File: The Day After

Today is our third wedding anniversary. I thought our wedding day would be the happiest of my life, but before we walked down the aisle my dad gave me some sage advice. He said that I shouldn't look to our wedding day full of celebration as the pinnacle of happiness and fulfillment. Instead, I should look to the day after and the day after and the many days after until happily ever after.

I didn't quite understand it at the time because our wedding day was filled with so much joy, but after three years I finally get it. The brilliance and strength of our marriage is not in the goings-away or in the moments filled with parties, but in the mundane everydayness of our lives.

This is what I have learned to treasure. And while I haven't felt that I would burst from joy everyday, I am, overall, the happiest I've ever been. Matt, thank you for being my anchor to all things true. May we always have 120.

File: We Went to the Dells!

So, our weekend was quite the adventure. Who knew that Wisconsin was going to get 15 inches of snow? Certainly not me.

The drive in was fun. We talked the whole way and the roads weren’t bad. Despite getting lost in search of an Arby’s, we made it there in one piece.

Our first stop was the Wollersheim Winery. This place looked beautiful, even with all the snow. We were going to take a winery tour, but we were running late, so we decided to do the wine tasting instead. We had only tasted wine at one other time, on our second anniversary when we went out to Starved Rock, so we were still excited about it. There was less presentation than we had the previous time. It was pretty much, “Here’s your wine. Now what?” Despite the slightly rude service, the wine tasted awesome. They had cranberry wine. Yum! We bought five bottles.

Then, we traveled to the Sundara Spa and Suites. I picked it because of the reviews. It was rated in almost every magazine as the best spa in the Midwest. While it was certainly a fun experience, I don’t think I would agree with that statement. Maybe normal spa goers don’t expect much, but when I’m spending a chunk of change on a room, I expect a certain level of detail that was lacking. Matt summed it up: this would have been the perfect experience had it been a hundred dollars cheaper.

We got there a little late, so we were told to go right upstairs and change into our swimsuits and robes and come down for a tour. (They’re sort of demanding about the robe thing. Their measure if you’re enjoying yourself is if you stay in your robe during your entire stay, which I don’t think counts if they sort of force you to wear your robe.) We changed and came downstairs, but there was nobody waiting to give us a tour. I didn’t know where to go and was told to go through a set of doors. Through the set of doors was another set of doors (confused yet?). I wandered in and walked around in circles until someone found me and took pity on me.

They then took me to meet my treatment provider, Andrei. He was a giant of man who only spoke in a whisper. (It was a fun dichotomy.) He took me to the room, which was nicely appointed, and explained what was going to happen. It was called an herbal infusion, which meant that he first exfoliated my skin, then wrapped me in hot towels, then wrapped me in an herb and tea soaked sheet, then wrapped me in a silver space blanket until I was a Brandi/herb taco. As I had to stew in my taco wrapping for awhile, he massaged my face, head, neck, and shoulders. Then, he unwrapped the taco blanket and massaged my back, legs, and feet. It was awesome. I felt comfortable with him immediately and he did a really good job. Talk about attention to details – he got it.

After my massage, I went back upstairs to our room. Matt was still running (thus using the time to pamper himself), so I got to sit down and enjoy our room. Our room was incredible. It had a feathersoft bed, a fireplace, this really comfy leather chair and ottoman (perfect for reading), and a great view. It had bay windows that looked out onto the pine trees. They lit them at night, so it was especially beautiful to watch the snow come down. Our bathroom was also gigantic. It had its own shower section. This shower was a work of art. It had two giant rain showerheads and little moveable showerheads so there was always enough water on you. If we ever make it big, I’m going to get one of those puppies put in our bathroom.

Matt came up and we got ready for dinner. We decided to dress up because it was fun, and hey, why not? He had called the front desk and asked if there were any fondue restaurants in the area. He was told yes and they made a reservation for us. The spa offered a Lincoln Town Car service, which meant that they would drive you around for free in this swanky car. We took them up on the offer and scheduled the car. We got into the car and told the driver, John, with whom we shared a wedding anniversary, where we were going. He was surprised that it had fondue and offered to stay and wait while we made sure. Being the brave idiots we are, we didn’t want to waste his time, so we told him to go ahead without us.

