters and charming settings. I enjoyed it despite the fact that every person in the novel was kind of a jerk.

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness - 600 pages so you can come to absolutely no fucking conclusion?! Fuck you, Deborah Harkness. If I had known this tome was the beginning of what I can only imagine is a series of eight million books, I would not have invested my time in it. I really enjoyed the first third, but then I realized that there was NO WAY she could clear up all the plot points she'd started and then I felt used. Yes, it's a good book if you like your books to have no ending and a thousand plot points left to be answered. (Additionally, vampire/non-vampire relationships can never end well. Can we all agree to this? And stop writing about it? Buffy and Angel have way covered this ground.)

The Spellman Files and The Spellmans Strike Again by Lisa Lutz - An incredibly lighthearted series about the Spellman family's private detective agency. Each book was amusing and made me chuckle. There are more books in the series, but my library doesn't have them, unfortunately, so I'm debating whether or not to spend some of my "get well soon" amazon gift cards to buy them on my Kindle. Not sure. But they are a nice, fluffy read.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender - Oh, hell no. DO NOT WASTE YOUR TIME no matter what the Internetz (especially Elizabeth) tells you to do. This book is NONSENSE. It has a great premise and that's where it falls apart. (Also, this is where I tell you that magical realism is not my forte.) Dumb, dumb, dumb book. WASTE OF TIME. I want my hours back, Ms Bender.

The Son of Neptune (Heroes of Olympus Book 2) by Rick Riordan - I'm sick of Percy Jackson. There, I said it. Percy is NO HARRY POTTER. I read the Percy Jackson series and I was totally pumped when the first book of this series introduced new characters. I even wrote that I loved the first book of the series (The Lost Hero). I guess it didn't occur to me (SPOILER ALERT) that the lost hero was indeed Percy Jackson and our boy Percy was going to make a comeback. I am so done with him, though, that I rolled my eyes through this book. No more Percy. Which brings me to...

The Red Pyramid (The Kane Chronicles Book 1) by Rick Riordan - I just couldn't give up on Riordan, though. The first few books of the Percy Jackson series had such promise. But this series? It's just like Percy Jackson with Egyptian gods instead of Greek. It has equally annoying protagonists and I resented every minute I read this book. I think I'm done with Riordan although I really feel badly about that. But do read the first few books in the Percy series before he kills you with repetition!!

Somebody Everyone Listens To by Suzanne Supplee - zzzzzzzzzzz

New York to Dallas (in Death) by J. D. Robb - I just keep reading these Robb books because I want the smartness of the earlier books, but I've been let down by the last few books. I appreciate that Robb tried to shake things up by switching settings and introducing new characters, but it just didn't work for me. I think there's so much she can do with her original characters - a book told from Peabody/McNab/Mira point of view, a book without Roarke (send him to Ireland or something), or something. This is not doing it for me, despite what looks like amazing reviews on amazon.

Moon Dance, Vampire Moon, American Vampire (Vampire for Hire #1, #2, and #3) by J.R. Rain - A suburban mom becomes a vampire through no fault of her own and now she has to find a way to make a living without the support of her ex-husband and maintain a relationship with her children. I really liked these books. The preview for the fourth book made it seem like perhaps there was going to be a child turned into a vampire and I decided I didn't need to read Interview with a Vampire again.

That's all I can think of right now. I have a list of books I want my husband to get me at the library this week, so I will write about those soon. Any recommendations to add to my list of books to read?

Post Surgery (Alternately, NGS Gives TMI to the Interwebz)

2011-12-21T20:16:00.000-06:00

Here's the truth about what happens after surgery. My surgery was four hours long, done the day of the injury. I have three plates and countless screws replacing bones in my lower left leg. That's all well and good, but here's the dirty truth no one ever tells you. I'm thinking of this as the equivalent of my birth story, although no one ever gives me enough details about their birth stories, either.

I remember going into the OR, having the anesthesiologist mock both Michiganders and the Detroit Lions (who were going to get their asses handed to them by the New Orleans Saints that night), having said jackass anesthesiologist put a mask over my mouth and I don't remember anything else until I woke up in my hospital room during the second quarter of SNF. After I ascertained that I was alive and my leg was still attached, I ask how the Lions were doing (badly).

Medication: While in the hospital, I had an IV with some pain medication. I rarely used it because I would forget to push the button. When the physical therapist came in the room, I immediately hit it, though, because she wanted me to GET UP AND MOVE. I didn't like her very much at the time, but I learned a lot through our appointments - how to get up, use the walker, and do very practical things like get in and out of the car.

For pain: I was on oxycontin while I was in the hospital and for a week when I got home. I took it twice a day at first and tapered down to just before bed for the last four days. For the first week and a half, I took 5 - 15 milligrams of oxycodone every four hours depending on pain. I rarely took 15, but did once in a while, especially at night. I am on oxycodone still, 5 milligrams before bed. I also took some before our car ride to the doctor yesterday, but I'm pretty sure I could have done without it. I can take Tylenol every six hours as needed.

Other meds: I take aspirin twice a day to prevent blood clots. Since I'm not super active at the moment, it's a risk. I'm also on birth control pills, which increases the risk. I really worry about blood clots, so I try to get up and about the apartment as much as I can tolerate. I take a calcium supplement with Vitamin D to increase bone growth because my doctor is terrified about how soft my bones are*. I took a laxative for about a week when I got home because a side effect of the oxy medications is constipation. I am still taking a stool softener because, um, it's hard to poop. I have never in my life been constipated before and it sucks, maybe worse than the pain from my foot. Seriously. I took an anti-nausea drug while I was in the hospital and I still take it occasionally when the constipation thing is bad. I am glad I tolerate the pain medication as I am quite comfortable most of the time, but I have never been in so much intestinal discomfort as I have been in the last three weeks.

Bathroom: My dear husband put in a new detachable showerhead with a hose before I got home. He also purchased a TRANSFER BENCH. If there is one piece of home health care that I had never heard of before this incident that I will never tire of singing praises, it is this bench. It allows me to get in the shower without worrying about my foot or falling down. I am pretty well obsessed with it.

Getting there: It's a pain in the ass. I use a walker because when I tried to use crutches in the hospital, even the physical therapist was puzzled by my lack of coordination. Crutches = me falling again, so I use the walker, even though it's slow as hell. I spend most of my time on our recliner with pillows stacked up under my foot, so it's an agonizing process of moving the pillows, putting the recliner down, getting the walker ready, and then getting to the restroom. It can take ten minutes. As soon as I stand up, all the blood rushes down to the injury site, causing swelling and pain almost immediately. I dislike the process intensely.

Using: My husband taped a styrofoam cooler shut and I use this cooler to prop up my foot while I'm doing my business. Because of the constipation issues from the pain medications, I am sometimes in there for a while. Until very recently, I required my husband to help me do everything from sitting down to positioning the cooler to getting up again. I can now officially say that I can use the bathroom by myself now, but I found it all quite humiliating. Marriage vows say in sickness and in health, but they say nothing about using the restroom.

Bathing: It's exhausting. The transfer bench is awesomeness. The shower head is pretty awesome, too. I could have bathed myself from the day we got home if I wasn't so tired and scared of hurting myself. I still have Dr. BB stay in the bathroom with me, but he mostly just talks to me and fetches me things and makes sure our kitten doesn't jump in the bathtub with me (she likes running water, no matter how hot). I have yet to shave my legs, but I think I have enough endurance to be able to pull it off the next time I shower.

Activities: I had planned on reading, watching television, doing crosswords, writing cards and letters, and being cerebral and smart! But, see, the words floated in front of my eyes. I couldn't concentrate on 30 minute television shows without losing focus and having to ask for clarification on a plot line during an episode of How I Met Your Mother. It's only been the last few days as I've taken less and less of the pain medication that I can stay awake longer than about two and a half hours. I can finally read, but watching tv or movies is difficult. The pain medication does weird things to you, people.

Sleeping: I sleep a lot, but that's not terribly unusual if I'm completely truthful. I slept in the recliner for the first two or three nights I was home, but then I moved to the bedroom. I switched sides of the bed with my husband so my bad leg would be on the outside of the bed (so I wouldn't whack him with my cast in the middle of the night) and we propped up my foot with about eight hundred pillows. My husband was worried I would kick the pillows off and drop my foot to the floor, so he rigged up our coffee table next to the bed with blankets and pillows so my leg would fall onto that. I have never had to use the coffee table back up, but it comforts Dr. BB so he sets it up every night. Secretly, it comforts me, too. I have trouble sleeping, not because of the pain, but because I have extremely vivid nightmares. I think those are side effects of the pain medication and I hope they'll go away when I stop taking it (hopefully by the end of this week or next). I have yet to kick the boy while sleeping.

Pillows: While I was in the hospital, Dr. BB pretty much stayed with me from 7 in the morning until 10 or 11 at night. This meant that he didn't have any time to buy pillows. We only had the pillows on our couch and the two pillows on our bed at our house and that wasn't going to be enough. I was surprised when I went out to the car and found the backseat filled with brand new pillows, not entirely sure when the boy had the time to buy them. He later confessed that he had gone to Walmart and purchased the pillows at midnight the night before, breaking our decade long ban on all things Walmart, damn it all. These pillows are kind of crappy, I will admit, but do the job. We have seven of these Walmart pillows and I've only ever wished for more a few times.

Pain: The most pain was in the xray room before surgery. Since then, I've been relatively comfortable in terms of pain. But I am uncomfortable most of the time. Yesterday my cast was replaced with a heavy, hot, pain in the ass boot. I am constipated a great deal of the time. I hate bothering my husband for food, so I am somewhat hungry a lot (although I'm starting to get better about just catching him when he's already in the kitchen to bring me food!). And, probably the worst thing is that the rest of my body does not need to be immobile, so all of my joints and muscles are craving movement I just can't give it. I spend a lot of time trying to get the rest of my body comfortable.

Eating: I was too nauseated to eat anything while I was in the hospital. I would dutifully fill out a meal request sheet each day only to be horrified when it was delivered? Why would I circle chicken broth? What the fuck was I thinking? (Story from the hospital: My dear husband had gone to get a salad for himself for dinner. When he started eating, I made him leave my room because it smelled too bad. Salad. Dude, I was in a bad way.) Two weeks to the date from the accident, I ate my first "real" meal. But, and here's where things are sad, I still don't have any cravings for anything sweet. Our cupboards are filled with Christmas cookies, fudge, and other goodies people keep sending and I don't want any of it! But, salt? Bring it on. My friend visited and brought us some Doritos, which we would NEVER buy ourselves and I've been chowing on those.

Things that I regularly eat: popsicles, hard boiled eggs, pudding, bagel with butter, peanut butter, or cream cheese, yogurt with granola, tortilla chips, crackers, prunes, bananas, various types of other fruit, prunes/craisins/other dried fruit and sherbet.

Things my husband purchased thinking I would for sure want to eat, but can't even fathom eating: ice cream, M&Ms, and Cheezits. Someday I will eat them, I hope.

I don't know why I'm writing this. Mostly just so if someone googles "what happens to me after surgery" I can reassure them that I, too, needed help getting to the bathroom.

*Me too. We will be discussing some weird genetic things at my follow up appointment in a month.

The Woman in the Mirror

2011-12-20T17:05:00.000-06:00

Each time I see her, I recoil in shock. Her hair is greasy, uncombed, and tinged with so much grey, I turn around to be sure a smoker is not ashing on her. Her face is pale, so pale that she knows that when she tries to use foundation, even the lightest shade is going to be too dark. Her eyes appear larger and larger each time I pass, as if to encroach upon her face so she is eventually just lank hair and dark eyes peering out of spectacles.

She is always hunched forward over a walker. This posture, combined with the grey hair, makes her appear so much older than she really is. Today there were tears as she angrily tried to stand up straighter, only to lose her balance and almost reinjure herself. She struggles for independence every day, telling her ever patient husband, no, I can do it by myself almost as often as her two year old nephew says that same thing to his mother. The independence is hard won, but he still won't leave her alone for longer than an hour.

***********

Today my doctor made fun of himself as he talked about how I had to embrace the injury, to accept it - work around it. My life is a stream and there's a big boulder in the stream bed, he said, and I can either stop flowing or I can go around that boulder.

I have embraced my injury. I examined the HUGE incisions and watched as they pulled out stitch after stitch after stitch today. I will do the exercises and hopefully regain full range of motion.

But I have a harder time with the accident itself. It was a stupid slip and fall accident, but when I close my eyes at night, I see it over and over and over and over and over again. Falling, crawling, begging, alone, scared, and helpless. I stay awake for hours, knowing that when I close my eyes, every nightmare will be me at a low point in my life when I felt most powerless. I wake up sobbing, clutching my leg, unable to articulate to that ever patient man what is wrong with me.

When the paperwork first came that said all of this was going to be covered by workman's compensation (which: weird, but thank your own mystical deity), we pored over it and laughed about the part that said it would cover any mental health counseling needed. What on earth would I need that for? a slightly moronic me laughed.

***********

She gets stronger every day. She can use the walker to get down the hallway and back now without being winded. She can stay awake for longer than three hours at a stretch. She can go to the bathroom without help. She can read without the words swimming in her vision (finally).

She will get through this. Because the woman in the mirror is stronger than she looks right now.

Life Happens

2011-12-12T16:34:00.001-06:00

You wake up one morning, captivated by the lovely snow. You think to yourself, hey, this is why people live here. The trees are beautifully flocked with snow and it's just a delightful world. You hum Jingle Bell Rock as you clear off your car, slowly drive to work, enjoying the sports radio talk about how your team is going to play on Sunday night football for the first time since you moved to Minnesota, and everything is going your way.

Until you get to your job, step out of your car, and fall on the black ice, breaking your ankle, and say a word so foul that you are embarrassed about it even as you type these words.

The most traumatic part of the entire incident is how I had TO CRAWL from my where I fell across what seemed to be a mile-long driveway, up seven stairs, to pound on the door of a family who had no idea that their Sunday morning was going to be so incredibly screwed up by their son's math tutor clutching her leg in agony.

I will be fine. Some day. The surgery went well. There will be no weight bearing on my leg for (gulp) six to eight weeks, but some day I will be able to once again go to the bathroom by myself, take a shower by myself, and do more than squirt water from across the room at the naughty kitty when she is incredibly naughty.

I have done no Christmas shopping and have no idea how it's going to get done. I have sent out no Christmas cards and I have no idea how that's going to get done. But I feel like I had to post here, to let you know that I'm still here, I'm still alive, and I'm going to be fine.

One week down. Five to seven more to go.

My Urban Meyer Story

2011-11-29T17:21:00.001-06:00

Background: Urban Meyer is a college football coach, a particularly successful football coach. He had his first division one job at my alma mater. He is currently in the news because he took a coaching job at The Ohio State University after less than a year after leaving Florida because of some ~~(stupid player behavior/NCAA violations/hoodlums on his team)~~ health problems.

The Story: Little known NGS fact - I worked for the athletic department at my undergrad institution as an academic tutor. I was a highly coveted tutor, not only because I'm awesome, but also because I had a lot of mathematical knowledge and could tutor A LOT of different types of math classes, the discipline with the most tutor requests. If an athlete missed an appointment, it was a big damn deal because it meant someone else who could possibly have had that time slot was missing out.

So my last semester working this job, there was a new football coach. The woman who had been my supervisor left her position and no one had taken over her job, so no one was keeping the student athletes accountable about missing tutoring sessions. I had a football player who missed three appointments in a row. Since no one in the academic progress office seemed to care, I emailed the new football coach, Urban Meyer, directly. But I want to be clear - he wasn't THE Urban Meyer at the time - he was just some untested football coach.

Urban Meyer emailed me back, telling me he would take action. And I don't know exactly what he said to that student athlete, but the player showed up for the next appointment, all apologies and maybe with some candy to bribe me. When I was introduced to Meyer later on in the semester, he remembered my email and told me "you can coach any of my boys anytime you want." He cared about his players, their academic progress, and the BG community.

I hope he does well at OSU, despite the fact that it's a school I despise. I have a great respect for the man despite all the controversy and strangeness that has swirled around him recently. Do good work, Mr. Meyer. But more importantly, be well, Mr. Meyer.

Green!

2011-11-10T18:25:00.001-06:00

Even though it is grey and cloudy outside, inside our apartment, life is thriving. Our kitten weighs in at over six pounds, our spider plant is out of control, the herbs haven't succumbed to winter's doldrums yet, and our Christmas cactus has decided it needs to bloom in November. Isn't it pretty?

What? I'm not supposed to bloom until Christmas? Whatever.

I worry about this plant. My mother-in-law gave it to us when it was just a little bitty thing last year, one of five plants from a bouquet her sister had sent the family. I tried to beg off, using that old "we don't have green thumbs" excuse, but as we were leaving, she shoved it in my arms. I just couldn't say no. She's doing chemotherapy now, my mother-in-law, that is, not the plant. And honestly, even though it doesn't make any sense, I keep thinking that if I can somehow keep this plant alive, she'll thrive just like it does. So I worry. I want it to do well. But I worry that the petals will start to fall, the blooms won't come, and I'll have failed.

Instead, it brings light to us on this dark November day. We jokingly place bets on when that bud is finally going to pop open and show us everything it has to offer. We wonder when the kitty will finally eat it. We test the soil semi-regularly, but since we don't know what we're looking for in the soil,we're on a fool's errand and we know it. We put it in a place of honor, letting it represent family and love, and care for it as best we know how, pushing the worry into some other realm, some other universe, some other day.

(I tried to get pictures of Zelda the Kitten but she's a horrible picture taker. I'm going to enlist the help of a better photographer, aka Dr. BB, and get some adorable Zelda pictures up here soon enough. She's darling and adorable, but just not a cooperative model.)

Tuning In

2011-11-07T23:16:00.001-06:00

I can't work the iPod in the car and drive at the same time just like I can't talk on my cell phone or read a map without almost driving off the road. I don't take pride in this, but it's a weakness that I understand and recognize. In and out of the bluffs, the radio signals fall off around every bend, so we don't bother to preset stations. I just hit the scan button and hope for the best.

Joe Diffie sings "Bigger than the Beatles." I haven't heard this song in years, but I'm singing along with the lyrics like it's 1995. Images of my first pickup truck driving down a dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust behind float through my mind.

'Til Tuesday comes on with "Voices Carry." I think about how lucky I am that I feel safe at home, loved and appreciated. The nightmares have stopped. The white noise drowns out the song and I gladly change channels.

Suddenly I'm laughing as I hear the dulcet tones of Kid Rock blaring "Bawitdaba." I'm in college, living in a crappy off campus apartment on Clough Street with my Bestest Friend. There's a gecko in an aquarium, spaghetti boiling on the stove top, and grape jelly not in the fridge.

It's NPR for the rest of the drive home. Mismanaged government home and abroad, sexual harassment problems for Herman Cain, Penn State in turmoil over coverups and sex scandals, Berlusconi is still an idiot, and I suddenly reach for that scan button once again.

The Incident

2011-11-03T22:24:00.000-05:00

It started innocently enough. After I finished a workout, a workout that included much panting and sweating and dreaming of killing my cartoon trainer every time she gave the impossible order of giving it 110%, I went into the bedroom to strip off my clothes before my shower. As I sat down on the bed to take off my shoes and socks, I realized that the mattress I was sitting on was wet. Also wet - the pillows, the sheets, and the box spring. Water was dripping down the inside of the window above our bed. There was no explanation for the water since it wasn't raining.

Long story short, there was much cursing, moving of furniture, drying of same furniture, fans going nonstop, towels used to collect water, and a call to the management company where I was told "they'd get to it sometime this week" while water continued to stream into our bedroom. At this point, I realize that the water smells bad and I am gagging as I am trying to clean the mess up.

When Dr. BB gets home, we wander downstairs to consult with our downstairs neighbor. It goes something like this:

Us: Uh, is there water leaking out any of your windows facing X Road?
Him: Uh, no?
Us: Well, our window is leaking water, but it's not raining...
Him: Uh, well, I'll let you know if I see any water.

We knocked on the upstairs neighbor's door, only to find no one home. Dr. BB wrote a very kind note requesting information from them and slipped it under their door. Half an hour later, a note is slipped under our door. I would take a picture of it and post it here, but I'm just too lazy to hunt down the camera. Turns out that Brandon and Tiffany* from upstairs had a "problem with a filter," but they fixed it and the water is no longer leaking.

We know that Brandon and Tiffany have a HUGE fish tank in their main room because we can see it through a window. Turns out they must have another one in their bedroom because now our bedroom SMELLS LIKE A FUCKING FISH TANK.

Water continued to seep through the window for the next two days and have I mentioned that IT SMELLS LIKE A FISH TANK in our bedroom?

Today I finally went to Target and shelled out $4 for some Febreze. Now our bedroom smells like SPRING AND INSPIRE FEBREZE. I am quite upset about this situation.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, the maintenance man has not yet showed up.

*Names are unchanged because I don't give a shit about protecting the innocent.

Dear Detroit Lions

2011-11-02T22:03:00.003-05:00

Dear Detroit Lions,

I am a loyal fan. When I was growing up, I lived in a house with a devoted Chicago Bears fan (ARGH!) and I rooted for you just to spite my father. But eventually I started to really love you. You are representative of what's right with Detroit City - hardworking men and women who continually get beat down over and over and over again, but get back up again and again and again. Ford Field brings a lift to downtown Dtown, part of the revitalization of a city that desperately needs hope. Roary is one of the best mascots in the NFL, Lions fans are loyal, and ours is a storied franchise that deserves its place in football history.

But you also haven't won an NFL championship since 1957, before they called it the Super Bowl. And you haven't even been in the playoffs since 1999. I've been lugging around my Lions fandom from city to city, hoping against hope that someday someone would need to be the person wearing Honolulu blue in the room at a Sunday Night Football game. You haven't had a winning season since 2000!!! Let us not even talk about the 2008 team that went without a single win. But things started to turn around. Jim Schwartz was hired on as coach and brought some excitement back to Ford Field. Matt Stafford was drafted as quarterback and Calvin Johnson began to show the world why the Lions had drafted him. Cliff Avril brought something to the defense, Schwartz started working on shoring up the offensive line, and we had a team at long last!! I'm not entirely sold on Ndamukong Suh as an addition to our team, but things are starting to look good for us. We currently have a winning record this season!!

The Lions Bear usually doesn't watch television - he hangs out here to the left of the television set.

Please don't let me down. Keep it up. It's too bad we are in the same division as the seemingly unbeatable Green Bay Packers, but I think we will make the playoffs. Please. And if you could beat the Bears again when we play in Chicago in a couple of weeks, I could enjoy another victory this season over the dreaded Bears. And maybe, just maybe, I could brag just a little bit to the man I married who is a Bears fan (ARGH!).

But now the Lions Bear sits on the recliner to root on his team.

Good luck! Please do me a solid and keep on winning!!

The Town

2011-11-01T22:37:00.003-05:00

The name is a bastardized version of Sioux name, the daughter of a chief who, the story goes, died tragically in order to avoid marrying a man she did not love. It's a gorgeous river town, with the Mighty Mississippi making up the eastern border. It sits in a river valley, bluffs surrounding it, protecting it from the worst of the Minnesota weather and giving it the claim of "most temperate city in Minnesota." The most notable landmark in town is a rocky mass of limestone that juts out over the rest of the bluffs, the only limestone remaining from the quarrying that was an early industry in the town.

