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Friday, February 5, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
"Food Rules" with Michael Pollan
Just found this article in the New York Times this morning. It's a delightful interview with Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food, both of which I have mentioned in previous posts. His new book, Food Rules, comes out soon. I'm very much looking forward to reading it, and from what it looks like, you should be, too. It's apparantly a humurous and easy to approach distillation of his most salient arguments about food, food culture, and eating. In particular, he provides 64 rules for how to eat so you don't go about screwing yourself over by blindly consuming processed foods and shoveling it into your face without so much as a teensy amount of enjoyment. Rules like, “It’s not food if it’s served through the window of your car" and "It's not food if it's called by the same name in every language" (think Coca Cola, Big Mac, and Skittles) are both cute and helpful.
So, if you've never read anything of his before, this might be the one for you. But... still... read the other books, too. Just sayin'.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
jewelry.fetish.
Check it.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Food
We know I love it. We all know I eat tons of it...
Food.
Or at least I thought I did.
After reading Michael Pollan's book In Defense of Food, I have come to the shocking revelation that, in fact, I am not in love with "food." Nope. And... I don't actually eat tons of "food." Actually, Pollan makes a fairly convincing argument for the idea that I, along with most of the dominant American population, eat mostly food-like things or processed food substances. Not food. Furthermore, I'm kind of in love with this strange concoction brewed up, mostly due to government subsidizing of corn, called high fructose corn syrup. Again, not food. It's basically the product of some scientist's chemistry set. I remember the goo I produced in my beaker during chem lab in college. Gross...
I'll try to take you through a Reader's Digest version of Pollan's argument in this book. First, let me implore you to read it for yourself - it's pretty short, I promise, and you'll get the whole enchilada from him much better than I can synopsize (is that a word??) here in his blog. Here it goes:
Pollan believes, and I agree, that while we believe we eat food, what we mostly consume falls under the category of "edible foodlike substances." You know, foodlike things that contain processed sugar, corn, and the like that all come in fancy packaging. Most of the ingredients we either can't pronounce or are products of chemistry... but certainly are not things that were once a part of our earth in any naturally occurring fashion. Nope. Not food. This central argument evolves and branches out to touch on issues central to an "American" diet and the paradox that the most food-conscious and nutrition conscious nation is actually the least nutritious and healthy. Oops. How is that possible? Well, according to Pollan, it has a lot to do with the fact that we, as a culture, have thrown away traditional, cultural connections to eating in favor of viewing food merely as nutrient houses. We do not enjoy food or the culture of eating the way traditional cultures do. Thus, he admonishes us all to start eating food again to challenge the nutrient-focused ethos in our nation. Furthermore, he urges us to eat and not just feed our bodies. Eat. Savor. Enjoy! But eat unprocessed, real, well-grown FOOD.
As I said - that was the book in a nutshell - and Pollan also provides a laundry list of evidence to support the idea that eating real food - not fake food - is correlated (and may be causally linked) to the absence of heart disease and other fatal conditions that Americans suffer from at a significantly higher rate than most other cultures. Yet another reason to just say NO to the high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Oh, and he also lays out a bunch of heuristics with which to approach what to eat - one of them being just don't eat HFCS. Read his other book entitled The Omnivores Dilemma for more on the evils of HFCS. It's as much a political thing as it is a gastronomic one. Anyway, I digress...
So, my point is simple - my whole perspective on eating has been changed in light of reading this book. I'm a little shocked that I have been going down this eating path, given that I'm incredibly healthy and have a husband that prepares home-cooked meals for me every night he can. And as a result of his efforts, I'm now, more than EVER, experimenting in the kitchen with new recipes, ingredients, and flavors. I even practice my knife skills :-) Jacob and I are some of the few young couples I know that save money to go eat (or make!) long, elaborate, precisely prepared meals. We know how to enjoy eating. We eat butter (not margarine - listen to Pollan on this one, too!). We like fat and carbs as well as brussel sprouts. But those darn processed foods are so ubiquitous that they're undeniably a part of all of our lives unless we make a concerted effort to subtract them from our daily food intake.
I, for one, am fully committed to eating real food. No more processed food items, if it can be helped. No more HFCS. No more shoveling the food in while driving in the car. And God help us... no more fast food! (Not that I was a big connoisseur of that crap before now...)
As the New Year begins, what better "resolution" could one make than a pact to change the way you eat? You do eat at least three times a day and yet it's probably something you spend very little time contemplating or preparing for. Sure, by committing to eat real food I'm also committing to spending more time, money, and effort on my food and my meals - but if that means enjoying myself, my body, the earth, and my life more, then heck... so be it.
I close with Pollan's seven word call to rethink what to eat:
Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
I will keep you posted on the food that I'm eating and enjoying... Happy New Year!
Food.
Or at least I thought I did.
After reading Michael Pollan's book In Defense of Food, I have come to the shocking revelation that, in fact, I am not in love with "food." Nope. And... I don't actually eat tons of "food." Actually, Pollan makes a fairly convincing argument for the idea that I, along with most of the dominant American population, eat mostly food-like things or processed food substances. Not food. Furthermore, I'm kind of in love with this strange concoction brewed up, mostly due to government subsidizing of corn, called high fructose corn syrup. Again, not food. It's basically the product of some scientist's chemistry set. I remember the goo I produced in my beaker during chem lab in college. Gross...
I'll try to take you through a Reader's Digest version of Pollan's argument in this book. First, let me implore you to read it for yourself - it's pretty short, I promise, and you'll get the whole enchilada from him much better than I can synopsize (is that a word??) here in his blog. Here it goes:
Pollan believes, and I agree, that while we believe we eat food, what we mostly consume falls under the category of "edible foodlike substances." You know, foodlike things that contain processed sugar, corn, and the like that all come in fancy packaging. Most of the ingredients we either can't pronounce or are products of chemistry... but certainly are not things that were once a part of our earth in any naturally occurring fashion. Nope. Not food. This central argument evolves and branches out to touch on issues central to an "American" diet and the paradox that the most food-conscious and nutrition conscious nation is actually the least nutritious and healthy. Oops. How is that possible? Well, according to Pollan, it has a lot to do with the fact that we, as a culture, have thrown away traditional, cultural connections to eating in favor of viewing food merely as nutrient houses. We do not enjoy food or the culture of eating the way traditional cultures do. Thus, he admonishes us all to start eating food again to challenge the nutrient-focused ethos in our nation. Furthermore, he urges us to eat and not just feed our bodies. Eat. Savor. Enjoy! But eat unprocessed, real, well-grown FOOD.
As I said - that was the book in a nutshell - and Pollan also provides a laundry list of evidence to support the idea that eating real food - not fake food - is correlated (and may be causally linked) to the absence of heart disease and other fatal conditions that Americans suffer from at a significantly higher rate than most other cultures. Yet another reason to just say NO to the high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Oh, and he also lays out a bunch of heuristics with which to approach what to eat - one of them being just don't eat HFCS. Read his other book entitled The Omnivores Dilemma for more on the evils of HFCS. It's as much a political thing as it is a gastronomic one. Anyway, I digress...
