alphabet soup

Accent:

I am enchanted by accents.

Booze:

Yes, I drink it. I’m a fan of cosmopolitans, sidecars, gin and tonics, and a good, clean Stella or Grain Belt Premium.

Chore I Hate:

Getting the gross stuff out of the sink drain. Or shower drain. Cleaning the bathroom. Actually, I’m not a big fan of cleaning. This is why I’m hiring a cleaning lady.

Dog or Cat:

This isn’t a good time to ask – I’m mad at the dogs right now.

Essential Electronics:

Laptop. Mobile phone. iPod.

Favorite Cologne(s):

Lush’s Karma

Gold or Silver:

I think I’m more of a silver person, on my self, at home, etc.

Hometown:

Minneapolis. No, I haven’t strayed far. But I intend to.. someday.

Insomnia:

Only when I’m too worried to sleep. Happens way less often than it used to.

Job Title:

Consultant. Imaginative, no?

Kids:

1 little miss Paige, who is about to be 3, and who I could not live without.

Living arrangements:

My beloved and I own a 1920 1.5 story stucco house as close to Minneapolis as we could afford 6 years ago (4 blocks from Theo Wirth parkway). Said child, beloved, 2 dogs, cat and fish live here for the time being.

Most admirable trait:

The ability to manage about 20 different big undertakings at once.

Number of sexual partners:

Waaay less than the US average. Let’s leave it at that.

Overnight hospital stays:

Once when I almost killed myself racing my car. And one other time when I had my tonsils out.

Phobias:

Bugs. Drive-by shootings.

Quote:

Being with you is like walking alone on a very clear day – definitely the sense of belonging there. (e.b. white)

Religion:

I ascribe to Christianity. But I should wear a button that says, “ask me about my ongoing faith crisis.”

Siblings:

One: Becky.

Time I wake up:

6ish. Unless I’m sick or it’s the winter. Then… when the sun comes up.

Unusual talent or skill:

I can make inhuman shapes with my tongue.

Vegetable I refuse to eat:

Lima beans. Though if they are a bean, they aren’t really a vegetable.

Worst habit:

Taking on too much and not knowing when to say uncle. Biting my nails. Talking too loud. Avoiding conflict.

X-rays:

Not too many x–rays. There are a lot more ultrasounds in my life.

Yummy foods I make:

I am generally regarded as the best baker my friends and family know. Too bad sugar is poison to my body, huh…

Zodiac sign:

Capricorn.

6 things that aren't common knowledge

(modified from the original "6 things no one knows" because if you know me, you know that I'm a total open book.)

1) I am deathly afraid of most varieties of bugs. Irrational fears included getting stung by a bee (which I have never experienced) and waking up covered in ants (which I have also never experienced.)

2) I never knew my paternal grandfather. He was accidentally shot (the loaded gun went off as he was trying to retrieve it from the closet) when my dad was about 4 months old.

3) I have this metabolic disorder called PCOD which perpetuates weight gain, depression, and acne. Thankfully there is a little pill called Metformin which basically makes all those horrible symptoms just, go away.

4) I want more time to write – really write, stuff I love to write – in my life.

5) I used to think I could sing. But I actually think I really suck.

6) I’m just the slightest bit scared of what it will be like to be done with school, and how I am going to fill my time.

20 questions

1) The name you fantasized about having when you were a child was:

I really wanted to be Melody or Melanie. Who knows why.

2) What is your favorite thing to do on a rainy Saturday afternoon?

Listen to trip-hop and knit.

3) If you were to put in a request for your last meal, you would ask for:

Shrimp cocktail, The largest steak I could reasonably eat, fresh steamed asparagus, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, a really quality Caesar salad, and a tower of strawberry shortcake. I think.

4) What one quality most annoys you in a co-worker?

The inability to take responsibility for his or her own actions. And, stealing my ideas.

5) List the first 5 things you can remember doing this morning:

• Realizing that I was snuggling with Fred, not John
• Hearing the shower (then realizing there’d be no hot water for me)
• Rolling back into the covers
• Feel Fred jump out of the bed when John got out of the shower
• Squint at the alarm clock to decipher what time it was

6) Which of your features do you most like – and why?

I’m a pretty big fan of my green eyes. Mostly because not everyone has green eyes, and that’s sort of fun.

7) What makes you worry unnecessarily?

Stupid stuff – like carpenter ants and drive-by shootings and escaped sex offenders.

8) If you could go back to school to be anything (money and time aren’t factors here), what higher education/career would you pursue?

Either a writer (which is sort of a close call because I write for a living now), a Broadway actress, or an interior designer.

9) What is your preferred writing implement (pen, pencil, crayon.. be specific.)

Green flair pen. Or an Extra-fine Sharpie. Or a fountain pen.

10) The worst class/workshop/training I have ever attended was:

FISH! Philosophy. Good concept, beat to death with several sticks.

11) What’s your favorite tree?

I like the ginseng tree – isn’t that the one that loses all of its leaves one night in the fall? Otherwise, I’m sort of fond of birch trees because of their pretty bark.

12) Name the first friend you can remember making. Do you know what they are doing now?

Katie Copeland – I lived next door to her when my sister was born (so I think I was like 3 when we met). Have no idea where she is. Or where her super-cute brother ended up. Darn.

13) Are you on myspace?

Yup.

14) iPod or XM?

I’m an iPod girl, myself (and I loved them before EVERYONE had one, thank you very much.)

15) What did you ask for/want for Christmas (or your birthday if you don’t do Christmas) that you haven’t received?

Hrm…maybe a quilting-sewing machine?

16) I am currently obsessed with:

Getting my spring cleaning done and finishing spring semester.

17) Complete the sentence: When I have to go to the post office, I: _____.

Break out in a rash. Then, procrastinate ad nauseum.

18) What animal in nature do you think most closely resembles you?

I want to say a dog, but are they really “in nature”? Wild animal – maybe a loon.

19) How many emails do you think you read on an average weekday?

Fifty or so.

20) The one quality you strive to be on a regular basis is:

The champion of good relationships (is that a quality?)

Free Beer Movement

how I know there is poetic justice in the world

Michael Jackson, amongst his 1980 pop-prince spoils, bought the rights to many of the best Beatles (et al) songs.

Well, now that the pop-prince's empire has come crumbling down (he shut down neverland ranch, he moved to Bahrain, he's in hawk in a way that makes my student loans look like change between the couch cushions), he's reportedly selling them off to avoid bankruptcy.

I'm totally a child of the 80s, and while I have fond memories of Thriller... I just feel vindicated at this news (as in, I enjoyed the 80s as much as anyone else, but no one -- no one -- can claim to have more impact on modern rock and roll as much as the Beatles. I mean... come on!)

*Grins with the pleasureable thought of poetic justice*
(this news makes me giggle almost as much as the news of MC Hammer's "paid" entourage did...)

a lesson on not judging on outward appearances

I had resisted purchasing the much-acclaimed Arctic Monkeys album. Why? Because the artful expression of the band included a gigantic tribute to the cigarette (and unless I'm drinking HARD, I'm sort of against smoking.)

