second set of baby steps: books

Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Sunday, April 27, 2014

all good things: two hands, one beating heart

All Good Things started as a one-hour Sunday night radio show on KSTO St. Olaf radio, featuring feel-good music and 10 highlights from the past week. The show, and its current written form, is brought to you by Clara, Second Set of Baby Steps creator, and my radio co-host Cassie. We both contribute things to the list, so I'll tell you who said what to avoid confusion.

So set yourself up outside and enjoy this week's good things in the sun!

1. Song of the week: Girls Chase Boys by Ingrid Michaelson. This one's dedicated to my roommate Katy, whose birthday was this week. She has been playing the song on repeat all weekend, while we prepped for the party and then cleaned up after it. I already love Ingrid Michaelson, but this song is such a feel-good anthem, catchy, poppy, upbeat... and the video is so great too. Obsessed. - Clara

2. My dad gave up his whole Saturday to fix our faucet. The levers on our bathroom sink faucet have been missing since we moved in, which makes it incredibly hard to turn the water on and off when your hands are wet and soapy and slippery. We bought some knobs to try and screw on there, but it didn't work, so my dad spent his entire Saturday running around, finding parts, and installing a brand-new faucet for us. We already knew he was da bomb, but really. This is just beyond awesome. - Clara

3. Nora Lee's French Quarter Bistro. J took me out to Old New Castle for date night this week, and we went to this excellent, pretty legit New Orleans-style restaurant. We drank Abita and ate blackened cajun everything, salmon and tuna and jambalaya and hush puppies. YUM. - Clara

4. Sunday morning breakfast. Luke and I had a lot of moving left to do from our old place today so we decided to get up early and head out to breakfast. We went to Turtle Bread, our favorite neighborhood spot. I had some amazing french toast, and Luke had salmon scramble. It was such a relaxing way to start a day of moving. Also, I'm still full 5 hours later so that's never bad either. - Cassie

5. Rainy afternoons. Now that I have a dog, I'm not such a huge fan of rainy days. It involves lots of wet dog problems that are sort of annoying. BUT, there really is something about a rainy afternoon where the smell of the falling rain wafts in through the window while a Harry Potter marathon plays on ABC family and I sip a homemade latte. Hard to have negative feelings during those moments! - Cassie

6. Hosting family. Luke and I had his parents over to stay for Easter weekend. I was pretty stressed going into it. We have a one-bedroom apartment, Luke's mom doesn't like dogs, and we were also having everyone in his family over for dinner on Friday night. Despite all my anxiety, things went really well! Everyone had a great time, and I really enjoyed having them stay here. - Cassie

7. Having my books with me in the new apartment. During the move we decided books didn't need to be moved right away so we left them behind for the time being. We finally moved them to our new place, and I didn't realize how much I missed them! They add so much color and life to our apartment. - Cassie

8. NOT being on reality TV. My friend Marina and I discovered a terrible reality show this week called BridalPlasty, which gathers 10 women into a house and makes them vote each other out, one by one. That's bad enough, but what they're competing for is a full-body plastic surgery makeover and a celebrity dream wedding completely paid for. Along the way they get to have minor procedures done, and have Botox parties. The one episode we watched was full of lines like, "Who doesn't want to have a few nips and tucks?" Me. I don't. I'm good, thanks. And I'm super thankful that I'm happy with my body just the way it is. - Clara

9. Divergent by Veronica Roth. This is our latest book club selection (which I would have tried to read even if we hadn't chosen it for discussion) and I just finished it this afternoon! So good. Can't wait to get my hands on the second book... - Clara

10. Friends you can work with and play with. Last night we had a bunch of people over, people we met at different places and do different things with. Some we work with and/or work out with and/or hang out with. It was cool getting everybody together in the same place with some shared interests (food, drinks, and games) and when I went to church the next morning I saw some of the people that were there and we got to exchange knowing glances the whole time. Lots of good people in my life. - Clara

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Thank you, readers, for being with us tonight, and for giving me reasons to write, and things to write about.

And thanks for joining us every Sunday night! Join the Baby Steps on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/TheBabyStepsSaga for good things every day, and updates on new posts. Come back next week for another reminder of 10 more things to be thankful for!

Until then, be kind to each other, and find a reason to smile!

posted from Bloggeroid

Sunday, December 22, 2013

all good things: the fourth candle

4. Holiday parties. Wednesday was our work party in Philly, which is always fun. I work with really smart, interesting people so it's good to spend some non-working time with them. And then last night was the first holiday party of the year (officially ending my birthday season) and it was a lovely gathering of lovely people, in a house that smelled like Christmas spices. We also did a girls' lunch today, and the church Christmas pageant this afternoon, and roomie Christmas tonight. The next week and a half will be full of more parties and festivities and I am so excited for it all.

5. RadioLab this afternoon. RadioLab is this psychology show on NPR on Sunday afternoons, and I nerd out to it as often as I can. Today they were talking about hero psychology, what makes people risk their lives to help other people. I was totally captivated, but I literally felt a weight off my shoulders when the guy who runs the Carnegie Hero Fund said this: "We are fortunate to be living in a society, regardless of what you might hear elsewhere, we are fortunate to be living in a society where people do look out for others, even strangers."

6. Football in the snow. Watching the Steelers play Green Bay in the snow today was somehow so magical. And it looks very cold. And it's bizarre, when it's been over 70 degrees here for the past two days...

7. The dress came just in time! My bridesmaid dress for the wedding this Saturday was snatched off my porch last month, so it had to be reordered from the style that was in stock at the designer in China. We weren't sure it was going to come in time, but it turned up on Thursday - with barely enough time to get it altered before Christmas. Phew! Crisis averted.

8. Being done Christmas shopping. J and I are pretty much done with our shopping, and done wrapping too!

To be clear, I am done wrapping. I wrapped all the gifts, because if he did it they would all be in DSW bags with no tissue paper.

9. Reading. I have been making a point of reading lately, since I got Ender's Game from the library. So far it's awesome. Also, since we finished reading Big Fish together we haven't been reading, but just yesterday J picked up the Chronicles of Narnia (a Christmas gift from last year) so we're reading that now and I think I'm enjoying it even more this time than I did the first time I read it.

10. Happy holiday encounters. This year I have so far not come face-to-face with stressed-out thoughtless people in holiday zombie mode; on the contrary, I have had one pleasant encounter after another. (Knock on wood...) I am determined to make it to the new year this way: may good cheer abound!

posted from Bloggeroid

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

7 ways to get ahead of the sad

The days are getting shorter, colder, and darker, and maybe that explains why the other day I caught myself in a semi-perpetual state of irritation. This happens every year and I like to think that every year I get better at coping. A list of ways to get ahead of the SAD season seems like an appropriate post for today.

