I cryptically dedicate the title of this post to my friend Ben in New York City.
And while the substance of the post that HE made under a similiar title was sweet and genuine and heartfelt, mine will be short and sort of bitter.
Let's just say that 20 miles is long. And far. And people who run marathons have something seriously wrong with them.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
I do not like you Meredith Grey
Well I'll just come clean here. Despite the fact that I like to think I have pretty highbrow taste, sometimes I really just want to spend an hour watching super hot people deal with their super selfish and shallow problems.
Which makes Grey's Anatomy such an easy and fun way to waste an hour. Plenty of attractive men, plenty of overblown drama, and not very much to challenge me. Sexy, melodramatic and ultimately, pretty dumb. Sort of like it's titular character Dr. Meredith Grey. The one character I can't stand.
For those of you who don't watch the show, the season opener finds our heroine at the apex of an agonizing love triangle. Should she choose Derick-the one-night stand turned love of her life surgeon who choose reconciliation with his wife over continuing their relationship but then never bothered to really commit to said reconciliation and ended up seducing Meredith in an exam room on hospital prom night while his wife cluelessly sipped punch a few feet away(don't make me explain. I'm already feeling a bit nauseous about these storylines when I see them in black and white.)?
OR
Should she choose Finn-the recently widowed and very cute veterinarian who was only mad for about five seconds when he figured out she slept with Derick when she was really HIS prom date?
So to have two incredibly smart, incredibly hot, incredibly doctorly men beg for her affections she must be a truly amazing woman right?
WRONG! Compared to any other female character on the show, this one is whiny, helpless, self-centered, indecisive and dull. Her storylines are so over the top dramatic-her now crazy mother had an affair with the Chief of Surgery she works for, the father she never met has a whole family she never knew until one showed up as her patient, her dog gets cancer. She's the kind of girl who lives under a tiny dark cloud. But she's totally hot.
And therein lies my gripe with Meredith Grey. She represents all that is wrong with the world. While the smart, strong, capable, independent and highly attractive women on the show deal with real problems, the whiny, sad, spineless but SMOKIN' one deals with which amazing man who has declared his undying love for her she will choose.
Maybe she has to be the main character because she IS the show-sexy, melodramatic, and ultimately, a little bit dumb.
Mind you, I will not stop watching this show. But I might starting hitting mute when her annoying little whine starts up.
Which makes Grey's Anatomy such an easy and fun way to waste an hour. Plenty of attractive men, plenty of overblown drama, and not very much to challenge me. Sexy, melodramatic and ultimately, pretty dumb. Sort of like it's titular character Dr. Meredith Grey. The one character I can't stand.
For those of you who don't watch the show, the season opener finds our heroine at the apex of an agonizing love triangle. Should she choose Derick-the one-night stand turned love of her life surgeon who choose reconciliation with his wife over continuing their relationship but then never bothered to really commit to said reconciliation and ended up seducing Meredith in an exam room on hospital prom night while his wife cluelessly sipped punch a few feet away(don't make me explain. I'm already feeling a bit nauseous about these storylines when I see them in black and white.)?
OR
Should she choose Finn-the recently widowed and very cute veterinarian who was only mad for about five seconds when he figured out she slept with Derick when she was really HIS prom date?
So to have two incredibly smart, incredibly hot, incredibly doctorly men beg for her affections she must be a truly amazing woman right?
WRONG! Compared to any other female character on the show, this one is whiny, helpless, self-centered, indecisive and dull. Her storylines are so over the top dramatic-her now crazy mother had an affair with the Chief of Surgery she works for, the father she never met has a whole family she never knew until one showed up as her patient, her dog gets cancer. She's the kind of girl who lives under a tiny dark cloud. But she's totally hot.
And therein lies my gripe with Meredith Grey. She represents all that is wrong with the world. While the smart, strong, capable, independent and highly attractive women on the show deal with real problems, the whiny, sad, spineless but SMOKIN' one deals with which amazing man who has declared his undying love for her she will choose.
