September 30, 2007 - Sunday
There are these commercials with Gwen Stephanie where she says that it's impossible to turn creativity on and off and that when it happens it's like magic.
Inspiration comes at funny times, doesn't it? I have been doing research for a book for about eight months and have been at a loss with what to do with all of it. And suddenly in the dishroom at work, it came to me! I wrote it down and now I can begin! Thank goodness. I was starting to feel the wheels spin there.
So I think the magic can begin. I am hoping for some serious creativity to flow, because I'm pretty sure it's gonna be tough.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Lazy afternoons
September 29, 2007 - Saturday
Things I like to do that I get to do often: work out, read, eat breakfast, drink beer, watch baseball, drink coffee, listen to music and sing along, wear sandals and skirts, talk, dance like a fool, wear sunglasses, write, laugh, cook, stay up late, happy hour, and many other things...
Things I like to do that I don't get to do often: travel, see my family, relax, maybe a few other things...
I'm glad the second list is shorter than the first. Life is good.
Things I like to do that I get to do often: work out, read, eat breakfast, drink beer, watch baseball, drink coffee, listen to music and sing along, wear sandals and skirts, talk, dance like a fool, wear sunglasses, write, laugh, cook, stay up late, happy hour, and many other things...
Things I like to do that I don't get to do often: travel, see my family, relax, maybe a few other things...
I'm glad the second list is shorter than the first. Life is good.
Thanks Ace...
It's so funny how one thing can change your mood:
"Why do you care about Snowflake? Do you know him? Does he call you at home? DO YOU HAVE A DORSAL FIN?!?"
"Why do you care about Snowflake? Do you know him? Does he call you at home? DO YOU HAVE A DORSAL FIN?!?"
Similar to understanding
My freshman cousin (and by freshman, I mean in high school) emailed me for advice on how to be a journalist writing for The New York Times. Did I have a few things to write? Oh yeah. I wrote her a book. But that's what good journalists do.
This unsolicited email for advice tripped me out. Do I know enough to tell her what I think might help her? I guess. But wow. I'm no kid anymore huh?
The older part doesn't bug me. It's the idea that I have lived enough for anyone to assume I might know what I'm doing. It makes me shake my head and laugh at the same time. It's the sort of thing you sometimes need to make things make sense.
This unsolicited email for advice tripped me out. Do I know enough to tell her what I think might help her? I guess. But wow. I'm no kid anymore huh?
The older part doesn't bug me. It's the idea that I have lived enough for anyone to assume I might know what I'm doing. It makes me shake my head and laugh at the same time. It's the sort of thing you sometimes need to make things make sense.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
What goes around?
September 25, 2007 - Tuesday
Life isn't fair is it cats? Don't we all deserve to win the lottery, be famous and have hot bodies? I think so! Well, maybe not all of us, but the vast majority. But then, what fun would that be? Being poor, unknown and frumpy would be the newest trend, like babies are in Hollywood right now.
Tragedy is all relative. I think going through part of a day without electricity and gas is awful, but others spend part of a season like that. There were times when I thought people brought things upon themselves, God punished people or it was all a series of poor decision-making, but I'm not so convinced of that as time goes by. Sometimes they might factor into the equation, but ultimately it comes down to odds.
The idea of cosmic karma appeals to me. I just wonder if the world order is more aligned with what I was told as a kid: Nobody said life was fair.
Life isn't fair is it cats? Don't we all deserve to win the lottery, be famous and have hot bodies? I think so! Well, maybe not all of us, but the vast majority. But then, what fun would that be? Being poor, unknown and frumpy would be the newest trend, like babies are in Hollywood right now.
Tragedy is all relative. I think going through part of a day without electricity and gas is awful, but others spend part of a season like that. There were times when I thought people brought things upon themselves, God punished people or it was all a series of poor decision-making, but I'm not so convinced of that as time goes by. Sometimes they might factor into the equation, but ultimately it comes down to odds.
The idea of cosmic karma appeals to me. I just wonder if the world order is more aligned with what I was told as a kid: Nobody said life was fair.
Monday, September 24, 2007
This old song and dance
September 24, 2007 - Monday
What is it about the dry cleaners that I can never get there? I will drop off my stuff, and about three weeks later I think, hmmm I wonder where my sweater is. Oh yeah...damn it!
Are there certain tasks we do that just are so mundane we block them out? I like to think that I'm doing that with the dry cleaning. It makes me wretch a little actually that I say the phrase, "I have to pick up my dry cleaning."
Aren't there so many substantial things out there to say? To do? I'm not suggesting we all have to change the world with our everyday errands, but sometimes I get the feeling that many of us were meant for something more meaningful than waiting for our number to be called at the DMV.
Some might think it's cheesy to talk about random acts of kindness, but I truly believe pushing someone's car out of the snow will make the world a better place. At the very least, you'll get some exercise and another person will be on their way to lunch with a friend.
Don't get me wrong: I know there are things like wearing sandwich boards, spray-painting fur coats and writing dissenting literature that can make a statement. And many times they might succeed in changing minds and times. I'm not discounting any of that. I'm just more for the guerrilla-style warfare, you know? There are few things more disarming than a smile.
What is it about the dry cleaners that I can never get there? I will drop off my stuff, and about three weeks later I think, hmmm I wonder where my sweater is. Oh yeah...damn it!
Are there certain tasks we do that just are so mundane we block them out? I like to think that I'm doing that with the dry cleaning. It makes me wretch a little actually that I say the phrase, "I have to pick up my dry cleaning."
Aren't there so many substantial things out there to say? To do? I'm not suggesting we all have to change the world with our everyday errands, but sometimes I get the feeling that many of us were meant for something more meaningful than waiting for our number to be called at the DMV.
Some might think it's cheesy to talk about random acts of kindness, but I truly believe pushing someone's car out of the snow will make the world a better place. At the very least, you'll get some exercise and another person will be on their way to lunch with a friend.