But I broke down (because it was on sale, and I have a hard time resisting things on sale...)

And now I am reminded: don't judge by covers. I know it's one of those CDs everyone is talking about or has. Whatever. It's popular for a reason: because it's stellar "let's get crazy" music. And they are a bunch of Brits. And we all know my achilles heel is a UK accent.

Buy it, and don't let the butts scare ya. 'Nuff said.

guiding competencies

I feel the need this morning to reiterate who I am, to put a stake in the ground and say, this is how I choose to live my life.

A while back -- perhaps early 2004? -- I evaluated my personal/professional values, and guided by the principles of Adlerian psychological theory and the tenets of career development I apply in Organizaiton Development/HRD, I created a list of my own guiding competencies:

Relationship Integrity

• Demonstrate respect to every person
• Practice social interest
• Treat each person equally
• Act with a sense of realism
• Speak with candor
• Invest in faith, family and friends
  

Lifelong Learning

• Champion education
• Pursue wisdom
• Be creative
• Search for innovations
  

Balance

• View life holistically
• Find beauty in the world
• Appreciate the variety in life
• Use a sense of humor
  

Contribution

• Maintain a strong sense of ownership
• Be actively involved
• Excel at each accomplishment
• Practice collaboration
• Pursue excellence daily
  

Elements of spring I have personally spotted thus far

1) Cleaned up dog waste in yard. A nasty job after a winterlong hiatus... but it's done!
2) Robin in the black walnut tree.
3) Buds on the lilac bushes.
4) The tornado sirens just went off (test: it's the first Wednesday of the month).
5) If I leave the windows open all day, it's too cold when I get home. If I leave them closed, it's a hothouse at the end of the day.
6) The stacks of "stuff ARC needs to pick up" are growing by leaps and bounds.
7) Paige and I planted bulbs in the back garden this weekend.
8) The cat is OBSESSED with finding an open window he can lounge in.
9) Paige won't go to bed on time (damn you, daylight savings time!)
10) Washed car without fear of immediate "road sludge" contaminating it.
11) I want to be outside. All. The. Time.
12) I am searching (in vain) for cropped pants I can wear to work that don't look like jammie pants.
13) Crocuses are almost done; daffodils and hyacinths are on their way out.
14) Panic! I haven't bought a thing for Easter baskets yet.
15) Dogs are shedding at a ridiculous pace.
16) I cannot keep up with the muddy foot and pawprints in the kitchen.

in other sports news...

I have had a complete 180 conversion on the topic of running.

For the first quarter-century or so of my time on this planet, I have abhorred running (seriously, if you ever get 5 minutes, ask me about the time I tried to get out of running the mile in the 5th grade by dropping my tuba on my leg... it didn't work, by the way, but I still have a nice dent in my shin...) and would have told anyone that the only way you would have caught me running is if I was being chased.

However... in my adult world where there's work and kids and marriage and laundry and bills and general stress and anxiety... running is a haven, and I love it.
Watching the sun set over the course of my run yesterday, I remembered that my aunt took up running after she had her 5th child... insisted on it... stuck up for her running time each day at basically any cost... and at the time, I thought that was a little strange, with all the work she must have to do with 5 kids and all that stuff (she's a better woman than I am for tackling a family that size...) but whatever -- it takes all kinds, and maybe it was just a phase for her.
But she ended up running at least 1 marathon, not to mention looking AMAZING after 5 children... (I mean, I haven't given birth to anything and don't look that good)... and to the best of my knowledge, she's still running even though the youngest is like, 6ish now?

I so get it now.

My run is my half-hour. I listen to the music I want. As loud as I want it. I go where I want. I'm alone. Aside from the blaring music, it is utterly peaceful and quiet. So I can think about the stuff my brain gets too cluttered up to deal with otherwise.
And there's something torturously cathartic about pushing your body past the pain... about challenging yourself to another block, keeping up the pace for one more house. There's solace in the fact that I have to concentrate on really, really basic things - like breathing, pulse, the blood and oxygen moving through my muscles. Like quality time for me and my hypothalamus.

So last night's 3-mile run (jog... I'm not a sprinter, and I don't think I ever will be... not built that way. This northern european DNA was built for endurance, not speed...) made me decide that I want to do a half-marathon next fall. That gives me about a year and a half to train... and honestly, that seems crazy, when looking through the lens that I have publicly proclaimed my hate of running... but whatever, right?

I've changed my answer. Running is good. And cheaper than the spa.

a philosophy of living

try to learn something about everything and everything about something.
(thomas h. huxley)

milestone

You know that you've settled into your new job when...

You zone our your entire commute through exoburbia, not noticing a single landmark.
Then, as you turn into your place of employment, you realize that your brain spent the last 10 minutes in a different dimension than your body. And it dawns on you that this route to work has been novel for the past 4 months but suddenly is just one more habit.

the negotiator

Have I mentioned lately that I'm pretty sure my charming, delightful daughter is so going to be a diplomat or lawyer when she grows up?

OK... she's not quite 3, so maybe it's a little early to start making predictions of this nature (at 4, I wanted to be the first artist in space... don't you think modern art from the moon would just sell like hotcakes?). That being said, let me explain her aptitudes and skills at this ripe age:

1) Generally speaking (and I'm doing my best to not say this from a "she's my kid and I'm inherently biased" position), she's a charming little ham. I cannot remember the last time we went to the store when I didn't get some comment about, "well, isn't she smart as a whip/cute as a button/a little pistol/adorable/some variation thereof".
2) She has no natural fear of others. Perhaps this is because we tried very hard to help her be comfortable in a variety of social settings from infancy onward... so in retrospect, I may indeed have created a monster. But she is completely comfortable going up to a stranger, or the police officer who pulled me over Friday night, and saying, "This is my mommy. Her name's Sarah. You be nice to my mommy."
3) The child has a memory like a bear trap. I (feebly) attempted to bribe her to take a nap yesterday with the promise of the park afterward. Shouldn't the nap erase that memory? Nuh-uh. She held me to it like it was a biblical covenant.
4) She has the uncanny ability to negotiate by simply throwing the rules of logic out the window and being terrifically persistent. For instance, right now Paige gets a dum-dum sucker everytime she USES (not just attempts) the potty (yes, my life has been reduced to the lowest-common-denominator). Yesterday afternoon, she attempted to reason with me that IF she got the dum-dum sucker first, she would FOR SURE use the big girl potty. And persisted along this line of argument for about 20 minutes (which is more than the attention span she has for most cartoons.)

My greatest acheivement -- and the thing I will probably look back and beat my head on the wall for when she's 14 -- is raising an independent thinker who relentlessly pursues her goals.

On the bright side, only 15 more years til college... (at which time I'll just be crossing my fingers and worrying).

scathing, but oftentimes... the truth does hurt.

Crocus

I defied this year's wintry March and took a run for lunch today.

