Link o' the Day

This is my new favorite blog. It cracks me up. I check it like 5 times a day (and Liz, I stole the idea for the February list from them. So the fact that you stole it from me is lovely. I feel like the middle man.) cuz they update it all the time.
From the makers of Hallmark's Shoebox Greetings: The Shoebox Blog.
Happy time wasting.

Power Tools

My one male co-worker and I were talking the other day about some thing or another that was broken. I said that I could fix it, and I believed I could. He looked at me and said, in all seriousness, “OK, but just don't own too many power tools or you will never get a man.”

I gave him the blank stare that I hope you are currently giving his words.

“A guy can't date a girl who has more power tools than him, and if you own too many you'll never find a guy.”

OK, interesting thought process there.

I was not only baffled, I was mildly offended. I think being able to do is one of the more attractive characteristics, in both friends and relationships. The ability to do on one's own is downright sexy in my mind. I am drawn to these people. I have great respect for people who learn what needs to be learned and at the very least try. I don't care if that's in music, in art, in construction, in remodeling, in words, in whatever, the thing that truly matters is caring enough to try. Owning tools is part of that, is a symbol of that, that desire to create and retain, to make ones own. I don't own power tools to speak of (besides my drill, whoot whoot) but I can use most of the tools put in front of me. That is something I love about myself and I hope would be seen as something appealing rather than appalling. And show me a guy who can fix his own shit and...well, just show me that guy. If he likes Jesus, liberalism and beer as well you may never see us again, we will have run off somewhere together. With our power tools. And maybe some books too.

Many Faces Of The Faithful

Today the Washington Post had a great Op Ed piece on being Evangelical and a Democrat. The subtitle was "I'm an Evangelical--and a Liberal. Really." Ahhh I love it--I'm not alone! It's short, so read it. Love you, Wash Post.

February

Reasons February Doesn't Suck:

(1) It's two days shorter than other months...wait, not this year.
(2) Football season! Wait, that ended last month...and doesn't start again to August.
(3) You can start wearing all your new spring...no? You can't? Cuz it's still cold? Whoops.
(4) All those new episodes of favorite shows...that don't come back on til April cuz of the strike.
(5) Winter Olympics! No? Not this year?
(6) Valentines Day! And I'm still single? So...that's not good, right?
(7) President's Day! It's a national holiday! Yet I still had to work?

That's it, this month sucks.

Myopia

I got glasses when I was in second grade. I was very farsighted, which is apparently rare in young children and I got these plastic glasses that were pink on the top and faded to blue on the bottom. I loved them. In third grade I went back for my yearly checkup only to discover that now my left eye had become nearsighted as my right had stayed farsighted. They gave me plastic glasses that were blue on the top and faded to pink on the bottom...except they had bifocal lenses in them. An 8-year-old wearing bifocals. Awesome. I was self-conscious about the line running across my lenses, feeling my oddity like itchy wool. I only had bifocals for a year. My right eye eventually got with the program and became nearsighted and I've been in glasses or contacts ever since. Now my left eye is so nearsighted I have trouble distinguishing not only form and distance but also color—things blur together without lenses to pull it all into focus, to show me what is the what. Without lenses I have problems seeing my own hand in front of my face.

This is the effect of the literal lenses through which life is viewed; how much more important are the figurative ones. The ones that can see the whole mess and yet focus upon the beauty within it, the moments where life is sustained, love is actioned, hope a bulwark against all evidence to the contrary. I don't know what it all means, but those are the lenses that matter more and more as the intricacies of each day, each situation become overwhelmingly distinct. I need to see those edges.

Calm Down, Make a List

When I was in high school and all sorts of shit was hitting all sorts of fans, my friend Megan Mackin and I made list of things to be happy about. This was 1996 or so.
I still have this list.
The original copy.
I still read this list periodically.
It calms me.
When I was in college, in the midst of another storm of fecal proportions, I continued to work on this list of things to be happy about. I was looking for a quote in one of my journals yesterday when I found that list from college (the quote was, “Facts are not pleasant things to rub into your dreams when you're dreaming, but they are mighty pleasant things when you're living.” --From Enos Mills' “Adventures of a Nature Guide” and it was in an entirely different journal). It was astounding to read that list—it's a little over seven years old, but so much of it I still believe. I thought I'd post a portion of it for you all. Even if you don't know everything that's referenced, it's all things to be happy about, I assure you.

