Who has time to blog right now???
See you in January!
December 16, 2008
December 5, 2008
Prop 8 The Musical
Coming to a high school near you...
I present to you, Prop 8 The Musical.
I present to you, Prop 8 The Musical.
See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die
December 3, 2008
Six Degrees of Charity
Kevin Bacon has taken the "six degrees of Kevin Bacon" game and is using it to do some good.
His charity-driven website, www.sixdegrees.org, is set up to enable people to buy a certificate as a gift for someone to donate to the charity of their choice. Partly run by the Network for Good, gift certificates or "Good Cards" can go toward over a million charities. When someone redeems their Good Card, they can search for their favorite charity, local or nationwide, by name, keyword and/or location. Certificates are available in $10, $25, $50 and $100 denominations and you can choose to have the card mailed (makes a great stocking stuffer) or emailed to the recipient.
The site was started in January 2007 and already has contributed over $2.4 million to charities. With the world in peril and the U.S. in the worst economic crisis since the Depression, charities and organizations that help people are more important than ever - so if you if there's someone on your list who seems to have everything or if you want to give something meaningful this holiday season, check it out.
His charity-driven website, www.sixdegrees.org, is set up to enable people to buy a certificate as a gift for someone to donate to the charity of their choice. Partly run by the Network for Good, gift certificates or "Good Cards" can go toward over a million charities. When someone redeems their Good Card, they can search for their favorite charity, local or nationwide, by name, keyword and/or location. Certificates are available in $10, $25, $50 and $100 denominations and you can choose to have the card mailed (makes a great stocking stuffer) or emailed to the recipient.
The site was started in January 2007 and already has contributed over $2.4 million to charities. With the world in peril and the U.S. in the worst economic crisis since the Depression, charities and organizations that help people are more important than ever - so if you if there's someone on your list who seems to have everything or if you want to give something meaningful this holiday season, check it out.
November 19, 2008
Why don't they just move?
Judging by the fact that I can eat my weight in ice cream, I'm not allergic to the cold like I thought. But for all of you nonbelievers out there, I'd say this is a very important step toward proving that I really am allergic to rain. :-)
November 18, 2008
I am a Blade of Grass
Do you ever have one of those days? One of those days in which no matter what you do or where you turn there is a cloud over your head that follows you and rains... and rains... and rains? So you're walking around with this cloud, soak and wet from the rain, looking for an umbrella, a hat, a piece of cardboard, anything to get under for shelter if only for a few brief moments and you finally see it, like a beacon shining in the night. You reach for it, grasp it and hold it close as the rain lifts, the clouds part and the sun shines bright once again.
Depending on your situation, your umbrella could be a lot of things. A comforting friend. A welcomed distraction. A higher power. A vigorous workout. A keyboard and a blank page. It changes from day to day. What works one day might not work on another.
Recently I was having such a rainy day. I was feeling quite sloshy and in dire need of a good pair of galoshes and, through suggestion, I got them - in the form of I Ching. An ancient Chinese text, the I Ching is based on three principles:
Simplicity - The fundamental law underlying everything in the universe is utterly plain and simple, no matter how abstract or complex some things may appear to be.
Variability - Everything in the universe is continually changing. By comprehending this, one may realize the importance of flexibility in life and may thus cultivate the proper attitude for dealing with diverse situations.
Persistence - While everything in the universe is changing, among the changing tides there is a persistent principle, a central rule, which does not vary with space and time.
To read the I Ching, I "rolled" three coins a total of six times. The three coins added up to a number and the numbers corresponded to a hexagram or symbol which then corresponded to a particular text or passage in the book.
All six of my "rolls" produced either a 7 or an 8 - pretty consistent - and that pointed to a passage about perseverance. It said that sometimes we are like a blade of grass pushing out of the earth in our effort to grow. Sometimes we are fragile and subject to stronger forces that try to push us backward into the ground, but we persevere because it is our intention, our course, to grow and to push through the difficulty. In order to do that we must remain calm within ourselves and in the face of hardship and hold tightly to the truth that we will pull through and reach toward the sky.
So it is that I am a blade of grass.
And that got me thinking... grass needs rain to grow. The hardships that temporarily set me back are just as important as the sunlight that pulls me forward. I need the rain to learn and to appreciate the sunshine. So yes, in life, a little rain must fall... but it is temporary and I will be all the greener for it. :-)
Depending on your situation, your umbrella could be a lot of things. A comforting friend. A welcomed distraction. A higher power. A vigorous workout. A keyboard and a blank page. It changes from day to day. What works one day might not work on another.
Recently I was having such a rainy day. I was feeling quite sloshy and in dire need of a good pair of galoshes and, through suggestion, I got them - in the form of I Ching. An ancient Chinese text, the I Ching is based on three principles:
Simplicity - The fundamental law underlying everything in the universe is utterly plain and simple, no matter how abstract or complex some things may appear to be.
Variability - Everything in the universe is continually changing. By comprehending this, one may realize the importance of flexibility in life and may thus cultivate the proper attitude for dealing with diverse situations.
Persistence - While everything in the universe is changing, among the changing tides there is a persistent principle, a central rule, which does not vary with space and time.
To read the I Ching, I "rolled" three coins a total of six times. The three coins added up to a number and the numbers corresponded to a hexagram or symbol which then corresponded to a particular text or passage in the book.
All six of my "rolls" produced either a 7 or an 8 - pretty consistent - and that pointed to a passage about perseverance. It said that sometimes we are like a blade of grass pushing out of the earth in our effort to grow. Sometimes we are fragile and subject to stronger forces that try to push us backward into the ground, but we persevere because it is our intention, our course, to grow and to push through the difficulty. In order to do that we must remain calm within ourselves and in the face of hardship and hold tightly to the truth that we will pull through and reach toward the sky.
So it is that I am a blade of grass.
And that got me thinking... grass needs rain to grow. The hardships that temporarily set me back are just as important as the sunlight that pulls me forward. I need the rain to learn and to appreciate the sunshine. So yes, in life, a little rain must fall... but it is temporary and I will be all the greener for it. :-)
November 13, 2008
Give Me My Daily Bread
I have a love affair with bread. Dating back to the ketchup and bologna sandwiches on Wonder bread of my youth, I've spent years entrapped in doughy goodness. Eating around the crust and pulling out the warm centers of a roll, eating bread was a favorite pastime and no two baguettes were the same. I agree with my friend Shelly who said of a warm loaf, "It's so good, you just want to stick your face in it."So it was with great reluctance that I recently embarked on a two-week wheat- and gluten-free diet in the hopes of discovering a hidden food allergy or sensitivity. Not only was I banned from the bakery, I also had to avoid caffeine, sugar, soy, red meat, dairy, chocolate and processed foods. Telling co-workers and friends about my plan yielded one common response "What the heck are you gonna eat?"
Well, see, there are these things called fruits and vegetables that grow in the ground and on trees and you can eat them raw or cooked and some of them actually taste pretty good. Perhaps you've heard of them?
I wasn't so worried about what I would eat. I'm pretty creative in the kitchen and I made some great dishes like Italian White Bean soup and Black Bean Mexican Quinoa salad. But it was challenging. Every time I opened the fridge I could hear the chocolate bars snickering and and see the Kraft singles smiling their cheesy mocking smile. I was singing the Ain't Got No Bread Blues and a few days into the detox I wanted to rip someone's head off. A friend started referring to my "crazy detox eyes." I suggested she keep a biscuit in her back pocket in case I did anything rash.
