In review: 2012

Posted on January 3, 2013 by 8junebugs

This was a much more exciting list for 2011, I think. I made Big Moves in 2011. In 2012, I think I was staging the Big Moves of 2013. Even so…onward:

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before? Bought and wore maternity clothes. AND I LIKED IT.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? The word for this year was Home. Given that we’re on the path to real estate and we’re bringing a child into the world, I think I got there.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Yes — welcome, Ryder! But really, almost all the babies I know about – and they are LEGION — are due within the next five months.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No, but a very young woman, a friend of a friend, died at the very end of 2012 after kicking lung cancer’s ass for two years. I didn’t know you could miss someone you’ve never met.

5. What places did you visit? Oh, dear. We didn’t venture much off the beaten path this year. We visited family and went to Santa Monica for a couple of days, but that’s pretty much it.

6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012? A place to live for longer than a year at a time. (Yes. This again.)

7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? September 24, because the start date of a new job is sort of critical to accessing benefits.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Nailing down a full-time job that I love and that supports my weird little family in all the right ways.

9. What was your biggest failure? I signed up for a half-marathon that I didn’t get to run.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I strained the hell out of my hip training (badly) for the half-marathon that I didn’t get to run.

11. What was the best thing you bought? Tie: Kindle Paperwhite and two hours of housecleaning at the holidays.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Rodney. He’s a GOOD BOY! Good boy, puppy!!! Who’s a good boy?!?!

Wait, what?

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? John Boehner, et al. Also Mitt Romney and just about everyone who voted for him.

14. Where did most of your money go? Rent. Good god, I am so done with renting.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Making a whole new person.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012? ”Some Nights” by Fun.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Even happier.

b) thinner or fatter?  Pregnant.

c) richer or poorer? About the same, although on more solid financial footing.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Beach time. I’m pretty sure we didn’t get out there once in 2012, which is just dumb.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Worrying.

20. How did you spend Christmas in 2012? Cooking dinner for four (see also: “Home”). Graham’s parents came here this year to prevent me from getting stranded in the snowy Sierras with a pregnant bladder. We also had a bunch of family over on Boxing Day, which I think I could love as a new tradition.

21. Did you fall in love in 2012? Yes. There’s something about knowing that your kid will be half you and half the person you love the most that shines a spotlight on that love.

22. What was your favorite TV program? Downton Abbey…at least up through the 2012 Christmas special. Oy. HAVE YOU NO SHAME, WRITERS?

23. What did you do for your birthday in 2012? Took a walk in the city. Ate some cupcakes.

24. What was the best book you read? Ugh. I read a lot, but not much that I’d keep on the shelves, were I still keeping books on the shelves. The Mercy Thompson series by Patricia Briggs was entertaining. I also read Natural Hospital Birth: The Best of Both Worlds, which was nice and validating.

25. What did you want and get? A second term for the president. Also a new shredder.

26. What did you want and not get? Not much. I want for little and am very, very lucky most of the time.

27. What was your favorite film of this year? Les Mis pretty much blew me away, although I thought they did an excellent job adapting Hunger Games.

28. Did you make some new friends this year? Yes! Yay!

29.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? More respect for certain rules and property rights — I now hate middle-of-the-night hot tub parties, especially the ones thrown by non-residents. I am also not fond of dog owners who do not pick up after their pets. You don’t have to get off my lawn, but you damn sure better not leave poop on it.

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012? If it’s not stretchy and soft, I want no part of it.

31. What kept you sane? Nothing. I’ve spent the last six months ruled by hormones run amok.

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? I’ve got a soft spot for Cory Booker, but Elizabeth Warren is my homegirl. There aren’t many politicians who make you think, “Damn, I wish I lived there so I could vote for her, too.”

33. What political issue stirred you the most? My own right to my own damn body. Attention legislators: This pregnant woman would like you to know that there’s no way in hell I would go through this against my will.

34. Who did you miss? Mom, Grand, and Memere — all the women whose experiences of childbirth would most relevant and useful right now. Given the way I would like to birth this child, I suspect Memere would be the most valuable resource…also the least likely to think it was an appropriate topic of conversation.

35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012. I can do this.

Filed under: Book of Me, Home, Old Enough to Know Better | Leave a Comment »

Dog Days

Posted on August 23, 2012 by 8junebugs

Oh, August. You’ve never been my favorite, but you sure do look good with a little morning fog around your face.

