Dr. Write

In Which Injury Brings Me Closer to My True Self

2012-01-26T23:06:00.000-07:00

First, the title implies that I even have a true self (which, if we are FB friends, you now know is a manatee).
Second, yes, yes, God yes, I am a sarcastic motherfucker (also, I like to swear). So there's that.
But... but...
I have recently injured myself. Well, who knows what happened. Let's just say "Injuries occurred" and leave it at that.
So, I find myself injured AND...(and)...at the same time in a Yoga Teacher Training class (folks call that YTT). And doing yoga, and some (minimal) swimming and no (NO!) crossfit and so I am going crazeeeee (with so many e's!).
And then I went to yoga tonight, and it was fine, but also my hip hurt and I can't do Pigeon the way I like to (as in, usually?, I could, like, fall asleep in Pigeon. I LOVE pigeon). Tonight, Pigeon made me want to cry.
It is difficult, one finds, to confront one's limitations. (I've heard this. I don't really experience it firsthand...)
Also, I have not gone running in SO! LONG! It's really pitiful.
So, I find that being injured, that is, having an injury, leads one to contemplate the horizons of one's limitations and one begins to inquire as to the quality of one's existence in this compromised self and one meditates on the meaning of words like "rest" and "recovery."
What do they mean?
Apparently they mean that coffee tastes so much better with chocolate in it and that cookies are good and also wine.
Apparently they mean that when injury occurs, that is, when one is injured, one must embrace the exhale (so! yoga!) and one must try to Learn from the Injury.
So what can my injured hip teach me?
Well, so far?
BACK THE FUCK OFF
(I mean, I told you I swear a lot in the second point, way up there, so you can't act surprised now...)

Yoga Teacher Training

2012-01-10T09:13:00.001-07:00

Last night my yoga teacher training began. It's weird to be a student again, surrounded by mostly twenty-somethings who want to share their love of the healing effects of yoga. We went around in a circle and said how long we had been doing yoga, five years, two years, three years. Until it got to me. I've been doing yoga, off and on, for more than 20 years. For longer than some of those people have been alive. Crazy!
But I'm looking forward to the experience. My interest is really from a sports background, rather than feeling the spiritual effects of yoga, though of course there can be those too. Mostly I think people who do Crossfit or lift weights can benefit from a little focus on balance and flexibility, to counteract all the strength and power. I'm excited to do my "homework" which is to try new yoga classes, different teachers, etc.
And it will be interesting to try to be less cynical when the teacher talks about chakras and energy. I hope she doesn't talk about crystals...

Crossword Puzzle

2012-01-05T23:22:00.001-07:00

I've been a little bummed out lately that Son and Middlebrow share so much (a love of fantasy books, d and d, chess, they have a few TV shows they watch together), but Son and I don't have that. I read him some books, sometimes, and we like to play cards. I've tried to get him interested in running, or swimming, or tennis, to no avail.
But tonight, I was doing a crossword puzzle and he sat down next to me and wanted to help. We worked on it for awhile, then I reminded him that his grandmother bought him his own puzzle book for Christmas. So he got that and did the first puzzle while I sat next to him. He said he wanted to sit next to me because I was warm.
So I guess he's not out of my reach yet. Or too grown up to sit close to Mom.

Today's Post

2012-01-04T21:21:00.001-07:00

Well, HightouchMegaStore said she was going to post every day. Every! Day! That is daunting. But maybe I can post more this year, so there's that.
After watching an action-adventure movie which was exactly what it was supposed to be (except maybe a bit too long), I took Dog for a walk up to the Hollow.
Being with a Dog is good for remembering what it is to be alive. He leaps like a deer and runs up hills as if he were a mountain goat, which he, decidedly, is not. He also stands in the freezing stream and looks at rocks as if they were about to turn into fish or maybe birds.
He is crazy, but he is good at being alive.

Resolutions for 2012

2012-01-02T12:00:00.002-07:00

Well, I'm so full of success over accomplishing all of last year's goals (aim low!), that now I think it's a good idea to write down this year's goals/resolutions. So, here goes:

First, self-inflict no injury. As a post-40 person who likes to work out and wants to continue to work out until she dies (hopefully being crushed under a barbell), this is first. FIRST!
Yoga at least once a week (Thursdays at CCY with my yoga wife, Susan)
Run at least twice a week (Tues. morning and one weekend run)
Swim Tuesday nights (with the gays. they sure are fun to swim with)
Roll out my aching parts/stretch every day. Every day, dammit!
Eat paleo 80% of the time
Work on my pullups (10 after every workout)
Work on my freestanding handstand and handstand walk (this is fun!)
Do a triathlon in 2012
Work on a book (stories? novel? essays?)

And that's it, my pretties. Seems doable. See, I can't say things like "write every day" because then I feel bad when I don't. So "work on writing" that seems doable to me.

Favorite Books I Read in 2011

2011-12-29T09:55:00.000-07:00

I read both Great House and History of Love in 2011 and I would include them both on my favorite books of this year. I like the structure of the novels and I love her writing style. I may have liked History of Love more, though it seemed less successful in terms of how the narratives came together. But I liked the premise of it more. However I loved both novels and highly recommend them.

Another favorite book I read this year will actually not be published until 2012. But my friends at the bookstore loaned it to me. I love the way Wild weaves together the stories of Strayed's life. It is a touching memoir, but it is also entertaining. It definitely made me want to plan a big backpacking trip. Highly enjoyable.

I chose this book perhaps because I just read it. Son gave it to me for Christmas and I read the whole thing on Christmas day. It has a compelling story line and it clearly and eloquently written. A very enjoyable mystery.

I am a big fan of Hemingway, so I can't believe it took me so long to actually get to this book. I enjoyed it much more than I thought I would. It has the pacing of general musings, but the book contains may insights and classic great Hemingway lines.

I absolutely loved big parts of this book, but they basically made me want the novel to be a traditional novel that stayed with the characters I loved and not move on to other characters. That said, I still really liked this book. Well-written, moving, everything a novel should be.

Ghosts of Thanksgivings Past...

2011-11-21T15:26:00.001-07:00

When I think of Thanksgiving, I think of all the days I spent with my family and with friends who felt like and were, for all intents and purposes, my family. And I think of the lovely days spent with the family Jason and I have made. So I wanted to remember all the different Thanksgivings I can (which might not be many, given my brain)

I remember many Thanksgivings with my Mom. That's when I started making apple pie and it became a tradition, for me to make apple pie for Thanksgiving, so I've made...well, a lot of apple pies over the years. Sometime during the Bellingham years I started making the pie with maple syrup, which is So! Good! This year I'm not making an apple pie. At least not for Thanksgiving. But I will probably make one.
Since we moved to Utah, we've spent a few Thanksgivings with my Dad and his wife, usually up in Idaho. I have some cute pictures of Ross making cranberry sauce with Grandpa. I do remember being a difficult eater (vegetarian!) at a few Thanksgivings there, so I'm grateful that no one complained about me (openly to me).
My first Thanksgiving at college (U of Oregon), I went with my friend Amy to spend Thanksgiving with her family in Fresno. I remember that they were very nice. We took the train down, which I remember being very fun. I freaked out about finals on the way back, so I'm sure I was a royal pain (sorry, Amy!).
I spent many Thanksgivings in college with various friends. I remember several Thanksgivings with my friend Stephanie and her husband. I think we were all vegetarians, so I can't remember what we ate...I also remember that one year we got a potted Christmas tree and made homemade decorations, which was so fun.
One year my boyfriend and I drove up to Washington to spend it with my sister Lisa and her husband, who was in the Navy. I had almost forgotten about that. It was a long drive, but it was fun and I remember that Lisa made those potato rolls!
What about all those years in Seattle? I really don't remember. I do recall spending one Thanksgiving with my boyfriend's sister and her husband and some other people. I remember the food was good.
One of the most memorable Thanksgivings in Bellingham was the one I spent with Alison and Jen and Mark. Jen made the most delicious salmon, and I made pie, of course, and we drank lots of wine. We had bread from the bakery! Then I remember running down the street with someone's dog. And we had delicious coffee after. I truly felt like I was at home that year, exactly where I wanted to be.
Another memorable Thanksgiving in Bellingham was spent with Christina and Devon, and Christina's sister and my friend Steve. We made salmon wrapped in romaine leaves (so good!), and I think I made pie. I was supposed to go do a shift at KUGS, but I was too drunk (I think. Or that was just the excuse I used). So bad! I think that was 1997. I'm not sure, but this may have been the same Thanksgiving that Tommy tackled me during a friendly game of touch football. I'm pretty sure the team made up of Devon, Christina, and her sister won.
Why can I not remember every Thanksgiving specifically?
We spent many warm Thanksgivings in the little breakfast nook in the house we just moved out of. It was cozy. Jane came over once or twice. It was here that I started the soup and salad on Thanksgiving Eve tradition. It was there I first tried the constant basting Martha Stewart thing which, I will note, I am not doing this year.
I'm trying to remember Thanksgivings at the first house in Salt Lake City, but I can't remember any specifically. I do remember cooking a turkey breast, but I think that was for Easter.
Last year we went to Suzanne & Michael's, which we are doing again this year. That is a good tradition, one I hope we will continue. It is always nice to have dinner with people who are also super into food and, more importantly, wine.

That Time of Year

2011-11-10T12:43:00.001-07:00

Yes, very high brow. I take my title today from Shakespeare. But not for any real reason. Not because my message today has to do with death and dying or even the dying of the light. But, of course, it does. This poem is in my mind or, at least, the first two lines. I love the hesitation of "When yellow leaves, or few, or none, do hang." I love the commas, maybe there are some leaves, maybe none. You know, fall. Perhaps it is my impending birthday (43!!) perhaps the fact that I have been reading Gilead and also "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."
Perhaps it is just that literature, in general, is obsessed with death and dying. Perhaps because I have been working on a story that is about death and grief. Why? Why would I choose such a dark subject? Well, I have to say it chose me, the voice, the subject. It's the only time I've ever cried while writing fiction. Am I crazy?
But really when I say "That Time of Year" what I mean is that we all, all of us, students, teachers, parents, children, drivers, passengers, walkers, runners, all of us are TIRED. We just want it to end. "IT" is various things: school, this day, this week, this hour, this semester, this round of grading, this session, this conversation, this writing assignment, this, this, IT.
I should also note, with sadness, that fall is about the earth, plants, many things, dying. The light also. And a colleague passed away last week. So perhaps this post is about death after all.
And I'll end with this: "Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

I'm Grateful!

2011-10-16T18:38:00.000-07:00

A very old truck at Rio Mesa

It's October. Actually, it's been October for awhile. Somehow, not very painfully, I convinced myself to do this challenge that my sister is doing. It involves a few things: 100 sit ups and 50 push ups per day; 100 mile in the month (run, bike, etc.); try two new fruits and two new vegetables; keep a gratitude journal. I've not been 100% successful on any one thing, though I have been good at keeping my gratitude journal.
In general, I frown on such displays of sentimentality, but I must admit it's been good for me. It's caused me to pause and consider what I've been doing, which I think, in turn, has caused me to be more grateful in the moment. I like to think feeling gratitude has also caused me to pause, mid-stride, to appreciate the world more as I'm experiencing it, rather than waiting until the end of the day.
And so, I'd like to share some of the things I'm grateful for. With pictures.

Laughter. We laughed so much at Rio Mesa. Thereis just a general giggliness around women; something in it conjures up juniorhigh, when to laugh was the easiest thing we could do. Sylvia’s stories abouther childhood in the tent; Nicole’s general good humor

What is grateful about a Monday? The endness.

Sleep. Often, it is needed.

Fall weather: I love it when the leaves changeand the air is crisp, but yet the afternoon can still be sunny and warm.

Soup! This one does not need explaining.

Trees: they give us oxygen and also when theirleaves change: damn! Gorgeous!

And so, friends, in conclusion, I am grateful and I am chronicling my gratefulness each day. Oprah and I recommend it.

Hey Girl,

2011-10-13T20:02:00.003-07:00

I cannot let this go unremarked. Firstly, he's hot. Second, Derrida? The genuis behind this clearly has too much education and maybe a little thing for Ryan Gosling. Sound like anyone we know?
You should also check out this, which is funny, but not quite as.
I hope you are enjoying this fall break and accept this gem as a token of my esteem.

The Things They Cathedraled: Redux

2011-10-10T19:51:00.001-07:00

In my mind, a mash up of Tim O'Brien and Raymond Carver due to my students'....shall we say turbid prose? But also, I want to say torpid. In any case, it's a mess in there (my brain) and I blame students.

How did the blind man carry a rucksack full of mosquito repellent? How did Ted Lavender draw a cathedral with no pencils? Why did they all smoke so much pot? And is it easier to see the cathedral if you shut your eyes? There's your moral.

In a few days time, she wrote, it would be fall break. And then there would be sparkling wine,and cocktails. All the comforts afforded those who could purchase them. But first there would be midterms to grade, and then a few more papers, and a test to write. Then after that, she would make a sweet potato cake, as consistent with the season, and perhaps there would be mulled wine, with cinnamon and little cloves and also some orange. And then there might be coffee, some with whiskey and certainly there would be red wine, for it came in bottles and she knew where to get those.