Maybe she has to be the main character because she IS the show-sexy, melodramatic, and ultimately, a little bit dumb.
Mind you, I will not stop watching this show. But I might starting hitting mute when her annoying little whine starts up.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
A tiny treasure
So every couple of weeks I stay up way too late on a work night cruising through the endless supply of internet music blogs downloading an obscene amount of music. I'm usually not very picky-there are quite a few blogs that I trust and so I'm inclined to at least try anything they recommend. Everything I download goes into my nifty "get to know" smart playlist in my iTunes along with any recently purchased CD's and iTunes store singles. I typically listen to whatever the 25-30 newest songs are for a few days and decide what I want to keep and what I want to trash. So I feel like I usually give the things I get off the mp3 blogs a pretty fair chance at getting heard. But sometimes a track will fall through the cracks. It will get overshadowed by something else or it just won't hit me right or it will be number 24 of 25 and not get as much one on one time as some of guys at the top of the list. That's when I really love the shuffle feature on iTunes. I'm just going about my business, listening to music I know and like and BAM! something slips into the rotation that I swear I have never heard before but becomes an obsession.
This happened last night with a song called "Parade" by Heypenny from an album called Use These Spoons. As you can see from this blog, where you can download "Parade" for you own listening pleasure, this is not a brand new song. And a little further searching shows that it was definitely floating through the music blogosphere this whole year but I somehow managed to miss it completely. But I'm not missing out anymore and that's why I'm passing it along to all of you.
You are totally welcome.
This happened last night with a song called "Parade" by Heypenny from an album called Use These Spoons. As you can see from this blog, where you can download "Parade" for you own listening pleasure, this is not a brand new song. And a little further searching shows that it was definitely floating through the music blogosphere this whole year but I somehow managed to miss it completely. But I'm not missing out anymore and that's why I'm passing it along to all of you.
You are totally welcome.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The 60th Anniversary
Today I would like to wish my dad a very Happy 60th Birthday!!
Here are some things my dad likes:
Apple Pie (also America)
The Civil War
NASCAR
His lovely children
Here are some things my dad likes:
Apple Pie (also America)
The Civil War
NASCAR
His lovely children
And these are some things I'd like to say thank you for:
-my undying love for live music
-my writing abilities
-a love of good books
-my soda addiction
-introducing pickles, cherry peppers and dark chocolate to my diet as soon as I could chew
-feeding us cookies and sprite for breakfast when mom was out of town
-not disowning me when i voted for John Kerry
-always being sure I can do anything even if there is evidence to the contrary
-the fraggle face
I love you dad, hope today is a great day!
Monday, September 25, 2006
A serious subject
I have a friend who is probably the closest thing to a saint I've ever known.About six months ago, she and her roommate agreed to be temporary guardians to a pair of teenage sisters in their Capitol Hill congregation whose parents were no longer able to take care of them. What they thought was a good and right thing for them to do has of course, turned into a much, much
bigger responsibility than they could ever have imagined. They have been writing a blog about the whole experience that I can't read without sobbing.They are working to get the two girls into adoptive families and the ever mounting lawyer bills are getting increasingly draining. Their congregation in D.C. has been incredibly generous, and their friends are doing all they can-but the congregation is getting tapped out and their friend group includes alot of folks like them-young and starting out with student loans and little families taking most of their resources. So I have been trying to think of people in my own circle-friends of my parents, more established people I work with, friends with influential families-to try to widen the net of possible contributors. These two women are the most amazing example of selflessness and christlike living and I really want them to be able to care for the girls without the fear of not being able to afford to pay the bills.