Boy, were we wrong. No fondue. Ribs, underdone steak, orders that would be completely wrong, yes, fondue, no. People in hoodies and screaming babies for a 9pm seating, yes, fondue, no. British waiters from Ballaboo and “romantic” Humphrey Bogart rooms that we weren’t sat in despite having reservations for our WEDDING ANNIVERSARY, yes, fondue, no. Eh, we make our own fun.

We slept in the next day and ordered breakfast in bed. The food was much better than the previous night. It was fun to just lounge for most of the morning. Then, we headed downstairs for the Purifying Bath Ritual.

This ritual was one spoken of with reverence in all of the literature about the spa. I was disappointed the previous night because the room looked so small (and so spacious on the web site), but once I talked Matt into partaking, found it to be a highlight of the trip. There’s a shower (which felt awesome – all of their showers rocked) and you’re supposed to exfoliate yourself with herbs (big into herbs, this place). Then, you spray yourself with this refreshing body mist (dunno what it was, it smelled sort of like processed roses). Then, you enter the steam room. There was so much steam that you couldn’t see in front of you. Then you hop into another shower (to regulate your body temperature). Finally, you alternate between the hot tub and the cold plunge pool. Matt liked the cold plunge pool a lot, while I was more of a fan of the hot tub. The neat thing was that my limbs tingled after going between the two.

We then got our stuff together and checked out. We got wristbands to go to the indoor waterpark, the Wilderness. This was an adventure, too. The first door opened onto such a deluge of screaming that we immediately closed the door and shot each other the warning look. We were scared. Door number two proved more promising with some water slides, a hot tub, and a lazy river. We hung out the most behind door number three: the wave pool. After a hearty lunch at Survivor’s (again, not great food, but heavy on irony), I learned something new about my spouse: he loves wave pools as much as I do. We had a blast splashing around. It was especially great to be in a bathing suit and watch the snow fall outside.

We ended our weekend with a drive home with a stop in Madison at this awesome hibatchi-style Japanese restaurant. Big thumbs up to the GPS navigation system my folks got us for the holidays for picking the best restaurant in all of Wisconsin. It was a great end to a super-fun weekend.

Yay for love!

File: To the Dells!

This weekend we're driving out to the Dells to celebrate our anniversary.

As marriage is about compromise, we're staying at a spa (my idea) and going to a water park (Matt's idea). Both ideas intrigue me.

I'm so excited to wear a bathing suit and pretend we live in warm weather. (I said pretend! Pretend! We're not moving to Florida. Yeah, I'm speaking to you, Mom and Dad.)

We'll be back Sunday evening, maybe in time for the Oscars.

File: A Little Bush Funny

Via Boing Boing, via Why, That's Delightful.

File: Holy Typewriter Keyboard

Courtesy of Make, I found this link: http://steampunkworkshop.com/keyboard.shtml

Holy awesome frijoles. Man, do I love typewriter mods.

File: Book Security

Book security.

When I started at DePaul, I worked in the library. I thought it would be glamorous because, hey, I love libraries. Obviously, I had forgotten my times as a volunteer at the Royal Palm Beach Public Library. (More on that another day.)

My job, for which I can't even remember the title, was part of a factory line of book entry. Someone before me would recover the title in ugly library binding and place it on a cart. The cart would then be delivered to me. My job, in the fast-growing field of book security, was to open each book and place a magnetic strip against the spine of the final page. Then, when finished with my cart, I would roll it over to the guy-who-pasted-in-the-due-date-card-holder. He gave the books to the stamper who would mark them "Property of DePaul Library." Then, they were rolled to the data entry girl who would make them available in the collection.

