13 February 2007
10 February 2007
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!
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!
04 February 2007
File: Big Bowl and Big Cookie
01 February 2007
File: Home
File: Art
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.
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.
16 January 2007
File: The Library Project, Shelf 1/216
I was in the library last week trying to find something to read (the book I wanted was in transit from another branch), when I had that familiar tinge of embarrassment I feel every time I walk into the library. I have this daydream about reading all of the books. It's more than just a daydream: it's one of my life goals.
If you know me, you'd smile knowingly if I told you that reading every book in the library is what I consider the pinnacle of living. You might be kind enough to point out that the library is a dynamic creature, as books are constantly added to its shelves. You might even tell me that it can't be done or chock it up to me being me.
I recognize this is a very big task for a girl to accomplish in just one lifetime, but it doesn't stop me. I have a strange tenacity (and audacity) to dream that I could do it. Paradoxically, this dream also makes me feel sad and powerless because part of me thinks that it is probably impossible. I don't want it to be out of reach. It would break my heart, I think.
So, I decided that day was as good as any day. I would begin with a practice run. Hence, the more-loosely-structured-than-its-name-but-still-has- crazy-amounts-of-structure-because-I-thought-of-it library project. My plan is to read at least one book from every shelf in fiction.
The relaxed rules: I would begin in my local library because it's close, the collection is smaller than the main branch, and most importantly, I was there when I conceived this plan. I would start with A and work my way through Z, one shelf at a time. I could read as many books that interested me on a shelf, but I had to read at least one. As this could be a longish project, I could read non library project books as well, just to keep myself entertained. Ideally, I will document the library project, because, well, it's me and I like to document things.
The Rogers Park Library has 216 shelves of fiction. On Tuesday night, I started with shelf one. I took down all of the books and evaluated each one, mostly based on the covers (take that folk wisdom) and other random criteria that I'll describe below. Books in green were put to the side to consider more closely.
Shelf 1 Contents, Books 1-22
Public Radio and How to Read and Why were fun books. Fun books are allowed.
I've got some reading to do. A lot of reading to do. This will keep me busy for the next couple of years. I'm psyched.
If you know me, you'd smile knowingly if I told you that reading every book in the library is what I consider the pinnacle of living. You might be kind enough to point out that the library is a dynamic creature, as books are constantly added to its shelves. You might even tell me that it can't be done or chock it up to me being me.
I recognize this is a very big task for a girl to accomplish in just one lifetime, but it doesn't stop me. I have a strange tenacity (and audacity) to dream that I could do it. Paradoxically, this dream also makes me feel sad and powerless because part of me thinks that it is probably impossible. I don't want it to be out of reach. It would break my heart, I think.
So, I decided that day was as good as any day. I would begin with a practice run. Hence, the more-loosely-structured-than-its-name-but-still-has- crazy-amounts-of-structure-because-I-thought-of-it library project. My plan is to read at least one book from every shelf in fiction.
The relaxed rules: I would begin in my local library because it's close, the collection is smaller than the main branch, and most importantly, I was there when I conceived this plan. I would start with A and work my way through Z, one shelf at a time. I could read as many books that interested me on a shelf, but I had to read at least one. As this could be a longish project, I could read non library project books as well, just to keep myself entertained. Ideally, I will document the library project, because, well, it's me and I like to document things.
The Rogers Park Library has 216 shelves of fiction. On Tuesday night, I started with shelf one. I took down all of the books and evaluated each one, mostly based on the covers (take that folk wisdom) and other random criteria that I'll describe below. Books in green were put to the side to consider more closely.
Shelf 1 Contents, Books 1-22
- Edward Abbey. The Fool's Progress in hardcover. Judged by cover.
- Jeff Abbott. Panic in drug store paperback. Also judged by cover.
- Keith Ablow. Compulsion in hardcover. No interest.
- Keith Ablow. Murder Suicide in hardcover. Not my genre.
- Peter Abrahams. Crying Wolf in hardcover. Pass.
- 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.
- 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.
- Kathy Acker. Great Expectations in hardcover. No -- it looks like it just came out of an AOL book application. And, the title has been done. And done well.
- 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.
- Karl Ackerman. The Patron Saint of Unmarried Women in hardcover. No -- I hate the cover and the title.
- Alice Adams. After the War in hardcover. It has an appealing cover with a sweet picture of her on the back. Wow, she won a bunch of awards. I will come back to this book -- it picks up where A Southern Exposure ended. This sounds great, but I must read the first one first.
- Alice Adams. Almost Perfect in hardcover. I will mark for later.
- Richard Adams Tales from Watership Down in drug store paperback. While I enjoyed the first one this just sounds like a blantant appeal for money, like the Lion King 2. I will not fall for it. Maybe I should buy it for Matt -- then I can read it too.
- Richard Adams. Watership Down in paperback. I own it. It's a great read.
- Kim Addouizio. Little Beauties in hardcover. Pretty cover but it screams chic lit, which I might consider, but with at least three books already on the table -- no dice.
- Elizabeth Adler. All or Nothing in hardcover. No -- it looks like bad 80's glitz. Yuck.
- Elizabeth Adler. Sooner or Later in hardcover. No, see above.
- Elizabeth Adler. The House in Amalfi in hardcover. Updated cover and photo but still too suspicious.
- Elizabeth Adler. In a Heartbeat in hardcover. Still no.
- Elizabeth Adler. Invitation to Provence in hardcover. My G-d, she has a lot of books.
- 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.
- Elizabeth Adler. The Rich Shall Inherit in hardcover. Boo -- we are back to the 1980's smarm and another book! (Watch her turn out to be my favorite author.)
| Achebe, Chinua. | No longer at ease | ||
| Bloom, Harold. | How to read and why | ||
| Adler, Elizabeth | The last time I saw Paris | ||
| Abu-Jaber, Diana. | Crescent | ||
| Phillips, Lisa A. | Public radio : behind the voices | ||
| Ackroyd, Peter, 1949 | The Lambs of London : a novel |
Public Radio and How to Read and Why were fun books. Fun books are allowed.
I've got some reading to do. A lot of reading to do. This will keep me busy for the next couple of years. I'm psyched.
15 January 2007
File: Home, Family, Dadfest '07
Let's Here it for the Dads!
This past weekend we had Dadfest 2007. Matt and I took Friday off to welcome my dad and Matt's dad into town. It was awesome. (I promise to post pictures.)
We started off Friday by picking up my dad at the airport, late. (Sorry!) We drove back here and he looked at our new home. He liked it. Rio and Patrick were in full cute overload and once again charmed him with their mad meowing and fetching skills. Rio followed my dad around all weekend -- I don't think she'll ever be the same.
We walked down to the Devon Market and made some smart food choices. (I'm so proud of my dad for eating right.) We celebrated my dad's birthday with winter gear and singing.
Then, we went to the airport and picked up Matt's dad, also late. (Sorry!) The plan was to rent the truck and head to IKEA, but Matt's dad (whom we call Pop) wanted to see our place. We drove back up here and we broke out the graph paper. A couple of hours and a few drawings later, we were ready.
The drive to IKEA was excruciating. It took an hour and a half, thus cutting it too close to actually buy anything (yes, there were tears). After a mere twenty minutes in the store, we were back in the car, with the promise to return the next morning. The dads and I then went out to dinner at Soupbox. My dad learned the value of a scarf when he found out that the Windy City is actually, um, windy.
Matt had a ComedySportz show and brought the funny. They sang the birthday song to my dad; he was sort of embarrassed by this, especially when we (okay, I) made him stand up and say his name. (He was so cute and shy, despite whispering suggestions into my ear all night.) Matt's dad got into the act too when Matt asked for a question from the audience and he replied, "What do I tell my son who insists on spending his Friday evenings on the stage in Chicago?" Matt's response, as an imprisoned felon, was funny because he played back. It was a good time. I love seeing the pride the dads had to watch Matt. I love watching him, too. A funny guy, my husband. There was a nice moment for me as well because a couple of people came up and complimented me on my performance in the theatre a few weeks ago (I had done a student show). The best part: within earshot of my dad. Yeehaw!
We got up uber-early on Saturday and the dads were already hatching a plan. We drove to IKEA, which my father described as a wonderland, and actually had time to shop. Perhaps we had too much time -- it was past noon when we left and everyone was getting a little antsy. We stopped at Home Depot, bought more stuff, and came home. We unloaded and returned the truck. The real reasons the dads were in town began in earnest.
Matt's dad came to build us French Doors and a desk. He brought with him awesome tools (which he let us keep, so generous and amazing). He taught Matt how to use a table saw, how to miter, how to hang doors. Matt is well on the way towards earning his stripes and becoming quite the carpenter.
My dad came in town to teach me how to fix everything. And to actually fix everything. I had problems with the washing machine, the dryer, the doors, the toilet, the shower, the lights, the plumbing. I know this makes our new place sound like the money pit, but it's really not -- there were just a bunch of little things, but I didn't know how to do any of them and couldn't have figured them out if he wasn't here. My dad and I also put together our new furniture.