So here is my plea to all of you that stop by my blog-can you help? do you know someone who can? Their complete story and a place to send donations can all be found at their blog. It's super easy to just copy and paste that link and send it off to someone who can help. If the 50 or so people who visit my blog everyday made a donation and got at least one other person to do so as well, we could all really help to change just a small corner of the world.
bigger responsibility than they could ever have imagined. They have been writing a blog about the whole experience that I can't read without sobbing.They are working to get the two girls into adoptive families and the ever mounting lawyer bills are getting increasingly draining. Their congregation in D.C. has been incredibly generous, and their friends are doing all they can-but the congregation is getting tapped out and their friend group includes alot of folks like them-young and starting out with student loans and little families taking most of their resources. So I have been trying to think of people in my own circle-friends of my parents, more established people I work with, friends with influential families-to try to widen the net of possible contributors. These two women are the most amazing example of selflessness and christlike living and I really want them to be able to care for the girls without the fear of not being able to afford to pay the bills.
So here is my plea to all of you that stop by my blog-can you help? do you know someone who can? Their complete story and a place to send donations can all be found at their blog. It's super easy to just copy and paste that link and send it off to someone who can help. If the 50 or so people who visit my blog everyday made a donation and got at least one other person to do so as well, we could all really help to change just a small corner of the world.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
BONK!
So guess what happens when you spend the entire week gloating over your fabulous 16 mile run? You have the crappiest run of your training season wherein you end up WALKING six miles in the mid-day sun.
Just in case you were wondering how to make sure your 18 miler gets slashed to 12 and you end up feeling like a chewed up piece of gum, here is the recipe:
1. try not to drink much more than 8 ounces of water the day before. if possible, drink an obscene amout of Diet Coke instead.
2. see if you can have a meeting in another city that requires you to get up at 5:00, fly to Portland, spend the day in heavy brainstorming and fly home in one day.
3. when you get home from the meetings, don't go right to bed. go over to a friend's house and watch the season premiere of The Office for the fourth time in two days.
4. then answer emails for an hour when you get home.
5. then try really hard to be restless in your sleep
6. ditch your normal pre-run food routine and eat an egg mcmuffin. no really, it's just like the banana you usually have
7. goof around for as long as you can after you eat so that by the time you get on the trail, it's been hours since you ate
8. pick a route as far from the beach as possible so that it's really good and hot
9. wear the wrong shoes
I'm telling you folks. It really doesn't take much to make sure that you too can be a complete deadbeat.
Just in case you were wondering how to make sure your 18 miler gets slashed to 12 and you end up feeling like a chewed up piece of gum, here is the recipe:
1. try not to drink much more than 8 ounces of water the day before. if possible, drink an obscene amout of Diet Coke instead.
2. see if you can have a meeting in another city that requires you to get up at 5:00, fly to Portland, spend the day in heavy brainstorming and fly home in one day.
3. when you get home from the meetings, don't go right to bed. go over to a friend's house and watch the season premiere of The Office for the fourth time in two days.
4. then answer emails for an hour when you get home.
5. then try really hard to be restless in your sleep
6. ditch your normal pre-run food routine and eat an egg mcmuffin. no really, it's just like the banana you usually have
7. goof around for as long as you can after you eat so that by the time you get on the trail, it's been hours since you ate
8. pick a route as far from the beach as possible so that it's really good and hot
9. wear the wrong shoes
I'm telling you folks. It really doesn't take much to make sure that you too can be a complete deadbeat.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
In the Kitchen with Julia Child
A few years ago I became slightly obsessed with Julia Child. Not because of her books or her TV show or really even her cooking at all. I found out that she didn't go to culinary school until her late 30's. The woman who still stands as one of the icons of cooking, who paved the way for every Rachel Ray and Naked Chef and food network to come, who pioneered the idea of making gourmet cooking accessible to the masses and whose kitchen is now housed in the Smithsonian didn't even learn her trade until she was almost 40.
Her husband Paul, apparently recognizing a talent and a passion in his wife, was incredibly supportive and spent most of his own career helping her write her books and produce her shows. He even designed that kitchen you can now see for yourself in Washington D.C. to fit her perfectly.