So in the coming days, there would be comfort, but for now it was a motherfucking cathedral war inside her brain which was, admittedly, small.

I'm not Dead!!

2011-10-08T15:36:00.001-07:00

I'm alive, although just barely.
I have spent this alternatively cloudy/sunny day inside doing such things as: grading, making tacos, taking a bath, drinking a ginger tea/whiskey/lemon/honey concoction, surfing the interwebs, etc. Now I am trying to collect myself into a semblance of what one might call a "person" so I can go out into the world and interact with others. It's touch and go at this point...
and I have more grading to do...

It's not that I've been BUSY...

2011-09-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

It's just that I moved (meaning packing, loading, unloading, unpacking) and then school started. Also, who doesn't have towel racks, nary a one, in a house? So husband has been installing towel racks while I look on approvingly. Also we had a gate built, which involved no actual work on my part, but also some approving-looking, and some fetching of ice water, which really was the least I could do. Also, moving, it turns out, requires that one download all kinds of owner's manuals for things one is now the owner of and has not previously seen before, that is, an air conditioner and a sprinkler system.
While we are on the topic of stupid things the previous owners did (that was the topic, right?), who sets the sprinkler system for half-an-hour per day? Every bloody day? People who like to water their grass, I'm supposing. I read the owner's manual, but it didn't take (because I don't understand why one would need three different watering plans for four stations, see, it's like algebra!!), so I'm going to let Husband field that one, along with installing just one or two more towel racks.
I think, perhaps, there are some boxes I have not yet peered into, because their depths hold those items I have deemed not necessary to my daily survival, yet. But soon the day will come when I actually need a sweater, and then I'll have to go looking for it (the way I was looking for blankets last night at 11 pm).
Did I mention my new house is awesome and has a kitchen that I could twirl in? Well, I could. It also has windows and a cute little table. I already made bread, for god's sake, but mostly that was because I had some blueberries that were just about to go bad.

I'm a Lover, Not a Hater

2011-07-08T17:45:00.000-07:00

I am famous, or is it infamous?, for not liking things simply because other people like them, perhaps too much. This applies to, maybe, Rolling Stone magazine, U2 during a certain era (because I liked them before!! before you people even knew about them!!), Brad Pitt, ice cream, running skirts, Pilates. Oh, you know. The list could go on.
No where, (no where!) is this behavior more heinous than in Reading and Book Recommendations. If a book hits the best seller list or if everyone's book club happens to be reading it, well, that's a guarantee that I will sneer when I see it, will dismiss it out of hand, will began to hate it without having read a word of it. I am most famous for hating Memoirs of a Geisha, so much so that I had to read it so that I could then defend my dislike of it (which persisted even after I read it!).
Books I still have not read because other people liked them to much: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius (or maybe it's the title?); The Secret Life of Bees; Life of Pi; Everything is Illuminated; Special Topics in Calamity Physics (to my credit, I tried to read this one. And I hated it. Also, I hated the aknowledgements where she thanked her nanny for watching her two children while she closed herself into her office and wrote for 9 hours a day. Now why would I hate that?)
But....BUT....
I resisted reading The Help. Everyone LOVED IT!!! IT WAS SO GOOD!!!
See, when someone tells me that, I think, it can't possibly live up to the hype and I don't want to read it, because I hate being disappointed. Almost as much as that, I hate the conversation where someone asks me if I've read a book they love and I exclaim (because I cannot help myself), "Oh! I hated that book!" And then this book lover looks at me as if I have just stated that I hate freedom, and puppies, and apple pie (for the record, I love apple pie). (See also: my reaction to "Forrest Gump." You can imagine, right?)
So I resisted reading The Help because I didn't want to hate it. But then I saw the trailer. And I love Emma Stone (hello? Easy A?). And then, because I wanted to see the movie, I have to read the book. It's some weird compulsion. So I got the book from the library and I started reading it and now I want to read it all the time and I really like it and it is so good.
So I promise, from here on out, to be, perhaps, maybe, a bit more open to liking books that, you know, everyone else likes too.

I Can't Possibly Rank My Favorite Female Comedians

2011-06-29T15:49:00.004-07:00

So here they are, in no order, but a list nonetheless.

Since this whole notion was brought on by my recent viewing of "Bridesmaids" (why did I wait so long to see it? Why? I could have seen it, like, 10 times by now!): Kristen Wiig. So many favorite clips to choose from. But this one was a favorite for a long time. For awhile, Son would say, "Did somebody say baby?"
Tina Fey: Okay, this one is obvious. It's difficult to pick just one reason why she's so amazing. But this clip from SNL shows it all. She's a great writer & just funny. Also, why hasn't she made more movies with
Amy Poehler: Doesn't get enough credit for how crazy funny she is. But this HIGH-larious clip shows her stuff. Also, Parks & Recreation is rapidly becoming my favorite show.
Maria Bamford: She's not just on Target commercials, oh no, she also refers to Target in some of her jokes. But, just watch for yourself. This is one of her jokes.
Rachel Feinstein
Melissa McCarthy (I can't find any comedy clips). But she is SO FUNNY!
If we're going old school: Jane Curtain, Gilda Radner, Madeline Kahn.

There are others. I just can't remember their names.

Who have I (inadvertently) left out?

Julia Child's Boeuf Bourguignon for Real People

2011-06-17T21:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, I like French cuisine just as much as the next gal (actually, a little less), but seriously, Julia Childs? Really?
Here is my interpretation of what Julia tells us we should do. Obviously we have to remember that this cookbook was written when women who would make this kind of thing were NOT working and also probably only made it for some kind of big dinner party (or wine club, like me). But even so, the four plus hours this took....might have been worth it, because I'm only doing it once? Maybe.

A 6 ounce chunk of bacon: what is 6 ounces? Can't things just come in fractions of pounds? I mean, 8th grade was SO long ago. But, this did give me the chance to go to Tony Caputos and visit the extremely handsome men who work there and say intelligent things like: Do you have the kind of bacon that comes in chunks? Can I have some? You're cute.
Cut bacon into "lardons." Okay, Julia, I get it. You're "French." But what the fuck is a "lardon"? And if you have to say, (parenthetically) that it's a stick, can't you just say stick in the first fucking place? I mean, can't you?
"Simmer rind and bacon for 10 minutes in 1 1/2 quarts of water." Why boil bacon in water? I'm sure there's a good reason, but can't you tell me what it is?
Why does my casserole dish have to be enameled and fireproof? Am I in danger of catching something on fire? What? A dish?
How many dishes do I need? Why so much with the "remove to a side dish"? Have you seen the extremely petite kitchen in which I am working? Julia Child, have you seen my kitchen?
3 lbs. lean stewing beef cut into 2 inch cubes. I get the whole cubing thing, I really do, but you know what? I have no idea what an inch is. Here's what I do: hold up my finger and go, how much of this is an inch? And then I use that as a guide. But Julia Child probably had huge hands, like, Shaquille O'Neal hands, so she couldn't just say, half a pinkie, because, you know, of her fucking huge hands.
"Dry the beef in paper towels; it will not brown if it is damp." This is what we call Spa for Beef. Seriously? Dry it? Like, get out a towel and pat it down? Oh Julia, what would Freud say?
So you're browning the beef and the bacon and then taking it out of the pan and then putting it back in the pan and then putting all that in the oven and then taking it out and turning the oven down. Woosh! Who needs a drink?
"Stir in the wine." About time! Now I can really get behind French cuisine that calls for 3 cups of wine, which leaves some left over for you know who. Yeah, me.
So you stir all this stuff in and then put it in the oven for 2 to 3 hours. Okay! Finally, a break! I can sit and drink my "leftover wine" and do something else for a few minutes. What? There are two other recipes embedded in this recipe? Fuck!
Brown-braised onions: I'm not sure who invented these tiny little onions that need to be skinned and treated as if they, too, deserve a day at the spa (hot tubbing in beef stock & herbs which have to be wrapped in tiny blankets, i.e. cheesecloth), but I'm pretty sure it was the devil. By the way, this is one of those whole other recipes embedded in this recipe, but you don't know it until you are halfway down the page.
Sauteed mushrooms: yeah, that sounds easy, but first you have to clean them, and then they, too, need to be treated with kid gloves, which means you can't "crowd" them in the pan, or else then they feel like they are on the subway in Paris and then, you know, they get mad.
Okay, here's the fun part: "pour the contents of the casserole into a sieve set over a saucepan. Wash out the casserole and return the beef and bacon to it." In layman's terms what this means is that you dump the entire contents of the casserole (beef, bacon, carrots, onions, sauce) out, and then, in my terms, paw through the mushy carrots and onions to find the bits of beef and bacon (gold!). Try not to burn your hands. Don't swear, the kids will hear. Don't put your finger in your mouth (gross!), but get every bit of beef. Did you?
Also, who washes a pan and then puts the shit back in there? I wiped the gross bits off the top and then put the meat back in. Julia Child must have had a maid to do that part.
Then there's this whole bit about skimming fat off the top, which I did, for awhile, and then I was like, Done! And I just poured the sauce over the meat and put the top on.
Then I looked at the clock and I was all, when is wine club? Because I need a drink of wine, stat.
I told my wine compatriots not to tell me if it wasn't the most delicious thing ever. And they didn't.
(Actually, it was damn good. Julia sure knows her shit, but I'm not sure I'll be delving into that experience again soon.)

What HAVE I been doing?

2011-06-10T11:39:00.001-07:00

Every day feels packed with activity, but when I look back and reflect on what I have done the past month....umm.....what?

Plus Hightouch blogs the list with such linguistic proficiency, I thought I'd just do the list, because you know, it's a list.

1. So I guess I've been working on a novel, off and on, for almost 2 months and I haven't yet reached the 50,000 word mark, but, hey, I'm giving myself...more time.

2. We went to Boulder, Utah for the long weekend (remember that long weekend?). We stayed at Boulder Mountain Ranch (highly recommended), went to our favorite coffee place (Kiva Koffeehouse), saw some slot canyons (I'm too much of a baby (claustrophobic) to actually go in them, but most others did), ate some bacon, went to an architect's cool house & had ribs (yum!!), did a hike, then drove home in a rain/hail storm (what?!).

3. Reading: a disappointing Icelandic mystery (not by my beloved), a few good books (Rae's new book; I Think I Love You; Ross MacDonald; Box of Matches); the newspaper, etc.

4. Eating and Drinking: I like wine and I think summer is made for drinking.

5. Started an eating/exercising challenge: because I thought I needed to start drinking less and doing other things more, like taking daily walks, stretching, and making sure I ate enough. So far, mixed results. I probably do drink less, over all, but on a few days I still drank a lot (I blame my wine friends), and I can never quite eat the right amount of blocks (Zone alert!). But, I have been pretty active and I am stretching...more.

6. Started running again: two runs. That's a start.

7. Had my body fat tested. Ask me what my body fat percentage is. Go ahead, ask me.

8. Crossfit. This goes without saying.

9. Submitted one essay to one place. Again, it's a start.

10. Hey, I finally organized the Crossfit Women Trainers get together. That's something.

11. I did some (very little!) yard work.

12. I've cleaned my house a gajillion times for people who want to come look at our house, which is for sale.

13. Finally trying to do some personal maintenance: brows. Today a haircut, tomorrow a pedicure. Progress!

14. Swimming: once, but still.

15. Independent study with 3 students: this is only one hour a week, but still, somehow, it feels like more.

16. Staring into space: I'm good at this.

17. Ushering Son through his last days of school: this seems like it would be easy, but involved a lot more driving around than expected.

18. Baseball: Son has like 12 games a week (exaggeration!) plus practice, so I have to sit and talk to my friends while he makes excellent plays at first (go Son!), which is, you know, super taxing.

19. Cooking things that really take no cooking: like carrot sticks and tuna.

20. I saw a movie!

21. I told Son he could have a sleepover, so now I'm preparing for that: buying lots of vodka for self-medication.

Chick Lit: What is it?