It was amazing -- I have more running stamina than I thought, getting to the gym this winter definitely helped that. I tfor about 2 miles total -- something I wasn't even physically able to do a year and a half ago, even if it took me about 45 minutes to do it.

Only downside: I biffed on the ice and have a total "I fell off my bike" scrape on my right knee (which is why I don't go out in the winter). But I'm sick of not being able to enjoy being outside... so I'll suck it up.

And, on my way out of the yard, I noticed that I have 2 crocuses poking up in the south garden. Even though there's probably still 4-6 inches of snow in the yard. I am totally relating to their defiant cry as they fight their way through snow and sub-freezing temps. For the love of God, it's spring! Let's get on with the melt already!

a little puzzle about womanhood

So we recently did the annual "whoo-hoo, we're Irish" all-day pilgrimage to The Local. Beer, fish and chips, more beer... it's all good.

Except that I ran into the most perplexing display in the ladies' room. Like last year, the line for the women's restroom during the evening hours was inexplicably long. And, frankly, irritating when you've been consuming malt liquor all evening. So I FINALLY get in there and frantically do my thing... and I come out to wash my hands to see these two women, obviously eeking past what you would call middle-life, and even more obviously siliconed, botoxed, lifted, nipped and tucked to the nines. Whatever -- it takes all kinds.

But still -- while I wouldn't necessarily cosmetically augment myself til I was more chemical than organic parts -- there was more wrong with the situation then a silicone butt and permasmile.
1) These women were dressed as if they were underage. Like... things I would only see in the halls of a high school. They looked like idiots. Even if they were "I-had-my-stomach-stapled-even-though-there-was-no-medical-reason" skinny.

2) They were blocking the sinks where the rest of us, focused on peeing, then getting back to drinking, were attempting (feebly) to navigate around them so we could practice basic hygeine. And they didn't seem to notice they were in the way. Or singlehandedly testing everyone's bladder strength.

3) These women weren't even WASHING... they were trying to (in a very drunk manner, might I add) put on each other's lipliner. Now, I do OWN 1 lipliner... I wear it when I know I'm going to have my photo taken, or when I'm going for a job interview... and I wore it when I got married. But for St. Patrick's Day? It's going to come off about 4.3 seconds after you put your lips to your drink. And honestly -- the entire bar was too drunk to notice whether or not you are wearing LIP LINER. Give me, and the rest of womankind, a break.

4) Finally... these women were so drunk, so out of it, that they weren't even putting on their unnecessary lipliner in an orderly fashion. They both walked out of the ladies' room (finally) looking strangely like the Joker from a late 80s Batman flick.
Which, honestly... was some sort of strange poetic justice.

urban wanderlust

there's something enchanting me
in each brick I pass
in this close proximity
in a place close enough to feel familiarly like home
and far enough away to allow a lifetime of discovery.

my soul knows
that any city is home
as long as there are lights
and theaters
and millions of people
who frequent the tiny corner restaraunts.

so I am comforted
by the sounds my heels make as they plod along pavement, syncopating idling engines, rhythmic in accompaniment to the melodic hum cities make.
and there is contentment in the bubbling conversation of passers-by, in each nameless face that walks past me on the street.
Home is where the people are
at least for me.

four of...

Four jobs you have had in your life:
1. Consultant, Carlson Companies, Plymouth
2. Instructional Designer, Metris, Minnetonka
3. Employment Specialist, JVS, Minneapolis
4. Training/Web Development Specialist, Target, Minneapolis

Four movies you would watch over and over:
1. White Christmas
2. Shrek
3. The Sound of Music
4. Braveheart

Four places you have lived:
1. Robbinsdale MN
2. Elbow Lake MN
3. Columbia Heights MN
4. St Paul MN

Four TV shows you love to watch:
1. CSI (any of them)
2. Really…everything else I watch is 3-year-old centric…
3.
4.

Four places you have been on vacation:
1. Chicago
2. New York City
3. Oregon Coast
4. Florida

Four websites I visit daily:
1. gmail
2. bloglines
3. work intranet
4. blogger

Four of my favorite foods:
1. crab legs
2. asparagus
3. A salad I didn’t have to prepare
4. Propel water

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. New York
2. St. Lucia
3. The cabin in mid-July
4. Backpacking through Europe

In Like a Lamb

It's March 2nd.
And I think I'm in heaven.

Let me tell you how my life changes when I get my first whiff of spring:

• The sun rises at a reasonable hour. I do my best pre-10AM and post-8PM. This morning, it was light (which means, I was awake) at 6:30AM. Just a few more days, and I'll be able to rise with the sun and start jogging again (an activity I adore -- it's my own personal meditation space -- but I refuse to go out in a bitterly cold, pitch-black morning.)
• I'm all itchy to be outside. After getting a client deliverable out the door early this week (putting in some long hours Monday and Tuesday), I rewarded myself with a long lunch toay. Me, the iPod and my legs went on our official 1st jog of the season. It was an hour of pure bliss (although, I can already tell my legs aren't going to be saying that in the morning. The price I pay for letting my muscles atrophy all winter, I guess.)
• I cannot seem to stop thinking about my garden. I planned the whole lot last night. I ordered my seeds this morning. I want to get my hands dirty, I want to turn spades of loamy earth and watch intently as the seedlings I nursed from seeds germinated in the sunroom take root and stretch their green limbs skyward.
• I start planning vacations, birthday parties, and a new wardrobe. And let's not forget Easter. I have so much sewing (Easter dresses) and scrapbooking (Paige's 3rd birthday party) and... yay.

I feel re-born every spring, every time I watch my little corner of the earth renew itself. I relish the hints of warmth in the air, I luxuriate in the cool shadows and warming sunbeams. I wait and anticipate and watch intently as the world around me throws off its blanket of snow and wakes from winter's drowsy spell.

my new favorite toy is...

my tiny little opinion on Wal-Mart

Wal-mart at least feigns to do right by their employees and loosen health care restrictions.
Part of me is happy.
Another part of me is enormously suspicious...

My very own Johari window

Arena (known to self and others) bold, intelligent, spontaneous	Blind Spot (known only to others) accepting, complex, dependable, friendly, helpful, independent, knowledgeable, loving, mature, patient, reflective, responsive, searching, self-assertive, sympathetic, trustworthy, warm, wise
Façade (known only to self) adaptable, ingenious, witty	Unknown (known to nobody) able, brave, calm, caring, cheerful, clever, confident, dignified, energetic, extroverted, giving, happy, idealistic, introverted, kind, logical, modest, nervous, observant, organised, powerful, proud, quiet, relaxed, religious, self-conscious, sensible, sentimental, shy, silly, tense

All Percentages

able (0%) accepting (50%) adaptable (0%) bold (33%) brave (0%) calm (0%) caring (0%) cheerful (0%) clever (0%) complex (50%) confident (0%) dependable (33%) dignified (0%) energetic (0%) extroverted (0%) friendly (16%) giving (0%) happy (0%) helpful (16%) idealistic (0%) independent (16%) ingenious (0%) intelligent (50%) introverted (0%) kind (0%) knowledgeable (16%) logical (0%) loving (33%) mature (16%) modest (0%) nervous (0%) observant (0%) organised (0%) patient (16%) powerful (0%) proud (0%) quiet (0%) reflective (33%) relaxed (0%) religious (0%) responsive (33%) searching (16%) self-assertive (16%) self-conscious (0%) sensible (0%) sentimental (0%) shy (0%) silly (0%) spontaneous (16%) sympathetic (16%) tense (0%) trustworthy (33%) warm (16%) wise (16%) witty (0%)

Created by the Interactive Johari Window on 21.2.2006, using data from 6 respondents.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view sarahgh's full data.