Don't get me wrong: I know there are things like wearing sandwich boards, spray-painting fur coats and writing dissenting literature that can make a statement. And many times they might succeed in changing minds and times. I'm not discounting any of that. I'm just more for the guerrilla-style warfare, you know? There are few things more disarming than a smile.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
I need a figurative beach
September 23, 2007 - Sunday
I got a little misty-eyed this afternoon. You know: a beautiful 80-degree day in September, the last home game of the season, Twins beat up on the Sox, and most likely Torii's last game in the Dome. *sob* I was surprised I got so emotional. Then again, I did tear up while reading an interview with him waxing sentimental earlier in the season. I'm not too happy with his last at-bat, but that's neither here nor there. Can't get too hung up on petty little details right? (Though, for the record, Ozzy Guillen can kiss my ass.)
The funny thing is that I have been so keen on setting on my sights on certain things that I have had my blinders on to so many other things. There is still a week left in the season to watch my Twins. (I've been so obsessed with the last home game and October.) This is true on a larger scale as well. Amazing how often you miss the things you walk past. I ask, where is the balance? Where is the line between distracted and diversified? Is it OK to have something going on all the time? Idle hands, right?
I have decided it is a skill to be able to relax. There are definitely people who over-do it; there are always those with natural talents who never practice and take it for granted. It takes a lot to get me in front of a TV without about four other things going on: blogging, cleaning, reading, sorting through my lists, whatever it might be.
There are other people out there like me, I know it! Your brain won't slow down, sleep is almost impossible, Red Bull is always a bad idea (good lord, is it ever!) and you're never satisfied. Well, almost never. But then, not for very long.
A woman told my sister that if you have this type of personality, "You're screwed." I beg to differ, but I do need to practice relaxing. Not sure if that'll happen this week, but I'll give it a try.
I got a little misty-eyed this afternoon. You know: a beautiful 80-degree day in September, the last home game of the season, Twins beat up on the Sox, and most likely Torii's last game in the Dome. *sob* I was surprised I got so emotional. Then again, I did tear up while reading an interview with him waxing sentimental earlier in the season. I'm not too happy with his last at-bat, but that's neither here nor there. Can't get too hung up on petty little details right? (Though, for the record, Ozzy Guillen can kiss my ass.)
The funny thing is that I have been so keen on setting on my sights on certain things that I have had my blinders on to so many other things. There is still a week left in the season to watch my Twins. (I've been so obsessed with the last home game and October.) This is true on a larger scale as well. Amazing how often you miss the things you walk past. I ask, where is the balance? Where is the line between distracted and diversified? Is it OK to have something going on all the time? Idle hands, right?
I have decided it is a skill to be able to relax. There are definitely people who over-do it; there are always those with natural talents who never practice and take it for granted. It takes a lot to get me in front of a TV without about four other things going on: blogging, cleaning, reading, sorting through my lists, whatever it might be.
There are other people out there like me, I know it! Your brain won't slow down, sleep is almost impossible, Red Bull is always a bad idea (good lord, is it ever!) and you're never satisfied. Well, almost never. But then, not for very long.
A woman told my sister that if you have this type of personality, "You're screwed." I beg to differ, but I do need to practice relaxing. Not sure if that'll happen this week, but I'll give it a try.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
The doors are about to close. Please stand clear of the doors.
September 22, 2007 - Saturday
It seems like my blogs are a little baseball heavy around the first part of spring and the end of summer. It's probably because the beginning and end of my boys' season is right around those times, which gives me time to ponder the wonders and joys that are baseball.
Going to the last game of the season tomorrow gives me time to think about how awesome (and different) last season was. Now, I'm not one to live in the past -- makes your neck sore to look back too long -- but the Twin's last regular-season game in 2006 was way too cool for words. As dorky as it sounds, it was one of the most exciting things to witness in my adult life. (I do have a picture of my freaking out somewhere in my photos on here.)
Last year, we won the division with the entire Metrodome watching the Detroit game on the Jumbotron. This year, we will try not to get swept by one of the worst teams in baseball. Ack! I just want to hear U2 sing "Beautiful Day" one more time this year in that Dome. Is that too much to ask? I hope not.
It seems like my blogs are a little baseball heavy around the first part of spring and the end of summer. It's probably because the beginning and end of my boys' season is right around those times, which gives me time to ponder the wonders and joys that are baseball.
Going to the last game of the season tomorrow gives me time to think about how awesome (and different) last season was. Now, I'm not one to live in the past -- makes your neck sore to look back too long -- but the Twin's last regular-season game in 2006 was way too cool for words. As dorky as it sounds, it was one of the most exciting things to witness in my adult life. (I do have a picture of my freaking out somewhere in my photos on here.)
Last year, we won the division with the entire Metrodome watching the Detroit game on the Jumbotron. This year, we will try not to get swept by one of the worst teams in baseball. Ack! I just want to hear U2 sing "Beautiful Day" one more time this year in that Dome. Is that too much to ask? I hope not.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Long days during the year
September 20, 2007 - Thursday
You ever have one of those days where it seems to go on forever, but not because it was bad or anything? More like you had a million different things happen and your thoughts, emotions and body was moving in so many different directions? That was me today: work, crazy podiatrist digging glass out of my foot, a little more work, insane storm, loss of electricity, pizza at RB, bar freak talking to me about his childhood, time for bed! Holy shit, I am exhausted.
Usually, this is when everything comes together in life and you see how amazing everyday is. How can I put into words? You're in line at the grocery store with a pack of gum, frozen pizza and pop and all of sudden you think, "Wow, everything is right with the world." (Thanks Marcy) I love days like this!
You ever have one of those days where it seems to go on forever, but not because it was bad or anything? More like you had a million different things happen and your thoughts, emotions and body was moving in so many different directions? That was me today: work, crazy podiatrist digging glass out of my foot, a little more work, insane storm, loss of electricity, pizza at RB, bar freak talking to me about his childhood, time for bed! Holy shit, I am exhausted.
Usually, this is when everything comes together in life and you see how amazing everyday is. How can I put into words? You're in line at the grocery store with a pack of gum, frozen pizza and pop and all of sudden you think, "Wow, everything is right with the world." (Thanks Marcy) I love days like this!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
August 8th was a beautiful day
September 18, 2007 - Tuesday
It amazes me the perceptions people have about me. I know this sounds really self-centered, and perhaps it is, but it only begs the question: What kinda vibe am I giving off?
There are two schools of thought I get: I am super-innocent --or-- I am a hippie.
Shall we dispel these rumors?
The innocent part is all in the eye of the beholder. Who am I to change anyone's opinion of me when it comes to that? It's far too much fun to just be myself and watch their reaction.