2011-05-18T13:40:00.000-07:00

I know use of the term "chick lit" can cause people to have instant hernias or it can make them feel like they want to scream or have a cocktail. But I am thinking about this term today because I recently read I Think I Love You by Alison Pearson and then yesterday I saw "Something Borrowed" which is based on a book by Emily Giffin.
Both of these books take on relationships between women as their central themes, although they both follow the traditional Romantic Comedy formula: girls love boys, or the same boy, and this affects or might affect their friendship, obstacles are overcome, the girls each end up with the boy they should end up with, sometimes causing the disastrous ruin of their friendship. One of the important sub-themes of Romantic Comedies, however, is the hurtful way some women treat other women.
The formula of Romantic Comedy necessitates a reliance on stereotype: women love to shop! blonde women are fun and bitchy, not troubled by intellectualism! brunettes are brainy and compassionate! the best male friend is also intellectual and cute in a geeky way and he's in love with the nice girl! But she doesn't love him! I could go on...but I know you all understand.
Now after watching the movie "Something Borrowed" which was definitely the standard formulaic Romantic Comedy, and having read I Think I Love You over the weekend, I start to wonder whether Romantic Comedy and Chick Lit are the same categories, basically, and whether Chick Lit can ever be more than the formulaic women centered fiction we think of, or would it be possible for a woman to write a book that is considered Chick Lit that fundamentally changes the definition of Chick Lit, or if a book defies that narrow formula it's just not considered Chick Lit.
I know this is not a new discussion, but I was bothered by a few things in "Something Borrowed." One is the notion that getting married means choosing between your female best friend and your male soul mate. It seems, in this configuration, you can't have it both ways. Obviously this is not realistic, but I wonder why so many Chick Lit novels set this up as a fundamental conflict.
The second question is why, when a novel has an important relationship at its core, is this novel automatically deemed less important or weighty than a novel that takes on some other kind of issue?
No, these questions might never be answered, but I guess this is what is on my mind.

Sometime Someone Says

2011-05-11T20:12:00.000-07:00

Sometime Someone Says

something about creation arising
out of destruction
out of the end of one
thing another
thing sometimes arises

and i was thinking of this
as i took a sledge-
hammer to a story and
then it became some
thing
else

it became a
truth

Weekend Watching

2011-04-04T12:57:00.000-07:00

Two pretty cool movies that were good, as you can imagine, for totally different reasons.

I don't want you think I'm not Reading....

2011-03-28T20:58:00.000-07:00

Because I am. Maybe too much, because I'm not finishing anything. Well, here's what I'm reading right now.

And of course, still, Bleak House. Oh, The Dickens.

What Children Make Possible

2011-03-21T08:41:00.002-07:00

I have a guest blog up over at my friend Rae's blog.
You can read it here.

Quiet Americans by Erica Dreifus

2011-03-03T17:06:00.000-07:00

What I love about short story collections is also what can put me off: the coherence of the stories. So it is refreshing when the stories in a collection hang together in a way that each story complements or adds to the others, and yet still brings something fresh to the mix. Some people might call this unevenness in a collection, but I think unevenness occurs when some stories aren’t up to the craft or storytelling of the others. I actually don’t like story collections where the stories are overly-thematically linked, or where I feel the stories hit the same note again and again.

The Quiet Americans includes stories in different styles, with various narrative approaches and most of the stories reach a consistently high level of craft and storytelling. The first story in the collection “For Services Rendered,” set a tone that would not have been welcome if it had been maintained for the entire book. Luckily, the second story, “Matrilineal Descent,” employed a different structure and voice. The jump between the two modeled the leaps that occur throughout the book. While the book overall presents some coherent themes relating to the Holocaust, family, survival, and secrecy, different stories deal pick up various strands, some themes disappear only to be picked up a few stories later. The different stories and themes accumulate to evoke emotions and ideas that resonate together without becoming overbearing.

“For Services Rendered,” which starts the book, begins with a Jewish doctor in Berlin, then follows the doctor and his family to the United States. I understand why this story starts the book. The book begins in Germany and moves to the United States, just as the stories demonstrate the shift from the effects on one generation to how those effects filter down through generations. But I really loved the next story, “Matrilineal Descent,” and one reason might be because the voice shifts so radically, from a more distant, observing third-person to a third-person that is really a first-person with very specific views about the story. The voice of this story fantastically weaves opinionated asides into a story that is told almost like a fairy tale. I was glad that later stories dealt with characters who were part of this family, and I found myself wishing that there would be even more stories, continuing the lives of these characters. Perhaps there is a novel in there, waiting to be finished.

Overall, this collection won me over slowly, story by story. I was a bit worried that the stories might focus too exclusively on the generation who survived World War II and the Holocaust, but what I ultimately enjoyed about these stories was the ways in which they traced the influence of that generation on each successive generation, not just through genealogy, but through omission and exclusion as well. The stories connect to one another in meaningful and sometimes surprising ways, illuminating the silences and secrets in our dark pasts.

Things missing from my house

2011-02-06T20:03:00.000-07:00

That nice lady. You know, the one who comes and brings you clean towels and empties the trash and changes the sheets. You know, the one who does, basically, all the things you don't want to do.
Loads and loads of people. Most of whom you don't know.
Lots of books. I have a lot of books, but they would fit in like, 10 boxes. They would not, for example, fill up those many rooms in the basement or maybe not the basement of the Marriott.
That sweater. That I lost one night and found the next day, right where I lost it. And then I lost it again. And didn't find it. (Maybe it's with Nicole's hat? In the AWP museum of lost things? Because it was in DC and apparently, there? There's a museum for everything.)
Hightouchmegastore. And that's sad, because she's a good roommate. But she's a little sick and she probably missed The Historian and also her child/ren. But if she wanted to, I would let her live in my cold basement.
Any sense that tomorrow is Monday and therefore a work day, that is, a day on work must be done. Because, basically I sat around all day feeling tired, doing laundry, and letting the interwebs eat what is left of my brain.
Terrance Hayes. He, also, could live in my basement. Or wherever.
Sleep. But it will not elude me for long.
Tapas. I ate at the most excellent tapas bar in DC. I want the tapas people to be my live-in personal chefs.
Absurdistan. I heard Gary Shteyngart read on Saturday night and he's like, totally fucking hilarious and I thought, oh, Middlebrow read that book and loved it, I'll read it when I get home. But he gave it to his BFF because, apparently, if MB likes a book and you don't jump on it immediately slathering like a hungry daschund, then he sulks and is all like, you don't like what I like, and then he gives the thing he likes away so that, eventually, when you decide you do like it, he can be all like, oh, I said you would like it, but no, you didn't take my word for it, you had to talk to Shteyngart himself and then you're all, oh, he's funny, give me the book. So, in other words, I'm going to have to get my own copy.

Review: Forgetting English by Midge Raymond

2011-01-27T18:24:00.002-07:00

The eight stories in this slim collection revolve around the theme of displacement. The sense of alienation underlying all these stories is literal; all the main characters are away from home, usually in a foreign country. But the sense of alienation becomes metaphorical because the women in these stories are emotionally wounded, alienated from their former lives and from themselves. Each has experienced an unsettling emotional situation that causes her to flee from home. Most of the stories begin well after a heartbreak of one kind or another, a husband’s affair, a lost job, the end of a romance.

Forgetting English refers to the characters presence in non-English speaking countries, namely Tonga, Africa, China. The title is interesting also because most of the protagonists seem unable to forget their troubled pasts, they are unable to “get on with their lives,” as a self-help book consulted by the narrator of “Rest of World” instructs.

The endings of the stories do not provide easy epiphanies or even the hard won insights of suffering. Many of the stories end with a single image that reflects the protagonist’s emotional state; The image of a female penguin mourning the loss of her chick in “The Ecstatic Cry,” or the memory of touching the cold face of a stone figure in “Translation Memory.” Only “Never Turn Your Back on the Ocean” ends on a positive note, the narrator following the sound of a man’s voice in the dark.

Together these stories express a deep longing for connection among characters who have somehow become estranged from themselves and others. The overall tone is one of melancholy and reflection. I prefer short collections of short stories, because, like the stories themselves, they can be read in a shorter space of time, the effects of each story accumulating into one complex experience. This collection is emotionally and stylistically consistent, and the events of these stories accrued to create the sense of a weary traveler who wants to return home, only she doesn’t know where that is.
You can purchase the novel here.

Currently Reading

2011-01-20T12:08:00.000-07:00

1. Correction of Drift by Pamela Ryder (FC2)
2. The Possessed (Actually, Jason is reading this, but I picked it up and it's good)
3. Bleak House, Bleak House, Forever Bleak House (loving it!)
4. The Private Patient (not really. I need to go pick it up from the library. Then I will be reading it.)

We Need to Talk About Kevin Review

2011-01-13T19:22:00.000-07:00

I just finished We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver and my timing couldn't be more canny. Or is it uncanny? In any case, as I surfed the internet this weekend for news and updates about the shootings in Arizona, my fictional mind was entrenched in this story about a high school shooting and the fallout for the family. Narrated by the mother of the school shooter, Kevin, the novel is a series of letters to her husband, Franklin. The letters allow her to investigate her own role in Kevin’s crime. The novel is, from the outset, an interrogation of our culture’s tendency to blame the mother, but the novel doesn't let her off easy. She is telling the story from her own limited perspective and so she is, by definition, unreliable. But she also doesn't let herself off easy, continually questioning how she might have mothered differently.

The novel is incredibly well-written and compelling. The style is neither overwhelming nor flat. The narrator has a tendency to be strident, but her tone and language are consistent with her position in the novel. Overall, I found the novel interesting.

Did I like it? As a writer, I admire it. Shriver embraces the ambiguity and she doesn’t let her narrator, or her readers, off the hook. Every mother will find at least one small thing to identify with in this novel, and that identification will be horrifying. As a mother, I couldn’t help but study myself and my child’s behavior a little more closely as I read this novel.

As a reader, I’m not sure I would recommend it to another reader. It is not enjoyable or pleasurable or entertaining. Reading this book was like living in the world since the shootings on Saturday. While reading this book, you can’t pretend that bad things don’t happen; in fact, you have to confront that reality. And, what’s more, you have to live the reality of bad things, without any of the good things to offer needed relief.

I can, however, recommend two other Lionel Shriver novels: The Post-Birthday World and The Female of the Species. The Post-Birthday World is the more lighthearted of the two. The novel begins on a significant birthday and takes as its departure a kiss. Two narrative paths take off from this moment: one in which the main character goes home to her boyfriend, who never knows; and a second narrative, in which she leaves her boyfriend and begins a new life with the man she kissed on her birthday.

The Female of the Species focuses on the later life of a famous anthropologist. Narrated by her longtime assistant, it follows her as she returns to the site of her first big discovery, and then as she falls in love with a much younger man.

All of Shriver’s novels are well-written. I never found her style overdone or distracting, though she is given to Britishisms, even when her characters are American. She tends to gravitate to the darker side of life, and ambiguity. The stories she creates are compelling. I plan on reading her latest novel, So Much for That, soon. But right now I need a break. Time to go watch some TV.

Short Story Collections by Women

2011-01-13T14:46:00.000-07:00

In 2011, I want to read more books by women actually published in 2011. I'm forever trying to catch up and, like many things in my life, it just ain't going to happen. So, instead of trying to catch up (which I'm still going to try to do anyway, knowing I will fail), I'm going to try to read a lot of books published in 2011.
Dear readers, will you help me? Please recommend books that were published in 2010 or are about to be published in 2011. By women. I am going to begin by focusing on short story collections, but I will expand that.
I love to read, and I have strong opinions, so I decided I'm going to post reviews here regularly, along with continued commentary about my life in general.
Watch this space for a Lionel Shriver recap, coming soon.

Why I Cry or Get Weepy: One Mother's Explanation

2011-01-10T18:26:00.000-07:00

There are many reasons why one (i.e. Me), might become weepy or cry, sob even, for no apparent reasons. But, lo, there are reasons. Let me walk you through them.

Bad things have happened.
Bad things have happened that involve children.
Bad things have happened and the reasons for these things are so complex that I feel overwhelmed, because I don't even know which one to feel bad about first.
Bad things have happened and the people who suffer as a result are so widespread and the reasons for their suffering are so complex that I don't know who to sympathize with and so I sympathize with all of them.
I become afraid the bad things that have happened elsewhere might also happen here.
I become afraid that the Reasons Given for the happening of bad things might overlap with things I have done or thought, and thus that I, inadvertently, might cause bad things to happen.
I sympathize with the people who also may have contributed to or have failed to stop the bad things from happening.
I sympathize with the people who do bad things.
I look around me & I despair.
I look around me & feel grateful.

What's It All About?

2010-12-31T09:51:00.000-07:00

At the end of the year, several things happen to me.

I feel bad about all the writing projects I didn't finish, start or work on in the year that is coming rapidly to a close, like a slamming door.
I vow to scale back on my ambitions for the coming year.
I think about what really has stuck with me from the past year.
I do some crazy, unplanned cleaning projects that make me feel like I've accomplished something, however small.
I do some last minute writing, as if writing 500 words can make a difference in the unfinished novel/article/nonfiction book that I haven't been working on.
I make some crazy plans to do stuff on New Year's Eve/New Year's Day that I think will set a good precedent for the coming year. To whit:

not drink too much
go to bed early, in order to get a good night's sleep
get up early and write
spend the day doing something that is indicative of the coming year. In this case, I'll be attending and judging at a Crossfit competition

Unlike many of my friends, I resolve to eschew resolutions. I will not be giving up my much needed morning coffee with half-and-half. But here are some things I'm going to think about, because they seem like things I can do:

Swear more
Eat a lot of meat
Drink a lot of coffee
Write, just a little bit?
Do a lot of Crossfit
Help at least one person become more fit in 2011

Oh yes, that title. What's it all about, people? It's about people. It's about quality of life. It's about community. That's why, each year when I regard my writing accomplishments with dismay, I like to remind myself that I worked out a lot, that I hung out with my peeps and drank coffee, that I hugged some people, that I had some awesome wine with my Wine Club, that I had some great tea & conversation with my Book Club, that I played a lot of games with my Family, and that, if I died tomorrow, I wouldn't die feeling like the people I love don't know how much I love them. And that, my friends, is what it's all about.