Both dad efforts were a raving success. We have French doors. We have a guest room door that closes and no longer has bright gold doorknobs. We have a ten foot desk, which was a collaborative effort from all parties (even the cats, we have pictures). And, we have a toilet that no longer has a childproof flusher.
The best part about Dadfest was spending time with our dads and our dads acknowledging us as grown-ups. I always had that vision in mind about what family is or could be. This weekend, it was everything I ever wanted. Thank you, dads, for it all.
This past weekend we had Dadfest 2007. Matt and I took Friday off to welcome my dad and Matt's dad into town. It was awesome. (I promise to post pictures.)
We started off Friday by picking up my dad at the airport, late. (Sorry!) We drove back here and he looked at our new home. He liked it. Rio and Patrick were in full cute overload and once again charmed him with their mad meowing and fetching skills. Rio followed my dad around all weekend -- I don't think she'll ever be the same.
We walked down to the Devon Market and made some smart food choices. (I'm so proud of my dad for eating right.) We celebrated my dad's birthday with winter gear and singing.
Then, we went to the airport and picked up Matt's dad, also late. (Sorry!) The plan was to rent the truck and head to IKEA, but Matt's dad (whom we call Pop) wanted to see our place. We drove back up here and we broke out the graph paper. A couple of hours and a few drawings later, we were ready.
The drive to IKEA was excruciating. It took an hour and a half, thus cutting it too close to actually buy anything (yes, there were tears). After a mere twenty minutes in the store, we were back in the car, with the promise to return the next morning. The dads and I then went out to dinner at Soupbox. My dad learned the value of a scarf when he found out that the Windy City is actually, um, windy.
Matt had a ComedySportz show and brought the funny. They sang the birthday song to my dad; he was sort of embarrassed by this, especially when we (okay, I) made him stand up and say his name. (He was so cute and shy, despite whispering suggestions into my ear all night.) Matt's dad got into the act too when Matt asked for a question from the audience and he replied, "What do I tell my son who insists on spending his Friday evenings on the stage in Chicago?" Matt's response, as an imprisoned felon, was funny because he played back. It was a good time. I love seeing the pride the dads had to watch Matt. I love watching him, too. A funny guy, my husband. There was a nice moment for me as well because a couple of people came up and complimented me on my performance in the theatre a few weeks ago (I had done a student show). The best part: within earshot of my dad. Yeehaw!
We got up uber-early on Saturday and the dads were already hatching a plan. We drove to IKEA, which my father described as a wonderland, and actually had time to shop. Perhaps we had too much time -- it was past noon when we left and everyone was getting a little antsy. We stopped at Home Depot, bought more stuff, and came home. We unloaded and returned the truck. The real reasons the dads were in town began in earnest.
Matt's dad came to build us French Doors and a desk. He brought with him awesome tools (which he let us keep, so generous and amazing). He taught Matt how to use a table saw, how to miter, how to hang doors. Matt is well on the way towards earning his stripes and becoming quite the carpenter.
My dad came in town to teach me how to fix everything. And to actually fix everything. I had problems with the washing machine, the dryer, the doors, the toilet, the shower, the lights, the plumbing. I know this makes our new place sound like the money pit, but it's really not -- there were just a bunch of little things, but I didn't know how to do any of them and couldn't have figured them out if he wasn't here. My dad and I also put together our new furniture.
Both dad efforts were a raving success. We have French doors. We have a guest room door that closes and no longer has bright gold doorknobs. We have a ten foot desk, which was a collaborative effort from all parties (even the cats, we have pictures). And, we have a toilet that no longer has a childproof flusher.
The best part about Dadfest was spending time with our dads and our dads acknowledging us as grown-ups. I always had that vision in mind about what family is or could be. This weekend, it was everything I ever wanted. Thank you, dads, for it all.
08 January 2007
File: Sports
41. 14.
Let's go Gators!
I don't bleed orange and blue, but a National Championship is a National Championship. (And I just won lunch.) Yay!
Let's go Gators!
I don't bleed orange and blue, but a National Championship is a National Championship. (And I just won lunch.) Yay!
06 January 2007
File: Book Review
Book: YOU: On a Diet
Authors: Dr. Mike Roisen and Dr. Mehmet Oz
Publisher: Free Press
Pages: 384
Version: Hardcover
Release: October, 2006
Matt and I watched a special on 20/20 talking about the brain and weight loss. It used fear for one team (their overweight bikini pictures shown on the baseball stadium's big screen if they didn't hit their goal) and praise for the second (positive reinforcement team approach).
We liked this idea of a challenge, as we both are not completely satisfied with our bodies (who knew that driving added pounds and flab?). We're still young and optimistic -- our goal is that in two months our waistlines/eating and fitness habits will change for the better. If not, there is a two-week moratorium on driving the car.
Knowing we needed guidance, I went to the bookstore. The You book was exactly what I wanted. I was familiar with the other You titles (YOU: The Owner's Manual and YOU: The Smart Patient) because I had checked them out of the library. They immediately became books I wanted to own (and write in).
The series is written by doctors who believe that if we know about our biology, we can retrain ourselves to avoid some of the largest health problems in our society: heart disease/attacks, diabetes, obesity, etc. So, they go to great lengths to make the content easy to digest (bad pun intended) and fun to read.
I think they go a little overboard in this respect. There are all of these "Youreka" tips that let you know when they've hit upon the gold nugget idea. While the tips are helpful, the shout-out is annoying. The drawings are clear, but cutesy in a charming way. For example, it's kind of fun to imagine little elves with spackle running around in your arteries trying to deal with the bad kind of cholesterol.
The authors also do a good job painting word pictures. According to them, the omentum, which is your body's parking lot for fat, looks like a pair of stockings hanging off of the stomach. As you gain more fat, the omentum continues to grow, pushing aside your other organs (and your waist line) while grabbing up all of the glucose, which your brain and other parts need to function. This is why the beer belly is especially unhealthy.
The book is just comprehensive enough to allow me to explain what the omentum is and does without being so comprehensive that I felt overwhelmed. It is logically laid out, leading you through the biology of food vs. your body to the emotional aspects behind why we eat (and why diets fail). Then, it explains what you can do to change your eating and exercise habits.
The exercise is a good addition. The premise is that, no excuses, you walk for thirty minutes a day, every day. You can break it up into three ten-minute segments, but you must do it. Once you conquer that, you can go on to additional strength and cardiovascular exercise that is supposed to help work and tone your muscles.
Part of the program is that you dump your cabinets of everything bad for you. We did this. I was surprised to see how many foods have high fructose corn syrup (a big no-no because your body uses it quickly and then sends messages to the brain that you need to eat again, even if you're not hungry).
The book also includes information on how to eat, instructions for the first two weeks, and a shopping list and menu with recipes. The shopping list is a bit difficult. What grocery store carries 100% whole wheat pizza dough? Also, there are some items that weren't listed (ground turkey is needed for one of the recipes, but you're never told to buy it).
The promise is that once you learn how to eat, you will retrain your body to want exercise and good foods and leave cravings behind you like yesterday's socks. I'm not sure if this is true or not, but the book was well-written, the doctors were likable, and the plan felt so doable and authoritative, that I'm willing to give it a try.
If it does work, I'll buy this book for everyone I know. If it doesn't, it was a good read anyway.
Authors: Dr. Mike Roisen and Dr. Mehmet Oz
Publisher: Free Press
Pages: 384
Version: Hardcover
Release: October, 2006
Matt and I watched a special on 20/20 talking about the brain and weight loss. It used fear for one team (their overweight bikini pictures shown on the baseball stadium's big screen if they didn't hit their goal) and praise for the second (positive reinforcement team approach).
We liked this idea of a challenge, as we both are not completely satisfied with our bodies (who knew that driving added pounds and flab?). We're still young and optimistic -- our goal is that in two months our waistlines/eating and fitness habits will change for the better. If not, there is a two-week moratorium on driving the car.
Knowing we needed guidance, I went to the bookstore. The You book was exactly what I wanted. I was familiar with the other You titles (YOU: The Owner's Manual and YOU: The Smart Patient) because I had checked them out of the library. They immediately became books I wanted to own (and write in).
The series is written by doctors who believe that if we know about our biology, we can retrain ourselves to avoid some of the largest health problems in our society: heart disease/attacks, diabetes, obesity, etc. So, they go to great lengths to make the content easy to digest (bad pun intended) and fun to read.
I think they go a little overboard in this respect. There are all of these "Youreka" tips that let you know when they've hit upon the gold nugget idea. While the tips are helpful, the shout-out is annoying. The drawings are clear, but cutesy in a charming way. For example, it's kind of fun to imagine little elves with spackle running around in your arteries trying to deal with the bad kind of cholesterol.
The authors also do a good job painting word pictures. According to them, the omentum, which is your body's parking lot for fat, looks like a pair of stockings hanging off of the stomach. As you gain more fat, the omentum continues to grow, pushing aside your other organs (and your waist line) while grabbing up all of the glucose, which your brain and other parts need to function. This is why the beer belly is especially unhealthy.
The book is just comprehensive enough to allow me to explain what the omentum is and does without being so comprehensive that I felt overwhelmed. It is logically laid out, leading you through the biology of food vs. your body to the emotional aspects behind why we eat (and why diets fail). Then, it explains what you can do to change your eating and exercise habits.
