Christmas Time is Here

I can't believe how difficult this month has been, and yet I'm surprised Christmas is in only two days. I'm happy for it and to see relatives that weren't able to make it for Thanksgiving. I hope the presents I've made are well received and that the scheduling of three Christmases will go smoothly.

It's strange that the Christmas spirit feels different from year to year. I don't know how to elaborate beyond that. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas and a fabulous holiday weekend!

(Picture from Christmas window display of Bergdorf Goodman in New York)

Skin Deep

I read an article awhile back from a photographer that captured a model's face frame by frame only changing the lenses he used to capture the image. The change from one picture to the next was dramatic.

I think a lot about what that says of beauty and perception. I have always been the 'smart' girl whether or not I deserved the moniker. Occasionally, I would wonder why I couldn't try out 'pretty' girl. Now it seems I'd rather be beautiful than pretty. Beauty means something new to me. It's not effected by hairstyle or varying shades of lipstick. It radiates throughout the whole face. I wonder if I'll ever get to capture it beyond just mere glimpses. Maybe one day.

Toons

I have some experience seeing myself in cartoon form. Various caricatures and birthday cards from friends. I quite enjoyed seeing some of the citizens of Pawnee in cartoon form today. Parks and Recreation is one of my favorite television shows. I can't appropriately describe how refreshing it is to see a group of quirky, intelligent people come together to mine the hilarity and sweet moments of the every day.

Almost everything about Parks and Rec makes me happy, but this clip had me singing to myself for several weeks after:

Actually

My intention to post about my favorite Christmas movie, Love Actually, has been hindered by a memory that has reduced the experience to hazy bits. Fortunately, I plan to remedy this problem by watching it with my sisters this week.

Love Actually is what I imagine Valentine's Day and New Years to be, (if I ever got around to seeing either) but British. I will be fair to say that British does not always mean better, but the reviews I have heard of the Garry Marshall films have not been kind.

Anyway, Love Actually is a series of vignettes of various people spending the holidays. The cast is sprinkled with prominent British actors and so it is not always easy to pick a favorite. The movie can also be misconstrued as a Valentine's Day film as many of the characters deal with love or love lost in some form. I guess that's an aspect of the holidays that can either be good or bad.

Christmas focuses on the relationships we have with each other. Now that I have finished my to do Christmas list, I feel like I can actually enjoy myself. The process will need to be perfected next year. Delivering gifts these past couple of days have been wonderful and I imagine the family Christmas parties will be great, but I'd like to actually enjoy putting together the gifts. I want the whole experience to be good. Is that asking too much? I can't be sure.

Nevermore

Last Friday, I looked out the window into the dark expanse of nothing as the car carried me further out into the sticks. The husband and I went to visit friends we only ever see a few times a year.

I took this time to think of the letters I occasionally write to myself not to be opened until several years later. My reasons for doing this comes from the desire to pinpoint snapshots of time, but I invariably leave disappointed when the letters are finally opened. I suppose I find myself too unchanged.

The car ride provided its own lull of time and I wondered if I would fair better writing to my past self, being able to read letters of my future. But now that I've gone over the idea more thoroughly, I imagine it would come with the same disappointments of my past.

I just finished The Petting Zoo by Jim Carroll. Billy Wolfram, a celebrated painter, begins to question his identity when he attends an exhibit of Velasquez paintings. The reaction evolves into an emotional breakdown that has him communicating with ravens, checking into a mental facility and taking up pool. His memories scatter throughout the story and the conversations he has with his best friend, Denny, sound like conversations with himself.

Billy's success and the inheritance received from his late mentor have freed him from temporal constraints, but he is hopelessly mired in the emotional.

I think a way not to lose yourself is finding footholds that can keep you present. Keep you sane. The letters to myself didn't quite fulfill the kind of reflection I was hoping for.

The footholds need to be stronger, a measure of support that holds you together or that you can clasp like a talisman until it's safe again. I know even those might not be enough, but I'm hopeful I'll always find myself again when I get too lost.

Not going to Lie...