As far as being a hippie, I guess there are so many parts to that equation. I would like to think my attire doesn't indicate it nor do my extra-curricular activities...however, I do worship the sun and enjoy listening to Led Zepplin. What does that even mean?!
And then I have friends who ask, "Why is it an insult to be called a hippy?" Of course all of said friends are indeed hippies. And then I have to ask myself, Why? Is it the years of brainwashing all of my punk-rock friends and boyfriends have done? I think this is the easiest area to place the blame. Why is it that punks hate hippies? And then I am lead back into the gross-ness that is high school.
So how about this? Who cares what we all are? How about: I am me? I guess it leads back to the idea that there is no way to classify one person into a certain category. Sort of that whole "The Breakfast Club" mentality, right?
It amazes me the perceptions people have about me. I know this sounds really self-centered, and perhaps it is, but it only begs the question: What kinda vibe am I giving off?
There are two schools of thought I get: I am super-innocent --or-- I am a hippie.
Shall we dispel these rumors?
The innocent part is all in the eye of the beholder. Who am I to change anyone's opinion of me when it comes to that? It's far too much fun to just be myself and watch their reaction.
As far as being a hippie, I guess there are so many parts to that equation. I would like to think my attire doesn't indicate it nor do my extra-curricular activities...however, I do worship the sun and enjoy listening to Led Zepplin. What does that even mean?!
And then I have friends who ask, "Why is it an insult to be called a hippy?" Of course all of said friends are indeed hippies. And then I have to ask myself, Why? Is it the years of brainwashing all of my punk-rock friends and boyfriends have done? I think this is the easiest area to place the blame. Why is it that punks hate hippies? And then I am lead back into the gross-ness that is high school.
So how about this? Who cares what we all are? How about: I am me? I guess it leads back to the idea that there is no way to classify one person into a certain category. Sort of that whole "The Breakfast Club" mentality, right?
Monday, September 17, 2007
What did you wish for?
September 17, 2007 - Monday
I threw a penny in a wishing well on Sunday. That made me feel kinda like a kid again. Should it though? I actually hang out by that fountain a few times a week. Maybe I should wish in it more often.
It got my friend and me talking about where the origin of wishing wells comes from. I said I would look it up when I got home...Something about deities living in water because all life comes from water and it can be a commodity because of it's scarcity. I like the answer; it suits my spiritual personality.
What really struck me about all this is how awesome the Internet is. Wikipedia may not be trustworthy, but it certainly is interesting. While I contemplate that, I can't help but feel like I'm getting old. Should I really be that amazed? I grew up with it (for the most part). Maybe I'm just struck by the little things lately. Be amazed by the mysteries, right?
I threw a penny in a wishing well on Sunday. That made me feel kinda like a kid again. Should it though? I actually hang out by that fountain a few times a week. Maybe I should wish in it more often.
It got my friend and me talking about where the origin of wishing wells comes from. I said I would look it up when I got home...Something about deities living in water because all life comes from water and it can be a commodity because of it's scarcity. I like the answer; it suits my spiritual personality.
What really struck me about all this is how awesome the Internet is. Wikipedia may not be trustworthy, but it certainly is interesting. While I contemplate that, I can't help but feel like I'm getting old. Should I really be that amazed? I grew up with it (for the most part). Maybe I'm just struck by the little things lately. Be amazed by the mysteries, right?
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Why won’t Detroit Rock City be sweet to me?
September 16, 2007 - Sunday
It's a hard day to be a Minnesota fan, especially when your family is from Detroit. But instead of dwelling on the negative, I'm going to jam out.
Driving home with my sunroof open, all my windows down and music cranked so loud I can hardly pay attention to anything else gave me something to think about. It has been far too long since I have been rockin out to some serious shit. It could be because I have been preparing for the Ani show or because I'm working out a lot, but my playlists have lacked luster in the "rock" department.
(On a similar note, have you ever put your iPod on a certain genre? I'm pretty sure David Grey is NOT rock! Come again? ACDC yes, Barenaked Ladies NO!!! Everything has its place, and I could make fun of myself right now. I'll just let that speak for itself.)
I need to drive fast, smoke cigarettes, wear lipstick, sunglasses and miniskirts. Could I have been born in the wrong decade? Maybe. But I like to think it's for the best. Now, I might be considered eccentric; then, I would have been a groupie. Now that would have been a tragedy.
Personality is an interesting thing. You can't really disguise or walk away from it. It seeps out while you're trying to be quiet. I guess what I'm trying to say is I can't deny my bad obsession with music that, in my humble opinion, rocks.
It's a hard day to be a Minnesota fan, especially when your family is from Detroit. But instead of dwelling on the negative, I'm going to jam out.
Driving home with my sunroof open, all my windows down and music cranked so loud I can hardly pay attention to anything else gave me something to think about. It has been far too long since I have been rockin out to some serious shit. It could be because I have been preparing for the Ani show or because I'm working out a lot, but my playlists have lacked luster in the "rock" department.
(On a similar note, have you ever put your iPod on a certain genre? I'm pretty sure David Grey is NOT rock! Come again? ACDC yes, Barenaked Ladies NO!!! Everything has its place, and I could make fun of myself right now. I'll just let that speak for itself.)
I need to drive fast, smoke cigarettes, wear lipstick, sunglasses and miniskirts. Could I have been born in the wrong decade? Maybe. But I like to think it's for the best. Now, I might be considered eccentric; then, I would have been a groupie. Now that would have been a tragedy.
Personality is an interesting thing. You can't really disguise or walk away from it. It seeps out while you're trying to be quiet. I guess what I'm trying to say is I can't deny my bad obsession with music that, in my humble opinion, rocks.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Come away from it
On the cement floor there's a table with cards and chips: buying and selling time and entertainment, not to mention cash. Voices drift up the vents; muffled conversations and bullshit too distant to understand. Mondays and Fridays are like clockwork.
Sure, we all have our things. I do, that's for sure. What happens when one vice takes over all your other ones? Does it mean you're getting older and more mature or are you just wild?
Everything in moderation, my friend, including moderation...
Sure, we all have our things. I do, that's for sure. What happens when one vice takes over all your other ones? Does it mean you're getting older and more mature or are you just wild?
Everything in moderation, my friend, including moderation...
