Review

What was that? No, I couldn't help myself

There are a few things I thought to post for the end of 2012. Instead of going with my initial instinct of "So long, sucka" or variant, I thought I might post what I learned this year.

In 2012, I learned:

Electric tea kettles exist and are awesome (thanks, NZ cuzzies)

When a person orders fish and chips in New Zealand, there is more than one fish variety to choose from!

Learning to play the piano is pretty much as difficult and intimidating as I thought it was going to be, but practicing makes it feel less impossible.

Rolling my eyes at the NYC weatherman that says "It's so unusual for a hurricane to be heading this way when it would've normally been in Cuba right now" does no one any good.

Also, when said hurricane knocks out the hot water in one's building, a shower can be cold enough to turn one's appendages blue.

The series finale of Gossip Girl did not make me cry, but the freakin' end of Breaking Dawn: Part 2 did and for that I am a little ashamed. Not so much for the material itself, but for the song selection. We can do better.

Also, Chuck's onesie makes me happy. Always.

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Biting

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I watched Reality Bites with the husband yesterday. I forgot what a smooth operator Ethan Hawke was in this movie. Troy, man. The 90's dream. Roving intellectual, plus laissez-faire philosophy, plus tortured family life, plus lead singer in a rock band, plus, yes, being easy on the eyes. It made me want to watch Before Sunrise again.  

The movie is good on its own. The quintessential coming-of-age 90s drama, where college graduation means freedom but more than that, large scary question marks. Also, it reminded me how much I like Peter Frampton.

XOXO

Pic from NY Trip

Why write a love letter to the show when the CW provided an hour long Gossip Girl love fest? Oh, well. Since I am highly impressionable, I have to thank the show for not only introducing me to serious retail envy with 'Alexa' Mulberry bags, Alexis Bittar cuffs, and Charlotte Olympia heels, but the literary and musical name checks too.

Would a casual fan read Anna Karenina, The Beautiful and Damned, The End of the Affair, Washington Square, The Petting Zoo, Bright Lights, Big City, The House of Mirth and The Secret History? Hmm, I didn't intend for that list to be so long. #don'tjudge

Also, Lana Del Rey, Gotye, Kimbra, James Vincent McMurrow, Sia, The xx, and, though I'm loathe to admit it, One Republic.

In short, I will miss Blair Waldorf smack talk, NJBC takedowns, Chuck's onesie, S&B catfights and makeups, GG in Paris, not all but the better part of Chuck and Blair shenanigans, and what I will miss most: NY Mag's weekly reality indexes.

I would've posted a video from my NY trip where I am standing a few blocks away from the Empire Hotel and my sister is shouting "look it's Gossip Girl, your one true love" at me, but said video also includes me tripping over a pothole. Next time, I guess. Anyway, you know you love me...

Not Yet

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My husband has reassured me that I don't have whooping cough. This is a comfort as the whole-coughing-till-I-puke is getting kind of old. What's a persistent cough, when I have things to do! Two weeks until Christmas and I have no one checked off my list, four items of which are handmade knits. 19 books left to read on my "50 books read in 2013" goal. Did I mention the silly delusion I have of writing stuffs completed by the end of this month?

Also, I am hoping to be proven wrong next week that Nathaniel Archibald is not actually Gossip Girl. Yesterday's episode seems to be pointing to Dan, but oh, man. WHAT THE HECK AM I GOING TO OBSESS OVER WHEN THIS SHOW ENDS NEXT MONDAY? My real life? My above list? Frankly, I'll wait until next week to write my love letter to this silly, ridiculously awesome show, but today I'm listening to BoB "Ghost in the Machine" on repeat and dreaming of Paris.

Presents

My holiday cheer is usually minimal, but I've been looking through some great gift guides lately and am feeling pretty zen about the imminent yuletide. I am currently on the hunt for the family not-so-Secret-Santa gifts. What in the world am I going to get my aunt and cousin-in-law?

Also, the husband and I have this zany idea that our Christmas treats this year will be somewhere in the bread family. Our successes include zucchini and banana nut but I'd like to give bread I will actually eat myself. Still thinking about it.

Post Thanks

As this grainy photo of our fried turkey will attest, my Thanksgiving was pretty wonderful and my fridge is pretty happy too.

I am grateful for only a softball scolding from my dental hygienist today.

I am grateful that as angry and annoyed as I get with Gossip Girl, tonight's episode was only kind of ridiculous but had great moments. Also, not nearly as bad as the promos led me to believe.

I am grateful that my home smells like turkey soup since stock has been slowcooking all day today.

I am grateful that Raising Sand came in as a hold from the library today.

I am grateful that I got to have breakfast with my husband today, and that he barely complained that we were eating at McDonalds.

Hmm, that didn't seem so hard.  

Thanks

This was down the street from MOMA adjacent to a restaurant, tucked away from everything. Love. 

The husband and I ran the Utah Human Race as we do every year, but I was happy to encounter a bunch of friends I don't get to talk with that often. The rekindling made me happy. I have a lot of things to be thankful for this year. The best part of Thanksgiving brings together food, friends and family. I am  stuffed to the brim with ham, fried turkey, mashed potatoes, and blueberry pie but it was worth it. I've had a somewhat rocky year so it's nice to be reminded of my blessings. 

Break

I have, obviously, no handle on my emotions as I cried through the ending of Breaking Dawn Part 2 tonight. These past few days have been crummy, but I was reading Cupcakes and Cashmere's 100th Five Things yesterday and thought (not for the first time) why can't I be more like Emily?

I started the blog a year ago this month with the intention to post things/thoughts/whatever that didn't always sway towards my natural tendency of negativity and sarcasm. I think I have been moderately successful. I can try to make my future posts less sarcastic, but it's kind of like asking Taylor Lautner to keep his shirt on for an entire movie. You're looking at his face, but everyone knows what's brimming under the surface.

So in an attempt to remind (myself mostly) those small things that cheered me up this week, I will post the following 3 Things (working up to it, people):

1. The surprise treat (Hershey's with almonds) my husband brought home a couple nights ago from his grocery run. Food in sugary form almost always works for my mood, especially when it's a surprise.