So, my point is simple - my whole perspective on eating has been changed in light of reading this book. I'm a little shocked that I have been going down this eating path, given that I'm incredibly healthy and have a husband that prepares home-cooked meals for me every night he can. And as a result of his efforts, I'm now, more than EVER, experimenting in the kitchen with new recipes, ingredients, and flavors. I even practice my knife skills :-) Jacob and I are some of the few young couples I know that save money to go eat (or make!) long, elaborate, precisely prepared meals. We know how to enjoy eating. We eat butter (not margarine - listen to Pollan on this one, too!). We like fat and carbs as well as brussel sprouts. But those darn processed foods are so ubiquitous that they're undeniably a part of all of our lives unless we make a concerted effort to subtract them from our daily food intake.
I, for one, am fully committed to eating real food. No more processed food items, if it can be helped. No more HFCS. No more shoveling the food in while driving in the car. And God help us... no more fast food! (Not that I was a big connoisseur of that crap before now...)
As the New Year begins, what better "resolution" could one make than a pact to change the way you eat? You do eat at least three times a day and yet it's probably something you spend very little time contemplating or preparing for. Sure, by committing to eat real food I'm also committing to spending more time, money, and effort on my food and my meals - but if that means enjoying myself, my body, the earth, and my life more, then heck... so be it.
I close with Pollan's seven word call to rethink what to eat:
Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
I will keep you posted on the food that I'm eating and enjoying... Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
IKEA: Or, why we can never go there just ONCE in a day...
Ah, IKEA. Say it with me now, "IKEAAAAAAAA...." Let it linger on your tongue, for you know the goodness that IKEA brings. As all are Irish on St. Patty's Day, all are Swedish for the hour and a half you're in IKEA. From the meatballs and lingenberry sauce to the Rykstopp pillow cases and Orgendorf side table, it's a festival of all things the good ol' Swedes do best - make stuff. Mostly furniture. Sometimes bizarre lamps. But strap on your clogs, friends, for a trip to IKEA is more than just bright blue and yellow tarp bags and DIY bookcaes. Oh no no no. Don't let the adorable names and cutsey kids' playsets fool you. IKEA is an beautiful, wonder, but totally evil trap. It sucks you in and makes you incapable of purchasing the correct parts for anything you buy. It blinds you with cuteness and makes you feel like you're finally doing something good for yourself and your home. And then it turns on you...
Trust me.
I've been there twice today. That's right. Twice. This, my friends, did not make me at all happy. Certainly not clog-wearing, meatball-eating, Orgentopp-buying happy. Nope. Two trips in one day is badddddddd. It makes Rachel maddddddd.
Mind you, this store is approximately 45 minutes away. Add in the outrageous lines (it's a TUESDAY, people!! What are you doing in IKEA?!?! Don't you have jobs???), the traffic jams in the textiles department, and you've got yourself a full-on afternoon spent Swede-ing it up in a gigantic West Chester superstore. Oh, and to make matters worse, I heard at least two Spice Girls songs while I was there. Ok, well, maybe that makes things better... but you get my point.
I always have to gear myself up for these IKEA trips, especially when Jacob goes with me. He and I have the inane ability to spend massive amounts of money when we're together. We pawn it off as loving gestures to one another, like, "Oh, well if that extra $50 basket will really make you happy, then let's get it!" Or, "It's just $28 extra worth of pillow cases, so that seems reasonable..." And then we put it in the cart (or, if it's IKEA, one of those industrial sized dolleys) and go on our merry way to the next inappropriate purchase. So, today, before we left, I mentally prepared myself for the economy-stimulating afternoon ahead, drank my latte, and told myself to just enjoy.
And, to my shock, when we got there at about noon, the store was RELATIVELY quiet. I mean, I wasn't bumping into someone every time I turned around, but I did definitely step on a very short woman's foot while Jacob and I were looking for couches (NOT on our list of things to be looking for) and then I hit a kid in the neck with a rug. Don't ask. Suffice it to say, Jacob and I were having a blast, picking up things for my office (which is what we were making the trip for) and doing some other fun shopping.
Things were looking up.
Then you hit the "Self Service" area. We all know what this looks like. It's an airplane hangar sized room lined on opposing walls with Costco-esque shelves filled with piles and piles and stack and stacks of materials. You want a dresser? Good! Aisle 32 Bin 21. A hangar that houses all your scarves? Aisle 14 Bin 9. And so on and so on. Hopefully you wrote this code down while you were walking around the store, or else you're screwed. I also hope that you can reach and lift whatever t is you're looking for. It's not always a given that the 6 foot tall mirror you want is within reaching distance. It probably also weighs about 100 lbs, so good luck with that one, too.
This, my friends, is when you first start to think that IKEA is somewhat evil. But, again, the blue and yellow signs assuage your fears and you continue to numbly hunt around. This is FUN, remember??
Ok, ok, so let's assume that you get what you need, lug it to the check out (labels forward!), stuff it into your car (have any of you ever hit the wall on this one? Those damn shelves just... won't... get... into.... the back... of the... damn minivan!!!!), and get home. You're excited. You're jazzed. You've just gotten the best shelving system or coffee table or desk or whatever and you're stoked to put it together. What a blast! Maybe you even got some IKEAchocolate on the way out and you've got this great sugar-buzz going on and you're just ready to DIY the shit out of your IKEA purchases.
You love IKEA again. It's true. You've totally forgotten about the splinter you got lifting the wooden shelf or the toe that got crushed by the over-zealous 20-something lady that stomped on your foot while she was running from couch to couch with her husband (um, sorry about that...). No matter that you spent two more hours in that store than you planned! Or the fact that the drive home was miserably uncomfortable because you had to push the seat all the way forward, making you eat dash, just so the love seat would fit in the back of the car. It was all in the name of getting somewhat inexpensive, somewhat adorable, but totally freaking awesome stuff into your poor, badly decorated, horribly organized home. Ah yes. It's love again.
But then... you realize it. Your stomach flops over. The bile rises in your throat. The scream barrels out of your mouth, "NOOOOO!!!" Yes, you realize it. Or in my case, Jacob realizes it. We've totally miscounted how many sides we needed to our book shelf system. We needed 4. We bought 3. OMFG (as Jacob would say). But wait wait wait. It gets better! The shelves we've purchased don't have the hardware that's usually strapped on them. They're useless. We just purchased $100 worth of wood, basically. Just piles of wood. Awesome. This was supposed to be my desk and shelving system. I guess I could just stack it all up and sit next to it and use THAT as my desk...?
And, this is what I'm talking about. EVIL IKEA! You swoon me and make me love you and then, WHAP! You take it all away. Just like that. Granted, I'm the idiot that forgot to buy the stupid side part of the shelf, but you, YOU were the idiot that didn't attach any freaking hardware! Not my fault, IKEA. And now I have to trudge back, 45 minutes and a million lines and a stupid return policy later, to get new little silver pieces to attach my shelves. Those little silver bolts and fasteners will be the end of me...
This is not the first time, nor will it be the last time, I'm sure, that I will be forced into a two-a-day IKEA excursion against my own will. And yet, I do sometimes wonder if I'm just the only stupid person that cannot just do it right the first time. Or why I haven't learned my lesson and started to check and double check my items before checking out and taking them home... but for some reason, my IKEA trips are just plain flawed.