1. Cry intentionally about things that don't matter. This may sound counterintuitive, but hear me out. The other day I sat down to finish The Five People You Meet In Heaven (destined to have some sad parts in it) and ended up crying pretty much straight through the last two chapters. It was beautiful. And I felt so much better afterward! Lighter. Of course, it helped that the message of the book was not a depressing one. It was about love and human connection. Which is something worth crying about, if you ask me.

2. Find something to smile about. I don't mean just smile, but think of something that legitimately makes you happy. There is an urban legend that simply smiling is a mood booster, but I recently read a study showing that smiling for a reason is much more effective at bringing you closer to true happiness. Besides, we've all seen Peter Pan, right?

3. Indulge your guilty pleasures - just a little bit. This could be anything: romance novels, Miley Cyrus, chocolate... Enjoy something you really enjoy, guilt-free. Not to the point that it makes you feel gross, but just enough now and then to make you smile.

4. Exercise. This is a pretty common one, but I can't stress enough how much it actually does help. Get into a routine. Find a class that makes you feel good. Of course I recommend BodyCombat, if you find yourself often frustrated; or Zumba - "ditch the workout and party!" Set goals for yourself, especially if they're small, because achieving something always makes you feel good. And once you add in the natural endorphins and carving out time to do something you like, that's a triple boost.

5. Get out your slippers! They'd better be soft! Line up your fuzzy slippers, robe, hoodie, flannel and fleece! (I should have added Snuggies to the guilty pleasures list!) Get out your warm things. Wear whatever make you feel cozy, fabrics you like to feel next to your skin. Get out your baby blankets and Grandma afghans and gigantic comforters and fleece throws. You can't let your body be cold if you want to keep your mind and your heart warm.

6. Take alone time. Don't let yourself be afraid of being by yourself. You need to have time to breathe. That being said, fresh air doesn't hurt either. Take a solo stroll, or a drive, maybe. I went grocery shopping by myself the other day and it felt ridiculously liberating. Read a book. Have a cup of tea. Write letters. Plug in your headphones on the treadmill. Or just take a nap. But set a timer; don't let yourself get into that place where the sun goes down and suddenly you look around and realize you're all by your lonesome. It starts to feel real dark right about then.

And that brings me to...

7. Make dates. Make sure you look somebody in the eye, give a hug, exchange pleasantries or have a good conversation, at least once a day. Make plans to visit someone who lives a little father away. We need human connections to get by, and making dates gives you something to look forward to. I guess I should also add that it's crucial to be around people who lift you up, make you laugh, make you feel good about yourself and about the world. No room for Debbie Downers and Negative Nancys and Pessimistic Pollys this time of year. Pollyannas might not be the best thing either, actually. The best thing is someone who knows you and accepts all your sides, dark and light, and understands your world.

It takes a lot of effort for me to stay positive year-round, and I know I'm not the only one. I get scared and anxious and I get scared and anxious about being scared and anxious. But I'm figuring out what I can do to make it better, smoother, no matter what month it is, no matter how many hours of daylight turn my face to the sky.

posted from Bloggeroid

Sunday, October 27, 2013

all good things: gold-gilded days

All Good Things is a weekly feature on the blog. It started as a one-hour Sunday night radio show on KSTO St. Olaf radio, featuring feel-good music and 10 highlights from the past week. The show, and its current written form, is brought to you by Clara, Second Set of Baby Steps creator, and my radio co-host Cassie. Sit back and enjoy!

There are almost too many good things to count this week. I had a hard time choosing list items. But that's good, right?

1. Song of the week: Counting Stars by One Republic. My sister posted this song on Facebook earlier this week and it's been in and out of my head ever since. Plus, the video is beautiful and gives me the chills.

2. When worlds collide. After Monday morning power yoga, one of the regulars looked at my St. Olaf T-shirt and said with a knowing grin, "Minnesota, eh?" It took me so off guard that I accidentally yelled, "You know it!?" Way too loud and excited for the end of a yoga class. Also I wasn't quite sure even at the time whether it was a question or a cheer...

3. Leftovers (Mom cooking). I am a fine cook, but I think we all know there is nothing like a good dinner cooked by our moms and then packed up and sent home for leftover lunches.

4. Delaware, Small Blunder... Wonder! Small Wonder. This is one of J.'s and his dad's favorite jokes. Somehow it never gets old. There are plenty of jokes about Delaware. Among them, the One Degree of Separation. I went to a networking event this week hosted by the county's top radio stations - immediately ran into someone I knew, and heard a lot of familiar names throughout the night. It's a small state and I actually like that.

5. Surprises. My dad made cinnamon rolls on Monday night and forgot to send them home with me; so my mom dropped off a tupperware full of them on my porch for me to find when I got home from work.

6. Swype. I don't know how I've missed this 'til now, but I discovered a feature on my smartphone where I can just drag my finger around the keyboard and it automatically spells words for me. It's like a super-modern T9. Makes typing very speedy. I am obsessed.

7. The Five People You Meet In Heaven. Another book from Mitch Albom, the author of Tuesdays With Morrie. It is a quick read, or would be, if I used my free moments for reading. I polished it off this weekend, with no shortage of tears, but it is beautiful and inspiring and makes you think about your life, but not too hard. I love that Mitch Albom went from being a sports writer to easily the most recognized writer about life and death in the United States. A topic of endless fascination to me.

8. Bonfires. A bunch of us gathered in my parents' backyard on Friday night for a bonfire. Aside from the fact that I inadvertently told three separate people to bring hot dogs and rolls (we had probably a few hundred for less than 15 people), it was a lovely evening. The weather was crisp and cold, the fire was warm, the cider was spicy,

9. Dressing up. Last night was the Halloween Loop, easily one of Wilmington's most renowned events of the year. It's basically a pub crawl, at least in theory - as it turns out the best way to hit it is to go out early, pick a place and stay there. People get pretty creative with costumes. We had a bunch of people over beforehand, and some of us went all out with our costumes. We made a fun group, and there were plenty of wild and wicked costumes out in the bars and the streets to keep my eyes occupied.

10. Fall weather. I love fall, and this week has been the epitome of what's great about it. All golden slanting sunlight bouncing off golden leaves in the trees and falling from them; those crisp mornings, hot in the middle of the day but with a breeze; smells like fall in the afternoon and like winter at night. Gorgeous. I just want to walk everywhere.

I may be cheating, but I also want to say a quick congratulations to J.'s brother and his fiancee, who got engaged recently! We have been celebrating them lately, so I felt like now was the time to shout out on the blog. So much love in the air!