2. Altering a pattern to fit a fair isle design I've been eyeing. The sweater is nowhere near finished so it's difficult to say how it will turn out, but I'm excited. 

3. My piano assignment this week is to find a song of my choice that I can begin to practice. So far, my YouTube viewings have challenged my ability to find accompanying sheet music, but it reinvigorated why I chose to take piano lessons in the first place. 

Love!

Election Day

Guy giving me my ballot card: Do you have kids?

Me: What?

Guy: Do you have kids?

Me: Do I have kids?

Guy: Do you have kids?

Me: Do I have kids?

Guy: Do you have kids?

Me: No

Guy hands me a "I voted" sticker: Oh, I thought they'd like a sticker

DUDE, DON'T MESS WITH MY MIND LIKE THAT WHILE I'M EXERCISING MY CIVIC DUTY! I VOTED FOR ROCKY ANDERSON AND HE DIDN'T WIN!! THESE TWO EVENTS ARE PROBABLY CORRELATED! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? IF MY IMAGINARY KIDS WERE OLD ENOUGH, THEY COULD GET THEIR OWN CRAPPY STICKERS, OTHERWISE THAT WOULD BE FALSE ADVERTISING! I DON'T WANT TO BE THE MOTHER OF CHILDREN WHO ARE THE EQUIVALENT OF PEOPLE WHO WEAR RAMONES AND JIMI HENDRIX TSHIRTS BUT CAN'T NAME AT LEAST THREE ALBUMS FROM EITHER ARTIST. I JUST WANT TO TAKE THE STICKER I RIGHTFULLY EARNED BY ACTUALLY VOTING AND GO TO MY PIANO LESSON. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK, MAN?! IS IT?!

Phew, sorry to go all Kanye on everyone. Please disregard anything caps locked. Those words were said out of anger. I'm going to eat some ice cream now.

New York, I love you...

But you're...well...I guess you can't be blamed for Hurricane Sandy. The storm blew right through my vacation, and instead of focusing on the bad, I will highlight the good things about my first New York trip.

1. FOOD! There were so many foody items on my wishlist that were checked off: Shake Shack, Levain bakery, four different pizza places, Halal cart, Gray's Papaya, Pies and Thighs fried chicken and fried apple pie.

2. Purl Soho. Though the store is modest in size, I spent about an hour there and was seriously considering taking up residence if not for the threats from my traveling companions.

3. The pace. It was weird at first to be in a place so fluid, movement and noise constantly around. The thrill of what might be around the corner. The anticipation was exciting. Also, I walk faster than the average person and I actually felt normal traipsing through the streets at my usual pace.

4. Buskers. In SF, panhandlers entertain you with silly songs about a person's attire/facial hair or by being covered head to toe in silver or gold. The ones in New York play Chopin and distribute their own cds. In Washington Square Park, a man played the Ghostbusters theme on his sax.

5. Being a tourist. I'll admit, it was exciting to go to the places I've only seen in movies/television or read about in books. This is the home to so many fictional and real life people I've never actually met that I felt a bit of the love they have for this place as I walked through it.

Walking through the various neighborhoods, there's a kind of diorama feel as you peek into other people's adventures. Not just on the street, one night we passed by Lincoln Center and saw into one of the dance studios where a whole group of people were freestyling. It felt simultaneously public and special.

ETA: I erroneously stated that the busker was playing the violin. It was clearly the sax.

How Did That Happen?

I hate my laugh. I used to have a kind of 'in front of company' laugh and a real laugh (something I imagine I developed from my mother, whose 'company' laugh is perfectly artificial). Just in the past couple of months, I have noticed my real laugh doesn't sound like anything I recognize. It bursts from the back of my throat with a volume that alarms all in proximity. I wonder if I need to temper hilarious situations until I get this under control.

I have been doing my best at this aim by filling my schedule with to do lists a person can't possibly accomplish in the frame of three weeks and second guessing my ability to plan a relaxing vacation. It doesn't help that I just finished Frankenstein tonight. Who knew it wouldn't be the heartwarming feel-good I was led to believe from Young Frankenstein. I feel like their should have been a warning of some kind.

Pond Swan Song

Thoughts and spoilers on last Saturday's Doctor Who and Pond farewell after the jump...

Not Forever

 

When Taylor Swift's "We Are Never Getting Back Together" is in heavy rotation inside one's brain, watching Celeste and Jesse Forever and Sleepwalk With Me back-to-back is probably the worst idea, like ever. This is not to say I didn't like either movie, quite the contrary in fact. What it did say was a lot of self reflection on the fragility of relationships. Marriage is the family you choose. It doesn't guarantee happy endings. It doesn't fix broken people. And sometimes, even when there's still love there, it ends.

Matt and Abby have been together for eight years. The eventuality of marriage and a family freaks Matt out to the point of sleepwalking. Celeste and Jesse are newly separated. But both are having a difficult time holding on to 'best friend' when 'lover' is out of the picture.  

The one bright side to this rather gloomy post is that the fragility makes relationships precious. I don't believe in soulmates. If there's a "supposed to" in the mix, it seems a little less special. I want to try, not just because there's an eventuality to it.

As a side note, I reserve the right to change any and all opinion if Degeneres and De Rossi break up. If such a time exists, I will no longer believe in love. 

Upcoming

I seem to be in the middle of things lately. The last few weeks were crammed so much with work that I literally can't remember what I did when I got home each night besides sleeping and eating (presumably). Also, though I'm not sure how this pertains to anything, my hair is getting so long it's starting to get stuck on things. The last time this has happened I'm pretty sure I still had all of my baby teeth.

I might actually dress up for Halloween this year, I just need to convince the spouse of my zombie Bonnie and Clyde idea. He is 2% on board. I know this because he has paused for at least that long before saying 'no'. My sis is going for zombie Minnie Mouse. I'm pretty excited.

I watched Revolution yesterday. The idea of a world suddenly plunged into a blackout, no technology, no electricity makes me hopeful for the rest of the season. Plus Giancarlo Esposito is reason enough to give it a second watch. And Elizabeth Mitchell (I think?). I had to reassure the husband that Billy Burke was not Richard Dean Anderson, but he did a good job and the man is pretty convincing with a sword and dagger.