Things to be Happy About, as written 10.9.00:
The Law 404 mix tape * Equipment Room keys * Donna the Buffalo * Artie the retarded cat * ESF Stumpies * Cloudless, hot, sunny summer days on the water * Lotus Designs PFDs * Rapelling into a cave * War wounds * Skinny Dipping * Amy McNally * Campfires * thermarests * New gear * Woodchuck Raspberry Hard Cider * Syracuse University Outing Club, SUOC * Mini-fridges * Down comforters * carabiners * nalgene bottles * dry fleece * Overalls * Hank the 1987 F-150 Pickup Truck * Eddie From Ohio * Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's “Fishin' In the Dark” * Boland 2 * Front porches * People laying around in people puddles * Sunny mornings * New guitar strings * Mud wrestling * My laptop * magnetic poetry * Emilie Cole * being tired because you did something big, hard and cool that day * homemade pie * Northern Outfitters, Syracuse NY * Exit 315 off I-81 in VA (it leads home)* Surprising someone with an unexpected gift * Grilled cheese and tomato soup * The Adirondack Mountains * Stab's Pizza-- “Ehy! TWO SLICES!”* Big round hay bales * West Virginia * Finishing writing a song * Josh Marshall * ESF Mugs * Smartwool Socks * Bedhead * Brushing your teeth with all your favorite people in the bathroom doing the same thing * Having a sit-down dinner * Indigo Girls * Small towns * Silence * Allergy medication * Canceled classes * My own bed * Nick Bantock and all his books * Snowshoeing * ESF's Huntington Lodge * Topo maps * Biscuits & sausage gravy, the southern way * Finishing the Daily Orange crossword * Folding camp chairs * New CDs * livetoplay.com * Amelia Pipkin * Jeans that give you a good butt * Big piles of dry leaves to jump in * Really cool stationary * Webbing belts * Napster * Campfire sing-a-longs/concerts *The Jukebox at Edna's in Franklin, WV * Girl Scout cookies * Mini-golf * Sleeping in a tank-top for the first time all season * The occasional cat-call* headlamps *

Some of the things are distinctly Syracuse. My college was actually called, to be long winded: The State University of New York—College of Environmental Science and Forestry at Syracuse University, or ESF for short. Each new student was given an ESF travel coffee mug, and that was the only cup they had for every on-campus event. We didn't use disposable cups at all. If you didn't bring your own, you didn't have one. Boland 2 was my frosh year floor, a group of girls I still talk to at times. Law 404 was my room sophomore year. Amy was my roommate. Amelia was my best friend from high school, who is still the wisest and most godly woman I know under the age of 35. Franklin, WV is where SUOC would go for spring break every year, and Edna's was literally someone's living room that was converted into a bar in the evening hours. It was awkwardly awesome. I guess Edna has since passed away, but that jukebox ruled. Stab's Pizza is a sketchy pizza place/grocery store in Westcott Nation that can't fully be recalled in the blog setting, but is fully worth a visit. Especially after a few hours at Taps next door. Josh Marshall was my boyfriend at the time, and still retains a spot on my current list of things to be happy about. Napster: well screw you, knowledge of pirating music.

Mitts Up

As most of you know I moved in with my father and my step-mom right after I turned 17 (why is a long story and a blog isn't the place to tell it). It was probably the single most significant moment of my life, that move. I was on a field trip with yearbook when I found out I was allowed to move and came back with a suitcase packed for six days in hand. My mom and stepdad wouldn't let me get any of my stuff from her house, so I lived out of that suitcase for close to two months. My stepmom took me shopping for clothing, underwear, etc so I could live that summer in something besides what I'd packed back in late May. There is this roller-coaster at Kings Dominion (shout out, VA) that is entirely inside and completely in the dark. I love roller-coasters but I hate this one, because I can't see what is coming next, there isn't a way to brace my head and neck for the next loop or sharp curve. It is so painful when there is no way to prepare for what's next.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my family in metaphor. I got a phone call Saturday from my step-mom, telling me goodbye. She's leaving my dad after 15 years or so, moving back to Massachusetts in two weeks time. She's been a big part of home for 10 years. How weird is that? A part of my home calls to say goodbye, to not be seen again. We aren't close enough that we'd ever visit each other but she was there for the most seminal moments in my life. God, she got me ready for prom (and got me drunk while doing it...well done), came to both of my graduations, knows all my friends, served as a go-between for a 18 year old girl and her father (very necessary), is responsible for my love of both J.Crew clothing and Victoria's Secret underwear (too much info? Too bad) as well as champagne. For most of the time we knew each other, we got along fabulously. Almost two years ago my dad called me to say that they were splitting up (Read the original post here. It's much better written than this one), but it was my understanding that since then there had been drastic improvements; that they were working it out. Guess not. I think this is why I've historically been so cynical of relationships. Gotta keep your mitts up, kid. I tried this past year to put my guard down, and I'm thankful I did it, if only to learn what it's like. I would love to walk through life unarmed. Well, at least life is never boring. I'll take just about anything over boredom.

