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.

FI?

I've been a little conflicted lately on what to do in the next few years. This year's tax return enabled my husband and I to pay the last bit of my student loan and bump up our emergency fund. I'm so happy to be debt free, but I'm not sure my next step. In 2011, we slowed down our aggressive saving/debt payments a little to save for trips and basically mess around. Everything feels like a big question mark. House? Fun? Travel? Nest egg? In keeping with my quandary, Get Rich Slowly had some literary advice for me.

I checked out both Your Money or Your Life and Work Less, Live More at the library. Hopefully this will give me some perspective for the future.

Well Done, Sister Suffragette

Shannon Hale's recent posts had me thinking a lot about the lack of female roles in animation. Setting aside quality considerations, she listed a 13:4 ratio of male to female appearances. This stinks.

This line of thinking also had me wondering what kind of portrayal I'd like to see if women actually did show up. There are several examples from television that I can draw from. I recently watched an amazing interview with Amy Poehler and Jane Lynch called Live Talks (via Vulture). These are hilarious, smart and capable women. What I find so great is when they address the 'what makes women funny' question with ambivalence noting that the comediennes before them paved the way.

I wonder if people are concerned that by consciously choosing to give women more of a voice, a hopefully realistic, non damsel-in-distress voice, that it will take something away from the authenticity of the story. I don't think that's the case. I don't even think that a story where the girl has to prove herself to the boys is necessary. Women can be warriors, nurturers, boring whatevers and not be about The Special Message.

I love that Jane and Amy talk about the real moments that can be found in Parks and Rec. How it can be every bit as grounded as it is humorous.

I guess what I'm saying is
Vote Leslie Knope.

Wincing

Apple released The Shins new video for "Simple Song" on iTunes. For the longest time, The Shins were my favorite musical group. They broke up, got new band members (including a girl?!, Jessica Dobson) and will be playing at Red Butte this summer to promote their new album, Port of Morrow, next month.

When The Shins played in the Olpin Ballroom at the U. I went with my sister and realized that the stage was six inches off the ground in a literal ballroom. Being in the front row was an interesting experience when you had to brace yourself from tipping into a singing James Mercer. Seriously, one of my favorite shows that year.

This Friday Night

I have little to no knowledge on the mechanics of football, but I did spend most of this weekend watching Friday Night Lights. I'm all about the small town charm and realistic characters. Alan Sepinwall's recaps (as usual) provide a great commentary on why this show was so great. I'm a little sad that my television watching has reduced so much. My next undertaking will be taking a crack at Downton Abbey and The Walking Dead.

The Civil Wars

I am hopelessly fixated on The Civil Wars. I just got Barton Hollow and have listened to it all day. Their songs are the kind that hurts, but the hurt feels like a relief. This is not so great for my crummy mood this week, but it is awesome for the new story I'm writing. It's a give and take.

A Little Envious

I'm not much of a fashion maven and I certainly don't follow all of the pre-fall, fall, pre-spring, spring collections that go on without me in places far more chic than my living room. Even so, it's nice to take a peek at Fashion Week and the fug girls make it so entertaining.

Also, if I could afford it, this dress is calling to me.

(Picture from last year's Rachel Zoe spring 2012 collection)

My Funny Valentine

I married the first boy I fell in love with. I hadn't planned on doing that. I had experienced adoration, admiration, affection, infatuation, lust, but never love. I was in high school when I thought 24 was a good age to get married. I was 23 when I thought 24 was an awful age to get married. I got married at 24.

Once I decided marriage wasn't going to be the most horrible thing, committing to my husband didn't disrupt my life so much as embellish it. I enjoy being a wife. I enjoy that the four years we've been together feel like lifetimes and mere moments all at once. I enjoy wading through the boring parts of life with a sturdy companion.

He makes me laugh, unintentionally and intentionally. He cooks me food, partly because he'd know I'd starve and partly because he's nice like that. He keeps us on track when I become frantic. He preempts shaving since he knows my beard preference. He makes me happy more times than he makes me sad. He's, you know, not terrible. So mushy!

Happy Valentine's Day!

The After

Of all the love stories on tv right now, I gotta say none carry the same weight for me as my dearly departed favorite, Everwood.

Everwood revolved around the Brown family. Julia Brown, the matriarch, held everyone together. When she died, her loved ones became kind of ghosts too. Until Dr. Andy Brown packed up his whole life, son, Ephram, daughter, Delia, and moved them to a place neither of them had ever heard of, Everwood, Colorado.