The exercise is a good addition. The premise is that, no excuses, you walk for thirty minutes a day, every day. You can break it up into three ten-minute segments, but you must do it. Once you conquer that, you can go on to additional strength and cardiovascular exercise that is supposed to help work and tone your muscles.
Part of the program is that you dump your cabinets of everything bad for you. We did this. I was surprised to see how many foods have high fructose corn syrup (a big no-no because your body uses it quickly and then sends messages to the brain that you need to eat again, even if you're not hungry).
The book also includes information on how to eat, instructions for the first two weeks, and a shopping list and menu with recipes. The shopping list is a bit difficult. What grocery store carries 100% whole wheat pizza dough? Also, there are some items that weren't listed (ground turkey is needed for one of the recipes, but you're never told to buy it).
The promise is that once you learn how to eat, you will retrain your body to want exercise and good foods and leave cravings behind you like yesterday's socks. I'm not sure if this is true or not, but the book was well-written, the doctors were likable, and the plan felt so doable and authoritative, that I'm willing to give it a try.
If it does work, I'll buy this book for everyone I know. If it doesn't, it was a good read anyway.
02 January 2007
31 December 2006
File: Home, Holidays
17 December 2006
File: Holidays
12 December 2006
File: Holiday Zombie Attack Gingerbread House
We bought the gingerbread making kit from Costco and started decorating last night. Matt's twisted mind came up with the Zombie-Attack Gingerbread House. I'm pretty proud of how it looks. (I should say looked. Matt already ate part of it.)
The front.
The poor gingerbread people attempted to signal for back-up. It never came.
The other side. It reads "No Z." Perhaps they thought they'd let the zombies know they weren't wanted. Unfortunately, zombies cannot read.
The back. Note that windows and doors are boarded up, in a futile attempt to prevent the zombies.
Close-up of fallen gingerbread men.
Oh, the horror. Mmm...brains.
The front.
The poor gingerbread people attempted to signal for back-up. It never came.
The other side. It reads "No Z." Perhaps they thought they'd let the zombies know they weren't wanted. Unfortunately, zombies cannot read.
The back. Note that windows and doors are boarded up, in a futile attempt to prevent the zombies.
Close-up of fallen gingerbread men.
Oh, the horror. Mmm...brains.
11 December 2006
File: Holidays
Both were delicious.
We also made a zombie attack gingerbread house. I'll post pictures of that one shortly.
09 December 2006
File: Oops!
I giftwrapped the template (about the only thing I'm giftwrapping around here) to reflect a certain December mood. Hooray for green, red, blue, and yellow.
So, this has been the week of parking woes. Last Saturday eve, Matt's mom came into town to help us with the new home. We decided to meet Matt's Aunt Pat for dinner near her condo in Evanston. It had been snowing pretty hard the day before -- some of my colleagues couldn't even get into work. So, we felt pretty lucky when we found a dug-out on-street parking space. We parked the car and continued down the street for dinner.
After eating a pretty good Asian feast, we were walking back down the street. My dad called to see how things were going, and I was chatting with him as we walked. Let me put you in the moment (and change tenses mid-paragraph): At the front of street, we see a bunch of tow trucks. Oh, I think to myself, what a shame. Some idiot parked in the wrong place. Then, I look down the street. There are tow trucks and police cars lining the street.
Alert to the idea that something may be wrong, I look beside me to see a blur of color racing past. A second or two later, I realize that blur of color was my spouse, yelling expletives. I put tow and tow together* and get that they are about to tow our car. Yikes. I hang up on my dad, and start running down the street behind Matt. (Note: this is an icy street.)
By the time I make it to the center of the flashing orange lights, Pip, our beloved Scion XA, is up on the towing doohick. Matt has successful convinced the traffic official to release the car. The guy was pretty nice about it, but ticketed us anyway, as a warning not to park on the street when the city declares a snow emergency. (A snow what?)
Cut to Wednesday evening. I'm due at the HowStuffWorks Christmas party at a downtown bowling alley called 10Pin. Deciding that I'm way too smart to park in the $30 garage below the House of Blues, I find a meter on Kinzie. I'm a little weirded out because it does say "No Parking - Tow Zone," but I figure, there's a meter. I had once gotten a ticket when I parked on Halsted for a similar offense. I contested the ticket and won because the meter and the sign were conflicting. I figured that surely the city had learned its lesson. Besides, I thought, there are guys valeting cars to this very section. A valet wouldn't put a car in a tow area, right?
I never got to find out. The abridged version: Matt attempts to find the car. He is unsuccessful. He arrives at the party to find out where I parked it. I give him directions. He arrives forty minutes later, very cold and pretty hot under the collar. He couldn't find the car. My group had effectively closed down the party and were ready to leave.
I had previously offered to take Alex, my co-worker, home. Ken, my boss, offers to walk us to the car. (A man with experience, he must have known that the car would be nowhere in sight.) The four of us leave and go to where I parked the car. In place of Pip is a silver VW Rabbit, as if Pip had taken the blue pill from Alice in Wonderland and shrunk.
--Um, buddy, I say. I think they towed the car.
--Are you sure you parked it here?
--Oh yeah.
We continued walking to Ken's house, and he was nice enough to drive all three of us home, despite living two blocks away from the fiesta. I expected Matt to more angry than he was. He really should have chewed me out, but didn't, really. He wasn't upset (that much) that I did a stupid and got the car towed. It was walking around in the cold that got him.
Oops. I have learned my lesson on that one. Sorry, honey.
I was able to retrieve the car the next day, again another nice thing that my wonderful boss did for me, as he insisted on driving me to what we found was the underbelly of the city. A lot of seedy workings from the city that works. My favorite episode: the website said that it would cost $100 to retrieve my car. When I called to make sure that my car was actually at the impound lot they said it would be at, the guy told me that I needed to bring $170. I replied that the website said it would be less. His pithy retort: "Your car isn't in a website."
Oh, how I love this city. And will be more protective about where I place Pip. In downtown Chicago, a $30 valeted parking garage is a steal.
*deliberate bad pun
So, this has been the week of parking woes. Last Saturday eve, Matt's mom came into town to help us with the new home. We decided to meet Matt's Aunt Pat for dinner near her condo in Evanston. It had been snowing pretty hard the day before -- some of my colleagues couldn't even get into work. So, we felt pretty lucky when we found a dug-out on-street parking space. We parked the car and continued down the street for dinner.
After eating a pretty good Asian feast, we were walking back down the street. My dad called to see how things were going, and I was chatting with him as we walked. Let me put you in the moment (and change tenses mid-paragraph): At the front of street, we see a bunch of tow trucks. Oh, I think to myself, what a shame. Some idiot parked in the wrong place. Then, I look down the street. There are tow trucks and police cars lining the street.
Alert to the idea that something may be wrong, I look beside me to see a blur of color racing past. A second or two later, I realize that blur of color was my spouse, yelling expletives. I put tow and tow together* and get that they are about to tow our car. Yikes. I hang up on my dad, and start running down the street behind Matt. (Note: this is an icy street.)
By the time I make it to the center of the flashing orange lights, Pip, our beloved Scion XA, is up on the towing doohick. Matt has successful convinced the traffic official to release the car. The guy was pretty nice about it, but ticketed us anyway, as a warning not to park on the street when the city declares a snow emergency. (A snow what?)
Cut to Wednesday evening. I'm due at the HowStuffWorks Christmas party at a downtown bowling alley called 10Pin. Deciding that I'm way too smart to park in the $30 garage below the House of Blues, I find a meter on Kinzie. I'm a little weirded out because it does say "No Parking - Tow Zone," but I figure, there's a meter. I had once gotten a ticket when I parked on Halsted for a similar offense. I contested the ticket and won because the meter and the sign were conflicting. I figured that surely the city had learned its lesson. Besides, I thought, there are guys valeting cars to this very section. A valet wouldn't put a car in a tow area, right?
I never got to find out. The abridged version: Matt attempts to find the car. He is unsuccessful. He arrives at the party to find out where I parked it. I give him directions. He arrives forty minutes later, very cold and pretty hot under the collar. He couldn't find the car. My group had effectively closed down the party and were ready to leave.
I had previously offered to take Alex, my co-worker, home. Ken, my boss, offers to walk us to the car. (A man with experience, he must have known that the car would be nowhere in sight.) The four of us leave and go to where I parked the car. In place of Pip is a silver VW Rabbit, as if Pip had taken the blue pill from Alice in Wonderland and shrunk.
--Um, buddy, I say. I think they towed the car.
--Are you sure you parked it here?
--Oh yeah.
We continued walking to Ken's house, and he was nice enough to drive all three of us home, despite living two blocks away from the fiesta. I expected Matt to more angry than he was. He really should have chewed me out, but didn't, really. He wasn't upset (that much) that I did a stupid and got the car towed. It was walking around in the cold that got him.
Oops. I have learned my lesson on that one. Sorry, honey.