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Thanks for joining us this Sunday night! Stick with me on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/TheBabyStepsSaga for updates on new posts and other stuff about new adulthood. Come back next Sunday night for a reminder of 10 good things that haven't happened yet, and on Wednesday night for a more in-depth reflection on post-grad life. Until then, be kind to each other, and find a reason to smile.

posted from Bloggeroid

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

consequences

Good Thing #4 on Sunday was J.K. Rowling's first adult novel, The Casual Vacancy. Since Sunday I have finished this book, and I have to update my recommendation.

I still say the book was excellent. J.K. Rowling has always had a sixth sense for details, which is largely what made the Harry Potter series so compelling, in characters, plot, and setting. In this latest book, the details did most to build characters and their relationships with each other.

She writes people so well. She writes teenagers to a T, which I think is hard to do without cheapening them as human beings and as characters, and she gets into the inner workings of adult minds and motivations as well. And, I think most brilliantly, she packages up so perfectly the complexity of everyone's emotions and motivations and the way they all tangle together to create situations, in all their awkward, dream-like glory.

All of this truth gets a little heavy and rough at times throughout the book, but right at the end, between page three-hundred-and-whatever and the end of the book, between now and Sunday, she just clobbers the readers with sad. I had heard when I first started reading that the book was depressing, and I didn't really believe it, and I still wouldn't personally call it depressing... But I must mention this disclaimer, that the book is really dramatically sad. And also that I loved it anyway. It made me think, but not too hard.

On Monday of this week I went out for dinner with my parents, and we talked about relationships. There has been a lot of relationship talk lately: how love distorts our decisions, and how our responses elicit certain responses from other people, and other things that would take days to relay to you. I will mention briefly that, on Monday night, the main agenda item was Jason moving in with me.

Now, despite the fact that I have always been fairly independent, and that I definitely am developing my own life now, and that I truly believe that my parents would accept me and love me no matter what... This is a scary conversation to have. It's also one I want to have with them, because they are pretty smart and have a lot of life experiences and, as much as I might not like to admit sometimes, they do know me extraordinarily well.

I won't go into a lot of detail, but the sum of the conversation was something along these lines: "Your actions have consequences, and you have to live with them one way or another, and we don't want anybody to get hurt."

Pretty amazing. Did I mention my parents are really smart and really cool?

Anyway, this isn't really anything new to me, since that has been, more or less, the gist of every "tough" conversation I've had with my parents ever (and a lot of the less tough ones too). Your actions have consequences. This is a fact I am all too familiar with.

Among the other things I've learned in my relatively few years: I can know things, and I can be 110% prepared, and I can have thought out the possible consequences of my every action hundreds of times (paying more attention to the details than J.K. Rowling herself)... And I can still be surprised, caught off guard, thrown for a loop, mentally and emotionally destroyed by an outcome to a situation. The degree of destruction caused by life's little curveballs has tended to decrease over time, because I learn from my mistakes and I learn how resilient I am and that I can recover from most everything that comes my way on a regular basis. (Knock on wood...)

All that being said, I can't go around letting the Fear of the Unknown keep me from doing things... So I go on. Sometimes recklessly, but mostly with a deeply-instilled awareness of what will happen if I...

A conversation with a friend after last week's post reminded me how big the decision-making topic actually is, and how relatively little of it I covered in the post. I think choosing and deciding is a particularly large and poignant topic for those of us who are just out of college, 1 year, 2 years out. And, I'm sure, it is monumental also for our parents, recent empty-nesters who are faced suddenly with a forced opportunity to rediscover themselves.

At this point our first jobs and appointments and living arrangements are running out or perhaps wearing thin, or we are suddenly presented with new jobs or positions or appointments. (Sidenote: look for a guest post soon about the year of service. The ultimate bookended post-grad arrangement.) We may be starting or finishing another round of school. Our relationships are changing. (How many of my friends are married or engaged or pregnant or now posting pictures of their babies all over the social networks -- I am too young for this, I insist!) Or we are moving in, or moving out (in with our significant others, out from our parents' houses).

And I will speak for myself and say that, to me, as I near the 2-year mark at my first "real" position, the possibilities loom with even more intimidating shadows labeled, "The Rest of Your Life." And all my decisions and their consequences bear labels and disclaimers warning me that this next thing, or, in some cases, this now thing, could be forever.

That's huge. It's like how we, as 17-year-olds, chose colleges that in many ways shaped our destinies and our identities. At 23, 24, we are trying to project who we are now onto who we want to be, and who it looks like we are turning out to be, and do they line up? Are we compatible with our dreams?

I do still believe in dreams, even though I see mine now as though through a fishtank, or in a funhouse mirror. I will answer my own question: I am 23. I have no idea. I don't know what I will be dealt in the next few months and years, and I have at best a rough sketch of the cards I will deal myself. I'm just trying to be straight-up with myself and the the people around me, and put out good into the world, and be smart without committing hubris, and believe that I will handle my choices and their consequences with grace and wisdom.

And if I mess up, I'll deal with that too.

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Like second set of baby steps on Facebook at www.facebook.com/theBabyStepsSaga! New posts show up there first, plus other articles about post-grad life, plus teasers and other important information. Thanks for reading! Tune in on Sunday night for this week's All Good Things list, and next Wednesday for more reflections on being a "new adult."

Monday, August 12, 2013

all good things: sun and sea and good food

All Good Things is a weekly feature on the blog. It started as a one-hour Sunday night radio show on KSTO St. Olaf radio, featuring feel-good music and 10 highlights from the past week. The show, and its current written form, is brought to you by Clara, Second Set of Baby Steps creator, and her radio co-host Cassie.

1. Song of the week: 2am by Slightly Stoopid. Not my favorite band name ever, but the song has been our Zumba cool down song for the past few weeks and it's got a good groove.

2. Patron XO. Jason's parents recently went to Mexico and brought back bottles of this delicious coffee tequila for their sons. Fortunately Jason has been generous enough to share it with me. My favorite way to imbibe it is over ice cream. Yummm!

3. Deep fried Oreos. The best Boardwalk dessert; the kind of thing you look forward to all day long.

4. The Casual Vacancy, J.K. Rowlings' first adult novel. It's about a tiny town in England and all the political and social drama among its inhabitants. I've talked to a few people who started reading this and gave up when it became clear that there is no magic in it. But I stuck with it, charmed by the details (always a forte of hers in Harry Potter) and, now somewhere around page 300, I'm having a hard time putting it down.

5. Chicken madras. On Wednesday Jason and I ended up going to Maharaja for dinner. Last time we went there we got the entrees with hot spice and I couldn't even eat the food-- impressive, when most Indian restaurants stateside tone it down incredibly. Anyway, we learned our lesson and had recovered enough to go back. And we had mango lassi, garlic naan, aloo palak, and chicken madras, which wins dinner this week especially since I wasn't convinced at first that I even wanted it. Another lesson learned.