Maybe it's me. Maybe it's IKEA. Either way, as I sit at my Ivar desk on my Uterstafajfkdorflskna chair, I begrudingly admit that I love to hate IKEA. I confess, I can't wait to go back to that store. I want those meatballs even though they make my stomach hurt. I want to sit on the gigantic shopping cart while Jacob pushes me through the over-sized aisles. I want more stuff. ANd, yes, I know I'll screw it up or THEY will screw it up, and I'll think it's evil and out to get me. But, it's IKEA. The giver of all things good and sweet and honest. The place where magic happens and kids eat free before 11am. IKEA. Say it with me now, "IKEAAAAAAA..." Ah. That's better.
Trust me.
I've been there twice today. That's right. Twice. This, my friends, did not make me at all happy. Certainly not clog-wearing, meatball-eating, Orgentopp-buying happy. Nope. Two trips in one day is badddddddd. It makes Rachel maddddddd.
Mind you, this store is approximately 45 minutes away. Add in the outrageous lines (it's a TUESDAY, people!! What are you doing in IKEA?!?! Don't you have jobs???), the traffic jams in the textiles department, and you've got yourself a full-on afternoon spent Swede-ing it up in a gigantic West Chester superstore. Oh, and to make matters worse, I heard at least two Spice Girls songs while I was there. Ok, well, maybe that makes things better... but you get my point.
I always have to gear myself up for these IKEA trips, especially when Jacob goes with me. He and I have the inane ability to spend massive amounts of money when we're together. We pawn it off as loving gestures to one another, like, "Oh, well if that extra $50 basket will really make you happy, then let's get it!" Or, "It's just $28 extra worth of pillow cases, so that seems reasonable..." And then we put it in the cart (or, if it's IKEA, one of those industrial sized dolleys) and go on our merry way to the next inappropriate purchase. So, today, before we left, I mentally prepared myself for the economy-stimulating afternoon ahead, drank my latte, and told myself to just enjoy.
And, to my shock, when we got there at about noon, the store was RELATIVELY quiet. I mean, I wasn't bumping into someone every time I turned around, but I did definitely step on a very short woman's foot while Jacob and I were looking for couches (NOT on our list of things to be looking for) and then I hit a kid in the neck with a rug. Don't ask. Suffice it to say, Jacob and I were having a blast, picking up things for my office (which is what we were making the trip for) and doing some other fun shopping.
Things were looking up.
Then you hit the "Self Service" area. We all know what this looks like. It's an airplane hangar sized room lined on opposing walls with Costco-esque shelves filled with piles and piles and stack and stacks of materials. You want a dresser? Good! Aisle 32 Bin 21. A hangar that houses all your scarves? Aisle 14 Bin 9. And so on and so on. Hopefully you wrote this code down while you were walking around the store, or else you're screwed. I also hope that you can reach and lift whatever t is you're looking for. It's not always a given that the 6 foot tall mirror you want is within reaching distance. It probably also weighs about 100 lbs, so good luck with that one, too.
This, my friends, is when you first start to think that IKEA is somewhat evil. But, again, the blue and yellow signs assuage your fears and you continue to numbly hunt around. This is FUN, remember??
Ok, ok, so let's assume that you get what you need, lug it to the check out (labels forward!), stuff it into your car (have any of you ever hit the wall on this one? Those damn shelves just... won't... get... into.... the back... of the... damn minivan!!!!), and get home. You're excited. You're jazzed. You've just gotten the best shelving system or coffee table or desk or whatever and you're stoked to put it together. What a blast! Maybe you even got some IKEAchocolate on the way out and you've got this great sugar-buzz going on and you're just ready to DIY the shit out of your IKEA purchases.
You love IKEA again. It's true. You've totally forgotten about the splinter you got lifting the wooden shelf or the toe that got crushed by the over-zealous 20-something lady that stomped on your foot while she was running from couch to couch with her husband (um, sorry about that...). No matter that you spent two more hours in that store than you planned! Or the fact that the drive home was miserably uncomfortable because you had to push the seat all the way forward, making you eat dash, just so the love seat would fit in the back of the car. It was all in the name of getting somewhat inexpensive, somewhat adorable, but totally freaking awesome stuff into your poor, badly decorated, horribly organized home. Ah yes. It's love again.
But then... you realize it. Your stomach flops over. The bile rises in your throat. The scream barrels out of your mouth, "NOOOOO!!!" Yes, you realize it. Or in my case, Jacob realizes it. We've totally miscounted how many sides we needed to our book shelf system. We needed 4. We bought 3. OMFG (as Jacob would say). But wait wait wait. It gets better! The shelves we've purchased don't have the hardware that's usually strapped on them. They're useless. We just purchased $100 worth of wood, basically. Just piles of wood. Awesome. This was supposed to be my desk and shelving system. I guess I could just stack it all up and sit next to it and use THAT as my desk...?
And, this is what I'm talking about. EVIL IKEA! You swoon me and make me love you and then, WHAP! You take it all away. Just like that. Granted, I'm the idiot that forgot to buy the stupid side part of the shelf, but you, YOU were the idiot that didn't attach any freaking hardware! Not my fault, IKEA. And now I have to trudge back, 45 minutes and a million lines and a stupid return policy later, to get new little silver pieces to attach my shelves. Those little silver bolts and fasteners will be the end of me...
This is not the first time, nor will it be the last time, I'm sure, that I will be forced into a two-a-day IKEA excursion against my own will. And yet, I do sometimes wonder if I'm just the only stupid person that cannot just do it right the first time. Or why I haven't learned my lesson and started to check and double check my items before checking out and taking them home... but for some reason, my IKEA trips are just plain flawed.
Maybe it's me. Maybe it's IKEA. Either way, as I sit at my Ivar desk on my Uterstafajfkdorflskna chair, I begrudingly admit that I love to hate IKEA. I confess, I can't wait to go back to that store. I want those meatballs even though they make my stomach hurt. I want to sit on the gigantic shopping cart while Jacob pushes me through the over-sized aisles. I want more stuff. ANd, yes, I know I'll screw it up or THEY will screw it up, and I'll think it's evil and out to get me. But, it's IKEA. The giver of all things good and sweet and honest. The place where magic happens and kids eat free before 11am. IKEA. Say it with me now, "IKEAAAAAAA..." Ah. That's better.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Updates, updates from 2009
Updates - at the close of 2009...
It's truly been one of those years that I think back on, sigh, and say, "How the hell did we get through this?" Beside the litany of family issues (and BOY was this ever a good year for that stuff!), there was my decision to stop grad school, the excitement of the wedding, and the stress and joy a new puppy brings. How we managed it ALL is beyond me. I mean... how the hell did it all happen?
I remember last year, sitting down to write my Thanksgiving post, feeling happy to just have fingernails! That's how crazy the end of last year was. And, of course, that only rolled into a more stressful, more insane year of 2009. I never imagined that we'd be able to muster the gumption to see another year through. But, cycle on we do, and live on we must, and so goes another calendar year.