Aren't there better things for our lawmakers to be doing?

On my daily lunch perusal of the Star Tribune, I came across this article which sort of makes me want to run through the corridors of our state capital head-butting certain state lawmakers.

Basically, some farm-boy dipshit from Marshall has passedthis law targeting MPR -- saying that they cannot have a particular funding grant unless they disclose the salaries of certain employees. MPR is standing their ground, saying that they already disclose salaries as IRS regulations dictate -- and shouldn't that be enough?

So, as a taxpayer and lifelong resident of this state, I have to say: what the f_ck?

1) Whether or not you like it, Mr. Republican-pants, the state gives away a LOT of money to FOR-PROFIT organizations who ridiculously overcompensate their top-level employees. Believe you me... I work in the for-profit sector in this state. People everywhere make PLENTY of money.

2) MPR doesn't rely on soullessmoney-grubbing advertisers to stay afloat; they are instead funded in large part by their membership base (myself, my husband, and several close friends included...). By the way -- those members? Citizens of the state. Don't you think we'd pipe up if we thought our money (dontations!) was going to inappropriate uses?

3) I seem to remember the state being sortof a crappy watchdog for non-profit misappropriation of taxpayer funds in the first place -- didn't some massive insurance companies just get in trouble not so long ago? Wasn't it our state's Attorney General who nailed that little conspiracy? I'm not too trusting here.

4) Has anyone compared what the for-profit radio station execs make compared to the non-profit? Just a guess, but I'd stake money and reputation that there's a wide chasm between what the head of MPR makes and what the head of Cities 97 puts in the bank.

5) Hey, has anyone asked the EMPLOYEES how they feel about having the world know their take-home pay? I'm sorry... If I wanted someone to know how much I made (profit, nonprofit, whatever...) I'd let them know. I'm pretty much an open book... but come on, there are some things that need to remain private.

Honestly: when it all boils down to it, we're bickering about less thant $400,000. Now, that IS a lot of dough, certainly more than I see in any given decade... that being said: MPR's salaries paid and $400,000... is this really the most pressing issue this numnuts from outstate has to deal with? I wonder, does the burgeoning meth problem in this state keep him up at night? How about the farmers who are starving and going bankrupt in his consituency (remember, I spent some serious hard time outstate in a previous life...)? What about the report that came out yesterday that said low-income families in our state are spending 28% of their income on childcare, on average, often sacrificing the safety of their children to cut childcare corners (due in large part to Pawlenty's 2003 childcare budget cuts)? What about the shrinking education budgets? Roads in dire need of repair? If you want to be revolutionary, then let's focus on mass transit, if you really need to get involved in what us city folk care about.

How about this, idiot: Drop your personal vendetta, go back to Marshall, ask your consituents what they are really concerned about, come back to the Capitol with a REAL agenda... and in the meantime, let MPR be. I would guess that MPR is really low on the "what we'd like to see happen at the Capitol in 2006" list of southern Minnesotan residents.

*Dismounts Soapbox*

redline

I don't have a ton of time to post today -- deadlines at work, unfinished homework, doctor's appointments every day this week. I just want to take this redline moment to remind myself of a few things:

1) The Garden State soundtrack can calm me down in very nearly any situation.
2) It's totally OK to eat a cheeseburger at 10:30 in the morning if you are hungry.
3) Don't ever -- EVER -- give me too much time to think, or I will inherently overthink it.
4) I have wonderful, amazing friends who are thoughtful, considerate, and love me. Yay!
5) Everyone gets crabby -- even almost-3-year-olds. And it's OK, and it passes.
6) Karma is alive and well. Glad today, I'm on the good end.
7) There's a tired even dark roast won't fix.
8) 10 minutes in the dark with a sad CD can do amazing things for your mental health.
9) I am so thankful that my job allows me to sit when I need to, flex my life when I need to, and write even when I feel stuck.
10) Eventually, I'm getting out of the country this year (yay).

Why I'm glad I am now an outsider in the world of retail

A recent story in the Star Tribune details how retails are suing the state of Maryland after their legistlature passed a law that would mandate large corporations (AKA Wal-mart et al) to afford health insurance coverage to their employees.

I'm sorry, but how socially irresponsible do these companies want to appear when they are suing the very governments who are attempting to look after the best interests of their constituents (and tax dollars -- those who work but aren't covered for medical insurance through their employer most often fall on taxpayers as a state or federal medicaid burden, right?) Honestly... health care is expensive. We live in America, where this stuff isn't socialized... its a part of doing (good, ethical) business... a practice in which Wal-Mart & co. is obviously not interested in engaging.

This is maddening to me in every sense of the word. At a time in my life when, in my master's program, all the articles and books I read tout how "companies who want a competitive edge need to realize that their people are their most important asset."
Why, then, does the giganto-retail industry not see that? I worked retail in varying aspects for many years. I have full knowledge and recognition that without the down-on-his luck guy with a couple of kids who pushes the carts back into the store, the immigrant woman restocking toothbrushes, and the teenagers unloading the trucks, those stores don't run. Customers get real pissed off. That spells lower profits. Now we're talking a language these corporate buffoons might understand.

This is a shameful time for me to say that I once thought I could make an impact in the retail industry -- that I could change that corporate infrastructure, could help these massive industry giants see the error of not valuing even the most miniscule contribution at the store level. But the absolute disregard of concern toward health care in the recent past is staggering to me. It absolutely blows my mind.

My only hope is that, as the 21st century rolls on the nature of our business culture ebbs out of a process economy and flows into a knowledge economy, grassroots initiatives, smart legislation, and external change agents like my peers and I can affect the kinds of change so desperately needed in the retail giant so ripe to be deflated.

A Beautiful Insult

As I walked out of the grocer's last night, I was confronted by the most beautiful insult: after a month-long warming trend (in January, in Minneapolis...), massive, fluffy, perfect snowflakes, like spoonfuls of whipped cream with peaks coated in powdered sugar, floated to the ground at a brisk pace, chasing this historically balmy January away.

It was ridiculously beautiful as I drove home -- and I'm not one for the drive from the store to home -- but honestly! These giant snowflakes plopped themselves carelessly on my car like someone, somewhere, was making miniature snowballs and tossing them over their shoulder in hopes that it would hit something with a right good smack.