6. Wildwood. As I write this I am on my way back from the Jersey Shore with my "roommates." We just spent Saturday and Sunday on the beach, napping and swimming and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and trying not to let the seagulls at 'em. So relaxing, and good girl time. Also, the sand there is so much finer than the sand at the Delaware beaches... Which is good in some ways ( it doesn't get quite as churned up in the waves, for example) but that also means it clings to things and silts into cracks and crevices.

7. Zumba! Katy and I went to zumba twice this week with our favorite instructor. And on Thursday we found out that she will no longer be teaching at the Y! That part is not a good thing, but it does make me not take it for granted. It's just such a fun reason to be super sweaty!

8. Wawa. Stopping at Wawa for breakfast to kick off a road trip has become a bit of a tradition lately. The bagels are just so good! So are most things at Wawa, actually. Hoagiefest is something I am a huge fan of as well. 12-inch subs for $4.79? Yes please!

9. How I Met Your Mother (a.k.a. HIMYM). The modern version of Friends. So funny. So current and relatable. Jason and I are currently in the middle of rewatching the whole series while we wait for season 8 to come out on DVD/Netflix. I just bought season 3 (since we don't actually have internet at home).

10. Good conversations with interesting people. I went out for happy hour on Friday with Jason and a bunch of people he used to work with, all of whom I liked a lot. Good people, warm and welcoming. I also love how my horizons are expanded every time I meet someone new.

Like second set of baby steps on Facebook at www.facebook.com/theBabyStepsSaga! New posts show up there first, plus other articles about post-grad life, plus teasers and other important information. Thanks for reading! And have a good week!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

pressing questions of a word nerd

I want to run something by you guys.

Months ago, I read an article on PRdaily.com called How to improve your writing in 15 minutes. I read articles like this because they keep my wordcrafting muscles toned and agile, and sometimes there are good tips. (Tip for my fellow writer friends: PRdaily has a lot of good articles about writing, so if you want to stay sharp, check out their writing exercises and word-nerd features.)

Anyway, leave it to me to get more out of the example than out of the article itself. I got hooked on the example topic: "How to become a better communicator." In particular, the third talking point under step 1, "Read often so you're able to speak confidently about a number of topics."

At the time it struck me that I OD'ed on this in college, being able to speak confidently on tons of different topics, because at any given time I was taking 3-4 classes in which that was how we spent our time: reading (or in my case, "reading") lots of books and articles, and talking about them.

Actually, I've been doing this my whole life. My lifelong book addiction hooked me up with a love of language, an outlandish vocabulary, an atrophic social life up to age 14, the most random pockets of expertise you can imagine, and something to contribute to almost any conversation. The difference has been mainly what I read. As a 6-year-old, it was Babysitter's Little Sister; at 8 I devoured Encyclopedia Brown; the summer before middle school I burned through the juvenile fiction and into the YA section at my local library, and then housed Harry Potter interspersed with the entire bibliographies of Madeleine L'Engle and Philip Pullman, and the misadventures of Georgia Nicolson, until I graduated high school. In college it was a lot of heavy academic stuff, philosophy and social theory and ethnographies (a genre I still get jazzed about even though most academic literature makes me gag and pass out).

Now? I read PRdaily meta-articles about writing. I read post-grad and travel blogs. I read vampire novels bought as a ploy to get me to go on dates with coffeeshop crushes. I read Facebook terms and advertising guidelines, New York Times and Huff Post articles about the impending apocalypse, and interview tips. And I read the nerdiest book you would have never heard about if Borders hadn't gone out of business and madly sold their entire inventory for $2.

It's called The Great Typo Hunt and it's about two dudes who go on a Pan-American road trip documenting and correcting typos in the name of better communication across the nation.

Yes, I'll be the first to admit what a honking big word nerd I am.

So a few weeks ago I was sitting in my car on my lunch break, reading this book, and I thought, "This is pretty good for a mediocre book." And then I realized what I had just thought and my head snapped up. I am loving this book. It makes me laugh out loud on a fairly regular basis, and I've actually had to close it a few times on something that blew my mind so I couldn't focus on reading anymore, and I needed to process it for a few days before picking the book back up. Also, I kind of love travel writing. Holy Cow!: An Indian Adventure, for example, or Eat Pray Love, in spite of all the criticism. (Yes, those are Goodreads links. Feel free to friend me.)

So why would I file it away in my mind as "mediocre"?

In that moment, I decided I put it there for its obscurity. The fact that I didn't hear about it through the grapevine, and in fact I had never heard about it before, and didn't know anyone else who had read it either. I couldn't talk about this book. It would be complicated to reference in conversation because I would have to explain the whole principle, or give a synopsis and include a link to its webpage if I wanted to mention it in a blog post.

Is it prior text status that takes a book from mediocre or good to great? Does the shared experience of having read some 300 pages, the shared familiarity with characters and plotlines and settings, make a book a favorite? Is this why we recommend books to fellow lit-lovers? So we can talk about them, and thus bump the book we enjoyed into greatness, among the monuments of our formative experiences?

Tell me what you think. I'm dying to be back at school to be around people that like talking about such things, but I'm not. So PLEASE hit me up with thoughts and comments.

"There's 2 parties in here, and us.
...We're a party. Let's be honest."

Meanwhile, I will mention that I spent Sunday in Philly's Chinatown in search of flaming drinks, lotto tickets, fortune cookies, and a great birthday for my girl Kristy. We found all of those things. Like a boss.

Also, my phone (i.e. my life in device form) decided to go swimming in the cat bowl on Monday, and I've just now turned it on after a 2-day rice bath. It's just graced my ears with a symphony of message alerts, so here's hoping there will be photos in future posts.

Though I will never admit this if you ask me in conversation, my life is never boring.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

8 or more things making me happy

Yesterday I discovered a weekly talk radio show called Pop Culture Happy Hour on NPR. Fortunately since I’ve never heard it before there are literally YEARS’ worth of past happy hours for me to listen to, so I’ve been scrolling back to listen to the incredibly intelligent crew discussing trendy cultural tidbits in a way that reminds me more than a little of my liberal arts education.

Each show ends with a segment about what's making them happy this week. Something pop culture-related, of course. It vaguely reminds me of All Good Things, the KSTO radio show I hosted last year with my girl Cassie, in which we played feel-good music and ad-libbed our list of the week’s Top 10 All Good Things. Sometimes serious, often totally random, but always an exercise in not taking things for granted, in picking out the silver lining even of the toughest weeks, and a reminder to enjoy life always.

I have missed this show, and missed Cassie, so often since May. And from time to time I feel that nagging urge to make that list.

But today, the urge is driving me to distraction, and I am unavoidably inspired to host my own Pop Culture What's-Making-Me-Happy Give-or-Take-an-Hour.