I was able to retrieve the car the next day, again another nice thing that my wonderful boss did for me, as he insisted on driving me to what we found was the underbelly of the city. A lot of seedy workings from the city that works. My favorite episode: the website said that it would cost $100 to retrieve my car. When I called to make sure that my car was actually at the impound lot they said it would be at, the guy told me that I needed to bring $170. I replied that the website said it would be less. His pithy retort: "Your car isn't in a website."
Oh, how I love this city. And will be more protective about where I place Pip. In downtown Chicago, a $30 valeted parking garage is a steal.
*deliberate bad pun
08 December 2006
File: Home
Progress. Here I am in our bathroom. The wall above me is the last bastion of white. Matt's mom and I started painting this place lavendar last weekend. I finished it tonight. Hooray!
File: Holidays
I'm sitting in our new condo, waiting for food to arrive, as I contemplate the Christmas tree. I am a happy being.
I love going to Matt's folks in Ohio for Christmas. There's something magical about having Christmas morning at Nanny and Papa's. Nanny has so much joy for the day. It's great fun to have the whole gang troop over, gather in a large circle in the basement, and let the present-opening begin. But I know when I'm in Ohio, I'm not in Florida with my parents. There's over a dozen of us that gathers in Columbus. My folks just have us. (Okay, that's not entirely true, as my aunt and cousins come over too. My aunt's parents, who have been like grandparents to me, attend. Often, my friend Travis joins us for the festivities as well.)
I'm not saying what I want to say well. What I'm trying to say is that the holidays are now happy-sad, to use a Cabbage Patch Kids term. I wish I could split myself in two, three, or four (that's really what's needed: one of me with my folks, one with Matt's mom's folks, one with Matt's dad's folks, and one of me soaking in the Jacuzzi tub).
I am especially contemplative because we don't have any real traditions and I'd like to create them. Other than the putting the spinning dreidel on the roof (I'll try and post video as Hanukkah approaches), and the nine-foot menorah on the lawn (the one pictured below was the first incarnation and is only a six-footer), we mostly spent the holidays lighting the menorah and opening presents each night.
Christmas was spent celebrating my birthday, normally with my mom serving a baked ziti. It was great. Now, it's spent in a whole different way. My birthday, which is always remembered by Matt, is often an afterthought by the rest of the gang who are busy and stressed and just trying to make it through Christmas. (I can't really blame them, but I always miss a cake with my name on it and actual birthday paper. I realize it's awkward timing, a tradition I began at birth and continue to this day, but birthdays do get a little lonely for me.)
Hanukkah, too, isn't really mentioned, (not for any real reason, I think) but when I'm away and I don't light the menorah, I feel sad and like I'm not being true to my traditions. (Although last year, at Matt's dad's celebration, we lit the menorah. It was sort of awkward because we did it during the day, but also really cool that he thought of it.) The first few nights of Hanukkah fall while we're in Cleveland next weekend, celebrating an early Christmas. Maybe we can talk to Matt's dad about lighting the menorah again. That would help, I think.
It's ironic, because here I am blogging about the circumstances around an interfaith holiday, but the first thing I thought to do when it turned December was put the tree up. Our tree is beautiful, even though we phoned it in this year, and didn't put on all of the ornaments. It does have a string of Hanukkah lights as garland. I think our electric menorah finally gave up last year (it had been lit for as long as I can remember), so we'll have to get another one this year and place it next to the tree. I love how the menorah and the Christmas tree look together. It reminds me how special and lucky we are to have each other -- and each other's traditions.
I was reading URJ's magazine Reform Judaism, and they talked about how interfaith couples "do" the holidays. One couple asked their family to wrap their stuff in Hanukkah paper. Another family still did the big Christmas shindig, but also hosted a Hanukkah party for the family with potato latkes, dreidels, and much singing. We don't have anything like that yet.
I'm really looking forward to making our own traditions. We have one: the special ornament tradition. Every year since we started dating, we give each other an ornament. It's the last ornament we put on the tree. I can't wait until we spend more time together and create additional traditions that we can pass onto the next generation. (Is that little feet I hear?) And, maybe, one year, we'll just stay home for the holidays. My fourth self really loves the idea of that jacuzzi.
I love going to Matt's folks in Ohio for Christmas. There's something magical about having Christmas morning at Nanny and Papa's. Nanny has so much joy for the day. It's great fun to have the whole gang troop over, gather in a large circle in the basement, and let the present-opening begin. But I know when I'm in Ohio, I'm not in Florida with my parents. There's over a dozen of us that gathers in Columbus. My folks just have us. (Okay, that's not entirely true, as my aunt and cousins come over too. My aunt's parents, who have been like grandparents to me, attend. Often, my friend Travis joins us for the festivities as well.)
I'm not saying what I want to say well. What I'm trying to say is that the holidays are now happy-sad, to use a Cabbage Patch Kids term. I wish I could split myself in two, three, or four (that's really what's needed: one of me with my folks, one with Matt's mom's folks, one with Matt's dad's folks, and one of me soaking in the Jacuzzi tub).
I am especially contemplative because we don't have any real traditions and I'd like to create them. Other than the putting the spinning dreidel on the roof (I'll try and post video as Hanukkah approaches), and the nine-foot menorah on the lawn (the one pictured below was the first incarnation and is only a six-footer), we mostly spent the holidays lighting the menorah and opening presents each night.
Christmas was spent celebrating my birthday, normally with my mom serving a baked ziti. It was great. Now, it's spent in a whole different way. My birthday, which is always remembered by Matt, is often an afterthought by the rest of the gang who are busy and stressed and just trying to make it through Christmas. (I can't really blame them, but I always miss a cake with my name on it and actual birthday paper. I realize it's awkward timing, a tradition I began at birth and continue to this day, but birthdays do get a little lonely for me.)
Hanukkah, too, isn't really mentioned, (not for any real reason, I think) but when I'm away and I don't light the menorah, I feel sad and like I'm not being true to my traditions. (Although last year, at Matt's dad's celebration, we lit the menorah. It was sort of awkward because we did it during the day, but also really cool that he thought of it.) The first few nights of Hanukkah fall while we're in Cleveland next weekend, celebrating an early Christmas. Maybe we can talk to Matt's dad about lighting the menorah again. That would help, I think.
It's ironic, because here I am blogging about the circumstances around an interfaith holiday, but the first thing I thought to do when it turned December was put the tree up. Our tree is beautiful, even though we phoned it in this year, and didn't put on all of the ornaments. It does have a string of Hanukkah lights as garland. I think our electric menorah finally gave up last year (it had been lit for as long as I can remember), so we'll have to get another one this year and place it next to the tree. I love how the menorah and the Christmas tree look together. It reminds me how special and lucky we are to have each other -- and each other's traditions.
I was reading URJ's magazine Reform Judaism, and they talked about how interfaith couples "do" the holidays. One couple asked their family to wrap their stuff in Hanukkah paper. Another family still did the big Christmas shindig, but also hosted a Hanukkah party for the family with potato latkes, dreidels, and much singing. We don't have anything like that yet.
I'm really looking forward to making our own traditions. We have one: the special ornament tradition. Every year since we started dating, we give each other an ornament. It's the last ornament we put on the tree. I can't wait until we spend more time together and create additional traditions that we can pass onto the next generation. (Is that little feet I hear?) And, maybe, one year, we'll just stay home for the holidays. My fourth self really loves the idea of that jacuzzi.
30 November 2006
File: Home
It is official. Here we are signing the deed. We are homeowners, yippee! Matt has a full account over on Larsenopolis.
File: Home
So, today's the day. As you can tell by the time, I'm not sleeping. I've been up since 3. Hopefully, I won't crash too hard as we're signing papers.
I'm giddy and nervous about being a homeowner. As usual, we've packed an ambitious day: post office, bank if needed, closing, moving estimate, IKEA, prime and paint, celebrate.
Shoot up a little prayer for us that everyone goes without a hitch. Go time is in less than six hours.
I'm giddy and nervous about being a homeowner. As usual, we've packed an ambitious day: post office, bank if needed, closing, moving estimate, IKEA, prime and paint, celebrate.
Shoot up a little prayer for us that everyone goes without a hitch. Go time is in less than six hours.
27 November 2006
File: Holidays
On the Friday before Thanksgiving, I was driving to meet up with friends for a night on the town. I was late. It was dark and cold outside. I got off the expressway and saw a man sitting by the side of the road. That's pretty common in Chicago, so I don't know what about him tugged at my heartstrings.
He had a cup and a sign. The sign read "Vietnam Vet," which I guess in some circles explains why he was sitting in the 32 degree darkness on a milk crate next to the Division St. off- ramp.
I didn't have any money in my wallet, but I knew I wanted to give him what I did have. We keep a pink Hello Kitty change purse in the car for use on tolls. I grabbed the change purse and rolled down my window. He didn't turn to me.
"Excuse me, sir," I said, holding up the change purse. "Do you need some help?"
He said yes, and I dumped all of the change into his cup. A few coins, pennies I think, dropped on the ground, he bent to pick them up, which I felt bad about, seeing this grown man bend on the road for pennies.
"G-d bless you," he said.
"Thanks, you too, sir. Stay warm and safe."
"G-d bless you. Bless you."