The weakest part of the episode was the younger cast. Charlie is supposed to be a Katniss-very-lite. I can only describe her on a Top-Model-appearing-on-Veronica-Mars scale with Naima being the very worst and Kim being the very best as a middlish Furonda. Home girl has little personality, but at least I never felt she suffered from a head injury. Poor, Naima.

Growing Pains

Birthdays have never been especially great for me. I remember one sucky 10th birthday decked out in a garish but beloved pink dress with blue flowers and jacket to match only to have it rain so hard they cancelled recess! Then there was last year's birthday where I was so sick I went to bed around eight and had to be reassured I wasn't dying. I won't even get into what I'll call the "roller skate incident" of 1996. Did I also mention that when I turned sixteen, my mom actually forgot my birthday? The whole time I refused to let her know in case Jake Ryan showed up with a birthday cake.

Um, yeah. No Jake Ryan, but I did score a new pair of shoes, expensive and fueled by guilt. I guess with this impressive history of awful birthdays, yesterday was pretty great. I went to the state fair with the husband and my sisters. Ate fried oreos and roasted corn on the cob and convinced said party not to ride the sketchy looking ferris wheel. My fridge contains more birthday sweets than actual food and I got to re-watch the Doctor Who Christmas Carol tonight from one of my birthday winnings. Curious to see what next year will bring.

Suspension

My internal lever has been a bit sticky lately so when I've tried to dispatch said lever, I haven't been getting a clear reading. This lever of course dispenses my suspension of disbelief. Dang its faultiness when I get the last episodes this year of Breaking Bad and the premiere of Doctor Who. Thoughts (and spoilers) after the jump.

Doctor

Doctor Who will be premiering its new season this weekend. It couldn't come at a better time since I have plowed through season 5 and 6 of Gilmore Girls and will not emotionally invest in season 7. True, I have Breaking Bad but the mid season finale is next week and then I'll have to wait until next year for its untimely demise. Waiting is hard. Waiting on television fairies is excruciating. Okay, it's not so bad when there are distractions. Distractions in the form of a real life, hobbies I've been neglecting, learning French, and my NY trip. Plus, if I don't want to be replicate the anxiety of last year, I should start knitting stuffs now for Christmas. Lots to do, and yet the couch looks so comfortable and all but the last season of Eureka is still on Netflix Watch Instantly.

Also, NPR's First Listen's are so great! Stars, Cat Power, Animal Collective, Divine Fits, Deerhoof. I've listened to only half of the selections so far, but I feel less neglectful.

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Emma

Emma Stone has been orbiting my radar lately, the most recent item came from an awesome article from Interview Magazine where she was interviewed by Cameron Crowe. She talks about her impressive gut that guides her, that she absolutely trusts. And then she talks about her instincts, which aren't always so reliable. 

I always wish for a distinct voice inside or outside my head that will tell me where I need to go, that I can trust will never lead me astray. I know that I have a something. I know that I haven't lost my way, even when I'm not entirely sure where I'm going or how to get there. That should be enough. For now.

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Trying

July was especially difficult for me this year and the gloominess bled into August. I'm hoping September will find me more cheerful, more willing to be brave. I keep talking to myself in circles and wonder why my improvements are so marginal. I have to keep reminding myself of all the things I've done. Even the small things. I'm not sure if it's sad that when I was compiling a 'Happy Mix' last week, I couldn't even fill a whole hour. I don't want to be like Sally Sparrow where she's only happy when she's sad. I want to be happy all on its own.

Though the husband rolled his eyes at my mix, it consisted of the following:

"Titanium" David Guetta ft. Sia
"I Believe" Yolanda Adams
"I See Your True Colors" Jill Scott
"New Soul" Yael Naim
"Tiny Dancer" Elton John
"Caroline" Brandi Carlile
"Heavenly Day" Patty Griffin
"(You're So Square) Baby, I Don't Care" Buddy Holly cover by Cee Lo Green
"Home" Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
"Rocket Man" Elton John
"Flowers in the Window" Travis

I'm now convinced that if I had taken more time, I probably would've been able to fill the hour. For example, only one Jill Scott song and no Lauryn Hill? My criteria was pretty strict, though. No lyrics or instrumental that could be construed as blue (you explain to me the lyrics of 'Rocket Man'). The mix has helped. Miyazaki, too.

Eureka

 I couldn't quite make it to tomorrow when Hulu airs the series finale of Eureka. I caved and bought the episode over the weekend. I know, I know. My impulses are often ill timed and annoying. The show ended simply and sweetly. I left feeling both happy and sad, my favorite mix. Plus, Jo's hair has never looked better. When the husband asked how excited I was about the Mars rover, I said, "yeah, I've been marathoning Eureka". Then when he proceeded to explain the intricacies of the landing and the youtube videos he's been watching, I had to respond with a "yeah, I've been marathoning Eureka." I'm going to miss you, show.

Gossip Girl is going to be ending this season too and I wonder if I will have the fortitude to wait until the end and watch it in one long marathon. When my resolve grows weak, I can remind myself that I would've saved me some grief if I had done that with this past season. Hopefully, Blair's hair will be much happier this season. And hopefully, someone will straight up murder Dan's hair. I don't really want talk too much about the hideousness of it in case mere mentioning causes it to appear...wait...nope, false alarm.

Now that I've survived another Pioneer Day, I hope to be a little more focused, a little less all over. I have ambitious plans for the month of August. We'll see where I go...

Recovery

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My mother in law texted me on Tuesday to see if I was okay and if there was anything she could do for me. It helped just knowing that someone was thinking about me. Oskar refers to it as "the worst day" in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. As I've grown older, it seems like the simpler the phrase the more apt it becomes. Fifteen years ago, I was one person and then one morning I was someone else. Someone sadder. Someone without my dad.

Today I am not so sad. I'm not in mourning anymore, even though I still feel grief. I revisit that time and remember what it was like, grateful to not have to relive it. Grateful to have had him at all.

Magnets!