By day 11 I would have given my left arm for a sandwich. By day 12, my right. But by day 13 something changed. Suddenly I could drive by Great Harest without bursting into tears, people stopped looking like walking loaves of French bread and I no longer spent my nights dreaming of crunchy garlic croutons. It was a miracle! The "bread moodies" were virtually gone and I have so much energy that I practically leap out of bed in the morning, much to the cats' dismay.
Still, I look forward to the day when I will once again be one with my loaf. :-)
November 12, 2008
Hockey is Life
I've played six games of hockey now. Six nights of stepping out onto the ice. Six nights of trying to stop on skates. Six nights of velcro. But it wasn't until my sixth game that I really fell for hockey.
Well, sort of. :-)
What I really mean to say is that it wasn't until my sixth game that I allowed myself to fall on the ice; that I allowed myself to lose a little bit of control and to not be so concerned with embarrassment or looking silly.
Pyper, a teammate of mine, described my skating sweetly saying that I was methodical on the ice, deliberate in my moves, gliding along. Dare I say graceful? And while I'd love to picture myself in this way, floating along the ice like Kristi Yamaguchi, the truth of the matter is I'm slow simply because I can't skate any faster! And as for being deliberate... well...
I'm a person who likes to be in control. There, I said it. Do I get a cookie now? :-) I like to be in control of myself and, if at all possible, the situation as well. I think things out thoroughly, I play scenarios in my head, I like to know what's going on and I hate to be in the dark.
Enter hockey...
At first glance, one would easily surmise that hockey is not a sport of control and deliberation - at least not at the amateur level. Too bad I missed that day in class because I was determined to retain my calm methodical composure in this new sport. Uh, HELLO! I'm on ICE for crying out loud! How much control did I think I could possibly have?
Remember that one of my goals in my first game was to not fall? I was proud that I didn't fall the entire game, nor the game after that, and I continued to keep that goal as a sign of accomplishment. One night I had a particularly frustrating game. I was confused about where to be, I was frustrated immensely with my lack of skill and I wasn't having a lick of fun. To combat my frustration, Nicole and I went to the rink a few days later to work on my skating. An hour on the ice and still not able to stop on skates, I at least left the rink with a new outlook (and a pretty good snap shot, I might add).
My new outlook was simply this - falling is learning.
If I really wanted to advance, if I really wanted to learn, I had to try to stop, try to turn, try to skate balls out the length of the rink even if that means falling - and it inevitably would. But then there would come a time where I would try and I wouldn't fall. That's where the real accomplishments lie - beyond the fall. But still, that meant giving up control and I wasn't sure I could do it.
A few days later at our next game, I stepped onto the ice with a radically different goal - I was going to fall. A lot. And I did. I spent more time sliding across the ice on my bum than I did skating but you know what? I was aggressive and I made plays and I heard "Nice, Mel!" Great job, Mel" coming from the bench. Sure I looked more like Bambi than Yamaguchi, but I wasn't embarrassed. In fact, I was proud that my socks were soaked with water by the end of the game.
The best part was being recognized by my teammates for trying harder. No one cared that I fell because it was seen as improvement. A rite of passage to becoming better at a sport so foreign to me.
So from now on I'll leave my need for control in the locker room and I'm going to try more, inevitably fall more, and get a heck of a lot better at getting up.
Hockey is life, lesson #1.
Well, sort of. :-)
What I really mean to say is that it wasn't until my sixth game that I allowed myself to fall on the ice; that I allowed myself to lose a little bit of control and to not be so concerned with embarrassment or looking silly.
Pyper, a teammate of mine, described my skating sweetly saying that I was methodical on the ice, deliberate in my moves, gliding along. Dare I say graceful? And while I'd love to picture myself in this way, floating along the ice like Kristi Yamaguchi, the truth of the matter is I'm slow simply because I can't skate any faster! And as for being deliberate... well...
I'm a person who likes to be in control. There, I said it. Do I get a cookie now? :-) I like to be in control of myself and, if at all possible, the situation as well. I think things out thoroughly, I play scenarios in my head, I like to know what's going on and I hate to be in the dark.
Enter hockey...
At first glance, one would easily surmise that hockey is not a sport of control and deliberation - at least not at the amateur level. Too bad I missed that day in class because I was determined to retain my calm methodical composure in this new sport. Uh, HELLO! I'm on ICE for crying out loud! How much control did I think I could possibly have?
Remember that one of my goals in my first game was to not fall? I was proud that I didn't fall the entire game, nor the game after that, and I continued to keep that goal as a sign of accomplishment. One night I had a particularly frustrating game. I was confused about where to be, I was frustrated immensely with my lack of skill and I wasn't having a lick of fun. To combat my frustration, Nicole and I went to the rink a few days later to work on my skating. An hour on the ice and still not able to stop on skates, I at least left the rink with a new outlook (and a pretty good snap shot, I might add).
My new outlook was simply this - falling is learning.
If I really wanted to advance, if I really wanted to learn, I had to try to stop, try to turn, try to skate balls out the length of the rink even if that means falling - and it inevitably would. But then there would come a time where I would try and I wouldn't fall. That's where the real accomplishments lie - beyond the fall. But still, that meant giving up control and I wasn't sure I could do it.
A few days later at our next game, I stepped onto the ice with a radically different goal - I was going to fall. A lot. And I did. I spent more time sliding across the ice on my bum than I did skating but you know what? I was aggressive and I made plays and I heard "Nice, Mel!" Great job, Mel" coming from the bench. Sure I looked more like Bambi than Yamaguchi, but I wasn't embarrassed. In fact, I was proud that my socks were soaked with water by the end of the game.
The best part was being recognized by my teammates for trying harder. No one cared that I fell because it was seen as improvement. A rite of passage to becoming better at a sport so foreign to me.
So from now on I'll leave my need for control in the locker room and I'm going to try more, inevitably fall more, and get a heck of a lot better at getting up.
Hockey is life, lesson #1.
Yes We Can
Yes we can.
To justice and equality,
To opportunity and prosperity,
Heal this nation,
Repair this world,
YES WE CAN.
Here's to hope and our new first family!
Can't wait to trim those "hedges" on January 20th!
To justice and equality,
To opportunity and prosperity,
Heal this nation,
Repair this world,
YES WE CAN.
Here's to hope and our new first family!
Can't wait to trim those "hedges" on January 20th!
November 5, 2008
November 4, 2008
I Voted!
November 4, 2008. 6:45am. It's dark outside but just light enough to make out a sheath of frost covering the ground and my breath puffing in small clouds in front of me. Normally sleeping under a mountain of blankets this early in the morning, I'm surprisingly alert. Excited to be waiting in line outside in the cold, jumping up and down and hugging myself for warmth. And I'm not the only one. The 50 or so other people joining me are smiling and buzzing with anticipation. Neighbors call to each other, "Hello, Miss Julia, how are you this morning!" "Good morning, sir! Fine morning isn't it?"
So this is what it feels like to make history. Millions of people all over the country waiting in long lines, some for as long as eight hours, just to cast one vote. Folks standing in the pouring rain at an elementary school at 5:30 in the morning, just to do their civic duty. And all the while, they are smiling and they are proud because they know they are a part of history today. No matter what happens.
Plus, your I Voted sticker can get you all kinds of free stuff today like a free coffee at Starbucks, a free donut at Krispy Kreme, and a free scoop of ice cream at Ben & Jerry's! As if making history wasn't enough...