There are no real Dog Days of Summer in Oakland…at least, not now that we live in an apartment with a southern exposure instead of western. I realize that sets me up for a super hot September, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Frankly, given how cold my hands and feet usually are, even in the middle of summer, a couple of extra degrees here or there wouldn’t hurt.

I wore wool socks to bed at least one night this week. In August. In California. The next time I tell you to bring a sweater when you visit, y’all better listen.

There are areas, of course, even in the gloriously clement Bay Area, where one does not wear one’s woolies to bed in August. Two weeks ago, we were in a regional park on the side of a hill in Walnut Creek, eating cupcakes (before the frosting melted) and toasting our friends’ 10th wedding anniversary in 101-ish-degree heat.

Which was not unlike the weather they had for their wedding. If they had it to do over again, I’m sure my very dear friend would let us bridesmaids wear cotton instead of…god, whatever that was. Something flammable.

(Ten years. It felt like it as it was happening — as each year passed — but once we were at the party, even with Prosecco in our glasses and their beautiful daughters running around, it was impossible to believe that 10 whole years had passed since that wedding. Ah, milestones.)

It’s been a good couple of months for reunions, actually. Drum Corps season has a way of doing that. Graham has resigned himself to the fact that my friends always schedule Important Things on or around Drum Corps International Finals week (weddings, 10th anniversary parties, etc.), so this year we just bought the streaming package and hosted old friends who marched or, like me, were fans. I was done with the lower-tier shows after about two viewings, though, and used my time making better versions of stadium food. Sliders with homemade buns, BBQ cocktail wieners, meat kabobs (they would’ve been real kabobs, but semifinals did not align with my farmer’s market schedule. Alas.), my friend Shotgun’s guac, Bread Salad, Rice Krispie chewies…you get the idea. We’ve eaten well this summer.

We’ve also both been working on Sports for Non-Athletic Adults. Graham did a Learn to Row workshop and joined a local club (and when I say local, I mean that the boathouse is less than half a mile down the path outside our complex). I…well, I’m supposed to run the Healdsburg Half on October 14, but I’m currently nursing a hip injury that I’m convinced is linked to a weak hamstring. I’ve been stretching and icing and swimming instead of running. SWIMMING IS HARD. There’s still time to make the Half, though, as long as this isn’t a serious boo-boo.

I’m looking forward to getting the professional advice on that from a massage therapist this weekend. In just two more days, my two fristers from high school and I have our quinquennial Spa Slumber Party. When we turned 30, we took a couple of days away in Sonoma; this time, it’s only one night…but we’re getting longer spa treatments, so it evens out, right? No wine tasting this time, but for what we bring with us. Look out, Santa Cruz — at least one of us is totally still capable of staying awake past 10 pm!

35 — still loving it. :)

 

Filed under: Book of Me, Friends Like These, Home | Leave a Comment »

NPR Junkie Puts Money Where Mouth Is

Posted on April 25, 2012 by 8junebugs

Ennnhhh. Not that much money.

Tonight I’m taking my first class through Skillshare:

Making Beautiful Stories: Interviewing, Editing + Audiojournalism

I’ve got a boatload of reasons for this, not the least of which is the GIANT, GAPING hole in my skillset where Multimedia Production should be (Reason #1). Seriously, you’d think I’d have gotten more involved in A/V stuff somewhere along my otherwise bizarro career path, but no. I’m the Words Person, and I’ve always been most comfortable with those words when they remain unspoken.

Could be because my writing style lends itself to the page and not the voice. Could be because the sound of my own recorded voice has always creeped me out. (I am not alone in this. If you want to shut someone up fast, play their own voice back at them.)

But.

I have a wild, enduring fascination with capturing stories (Reason #2). I firmly, deeply believe that everyone has a story, and that that story matters. If we can count on nothing else in this life, we can count on this: No one, anywhere, shares our exact life story. Shared experiences draw us closer and cement the bonds between us, but it’s the personal permutations of experience that make us who and what we are.

This is why I’m addicted to This American Life and Radiolab. This is why I claimed all the family photos from my mom’s house, stole Dad’s copy of Gingras Family Marriages, and am determined to have Graham’s mom narrate a trip through her photo albums. This is why I will be your grandmother’s favorite of all your friends — given the opportunity, I will sit for hours and listen to her talk about how she got from wherever she started to your front porch.