Kristen Bell is kind of my favorite. So much so that I was going to post something completely different today but will instead post videos about her new series, House of Lies, airing next month.

Boom:



Also, this:



And:

My dark and stormy night

My drive home tonight found me pushing through columns of terrible fog. Normally, I'm a pretty nervous driver in poor weather conditions, but tonight was different. Maybe it was the music that was playing on the radio. Emily's Wednesday Night Mixtape on KRCL was playing some fun Euro pop. I am terrible at describing sounds, but I was definitely getting a Parisian Beach Boys kind of vibe. Who can be scared with that playing in the background?

At one point, with the street signs obscured and car headlights flashing across my field of vision it became a possibility that my life could start to turn into a movie. Maybe a comedy. Maybe a horror story. For just a few moments until I parked, I felt the buzz of...something. I feel like I don't always pause long enough to take in the day. I'm going to make a better effort this week.

Clear Eyes

I'm a poor judge of love. I should clarify, poor observer of love. Maybe it's the over-saturation of romantic comedies or television triangles and quadrangles preventing me from identifying genuine love out of the desires and passions of men.

I finished The End of the Affair by Graham Greene yesterday and I'm struggling to come to a conclusion about my regard for the three main characters. I'm not sure why it's important to know if the love Sarah had for Bendrix was real, but it feels important. Is it more than desire, more than the thrill? Can love be true if it makes you more miserable than happy?

My guess? The love that brings more sorrow than joy can be real, but it can't be sustained.

"What are we doing to each other?" Sarah writes in her journal. "Because I know that I am doing to him exactly what he is doing to me. We are sometimes so happy, and never in our lives have we known more unhappiness. It's as if we were working together on the same statue, cutting it out of each other's misery. But I don't even know the design."

My three year wedding anniversary is in exactly two weeks and I can't help but want to have my marriage fashioned after Eric and Tami Taylor from Friday Night Lights. I know teamwork, genuine admiration, and the mutual support of love is less sexy than overwrought declarations, escapades, and fisticuffs but the former feels more real. And the love that I have for my husband makes me want it to last.

Waitress

Somewhere along the way, I have found the necessity for courage diminish and with the absence of opportunities my ability to produce bravery at a moment has also declined. Now, when once my confidence was so strong, I need to store it in parcels until I can bring it out for public consumption. I will rely on this storage when singing at the annual company Christmas party this week. I will also wonder why I let my boss convince me to sign up for these things every year.

Jenna Hunterson is a sweet waitress with a talent for making pies. She also leads the kind of quiet life that doesn't always ask for courage. But Jenna is unhappy and soon she finds out the source of her unhappiness, her husband, has contributed to her getting knocked up. All she wants to do is save enough money in tips and a pie contest to get out of her unhappy life.

In the movie, she writes letters to her unborn baby, letting this child know her flaws, her fears, her sorrows. When the baby finally comes, all the uncertainty seems to melt away and everything becomes clear. I know that clarity isn't always enough to make the decision to change things for the better, but it helps.

In my own small way, the busyness of my life seems to be petering out with each task I check off. At some point, I hope for true serenity with a completely satisfied list. But until then, there's always pie.

Literary Pursuits

Next week, my book club has its annual potluck where we go around recommending new books for the following year. Last year, I recommended four books. The book that was selected out of the four was The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents by Terri Pratchett. One person besides myself actually liked the book when it came time for everyone to read.

I realized early on that the enjoyment of book club would sometimes consist of me disagreeing with everyone. Every month its a new round of excitement. There is something to be said about the pleasure that comes with being in absolute disagreement with someone, maybe a few someones, and still foster open communication and even lightheartedness.

This is a loud group, but so fun!

I'm changing it up this year and recommending books on my to-read list than old favorites. I think. I haven't quite pinned anything down. Either way, I know I will be taking on the following titles in some form in the new year.

Moonwalking with Einstein: The Art and Science of Remembering Everything by Joshua Foer
The Angel Esmeralda & Nine Stories by Don DeLillo
The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obrent

For those curious, yes, I poached all of these titles from Michiko Kakutani's Picks for 2011.