She was too tall for television, her voice can grate on you after you listen to her talk for too long and she certainly isn't a great beauty BUT, she still managed to turn herself into THE foremost American culinary expert of the 20th century.
Everytime I think that time is running out, that I am too old to take up tennis, or learn how to sew, or change careers or go back to school or find a mate who will not be intimated by how many plans I still have knocking around my overactive imagination, I think of Julia and Paul Child.
Her husband Paul, apparently recognizing a talent and a passion in his wife, was incredibly supportive and spent most of his own career helping her write her books and produce her shows. He even designed that kitchen you can now see for yourself in Washington D.C. to fit her perfectly.
She was too tall for television, her voice can grate on you after you listen to her talk for too long and she certainly isn't a great beauty BUT, she still managed to turn herself into THE foremost American culinary expert of the 20th century.
Everytime I think that time is running out, that I am too old to take up tennis, or learn how to sew, or change careers or go back to school or find a mate who will not be intimated by how many plans I still have knocking around my overactive imagination, I think of Julia and Paul Child.
The Nation
Hi Boston-
Alright. I'll admit it. I miss you.
This is hard for me to admit as I spent alot of our time together complaining about you, comparing you to others, plotting my escape from you. But there it is. I opened the internet today to an article about New England leaf peeping and all of the sudden I forgot your miserable winters and your distance from my family and the Red Sox horrible season and just wanted to see you. I want to pull my sweaters out of the dark recesses of my closet and dress in layers and buy new boots and bake pumpkin pies and go to high school football games and corn mazes and pick apples and roadtrip to New York and flirt with the new crop of grad school kids at church. I want one last swim at Walden Pond in the long shadows of summer's end. I want turtlenecks and rowing competitions and Arrested Development in front of the fireplace.
I know. I'm irrational, I'm experiencing selective memory disease. I know that if I lived in Boston right now, I would be so busy dreading the coming snow that I would have little time to enjoy how fresh and alive everyone looks when they are just pleasantly chilled. I would be spending more time worrying about snow tires and crazy heating bills then being grateful for a few more outdoor runs along the Charles.
So don't think I want you back, I don't.
At least I don't think I do.
Whatever, nevermind. Don't respond. I probably won't even send this.
-k8
Alright. I'll admit it. I miss you.
This is hard for me to admit as I spent alot of our time together complaining about you, comparing you to others, plotting my escape from you. But there it is. I opened the internet today to an article about New England leaf peeping and all of the sudden I forgot your miserable winters and your distance from my family and the Red Sox horrible season and just wanted to see you. I want to pull my sweaters out of the dark recesses of my closet and dress in layers and buy new boots and bake pumpkin pies and go to high school football games and corn mazes and pick apples and roadtrip to New York and flirt with the new crop of grad school kids at church. I want one last swim at Walden Pond in the long shadows of summer's end. I want turtlenecks and rowing competitions and Arrested Development in front of the fireplace.
I know. I'm irrational, I'm experiencing selective memory disease. I know that if I lived in Boston right now, I would be so busy dreading the coming snow that I would have little time to enjoy how fresh and alive everyone looks when they are just pleasantly chilled. I would be spending more time worrying about snow tires and crazy heating bills then being grateful for a few more outdoor runs along the Charles.
So don't think I want you back, I don't.
At least I don't think I do.
Whatever, nevermind. Don't respond. I probably won't even send this.
-k8
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Ahoy!
In honor of National "Talk Like a Pirate Day", here is Amy doing her best Captain Hook impression at Dave Eggers' truly delightful pirate store in San Francisco.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Blame it on the Tetons
I stole this from Marc's photostream. It is Emily and Elizabeth at LOTOJA last weekend.