So this is what it feels like to make history. Millions of people all over the country waiting in long lines, some for as long as eight hours, just to cast one vote. Folks standing in the pouring rain at an elementary school at 5:30 in the morning, just to do their civic duty. And all the while, they are smiling and they are proud because they know they are a part of history today. No matter what happens.
Plus, your I Voted sticker can get you all kinds of free stuff today like a free coffee at Starbucks, a free donut at Krispy Kreme, and a free scoop of ice cream at Ben & Jerry's! As if making history wasn't enough...
October 24, 2008
I'm No Cinderella
I've lived in Michigan my entire life so you would think I would have thicker skin. Or blood. Or whatever it is that I'm supposed to have. I should be accustomed to the drafts of cold air sneaking in from underneath doors and around the windows, but, alas, I am convinced I was born in the wrong state. After about October 15th, my toes say goodbye to their freedom as I lovingly place my flip flops in the closet where they sleep away the winter, clinging to the last specs of sand from their lazy summer days at the beach. Whispering "see you in the Spring," I close the closet door and realize that as the weather gets colder and my toes turn blue, my socks just don't measure up. Even my SmartWools can't warm up the ice cubes that were once my toes. (Though, they are without a doubt the best socks I've ever worn. If you've never had a pair of SmartWools, do yourself a favor and get some. They're worth the $10 a pair. And they're not even paying me to say that)
So after a few weeks of stealing Nicole's slippers when she's not around, I meander over to Kohl's during lunch yesterday to find all of the slippers on sale! Every kind of slipper I ever dreamed of - flip flops, booties, mules, ballet, moccasins, fur-lined, terry cloth. I'm overwhelmed with choices but my toes literally tingle with excitement at the promises of warmth in each aisle of fuzzy yummy slippers.
After 20 minutes of walking through each aisle and picking up each pair, turning them over, squeezing them, petting them, (you know you do it too) I begin to wonder why it is that, unlike shoes, no one ever tries on slippers in the store. They're just as important as shoes as far as fit and function, maybe even more so. We've all bought uncomfortable shoes for the sake of fashion, but uncomfortable slippers would completely defeat the purpose. Not to mention the fact that slippers don't come in sizes like shoes do - all the more reason to slip one on before buying.
But yet I don't do it for fear of committing some kind of unspoken social faux pas, some unwritten rule that says you can't remove your shoes in the slipper aisle or you'll be banished from the department store with a scarlet S forever branded on your forehead.
Maybe it's because slippers are intimate and considered more of an undergarment because, while they are worn on the outside of clothing, they are almost never worn outside the house. Maybe it's because no one actually ever goes slipper shopping for themselves because they'll inevitably get a pair for Christmas from Aunt Martha. Or maybe it's simply that you can't get your foot inside of a pair of slippers in the store because they are stapled together, tied up with a ribbon or nestled inside of a sealed box, leaving you to squeezing and petting them as you close your eyes and imagine yourself in your bathrobe and your new pair of slippers scuffling along your kitchen floor.
Thirty minutes pass and I've already had three different pairs of slippers in my hands. Too girly... Not girly enough... Too hard... Too soft... I morph into a combination of Goldilocks and Cinderella before I finally settle on a pair of light blue, yummy soft, mule slippers on sale for eight bucks - a small price to pay for warmth.
So after a few weeks of stealing Nicole's slippers when she's not around, I meander over to Kohl's during lunch yesterday to find all of the slippers on sale! Every kind of slipper I ever dreamed of - flip flops, booties, mules, ballet, moccasins, fur-lined, terry cloth. I'm overwhelmed with choices but my toes literally tingle with excitement at the promises of warmth in each aisle of fuzzy yummy slippers.
After 20 minutes of walking through each aisle and picking up each pair, turning them over, squeezing them, petting them, (you know you do it too) I begin to wonder why it is that, unlike shoes, no one ever tries on slippers in the store. They're just as important as shoes as far as fit and function, maybe even more so. We've all bought uncomfortable shoes for the sake of fashion, but uncomfortable slippers would completely defeat the purpose. Not to mention the fact that slippers don't come in sizes like shoes do - all the more reason to slip one on before buying.
But yet I don't do it for fear of committing some kind of unspoken social faux pas, some unwritten rule that says you can't remove your shoes in the slipper aisle or you'll be banished from the department store with a scarlet S forever branded on your forehead.
Maybe it's because slippers are intimate and considered more of an undergarment because, while they are worn on the outside of clothing, they are almost never worn outside the house. Maybe it's because no one actually ever goes slipper shopping for themselves because they'll inevitably get a pair for Christmas from Aunt Martha. Or maybe it's simply that you can't get your foot inside of a pair of slippers in the store because they are stapled together, tied up with a ribbon or nestled inside of a sealed box, leaving you to squeezing and petting them as you close your eyes and imagine yourself in your bathrobe and your new pair of slippers scuffling along your kitchen floor.
Thirty minutes pass and I've already had three different pairs of slippers in my hands. Too girly... Not girly enough... Too hard... Too soft... I morph into a combination of Goldilocks and Cinderella before I finally settle on a pair of light blue, yummy soft, mule slippers on sale for eight bucks - a small price to pay for warmth.
October 17, 2008
It's a Michigan Thing
Second only to watching the Lions lose on Thanksgiving Day, Fall leaf and color tours are a tradition in the mitten. Every September and October my family, armed with salami sandwiches, yogurt-covered raisins and a 35mm camera, hopped into the car in search of, yes, trees. Trees ablaze with burning reds, sunny yellows and vibrant oranges. We would drive hours to see a rainbow of trees reflecting in the turquoise waters of Torch Lake or dotting the hills of Kalkaska. The view from atop Dead Man's Hill would leave us breathless.
It's safe to say that I grew up with a fervent appreciation for the beauty of a Michigan Autumn and it was that appreciation, along with a spectacular birthday present from Nicole, that led the two of us on a color tour of our own this past weekend.
With the sun shining on a unheard-of 75-degree day, we set out for Mackinaw City on Saturday morning. A few trees were turning in the lower half of the state but it wasn't until a few hours north that we really noticed the changing landscape. Every other word was "oooh!" or "look at that!" Reluctant to stick my expensive digital camera out the window for a shot, I tried a few through-the-window photos...
We arrived in Mackinaw City in time to catch the 3pm ferry to the island. The sparkling water, the majestic Mackinac Bridge and the island in all its history and color was an incredible sight. Here are some shots we took on the island.
After two incredible days on the island, we drove west toward Harbor Springs down highway 119 known as The Tunnel of Trees. A barely two-lane road winding along a bluff high above lake Michigan, these pictures don't do it justice, but I think you'll get a pretty good idea how amazing it was.
Ending the day with a lovely lunch on a picnic table at the marina (we highly recommend Cornichons Market in Harbor Springs) we headed home already brimming with ideas for next year.
VOTE
This is an off-the-cuff post today because as I was thinking about the impending presidential election on my morning commute (all eight minutes of it) and I needed to write about my obsession with the election. Truly, I am obsessed. And this is strange for me because, like a lot of things in my adult life, I was a late bloomer when it came to understanding and being involved in politics. I did not vote for the first presidential election I was eligible for (GASP! I know!) because I was too ignorant to make a decision. (At least I recognized my ignorance, unlike a lot of Americans - yes, that means you, crazy McCain rally lady!)