For me, personally, this year has been one of true bittersweet beginnings and endings. As we speak, Jacob's father has made it through, by the skin of his teeth and via his own sheer will to keep on living, yet another heart attack. This one left him with barely any heart function and more of a chance that he'd not make it than ever before. But by golly, he's up, awake, funny, sarcastic, and asking after our dog (like usual). Yes, bittersweet. He's here, but it's clear that it's the beginning of the end.
Then, of course, there are more trivial matters, like my choice to end grad school and go searching for a "calling" that is pulling me somewhere... I just don't know exactly where. This decision was two years in the making, and while I'm happy to be done with the droning on and on that happens within the academy, I'm sad to think that this sure-fire thing I had going on (i.e. being a student) is ending. So are my dreams to be a PhD before 30 - not that I ever really wanted that, I just thought I did. Or something. The sword cuts both ways on this one. On the plus side, I'm free. On the negative side, I'm somewhat lost. On the whole though, I'm supported through this adventure, which is ultimately makes it a decision worth making.
My family is finally (fingers crossed!) making it out of the woods. And those were some nasty, NASTY woods we all trudged through in 2009. I have more hope than ever in my brother and sister, as well as my parents and myself, that we're going to be ok. Finally. Sometimes I wonder what we all did in a past life to be put through such pain this year! Yet again, the silver lining is that we now appreciate each other more than ever, and hopefully this sentiment won't dissolve any time soon.
Penny and Jacob are well. In fact, they are my life and my joy each and every day. Jacob is the best human being that was ever placed on this planet. He's shown me - in such beautiful ways - how to be a husband, a friend, and a true confidant. How I ever managed to live life before him is sometimes beyond me! How I made it this far in grad school seems impossible without him, that's for sure. And that darn puppy... she's a little slice of heaven. A menace, to be sure, but a joy nonetheless.
Updates, updates... Makes me wonder what 2010 will bring. A new job? New friends? New adventures? New crises? New worries? Yes, probably. But, my goodness, if 2009 has taught me anything it's that I can handle a LOT. I mean... a LOT. Not to taunt 2010, but bring it on! I'm able to handle whatever you throw at me. Not much scares me anymore. Bring it.
It's truly been one of those years that I think back on, sigh, and say, "How the hell did we get through this?" Beside the litany of family issues (and BOY was this ever a good year for that stuff!), there was my decision to stop grad school, the excitement of the wedding, and the stress and joy a new puppy brings. How we managed it ALL is beyond me. I mean... how the hell did it all happen?
I remember last year, sitting down to write my Thanksgiving post, feeling happy to just have fingernails! That's how crazy the end of last year was. And, of course, that only rolled into a more stressful, more insane year of 2009. I never imagined that we'd be able to muster the gumption to see another year through. But, cycle on we do, and live on we must, and so goes another calendar year.
For me, personally, this year has been one of true bittersweet beginnings and endings. As we speak, Jacob's father has made it through, by the skin of his teeth and via his own sheer will to keep on living, yet another heart attack. This one left him with barely any heart function and more of a chance that he'd not make it than ever before. But by golly, he's up, awake, funny, sarcastic, and asking after our dog (like usual). Yes, bittersweet. He's here, but it's clear that it's the beginning of the end.
Then, of course, there are more trivial matters, like my choice to end grad school and go searching for a "calling" that is pulling me somewhere... I just don't know exactly where. This decision was two years in the making, and while I'm happy to be done with the droning on and on that happens within the academy, I'm sad to think that this sure-fire thing I had going on (i.e. being a student) is ending. So are my dreams to be a PhD before 30 - not that I ever really wanted that, I just thought I did. Or something. The sword cuts both ways on this one. On the plus side, I'm free. On the negative side, I'm somewhat lost. On the whole though, I'm supported through this adventure, which is ultimately makes it a decision worth making.
My family is finally (fingers crossed!) making it out of the woods. And those were some nasty, NASTY woods we all trudged through in 2009. I have more hope than ever in my brother and sister, as well as my parents and myself, that we're going to be ok. Finally. Sometimes I wonder what we all did in a past life to be put through such pain this year! Yet again, the silver lining is that we now appreciate each other more than ever, and hopefully this sentiment won't dissolve any time soon.
Penny and Jacob are well. In fact, they are my life and my joy each and every day. Jacob is the best human being that was ever placed on this planet. He's shown me - in such beautiful ways - how to be a husband, a friend, and a true confidant. How I ever managed to live life before him is sometimes beyond me! How I made it this far in grad school seems impossible without him, that's for sure. And that darn puppy... she's a little slice of heaven. A menace, to be sure, but a joy nonetheless.
Updates, updates... Makes me wonder what 2010 will bring. A new job? New friends? New adventures? New crises? New worries? Yes, probably. But, my goodness, if 2009 has taught me anything it's that I can handle a LOT. I mean... a LOT. Not to taunt 2010, but bring it on! I'm able to handle whatever you throw at me. Not much scares me anymore. Bring it.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Things my dog teaches me
Allow me to introduce you to our puppy, Penny Lane.
She is, objectively, the cutest creature ever created. Her little face is just a slice of heaven. Her fur is velvety smooth (thank you Taste of the Wild!!) and her breath the perfect puppy-scent. She trots along with her head held high as if to say, "Hello world! I am, in fact, the picture of cute! A perfect gem to be admired! Adore me!"
Ah yes. It's this cuteness that gets us into trouble sometimes. You see, of course she's cute and all, but don't let that fool you. She's a handful and a half. She expects a lot from us, her dear parents, and she has us well trained. Sure, she has learned to sit and stay, but now she's cleverly parlayed that into the fine art of simply sitting and laying down without being asked. This, of course, is so cute and irresistible that we have no choice but to throw her a yummy bit of hot dog or cheese. Penny is not only cute, she's apparently a genius.
Don't get me wrong! She's a blast. Her energy is infectious and her personality is so endearing. And not only brought a ton of joy and laughs into our lives, but she has also turned out to be quite the teacher. To my chagrin, I have learned quite a bit from this little chocolate lab. Here I thought that I was going to be the one to impart knowledge and skills and love to my dog, but oh no no no. It has often ended up being quite the opposite. Here, friends, is an ever-growing list of things my puppy has taught me:
1. It's always better to be totally tired at the end of the day. That way, the second you find your comfy bed, you IMMEDIATELY fall asleep. (Bye-bye Ambien!)
2. It pays to eat good food. Watch as your skin improves, your hair becomes full and sleek, and your energy level sky-rockets.
3. Exercise, exercise, exercise. It helps make #1 on our list happen.
4. It's ALWAYS acceptable to jump around joyfully for no reason whatsoever. You'd be surprised how many people you can make smile that way.
5. Be silly.
6. Be outside as much as possible. Run and play out there. Get in the mud, the grass, the leaves and dirt. Get dirty.
7. Grow.
8. Never say no to an opportunity to snuggle or have our back (or belly, or right behind the ear) scratched. It feels AMAZING :-)
9. It's ok to cry sometimes.
10. Most things are better with cheese on them.
11. I think you'll find that you can say, "I love you" with your eyes. No words necessary.
So, there you have it. These are just a few of the things I've learned from my 3 month old puppy. Although my life is very different with her in it - it's far less spontaneous and free - it is, indeed, richer and more alive with meaning. I find the TV off a lot more, my shoes dirty by the back door, and my head hitting the pillow accompanied by a strong sense of accomplishment... and exhaustion.