The show is first on my list, since I have not stopped listening to it for 2 days (except to watch a video of Sophia Grace and Rosie’s return to The Ellen Show), and since I love pop culture, and intelligent people discussing pop culture. Also, people laughing a lot and un-self-consciously. They have really good laughs, too--good the way Audrey and Karin and I just feed off each other's really contagious laughter forever. And just positive energy in general. Here's a good episode (2012 pop culture resolutions) to get hooked on.

Sisterhood Everlasting. Since my original mention I have actually started reading this book, and it’s been, true to form, un-put-downable. I can’t honestly say the book is a happy book, and I also can’t say that I haven’t cried or felt my throat close up at least a few times, and in fact it’s a really sad book so far. But it’s deeply evocative, and when I think about it, any real depth of emotion qualifies as happiness for me. There is something beautiful about empathy, about allowing myself to be touched by the world, which maybe neurologically is no more than a thrill, a hit of brain chemicals, but to me feels like being happy.

California 37. You may have realized that I. LOVE. TRAIN. And I am not ashamed of this fact. I've had this album on some degree of repeat since I bought it on Saturday, and I think it may be my favorite Train album ever. Speaking of pop culture, the album features an incredible array of pop culture references; "This'll Be My Year," which people are calling a reprise of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" (except less tiresome to listen to); "Bruises," a collaboration with Ashley Monroe about the occupational hazards of living; and "You Can Meet My Mom," which just makes me really happy.

#4
Today is Poem In Your Pocket Day, and there's an exhilarating melee going on around the #pocketpoem hashtag on Twitter. It makes me want to Twitter-jam, bad.

collage beginnings

Anyway, probably not one single person will be surprised to learn that my #pocketpoem is "i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)" by e.e.cummings. I'm sure I could finagle some horrible wordplay about carrying poems in pockets out of that line, but I will spare you. I also have a line-by-line collage representation of this beloved piece in the works, but it's not done yet.

My fellow poet and Soc/Anthro major Julia may have stumped this holiday, though: "I dunno if I can fit 'howl' in my pocket..."

Asha, age 4

#5
Today my baby sister turns sixteen.

Yeah. Sixteen.

It's hard to believe. I swear I look at her (and Maria) every day and get surprised at how big, and grown-up, and mature they are. And hilarious. And beautiful, and smart as hell... The list goes on! If there is one reason I'm glad I moved home this year (and there are many) it is that the time I'm getting to spend with my sisters is priceless. I even enjoy picking them up from school or dropping them off somewhere, or hitting up the mall together on a Saturday. I value the opportunities I have gotten to share my experiences with them, and to hear about the things they struggle with and the things that make them happy.

It is a great joy and responsibility to be a big sister, and despite my complaining, I wouldn't give it up for the world. And I wouldn't trade my sissies for any other sissies. So don't even ask.

#6
The unbelievably delicious chocolate chip cookies Asha made to take to school for her own birthday. They are so good, and I love how she loves to bake. And also it reminds me of the time last year when Timmy got up at 8:00am on Lutefest to make himself a very, very chocolate birthday cake. There is something bittersweet (but very tasty) about this style of self-celebration. Something important, I think, something poignant with a Dust-Bowl-vignette quality to it. I can’t say it’s sad because both Timmy and Asha have plenty of people who will gladly share their baked goods, and more importantly their company, but almost.

#7
As of tonight, my brother will be home from school for the summer! I'm pumped. He's got a sweet summer job using some of his architecture skills, and I'm hoping to take him out and introduce him to people--and maybe even meet some new ones! OK, I'll be honest: I'm secretly plotting how to make him fall in love with Delaware too. Plus, I just love him. He's my first best friend and we've been in cahoots for almost 21 years now.

#8
Oranges. (Is anyone surprised?) I've had one for lunch every day this week, and every day I look forward to the orange at the bottom of my lunch bag. It makes my fingers sticky but I love the smell of them and I hate the color orange but somehow I love it when it's on the fruit. It's so bright and cheerful. I love how juicy they are, how sweetly tart. I love peeling them, both intrinsically and in anticipation of what's to come. I love the texture, and how they're naturally packaged in little bite-sized pieces. I love what I remember about them, and the people they remind me of. I love vitamin C. And for a whole host of other reasons I probably couldn't even begin to name or recognize, oranges just make me really, simply, bottom-of-my-heart happy.

Note the absence of oranges in this fruit bowl
(I have eaten them all)

Monday, April 23, 2012

scavengers

I spent yesterday--chilly, damp day that it was--blazing through the first book of The Hunger Games (written by Suzanne Collins, for future reference).

Let me first say I haven't been that taken by a book since The Help this summer. And before that, probably re-reading the Harry Potter series over the summer of 2009. This is one of those books whose writer is naturally gifted enough not to agonize over the craft of the language, which makes it easy to read, but not painful like some books whose writers have a knack for plot but just suck at writing. I would give you an example but I'm finding I must have blocked them all from my memory. I'll let you know if I think of one you might be familiar with.

Anyway, I was so absorbed that I finished the last 310 pages in a single Sunday afternoon, about 5 hours curled up in my awesome giant green chair, completely oblivious to the world around me. The action-packed plot would have been enough in itself, but what really got me was the layering.

It's a YA novel, written from the perspective of a 16-year-old girl. A 16-year-old girl who is the main provider for her family, but a 16-year-old girl nonetheless. So I was roguishly delighted by the depth of the story. I've heard very little outcry about the political undertones or societal criticism I found hard to ignore--thrilling, in fact. Its post-apocalyptic setting inevitably carries the values that led this society to its demise, a demise that terrifies those of us who take democracy for granted--a la 1984. I find it hard to believe that there has been no debate on the perpetual leftism of implied apocalypse--I may have just missed it, but that would be uncharacteristic of me. Maybe I'm just reading into it too much.

I was also impressed at how well-researched it was, and how insightful. There was a lot of anthropology woven into the story's social scheme, and a lot of psychology. And while Collins alluded to fairly complex concepts and theories, and in fact based huge chunks of the story on these theories, they did not interrupt the flow or drop heavily into the narrative. She explained huge ideas, like biopower, hegemony, and cycles of poverty, in terms the YA audience could grasp fairly easily, on the ground, in a way that was important to the story.

Yes, I am a nerd, and also far too academic for my own good. I don't blame you if you got stuck in the middle of that and stopped reading. SKIP TO HERE: READ THIS BOOK. It's much less dense than my review of it. Can't wait to get my hands on #2.

I should track it down now, because I will no doubt have to reserve it or wait for it to turn up, and I already have another book lined up that I'm pumped about: Sisterhood Everlasting, by Ann Brashares.

