Dog in a Pond

Yesterday Jane had the flu and was stuck on the couch. I had the day off and was planning to rip up some flooring but it is rather loud and dirty and probably isn't a good thing to do when one is convalescing in close proximity, so I took Nant (Jane's sweet sweet dog) and we went up to Windy Gap to play and see some people. That dog ran herself HARD. We played lots of fetch, lots of tennis balls into the pond, lots of swimming (which I believe is life-giving to the heart of most lab-mixes). It was a joy just to see her so joyful. I needed something really simple and clearly exuberant to experience and it filled that. She was sound asleep in the car on the way home and had to be given some baby aspirin for her creaky old bones, but I still think she had a time.
I talked to my dad for a half hour last week and it was so much fun and positive and hilarious...he sounded like my dad again. I have missed him sounding like that. Dearly.
Tonight: Kathleen Edwards at The Grey Eagle. I'm pumped. I'm getting some Twin Cousins Alligator Balls (seriously) and a Pisgah Pale and I'm going to sit on my little butt and enjoy some good tunage.

On a completely separate note, I got disc one of "My So-Called Life" which is the first three episodes and here's my confessions:
* I now identify so much more with Angela's mother and her teachers than I do with her. Wow, age. I think, "Angela! Listen to your mom!"
* I now also think that Angela would do better to stick with Brian Krakow rather than Jordan Catalano, because Brian will probably develop good personal skills in college and go on to be very stable, successful and loyal while Jordan will barely graduate from high school and probably won't do anything with himself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, means I may be too old to be watching this show in the same light that I recall it in.

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.

Mojo Kickstart

Jen and Kyle's wedding on Saturday night was even more fun than I expected. I volunteered to CO ropes at Windy Gap and free time was supposed to be done by 4:45, so ropes should have been done by 3:45. Nope. Try 5pm. Wedding starts at 6:30. Half-hour drive home, half-hour drive to wedding. Go. Holy shit. I did it, but just barely. I don't think my heart stopped beating wildly until they were pronounced. There is something that is so much fun about getting really dressed up every now and then; getting to see people who are normally in jeans and fleeces in heels and pearls. It was a whole night of dress up, and it had people in great spirits. I had a great dress (thank you, you three) and really needed a night of feeling pretty; a mojo kickstart in a way. Everyone partied sufficiently if I do say so myself. After the wedding a bunch of us headed to Barley's for an after party. I got home at close to 2am. That's way too many hours in heels if you ask me, but wow was it fun. Next up: The martini Christmas party! The event of December! Anyway, I started this list quite a while ago and thought I'd post it—again, every list is incomplete and it's up to you to complete it. Here's one befitting this weekend.

SONGS TO NOT PLAY AT A WEDDING

Love the One You're With--CSNY
I'm in Love with a Stripper--T-Pain
P-I-M-P—50 Cent
You Give Love a Bad Name—Bon Jovi
Little Miss Can't be Wrong—Spin Doctors
I Kissed a Girl—Jill Sobule
Big Pimpin'--Jay-Z
The Waiting Is The Hardest Part—Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
She's Not the Cheatin' Kind—Brooks and Dunn
D-I-V-O-R-C-E—Tammy Wynette
White Trash Wedding—Dixie Chicks
Thunder Rolls—Garth Brooks
Girls--Beastie Boys
Momma's Got a Girlfriend Now—Ben Harper
Irreplaceable—Beyonce
Where Were You On Our Wedding Day—Billy Joel
Born to Run—Bruce Springsteen
Ready to Run—Dixie Chicks
Maneater—Hall and Oates
(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction—Rolling Stones
Careless Whisper—Wham!
Get Your Hands Off Of My Woman, Motherf-er—The Darkness
Strawberry Wine—Deana Carter
Tell Me Lies—Fleetwood Mac
99 Problems—Jay-Z
Angel of The Morning—Juice Newton
Gold Digger—Kayne West
Since U Been Gone—Kelly Clarkson
She's No Lady (She's My Wife)--Lyle Lovett
Papa Don't Preach—Madonna
Paradise By the Dashboard Light—Meatloaf
Billie Jean—Michael Jackson
U+Ur Hand—Pink
Love is a Battlefield—Pat Benatar
Break Free—Queen
You Can't Always Get What You Want—Rolling Stones
My Favorite Mistake—Sheryl Crow
What's Love Gotta Do With It—Tina Turner
Wake me Up Before You Go-Go—Wham!