And then I’ll want to tell someone else about it, because trained reporters are inveterate storytellers. (Or gossips…YMMV.)

Here’s the thing, though. My story? Best told in my voice. Your story is better — or, at least, more authentically — told in your voice. (Reason #3) Audiojournalism gets me out of the way and helps me curate a story without sticking my voice in where it doesn’t belong.

That “sit and listen to grandma tell stories” thing is a skill I developed too late to put down my own grandmothers’ stories…more’s the pity, as they had some tales to tell, and the phrases they used are as much a part of who they were as their favorite colors and recipes.

Even if I had been paying enough attention to sit down and get my own family’s oral history out of its matriarchs, I’m not even ashamed to admit that I never would’ve gotten around to transcribing it. Because wow, do I hate that task. And even though one skill-less professor demanded that I record a podcast for a grade, I wouldn’t have known how to edit the audio for impact and clarity.

Until now, presumably. This class ought to give me a better idea of how to actually use the free software the aforementioned professor made us download (Audacity). This is one of those things I learn best from someone who knows how to do it, not just where to find it (Reason #4).

As for Reason #5…well. About two weeks before Mom died, I bought a digital recorder (something like this one) with the intention of just having her tell stories in its general direction. I’ve still never used it, beyond testing it.

I think it deserves to hear some good stories, don’t you?

Filed under: Book of Me, Booklearnin', Home, If it's not one thing, it's your mother | 2 Comments »

Soup, and grand theft small appliance

Posted on January 18, 2012 by 8junebugs

What’s the statute of limitations on stealing crap from your parents’ kitchen when you move out?

Nearly 15 years ago, I moved into my first apartment. As I left my dad’s house, I took with me everything in my bedroom, his our copy of the Gingras Family Marriages, and his immersion blender.

I cannot for the life of me recall why I wanted that blender. Was I still drinking Carnation Instant Breakfast (better blended than stirred, which is not to be confused with “good”)? Did I think moving in with a boyfriend meant late-night milkshakes? No idea.

I would like to note, though, that my dad (a) had an immersion blender 15+ years ago (although I don’t know why) and (b) is the primary source of any skill I have in the kitchen. Sure, it took me a while to get started and there was immeasurable influence from other families over the years, but my dad was the cook in my family (and KidBrother is a much more thoughtful, creative cook than I).

In the interest of fairness, my mom made better scrambled eggs. On the whole, though, she preferred bologna sandwiches and potato chips and left the roast beef to Dad.

Fifteen years later, that immersion blender, an early (earliest?) version of the unfortunately named Sunbeam Stickmaster, is a valued member of my kitchen collective and continues to perform valiantly. There was a time a few years ago when I thought it was not long for this world — it was a 15-year-old small appliance, after all, and I’d started making a lot of pureed broccoli soup. It seemed reasonable to plan for its replacement, but it’s still going strong.

This weekend, it handled:

Baked Potato Soup (Smitten Kitchen)
Graham calls this Potato Sludge, possibly because that makes it sound like junk food. I don’t care, as long as “Would you like me to make more potato soup?” continues to be answered with a “Fuck, yeah!” and he’ll eat it without toppings.

Carrot Soup with Miso and Sesame (Smitten Kitchen)
Better without the sesame oil, to my taste, and Graham is not a fan (although he is to be commended for trying something so fantastically orange and smelly). A commenter on the original post substituted miso soup mix and soy sauce for the miso paste, and I did the same, because I didn’t care enough about miso to walk four blocks to the nearest Asian market. I’m pretty sure this was a one-time soup for me – it taught me that I like soups to taste more like the veggies I put in them than like an added flavor. Also that I prefer miso in small doses.

Chickpea-Tomato Soup with Fresh Rosemary (Orangette)
Seriously good. Molly describes this soup as part of her formulaic lunch, and I could eat this daily for a really long time. In fact, I just might…I certainly will this week. My only regret is that I didn’t have any cheese in the house with which to make a cheese bread.

(I didn’t take any pictures. Imagine, if you will, comforting rows of single-serving bowls in red, white, and orange.)

