"Last night, I dreamt that it was the day before Kristen's wedding shower, but it was also the day before her wedding. We were in some version of her house in East Lansing, and Deb was there, and lots of people were there. Chris was there, too, and he made some joke and then I told it the right way, and we had a good laugh together and I said something to the effect of, "Oh we're going to get along so well!" That was in the early evening, when it was starting to get dark, and we were sitting at some kind of bar.
During what I think was the next day, Deb had 24 people sitting around this big dining room table, and they were making sort of the invitations that Mom and I made for the shower, only they were something else entirely. Deb sent me around the house to find old Polaroid pictures of Kristen when she was little, but I couldn't find any and kept coming back with stacks of the wrong pictures. I was excited because I knew I would be in a lot of pictures, but I wasn't in many of them and that made me a little sad.
It turned into night, and I was sitting around a table with my sister, Brittany, and 6 or 7 other people smoking pot. When I inhaled and coughed, Brittany asked in a very concerned way if I was okay. Sarah was either laughing at me, or she didn't know what she was doing.
The next thing I knew, it was the day of the wedding, and I wouldn't have known except I opened up the door to a room, and the ceremony was almost over. Kristen, who was in a white crocheted dress, saw me and told everyone to stop, that I needed to come up and sit in the front with everyone else. Deb came to get me at the back of the church, and I was glad that they had made an effort to include me, but felt like they should have told me that the wedding was today instead of accomodating me after I found out."
Instead of working, I'm writing about my dreams, and trying to motivate myself to work and not daydream about falling asleep at home listening to the rain.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
On finding your passion:
Blogger Jason Seiden writes about finding your passion - you can't follow your passions, you need to grow them.
"So before we start exploring this option or that one, we need to stoke the flames first. And that means staying focused on one thing. One fire. It may not be the location for the eternal flame, you may not even last a year where you are, but right now, we have got to invest everything we have in getting ourselves fired up about it before we can move to someplace else, because just like a campfire, if we move before the fire’s burning, it’ll go out and we’ll have to start all over.
Stop running around trying to find your passion. Your passion is already in your hands. It’s delicate, and it needs to be cultivated—wherever you are right now—before you can transfer it."
http://jasonseiden.com/the-trick-is-to-find-what-youre-passionate-about-and-do-that-right-wrong/
"So before we start exploring this option or that one, we need to stoke the flames first. And that means staying focused on one thing. One fire. It may not be the location for the eternal flame, you may not even last a year where you are, but right now, we have got to invest everything we have in getting ourselves fired up about it before we can move to someplace else, because just like a campfire, if we move before the fire’s burning, it’ll go out and we’ll have to start all over.
Stop running around trying to find your passion. Your passion is already in your hands. It’s delicate, and it needs to be cultivated—wherever you are right now—before you can transfer it."
http://jasonseiden.com/the-trick-is-to-find-what-youre-passionate-about-and-do-that-right-wrong/
Monday, April 20, 2009
Confidence
Sometimes, when I'm feeling unsure of myself and my abilities, I'll sing, in my head the song that Maria sings in the Sound of Music when she's going to the Von Trapp's house for the first time, "I Have Confidence." It usually works for me. But where do other people get their confidence? For a lot of people, it's probably not that easy.
I was was the 40 millionth person to read an article about Susan Boyles, the unlikely singing sensation from Britain's Got Talent, and had some thoughts about confidence. Here is a woman, with no job, not conventionally pretty or fashionable, and 47 years old - certainly past her prime by most standards. So was Paul Potts, the winner of the first season of the show.
Both of them got condescending smiles when they walked on stage. Both were judged immediately. But they had enough confidence to sign up, walk on that stage in front of thousands of people and three beatiful and famous people, and sing their hearts out. And I was the 100 millionth person to watch them sing, and think "Oh how wonderful, blah blah blah." I realize that I'm not the first person to think these things.
What really got me about their stories wasn't the ugly-duckling-turned-swan thing, it wasn't the frog-turned-prince thing. It was the thought that there are so many little kids (and grown kids) out there who are automatically judged as worthless by their teachers, parents, peers, and even strangers. They don't look pretty, or they're not smart, or they're poor, so they're not given any opportunity to shine, to sing, to dream, or to succeed. And I think that is a damned shame. If there's a lesson to be learned here, it's believe in everybody, because I think everyone has something to contribute.