Pretty sure I have to be there next year.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Scattered
Be forewarned, my 30th birthday is so close I could hit it with a rock and it's making my head swim with alternate waves of satisfaction and panic. Sometimes I walk down the list of things I've experienced and accomplished and think, "really? wow, I can't believe this is my life!" Other days I am completely consumed with the things that haven't happened. The stuff I have left to do. I am hoping that actually turning 30-and not just staring helplessly as it hurtles towards me-will quiet some of the loudest fears and worries. So if the next few weeks bring a post or two of a more serious nature than "OMG! We totally had so much fun this weekend!", it's because my heart is swinging back and forth between wanting the last four weeks of my twenties to be one non-stop party, and hoping for some sort of serious epiphany that will alter the course of my next 30 years.
For a variety of reasons, I have spent a lot of time thinking about breakups over the last few months. I don't want to get into a lot of specifics or make this post into some sob story. I want simply to say that a complete review of all the romantic relationships of my life thus far has yielded this conclusion.
"There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to say"
I feel like it's a big accomplishment to be able to say that and to mean it-that I can look back now and see good things about each of these experiences, can find things I learned in each situation, and ultimately feel peaceful about the endings. I was telling a friend tonight that sometimes I feel like my 15 year old sister and I have more in common than I have with married women my own age because I am still dealing with bad dates and awkward crushes. And I guess to some extent that is kind of true, but the truth is that at 15 I had a tendency to assume that any boy who didn't like me back, or hurt my feelings, or flat didn't notice me, was just a dumb jerk. I am glad to have reached a point in my life where I can see that sometimes, two good people just don't work out. Even if you really love each other. I have found that not looking at men as eventual enemies in the dating game, but instead realizing that it's just as confusing and difficult for them, has made a huge difference in the way I feel about relationships and in the way I treat people.
So one of my 30 year old resolutions is that I will not be taking the "boys are dumb!" mentality into the next phase of my life. Unpredictable and confusing and totally frustrating at times? For sure. But I suspect that I can be all of those things as well. I want to be able to live my life with more "sure learned a lot from that one" and less "I wish I had never met you".
Alright October 14. Maybe I'm almost ready for you.
For a variety of reasons, I have spent a lot of time thinking about breakups over the last few months. I don't want to get into a lot of specifics or make this post into some sob story. I want simply to say that a complete review of all the romantic relationships of my life thus far has yielded this conclusion.
"There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to say"
I feel like it's a big accomplishment to be able to say that and to mean it-that I can look back now and see good things about each of these experiences, can find things I learned in each situation, and ultimately feel peaceful about the endings. I was telling a friend tonight that sometimes I feel like my 15 year old sister and I have more in common than I have with married women my own age because I am still dealing with bad dates and awkward crushes. And I guess to some extent that is kind of true, but the truth is that at 15 I had a tendency to assume that any boy who didn't like me back, or hurt my feelings, or flat didn't notice me, was just a dumb jerk. I am glad to have reached a point in my life where I can see that sometimes, two good people just don't work out. Even if you really love each other. I have found that not looking at men as eventual enemies in the dating game, but instead realizing that it's just as confusing and difficult for them, has made a huge difference in the way I feel about relationships and in the way I treat people.
So one of my 30 year old resolutions is that I will not be taking the "boys are dumb!" mentality into the next phase of my life. Unpredictable and confusing and totally frustrating at times? For sure. But I suspect that I can be all of those things as well. I want to be able to live my life with more "sure learned a lot from that one" and less "I wish I had never met you".
Alright October 14. Maybe I'm almost ready for you.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Sweet Sixteen
Last Saturday my brother Christopher and our friend Marc rode their bikes from Logan, Utah to Jackson Hole, Wyoming in a little road race we like to call LOTOJA. If you don't know off the top of your head how far that is, try a little over TWO HUNDRED MILES. Yeah. In one day.
So today, as I did my 16 mile marathon training run, when I was sort of tempted to cheat on my mileage or walk the last five miles, I would chant to myself, "Christpher and Marc rode their bikes from Logan to Jackson. Christopher and Marc rode their bikes from Logan to Jackson," and I would realize what a pansy I was being.