Taken from the scenic overlook when we first moved in August

The 2010 census puts the population at just over 27,000. Three institutions of higher learning are located in the city and the combined enrollment of those schools is about 10,000 of that population. But education is not the number one employer here - industry and health care get the top billing. More than 20% of the land area of the city (town?) is water and it feels damp and wet everywhere you go. As I sink into the sheets at night, I squirm around, feeling the dank invade my soul. Rumor has it ice skating is going to be awesome this winter thanks to the lakes that make up such a large part of the town.

It's a border town and we've taken our bikes across the bridge to Wisconsin more than once. It comes with the eccentricities of any border town - the Fleet and Farm has both Vikings and Packers apparel for sale, we get television channels from both sides of the river, and there is a lot of talk about filing taxes in two different states at cocktail parties. When we first moved here, all we could talk about was how nice the people were. And they are nice. Road rage doesn't seem to exist here. Folks let pedestrians cross the streets without marked crosswalks. The clerks at the grocery store are genuinely concerned when Italian parsley is not in stock. The baristas at the local coffee shop are willing to make recommendations. It's weird to actually see Minnesota nice in its full glory here since no one who lives in the Twin Cities is from Minnesota, you don't actually get it there.

Dr. BB loves it here. He really does. I hope someday I do, too.

Believing

2011-10-27T20:42:00.001-05:00

There is power in music - power to set the mood, change the mood, and be the mood - but silence is beyond powerful. The daily news pains. If there is an omnipotent, omnipresent deity in charge, it should be ashamed of letting things fall apart this way. Monday night football should be available on a network channel and I shouldn't have to sneak into restaurants and bars to watch it. Even if Halloween falls on a Sunday, kids should be allowed to trick or treat on Halloween itself. Nationalized health care works for Canada and Australia. The wealthiest in this country have too much wealth. Every child in this country should be well fed, well loved, and have access to dental and health care. This I believe.

God. Gods. Bringing children into a world that will be a better place when they grow up. My cat will someday behave for more than ten minutes at a time. Joni Mitchell is a better artist than Joan Baez. Ndamukong Suh is a good investment for the Detroit Lions. Politicians will put aside partisan bickering and asshattery to make tough choices to help those who need it the most. Resources will be distributed in a fair and equitable manner. This I do not believe.

The Detroit Lions will win their division. Children born today will know the level of peace and prosperity I enjoyed while growing up with Clinton in the White House. There is an omnipresent, omnipotent deity watching over us, waiting for the perfect moment to make it all better. True love exists. Kids will be allowed to be kids, allowed to run, laugh, dance, and play without fear or worry. This I want to believe.

The Beekeeper's Apprentice

2011-10-20T16:30:00.005-05:00

One of the more charming aspects of our new town is the local library. It's small, but I've yet to search for a book that I can't find in their collection. Even more excitingly, I've yet to look for a book that was checked out. It's a college town, and if the undergrads here are anything like I was when I was in college, they can't even tell you where the local library is located. Why bother when you can get anything you want from the university library?! So the library is always quiet and I can always find the books I'm looking for.*

But the library itself is not what I cheer about the most. What I adore is the "remarks from readers" page that the library has provided at the front of each book. Here readers can add their own book reviews. I just love it. I recently checked out The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King and this is what I saw when I opened the book:

Click to make larger

Remarks from the reader...

dull

6/4/05 No, very dull.

8/09 No, extremely delightful, written in the manner of Jane Austen or the Brontes - a period piece written by a modern woman. I look forward to reading the next book in the series. Possible the "dull" and "very dull" comments were written by admirers of Sue Grafton and Janet Evanovich - I, too, enjoy those writers, but the books are not the well-researched, intelligent books this one is - they are interesting for sure, and American, not British in tone.

I just love it. I was a bit confused because so many people had recommended this book to me, so I had assumed it was just a well loved piece of fiction but the discourse here reminded me that, once again, people are so hard to predict.

For my sake, my addition says this (on the back of the page pictured):
10/2011 This is a great book. If you've read any Sherlock Holmes stories, this is great fun. I've always felt the lack of a strong female character was a weakness of those stories and this book fixes the problem. Do read it - it's fun!

I've seen a few of these in the library, but this was by far the best one. I'll post more if I see any more controversies brewing in the stacks!!

*The major exception to the "find the books I'm looking for" rule is young adult books. This is no different than any other library I've ever been to, but things are always shelved incorrectly or missing in this section and it drives me batty. But I guess that just means I'll have to start reading more grown up books.

Coup d'kitten

2011-10-17T18:45:00.002-05:00

Hi all. My name is Zelda. I am approximately four months old and absolutely adorable. The adorableness is a distraction so my people won't know my true evil nature. My people spoil me senseless, buy me lots of toys, and play with me all the time. I, for my part, give love and cuddles to the girl person, especially when she's covered in my favorite fleece blanket (see above) and chase the boy person's legs all the time because he's usually kicking a ball for me to chase, so I say, hey, skip the middleman here, Imma gonna chase the legs.

As far as I can tell, my life is very difficult. All the time, those people stuff me in a carrier and take me to this office with other animals and then these people in blue outfits poke things in me! Also, they don't let me climb on the table, the entertainment center, or even go into the bedroom at all! What's a kitty to do? I'm plotting an overthrow of the apartment so I can whatever I want to do. And that girl person is always cleaning my ears, touching my feet, and brushing me. I find myself appalled at her audacity in touching me like that. Someday I'm going to stuff my paws in her ears when she isn't paying attention.

I sleep a lot, but when I'm not sleeping, I'm totally looking for trouble. I try to eat the houseplants, climb up everything, and bite things. I'm teething right now, so I like to bite. I like biting my people best of all, but I'll bite just about anything - paper, plastic, wood, you know, whatever someone leaves handily about for me to bite. I also like to dash out of our apartment and watch my people drop whatever they have in their hands to come chase me down the hall. It's so funny to watch people run - run for their lives.

My favorite sleeping place is on the female person. The boy person is too sharp for me. How come he doesn't have nice padding like the girl? I will, of course, accept sleeping on the couch as a second place substitute, but I really like to be the only one on the couch at the time. Sometimes I like to keep my people on their toes by sleeping in really weird places like the bathtub, but most of the time, I like to be sleeping on something soft. Up next I'm devising plot to force them to allow me into the bedroom where there's a thing that looks really big and soft to sleep on.

I'm five pounds right now and I seem to be getting a little bit longer every day. I have really short legs and so I miss a lot of jumps which makes my people laugh like crazy and I think it's mean that they laugh at me, but I am getting longer and longer and pretty soon I'm going to be so big I take over and show those humans that Zelda is the one in charge in this house. They'll learn, mark my words. I won't be a little kitten forever.

Mission Possible

2011-09-19T19:16:00.000-05:00

She didn't know she was my mission today. She was innocently doing her job. But she was IT. She was my reason.

*************************

"What's on your agenda today?"

"I'm going to send out a few resumes and hang out with the cat." I think a little harder before adding, perhaps a bit too exuberantly, "oh, and it's a vacuum day!" Crap. I have clearly overplayed my excitement about what to do today.

"I have a mission for you," he says as he slides on his shoes, "should you choose to accept it."

I sit up. Ooooohhhh, a mission.

"I want you to leave the apartment and go talk to a person," he says. Suddenly I am slouched back down again. "An adult person," he clarifies, knowing I am likely to just wander across the street to talk to the little kids playing in the playground."Not the cat," he clarifies further, as if I am suddenly mindless and unaware of the difference between a feline and a person. "I worry about you being home alone all the time with just the cat."

It's not that I don't want to talk to an adult person. It's that I have no idea who I should talk to. I decide that it counts if I talk to a cashier, if I am friendly, if I am polite, if I ask relevant questions that demand more than two word answers.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, I tuck the blanket up around my neck, recline back on the couch, shut my eyes, curl my fingers around the cat's belly as she jumps up on my chest, and begin to cry.

******************************

But I shall not accept defeat. I work out, I vacuum, I scoop the litter, I clean the stove top, the fridge, and consider making the bed, only to realize I don't want to make the bed. I try desperately not to talk to the cat like she's a person, but damn it, she's all I have.

*******************************

When the vet calls to say the medication we ordered is in, I hurriedly get dressed and run over there. The woman working the register doesn't know she's my mission, but after a few questions about the medication and scheduling yet another appointment, I have fulfilled my mission.

Mission complete.

Nobody Gets Off In This Town*

2011-08-30T21:45:00.000-05:00

The last two days I've rattled about, feeling like Polly Housewife, cooking, mopping, vacuuming, dusting (OMFG who am I?), reorganizing the linen closet for the fifteenth time, listening to an endless loop of Garth Brooks, recognizing for the billionth time the brilliance of the album Sevens. (Just for the record, fuck off, all you haters. Sevens is far better than any other studio album in the Brooks oeuvre.) In the tiny container of our apartment, I can control the music selection, the number of chocolate chip cookies in the cookie tin, the number of times I check Facebook every day (three), and where I put the red sheets in the linen closet. Outside of #206, I control little, little of my own destiny or joy. So I make another batch of cookies, do another load of laundry, and run the vacuum compulsively.

My husband has been on the academic job market for quite some time. And in late July he got an offer and he took it. We moved in early August and now here we are. I am unemployed. He is so employed that even when he's home, he's working. I am still commuting back and forth to Minneapolis, finishing up some commitments there, but most days I sit in our apartment, filling out job application after job application for jobs I don't really want, but not knowing what else to do.

I nearly screamed at the computer every time someone posted a congratulatory comment on Facebook. That's great for Dr. BB! Hooray! That's exciting!

Yeah. Exciting. Fuck that. The anger I feel over this move is so intense that sometimes I can hardly look at my husband without erupting.

But. And this is a big but. This was a deal we made when I dropped out of grad school. We would take a job wherever he got one. And it's not his fault. It could be a lot worse.

He loves it here. There is good biking. There is a lot of outdoorsy type beauty.

I hate it here. There's nothing to do, no place to shop, no place to go.

The discussion boiled down to the following:
Him: If we stay in the Twin Cities, I will be going backwards in my career.
Me: If we move there, I will be going backwards in my life.

Of course we moved. We are here. I am dealing. Tomorrow I will slap the smile back on my face and go about the farce of a life I have. Small town America, here I fucking come.

*Who else but the one and only Garth Brooks?

Deafening

2011-07-11T22:36:00.000-05:00

When I move, I grab my head to make sure it hasn't come loose.

When I wake up, my jaw is sore from the clenching and unclenching.

When the yoga pose for triangle is announced, I cower, knowing I can not move my neck that way.

When I sit down here to type something, anything, the cursor blinks at me, mocking me, frustrating me.

Draft after draft I have started. Draft after draft I have let languish.

I'll be back soon. As soon as I have something to say.

The Summer Solstice

2011-06-22T11:38:00.000-05:00

Overcast sky, tornado watches all around the Metro, dew point so close to the actual temperature that sweat slides down my back in an unrelenting stream of salt.

Holding hands, we walk around the lake, impressed by the sheer aloneness we feel in this city. Everyone has been scared inside by the Armageddon forecasts, but we walk. Our sweaty hands soon drop to our sides as we continue on, occasional words spoken, side glances given, and smiles exchanged.

It's not the first time we've been here. Our lives up in the air, exciting phone calls made, the waiting game being played out. We've been married over three years and the entire time we've been on the edge of building something that has slipped away just at the moment we most needed it. But today we are happy with what we have.

We have afternoon walks together. We have evenings curled up on the couch together, reading and flirting with my legs thrown across his lap. We have lazy mornings together, lingering minutes over breakfast, playfully kicking one another under the table. We have bike rides to the grocery store to pick up just one lemon. We have homemade baked goods. We have parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme growing in our window boxes. We have time.

He stops suddenly and turns to me. I know his question without any words. I would be here. Always here. Because I am with you.

Faces About Town

2011-06-08T00:37:00.000-05:00

She was pregnant. I couldn't hazard a guess as to how far along, but the bump was there, quite noticeable, and as I watched her sashay in front of me, I admired her ability to pull off three inch gold heels while toting around another human being inside her. Her minidress was skin tight, black pleather, with a neckline lower than the slinkiest camisole I own. I was at once horrified, impressed, appalled, and slightly awed. Horrified by the thought of the pain of the heels on a pregnant body. Impressed by just how good she made it all look. Appalled by the trashiness of the look and by my attraction to the whole ensemble. Slightly awed by her total confidence and style. Someday I want to be as self-assured as she is.

***************

She is the only one I can count on to get things done. When everyone else ignores my emails and phone calls, she systematically finishes the tasks on my list, sends me an email letting me know everything is complete, and does so with a smile and a funny one liner.

She tells me, offhandedly, that she is transitioning to becoming a male. When she's not at the office, she goes by William. Suddenly a whole lot of recent changes in her appearance become more clear to me. "But what about here at work?" I ask. I haven't decided yet, she tells me. Flummoxed, I smile and move on to my job-related requests. Later, I am full of questions. Does she want me to call her William? Do I call her he? What does she want me to do? Can I ask her these questions now? I totally want to do the right thing, but I just don't know what that is.

***************

Checkout lane 4, fancy grocery store in the suburbs, one of those stores with the sushi counter and bottles of disgustingly real ginger ale. In front of me, a little girl is holding onto the shopping cart, a cart shaped like a race car, as if it will sprout wings and fly away if she doesn't hold onto it. I smile at her, slightly jealous that those carts didn't exist when I was her age. She's beautiful, brown hair all in tangles, big brown eyes, and elfin ears.

She says something to me in a quiet voice, but I can't quite hear her.

I squat down in front of her. "What, sweetie?"

"What's your name?"

"I'm NGS. What's your name?"

"Grace." She has two fingers in her mouth and she's talking around them in a whisper.

Still squatting, I lean in closer to her. "Are you helping your mom shop?" I nod and glance in the direction of the frazzled woman dealing with a cartful of groceries that would feed our household for a month.

The mom smiles at me.

"Yes."

"I bet you help a lot," I say, knowing in my heart she probably drives her mom crazy, but hoping that today was a good day for them.

"I always help," she whispers to me.

"I bet you do."

Just then the cashier moves her race car cart and Grace follows it. "Bye Grace."

She smiles at me, a shy, quick grin, and then her mom grabs her hand, and they are gone.

A Bad Trip to the Library

2011-05-27T12:06:00.000-05:00

Seriously. It was a bad trip to the library. I am going to talk about six books and I liked NONE OF THEM. The boy kept telling me if I disliked the books so much, maybe I shouldn't have checked them out. I was a bit defensive (how was I supposed to know these books would make me so irate?!), but now I see his point. From now on, I'm going to keep rereading the same books over and over again that I know and love. No new books. At least until I go to the library again, I guess.

Maybe this trip was a payback for the last time when I read all kinds of books I loved. So if it's a vicious cycle, it means that the five books I just took out from the library should be brilliant. Please let them be brilliant.

The Idiot Girls' Action Adventure Club by Laurie Notaro and Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A. S. King - At first, you might think these books have nothing in common. Notaro writes an autobiography and King writes a fiction piece. Notaro writes a strange combo of memoir/chick lit and King writes a teen lit tale of woe and sorrow. But, here's the kicker. Both of these books involve young women doing stupid things that make me feel stupid for reading it.

Look, I'm going to admit it. I'm a bit of a teetotaler. We still have a bottle of champagne sitting on our kitchen counter from our wedding three years ago. We have wine in our house, but only to be used for cooking. There's a bottle of potato vodka in our freezer given to my husband before he met me that has never been opened. We just don't drink spirits is what I'm saying. I never have.

I don't care if you drink a class of wine with your dinner or a beer while you're watching the football game. I really don't care. But I see no reason to read books about girls putting their lives and other people's lives in danger while getting drunk. Period. I didn't even finish Notaro's book. I was unamused and pissed off. I finished the King book, but I was very disturbed by this book. I wanted Vera to grow up, stop drinking, and stop being completely irresponsible. I kind of hated her. I know she was grieving, but that's no excuse for putting other people's lives at risk. For the entire book. From the very first page. I know that a lot of the criticisms of these books has more to do with me than with the books, but I am not going to celebrate this irresponsible behavior (other forms of irresponsible behavior on the other hand may have potential free passes).

The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey - This is a classic of the mystery genre, I know. But I gave up about half way through and have no regrets. I just couldn't even finish the boringness and the nothingeverhappeningness.

Little Bee by Chris Cleave - This was not what I expected. It was a perfectly acceptable read, but totally not worth the glowing reviews from all over.

Drought by Pam Bachorz and Delirium by Lauren Oliver - I feel like I read this line from someone else, so I'm copying here, but I am just over dystopian young adult novels. Honestly, while I enjoyed The Hunger Games, I was pretty over it by the time Mockingjay came out. As far as I can tell, it's a lose-lose situation to write the endings to these types of books. Either it's total destruction or some fake save and either way I'm pissed off. I'm not entirely sure how I want the books to end. Maybe the authors should do a Choose Your Adventure-style ending. Choose Path A if you want an unrealistic, happy ending. Choose Path B if you want to know how things would turn out if it were the real world. Choose Path C if you want to know what lame ass way the author originally intended to end this book.

Whatever. The world is already a dystopia. I don't see why I need to read about sad places in my fiction. The next time I see "imagined world" or "near future" or some such nonsense, I'm going to leave it right on the shelf where it belongs.

Makeup

2011-05-14T14:48:00.001-05:00

This is my makeup bag. It is filled with products, some of which I use reliably and some of which I don't.

This, on the other hand, is the full complement of products I do use on a "regular" makeup day.

I start with Pore Professional, the primer from Benefit. It does the job super well, but it is super expensive. Not quite as expensive as the Smashbox primer I used to use, but still, I feel like I'm putting gold on my face. I read in Real Simple that L'Oreal has a decent primer for about a fifth of the price. Is that true?

Then I use Erase Paste (also from Benefit, a trend that will continue) as a "foundation" of sorts. I mostly use it to cover up zits, the red area around my nose and cheeks, and my sometimes dark circles. I sleep more than any other adult I know, so the dark circles rarely come, but occasionally they do.


I use the tiny spatula to get the Erase Paste out, then I put it on the super cheap latex sponge and smear on the necessary blemishes. Voila. Instant perfection. Then I smear, especially at the jaw line, to make sure I don' t have one of those mask lines. I am super cool like that.

Before I do my eyeshadow, I use Stay Don't Stray eyelid primer (by Benefit). Benefit used to make an awesome eyelid primer called F.Y. Eye, but they stopped making it and replaced it with this inferior product. It's awful packaging, I always use way too much, and I can't tell how much product is left, causing me to RUN OUT on the day of a big presentation. Suck it, Benefit. Don't mess with success.

I use the Big Beautiful Eyes by Benefit shadow for most days. It basically looks like I'm not wearing any eye makeup at all. I like that. I recently purchased some green eyeshadow at Sephora, though, and I've been enjoying playing with that on days when I have nothing going on in my life.

Cheap mascara. I use it because my sister-in-law does. There's no other reason. Mascara can be so expensive and you have to replace it every two months, so I opt to use the cheap stuff. Will my life be forever changed for the better if I invest in non-drugstore mascara?

I'm still using blush from The Body Shop. I've been eying the Nars blush in Orgasm, though. Everyone says it's the miracle blush. Maybe that will be my next big Sephora purchase in another six months when the novelty of the green eyeshadow wears off.

Lip stuff to finish off. Usually I start with a lipstick and then just bring along a tube of gloss to keep freshening it up during the day. Both of these are Benefit products (Life on the A List for the gloss and Curtsy for the lipstick).

These are the brushes I use just about every day. One big one for blush (and the occasional powder I use on special days). The small one is used for eyeshadow. Both of these are from the Sonia Kaskuk Double Duty Brush Set available at Target. I wash them way less frequently than I'm supposed to, but they are hardy and inexpensive and do the job well.

And that's it my friends. My entire makeup regimen for daily use. Should I grow up and get myself a decent mascara and blush? Any recommendations? Products that you can't live without?

More Books Because All I Do When It's Gray and Rainy is Read

2011-05-13T15:10:00.000-05:00

Letters from the Inside by John Marsden – Another epistolary novel. Another novel I never want to think about again. I can’t in good conscience recommend this to anyone.

If I Stay and Where She Went by Gayle Forman – These two novels follow two characters after a life-altering car accident. The first one is told from the point of view of Mia and the second from the point of view of Adam, her boyfriend. They are both awesome books, but for what it’s worth, it’s the second one that left me feeling drained and sad and unable to focus on anything else for a day. If you can ignore the last ten pages of the book, Where She Went is absolutely in my top ten novels. So, what I’m saying is you should read these books.

Drums, Girls, and Dangerous Pie and After Ever After by Jordan Sonnenblick – Two novels centered around the story of a family. The first one is told from the POV of the older brother, the second one of the younger brother. There’s something about Sonnenblick’s writing I completely admire – the use of humor when life is complicated. I want to emulate it in my own life, instead of being so dramatic about everything. Two very big thumbs up for these books.

Two-Way Street by Lauren Barnholdt – zzzzzzzzzzzzz…oh, wait. This was a free book on my Kindle and it was, um, boring.

Sweethearts by Sara Zarr – This book followed me everywhere I went. I would run from it, hide under my blankets, pretend it didn’t exist, but it did exist. Maybe it was my mood, maybe it was the relentlessly grey skies, but this was one of the saddest books I’ve ever read. I thought it was hauntingly beautiful. It was masterful portrayal a complicated relationship between complicated people in complicated circumstances. (I read this book only because it came up on a search for books similar in style to Sarah Dessen. I would argue that it is unlike anything Sarah Dessen has every written, but I do think it would appeal to Dessen fans.)

Heart on a Chain by Cindy C. Bennett – By page ten of this book, I was attempting to muffle my tears. When my husband asked me what was wrong, I gestured in the vague direction of my Kindle as I told him it was just so sad. I had just started reading it. And it got sadder and sadder. It was a realistic portrait of abuse. It was not a realistic portrait of anything else – the romance, the ramifications of the abuse, the relationship with the other parent – but despite the obvious flaws in, you know, reality, I was moved by this book. Where were these books when I was young? I would have been comforted by this book, by the knowledge that there were others going through similar struggles, that there were others who were rootless and confused. I am not sure if I recommend this book. I guess I do. It was beautiful. I’m still thinking about it weeks later. But bring your tissues and your suspension of disbelief.

The Strange Case of Finley Jayne by Kady Cross – Another free download on my Kindle. Pretty funny and engaging. I would have purchased the sequel (you win, Amazon!) but it hasn’t been released yet, so I put it on my library request list instead.

The Girl who Could Fly by Victoria Forester – This has been on my list to read for over a year. I’ll be honest, the reason I didn’t get it was because it was in the children’s section of our local library and I can never find anything in the children’s section of our library (do you hear me downtown library?) and I always go to that section and get frustrated because things are always shelved incorrectly! Anyway, this was actually shelved correctly and it was a good, fast read. I liked it and I am sure I would have loved it when I was seven or eight. A great book for young girls just starting their chapter book reading.

Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt – It took me a few chapters to warm up to this book. As a teacher, I hate books that hate on teachers. But it wasn’t really a book hating on teachers, it was a book loving on teachers. It just takes a while to get there. I wasn’t as crazy about it as I was about The Girl who Could Fly, but it was another good read for a children’s book (I was able to get this one from the teen stacks, so I didn’t have to face the children’s section twice in one trip.)

More Books

2011-04-26T16:05:00.000-05:00

Delta Girls by Gayle Brandeis - First up, it's not the fault of this book that every time I saw the cover, the lyrics of "Delta Dawn" would run through my head. But since that's what happened, I secretly hold it against this book. Plus I figured out what the book was about in about four chapters and then I was not so secretly bored. I mean, it was interesting enough (what's that flower you've got on?), but I'm not the queen of figuring out foreshadowing, so when I can figure it out (could it be a faded rose from days gone by?), the book is probably not my friend. It was perfectly fine young adult literature, but (and did I hear you said you'd be a'meetin' him here today?) just not my cup of tea.

endgame by Nancy Garden - Somehow I picked up a string of books on bullying and the awful consequences of it and I was made sad by each one, including this one. I wish I had done more in high school to help those less fortunate than me. I wish that when I taught high school I had talked to some of the kids who sat by themselves more often. I wish, I wish, I wish...

Shakespeare Bats Cleanup by Ron Koertge - This book took me the length of a bus ride downtown to complete. It was the kind of work that would have desperately appealed to me in junior high, so I can totally see why Koertge has his followers.

Fablehaven by Brandon Mull - I don't know about this book. Just like at the beginning of the Harry Potter series, there was something so stupid about Harry always doing stuff he wasn't supposed to do, there's something incredibly stupid about the little boy in this book always doing exactly the opposite of what he was told. I think this is because I don't naturally break rules, especially rules that have been explicitly explained to me by those in authority, but I cringe at those parts of books and, yes, maybe even skip them. I just hated that kid and I don't want to read any more about him.

So B It by Sarah Weeks - I went out to eat with my high school English teacher a couple of weeks ago and she recommended this book. I read it. I don't know if it will be on my list of books to recommend to others. There's something so incredibly implausible about the premise(s) that I just couldn't stop thinking "really? no one has stepped in to do something about this?" time and time again. Suspension of disbelief is one thing, but this is treading into dangerous territories.

Girl in Translation by Jean Kwan - I went into this book very suspiciously. But I liked it. I loved the characters, the wildly predictable ending, and the look at the very environment where I live through the lens of another culture, another experience, another perspective. I would recommend this one.

What I Believe by Norma Fox Mazer - Written in the same style as Shakespeare Bats Cleanup as a series of journal entries written in list/poem/rambling run-on sentence style, this book could inspire children to just sit down and start writing. I can't say anything bad about that, can I?

Summer Crossing by Truman Capote - This is Capote's "missing novel," his first novel, the manuscript of which was found years after his death. I found it in the teen section of our local library and I am not sure who the audience for this was and maybe that's why Capote abandoned his draft because it's much too mature for who I was when I was a teenager and too insipid and vacuous for who I am as an adult. I think that if you're a Holden Caulfield fan, you will probably also like the character of Grady in this novel, but if you also thought Holden Caulfield should have jumped off a bridge on page two of The Catcher in the Rye and saved us all a lot of time, I think I would steer clear of this book.

What the Dog Saw and Other Adventures by Malcolm Gladwell - Gladwell does the Steven Levitt thing and takes two completely unrelated things and somehow winds a narrative connecting them with some unifying theme. He does this over and over again. And, as an academic, I'm somehow impressed by the ingenuity of it over and over and over again. I am addicted to unusual and interesting thought processes, even if I can't stop my inner critic from pointing out all the logical inconsistencies as I read. Gladwell is Gladwell and you either love him or hate him and I'm just amused enough to be on the love side.

Bethany's Letter

2011-04-21T16:16:00.000-05:00

This arrived in our mailbox a little over a week ago. I am sort of in love with this letter.

(click to make the image larger)

Dear Residant, 4-8-2011
Hello my name is Bethany and you do
not know me personally. I am a volunteer
and I wanted to write you since I
am unable to visit you personally.
We are approaching the anniversary
of Jesus Christ's death. With that in mind
I would like to share this thought found
at Romans 6:23, "For the wages sin pays
is death, but the gift God gives is
everlasting life by Christ Jesus our Lord."
Certainly Jesus death means a lot for us!
I would like to invite you to come
show your appreciation for what Jesus
has done as we commemorate his death
on Sunday April 17th, 2011. This is your
personal invitation, and you will notice
the time and location as well. You and
your family are welcome. Please bring
your copy of the Bible, as we will be
using it. Thank you! I hope to see
you there!
Sincerely,
Bethany R.

P.S. If you would like to
learn more or if you are
interested in having a free
home Bible study please contact me
at: blah, blah, blah

*******************************
Questions:
1) How horrified do you think Bethany would be to learn I don't own a Bible? The boy has several and we refer to them regularly for a variety of reasons, but I don't have one of my very own.

2) What do you think Bethany is like? I imagine her as an agoraphobic 30-something with five cats, wearing too long skirts and thick glasses. It's completely unfair of me, but this is what I do. What does she do for a living? Again, with the free rein of my imagination, she works at home as one of those people who scans medical documents into digital form.

3) I find the letter to be way more effective than if Bethany had stopped by. If she had stopped by, I would have cut her off at the word Jesus. But by sending this letter, I've read it approximately three dozen times and I've shown it to everyone who has crossed our apartment threshold. Now that it's been scanned for permanent safekeeping, I think I'm going to put in on the fridge. Do you suppose that's the reason Bethany was unable to visit us? I mean, it wouldn't have mattered either way since I decidedly won't be attending, but I've read it. And smiled while doing so.

4) Who is assigning Bethany addresses? Did she write one to everyone in our building? Everyone on the whole block? That's a lot of people to write to. Does she pay for the stamps herself?

5) Is Bethany worried about creepy stalker types going to her address? I blurred it out for her before I published it here, but it's kind of creepy. I'm kind of tempted to stalk her (what? she lives less than a mile away) so that I can answer the pressing questions about what Bethany looks like.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme (Literally)

2011-04-19T22:08:00.000-05:00

When we moved in together, one of our friends gave us this teensy little spider plant. We begged off using the time honored "we're not plant people" excuse, but somehow this little tiny creature was left in our apartment and we had to deal with it. We ignored the poor thing, didn't water it for ages, and still! Still it managed to thrive and grow. It grew out of one pot and then another and then I was forced to split it into three different plants. Then I gave two of them away. Then it grew again and I was forced to split it into three different plants. I gave two of them away. And then it grew again. And I split it into three plants. Are you noticing a trend here? I'm going to give two of them away this weekend.

Last year I tried to grow herbs inside for the first time in my life. It didn't work great, but we used some basil, we used some rosemary, and we killed the thyme like it didn't matter. I also had a begonia that did quite well last year.

So this is a long introduction to say that we have become "not plant people" to people who have this in their itty bitty apartment:

Below you will see the original spider plant that has caused all of the splitting and repotting (it's the big one on the right). I don't think it's possible to kill a spider plant, although when we were catsitting for a few months, we had to keep the plant in the bedroom away from a direct source of light and it didn't do well, but it still survived. Also pictured is a Christmas cactus we received around Christmastime from my inlaws (back left), the not sure how to keep it alive thyme (front left), and the little ones are chives and basil I'm starting from seed (no idea if that's going to work at all).

Below you will see the two offshoots of the spider plant we will be giving to our inlaws when we go to Iowa this weekend. On the left we have two Italian parsley plants and on the right we have a sage plant and a rosemary plant. The whole herb thing started last year when I wanted to grow Italian parsley. We use a ton of it in just about every recipe we use and it was starting to irk me that I was paying $3 every week for it when I could buy a plant for that price and have it keep going. Anyway, we never found Italian parsley last year because once it began to irk me, no one was selling herbs anymore. But this year we found it!

You will also see a bike and a guitar in this picture. My husband is to blame for both.

White & Black

2011-04-18T23:10:00.000-05:00

There are green buds on trees. Occasionally you'll see something green poking out from the ground. There are American Coots all over the lakes and sometimes you'll see a loon.

***********************

The forecast is for three to five inches of snow in the next thirty-six hours. I refuse to believe it.

***********************

We spent Saturday afternoon huddled against the freezing wind in the Home Depot gardening department, buying Italian parsley and rosemary and fruitlessly searching for sage and thyme. I came home and split our spider plant into three smaller plants, planning on giving them to my inlaws when we go for a visit this weekend. The plants are everywhere in our house now, their lush greenery making me wish I had a garden of my own. Maybe I'll get an aloe plant, too.

***********************

She is so nice, so wonderful. Yet I get impatient with her each time I talk to her. Everything is a drama, a soap opera, an event. I snapped the last time she nearly broke down into tears over her mother's extended illness. At least you know. You don't have to have dreams about saying goodbye.

***********************

The email comes from out the blue. Thank you. You were great. You made it possible for me to do it. I am probably just as grateful for the email as he was for the class.

***********************

The unspoken remains unspoken. We talk around it. We talk beside it. We stress. He loses more hair, more weight, more confidence. I lose faith, optimism, and whatever starry eyed innocence I once had.

***********************

We will see all six of our nieces and nephews this weekend. I will snap pictures of them. I will play with choo choo trains and quiz about colors and letters. We will read book after book after book and just when I think I'm going to take Pinkalicious and throw her out the playroom window, we will go outside and spin in circles.

Books I Returned to the Library Today

2011-04-07T19:04:00.000-05:00

The Quality of Life Report by Meghan Daum - Yesterday I met with an old friend who was visiting the Twin Cities for lunch and her seven year old son came along with us. He has just started reading chapter books and we were sharing with one another some suggestions for good children's books when he started talking about how he's reading a Hardy Boys book and he can't stand it. I told him he should feel free to stop reading a book if he doesn't like it. He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face and quizzed me about how often I don't finish books. And I told him that I didn't do it a lot, but when I really didn't like a book, I didn't feel too badly about just stopping in the middle because I could be spending that time on a book I did like. He seemed satisfied with my response.

And then I realized I should have stopped reading this book after page four when the narrator was talking about how awful gold jewelry was and I started hating her. It just didn't get better after that. That narrator was an idiot, she made idiotic choices, and I never knew if I was supposed to feel as completely superior to her as I did. I felt bad about myself when I read this book because I hated this make believe woman so very much. I know some folks loved this book, but I just didn't feel it. Thumbs down, way down.

Service Included by Phoebe Damrosch - This was an interesting peek into the world of fine dining, a world I will never be a part of. I heard some chef on NPR talking about some of the things that I read about in this book and I felt like the book did a much better job of explaining some aspects of fine dining to me. I liked it.

Dark Water by Laura McNeal - This is one of those damn books that tells you the ending at the beginning of the book. I guess it's a popular thing in literature these days, but I'm going to yell at those damn kids to stay off my lawn and remain staunchly in the camp that it's a dumb trend. Despite this, I really loved this book. It was creepy and strange and I feel like the character was developed in a weird way, but I loved it. So there you have it. I have no defense for my feelings for this book, but they are strong and they are true, so back off and let me love it.

Rules of the Road by Joan Bauer - I wanted to like this book. I love that the main character is good at something, even if it is something kind of weird and mundane. I love that the main character knows she's good at this and takes advantage of how she's good at it for her benefit and to help other people. But this book just fell flat for me, Newberry Honor book or not. I didn't feel it at all and if that means I'm an evil, soulless woman, then that's what it means. The ending was contrived and unrealistic. The secondary characters were caricatures. The whole thing just sucked. So, another thumbs down.

*********************************

Protector and Redemption by Laurel Dewey - I bought this two books for my Kindle. They involve a female member of law enforcement (first she's a cop, then she's a PI, then she's a cop again - it's all very clear in the novels, but sound confusing as I type it and a couple of high profile cases she's involved with, along with a tale of woe in her personal life. I was momentarily obsessed with these books and I do think they are good, but I no longer feel an overwhelming urge to read the entire Dewey oeuvre. Good reads, though.

SATs, Small Towns, and a Book by Erin McCahan

2011-04-04T07:00:00.001-05:00

There was only one place on the western side of Michigan giving the exam, East Grand Rapids High School, a monstrous suburban prison for high schoolers that took my breath away when my friend Nick and I arrived one spring morning. In retrospect, it wasn't anything special for a rich suburban school district, but it was unlike any school this girl from a tiny school that looked more like a big box store than a place where children should learn all the important things they would need to lead them to lives of joy and importance had ever seen before. Nick's car shuddered to a stop in that parking lot and we both sighed in relief, knowing we were lucky the car had not overheated and exploded on the highway on the way down.

Elizabeth wrote about I Now Pronounce You Someone Else and said that the premise was stupid, so of course I immediately went to the library and checked it out. (Sorry Elizabeth.) And (SPOILER ALERT) the premise was kind of boring and, as Elizabeth said, it would have been better and more interesting if they had gotten married, but honestly, it was like reading about my life 15 years ago, with an engagement broken and talk of small private colleges in Michigan. And I loved it.

I especially loved the setting. The author grew up in western Michigan and everything she wrote reminded me of what I formerly called home. My friend Nick from above, his last name was Vandersomethingelse, just like about a quarter of my high school class and many main characters in the book. Last names of Dykstra and DeVos were common and as I read each name, I would say it underneath my breath and smile. Referring to Lake Michigan as the lake, lazy summer days spent at the beach, and every character ending their sentences with a preposition made me happy.

Obviously, I didn't lead the same life that the whiny main character of this book did. But I want to invite the author over for dinner and talk to her about life on the lake and how much she hates living in Columbus where she currently lives and inevitably has to hear about how great Ohio State, I'm sorry, The Ohio State University is as compared to The University of Michigan when she doesn't really care at all about either school, but suddenly feels an urge to defend her home state as if her life depends on it.

So I don't think you have to read this book. Unless you grew up in the Grand Rapids area and still occasionally go The Grand Rapids Press web site just to hear about what the VanAndels are up to these days, then you might want to read this just for the nostalgia factor.

What We're Watching

2011-03-27T22:19:00.005-05:00

1) The complete seven season series of Gilmore Girls. I "borrowed" the DVDs from my sister (she knows and I know that she will never get them back) back last summer and have been slowly watching them. Right about the third season when Jess enters the scene, the boy started watching the series with me. The series is just as wonderful as I remember it (if you conveniently forget that the character of Rory even exists for the first half of the sixth season when she is the brattiest of the bratty). I still want Lauren Graham to have my babies and I still want Scott Patterson to be my diner owner.

2) The complete series of Firefly. During my husband's recent illness, he broke out these gems and we watched them all and for the next two weeks we went around screaming the lyrics to The Man They Call Jayne out just when we thought the other person had moved on to another song. We're a loving couple that way.

3) The entire, altogether too short, two seasons of Reaper, a show that lived on the CW in 2008-2009. The main character is a slacker guy who finds out on his 21st birthday that his parents sold his soul to the Devil and now our slacker hero must become a bounty hunter for souls who have escaped hell. He has two slacker friends who help him and an on-again, off-again girlfriend who all add to the hilariousness of this show. Really, I just thought the entire show was riotous, right up until about five episodes from the end.

4) The first two episodes of Dexter. I know this is going to be controversial, but we stopped watching Dexter because it was killing us with boredom. I convinced the boy to watch it because everybody was writing about what a great show it was on the internet, David Bianculli was salivating about it on Fresh Air, and I am a sucker. Maybe it was because the boy and I already knew the premise of the show, but it just was kind of yawn inducing for us.

5) The 2007 BBC miniseries Jekyll. We've only watched one episode of this, but I'm totally hooked. It's written as a sequel to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with our main character a modern version of the same character. I think we'll eventually find out that he's the descendant of the original character, but I haven't gotten there yet. The acting is good and I'm intrigued.

When It Rains

2011-03-21T21:12:00.004-05:00

Baby K is struggling. She's doing her best with the walking thing. She's got a walker and tiny little braces for her tiny little legs. There's something very touching about watching her concentrate so hard on getting up to a standing position and then stare at her legs as she tries to get them to move. It's also incredibly hard to watch.

She was in the hospital all weekend. A bad rotavirus dehydrated her and she just couldn't take in enough fluids. Even more sadly, that meant that her long awaited appointment with a specialist had to be postponed.

Meanwhile, there's Baby O. He's a mover and a shaker. Do you know how many of us tried to get him to stand still long enough to take a picture?

He broke his leg this weekend while his dad was cleaning up K after a rotavirus attack and his mom was cooking dinner.

They put him in a splint over the weekend and sent him to get a cast today. As soon as Baby O got home, he started throwing up. Looks like the rotavirus has hit the whole family.

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It's not that I don't have anything to say. It's that the words are stuck inside.

Quest for the Perfect Travel Mug

2011-03-16T12:32:00.005-05:00

Many years ago, my mother-in-law handed us a free travel mug that she had received. She didn't want it since she had a full cupboard of thermos type containers. Apparently it is one of the favored freebies that pharmaceutical companies give to physicians and my father-in-law was forever bringing them home.

I loved that thing. I used it every morning for years. It kept my tea warm for hours. It held approximately a billion ounces of liquid. It survived being dropped over and over again with hardly a scratch. It had a lid that screwed on super tight that never leaked. To drink from it, you simply twisted the lid, a little opening opened, and you drank. It was, as far as I am concerned, the perfect travel mug. And then one day I left it on the bus. I freaked out, tried desperately to find it, and then had to resign myself to the idea that I need to get a new travel mug for my tea in the morning (and afternoon and evening).

The quest for a new thermal mug began with another freebie mug from the in-laws. Unfortunately, the lid leaked and it wasn't well insulated so it didn't keep my tea warm for long at all.

I spent more than I like to admit to buy an actual Thermos Brand Vacuum-Insulated Leak-Proof Travel Mug from a local sporting goods store (see below). It has some really good points. It keeps tea warm for hours. It has also survived its fair share of falls from high distances. It is highly leakproof. However, it holds a mere fourteen ounces. Probably more problematic is that it is really hard to open to take a sip. You need to twist the lid and sometimes the seal is so good that it takes a person with super human strength (or a pair of pliers) to open it. There can be too much of a good thing and in this case, that is the leakproof nature of the mug.

So fine. The Thermos would work, but only in limited situations in which the lid could remain open for the duration of its need. That might work when I am in the car, but it's not going to work for me on my day to day commutes on the bus. Enter the Contigo.

I have been using the Contigo Travel Mug for several months. The boy got it on super special discount at the bike shop where he works part-time. There are some definite pluses to this travel mug. It holds 16 ounces, so slightly more than the Thermos. The folks at Contigo claim that it is leakproof (I'll get back to this in a second). Basically, you screw on the lid after putting in your delicious hot beverage and press the button located on the side to sip and release the button to create the leakproof lock. It doesn't keep the tea as warm for as long as the Thermos, but it will keep it warm for quite some time.

Mostly I like it. It's easy to clean. It's not impossible to unscrew the lid like the Thermos. But. It's not at all leakproof. When I throw that bad boy in my bag, if something hits the button, it leaks. All over everything (papers! books!) in my bag. Okay, fine. Don't put it in your bag then. Fine. If I carry it, along with my purse, my school bag, and the bag I have to carry around for my part-time job, I then must juggle it, and occasionally (or every other day) I will accidentally hit the button while I am attempting to get my bus pass out of my purse and then I will have hot tea all down my skirt for the rest of the day.

So I am still stuck on an odyssey for the perfect travel mug. Please help me.

Fashion Crisis

2011-03-12T10:56:00.000-06:00

It's not that I don't care what I look like when I leave the house. Most days I have on makeup, I have blow dried my hair, I have put on jewelry, including earrings, necklaces, and rings. Most days I have even seriously considered whether or not it is appropriate for a woman of my age to wear tights with random swirls of color all over them and have decided it's completely fine. Most days I have showered, eaten breakfast, and weighed the pros and cons of my footwear choices.

But then there are the other days.

I collapsed on to the couch the other day when I got home in the early evening only to discover that in my haste to put on a cardigan right before I walked out the door, I had failed to notice that the cardigan was inside out. Furthermore, not a single soul mentioned it to me all day long.

I was standing in front of my evening class earlier this week, waxing poetic about process of elimination, when I reached up to scratch at my neck to realize that the tag from the dress I was wearing was right there. Yes, my friends, I had worn my dress backwards. During the break in my class, I ran into the bathroom and fixed it and just hoped that the class didn't notice the change in my neckline. Dr. BB assured me that since I was giving them riveting information in my lecture, it was unlikely that anyone noticed anything strange about my sartorial change up.

Please tell me I'm not the only one to leave the house with strange fashion mistakes.

The Bathroom Floor

2011-02-26T13:11:00.005-06:00

This is our real bathroom floor. I just took this picture and uploaded it all by myself. I'm inordinately proud of this small feat of technological savviness.

When I was fifteen, I woke up one morning bound and determined to go to school even though I had a temperature well over 100, chills, no memory of anything that had happened the day before, and had made it downstairs to the bathroom only by sheer will. I laid down on the bathroom floor and there I stayed until my father came in about a half hour later and asked me what the hell I was doing. The bathroom floor was cracked linoleum, and I was smack in front of the door that led to the basement where the cool air fanned me and convinced me I would be fine as long as I didn't move from that spot.

One summer during college, Bestest Friend and I shared an apartment that had a gag-inducing carpeted bathroom. I dare not imagine all the gross things that had once happened on that carpet. When I imagine that place today, I imagine a new set of hilarious girls living there with the same gross shag carpeting in the bathroom. I remember a good friend spending the night in that bathroom once, spewing Olive Garden tiramisu and some choice beverages, and I often thought she would have been better off doing her hurling outside with the dog shit because that carpet probably made her even more sick every time she caught a break.

The boy was in our bathroom night all Wednesday night. From the comfort of our bedroom, I patted myself on the back for making sure our bathroom floor is always clean. There may be dust bunnies all over the hardwood floor elsewhere in our house, our bed may never be made, and I don't even want to talk about the state of the dust on some of the bookshelves, but the bathroom floor is always clean, just for such occasions. I also stayed awake all night in the comfort of our bedroom because I was incredibly worried, but let's pretend I stayed awake all night giving myself quite a little pep talk on my super housekeeping skills.

The boy has slowly been getting better, hanging out on the recliner in the living room, drinking flat 7Up and Gatorade, while I have been busy hiding away from him for fear the sickness will overtake me, waiting until he is sleeping and refilling his glass, and hiding in the bedroom talking on the phone with Bestest Friend, discussing how best to build a bomb (turns out we don't really know, but I'm confident we could figure it out...maybe), and hoping against hope that this really is just a 24 hour stomach bug.

This morning, I took my stumbling self into the bathroom, but as I got to the doorway, I stood there for a moment. I walked back into the bedroom and spoke loudly because you know how you can't regulate your voice in the morning because you haven't used it all night and you just don't know how loud it's going to be when you speak for the first time in the day? That was going on.

"Did you know there are black tiles on the bathroom floor?"