As a young adult, politics was right up there with the stock market - I had no understanding nor did I really want to take the time to gain it. None of it seemed to affect me in the least as I was studying in college and planning my future as the successful wife of an Amway distributor. (Thank GOODNESS I saw the light on that one early!) The issues confused me, no one seemed to be a reliable source and I couldn't bring myself to read all the newspapers or watch CNN for more than five minutes.
But gradually, as I entered the world and the workforce and began realizing that those in office really could affect how I live my life, I started to take notice. As soon as my rights as a human and as a woman were in jeopardy, you're damn right I started to take notice. As I learned more about the nearly irreparable damage we've caused the earth (again, you know how I feel about the polar bears), I began to take a greater interest in politics. When I couldn't stand to hear the voice of the leader of our country, when I had no respect for him or belief that he had the best interest of the American people in mind, I knew that I had changed and that it was time to grow up and become involved.
The buzz about this year's election is enthralling. Forecasts suspect the highest voter turnout ever in our nation's history. Two capable and respected Democratic leaders vied for the nomination to run, a woman and an African American. And now the two are a united front, a force to be reckoned with, a team of level-headed, fair, intelligent and worthy politicians.
I am filled with equal amounts of hope and despair. I'm afraid to have too much hope... I dream about the elections at night. I've lost sleep. I look forward to November 4th, yet at the same time I fear it. Like a final exam that I believe the American people can pass, but I'm not sure if those that have a vision can carry those that haven't done their homework.
My hope is sprinkled with cynicism too. I'm not so naive as to think that Obama will be able to carry out everything that he has promised. He's only one man and while he shines to me like a beacon of hope, I know that he is no magician, no messiah of the White House. But I respect him, and that, my friends, means a lot. Charisma, intelligence, class, Obama's vision closely resembles my own. No utopia by any means, but a world in which my rights are not questioned. A world in which our young people have access to better education. A world in which we produce cleaner fuels and more and better jobs.
So here we are now, just 17 days away from election day and I'm not going to urge you to vote for Obama (although I hope that you will), but I do urge you to VOTE. If you don't vote, you are giving up any and all power that you hold as a citizen of this country. If you don't vote, you get what you deserve. Would you let someone else decide for you what you were going to wear, where you were going to work, what you were going to have for lunch and what friends you can have - every single day for the next four years? Of course not. Then why would you let someone else decide how much of your hard-earned money will be taxed, what rights your sisters, mothers, girlfriends have as women, where your healthcare is coming from and how much it's going to cost?
Yes, you are just one vote, but as my wise-beyond-her-years girlfriend says "I am only one voice, but I will shout from the rooftops and bring forth the echo of thousands."
I will listen for your echo on November 4th.
As a young adult, politics was right up there with the stock market - I had no understanding nor did I really want to take the time to gain it. None of it seemed to affect me in the least as I was studying in college and planning my future as the successful wife of an Amway distributor. (Thank GOODNESS I saw the light on that one early!) The issues confused me, no one seemed to be a reliable source and I couldn't bring myself to read all the newspapers or watch CNN for more than five minutes.
But gradually, as I entered the world and the workforce and began realizing that those in office really could affect how I live my life, I started to take notice. As soon as my rights as a human and as a woman were in jeopardy, you're damn right I started to take notice. As I learned more about the nearly irreparable damage we've caused the earth (again, you know how I feel about the polar bears), I began to take a greater interest in politics. When I couldn't stand to hear the voice of the leader of our country, when I had no respect for him or belief that he had the best interest of the American people in mind, I knew that I had changed and that it was time to grow up and become involved.
The buzz about this year's election is enthralling. Forecasts suspect the highest voter turnout ever in our nation's history. Two capable and respected Democratic leaders vied for the nomination to run, a woman and an African American. And now the two are a united front, a force to be reckoned with, a team of level-headed, fair, intelligent and worthy politicians.
I am filled with equal amounts of hope and despair. I'm afraid to have too much hope... I dream about the elections at night. I've lost sleep. I look forward to November 4th, yet at the same time I fear it. Like a final exam that I believe the American people can pass, but I'm not sure if those that have a vision can carry those that haven't done their homework.
My hope is sprinkled with cynicism too. I'm not so naive as to think that Obama will be able to carry out everything that he has promised. He's only one man and while he shines to me like a beacon of hope, I know that he is no magician, no messiah of the White House. But I respect him, and that, my friends, means a lot. Charisma, intelligence, class, Obama's vision closely resembles my own. No utopia by any means, but a world in which my rights are not questioned. A world in which our young people have access to better education. A world in which we produce cleaner fuels and more and better jobs.
So here we are now, just 17 days away from election day and I'm not going to urge you to vote for Obama (although I hope that you will), but I do urge you to VOTE. If you don't vote, you are giving up any and all power that you hold as a citizen of this country. If you don't vote, you get what you deserve. Would you let someone else decide for you what you were going to wear, where you were going to work, what you were going to have for lunch and what friends you can have - every single day for the next four years? Of course not. Then why would you let someone else decide how much of your hard-earned money will be taxed, what rights your sisters, mothers, girlfriends have as women, where your healthcare is coming from and how much it's going to cost?
Yes, you are just one vote, but as my wise-beyond-her-years girlfriend says "I am only one voice, but I will shout from the rooftops and bring forth the echo of thousands."
I will listen for your echo on November 4th.
October 9, 2008
October 7, 2008
Three goals!
I had three goals in my first hockey game Friday night. Unfortunately they didn't have any impact on the scoreboard.
Sipping a tall Shirley Temple at Red Lobster to calm my nerves, I decided to combat my competitive nature, my desire to be able to skate like Gretzky on my first time out and my looming disappointment when I inevitably fall flat on my face mask with a few, simple personal goals.
The first goal was one I have every time I step out onto the ice - don't fall. And while I skated the entire game without a spill I'm beginning to believe that it's not as worthwhile a goal as I first thought. Why be timid? I should just go balls out and see what happens. It's not like it's going to hurt...much.
My second goal was to keep my stick on the ice and my post-game aching lower back can attest to my success.
Thirdly, I'm a team player and I didn't want ALL of my goals to be ALL about me, therefore, my last goal was to make at least one good pass. This required stopping the puck with my stick, finding an open player in good position and successfully getting the puck to that person. Sounds easy, right? Except that it also required skating, stopping, and staying upright with other players rushing toward me. Panic was unavoidable but as I scooped the puck and it glided over the ice to meet the blade of my teammate's stick, I was satisfied with my performance.
One game and three goals down.... maybe next time I'll score one.
Sipping a tall Shirley Temple at Red Lobster to calm my nerves, I decided to combat my competitive nature, my desire to be able to skate like Gretzky on my first time out and my looming disappointment when I inevitably fall flat on my face mask with a few, simple personal goals.
The first goal was one I have every time I step out onto the ice - don't fall. And while I skated the entire game without a spill I'm beginning to believe that it's not as worthwhile a goal as I first thought. Why be timid? I should just go balls out and see what happens. It's not like it's going to hurt...much.
My second goal was to keep my stick on the ice and my post-game aching lower back can attest to my success.
Thirdly, I'm a team player and I didn't want ALL of my goals to be ALL about me, therefore, my last goal was to make at least one good pass. This required stopping the puck with my stick, finding an open player in good position and successfully getting the puck to that person. Sounds easy, right? Except that it also required skating, stopping, and staying upright with other players rushing toward me. Panic was unavoidable but as I scooped the puck and it glided over the ice to meet the blade of my teammate's stick, I was satisfied with my performance.
One game and three goals down.... maybe next time I'll score one.