Slow Progress

Well here it is, an ending of an era. I am officially no longer the proud owner of a MOAK (Mother of All Keys) at Windy Gap. I have no idea what 6:30am is going to look like on Monday but it will be an adjustment not grabbing that radio, those keys, that nametag and driving those 30 minutes; my quality time with NPR. I'm ready to leave, ready to not be in this holding pattern, but realizing I'm just moving on to do that elsewhere doesn't help much. I'm thankful to WG for the work, for the patience, the friendships and the lessons. I never quite fit in and most of the time I liked that. I'm really just going to miss the faces of friends. That consistency.

This past summer was a time of such promise for me, feeling sheer joy in potential. In jobs, friendships, relationships, the future, life in general, being in great shape. And I know potential is fickle, believe me, but this summer was the first time I ever actually entertained it. It was the first time I left my logic at home and let with my heart, and even where I am today I'm glad I did it. I lived differently if only for a short while. I don't know when or if I'll be able to do it again, but the simple notion that once in a while my mind is forced to relinquish control is a bit of hope for me. That's a slow progress.

How is potential detrimental to faith? Is it? Where do potential and faith cross—the making of ones own vague, idealistic plans in the face of eagerly seeking the will of God—and if they do cross, where is the compromise? Why are we made to hope so strongly when hope and faith often crash into each other?

Anyway, off to the beach in SC for a wknd away. Needed.

State of the Union

• Windy Gap offered me an extension so that I won't get and ulcer and I can get a *$(*&# job between now and the end of September. For this Windy Gap gets a big old sloppy kiss. Jenny Moffatt in particular. It's a metaphorical kiss Jenny, don't you worry. *$(*&# job could possibly get a knee to the groin or its own sloppy kiss depending on the outcome. Did you hear that, *$(*&# job? Yeah, the choice is yours.

• For a whole year I've been giggling at the fact that the company that makes the latches on several of the bathroom stalls at WG is called “HINEY HIDERS.” Yeah, you giggled too, didn't you?

• I talked to my sister yesterday, and by talked I mean for 38 minutes I listened to her talk to her three children while I watched my cell minutes rack up. We are so close in age, yet on such completely different planets. I wish we'd be at the same place again; I miss her.

• Today Caroline McGlade turns 30. Don't worry though, as long as she giggles at fart noises and makes up ridiculous songs, she's still a youngin'. With a nick-nack paddy whack.

• Last weekend Beth and Grafton were in town for their first anniversary and I realized the best way to show people Asheville is to have them eat their weight in as many kinds of food as possible. New Asheville slogan: “Weird Town, Now Shut Up and Go Eat There.” Also: Mimosas at Early Girl Eatery: Choice my friend. Choice.

• Speaking of Asheville, for Camden's birthday last week we had a party at the Skybar, a new spot in the Flat Iron building that is basically just martinis on their fire escape but it's on the 8^th floor and they have an elevator operator and a pretty view of the Grove Arcade and the sunset, so well done, Skybar. “This drink is the same price as 10 PBRs.”--Robin, always keeping it in perspective.

• I ran the lake zip yesterday and in two hours I had a total of 5 sets of rides. It was a chance to sit in quiet and pray and I needed it so badly. I love that I needed it; that's a change for me.

• Kelly Willis is coming to the Grey Eagle on September 27th, Erin McKeown is coming October 13th, and “Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me” is coming to the Diane Wortham Theatre on November 15th. Who's in?