April Wishes (or alternatively, My Torrid Love Affair with Baseball...)
September 15, 2007 - Saturday
I can't even being to explain how excited I am about tomorrow. I am going to watch baseball!!!!!!!!!! It's a wonder I made it through this summer. Last year at this time, I had about 30 games under my belt. This year, I am ashamed to say I barely made it to the double digits! What is wrong with me? Pretty sure my sis (a bigger Twins fan than me) not being here has something to do with it.
Otherwise I have no excuse. I was working all nights last year -- somehow I managed to be all over the Twinkies schedule. Maybe it had something to do with Lewwwww being on DL for the first part of the season and then to the minors. Ouch. I watched all season on the TV, but I feel kinda like a fair-weather and that is just sick. It's not true...
In all my excitement for October (fully accepting MN's fate) I have forgotten about the fact that my season is limited. Oh! I am about to be in tears. You mean there won't be a game on four nights and two days a week? What? How will I exist?
OK Becca, let's try not to be too dramatic. You made it through last year's off-season. Football eases the blow a bit. All that bull-shit I wrote about being OK with summer being over is coming to slap me in the face. Thank God for April...my birthday and my boys are playing again.
But listen to me! I act like there aren't more games to watch! What a silly girl I am...there is so much more to the fall. There are still a few games left and I MUST be there to say goodbye. And then comes fun! Beer, bars and baseball. Amazing how well that alliteration goes together.
I can't even being to explain how excited I am about tomorrow. I am going to watch baseball!!!!!!!!!! It's a wonder I made it through this summer. Last year at this time, I had about 30 games under my belt. This year, I am ashamed to say I barely made it to the double digits! What is wrong with me? Pretty sure my sis (a bigger Twins fan than me) not being here has something to do with it.
Otherwise I have no excuse. I was working all nights last year -- somehow I managed to be all over the Twinkies schedule. Maybe it had something to do with Lewwwww being on DL for the first part of the season and then to the minors. Ouch. I watched all season on the TV, but I feel kinda like a fair-weather and that is just sick. It's not true...
In all my excitement for October (fully accepting MN's fate) I have forgotten about the fact that my season is limited. Oh! I am about to be in tears. You mean there won't be a game on four nights and two days a week? What? How will I exist?
OK Becca, let's try not to be too dramatic. You made it through last year's off-season. Football eases the blow a bit. All that bull-shit I wrote about being OK with summer being over is coming to slap me in the face. Thank God for April...my birthday and my boys are playing again.
But listen to me! I act like there aren't more games to watch! What a silly girl I am...there is so much more to the fall. There are still a few games left and I MUST be there to say goodbye. And then comes fun! Beer, bars and baseball. Amazing how well that alliteration goes together.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Bewitching time
September 13, 2007 - Thursday
Tomorrow is Friday. This is the day many Monday-thru-Friday, 9-to-5ers get pretty excited about. I can't say I blame them. It is nice to have a weekend...I generally don't get one. This Friday is different: I don't have a 14 hour day. And I am excited about that.
However, I am still a little leary of people who say things like "Happy Monday" in some sort of foreboding way and call Thursday "Friday eve." Not that I don't relate to the fact that work is work -- although I do have some sort of sick addiction -- it just seems so sad to wish away the majority of your week. Isn't that what we're doing?
So I try not to say those things and I try not look forward to one day more than another. I can't say I'm succeeding always, but hey! I'm trying right?
Tomorrow is Friday. This is the day many Monday-thru-Friday, 9-to-5ers get pretty excited about. I can't say I blame them. It is nice to have a weekend...I generally don't get one. This Friday is different: I don't have a 14 hour day. And I am excited about that.
However, I am still a little leary of people who say things like "Happy Monday" in some sort of foreboding way and call Thursday "Friday eve." Not that I don't relate to the fact that work is work -- although I do have some sort of sick addiction -- it just seems so sad to wish away the majority of your week. Isn't that what we're doing?
So I try not to say those things and I try not look forward to one day more than another. I can't say I'm succeeding always, but hey! I'm trying right?
"I know this song with one really killer line" (updated)
September 13, 2007 - Thursday
I like to think that on Monday nights I do my part to be a better listener. Monday night is always poker night here at our home...and inevitably people leave angry. I just kick it upstairs, knowing and waiting that I will hear someone's bad-beat story. (Let me guess: You had it the whole way and someone sucked it out on the river. Man, I am so good.)
Listening truly is a skill. But it's easy to do--you know, that whole active listening thing. I think my favorite thing to do when it comes to listening is eavesdrop. I'll admit it! As a waitress, there are some conversations you happen into that you do not want to walk away from. You have to be covert though. People can tell when you hover a little too long. (Although there is nothing more uncomfortable than having the break-up table. People!! Why are you doing this in public? Is she/he really that crazy? ...maybe)
The best place to listen is the bus. In fact, I love it when I notice someone listening to conversations I'm having. Marcy and I were heading out to bike ride and just jawing about everything. I think we were more amusing to the lady in front of us than to each other. This is why I think it's tragic that we're all plugged into our iPods all the time. I'm as guilty as the next person, but I do bless the moments when I forget to charge it and am forced to listen to sounds of life rather than my music.
So, much in the same way I turned off my cell phone off for a week many months ago, I am going to *gulp* leave my iPod at home for a week. The only exception is I get to listen to it when I work out. Come on, it's my motivation! We'll see how it goes.
Update: Day 1 was OK although all I heard on the bus was how sick everyone is! I think my biggest pet peeve is when people sniffle. Blow your nose please! Anyway, I thought it was going to be really hard, especially because an album I was excited about came out today, but it wasn't that bad. I enjoyed my connection to the outside world. Plus I don't have to fight the urge to sing outloud and dance as I walk down the street, which is quite the inner struggle.
Day 2: Sirens always remind me of home...I know I grew up in the middle of nowhere, but I was on the main drag (Hwy 38) which meant lots of traffic and action for a "country" girl. The sounds of today were quite lovely; I tend to sit in front of the government center where the fountains are. Green space. Alone. Shared with everyone. I close my eyes and remember.
Day 3: I caved. The pull of all that good music--it's like having a soundtrack to my life. I can't help it! Well, I won't sweat it. It was kinda nice without the music. Maybe I'll just let my iPod run out of battery more often.