This run was sort of a significant mental victory since it's actually the longest distance I've ever run outside of my last marathon. Three and a half years ago, when I was training for the Rock and Roll Marathon, it was during my 16 miler that I injured myself and wasn't able to run until the day of the race. I still remember exactly where I was in Harvard Square when I felt an excruciating pain my ankle and knew that something was seriously wrong. I limped around Boston that weekend and on Monday my doctor confirmed the seriousness of my injury and I ended up in physical therapy twice a week for the six weeks until the marathon. The only running I did in between was the 30 minutes my therapist let me do in his office three days before I left for San Diego and I sobbed the entire time-partially because I missed running so much and partially because I was totally afraid it would hurt and he would decide I couldn't go. But he sent me off with plenty of athletic tape and a special wrapping technique and I did indeed finish that marathon.
All week I've sort of been dreading this run and today it finally hit me why. My training has not been as consistent as I would have liked this time around, and sickness and travel and aches and pains have all conspired to make me wonder if this was such a good idea. I think I was understandably nervous that this distance might be a real killer.
I am however, very pleased to report that I not only survived, but felt really good pretty much the whole time. The last couple of miles were a bit tough and I am sitting here at 10 on a saturday night already in my pajamas as I am EXHAUSTED. But. I did it. The whole 16. And I didn't get hurt. And I didn't let myself get discouraged. All manner of tiny victories today. And my reward? New jeans in a new, smaller size.
Running rules.
So today, as I did my 16 mile marathon training run, when I was sort of tempted to cheat on my mileage or walk the last five miles, I would chant to myself, "Christpher and Marc rode their bikes from Logan to Jackson. Christopher and Marc rode their bikes from Logan to Jackson," and I would realize what a pansy I was being.
This run was sort of a significant mental victory since it's actually the longest distance I've ever run outside of my last marathon. Three and a half years ago, when I was training for the Rock and Roll Marathon, it was during my 16 miler that I injured myself and wasn't able to run until the day of the race. I still remember exactly where I was in Harvard Square when I felt an excruciating pain my ankle and knew that something was seriously wrong. I limped around Boston that weekend and on Monday my doctor confirmed the seriousness of my injury and I ended up in physical therapy twice a week for the six weeks until the marathon. The only running I did in between was the 30 minutes my therapist let me do in his office three days before I left for San Diego and I sobbed the entire time-partially because I missed running so much and partially because I was totally afraid it would hurt and he would decide I couldn't go. But he sent me off with plenty of athletic tape and a special wrapping technique and I did indeed finish that marathon.
All week I've sort of been dreading this run and today it finally hit me why. My training has not been as consistent as I would have liked this time around, and sickness and travel and aches and pains have all conspired to make me wonder if this was such a good idea. I think I was understandably nervous that this distance might be a real killer.
I am however, very pleased to report that I not only survived, but felt really good pretty much the whole time. The last couple of miles were a bit tough and I am sitting here at 10 on a saturday night already in my pajamas as I am EXHAUSTED. But. I did it. The whole 16. And I didn't get hurt. And I didn't let myself get discouraged. All manner of tiny victories today. And my reward? New jeans in a new, smaller size.
Running rules.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Hey pops
This is my dad about a million years ago.
This photo explains alot about the kind of grownup I turned out to be.
This photo explains alot about the kind of grownup I turned out to be.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The Devil Wears Prada
The dress code at my office is business casual. I usually wear alot of casual skirts and tees, chuck taylors and dressy flip flops-nice pants from time to time and jeans only on Friday. So my look is usually pretty relaxed and comfortable but professional enough for an athletic shoe company. The heels and the jackets typically come out only when I go to account meetings off-site, so the people around my office aren't really used to seeing me all dressed up.
Yesterday I had a meeting with a contractor so I did the whole-"I'm a real live professional with a grown-up job" look. Sassy heels, skirt, flashy top, accessories, my hair actually done like it's supposed to be, makeup-definitely a turned up version of usual.