Stay tuned for more life lessons from our sage puppy, Penny Lane.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Reporting from my couch
No, it's not swine flu. I promise. Never before have I been so self-conscious about having a cold. Yes, I have a full-blown, uncomfortable, annoying cold. It's migrated from my sinuses to my chest and left me reclined on my couch for almost 2 days now.
Usually, I relish being able to soak up the relaxation and delve into the blissfully nothing-filled day. This time, not so much. Let's just say the timing couldn't be worse. First, it's the last week of classes. Not only does that mean that finals are next week, but it also means that I am missing course evaluations and end-of-the-semester teaching obligations that just suck to not accomplish. My students have their last assignment due today (a poster presentation) and I'm not going to be there to grade them! And, due to our end of the year status, I can't just push the due date back, like usual. What's a sick teacher/student to do? Well, I wish I knew.
And if that's not bad enough, consider that tomorrow is my birthday. Yep. I'm going to be sick for my birthday and all the associated festivities. I'm pissed. Oh! And not only that, but yesterday (when I was also sick) was Jacob and my 2 year anniversary. I spent it in a sudafed haze and could not appreciate Jacob's company on that special day. Tonight, we had reservations to go to the #1 restaurant in Cincinnati and blow a bunch of dough on some delicious rabbit, fois gras, and sea scallops. No, instead I will be drinking Gypsy Cold Care tea, which is good, but doesn't hit the spot in the same way that a scrumptious plate of sea scallops with potato puree and a glass of Pinot Grigio does. Dammit.
So, with that, I'm going to blow my nose, wash my hands, and drink yet another cup of tea. I'll let you know when this passes. In the mean time, I have a dinner reservation to reschedule, a party to not go to, and work to not get done. Happy Birthday to me!
fondly,
me (on the couch)
Usually, I relish being able to soak up the relaxation and delve into the blissfully nothing-filled day. This time, not so much. Let's just say the timing couldn't be worse. First, it's the last week of classes. Not only does that mean that finals are next week, but it also means that I am missing course evaluations and end-of-the-semester teaching obligations that just suck to not accomplish. My students have their last assignment due today (a poster presentation) and I'm not going to be there to grade them! And, due to our end of the year status, I can't just push the due date back, like usual. What's a sick teacher/student to do? Well, I wish I knew.
And if that's not bad enough, consider that tomorrow is my birthday. Yep. I'm going to be sick for my birthday and all the associated festivities. I'm pissed. Oh! And not only that, but yesterday (when I was also sick) was Jacob and my 2 year anniversary. I spent it in a sudafed haze and could not appreciate Jacob's company on that special day. Tonight, we had reservations to go to the #1 restaurant in Cincinnati and blow a bunch of dough on some delicious rabbit, fois gras, and sea scallops. No, instead I will be drinking Gypsy Cold Care tea, which is good, but doesn't hit the spot in the same way that a scrumptious plate of sea scallops with potato puree and a glass of Pinot Grigio does. Dammit.
So, with that, I'm going to blow my nose, wash my hands, and drink yet another cup of tea. I'll let you know when this passes. In the mean time, I have a dinner reservation to reschedule, a party to not go to, and work to not get done. Happy Birthday to me!
fondly,
me (on the couch)
Monday, April 27, 2009
Perfect brown rice
Ok! So, I'm not much of a cook. I'm not even really much of a sous-chef. My chopping skills are getting better, but I'll be damned if I can ever dice an onion properly. Those darn layers just split apart no matter how I try.
That being said, I have managed to perfect the art of cooking brown rice. This simple grain, the staple of diets of millions around the world, is easy to cook and imparts a wonderfully nutty flavor. A container of this yummy stuff can sit in your fridge during the work week. Grab a spoonful of it and mix in fresh veggies, grilled chicken, or just a handful of spinach or arugula. It makes the perfect lunch. It is so healthy it's ridiculous and, I'm telling you, it fills you up.
Give yourself about an hour to prepare this. Keep in mind, about ALL of this time is spent away from the stove. Walk away! Do some laundry. Read. Cook the rest of your dinner. I choose not to use a rice cooker for brown rice. For whatever reason, brown rice tastes better when cooked on the stove.
Ingredients:
2 cups of brown rice
4 cups of water or chicken stock, or some combination of both
salt and pepper
1 dish towel
The ratio of water to rice is 2:1. This means, two cups of water to one cup of brown rice. HINT! Use low-sodium chicken stock instead of water. The chicken stock will add some great flavor and some protein.
Pour rice and water/stock into heavy-bottomed pot. Salt and pepper the mixture. Give it ONE stir with a spoon. Cover and heat until boiling. When you notice steam pouring out from the lid, turn down the head to low and just let it sit. Set the timer for exactly 45 minutes. After 45 minutes, open the lid. You should still hear that boiling, bubbling noise. That's good. Turn off the heat (I use a gas stove, so this also means taking the pot off the heat. If you use an electric stove, remove the whole pan from the heat.) Then, grab that dish towel. Drape it over the open pot and put the lid on top. This will soak up extra moisture leaving you with perfectly moist, slightly al dente rice. Just let the towel sit on top of the pot for about 10 minutes, fluff, and eat! Store in a container - it's good for about a week (maybe just a work week).
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Spring?
Today I woke up to the sunshine spilling through the attic window in Jacob's parent's house. It felt comforting and nurturing. Like a warm hug the instant you open your eyes. For me, it's like a shot of Prozac into my veins. It invites a smile and a sigh.
My hope is that this means spring is on its way. I try not to anticipate these things too much, because I know that my hopes will get dashed the second my energy rises and I get excited about the prospect of flowers blooming, sun shining, and birds chirping. But, I think... yes, I'm pretty sure, that spring is coming.
So, here's to sun-filled mornings that draw you outside to enjoy what the Earth provides for us. Here's to new, fresh foods at the farmer's market. Here's to taking runs outside at the crack of dawn. Here's to smiles and happiness. Here's to the smell of earth and new life, to twitterpation and new love. Here's to spring!
My hope is that this means spring is on its way. I try not to anticipate these things too much, because I know that my hopes will get dashed the second my energy rises and I get excited about the prospect of flowers blooming, sun shining, and birds chirping. But, I think... yes, I'm pretty sure, that spring is coming.
So, here's to sun-filled mornings that draw you outside to enjoy what the Earth provides for us. Here's to new, fresh foods at the farmer's market. Here's to taking runs outside at the crack of dawn. Here's to smiles and happiness. Here's to the smell of earth and new life, to twitterpation and new love. Here's to spring!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Not procrastinating
Well, I've done it. I've actually done it.
The "it" here is, obviously, working on my Thesis. I'm now the happy recipient of 4 interviews with my participants! To be more specific, I have 2 interviews with 4 people each. Let's call it about... maybe 7-8 hours of data? In my book, not a bad start at all. Certainly something to start writing the rest of my Thesis with. Le sigh...