Getting There

I stayed up way too late yesterday to watch the Eureka holiday episode and I can't decide if I liked that more or less than tonight's Parks and Recreation's Christmas episode. UPDATE: Parks and Rec has won the debate.

The former had snow ninja, the latter had Ron F'ing Swanson in marshmallow form. Delights all around. I am finding that Christmas themed television programming is allowing me the zen I need to get through these first couple of frenzied weeks.

I promise. The 19th, baby. That's when I will be dazzling with Christmas cheer.

Sweet Treats

Tonight was a day of test baking for Christmas. I should clarify that the husband did most of the baking while I half-hardheartedly observed and knitted. The testing was fortuitous in that there were a couple of changes we'll be making for the real batches, but checking things off of our list is getting a little easier.

In the mean time, I thank the internets for Janelle Monae Radio on Pandora. Best music to knit by. Things are looking up as this was the first day that the sound of Christmas music didn't make my eyes water. Yay!

Longing to Stray

My mind has circled around Manhattan this year. Not only has a quarter of my reading material been set in New York, the shows I'm watching, the sites I go to, the movies, well, maybe less movies, but still, it's a whole lot of New York.

Next year will be my first trip to the Empire State (see how I totally avoided to call it The Big Apple) and I plan to eat too much food and avoid looking up at the skyscrapers that will surely overwhelm me.

I know it's probably too soon to even be posting this since my trip won't be until next fall, but vacation planning seems so preferable right now.

Also, Gossip Girl's fall finale was last night and so my focus is now solely on a to do list that I'd rather avoid.

I tried finding a clip of Carey Mulligan singing New York, New York in her new movie, Shame, but I could only find the trailer.

Finding Joy

In two weeks, I will submerge myself in the true spirit of Christmas, but until then I will be twirling like a dervish to get my Christmas list done. The prospects of finishing on time are dwindling and the dwindling is making my heart hurt.

Once the Christmas spirit hits me, I will talk about Christmas. For now, I will talk about distractions.

In movie form that can come in many ways, but I thought I would talk about Sister Act 2. Yes, there was a Sister Act, the original, but the sequel finds Sister Mary Clarence teaching a study period of disaffected kids with a real talent for singing.

With the help of the nuns, she guides them to compete in a singing competition. Of course there are obstacles, but the movie really showcases that just because a story is small does not mean it's unimportant.

Also, Lauryn Hill makes me happy.

Full

My to do list for Christmas is threatening to overwhelm me and I admit to putting up a feeble fight. Since I needed the sunny distraction, NPR had a wonderful story about human kindness that provided a brief pause to an otherwise chaotic spirit.

Linked from Cup of Jo

Wrimo

December 1st, for a lot of people, means the start of Christmas or the closing of another year. For me, December 1st means the end of Nanowrimo, National Novel Writing Month. The concept is to write a 50,000 word story beginning November 1st and ending November 30th. I participated several years ago and signed up again this year.

Unfortunately, I didn't make it past the second page. Oh, well. The purpose of Nanowrimo is really getting you to learn to write every day, and I think this blog has helped me do that. Plus, I've learned not to beat myself up so much if I fall short on certain goals as long as I get something out of it.

I hope to keep this mantra as I head into the Christmas season. My focus will be enjoying time with friends and family and not get too mired with finding the perfect gifts for everyone on my list. It helps that we're continuing the tradition of homemade gifts this year. I just need to put everything together!

Found Love

One of these years, I will actually accomplish my never-before-accomplished New Year's resolution to learn how to read music and play the piano. Every time I hear a great piano arrangement, this desire resurfaces. Until that day ever comes, here's a great video of a song that has been stuck in my head for the past few months:

Still So Close

I just finished Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I have a soft spot for grieving stories. Sometimes I am like nine year old Oskar Schell where I give myself a bruise even when I know I shouldn't, maybe because I shouldn't. These aren't real bruises of course, just...whatever they are.