Here's to more wine, tea, coffee and conversation in 2011!

Some Favorites of the Year

2010-12-28T20:16:00.002-07:00

Cocktail: The Old Fashioned. Between my lovely, lovely trip to Appleton, Wisconsin & MB's new cocktail book (and let's not forget expensive cherries), this has got to be the best discovery of 2010
Wine: sparkling. Love all things sparkly & bubbly. Yeah!
Thing to eat: Sea Salt chocolate
Trilogy: The Hunger Games. Gave me some small faith in YA fiction and female protagonists.
Mystery: Hypothermia. I may never get over my love affair with Arnaldur Indridason.
Novel: The Anthologist. This was a tough choice. I think I had to choose this one because it was such a nice, quiet book. Not over written, not announcing its greatness, but great nonetheless.
Non-fiction book: Heft on Wheels. Inspiring book about how a man gets obsessive about biking and loses a lot of weight.
Newly Discovered TV Show: Bored to Death. Jason Schwartzman and Zach Galafianakis. Need I say more?
Most disappointing new season of show I loved: Californication, Season 3. I mean, I still love DD, but they weren't sure what to do with the story line this season....sad.
Movie watched on Netflix: I've Loved You So Long. I loved this movie, mostly because it was so beautiful and slow and it conveyed so much by letting silence just stand, which most American movies don't do. Plus I think I have a long-standing crush on Kristin Scott Thomas (dating back to "The English Patient").
2010 Movie: The Kids are Alright. It's the duo of Mark Ruffalo & Julianne Moore that put this movie over the top for me. Everyone is good in this.
Best Documentary: Man on Wire
Favorite TV Show (that I actually watch on TV): tie between "Glee" and "Modern Family"
Favorite new activity: teaching the body-weight exercise class at Studio Azul. I make them suffer & they like me. What else does a woman need?

What We Drank

2010-12-26T12:45:00.000-07:00

Christmas Caipirinhas (lime, ginger, rum, ginger ale)
Spanish Red
Gruet Sparkling Wine
Claret
Ridge Zinfandel
Cote du Rhone
Old Fashioned: blood orange, lemon, expensive maraschino cherries, Maker's Mark
Shot in the Dark: lemon juice, simple syrup, rum (shake!), ginger ale, dark rum floated on top, raw sugar around the rim of the glass (soooooooooooooooooo delicious)

Obviously this was not all in one night, but over the last few days. Last night we did have quite a few cocktails (Old Fashioneds & Shots in the Dark, multiples).

Also, the best thing ever is projecting movies on to the white wall of our living room. We've watched "The Sting" and "Paper Moon." I'm hoping we can watch something else tonight. It's like an in-house movie theater and it rocks. The only drawback is that we have to move our couch to enjoy it.

Weekend Consumption Log

2010-12-12T20:11:00.000-07:00

Friday:

Sushi at Yellowfin, with a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale
Fancy vodka drink & a glass of red wine, pommes frite & some chicken pot pie at The Metropolitan
Ice cream at the Jazz game
Tea with whiskey at home

Saturday:

Butternut Squash Soup with Cinnamon Crema (oh! my! god!) and Spicy Beef Salad at Chow Truck
Cava at the Monaco wine tasting, Prosseco in E & K's room after
Tapas & Sangria at Martine: trout with lentils, duck!, Spanish tortilla, something with chorizo, lamb; then a glass of Rioja; chocolate decadence & grilled gringerbread & porto
A drink in The Vault at Bambara: Old Fashioned & some calamari & shrimp
The rest of the Prosseco in E & K's room

Sunday:

Free coffee in the lobby of the Monaco
Brunch at Bambara: tomato & roasted pepper omelette, fresh orange juice, complimentary fruit plate
Curry Chicken Soup (I made): chicken, coconut milk, ginger, sweet potatoes, carrots, rice noodles
Pear-Apple-Berry Crisp (I made): delicious! Turns out pears are a delicious addition to any crisp!

It's always gratifying to return home after a long stint of good eating out and to remind oneself that one can, when pressed, make a good soup based loosely on a recipe and top it off with a crisp made from the over ripe fruit at hand. All in all, a successful culinary weekend.

The Beauty of Getting Older

2010-12-11T11:07:00.000-07:00

...is that you appreciate things so much more.
Such as:

my amazing husband (who else would have married me?)
friends you have known for a long time
friends with whom you have many things in common
the laughter of Son (and his sense of humor in general)
delicious drinks, like Jack Frost, The Metropolitan, and White Sangria
the amazing shoulders of Dwight Howard, seriously, check this dude out
friends who will take your crazy son for the night so you can, briefly, pretend to be an Adult
being so much stronger this year than last
being able to afford to go out for fancy drinks & a fancy dinner (at least a few times a year)
wine
mountains
my very expensive Victoria's Secret bra (I saw a dude checking me out at the game last night. It's so the bra!)

She Will Discuss Bacon with No Man

2010-12-05T20:32:00.000-07:00

Back when I was young, in my twenties, I had a mild flirtation going on with my best friend from junior high's brother. At the time, I was involved in a relationship with a guy who was way more into me than I was into him and I wasn't super attracted to him, so BF Brother represented a younger, hipper, sexier alternative. He was In A Band and he lived kind of Day to Day, whereas the other guy was Responsible and Had a Career.
Anyway, I wrote the BF Brother these mildly suggestive letters, which were about how I wasn't into relationships (this was a great part of my attraction to older men & younger men during this time of my life), and how everyone else was a version of The Man.
One letter described in detail my trip to a grocery store and how I was so very disdainful of a conversation I overheard. A couple earnestly fought over what kind of bacon to buy as they stood in front of the meat counter. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and I'm quite sure that he was wearing loafers. This, to me, represented the very depth of the Ridiculous Domestic, that which I aspired never to be. I told this boy that I would never do this. No! I would discuss bacon with no man. What was the point? Choose a bacon and move on!
Well, friends, I can testify that now, nearly 42, I am all that and more.
But today, after Middlebrow & I raked & shoveled leaves from our driveway and lawn (yes, chores which normal home owners did in October), I walked to the store. I was all aglow with the domestic my friends. Yes, reveling in the fact that I, the woman who once proclaimed she would discuss bacon with no man, felt gratified by the morning's domestic chores and was, in fact, looking forward to even more domestic chores: making homemade mac and cheese for a friend's kids, making turkey curry, cleaning the living room, doing laundry (okay, I really didn't look forward to that!), totally ensconcing myself in the domestic tableau. Me! Once foe to The Domestic.
Oh how the mighty have fallen!

More Disgusting Trials I Will Not Mention

2010-12-02T21:58:00.000-07:00

If one were to make a brochure or a pamphlet or even, God forbid!, a short book called, perhaps, The Truth about Parenting, no one, I submit, NO ONE would actually ever become a parent. Because, by God, one is called upon to do disgusting things that no amount of money could induce you to do but you do it now, for FREE!, because and for no other reason: you are a Parent.
I will not trouble you with the gag inducing details of said activity, but suffice it to say I need a very, very large drink, preferably made by someone else.
Okay, yes, I will admit here that small children are cute, but they can also be vicious (they have sharp teeth! ouch!), and yes, their little hands are adorable when they pat you on the back or when they grasp yours. Cute! Cute!
But really.
I will say no more, for fear of betraying the disgusting which I promised not to divulge.
Except I will remind you that one time I had to put my hands out to catch the vomit (vomit!) of my son. And this, THIS, was even more disgusting than that.
Where is my drink?

Proud to Be An American

2010-11-27T12:23:00.001-07:00

Now, before you go singing that song, which is basically the musical equivalent of the phrase "Freedom isn't Free" and a bumper sticker that reads "Ask me how I feel about America!" and also something slightly more red-necky, let me just say that what made me feel proud this week has nothing to do with traditional patriotism.
Sometimes I have serious qualms about this project we call America, not because of our politics which are, let's face it, in a state of near patheticism, but culturally. I think we are best known for things like "American Idol" and "Jersey Shore" and Taylor Swift. Where is the art, my people, wherefore the Big Ideas?
Well, this week I was made proud on two counts by the same work of art; proud as a mother, and proud as a member of the culture that produced said work of art. And what, my friends, was this little gem?
It was this week's episode of "Glee." Yes, hokey songs and choreography, yes emotionally manipulative. But, the message was timely and oh so important: those of us who are not gay or bullied have to stand up for those who are. Yes, we need to love our (metaphorical and literal) brothers.
I am proud to be part of the culture that produced this art, knowing full well that there are still people out there who will speak out against it.
This episode brought me to tears. And it brought Son to tears. Sometimes I think he is too much boy, not feeling enough, not given to bouts of sympathy. But it made him cry, even if he didn't quite understand the implications of it. And that made me proud.

What's My Motto?

2010-11-22T21:10:00.000-07:00

Over round there at Hightouch, she is thinking about mottos and whatnot.
Seeing as how I am now a Level 1 Crossfit Certified Trainer (TM), I feel I need a motto that reflects the various facets of my personality, my English PhD-ness, my Crossfitty self, my bad mothering. You know, all of me.

Fixing your grammar and your air squat

How's that? It seems a little literal and perhaps too long. Also, not catchy.

Dr. Crossfit, Bitches

Seeing as how I am not really a doctor, this might not work.

I'm not your mother, I'm a writer with a stopwatch.

Again, not catchy. And really wouldn't make sense to anyone but me. And maybe one other person.

Often confuses Crossfit with Mothering

Yeah, that would go over well at the gym...and at home.

Ridding the world of bad form across broad time and modal domains

Oh yeah, that's it. Again, only a few people will get it.

I used the slogan generator that Hightouch linked to. Here's my favorite:

Something happens after a pull up

Enough said.

What "hate" Means to a 9 Year Old

2010-11-19T17:27:00.000-07:00

This morning, when I took my son's book away because he needed to eat breakfast instead of read, he threw a Royal Fit which consisted of him screaming and stomping and throwing a basketball at MB. Then, of course, he shouted at me, red in the face, "I hate you!"
Of course it made me angry, but what does the word "hate" really mean to a 9 year-old?
Let's consider some of its uses:

"I hate ______!" (insert name of vegetable): This means: I don't like it, I won't try it. You can't make me!
"I hate ______!" (insert school subject): This means: It's difficult, or they try to tell me what to do.
"I hate Justin Beiber!": This means, I hate Justin Beiber, and really, who can blame him?
"I hate cleaning my room!" : This is just an acknowledgement of a universal truth. Everyone hates cleaning.
"I hate you!" : This means, as my mother, you are supposed to love me, even when I scream like this at you. You still love me, right? Wait, I'm going to throw something! Now do you still love me? Wait! I can scream louder! Louder still! I'm still screaming. I can do whatever I want and you still have to feed me breakfast! You can't deny me breakfast! It's illegal! Where's my breakfast? What do you mean I still have to go to school? I'm screaming!

So, in this short post I have proven when a 9 year old yells, "I hate you!" at his mother, what he really means is "I need a hug."

To Be Read in a Robot Voice

2010-11-18T20:32:00.001-07:00

Things I did today:

Took the dog to the Avenues dog park where he lost the ball, chewed the ball, refused to surrender the ball
Called my mom on the (dreaded) cell phone
Had coffee at Starbucks with my Crossfit homies
Shopped at Costco for veggies, nuts & cheese (and spent less than $100 thus undoing the "Hundred Dollar Store" curse)
Ate
Went to my office where I tried to help a student understand sentence boundaries; success unknown
Observed presentations in my novel writing class
Watched TV
Scrubbed the refrigerator (almost forgot this one!)

My life is not exciting but may somehow be made exciting through the vigorous application of a robot voice & a liberal dose of whiskey.

I will pause now so that you may reflect.