It feels pretty darn good to get that part of the work out of the way. The funny thing that happened while I was listening to the heart-warming and heart-wrenching stories these people told me was, Whoa... I could really do this. Like, I could listen to these kinds of stories all my life. They are not only intellectually stimulating (because, we all know how much my brain gets off to narratives of madness) but also emotionally and spiritually satisfying, too. The stories people tell are so alive. I listened as they took shape, changed, and morphed again into something rich and something to make sense of. You see, we understand ourselves by the stories we tell. Think about telling someone about who you are... You tell a story. Stories organize our existences. They make sense of senseless situations. They imbibe meaning into experiences so that we have a sense of who we are, where we've been, and what forms our identities.
In short, these interviews and these stories have opened me up to a new world of understanding. I'm re-invigorated to do this paper, not just because it's interesting material, but because I want to share these stories with others. They are impactful. They question the way our mental health system works. They reveal the travesties that occur from child sexual, verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. It challenges the way we typically think about treating people that suffer from severe psychological problems. It's stuff that people need to know.
So, my lapse of procrastination has turned out to be quite a treat. A success. But, stay tuned, because as soon as break ends, I'm sure I'll be back to my old tricks... making the bed 10 times over to pass the time, organizing the spice rack alphabetically. The usual. Perhaps less than often than I typically do, because I've got stories to tell.
The "it" here is, obviously, working on my Thesis. I'm now the happy recipient of 4 interviews with my participants! To be more specific, I have 2 interviews with 4 people each. Let's call it about... maybe 7-8 hours of data? In my book, not a bad start at all. Certainly something to start writing the rest of my Thesis with. Le sigh...
It feels pretty darn good to get that part of the work out of the way. The funny thing that happened while I was listening to the heart-warming and heart-wrenching stories these people told me was, Whoa... I could really do this. Like, I could listen to these kinds of stories all my life. They are not only intellectually stimulating (because, we all know how much my brain gets off to narratives of madness) but also emotionally and spiritually satisfying, too. The stories people tell are so alive. I listened as they took shape, changed, and morphed again into something rich and something to make sense of. You see, we understand ourselves by the stories we tell. Think about telling someone about who you are... You tell a story. Stories organize our existences. They make sense of senseless situations. They imbibe meaning into experiences so that we have a sense of who we are, where we've been, and what forms our identities.
In short, these interviews and these stories have opened me up to a new world of understanding. I'm re-invigorated to do this paper, not just because it's interesting material, but because I want to share these stories with others. They are impactful. They question the way our mental health system works. They reveal the travesties that occur from child sexual, verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. It challenges the way we typically think about treating people that suffer from severe psychological problems. It's stuff that people need to know.
So, my lapse of procrastination has turned out to be quite a treat. A success. But, stay tuned, because as soon as break ends, I'm sure I'll be back to my old tricks... making the bed 10 times over to pass the time, organizing the spice rack alphabetically. The usual. Perhaps less than often than I typically do, because I've got stories to tell.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Annoyed
Ok. I'm officially annoyed. No, wait. I'm pissed. With my students. I presume none of them read this blog (we're not facebook friends or anything), so I will write with impunity.
When we were undergrads did we wait until the VERY last minute to read the requirements for an assignment, get very confused, then email the instructor with stupid questions? Did we have selective attention during class and actually tune OUT the important information that would make said stupid questions irrelevant? Oh yeah. That's right. We paid attention. We, for the most part, at least started assignments earlier than 4 hours before it was due to be sure we were good to go. So, why, God, why have I been cursed this semester?
Now, the thought did cross my mind that I was not clear about the assignment when I talked about it numerous times in class or in my posted, on-line instructions or on my assignment sheet... But then I hear my own thoughts buzzing around in my head and think: Nope. No, I've been perfectly clear. Many times I've been perfectly clear. This is bolstered by a number of drafts my good, sweet, angels of students have written me a week before the due date. These papers, folks, were lovely. No confused questions attached with the drafts. No annoying clarifications. Just well-written papers handed in by rubric-following students. I love them.
On the other hand, I am started to get fairly miffed by the handful of students that think that last-minute scrambling to write an important paper and then emailing me at the last minute will go unnoticed by me. It's not. I see you! I know you've been putting this off even though you've known about it for... um, I don't know... 6 weeks! WTF! Grrrrrrrrrrr. I growl at you, students.
Annoyed. I'm officially annoyed. I have about 12 hours to deflate, relax and greet my little students tomorrow morning. Of course, I can't treat my little annoyances any differently than my little angels, so I really have to just calm down and let the air out of my tires. I mean, I never really pulled this stuff in college, but I'm sure I had plenty of friends who did. They're not stupid people, I know. They don't do this on purpose to tick me off, I know. But I suppose I'll never fail to be surprised with what some of my students will think they can get away with.
All I have to say is that if even one of my students comes crying to me on the last day of class about their grade, I'm gonna scream!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Breakthroughs
I have had a number of breakthroughs in the past few days. Some of them minute (i.e. interacting with my thesis for a whole 15 minutes) and some of them very huge (i.e. having revelations about "who i am"). And I must say, within these varied and mostly uncomfortable epiphanies, one constant remained. Friends.
Each of these breakthroughs ended with me thinking, "Gee, I'm really thankful I have friends." They see me through this shit that is my life. When I think I'm really out to sea and there's no way anyone could ever get it, my friends seem to figure it out. They know what's going on. And they're there for me. Like... every time. How crazy!
It's funny to think that when you're dashing through a life that is so not what you thought it would be for you that you can find people to hang on to. And that they hang on to you. I often feel that my insane life and constant troubles would be enough to turn any rational, intelligent being away. That even those who know me would suddenly say, Ok, Rach! You're just too much for me now! But no. My friends don't do that.
Astonishing.
So, as these breakthroughs continue to come, I realize that I can relax into whatever situation I find myself in. I've got a few people hanging out that really care. And it puts everything into perspective. The world is a dizzying place. For me during these past two years, the world has been somewhat hard to handle, scary, and challenging. I've done things I wish I hadn't, I've done things I never imagined I could do, and I've become a person that I'm not sure I ever thought I'd be. I'm lightyears away from anything I ever intended for myself. I'm also very happy in many ways. And when I sit back and reflect on that happiness, I see the faces of my friends, of Jacob, my siblings, and my family. But mostly, here in Oxford, I see my friends. Each of them (and, of course, Jacob) is making my crazy life doable. And no matter how much I screw it up, they somehow still find love to give to me.
And isn't that the most profound breakthrough of all?
Each of these breakthroughs ended with me thinking, "Gee, I'm really thankful I have friends." They see me through this shit that is my life. When I think I'm really out to sea and there's no way anyone could ever get it, my friends seem to figure it out. They know what's going on. And they're there for me. Like... every time. How crazy!
It's funny to think that when you're dashing through a life that is so not what you thought it would be for you that you can find people to hang on to. And that they hang on to you. I often feel that my insane life and constant troubles would be enough to turn any rational, intelligent being away. That even those who know me would suddenly say, Ok, Rach! You're just too much for me now! But no. My friends don't do that.
Astonishing.