I was so glad to hear that Breaking Bad received 13 Grammy nominations this morning and even happier to have a new episode on Sunday. Kyle Hilton was commissioned to do these awesome paper dolls of the cast last year and it is really hard to pick a favorite (here are some more). 

A Follow Up Thought

No, my neighbor is not Marion Cotillard

When I listed all the attributes I most admired (linguist, great cook, active life) in my last post, the familiarity made me think this described someone I actually know. Until I realized, this IS someone I actually know. This person exists! (sort of, I think she only speaks four languages) 


This person is my neighbor. She is wonderful. She is intelligent and kind and thoughtful. I had only known her a couple of months when she got home from Germany last year and she totally brought me German chocolates for my birthday. She never makes me feel worthless in my comparatively smaller list of accomplishments and she will impart her own stories of struggle that never come off like complaining.


The catch of course is that not only will she never admit to setting the standard for personal perfection, but I realize it's different from an onlooker's point of view. Finding my way and accomplishing things that I most want often feels illusive. But I know it doesn't have to be. I'm sure I'll probably never attain Gwyneth Paltrow level, but I can be happy. I can be excited about my life. I can set aside regrets that come from sacrificing one thing for another. I can have enough.

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A Thought

Two of the blogs I most frequent reference the Atlantic article titled "Why Women Can't Have It All" (Get Rich Slowly and Cup of Jo). I've thought about this article a lot in the past couple of weeks. I don't have children or aging parents. It's pretty much just me and the spouse. I'm also a comfortable eight-to-fiver in a small department with over seven years with the company under my belt and...I was about to make a declarative statement about my future, but I know how jinxes work.

Still, I think babies may be in my future and what then? Will these hobbies I've been collecting lead me anywhere? How will I make it work if I decide to go back to school? What if I die before I get to do all of the things I want to do?

These dizzying questions sound a lot like when I was deciding whether I should I marry my husband. The advice I heeded was my mom's. She said, "So what? So what if things don't work exactly how you thought they would? The surprises might make you a better you." She also added, "If the only reason why you're not doing something is because you're afraid, you're just being dumb."

I've been grumpy that the baby sweater I'm currently knitting is taking up all my time this week, which is causing me anxiety with the whole "if I think this is time consuming" line of thinking. Where is this well rounded person that speaks six languages, plays multiple instruments, cooks elaborate meals and exercises five times a week? Does this person exist? Surely there are women in my neighborhood that fit this description. I think.

Source: marthastewart.com via Anna on Pinterest

Shhh

Source: flickr.com via Lauren on Pinterest

This past couple of weeks have been exhausting. I'm treading very lightly this month, trying to keep it together, trying to remember to smile, to remember that I'm okay. If anyone asks, that's what I'm sticking with. I'm okay. Happy, even. I just want this month to be over. 

Happy 4th!

Retrospective

I'm not embarrassed to admit that when I while away my time online, I indulge in fanvids. These videos are very much like fanfiction. Most of the them are really bad, most of the time you will be embarrassed if someone catches you in the act and most of the ones that are worthwhile post infrequently once the show/movie passes its prime.

The ones I like best tend to make me want to re-watch the show/movie including the one I watched tonight about 50/50. This movie was a great, quiet film. I described it to friends as "what Funny People was trying to be". Finding humor in the trials of life that seem so scary. What else is there to do but laugh? Because crying will come soon. Crying is just under the surface. But for now, laughter feels so much better than crying.

Don't Forget Me

Pretty sure it's half operator error and half actual camera, but the pictures for last week's Neko Case concert came out less than stellar (surely, this is not a trend, right?).

The first time I saw Neko Case in concert (performing solo) was at the Twilight Concert Series. My sister and I bemoaned the fact that Kelly Hogan was not singing back up vocals and soon after Neko herself noted the much missed absence (Kelly released an album earlier this month called "I Like to Keep Myself in Pain"). Luckily, Kurt from The New Pornographers (and, we were told, all of the male members of the band) could sing a woman's soprano. Such nuggets of insight were littered throughout the show and I remembered that no one does between song banter like Ms. Neko Case.

She sang mostly from Middle Cyclone and Fox Confessor but we were able to hear several songs from her as yet to be released album and one acapella number that was so new the band didn't even know it. I was hoping for the Sparks cover from Middle Cyclone "Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth", but was at least happy she sang the Harry Nilsson cover "Don't Forget Me" and my personal favorite, "Hold On, Hold On". Overall this concert felt like a kickoff to summer and since it is actually the first day of summer, I thought this show needed to be posted.  

So Bad

 Breaking Bad's new and final season airs next month and I can't wait!

(pic by Stanley Chow via mymodernmet.com)

Letters

I was doing some home organization and found letters I wrote to myself throughout the years. I haven't picked up the practice since my last letter in 2006, but it was still kind of amusing to read:

The 1st letter was not dated, but written my sophomore year in high school as an assignment in one of my classes. The envelope read: To Riana Not to be Opened Until September 12, 2002

Dear Riana,
Pretty soon you'll be turning 16, and hopefully you'll graduate from high school. I hope that you did well on your A.C.T's and got accepted to tons of colleges. Well, since you're a senior now I hope your classes are really easy. And if you have a steady boyfriend DON'T GET MARRIED!! (this is actually double underlined)
In the future you can have a family and all that, but not now! I hope you're happy.
See ya

The 2nd letter is dated September 12, 2002 and inscribed "Not to be opened until September 12, 2005"

Dear Riana,
Today is your 18th birthday. It is the morning right now so I can't tell you if you enjoyed yourself or not today...The year is beginning but I have a feeling that it will seem to go by in a flash...Even if I don't really have a list like in A Walk to Remember, I wanna travel the world, learn a different language, see a Broadway musical in New York City, take up photography, learn how to fence...My list is a little bit longer than this but I have to start getting ready for school. Hope all is well in 3 years.