Oskar's dad passed away two years before the story begins. One of the greatest tragedies of death is the selfish realization that there is one less person in this world to love you. I confess, it's gotten me a little down. But since I am adamant in keeping with the general theme of this blog, I will highlight one of my favorite scenes of the book.

It starts:

“Once upon a time New York had a sixth borough.”

It ends:

“The children of New York lay on their backs, body to body, filling every inch of the park, as if it had been designed for them and that moment. The fireworks sprinkled down, dissolving in the air just before they reached the ground, and the children were pulled one millimeter and one second at a time, into Manhattan and adulthood. By the time the park found its current resting place, every single one of the children had fallen asleep, and the park was a mosaic of their dreams. Some hollered out, some smiled unconsciously, some were perfectly still.”

That's not true. It really ends with Oskar questioning the authenticity of the story and a shrug of his shoulders from Dad. It's nice to be reminded to hold onto moments of faith, not because what you believe in is logical or supported by empirical evidence. Sometimes the wonder is enough of a reason.

A Girl and Her Dog

Thanksgiving has come and gone and with it the stiffness in my legs from the 5k I ran that day. The frenzy of shopping passed me over again this year as I did my 2nd annual watching-Twilight-with-family-instead. Since I have a tendency to post about movies on Mondays, I decided to avoid recapping Twilight and instead write about another movie that was also filmed on the Pacific Northwest, this one shot in Oregon.

Wendy and Lucy is about a girl and her dog driving to Alaska to find work when her car breaks down in Oregon. Kelly Reichardt, the director, showcases this little story with such intimacy. The isolation that Wendy feels (played by a brunette Michelle Williams), the comfort that Lucy gives Wendy as she struggles just to survive moment by moment. She literally has no one but this dog to care for her and you can feel those tenuous moments where Wendy has to calm herself against the fear of slipping away.

I fully intend to watch Meek's Cutoff, the second installment of the Michelle Williams/Kelly Reichardt team-up.

Turkey Day

Tomorrow I will be running in the Utah Human Race 5k where all the proceeds go to the Utah Food Bank. I will be eating too much food at three different Thanksgivings. And I will be spending all of that time with my family. I am so blessed.

The Carlton

I'm grateful that though I consider myself pretty serious, I love to dance and find different outlets to express this. I can not actually dance well, but I love it. The Carlton is a perfect example of the dancing that I do, totally unselfconscious glee, mixed with random people off to the side wishing I would stop.

Also, there's this:

Gene

I was at the dentist today waiting for the bi-annual scolding from my dental hygienist which never came. My internal monologue went like this:

Me: Okay, lady. I floss every day with a forward and backward motion like you taught me a year ago and yes, I occasionally forget to gargle with mouthwash, but you see, my mom has terrible teeth. My dad had terrible teeth. I'm pretty sure both maternal and paternal grandparents have or had terrible teeth. This should not be a reflection on my personal habits, but on my ancestors!

Dental Hygienist: So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?

Me: Um...this is a trick, right?

But, no. There was no trick, no scolding. Instead, I was left to ponder on the things my parents and grandparents gave me with their DNA, penchant for cavities aside, I have a lot to be grateful for.

My dad gave me my singing voice. I don't always appreciate it and I definitely don't nurture it in the way he did, but it's still mine. It's still a connection I have with him, even if I can't bring it up at will.

Both sets of grandparents gave me my culture, my heritage. My dad is to thank for my appreciation for it. Being both Asian and Polynesian means traditions and family and pride.

Of my siblings, I am most like my mom so it's difficult to pinpoint just one thing she gave me. I guess I am grateful that I am strong. Not impenetrable, like both of us wish we were, but able to find solutions for most of our challenges and to be of help to others when needed.

Thanksgiving is nearly here and I'm glad I get to spend time with my silly and sweet family.

SLC Library

I am grateful for the Salt Lake County Library System. There was a period of time when I was a pretty voracious book buyer. I loved walking into the local Barnes & Noble or King's English bookstore, wandering through the stacks of shelves and finding a special book to add to my collection. After awhile I soon realized that actual reading wasn't keeping pace with actual buying and I decided to take a break. It also seemed like purchasing books made me less likely to read it once I came home.