I like to think that on Monday nights I do my part to be a better listener. Monday night is always poker night here at our home...and inevitably people leave angry. I just kick it upstairs, knowing and waiting that I will hear someone's bad-beat story. (Let me guess: You had it the whole way and someone sucked it out on the river. Man, I am so good.)
Listening truly is a skill. But it's easy to do--you know, that whole active listening thing. I think my favorite thing to do when it comes to listening is eavesdrop. I'll admit it! As a waitress, there are some conversations you happen into that you do not want to walk away from. You have to be covert though. People can tell when you hover a little too long. (Although there is nothing more uncomfortable than having the break-up table. People!! Why are you doing this in public? Is she/he really that crazy? ...maybe)
The best place to listen is the bus. In fact, I love it when I notice someone listening to conversations I'm having. Marcy and I were heading out to bike ride and just jawing about everything. I think we were more amusing to the lady in front of us than to each other. This is why I think it's tragic that we're all plugged into our iPods all the time. I'm as guilty as the next person, but I do bless the moments when I forget to charge it and am forced to listen to sounds of life rather than my music.
So, much in the same way I turned off my cell phone off for a week many months ago, I am going to *gulp* leave my iPod at home for a week. The only exception is I get to listen to it when I work out. Come on, it's my motivation! We'll see how it goes.
Update: Day 1 was OK although all I heard on the bus was how sick everyone is! I think my biggest pet peeve is when people sniffle. Blow your nose please! Anyway, I thought it was going to be really hard, especially because an album I was excited about came out today, but it wasn't that bad. I enjoyed my connection to the outside world. Plus I don't have to fight the urge to sing outloud and dance as I walk down the street, which is quite the inner struggle.
Day 2: Sirens always remind me of home...I know I grew up in the middle of nowhere, but I was on the main drag (Hwy 38) which meant lots of traffic and action for a "country" girl. The sounds of today were quite lovely; I tend to sit in front of the government center where the fountains are. Green space. Alone. Shared with everyone. I close my eyes and remember.
Day 3: I caved. The pull of all that good music--it's like having a soundtrack to my life. I can't help it! Well, I won't sweat it. It was kinda nice without the music. Maybe I'll just let my iPod run out of battery more often.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
In the background, I guess
September 11, 2007 - Tuesday
My sister called me in the middle of work today. I jumped up and down and screamed like a little girl...not sure if my co-workers have seen that side of me yet. But most likely they have.
It had been a month since we had spoken on the phone. After freaking out, "I miss you!!" about ten times, I started talking about how it was only 11 months until she comes home, which is why this September is so great. Well, I think she might be staying a little longer than 11 months.
I am slowly coming to realize that my sister will not be as close (in proximity) to me as she was when we were going to college. I was willing to deal with this for a little while by simply not thinking about it. (Hey! It works!) But what does someone do when someone you love is so far away and intends to stay there for some time? Visit...of course. Move there? Out of the question. Deal? I suppose. Bummer.
I am trying to think of a way that I can be optimistic about this: my curse. Laura always gets me the greatest things from everywhere in the world, so I will have great clothes. Plus (oh! I totally forgot about this!) she is leaving all of her clothes and shoes here...Oh I love her clothes. I guess it's an alternative to her. It reminds me of her anyway.
My sister called me in the middle of work today. I jumped up and down and screamed like a little girl...not sure if my co-workers have seen that side of me yet. But most likely they have.
It had been a month since we had spoken on the phone. After freaking out, "I miss you!!" about ten times, I started talking about how it was only 11 months until she comes home, which is why this September is so great. Well, I think she might be staying a little longer than 11 months.
I am slowly coming to realize that my sister will not be as close (in proximity) to me as she was when we were going to college. I was willing to deal with this for a little while by simply not thinking about it. (Hey! It works!) But what does someone do when someone you love is so far away and intends to stay there for some time? Visit...of course. Move there? Out of the question. Deal? I suppose. Bummer.
I am trying to think of a way that I can be optimistic about this: my curse. Laura always gets me the greatest things from everywhere in the world, so I will have great clothes. Plus (oh! I totally forgot about this!) she is leaving all of her clothes and shoes here...Oh I love her clothes. I guess it's an alternative to her. It reminds me of her anyway.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Halloween costumes in Walgreens affect me
September 9, 2007 - Sunday
Gross, it's September. OK we all knew it was coming. I will try to keep it short. For the first time in about five months, listening to The Cure actually depresses me.
I like to use that band as a barometer. When the sun beats down and the mercury approaches 70 F, they make me jam and smile and all those really obnoxious things I do when I dig a song.
But when the sun starts rising after 7am and I have to wear a sweater, those songs get tucked away like all my cute shoes...if I were to see/hear them, I would surely go into a state of severe depression.
OK, it's not that bad yet. BUT WHY???? Why don't I live in Hawaii? Why do I have to torture myself? Well, I suppose I wouldn't have as much to write about...
Gross, it's September. OK we all knew it was coming. I will try to keep it short. For the first time in about five months, listening to The Cure actually depresses me.
I like to use that band as a barometer. When the sun beats down and the mercury approaches 70 F, they make me jam and smile and all those really obnoxious things I do when I dig a song.
But when the sun starts rising after 7am and I have to wear a sweater, those songs get tucked away like all my cute shoes...if I were to see/hear them, I would surely go into a state of severe depression.
OK, it's not that bad yet. BUT WHY???? Why don't I live in Hawaii? Why do I have to torture myself? Well, I suppose I wouldn't have as much to write about...
Fascination
Another year of football has begun, and with it comes Sundays and Mondays of sitting on couches and bars talking about statistics so vital. It amazes me how people who have very little in common and could actually care less about each other can talk for hours about interceptions, defensive lines, offensive coordinators, completion percentages, yadda yadda yadda...
All of this prompts: How well do I really know the people I think I know? What sort of things creates bonds between people?
A good friend and I were chatting last night and she and I agreed that we really liked each other and we were both very lucky to have such a cool friendship. I don't know that I have had that sort of conversation with many people.
What are the things about people that make me (or anyone for that matter) hang out, share stories and swap secrets with them?
Of course, similarities in taste, from movies to music, make it easier to relate to someone. It's always easy to get along with someone who has a similar background, similar political views, similar schooling...but is this really what we desire? What about that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry dates the female version of Jerry? It didn't work out. All that talk about opposites attract: I don't know about that either.