The 3rd letter is dated September 12, 2005 and "Not be opened until September 12, 2008"

Dear Riana,
I have always said that on my 24th birthday I would have found somebody to marry. Now I wonder if that assertion may have proved a little hasty. I can only really hope for a life full of meaning and purpose. If not to anyone else than to just me. Everything always seems so silly and unimportant when said out  loud. I feel this letter will be no different. Off the top of my head I can scarcely impart any goals with which to accomplish in the next three years that won't come off sounding naive or fruitless. I aspire only to that which is good, and whatever that implies. I may lead an imperfect life but I am content in my imperfect happiness. 

My last letter is dated 9/24/06 with no "To be opened" date (I actually didn't open this letter until today)

Dear Riana,
My journal entries are supposed to showcase the purpose for writing this letter. Whether it is just boredom or just a desire to punctuate who I am @ this moment. I felt it necessary to go ahead. I like the idea of little snapshots of time recorded before they're lost and forgotten no matter how small they seem to be.
My twenty-second birthday was last Tuesday. I spent it sitting on an airplane and fretting about whether or not I would find my flight or the right gate. This was my first business trip...kind of a letdown.
My life in general seems to be a lot different than I imagined. I always say that I don't know what I thought it would be but I know that's not really true. To be completely honest, I thought my life would be a lot shinier. I thought I would have a lot more things figured out. Love, career, money. I thought I would be less alone. I thought I would have traveled a lot more. I thought it would be different. I would be taller...
When I was in high school I had such set goals. Now that those goals have been accomplished I find myself w/out them. Goals. I still feel too young and unsettled to want to own a house, too unprepared to want a family of my own.
I'm a lot happier than this letter suggests. Confusion doesn't always mean unhappiness. The uncertainty would have been excruciating a few years ago but I feel I'm doing okay. 

Something Like Home

The husband and I drove up the canyon to take advantage of Whopper Wednesday. As I looked out the window into the valley below I felt possibility rush through me. I felt happy. For no real reason besides being exactly where I wanted to be with the exact person. Why does joy seem to only last for mere moments? How can I hold on to this feeling?

Dissent

Last week, I finally got around to watching Drive even though my sister warned me that she didn't like the movie AT ALL. The movie ended and I realized that not only did I disagree, but I was wholeheartedly behind the film. The strangeness of this occurrence didn't set in until yesterday when we were discussing Prometheus. She was enamored with the film and her love of Noomi Rapace was cemented. I enjoyed the grandeur of the beginning, but this waned when the movie got a little convoluted for my taste. Also, I couldn't share in the ardor for Dr. Elizabeth Shaw.

My sister and I are avid film watchers. It is not an exaggeration to say that we have probably watched thousands of movies together and not once has one sister disliked a movie while the other liked it or vice versa. I'm trying not to assign too much weight into this disconnect, but it makes me feel a little sad.

Luckily, we had a really wonderful discussion about our enjoyment (and moderate disappointment) for Snow White and the Huntsman. I suppose I should welcome the novelty of a cinematic debate. This is also making me realize that I could probably review more movies. Hmm.

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Plinking

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After a month of piano lessons, I am excited to say that I can play some songs and have them (mostly) sound like the song. Of course these are in the difficulty of  "A Shave and a Haircut" but I feel like I'm improving every day. I'm happy that my enthusiasm has sustained me so far. Hooray!

Où allez-vous?

There are many things I envy about my past self. So often I wonder if my memories betray the true reality of my youth. Many times, people will refer to bravery as challenging the fear, realizing that its present and accomplishing the task in spite of it. Are there merits to accomplishments if one is unafraid? Ofcourse. But will it mean more? Maybe.

I wanted to graduate from college quickly. I wanted to get my MBA. I wanted to become a financial planner. I wanted to write a novel.

I was successful at half of those things.

Today, I want to be a thoughtful person. I want to speak French when my family and I go to Europe in a year or two. I want to play Sia's "I'm in Here" on the piano and have it sound like Sia's "I'm in Here" on the piano. I want to write a novel I can be proud of. I want to eat healthier foods and remember to apply sunscreen. I want to be present. I want to be here. Right now. Exactly where I am.

Isn't that wonderful? Isn't that better than being afraid?

Source: Uploaded by user via Dome on Pinterest

Call Me

Pretty sure this is how I spent all my down time throughout elementary school. Except instead of Robyn, we were more Selena/Mariah Carey crooners.




(via Vulture)

Curiouser

Source: kissssing.blogspot.com via Yashwina on Pinterest

When I was a child, I often thought wisdom opened locked doors into wonderful places. As I grew older, I realized this to be true, but I didn't know the openings would also lead to the entrances of more locked doors. So many in fact, sometimes I would wonder in the value of curiosity.

I haven't lost that inquisitiveness of my youth, but it has definitely slowed. I am choosing my hobbies more carefully, approaching adventures with caution. I can't seem to make up my mind whether or not this is a good thing. My husband and I will celebrate the five year anniversary of our first date next week. It seems strange and natural all at once. Where will I be for our ten year?

Civil

Last night the sis and I went to see The Civl Wars at The Depot. We even waited after the show and snagged a picture with Joy and John Paul.

Unfortunately, the picture came out red-eyed and blurry so I had to do some creative editing (limited iphoto knowledge being as it is) with the husband's mac. We left the show exhilarated and happy. My favorite thing about watching The Civil Wars is the sheer pleasure they radiate. They have such a mastery of their voices that it's simply another instrument to which they can play.

The intro for "To Whom it May Concern" had Joy placing her hand to her belly and sharing how excited she was for the new arrival in her life and how special it is to sing that song as the date approaches. She said different people have various interpretations of that song and I thought about what was mine.

Why are you so far from me?
In my arms is where you are to be
How long will you make me wait?
I don't know how much more I can take
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
Slowly counting down the days
Till I finally know your name
The way your hand feels round my waist
The way you laugh, the way your kisses taste
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
How I do
I've missed you but I haven't met you
Oh how I miss you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
Oh how I want to
Dear whoever you might be
I'm still waiting patiently

I think of happiness. How that's the only thing you can think about when you're sad. Waiting for its arrival. Wondering what it will look like. How changed your life will be. I dunno. Maybe it's about a cute boy.