I wasn’t a fan of soup at all until a few years ago. I just don’t remember soup being worth the effort it took to eat it, maybe because soups and stews came out of cans in our household. I mean, my grandmothers made stews and those were awesome, but my parents came of age as the Campbell’s Condensed generation, the generation that tried to make cooking and baking easier and less time-consuming than it had been for their poor mothers. I mean, why peel potatoes — much less peel, simmer, and puree with other things — when you can just add water to some potato flakes?!

Which leads me, again, to wonder why the hell my dad needed a stick blender in the first place, but that’s water 15 years under the bridge.

(My generation may be noted for kickstarting the current foodie movement, once we had the cash to develop our palates, but we have our shortcuts, too. Bagged salads, pre-chopped ingredients, and technology are our time- and work-saving crutches; e.g., we’ll bake bread at home to avoid preservatives and HFCS, but we’ll damn sure use a breadmaker if we can get our hands on one.)

(Which is not an indictment, although I do still prep my own stuff most of the time. Mirepoix is the weekly exception. Thank you, Trader Joe’s, for elegantly, evenly chopped mirepoix.)

So I didn’t realize soup could be yummy until I experienced a decent minestrone and a truly top-flight lobster bisque. It took years for me to make soup at home, and I did so mainly to save money, eat healthfully, and avoid the terrifying amount of sodium in prepared soups.

Instead, I have a terrifying amount of soup-serving-sized storage containers.

Soup! It’s what’s for dinner. Lunch, too. Thanks, Dad!

Filed under: Book of Me, G-Clan, Home, Rearview Mirror, Suzy Homemaking, Tastes Like Chicken, Waist Management | 1 Comment »

Home again, home again

Posted on January 1, 2012 by 8junebugs

The word for 2012 is Home.

Making one. Being one. Settling into and contributing to one.

2011 was a year of transitions. Moving from one state to another, from one company to another (with some consulting in the middle), from a large household of one to a small household of two and a dog. We’ve spent 2011 sorting and adjusting and refiguring and decluttering and building and learning and replacing and budgeting and getting our bearings.

We won’t be buying a house this year, but when we look for our next place, we’ll do it with a better sense of what we really need, where we want to be, and everything Oakland’s neighborhoods have to offer. This time around, Oakland’s not just the affordable option closest to San Francisco that meets the needs we brought with us — it’s a fantastic network of communities with a ferocity and a pride I can get behind. My street address won’t get carved in stone in 2012, but this is where Home will take root, where it will grow.

Happy New Year, Oakland. Let’s do this.

Source: Oaklandish

Previously:

2011: Courage

2010: Whole

Filed under: A life less ordinary, Book of Me, Happily ever after, Home | Leave a Comment »

In Review: 2011

Posted on December 31, 2011 by 8junebugs

With thanks to ejshea, who’s made an admirable habit of using the same list from year to year. I think I’ll do the same.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

Oh, good lord, so many things. I spent a week on a road trip with my brother. I ran a 5K. I finished grad school.

2. Did you [live up to] your New Year’s [word], and will you [select another] for next year?

I picked courage for this year and I think I’ve managed it all right. I’m pretty sure I know what 2012′s will be…

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

I’m 34 — this is true every year. For 2011, the list includes a cousin, my mentor, and several friends.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

In my own family, we managed to lose only a great-uncle and a great-great-uncle this year. I think. They’re not always quick to tell me about the great-greats…or the greats, for that matter. No, this year, it’s my friends who’ve lost parents, and I’ve found myself in that weird spot where you’d think I could offer some comfort, having been through it, but I can’t, really, because each loss is so personal, and so huge, that all you can do is be there. With brownies.

5. What places did you visit?

Gardnerville, NV. A lot.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A place to live for longer than a year at a time.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

March 22. According to our lease, that was the first official day of Happily Ever After.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Making most of what happened this year happen. It took planning and patience, neither of which are my strongest suits.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I let my thesis stretch out longer than it had to. In fact, I’ve graduated, but I’m still on the hook for an archival copy for the Hopkins library…which the program director keeps reminding me.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Not really. A minor head cold manifested Christmas night. I attribute this directly to my Thanksgiving post, in which I was too obviously thankful for my health to actually get away with it. But hey! Not lupus.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

The future I wanted. I took some financial risks in moving the way I did, and they paid off…or, at least, they haven’t completely bitten me in the ass yet.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Graham. Every day, I’m grateful for how even-keeled he is.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Every single candidate vying for the Republican presidential nomination, most of their handlers, and a great many of their most vocal supporters. There’s no talking sense to people who make shit up and stand by it no matter what.