You could move from psychological to physiological. I'm not going to want to hang out for very long if your hygiene is a bit lax, you know? And there is something to smell in general. That High Fidelity, smells-like-home thing.
After all this, I guess maybe I don't want the question answered. What fun would it be to know why I like the people I like? I'll take a page from the late Madeline L'Engle: stop looking for answers and start appreciating the mysteries of the universe. Now that makes me smile, and really, what could be better than that?
All of this prompts: How well do I really know the people I think I know? What sort of things creates bonds between people?
A good friend and I were chatting last night and she and I agreed that we really liked each other and we were both very lucky to have such a cool friendship. I don't know that I have had that sort of conversation with many people.
What are the things about people that make me (or anyone for that matter) hang out, share stories and swap secrets with them?
Of course, similarities in taste, from movies to music, make it easier to relate to someone. It's always easy to get along with someone who has a similar background, similar political views, similar schooling...but is this really what we desire? What about that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry dates the female version of Jerry? It didn't work out. All that talk about opposites attract: I don't know about that either.
You could move from psychological to physiological. I'm not going to want to hang out for very long if your hygiene is a bit lax, you know? And there is something to smell in general. That High Fidelity, smells-like-home thing.
After all this, I guess maybe I don't want the question answered. What fun would it be to know why I like the people I like? I'll take a page from the late Madeline L'Engle: stop looking for answers and start appreciating the mysteries of the universe. Now that makes me smile, and really, what could be better than that?
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Your Time is Gonna Come
September 8, 2007 - Saturday
Two things were brought to my attention today, both of which affect me tremendously:
1. Madeline L'Engle died Thursday
2. Led Zepplin is reuniting for a concert.
I can't say for certain, because I was about 9 years old, but "A Wrinkle in Time" is most likely the reason I am the bookworm I am today. I read it about 12 times in elementary school.
Madeline L'Engle is indirectly responsible for many of the silly/impractical things I have done and continue to do. Switching from a math major to a journalism major, crossing the universe fighting evil, creating a book blog, writing a book or two (still working on the two in that), reading until 4am, wanting to be a librarian...
I am not mourning her death; the women influenced millions of readers and lived a long life. I am simply reflecting on how much one person, one person you may have never met and might not think of every day, can have such a profound effect on anyone's life.
Around the same time I was reading about genius children my age running around the universe fighting evil to save their scientist father, I met Heather Hawkinson who, in turn, introduced me to one of my first loves: Led Zepplin.
Being a child who grew up in a virtually hippy-free zone, this was quite a shock to me. Not to say that Zepplin fans are hippies. If some of my friends heard me say that, I wouldn't see light again.
All of this in incidental to the fact that throughout my life, this band has followed me around.
As you shed the skin of your childhood, shake off your adolescence (thank God!) and move into what we like to call adult life, you leave a lot behind that you thought you were passionate about.
Either passion is fleeting (for which an argument can be made) or many things disguise themselves as passion. (Obsessed much?) Led Zepplin has its claws in me and my passion for music is nothing in disguise.
So, although I may not be spending the $500-$700 for a ticket just to get into the show (I can't imagine getting to London would be cheap either.) I must say that I am freaking out. This band that broke up before I was born and still affected me so much, is getting together to play again. And I *could* witness it. Hey, I didn't say I wasn't gonna drop the money to see them, I just said I may not.
So, before lunch, I have witnessed a sort of death-and-rebirth that has directly affected me so personally. Geez, I don't know if I should do anything or just go back to bed because any more of something like that could just be too heavy.
Two things were brought to my attention today, both of which affect me tremendously:
1. Madeline L'Engle died Thursday
2. Led Zepplin is reuniting for a concert.
I can't say for certain, because I was about 9 years old, but "A Wrinkle in Time" is most likely the reason I am the bookworm I am today. I read it about 12 times in elementary school.
Madeline L'Engle is indirectly responsible for many of the silly/impractical things I have done and continue to do. Switching from a math major to a journalism major, crossing the universe fighting evil, creating a book blog, writing a book or two (still working on the two in that), reading until 4am, wanting to be a librarian...
I am not mourning her death; the women influenced millions of readers and lived a long life. I am simply reflecting on how much one person, one person you may have never met and might not think of every day, can have such a profound effect on anyone's life.
Around the same time I was reading about genius children my age running around the universe fighting evil to save their scientist father, I met Heather Hawkinson who, in turn, introduced me to one of my first loves: Led Zepplin.
Being a child who grew up in a virtually hippy-free zone, this was quite a shock to me. Not to say that Zepplin fans are hippies. If some of my friends heard me say that, I wouldn't see light again.
All of this in incidental to the fact that throughout my life, this band has followed me around.
As you shed the skin of your childhood, shake off your adolescence (thank God!) and move into what we like to call adult life, you leave a lot behind that you thought you were passionate about.
Either passion is fleeting (for which an argument can be made) or many things disguise themselves as passion. (Obsessed much?) Led Zepplin has its claws in me and my passion for music is nothing in disguise.
So, although I may not be spending the $500-$700 for a ticket just to get into the show (I can't imagine getting to London would be cheap either.) I must say that I am freaking out. This band that broke up before I was born and still affected me so much, is getting together to play again. And I *could* witness it. Hey, I didn't say I wasn't gonna drop the money to see them, I just said I may not.
So, before lunch, I have witnessed a sort of death-and-rebirth that has directly affected me so personally. Geez, I don't know if I should do anything or just go back to bed because any more of something like that could just be too heavy.
Friday, September 7, 2007
This one goes to 11
September 7, 2007 - Friday
Sound is such a big part of my memory. It triggers more feelings than any other sense I have.
It could be that I can name songs based on when they were relevant to me. I could make a timeline of my whole life with the Top 40 crap I have had to endure, not to mention the millions of songs I actually love!
Why is it that I can't listen to an easy-listening station without thinking about the dentist? I can literally feel the revolving brush when I hear Paula Cole. *shudder* (Now, I'm not saying I choose to listen to this, but you know...you're in the car with your parents' friends and you're not going to make a crack about their radio station...)