In fact, one of my new year's resolutions is to read one unfinished book from my collection and though I have re-read several books of my own, this particular resolution remains unchecked. I have a lot of false starts with books and an annoying Proust narcolepsy.

The library swooped in and saved my pocketbook, but made accessible a lot of books that would have otherwise stayed on my shelf. The three week policy is a nice nudge to finish and if I need a gentler hand, I can usually renew and give myself an extension.

Even on new titles, the selection is pretty vast and the atmosphere soothing. My local library has changed a few times with my residency but I've been able to stay within the borders of the library system. This is also helpful with unfamiliar book club selections or third party book recommendations.

The best thing that the library has done for me is made me appreciate the books I now own and choose to own in the future. My to-buy list is much shorter, but more selective. One day I will actually read all of the books I own and add new ones that will have already become favorites. Win, win!

The Final Countdown

It's exactly one week until Thanksgiving! I am a terrible cook, but I am a wonderful eater. And let's be honest, this is the holiday for eaters. In my experience this is also a holiday for post-meal napping, general relaxing, and familial trash talking. It's great!

I decided in honor of my favorite holiday, I will be posting one thing I am grateful for each day until Thanksgiving.

To kick off the first day, I am grateful for my Ralph Lauren sunglasses. I have had these sunglasses for about eight years. They are basic black with a basic frame. They replaced a pair of $12 brown sunglasses that had "Disneyland" on the side.

What is so great about these sunglasses is that they really help me out. My face does this thing where it looks completely normal head on but once you see me in profile you get an idea of the problem. The bridge of my nose is almost non existent and to make up for the absence the base kind of balloons out. It means most sunglasses just slip down to my cheeks. But these sunglasses stay perfectly on my face.

They also adore me as much as I adore them. I have lost them in shopping malls, friend's houses, family's houses, public restrooms, a Warped Tour mosh pit (two different years) and with a little effort they always return to me unscathed. I'm sure this says more about me than them, but I'm always so relieved to see them safely home.

For a girl that is a pretty ardent defender of her poor terrible near-sighted eyes, having a great pair of sunglasses is a treasure.

Unsexy Thanksgiving

Last night's New Girl was delightful. I will not recap as Vulture already posted a pretty comprehensive review.

My other favorite Thanksgiving episodes have been:

"Blair Waldorf Must Pie" (Gossip Girl)
"Slapsgiving" (How I Met Your Mother)
"A Thanksgiving Tale" (Everwood)
"Thanksgiving" (Felicity)

This post is really making me hungry for pie.

Shrug and Laugh

A friend of mine sent me links to Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster.

emotionalliteracyeducation.com

gutenberg.org

I was instantly charmed by Jerusha Abbott, an orphan plucked from her duties in an asylum into a fully funded college experience by a mysterious benefactor. The following excerpts are from letters she writes to him, having only seen his retreating back. She refers to him as Daddy Long Legs.

“It's the kind of character that I am going to develop. I am going to pretend that all life is just a game which I must play as skilfully [sic] and fairly as I can. If I lose, I am going to shrug my shoulders and laugh--also if I win.”

“It isn't the big troubles in life that require character. Anybody can rise to a crisis and face a crushing tragedy with courage, but to meet the petty hazards of the day with a laugh--I really think that requires SPIRIT.”

“The feeling often comes over me that I am not at all remarkable; it is fun to plan a career, but in all probability I shan't turn out a bit different from any other ordinary person. I may end by marrying an undertaker and being an inspiration to him in his work.”

“I know lots of girls...who never know that they are happy. They are so accustomed to the feeling that their senses are deadened to it; but as for me--I am perfectly sure every moment of my life that I am happy. And I'm going to keep on being, no matter what unpleasant things turn up. I'm going to regard them (even toothaches) as interesting experiences, and be glad to know what they feel like.”

Wonderful!