In Which My Son Becomes Hypergraphic

2010-11-16T21:18:00.000-07:00

If I ever doubt my efficacy as a mother and a writer (and if you have found your way here, you know I do), my doubts have been assuaged, nay, slaughtered, by my son's recent foray into the form of the epistolary novel. The name of it, which I have coined from the names of his characters, is Letters from Parsel, Beestower, Night Jade and Kwen.
Let it be hereby known that:

My son is a geek
Those names make me feel like I'm trapped in a bad fantasy novel
My son has written more today than I have in the last month, AND
The above make me feel like a wild success as a writer/mother

So rather than wallowing, let me just say Huzzah! And as long as Son doesn't stow the letters beneath his bed in the style he is wont to do (i.e. like a homeless person acquiring fuel for a long winter's night), I will remain, ever,

Proud Mother

The Toilets of Appleton, Wisconsin

2010-10-22T08:25:00.000-07:00

I have been in Appleton, Wisconsin for about 36 hours. On Wednesday night, not long after my arrival, my friend Alison took me to a sushi restaurant. Yes, it was delicious. And I drank sake. But that's not what I want to discuss here. What I want to discuss here is the apparent preference of Appletonians for odd Japanese/European toilets.
Let me explain. After eating sushi and drinking sake and about five glasses of water, I had to pee (it happens to the best of us). So I went into the bathroom at the sushi restaurant. The toilet had a heated seat which, in a public place, is a bit unnerving. Also, it had all these tubes and hoses affixed to the toilet, for various purposes (you can imagine), which made me afraid to sit on it, lest my nether regions were suddenly bathed in warm water. This did not happen.
Well, that was strange, but then last night we went to a fancy non-Japanese restaurant and they too had a crazy/fancy toilet, with a warmed seat and a control panel on the wall for how you wanted the water to spray out and whether you wanted it on your rear or forward parts.
Holy cow, Appleton! What's the deal? Even though I am not a fan of said toilet I can somewhat understand how there could be a Japanese toilet in a Japanese restaurant. I do not, however, understand the presence of a strange, perhaps European, toilet in a regular old fancy restaurant. The only plausible explanation is that Appletonians love their heated toilet seats and fancy bidet style cleansing mechanisms and somehow the restaurantuers of the Fox City region somehow discovered this information (how? diner comment cards?) and have implemented these toilets because, for some reason, the toilets affect how much the diners like their food.
Discuss.

Live from Appleton...

2010-10-21T08:56:00.000-07:00

Here are a few of my thoughts from yesterday, gathered in retrospect as I sit here sipping coffee and thinking about how I should probably be drinking water...

There is a lot of farmland in the Midwest. This as I flew into Minneapolis-St. Paul. Big squares of brown, and dark brown and corn colored fields and fields of wheat. Also silos and big red barns. Also, sploches of intense red trees and rivers that looked like pieces of yarn that had been flung down. I wish I had an abstract painting of this view. Someone would say, "Oh look. Squares of brown and black and green," but I would know that it was a painting of farmland.
Hello! Water! Many, many, many lakes. Little circles and some shaped like tiny fish. Also, rivers. Also, water coming from the sky, known as rain.
Holy Old Fashioned, Batman! These midwesterners know how to drink. And by that I mean, a Gulp sized drink made of brandy and god knows what else. For $3.50. And the whole bar was lit up like Christmas. And some guy in a button-down shirt was dancing next to the bar. To Simon & Garfunkel.
Did you know that there is a drink size at 7-11 called The Gulp? This is the small. Then there is The Big Gulp, which is apparently a medium. This is apropos of the above "Gulp sized drink." I only know this because on Tuesday, when I felt a little high from my massage, I had to stop for a Cherry Coke and I got a Gulp, not Big Gulp, size.
Sushi. Apparently you can get good sushi in Wisconsin. Also, I had sake.
Talking with my friend last night, I got several good ideas. Which reminded me that when visual artists and writers get together = KABOOM! So I need to be thinking these collaborative thoughts more often.
In room coffee = gack! Even if the label says "Wolfgang Puck."
The Wisconsin Fish Fry: ubiquitous. Apparently I am in for a treat. I can't wait to get to the VFW on Friday night, even though I am not Catholic and I think Friday is a fine time for rare steak. Also, I guess I have to drink beer from a can with it.
More later.

I Wish I Had Something To Blog About

2010-10-16T17:52:00.000-07:00

...but instead I have grading. And laundry. Oh yeah, that. And so much of it. Also, there are dishes.
I know, here I am on the interwebs, writing for god's sake, when the house is being overrun by piles of paper that seem so much more organized than I am.
So what it is that blocks the hyper-productivity that I imagine for myself in some far off otherworldly place where women write and, oh, I don't know, someone else scrubs the bathroom sink, does the grocery shopping and makes dinner?
What ever could it be?

The interwebs
Facebook
Working out (okay, we all know that's #1)
Grading
Life in general
Self-doubt
Reading
Crossfit videos
Thinking about why I'm not writing
Liking to do other things

Not as Productive as Hightouch...

2010-09-26T13:47:00.002-07:00

Over at Hightouch she's making us all look bad with her productivity and general creative generativity. But, you know, I need to feel good about myself too, so I'm making a list to assuage my feeling that I'm not really doing as much as I could (which is basically how I feel 24/7).
Here's my list, which covers something like the last few days:

Did Fight Gone Bad, for which I raised more than $200 (FGB is a Crossfit work out and trust me, you don't want to know what it is, just believe me when I say it's 17 minutes of hell, plus it was hot yesterday!)
Ate a hamburger and drank a beer. (boy! that was hard work!)
Made enchilada sauce from mostly* scratch (*bought and roasted Anaheim peppers, cut the onion myself, added spices and then opened a can of fire roasted tomatoes)
Made enchiladas (chicken, cheese)
Made cilantro margaritas (yes! they are as good as they sound!)
Attended class party that I had helped plan & arrange
Yawned vigorously and openly
Went home early and went to bed
Got up early (6:15), made myself a cup of coffee & took the Crazy Dog for a hike with some Awesome Friends
Came home
Made Huevos Rancheros with left over enchilada sauce (yes! they are as good as they sound!)
Got Son to do his chores
Massacred the rose bushes in the front of my house
Made Son's bed
Laundrized the clothing
Scrubbed, on hands and knees, with Comet, most of the kitchen floor (to be completed upon completion of this post) (yes! on hands and knees! It's archaic!! It works!!)
Sat on couch and did the computer thing (in progress)
Thought about what kind of salad to make for dinner
Planned homemade salad dressing
Blogged (in progress)

So, though I may have accomplished nothing on the Personal Growth end of things, my kitchen floor looks amazing (60%), my Son is clean and breathing (he took a shower!), and I know feel better about my productivity.
What a day!

The Blog is Dead! Long Live the Blog!

2010-09-19T10:04:00.000-07:00

Over at Hightouch, she is contemplating the lack of inspiration for the blog. I agree that it is difficult to find reasons to blog, and yes, probably, FB is to blame for some of that.
But I am not ready to lose some of my favorite bloggers. So I'm going to try to blog in an effort to convey to them: look, we're blogging! It's a conversation! Let's talk!!

I spent most of yesterday reading In the Woods by Tana French (loaned to me by Hightouch). You can read my review over at Goodreads. But what I'll say here is, I like a good literary mystery but the key is balancing the literary with the mystery. If it's a mystery, it needs to have a good, solid plot that moves and doesn't get stalled in beautiful descriptions of the crime scene or the woods. Mostly these are notes for myself for the mystery I am not writing but need to finish. In The Woods actually has a lot in common with the book I'm trying to write and so it was a good reminder of what I want to do and how to do it. And what I don't want to do and BLEEP, I think I'm going to have to present resolution for both the main and sub-plots. Which doesn't mean back to the drawing board, it means writing more.
I think, maybe, I'll have finished the book in another 10 years. Damn!

What is good about Now?

2010-09-15T14:08:00.000-07:00

Well, one thing is that since the semester has started, I don't have to fret about what might happen, because it's already happening.
What, you might ask, is that?
Well, first, the students are finally settling down into their roles as students. You know, the I'm going to ask the difficult question and try to pin you down student. The Why do you think you know so much about writing student. The I'm going to come, but you can't make me work student. The tell me more about your personal life student. The You are to blame for my shortcomings student. And the we love you no matter what because you are just a little bit funny and very sarcastic and seem to be looking down at us, oh, just a little bit students. Those last ones are my favorites.
Also, I am almost, maybe getting into a routine which involves exercise AND writing. But no grading. Well, I might have to work on that last one.
And, speaking of routines, it is now time for me to drive to the school of Son and pick him up, along with his trusty sidekick, whom I will call The Laugher because he laughs at every thing Son says, does or implies.
And with that, I'm off!

On The First Day of School

2010-08-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

My first day of teaching is over. Yeah!
I have to say that as far as first days of school go, it was pretty good. It went so fast that I didn't have time to feel hungry or lament my lack of coffee.
This year my first day of teaching coincided with Son's first day of school. I had time to snap the obligatory First Day photo, but little else. Middlebrow was charged with dropping him off and picking him up after. Pretty anti-climactic. There have been no reports, yet, but Son is busy establishing some kind of elaborate Lego culture, complete with Lego economy, in his room with his Friend. I expect that I'll get some kind of off-handed but revelatory comments later, like, "Oh, yeah, but then after Whatshisname puked, Alex told us we were going to compose a rock opera using Garage Band." And this will involve some supply that I'm supposed to bring, or some email I'm supposed to have sent or received, and maybe some costumes that I'm supposed to construct using t-shirts and duct tape. I look forward to it.
So far, the year is off to a good start. Son's class rocks, and is possibly the best ever. Ever! I'm hoping that the insane stacking of my classes in the morning (1-2-3!) will eliminate the time I spend fretting and over planning.
I'm looking forward to teaching the Novel Writing class tomorrow night.

Look! I'm blogging!

2010-08-07T19:54:00.001-07:00

Now that I have decided that my goal is imperfection, I'm back on the 500 words a day plan. It also involves ice cream bars, neighborhood walks, driving around, expensive cheese, and not really cooking dinner.
So far, I feel pretty successful, the goal being imperfection. Also, my glutes hurt. Yes, that's a fancy word for butt.

Middlebrow's Anti-Anxiety Campaign

2010-08-06T11:32:00.001-07:00

For many years, (how many? unknown) Middlebrow has been trying to get me to just fucking relax about the whole writer/writing thing.
This campaign was revived this morning when, packing up a box of manuscripts that I had, somehow, misguidedly, agreed to judge, I told him, "I'm going to think of myself as someone who likes to writer, rather than as a writer."
I believe he sighed heavily before saying, "You have a book out for fuck's sake." (I may have invented his use of the F word). "In any case, you should just relax and write when you want to write. Don't stress out about it."
This also brings to mind a conversation about a friend who became an EMT. We agreed that he would be a good caretaker in the time of emergency because he seems so even keeled and calm. Like Middlebrow. Though we agreed that neither of us could be EMTs because we couldn't do the simplest tasks, like insert an IV.
It seems to me I know people who are stress cases (me) and people who are chill (MB, our friend the EMT). We also have another friend, a writer whose writing we admire, and we recently talked about her ability to write, have children, be productive, make dinner, basically rule the world (Yes, Nik, it's you). I'm not sure how she does it, but it seems to involve not stressing out about any one thing.
So I need some of this non-stress mojo. Or does one have to care more than I do? Yes, I want to finish this novel, but I also want to hang out, go to the pool, see movies, and surf the internets.
But then I think about the novel, I think about writing the novel, or another book or whatever and my heart starts to palpitate.
What's a girl who likes writing to do?

Sorry, and Shame and Anxiety

2010-08-04T19:49:00.002-07:00

Holy Hell! I haven't blogged in months. Thanks, Nik & Hightouch, for bringing me to my senses.
Like others, I am caught up in the dread of the academic year. I have so much to do, that instead I look at Facebook for hours, not really "doing" anything, but more like, looking, staring off into space, thinking, remembering way back in May when I anticipated this moment when it came to me that the summer was, really and truly, almost over.
Sigh.
So I've been working on those fucking syllabi, and drinking wine, and trying to eat sensibly, and meanwhile driving around hell and back to get new plates for the new car (yes, we bought a new car) and then a new parking sticker and then to Costco for vegetables and meat (so much meat!) and then home to make salmon for dinner and to play Apples to Apples with son and then drink wine while I did five weeks of my syllabus only to discover that the semester which has not yet begun is not moving fast enough.
Sigh.
Is it Fall Break yet?

Done with Crazy Relay!

2010-06-20T09:06:00.000-07:00

I ran the Wasatch Back this weekend. While it was fun, it was also exhausting, mentally and physically. The strange part is that the best run this year was my worst one last year. Last year, I ran my second leg (Leg 17) in the early evening (maybe around 5 pm?). It was hot and the volunteers made me take the reflective vest and head lamp, even though the sun hadn't even started to go down. I threw this vest back into the van around mile 1, then had about 3 miles to go.
This year, I started the leg around 9:15 pm. The sun had started to go down, but it wasn't dark. The moon was up. I was running through some beautiful farm country. I was immediately passed by a young, extremely tall guy. But I did not fret. My plan was run slowly and just make it through.
It was lovely and awesome. My first run was 7.4 miles up Avon Pass. It was pretty, but hot. I asked strangers to spray me down with their spray bottles (and they did!). It was difficult, but I finished.
The second run was cool. The sun was down and there was a good breeze. I loved it. I passed a few people, always shouting out some encouragement as I did so. My favorite response was "good hustle" from a guy who had a perfect coach voice. He must have said that before.
I also am, basically, afraid to run in the dark. I don't have great depth perception and my night vision lacks clarity. But overall it was fun. The head lamp is good, because the biggest problem (I found) is seeing uneven pavement.
Overall, I have to say that the race was a success. I was only a little bitchy, and only at the end, after we had waited 6 hours for the other team to finish. The finish line was a cluster-cuss.
Now that I am home and well rested, life is good. I'm hoping to see a movie with Middlebrow and Son today. Then my life will be complete.