Oh my gosh that was so sappy, sorry.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/18/arts/television/18boyle.html?em=&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1240264885-0sgHH531EqtMKak1YhhwSQ
I was was the 40 millionth person to read an article about Susan Boyles, the unlikely singing sensation from Britain's Got Talent, and had some thoughts about confidence. Here is a woman, with no job, not conventionally pretty or fashionable, and 47 years old - certainly past her prime by most standards. So was Paul Potts, the winner of the first season of the show.
Both of them got condescending smiles when they walked on stage. Both were judged immediately. But they had enough confidence to sign up, walk on that stage in front of thousands of people and three beatiful and famous people, and sing their hearts out. And I was the 100 millionth person to watch them sing, and think "Oh how wonderful, blah blah blah." I realize that I'm not the first person to think these things.
What really got me about their stories wasn't the ugly-duckling-turned-swan thing, it wasn't the frog-turned-prince thing. It was the thought that there are so many little kids (and grown kids) out there who are automatically judged as worthless by their teachers, parents, peers, and even strangers. They don't look pretty, or they're not smart, or they're poor, so they're not given any opportunity to shine, to sing, to dream, or to succeed. And I think that is a damned shame. If there's a lesson to be learned here, it's believe in everybody, because I think everyone has something to contribute.
Oh my gosh that was so sappy, sorry.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/18/arts/television/18boyle.html?em=&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1240264885-0sgHH531EqtMKak1YhhwSQ
Coffee
A pleasent morning for me starts out by making some coffee at home, and bringing it to work with me in the blue Starbucks travel mug that Sarah and I bought probably 10 years ago specifically for non-coffee based drinks. I read the New York Times online for a little bit and then (hopefully) start working.
My favorite kinds of coffee that I've tried at home are of the Eight O'Clock variety, and here I'll share with you my rank-order preferences.
(1) Red Bag (original): Very good. Possibly my favorite.
(2) Purple Bag: Also very good, sometimes too bitter. But it smells exactly like chocoalte when you open the bag.
(3) Brown Bag: This one's okay.
There you have it, guys.
It's raining here and on the 9th floor of Wolverine Tower, it's kinda foggy and you can't see very far. The smell of worms is in the air.
My favorite kinds of coffee that I've tried at home are of the Eight O'Clock variety, and here I'll share with you my rank-order preferences.
(1) Red Bag (original): Very good. Possibly my favorite.
(2) Purple Bag: Also very good, sometimes too bitter. But it smells exactly like chocoalte when you open the bag.
(3) Brown Bag: This one's okay.
There you have it, guys.
It's raining here and on the 9th floor of Wolverine Tower, it's kinda foggy and you can't see very far. The smell of worms is in the air.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Ruminations on Gardening
Today I planted seeds for my first-ever garden. People don't tell you (I guess namely my Dad and the blogosphere didn't tell me) that planting seeds is kind of scary. Why? Because I've put so much planning and thought and excitement into these little babies, and I don't want them to die. I have to protect them from rabbits and nasty squirrels by fencing them and buying coyote pee in a jar at Meijer. And I will protect them, because I would really like to eat the vegetables that come out of them. Here is my plan (click to enlarge):
Hopefully it will look like that only less cartoony when everything has grown for real!
Other fun things that happened today included painting my nails summer-red, and trying on all of the summer dresses that I have. 70 degree days will make you do that. AND I got a sunburn on the back of my arm when I was watering all the freshly-planted seeds!
Summer, I'm so ready for you.
Hopefully it will look like that only less cartoony when everything has grown for real!
Other fun things that happened today included painting my nails summer-red, and trying on all of the summer dresses that I have. 70 degree days will make you do that. AND I got a sunburn on the back of my arm when I was watering all the freshly-planted seeds!
Summer, I'm so ready for you.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Diggin' on Judith Warner from N.Y. Times
I've really come to enjoy Judith Warner's column (blog?) "Domestic Disturbances" in the New York Times. To me, she has a really insightful way of discussing some really pertanint social issues. Like this week's column (Dude, You've Got Problems), for example, about the implications of boys calling other boys "fags," "queer," and "gay." It's not entirely about homophobia, it's not entirely about bullying. It's about percieved femininity. I'd encourage you to read the whole thing here: http://warner.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/16/who-are-you-calling-gay/.
It was one reader's comment about that post, though, that really stuck with me. "I went to a conference on bisexuality about 15 years ago. A woman there said to me, "I wish you gay men would stop putting your energy into fighting homophobia and instead put your energy into eradicating misogyny. Because the problem society has with gay men isn't that they're with other men - it's that they're men who are "acting like women." If it were ok to be a woman in this culture, homophobia would just disappear." I think she's right." (Jess Thompson-Adams).