Also! Every contestant on Survivor. You can expect this to be a perennial answer.

14. Where did most of your money go?

First: Moving and road-tripping. Second: Rodneycare.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

I’m excited every day to be back in California for good. I love that this is my home, that we chose it together, and that our kid(s) will be native Northern Californians.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Train’s “Save me, San Francisco.” They couldn’t have timed that one more perfectly for me, could they?

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? So much happier.

b) thinner or fatter? About the same.

c) richer or poorer? A bit richer, I think. There’s more of a cushion, anyway.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

More running, more yoga, more time with friends.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Less time in front of the TV and, not unrelated, a little less wine drinking and pizza eating.

20. How did you spend Christmas in 2011?

We had Christmas in Nevada with Graham’s folks, where I cooked The Dinner: Roast beef, baked mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and breaded butternut squash. I’d have liked something green, but Graham’s mom changed her mind about the green beans she was going to steam. Something about too much food? Whatever. I cook for leftovers, and holidays are certainly no exception.

21. Did you fall in love in 2011?

Every day.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Bones. Merlin is growing on me, and I watch Survivor because Graham is one of the two dozen remaining fans of the show.

23. What did you do for your birthday in 2011?

Defended my thesis, got a six-month contract (which is being extended into 2012), and went to the beach.

24. What was the best book you read?

I’d love to give that honor to the newest series in the Paksenarrion canon, Paladin’s Legacy, but I read the Hunger Games trilogy this past week and it blew me right out of the water.

25. What did you want and get?

A life by my own design, rather than one by default.

26. What did you want and not get?

A “permanent” job with all the usual benefits and the will to keep as fit as I’d like.

27. What was your favorite film of this year?

We didn’t see too many movies, so the final installment of Harry Potter wins.

28. Did you make some new friends this year?

I did. Work helped.

29.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Not a thing.

Wait! I take that back. A non-snowed-out Grand Canyon experience would have helped. The pictures still make me angry.

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Tech Company Chic

31. What kept you sane?

Rodney, when he hasn’t been worrying me to death.

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Was it Miley Cyrus who just told the media to knock off policing her body? Her, then. Otherwise, I couldn’t care less.

33. What political issue stirred you the most?

Equal rights (for everyone, always) and socioeconomic disparity (and the circular causes and effects thereof).

34. Who did you miss?

This is a loaded one to answer after Christmas, which is when I miss my mom and the rest of my family the most. I’ve also missed living practically equidistant between Alicia and Shotgun, with plenty of cozy places to sit and chat on both sides.

35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.

It’s absolutely worth it. This year was the first time I really acted — for the long term — on who and where I want to be when I grow up, and how I want to live. I had to think about what I was willing to do, to risk, to face, to get started on that life. I had to find a balance between planning and letting go of the pieces I couldn’t control. I gave up a lot of security, which I know seemed extra-super-crazy in today’s United States, but I’m where I need to be, where I should be, where I’m happiest.

No matter the cost, it’s absolutely worth it.

Filed under: A life less ordinary, Book of Me, Courage, Happily ever after | 2 Comments »

Thankful days has November

Posted on November 25, 2011 by 8junebugs

Do you know I was never taught that “30 days has September” rhyme as a kid? I’m not very thankful for that.

I am thankful for all this, though:

  1. My health. I realize this is the best way to ensure that I get lupus by Christmas, but I’ve been really, really healthy this year and that’s been helpful. No colds, flus, broken bones, etc.
  2. Steady employment. I took a big fat leap this year and this piece was not at all certain. I’m very, very thankful not just for the paycheck, but also for the trust a new company has placed in my skills.
  3. Smart, funny colleagues. For real, y’all…I land in the damnedest places and get to work with the coolest people. You have no idea.
  4. Telecommuting options. What I do, I can almost always do from anywhere (with or without a snoring dog on my lap), and I work for a company that agrees. This is immeasurably useful in balancing work with everything else that happens without regard for the traditional 9 to 5 schedule (like canine diabetes).
  5. Northern California. I don’t want to live anywhere else ever again.
  6. Oakland. We’ve been here seven months and I feel like it’s home. I can see San Francisco FROM MY HOUSE. (Okay, from the trail two blocks away. Technically, we can see Alameda from our house.)
  7. A good haircut. In October, I paid more for just a haircut than I ever have before, but I did so at a salon where they treat curly hair like it’s made of gold…and because I’m growing it out, I’m not going to need another haircut for six months. I realize I have kind of a shaggy-dog thing going on right now, but it’s intentional and I love it. (Graham does, too, although yesterday he offered me a Scooby snack.)
  8. A good vet. The follow-up vet continues to be awesome. She listens and explains and worries about our dog like he’s her own. And one of the receptionists is exactly the kind of lady you’d want or expect to be a veterinary receptionist. I’m pretty sure she designed the appointment reminder cards.
  9. A good ob/gyn. Yeah. I had to find one. I found a really, really good one. With any luck, I won’t need to see her again until 2012.
  10. Extended family. In the last few months, we’ve spent more time with Graham’s family than…well, pretty much ever, at least from where I sit. There are cousins and babies and aunts and uncles and family drama I didn’t even know existed because he didn’t participate in his younger years. It’s awesome.
  11. Immediate family. Every couple of months, we trek up over the Sierras, blow through Tahoe, and spend a couple of days with Graham’s folks (and their dog). It’s a shorter drive than I faced getting from DC to Vermont, and I can’t tell you how nice it is to visit family without having to suffer through New Jersey.
  12. Big families. The G-clan grew by one this year — tiny Lillie (Lillian Irene) made her appearance not too long ago, and every time that happens, it reminds me that I have many cousins, that they are awesome, and that I am lucky to know almost all of them pretty well.
  13. Small families. Of the original four, it’s just me, Chris, and Dad (and our respective SOs) left, which gives us a fair bit of freedom to change things up, try new traditions, and see what happens.
  14. The Sierras. If I ever reach the point where I can drive through those mountains without a deep, visceral response to ALL THAT NATURE, just cremate me and scatter my ashes on 880 South, for I am quite clearly dead inside.
  15. Lake Tahoe…which needs no further explanation.
  16. BART. There are days when I curse its slowness, its disrepair, and the bicyclists who don’t follow the rush hour bike rules, but really? I’m completely spoiled and don’t want to commute any other way, ever. Except maybe by ferry. Or transporter beam.
  17. Old friends. I haz them. There are people in my life who’ve known me longer than some of my relatives and certainly better than many of my relatives. Which makes them family.
  18. New friends. I’ve met some fantastic people since moving back to California.
  19. Red friends and blue friends. When you’re a wonk, it helps to be friends with other wonks in the run up to an election. It keeps you from being That Person at parties.
  20. New-old friends. Thanks to the magic of social networks, I’ve been able to get to know classmates I didn’t know before, and some of them are fully 10x more awesome than I knew they were when we were teenagers. Some of them — as well as some of the friends I knew a little better back then — have such great adventures…
  21. Safe spaces on the interwebs. In some ways, the internet hasn’t changed at all since 1995 — there are still trolls and flame wars and violent, ignorant, hate-filled crap. On the flipside, though, there are vigilantly moderated communities committed to…more. More tolerance. More equality. More understanding. More openness. I am grateful for these spaces and for the large mercy of the women and men who provide them…at no small cost to themselves.
  22. Puppies! I love our dog beyond reason (almost), which has led to almost always loving all other dogs.
  23. Technology. Facebook, Skype, Google+ Hangouts, unlimited texting, and the like. It’s never been easier or cheaper to keep in touch with people, and it’s just getting better.
  24. Fruit smoothies. You don’t realize how much they do for your body until you spend a week eating bagels with peanut butter for breakfast.
  25. Books. I recently discovered that the author of my favorite series of all time renewed the characters in a five-book series that picks up right where the last book left off. I’ve read the first two books and pre-ordered the next one, and they’re good.
  26. TED Talks. When I get bogged down in a project, I take 20 minutes to listen to one for inspiration. It’s free, easy to access, and I am never disappointed.
  27. Simple pleasures. Coffee, hot showers on rainy days, knee socks, homemade bread and stew, good pillows.
  28. Long walks. Sunshine cleanses more than dirty laundry.
  29. Amazon, Etsy, King Arthur Flour, Penzey’s, and all other online stores that help keep me out of malls. I hate malls.
  30. Graham.