I found myself admiring the beauty in winter in spite of my impending springtime restlessness. At no other time in the year does the world become so pristine, hushed, and at equilibrium than during a late-evening snow.

It also reminded me that those perfectly round dollops of snow drifting in around my coat and scarf, dancing on my eyelashes, frosting the bare branches of the black walnut sprawling naked in the backyard -- that's the reason I just cannot live without seasons. Apologies to my daydreams of tulips, but I think I have found a little more romance in winter, in spite of myself.

10 things I find luxurious

Paper Source
The time to paint my toenails at home, with a basecoat and topcoat
Anything bought at Lush
Berries with fresh cream
Getting my groceries bagged
The days John fills my car with gas so I don't have to
RealSimple
Cashmere-lined leather gloves on winter mornings
Crabtree & Evelyn hand cream
A new fountain pen, notebook, and set of highlighters for a new semester

Honored, Humbled, Horrified

Last night when I was working out, I was asked join a weight-loss class offered by my gym next Wednesday, to share the story of my health journey -- my secrets to eating right, working out, and losing 48 pounds.

ME!

Completely humbled, I accepted. I am absolutely honored to think that I am an inspiration to any other woman embroiled in the struggle with her own body. Yet as I noodled this, a sense of horror crept through me. 1) I'm not "there". I have 39 pounds left to go to get to MY goal (and not even the goal the doctor would probably set for me.) 2) I'm horrified that there are so many facets to this problem for women:

• advertising images
• the celebrity standards to which we hold ourselves
• the female competitive factor
• the barbie mentality
• the physical characterstics of being a woman (especially if you are a woman who has children)

That environment makes a mental model of a healthy woman nearly impossible to conceive. The BMI and recommended weight ranges doctors tout don't make sense. I have just lost 48 pounds, and according to the CDC, I am still OBSESE. I should weigh between 107-145 pounds for my height. Broad as it may be, the last time I fell within that range, I was still trying to figure out the combination to my 6th grade locker.

Fact: women are built really differently.

Consider this: When I carried 30 more pounds on my body, I wore the same size as 2 friends who were 15 and 35 pounds lighter than me, and 3 and 6 inches taller than me, respectively. 48 pounds later, I now am a comparative weight to one of those friends, and again, wear 2-3 sizes smaller.

So... that means I am a heavy freak of nature? I'm incredibly tone? Those broad-boned Scottish genes have doomed me to not ever, ever fit into the "ideal" weight range chart?

All that anecdotal evidence for this point: for me, losing weight, eating right, exercising... none of it is about being the next Nicole Kidman. None of it is about getting to be a size 4 (by the way, I went from a size 16 girls in the 4th grade to a size 6 misses in the 5th grade, and I really don't anticipate ever looking like an elementary-school pubescent girl again...). What this journey is about, is making peace with this body, about loving me enough as a size 14, a size 12, whatever I end up being, to take care of myself by eating right and exercising and etc. -- and about being healthy and happy and giving this home for my soul a chance at longevity.

So I think this is what I need to tell the women of Curves next week: you can do this... it is an amazing journey to a part of yourself you never thought existed.

But do it for the right reasons: because you love yourself enough to be true to the amazing, beautiful, uniquely perfect woman who lives inside you... whether she's a size 14 or a 4.

no better birthday present

some may know this, and some may not -- but I have spent the better part of the last 6 months embroiled in a world of discovery about my own body. With the diagnosis of a metabolic disorder that links to very nearly every other health problem I have encountered, I have been piecing together how this body I live in works, what makes it tick, what it likes, doesn't like, etc. It's been an amazing journey; I was just thinking last night how bizarre it is to be 27 years old and just now discovering the physical place where my mind and soul reside.

Part of this discovery have been about discovering health: eating the right kinds of foods, making peace with my body shape, discovering the joy in exercise, finding who I am as a healthy person (now that my blood sugar and metabolism have been brought within normal levels of human functioning, this is a much easier journey...)

The birthday present on my scale this morning was the best I could ever ask for. It was a weight I hadn't seen since my freshman year in college. I put on pants today that I haven't been able to wear since I was 18 years old -- 9 years ago.

I'm not there yet... I have 39 more pounds to go. But leaving 48 pounds in my 26th year, and looking forward to a future that is at peace with a healthy, regulated, cared-for body... there is no better birthday present.

reasons I might be done with winter

1) I'm feeling a little edgy about the weather. "Why is it so cold every morning?..." even though it's 30 degrees all day long and it hasn't snowed in weeks and we haven't seen sub-zero since early December, and I haven't even had to scrape frost off my car in well over a week.

2) The melting snow in the backyard has inched away from the house enough to reveal some dormant grass and garden. and I sooo want to be out there planting stuff right now.

3) I started thinking about my flip-flops when I went to the spa this weekend and saw women getting pedicures. Now I cannot stop thinking about sandals.

4) We have this atrium thing at my office, where there is a hug skylight and plants and people go out there to meet or talk on their cell phones or whatever (it's a great little place). Anyway, the plant guy was out there watering the plants, and the gentle rushing of the water over the broadleaf plants made me want to look up airline fares to Florida.

5) Barbara told me that she got some thorough cleaning done this weekend. So I started a spreadsheet of what I want to do when I can spring clean.

We still seek social justice

Segregation is the adultery of an illicit intercourse between injustice and immorality.

Martin Luther King Jr. (1929 - 1968)

Why we don't use Google as a crystal ball

From a recent post on a friend's mySpace:

"Find out how you end your life, the Google way. Go to Google, type "(your name) was killed by" and see what the end of life holds in store for you. Remember to use the quotations marks, else it won’t work."

The options if you are me:

Sarah was killed by a drunk driver (I knew there was a reason John wanted me home before last call...)

Sarah was killed by a hit-and-run accident on the day that she was supposed to re-marry Bo (wait, when did I marry Bo the first time?)

Sarah was killed by a train in Japan at the age of 23 (hrm... that makes my 27th birthday celebration at the end of the month less meaningful, doesn't it...)

Sarah was killed by a traumatic head injury (from repeatedly beating my head against the wall in a vain attempt to understand this modern democracy, no doubt.)

Sarah was killed by Indians, July 18, 1692 (ouch.)

Sarah was killed by “friendly fire” in a cafeteria shoot out (the real question is, was is the canned peas or the heavy-syrup peaches that did me in?)

Sarah was killed by train in Boston (mommy.)

Sarah was killed by the Germans during the September 1941 mass shooting action in Eisiskes (and they said the Holocaust never happened...)

Sarah was killed by a steetcar in Santa Anna, California where she was living with her son, Arthur Tucker Young in August3, 1926 (lordy. I must have been hitting the whiskey when I named my son THAT...)

Sarah was killed by another redhead member, Jezebel (this is my personal favorite)

Sarah was killed by a terror organization (blah blah blah, homeland security... first you confiscate my plastic knitting needles and now this...)