Valentines, Schmalentines

Last week I finally got to go to the Biltmore Estate, as I've lived within two miles of its entrance for six months and haven't bothered to go yet. Doug had a free ticket and so the two of us went in celebration of "Valentines, Schmalentines" as we were calling it. I met him at his house at 9am, and with a quick stop at Ingles (S-Ingles to be specific) to get wine, cheese, bagel chips, hummus and grapes we were off to see the house that Vanderbilt...built. Or something.
We are very silly together and this was no exception. We spent a good 15 minutes trying to figure out the best way to model ourselves exactly like a statue. This is what we do for fun apparently. The house was amazing (surprise) and after our tour we drove to the lagoon and had our picnic. Except...we didn't have a wine bottle opener. Or glasses. But we did have my leatherman. So it was pullin' straight from the $15 bottle of Italian red. Awesome.From there we toured the stables and then on to the winery (for those of you who haven't been to the Biltmore, it's a 3 mile drive just to get to the first gate. Then it's three miles past that to get to the house. Then the vineyard is another 4.5 miles past the house. It's an obscene amount of property) to do a tour and then got an actual good bottle of Biltmore's limited reserve merlot, which we sat and drank while we listened to a cooking class. And on and on it went.
The day continued to be awesome and didn't really end til close to 10pm. Well done, Doug. Best non-valentines non-date I've ever had.

Good Times

This one is for you Leslie. Best care package EVER. (I stole the photo from Robin, my partner in crime...as usual)

Silliness/babies

My oldest sister, Bobo, called me on Friday night to say that our other sister, Bubby (this is actually what I call the both of them...aren't you glad you aren't my sibling so I don't nick-name you something stupid then only call you that) was in labor with her 4^th. My mom was driving the two hours out to be with her and help watch her other kids. Whew, way to go, baby maker Bubby. Turned out to be a false alarm but it was still rather exciting. I'm waiting for the call at any moment—she's currently a week overdue to have her third son. When I talked to Bubby she was exactly the same, relaxed and talking about desserts and baking.

After my grandfather's memorial service a few weeks ago the whole extended family had a catered dinner together. The venue was playing background music that was basically the “Choose Cheesy” mix on 'roids; it was ridiculous and mildly inappropriate. “I Say a Little Prayer”, “I've Had the Time of My Life”, “We've Only Just Begun”, etc. You get the idea. My niece Lilia Grace (greatest child ever) and I decided we should dance to the songs, especially “My Girl”. So we were slow dancing out on the floor, having a blast and being silly. My brother and my little sister joined us, even my mom danced with Lilia Grace for a bit. My little sister and I had a dance to “Wishin' and Hopin'” that we made up. My aunts and uncles had these funny plastic black/green glittery bowler hats and fake mustaches (my grandfather used to dress up as Charlie Chaplin) they were wearing around. What I loved about it all was that even in the midst of loss, in the midst of remembering someone we all dearly loved and respected, our silliness and joy had to come out of us. It's a natural expression; silliness is just us. I don't think I've appreciated that to the extent I do now. I do hope there is dancing and silly hats at my memorial service.

Speaking of babies, congrats to Andy and Katherine and Grafton and Beth on the impending babies!