This was a very specific hierarchy. The data entry girl was definitely at the top of the heap. One had to "work up" to this valued position. (Luckily, she couldn't lord it over me because the management wouldn't allow us to talk. Ever.)

The only way to move up the ranks was to do your job without error, which for me, meant that I had to place the strip perfectly along the spine. If it was off just a little, the library patron could see the strip (note the white line in the picture above), thus defeating its purpose as a security device. (Yeah, this made no sense to me either. What, if you could see it, would you be more likely to Exacto it out? Come on.)

Getting it perfectly aligned is extremely difficult to do. You have to get the spine just right without bending the book, and you only get one shot because those security devices are crazy-sticky. I was miserable at it. Obviously, ChiPubLib employees struggle with the same conundrum.

Once, the stamper guy was out sick and I was asked to do the security and the stamping. They made a big deal out of it because stamping was such an important job. It was ridiculous, although they did offer to pay me double-time because I was doing two jobs. I accepted. That was my most glorious moment. Sigh.

My job in book security only lasted three long months.

File: The Library Project, Read: Shelf 1/216

If you were keeping a tally of my "read books," you may have noticed that I've made my way through the first shelf of the library project.

As a recap, I decided to read:

Achebe, Chinua. No Longer at Ease
Adler, Elizabeth The Last Time I Saw Paris
Abu-Jaber, Diana. Crescent
Ackroyd, Peter. The Lambs of London : A Novel

I started with No Longer at Ease. Here were my initial thoughts in the library:

7. Chinua Achebe. No Longer At Ease in paperback. I like him. I loved Things Fall Apart. This cover is an awful purple (my least favorite color), but goes in the like pile simply by strength of author. Which is I guess what it should be in the first place. Feh, book marketing.

The book was beautiful. Why I have not read everything this man has ever written? It tells the story of Obi Okonkwo, a man who, as a boy, lived in a South African village. The tribal elders saw Obi was gifted and worked together to send him to the best schools abroad. He did them proud by getting a high post within the government after college. Unfortunately, that did not last. You know Obi's in trouble from the get-go because the book opens with him walking into a trial that he's been dreading. Achebe feeds the reader the details throughout the narrative. He tells it in simple, straight-forward language, which is a perfect complement to the rich landscape and intriguing portraits he also created. This book hinges on the corruption of South American politics, but unlike Things Fall Apart, this is not the novel's primary focus. This book shows the micro level of how corruption affects a single man of promise.

I liked Things Fall Apart more, but still think this is worth the read. Achebe's writing is strong, painful and beautiful, and inspiring. I'm planning on adding No Longer at Ease to my personal library, but I'm hoping to find an edition that isn't clothed in a hideous purple cover.

The next book I read was The Lambs of London. This was the sticker book. Again, a recap of my thoughts before reading:

9. Peter Ackroyd. The Lambs of London in hardcover. Maybe -- good Publisher's Weekly review, but not thrilled with the idea of historical fiction. Wait! I just opened it. It has Scooby-Doo stickers. Definite second look.

Not to harp on the stickers thing, but getting cool stickers was the best part of this book. It reminded me of book crossing, a concept I love that is practiced worldwide. This book I did not love, although it is also read worldwide. (The author, Peter Ackroyd, is a Brit.) I'd like to say I had heard of the author before, but I would be lying. A quick Google search revealed that he's quite the literary guy. I'm sure his other work is better than this and would be willing to give his Oscar Wilde stuff a read.

This book is a fictionalized version of the lives of Mary and Charles Lamb. In real life, the Lambs were a fascinating brother and sister pair who wrote criticism and a children's version of Shakespeare’s plays together. They both also suffered from serious mental illness -- Mary's demons caused her to kill her mother. Famous Shakespearean forger William Ireland also makes a fictionalized appearance in this novel. The two stories should give Ackroyd all of the drama needed for a great read.