I don't know why that exchange made me uncomfortable, but it did. Was it just because that's the cliched dialog?
There's an old Jewish proverb that an angel of light and an angel of darkness go from house to house every Friday night, searching for people celebrating Shabbat together. It's traditionally told with the angels looking in the window onto a family dinner. If the family is celebrating together, then the angel of light gets a point. When the family isn't together, the angel of darkness gets a point. Only when the angel of darkness gets no points will the Messiah come.
I'm not sure how I feel about the Messianic age, but I know that our house isn't always contributing to it. We rarely go to shul together, and with shows, and rehearsals, and friends, and sheer end-of-the-week exhaustion, we don't always have a nice meal. Do you think that mitzvahs, done in the moment, just because should count? I do.
We hosted Thanksgiving this year. It was sad to be away from our families, but we celebrated with friends. I feel triumphant about it. We managed to serve a multi-course meal that was delicious while in the middle of packing up the apartment. We cleaned as we went, so the house was back to normal by Friday afternoon. It was pretty awesome.
At my parents' house, we all go around the table and tell what we're thankful for. I instituted that tradition in our house as well. We played Nok-Hockey, another South Florida Turkey Day tradition.
A few things to kvell about this Thanksgiving:
Our friends Karen and Dave are now the proud parents of a son, Henry John. He joins adorable older sis, Evelyn, in the family household. We're so excited and happy for you guys!
My Aunt Ellen and cousins Wes, Shane, and Barrie marched in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This link from my old paper, the Sun-Sentinel, has the full story, pics, and video. It was so cool to ssee them on national tv!
It looks like the house is going to happen! We've been packing over the weekend, including the initial bins of essentials. We bought paint yesterday. One quart of lavender, one quart of blue, and one gallon of red later, we're on the way to making this place ours!
Hope your Thanksgiving was as blessed and happy as ours was.
He had a cup and a sign. The sign read "Vietnam Vet," which I guess in some circles explains why he was sitting in the 32 degree darkness on a milk crate next to the Division St. off- ramp.
I didn't have any money in my wallet, but I knew I wanted to give him what I did have. We keep a pink Hello Kitty change purse in the car for use on tolls. I grabbed the change purse and rolled down my window. He didn't turn to me.
"Excuse me, sir," I said, holding up the change purse. "Do you need some help?"
He said yes, and I dumped all of the change into his cup. A few coins, pennies I think, dropped on the ground, he bent to pick them up, which I felt bad about, seeing this grown man bend on the road for pennies.
"G-d bless you," he said.
"Thanks, you too, sir. Stay warm and safe."
"G-d bless you. Bless you."
I don't know why that exchange made me uncomfortable, but it did. Was it just because that's the cliched dialog?
There's an old Jewish proverb that an angel of light and an angel of darkness go from house to house every Friday night, searching for people celebrating Shabbat together. It's traditionally told with the angels looking in the window onto a family dinner. If the family is celebrating together, then the angel of light gets a point. When the family isn't together, the angel of darkness gets a point. Only when the angel of darkness gets no points will the Messiah come.
I'm not sure how I feel about the Messianic age, but I know that our house isn't always contributing to it. We rarely go to shul together, and with shows, and rehearsals, and friends, and sheer end-of-the-week exhaustion, we don't always have a nice meal. Do you think that mitzvahs, done in the moment, just because should count? I do.
We hosted Thanksgiving this year. It was sad to be away from our families, but we celebrated with friends. I feel triumphant about it. We managed to serve a multi-course meal that was delicious while in the middle of packing up the apartment. We cleaned as we went, so the house was back to normal by Friday afternoon. It was pretty awesome.
At my parents' house, we all go around the table and tell what we're thankful for. I instituted that tradition in our house as well. We played Nok-Hockey, another South Florida Turkey Day tradition.
A few things to kvell about this Thanksgiving:
Our friends Karen and Dave are now the proud parents of a son, Henry John. He joins adorable older sis, Evelyn, in the family household. We're so excited and happy for you guys!
My Aunt Ellen and cousins Wes, Shane, and Barrie marched in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This link from my old paper, the Sun-Sentinel, has the full story, pics, and video. It was so cool to ssee them on national tv!
It looks like the house is going to happen! We've been packing over the weekend, including the initial bins of essentials. We bought paint yesterday. One quart of lavender, one quart of blue, and one gallon of red later, we're on the way to making this place ours!
Hope your Thanksgiving was as blessed and happy as ours was.
22 November 2006
File: The Past
Matt and I were in the car yesterday and somehow started talking about 5th grade courses. Part of my health offering was "Me-ology," the study of YOU. (From my recollection, that phrase and capitalization is how they introduced the course to us.)
Essentially, the course was a prep for when they separated the boys and the girls and talked to us about sex. Not sure what kind of souvenirs the boys got, but volunteer moms (thank G-d not mine) threw tampons at us. It was traumatizing, or at the very least, very very strange. The girl cafeteria experience, not necessarily Me-ology.
Me-ology was kind of fun. We had this little packet with a hand-drawn kid on the front. I can't remember most of the course (is that why I'm still trying to figure myself out?), but one of the things that sticks in my mind is the Me-Doll. They had us lie down on butcher paper and then traced our fronts and our backs. We decorated them to look like us, and then we stuffed and stapled them. They were life-size* and were pretty cool.
Although, the bus was pretty crowded the day we took them home. (How strange would that have been to a passing car? A busload of kids with kids that looked like them on their laps. Very odd.) I wonder what ever happened to my "me."
*Matt reminded me that they would be slightly smaller than life-size, as they would lose yardage when stuffed and stapled.
Essentially, the course was a prep for when they separated the boys and the girls and talked to us about sex. Not sure what kind of souvenirs the boys got, but volunteer moms (thank G-d not mine) threw tampons at us. It was traumatizing, or at the very least, very very strange. The girl cafeteria experience, not necessarily Me-ology.
Me-ology was kind of fun. We had this little packet with a hand-drawn kid on the front. I can't remember most of the course (is that why I'm still trying to figure myself out?), but one of the things that sticks in my mind is the Me-Doll. They had us lie down on butcher paper and then traced our fronts and our backs. We decorated them to look like us, and then we stuffed and stapled them. They were life-size* and were pretty cool.
Although, the bus was pretty crowded the day we took them home. (How strange would that have been to a passing car? A busload of kids with kids that looked like them on their laps. Very odd.) I wonder what ever happened to my "me."
*Matt reminded me that they would be slightly smaller than life-size, as they would lose yardage when stuffed and stapled.
18 November 2006
File: Home
So, things are better. The home inspection for the new place came back very favorable. (Yay!) So, now we just continue marching forward, getting all of our ducks in a row (as my tenth grade history teacher would say). We close on the 30th, twelve short days until we are homeowners.
I'm excited. I've held back my excitement due to my disappointment with the last place but I'm really starting to picture this place as ours. I bought my first items exclusively for the new home: chocolate brown towels.
Here's what the bathroom looks like now. Here's my idea to transform it. Hence, the chocolate brown towels.
Packing is going well. I hope to finish more rooms today.
I'm excited. I've held back my excitement due to my disappointment with the last place but I'm really starting to picture this place as ours. I bought my first items exclusively for the new home: chocolate brown towels.
Here's what the bathroom looks like now. Here's my idea to transform it. Hence, the chocolate brown towels.
Packing is going well. I hope to finish more rooms today.
31 October 2006
File: Life
Been kind of quiet on here recently. It's gotten a bit rough for me in Chi-town. The routine has been some variation on: get up, obsessively look for houses (more of that in a moment), work, come home, go to bed and obsessively look for houses, come downstairs for edamame and rice, go back to bed, obsessively look for houses, then sleep, exhausted.
The condo purchase fell through. I haven't wanted to blog about it. There's so much going on in the world and I'm sad because buying the condo I wanted is a bad idea, oh, boo for me. But, I am sad.
We lost some money on the deal. ($270 for home inspection, the best cash I've ever spent in my life; $80 for the lawyer.) Turns out that the great big condo had some issues. Examples: faulty electricity, possible plumbing corrosion, insulation installed incorrectly, furnace installed incorrectly, dangerous space heaters/no furnace, ponding water in the basement, mold, weird bugs, either no money in the reserves or no idea where they put the money in the reserves and the big finish of the flaking asbestos pipe.
Grr.
**Update** I realize I never posted the initial ramblings above, written 10/31. Things have gotten better. We found another place that we like a lot. It has central air, central heat, a washer/dryer, (Matt was practically doing cartwheels at this point), a working fireplace, and two secret squirrel rooms in the basement better known as the bat cave. It was completely redone at the turn of this century (2000 -- tee, hee), and it's huge. It's growing on me. It initially lacks the charm of the other places we really liked, but as Matt's dad, the architect, says, you can create charm. Structure is harder. The more we're in the space (and we've been in it the last two weekends), the more I like it. I've been dreaming about wall colors and furniture arranging. We'll have the awesome problem of not having enough furniture for the space, Yay! We had the inspection on Saturday and it went very well. Now, it's just waiting. I think we're going to close on Nov. 30 so a December move is in our future.