What happened in the year 1991 that I can literally name off lists of songs and artists on the Top 40? Toad the Wet Sprocket? Yuck!! The state of music in the early '90s was so sad, but the optimist in me found a way to rock out to EMF. Now, it's a cheese commercial. What an insult to the cheese.
How about soundtracks to movies? Now there is a trip: you hear a song and it reminds you of a part in a certain movie AND whatever it may trigger in your own life. Then you get it twisted and start to think you were jamming with Spinal Tap while seducing Kate Hudson. Wait...that's not quite right!
The real question isn't how much you can relate to all of this. The real question is: WTF is with those people that don't live and breath for some music? I'm talking about the people who don't have passion for something that makes them move. Come again? How do you get through the day? Jam, man! I can barely handle not singing and dancing with my MP3 player on the bus (for the sake of others' sanity of course); where do you release all that...excess emotion? It makes me wonder.
I like music. I like people who like music. I like people who don't judge me based on the kind of music I jam out to. I like people who make no apologies for what they freak out to. Something sexy about that.
Sound is such a big part of my memory. It triggers more feelings than any other sense I have.
It could be that I can name songs based on when they were relevant to me. I could make a timeline of my whole life with the Top 40 crap I have had to endure, not to mention the millions of songs I actually love!
Why is it that I can't listen to an easy-listening station without thinking about the dentist? I can literally feel the revolving brush when I hear Paula Cole. *shudder* (Now, I'm not saying I choose to listen to this, but you know...you're in the car with your parents' friends and you're not going to make a crack about their radio station...)
What happened in the year 1991 that I can literally name off lists of songs and artists on the Top 40? Toad the Wet Sprocket? Yuck!! The state of music in the early '90s was so sad, but the optimist in me found a way to rock out to EMF. Now, it's a cheese commercial. What an insult to the cheese.
How about soundtracks to movies? Now there is a trip: you hear a song and it reminds you of a part in a certain movie AND whatever it may trigger in your own life. Then you get it twisted and start to think you were jamming with Spinal Tap while seducing Kate Hudson. Wait...that's not quite right!
The real question isn't how much you can relate to all of this. The real question is: WTF is with those people that don't live and breath for some music? I'm talking about the people who don't have passion for something that makes them move. Come again? How do you get through the day? Jam, man! I can barely handle not singing and dancing with my MP3 player on the bus (for the sake of others' sanity of course); where do you release all that...excess emotion? It makes me wonder.
I like music. I like people who like music. I like people who don't judge me based on the kind of music I jam out to. I like people who make no apologies for what they freak out to. Something sexy about that.
"Shh! This is serious!" (Bingo)
September 7, 2007 - Friday
Isn't it interesting how the way someone says something can influence how you interpret or even remember a certain phrase? The inside jokes are always an example, but how about the weird shit that people say in a certain way that just cracks you up--and when anyone else says it or even some variation, you can't hear it any other way. And you can't help but laugh to yourself...
Of course, I have plenty of examples, but none of which I have recorded so as to show the humor. But, what the hell? Might as well write them down for my own amusement:
"Have a good eve." -- Nate Oliver--those who know him know this phrase too well, and it sure makes me crack up.
"B-7" -- The bingo dude at the Crystal VFW--really? How can you speak so clearly and not be able to enunciate the "seven" in this particular phrase?
"Hot hammy sammy!" -- Tim Busch -- everything to do with an elementary school principal and school lunch. And I stomp my feet on the ground I am laughing so hard.
"Hello my frien ... do you like my bah-dee?" -- Whipper -- I don't know that I have even heard him say this, but the impressions are delightful.
"To-nie! I'll have a mocha-frapaccino-latte-cafe...oh dude, my socks don't match, but I'm making a statement." -- Dave -- on the many uber-liberal, hippy-esque idiots living in Uptown.
"Hello!" (in a Peewee Herman voice) -- all the Watson girls, to the dismay of the men who call them part of their family.
"Oh man!" -- All the Briefman videos.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" -- Kristen, while grabbing my bah-dee in various areas while mimicking drunken Marcus.
I could go on for hours. But it's amusing to think about...especially because everyone has their silly stuff.
Isn't it interesting how the way someone says something can influence how you interpret or even remember a certain phrase? The inside jokes are always an example, but how about the weird shit that people say in a certain way that just cracks you up--and when anyone else says it or even some variation, you can't hear it any other way. And you can't help but laugh to yourself...
Of course, I have plenty of examples, but none of which I have recorded so as to show the humor. But, what the hell? Might as well write them down for my own amusement:
"Have a good eve." -- Nate Oliver--those who know him know this phrase too well, and it sure makes me crack up.
"B-7" -- The bingo dude at the Crystal VFW--really? How can you speak so clearly and not be able to enunciate the "seven" in this particular phrase?
"Hot hammy sammy!" -- Tim Busch -- everything to do with an elementary school principal and school lunch. And I stomp my feet on the ground I am laughing so hard.
"Hello my frien ... do you like my bah-dee?" -- Whipper -- I don't know that I have even heard him say this, but the impressions are delightful.
"To-nie! I'll have a mocha-frapaccino-latte-cafe...oh dude, my socks don't match, but I'm making a statement." -- Dave -- on the many uber-liberal, hippy-esque idiots living in Uptown.
"Hello!" (in a Peewee Herman voice) -- all the Watson girls, to the dismay of the men who call them part of their family.
"Oh man!" -- All the Briefman videos.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" -- Kristen, while grabbing my bah-dee in various areas while mimicking drunken Marcus.
I could go on for hours. But it's amusing to think about...especially because everyone has their silly stuff.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
The dog ate my bus pass
September 4, 2007 - Tuesday
A series of unfortunate events this past week are telling me I might want to reconsider taking the bus daily.
1. A bus driver decided she wanted a sandwich from Byerly's more than she wanted to take the specified route. This left me with the choice of walking 1.5 miles home in heels or heading back to Knox and West Broadway to wait in the dark for another bus. I chose walking. In heels.
2. I had to run to catch the bus (which is never fun, but it happens) and ended up spilling my coffee all over my white dress. Now there is a great way to start the day!
3. The 6 I took from Uptown into Northeast stopped at Washington and Hennepin, leaving me to walk over the bridge in the beating sun.
4. I visited a friend whose dog is a fan of women's purses. Among the things I lost: a bus pass with $40 on it. It's a replaceable card (for $5) so it's not the end of the world--but really?!