Unfortunately, the fiction isn't quite as interesting as the truth. The novel is based around Mary's loneliness (pre-mother-killing). The only things that bring her out of herself are her brother Charles and her friendship with William Ireland. Ireland discovers new works of Shakespeare, which he shares with Mary in hopes of getting closer to Charles. Ireland begins to accrue more and more success, but he never quite enters into the social circles he desires (especially the one Charles runs). Then, things fall apart. Oh, and Mary kills her mother, but it’s sort of portrayed as an after-thought.

The writing is very, very dry. Not dry like a good martini, but dry as in dull. The writing feels forced and exaggerated. The characters are but sketches. The biggest issue I had with it is that Ackroyd tries to show off his knowledge of invented Shakespeare. It comes off as preachy and ineffective. That said, everyone from Publishers Weekly to the New York Times loved it. Not true of me, but I loved that it came with stickers.

Crescent was my next read. My initial reaction to the title:

6. Diana Abu-Jaber. Crescent in hardcover. I like the pretty cover. It looks newish, which means that it probably doesn't have roaches. It got good reviews for first book from the New Yorker and the New York Times. Hmm, suspicious -- no good reviews on this one. I read half a page and it did pass the infamous page turner test. Definite maybe.

This book was such a relief from the sticker book. Talk about gorgeous writing. Abu-Jaber does an amazing job of interweaving a few contrasting stories. The first is a family myth of a man who gets lost and the woman who goes to find him. The second is the story of Sirine, a woman of Iraqi-American heritage, whose parents were killed during a UN mission when she was a child. She was raised in her uncle's house, where she still lives. At age 39, she is a bit of a loner, but is an amazing chef who works at Nadia's Cafe. The third story is of the man she meets, Han, a visiting professor who left Iraq but is still under its power. The fourth one is a myriad of stories from all the characters who frequent Nadia's Cafe.

This book is like a patchwork dream. I want to tell more about it, but every thread of narrative comes together to make the novel work. I can't illuminate it without giving away even part of the strands. Each strand could have been made out of golden thread -- there is nothing that is lost or out of place in this narrative. Read it and it will both satisfy you and make you hungry for more.

Crescent is a true wow. Apparently, I'm not the only one who believes that. Abu-Jaber won the PEN Award for Literary Fiction for this title. I'm adding her to my authors-to-follow list. Her other books, Arabian Jazz and The Language of Baklava, are definite must-reads, now that I've been introduced to her writing. The way she writes inspires me to do my own. If, out of the whole library project, this is the only author that makes me want to sing out, then the project was a success. Her writing is that good. Yay for discoveries!

The final book on my shelf was The Last Time I Saw Paris. This is from the author who had seven books lined up next to each other, none of them calling my name. My initial reaction:

21. Elizabeth Adler. The Last Time I Saw Paris in hardcover. Ok, she has worn me down. I will take this one. It seems to be the shortest. It's about France. Publisher's Weekly and Booklist liked it. Fine.

I went into this with the best intentions. I really wanted to like this book. Alas, it was not meant to be. I made it to page 33. At the end of the fifth chapter, I had seen where it was going and was already bored and depressed. It was this sentence that took me over the edge: "There was just something about her in that red bathing suit..." (Use of ellipses is original to the author.)

So, from what I could gather, the story is about Lara, a forty-five-year-old woman whose surgeon husband is having an affair with his younger, prettier, more educated, surgical assistant. She decides to revitalize their dying marriage by booking a second honeymoon to Paris. He, of course, doesn't seem really interested and finds an excuse not to go. After Lara spends her entire life working for their marriage and their now-grown daughters (who never really call or care), she finds herself alone. She and her dog go to the beach house where she finds a piece of her deck rotted. She calls in to get it repaired and, you guessed it, the younger repair guy is really hot and interested. That's where I stopped. Flipping through the rest of the book, she takes him to Paris and uses phrases like, "It's not easy to leave half a lifetime behind, Dan, please understand that." and "Pride is no comfort in an empty bed."