He just stared at me. "How many times a day do you wipe that floor?"

I guess those black tiles have always been there.

Multifarious and Nefarious Aren't Synonyms

2011-02-22T21:34:00.003-06:00

I can't listen to the Joan Baez CD I found in my dad's car without crying.

When I see a silver Suzuki Vitara, I crane my neck to see if he's driving.

I put the earrings on that he gave me that Christmas before he died and I smile, knowing he'd be pleased that the first coherent thought of the morning was of him.

Dr. BB slams his fist on the table, faking anger, and I nearly jump out of my skin, expecting true anger.

Every day. I think about him. I have so much I want to say to him.

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She's still here, but I don't know what to say when I call.

I put on that bracelet every day, knowing you picked it out just for me.

She sent me a Valentine's Day package and included a note that talked about sex. I was simultaneously horrified and delighted.

Every day. I think about her. I have so much I want to say to her.

The Deep End

2011-02-18T10:45:00.002-06:00

Do you remember that scene from the third season of The Gilmore Girls? The Independence Inn had a fire, it was going to cost a ton of money to fix, and the owners closed it, putting two of our beloved characters out of work. Lorelai, our plucky main character, brings champagne and apple juice over to Sookie, our newly pregnant chef, and Jackson's house and Lorelai proceeds to get S&J excited that something Really Big has happened and then toasts to "new and exciting opportunities." Do you guys remember that? Unemployment = new and exciting opportunities.

So there are a lot of new and exciting opportunities in the NGS/Dr. BB household right now.

We sit down every night and talk about Plan B and Plan C and the (not so) ridiculously farfetched Plan D. We each stay awake at night, long after we have turned off the lights, our brains refusing to rest, wondering what the fuck is happening to our lives right now.

His body is absorbing this stress, I'm sorry, these new and exciting opportunities, and is eating him away from the inside. We have been to the doctors and they tell us the same thing. Men, most of the time, react to stress by losing weight, and boy is his body great at that. My body has taken to absorbing this stress by sitting in my shoulders until I can't move my neck.

It's exhausting, this constant worry and struggle about what is going to happen.

I try, I try so very hard, to live in this moment. We are happy here in this moment. There is peace, there is joy, and there is optimism. It was imperceptible at first, but now I'm noticing that the optimism is fading day by day. The low grade worry is starting to simmer into something more to worry about.

So forgive me my silence here. We're busy working on Plan E right now.

Blog Share

2011-02-10T06:00:00.001-06:00

-R- is at it again, organizing another round of anonymous posts around the internet via a Blog Share. Bloggers write anonymous posts and they get posted on a site not their own. I will include a link of all the participating blogs at the end of the following anonymous post.

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I wish I had a profound topic to discuss for this blog share, but alas, I don’t, so please enjoy a few rants, confessions and random statements that I can’t make exactly make public on my blog. So here goes....

Someone I work with says “prior to” instead of “per” or “according to” and I prefer not to correct them and instead laugh and tell my friends about it. (Example: Prior to this memo...)

My mother-in-law got mad that we didn’t send her a Christmas card. She told my husband in mid-January that we needed to send her a card. Never mind the fact that we didn’t send anyone a card. And that we live close to each other. And that we saw her on Christmas day.

I can finish a whole bottle of wine by myself easier and quicker than I’d like to admit.

When I’m home by myself, I don’t flush the toilet after every pee.

I hate when people discuss politics and religion. Mostly because I don’t personally know enough about those topics to make an informed decision. And neither do most of the people I know who bring up those topics.

I have a hard time thinking of something I’m really good at. Most things I’ve done in life, I would say I’m in the range from decent to above average (high school band, academics). I think cooking could be my thing, if life and work didn’t interfere.

I found out some people I make a lot of money. It’s not the actual amount that is shocking, but the fact that I know they more often than not are late on their utilities and rent, have tons of outstanding debt and have had things repossessed. They borrow money from people (not me). It makes me thankful that my husband and I are responsible with our money, and because of that, we can afford nearly anything we need and want, despite our somewhat expensive habit of frequent meals out.

I love reading mommy blogs and birth stories, despite being nowhere near close to ready to have kids.

My sister-in-law gives the shittiest Christmas presents. I know it’s the thought that counts, and I love a good sale, but I know she didn’t think very hard about getting me those gap pajamas half off (with a coupon??) the day after Thanksgiving. Or about getting the hubby an as seen on tv money clip.

Anything you'd like to share?

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A list of other blogs participating, each with an anonymous post to share:

The Time for Change
Bright Yellow World
Reflections in the Snow-Covered Hills
Totally Serial
Daily Tannenbaum
Andrea Unplugged
Malfeasance
From Kim's Desk
Rediscovering Me
Mama Bub
Being Five
Nothing Is Easier Than Self-Deceit
Molly's Musings
Heidikins
Snarke
Did I Say That Outloud?
The Reluctant Grownup
And You Know What Else
Bwildered
Thinking Some More

Things I'm Loving

2011-02-08T22:16:00.000-06:00

1) The song "What I'd Say" by Earl Thomas Conley. Whenever I have to drive somewhere, I just put this song on and keep listening to it over and over and over again. It's the "Undo It" of January and February.

2) The board game Pandemic. It's a cooperative that you can play with two people. We have played it approximately a million times (we used to go for walks around the lake in our free evenings, now it's too bloody cold to go outside, so we play this instead). It's never old and always fabulous. The idea is to save the world from outbreaks of various diseases. You work together to defeat the game. It took us three or four rounds of the game before we really understood how to strategize, but now we are addicted.

3) My new spectacles. You guys might not know this about me, but I have an incredibly small head and small features. Most eyeglasses completely overwhelm my face. Enter the company Bevel, with their awesome selection of eyewear. I hesitate to admit how much I paid for this pair of glasses, but they fit, are comfortable, and are awesome. My last pair was also Bevel and when I tried on glasses at my place, Specs Optical, the really cool lady helping me showed me approximately a dozen great frames, all of which fit and were my style, but in the end, I went with Bevel again because it is the company for me. Bevel did not pay me to say any of this, but if they'd like to, I would not turn them away!

4) Gilmore Girls season 3. What? You aren't watching Gilmore Girls on DVD when your husband leaves the house? For shame.

5) The book Just Listen by Sarah Dessen. I just can't read this book enough. It's so good. I think I've read it half a dozen times and I'm going to keep reading it until Owen somehow materializes into a real teenager in front of me.

Books I Read in January

2011-02-03T21:28:00.002-06:00

Please keep in mind that school didn't start until late in January and I was in Michigan for a good chunk of it, so I had lots and lots (and lots and lots) of time to read.

Shatter (The Children of Man) by Elizabeth C. Mock - Free fantasy download for my Kindle. This was a perfectly palatable novel and I enjoyed it while I was reading it, but I don't feel at all tempted to purchase any more novels from the series.

Watchlist edited by Jeffrey Deaver - So this is an interesting idea. It's a thriller novel with each chapter written by a different author. And. Um. It was fine. Not particularly brilliant, but I kind of like how disorienting it was when the tone would change with each chapter. It kept me on my toes. Again, it was a free download. I'm not sure I would have paid for it.

Don't Die, Dragonfly by Linda Joy Singleton and Danger in the Shadows by Dee Henderson - More free downloads! I think there were a lot of free books in January to try and attract all those new Christmas gift receiving Kindle owners into buying more novels. Unfortunately, I remember absolutely nothing about either of these books, so I'm going to go ahead and say there were probably fine, but obviously not memorable.

The Justice Game by Randy Singer - This was a fascinating little read about a fictional court case revolving around gun laws. It did a great job of explaining some of the intricacies of case law. I found it to be really revelatory and I appreciate that I still don't know the author's opinion on the whole thing. Just really good. (Also: free download.)

The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde - I loved this. It's a strange world in which Thursday Next lives and that's all I can really say. I just loved it and want to read all the rest of the Thursday Next books, but I'm afraid they won't be as good, so somebody who has read more than the first one needs to give me a thumbs up or a thumbs down. (Yes, fine, I paid for this one.)

En Route: A Paramedic's Stories of Life, Death, and Everything in Between by Steven "Kelly" Grayson and Unbillable Hours: A True Story by Ian Graham - (Free!) Do you want to read memoirs from bitter men who hated their jobs? Then read these. If you prefer your world cheerier and less anguished, just ignore the temptation of reading these. Free or not.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot - So this was on everybody's list of must reads from 2010. I heard Skloot on NPR about half a dozen times before I was finally convinced that it was worth my time. And it totally was. I have some beefs with the book (mostly chronologically - she nearly killed me with the back and forth and back and forth in time), but it was worth it. I'm fascinated by the fact that this story, so big, so huge, is so unknown. I'm even more fascinated by the complications of it all. I started off my undergrad class this semester by explaining how everything involving human beings is complicated and I used the idea of HeLa cells to talk about what I meant by complicated. There's a reason it was on all those lists.

Always the Baker, Never the Bride by Sandra D. Bricker - (Free!) Perfectly serviceable chick lit. I read this on the flight back from Michigan and it served its duty of rendering me unable to remember takeoff, landing, or anything in between.

Deadly Sanctuary by Sylvia Nobel - (Free!) I don't remember this book. That can't be good.

Tough Customer by Sandra Brown - You can't go wrong with Brown. I love the main character in this book (a character from a previous book) and so I will continue with my Sandra Brown, trashy novel loving ways.

Dog on It and Thereby Hangs a Tail by Spencer Quinn - Detective novels told from the perspective of the detective's dog. That's all you need to know about these books. Apparently (according to my husband) this is a trite premise (he reminds me every day that I need to read Call of the Wild, but I gotta say, I just don't see it happening), but I'd never read a book told in this perspective and it's freaking hilarious and awesome and I love Spencer Quinn. I'm currently reading To Fetch a Thief, the third book in the Bernie and Chet series and I'm enjoying it. More when I finish it.

Lives in the Balance e: Nurses' Stories from the ICU edited by Tilda Shalof - (Free!) zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...This almost bored me to death. It's a series of short essays written by ICU nurses and it should be sexy and interesting and instead it read like a series of poorly written blog entries. No.

Septimus Heap Books One, Two, and Three by Angie Sage - The first book was free and I paid for the next two. The first two books were delightful and I loved every single bloody word. And the third book almost killed me with boredom. So. I think I'm quite finished with Septimus Heap, although I've heard the audiobooks are superbly well done, so if I'm ever going on a long car trip by myself, I will likely download them from the library. (Dr. BB doesn't like to listen to books on tape and on long car trips with him, I wonder why we I allowed myself to be married to a man such as that.)

Any book recommendations for me?

SOTU - Two Days Later

2011-01-27T12:27:00.003-06:00

You know, I really like Obama. I kind of want to hang out with the Obamas at the White House and have a nice meal of burgers and fries with them, sneaking an occasional tidbit to Bo now and then. This, what is about to happen, is not a personal grudge.

But I was annoyed by his State of the Union address. Annoyed because he seems to have forgotten that there are reasonable adults in this country who are intelligent and will refuse to fall into jingoistic nonsense. Once upon a time, candidate Obama had bold, brash ideas. Now he tows the ideologically neutral line, mentioning only things we should be able to agree on, and pisses me off.

“Our troops come from every corner of this country – they are black, white, Latino, Asian and Native American. They are Christian and Hindu, Jewish and Muslim. And, yes, we know that some of them are gay. Starting this year, no American will be forbidden from serving the country they love because of who they love.“

I’m relieved, seriously I am, that the rights of our gay and lesbian citizens are starting to be recognized, albeit in small steps and not fully and completely. But what about people who are not part of those mainstream religions? The Taoists, the atheists, the agnostics, Native American religions, pagans, and all the rest? Do they not deserve to be part of the military? Are we going to take away citizenship rights one by one because someone's religion doesn't match the mainstream religion?

“We may have differences in policy, but we all believe in the rights enshrined in our Constitution. We may have different opinions, but we believe in the same promise that says this is a place where you can make it if you try. We may have different backgrounds, but we believe in the same dream that says this is a country where anything's possible. No matter who you are. No matter where you come from.”

If there was a place in the speech where I felt it was most appropriate for someone to yell “you lie,” I really feel like that place was here. We don’t agree about the rights enshrined in our Constitution. The old Obama, candidate Obama, the one who I voted for, he would have not made this oversimplifying, pandering statement. The fact that my father and I could not have a reasonable discussion about what “freedom of religion” and “right to bear arms” indicates that to me as fully as the vitriol spouted off on Fox News and CNN every night. Ever try to explain the electoral college to someone? The rights that we all agree on? We really don't agree on at all. Frankly, I know a great number of people who disagree about the legitimacy of the document itself.

I, for one, do not believe that for every child born in this country, anything’s possible. I hate it when we spout this lie to our children. Our children should be able to trust the adults in our lives, and to lie like this takes away that trust. My niece, the one who cannot walk without assistance, she is not going to be a firefighter. She is not physically capable of it. The teenage boy in my high school class who could not read or write, he is not going to become the next Supreme Court justice. He is not mentally capable of it. The boy who lives in poverty, surrounded by abuse and little hope, he's not going to grow up and be a millionaire. Why do we lie? If you work hard, sometimes, you get nothing. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try, but it doesn’t mean you will always succeed.

“And yet, as contentious and frustrating and messy as our democracy can sometimes be, I know there isn't a person here who would trade places with any other nation on Earth.”

I don’t know. Canada doesn’t seem so bad. I’d trade for a Scandinavian citizenship pretty quickly. The United States is a fine place, maybe even a great place, and I enjoy a lot of the perks of a U. S. citizenship, but there are other great places on Earth.

Obama finished up with a traditional political blessing for god to bless us and this country. You know what, Obama? I don’t believe in your god. I don’t believe in entrusting my future to a nonexistent deity. I get that you do. I’m really happy for you. But in this country, I wish you would understand that we are diverse in not only race, gender, and sexual preference, but also religion.

I voted for Obama after a great deal of soul searching. But I’m tired. I’m tired of being marginalized. I’m tired of politicians talking down to me. I’m tired of trite rhetoric about what a great nation this is. I want candidate Obama back, the one who talked about race, who talked to high schoolers about the realities of their lives, the one who was inclusive. I had so many hopes for that speech on Tuesday night. But my hopes were dashed and replaced with resignation and sadness.

Why Here? Why There?

2011-01-24T15:04:00.003-06:00

The DJ slides in between Carrie Underwood and Jared and the Long Road to Love to let us know that the high today is going to be a balmy zero degrees with mostly sunny skies. Of course it is. It's Minneapolis in January. Our cars are all coated in a thick layer of salt, indistinguishable white/gray sedans next to indistinguishable white/gray SUVs. With every gas tank refill we put in another bottle of windshield washer fluid. Long underwear no longer hides in the back of the closet, but is a staple of every day wear. Every other morning a fresh layer of snow falls upon our huge snowdrifts and the bright sun reflecting off the white, white snow blinds us as we frantically try to clear the snow off our cars, porches, and sidewalks. Those new sunglasses better be polarized or you'll spend the whole day squinting. Once you do put on your sunglasses, you'll be annoyed because the earpieces will painfully dig behind your ears as soon as you put on your fleece-lined hat.

But there are so many things I'd never done until I moved here.

I'd never ice skated outside.
I'd never snowmobiled to the middle of a lake and hopped off the snowmobile to walk around.
I'd never gotten my car stuck over and over again attempting to drive around the block.
I'd never had perfect strangers help me unstick my car over and over again.
I'd never pushed a stranger's car out of the snow over and over again.
I'd never walked around a lake lit by luminaries in the middle of the winter.
I'd never driven a snow covered road without a knot in my stomach and terror in my heart.
I'd never made snow angels in the front yard with the man I love.
I'd never stored food on the front porch because it was just as good as being in the freezer.

People ask me all the time why I still live here. Sometimes I ask myself that, too, especially in January and February. But the truth is I live here because I love it here.

Six months ago

2011-01-17T17:41:00.001-06:00

Just over six months since I wrote this, describing how my experiences teaching at a performing arts high school left me emotional and physically drained. I walked out of that building, got into Monster, and turned off the radio, and didn't turn it on again until we purchased Agnes in December.

I would sit at home, stare vacantly, and listen to the sound of silence. No screaming guitar plugged into the loudest amplifier in the universe in the hall, no pattering of feet as ballet dancers step down the hall, no monologues told at the top of voices, no voices singing a Led Zeppelin song accompanied only by a tambourine. No one screamed my name, no annoying pinging when yet another unanswerable email arrived in my inbox, just silence.

I've only recently started listening to music again, to adding noise to my life.

Saturday night we went to a belated holiday party at the local bike shop where my husband works and amid the music pumping through the sound system, the balloons popping, the babies screaming, drunk bike mechanics screaming in agony as they wiped out during tricycle races, and dogs barking, I laughed and danced and never even once questioned the volume.

This afternoon, as I put the finishing touches on my syllabus I listened to my Pandora station and enjoyed every second of it.

Let the music back in.

The Quiet Place

2011-01-15T12:31:00.002-06:00

It's quiet there. We retreat there when the time between appointments is long and we have no place else to go. There's art on the walls, couches to sprawl out on, and although there are no posted signs with admonitions or warnings, everyone speaks in a whisper when they walk in.

He has an autoimmune disorder. We make jokes and laugh about it, because that's the only way we know how to deal with it.

For the day long doctors' appointments, I pack books, games, snacks, a cooler of drinks, a list of questions, and my anxiety. We walk back and forth, always grateful that we are not the young couple sobbing quietly in corner, the old, worn woman pushing the bald child in the wheelchair, or the man who must rest heavily on his cane after each step.

We call the quiet place base camp. For the tests that they won't let me stay by his side, we separate with the promise to meet at base camp at thirteen hundred hours. While he is gone, I compulsively check my phone to make sure he hasn't called while I pace and bite the inside of my cheeks raw.

The outcome of the tests was good. The weight is coming back. The exhaustion and inability to sleep has gone away. It was a bump in the road that we've motored on past. Hopefully we will not have to see base camp again.

$146.79 - Why We Spent That Much on Groceries This Week

2011-01-10T12:00:00.000-06:00

$146.79 - That is what we spent at the grocery store on Friday night. That doesn't include the $5.99 we spent at an alternate grocery store buying edible gluten-free bread.

Here is our dinner plan for the week:
Saturday: Meatloaf, baked potatoes, broccoli
Sunday: Leftover meatloaf, baked potatoes, broccoli
Monday: Broccoli and goat cheese frittata with Bisquick biscuits
Tuesday: Vegetarian lasagna
Wednesday: Leftover lasagna
Thursday: Chili
Friday: Chili

Here is our lunch plan for the week:
The boy will bring with him an apple, a sandwich OR a block of cheese and some summer sausage to eat with Nut Thins, nuts, pretzels, Lara bars on his extra long days.
I will eat a piece of fruit, a yogurt, and some sort of protein (cheese, peanut butter, or leftovers from the day before are common).

Here is our breakfast plan for the week:
The boy will eat two of the following three items - Jones sausage links, two eggs, two pieces of toast with a cup of tea and a glass of milk.
I will eat fruit and two mini bagels with peanut butter.

Here's the breakdown of what we spent:
12 pack of Mug root beer: $4.29 (for the boy, not me - empty calories through beverages makes me sad, but he's on a 3000 calorie a day diet, so he takes calories where he can get them)
Gluten-free Bisquick: $3.99
Newman's Own Sausage pasta sauce: $2.89
Hunt's crushed tomatoes: $2.09
Ruffles potato chips: $3.99 (fine, this was for me, but it was playoffs this weekend - a girl is entitled to snack food once a week, damn it)
Blue Diamond almonds: $3.69
Amy's cream of tomato soup (one can): $3.29 (for the chili - not to eat plain because canned soup is the absolutely in disgusting)
Thomas cinnamon raisin mini bagels: $2.99
Chipped walnuts: $3.99
Celestial Seasonings green tea with honey, lemon, and ginseng: $3.19
Strawberry preserves: $4.79
Kitchen Basics chicken stock: $3.15
Kitchen Basics beef stock: $3.05
Kemp's vanilla ice cream: $3.00 (him, not me, of course)
Goat cheese: $4.49
Jone's mild breakfast sausage links x 2: $5.18
Old Wisconsin summer sausage: $6.49
3 pounds ground beef: $9.42
1 pound ground chuck x 2: $4.21/each
Lara cinnamon roll bar: $1.69
Lara cherry pie bar: $1.69
Nature's Bounty Fish Oil pills 1200 MG x2: $15.49 total
Lemon: $0.50
Broccoli: $2.49
Zucchini: $0.44
Idaho potatoes x4: $2.55
Portabella mushroom: $1.21
Onion: $1.28
Garlic: $0.39
Red pepper: $1.05
Italian parsley (improperly rung up on our receipt as cilantro): $0.59
5 pounds clementines: $5.00
Unsalted butter: $3.49
Whole milk: $2.49
1 dozen large eggs: $1.69
Dean's onion dip: $1.99 (but I had a coupon so it was really free)
Jello pudding snacks: $2.50
Yoplait yogurt x9: $0.69 each
Something labeled farm cheese (hmmm...not even sure what that is): $2.69
Cheese sticks: $3.75
2 blocks of sharp cheddar: $2.90 each
Glad cling wrap: $2.90
Charmin toilet paper: $3.39 (if you even dare to suggest we should use one-ply, I will politely ask you to leave my blog)

Could we save money? Sure. I could clip coupons. Frankly, we could have bought a carbonated soft drink that was on sale. We could do more sale shopping. We could buy more generic labels. If I didn't include the brand name, we bought our local generic version. But we don't. Here's why.

1) Most of the items on the above list are gluten-free, with the one except of the mini bagels that I eat for breakfast and are kept in a separate breadbox on top of the fridge, away from any other grocery item. We're not going to get the Ragu/Prego/what's on sale, but we trust that the brand we use will be safe every time for my husband and Newman's Own has the benefits of no high fructose corn syrup in it.

2) I value my time. Attempting to look up coupons for the following items: Amy's tomato soup, Glad cling wrap, Old Wisconsin summer sausage, Yoplait, Dean's dip, and the Bisquick took me ten minutes and netted me only a $1.99 coupon for Dean's dip. I'm pretty sure that's not worth it.

3) We refuse to sacrifice on food. We have talked our budgetary priorities to death in the NGS/Dr. BB household. The truth is that food is important to us. No, we're not the most healthy eaters in the world, but we are careful about what we eat, we meal plan, and each item on the list is carefully thought out and researched.

4) I don't know that we are spending that much. Normally our budget is about $100-$125 dollars a week. This week we spent more than that, but even so, we are feeding each adult in our household on $75 a week. Is that too much? Is that a lot?

5) There are some things that are worth spending money on. I believe that Glad works better than the generic cling wrap, so we spend the extra fifty cents. Kitchen Basics stock is way more expensive than Swanson's, but it's gluten free AND tastes hella better. So, there you have it.

Year in Review

2011-01-07T20:52:00.003-06:00

I answered these questions for 2009 and 2008, so I thought I'd keep the tradition alive.

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before? Bought a car. We named her Agnes.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I was more mindful of my health last year and I intend to keep up with that. I'm also pretty determined to lose these pesky 10 pounds.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? No. But don't worry. My sister-in-law is due to have her baby any day now. I'm already stockpiling the gifts!