Times Before

Two strangers meet on a train. They talk about silly things and serious things. They get off the train together and walk through the streets of Vienna telling each other secrets disguised as anecdotes and thoughtless conversation. When the morning comes, they leave each other promising to reunite.

Nine years later, the couple meet in Paris. Time has changed things, given them new opportunities from the time that they were college students. But they're still similar. The same people with perspective now. Experience, I guess. You can feel the passage of time in their voices, their mannerisms.

Before Sunrise and its sequel Before Sunset is a perfect illustration of the passage of time. What better way to show how time molds you in different ways, but keeps you inherently the same? Circumstances change, status, economy, residency. Regrets may even pile up or adversities bring you down. But even the reminder of who you were can help bring a realization of who you still are.

What's so great about these two movies is that it's shot in (somewhat) real time. The conversations happen at a languid pace where scenes can occur organically within the time frame.

I often wonder what being a grown up will feel like. Moving away from home, graduating college, turning 21, getting married. None of those things made me feel much different. My approach to things have sometimes changed. I suppose I'm learning. Slowly. Still, it's equally comforting and discouraging that I'll always feel things in a certain way even if my reactions are different. I guess for now I'm okay with that.

Those Good Days

Awhile back I saw an episode of Being Erica, a television show about a girl who travels back in time to try to fix her past regrets. In the episode she is granted a free pass to relive a perfect day. The day is time spent with her two siblings. They don't really do anything particularly worthwhile. Erica recognizes that the day was just a nice day where she could forget her life for long enough to remember the good people that came along with it.

My memory isn't good enough for recalling perfect days. I've had a lot of good ones, I suppose. More good days than bad. The thing about a perfect day is that recognizing one only happens after the fact. Sometimes not even remembered at all.

The things I really look back on with fondness are more moments. Fleeting breaks of relief or casual pauses amongst the calamity. Moments of kindness. Comedy and tragedy. Those times comprise a kind of slideshow in my mind. Different people are often featured. Sometimes I'm alone.

I don't wish for perfect days anymore, but perfect moments.

Newsworthy

Several years ago my old roommate was watching me watch the news and commented on the fact that my local news paled in comparison to the news from her hometown. I think the program in question commented on a domestic dispute that ended in violence. She said that even straight up murder wouldn't rate where she was from. It had to be multiple murders with a catch like, I don't know, they were dressed as mimes or something.

I did not respond with any sarcastic comebacks about how I had heard that Santa Barbara was a den of drunken thieves. I just kind of shrugged and continued to watch the program that quickly changed to topics of local thaw fests and such. But sometimes I think a lot about what she said. What should be considered newsworthy or even just worth your time?

I've fallen out of the habit of listening to This American Life hosted by Ira Glass and totally missed seeing him this summer at the U.

When This American Life was available on Watch Instantly, I immediately plowed through all of the episodes and was a little disappointed it didn't continue in the television format. The program lives online and on the radio. I have resolved to be a more diligent listener.

Ira Glass is able to tell stories with a distinct tone that catches you unawares and pulls you in. His stories focus on real Americans, rich, poor, rural and urban. He offers multiple perspectives to the story until you get a real sense of the oddity and uniqueness of who we are and what we can be as human beings.

Also, it is worth noting that Ira Glass is something akin to a male Zooey Deschanel. Not only can he do no wrong in the eyes of any truly nerdy girl, but he pulls it off with a flair of attractiveness. And I like his choice of eyewear.

Songs to Sing Along To

I'll admit to being a little hipster when it comes to music selection, but there are two situations where sonic snobbery must yield to a catchy hook and an unabashed sing along (three if you count karaoke, and for some reason I never do).

The first situation involves reminiscence. It doesn't matter the time, place or setting. If I am in a room with at least two very specific people and any song from the Backstreet Boys oeuvre comes on, I am powerless to stop myself. Ditto with "Don't Walk Away Boy" and anything from Janet Jackson circa '97 and earlier.