Sarah was killed by the kick of a horse (How hard does the horse kick you, and where, before it kills you?)

Sarah was killed by her brother Benjamin (but I don't HAVE a brother...)

Sarah was killed by the very man that killed her sister (that BASTARD!)

Sarah was killed by his cousin, who committed suicide shortly after the crime (serves him right)

Sarah was killed by bushwhackers (#2 on the list, because it says bushwhackers)

Sarah was killed by a convicted pedophile (I told you we needed to move to a safer neighborhood, honey...)

Sarah was killed by a trolley in 1900 (again, someone explain to me the logistics of trolley-slaughter)

Sarah was killed by her father in April 2000 (my God, my whole family is out to get me!)

Sarah was killed by one of the most annoying and stupid Vampires I've ever seen (giggle)

Sarah was killed by her own MOMMY dearest! (Told you so.)

Sarah was killed by a speeding driver who attempted to run a light (Jerk!)

Sarah was killed by electrocution (I threw caution to the wind, ignored the warning label, and blow-dried my hair in the bathtub)

Sarah was killed by her male relatives for loving Rebecka (Good grief! I should have run away from home... my mom, my dad, my brother, his cousin, my male relatives...)

Sarah was killed by the Marauder named Mercury (Not sure what that means, but nice alliteration)

some stuff I said today

I think it's totally ok to give the middle finger to the world in a non-classy moment of anger at current circumstances.

You (and I, and the rest of the world) are just humans, wandering around, trying to be good when we remember, and trying to love people when we feel like it, and trying to make sense of a world that we deep down, really, really want to be master of, but in reality, is hugely and infinitely out of our control. So I think it's completely natural to have perspective one moment and to have a temper tantrum and a brownie in the next.

Be forewarned: if you ever decide to give the perma-finger to the world, the process, the journey (and I'm a little paranoid because I know and love people who have), I'm going to be on you about that. I don't ever set out to be Pollyanna (God help me), but I do set out to always find the deeper purpose in trial... because I guess it's my personal belief that we just don't ever go through trial for the sake of hardship.

[jumps off soapbox]

In all my spare time...

50 things I have yet to try with my iPod.

The indie yuppie

The New Yuppie.

oh. my. god.
It's me.

a new toy

Pandora

Music Match meets iTunes meets Amazon meets streaming audio service. Umm, free! Customizable! Intuitively designed for the web!

I sing its lauds. Perhaps I'm the last person on earth to know about it, but there you have it, folks. My favorite new toy.

a lesson learned

There's something about crying a loved one's tears with them that transcends humanity.

Soundtrack: 2005

in no particular order, the songs that 2005 attaches memory and meaning to:

Feel Good Inc. (Gorillaz)
a) whoever picks out the iPod commercial background music knows their marketing shit. Because I'm totally their niche. And I'm buying. Shoot, all that long-windedness about resisting materialism... out the window.
b) seriously, a cartoon band? I love the 21st century. My remaining question: do the cartoon band member get to go through angst and rehab and bad relationships, too?

Pump It (Black Eyed Peas)
Another song a commercial (Best Buy) introduced me to, about which I have consequently obsessed. I love the fact that some 60s guitar and mariache thing (think Wipeout) is happening on the background of this song while the Black Eyed Peas (who, yah I know, not indie rock, not even really my style, but I cannot help myself... they make me want to dance) do their thang. Hey, it's a great song to walk the dogs to, run to, work out to. What can I say? I'm only human.

Do You Want To (Franz Ferdinand)
God, I love Franz Ferdinand. I know that most 15-year-olds feel the same way. But that boum-boum-twang guitar thing, that catchy drum riff, the obvious early Beatles influence, that incredibly sexy Scottish accent... you know I cannot resist the BritPop. Guilty pleasures.

Stay (Blue Merle)
OK, guilty pleasures aside (for the time being), let's talk about good songwriting. And an amazing emotional conveyance that sends chills up my arms. I love Luke Reynold's voice. He makes me want to fall in love again and again til it hurts.

It's a Disaster (OK Go)
OK Go is one of my all-time favorite things from Chicago (Nordlund's and Fado being a couple of the other things...) John and I saw OK Go for the first time early this summer when they opened for Kaiser Chiefs. Their music is 100% pop-punk (just the way I like it). But what I really love about these guys: their performances. This band has a quirky, crazy, energy-laden stage presence like nothing duplicated out there (check their website for the crazy dancing skills these boys have perfected). I'd take my grandma to OK Go. I'd take my 2-year-0ld. I'd take anyone who'd allow me to drag them along. Long live OK Go.

Blow it Out (The Features)
Paige and I were driving home from work and day care one day when this song started playing on the radio. My perfect, darling, awesome little girl started dancing in her carseat, banging that blonde little head, looked me straight in the face, and said, "Mama, good song."

I have a 2-year-old rock and roll fan on my hands. Not precisely sure what I did right in life to deserve that perfect little package. But I'll TOTALLY take it.

Dirty Little Secret (All-American Rejects)
I love when friends introduce me to a genre that wasn't even on the radar (you rock, Keith and Sarah). Suddenly, I realize I have about 10 CDs that fall under what I would call pop-punk with a jaded attitude. I love this, the title track to All-American Rejects latest release. It's representative of their music, fun to sing, and the guitar absolutely sings and snarls in turn.

Get Myself Arrested (Gomez)
This particular song, while neither new to 2005 or to my repertoire this year, has an inside loop meaning on several levels and has been played at appropriate funny story, near-miss moments (for friends, not myself... of course...)

That, and I saw Gomez live for the first time this year. Cake headlined the concert, and while I love Cake (Chris and the boys make it on the list a little later, I promise), Gomez transcends genre and tastes to just be an all-star rock band. If you haven't picked up their live release, Out West, from early this year... get on it! The only thing better than Gomez on CD is Gomez live. And since these boys don't have any plans for heading back to the states in the next month or so (that I have seen), the live CD is as close are you are going to get.

An Honest Mistake (The Bravery)
Maybe it's because I am a child of the 1970s. I don't really know why, but something about disco-inspired music makes me involuntarily do that Night at the Roxbury thing with my head.

That leading into my favorite "new band", The Bravery. Yes, I know that they'll probably lose luster as fast as the Killers did for me this year (note: the Killers are the only band who didn't make it on this list in 2005 whose show I went to see this year -- it sucked that bad...) But you know what? Sometimes short-lived crushes are totally the most fun.

Sari (Nellie McKay)
Nellie McKay is no stranger on my best of/favorites list (she was on last year's mix too...), and in fact, she's probably my very favorite female artist at the moment. I got her first CD, Get Away From Me, for my birthday last year... and I've been in love ever since. I have had a whole year to memorize all 18 songs on the 2-disc release, and Sari is hands-down my favorite (as well as often representative of my experiences as a 20-something career woman, mother, wife, alternative-girl, liberal, forward-thinking, intellectual, urban dweller.)