4. Did anyone close to you die? My dad died in June. That was a pretty crappy way to start the summer, I must say.

5. What countries did you visit? Ummm...well, I stuck close to home again this year with no stamps in my passport again.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010? An tenure track position for my husband in a department where he will enjoy the students, his work, and his co-workers.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? The day my father died and the day my husband defended his dissertation. June was a big month, yo.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Not murderizing anyone in my family when I had to see them all.

9. What was your biggest failure? I have slacked on a lot of things this year - writing letters, returning personal phone calls, and sending out birthday cards. I intend to rectify all of the above this year. I just want people I love to know I'm thinking about them. Even a simple card that takes five minutes to send out accomplishes this and I feel kind of guilty when I think about how often I chose to do something other than take that five minutes to do that.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nope. And, my husband and I just got back from Mayo tonight and the doctor told us there is "nothing to worry about" with his health. There are a few modifications in diet we need to make (sigh), but he's just as fine as I am!

11. What was the best thing you bought? Agnes.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My mother who has handled my dad's death with far more grace and good humor than I would have ever predicted.

My sister-in-law, the one who has two twenty-month old twins who were born prematurely, who manages to be a great mama to two awesome babies while maintaining some semblance of a professional life AND send out thank you cards for gifts, is someone I greatly admire. I should probably tell her that to her face instead of assuming she knows it.

Also, my sister-in-law, the physician, who calms me down repeatedly when there is no one else I can talk to about how scared I am when my husband is sick. She is funny, compassionate, and I am so lucky I am related to her.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? The Israelis that attacked that aid ship bound for Gaza, the people who voted for Christine O'Donnell or Michele Bachmann, people who protested about the signing of the health care law, the oil companies and the captured oversight agencies that allowed the Gulf Coast oil spill to happen, and countless other newsmakers who forced me to grit my teeth and turn off NPR before my blood pressure caused a bloody nose (I may or not be referring to the former governor of Alaska right now...)

14. Where did most of your money go? Rent, food.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? The trip to NYC with Bestest Friend and the trip to the beach with my sister, aunt, and cousins.

16. What song will always remind you of 2010? "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry because it was my sister's cell phone ring every time her phone rang while we were at the beach together and "Yankee Sailor" by Great Big Sea because that is totally the best song on their new CD.

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

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Spent more time in Michigan with my mom and sister.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Spent less time in Michigan with my mom and sister. Ha ha! I'm so mysterious.

20. How did you spend Christmas? At my in-laws'. Our nieces and nephews were hilarious with the present opening this year.

21. Did you fall in love in 2010? Oh, blech. You can tell I'm no longer officially a newlywed because I can't take this question seriously. I love my husband. I love him dearly. But really? I love our car a lot. Go Agnes!

22. What was your favorite TV program? Sunday Night Football. There's something about the ritual of a Sunday night game that just strikes a chord with me (even when it is Eagles versus Cowboys and the whole time you're wondering if it's possible for BOTH teams to lose).

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? I don't think so. I'm much more mellow this year than in the past.

24. What was the best book you read? The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart, Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block, The Magicians by Lev Grossman, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, Water for Elephants: A Novel by Sara Gruen, Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli. You can't make me pick just one.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? I think I'm all played with musical discoveries. I need to listen to Pandora more to learn more about new artists, I think.

26. What did you want and get? A sedan! Monster was reliable and I don't want to speak ill of him, but having a trunk and a back seat is life altering.

27. What did you want and not get? Eh. A job for me. A job for him. It will all work out in the end.

28. What was your favorite film of this year? Toy Story 3, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I was in North Carolina with my family and my aunt took us out to eat; I was 31.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? A pet.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010? Purple shoes.

32. What kept you sane? Knowing that at the end of the day, I would get into bed next to my husband and the rest of the world would go away for a few precious hours.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? The Radio Lab guys, Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich. Wait? Are they even famous to anyone else?

34. What political issue stirred you the most? The silliness of Tea Party supporters who haven't even read the U. S. Constitution while they slammed others for not respected it. Grrr.

35. Who did you miss? My dad. My Uncle Lenny. My friends who love far away. My mom. My sister. My nieces and nephews who see us all too little. I even kind of miss Monster. I hope he's with a family who loves him.

36. Who was the best new person you met? Dudes, I have a new friend here in the Twin Cities!! Her name is Molly and it's a new friendship, but I hope it lasts.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010. When you end a conversation with your father, thinking, "hey, that was really fun - dad's pretty hilarious sometimes," it's going to be your last conversation, so make sure to tell him that you love him.

On My Kindle

2010-12-28T18:43:00.006-06:00

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver - So this is basically a reworking of Groundhog Day. A mean girl dies and then has to relive her last day alive over and over again. It's tough to write an interesting novel with a despicable main character, but that's what's done here. Samantha is pretty awful and her transformation is relatively unbelievable, but it's the secondary cast of characters who make this novel - her friends, her family, and that mysterious girl who plays a pivotal role at the end.

Some Girls: My Life in a Harem by Jillian Lauren - I wrote about this book already, so I won't bore you by repeating myself, but this book pissed me off. I want motivation and instead I get a giant void where explanations and desires should be.

The Eight by Katherine Neville - Actually, I got this from the library. It's not available on the Kindle. I read about half of this 624 page book before I just gave up and returned it. It was plodding, dreary, and I'm pretty sure some of the plot points would have come together if I had endeavored to finish it, but I didn't. If you love this book, good on you. I'm going to stick with Dan Brown for my badly written plot driven books.

Finnikin of the Rock by Melina Marchetta - This book gets four and a half stars on amazon, which is the virtual equivalent of a standing ovation. However, I'm going to go ahead and admit (much to Elizabeth's chagrin) that I would be the person who clapped once for this book and then stared at my hands and picked the lint off my pants while everyone else finished clapping. Character development: nil. Suspense: nil. Number of times I had to flip to a map to see what the hell was going on: approximate six million. I can't recommend this book. This was the third time I've tried to read this book and the first time I've made it through. I now know why I've given up on it in the past.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak - Haunting, beautiful, and brilliant. I loved this. Please read this book and tell me you love it too.

The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan - I was so excited to see that part of this book was told from the perspective of a female character. I was getting a little tired of Percy Jackson and this book is an awesome way to bridge the Percy Jackson series to a new crew. Love!

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott - I remember reading this book when I was young and loving it. But now as I read it I am horrified that my parents let me read such pretentious, sanctimonious bullshit! I'm pretty sure I can't read any more Alcott.

Soul Identity by Dennis Batchelder - This was a free download and it was a fun and funny concept. I enjoyed this bit of fluff.

Easily Amused by Karen McQuestion - McQuestion is one of amazon's writers and I like her a lot. This book was fine. She has traditionally written young adult books and this was a foray into romance/chick lit. Eh. Maybe she should stick to young adult work? I mean, this is perfectly acceptable, but there's no fire here in this novel.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins - Really, this is what The Hunger Games led to? I was disappointed, but I take it that I may be in the minority here. However, I was disappointed by the last book in the Harry Potter series at first, but upon rereading (and rereading and rereading) I have grown to believe it may be my favorite HP book, so maybe I'll have to give this book another shot down the road.

Water for Elephants: A Novel by Sara Gruen - I loved this book. Seriously loved it. That is all.

What have you been reading recently? What should I put on my Kindle for my travels in the next couple of weeks?

$18

2010-12-21T09:12:00.003-06:00

He was an old man. His white beard fell just below his chin, the lines around his eyes were deep, and as he paced back and forth on the curb, his limp was pronounced. Everyone else kept their eyes averted, looking anywhere but at him. He stopped walking and I read the sign he was holding: Please Share.

I liked it. It wasn't a lie; there was no request for funds to travel to see a dying relative, no plea for money for food or to buy clothes for a "new job", and no excuse for the panhandling, but a simple appeal. It's that time of year, right? Peace, love, and understanding.

I looked around. My brand new car, still less than 100 miles on it, my nice warm winter jacket, coming from a part-time job that pays me far more than I'm worth, and I was suddenly worried, ashamed, and disgusted. What kind of world allows the distribution of wealth to be so varied that I can sit there without a care in the world, while this man begs for coins in below freezing weather? Even if that man is not homeless, even if he has chosen to make it his full-time job, as many of our city's panhandler's do, even then, what kind of world is it that forces him to choose that as his job?

In my wallet, I had $18 - a $10 bill, a $5 bill, and 3 $1 bills. I had earmarked the $10 for a treat for myself on my next (hopefully last) trip to the Mall of America (a crepe and an Icee, if you must know specifics). The 3 $1 bills were for this type of situation exactly - people asking for money for the bus, Salvation Army bell ringers, and street people asking for money. The $5 is there because I like to have $5 in my pocket.

I took out my wallet and stared at the contents. I rolled down my window. The old man hobbled over to me. His eyes were cross-eyed and he smelled like liquor. I slowly closed my eyes and counted to three. I held out the $10 bill to him. Have a nice holiday, I said to him as I closed the window, the light changed to green, and I drove away.

I don't know what he'll do with that money and I guess I don't care. It didn't help to alleviate my guilt or shame. It didn't help to put me in the holiday spirit. I just hope it helped that guy make it through one more night.

NGS's Christmas Card Rules

2010-12-14T16:43:00.000-06:00

1) I despise photo cards with lame generic "Happy Holidays from the Smiths" on them. Handwriting is essential to cards. I'll even take it as handwriting if you merely sign your name to the photo card, although of course I strongly prefer some snarky comment or inside joke written specifically for me. You can have typed address labels, but the only demand is some sort of handwriting.

2) Including only photos of your children. For the most part, I don't know/like/care about your children. Don't take it personally, but I'm interested in only the adults for about 75% of the holiday cards I receive. If it's a picture of your newborn infant I've never met, it's going straight into the recycling. If it's a picture of your family as a whole, I'll coo over how wonderful it is to see a happy family and it's definitely going to go on the fridge. From there, it will go to the photo album.

3) If you put confetti or glitter inside the envelope, I will be most unhappy with you. One of my aunts does this and I open her card over the trash can, read the generic lame greeting, and then toss it into the garbage.

4) While I don't mind a seasonal picture, I prefer a photo I can keep on the fridge year round. I have trouble justifying a picture of the kids on Santa's lap on my fridge after January 15. If, however, you send me a snapshot from your vacation to Idaho, I can keep that up on my fridge until you send me a more updated picture (probably next Christmas).

5) If you handwrite a newsletter, awesome (see #1 above). If you send out a typed newsletter, it better be awesomely sarcastic or some really big events better have happened to you to warrant it. Any bragging about promotions, how smart your kid is, or how your fiancee vomited blood in a major way, is totally not going to be okay with me.

6) Know your audience. My aunt, the same one with the confetti, sends us holiday cards every year with some variation of Jesus our savior is born on the front. Whatever. Save me from your uber religion and give me a reindeer. She also addresses the cards to Mr. and Mrs. BB and NGS BB's Last Name. First up. My husband is a doctor. Second up. I did not take his last name. I seethe every year. (The address and the confetti do me in every year.) I usually get a variety pack of cards at the end of Christmas sales every year with Hanukkah, Christmas, Season's Greetings cards and just send to the appropriate people. If I don't know which one to send them, I figure I probably shouldn't be sending!

7) If someone never reciprocates cards, I assume no interest and stop sending them cards. It make actually take two or three years before I kick you off my list, but I will get there eventually. I have an exception or two for a few friends who I know are adamantly opposed to sending cards (although the enjoy receiving them) and I don't have a database or anything (although that sounds like an excellent idea), but I do try and keep track of non-reciprocating folks.

8) So this list sounds harsh. I love receiving and getting cards. Even if you break some of these rules, you should still send them. It's always nice to be thought of, even if it is by some crabby aunt who tries to fill my apartment with glittery confetti and gets my name wrong.

Soul Sold, Winter Fun, and General Awesomeness

2010-12-11T19:28:00.003-06:00

This is our new Hyundai Elantra. Try not to be jealous of us attempting to dig her out of the snow tomorrow morning. It's going to be...something.

In case you haven't seen enough pictures of the Blizzard of 2010, here's ours. I love the snow blowing at the camera. You should have heard the boy screaming about Getting. The. Camera. Inside. Now. Stop. Taking. Pictures. Now. Dumbass. It was like listening to someone read a telegraph.

Our Little Slice of Christmas

2010-12-05T14:57:00.002-06:00

The ribbon we use on our tree is the same ribbon we used on our wedding invitations. When I put it on the tree, it makes feel incredibly grateful to be married to a man who thinks this little ritual is just as important as I do. It's only a little tree because we aren't really in our apartment for Christmas proper. But for the next two and a half weeks, this is going to remind me to be happy for the holidays, happy for the time we have together, and happy that the snow chose Friday afternoon to come down in eight glorious inches so I could have all weekend to enjoy it.

It's just that he's lost so much weight that I look like a human elephant here. But regardless, we were so pleased with our tree that we couldn't resist cheesy Vanna White poses with it.

It's not much, but it's all ours.

My Soul is Worth $4000, Visibility, and Cup Holders in the Back

2010-12-01T17:00:00.004-06:00

The car shopping (I should call it car looking) is, well, it is what it is. We walk into dealerships, the car salesmen joke about how slimy they should be, both reinforcing the stereotype and making me feel dirty, we drive the smallest cars on the lot, we joke about how every car is totally better than the vehicle we are currently driving, and then we get in that same vehicle and drive home. At home we look up specs and APR rates and stare at each other.

So we want a relatively high MPG, high reliability, safety especially in wintery conditions, cruise control, and, you know, warm feet. We don't need or especially want power windows, power locks, a sunroof, a car that talks to us, leather seats, seat warmers, or anything else that costs $500 to repair when it inevitably breaks down.

We looked at the Hyundai Elantra (a decent car at an exceptionally decent price made in Korea). We looked at the Honda Fit and the Honda Civic (the Fit was fun, but loud and the visibility in both cars was next to zero). We looked at the Ford Focus and Ford Fiesta (the Focus has a great rebate right now, the Fiesta not so much, both are made in Mexico).

So our finalists appear to be a 2010 Elantra or a 2011 Focus. Either way, the part of me that was raised in Michigan and knows about the impact of the auto industry on day to day life in that part of the country is dying. The Honda cars are made in the United States, but they are kind of crappy and cost about $4000-5000 more. That's a difference that makes a difference to people like us.

I guess I know how much I can be bought for now.

Does Anyone in America Agree With Me?

2010-11-30T19:28:00.000-06:00

I have a few confessions to make.

I liked the new Harry Potter movie. I really did. Maybe more than any of the other movies. It's a movie made for fans. My husband has not read the books and he had like a billion questions at the end of the movie because he just didn't get many of the important plot points. I like that. He should have to read the books.

I recently read Some Girls: My Life in a Harem by Jillian Lauren and I know I shouldn't do it, but I got really pissed off, yet again, by reading a book in which the narrator does something morally repugnant to me and I desperately attempt to find the motivation of why a sweet suburban child ends up as a sex worker/drug addict/general asshole (see Candy Girl and Orange is the New Black) and the motivation is nowhere to be found and then I get pissed. I'm always really interested in the logistics of becoming a sex worker, but I think I have to stop reading this genre of literature because it's driving me insane.

Today I had an entire two hours to myself, alone in our apartment, and I did not work out, as I probably should have. Instead I played Word Bubbles and reread a trashy J. D. Robb novel. While I was reading, I was halfheartedly coming up with plot ideas for new books that would enliven the series, including having a book written from Roarke's point of view, killing Roarke (it's a dream of mine - I really kind of hate that character), and sending Roarke off planet for an entire novel so Eve actually has to solve a case on her own like in the good old days of the series. Anyone in the Robb camp listening to me? I'm giving you ideas here for free!!

It was below zero today and I still haven't taken my winter coat out of storage. Since tomorrow it will officially be December, maybe I should get my lazy ass down to the storage unit to do so.

Freak Outs and Freaks Ins

2010-11-27T22:13:00.003-06:00

Several Thanksgiving Days ago, I broke the toilet in the upstairs bathroom at my future inlaws' house. I crept down the stairs, whispered into my now husband's ear that THERE WAS AN EMERGENCY upstairs. I'm not sure, exactly, what he thought it was that was THE EMERGENCY, but he promptly went upstairs and as I told him the story, he laughed, told me he could fix it, and sent me back downstairs so people wouldn't think we were engaging in hanky panky on the upper level of the house. Long story short(er) he couldn't fix it, my future FIL was called in, a part needed to be procured from Menards ON THANKSGIVING DAY, and I was forever the girl who broke the toilet on Thanksgiving until I was the girl who didn't invite children to her wedding until I was the girl who was Baby O's godmother.

Then on Thursday I became the girl who broke the chair when she came back to the table with a second plate of deliciousness.

I'm never going to Iowa again for Thanksgiving.

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I woke up Thursday night in a panic, screaming. The boy managed to calm me down before I woke up the neighborhood, but here's the deal, there's too much going on right now. I handle it fine when I'm awake and I can joke the shadows away, but the way things are going right now, it will be a small miracle if I have a nightmare free night before next June. And then things will inevitably take another turn for the ridiculous.

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I don't talk much about my husband's health here. It's not my story to tell. But the variety of diagnoses and medicines the poor man deals with on a daily basis are enough to make any sane person's head spin.

In early 2009, we went to the Mayo Clinic for some workups on my husband. The news that came out of it was not great, but not awful. But now everything is wrong. He is a walking skeleton, a bundle of nerves, and his immune system is not serving him well. He tells me not to worry. He tells me that he will deal with this, as he has dealt with it in the past.

I am scared.

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My sister-in-law and brother-in-law really want a baby. They have their names down on lists for several adoption agencies. She is on all kinds of fertility drugs. The fertility drugs are not interacting well with her diabetes medications and her insulin levels are up and down and up and down in no recognizable pattern. She wants a baby so badly she is quite possibly killing herself.

I am scared.

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Baby K is eighteen months old. She can not sit up by herself. She can walk for small stretches at a time using the most adorable baby walker you've ever seen. Contrasted with her brother (20 minutes older) and her younger cousin (three months younger) who are running around unsteadily on their little toddler legs, she is less strong, less coordinated, and less motivated to move.

They throw around terms - cerebral palsy, neurological damage, and delayed motor function - as if we know what they mean for our little girl. Would we change her treatment? Should we do something different?

I am scared.

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It was a fun Thanksgiving. The food was great. Our nieces and nephews were hilarious and made us laugh until our sides hurt. But now that I'm home and I'm processing all of this, I don't know what to do. Or what to say.

I am thankful for my life. I am thankful for my family. I am thankful that tomorrow we will all get up and do this again.

Deep and Meaningful or I Fucking Hate Best Buy

2010-11-16T18:11:00.003-06:00

The biggest consumer purchases I have ever made are my laptop and my bicycle.

So when our television set, a high school graduation present to my husband, began flickering and throbbing, we knew it was only a matter of time before a new television would have to be purchased. So one Sunday afternoon, I was getting really upset because I wanted to know the score to the stupid Lions game, but our television set was throbby, throbby, throbby, and let's not even talk about how since we had an old skool television set without HD or widescreen, the scores were cut off anyway, and I blew. I turned off the television, turned to my husband, and told him we were going to Best Buy and buying a new television.

And we did. We'd been doing research for approximately eighty bazillion months and we knew what we wanted and we went in there and we purchased a television set.

As I was digging through my purse, attempting to find my wallet to pay, the cashier was babbling on about extended warranties, and Dr. BB was systematically shooting her down, I felt a wrenching in my gut. A little piece of me, the piece that is sort of proud at how frugally and debt free we live, just broke off.

(Tangentially related: I fucking hate Best Buy. The television we purchased has a manufacturer's one year warranty. The cashier asked us to buy a two year warranty. We declined, saying that catastrophic failure would likely occur during the one year period. She then proceeded to say that was true for some products, but not always and then she nodded at the box holding the television we were purchasing!! I stared at her and said, "Do you know something about this television?" She merely responded that she had training about the electronics they sell. I pushed. "So you are telling me that this item is going to catastrophically fail within two years?" "No, no," she said, slowly, as if I were an idiot. "Then why do we need it?" Anyway, Best Buy is for suckers. Next time I buy a big electronic item, let's say approximately two decades from now, we're going to Target.)

Friday we're going car shopping. Our pickup truck, Monster, is ridiculous for the city. Dr. BB is going to be commuting 80 miles a day soon and Monster, while he is reliable and cheap to maintain, is killing us in gas and driveability, a fancy way of saying that Monster tends to fishtail like mad when there is so much as a trace of snow on the ground and it snowed eight inches on Saturday and...well, let's just say that while I survived Saturday, my trust in Monster did not.

I find myself wondering 1) if anyone will give the two of us with our spotty employment histories a car loan and 2) what it will be like to drive a car for the first time in my driving life. And also? How much of my soul will be lying in a showroom floor when we commit to a car payment each month?

It's Clear We're From the Midwest, Isn't It?

2010-11-10T22:21:00.005-06:00

It was quick. We were in California for barely 48 hours and a good four of those hours were traveling to and from the Burbank airport and LAX. But we didn't waste those hours, oh no. We went to a wedding, we went to the beach, we walked the pier and the promenade in Santa Monica, and we went to Trader Joe's and Von's to get food approximately ten times. Thank goodness we had a full kitchen in our hotel room.

Differences between our friends the Californians and us, the loud and proud Midwesterners:
1) We had jackets (and hats and scarves).
2) We failed to bring sunscreen to the wedding, assuming, naturally, that the wedding would be indoors because it is freaking November. Someone has a red neck.
3) I was interested in the Lions score and he was interested in the Bears score. They cared about the Chargers (seriously, the Chargers have fans?!).
4) I had no idea those plants were called "succulents" and that there were entire gardens devoted to them.
5) We stared in amazement at the cheap price of avocados, but recoiled because the price of a carton of yogurt is 25 cents more expensive there! Seriously, grocery shopping almost caused our heads to explode.

November! It's November! How decadent to be outside in a dress with no hose in November!!

The one on the left is Phoby. The one on the right is Chubby. If you travel with mini plants, be prepared to leave yourself plenty of time to get through airport security. And be prepared for those plants to look a bit dilapidated by the time they arrive home.

The mini Polaroids were an inspired idea. I think they got most people, if not everybody, who was present at the wedding. I'm not sure what they're going to do with those pictures, but I contemplated stealing them all!!

Pages, pages, pages

2010-11-10T21:54:00.002-06:00

Here are some thoughts on books I've read recently.

I reread the last four books of the Harry Potter series. The books are still genius. I still think Dumbledore was an idiot.

Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb: Riveting. I was spellbound by the world and by the main character. Sometimes I get flack for reading a lot of popular press fiction, but this was good stuff. I read a different Robin Hobb book (Dragon Keeper) that I absolutely loved and I love this one, too. Unfortunately, the waiting list for Hobb books at our library is incredibly long, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to get another one!

Lady Killer by Lisa Scottoline: I had a different Scottoline book on my list of recommended readings, but this was the only one I could actually find in my library. It was fine. It was entertaining and fluffy and fine.