Expectation

I'm always stuck when I come up disappointed and short, when I let the volatile mixture of imagination and expectation plan out events whose simple existence is a stretch. And so I beg. I plead, I haggle, I bargain to try to get what I want, when I want, how I want, in my terms, to satisfy that expectation that really is just an outlet of my deep seeded fears. I treat God like he runs a marketplace and I'm both a petulant child and a savvy businesswoman. I'm needing to curb the loftiness of my expectations. Cling to hope and not live each day in a perpetual letdown. Because it has been a constant tripping over letdowns these past few months and I can't handle it. I need to lower my expectations to something realistic instead of the stratosphere fiction sells as fact and I believe.

You Should Go Here

My friend Liz is doing a blog with her friend Lauren, and it's hilarious lists. I mean, read this thing. It's great.

http://thatwasnthelpful.blogspot.com/

More in the List Department

#1: On Saturday, French Broad Chocolate Company had the soft opening of their new Chocolate Lounge, located very close to the corner of Lexington and Patton, around the corner from Salsa's. GO TO THIS CHOCOLATE LOUNGE. It may have changed my life for the better, and I don't even like chocolate that much. Literally the best chocolates I have ever tasted. Like the world disappeared and I was overwhelmed with flavors and ideas. Godiva is like drinking Boone's Farm and this is the best wine you can imagine. And they serve beer and wine, and a Pisgah Porter does wonders for some seriously good dark chocolate truffles. Plus, my friend Katherine's artwork is featured throughout the lounge. It's gorgeous. So go. Afterward we went over to my friend Ian and Tammy's and sat around in their hot tub drinking bourbon. It was as awesome as it sounds.

#2 From Asheville, plane tickets to Flagstaff cost the same or more than they do to fly to London. Go figure.

#3 I got into a conversation with my mom the other day about kids with parents that are split, and I felt like I got to say a lot of things to her that I needed to say and never could figure out how to say. For someone who has been married and divorced several times, she has no idea what it does to kids. Or how long the effect lasts.

#4 The Giants represented the NFC East well last night, and for that I'll no longer make fun of Eli Manning for looking like he's 13. I'll say he's 15. Also: I expected the Super Bowl to be a "if you drink every time a Peyton Manning commercial comes on you'll be hammered by the two minute warning of the first half" but alas, no Peyton commercials. Or should I say thankfully there weren't. But how great was Tom Petty? I mean really, the person who thought of that: kisses, pies and a raise! Looks like a child molester, sings like a child molester, but still manages to be fairly awesome. Well done, Petty. You keep runnin' down that dream.

#5 I'm in a lull. Don't feel I got too much goin' on.

Misc.

It's been a while!
Tidbits:

* I finally had the concept of post-modernism explained to me. I've never had a theology or philosophy class and it wasn't something taught in science lectures to be sure. Interesting. Now I'm trying to figure out how I feel about aboslutes, and I don't mean the vodka.

* Daniel Snyder, the owner of the Redskins, is trying to make my head explode. I think he is Jerry Jones (owner of the Cowboys) in a young Republican costume. I think he legitimately hates the Redskins and thus is trying to make them implode every year. That's the only conclusion I can come up with for his boneheaded moves.

* I'm also harboring bitterness toward the Green Bay Packers, for losing to the Giants and thus making me have to cheer for an NFC East rival. I don't want to cheer for Eli Manning. Darn you Brett Favre for putting me in that situation.

*My back has been crippingly painful as of late and it is maddening. I'm looking everywhere for reprieve.

* Went to Windy Gap for leftover lunch on Monday--I should visit more often. I had such a love/hate relationship during my internship there and now it's simply love. Those people are such blessings. Plus I get a lot of hugs. In hindsight I am so thankful for my tenure there.

* "LOST" last night...hmm...where are they going? What the heck? And I'm mourning Charlie. I really liked how far his character had come. And poor Claire.

* I'm re-reading "Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith" by Anne Lamott. I sure do love that woman. It's balancing out "The Cloister Walk" by Kathleen Norris.

* I've been studying Daniel lately. In one of his prayers he says, "Do not hear us because we are righteous, but because of your mercy." reminds me that God doesn't hear us because of what we are or aren't, but because he loves us. Should be obvious. Totally isn't.

* There are several things I want to learn how to do, or get certified in: auto mechanic, pilot, EMT, professional driving, shoot a handgun, take self-defense, scuba dive. Maybe be fluent in another language. And learn to sew. I hate feeling helpless in situations.

* I finally got my NC license. The first one they gave me said my gender was male. Whoops.

* You know what is great? Pringles.