So, as these breakthroughs continue to come, I realize that I can relax into whatever situation I find myself in. I've got a few people hanging out that really care. And it puts everything into perspective. The world is a dizzying place. For me during these past two years, the world has been somewhat hard to handle, scary, and challenging. I've done things I wish I hadn't, I've done things I never imagined I could do, and I've become a person that I'm not sure I ever thought I'd be. I'm lightyears away from anything I ever intended for myself. I'm also very happy in many ways. And when I sit back and reflect on that happiness, I see the faces of my friends, of Jacob, my siblings, and my family. But mostly, here in Oxford, I see my friends. Each of them (and, of course, Jacob) is making my crazy life doable. And no matter how much I screw it up, they somehow still find love to give to me.
And isn't that the most profound breakthrough of all?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Inaguration of Barack Obama
Live coverage of Barack becoming president... how much better can it get? Thank you, Hulu! I'll be watching this between class and seeing a client today. This is truly a momentous occasion in history. In the midst of all the stressful, painful things that are happening in my life and the world over, THIS day and THIS man can make us all smile. I'm ready for a big change. So ready.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Fortune Cookies
Why don't fortune cookies ACTUALLY give you a fortune? Huh? Is that so hard to ask for? I mean, they are called FORTUNE cookies. The least they could do is give a fortune. I have to say, I'm getting really sick and tired of cracking open those delicious little cookies only to find some dumb proverb printed on it. "The secret to happiness is an open heart" or "Too many people spend their lives reading the menu instead of enjoying the feast." It's crap! I want a freaking fortune!
It almost makes me not even want to order that mouth watering sweet and sour chicken. Almost...
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Happies
Sometimes when I want to talk about things that make me happy, I call these things my "happies." Not sure where I got that from (it sounds an awful lot like something Jacob might say), but it's cute and silly so I like it. I was reflecting on things I'm thankful for, since it's Thanksgiving and all, and I thought... hm, these are my happies for the year!
Before I list some of these happies, I'd like to just mention that while I'm writing about all the wonderful things in my life, there are nearly a hundred people dead in Mumbai. Terrorists have targeted US and British citizens in this part of India and the damage is horriffic. It would be rude and careless of me not to at least make mention of this unimaginable devistation on a day like today. My list thus starts with being thankful for and happy about being here, in America, where even though much is wrong and unfair, I do not worry about my own safety and well-being. My heart hurts for those that have been targeted or have died merciless and senseless deaths at the hands of terrorists, biggots... the list could go on.
After that, my list of happies continues... I have happies for Jacob and the love we created together and the family we are about to start, my parents that are always supportive of me (how I got so lucky, I don't know!), siblings that can drive me crazy but I know still love me, an education that I was afforded and never take for granted, a home that smells of Jacob's good cookin' almost every day, a car that runs like a gem, enough money in my pocket to make it, warm socks on my feet right now, a host of the world's best people as my friends, the snow on the ground at home in Akron, the sunshine today (finally!), Jacob's family - my soon to be in-laws - that I love so much, the new scarf and gloves my mom gave me yesterday, the notion that this semester is just about over, the idea that I have fingernails and how bad life would be if I didn't have them, the same kind of sentiment toward teeth and limbs and digits, the clean water I drink daily, the warm showers I take daily, the cell phone I use to stay in touch, the cool computer that makes life easier, the ability to enjoy silent moments, the cat named Moses that purrs when you just look at him, the other cats that I love and are getting old, my eyesight and ability to hear and taste and touch the world, the memories from France with Jacob, my books, my music, my health, my lipgloss (I have really dry, cracked lips guys...), my clothes, my shoes, my toothbrush, my...
Have I forgotten anything? Probably. But, I have lots of happies. Some big, some small, some deeply meaningful, some just plain silly. But the point is, that despite going through quite possibly the most difficult year or so of my life, I have lots of happies to celebrate. And that's the point of a day like to today. Forget stuffing yourselves silly with tryptophan and mashed carbs, take just one minute to list all your happies and see how much that fills you up.
To all of you out there that have made my life happier, I'm very thankful for you. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Before I list some of these happies, I'd like to just mention that while I'm writing about all the wonderful things in my life, there are nearly a hundred people dead in Mumbai. Terrorists have targeted US and British citizens in this part of India and the damage is horriffic. It would be rude and careless of me not to at least make mention of this unimaginable devistation on a day like today. My list thus starts with being thankful for and happy about being here, in America, where even though much is wrong and unfair, I do not worry about my own safety and well-being. My heart hurts for those that have been targeted or have died merciless and senseless deaths at the hands of terrorists, biggots... the list could go on.
After that, my list of happies continues... I have happies for Jacob and the love we created together and the family we are about to start, my parents that are always supportive of me (how I got so lucky, I don't know!), siblings that can drive me crazy but I know still love me, an education that I was afforded and never take for granted, a home that smells of Jacob's good cookin' almost every day, a car that runs like a gem, enough money in my pocket to make it, warm socks on my feet right now, a host of the world's best people as my friends, the snow on the ground at home in Akron, the sunshine today (finally!), Jacob's family - my soon to be in-laws - that I love so much, the new scarf and gloves my mom gave me yesterday, the notion that this semester is just about over, the idea that I have fingernails and how bad life would be if I didn't have them, the same kind of sentiment toward teeth and limbs and digits, the clean water I drink daily, the warm showers I take daily, the cell phone I use to stay in touch, the cool computer that makes life easier, the ability to enjoy silent moments, the cat named Moses that purrs when you just look at him, the other cats that I love and are getting old, my eyesight and ability to hear and taste and touch the world, the memories from France with Jacob, my books, my music, my health, my lipgloss (I have really dry, cracked lips guys...), my clothes, my shoes, my toothbrush, my...
Have I forgotten anything? Probably. But, I have lots of happies. Some big, some small, some deeply meaningful, some just plain silly. But the point is, that despite going through quite possibly the most difficult year or so of my life, I have lots of happies to celebrate. And that's the point of a day like to today. Forget stuffing yourselves silly with tryptophan and mashed carbs, take just one minute to list all your happies and see how much that fills you up.
To all of you out there that have made my life happier, I'm very thankful for you. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Hokay, so... I shared this with my friends on Facebook and I'll post it here as well. Think of it as my Thanksgiving present to you. It's simply too good to be true:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/11/25/ann-coulters-jaw-wired-sh_n_146248.html
Enjoy!
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/11/25/ann-coulters-jaw-wired-sh_n_146248.html
Enjoy!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I think weddings are strange
So, I'm getting hitched. Tying the knot. Taking the plunge. Getting married. And I'm over the moon at the idea of spending the rest of the life with the man I adore, cherish, and love. I love the notion of marriage (although I always spell it "marraige" and have to deal with that stupid red squiggly line every time) and have always envisioned myself as getting married. So, it's not the idea of marriage that I think is strange. It's the whole wedding thing that is strange.