Sounds familiar? It should, if you are or have ever been rightfully obsessed with the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. This is the adult book follow-up to the last college-freshmen reunion we witnessed of the famous foursome, Tibby, Carma, Bea, and Lena. So I can't wait to start this.

I stumbled upon this book on Saturday while looking for a Nicholas Sparks title at the New Castle Public Library--no, I am NOT trying to READ a Nicholas Sparks book (but if you asked me if I ever have read one and I was hooked up to a lie detector, I couldn't say no). He has a book called Safe Haven which fit the bill of "A book with safe in the title"--an item on our list of things to scavenge and hunt. (For a scavenger hunt...)

Scavenger hunts have unintended side effects, like accidentally learning historical facts about the place you are scavenging, or finding used syringes in the sand at the public park. Sketchy. We added it to our list and carefully (without touching it) removed the needle from the beach, where there were tons of little kids running around. Kind of a rough awakening.

American flag from another era

Coin from the year someone on the team was born

Out-of-state license plate

Help Wanted sign (a little outdated...)

Business cards from REAL working professionals!

Date/time marked with Roman numerals

Animal made out of glass

Picture with someone dressed from another era

Sign with the name of a team member

Birdfeeder (bird not on the list)

Group jumping photo

(Really awkward) group picture on a slide

On a lighter note, I have some more Delaware historical tidbits for you! Someone asked me once why Dover is the capital of this lovely state, if most of the action happens up north in Wilmington. Turns out, after the American Revolution, the Brits were parked in the Delaware River, pointing 400 guns right at Delaware's capital: New Castle. Now, the rebels, traitors to the crown, understandably felt very nervous about their vulnerable position; so they moved the whole operation inland, out of the way, in the middle of nowhere--to Dover, where it still operates today.

Operating from the new, non-centrally-located capital, Delaware has always been revolutionary. The First State to ratify the U.S. Constitution, may I remind you, was the last state to ratify the 13th Amendment. You know, the one that freed the slaves.

That story, like every other story, history or Hunger Games, is a lot more complex than just that. But I'll leave it for now, because I could never hope to address, or even comprehend, the full scope of pain surrounding slavery and its prohibition and the years that have followed.

Speaking of pain, flogging (by bull-whip) was a legal punishment in this state until 1972. The last incident punished this way, though, was in 1952. Wife-beating.

Sometimes it takes awhile for things to change in law, on the books, after they have already changed in the world we live in.

And sometimes it's the other way around.

In 1970, two years before flogging became illegal in the First State, Democrats and Republicans in Washington cooperated to instate Earth Day. Things were changing. And now, 42 years later, things are still changing. This year, people are still writing about the good of the earth, and about fighting for the good of the earth, and about fighting to preserve what's left of the earth. Things are better than they were in 1970, or so I've heard, but they're still changing.

The longest-serving member of the House of Reps wrote an Earth Day post I really loved. "This world is not ours," he wrote. He says we borrow this earth from future generations. I see that we're sharing it, with too many people and organisms to ever conceptualize.

What I love is that he places us "at a vital point in history. We lead, but if we fail in our leadership, we will fall into the dustbins of history."

The dustbins of history. My favorite place to play.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

making plays and kicking ass: a collective biography

Yep. Seasonal affect order (SAO) is kicking in. I'm gonna be totally honest here: I hate--hate hate hate!--that my mood is so heavily affected by the weather, but I think my life will be better if I just acknowledge that fact. Now the key is to remember that next time it gets dark at 4:00pm.

Speaking of getting dark at 4:00pm, happy equinox! And first day of spring! (I appreciate the pagan holidays because it never makes sense that winter starts on December 21, and this is the first year that spring has actually beat the equinox to me. So nail a pizza to a tree, or something, in honor of the equinox.)

OK. Let's get down to business. I am in a really good mood if you couldn't tell, in large part due to the awesome holiday weekend that just happened. (Was St. Pat a pagan? I hope so.) Here's why: I was house- and cat-sitting for my fam while they hit up Ohio and Indiana for some college visits, so instead of resigning myself to loneliness I decided to fill the house with good people.

My mom suggested I get a keg, but I chickened out. Jameson tastes wayyy better anyway.

So. I spent Friday on the edge of my seat waiting for the day to be done so I could meet up with my girls. Ellen, one of my beloved Olaf Kansans, drove up from D.C. She, Kristy, and I snagged Audrey off the bus around 8:00, and we headed over to Cosmo's Diner on Maryland Ave.

First off, I was very proud of myself for finding it with very little direction, aside from checking out the map on Kristy's phone before we left home. Makes me feel like a local.

And speaking of locals, let me add to my list of reasons it rocks dating local boys. Awhile back I was seriously craving baklava, so J took me to Ali Baba's for $1 baklava. We also talked about someday trying to make it, which I've heard is quite a feat, and would therefore most likely involve me constantly refilling our wine glasses and him doing most of the work. Anyway, I took the following picture of a sign on the table and sent it to him:

"Also look what i found!"

And he IMMEDIATELY responded: "COsmos!!!!"

Too great.

Anyway, Cosmo's was awesome. The bread and the salad alone kicked some serious ass, and my spanakopita definitely did not disappoint (even though I still can't pronounce it). While we were sitting there, not surprisingly being the most raucous booth in the whole place, the lights flickered on and off, and on and off again, and went out for a second before what we assumed was the generator kicked on. Meanwhile, a series of dramatic flashes of electricity lit up the skyline outside, vaguely in the direction of my house. It wasn't really in the direction of my house, but close enough that I set a world record in short-course heart racing.

But we all know I overreact.

After dinner we headed over to W. 4th Street to an 80s-themed arcade bar I saw in Out & About last month: 1984. It seemed pretty legit, but since I wasn't around in 1984 I can't say for sure. It seemed like everyone else in there was around in 1984, though. Unclear in some cases whether they were going to bars in 1984, but still. One guy watched us all open tabs with the bartender and leaned over to Ellen: "Remember when you had to pay in cash at bars?"

Actually none of us remember that, because we've only been going to bars for a year or so. We balanced our pride in being four of the last/best things to come out of the 80s by feeling a little out of place, but nobody made us feel unwelcome. The bartenders were pretty cool, actually, gave us recommendations and helped us make tough decisions like what our next beer would be. Among them: Abita Purple Haze, which was the best raspberry wheat I've had since hitting the 75th Street Brewery in Kansas; Evolution Lucky 7 Porter, which kinda stole my heart; Angry Orchard Apple Ginger hard cider, which was by far my favorite cider ever; and the ever-popular Old Dominion Oak Barrel Stout, touted enthusiastically by Audrey as her all-time most favorite beer ever that she can never find but it's here!