The second situation involves my car. I love driving alone and singing at the top of my voice. Below are my top 5 favorite songs to sing along to. Each have been heavily tested and proven to increase in effectiveness the higher the volume.

5. Selena Gomez & The Scene "Love You Like a Love Song"



I'm also not going to lie. This was the hair inspiration for my Halloween Witch's Party.

4. Nicki Minaj "Super Bass"



Um, no comment.

3. Sara Bareilles "Gonna Get Over You"



I like the idea of a jauntier tune matched up with tragic lyrics.

2. Adele "Promise This (Cheryl Cole cover)"



The cover and the original are sing along worthy, but the Adele version gets played more often in the car.

1. Patty Griffin "Heavenly Day"



I'm pretty sure I could just put in Patty Griffin on a long road trip and sing through her whole discography, but I picked this because it's the last Patty Griffin song I sang in the car.

Honorable mentions include Broadway showtunes, the music from The Slipper and the Rose and the indomitable Neko Case. And for those that noticed the list included all female singers, I think Gym Class Heroes "Stereo Hearts" is pretty catchy too (it also plays on the radio every time I go to lunch).

Of Concern

A few years back, I stumbled upon Things I've Bought that I Love, Mindy Kaling's shopping blog. Admittedly, I'm more likely to hang out on the boyfriend/husband couch during a day of shopping with my friends/family than actively participate in the multiple hours usually required to peruse. However, I did enjoy living vicariously through the purchases Mindy would describe.

She has since replaced this blog in favor of The Concerns of Mindy Kaling which coincides with her new book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns). The book came out last week and has immediately tested my resolve to wait for my sister to buy this for me for Christmas after some very obvious hinting.

At least I have the blog for comfort. Mindy Kaling is delightful and funny. She reminds me so much of my sister. Fashion savvy, Beyonce loving, tell-it-like-it-is, fun. She'll be the first person to tell you she looks like she has tuberculosis without any makeup, but it will only make you adore her just a little bit more.

I completely credit her with the leopard print ballet flats I bought a few months ago. And all this time later, I have no buyer's remorse. Baby steps, people.

To Live

I don't think it too coincidental that when I was ruminating on topics for this blog, my mind kept gravitating toward my favorite movie, To Live. The film features a family's survival in China. Their journey spans decades and endures changes in economy, politics and home life. Loved ones die and children come into the world, but the focus is always on keeping the family together and if not always together than protected.

They fight for survival, but they don't use weapons. Their status is small. And sometimes what they most wish for doesn't work out in the way they hope. I'm always so carried away in the story, basking in the pockets of sweetness, in the moments of heartbreak. Jiazhen, the wife and mother explains that her desire has always been the same. A quiet life with her family.

Thanksgiving is easily my favorite holiday. I'm glad to have moments where I can spend real quality time with my family remembering how grateful we are to have each other. I know it's still a ways a way, but the reminder is still sometimes needed.

Introduction

On Friday, Joanna Goddard (Cup of Jo) posted a link to a series of lovely black and white photos of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. (Snippet and Ink) What struck me about this post was not just the visual images of this Hollywood couple, but referring to true love as "sweet...silly [and] mundane".

Isn't that perfect? Not just for love, but the way a life could be lived. There are so many times when I would yearn for something more. Something epic and exciting to happen to me, only to be disappointed with my good but boring life.

As always my literary choices have revolved around this idea as I just finished Every Man Dies Alone about a German couple that's form of resistance is to drop anonymous postcards with caustic messages against the Nazis. They're not involved with underground operations with code names and spy gadgets. They're just decent people trying to stay that way in surroundings that would punish them for it.

In the beginning of The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, she describes her father as a quiet man who took things quietly although he felt them deeply. Experience has settled me into a more reserved version of myself. The rages of youth have tempered and I am found looking towards more sources of serenity than strife.

This has brought me to a desire to seek out sweet, silly, mundane things. Those things that will probably not change the world or bring about revolutions, but could change souring moods and at least bring me more assurances of good things yet to discover.

I will try not to assign too many conditions for this blog. We'll see how the week progresses.