Hello Summer!

2010-06-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

Summer offically starts now, since Son is out of school, the sun is shining, the roses are blooming, and, oh, etc!
What do I love about summer?

swimming outdoors
Farmer's market
Camping
Drinking coffee while camping
Smell of campfire
Warm sleeping bags
When someone else gets up and makes the coffee
Hiking
Trail running
Lakes at the end of hikes
Any food consumed at the end of a hike
Chilled wine
Our anniversary
Sedona
Island Park
Idaho
Salad
Fresh fruit and vegetables
Homemade salsa
Market dinners
tomatoes & basil
BLTs
Cucumber salad
Pimms
Any kind of drink in the backyard
Iced tea
Red Butte Garden concerts
Sitting on a blanket in the grass
cool mornings
cool evenings
evening walks with the family
casual bike rides around the hood (especially when they end with gelato)
music
the pool
Son reading in his bed
lazy days

Okay, maybe that's enough for now. What did I forget?

Competition/Competitiveness (does not)= Bitch

2010-06-04T15:16:00.000-07:00

First of all, I just like to use the word "bitch" in a title.
Second, I was/have been a bitch in the past and I'm trying to change my ways.
Third, I'm trying to understand how to be competitive without being a bitch. It's not easy, but one thing I've learned is that when I have little triumphs (first one done with the workout!), I need to celebrate them as much as I wallow in my little defeats (workout kicked my ass!).
The other thing which I continually say here (you're sick of it, I know) is that I need to remember that there will always (always! always! always!) be someone who is better than me, no matter what I'm doing, whether it's lifting weights or running or cooking or writing.
So I just have to get over myself and get on with it.
That, my friends, is what I'm going to do.

My (3) Days of Single Motherhood

2010-05-30T16:27:00.000-07:00

Well, Middlebrow went off to his fancy conference to eat and drink and be merry, leaving me to keep Son alive and make sure Gus the Dog doesn't eat more than his share of plastic ware.
So far, okay. According to Son, Dad lets him have unlimited soda and chocolate when I'm gone. My goal has been to allow him only one sugar snack per day. So far: I have failed. Yesterday, he had ice cream, then we had chocolate, and finally dessert at a party. Today our neighbor gave us doughnuts, then we had soda at the movie, and shared some M&Ms. Oye vey!
But so far my overwhelming feeling has been one of lessened expectations. I'm sure if I actually were a single mother, I'd just have to get used to the fact that my time was limited and adjust my schedule accordingly. But given that I'm only on my own for three days, I've used it as an excuse to just be okay doing nothing. "Nothing" in this scenario means nothing productive for myself or house related.
However, I have taken the dog to the park twice for a nice catch. Son & I went out for a relatively healthy dinner. Then I read.
It's nice to have a leisurely evening where I don't feel like I have to do anything, but maybe have a beer or read or something. And make sure Son takes a shower every few days and eats at least one or two vegetables along with his RDA of sugar.
Also, the second thing I've learned in my faux Single Motherhood is that I just have to do stuff. Truthfully, I let many chores fall to Middlebrow (as he does with me, see: cooking, laundry, etc.). But when he's gone, I say to myself, well, I guess I'm just going to have to do that. And then I do. Sometimes.
We'll see if I follow through and actually mow the lawn tomorrow. I think I can, I think I can...

My Shoulder Has A Message for Me

2010-05-27T10:46:00.000-07:00

I got a massage yesterday from a kick ass Crossfit massage woman. She also does energy work (shh! Don't tell Middlebrow, the skeptic!).
So when she worked her way over to my left shoulder she said, "Your shoulder has an attitude." Yeah, uh, tell me something I don't know! This is the shoulder that I injured in college (produce department injury) and which recently (January-March) prevented me from lifting heavy weight overhead, doing pull ups or push ups.
Then she said, "Your shoulder has a message for you."
Here is what my shoulder wanted to say. Apparently these are the negative attitudes my shoulder has been holding on to:

blaming circumstance for what I am
feeling that life has been hard on me
pessimistic beliefs about my life
feeling martyred and bitter
lacking insight into myself and my workings
having no self-esteem
liver and gall-bladder problems

I accept the challenge to:

take responsibility for myself and my actions
create a positive reality for myself
know that I am growing with every experience
be able to help others through my own learning
empower myself through self-responsibility

So obviously my shoulder and I need to communicate more. We have some things to work out this summer.

If This is Summer, I Must be Happy

2010-05-25T14:17:00.000-07:00

What is going on? Absolutely nothing!
My daily schedule includes cooking meat (three kinds today, oh wait, make that 4), eating, working out (two times), trying to submit writing (on-line) and only submitting two things before deciding that it's hard and time consuming, culling through books and dividing them into piles: give away, home office, school office and What book is this? Who brought this into the house?
Also: cleaning the tub (isn't that someone else's job?), worrying (definitely my job) and trying not to obsess (about selling the house, not writing, running).
I somewhat successfully freed my run by running without music or a watch. I had a sort of route which went to a friend's place of work (running store) and back in a kind of loop that I thought was probably about 3 miles. It was more and I know this because though I "freed" my run from accessories I can't not know what I ran even if I don't know how long it took me. So I mapped it. But it was mostly free from obsession, so that's good.
As I was trying to submit stuff on-line I thought: who will even read it, even if one of these places takes it? It was my stab at not caring, because I forget to submit stuff. I don't think I've submitted stuff since the fall.
But it's sunny! Welcome summer! Please stay for more than one day!

End of the Semester Musings

2010-04-28T11:37:00.000-07:00

Apparently the last day of classes, or what I like to call "surf the internet while students turn in final projects" day, leaves me way too much time to think and watch videos of Crossfit exercises on-line.
Some of my musings:

If I were going to get a tattoo, what would it be?
How long will it take me to get my kipping pull-up back?
Why are chocolate donuts so delicious?
Why am I so hungry?
Why do students seem so surprised by their not-passing grades?
Will my hallmate ever stop whistling or will I have to stab him in the throat with a plastic fork?
What should my Crossfit nickname be? (I'm thinking "Biyotch!")
Why are vegetable serving sizes so small (1 serving of lettuce = 3 g of carbs? I think not!) and all other serving sizes so big (20 oz sodas?)?
Will students ever learn the differences between it's/its and their/there/they're?
How long does one have to stare at a "final project" before it is considered graded?

Feel free to post your own musings and potential answers to comments.

April is National Poetry Month!

2010-04-03T07:53:00.000-07:00

My compatriot, Hightouchmegastore, and I will be posting daily poems (for as long as we can keep it up!) over at our poem a day blog.
I'm working on a series of prose poems, Postcards from London. I've posted two of the ones I've written over there already. April is a good kick in the butt for me to finish these. I'm hoping they can become a chapbook at some point.
Please visit us over there during the month.

"Against [her] own best time"

2010-04-01T17:53:00.000-07:00

Well, it is April now, and National Poetry Month, so why not a post that takes a line from a poem?
I've been thinking of this line from Sharon Olds' poem "Sex Without Love" but totally out of context.
Yes, you naysayers and skeptics, it DOES have to do with Crossfit, thanks for asking.
Because, as you know, Crossfit workouts are usually timed, so, ostensibly, one competes against her neighbors and compatriots. But...BUT what she, one, I am actually competing against is "my own best time" meaning, I'm just competing against myself.
Of course, in the poem, Olds thinks this is a bad thing, because she compares it to sex without love. I won't comment on that, but she disparages runners because they "know they are alone." I love running and one of the reasons I love/d it was because it was something I did alone. I didn't need a gym or a partner to do it.
But I love Crossfit for the opposite reason. I do need a community, a coach, a competitor to do it. However, I also need to be reminded (like, every day) that I am not in competition with everyone or even anyone. Other people can make good motivators, the clock can kick you into action, but ultimately it is you against your own best time. And, I might add, your own standards.
I made myself redo two push ups today because I wasn't happy with my form. So. It's not enough to do it fastest, to do it best. You have to do it right.
That's some zen shit.
Happy Poetry Month!

Sex Without Love

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.

That Time of Year...

2010-03-27T20:40:00.003-07:00

Yes, friends, it's that time of year when your hosts, Dr. W & MB, once again contemplate the Happiness Index, the size of house to sanity ratio, the craziness of The Dog, the muddiness of the yard and all things locational.
Should we move?
Should we get a new(er) car?
Should we start stuffing money under the mattress, you know, just in case?
Should we reseed the yard or just pave it over?
Should we plant a garden?
Do we need a bigger house or should we take a trip to Ireland?
Do we need a newer car?
Should I get a new bicycle?
Should we add on?
Should we get a shipping container, put it in the backyard and turn it into My Office?
What, friends, Should we do?

In Which I am Not Myself

2010-03-22T20:23:00.005-07:00

She thought that Mondays after Spring Break should be reserved for Intensive Coffee Drinking and Other Forms of Relaxing, such as Not Lecturing and Not Teaching. Even Going to the Doctor seemed preferable to Talking to A Room of Students Not in Attendance. Collecting Papers seemed a task invented in one of the lower Circles of Hell, possibly the Circle in which Administrators languished, no doubt Drinking Coffee and Inventing Other Tasks, such as Assessment and Teacher Evaluations. Grading Papers, she knew, was a task reserved for Some Other Day, certainly not Today.
No, Today was Monday. Today was the Day for Not Being Ones Self, wholly, but somehow Partially and in jeans, no less. Today was Monday, the day invented by those who, obviously, do not Toil but only Work, whatever that means. Today was the day the Students, by which she means those registered for the class not necessarily those who Show Up, thought was Optional, which they understood to mean Not Required, just like the Papers they Didn't Turn In, which, frankly, was like A Lot of Other Things this semester.
Oh yes, the Monday after Spring Break is a special kind of Monday. A Monday which needs Vodka Drinks and other things, like Chocolate and possibly Cookies and definitely Alcohol to be Gotten Through, by which she means endured until Passing Out which, in her opinion, is the only acceptable conclusion to the Monday After Spring Break.

The Confused People

2010-03-17T17:40:00.004-07:00

She goes to a movie in the afternoon. Apparently, this is the time that the confused people also go to the movies. She did not know this.
The confused people cannot find seats quickly, they do not understand that the movie theater has two aisles. They do not understand the concept of whispering or holding all questions until the end.
The movie, as such, is not confusing. But the confused people, confused as they are, do not know when the movie starts, so they enter the movie ten minutes after it has begun. This adds to their confusion.
When the plot twists, as it does, it does so visually. This confuses the confused people.
After the movie, the confused people wander the cineplex, asking questions of those who appear less confused, or not confused at all.
You were in there, weren't you? The movie with the couple?
Yes, she says. I saw the movie.
What about the woman with the baby, the confused people ask.
You mean the woman with children? When she opens the door?
The confused people nod.
Wasn't she in a couple with that man? Why did she have a baby?
Yes, she says. She was a couple with that man. But she was also married. She was part of two couples.
The confused people display confusion on their faces. We are confused, their expressions say. We are the confused people.

On Writing and Exercise Addiction

2010-03-04T21:37:00.002-07:00

So the problem with Facebook...okay, you're right, ONE of the problems with Facebook...is that everybody knows what you're doing. So say, if you, meaning me, if I am working out a lot every body knows it. Nothing wrong there, right? It keeps me connected to my Crossfit buddies, keeps me honest.

However. Right. However...

Then, when one goes out, meaning me...one gets asked, "How's your writing going?" And then if one says, well, you know...it's not great. I don't really have time to write..you know, the grading. Then. Then my friends, you know, the asker, the asker says, "Well, you have time to work out. You're always lifting weights and running." To which one says what? What, I ask, does one say?

Well. What I did say was, "Well, working out is social! It's fun! And writing...." I trailed off.

And then today, after working out (note: not writing) I felt great. I felt high. I felt amazing. And I thought, how often does writing make me feel great? I've felt great after writing maybe two times, maybe three times that I can remember. Most of the time writing makes me feel inadequate and sub par. Less than. Terrible. Affirmation that I am, in fact, not a very good writer. I would say 9 out of 10 writing sessions make me feel adequate or less than.

But Crossfit. Well. The opposite. I would say 9 out of 10 workouts make me feel great. I say after each workout, Wow! I lifted that! I did 35 deadlifts and 35 hang cleans and 35 front squats and 32 push jerks. That's amazing. I kick ass. And I feel good all day.

So today, I did find an hour. And I wrote in a coffee shop. I wrote about 1,500 words. Not bad. I went back over the stuff I had written and it wasn't bad. But did I feel adrenaline coursing through my veins? No. Did I feel like I had just accomplished great things? Sort of.

Writing my friends, is a lonely, lonely business. It's not social, and it has very few (if any) immediate rewards.

The key, I guess, to repeat myself, is balance. Can't I do both? Can't I Crossfit and write? And can't I keep updating my FB status with workout stats? Please?