Love at first pour

Note that 1984 does not have a full bar, just a killer selection of hipster beers (I could say craft but they're pretty proud of their PBR so I'll widen the net for that) and the Mike's Hard/Twisted Tea varieties. This threw an interesting wrench in Kristy's beer-weaning, which wasn't scheduled to start until laying-out weather. She kind of had to jump out of the nest after two cheer beers, and discovered to my shock and awe that she likes hoppy beers, and hates wheat. Huh.

I'm also fascinated by the fact that their Facebook page ranks way higher than the actual website, which I found on Yelp. It just opened in early December, and it feels like real-people, on-the-ground management. Everyone was friendly and familiar and there was a DJ who was spinning actual records, which is awesome. And I think we secured our street cred from leading a rousing chorus of "TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT! I DON'T WANNA LET YOU GO 'TIL YOU SEE THE LIGHT!"

We stayed there as long as we could, waiting for Karin to report on the status of her late bus from New York. She got in around 1:30 and since Wilmington is in a metropolitan no-man's land the only two places open at that time of night are IHOP (but only on Main Street Newark) and Denny's on 273. So we went there, to eat ill-timed breakfast food with all the other drunk people in the state, and catch up a little before Ellen had to head back to D.C. at 6 in the morning. Far shot from our New York nights of leaving the bar before everyone else at 3:30am...

Saturday, despite Ellen's absence, was an absolutely gorgeous day. We picked up Anne from the train station at noon and the five of us headed out to Old New Castle to meet Jess.

The most beautiful women in Delaware. I'm sure of it.

As you may have noticed, Old New Castle is pretty much my favorite place ever. It's that history-romance-cobblestone thing. (Those are pretty much synonyms, by the way.) Also the fact that the courthouse steeple is the center of the Delaware circle.

Turns out we were starving by the time we got there, so we stopped for lunch at Trader's Cove, a super cute cafe in an old colonial building with a gorgeous little beer & wine garden out back. (We deduce it is a popular hangout for theater people, theater people in this case possibly being reenactors...? Who knows.) We got grown-up PBJ sandwiches and falafel sandwiches and I got a curry chicken sandwich. All were very good, and come with adorably sliced fresh fruit, or homemade sweet potato chips. Noms.

Actually, the colonial building is called Penn's Place--allegedly the place where William Penn slept his first night in New Castle. (See what they did there? Eh? Eh?) We think he was 22 at the time, and we postulate that he also ate grown-up PBJ's in his beer & wine garden. Before he became a Quaker.

Mostly we spent the afternoon in the sun, chatting. But Jess made us go inside this antique bookstore, a place called Between the Covers, where we all got lost for awhile. We found some gems in there, like a British first edition Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which was going for $250. Other books were worth tens of thousands of dollars. Nuts. For the literary crowd we are.

Old Town shuts down right around 5:00, so after the bookstore closed we meandered back to the house for the night. J and some of his friends eventually came over and I could not have been happier at how the night went down. Good number of good people, good drinks, good food, good times. Just so satisfied. Also, I love my friends.

And Jameson.

On Sunday I got up and made this gorgeous brunch, with the help of my gorgeous friends. I love, love, LOVE hostessing. Seriously. And we were about to linger over brunch for a half hour or so, since Karin's bus left at "noonish."

Ha.

We were going around the table, stating our goals for the day, and Karin said, "My goal for today is to get to my bus with 30 seconds to spare." We all laughed, and I said, "I'd like to give you a little more time," and Anne said, "Wait, what time does your bus leave?"

Karin looked at her watch, cooly, and said, "8 minutes from now?"

All five of us exploded from the table. I just grabbed my keys, even though I was still in my PJs, and Karin and I zoomed off to the bus station (which is at least 10 minutes away--that usually seems close, but not under the circumstances). I actually made very good time, without making any highly unsafe traffic decisions.

And the bus was still parked in front of the station when we got there. Sigh of relief.

Turns out, they had severely overbooked the bus, so I waited in the car while Karin rescheduled her ticket for 2 hours later. None of us were complaining at all about the extra hours with our girl. And we all voted to just sit around and chat. So we really lingered over brunch. And chatting. And grilled cheese sandwiches.

The thesis and theme of the weekend is, as usual, love. A weekend with any and all of these girls never fails to leave each of us refreshed, encouraged, invigorated. Content. And contentedness has not been a particularly common feeling in any of our adult lives.

These friendships are so important, and what I have come to appreciate this weekend is that they are developing adult friendships, relationships that have moved beyond the bounds of our student status, Cage raging and research projects. We have continued to support and affirm each other in very real ways in a very real world, and I have no words to express how valuable these grownup friendships have been to me so far this year. They have surprised me, pleasantly, and given me the strength I've needed to come as far as I have since graduation.

This is not unusual for us.

Anne also mentioned laughter. We laughed this weekend. We laughed reminiscing about laughing in Buntrock, at Cage tables, at inopportune moments, in our weird but contagious choir, echoing and magnifying in the huge atrium student center. She told us about a mutual friend, Hannah, who has started doing smiling meditation, and all the awkward moments that have come from her smiling outwardly for 5 minutes straight, for no apparent reason. It struck me that I spend most of my days pursing my lips, squinting at my computer screen, hunching over in my supposedly ergonomic office chair, my right hand stiffening in its grip on the mouse. So I started smiling for five minutes on my drive home everyday.

It's distracting, but it's evidence of how powerful and important these connections and conversations are in our lives if we are to be happy and successful. And they are like a yeast starter: They build on themselves and spread to other people. It gets easier and easier to reconnect with these women every time we meet up and say goodbye again. Also, these relationships brought a new light and depth to some of my important local relationships, and I am ecstatic to have been able to share all these incredible people with each other.

Not to mention, the house was cleaner when they left than when they showed up.

My next goal is to make everyone move to Wilmington...

Monday, January 16, 2012

cover art

I was browsing the stacks at Barnes & Noble a couple of weeks ago, pulling out a book here or there to look at more closely. Now, we all know how much I love metaphors, and I wish I intended to use this image as set-up for some profound revelation. But, perhaps also in line with some literary affection, I am going to stick to a skin-deep, felt-up cliche.

And now, as the Great Professor Williamson so wisely suggests, I will stop telling you what I am going to do and just do it.

The thought that came to me suddenly in a fit of passion was the proverbial warning: Thou shalt not judge a book by its cover.

In all honesty, I have no passion for this proverb.

Not true. (I lied to myself before, unintentionally. I never intend to mislead you, dear readers.) I do have passion for this proverb. But in no universe would I hold it as any realistic standard. Because, come on, what else are we supposed to judge a book on, but its cover? A decent number of people are paid a decent living to create book covers that consumers will judge favorably enough to pick up, and exchange cash (or the theoretical equivalent), and take home. And then the really good covers will be spotted casually perched upon a coffee table by the consumer's friends, who will say, "Well doesn't that look interesting," and the friends will go out to their preferred book vendor in search of a copy all their own.