The transition was difficult as grief laid bare other issues. Andy had been a gifted surgeon but a parent in name only. How do you comfort your kids when they're strangers? Delia was easier, younger. Ephram was the challenge.

The series showcased Andy's immense love for Julia, but it's theme was always about Andy's love for Ephram. He hadn't been there for birthdays, piano recitals and special events. He hadn't known Ephram's friends or interests. But throughout the four years Everwood was on the air, he strove to make up for all his failings when Julia was alive.

There were other loves of note throughout the series. The Abbott Family especially were the kind of people to aspire to. Harold and Rose. Amy and Bright. So many connections that felt genuine and earned.

Everwood marathons invariably leave me dehydrated and wistful. But I still damn you, Berlanti.

Love This

See more at CollegeHumor

That's all.

Wedded Bliss

The best thing about my wedding was that I got married to the right guy, in the right place, with my family near by. That was also the only thing that turned out the way I thought it would.

Not that every surprise was always particularly bad, but the frequency of surprises came at a rate one would want to avoid on one's wedding. My husband always says it makes a good story.

Lightning, power outages, forgotten wedding dresses, mosquitoes, broken elevators, precipitous staircases, and tourist water being one of the many "surprises". I still can't believe I look back at that day and smile. I guess that's another symptom of love.

I saw some wedding pictures at Once Wed and instantly fell in love. I guess if there were ever a do over in my future, this would be what I'd aim for.

The Love of Words

I tried to think of hobbies I loved to do and found that the one I love the most only made me sound lame, but who cares?

I love to read. This is probably obvious in that I mention books quite often in previous blog posts. Though some are more challenging than others, navigating through stories of people's discoveries, adventures, tragedies and triumphs is one of my favorite things to do.

I started reading with a competitive spirit in mind. Mrs. Hammer's third grade class bred students with enthusiasm. We learned to play the ukelele, ran through exercise drills every morning, killed it in multiplication and bested all others in personal reading. The incentives were irrelevant (okay, I can't remember the incentives) but an entire wall was dedicated to who was best in class in every aspect.

Amanda Bagley and I were always one and two when it came to reading, alternating every week or so. She was of course one of my best friends and her mom was our girl scout leader. Man, it would grate when I came in at number two. This is when I would also read books I found in the library that were crazy above my reading level. Plot to The Red Badge of Courage? I don't think I ever knew!

I love this quote from Neil Gaiman which does a much better job to elucidate my point:

Sometimes fiction is a way of coping with the poison of the world in a way that lets us survive it. And I remembered. I would not be the person I am without the authors who made me what I am - the special ones, the wise ones, sometimes just the ones who got there first. It's not irrelevant, those moments of connection, those places where fiction saves your life. It's the most important thing there is.

Oh the practicing I must do!

Love Letter

I am an entry level minimalist and this weekend while I was purging discarded items, I rifled through some of the old cards I received from when I was younger. One of my favorites came in the mail a few days after a particularly difficult night when I was trying to downplay crying by blaming seasonal allergies. Didn't work.

I was fifteen. My family had moved into the neighborhood a year earlier. I can't even remember why I was crying. I just remember sitting on a couch in an alcove of my church, hopelessly embarrassed that my youth leader was being so nice to me in my time of distress.

She sent the note and told me she was thinking about me. Her note, most likely not coincidental, corresponded with Father's Day which added that little extra bit that I needed. Sometimes in my haste to distance myself from others, I forget how great those little moments are when someone does something so small and special. They remind me how not alone I am, how cared for. The woman moved away less than a year later, but I still remember her every now and again. And I remember what she did for me.

You win, V-Day

I've been sucked in by Valentine's Day, I think. I'm still not expecting presents or a big to do on the actual day, but every time I try to come up with a topic for this blog, I can only think of love stories. Next week, I will try to showcase a love story each day. I will start with my second favorite passage from Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney.

"It's like when you were born. It sounds crazy, but that's exactly what it's like."

"It hurt that much?"

"Terrible," she said. "You just didn't want to come out. I didn't think I'd live through it."

She sucked breath through her teeth and gripped your hand fiercely.

"So now you know why I love you so much."

You were not sure you understood, but her voice was so faint and dreamy that you didn't want to interrupt. You held her hand and watched her eyelids flicker, hoping she was dreaming. Birds were calling on all sides. You didn't think you had ever heard so many birds.

I don't want to comment too much and lose some of the magic of the scene, but I like the dynamic between mother and son. They don't have to completely understand each other. Sometimes the presence, the touch of a familiar hand, make up for the silences.