I guess there is a large market of women who believe this stuff. G-d knows Cosmo keeps printing things about getting better in bed and looking younger. I just can't believe in the idea that the guy's always going to go after the younger girl, that no matter what you do, men just act that way and that, if you're G-d forbid an older woman, you're worthless. I've been around a lifetime of amazing men who don't act or think that way. I believe this line of thought is just a lazy and sloppy proliferation of tired ideas. Add boring cliches and stock characters, and I just have no interest in wasting my time. This one will be returned to the library unfinished.

The library is closed tomorrow, but I'll head there on Tuesday for Shelf 2.

File: Food

Dinner gone wrong. Nopale (cactus) is icky. Even gross with lime.

File: Obama in 2008!

Barack Obama is announcing his intent for President this morning. Watch it live at BarackObama.com.

Here's my favorite speech from him. He talks about religion and politics and his own faith. It's wonderful because he addresses, in gorgeous yet plain language, how progressives can enter into the conversation on faith.

"Religious people do not have a monopoly on morality..." I find this particularly effective because so much of the debate has been exclusive. There have been the fire and brimstoners and everyone else. And, even though the fire and brimstoners are in the minority in terms of American values, they have had the loudest voices within the public sphere. I believe that is because progressives are too afraid to speak out about faith.

He goes on to point out that the same is true on the flip side when it comes to politicians coming to churches with insincere prayers. Sen. Obama continues, "I'd rather see secularists affirm their morality and ethics without pretending they are something they are not." I agree. Nothing sickens me more than seeing politicians clearly shilling their "beliefs" for votes. Your attendance at a religious institution does not make you "good." How strong are your values when you can turn around and act in an ugly, hateful, and intolerant manner -- behaviors that are outside even the most relaxed moral compasses? (Might I point to the Anderson court ruling in Washington that allows the legislature to "limit marriage to those couples able to have and raise children together." Meaning that my own parents, and the millions of others who cannot naturally conceive, would not be considered legally married. All of this to protect America from the "immorality" of homosexuality. How is that moral?)

From another part of the speech, on how secularists and religious folks are needed in the public debate: "We need Christians, Jews, and Muslims on Capitol Hill. When you have and estate tax with a trillion dollar budget going from social services to a bunch of folks who don't need it and haven't requested it, we need an injection of morality into our political debate." I'm glad he mentioned how important it is that many different voices are needed. I think one reason that progressives don't mention religion is because it does alienate our voting block. I'm extremely faithful, my tenets are guided by my belief in G-d, but I'm not Christian. I'm Jewish, yet I bristle even at my own religion when it is suggested that we hold the only keys to a moral life. I know many, many people that are just as godly with no belief in G-d. Progressives, as a whole, need to acknowledge this and accept this for what it is in order for us to build a foundation to bring in more supporters.

Sen. Obama calls for this as well. He says that we need to build on the “tenuous partnerships of religious and secular people of good will. The tensions and suspicions on each side of the religious divide will have to be squarely addressed and each side will need to accept some ground rules for collaboration."

He suggests that:
Conservative leaders:
"Understand the critical role of the separation of church and state in not just preserving our democracy, but the robustness of our religious practice."
He reminds people that it was originally the forbearers of the evangelicals who were the most effective champions of the first amendment.

He also recommends that:
Progressive leaders:
Don't "ask believers to leave their religion at the door before entering the public square. If we shed some of our bias, we might recognize some overlapping values that religious and secular people share when it comes to the direction of our country."

He goes on to make a number of other salient points, emphasizing the big ones here. His honest discourse is something I've been searching for in politics. Finally, there's a voice that says yes, we need faith; yes, we need tolerance; and yes, we need common sense. To 2008!

File: Big Bowl and Big Cookie

Third course and quarter: we are losing. Our cookie now reads G Bears.

File: Football Fondue

Superbowl and fondue. A perfect tradition. Go Bears!

File: Home

Oh sweet IKEA box how you thwart me. 50 minutes in. Drawers constructed 0. Nails left 76. Optimism I'll complete this problem -100.