Inspiration: A Reflection

2010-03-01T19:12:00.002-07:00

This weekend at the Crossfit Utah/Nevada Sectionals, I witnessed super human feats of strength. I saw people do incredible things that I'm sure they didn't think they could do.
The people who impressed me the most were the women my age, the mothers, the petite women who don't look like they can lift 100 pounds over their heads, but they can.
As much as I could, I tried to tell those women how inspiring they are to me. It's strange, and I can't explain it, but watching them made me feel great. I felt great because they are so strong. Like I said, I'm not sure why, but there is something about Crossfit that just makes me feel great about other people's accomplishments.
My favorite moment was judging the last workout. It was a brutal 750 m row, 30 Double unders, 15 burpees, 4 rounds. For men, the cut off time was 25 minutes. I was judging a guy from Las Vegas and he had less than a minute to do his last set of burpees. But he did it, finishing the last five burpees in less than 15 seconds, with a time of 24:58. The crowd erupted, cheering and clapping.
That's what I love about Crossfit. It's not about winning. It's about effort. He gave it his all.
I also loved the forty-something woman who did her weighted pullups (10 # vest) one at a time, but each one was perfect.
Most inspiring to me, however, was my nutritionist, who had a baby in October. She was amazing, finishing 7th out of 43 women, many of whom are younger than her. Watching her finish the prowler event (deadlifts, push a weighted prowler, overhead squats) made me cry.
I'm super inspired by this weekend. Can't wait to get back to the gym.

This Week in Crossfit

2010-02-25T07:54:00.002-07:00

Yeah, I deadlifted 225.

Now my butt hurts.

Today, there will be running (or at least "a" run) outside, as well as rowing, double unders, burpees, box jumps.

But, the lesson I learned this week was from watching other people. It's like grade school, when you get bored, and then you look over to see what someone else is doing. Hey, what answer does she have? But, unfortunately, Crossfit doesn't work that way. It doesn't matter what anyone else is doing.

Why is Person X so much faster than me? Maybe she's doing knee push ups, or maybe she's sacrificing form for time. But who cares.

Because it's only about what I'm doing.

Since I hurt my shoulder, I've had to slow down, concentrate on form. Think while doing. On Monday, I had to do 26 pushups by doing 26 sets of 1 push up. After each one, I thought about my shoulders, made sure they were in the correct position, then did the next one. I was painfully slow. But the pushups were not painful.

The lesson I learned, ergo, (and again, I might add), is Forget Everyone Else. It's not a race. It's about what I'm doing, compared to what I have done or can do.

As James, the trainer, would say, That's some Zen shit.

Movies = Good

2010-02-22T14:23:00.002-07:00

I don't really have anything to say (not a good start to a blog post, perhaps), but I needed to get that Death post out of here. On to happier things!
Middlebrow and I, somehow, against all odds, have actually watched a few movies lately, all of them good. "District 9," "Crazy Heart," and "The Class."
We are stuck somewhere, stylistically, between last year and, say, January. But we are catching up. We will never be caught up, but always, somewhere, in the process. The present progressive. The -ing.
Even when movies are bad, they are diverting. But after watching "The Class" last night, Middlebrow made some sweeping generalization that I agreed with, something about seeing movies like "The Class" and being turned off by Hollywood movies. Which is why, I told him, I will never see "Avatar."
Now, I've heard all your reasons, and they have been noted. But, and this is most important, do I really have 3 hours to waste on this movie? The answer, my friends, is no. There are many, many other movies I need to see and books I need to read. So I will be skipping "Avatar."
Middlebrow, however, still plans on seeing it. For "research" purposes or whatever. But that is three hours I could fill otherwise. Like seeing that stupid Leap Year movie. I know, it will be stupid. But do I care? No, I do not.

Dear Death, I am Against You

2010-02-15T17:42:00.003-07:00

Death,
We don't know each other, though I have seen you before, in the fate of friends. I know you are an inevitable part of life, that I should just accept you, the way I accept rain and oxygen. And sometimes, I can accept that you are like rain, soft, necessary, productive. Without death, where would the cycle of life be?
No, death, I am not talking about your kinder, inevitable side. I'm talking about when you show up where you know you don't belong, in the lives of children, the young, the healthy. Where life could go on perfectly well without you.
I don't say this for myself, as I have been blessed in my life. No, I speak for friends whose lives you have shattered by arriving suddenly, seemingly without warning, wreaking havoc on perfectly lovely people who have done you no wrong.
Death, isn't it time for a lovely vacation, say maybe in some place cold and sparsely populated, some place where you couldn't hit anyone with your deadly glares because no one lives there? Some place not here, not near the people I love and care for.
Just take a break, death. I know, inevitable, cycle of life, yadda yadda yadda. You'll be back. We all know that. We know. We won't forget about you. It'd just be nice if we didn't have to be reminded of you each day, every day.
Death, we need a few days off.

Balance, On Seeking

2010-02-07T19:04:00.002-07:00

Today, for the first time in a long time, I went to yoga. Now, most of you probably know that I have been doing Crossfit since April, and since I picked that up, the time I spend swimming and doing yoga has dwindled and finally disappeared.
But a recurring shoulder injury has forced me to slow down, to reassess what I do and why, and yes, how. I've been thinking about range of motion and flexibility. I'm stronger than I have ever been in my life. And leaner. But I'm less flexible. And now my shoulder doesn't work the way it should.
So I sought solace in yoga. I first started doing yoga in college, actually. It was a PE credit and it was fun, but it didn't change my life. I don't remember much about it except thinking that the thin, hippy-ish teacher was hitting on a friend of mine from women's studies. Then I started going again in Bellingham and got pretty into it. I went to a school there that was in Fairhaven. Then I did yoga with a friend in my studio apartment.
I've done yoga off and on here, searching for the right teacher, the right class. A few years ago, I went fairly often to a yoga class that is close to my house. I started going less when I started running and swimming, but still went once a week or so. Usually less. Then I started going to another studio because I like the guy who owns it. Then I started Crossfit.
When I started Crossfit, all my time and money went to that.
So I went today looking for some help with my injury. And there was less stretching in the class than I needed, but, as usual with yoga (for me at least) I heard what I needed to hear, namely the idea of Disconnecting. I've already held forth on this in the comments over at Counterintuitive's blog, but let me just hold forth here.
The idea of Disconnecting is that we are all over committed. We have schedules and we try to fill them. The idea of disconnecting is trying to lessen that, trying to unplug, leaving holes in our schedules. Free time. Remember that?
The other thing the teacher did was read a poem by Wendell Berry. The line she focused on was something about the grace of the world. What I took from her was the idea that the world is amazing, and we are always trying to fill our lives with activities, some of which distract us from the amazing-ness of the world. Why not try to just be idle for a while? A few minutes? An hour? And just be in the grace of the world.
It reminded me that I constantly struggle with myself, tell myself that I'm not doing enough, not being enough, not lifting enough, not writing enough, not spending enough time with Son, not reading enough, not doing enough for my students, not running enough.
Enough!
Today I received the perfect reminder that it's okay to do nothing. It's okay to take time off from being amazing and just listen and look and breathe.
I think yoga may be the balance I need right now. Where Crossfit is intense, yoga is reflective. You can't rush through it. You have to be in it.
Good lesson.

Is Crossfit helping my brain?

2010-01-28T16:28:00.002-07:00

I read (yesterday, from Tuesday's paper) this article "In Women, Training for a Sharper Mind," and it raised some interesting questions for me.
To whit: Does strength training change the brain somehow? OR, and this is my main question, OR is there something about strength training that changes the way we think?
For example, after doing some crazy hard workout like, let's say, Barbara,* I think, "Holy shit! How did I do that?" Then, later, after I have consumed a lot of water and protein, I think, "Wow! I did that." Then, even later, when confronted by some arduous task, I think, "Well, that might be a little hard. Sort of hard. But it's not as hard as Barbara!" And so then I do that task, which does not involve lifting weights, or doing pull ups, and I finish it.
I think, maybe, the study discussed above did involve some brain measuring, but all I can say is that, from personal, non-scientific experience, I would say, Yes. Crossfit helps my brain.

* FYI: Barbara is 20 pullups, 30 pushups, 40 sit ups, 50 squats. That doesn't sound too bad? Right. Oh wait, 5 rounds. Yeah. It took me 53 minutes. Ha!

How To Party: The Crossfit Version

2010-01-23T15:23:00.004-07:00

Having attended my first "real" Crossfit party, I now have a greater understanding of how to approach this beast, which is part entertainment, part athletic event. Here are some guidelines for those of you who may not have had the pleasure yet. This will help you know what to expect.

Wear loose fitting pants, NOT because you are going to eat a lot, but because, at some point, someone will start doing a Crossfit exercise, pistols or burpees, and you will be called on to demonstrate what you do best, whether it be splits or handstand pushups or side crow,. Be prepared.
Study up on military heroes, generals of past wars and obscure celebrities. Why? Because you may be called upon to describe this person in one or more words or to act out this person in a game of charades and this requires that you know who the person is when you read their name on a piece of paper. Just be sure you know which branch of the military is most popular among your Crossfit friends and study that branch. Also, sports heroes who are in the news for sleeping around appear prominently.
Try to understand the nuances of all the different diets your friends are on. There's the paleo, the green face, the Zone, and variations of each wherein people eat no grains or some grains or no dairy or some dairy or no chocolate or some chocolate. Or just say fuck it and bring a big bag of Doritos and some beer (FYI: Doritos and beer are not paelo or zone or warrior).
Bring your drinkin' stomach. You know that one person who kicks your ass every day at the gym? He/she can also drink you under the fucking table. Believe you me.
After you have consumed more alcoholic beverages in more categories than you thought possible, be prepared for the feats of strength. These can include, but are not limited to: indian leg wrestling, burpees, push ups, handstand push ups and various body contortions that may or may not be based on yoga. The alcohol you consumed will help you relax into whatever uncomfortable positions you may find yourself in after getting beat down by your opponents.
For every alcoholic beverage, drink two glasses of water. This may apply to all parties, but is especially important in this case, because no matter how much you drank, everyone will expect to see you at the gym, bright and early.
Take some fish oil before you go to sleep. This applies to all nights, not just the one of the party. But after the party it might help you forget the injuries you sustained in the feats of strength.
The next day, photos of you will appear. So just be sure that when you take off your shirt to display your guns, you know where all the cameras are.

December: Not long enough ago to be nostalgic about

2010-01-16T18:58:00.003-07:00

December, generally, is all about Christmas and my birthday. I don't have any pictures of Christmas. Perhaps they are still on the camera. You get my point. It just happened. Why review it?

Nonetheless, I had a picture of our rollerskating follies and I think the point of those pictures, though I did not take them myself, was: Look at my ass. Because, my friends, there is both less of it and more than before. I think one of my resolutions, though perhaps not stated to anyone but Middlebrow, was that I wanted to have a nicer ass. And, lo and behold, I think I do. It may seem vain to say that, not only did I want to be stronger, but I wanted it to look better. Am I vain? Very well then, I am vain.

What are my vanity goals for 2010? To be in better shape than in 2009. I can't help but succeed.

2009: October/November

2010-01-16T18:49:00.003-07:00

One good thing about Thanksgiving weekend: friends come to town. Here are the Crossfit NRG girls with Natalie from CO.
This is what Thanksgiving is all about: Son ready to fill his gullet with turkey. Let's eat!
Rowathon. I had this crazy idea that I would row 100,000 miles. I rowed like 45,000. But hey, we had fun this day. Big fun.
The only pic I got at the pie party, which was before it started. Pie galore!! Jane and I in front of Tom Aaron's painting, that I got to "foster" but not keep, because I couldn't afford it. Sigh.
Halloween. Son is Shaggy. And apparently can't hold still for a photo.

2009: Fall. Ish.

2010-01-14T21:50:00.002-07:00

Ross got a new bed at IKEA.
Went to Moab with the most awesomest ladies ever.
Did the Fight Gone Bad Fundraiser. Good Times!
Went fishing with my Dad and Son.
Hung out at a cabin next to a stream.

2009: Summer

2010-01-12T16:41:00.005-07:00

Here's a picture from one of the highlights of June: The Wasatch Back. This is my colleague, the lovely and amazing Marianne, who runs faster than she has a right to.

This is the summer in reverse order, but whatever. This one is from August when we went to Arizona. Here we are with Nik.The other reason we went to AZ was to visit family and stay in Sedona. Gorgeous!
Remember this project: folly! Here I am digging and cursing.
My handsome boys at MB's best friend's wedding. Fun trip to CA.

I Interrupt Reflection on 2009 for a 2010 Update

2010-01-10T13:11:00.003-07:00

So, over there on FB I mentioned the Crossfit Fitness Elevated Challenge that I participated in. Let me herein describe the insanity.

8:30 am Check-in

9:00 begin waiting.....

10:20 I do Workout #1: 500 m row + 440 m run = 3:51 I wasn't the first one off the rower, but I passed a few women on the run and finished 3rd in my heat. After this workout, I was 8th overall and first among the Masters Women (over 40).