Ruined by Paula Morris: Take one spoiled, entitled rich girl from New York City and place her in a school filled with spoiled, rich girls from New Orleans, and what do you get? A young adult book with annoying, unsympathetic characters! On the bright side, I do feel like I learned a lot about New Orleans. Do I feel like it was worth the knowledge on the Big Easy? Maybe.

Revenge of the Cheerleaders by Janette Rallison: I've read Rallison before, but this book was my better than My Fair Godmother. The characters are all very likable and the situations, while farcical and silly, seemed to make sense. Fun.

Indulgence in Death by JD Robb: It is well documented that I have a total love for the In Death series. But this book is totally phoning it in. It's just Seduction in Death with different names for the characters. Plus, I demand more Mavis. And fewer stupid Ireland bits that have nothing to do with the rest of the novel. I think this is just lazy. Maybe after 30 books, Robb doesn't have any more ideas. That's fine, but she should wrap the series up in a pretty bow and stop getting my hopes up that the books will be awesome as the early books in the series.

There you have it. Read Robin Hobb and Janette Rallison.

Up next on my list, I have The Eight, Freakanomics (don't ask), and, in honor of Elizabeth, I've put Finnikin of the Rock back on my list. Reviews will be forthcoming. Eventually.

Letters to Loved Ones

2010-11-03T22:56:00.006-05:00

Dear Dr. BB,
I wish I had know when we started dating, oh those many years ago, that we would end up married. I would have totally given you a better blog name. Hell, if I'd know I'd still be here doing this so many years later, I might have given myself a better blog name, too.

You know that sometimes you drive me crazy, right? Like how you don't shut up about how I tailgate when I'm driving. See, when you drive, you can leave as much space as you want between you and the car in front of you so that other idiot drivers can cut in front of you, but I like it better to know that I'm in charge of who gets to move over. Also, I'm not particularly fond of the way you consistently beat me at Wii Skateboard Arena when you don't practice. Plus, your allegiance to the Chicago Bears is BEYOND frustrating, but what can you do?

But on the whole, I like you a lot. I think you are hilarious. You are constantly making jokes using puns just to watch me laugh. You refer to the pun as the lowest form of humor, but I know that you think it's funny that I think you're so funny. I also think you're brilliant. You're not just smart, you know. I like to think I'm smart, but you - you are brilliant. Your mind is always working, crafting arguments, and winning battles against the other voices in your head. I would like to spend about 12 hours in your head, preferably the waking hours, to see just what's happening up there and how all the knowledge is crammed up there.

So sometimes, I get a little snappy with you. It's not really your fault. It's mine. I love you. You are my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and the person I want to be around the most. Please bear with me as I learn to be as levelheaded and emotionally stable as you are.

Love,
Your Wife

**********************

Dear Hester,
Last month I thought you were never going to talk to me again. I was irritable and grouchy for too long until I figured out exactly what had gone wrong. It was a misunderstanding, a strange misunderstanding from my point of view, but at times I forget. I forget that sometimes, most of times even, I don't understand you. You and I are so different, so far apart in how we approach our lives, our emotional entanglements, and our dreams, that when something happens, we react in such different ways it astounds me. But, and this is an important but, I can't imagine my life without you in it. While I don't always understand you, I do know that I don't deserve to have the opportunity to try to figure it out. You keep people so far away, even I know only a small fraction of your secrets, that I feel honored to be in the small circle of friends you do keep. I don't know what I've done to earn this honor, but I'm grateful for whatever it may be.

It was warning to me, those two days last month when you cut off contact and I didn't know what was going on. Friendship is only as good as the effort. I'm sorry that sometimes I fail to make those phone calls, send those cards, or check your Facebook page. I want you to know that you are a priority to me, one of the great loves of my life, and the Bestest Friend a girl could ask to have.

Love,
Dommiwoo

**************************

Dear LDJ,
I watched Dr. BB play Mario Brothers on the Wii today. He questioned me, asking me to explain my fascination with watching others play video games. I tried to explain - I am so bad at it, it makes me nervous to play myself, but I admire the skill it takes to be good - a list of excuses that could fill up this screen. In the end I stopped talking. I mumbled to myself, "It's all LDJ's fault." It is your fault, you know. I think of watching others play video games as a comfort, a time to spend time with people you care about, a joy.

Sometimes, perhaps more than with most people, I feel like I'm letting you down. I don't call enough, I don't DO enough, I am not enough. I'm sorry for all of that. But you should know, I do not take it for granted that I can call you at any time and bitch about anything - politics, family, books, or the smelly guy on the bus that tried to hit on me. Thank you for your patience. You really could get a better friend, I bet. I probably shouldn't tell you that so you don't go dumping me for someone better. But, really, you're special, you're worthy, and you're important. As soon as you realize that, and I hope you do soon, you're going to be on your way to everything you ever dreamed of.

Love,
That Girl Who Used to Drool on Your Pillowcase

In Which I List Children's Movies

2010-11-01T22:42:00.002-05:00

In college, I took this geology class that sounded cool at the time of registration (titled Time, Life, and Man - doesn't that sound cool?), but turned out to be, you know, a geology class. While I can now appreciate the beauty of a nautilus fossil, this class was not exactly riveting. I found it entertaining to flirt with the guy who sat next to me, a former Army soldier who would make random animals out of origami and then pass them over to me. By the end of the semester, I had a veritable zoo on my desk in my dorm room. But then there were the days when the professor would turn down the lights and show film clips. ARGH!! NO!!! (Insert image of undergrad NGS sleeping in a giant lecture hall, drool crusting on her lips...)

I have a pedagogical predilection to hate film as a way of teaching. Clips now and again are fine, but whenever I was showing a movie in a class, I was wasting just trying to fill time. And, frankly, that's what I think most teachers do.

But the truth is, I hate watching movies. I love some movies (Babe, Dirty Dancing, and Monsters, Inc. to name a few), but for the most part, movies require more of an attention span that I can really offer. I am, above all else, flighty. My attention span is approximately the size of that of a gnat and sitting still for an hour and a half while images spin past face faster than I can process them is not a good thing in my book.

So when people ask me what my favorite movie is, sometimes I lie and name an acceptable film that would be appropriate for adults to enjoy. But the truth is, I like Babe (yes, the pig movie) the best. It is colorful and the story is simple and honest and it makes me happy.

As long as you don't turn off the lights.

Today Happiness Is

2010-10-28T19:29:00.005-05:00

1) Rally for Sanity signs.

2) An entire day off tomorrow.

3) Corn mazes, haunted houses, and punny Halloween cards.

4) My reigning #1 status at Wii Arena Skateboarding. I have unlocked the final level at long last.

5) Great Big Sea, an awesome Canadian band (Newfoundland is in Canada, right?) that has a new CD out. The new CD? Is awesomeness squared.

Dear Sister

2010-10-27T21:55:00.003-05:00

My dearest sister,

I know that I don't often take time to tell you how much I appreciate all you do. You are the duly appointed caretaker in our family and I don't know how you do it without going absolutely batshit insane. Well, actually, I find that you are just a teensy bit crazy, but, really, that's completely understandable. I find, while in the presence of our mother, that I revert back to 17, which would make me certifiably crazy, right?

Anyway, thank you. You are awesome.

I worry about you, though. You're still intimidated by the fast food workers of America as I observed when I visited earlier this month and you refused to take your order back even though it was entirely wrong. This inability to confront strangers with problems that you have? It's kind of a problem.

Also, I think that you think soap opera characters are real. I recently started tuning in to General Hospital once a week so that I could call and have something to talk to you about (who is the guy with the Irish accent? why is Jax married to Carly? Tracey and Luke? WTF?) and they way you talk about them sometimes makes me nervous. I made a comment about how Vanessa Marcil must have been hard up after Las Vegas got canceled and you just stared at me like I was rude to acknowledge the actual actress.

I'm a smidgen worried about the animal situation in the house, too. Two cats and four dogs is about four pets too many. Let's work on not replacing the animals as the inevitably die, okay?

But, really, I just want you to know that I appreciate you. It does ease my guilt to know that mom has someone around to count on. And I know you sometimes feel like you are responsible for everything. You're not, you know. You can call me. I'll help. I promise.

Thanks for everything!
Your favoritest sister in the world

Parental Units

2010-10-26T21:59:00.004-05:00

I saw him across the miles of shoes that make up DSW at the Mall of America. An overweight bearded guy holding his wife's purse, baseball cap on his head. I blinked, so sure, so sure for that instant that it was him. Then I blinked again and he was just some guy I'd never seen before. I kept blinking until the tears went away.

She's laid up right now. She had surgery on an old ankle injury and she's on bed rest until the end of November. I send her silly postcards and punny Halloween cards, but when I talk to her on the phone she seems so sad. I am stumped.

I heard "Lay Lady Lay" on the radio tonight. I turned it up as loud as I could, screaming along the words while laughing and crying simultaneously. He used to try and claim that song was about a dog. A dog! As if.

She was so angry that night. She broke every single one of the plates and bowls by hurling them off the balcony. He wouldn't buy her new sheets for the bed, well then, he was going to buy her something worth even more.

He let me take the truck to school, but realized he needed it for moving something later that afternoon. He went to the school, took the truck, parked the car in exactly the same way I had left the truck (meaning he had to back it in) and left the keys in the ignition with a note "took the truck - drive this home - Pops" sitting on the dash. I laughed and laughed and laughed at the instruction. What else was I going to drive home?

She let me curl up into the bed next to her while she slept. I read book after book after book. She'd wake up, look at the pile of books, and ask me which ones I would recommend for her. I would tell her to read all of them, wanting to hear if she agreed with me on the merits (or demerits) of each one.

My uncles crowded around him and they asked him what they thought of the boy his youngest was to marry. He shrugged. "Sink or swim. You gotta let them make their own decisions." Dr. BB listened and wondered. Was that a yae or nae vote?

She finally got to drive the car on that road trip out west as he napped in the back. We were in the Rockies somewhere and the sign told us that there wasn't another gas station for a gazillion miles. Maybe we should stop for gas, I suggested. She looked down at the needle at the orange half hash, looked back at him sleeping, and said we'd be fine. As we coasted down that last mountain, running on fumes and dreams, him harrumphing in the back, me biting my nails to the quick, my mother opened the window and screamed into the cool air.

First Love

2010-10-20T13:48:00.002-05:00

We moved there when I was seven. A falling down farmhouse in a rural area, cornfields separating our acres from the nearest neighbors, and an occasional cow straying into our front yard.

I was years away from being able to ride my bike three miles into town, to meet the other children that lived there, and to buy candy cigarettes and Big League Chew from the tiny corner store with money earned from scouring the road for pop bottles to take back for ten cents each. I was years away from the confidence in my physical abilities to do anything except wash dishes. I was years away from the knowledge that I could think fast and think hard and use my brain for something other than figuring out how to avoid another confrontation with my father.

There was a sun porch on the west side of that farmhouse. My parents put all the moving boxes on that porch after we moved in, so it was filled with cardboard and one leftover couch, stuffing falling out, that they put in there while they decided the best method of discard for it. I found myself on that porch a lot, hiding from him, working on my homework, and dreaming of how I could run away and never be caught.

I learned how to read there. I was very good at regurgitating information before that. I knew the letter 'a' meant a and I knew c-a-t spelled cat, but it wasn't until there was a cat in our farmhouse that I suddenly knew that c-a-t meant Penny, that annoying cat who scratched me so badly that twenty-four years later I still have a scar on my wrist. I joyfully reread all of the old assignments that I had worked so hard on and realized that it was all really easy. All of it.

And there I read. I fell in love, first with Ramona Quimby. She was misunderstood. She was bright, but confused about her place in the world. She was the youngest. She was just like me. As an adult, I read those books and I want to smack Ramona, but she was my first. My first confidant, my first chapter book, my first window to a world that I could escape to.

As I grew, I introduced new characters to my fictional world - Francie Nolan, Sara Crew, Mary Lennox, Anne Shirley, and Black Beauty all became my friends sitting on that couch - but the love of learning to read and learning escapism via my mind, that's my true first love.

Welcome to My World

2010-10-19T21:33:00.002-05:00

This blog was originally titled Neurotic Grad Student because, um, I was a neurotic grad student. But somewhere along the line, I stopped being a grad student and the name of my blog began to grate on me. Every time I updated or commented on someone else's blog, the name seemed to mock me. You fail, it said. You are not a good neurotic grad student.

So I changed my screen name to NGS and changed the blog name to The Time for Change.

Life is about change, right? I feel like every year my personal life undergoes some massive reorganization and that's what the blog title is about. I've been writing here since September 2004 which makes my blog the old grey-haired woman with a cane hobbling about the interwebs. It's a chronicle of my life as a single girl stressed out over roommate problems to a stressed out grad school failure to an engaged girl with no end of devotion and grossness about her darling fiance to a newly married woman who is still moderately disgusting over that man.

We're going to be undergoing massive changes again soon. Dr. BB is on the academic job market and chances are pretty good we'll be moving soon. Moving away from this city that we love, this city where we met and fell in love walking around Lake of the Isles. But this, too, is a time of change. I might now always embrace change, but it is life.

And that's how we got here.

Dear World

2010-10-18T21:13:00.006-05:00

Dear World,

I am a 31 year teacher. I teach lots of things, some of them expertly and some not so expertly. I am married to a wonderful man who works really hard and humors my many idiosyncrasies and tendency to hum Bon Jovi songs as I'm going to sleep at night.

Here's what I would write if I were going to write a bio of myself:

NGS holds a bachelor's degree from Bowling Green (Ohio) State University (go Falcons!) where she majored in political science and minored in mathematics. She holds an advanced degree in political science from the University of Minnesota with a focus on American politics and research methods. She spends her spare time reading books on Euclid and Newton and practicing solving quadratic equations. She's also obsessed with maintaining her standing as the all-time scoring champion on the Wii Fit Skateboard Arena game in her home.

In addition, NGS volunteers for an organization that monitors court cases and tries to figure out ways to make the criminal justice system more transparent and fair. She also spends a lot of time trying to convince her husband that they should get a puppy.

Oh, wait. That IS a bio I wrote for myself to include in brochures for one of my jobs. Who's to say I'm not awesome.

Here are some things you might not know about me.

1) The first time I ever carved a pumpkin, I was in college.

2) I am an expert on standardized tests (seriously).

3) In the last month, I have traveled every weekend except this last weekend when I worked both Saturday and Sunday. My husband is beginning to think he's a bachelor again.

4) If you are my friend, I will tell you when I think you're acting like an idiot. If you're not really my friend, I'll bite my tongue but later tell my husband that I think you're acting like an idiot.

5) I try to ride my bicycle at least 50 miles a week. Until it starts snowing.

6) I made a gluten-free pumpkin pie on Saturday. And gluten-free cookies on Friday. Just call me Martha fucking Stewart.

7) I can't make it past the first level of the Wii Super Mario Brothers game. My husband has completed all the levels and just looks at me with pity at my substandard video game playing abilities. In my defense, I don't have nearly the time to practice that he does. I'm too busy maintaining my lead in Skateboard Arena.

8) I played clarinet in marching band in high school. Last year I had my clarinet refurbished and cleaned and I love playing it. But I suck hard core. Two weekends ago, I went to my high school Homecoming game and the band director didn't remember me. I was crushed.

9) I read trashy romance novels all the time. I'm also rereading the Harry Potter series for like the billionth time. (I'm on the fifth book. Harry is still a whiny brat.)

10) I secretly want children.

11) I not so secretly don't want children.

12) I am conflicted about having children.

13) My husband knows my blog exists, but he doesn't read it. I've maintained it since before we even dated, so it's my space, but I wouldn't care if he read it. I don't think.

14) I think I'm a pretty good teacher, but sometimes I wish I had more patience with my students.

15) My favorite animals in the whole wide world are pigs.

That's all. Thanks for listening,

My Own Double Standards

2010-10-12T15:13:00.004-05:00

I believe that women should be able to do what men do. I also firmly believe that if I'm in an elevator with a man, he should allow me to exit first, that if I'm walking with a man, he should walk on the car side of the street, and that if it's raining out, I should be allowed on the bus first. I have no cognitive dissonance with these things.

I believe that people can believe whatever they want to believe. But if you ever proselytize to me about your religion, I will never be able to look at you again without remembering that and hating you.

I believe that people have the right to vote, even if that vote is different from mine. But if I ever hear you admit that you voted for anyone named Bush for president, for Michelle Bachmann, or voted against a school levy, I will think you are an idiot.

I believe in tolerance. But I am quite intolerant of people who are themselves intolerant. People spouting hatred about homosexuals, folks with accents, or that black man who is our president get no respect from me.

I think about these things a lot. Some of them bother me. I am almost rabidly anti-religious and it pains me sometimes. I want to be open-minded, but as soon as the talk of deities and mysticism comes up, my blood pressure rises and I can feel the meanness ebbing out of my pores. Some of them don't bother me. Bachmann is batshit crazy and the people who vote for her must be batshit crazy too.

But I wonder. Still I wonder. What other double standards do I hold that I am unaware of?

Appropos of Nothing

2010-10-11T17:11:00.002-05:00

I am sick. There will be no deep meaningful thoughts here.

I was in Michigan this weekend hanging out with awesome people. Exhibit A. Me and SV. I have a girl crush on this woman. (Note the redness of my nose. I failed Tissue Blowing 101.

Here I am with ladies who deserve to know that I am about to give them the worst cold of 2010. Sorry!

I don't know about this picture. SV sent it to me. I think it captures my maniacal side pretty well.

While I was cavorting about rural Michigan in dive bars with my high school friends, my husband was involved in more innocent pursuits, including playing in the leaves with our godson.

Happy Monday. May you avoid the Horrid Cold of 2010.

A Reminder

2010-10-06T13:46:00.003-05:00

As I watched the Giants destroy the Bears on Sunday, I took note of the pink additions to the uniforms on the field. Pink gloves, pink arm bands, pink accents on helmets, and let's not forget about the pink baseball caps on the sidelines.

It's not that I don't think breast cancer awareness is important. It totally is. The NIH estimates that 12.2% of women will be diagnoses with some form of breast cancer at one point in their lives. But.

October is also domestic violence awareness month. And, while it is difficult to determine exact numbers of women who are victims of violence in their own homes, some of the most common statistics used indicate the prevalence of domestic violence is as high as nearly one in every four adult women experiencing at least one physical assault by a partner during adulthood. 25% of women in our country. It's shocking, appalling, and sad.

Domestic violence causes death, too, just like breast cancer. But the death count is not what keeps me up at night. It's the count of the women who are alive, breathing, and living in fear in their own homes. It's the children who call 911 from under their covers, afraid of the outcome of the confrontation outside their bedrooms. It's the women who call the shelters, not knowing what to do or who to turn to. It's the women in the ER, making excuses for their bruises and broken bones, lying to medical professionals to protect their families and lives. It's the acceptance in our culture that it's okay to solve arguments using emotional and physical weapons.

So, yes, please continue to support breast cancer awareness. I would ask you to consider a different charity besides the omnipresent Susan G. Komen Foundation that focuses its resources on fundraising and finding a medical cure for cancer without considering prevention, helping women with the costs of medical care, or alternate forms of treatment. This foundation does some good work, but it also spends a huge portion of its budget on fundraising and frankly, there are other good breast cancer awareness charities out there doing better work.

But, also, when you're wearing your ribbons, writing your checks, and walking in those walks, take time to consider other options in October. Millions of women are counting on you.

Plasticity

2010-09-29T15:59:00.002-05:00

Today was the perfect fall day here. I claim that there are a lot of good days, a solid number of great days, and one perfect fall day in the Twin Cities every year. This is that perfect day. A perfect day is that coolish, but not cold temperature, the leaves are just starting to turn, but haven't yet started raining on your head, and everyone is outside, walking, running, cycling, or coloring on the sidewalk with chalk.

For me, I think life is made up of mostly good days, a solid number of good days, and those rare perfect days. Perfect days where everything goes right. Your bus karma is perfect and you never have to run for the bus, but you don't have to wait for it, either. Your presentation goes exactly as planned without a technological or personnel glitch. You pass by a reflected surface and realize that those jeans you have on make you look ten pounds slimmer. Dinner, a brand new recipe, turns out deliciously and decadently. You run farther than you ever have before. When you flip on the television set, you see a brand new episode of Bones and when you turn it off, you go directly to bed where you fall asleep in seconds.

But then there's what's really going on right now. There's nothing wrong right now. I don't feel sick, I don't feel depressed, I just feel generally removed from life. It's like I'm watching somebody else do the things I'm doing. Dreamwalking through classes, spacing through runs and bike rides, and waking up in the morning wondering what that strange person in my body is going to do next.

The day to day struggle to eat, to shower, to work out, to do my job well, to do the things that make life possible is not a struggle because somebody else is doing it. But how come she can make everything look so effortless? She gets up at a reasonable hour and runs right away. She doesn't procrastinate and make the phone call she's been dreading. She doesn't have to take a deep breath and give herself a pep talk before she walks in because she knows she can do it.

I like her, this girl. This girl who is making my life so floaty and free right now. But I wonder when she's going to leave so the real me can take over again.

Biting My Tongue

2010-09-22T21:47:00.003-05:00

Email from student: I missed a couple of lectures and sections. Can I meet with you to go over everything I've missed?
Draft email: Sure, let's have a private tutorial where I go over everything with you that we went over in class. I would be more than happy to do that for you. I love students skipping class and expecting me to do more work because of it.
Actual email sent: Get notes from a classmate.

****************

Facebook status: My baby is the cutest baby ever.
Draft response: Really? I think he's kind of alien looking. And why the dumb name?
Actual response: Nothing.

*****************

Blog post: I make the same mistakes over and over and over again and then write about them to get some reassurance that I'm not a dumb fuck.
Draft response: If you're going to do the same things over and over again, at least have the creativity to say something new about it.
Actual response: Nothing.

*****************

Guy on the bus: Lets his two year old son wander up and down the bus aisles, while the bus is moving. I'm actually somewhat sympathetic to him because he had a baby in a car seat with him, too, but it's downtown and the bus is crowded and moving...
Dude sitting at the front of the bus (to the child who is now sitting in the middle of the aisle): You can't sit there, son.
Guy on the bus: Dude, he's TWO.
Actual response in my head: And you're a douche who's not taking care of his kid.
Actual response of everyone on the bus: Silence.

******************

Guy on elevator (towards two women wearing headscarves): Hey, you ladies black?
Woman #1: chattering in a foreign language to Woman #2
Woman #2: glares
Guy on elevator: talk, talk, talk, harass, harass, harass
Me on elevator: silence

*******************

Sometimes I don't know if I say too much or say too little.

To Heed or Not to Heed

2010-09-20T22:23:00.003-05:00

As I left her classroom for the final time, she put her arm around me and whispered in my ear, "You need to get out of here. You're meant for somewhere else."

I had not seriously considered my life outside of that quadrant of four small towns until that very moment.

************************

They didn't have garbage bags in their house - they just used the bags from the grocery store. You decide what to spend your money on, honey child. Some things are worth it. Some aren't.

Every time I search the shelves for the twenty-five cent can of tomato sauce instead of the sixty five cent can, I hear him. (I also hear him every time I pass up the $1.99 chili powder in favor of the stuff that costs almost $5. It makes a difference, I swear, Uncle Lenny.)