File: Art

Over the summer, I started writing letters to people I admired. One of them was Sandra Cisneros, an amazing writer. In the mail today, along with the Netflix and a package I ordered online, was this letter from Ms. Cisneros.

I recognized the handwriting (I have a signed copy of The House on Mango Street) and started doing little cartwheels in my heart. It's a beautiful letter -- not only did she read my letter, she was affected by it.

My favorite sentence: "In the meantime, I wish you creativity." What a gorgeous statement. She's so polished and beautiful. This makes me want to write.

You can find me walking on sunshine (ooh ooh) for the rest of the day.

File: Family, Holidays, Friends, and Philosophy

Weekend 1/2 of awesome.

The weekend before last, Matt and I went down to Florida for a belated Hanukkah/Christmas/my birthday/dad's birthday/Shane's birthday celebration. It was so much fun. My mom described it as the best Christmas we've ever had. I think she's right. Everything was so relaxed and wonderful. It was just easy to be.

The gift that we thought really kicked some a was this electronic picture frame. It scrolls through your photos, has a remote, and is overall very cool. Knowing their love of photos, it seemed like a slam dunk.

Normally, when we get into my parents' house, there's a light-hearted inspection of what's different. This year was no different. Dad showed us his train set and the entire Christmas village (they had kept it all up in our honor), Mom showed off the tree and the new tv, and they both showed us the new picture frame, beaming with pride at their technological accomplishment. Yes, friends, the very same picture frame we had proudly bought the day after Thanksgiving. Matt, a mischievous imp at heart, began asking questions about this photo frame. I wanted the earth to swallow me because I was so mortified, but Matt stood there gleefully inquiring about every aspect of their purchase, which let the record show, they had bought the very day we arrived. Our luggage didn't arrive until the next day (my fault, more about that later), so this act continued for hours, with me wandering around one of the lower circles of Hades. When they opened their gift (finally), they seemed genuinely excited because they claimed they wanted two anyway. My parents deserve Oscars.

My parents overdid it on everything -- we both have the new Nintendos and a new vacuum cleaner-- but it was great. They even managed to pull off a surprise: Christel, and her husband Steve, joined us for dinner on Saturday night. I had no idea they were coming because sly Christel and my mother lied to me about her whereabouts. (And I was sad that I wouldn't get to see them.) We had a big cake, which we fed to most of the restaurant. I had forgotten how, in Florida, it's okay to talk to strangers. People will feel no inhibitions about joining your conversation, or if you're walking out of a restaurant that caters to the old and very young, to implore you for cake. That makes even a simple jog to the car an adventure.

We hung out with my aunt and cousins on our last day. I was grateful because my aunt moved around a party to be with us. Brunch, which was actually lunch because my aunt arrived an hour late, was a surreal experience. They've always been really involved with the Special Olympics. This year, they performed in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. They're even having a documentary filmed about them and Cindi Lauper is doing a benefit to raise money for their cause. This is really exciting stuff, but it eclipsed the visit. My aunt is a different person now. She was always driven, something I loved, admired and imitated, but now it's on another level, almost to the point of an obsession where she's unable to see outside herself. I hope I'm off on this, maybe only catching her for one specific moment in time, but it made me really blue.

When I leave and come home, I expect things to be just as I've left them. It saddens me to see big changes because it reminds me that I'm far away and don't get to see them as they gradually occur. There's something calming about going home because, for the most part, my parents don't change drastically. There are things that are new: the diet and fitness plan, a retirees' complete lack of schedule, their increased mobility. These are all good changes, ones I've rallied for. Even my friends don't really change -- it was wonderful to see Christel and Steve as they are. I feel we don't really change either. Yes, exciting things are happening around us and to us and that we're doing, but it seems to happen seamlessly, instead of in jerky stop-motion capture.

I was able to talk about this with my parents and that's what made the weekend so special. I feel like we've finally accepted each other for who we are. More than that, we're celebrating each other for it. It was so wonderful to really listen and really be listened to this belated Christmas. And that's what makes it the best one ever.