Filed under: A life less ordinary, Book of Me, Courage, G-Clan, Happily ever after | 5 Comments »

Perspective

Posted on January 6, 2011 by 8junebugs

Quotes from the World’s Best Boyfriend

Pre-surgery, regarding risks and recovery:
“I’m blind and we can’t fix it. If you go deaf, we’re screwed. Let’s do it.”

Post-surgery, regarding my inexplicable need to heal faster and do more earlier than directed:
“Think of it this way: You’ve just had your skeleton altered. It’s okay if you need a little help for a while.”

I know. Totally a keeper, right?

Also, you know how sometimes you’re talking and you feel the need to yawn, and you wind up yawning and talking at the same time? Yeah, I’ve learned not to do that ever again. It’s like I’m yelling in my own ear over the sound of waves crashing.

My current Hearing Problem is dealing with layers of sound in places like Subway. I’m down one ear and the one that’s working isn’t accustomed to carrying the load. My right ear can’t quite handle three people ordering at once, the hum of the soda machine, the 5-year-old Top 40 muzak, the ding of the microwave, and the sound of traffic every time the door opens. It shouldn’t have to for much longer, but I finally feel like I have a little perspective on sensory overload.

My follow-up appointment is today and the rest of the surgical packing goo will come out. I’m terrified that the doctor will find an infection, which would be ALL MY FAULT for incompetently sealing the ear canal with vaseline-coated cotton balls before showering. Which, for what it’s worth, ain’t easy. I can calculate Cronbach’s alpha (although I would greatly prefer not to), but I am incapable of keeping the inside of my damn ear bone dry.

G keeps assuring me that it’s unlikely I have an infection if my temperature rarely rises above 96.5. And that’s higher than it was two days ago, when the number made him wonder why I’m not dead from hypothermia. I haven’t stopped to google that, but I’m confident hypothermia happens below 90 degrees F, yeah?

Regardless, it’ll be nice to no longer feel like I reallyreallyreally need to clean out my ear. Former roommates in the house may recall that I obsess slightly about having my ears, nose, and throat clear (and I crack my toes. A lot.). I’m adjusting to not blowing my nose and cleaning out my ears as part of my morning routine…and I’m a little grumpy about it.

Filed under: A life less ordinary, A Votre Sante, Book of Me, Happily ever after | 4 Comments »

Book of Me

Posted on August 13, 2010 by 8junebugs

Courtesy of Havi at The Fluent Self, by way of Elizabeth Halt…

“Anything that’s useful. All that stuff you think you’ll remember but actually you don’t. A working hypothesis you’re currently testing. Or an aspect of yourself or your life that’s currently under investigation.”

Book of Me

I feel better, stand taller, and walk more purposefully all day if I do something active in the morning.

I’m more comfortable being a little bit hungry than a little too full. There is a line, though, between comfortably peckish and FEED ME NOW RIGHT NOW OR I WILL EAT YOUR FINGERS TWO AT A TIME. Blood tests stubbornly show zero glycemic issues, but…we’re all safer if I have a granola bar in my bag.

Dehydration makes me extraordinarily cranky, and the more water I drink, the more water I crave/need.

I probably grind my teeth in my sleep. I might do this less often when I fall asleep on my back.

Certain chords, when sung, will ease most of my stress, make me smile, and give me goosebumps. I don’t know what the chords are…only that they work every time.

I hate it when the air is so hot that it’s impossible to take a breath of cool air, no matter how fast you’re moving or breathing.

After blogging (and editing professionally) for most of the last nine years, I have a harder time with academic writing than I would have expected. Most of what I write for my classes could be shorter, more pointed, and more fun to read, and that bugs the crap out of me.

Ongoing…

http://www.8junebugs.com
(scroll down, on left sidebar)

Podcast link:

http://8junebugs.podomatic.com/entry/2010-08-13T14_34_04-07_00

BUT!

Podomatic is only playing the podcast as a download–is streaming only available at the Pro level?

Any of the episodes work:

http://8junebugs.podomatic.com/

Filed under: A life less ordinary, Book of Me | 2 Comments »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.