Well, let me be more specific. It's the way weddings are packaged and sold to young women like me that I find strange. Take The Knot for example. This one stop online and magazine destination for all things weddings is nauseating. I'm sorry, theknot.com drives me insane. I signed up for it so that I could launch a website for me and Jake and our big day (which, is apparently the vogue thing to do these days, create a wedding website because it's gauche to list your registries on invitations but okay to do so on the website... yadda yadda). Every time I log on to that site I start to have a panic attack. First, it lists the days left until your wedding. Yikes, as if I don't feel behind enough in my planning already. Then, it sends you email checklists of things you should have done this month, which, if you are me and a graduate student, is probably going to get done whenever the hell you can fit it in between classes, teaching, grading, seeing clients, having a meltdown, etc etc. Cue the shaking of the hands as I scroll down the page. THEN, it barages you with ideas for your big day. Have you thought about what kind of reception gifts you'd like to give away? What about your hairstlye? And your rings? Have you gotten them insured yet? Oh, and have you remembered to research your ethinc and religious customs yet for the ceremony? You don't want to forget that. Oh, and don't even get me started on the constant advertising on facebook for everything from wedding photographers, stationery, and honeymoons. I just want to be left alone, thank you very much!
Holy crap, batman. It's like I could quit going to school and plan a wedding full time! And I'm thinking to myself... What did couples do before The Knot and thier incessant reminders? Were all weddings pre-The Knot total disasters? NO! They were beautiful. They were personal and charming and manageable. This is what I'm talking about. Weddings are an enterprise now and I fully hate that. It's become a day to impress your guests with how much you can spend and how much you can afford and so many women get caught up in this. Don't get me wrong, a LOT of women do not fall prey to the wedding-wild market out there. And also, I'm not knocking throwing a blow out party of a lifetime to celebrate a wonderful ritual that I believe is beautiful and meaningful and worthwhile. I just hate the constant marketing toward brides and grooms that makes us feel like we ought to be doing more in order to have a presentable wedding.
And I'm not gonna lie. The moment Jacob slipped that ring on my finger and we began thinking about our wedding day, I got all gooey and mushy and the little girl inside of me started thinking of all the pretty, flowery, gooey mushy things I could do for my wedding. And I'm happy that there are people out there that get that part of wedding planning. But I feel that many of us have lost the sentiment that weddings are supposed to represent. It's a day to publicly declare to friends and family (and God or your diety of choice or whatever) that you love someone and want to spend the rest of your life loving them. I see it very much as a time to ritualize that declaration of love and celebrate the couple's happiness AND the love and happiness of everyone in attendance. You don't need to do that with personally monogrammed napkins and a chocolate fountain for guests to bathe in. You do what you can. You do what feels right for you and then you say f*ck it to the rest.
I think weddings can be strange. I thinkI think they can also be wonderful displays of love and that each and every human being on this planet, no matter who they are (screw Prop8), should be able to enjoy having. I guess, in the end, who am I to complain. I have a great family that is supportive of what Jacob and I want and are willing to provide us with what they can. It'll be a wonderful day that I know I'll never forget. But really, what I'm most looking forward to after the dress has been worn, the cake devoured, and the flowers withered, is the life I spend with the man I adore. And honestly, that's all that matters.
Well, let me be more specific. It's the way weddings are packaged and sold to young women like me that I find strange. Take The Knot for example. This one stop online and magazine destination for all things weddings is nauseating. I'm sorry, theknot.com drives me insane. I signed up for it so that I could launch a website for me and Jake and our big day (which, is apparently the vogue thing to do these days, create a wedding website because it's gauche to list your registries on invitations but okay to do so on the website... yadda yadda). Every time I log on to that site I start to have a panic attack. First, it lists the days left until your wedding. Yikes, as if I don't feel behind enough in my planning already. Then, it sends you email checklists of things you should have done this month, which, if you are me and a graduate student, is probably going to get done whenever the hell you can fit it in between classes, teaching, grading, seeing clients, having a meltdown, etc etc. Cue the shaking of the hands as I scroll down the page. THEN, it barages you with ideas for your big day. Have you thought about what kind of reception gifts you'd like to give away? What about your hairstlye? And your rings? Have you gotten them insured yet? Oh, and have you remembered to research your ethinc and religious customs yet for the ceremony? You don't want to forget that. Oh, and don't even get me started on the constant advertising on facebook for everything from wedding photographers, stationery, and honeymoons. I just want to be left alone, thank you very much!
Holy crap, batman. It's like I could quit going to school and plan a wedding full time! And I'm thinking to myself... What did couples do before The Knot and thier incessant reminders? Were all weddings pre-The Knot total disasters? NO! They were beautiful. They were personal and charming and manageable. This is what I'm talking about. Weddings are an enterprise now and I fully hate that. It's become a day to impress your guests with how much you can spend and how much you can afford and so many women get caught up in this. Don't get me wrong, a LOT of women do not fall prey to the wedding-wild market out there. And also, I'm not knocking throwing a blow out party of a lifetime to celebrate a wonderful ritual that I believe is beautiful and meaningful and worthwhile. I just hate the constant marketing toward brides and grooms that makes us feel like we ought to be doing more in order to have a presentable wedding.
And I'm not gonna lie. The moment Jacob slipped that ring on my finger and we began thinking about our wedding day, I got all gooey and mushy and the little girl inside of me started thinking of all the pretty, flowery, gooey mushy things I could do for my wedding. And I'm happy that there are people out there that get that part of wedding planning. But I feel that many of us have lost the sentiment that weddings are supposed to represent. It's a day to publicly declare to friends and family (and God or your diety of choice or whatever) that you love someone and want to spend the rest of your life loving them. I see it very much as a time to ritualize that declaration of love and celebrate the couple's happiness AND the love and happiness of everyone in attendance. You don't need to do that with personally monogrammed napkins and a chocolate fountain for guests to bathe in. You do what you can. You do what feels right for you and then you say f*ck it to the rest.
I think weddings can be strange. I thinkI think they can also be wonderful displays of love and that each and every human being on this planet, no matter who they are (screw Prop8), should be able to enjoy having. I guess, in the end, who am I to complain. I have a great family that is supportive of what Jacob and I want and are willing to provide us with what they can. It'll be a wonderful day that I know I'll never forget. But really, what I'm most looking forward to after the dress has been worn, the cake devoured, and the flowers withered, is the life I spend with the man I adore. And honestly, that's all that matters.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
An Ode to NyQuil
Oh, NyQuil, how I adore thee. You maketh me to slumber and suppress my horrid cough. Your taste may be vomitituous but your effect is glorious. One tiny vile of thine elixir brings only a much longed-for, dream-filled night. Ah, NyQuil. Thy name is like a song. A sweet lullabye that coaxes my eyelids to fall and mine nose to cease sniffling. Oh, NyQuil, my little green NyQuil... Thou presence maketh me quite sure that God does truly want me to be happy.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Not sure yet...
Whoa. First post. There's a lot of pressure here. Well, I've decided to use this post to explain that I have no real intentions for this blog other than as an all-purpose receptacle for my thoughts, observations, and ramblings.
As for now, I'm thinking that I should get back to work and close up the Clinic so that I can head home to snuggle with J.
[What a lousy first post.... I promise to do better next time.]
As for now, I'm thinking that I should get back to work and close up the Clinic so that I can head home to snuggle with J.
[What a lousy first post.... I promise to do better next time.]
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