September 25, 2008
Sick Day 2
After another day of feeling like death and waiting for Nicole to get home to relieve me of my crippling ennui, I decide to stop being a victim and take matters into my own hands. Armed with my laptop and a wealth of information at my fingertips, I research homeopathic remedies for colds and sinus infections and devise a plan (insert evil laugh here).
I drink tea. Echinacea, said to boost your immunity, is best ingested in tea form - especially if you add honey and lemon which also have healing properties. I can't say that it made all that much of a difference for me, but it sure did make an awfully yummy tea and any day that I get to squeeze honey out of a happy little bear is a good day.
I pop pills. In addition to the decongestants, antihistamines and Zy-Cam nose swabs, I take Vitamin C, zinc, and a multi-vitamin. But truly my favorite is the Benedryl for sleepy time.
I gargle. As a kid I was told that gargling with warm salt water will help heal a sore throat and I've come to learn that this is no wives' tale. It actually works. Take a glass of warm water and dump in as much salt as you can handle. Don't worry, that gagging reflex is completely normal.
I steam. Breathing in warm, moist (I can't believe I just typed that word, ugh) air helps to open and nourish the nasal passages. There are two ways to do this. The first is to take a scalding hot shower and turn your bathroom into a rainforest. Not only is it 70 degrees out and the last thing I want to do is take a hot sweaty shower, it's a waste of water. So I opt for option B, leaning over a boiling bowl of water with a towel on my head. Added bonus - it's a facial too! And it works , especially when I add a little bit of eucalyptus and peppermint essential oils. Ahhhh....
I eat garlic. Raw. And lots of it. Garlic has been used for centuries for it's medicinal properties and ancient Indians believed it was an aphrodisiac (who are they kidding?). When consumed raw, the acids in garlic have been observed to kill 23 different types of bacteria including salmonella. This is great! Surely it will cure those nasty germs that have taken up residence in my sinuses. I ate six, yes, six, cloves of raw garlic in one day and I believe my burning esophagus and tearing eyes were every bit worth it. And boy did I smell good.
I eat hot sauce. Actually, I drink hot sauce. Spurned by a number of favorable reviews for a "tomato tea" I found online, I heat up some V8, add a few dashes of lemon juice, a couple of cloves of garlic and a healthy dose of Frank's Red Hot Sauce and sip. Supposedly the tomato juice provides an ample amount of vitamin C, the garlic, as discussed above, has various benefits, the hot sauce clears the sinuses and I have no idea what the lemon juice does. Sipped a couple of times a day, I actually enjoyed the way the warm tomato juice felt on my throat and the hot sauce had me constantly reaching for the tissues.
I drink apple cider vinegar. This is a new one for me and, I'll admit, a desperate attempt to get better. Through my research I discovered that many people swear by a concoction of 1-2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar (ACV) with 8 ounces of water drank first thing in the morning or slowly throughout the day. Not only do folks attest to the clearing of sinuses but many other great benefits like improved digestion, less heartburn, more energy, and a clearer complexion. Careful to not believe everything I read about this wonder cure, I'm still quick to text my dear girlfriend to bring me home a bottle of ACV. The smell reminds me of coloring eggs on Easter and is almost comforting. The taste isn't even that bad... kind of like drinking watered down apple cider with a splash of salad dressing. Whether it actually helped or whether I was already on the mend, I don't know, but two days later I was breathing a whole heck of a lot better. And still smelling damn good too.
I drink tea. Echinacea, said to boost your immunity, is best ingested in tea form - especially if you add honey and lemon which also have healing properties. I can't say that it made all that much of a difference for me, but it sure did make an awfully yummy tea and any day that I get to squeeze honey out of a happy little bear is a good day.
I pop pills. In addition to the decongestants, antihistamines and Zy-Cam nose swabs, I take Vitamin C, zinc, and a multi-vitamin. But truly my favorite is the Benedryl for sleepy time.
I gargle. As a kid I was told that gargling with warm salt water will help heal a sore throat and I've come to learn that this is no wives' tale. It actually works. Take a glass of warm water and dump in as much salt as you can handle. Don't worry, that gagging reflex is completely normal.
I steam. Breathing in warm, moist (I can't believe I just typed that word, ugh) air helps to open and nourish the nasal passages. There are two ways to do this. The first is to take a scalding hot shower and turn your bathroom into a rainforest. Not only is it 70 degrees out and the last thing I want to do is take a hot sweaty shower, it's a waste of water. So I opt for option B, leaning over a boiling bowl of water with a towel on my head. Added bonus - it's a facial too! And it works , especially when I add a little bit of eucalyptus and peppermint essential oils. Ahhhh....
I eat garlic. Raw. And lots of it. Garlic has been used for centuries for it's medicinal properties and ancient Indians believed it was an aphrodisiac (who are they kidding?). When consumed raw, the acids in garlic have been observed to kill 23 different types of bacteria including salmonella. This is great! Surely it will cure those nasty germs that have taken up residence in my sinuses. I ate six, yes, six, cloves of raw garlic in one day and I believe my burning esophagus and tearing eyes were every bit worth it. And boy did I smell good.
I eat hot sauce. Actually, I drink hot sauce. Spurned by a number of favorable reviews for a "tomato tea" I found online, I heat up some V8, add a few dashes of lemon juice, a couple of cloves of garlic and a healthy dose of Frank's Red Hot Sauce and sip. Supposedly the tomato juice provides an ample amount of vitamin C, the garlic, as discussed above, has various benefits, the hot sauce clears the sinuses and I have no idea what the lemon juice does. Sipped a couple of times a day, I actually enjoyed the way the warm tomato juice felt on my throat and the hot sauce had me constantly reaching for the tissues.
I drink apple cider vinegar. This is a new one for me and, I'll admit, a desperate attempt to get better. Through my research I discovered that many people swear by a concoction of 1-2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar (ACV) with 8 ounces of water drank first thing in the morning or slowly throughout the day. Not only do folks attest to the clearing of sinuses but many other great benefits like improved digestion, less heartburn, more energy, and a clearer complexion. Careful to not believe everything I read about this wonder cure, I'm still quick to text my dear girlfriend to bring me home a bottle of ACV. The smell reminds me of coloring eggs on Easter and is almost comforting. The taste isn't even that bad... kind of like drinking watered down apple cider with a splash of salad dressing. Whether it actually helped or whether I was already on the mend, I don't know, but two days later I was breathing a whole heck of a lot better. And still smelling damn good too.
September 24, 2008
Sick Day 1
I'm a girl on the move. I'm busy, I have a lot on my plate and I like it that way. A run before volleyball? Sure! Bike 18 miles round trip to work, go to yoga, cook dinner, and clean the house? Easy! (you think I'm exaggerating?) Well sometimes I can't even keep up with myself and my body reminds me that, contrary to how I run it, it is not a machine and it slows down...way down...until I am a prisoner of my mortality, held captive until I promise to be a good girl and rest.
Ok, fine, you win filthy icky germs. On the couch I go. You would think that an entire day on the couch with a mug of hot tea, the Dalai Lama's See Yourself As You Really Are, a soft fuzzy blanket wrapped around my shoulders and the cats curled around my feet would be the picture of relaxation and contentment, but somehow feeling like I'm swallowing razors and sucking air through a hole the size of gnat makes it slightly less enjoyable.