I know what you're thinking: "Clara, for someone who professes such great love for metaphor, you have altogether missed the point!" So, I will humor you and take this into the real world (because who really reads anymore, anyway? Raise your hand if you just collect e-books on your Kindle).

The number of people who are paid an [in]decent living to create metaphorical book covers that fall favorably upon consumers of all types of goods is even greater than the literal cover designers. And even those of us who are not paid to create an appealing product strive to create an appealing product every day.

Believe me, I commoditize self-presentation here with the utmost critical respect. I am the Queen of Internal Battles Over Self-Presentation, that is, I care altogether too much what people think. Or I strive simultaneously to blend in and to be unforgettable. Anyone would tell you that this level of contradiction can only portend failure on all counts. But I understand how important it can be to appear a certain way, to conduct oneself in a certain way, and oftentimes it is beneficial to follow the rules to get what I want. On the other hand, one who only roams within the parameters of the game can only ever hope to achieve the average payoff of the game. (Here comes my inner economist. Quick, out the side door!)

The side door being, in this case, a brief foray into creepiness. Senior year of high school the guys I hung out with had read whatever it was that talked about having a "woman-suit," and their way of processing this misogyny was to make fun of it -- ironically at the expense of their female friends. I won't go into details, but today the word popped into my head under a totally different connotation, in a liquor store, of all places.

I stopped in to pick up a 6-pack of beer because I'm almost out, and because we were having company for dinner tonight and I thought it might be good to have some beer around just in case our guest wanted some. I learned long ago that the best way to avoid questions is a confident sense of direction (which in my case is usually a complete facade) so I walked in, greeted the proprietors, and made a beeline for the beer cooler.

I set my choice on the counter with a smile, and the clerk snapped, "ID!" Still smiling, I pulled it out with no particular urgency, so the two of them (husband and wife, a pleasant-looking Indian couple) could pore over it in search of my DOB, inspect my face for lies and wrinkles, and tilt the license to see the watermarks. Finally, finding nothing to suggest I was duping them, the man handed the card back and with those eternally unnerving green Indian eyes, smiled weakly and apologetically. "You look very young, ma'am."

I laughed. "I know. Everyone says that." This is true. People are constantly failing to hide their surprise when I tell them that Maria and Asha are 4 and 6 years younger than me, respectively. They look less shocked if they happen to run into me in my work clothes. I try to make them feel less awkward by joking that I can only hope I still look young when I'm 40, 50, and so on, but I doubt if any of them ever fully believes that I'm not 17. The other day I was exchanging ages with someone and his response to my youth was, "You look young, but you act much older. Women are like that, though."

I of course gave him a hard time for implying that I am just another average woman, and he weaseled out of the chokehold with a very meta rendition of the "unique-snowflake-just-like-everybody-else" joke. And since I love meta at least as much as I love metaphors, I let it slide.

So all of these instances, far from making me feel insecure about my green-dom, have done more to force me to wear in my "woman-suit" of sorts. I am learning to carry myself more like a woman, less like a college girl. More importantly, I am learning how to navigate my own personal carriage without wobbling, faltering, or turning over in a ditch. Knock on wood -- because we all know that overconfident drivers are at greater risk of accidents. (Don't quote me on that, though. It's mostly circumstantial.)

This is progress, and I am starting to feel more comfortable than ever in my very own skin. How very refreshing. (Also in my very own family... But that is perhaps a story for another day.)

OK, not a story for another day. I'm just going to say yet again that I love them, and I could not be happier to be spending this time with them. This afternoon my sisters and I and our dinner guest laughed so hard for so many hours that Maria's and my throats hurt by the end of the evening. Good times. Remember what I said about how crucial hilarity is...

Now, speaking of being of legal drinking age, and being comfortable in my own skin, and laughing a lot, and judging books by their covers, for that matter... I am coming to terms with my indecisiveness surrounding beer lists. I have a few "favorite" beers (New Glarus Totally Naked, Old Dominion Oak Barrel Stout, Mudpuppy something-or-other -- if only on Wisconsin mornings) but I don't really do the go-to thing. Maybe I just haven't found it yet, but I like to try new things. I like to judge a new beer by its label, or by its name, more like. I like to weigh reputation, context, recommendation, and creativity of presentation, and then top it off with a flourish of impulse, and get something I sometimes can't even pronounce.

Saturday night at the Homegrown I further solidified my unexpected growing infatuation with interesting stouts, by haphazardly ordering a bottle of North Coast Brewing Co.'s Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout. My companion fortunately warned me of its high (9%) alcohol content and predicted that it might be too heavy for me, but I actually really liked it. Partially because of the creepy picture of the creepy dude on the bottle, partially because I actually love that deep stout color, partially because it was full and good. This stout wasn't very bitter, and I found it warm and almost sweet. A very pleasant drinking experience.

We left after just one, though, because I had to drive home before the cows beat me to it, and walked around the UD campus a little. It was really cold, but I love campus greens (the quad, to all ye Oles) and clear skies at night between those classic buildings pillared and painted for academia. Also, the green was still strangely green, even in the dark, and even in January. It was a lovely night.

The beer I chose today was from Dogfish Head, a Delaware brewing company located down in Dover. Their big thing is pale ale, at least that's the impression I get, and that might be a seasonal technicality. Whatever the case, their motto is "off-centered stuff for off-centered people," and most of what I've tasted from them makes me want to err on the side of normal and centered. But, I really want to like some of these beers since they are local. (Oh no, here comes my hipster ego! Quick, out the side door!)

So, I'm still trying. I chose a mahogany ale because I love the color and concept of mahogany, and because the brew is called Raison D'Etre. Too good. Dogfish Head caps come in a gorgeous golden-bronzey color, with a sharky fish silhouette, so this is also exciting. It should provide fodder for some jewelry for my beer-loving 'Sconnie mates. As for the drink itself, it looked beautiful in my clear-bottomed mug, swirling with foam and those mahogany tones I like to see in people's eyes. It was a bit too heavy for my tastes, and Maria commented on its strong winey smell. But I enjoyed it well enough. I might have to invite a friend or two over to help me finish it, and I really need to hold myself to the task of not buying 6-packs of ale.

Every day I learn something new, and while covers and labels and titles are there to help us navigate our lives, I do need to remember that sometimes the best books come in an understated cover; sometimes, they come highly recommended but you would have never picked them up on your own. The best beers taste even better when you have someone to share them with, and some beers just taste bad regardless. I don't have to like all of them. The best me, though, likes myself and doesn't drive into a ditch. She holds her carriage steady and walks around the green while the tipsy wears off. She arrives home safely and sleeps comfortably knowing that, when it comes down to it, there is nothing worth worrying so hard about that time stops.