************************

Don't get married, they said. You'll ruin your life. All your freedom will be gone with those vows. I looked at them, their pain so clear in their faces, determined not to let them see my pity or my fear.

************************

Some people aren't meant for this, he said, as he looked pointedly at me. It's okay to exit gracefully.

But sometimes it's hard to know where the door is.

***********************

In Defense Of

2010-09-14T17:53:00.005-05:00

I dream silent, color-filled dreams. They are rarely happy, they are rarely joyous. They are often flashbacks, storms of past emotions long forgotten until my eyes drift shut.

I rarely wake up, sleeping deeply and chaotically. I wake up to find the sheets pristine on his side of the bed and frequently coming off of the bed on my side. The buttons on the duvet cover have been undone on my side of the quilt, showing that even my fingers stay busy at night.

On the rare occasion when I am jolted awake, a sob at the ready or a scream in my throat, he whispers comforting words as he strokes my back. I always try to find the strength to smile at him, to let him know how very much I appreciate him being there.

Yet I seek the refuge of these nighttime visions because it is only there that I confront those demons that seem to never leave. Because in these dreams, I become more powerful than I was before and defeat the monsters that I seemingly cannot escape. I am not the doormat I was back then, but I am courageous and able to stand up for myself and for others.

I have written repeatedly and extensively (oh, let's not forget about here) on taking into account the victims of crimes. So much of our legal system is based on criminals - rehabilitation, sentences, deterrence - that the people who are most affected are often overlooked and neglected.

A reporter enters a locker room, is made to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed through a series of sexual innuendos and pranks, and has the gall to report on that. And, right on cue, the victim blaming began. Women don't belong in locker rooms. Did you see what she was wearing? Also, right on cue, defenses of this behavior began. Men can't help it when they see hot women and the testosterone is flying.

Why shouldn't this woman be allowed to do whatever she wants to do? Wear whatever she wants to wear? As long as she's not violating any laws and her employer doesn't have a problem, shouldn't she be allowed equal opportunities to do the same job a man would do? Without being harassed or even embarrassed? If we are looking for some sort of gender equity, and I think most Americans would agree that this is a good goal, why do we limit the opportunities for women in jobs that they absolutely are qualified for?

In my dreams tonight, I hope I shove a handful of football players, whistling and catcalling, across the room.

Confession: I Hate This Photo

2010-09-09T18:33:00.004-05:00

It looks perfectly great, right? Here I am, pushing my godson in the swing. You can't see the baby very well, but he's laughing like a maniac under that silly hat. He's wearing cute shoes and an adorable onesie. I have a matching hat that looks just like his and if I'd been thinking, I might have worn it so we could have coordinated. My calves look fabulous, my hair had just been cut, hell, I'm even wearing jewelry in the form of bracelets, earrings, and a necklace.

But. There's a big but. My stomach. The issues I have with my belly are pretty much the same any woman of a certain age has. It's pudgy and poofy and yes, there ARE abdominal muscles underneath that flab, but there it is in all its glory. It bothers me a lot. I only post this here as a reminder: we are women. This is how we are.

I work out every damn day. I run for 30 minutes a day every other day, I do at least 30 minutes of aerobic activity on non-running days (cycling, Wii Fit, exercise videos), and I do at least another 20-30 minutes of Wii sports/games/activities involving Jillian Michaels every day. I ride my bicycle on most of our errands that are 5 miles or less away from our house. I am a fanatic about being active and staying strong. Yes, my calves look great. My arms are even starting to look less flabby and more toned. But my stomach? Is stuck like this.

(And let's not even talk about the scale. I am borderline overweight on most indexes. I have no idea how I would lose weight unless I cut cheese out of my diet and I am unwilling to do that.)

I am stronger now than I have ever been excluding my sophomore year of college when I had no friends and worked out two hours a day.

But that doesn't mean that every woman doesn't have something she is self-conscious about.

A Question of Perspective

2010-09-07T23:10:00.003-05:00

They were sitting there quietly around the table when I walked in. The family reunion that is held on Labor Day every year is not a time for quietness or sitting as far as I am concerned. I sashayed into the room, swung my hands up over my head, and loudly said, "I'm here now. The party may begin."

***********************

Our cousin is a quiet man, but I wouldn't call him shy. He's reserved and probably won't make the first conversational move, but he'll talk, oh, he'll talk - if you talk first. He's moving across the country to go to graduate school and the whole family is astir. Maybe he'll meet a girl like you, they say to me. Like me? You know, an extrovert to bring him out of his shell.

***********************

It is a strange world I live in. I would not consider myself an extrovert - quite the opposite, you know. I need to be alone and in the quiet to energize and refresh. But others see me as different, they see me as fearless, as open, as sassy, as easygoing - as different from how I see myself as possible.

It is the comparison with my husband that brings them to say I am outgoing. I have no frame of comparison about what he was like around his family before I came along, but they all say he is different - lighter and happier. I hope that is true. I hope he is happier.

I hope, too, that someday I can be like they think I am.

Youngest to Oldest

2010-09-02T23:31:00.006-05:00

Our youngest nephew turned one earlier this summer. All our nieces and nephews were at the party, held outside at a park in suburban Iowa on one of the hottest, most humid days ever in existence.

Baby L is our youngest baby. He just turned one and damned if I'm not going to have to start calling him a toddler soon. His mother would like him to be out of the baby stage. He's a happy, happy, happy child. He smiles often and cries rarely. His big blue eyes are exact replicas of his mother's eyes. When you put him into his crib, he fusses for exactly 45 seconds and then soothes himself to sleep. When he sees you for the first time, he smiles and giggle maniacally and reaches for you. He is a joy.

Baby K is the youngest of our twins. She is our cuddler. There are always ten times as many pictures of her as any of our other nieces and nephews because they're always on the run and K just likes to be held. We're a mite concerned right now because, while her twin brother is up and walking around, Baby K can't quite muster the strength to sit up by herself yet, let alone walk. But she smiles and laughs at us, she puts her arms up to be held all the time, and is crazy obsessed with helium-filled balloons.

This is my godchild, O (with his awesome mama). He's super cute despite the fact that he looks stoned in every picture I have ever taken of him. He's our little man, walking and babbling and hitting every milestone they put in front of him. He's been off and on oxygen and antibiotics for all of his young life and his little lungs just aren't quite what we want them to be, but he never seems to care when he's wheezing or coughing. He just smiles and laughs and gets up on his chubby little legs and runs away to do important baby work.

Baby A suddenly looks like a little boy! He's not even two yet, although he's so much bigger than our other little guys that we often forget that he, too, is still a baby. He loves to play with balls and kicks a soccer ball better than do (I am not even exaggerating - the kid can dribble and I...can't). He's not very vocal yet - as far as Dr. BB and I can tell the only word he can reliably say is ball - but he knows lots of signs and if Dr. BB and I would just study up when we're not around him, I bet we could have some serious in-depth conversations with him. He's beautiful. (If I were an impartial observer of our nieces and nephews I would give him the most beautiful award. Sadly I am not impartial.)

And this is our oldest niece. I have so many mixed feelings about her. She has brought me great stress and great happiness, but lately she brings me great laughter. I ask her to smile for me and this is what she does (see picture below). I push her on the swing and she asks to go "super high." I think it's funny to hear her say "super high" that I start saying it every time I push her. Eventually, we're both screaming super high above all the other noise in the park. She will, unprompted, find a patch of green grass and dance, dance, dance. She'll pull you out there with her to twirl next to her and pick her up and shake, shake, shake. She's so much fun.

That is our crew. Our little ones, all shining lights, reminding us that happiness is one simple orange balloon (or soccer ball) away.

Cleaning My Kindle

2010-08-30T17:02:00.000-05:00

I have a collection on my Kindle labeled "Read books" and that's where I put books once I've read them. That is, if I don't delete a book because it sucks so badly I'll never want to read it ever again for sure.

When I don't do one of these posts for a while, I see all these books on my Kindle when I open it up and it stresses me out big time!! So here's what I've been reading.

Big Jack by J.D. Robb - This is a book from the In Death series featuring Eve Dallas and Roarke. I don't know how I missed this book in sequence (maybe it was originally in a collaboration?) , but it was a solid early book from the series.

Gone to Green by Judy Christie - A newspaper editor moves to a small southern town after acquiring the local newspaper. It was quirky and enjoyable - a nice light book.

The Goddess of Fried Okra by Jean Brashear - The main character in this book is a bit ditsy with no sense of forward thinking, so it took me quite some time to warm up to her, but once I did I loved this book. I love the characters and the small town charm.

Curious Folks Ask by Sherry Seethaler - This is a collection of questions and answers about history, inventions, and other assorted interesting things. As I was reading this, I find myself asking Dr. BB "did you know that people who are more fit sweat faster and earlier?" and "did you know thiamin was the first vitamin discovered?" If you are the kind of person who finds it important to increase your stores of trivial information, you'll love this book.

Germs, Genes, & Civilization by David P. Clark - Basically, this is a just a look at history with the interpretation that every major event in history was the product of disease. Great stuff.

I'm currently reading The Works of L.M. Montgomery and I'm enjoying it greatly. It may take me a while to get through it, though.

Deeply

2010-08-29T16:27:00.003-05:00

He bounced around the apartment, checking under the couch cushions, noting that someone needed to vacuum the couch, rechecking the pockets in his jackets and pants, rooting through all the bags in our living room, including mine, and moving furniture to check underneath. I scampered after him and before too long sweat was pouring down my face and I could feel my blood pressure rising. I was all but guaranteed a bloody nose before the end of this event.

He lost his keys.

I repeatedly told him to take mine and I would look for his while he was gone. I told him he didn't need any keys today. Just ring the bell and I'll let you in when you get home, I promised. I just wanted him to leave because he was stressing me out so very much with his lost keys.

I know I had them when I came home last night, said he, so they must be in the apartment.

Finally, I had enough.

Let's do the dumb thing. Walk through the events of your homecoming last night. So we did. So the keys were found.

**************************

I've been reading a lot lately about how hard marriage is. For the most part, I don't know that I believe it has been hard for us. Our day to day existence is relaxed and easy going. Sure there have been moments of intolerance, miscommunication, and snapping at each other, but when if I had to pick five words to describe our marriage, difficult would not be one of them.

But these last few months have been difficult. My father's death has been a bigger life event that I could have ever imagined. We have been pulled in different directions, we have been in different states, we have seen different challenges. Dr. BB is still going full throttle on the academic job market in one of the worst markets in memory, I'm trying to help my mother and sister with bureaucratic bullshit from three states away.

***************************

So maybe marriage is only difficult when life is difficult. A shocking conclusion, I know.

The Last 17 Days

2010-08-24T17:39:00.000-05:00

Roadtrip songs of repetition played on endless rotation on country radio from Minnesota to North Carolina: Undo It by Carrie Underwood and Love Like Crazy by Lee Brice

Texts sent to my husband quoting Carrie Underwood songs: Approximately a dozen

Seashells collected: Approximately a million

Pictures taken: Two and a half rolls. Yes, I still use FILM. And I need to use up the rest of that roll before I get it developed.

Number of beds, not my own, slept in: 6

Days at the beach: 5.5

Days away from my husband: 11

Days away from my husband that I cried on the phone because I missed him: 4 (we are not doing that again)

Bottles of sunscreen used: 2

Days back in Minneapolis: 1

Delight at being back home: Too much to express in numbers

Sunrise and Sunset

2010-08-17T21:32:00.000-05:00

The heat of the day is too much for me here at the beach. I get up early, before sunrise, and run along the beach at low tide while I watch the sun slowly come up over the horizon. By the end of my run, my legs are sore, sweat is sliding down my face, and I collapse in the sand and stare at water. The morning people are of three types: athletic types who are running, boarding, or fishing; the folks allowing their dogs to roam free - sometimes these people walk slowly and comb the beach for shells and sometimes these people chase after their dogs in the surf; and the gawkers - people with video cameras who get really irked when you run on the packed sand right in front of their recording.

I sit until I can't take it anymore - the heat, the sweat, the sand slowly creeping into every crevice of my body. Then I get up and slowly amble back home, savoring the quiet, the warm cool, and the peaceful thoughts circling around my head.

During the day, I occasionally head to the pool, but more often we leave to find air conditioning - a trip to the aquarium, a boat tour to find dolphins, or a trip downtown to wander through the cute little shops attempting to find postcards to send to my grandmother and some cheesy trinket to bring home to my husband. The early start time usually means I slow down by 4 or 5, occasionally taking a nap or just reading for half an hour to recharge.

But, night, night is where it is at for me. Low tide again, watching the sun go down, slowly, slowly, slowly. Then out come the flashlights. I watch the waves roll in and out while the sea foam roils and the mist fogs my glasses. There are few foolhardy folks out at this point, most of us laughing and giggling, as if we are doing something wrong.

I had no idea how much I needed this time. I really felt like I was fine at home, like Minneapolis had wrapped me in its summertime hug. But right now, as I sit here and type this, listening to my cousins bicker, my aunt referee, and the ocean in the distance, I realize that Minneapolis has healed me in its own way, but this week is the week I needed to invigorate my joy and faith in nature.

Sound and Fury

2010-08-16T15:11:00.000-05:00

It was pitch black when we pulled in, hours and hours after our planned arrival time. A series of bad navigational decisions and a wrong address were behind us. I hadn't even finished unloading the car when I decided I had to go to the beach. I couldn't wait even a minute longer. 24 hours of driving and fourteen hundred miles, give or take, and the water was calling to me.

Once down there, I kicked off my shoes and ran into the water, screaming over the noise of the crashing waves. My cousin and I screeched as the water came roaring up, soaking our skirts and covering our legs with sand. My glasses had a fine film of sea mist over them. It was dark, so dark that the flashlights barely cut the darkness. We could see other people coming by the lights bobbing up and down.

Further and further into the ocean, screaming. Tears started streaming down my face. Crying and screaming, crying and screaming. I ran further, arms raised high, driving away the hours in the car, the stress of getting lost, and the tensions of days spent at my mother's house, dealing with bureaucracies and mess.

On the slow walk back to the townhouse, we laughed giddily and attempted to skip in our sandals and flip flops. We were soaked, sandy, and so excited for the week to come.

Black and Gold and Red All Over

2010-08-14T09:25:00.001-05:00

He spent ten minutes poring over the box of belts and belt buckles. I was there to perform the most basic of yard sale tasks - name a price and take his money. But, honestly, if he had asked, I would have handed him the entire box without taking a penny.

"How much for these?" he asks, holding up four belts and just about every buckle in the box.

"For you, four bucks."

He looks excited. I have clearly lowballed the price since my garage sale expertise is so limited.

"Ain't nobody else gonna want them," I drawl, slipping into my hick voice as easily and comfortable as I slip into the sheets at night. The "ain't" takes three syllables and the "want" turns into wone. "Don't see a lot guys this size shopping at garage sales." I slip my arm around his waist as I help him stand up from the lawn chair.

My husband's head whips around. I smile at him, knowing that once again, the suburban boy from Iowa is impressed with my ability to blend into this environment.

"Five dollars for the lot." He hands me his five dollars, cobbled together with one dollar bills and coins from the ashtray in his pickup truck. I scratch the beagle sitting in the passenger seat of the pickup behind the ears before he turns it on, once, twice, coughing and sputtering all the while. I wave goodbye.

*******************

They had packed it all up. In a matter of ten hours, we sold a lot of it and dropped the rest of it in the donation box twenty miles away. If you walked into the house, with the exceptions of the photos and the strange assortment of dream catchers and walking sticks hanging on the walls, you wouldn't even know he had lived there.

It is a sobering thought that the possessions so important to us right now - our clothes, photos, books, and dishes - are worth so little at the end of life. There's nothing left now. Nothing but memories and the ability of his youngest child to slip in and out of rural and metropolitan environs without missing a beat.

Eraser Dust

2010-08-11T22:17:00.002-05:00

If I could:

I would not break his heart.
I would stop pouting and smile at my parents.
I would just stop when I was unhappy.
I would get up earlier and enjoy the blissful early morning quiet.
I would not put it off.
I would get a dog before I met Mr. Practical.
I would stop worrying about things out of my control.
I would call her before her number changed and she was gone for good.
I would apologize to them.
I would stop rushing into judgment so quickly.
I would show off that 18 year old body.
I would study less and party more.
I would be braver and less insecure.
I would love more, laugh more, and smile through it all.

I will:

Live now.
Enjoy now.
Stress out later.
Jump up and down every day.
Scream out the frustration.
Curl up to him in the middle of the night.
Leave my cell phone at home.
Call her every week.
Forgive them.
Forget that.
Think happy thoughts.
Help fix the wrongs.
Kiss the boo boos.
Push the swings.
Live the life I've been given.

More Books

2010-08-09T18:58:00.001-05:00

The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible by A. J. Jacobs - So the subtitle says it all here. Jacobs tries to follow the Bible for a year. He starts with the Old Testament and works in the New Testament at the end. It was oddly hilarious. It's the kind of book that points out the intrinsic contradictions of the Bible while desperately trying to reconcile them. Jacobs writes in a similar wryly anecdotal style to Bill Bryson and while I know each of them has their critics, I think they are super funny and I am definitely going to put more Jacobs on my library list.

The Opposite of Me by Sarah Pekkanen - A story about sisters. I think my relationship with my sister is as fractured as the relationship in this story and the whole time I was reading it, I had a knot in my stomach. So, hey, maybe if you don't have the same thing I have going on with my sister, this book would be for you!

Mixed Bags by Melody Carlson and Always Watching by Brandilynn Collins - Both of these were sneakily free downloads on the Kindle and both are Christian literature aimed at young adults. They were pretty good, but sneaked in some preaching I didn't really need to read. The Christian fiction publishers are very sneaky in their descriptions of these novels on the web site. I'm starting to get very, very leery of any of the free downloads.

Katy's New World by Kim Vogal Sawyer - This book was overtly Christian (shocking! another free Kindle download). A Mennonite girl goes to a regular public high school and hijinks follow. I knew the premise going in. I thought the book was okay in a "we're all different and we're all picked on in high school" kind of way.

Waiting for it to cool completely

2010-08-06T18:29:00.000-05:00

Somewhere along the line I entered a contest and won ten pounds of blueberries. The blueberries arrived last week and, um, do you know what ten pounds of blueberries looks like? Because I really had no idea. Turns out, it's approximately 25 times the number of blueberries that you buy at the grocery store for $4.99 a pint. (Yep. That's what our local grocery store charges for them when they are not on sale.)

The blueberries arrived with about a pound ruined during shipping since one of the containers opened. We froze about six pounds in glass jars. We had delicious blueberry pancakes approximately eighty million times, made a gorgeous blueberry pie, and canned two pints of blueberry jam. You may call me Martha Stewart.

Details on gluten free baking that you probably don't care about unless you came here for gluten free baking help:

We used the gluten free Bisquick mix to make pancakes the first time and they were fabulous. Light, fluffy, and delicious. They did not brown up evenly, but it was still pretty obvious when they were done cooking. We used this mix to bake biscuits also and the mix did an awesome job. I got that box from someone at General Mills before it was available in stores. Now I can't find it in any stores, but the web site says it's coming soon. Every gluten free cook should have a box of this stuff in their cupboards. (We just put 3/4 cup of blueberries in the batter, let the batter sit for 30 minutes, and then cooked them up.)

The other times we used Bob's Red Mill's pancake mix. It was okay. Not nearly as fluffy as the Bisquick, but fine. It cooked evenly and the texture was good. Since it's cheaper and more readily available than the Bisquick, I think we're going to be using it a lot. (We just put 3/4 cup of blueberries in the batter, let the batter sit for 30 minutes, and then cooked them up.)

To make our delicious pie, we followed the recipe in the Joy of Cooking for the pie filling (berries, sugar, lemon) and added some cinnamon. We used a pie crust mix from Breads by Anna and it was really, really good. Flaky and just like regular pie crust. We pinched the bottom pie crust into a pie pan and rolled out the top crust between some wax paper. I was shocked at how quick the process was. Maybe someday I'll attempt a pie crust from scratch, but I thought this was a pretty good start for our first pie.

The jam was easy, but required us to buy a bunch of stuff we didn't already have (pectin, Mason jars, a jarring set including a lid lifter, wide mouthed funnel, and a jar grabber) and also required me to improvise on something I should have had (notably, a wire rack to put on the bottom of our big pot that I used to boil the jars to sanitize them - I had to wrap the jars in dishtowels to prevent them from touching each other or the metal pot). The preparation was a pain in the rear, but the jam is delicious. I used the recipe provided by the foldout in the pectin box.

If I was going to make jam again or start to jar vegetables (which I'm just crunchy enough to think I might do), I'd invest in a steam canner to avoid some of the issues I had with sanitizing my jars. Now that I have all the other equipment, I'd be all set!!

My Invisibility Cloak

2010-08-05T12:31:00.003-05:00

We were watching a scene from an episode of an old television show. The main character pretty much ignores her younger sister so what you see on the screen is a pair of eyeglasses bobbing up and down in space at the younger sister's place at the dining room table. The younger sister is invisible. As we watched this scene, I immediately knew what was going on. But Dr. BB was a bit puzzled and when the special effects went away and the younger sister was revealed, he let out a soft "oh." (This is from the pilot of Dead Like Me, a strange television show from 2003-2004 with a mixed tone and annoying main character that I am oddly entranced by.)

***********************

I suggested to my class that they make flashcards to study the concepts. "There's been some research done in the psychology journals that suggests you should look over the cards in three different physical locations so that your brain gets used to seeing the ideas in different places," I paused here for comedic effect, "so don't just keep looking it at while you're at your desk, but put a few in you pants pocket and take a look at them while you're waiting for the bus or eating lunch at Taco Bell or waiting at the checkout line at the grocery store."

Right on cue they snickered.

"But won't people look at you ?"

I paused. This was a new question. "Do you pay attention to other people at the grocery store?"

They stared.

"Hmmm. Well, I guess I just assume no one is paying any attention to me."

************************

We live on the same block as a senior citizen center. It has day programs and residential programs, and makes the best neighbor. Elderly folks are always out and about with their canes, walkers, wheelchairs, and scooters. The nurses and other caretakers are also always about. It's nice. It feels homey and sometimes I stop and flirt with the old men sitting on the benches.

Tuesday was National Night Out's block party and we had gotten a flyer in the mail about how our block's party was to be held in the courtyard of the center. BB and I put on our sunscreen and hats and walked to the courtyard to find that the party had been moved indoors thanks to the eleven billion degree temperature with 99% humidity.

Inside, there was free cotton candy, ice cream, hotdogs, and popcorn. There was a polka band with a tuba player and clarinetist. There was a creepy clown wandering about with a kazoo. There were also a couple of hundred gray haired individuals sitting around listening to the band. The band was good and I was smiling and enjoying it. Dr. BB was not.

We left shortly afterward. As we left he told me that he just felt so out of place - a good 30 years younger than anyone else there. I smiled.

I don't think anyone even looked at us.