I've got my tea and my blanky, I'm inspired by Mr. Lama, and it's nice for the first, oh, half hour or so, but then I get anxious. My eyes keep going to the window where a gorgeous 70-degree sunny day is shaping up without me. How dare the sun shine when I can't enjoy it? It's not fair! I was born to breathe in days like this, to bask in the sunshine, to smell the clean, crisp air. Of course that would require both breathing and smelling, neither of which I am currently capable of.
Nobody to talk to because all of the healthy, functioning people in the world are either at work, school or out enjoying the gorgeous, mocking day, I turn on the TV and I'm shocked to find that out of 172 channels, absolutely nothing is on. After watching bits of Friends, The View, and Mystery Diagnosis I settle on the movie Capote since I've been meaning to watch it and it will at least make me feel like I'm being somewhat intellectual. That's two hours of my life I will never get back.
Next I pick up my laptop and try to write because I'm always wishing I had more time to write. No distractions, the apartment to myself, a perfect opportunity. But instead I stare at a blank screen for a few moments and give up. It seems the germs have taken hostage every functioning brain cell or ounce of creativity I possess.
Bored, frustrated, and depressed, I take a few deeps breaths and give in to napping. Ah, finally... time well spent...
Ok, fine, you win filthy icky germs. On the couch I go. You would think that an entire day on the couch with a mug of hot tea, the Dalai Lama's See Yourself As You Really Are, a soft fuzzy blanket wrapped around my shoulders and the cats curled around my feet would be the picture of relaxation and contentment, but somehow feeling like I'm swallowing razors and sucking air through a hole the size of gnat makes it slightly less enjoyable.
I've got my tea and my blanky, I'm inspired by Mr. Lama, and it's nice for the first, oh, half hour or so, but then I get anxious. My eyes keep going to the window where a gorgeous 70-degree sunny day is shaping up without me. How dare the sun shine when I can't enjoy it? It's not fair! I was born to breathe in days like this, to bask in the sunshine, to smell the clean, crisp air. Of course that would require both breathing and smelling, neither of which I am currently capable of.
Nobody to talk to because all of the healthy, functioning people in the world are either at work, school or out enjoying the gorgeous, mocking day, I turn on the TV and I'm shocked to find that out of 172 channels, absolutely nothing is on. After watching bits of Friends, The View, and Mystery Diagnosis I settle on the movie Capote since I've been meaning to watch it and it will at least make me feel like I'm being somewhat intellectual. That's two hours of my life I will never get back.
Next I pick up my laptop and try to write because I'm always wishing I had more time to write. No distractions, the apartment to myself, a perfect opportunity. But instead I stare at a blank screen for a few moments and give up. It seems the germs have taken hostage every functioning brain cell or ounce of creativity I possess.
Bored, frustrated, and depressed, I take a few deeps breaths and give in to napping. Ah, finally... time well spent...
September 23, 2008
A Golden Temple
I watched more television during the Beijing Olympics this summer than I had watched in five years. Every night men and women from all of the world competed in swimming, gymnastics, track and field, beach volleyball, diving, synchronized swimming and my new favorite, water polo. It was a captivating summer of firsts including Iran and Bahrain's first ever Olympic medals, beach volleyball's first ever back-to-back gold medalists, and of course, the record breaker of all record breakers, swimming phenom Michael Phelps who on 08/08/08 finished the Olympics with an astonishing eight gold medals in eight events. Now his face is everywhere. Phelps will do for swimming what Tiger did for golf. Look for children everywhere to throw down their barbies and baseball bats in lieu of seven irons and a pair of goggles.
Every Olympic athlete is amazing and an inspiration, but why was Phelps able to do what no other human has ever done? Simple - the man is built for swimming. His body is a temple alright, a gold one. To us he looks like a gangly awkward 22-year-old with too many teeth, but his short legs, long torso, huge feet, 4% body fat and double joints make him perfectly engineered for gliding and propelling through the water with the least resistance and greatest speed. Contemplating Phelps' physique, a friend recently posed the question, "what if all of our bodies are perfectly engineered to be great at ONE thing and we never find it?"
Well, friends, unless consuming mass quantities of dark chocolate is an Olympic event, it seems I have sadly missed my calling.
Every Olympic athlete is amazing and an inspiration, but why was Phelps able to do what no other human has ever done? Simple - the man is built for swimming. His body is a temple alright, a gold one. To us he looks like a gangly awkward 22-year-old with too many teeth, but his short legs, long torso, huge feet, 4% body fat and double joints make him perfectly engineered for gliding and propelling through the water with the least resistance and greatest speed. Contemplating Phelps' physique, a friend recently posed the question, "what if all of our bodies are perfectly engineered to be great at ONE thing and we never find it?"
Well, friends, unless consuming mass quantities of dark chocolate is an Olympic event, it seems I have sadly missed my calling.
September 22, 2008
Raednig is fnudamnetal. Sepllnig not so mcuh.
fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too. Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can.
i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh?
And I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt...
i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh?
And I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt...
September 15, 2008
September 11, 2008
Polar Bears and Women Against Palin
Many of you know how I feel about the polar bears and the disappearing arctic. Many of you also know how I feel about Sarah Palin and the disappearing of women's rights. Eve Ensler summarizes both beautifully in this article entitled "Drill, Drill, Drill."
Better Than Planned
Since I turned the ripe old age of 25, every year around my birthday I think about the past year's accomplishments and failures and reflect on where I thought I would be at that age (e.g., I thought for sure I would have a corporate gig in a high-rise in Chicago by age 25). As I am well past 25 and nowhere near corporate, things haven't exactly turned out as planned. In fact, they're better. And the reason they are better is because I have learned to embrace the unexpected, live simply, and take joy in the little things.
Not that this epiphany happened overnight, mind you. I spent a good part of my mid-20s feeling like an underachiever simply because I didn't have a corner office or a closet full of suits. I spent a lot of time and energy trying to stuff my square peg of a body in a round hole of a plan, only to end up discouraged and bewildered. Then, a couple of years ago, something amazing happened - I was dumped.
You know what it's like to be dumped, feeling heartbroken and lost as if your life is over and you'll never never happiness again. But then you emerge from the darkness to find that your life has actually just begun and that the happiness that lies ahead is far greater than you imagined. Up sprung a string of new friendships, endeavors, and possibilities of which I never before dreamed. The people that came into my life during this time I hold so dear and can't imagine my life without. They once again opened the doors to my creativity and sense of adventure, to laughter and love. You know who you are and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
So last year around my 31st birthday, I again reflected on the past year's triumphs and losses, but instead of dwelling on where I thought I "should" be, I reveled in all that I had experienced. I had cruised the Hawaiian Islands, watched the sun rise from atop a volcano, hiked through waterfalls and canyons and sailed alongside killer whales. I had biked the Golden Gate Bridge and walked the beaches of Lake Michigan in the rain. I had scanned the skyline from atop the Empire State Building, paid my respects at Ground Zero, took a zillion shots of produce at Union Street market and walked the brilliantly lit streets of Times Square. I had danced the moonwalk in a full knee brace, fired my first gun and strummed my first song on the guitar. It was a year of discovery for me but there was so much more I wanted to experience, see and do so I did what I often to - I made a list: "Things I Want to do Before I Turn 32."
Without much thought or precept, I jotted down 21 things I wanted to accomplish before August 2008. From the very silly (make out in a movie theater) to the very serious (contact my dad) to things I had no control over (fall in love), the list encapsulated my wishes, hopes and goals. I posted the list on my myspace blog and never really looked at it again until just before my birthday this year. Below is a copy of the list along with a report on my accomplishments.