I also really miss driving my car. I got it five months ago and I haven't put more than 1500 miles on it. How sad.
A series of unfortunate events this past week are telling me I might want to reconsider taking the bus daily.
1. A bus driver decided she wanted a sandwich from Byerly's more than she wanted to take the specified route. This left me with the choice of walking 1.5 miles home in heels or heading back to Knox and West Broadway to wait in the dark for another bus. I chose walking. In heels.
2. I had to run to catch the bus (which is never fun, but it happens) and ended up spilling my coffee all over my white dress. Now there is a great way to start the day!
3. The 6 I took from Uptown into Northeast stopped at Washington and Hennepin, leaving me to walk over the bridge in the beating sun.
4. I visited a friend whose dog is a fan of women's purses. Among the things I lost: a bus pass with $40 on it. It's a replaceable card (for $5) so it's not the end of the world--but really?!
I also really miss driving my car. I got it five months ago and I haven't put more than 1500 miles on it. How sad.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Optimism is such a bitch
September 3, 2007 - Monday
Yes, the summer is over. And that's OK with me. Really! I know you don't believe me. I'm trying to fool myself, you see? Actually I am really depressed, but I decided not to write about it directly because I am in denial.
So I try and get mad about things and I just can't. Or maybe not so much mad, but upset or depressed or something. All I know is I am looking for the silver lining most of the time, which is starting to get annoying.
(Now I am not saying that I don't get pissed or irate or throw punches. Most people that know me long enough are afraid of my cocktail server personality. Hell, I'm afraid of it! Why do you think I'm in the dining room!?)
I'm OK with fall coming for reasons previously written about, although I certainly have an opinion about winter. I'm sure I'll figure out a reason to be OK with it, and it will have something to do with Christmas cookies. It doesn't look good for my Twins and it doesn't faze me.
Something to do with Liriano coming back next year and October still kicking ass even if you're team isn't there. My sis is in South Korea until at least August and I say excellent! I can make some new friends or cultivate the relationships I already have. And on and on the stories go. (I just used the word cultivate.)
The amusing part about this attitude is how it really irritates me at times. Don't be upset about the things that actually are important to you--just be at how you react to them. There are worse things in the world, I suppose. I like looking at the world through rose colored glasses most of the time. It makes for a much more enjoyable time. There are plenty of pessimists out there who would disagree with me; but I'm not going to argue.
Yes, the summer is over. And that's OK with me. Really! I know you don't believe me. I'm trying to fool myself, you see? Actually I am really depressed, but I decided not to write about it directly because I am in denial.
So I try and get mad about things and I just can't. Or maybe not so much mad, but upset or depressed or something. All I know is I am looking for the silver lining most of the time, which is starting to get annoying.
(Now I am not saying that I don't get pissed or irate or throw punches. Most people that know me long enough are afraid of my cocktail server personality. Hell, I'm afraid of it! Why do you think I'm in the dining room!?)
I'm OK with fall coming for reasons previously written about, although I certainly have an opinion about winter. I'm sure I'll figure out a reason to be OK with it, and it will have something to do with Christmas cookies. It doesn't look good for my Twins and it doesn't faze me.
Something to do with Liriano coming back next year and October still kicking ass even if you're team isn't there. My sis is in South Korea until at least August and I say excellent! I can make some new friends or cultivate the relationships I already have. And on and on the stories go. (I just used the word cultivate.)
The amusing part about this attitude is how it really irritates me at times. Don't be upset about the things that actually are important to you--just be at how you react to them. There are worse things in the world, I suppose. I like looking at the world through rose colored glasses most of the time. It makes for a much more enjoyable time. There are plenty of pessimists out there who would disagree with me; but I'm not going to argue.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Peak inside
September 2, 2007 - Sunday
Current mood: bouncy
It's amazing what kinds of things we don't notice or care to notice everyday. Living in a city with so much life (even on Labor Day weekend!) and still I/we revert to doing the same things we always do: creatures of habit.
But the question I have is, what is really a waste of time? Where I grew up, saying "I'm bored" was like swearing. You didn't say it, but if you did, you better not let mom hear you or she'd come after you with a bar of soap. Now I can't imagine saying it--when don't we have something to do? So when I chill on the patio with friends, read my book, take a nap, blog and surf the web; are these things really bad for me? OK are they making me a better person? Does it really even matter? What if tomorrow never comes?
But there are things that I always say I want to do but never get around to doing, maybe because I am being a little lazy. For instance, today I went to the Basillica of St. Mary on Lyndale. I've been wanting to visit since I moved here...SIX years ago! I'm ashamed to admit that even before I moved here it was one of the first places I was excited to see. Those stain-glassed cathedral walls would have waited for me patiently for years, but I know how easily it is to see something everyday but never really appreciate it.
So if it ended tonight, would I be more happy reading a book or going to the Basillica? There's a no-brainer. But the problem with trying to go do everything all the time is the burn-out factor. What about a balance?
"You don't want to die a virgin, do you?" the devil whispers.
Current mood: bouncy
It's amazing what kinds of things we don't notice or care to notice everyday. Living in a city with so much life (even on Labor Day weekend!) and still I/we revert to doing the same things we always do: creatures of habit.
But the question I have is, what is really a waste of time? Where I grew up, saying "I'm bored" was like swearing. You didn't say it, but if you did, you better not let mom hear you or she'd come after you with a bar of soap. Now I can't imagine saying it--when don't we have something to do? So when I chill on the patio with friends, read my book, take a nap, blog and surf the web; are these things really bad for me? OK are they making me a better person? Does it really even matter? What if tomorrow never comes?
But there are things that I always say I want to do but never get around to doing, maybe because I am being a little lazy. For instance, today I went to the Basillica of St. Mary on Lyndale. I've been wanting to visit since I moved here...SIX years ago! I'm ashamed to admit that even before I moved here it was one of the first places I was excited to see. Those stain-glassed cathedral walls would have waited for me patiently for years, but I know how easily it is to see something everyday but never really appreciate it.
So if it ended tonight, would I be more happy reading a book or going to the Basillica? There's a no-brainer. But the problem with trying to go do everything all the time is the burn-out factor. What about a balance?
"You don't want to die a virgin, do you?" the devil whispers.
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