And, in another post (Looking Beyond the Brass Ring), Warner quoted one young woman's insight on achievement and life: "You can be good at a lot of things or bad at a lot of things, and it has virtually no impact on whether or not you are good at life." Right now, I can really relate to that.
I was going to post this on Twitter, but realized it was too long. So there you go, Judith, you warrent a whole blog post.
It was one reader's comment about that post, though, that really stuck with me. "I went to a conference on bisexuality about 15 years ago. A woman there said to me, "I wish you gay men would stop putting your energy into fighting homophobia and instead put your energy into eradicating misogyny. Because the problem society has with gay men isn't that they're with other men - it's that they're men who are "acting like women." If it were ok to be a woman in this culture, homophobia would just disappear." I think she's right." (Jess Thompson-Adams).
And, in another post (Looking Beyond the Brass Ring), Warner quoted one young woman's insight on achievement and life: "You can be good at a lot of things or bad at a lot of things, and it has virtually no impact on whether or not you are good at life." Right now, I can really relate to that.
I was going to post this on Twitter, but realized it was too long. So there you go, Judith, you warrent a whole blog post.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Happy Weekend!
This weekend has been pretty good. Friday, we dressed up as villains for Tasha and Bridget's birthday party - I was Rosalyn from Calvin and Hobbes, and Aaron was the East German Bobsled Team guy who gives the Jamaican team shit in Cool Runnings. We drank a ton of wine, ate tiny cupcakes, and socialized our metaphorical pants off.
Saturday was the MSU-UCONN game, and because the Final Four games were in Detroit, we decided to head down and check out the sights. They had a cool thing on the Riverfront called the Big Dance, where the Pussycat Dolls played a free show. You might not be at the peak of your career if you're playing a show, free of charge, in Detroit, for the NCAA basketball tournament. But I could be wrong. Here's a video of them singing:
Notice the 10 year old girls on their Dad's shoulders, enjoying the show. Maybe it's just me, but these ladies really aren't the best role models. And I'm happy to announce that I'm now a big fan of Hu$tle King, who gave me a copy of his break-out Jesus rap album, YUNG B.I.G. (Believing In God). I gave him 5 bucks, and Aaron and I enjoyed his faith-filled beats all the way back to yuppie Ann Arbor.
We watched the first half of the game at St. Andrew's Hall, which as those of you from the area know isn't really set up for a sports-watching party, though it lends itself well.
We consumed some cheap beer and then went to Niki's Restaurant in Greektown. Delicious pizza, terrible service. Instead of going back to East Lansing to celebrate with our Spartan friends, we decided that we'd had too much Spartan Spirit for one day and went home to watch a movie, "The Edge," with Anthony Hopkins and a very young and sassy Alec Baldwin. There were a lot of bears, and I am terrified of being attacked by one now.
Today has been filled with laundry, sprinkling cayenne pepper on my newly-emerging tulips to deter horrible hungry squirrels, and a trip to Meijer to buy pineapple and bacon for our pizza tonight, as well as some of those strips for your nose that peel out all the blackheads (yes!).
Saturday was the MSU-UCONN game, and because the Final Four games were in Detroit, we decided to head down and check out the sights. They had a cool thing on the Riverfront called the Big Dance, where the Pussycat Dolls played a free show. You might not be at the peak of your career if you're playing a show, free of charge, in Detroit, for the NCAA basketball tournament. But I could be wrong. Here's a video of them singing:
Notice the 10 year old girls on their Dad's shoulders, enjoying the show. Maybe it's just me, but these ladies really aren't the best role models. And I'm happy to announce that I'm now a big fan of Hu$tle King, who gave me a copy of his break-out Jesus rap album, YUNG B.I.G. (Believing In God). I gave him 5 bucks, and Aaron and I enjoyed his faith-filled beats all the way back to yuppie Ann Arbor.
We watched the first half of the game at St. Andrew's Hall, which as those of you from the area know isn't really set up for a sports-watching party, though it lends itself well.
Today has been filled with laundry, sprinkling cayenne pepper on my newly-emerging tulips to deter horrible hungry squirrels, and a trip to Meijer to buy pineapple and bacon for our pizza tonight, as well as some of those strips for your nose that peel out all the blackheads (yes!).
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