Food Envy

I was sulking over a bowl of canned soup and a bag of Cheetos tonight, a kind of culinary navel gazing wherein I felt put upon for the lot I was in. Didn't I just successfully make tea scones over the weekend? Wasn't it true that not even two months ago, I made a not only edible, but delicious pear gruyere pie? Too true, I think. Except with everything I make that requires the use of cooking equipment and more than three ingredients, I have familial supervision, if not wholehearted assistance at all times.

Maybe that's the problem. Maybe one day I will cook a meal by myself with no watchful eye making sure I don't have a disaster. One day is not today, but maybe in the near future. I finished The Year of Magical Thinking tonight and marvel that John Gregory Dunne had ever wondered if his life was a waste. His measure being whether or not they were able to do the things they actually wanted. I share similar feelings. Is my life how I wished it would be? Do I get to do the things I want more than just the things I should? Not always. But quite often. Does this mean I have a happy life? Probably.

Magic

I'm hoping to finish The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion tomorrow. I'm enjoying it immensely while also carrying a persistent feeling that I am going to die. Luckily, I am not known for an accurate intuition. When describing the sudden illness that falls her daughter she says:

"...I had always at some level apprehended, because I was born fearful, that some events in life would remain beyond my ability to control or manage them. Some events would just happen. This was one of those events. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."

She also quotes a line from a poem by  Manley Hopkins, "I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day."

Simple and perfect. I am often captured by tragedy, letting it pull me in and whisper its secrets. I try to remember every feeling, every thought, but pain tends to avoid traveling by word. This attraction made me a morose little kid, but it frees me as an adult. I can articulate my feelings a lot better. I can view challenges with better perspective now. Distance, even. I am not altogether cured, but I find I don't really want to be.

Cool

Upfront

The TV schedule for this upcoming season has been announced over these past few days and I can't help but think how the show I was most excited to see last year was a supreme disappointment. I won't say what it was, but I'm trying to reign in my excitement until the shows actually air in the fall.

Who am I kidding? Mindy Kaling had me at "I'm Sandy Bullock!"

New

Today marks my very first piano lesson and all I hope is that it goes better than my flute and violin lessons which preceded it. The key difference is that I actually want to practice and I am footing the entire bill for this musical education and not my mother so it might be more appreciated. Sorry, mom.

Although it's now halfway through the year, I still carry this silly hope that in 2012 I will be wiser. I want to try to be less afraid, more willing to find new adventures. I say silly only because I have a tendency to choose the path that keeps my feet firmly planted to the ground rather than catching a friendly breeze to see where it might take me. I suppose, I want to surprise myself. For the good.

Run

This past Saturday, I ran the Susan G Komen 5K race with my mom. My joints are still complaining from this decision but I'm going to file it under "Mother's day gift" and next time try to give my legs more of a heads up. I don't think a lot about how age will effect me, but I wonder if that shouldn't change.

My work launched a health and wellness campaign today and I think I'll use it as an excuse to focus on eating better, exercising and managing my stress. I know I'll probably never reach the carefree yogi I see among my peers in yoga class, gallivanting through Costa Rica to go bike riding and eating vegan, but I can improve. I can at least try.

Marvel

I adored watching Avengers and the first episode of Sherlock. I could have cheated and watched the series in New Zealand, but infrequent wifi kept me honest. 

As I was on my girl power high (after coming on board the Black Widow/Irene Adler love train), I read an article from Entertainment Weekly asking if the premiere of Sherlock wasn't a bit sexist. Suddenly I wondered if my feminist spidey senses carried one fatal flaw. Let's call it, the Whedon syndrome. 

Geeking out to the marvelous prowess, the enumerable cleverness of Stephen Moffat and Joss Whedon himself could occasionally cloud gender biases, but then I don't think so. It's kind of like my views on colorblindness. A person's gender and race DOES make them different, but the differences add to our character not detract. 

What makes Black Widow and Irene Adler interesting to me is that they are clever. They're resourceful. They actively participate in the game without losing who they are as women. Moffat and Whedon portray both with such great skill. I'm excited to see more from both. 

 

Avenge

A couple nights ago, I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer's "Once More with Feeling" as my husband puts it "to cheer you up from failing at knitting". Okay, he said it nicer than that, but that's the way it sounded. And of course, the jokers have to tempt me with "Tabula Rasa" right after...In other words, I am more than ready to get my Avengers on tomorrow!

Revelations

I have noticed many things about myself during my NZ trip these past two weeks:

• I can go over a week without watching new episodes of Gossip Girl, but the minute you put me in front of a wifi-enabled computer, I lose all restraint. Also, the same seems to occur with Twitter and Pinterest. Catch up TV watching this weekend with less demanding shows like Eureka was actually pretty fun (also, Joinks! to last week's episode). 

• These work-free weeks had a funny effect on me. The first week was so filled with activity that I often found the prospect of home the real vacation. The second week brought the serenity I was after. I did everything I set out to do and now that I'm home, I'm happy to be back. 

• New Zealand motion sickness pills have no effect on me. Xanax and prayer seem to do the job. 

• Being with family and trading stories made me really nostalgic, just as I thought it would. What I didn't anticipate was how it would provoke so much self-reflection. So many times, I asked myself, am I where I want to be? Am I doing what I want to be doing? Am I the person that I was supposed to be? The answers haven't been too forthcoming, but, surprisingly, the hesitation doesn't make me nervous. 

• My goals are not yet all achieved. I can be happier, accumulate more wealth, become more successful. I can also let the excitement build, revel in hope not the fear of the unknown. Treasure the presents that I have now. 

Pretty cool, huh?

My Friday the 13th

I watched a series of videos from Jason Silva, a guy with a lot of thoughts bursting forth, spilling out. He reminds me of a kid I knew in college that was just so excited by life that he couldn't wait to share any particular thought that came into it. An almost, non-New York Woody Allen with lots of things to say, but with less complaining.



I have always been a ready listener of free flowing ideas. Especially when there's sincerity and not boisterous affectation behind it. More so when there's excitement. Plus he relays the plot points of Before Sunset in his Love video. Can't hate the whole "My Dinner with Andre" schtick when we bring into one of my favorite movies.