In related years, mark your calendars for the first Tuesday of the new year, when Nellie McKay's next CD, Pretty Little Head, hits stores. To quote a certain blonde I know, "I so 'cited, I scream!"

(I Am) What I Am Not (Idlewild)
Idlewild is my "Crikey, what rock have I been living under?" band of 2005. On a whim (and mostly because I'd rather chill with friends than idol worship a big-named band from afar), I scalped my U2 tickets in September and instead dumped the profits into dinner and the Idlewild show at First Ave. Best decision I made all year. Seriously, Idlewild (by the way, another Scottish band... do you sense a theme here?) put on an amazing show, poked some good-natured fun at "the big show going on next store" and rocked the venue. (I Am) What I Am Not is off an older album, but it's the first album I have, and a great tune.

L.S.F. (Kasabian)
Hey, look, another band I was starting to dig on at the end of last year. Except that I haven't heard anything about Kasabian since about May, which I find a little disheartening. Kasabian's music is unclassifiable (in my world), but is a unique sound that makes me want to dance, drink a beer, and scream lyrics in turn. Their self-titled album gets the "Best album to clean house to" stamp from me. The hardest part of putting Kasabian on this list was choosing just one song.

Filthy/Gorgeous (Scissor Sisters)
OK, OK... I promise I'll find entirely new bands to talk about next year. Honestly, Scissor Sisters is another group that seemed to have one hit (Take Your Mama) and disappear. However, one track from their self-titled debut, Filthy/Gorgeous, singlehandedly takes #1 most played on my iTunes. 23 times. Oh, and I just got my play counter working in September. If I want to go out, get pretty, start a party, dance by myself, feel beautiful, or get into mischief, this is my theme song. Take a listen sometime and see if you can stop yourself from dancing.

Everyday I Love You Less and Less (Kaiser Chiefs)
Kaiser Chiefs hit airwaves this spring (can you guess? They jumped the pond... a bunch of football hooligans from Leeds...) and I fell in love. Surprisingly, when they hit First Ave this spring, not nearly as many people were in love with them as I was, and so I was able to treat John to a first-rate rock concert (his first... imagine that, only being 26 and all... OK Go also played this show... double my pleasure, double my fun!). Now, Everyday I Love You Less and Less isn't their big radio hit, but since I've memorized the CD by now, I feel safe saying that it's my favorite (mostly because it's the cheekiest of the lot.) They are touring Japan and Europe this spring -- but when are they getting back into the studio for a new album???

Carbon Monoxide (Cake)
"Too much carbon monoxide for me to bear..." A single wailed line announces the beginning of this overlooked Cake tune. Maybe best known for The Distance, Cake really isn't at all about racing cars, but about just being plain nonconformist. Gotta love that. And gotta love this song about traffic and expensive cars and urban sprawl. Go on with your bad selves, boys. I love ya.

Hell Yes (Beck)
I didn't manage to go see Beck when he was here (John hates him, and there were approximately 286,000 good shows in town over about 12 days in September), but I really love some of the stuff on Guero, his latest album. Especially Hell Yes. It sort of throws back to Where It's At, but it's got more attitude. Anytime I needed a dose of anti-establishment this year, I turned to this song. Bonus: it's got a decent beat, so it also played double duty when I needed bitterly to nail a deadline at work while still feeling sassy. Did I mention there's harmonica? You know how I feel about the harmonica, right?

Dance, Dance (Fall-Out Boy)
Dance, Dance kind of falls into the Dirty Little Secret/All-American Rejects category... but even angrier. Fall-Out Boy is another fabulous thing to hail from Chicago (someone explain why we haven't packed up our house and moved there yet???...), and has enjoyed a healthy explosion of popularity. As long as they don't turn into pyrotechnic fatheads like another very promising punk band (ahem... Green Day...) I'll be a happy girl.

She's Hearing Voices (Bloc Party)
How do I even begin to describe Bloc Party's sound? Hailing from south London, these boys are positively global. I love their sound; it's the stuff I love about music, generally (tight lyrics, driving drums, dancing guitar riffs, a unique lead vocal), fast-forwarded 15 years. Silent Alarm, their first full-length, released this year, has gotten all sort of critical acclaim... and that's gotta mean something. I can't wait til they get to my town. Sigh...

Busting Up A Starbucks (Mike Doughty)
Most of the world probably recognizes Mike Doughty's gravely vocals from his Soul Coughing years. Well, we all know Soul Coughing is no more (and the world a worse place for it, even if inter-band quibbling ate them alive... I need my quirky experimental music, man!), but Doughty's made a decent stab at solo goodness. Mike Doughty is truly one-of-a-kind (and while generally a big fat jerk, he's beautiful...) and I love the tongue-in-cheek Busting Up a Starbucks. So, experimental quirkiness, live on.

Two Sides of the River (Dar Williams)
Dar Williams, a perennial favorite, FINALLY got a new CD out there this fall (giving her what is due, she did get married and have a baby...) and I just love the soulfulness of Two Sides of the River. It reminds me of the fluid and dicey state of relationships (she reflected on this song following her out of New Orleans when she performed in St. Paul this fall.) I could give or take most folk music, but Dar is enchantment to my ears. Did I mention I got to meet her (squeal!) after her show? For the record, she thinks I'm a good mom. Aww...

Such Great Heights (The Postal Service)
Originally, I heard Such Great Heights as an Iron & Wine song... which in and of itself, was pretty fantastic (if not a little downtempo for my tastes). So when I heard The Postal Service's version, I had to remind myself to breathe. Take a beautifully penned love song, throw indie-rock edge at it, and double the tempo. Perhaps the best all-around song of the year. Unmistakable genius. 'Nuff said.

Let There Be Love (Oasis)
How I love to hate Oasis. They are arrogant, self-righteous, quarrelsome brothers and friends (at the best of times, it seems) who I would otherwise detest. But they make music that... well, you know. Sometimes music speaks about things that words cannot. And my sweet lord, the last song on this year's release, Don't Believe the Truth, is exactly what Oasis is best at: beautiful songs about the good stuff I cherish in human nature. Noel and Liam, quarrel on, but don't stop making music. I have a connection with that artist's deep love/deep rift cycle, too.

We want to hand down our craft, too! (right?...): A call to arms for alterna-crafters everywhere

Every year for the last couple of years, I have resolved to learn a new craft (this is the type of new year's resolution that I can be assured of keeping.)

In 2006, I'm thinking of learning how to weave. So, I'm doing some research with the help of a couple of friends, and I come across a bunch of fabulous local places, including the Weaver's Guild of Minnesota, the textile center, a couple of cool shops offering classes such as Creative Fibers. There's even a national guild for handweaving. Who knew?

A common theme amongst the mission statements of all these organizations is passing down traditional crafts to future generations. Often, because we buy clothes at Old Navy and get our socks from Target (guilty on both counts), we forget that not very long ago (less than 100 years, for most of us), your clothing was handmade. Grandma or mom knitted and darned the family socks. Not long before then, some artisan was hard at work hand-weaving the fabrics the women of the common classes (and tailors where money afforded) worked with to create garments for the entire population. These arts of necessity are not only time-honored traditions but are threads woven into all cultures (we all need clothing to stay warm/dry/clean, depending on your exact pinpoint on the globe) throughout time.