1. Make out in a movie theater, in the back row, for at least 3/4 of the movie. This is the most detailed and specific item on the list and the one that started it all. Sparked by a conversation with a friend about making out in the movie theater and the realization that I had never done it (we all know how much I like my movies), I decided I needed to experience this rite of passage. And while I didn't fulfill it entirely, I can tell you that I never saw an entire movie during the months of December and January. And I'll leave it at that...
2. Ask a girl out on a date. Check! The asking took place on December 10, 2007. And, get this, she said yes even though I was lame and asked via text. Luckily she didn't hold it against me.
3. Ask a girl to dance. This one is tricky. Did I walk up to a girl and utter the words "Will you dance with me?" No. Did I ask a girl to show me her Michael Jackson moves in the middle of Buffalo Wild Wings on a Sunday night? Ah yes...
4. Learn to play the guitar and play the songs I write. Check! Ok, so I haven't picked up my guitar all summer but I know more than three chords now (at least five or six) and I did write a couple of songs, one of them even has some semblance of a melody. I also added three serenades to my repertoire including a rousing rendition of Blowing in the Wind.
5. Skydive. Not yet. But it's on the horizon...
6. Paint something worth hanging. Check! Two of my paintings will be displayed in my new apartment. One because I think it is good enough, the other because I painted it more with my heart than with my hands.
7. Complete an adventure race. This goal has been replaced with a mini triathlon at Disney World in May 2009. Now I just have to learn how to swim...
8. Contact my dad. Not yet. And in the words of Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that..."
9. Enter a photography contest. I haven't taken any action on this one but I would like to. If anyone knows of any amateur contests, please pass along the info. I have a whole slew of produce shots that are worth at least an honorable mention.
10. Take a girl on a picnic. Not exactly, but we did eat our dinner watching the sun set around our campfire while the Mackinac Bridge twinkled in the distance and fireworks spouted all around us. How's that for a close second?
11. Buy a kayak. No kayak buying is in my foreseeable future so for now I will continue to support my local liveries by renting them.
12. Buy a bike. Check! It's green. It's fast. I like it.
13. Make amends with an ex. I put this on the list because I don't like to have negative energy in my life especially when it comes to relationships - of any kind. It's a work in progress but I'm happy to say that I have found peace with the past.
14. Take my mom to see Wicked. Check! I cheated a little bit because I took her three days after my birthday but it was a delight and a treat and a day I'll never forget. "Toss, toss."
15. Learn to meditate and do it on a regular basis. Check! With the help of my yoga practice and an introduction to meditation from a friend, I have a much better grasp of the art but, in truth, I do not practice it as often as I would like. We have deemed the second bedroom as the Office/Meditation Room, however, and I was looking at pillows at World Market just yesterday. Again, it's a process.
16. Climb a real rock. By a "real rock" I was referring to climbing outside in the elements and I can safely say that this is something I will not likely pursue with gusto. I rather like the controlled environment, padded floors and pumping...uh...rock music at Planet Rock. Belay on!
17. Learn to ice skate. In progress. And kind of a requirement for playing hockey. Can't wait to get baked. Or my skates baked. Whatever!
18. Take an improv class. Not yet. Maybe I can fit it in during my copious amounts of free time this Fall in between volleyball, softball, and hockey. And writing this blog. And playing the guitar. And learning how to swim. And...
19. Go to Oregon. Sigh...still very high on the list of places I want to go, right up there with New Zealand and slightly more affordable.
20. Fall in love. Check! And here is where I could do one of two things - I could go on and on gushing about the wonderful, amazing woman in my life or I could go on and on gushing about the wonderful, amazing power of lists. I will do neither of those things now, but look for them in future posts.
21. Find a freelance copywriting gig. Ah, I knew there was a reason I started this blog...
Not that this epiphany happened overnight, mind you. I spent a good part of my mid-20s feeling like an underachiever simply because I didn't have a corner office or a closet full of suits. I spent a lot of time and energy trying to stuff my square peg of a body in a round hole of a plan, only to end up discouraged and bewildered. Then, a couple of years ago, something amazing happened - I was dumped.
You know what it's like to be dumped, feeling heartbroken and lost as if your life is over and you'll never never happiness again. But then you emerge from the darkness to find that your life has actually just begun and that the happiness that lies ahead is far greater than you imagined. Up sprung a string of new friendships, endeavors, and possibilities of which I never before dreamed. The people that came into my life during this time I hold so dear and can't imagine my life without. They once again opened the doors to my creativity and sense of adventure, to laughter and love. You know who you are and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
So last year around my 31st birthday, I again reflected on the past year's triumphs and losses, but instead of dwelling on where I thought I "should" be, I reveled in all that I had experienced. I had cruised the Hawaiian Islands, watched the sun rise from atop a volcano, hiked through waterfalls and canyons and sailed alongside killer whales. I had biked the Golden Gate Bridge and walked the beaches of Lake Michigan in the rain. I had scanned the skyline from atop the Empire State Building, paid my respects at Ground Zero, took a zillion shots of produce at Union Street market and walked the brilliantly lit streets of Times Square. I had danced the moonwalk in a full knee brace, fired my first gun and strummed my first song on the guitar. It was a year of discovery for me but there was so much more I wanted to experience, see and do so I did what I often to - I made a list: "Things I Want to do Before I Turn 32."
Without much thought or precept, I jotted down 21 things I wanted to accomplish before August 2008. From the very silly (make out in a movie theater) to the very serious (contact my dad) to things I had no control over (fall in love), the list encapsulated my wishes, hopes and goals. I posted the list on my myspace blog and never really looked at it again until just before my birthday this year. Below is a copy of the list along with a report on my accomplishments.
1. Make out in a movie theater, in the back row, for at least 3/4 of the movie. This is the most detailed and specific item on the list and the one that started it all. Sparked by a conversation with a friend about making out in the movie theater and the realization that I had never done it (we all know how much I like my movies), I decided I needed to experience this rite of passage. And while I didn't fulfill it entirely, I can tell you that I never saw an entire movie during the months of December and January. And I'll leave it at that...
2. Ask a girl out on a date. Check! The asking took place on December 10, 2007. And, get this, she said yes even though I was lame and asked via text. Luckily she didn't hold it against me.
3. Ask a girl to dance. This one is tricky. Did I walk up to a girl and utter the words "Will you dance with me?" No. Did I ask a girl to show me her Michael Jackson moves in the middle of Buffalo Wild Wings on a Sunday night? Ah yes...
4. Learn to play the guitar and play the songs I write. Check! Ok, so I haven't picked up my guitar all summer but I know more than three chords now (at least five or six) and I did write a couple of songs, one of them even has some semblance of a melody. I also added three serenades to my repertoire including a rousing rendition of Blowing in the Wind.
5. Skydive. Not yet. But it's on the horizon...
6. Paint something worth hanging. Check! Two of my paintings will be displayed in my new apartment. One because I think it is good enough, the other because I painted it more with my heart than with my hands.
7. Complete an adventure race. This goal has been replaced with a mini triathlon at Disney World in May 2009. Now I just have to learn how to swim...
8. Contact my dad. Not yet. And in the words of Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that..."
9. Enter a photography contest. I haven't taken any action on this one but I would like to. If anyone knows of any amateur contests, please pass along the info. I have a whole slew of produce shots that are worth at least an honorable mention.
10. Take a girl on a picnic. Not exactly, but we did eat our dinner watching the sun set around our campfire while the Mackinac Bridge twinkled in the distance and fireworks spouted all around us. How's that for a close second?