Tunes

I'm not sure where the magical age range occurs when it comes to being the cool, music kid. I floated through 90's R&B, mainstream rock, hip hop, indie darlings and alt-country and whatever played on KRCL, I Guess I'm Floating and Alexandra Patsavas's radar.

Although I can't be sure, I've lost myself somewhere and been catching myself saying things out loud what can only be described as "old people mutterings". Things like, "So that's what Justin Beiber sounds like!" and "Wait, UK One Direction is a boy band and not just one kid singing?" and, and, well, I'm blaming senility, but those are the two worst offenders.

I guess I should be glad that my obvious lameness comes out mostly with mainstream music, but what happens when certain favorite Arizona-bred bands form different, less fun bands and I have no idea? What if James Mercer kicks out the only girl in his band right when I'm really getting the feel for her? What if I missed The Mynabirds play at Kilby Court last month? Oh, wait I DID do that!

I'm going to be catching The Civil Wars in May and make a little more of an effort here.

Chuck Bass

Woah, kids. Last night's Gossip Girl was awesome. I can't tell you any plot points because I was blinded in the first few minutes with Chuck Bass's awesome tracksuit. Awesome is an understatement. The proper description would give a withering stare to "awesome" and tell it to GTFO. There was a mixture of laughter and shrieking. Delightful shrieking. Thank goodness for the internet.

I mean sartorially Chuck has always been aces, but the red tracksuit, man. THE RED TRACKSUIT. I am buying this for my husband so that he can just leisurely walk around in it. You know, like you do. His reaction to the pictures I showed him were less than excited, but I'll wear him down.

I seriously haven't been this amused by an article of clothing since...have I ever been this amused? Oh, gifs. How you've become my new favorite. (GIFS)

Skins

I finished watching the first season of Skins and I can't quite decide where I stand. It kind of started out like watching the Christopher Eccleston era of Doctor Who. It took me up until The Doctor Dances to really get a feel for the show and I find myself watching the finale and listening to "Wild World" and wondering if that moment is just around the corner.

Beautiful Idiots

There's a line that a character in the Doctor Who episode "The Doctor's Wife" says as she tries to think of a word. A word so sad and complicated and big. "Alive"

"Alive isn't sad," the Doctor says. And she replies, "It's sad when it's over."

Grieving is hard partly because the expectation is that it is something one eventually gets over. But the part I like best are the moments when the sorrow makes room for the joy. When reminisces still laced with pain carries happiness alongside.

My mom and I were talking at lunch and the thought struck me how the people that are gone are still very much alive. How we carry them in pockets of our memories and bring them out when we need them. I'm not speaking of the here after or the next phase. I mean the right now. Keeping them. Holding on to loved ones so that we find their presence soothing.

I know that this coming NZ trip will be difficult in many ways, but I hope that I come through it okay.

Hungry

I went to see Hunger Games over the weekend with my sisters and mom. My mom had never read the books and apart from having to whisper/explain what the Reaping was at the beginning, she was able to follow the story pretty well.

Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire. The girl whose brought into focus by her own accord when she volunteers her name in the Hunger Games in lieu of her sister's. One boy and one girl from twelve districts. Competing to the death on live television.

The movie followed the basic plot points of the book. This felt like a beginning as little attention was paid to a lot of the characters. In fact, the only person I felt had their character fleshed out was Haymitch played by Woody Harrelson. I'm hoping the other movies will provide that for Katniss, Peeta and Gale. But until then, it was a good start.

Also, I'm hopelessly fixated on The Secret Sisters' "Tomorrow Will Be Kinder" from the Hunger Games soundtrack.

Fool

Pretty sure the SECOND after I told someone that I'm generally a skeptical person, I have fallen for every single April's Fool's Day prank I have ever encountered. Having a baby? Fooled. Gotten engaged? Fooled. Favorite tv show's cancelled? Fooled. Phone hacked leaking embarrassing pictures of you and poo? Fooled. Someday my gullibility will wan enough so that I can have the presence of mind to know what day it is before accepting a story that my two favorite celebs are fighting/hooking up/pregnant/murder/suicide pact or whatever, but until then maybe I should take comfort in knowing that I'm trusting. Either way, Hunger Games reaction tomorrow!

DC

Finished David Copperfield Tuesday night after some pretty intense reading sessions. I aimed to try to be like Agnes and seek out the good in others. Perhaps that's more of a Dickens attribute. Not overlooking the faults or eccentricities of people, but allowing those things to build their character rather than pit it against them.

I failed after mere hours of this resolve. Wah, wah. I failed again the next day.

I am trying to turn these failures into more of a progression into the right direction. Maybe one day I'll hit that sweet spot where my irritation/annoyance/self-awareness won't even be triggered at all and I'll become this amiable woman whose thoughts can match her outward appearance. For now, I'll be happy discouraging my (sometimes, inconvenient) expressive face.

In any case, I'm glad I finished and am excited to take on my next novel. No more Dickens intimidation for me!

In Between

I feel like I have conquered the events of the last two weeks only to confront the challenges of the next four weeks which seem to laugh in the very face of the weeks that came before it. Laughing with impunity. I might even suggest a hearty guffaw.

Everything will happen, oh, tomorrow. But tonight, I feel an eerie calm before the storm. If I could even deign to acknowledge, I might even contend this feeling to be boredom.

The husband and I were supposed to watch the second season of Downton Abbey only to find that it is no longer available on PBS. We got as far as the first episode. So instead tonight's entertainment was a lively IM'ing to my current Comcast representative which ended irresolutely and some yummy gingersnaps. I can't muster the strength to complain.

Davy

I spent most of Monday and Tuesday night with the endeavor to finish David Copperfield tonight for a book club that is actually next Wednesday. Oops. The blog must sometimes suffer to hopeless literary pursuits. I reached page 488, so the absence in memory was not rewarded nor punished. I am definitely developing a crush on Dickens as I admit to initial reluctance on my part to even broach the famous tome.

It seems like the biggest thing I'm taking away from the story is that personal quirks sometimes matter very little on a person's character. The villains seldom twirl a convenient mustache. The handsome scholar may prove less than heroic. All the while, young David Copperfield observes and learns.