It turns out you get alot more done in an office full of men when you dress that way. IT support on demand, mailroom guys racing around to do my bidding, even my boss paying closer attention to things I said. It would have been slightly disconcerting if it hadn't also been slightly awesome.
So this morning I show up in a skirt and t-shirt and the guy in the mailroom, who yesterday was fumbling for words when I walked into his office, says to me, "oh, back to normal today?"
Ouch.
Yesterday I had a meeting with a contractor so I did the whole-"I'm a real live professional with a grown-up job" look. Sassy heels, skirt, flashy top, accessories, my hair actually done like it's supposed to be, makeup-definitely a turned up version of usual.
It turns out you get alot more done in an office full of men when you dress that way. IT support on demand, mailroom guys racing around to do my bidding, even my boss paying closer attention to things I said. It would have been slightly disconcerting if it hadn't also been slightly awesome.
So this morning I show up in a skirt and t-shirt and the guy in the mailroom, who yesterday was fumbling for words when I walked into his office, says to me, "oh, back to normal today?"
Ouch.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
World Famous
So it turns out that our family name is known far and wide.
It also turns out that i miss logan so much that seeing his little face is making me cry right into my keyboard.
Missions are just way too long.
It also turns out that i miss logan so much that seeing his little face is making me cry right into my keyboard.
Missions are just way too long.
Friday, September 08, 2006
On a Jet Plane
My sister reminded me last night that the inordinate amount of traveling I do for my job might have some effect on my ability to carry on a normal life.
Because really, when was the last time you spent the morning taking photos in the mirror of an airplane bathroom and playing with them in photoshop because if you have to read one more airline magazine or drink one more child size glass of tomato juice you might lose your mind once and for all.
Because really, when was the last time you spent the morning taking photos in the mirror of an airplane bathroom and playing with them in photoshop because if you have to read one more airline magazine or drink one more child size glass of tomato juice you might lose your mind once and for all.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Found
Saturday night I drove down to San Diego to see a play produced and directed by my friends Amy and Dustin. I arrived a bit early and really, really needed a bathroom so I walked over to the nearby Starbucks. It was there that I found this
I wonder about this Mary Arnold Dorfman. What sort of harrassment did she heap upon the author of this tag and what revenge did he exact on her? I thought about this all the way back to the theater and then promptly forgot as I took my seat.
Which is precisely why I love my digital camera so. My random observations need never again disappear into nothingness.
I wonder about this Mary Arnold Dorfman. What sort of harrassment did she heap upon the author of this tag and what revenge did he exact on her? I thought about this all the way back to the theater and then promptly forgot as I took my seat.
Which is precisely why I love my digital camera so. My random observations need never again disappear into nothingness.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Do it Yourself
I discovered two previously unknown facts about myself this week. First, apparently I have some serious baby hunger buried deep in my single girl soul. And right next to the maternal instincts, there appears to also be some stereotypical Mormon girl arts and craftiness floating around. How did I come to make such a shocking discovery? Blame it on my friend Brooke.