• My iPod managed to erase itself randomly and at first I was really annoyed but now I'm sort of enjoying the fresh start of playlists and songs. An unwelcome clean slate but a clean slate nonetheless.

• I'm not sleeping again. I wake up five or six times a night; my mind won't shut up. That or I have to pee, but that's just cuz of my bum prostate.

• Trivia team names: Teen Wolf Blitzer or "Miss South Carolina Geography Squad"
  

Mosaic

I've been busy lately with things outside of work and I love it. Last week I spent Monday with friends who came out to camp to enjoy the nice weather with kids and dogs and then back to their house for a big dinner and games, then Tuesday I missed a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese b/c my nap turned into the previous post titled "Could", Wednesday was a impromptu trip to Greenville, SC for some BBQ at a place that ended up being closed (BAH!), Thursday was watching "Lost" online at Caroline's house before racing back to catch "Grey's" at Eva's. Friday was another big dinner night in West Asheville and talking with friends about nerdy topics and a sleepover. Saturday was a big breakfast, a great hike just off the Blue Ridge Parkway, a late lunch at the Bakery and "Waiting for Guffman" over freshly made pizza. Sunday church was such a refreshing experience and the lunch afterward went right along with the community. Sunday afternoon was time to rest, read and...wait, I have no recollection of yesterday. None. What did I do yesterday afternoon? Last night? I feel like the guy from "Memento" all of a sudden...

There are days when my life has the feeling of a mosaic; a collection of overlapping stories and punchlines: the poignant and the pugnacious, the preposterous and the petty. Sometimes I feel like all I am are stories. I simply tell them because they are mine, not because they free me or offer others any insight. I give them in place of me. Does that make sense? Instead of giving who I am I present stories.
I guess I'm thinking on how I define myself to others, both consciously and unconsciously, and how I'd ever learn to go about it differently.

Kitchen/Floation Devices

Ah...my last weekend in the kitchen. Sad, but I'm ready. Friday morning I tried an experiment and made bagels from scratch for the staff, and they were met with enthusiasm. It really is an insultingly easy thing to make and people are so impressed. And fresh bagels are like a little bit o' heaven. It's like a big ring of carb happiness. And then you add the cream cheese...

The kitchen staff took me out for Indian food for lunch and I think I ate my weight in chicken marsala and Naan. Got giant starbucks on the ride back to camp, with a stop at Mt. Sheeba, a very odd consignment project at a dilapidated school farther down Flat Creek. Mt. Sheeba is only open two days a week and it run by little old ladies and is somewhat overwhelming. It is labyrinthine, dusty, kitschy and absolutely wonderful. I found what could be the the steal of a century: a brand new Lotus Designs Rio PFD (basically the model before the Rio Serrano) for one dollar.
One.
That's a $124 discount.
Of course I do have to buy new foam for it so maybe it'll be a $100 discount total, but I mean, I'll take a $25 PFD anyday. Not that I need a new PFD but I could use a flatwater designed one. I can rationalize a $1 purchase anyday. Except maybe a $1 tattoo. Or haircut. Or botox. That I wouldn't trust. Mine is very old, faded, smelly and well loved (see photo with my dear Elena, before yet another paddling adventure down the Comptons section of the Shenandoah with the yearly HRA program). It used to be bright red; not so much anymore. It has a hole in the pocket from when I lived in a tent and a mouse wanted to get to a granola wrapper I'd left in it.
Most of the stuff I owned when living in a tent has holes in it from mice...I hate mice.


This is too long; I'll post another about Urban weekend here at the Gap. For a skinny white girl from cornfed VA it was a new and delightful experience.

(PFD: Personal Flotation Device of the Type III classification as dictated by the US Coast Guard. Used mostly for open water travels, as in flatwater, swiftwater and whitewater. Like a "life jacket" only more comfortable, less intrusive and prettier)