Anyway, something for me to think about when I next meet someone new.

Law and Order: Acting Reel Unit

Pretty much every time I stay in hotels, I inevitably watch at least four episodes of Law & Order. Perhaps this is more a reflection on my vacations than anything, but this video cracked me up.

My People

Mo Ryan tweeted an article in the Huffington Post asking why television, even good television, often has a blindspot when establishing real, genuine female relationships.

The article admits the Leslie Knope/Ann Perkins relationship on Parks and Rec is a good example of relationships between women that don't need to be catty or competitive. The topics of conversations are not solely male centered.

The article made me think about what other female friendships I admired on tv and if I thought there was a shortage. So I'm going to run down a list of some of my favorite shows (past and present) noting the female series regulars and their relationships with each other (I'll exclude Parks and Rec as it's already been noted, but Leslie also has a great relationship with April).

Red Balloon

The husband's good friend invited us to Memphis for St. Patrick's Day. If we weren't gearing up for our NZ trip, I would be incredibly tempted. I love the idea of spontaneous vacations, just going somewhere because it might be fun. It asks me to be more adventurous than I tend to be. How often do I just do something? No premeditation. No second or third thoughts. I wish I could say more. Perhaps I just need to dip my toe into the waters.

When we go to New Zealand, I kind of want to allow time for adventure. A few days of wandering just to see where we go.

Joan

I forget myself sometimes. A song, a story, a glimpse of something else and I'll be transported into a somewhere distinctly not here but not totally there either. Made up conversations in my head. Daydreaming. A rusty use of imagination. Joan as Police Woman is a great source to meander. I love the song, "Flash". And of course, I was obsessed with "The Magic" last year.

I know that I'm inherently the same, but I marvel at certain character traits I've picked up and those that I've set down and misplaced. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to miss talents I failed to nurture. Quirks I never appreciated. Why are certain things harder now?

Perhaps my focus should be on what I've gained now. How glad I am to have survived some periods of my life more or less whole, full use of all my appendages. Happy even. The anxiety that's plagued me this past couple of weeks is gone now and I don't mind enjoying this nice bit of calm for however long it lasts.

Shell Game

Neil Gaiman tweeted a link to Shell Game, a Kickstarter project from Molly Crabapple. Her goal is to raise $30,000 by March 27th.

From her webpage:

Shell Game is an art show about the world financial collapse, and the people who have risen up in protest against it. I'll create nine giant paintings about the different parts of the collapse and the global movement fighting back (including Goldman Sachs, Greece, and Occupy Wall Street), but filter them through my lens of burlesque, surrealism, satire, and symbolic animals. Then, I'm going to rent a storefront in New York city, rig it out like a gambling parlor, and invite the city and the Internet to check it out for a week.

Her first painting, the Great American Bubble Machine is amazing. I can't wait to see the other eight paintings.

Closeted

I spent most of this weekend watching Downton Abbey. I finished season one and the first episode of season two. I want to wait until after I finish the season to really comment on it, but I'm enjoying the show so far.

Vulture just posted a new 7 minutes in Heaven with Paul Rudd. Though the Kristen Wiig and Amy Poehler are my favorites, this one is great too.

Slowhand

I recently finished the audiobook of Eric Clapton's autobiography, Clapton read by Bill Nighy. I was reminded how candid and fair I thought the book portrayed his life. His focus was almost completely on his addictions and his music. He learned guitar by listening to a piece of music he loved, practicing the piece over and over until his copying matched the record.

I love hearing a cover redone in a creative way that still stays true to the music, but is a new interpretation. I guess that's why I've been listening to so much James Vincent McMorrow lately. He does a wonderful cover of Steve Winwood's "Higher Love" and Chris Isaak's "Wicked Games". Homeboy even covers "Whip My Hair"!

Though not a cover, I adore his song, "We Don't Eat". Definitely music to warm my heart.

Spoilers

I've a lot of things on my mind lately and been feeling a little overwhelmed. My first inclination is to bury my head in whatever sand I can find and wait it out. The husband has been re-watching Doctor Who. The wonderful, raggedy Doctor who saves the world just because he loves humans so darn much. The Doctor sees the problems, the conflicts, the insurmountable odds and he overcomes them. I wish I could gather everything into a wide net and place them on a shelf to sift through one by one when I find a spare breath. But there is no Doctor today. No one to save me from the monsters. I suppose I just need to gather up my courage and save myself. So much harder this way :)

Hulk, Smash!

Today was a much nicer day than yesterday. I have noticed that when I get really angry, like I have these past two days, my anger comes out in a burst but dissipates fairly quickly. I'm pretty much a two year old kid. It's almost always because I'm tired or hungry or sore. Yoga kicked my butt last weekend and until today, I've been hobbling around like a wounded puppy. Funny that today's yoga made me feel better.

Two days ago, I was having a pretty strong hissy fit right before bed. My husband COMPLETELY ignored me and that made me feel angrier. Luckily, I knew better than to pick a fight, so I stewed in my raging juices for a few minutes until I realized I wasn't angry anymore. Just like that. I got into bed and fell asleep. I hope this means I've weathered the grumpy storm and will buck up for the rest of the week.

I love these ecards. So appropriate, sometimes!

Mean

I was unusually crabby when I got home from work today, but rather than get into all the (mostly boring) details, I will post what cheered me up: Taylor Swift.

I'll admit that I was slow to jump on the T.Swift bandwagon. The lyrics to that Romeo and Juliet song distracted me so much I turned the station every time it came on out of self preservation. Plus a gorgeous willowy blonde putting on glasses and a band uniform is still a gorgeous willowy blonde.

But sometime between Kanye West and now, Taylor became delightful. It's nice to remind myself not to take myself so seriously and just enjoy the little things around me.

Turkey Run

Yesterday my sisters and I cooked a fried turkey. I was 25% sure that someone was going to get scalded by oil, so it was a pleasant surprise that everyone remained unharmed and the turkey turned out great! My culinary skills are minimal which meant my contribution to the turkey cooking was holding it up while my sisters applied the rub. I'm okay with this exchange. At least for now.