We decided not to go to Florida for Thanksgiving. The fare was insane ($800 each!) and we really need the time to get organized and pack. We started packing seriously over the weekend -- one run to the Brown Elephant and 5 boxes and one trunk packed so far. I plan to pack my office in a moment before I leave for work. I love packing. I don't even mind unpacking. It makes me feel in control and organized and I love being organized. It also allows me a chance to go through everything and filter what I have from what I need.
My mom's having surgery at the end of November and my dad is getting shots in his hips in early December. The schedules didn't work, so we're going down in mid January, timeshifting Hanukkah, my birthday, and my dad's birthday all at once.
Okay, I need to pack before work.
The condo purchase fell through. I haven't wanted to blog about it. There's so much going on in the world and I'm sad because buying the condo I wanted is a bad idea, oh, boo for me. But, I am sad.
We lost some money on the deal. ($270 for home inspection, the best cash I've ever spent in my life; $80 for the lawyer.) Turns out that the great big condo had some issues. Examples: faulty electricity, possible plumbing corrosion, insulation installed incorrectly, furnace installed incorrectly, dangerous space heaters/no furnace, ponding water in the basement, mold, weird bugs, either no money in the reserves or no idea where they put the money in the reserves and the big finish of the flaking asbestos pipe.
Grr.
**Update** I realize I never posted the initial ramblings above, written 10/31. Things have gotten better. We found another place that we like a lot. It has central air, central heat, a washer/dryer, (Matt was practically doing cartwheels at this point), a working fireplace, and two secret squirrel rooms in the basement better known as the bat cave. It was completely redone at the turn of this century (2000 -- tee, hee), and it's huge. It's growing on me. It initially lacks the charm of the other places we really liked, but as Matt's dad, the architect, says, you can create charm. Structure is harder. The more we're in the space (and we've been in it the last two weekends), the more I like it. I've been dreaming about wall colors and furniture arranging. We'll have the awesome problem of not having enough furniture for the space, Yay! We had the inspection on Saturday and it went very well. Now, it's just waiting. I think we're going to close on Nov. 30 so a December move is in our future.
We decided not to go to Florida for Thanksgiving. The fare was insane ($800 each!) and we really need the time to get organized and pack. We started packing seriously over the weekend -- one run to the Brown Elephant and 5 boxes and one trunk packed so far. I plan to pack my office in a moment before I leave for work. I love packing. I don't even mind unpacking. It makes me feel in control and organized and I love being organized. It also allows me a chance to go through everything and filter what I have from what I need.
My mom's having surgery at the end of November and my dad is getting shots in his hips in early December. The schedules didn't work, so we're going down in mid January, timeshifting Hanukkah, my birthday, and my dad's birthday all at once.
Okay, I need to pack before work.
22 October 2006
File: Sports
This is Matt yesterday when he picked up his number. We saw him at mile 7.5 and he was looking great. I just got an email from his tracker. He hit the half.
He finished. Lots of emotion from me, lots of tiredness from him. He's recovering. He tells the tale better on his blog. Had lots of fun with Matt's dad and Deb taking the train and skipping all over town. We only saw Matt twice; he only saw us once (at a half mile from the finish).I'm so proud of him, I could just kvell.
13 October 2006
12 October 2006
11 October 2006
09 October 2006
File: Life
Here we are with Iliana, our awesome realtor, with our offer to purchase. After a little negotiation, our offer was accepted. We are on the way to owning!
Yes, this took the cake in terms of excitement.We are buying a house! By house, I mean pretty duplex condo on the northside of the city (Edgewater). It's large and has a lot of potential. And is pretty! And a fireplace! And places for the bookshelves. Oh, so much happiness a girl could burst. Who knew the bank would approve us for a mortgage? It feels so grown-up, but yet at the same time, perfectly normal. Very strange indeed. Yippee!
08 October 2006
File: Life
My photogrqpher.
This is from a moment when he was photographing me and I was photographing him before we went apple picking. Apple picking was a blast, but surprisingly not the highlight of our weekend...01 October 2006
File: Life
Cubs game with Travis. Cubs are down, Trav and I are up. He says We are having fun. He is also worried about his double chin.
He doesn't have one.It was nice for the Cubs to finally win one. We both got pictures of the last pitch.
15 September 2006
File: Life
So, we're back from New York. It was a great place to visit, but we've taken it off the table as a place to live. Well, until we start making $200K. We realized that we have everything we need in Chicago -- why switch it up for a harder life? Hooray.
Karen (who is adorably pregnant) had a Personal DNA Test at her blog. She's a generous idealist, which I think is accurate. I took the test. I'm
Nice to hear some words of encouragement. Things here are a changing.
We went to look at a condo last night. (We figured that since we're going to settle in Chi-town, we might as well own a piece of it.) It had a great living room, and the owner who was selling it was so nice. We wanted to love it. It had nice kitchen cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a living room with a beautiful view and ivy-covered deocrative wrought iron out front. Unfortunately, it had tiny bedrooms, no place for a kitchen table, and the most depressing alley views I'd ever seen. Had the moment when we were in the condo of thinking to myself, well, we could knock down that wall... Always a bad sign. Matt set up four more appointments for Saturday. We bought a bunch of books and our friend Kevin, who has a background in construction, has offered to come look at a place with us when we find "the one" to check it for structural soundness. Yay.
So, that's the weekend plan.
Happy Friday!
Karen (who is adorably pregnant) had a Personal DNA Test at her blog. She's a generous idealist, which I think is accurate. I took the test. I'm
Nice to hear some words of encouragement. Things here are a changing.
We went to look at a condo last night. (We figured that since we're going to settle in Chi-town, we might as well own a piece of it.) It had a great living room, and the owner who was selling it was so nice. We wanted to love it. It had nice kitchen cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a living room with a beautiful view and ivy-covered deocrative wrought iron out front. Unfortunately, it had tiny bedrooms, no place for a kitchen table, and the most depressing alley views I'd ever seen. Had the moment when we were in the condo of thinking to myself, well, we could knock down that wall... Always a bad sign. Matt set up four more appointments for Saturday. We bought a bunch of books and our friend Kevin, who has a background in construction, has offered to come look at a place with us when we find "the one" to check it for structural soundness. Yay.
So, that's the weekend plan.
Happy Friday!
05 September 2006
File: Vacation
Some dinosaur history. The Apatosaurus, which means deceptive reptile, used to be the Brontesaurus. They replaced the head with the right one and here it is. My dad was excited about us seeing the dinosaurs because he saw the same ones (although in different poses) as a kid.
04 September 2006
File: Vacation
Nathan's hot dog + beer + no reason not to drink beer at 2 pm on a Monday + free Staten Island Ferry = happy Brandi and Matt.
File: Vacation
I think I like NY the best as I leave it behind. We still have another day here, and I am enjoying our vacation, but I miss Chicago. Home sweet home.
31 August 2006
File: Vacation
Look, Mom, Radio Center Music Hall! We passed this just as the MTV Video Music Awards let out. Pretty crazy fun. We didn't see anyone other than a producer and thousands of excited yellow-shirted kids.
File: Vacation
From the top of the Empire State Building looking at the Flat Iron. Awesome. This is the big "touristy" thing we did.
File: Vacation
In NYC half a day. This is the second movie crew we have seen.
Update (Monday): no idea what was being shot. Wall Street was shut down today for what I think was an Audi commercial shoot. Fun.
File: Vacation
Chinatown. The sign reads: For this glittering pearl let drinking the tea for 5000 more years.
I love NY.
26 August 2006
25 August 2006
File: Work
It has been a rough week. I'm so grateful it's the weekend. Work has been insane. I've been getting up every morning and working late into the evening to get everything done. (I got up at 4 today.) My plan is to work all weekend, with the exception of bowling tomorrow night with Matt and a meeting with a friend from the temple on Sunday to talk about membership.
I'm just running on fumes. I worked twelve hours today, until finally the words on the page started dancing and I couldn't focus. Came home, took a nap, went to shul, am going to go to bed, and then start all over again. Oy.
I just have to survive until Wednesday. Then we leave for our NY vacation.
I'm just running on fumes. I worked twelve hours today, until finally the words on the page started dancing and I couldn't focus. Came home, took a nap, went to shul, am going to go to bed, and then start all over again. Oy.
I just have to survive until Wednesday. Then we leave for our NY vacation.
20 August 2006
File: Life
Whenever there's an occasion in my family, I try and call in to attend the party, even though I'm in Chicago. (Everyone else is in Florida.) I did that over the weekend to help my youngest cousin Barrie celebrate her 20th birthday. (As I side note, I feel so old that she's 20. I remember hearing the news that she was born and jumping up and down on my parents' bed because I now had a girl cousin.)
My mom and I were talking about that today. It's amazing how technology can make you feel closer, even when you're physically far apart. My aunt now prefers e-mail to phone conversation, which works well for me because I've never been able to nail her down on the phone because she's so busy. The web has enabled us to time-shift.
Before you start thinking that this is a post about how the Internet has enabled us all to communicate without ever having to talk, you're wrong. Similar to my feelings on the books and the Internet (book publishers will not close their doors because of the web), I think both can co-exist peacefully and one supplements the other.