11. Buy a kayak. No kayak buying is in my foreseeable future so for now I will continue to support my local liveries by renting them.
12. Buy a bike. Check! It's green. It's fast. I like it.
13. Make amends with an ex. I put this on the list because I don't like to have negative energy in my life especially when it comes to relationships - of any kind. It's a work in progress but I'm happy to say that I have found peace with the past.
14. Take my mom to see Wicked. Check! I cheated a little bit because I took her three days after my birthday but it was a delight and a treat and a day I'll never forget. "Toss, toss."
15. Learn to meditate and do it on a regular basis. Check! With the help of my yoga practice and an introduction to meditation from a friend, I have a much better grasp of the art but, in truth, I do not practice it as often as I would like. We have deemed the second bedroom as the Office/Meditation Room, however, and I was looking at pillows at World Market just yesterday. Again, it's a process.
16. Climb a real rock. By a "real rock" I was referring to climbing outside in the elements and I can safely say that this is something I will not likely pursue with gusto. I rather like the controlled environment, padded floors and pumping...uh...rock music at Planet Rock. Belay on!
17. Learn to ice skate. In progress. And kind of a requirement for playing hockey. Can't wait to get baked. Or my skates baked. Whatever!
18. Take an improv class. Not yet. Maybe I can fit it in during my copious amounts of free time this Fall in between volleyball, softball, and hockey. And writing this blog. And playing the guitar. And learning how to swim. And...
19. Go to Oregon. Sigh...still very high on the list of places I want to go, right up there with New Zealand and slightly more affordable.
20. Fall in love. Check! And here is where I could do one of two things - I could go on and on gushing about the wonderful, amazing woman in my life or I could go on and on gushing about the wonderful, amazing power of lists. I will do neither of those things now, but look for them in future posts.
21. Find a freelance copywriting gig. Ah, I knew there was a reason I started this blog...
September 9, 2008
Ego Pads
If you had told me two years ago that I would take up the sport of hockey at the age of 32 I would have no doubt spewed a few expletives and laughed in your face. Well it's a good thing you didn't say that two years ago because I would owe you an apology.
I just signed up for my first hockey league. Gulp.
First, let's talk about the equipment. Helmet, helmet cage, elbow pads, shin and knee guards, chest protector, gargantuan socks, shorts with garters to keep up your gargantuan socks, padded pants, oversized gloves and ice skates. Yeah, sure it takes me an hour to get dressed, but I am impenetrable. A warrior on ice. (warriors fall a lot, right? Please say yes.)
Did I mention that hockey is played on ice? For many, growing up in Michigan is the only prerequisite needed to take up the sport of hockey. Drive through any random subdivision or lake community in the mitten state (except for the big D...not too much hockey going on at the corner of Mt. Elliot and Gratiot) and you're bound to see kids bundled up, skating around and dreaming of being the next Wayne Gretzky.
And then there's me. Convincing me to play outside in the winter is like convincing a cat to swim the English channel...a politician to tell the truth...a three-year-old to use chopsticks...you get the idea. I'll skip the frostbite and go directly to the hot chocolate, thank you very much.
So how does one play hockey when one doesn't know how to skate, you ask? There's a reason I spend an hour in the sweltering smelly locker room (for those of you who don't know, hockey is indeed the smelliest sport on record). For every piece of equipment I put on, I don a shield of courage and confidence and the assurance that while I may run into a 6'5" woman who is as broad as she is tall and the boards are there to stop me when I'm spiraling out of control, if I fall, I won't bruise anything except my ego.
I just signed up for my first hockey league. Gulp.
First, let's talk about the equipment. Helmet, helmet cage, elbow pads, shin and knee guards, chest protector, gargantuan socks, shorts with garters to keep up your gargantuan socks, padded pants, oversized gloves and ice skates. Yeah, sure it takes me an hour to get dressed, but I am impenetrable. A warrior on ice. (warriors fall a lot, right? Please say yes.)
Did I mention that hockey is played on ice? For many, growing up in Michigan is the only prerequisite needed to take up the sport of hockey. Drive through any random subdivision or lake community in the mitten state (except for the big D...not too much hockey going on at the corner of Mt. Elliot and Gratiot) and you're bound to see kids bundled up, skating around and dreaming of being the next Wayne Gretzky.
And then there's me. Convincing me to play outside in the winter is like convincing a cat to swim the English channel...a politician to tell the truth...a three-year-old to use chopsticks...you get the idea. I'll skip the frostbite and go directly to the hot chocolate, thank you very much.
So how does one play hockey when one doesn't know how to skate, you ask? There's a reason I spend an hour in the sweltering smelly locker room (for those of you who don't know, hockey is indeed the smelliest sport on record). For every piece of equipment I put on, I don a shield of courage and confidence and the assurance that while I may run into a 6'5" woman who is as broad as she is tall and the boards are there to stop me when I'm spiraling out of control, if I fall, I won't bruise anything except my ego.
September 4, 2008
In a world where... previews will never be the same.
I may be a bit antiquated in this feeling, but going to the movie theater will forever be a treat for me. Maybe it’s because I go so seldom, but the excitement never gets old. The smell of popcorn mingled with carpet. The sticky floors. The overpriced tickets. The oh-so-enthused 16-year-old ticket taker. The reclining theater seating. The latest in surround sound. And no matter what movie I see, I can always count on thrilling, entertaining and spine tingling previews. My favorite part of the whole experience is when the lights dim and the cell phones are shut off and the screen goes green with promises of PG rated previews suitable for the entire family. I tingle with anticipation upon hearing that deep powerful voice boom all around us with that well-known phrase “In a world where…”
You know that unmistakably unique voice. It’s the “move trailer guy.” That’s Don LaFontaine, who sadly, passed away on September 1, 2008. His voice never ceases to whisk me away to another world – a world of cartoons, terrorists, superheros, geeks and aliens. A world of tragedy, love, mischief and triumph. He’s the voice you hear on over 5,000 trailers including Shrek, Batman Returns, Cast Away, Good Will Hunting, Home Alone, Die Hard and Independence Day. Perhaps you took him for granted. But for me, movie previews will never be the same.
Rest in peace, Don LaFontaine… far from a world where… you will be missed.
You know that unmistakably unique voice. It’s the “move trailer guy.” That’s Don LaFontaine, who sadly, passed away on September 1, 2008. His voice never ceases to whisk me away to another world – a world of cartoons, terrorists, superheros, geeks and aliens. A world of tragedy, love, mischief and triumph. He’s the voice you hear on over 5,000 trailers including Shrek, Batman Returns, Cast Away, Good Will Hunting, Home Alone, Die Hard and Independence Day. Perhaps you took him for granted. But for me, movie previews will never be the same.
Rest in peace, Don LaFontaine… far from a world where… you will be missed.
Drum roll please.....
I'm starting a blog.
No, really, hold your applause.
Please... stop....
Thank you.
Now, as I was saying, I'm starting a blog. I have wanted to start blogging for some time now but, well, I haven't. The good news is I have tons of ideas and stories stocked up and ready to share.
So, please, sit back. Relax. Stay a while. More to come.
Peace,
Mel
No, really, hold your applause.
Please... stop....
Thank you.
Now, as I was saying, I'm starting a blog. I have wanted to start blogging for some time now but, well, I haven't. The good news is I have tons of ideas and stories stocked up and ready to share.
So, please, sit back. Relax. Stay a while. More to come.
Peace,
Mel
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