10:40 more waiting...which involved drinking water, peeing, talking, checking standings, etc.

11:something... men's heats for Workout #2 begin

12:10 ish I do Workout #2: 90 seconds work/30 seconds rest for the following four exercises clean and jerk (75#) + ring pushups + front squats (75#) + burpees = 66 I was disappointed, but apparently I was doing ring pushups incorrectly, so they took some of mine away (half to be exact) and so I fell, dramatically, in the standings. This bummed me out. Okay, it was totally demoralizing.

12:30 more waiting...during which I tried to eat and felt like I would throw up. I drank coconut water and a protein shake and had an orange and some almonds.

more waiting...

1 something: new heats are announced, with top people going against each other, women going first

1:25 First womens heat of Workout #3: My friend is in this heat and I see just how difficult workout three will be. They cut people off after 18 minutes.

1:45 or so: I do workout number 3: run 440m + 10 deadlifts (135) + 20 24" box jumps + 30 kettlebell swings (16K) + 40 wall balls (14 lbs/ 9 feet)+ 50 m weighted walking lunges (25# plate) + 400 m run = 14:43.

I was pretty happy with my performance in this workout, though the 50 m weighted walking lunges were the hardest thing ever. And then having to run after? Forget it!

Overall, I finished 14th out of 25 women and 2nd out of the 4 Masters women.

I am glad I did it, not sure I'll ever do anything like that again.

I'm pretty sure I'm still operating under a calorie deficit.

After the women finished, the men finished, and the award ceremony was held just before 5.

We went out to dinner and I got home around 8, having been gone from my house since 8. Son didn't seem to notice. I could barely hold my head up, but did take a shower and talk to MB for awhile. Then I fell into a deep, deep sleep. I slept for 11 hours.

I'm still hungry.

May the Last: In Which I Bid Farewell to London

2010-01-07T18:34:00.003-07:00

May #10: Paris!

2010-01-07T18:28:00.001-07:00

May #9

2010-01-07T14:50:00.001-07:00

May #8

2010-01-07T14:39:00.003-07:00

May #7

2010-01-07T14:32:00.003-07:00

May #6: Brighton

2010-01-07T14:21:00.003-07:00

May #5

2010-01-07T14:11:00.004-07:00

May #4

2010-01-07T14:04:00.003-07:00

May #3: British Museum

2010-01-07T14:00:00.003-07:00

May #2

2010-01-07T13:53:00.004-07:00

May

2010-01-07T13:48:00.004-07:00

As you all know, I went to London in May, so all my pictures are of London. I have forgotten almost nothing about this trip. I will provide pictures which need no explanation.

April!

2010-01-06T19:40:00.003-07:00

Apparently I didn't remember April because all the April pictures were on MB's computer. But I found out that we went to Lava Hot Springs.

We sat in the hot pools and took pictures of signs and ate at the Thai restaurant. I do remember that we had fun.

Forgotten dates: AWP Chicago

2010-01-03T12:55:00.002-07:00

So I went to Chicago for AWP, and I thought maybe it was April, but it turned out it was February. I got to see these lovely people, the Erik/Erics.
And this awesome painting. (I can't remember who painted it, but I'm sure I wrote it down somewhere)
And I had more than one lovely meal with Lisa B, which is a coup in and of itself. I think this was the delicious vegetarian restaurant that Lisa scouted out with her super sleuth skills.
I'll try to figure out what happened in April. If anything.

Also Forgotten: March

2010-01-01T16:10:00.004-07:00

I didn't forget most of this, but here's what I did: took Son to Phoenix for Spring Break where we went to the zoo with the cousins

And went rock hounding with Grandpa Jerry

This was lights off night, or whatever it was called, and we lit candles and played Blokus with Son.
One day we went to the Bird Refugee with Son. I had sort of forgotten this, but I remember it was fun.

I didn't forget this awesome chowdah, made with snook and bacon. I will make it again my friends!

My Year of Absences: January

2009-12-30T13:31:00.002-07:00

Okay, I looked back at my blog from last year and apparently I did do some stuff in January, and from the sounds of the blog it was mostly watching TV, resuming teaching after the break, and some swimming.
But, also, there was a picture of a day I went skiing at Soldier Hollow when it was 10 degrees. You can revisit that post here.

My Year: A Post of Absences

2009-12-29T21:58:00.003-07:00

I know that at this time of year we (and by "we" I mean people I know or am related to, but not actually me) make year-end lists of things we love or loathe and we look back at the year with fondness or skepticism. This year, I want to start MY year-end retrospective by noting that, recently, I had to fill out a form at a doctor's office. The last question required that I mark any "conditions which trouble me." One of them was "forgetfulness." What? Am I troubled by forgetfulness? Or, more aptly, am I human and over the age of twenty? Time was, I made fun of my mother (how could I be so cruel?) for not recalling where she parked the car. This, my friends, happens to me every time I go to Costco. I've been there so many times how could I possibly distinguish where I parked this time from where I parked last time. But seriously, does this "condition" cause me "trouble"?
So, this year, I will celebrate December 31 by providing you with a trail to things I have forgotten.
Apparently nothing happened in January, and I have no pictures to prove it.
In February, Son had a birthday. What did we do? Can't recall.
Oh yes, see, now I remember. Son wanted breakfast for dinner, so we had bacon, eggs and what look to me like frozen waffles. One memory recovered!

Christmas by the Numbers

2009-12-26T15:01:00.002-07:00

Christmas movies watched: Two (Elf, Charlie Brown Christmas)
Meals cooked: Zero! (Christmas Eve at a friend's, Christmas brunch at a friend's, tamales from Victor's)
Movies watched on Christmas: Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince, G-Force
Good gifts bought for Middlebrow: 3 (whiskey glasses, Django Rheinhard CD, guitar book)
Gift for MB that was really for both of us: 1 (Mark Bittman's Kitchen Express)
Great gifts received: Many! (Running shirt from my sister, sweater from MB, gloves from Ross)
Cookies eaten: infinite! Too many! Make it stop!
Books read since school ended: Two? Age of Innocence & Year of the Flood.
Things to do between now & Jan 11: So many! I choose not to think about this now.

Book!

2009-12-21T20:22:00.003-07:00

My book is available for pre-order on Amazon. I received The University of Alabama Press catalog today, which my book, and the other FC2 books appear in. Still says March.
I'm excited though!

Lessons: The Last List!

2009-12-10T08:07:00.002-07:00

I'm pretty sure I've run out of wise things to say, but that won't prevent me from offering this fourth and final list.

Drink lots of water.
Hug people every day (preferably your family and friends, but strangers work too, if they are willing)
Go see live music. It is always fun.
Have coffee with friends, weekly. You DO have time, and it reminds you why your life is great.
Play games, whatever kind you like. I like cribbage, Settlers of Catan, Mastermind and any card game. Also: tennis.
Read things. Preferably (for me) novels, but also blogs and newspapers. And mysteries.
Breathe deeply.
Remember who you were and thank her for getting you to this point. Forgive her for the stupid things she did, for without the stupid things, you wouldn't be who you are.
Life is too short for envy.
Be generous to a fault.
Don't forget the past, but keep moving forward.

Here's hoping I learn some other new things in this next year.

10 More Lessons (whoosh! Almost done!)

2009-12-06T19:39:00.003-07:00

You know, life is really, really, really short. It only seems long during the last week of classes.
Don't sweat the small stuff.
The small things are really important. This may seem to contradict #2, but what I mean is, just loving the feeling of your son's head gently resting on your arm: important. Getting mad at same son because his room is dirty or because he spilled water all over the floor: not important.
Some things CAN wait until tomorrow: grading papers, cleaning the bathroom, oh, other things.
Take time to run in the snow. Or hang out and drink coffee. Or sing really loud in your car. I mean, if you like it, do it. If you don't like it, you may still have to do it, because chances are it's your job.
Remember that no ONE thing is your life. Your life isn't your job or your relationships or where you live or what you do, but an amazing combination of all these things. So if one thing changes, you can handle it.
You should do situps. You really should.
Give and receive compliments. When someone compliments you, smile and say thank you. Surprisingly, this is often harder than giving compliments.
Stress relief is not optional. Find the thing that relieves the pressure and then make that thing a priority: running, Crossfit, writing, alone time. This is a necessity. It's right behind breathing and drinking water.
It's all about the people. At the end of the day, you can replace anything you bought, you can buy a new one, you can find a different meal/book/entertainment option. But without your peeps, friends, family, community, who cares? It's all about the people. I'm blessed to have such good ones. Thanks!

More Lessons from my 41st Year

2009-12-03T12:16:00.002-07:00

Today, since it is exactly one week until my birthday, I will offer another ten lessons. These, I decided, will be about food, since that is one of my obsessions.

The things you love might not be good for you, but you can learn to love the things that ARE good for you (like spinach, kale, chard, peppers, etc.)
Always, always, always eat breakfast. Always.
Protein, protein, protein!
Lack of protein makes one a total bitch! And yes, by "one" I mean me.
Always, always, always carry snacks. Such as: precooked sausage, apple, almonds. Or: cheese stick, orange, cashews. Or: protein bar.
If you have healthy snacks in the house, you are more likely to eat healthy snacks. This also works with children. If you just give them the healthy snack, they will usually eat it.
Coffee is not optional.
Do not eat to live or live to eat. Somewhere in between is best.
Savor each bite. If it's not worth savoring, you probably shouldn't eat it.
A healthy attitude about food is a gift you give yourself and your children.

Birthday Lesson

2009-12-01T19:38:00.005-07:00

A fellow blogger, whose birthday is today, made a list of things he's learned, one for each year. Well, I am older than him, so it's going to take me awhile to think of (gasp!) 41 things. So I thought, in the spirit of breaking things down into rounds, I'd start with ten and do a few lists in the week leading up to my birthday.
Ahem. To begin:

There are really very few people who are going to love you in spite of who you are, so when you find him, for god's sake, marry him (done!)
Savor each second, minute, hour, day with your child, because pretty soon he will grow up and it will be sooner than you think
Age is all in your mind (because as far as I'm concerned, I'm still 28)
The things that you think you shouldn't do or eat are not as good as you imagine them to be when you are denying yourself; Forget about them and move on
If you are not improving as you get older, something is wrong (and the benchmark for "improve" is all up to you)
Weightlifting is hard; writing a novel is harder
Keep trying new things
Fail. Fail better. Fail again.
What looks like failure is really just an opportunity to try a different way
You must do the one thing you think you cannot do (thanks Eleanor Roosevelt). Like: Crossfit or writing a novel.

Giving Thanks: An Abecediary

2009-11-24T12:33:00.004-07:00

I stole this idea from Hightouchmegastore.

A...Apples. On which I have nearly subsisted lately.
B...Books. What would I be without them?
C...Crossfit. Enough said.
D...Dessert. Of all kinds.
E...Eggs. I eat so many of them. So often. I wish I could have chickens.
F...Friends & Family. I am blessed to have so many friends from various parts of my life: work, crossfit, writing, running. I especially miss my family at this time of year.
G...Glee. Yes, the TV show. Don't laugh.
H...husband. He's a prince among men. He does laundry, dishes and sort of makes dinner. And now he does crossfit, so he's pretty much perfect.
I...Iceland. Because it gave us my favorite mystery writer, Arnaldur Indridason.
J...Jerks. Without them, I wouldn't be able to feel superior.
K...kitchen. For cooking and baking and standing around talking.
L...laughter. Especially of the kid variety, but I'll take any kind.
M...music. I like to listen.
N...Nutritionist. I've learned how to eat. Finally.
O...Obama.
P...pie: pumpkin, apple, peach, cherry. The list goes on.
Q...Quizzes. Because I need to know which '80s song I am.
R...Ross. One of the true joys of life is when your 8 year old "too cool" son wants to sit on your lap and praises your cuddles. God I wish I could stop time.
S...students: a few make up for the many. And thank god.
T...Thanksgiving. Yeah for turkey and a reason to eat mashed potatoes.
U...Utah. Home sweet home.
V...vino. Of all kinds.
W...Writing. Keeps me sane, makes me crazy.
X...too X-rated to say. Let your imagination run wild.
Y...You.
Z...zebras. Why not?

"An Education"

2009-11-21T08:44:00.003-07:00

Did I like it? Yes I did.
First, it was set in London. So I was watching, thinking, "Was I there?"
Also, two words: Peter Sarsgaard. Of course a sixteen-year-old girl would throw caution to the wind for him. Of course.
Also: Dominic Cooper. So sexy.
Also: Olivia Williams as the "old maid" school teacher with glasses, no less.
And Sally Hawkins has the smallest role possible, but is still lovely to see.
I quite liked this film, but it was, in many ways, a romance, but the happy ending is not the marriage plot.
Plus, it made me want to rewatch many film versions of Austen films (Dominic Cooper is in the latest BBC "Sense and Sensibility").
Also, I don't get to go to movies very often, especially with Lisa B, so it was a grand day out.
Now, back to reality. Today, rowing and then much grading. Then more grading, and when I'm done with that, still more grading.