My mom and I do it. She's a daily reader of Being Brandi. (Hi, Mom!) Part of what I write is because I want her to feel involved and know what's going on in my life, even if it is boring minutiae (see cute cat picture below) not worthy of long-distance or cell-phone bills. But, my mom and my friends are interested, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
I mentioned to my mom that my friend Erica, who I got to see on Friday, told me about her mom's blog, Tricia Dishes. I read it and really like it.
My mom expressed a little bit of interest in a blog. So, I set her up with one. She wanted it to be called Mom's Pages, but that url was taken. So, my dad named it Mom's The Word. I'm excited for her. And, now I'll get to know what's going on in her life. Mwah ha ha.
No, really, I'm digging this whole technology thing.
My mom and I were talking about that today. It's amazing how technology can make you feel closer, even when you're physically far apart. My aunt now prefers e-mail to phone conversation, which works well for me because I've never been able to nail her down on the phone because she's so busy. The web has enabled us to time-shift.
Before you start thinking that this is a post about how the Internet has enabled us all to communicate without ever having to talk, you're wrong. Similar to my feelings on the books and the Internet (book publishers will not close their doors because of the web), I think both can co-exist peacefully and one supplements the other.
My mom and I do it. She's a daily reader of Being Brandi. (Hi, Mom!) Part of what I write is because I want her to feel involved and know what's going on in my life, even if it is boring minutiae (see cute cat picture below) not worthy of long-distance or cell-phone bills. But, my mom and my friends are interested, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
I mentioned to my mom that my friend Erica, who I got to see on Friday, told me about her mom's blog, Tricia Dishes. I read it and really like it.
My mom expressed a little bit of interest in a blog. So, I set her up with one. She wanted it to be called Mom's Pages, but that url was taken. So, my dad named it Mom's The Word. I'm excited for her. And, now I'll get to know what's going on in her life. Mwah ha ha.
No, really, I'm digging this whole technology thing.
18 August 2006
File: Life
I took Matt to see Wait Wait Don't Tell Me last night. It was a blast. Here we are with star newsman, Carl Kasell.
13 August 2006
File: Life
My weekend project. This is the wall to the left of our front door into the apartment. Matt did the video frame (to left of word shelf). The video changes. Currently, I have our baby pictures and summer photos loading randomly at five-second intervals. I also spray-painted the shelves, framed the letters, and designed where the photos would go on the wall.
We chose "Word" because we thought "love" was overdone. We considered our initials, but then "Word" was brought up as a joke. We found it funny. And, as the room is technically the library, it seemed to fit.
In case you can't see, the little shelf spells our last name in actual typesetting letters (hence the reason it is reversed).
Yay for weekend projects!
07 August 2006
File: Life
In high school and early college, I drove a white Dodge Shadow. Coming home from college one day, my back bumper fell off on the highway, a fact my folks always found incredible and hard to believe.
Driving into work this morning, I noticed this white Dodge Shadow in front of me. I took a picture because, you'll note, it is also missing its tush.
File: Art
I did it! This is everything getting ready to be packed for my resubmission of my picture book. Scary! Now I wait.
Update: I took it to the post office. This time around, I opted for insurance and certified mail. I'll know that arrived, at least. Say a prayer for me in my first step to being a published fiction author.
01 August 2006
File: Art
I have a show tonight.
If you're in Chi-town, stop on by.
7pm.
Fizz (upstairs)
3220 N. Lincoln
$5.
PS-- Matt will be on sound, so you'll get to hear him as well.
UPDATE: The air is broken at Fizz. It's 100-something degrees inside. They've called the show until further notice. I'll keep you posted.
If you're in Chi-town, stop on by.
7pm.
Fizz (upstairs)
3220 N. Lincoln
$5.
PS-- Matt will be on sound, so you'll get to hear him as well.
UPDATE: The air is broken at Fizz. It's 100-something degrees inside. They've called the show until further notice. I'll keep you posted.
28 July 2006
File: Art, Life, Work
This is a post about books.
I miss writing about books, but I've put BookADay on hiatus, supposedly to get more writing done. When I manage to hurl myself out of bed early in the morning, I get writing done. Otherwise, I just get sleeping done. It's a work in progress.
I'm reading Making a Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers right now. I'm not very far, but one of the suggestions is to write a sweet note five times a week to someone you admire in the literary world. So, I ordered blue fold-over note stationery. I haven't received it yet, but will let you know what I think. Anyway, I decided to get ahead and think about who I would write to for the first five days. The first few are easy -- I have their works on my shelves, their words inscribed upon my heart. Jeanette Winterson, Anne Lamott, Sandra Cisneros, Nick Bantock, John Lasseter. And, writing to them scares the hell out of me. It'll be a wild ride. Once my stationery gets here.
In other book news, Dad is revising his book, Troubleshooting and Repairing Major Appliances. Buy the new one! His deadline is Christmas, which means it should come out sometime next year. The new cover was just designed. I'm attempting to upload a picture. It's pretty cool, and I'm really excited for him. Fun tidbit: I'm meeting with his editor at McGraw-Hill when Matt and I are in New York this September.
So, I finally checked out audible.com. It took me awhile because once I had found it I was so depressed I couldn't join. (That was my million-dollar idea!) I've been giving a three-month membership as part of a word-of-mouth marketing campaign headed by the BzzAgent.
BzzAgent is a pretty cool concept, by the way. People sign up to participate in campaigns -- in exchange for free stuff, you talk about what they give you and then write about what you did. The things that makes it so dynamic (and interesting for me) are the combinations of cool new stuff, talking, and writing, as well as the freedom factor. Other marketers have a specific list of things they want you to say. The same is true here (they send a packet for every campaign), but I can talk about the products/services any way I want to. If I hate something, I can tell people about it. (So far that hasn't happened. It has a secondary effect of creating brand loyalty for me to brands I never would have chosen on my own.)
Anyway, I'm part of a Bzzcampaign about audible.com. So, they signed me up for three months, and gave me three books to download at one-month increments. The sign-up was easy and quick -- the hard part was choosing which book to download. I'm normally not an audio book reader? listener? because I listened to Like Water for Chocolate years ago and hated it, hated it, hated it, but when I read the book found it to be stunning. So, I was skeptical. Audible lets you listen to snippets of books. I signed up for an audiobook at the library of a language series, but because I owe a library fine, couldn't claim it. So, I thought a language book. The one I wanted was too expensive (boo!). The site is cool because it lets you listen to snippets (most of the time, I was on a Mac, so it didn't always play for me), as well as read user comments, sort of like Amazon. They're ipod compatible, so once I settled on a book A Piece of Cake by Cupcake Brown, which is her memoir about her life on the street after being screwed by the Child Welfare System) it was easy to place on my shuffle. (It did it all for me, which was pretty cool.
The audio is pretty crisp. I don't know if this is the case of my shuffle, audible, or the audiobook format, but it doesn't have chapters, which is a pain. I can't really fast forward to other parts (the shuffle's not so great at that), but it would have been easier if it was set up like a book, with chapters. For the record, I mostly like the book. Her writing is clear and her story is moving, but she has a tendency to say things like, "And then things were looking up," and you just know that they're not. This was impactful the first few times, but now it's a bit overdone. I'm still going to listen until the end.
And, audible.com is cool (even though I'm not ready to forgive them for doing my idea better than I could have). A lot of NPR content is there. The NY Times is there (you can get it as a daily podcast for free). Their marketing blitz says that they have 27,000 abridged and unabridged titles, which sounds accurate. I think next month I'm going to download Blink, a book I've been meaning to read for awhile. You can try it, too. Here's the special offer: audible.com/bzz gets you a free download. Consider yourself bzzed.
Final work note: my boss told me the other day that we're the company responsible for putting Golden Books out of business. Golden Books! Sigh. For the record, Golden Books have since landed at Random House, so they're still publishing, but holy moly.
Ah, books.
I miss writing about books, but I've put BookADay on hiatus, supposedly to get more writing done. When I manage to hurl myself out of bed early in the morning, I get writing done. Otherwise, I just get sleeping done. It's a work in progress.
I'm reading Making a Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers right now. I'm not very far, but one of the suggestions is to write a sweet note five times a week to someone you admire in the literary world. So, I ordered blue fold-over note stationery. I haven't received it yet, but will let you know what I think. Anyway, I decided to get ahead and think about who I would write to for the first five days. The first few are easy -- I have their works on my shelves, their words inscribed upon my heart. Jeanette Winterson, Anne Lamott, Sandra Cisneros, Nick Bantock, John Lasseter. And, writing to them scares the hell out of me. It'll be a wild ride. Once my stationery gets here.
In other book news, Dad is revising his book, Troubleshooting and Repairing Major Appliances. Buy the new one! His deadline is Christmas, which means it should come out sometime next year. The new cover was just designed. I'm attempting to upload a picture. It's pretty cool, and I'm really excited for him. Fun tidbit: I'm meeting with his editor at McGraw-Hill when Matt and I are in New York this September.
So, I finally checked out audible.com. It took me awhile because once I had found it I was so depressed I couldn't join. (That was my million-dollar idea!) I've been giving a three-month membership as part of a word-of-mouth marketing campaign headed by the BzzAgent.