Cool, I think. To think that I am helping to preserve crafts that women have been passing down to their children and grandchildren for probably hundreds of generations...

Then I start to look at the staff at these organizations, the names and pictures of those on advisory boards and membership lists, and I have this creeping sense of dread, because I begin to realize that I could very well be the only person under 30 who has ever seriously considered bothering wht the Textile Center.

Why? The No-Coast craft show earlier this month was a rip-roaring success, and I'm pretty sure there wasn't a single "old-school" crafter in the house.
We've got Bust's Girl Wide Web... Crafty Planet... and this, from a recent University Chronicle article:

"No Coast's target audience was anyone looking for a good time. Parker said she doesn't want anyone to feel excluded based on age."The majority of vendors are in their 20s or 30s, but we have a couple of people that are still in high school and some in their 60s," Parker said. "My vision is crafting as a full circle. It's not just about young people or grandmas. I think it's the neatest thing to have a variety of age ranges come together and be excited about the same thing."

OK... so, here's the rub: if all the closet craft-nerds are coming out, baring our knitting needles and weaving looms, why aren't we joining the ranks of those supporting the propagation and generational continuance of our various craft(s)? My mom and grandma taught me to sew. I learned to quilt from an ancient woman named Millie. I have a big, pulsating soft spot for the old passing on their knowledge to the young... and textile arts/general craftiness certainly should be no exception. Except: nearly everyone on staff at these craft guilds are post-retirement age. Since when do we have to be grannies to lead our trades? Take Crafty Planet's example, get out there, do whatcha love, live the craft, learn from the masters (yes, even if they do remind you of Great-Aunt Tilly) and pass it on to other generations.

Alterna-crafters of today, those (to quote a friend) 20-somethings with scenester haircuts: get involved! Why aren't you, the green, hip, vintage-recycling, innovative, trend-creating, future of our art representing at the official organization level?

Come on, crafty sisters and brothers! Seize the momentum of our handiwork's trendiness and make an impact on future generations!

(I admittedly do not belong to any of these organizations, but on my own admonishments will now be looking into memberships... if you craft, do your art the biggest favor you can and please look into supporting an organization of your choosing through membership, attending (or teaching!) classes, volunteering or any other number of forms of involvement.)

Santa, Baby?

A couple of saturdays ago, we made our annual trek to the Minneapolis Marshall Field's to see their holiday display and of course, visit santa.

The lines were long, and as we wove through the home department on the 5th floor, you could see the hyperactivity creep into every fiber of Paige's being. Ah well, I tell myself. She's 2 and a half... what can you do?

Finally, we get up to the holiday display line. By this time, Paige's patience has completely worn out. She's tired, hungry, and cranky. Even the pretty sparkly Cinderella display didn't wow her (though two middle-aged women without children who rudely budged through a veritable wall of toddlers to get through the display first just about got a knuckle sandwich from both me and the mom in front of me...). Finally, thankfully, Cinderella's dress enchanted her little girly self into submission and we began enjoying ourselves.

The stars seemed aligned in our favor again when the line to see Santa was half as long as it has been for the past 2 years. Moving quickly, Paige didn't cry - didn't whine - didn't drool down her dress or mess up her pigtails. Soon enough, we're face to face with Santa.

Now, this last fall, Paige has adopted a healthy fear of strangers (which secretly makes me happy. She was just a little to cosmopolitan for this mom's tastes.) So, instead of hopping on Santa's lap, she coyly sits on the little drum "seat" next to him. Then, with all the charm she can muster, she starts the following conversation:

Paige: "Santa, please Santa, please! I want real baby this year, please Santa!"
Santa: (chuckling) "Oh, I see, Paige. You'd like a dollie for Christmas."
Paige: (tsks; draws on every ounce of attitude she has available.) "No, Santa! I want REAL BABY."
Santa: (now audibly laughing) "Well, you'll have to talk with your mommy and daddy about that. Now, how about a candy cane and picture?"

At which point I can feel the blood rush to my face, ears, forehead. Thank God Santa's elf didn't get me in the picture. She couldn't have; she was giggling too hard anyway.

I just hope Paige isn't too diappointed when Santa doesn't leave a newborn under the Christmas tree Sunday morning.

i heart spellcheck

Writing my final paper of the semester (yesss....)

One citation I am using: Gina Hernez-Broome.
Spellcheck suggests calling this, I am sure well-respected theorist in her field:
Gina Herpes-Broom.

the quick and dirty list of things that made me happy this week

1) getting the pda in my phone to sync with my computer at work
2) stella
3) wednesday night shows at first ave
4) Paige dancing to Maniac like she's been casted in a Flashdance revival
5) getting christmas cards done
6) Fred Flare
7) seriously, my new job. Best. Career Move. Ever.
8) i heart huckabees
9) size 5 knitting needles
10) 1 of 2 final presentations - done!

maintenance-free

#1. There's no such thing as a maintenance-free marriage. Unless, of course, you are participating in the popular "practice marriage", "sham marriage" or "disposable marriage" so popular amongst celebrities. Then, feel free to neglect, as you aren't really planning for the long term at any rate

#2. It's a good thing that I bought an 80-something year old house, because its drafty windows and imperfect plaster have taught me an important lesson about life.
Not many people would be as enamored with my house as I am. The thought of leaving it, selling it, abandoning it, having a fire or disaster (I'm just being paranoid because of the fire reported on the news this morning) gets me a little shaky and blurry-eyed. I love every nook and cranny of my vintage shelter: its leaning garage, the sinking stoop, the poorly renovated kitchen (soon to be remedied, mind you), the terracotta-colored walls, the half-story bedrooms, the miniature bathroom.

Why don't other people get my fascination with the old home? Because it's old. It needs love, it needs constant attention and constant maintenance. Which brings me to another conclusion: I'm beginning to notice a trend, that as a culture, we want things maintenance-free.

• We don't want to paint the exteriors of our homes -- generalizing, I see a lot of people wrapping their suburban (and even -- gasp -- urban) homes in pvc siding and calling it a day.
• We don't want to change the oil in our cars -- hence, the new models that can go several thousand more miles between oil changes (as the daughter of an auto mechanic, I am terrifically skeptic about this...)
• We don't want to work to maintain our relationships. Somewhere along the line, I was fed a line about how relationships are "happily ever after". Now, I know that's not true. And I have for years. But how come we never hear about the ensuing battle when Cinderella cannot balance the checkbook? What about the big argument pursuant to Prince Charming's control issues?

My challenge to myself in all this is, you reap the fruits of your labors. Maintaining that which has staying potential, while more difficult in the short term, will longitudinally create a rich, deep, perserveringly meaningful experience -- in my home, in my Ford, and in my marriage.