We hosted a baby shower for said friend this weekend and for her gift, I wanted to do something a little more meaningful than little pink clothes from Baby Gap(which truth be told, i also really, really love to buy.) So I solicited some suggestions from friends and made a CD of songs about parenthood. I downloaded songs by everyone from Talking Heads to the Dixie Chicks to this Mark Cohn gem I got from Lori years ago and proceeded to cry like a two year old everytime I worked on the playlist. I don't really know what a girl is supposed to feel when faced with lyrics like these from Paul Simon
"I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loved his daughter more than I love you"
or this particular tear inducing verse by Nil Lara
"I have a son
Growing inside
I've seen the response of God in me
Coming to life
Kicking me strong
Draining my blood
You're my first child
I'll show you no harm
I'll teach you my love"
So yeah, I have been a quivering mess of emotions all week. And I think it's the mommy stirrings that awakened the sleeping crafty genes I didn't think I got from my pioneer ancestors. But a CD with such fantastic lyrics really needed a booklet to go along with it so I found myself one day at lunch spending way too much time and money at Michael's buying the supplies to make this
We hosted a baby shower for said friend this weekend and for her gift, I wanted to do something a little more meaningful than little pink clothes from Baby Gap(which truth be told, i also really, really love to buy.) So I solicited some suggestions from friends and made a CD of songs about parenthood. I downloaded songs by everyone from Talking Heads to the Dixie Chicks to this Mark Cohn gem I got from Lori years ago and proceeded to cry like a two year old everytime I worked on the playlist. I don't really know what a girl is supposed to feel when faced with lyrics like these from Paul Simon
"I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loved his daughter more than I love you"
or this particular tear inducing verse by Nil Lara
"I have a son
Growing inside
I've seen the response of God in me
Coming to life
Kicking me strong
Draining my blood
You're my first child
I'll show you no harm
I'll teach you my love"
So yeah, I have been a quivering mess of emotions all week. And I think it's the mommy stirrings that awakened the sleeping crafty genes I didn't think I got from my pioneer ancestors. But a CD with such fantastic lyrics really needed a booklet to go along with it so I found myself one day at lunch spending way too much time and money at Michael's buying the supplies to make this
I will sheepishly admit that I now own scissors that cut wavy line borders. And lots of ribbon. And so much cardstock. I'm actually thinking of making my own Christmas cards this year but please don't quote me on that.
In all seriousness though, it was really fun to put together the CD and to think about all the wonderful changes that are about to happen in Brooke and Eric's life. And I really enjoyed the creative process of working on the booklet and was quite pleased with how this first try turned out.
And then tonight when Corey and I went to pick up baseball tickets at our friend's house and ended up getting talked into an impromptu game of swimming pool football with a bunch of cute boys, well, I guess there are worse things than being the carefree single girl right?
Friday, September 01, 2006
Alpha Phi + Sigma Chi
Maybe it's the end of summer, maybe it's my rapidly approaching 30th birthday. Could be my baby sister starting high school or my cousin starting her freshman year at my alma mater in Cedar City but I got a bad case of homesickness this week and all I wanted to do was hang out with someone as familiar as a favorite old sweatshirt.
So I called Derick, one of my oldest and dearest college friends, who happens to now live in Orange County and last night I went to dinner with him and his lovely girlfriend Crystal.
I will fully admit that I was spoiled when it came to fun in college. I joined a sorority at the end of my freshman year and although I know that conjures up all manner of stereotypes, I had a really fantastic Greek experience. Derick was in the fraternity we spent most of our time with and was just about one of the best friends a girl could have. I think the poor guy wins the award for having had to listen to me cry about just about every failed relationship of the last 12 years. He has been a listening ear through school worries, divorcing parents, scary career moves and geographic displacements. Always supportive, always ready with patience and great advice. I feel so blessed that our friendship continues to grow even eight years (gulp!)after we graduated.
And I'm pleased to report that sushi seems to be a very effective cure for homesickness.
So I called Derick, one of my oldest and dearest college friends, who happens to now live in Orange County and last night I went to dinner with him and his lovely girlfriend Crystal.
I will fully admit that I was spoiled when it came to fun in college. I joined a sorority at the end of my freshman year and although I know that conjures up all manner of stereotypes, I had a really fantastic Greek experience. Derick was in the fraternity we spent most of our time with and was just about one of the best friends a girl could have. I think the poor guy wins the award for having had to listen to me cry about just about every failed relationship of the last 12 years. He has been a listening ear through school worries, divorcing parents, scary career moves and geographic displacements. Always supportive, always ready with patience and great advice. I feel so blessed that our friendship continues to grow even eight years (gulp!)after we graduated.
And I'm pleased to report that sushi seems to be a very effective cure for homesickness.
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