BzzAgent is a pretty cool concept, by the way. People sign up to participate in campaigns -- in exchange for free stuff, you talk about what they give you and then write about what you did. The things that makes it so dynamic (and interesting for me) are the combinations of cool new stuff, talking, and writing, as well as the freedom factor. Other marketers have a specific list of things they want you to say. The same is true here (they send a packet for every campaign), but I can talk about the products/services any way I want to. If I hate something, I can tell people about it. (So far that hasn't happened. It has a secondary effect of creating brand loyalty for me to brands I never would have chosen on my own.)
Anyway, I'm part of a Bzzcampaign about audible.com. So, they signed me up for three months, and gave me three books to download at one-month increments. The sign-up was easy and quick -- the hard part was choosing which book to download. I'm normally not an audio book reader? listener? because I listened to Like Water for Chocolate years ago and hated it, hated it, hated it, but when I read the book found it to be stunning. So, I was skeptical. Audible lets you listen to snippets of books. I signed up for an audiobook at the library of a language series, but because I owe a library fine, couldn't claim it. So, I thought a language book. The one I wanted was too expensive (boo!). The site is cool because it lets you listen to snippets (most of the time, I was on a Mac, so it didn't always play for me), as well as read user comments, sort of like Amazon. They're ipod compatible, so once I settled on a book A Piece of Cake by Cupcake Brown, which is her memoir about her life on the street after being screwed by the Child Welfare System) it was easy to place on my shuffle. (It did it all for me, which was pretty cool.
The audio is pretty crisp. I don't know if this is the case of my shuffle, audible, or the audiobook format, but it doesn't have chapters, which is a pain. I can't really fast forward to other parts (the shuffle's not so great at that), but it would have been easier if it was set up like a book, with chapters. For the record, I mostly like the book. Her writing is clear and her story is moving, but she has a tendency to say things like, "And then things were looking up," and you just know that they're not. This was impactful the first few times, but now it's a bit overdone. I'm still going to listen until the end.
And, audible.com is cool (even though I'm not ready to forgive them for doing my idea better than I could have). A lot of NPR content is there. The NY Times is there (you can get it as a daily podcast for free). Their marketing blitz says that they have 27,000 abridged and unabridged titles, which sounds accurate. I think next month I'm going to download Blink, a book I've been meaning to read for awhile. You can try it, too. Here's the special offer: audible.com/bzz gets you a free download. Consider yourself bzzed.
Final work note: my boss told me the other day that we're the company responsible for putting Golden Books out of business. Golden Books! Sigh. For the record, Golden Books have since landed at Random House, so they're still publishing, but holy moly.
Ah, books.
25 July 2006
File: Life
And here I am with my silkscreen adventure. Yeah, it reads "book smart." Because I am.
Matt found the tutorial here: http://community.livejournal.com/craftgrrl/3674467.html. We found the instructions to be straight-forward and easy-to-follow. The Modge Podge did take longer to dry than expected (more like 45 minutes rather than 15), but that may have been the way we applied the glue. The plan is to do more soon. It was fun!
File: Life
We t-shirt screened tonight. Here is Prime by Matt after our friend O.P. It looks awesome!
10 July 2006
File: Life
Anytime I clean the house, I feel like a rockstar. I realize how ridiculous that is, but it's true. I feel like I've just run a marathon, played for the President, conquered a culprit. So, while Matt ran 10 miles yesterday, I scrubbed the kitchen.
I had felt inspired because he did a Make blog project, turning his old Powerbook into a picture frame. It now displays our photos in a continuous slideshow. He hung it on the wall, just to see how it's going to look. It's going to be awesome.
So, I felt like I needed to do something. We both want to solve our house ugly. Our problem is that we clean in manic-like states. The house gets to be too much, then we freak out and do a marathon-cleaning. We talked about this yesterday, too. Part of the reason for this is that we're both designers. To use Matt's words, we'd rather take the time to figure out how to make something to sweep the stairs, rather than just sweeping the stairs. I put up a chore list in the kitchen. It's a weekly chore list. We decided that a week was Monday-Sunday, so I couldn’t check anything off. This was okay because I wanted to clean anyway. So, I cleaned the kitchen. Our biggest problem is the accumulation of stuff. Things just pile upon pile. But, I did it. I made it through the kitchen (and only the kitchen, following the one project at a time rule which I’m notorious for breaking), fixing things that had bugged me for awhile. (For example, we don't hang pictures for whatever reason. So, I stacked them nicely and placed them artistically throughout the kitchen and felt that I made a design choice. I created a space that we want to be in. And I feel like a superhero for that.
Our friend Karen calls cleaning “blessing the house.” I love that term because it feels so true.
Tonight, I conquer my laundry.
I had felt inspired because he did a Make blog project, turning his old Powerbook into a picture frame. It now displays our photos in a continuous slideshow. He hung it on the wall, just to see how it's going to look. It's going to be awesome.
So, I felt like I needed to do something. We both want to solve our house ugly. Our problem is that we clean in manic-like states. The house gets to be too much, then we freak out and do a marathon-cleaning. We talked about this yesterday, too. Part of the reason for this is that we're both designers. To use Matt's words, we'd rather take the time to figure out how to make something to sweep the stairs, rather than just sweeping the stairs. I put up a chore list in the kitchen. It's a weekly chore list. We decided that a week was Monday-Sunday, so I couldn’t check anything off. This was okay because I wanted to clean anyway. So, I cleaned the kitchen. Our biggest problem is the accumulation of stuff. Things just pile upon pile. But, I did it. I made it through the kitchen (and only the kitchen, following the one project at a time rule which I’m notorious for breaking), fixing things that had bugged me for awhile. (For example, we don't hang pictures for whatever reason. So, I stacked them nicely and placed them artistically throughout the kitchen and felt that I made a design choice. I created a space that we want to be in. And I feel like a superhero for that.
Our friend Karen calls cleaning “blessing the house.” I love that term because it feels so true.
Tonight, I conquer my laundry.
21 June 2006
File: Art
I feel like a rockstar.
I did it. I revised a story. This may sound like nothing, but it's something big to me. This is my kid's book that I took out for a spin last year. I sent it to a publishing company, never heard back, so did nothing. So much for persistence (which, ironically, is what the story is about).
As part of my revised schedule, I've been working in the mornings on writing. Some mornings I actually write. But most mornings, I've been revising my work. It's hard to tear something down that I once thought was so good. I still think this story has a weak point, but I'm proud of it. I took it from a draft to a polished story.
It makes me feel amazing.
Yay!
Btw, I'm searching Chicago for a writer's group.
I did it. I revised a story. This may sound like nothing, but it's something big to me. This is my kid's book that I took out for a spin last year. I sent it to a publishing company, never heard back, so did nothing. So much for persistence (which, ironically, is what the story is about).
As part of my revised schedule, I've been working in the mornings on writing. Some mornings I actually write. But most mornings, I've been revising my work. It's hard to tear something down that I once thought was so good. I still think this story has a weak point, but I'm proud of it. I took it from a draft to a polished story.
It makes me feel amazing.
Yay!
Btw, I'm searching Chicago for a writer's group.
19 June 2006
File: Friends
Congrats to Erica and Fuzzy on their upcoming nuptials. Here they are cutting the cake at their bridal shower.
15 June 2006
File: Life
I've been back from Seattle for a few weeks now.
I've been struggling with a funk. Things are hard right now. Working through them, but they're hard.
I've been trying to establish a new routine. I kept feeling that I was cheating myself out of time; that I wasn't accomplishing anything. So, I decided to change that.
Most mornings, I get up early. I go to the gym. I write. I have a bunch of writing projects that I'm working on. Revising the screenplay. Dusting off the short stories. Figuring out how to really shop my kid's book, Voza Sings. A memoir. It sounds pretentious to even write that.
In typical Brandi style, I jumped in with both feet. I feel more creatively fulfilled, but haven't had the time and energy for my beloved blogs. Sorry about that, but I need to do this for me.
It's hard taking ownership on things. Putting a stake in the ground and saying, "Mine!" I'm learning how to do that more. I may have gone too far in the other direction because I've mostly stopped cleaning the house and the fishtank is turning greenish. It's all about balance.
I've been struggling with a funk. Things are hard right now. Working through them, but they're hard.
I've been trying to establish a new routine. I kept feeling that I was cheating myself out of time; that I wasn't accomplishing anything. So, I decided to change that.
Most mornings, I get up early. I go to the gym. I write. I have a bunch of writing projects that I'm working on. Revising the screenplay. Dusting off the short stories. Figuring out how to really shop my kid's book, Voza Sings. A memoir. It sounds pretentious to even write that.
In typical Brandi style, I jumped in with both feet. I feel more creatively fulfilled, but haven't had the time and energy for my beloved blogs. Sorry about that, but I need to do this for me.
It's hard taking ownership on things. Putting a stake in the ground and saying, "Mine!" I'm learning how to do that more. I may have gone too far in the other direction because I've mostly stopped cleaning the house and the fishtank is turning greenish. It's all about balance.
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