Damn You Applebee's

2010-08-03T13:58:00.004-05:00

I am going back to Michigan soon to deal with some lingering issues regarding my father's death. The last time I was there, I was exceptionally impressed by the support my family got from, in particular, my friends from high school. One of my high school peers, a girl I was close to in high school, but someone I had grown apart from for assorted reasons having mostly to do with me having had an abortion and the two of us having radically different religious and political views, was one of the most supportive people while I was there.

So I emailed all those people, including this woman I've had some problems with in the past, and told them that I would love to hang out with them while I am in town. Two nights have been set aside and then the planning began.

It started out so simply. What do you want to do? Suggestions range from hanging out at someone's house, going to a park, or going out to eat came forth.

I respond that going out to eat is usually not a pleasant task for us because of Dr. BB's (I think I'm going to call him that now because it pisses him off) dietary restrictions.

She emails back that her mother has Celiac's and that their family eats at Applebee's all the time.

I responded with a note that I am not entirely sure how sensitive her mother is, but Applebee's does not have a dedicated gluten free grill so cross contamination would be a problem and since there is no GF information on their website, the servers and cooks are bound to be unknowledgeable about the issue, and my husband's system is pretty sensitive to even small amounts of gluten. While some people take it up that they are responsible for educating these servers, Dr. BB and I do not. Applebee's is out.

She emails that she doesn't see what the big fuss is about. If he gets a little bit of gluten through cross contamination, no harm done.

And here I stand. I want this friendship to continue. I really do.

But what I really want to write back is: Fuck you. My husband will die with repeated "little bits of gluten through cross contamination." I have no idea how your mother hasn't gotten sick eating at Applebee's all these times. If my husband has even a small amount of gluten, he is sick for days. I can't believe how insensitive you are to this issue considering your own family history.

What I probably will write is: We are uncomfortable with Applebee's. If everyone else wants to eat there, we will eat at home and meet up with you afterward.

This eating out thing? It's really stressing me out.

Dreaming Out Loud

2010-07-30T22:47:00.003-05:00

I like being married. I like my husband*. I like spending time with him. I trust him with my life. When I fill out insurance, medical, or other bureaucratic forms, I take a certain pride in checking the married box and writing his name down as my spouse.

So it pisses me off greatly that not everyone gets to enjoy the same rights and privileges that I enjoy because I happened to be lucky enough to fall in love with someone who is of the opposite gender.

I have friends, a wonderful lesbian couple, who adopted an adorable baby girl together. But they are limited in where they can live to states where they can both share custody of their child.

I have another friend who once told me that she sees herself being alone in her life, not because she is unlovable, but because she wants forever and she doesn't see how it can be forever without a marriage, a marriage she doesn't think will ever be legal.

I am not talking civil unions that still don't allow your partner to receive social security benefits if you happen to die. I am not talking civil unions that don't allow for federally mandated leave to care for your spouse. I am not talking civil unions that don't allow your partner to be listed as dependent on your medical insurances. I am not talking civil unions that aren't recognized if you accidentally cross state borders.

I am talking about marriage - a federally recognized vow of fidelity and financial entanglement.

Civil union is not an equivalent institution to marriage. Civil unions are state-level and there are many federal benefits to being married that don't come with a civil union - the right to FMLA leave, the right to file joint tax returns, the right to fucking cross a state border with your adopted child, and the right to spousal veterans benefits to name just a few.

There were joint rallies yesterday in our state capitol of St. Paul. Inside the capitol building, pro gay marriage activists held signs and chanted and outside anti gay marriage bigots held their own rallies. I am appalled that in this day and age, when we tell our children we will love them no matter what, when we tell our children (wrongly) that they can be anything they want when they grow up, we can't just allow for two people who are in love to take that vow and agree to pay the higher taxes (man, getting married did not do good things for me in terms of federal taxes). I honestly don't see the other side to this issue.

A threat to "traditional" marriage? How can allowing more people access to marriage be a threat?

It is mind boggling.

*Actually, I really like him. I think he's brilliant, hilarious, and quite handsome**, but it seems a bit coarse to brag about it all the time.

**He also has spectacularly bad taste in music, wears socks with sandals on occasion, and doesn't like bananas. It is a mystery how we stay together.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

2010-07-26T09:00:00.002-05:00

The book we read as part of our teachers professional development sequence on poverty said that the way most teachers tell a story is linearly - the story begins with setting and characters are introduced, plot is developed to a climax, and then there is a resolution. The way a lot of the children we are teaching tell a story is to reach the greatest emotional impact and involve the audience the most - starting off with the climax and then parsing the details out in small tidbits later, requiring the listener to affirm and demonstrate listening.

I started to listen to my students more as they told stories.

The way they told stories would dizzy me. Starting at the climax of whatever story a student would tell would utterly confuse me. The circling round and round to the same problem, over and over again. The unfinished sentences and necessary and important details would come out long after the original description needed clarifying

I finally started to know why they couldn't do math problems. They never understood the POINT. What was the end result? Fuck all these intermediary steps - they wanted to know the end right away! That was how they told stories.

I started to show a complete problem from the very beginning, before they had to do any work, and then list the steps to each type of problem on the board. Damn it, I was going to teach them to think linearly if it killed me. And it practically did.

This book here, this Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, it does that thing - that starting in the middle of the fucking story. It's overall in chronological order from when the narrator was young to early adulthood to adulthood, but within each of those three sections, it's in medias res all the way. He starts by giving away the ending and then eventually winding his way to an explanation. And it...drove me insane.

I'm also enjoy a plot driven book and this book...is not so much with the rapidly developing plot.

So I pretty much hated this book. Rarely have I disliked a book so much that I write an entire post devoted to why I hate it.

But I still can't not recommend it. Its writing is quite good. The premise is...not awful. The characters are...not entirely unforgettable.

I just can't wrap my head around the sloppiness of giving away the the ending. You can call it foreshadowing if you will (and my eighth grade English teacher did), but I call it ruining the ending and the making me want to hurl the book against the wall.

Read this at your own peril. You've been warned.

McQuestion, Rallison, and Stewart Meet in a Bar...

2010-07-22T08:44:00.002-05:00

Life on Hold and Favorite by Karen McQuestion - McQuestion is one of Amazon's authors. These are two young adult novels produced exclusively for the Kindle. They are relatively inexpensive, $2.99 per book, and came to my attention when I did a search for Sarah Dessen. Both books were okay, good enough to keep my mind off the agonizing pain (another day, another explanation, another reason to want this summer to be over and done) while I sat in the ER waiting room. I don't think McQuestion is as good as Dessen - the characters aren't quite as memorable and I don't feel like I should reread either of these books - but I hope that someday McQuestion's name is mentioned when discussing popular YA authors.

My Fair Godmother by Janette Rallison - This book starts with the clever premise that a fairy godmother is only mediocre at her job and this leads to various interesting and hilarious unforeseen consequences for the person whose wishes are being granted. I was amused.

Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart - This novel is not my usual style. First, with its copyright of 1958, it's a little bit less contemporary than what I normally read. Second, while the novel is a romance and mystery, it's also much less procedural than what I normally read. It took me a chapter or two to get into the rhythm of the writing, the delightful way Stewart puts together words in exactly the opposite way I would, but in a way that slides off the page into your heart. Brilliant.

Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers - This is the a slightly more adult version of the Blubber story told by Judy Blume all those years ago. Girl who is a bully ends up getting bullied. I found the main character almost despicable at times, but Summers did an interesting thing by convincing me that somehow I cared about her, notably by making two of her previous victims care about her. Regina is a complicated character and our feelings about her should be conflicted, but, in the end, it's a haunting book about bullying, yes, but also regret and selfishness. Definitely a read worth reading.

System Fail: Pragmatism Must Rule

2010-07-16T00:21:00.000-05:00

The Swiss government is refusing to extradite Roman Polanski because of a paperwork mistake.

A paperwork mistake.

I've gone back and forth on this over and over again in my head. Polanski pled guilty to unlawful sexual intercourse (statutory rape). He fled to France before he was formally sentenced and has been running away from these charges for 30 some years now.

Here's the deal: he probably wasn't going to serve more time anyway. He was, in all likelihood, going to be arrested and deported at his sentencing hearing, with the end result being exactly where it is today with Polanski living in Europe somewhere, probably sexually assaulting other young women.

So, yes, the stubborn, intractable person inside me screams that Polanski should be brought back to the States to deal with his legal tangles. But the other side of me is screaming that the victim, who is now a grown woman in her 40s, has the right to move on with her life. She doesn't want this to go on anymore. I think we should abide by her wishes.

In many domestic violence cases victims want charges dropped, they want to have contact with their abusers, and they want to move on with their lives. Most of the time, I disagree with the victims in these cases. There is much evidence that perpetrators of domestic violence ratchet up the level of violence when the police and judicial system are involved. No contact orders are frequently put into place in an attempt to stop this escalating violence. There is a compelling interest to stop the violence immediately.

In this case, I see no reason why the United States should continue to victimize this victim. She was let down over 30 years ago when the judge allowed Polanski to leave the country. She was let down by the French, Polish, and Swiss government who allowed Polanski to live in their countries with no penalty. She was let down by the many in the movie business who continued to work with Polanski, continued to nominate and vote for him to win awards, and continued to support his exile from the United States. It is, however, unlikely that Polanski actually represents a threat to the safety or well being of this victim now or, frankly, the state.

I am happy that I no longer have to remember the most traumatic event of my 13 year old life every day now that I am no longer in my teens. This poor woman has to be allowed to live her life without this shadow hanging over her. Today I heard someone on the radio claim that the victim in this case "wasn't innocent because she was trying to do whatever she could to break into the movie business." Guess what? She was 13. She was innocent. No 13 year old can give consent for sexual activity, especially one who has been plied with alcohol and illegal drugs.

Do I think Polanski got away with a crime? Do I think he got special privileges because he had resources and connections? Do I think that this sets a bad precedent for future court cases involving foreign nationals and extradition? Yes, yes, I do.

Do I think it's too bad Polanski's wife and unborn child were murdered in a tragic way? Yes, yes, I do. Do I think it's an excuse to take advantage of a young teenager? No, no I do not.

So, in the end, I think that I have come to the conclusion that we should, in this case, let the matter of Polanski rest. And if he ever sets foot in the United States again, he should never be allowed to leave jail.

Pressed Between the Pages of My Mind

2010-07-13T21:52:00.003-05:00

Entering the store, I quickly locate my four produce items (two red peppers, a zucchini, a head of romaine lettuce, and some bing cherries) and I'm heading across the store to find dental floss when I see her. She's smiling at me in the puzzled manner of someone who thinks she knows me, but isn't really sure. She looks vaguely familiar to me, too, so I smile as I walk past her and say hello.

I get the floss and get into line. She is in front of me. Crap. I don't remember her name.

"Hey NGS. What happened to you?"

I look down at myself. I don't look great and I'm sweaty and the bike helmet hanging from my belt loop should explain why, but what kind of question is that?!

"Uhhh..." Great. Now I'm stuttering.

I'm still trying to place this woman. How do I know her?

She proceeds to hold an entire conversation where I have little to do besides nod and smile and grunt. I am relieved when the slow cashier finally gets to her and unknown woman starts bagging her items and leaves me alone. She checks out, tells me it was good to see me, and leaves. I check out ($15 even!).

I put my bag in the basket on my bike and start to pedal away.

Lauren. Her name was Lauren. I knew her in my grad school days. She has lovely hair and wears skirts about six inches too long to be flattering. We don't share subfields, friends, or interests, but she's kind and polite and blandly nice.

I begin to wonder about all those people out there, people who remember me, people who have wrinkles in their brains devoted to memories of me, but people I just don't remember. I regularly get Facebook requests from people that I clearly went to high school with, but I just don't/won't/can't remember. (Yes, I deny those requests.) I feel incredible guilt about those people. They think I'm important enough to think about, but I just cut them out of my mind and move on. Should I feel guilt? Should I be flabbergasted at the clearly inferior quality of my own memory? Should I just forget this topic altogether?

Lauren. Her name is Lauren.

Happy Things

2010-07-11T23:51:00.009-05:00

We're running again. Between the running and biking, I'm trying to get some muscle definition back in my legs. We'll see. But it certainly is giving me more energy - enough energy that it's after midnight and I'm still awake!!

When we were in NYC, Bestest Friend and I purchased awesome peace sign bracelets in Chinatown. I wear mine every day and it always makes me happy when I look down and see it. (These are our actual hands. Bestest Friend has on awesome nail polish. I barely remember to file my nails, so I'm pretty sure you can figure out who is who here!)

I have an ongoing love affair with Sock Guys socks. They are so comfortable and conform right to your feet in the coziest of ways. So what this means is that the boy keeps buying me these socks because he gets them discounted through his part time job. Moisture wicking and whatever, these puppies are adorable!! (I do have these socks in purple, thank you very much.)
Does anyone else get crazy obsessed with summer fruit? The melons, berries, cherries, nectarines, and plums? Is it just me? Breakfast: one mini bagel with peanut butter, a glass of cranberry juice, and a huge bowl filled with cherries, cantaloupe, and blueberries. Late morning snack: nectarine. Lunch: salad with strawberries and bananas. I just can't stop. I keep eating the fruit!!

And there you have it. My life in a nutshell. There are other minor major happenings going on and all seems to be falling into place.

What is making you happy today?

The Truth About Cats and Dogs

2010-07-08T15:37:00.002-05:00

At approximately eleven o'clock the night before I was to pack all my belongings into a silver Chevy Silverado and drive to college, my father called our house, and let out a relieved sigh when I answered the phone.

"Whew. I thought for sure your mother would answer."

Hmmm. Well, I thought, she's still at work. Even more sarcastically, in my head, I was pondering the ridiculousness of him not knowing her schedule. I actually rolled my eyes and answered, "Nope. She's still at work. So is my sister."

"Great. I had a little too much to drink and I need to you pick me up at the D&W parking lot in Startown."

So I hauled my ass into clothes, got into that silver Chevy truck, and went down to Startown, a half hour away, to pick up my drunk father. I'd seen him drunk only a handful of times. He was a hilarious drunk, so different from the angry man I knew as a teenager. In retrospect, it was probably one of the only times he wasn't in agonizing pain so he could be himself for a brief period, but at the time, it was embarrassing/entertaining/compelling to hang out with my inebriated father.

The most direct route between Startown and my hometown had been, for the vast majority of that summer, that last summer before I left town never to return to reside there again, closed due to some construction. On the way to pick up my father, I realized, with no small amount of glee, that it had been reopened again, saving me a ten minute detour each way.

He was passed out in the his own pickup truck, a black Ford Ranger. His head was lolling against the window when I pulled up next to it. I started knocking on the window, trying to get him to wake up. He just kept sleeping. A Startown police car came creeping up. "You need some help?"

I didn't want him to get in trouble. I mean, he had been drinking and driving. I just shrugged and kept pounding on the window. Eventually he woke up and rolled down the window. The cops drove off, much to my relief.

On the way home, light summer sprinkles were falling down and my wipers were on the very lowest setting. His head would bob back and forth each time they moved. He seemed mesmerized by the movement. Eventually the rain picked up and so did the movements of the wipers. In a moment I can picture just like yesterday, he almost threw his back out trying to keep up with the motion of those blades.

He repeatedly told me that the road was closed. I kept reassuring him that it was open on my drive down and it must have just opened in the last day or two. He'd drowse for a second and then wake up with a jerk and tell me that the road was closed.

When we got home, he told me to set my alarm really early so we could drive back to Startown and get his truck before we had to leave, before my mother could realize that his truck was missing, before the cops started to notice the car was in the parking lot way longer than it should have been.

Sometimes, when I forget to be angry with my father for the mess he has wrought, I think of that night. His head bobbing back and forth, his insistence that I not drive through the construction zone, his general mirth that he was getting away with something my mother would never find out about. I think of that night and I laugh. He was funny at times. He was an asshole, a mean old goat, but he was also my father, capable of great silliness and joviality, the man who painstakingly taught me how to tie my shoes, the man who has had the greatest impact on my relationships with people.

Today I heard a story on the radio about how some scholar thinks Emily Dickinson had epilepsy and I picked up the phone to call me father and ask him if he'd heard it. I wanted to know his opinion on the whole thing. I wanted to hear his voice telling me I am stupid for believing everything I hear. I desperately wanted to hear him berate me. I really did.

I want to talk to him one last time. I really do. I want to tell him how angry I am, how disappointed I am, but I really want to tell him how much I loved him. He did the best he could with me. I was not an easy child, an easy teenager - fuck it, I am not an easy adult - but he did what he could with his limited education, finances, and social skills.

This isn't a love letter. It's too complicated for that. But it is a good-bye in the only way I can say good-bye since that fucker up and died before his time. See ya, Pops. I love you.

And Then Niecy Nash Helped Me

2010-07-06T09:15:00.001-05:00

It's like I've stepped into a reality show that is a cross between Clean Sweep and Hoarders when I enter my mother's house. There are paths to walk, but barely room to set down or bags or walk by each other in the hall. The kitchen and the bathroom are the rooms in the sorriest shape - stacks of stuff everywhere on every conceivable surface. My husband and I eat out of a cooler we bring with us, filled with food we purchased before we leave town. We feel grimier than ever when we get out of the shower, not sure if we've made things better or worse in terms of sanitation.

This is how I grew up. I know how it feels to be too embarrassed by the mess to invite anyone over. I know how it is to go without a meal because you are concerned about the cleanliness of the cooking apparatus used. I know how it is to be the one who cleans and cleans and cleans to find the mess has returned when you get home from work.

When I got back to Minneapolis after visiting my mother and sister, I immediately set forth with the "CLEAN HOUSE NOW" mission. Nothing was sacred. Why, my dear husband, do you have two copies of Aristotle's Politics? I don't want to hear your excuses about one copy with your notes and one clean copy for making photocopies for your classes - one must go. Why do we have three cupcake pans? We only need one. Clothes in the donate pile. Books, DVDs, everything was on the chopping block. Six boxes of files from graduate school whittled down to three (goodbye anything written by Adam Przeworski, but must hold on to McCubbins and Schwartz for mysterious reasons). Years of back issues of National Geographic donated to a local school.

It's as if I can clean my mind of the guilt, the unease, and the sadness that weighs upon my mind when I think of recent events by cleaning and purging the unnecessary clutter in our home. It's as if I can reassure my husband that I am part of my family, sure, but I am unlike my family in some very key elements, including my ability to clean and organize. It's as if I can keep myself busy enough that I won't notice that moving takes more energy than I actually have and going through the motions is the only thing I have left.

June Books

2010-07-05T09:15:00.000-05:00

Uglies, Pretties, and Specials by Scott Westerfeld - I read the entire trilogy right in a row. The first two books were awesome and the third was disappointing. Apparently there's a fourth book in the series (Extras) but I find myself not particularly excited to read it. The premise of Westerfeld's world is interesting and I was riveted to watch the consequences of that premise early in the series. Do read at least the first two.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson - The third book in a trilogy. This one picked up right where the second one ended and was unbelievably awesome. I've recently read some criticism of this series (too violent, too slow, too many unrelated tangents) and while I agree with all the criticisms to some extent, after the first two hundred pages of the first novel, I have been riveted and unable to put the books down. This trilogy ended excellently.

Orange is the New Black by Piper Kerman - So the narrator of the story commits a drug crime and is sent to a women's prison. I was interested in what it was like in the prison - the relationships she formed, the routine of the prison, the difficulties of living life in such an institution - but the narrator herself? I could have strangled her. In a comment left on someone else's site, I kind of went off on Piper Kerman:

Really? You thought the character in Orange is the New Black attempted to sound repentant? Because I thought she just sounded like she was sad she was an idiot, but, hey, drugs aren’t that big a deal. I think she was genuinely upset at what she put her family through, but in terms of the crime itself – I think she thinks the laws are dumb and she’s above them. But maybe I read too much into it. (I found the parts in the prison supremely interesting, but it took half the book of her justifying her idiocy before we got there…some editor had an epic fail.)

Just One Wish by Janette Rallison - I read this at JFK airport waiting for my plane. I remember none of it, so I guess it wasn't a great book.

The Midnighters Trilogy by Scott Westerfeld - Amazon recommended this to me over and over and over again after I completed the Uglies trilogy. These were interesting, but I would again claim that the first two books are strong and the third...is not. So, hey, Westerfeld, can you work on making me happier with your endings? I think this author has an amazing sense of setting and the worlds he creates are vivid and fascinating and I bet he has a difficult time sleeping at night.

Critical Care by Candace Calvert - This was a free Kindle download on Amazon and of course, it was Christian fiction. I will never learn to read between the lines. It wasn't too preachy, but it was preachy, so don't read it. (Bottom line in all these books - religion and god are the answers. While I don't have a problem if you believe that, I don't believe that, and I'm mostly annoyed when proselytizing gets thrown in my face.)

Violet Dawn by Brandilynn Collins - I had to go look at this one again before I could remember it. Woman with mysterious past finds dead body in her backyard and hijinks, mystery, and terror ensue. Eh. I say you can skip it and your life will be fine.

Shakespeare's Trollop and Shakespeare's Counselor by Charlaine Harris - These are books #4 and #5 in Harris's Lily Bard series. I know I said I was done with Lily Bard, but I lied. I read more. I was equally disenchanted with the main character in these books, but what can I say? The way Harris writes dialogue (one character says, "she died and I was heartbroken" and the other character says, "did you just say heartbroken? who uses the word heartbroken?") makes me want to read her books despite the annoying Lily and the even more annoying Jack.

Eternal Hunter by Cynthia Eden - Free Kindle download. Girl has special powers and her boyfriend turns out to be a shapeshifting white lion. Fuck me, is this a Sookie Stackhouse novel? Just. No. Come up with your own ideas.

Nightwalker by Heather Graham - I had fun with this book. The main character sees ghosts, but so do other people (not everyone, just some). It was fun and dynamic. The opening chapter is boring as hell, so if you do a free preview, you can just skip the prologue and move right into the real plot of the novel.

Commercials that make me LESS likely to buy

2010-06-29T23:09:00.000-05:00

1) The obnoxious commercials from Toyota about their minivan, the Siena. I'm not sure if you've seen it, but basically the parents talk about how cool they are and how their minivan matches their awesomeness. There are actually a series of these commercials, including one in which the father in the family gets angry because somebody else dared to buy a Siena. Frankly, whenever I see a Siena on the highway now, I seriously consider smashing into it. Rather than buy, I kinda dislike anyone who WOULD buy it.

2) Pretty much any Walmart commercial will anger me, but have you seen the one where the woman is going through the store counting the rollbacks?! By the end of the commercial, she's counting into the thousands and I'm considering this representative of Walmart's incredibly well known employee relations. Eek. I'm not sure what it would take in an advertisement for Walmart for me to actually go to one of their stores, but this is definitely not it.

3) 5 Gum commercials that try to make the "taste sensation" of the gum comparable to some experience I would never want to live through. Clearly I am not the target demographic for this gum. If this happens when you chew their gum, count me back with my Trident!!

4) Do you guys remember that Mountain Dew commercial that was all World of Warcraft-y during which two women in the grocery store checkout late turn into warriors (?) and start attacking each other? I'm totally not this demographic. If something I buy is going to turn me into a rager, I think I'll opt to, umm, not buy it.

5) Those commercials for the Kia Soul with the hamsters. I just...don't want to live in that world.