If it seems like I've forgotten,

I haven't.  But I have forgotten how to spell. How does that even happen to a person who was so religious about spelling once?  I find that so strange.  I just forgot how to spell forgotten. (?)

We're still here in the arctic tundra in which I live (remind me to move someday, ok?).

I'm still jogging... in the arctic tundra.  (Which is interesting.)

There was one time, in 2010, I cut pretty much all my hair off.  It's finally growing back.  This is me:

Left- me, Christmas 2012.  Top right, me, Sept 2010, right before I chopped my hair off!  Bottom right, me, Sept 2010, after I chopped my hair off.

It's interesting how people grow and change all the time.  For example:  I used to have an extensive list of likes and dislikes.  And I thought, hey!  That's me!  Recently, though, I read this quote and it struck me near dead.

“You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself: it’s also the flinch.  Your personality is not set in stone. You may think a morning coffee is the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it’s really just a habit. Thirty days without it, and you would be fine. You think you have a soul mate, but in fact you could have had any number of spouses. You would have evolved differently, but been just as happy. 

You can change what you want about yourself at any time. You see yourself as someone who can’t write or play an instrument, who gives in to temptation or makes bad decisions, but that’s really not you. It’s not ingrained. It’s not your personality. Your personality is something else, something deeper than just preferences, and these details on the surface, you can change anytime you like. 

If it is useful to do so, you must abandon your identity and start again. Sometimes, it’s the only way.
Set fire to your old self. It’s not needed here. It’s too busy shopping, gossiping about others, and watching days go by and asking why you haven’t gotten as far as you’d like. This old self will die and be forgotten by all but family, and replaced by someone who makes a difference.

Your new self is not like that. Your new self is the Great Chicago Fire—overwhelming, overpowering, and destroying everything that isn’t necessary.” 

- Julien Smith

In October, I decided to be healthier.  I didn't feel very good about myself most of the time, and it was mostly because I chose to eat pretty recklessly and never exercised.  It was one of those things--those things where I thought, well, that's just me!  I ate whatever and felt terrible and complained privately about it all.  And I looked at myself in photos and I looked at other people and I'd wish maybe I'd look better, or that my clothes would fit better.  I kept thinking of clothes I could buy to hide this or that or a certain way to stand in photos to hide it.  I hated being that person; I never talked with other people about it besides maybe my sisters or mom and housband because I genuinely dislike when people speak badly of themselves.  The world's hard enough--we don't need to be so awful to ourselves.  I can recognize that, and yet, I still did it.

Here's the thing.  My housband and I talked about it one night after I expressed frustration to him about the way I looked and being so badly out of shape, and how I didn't want to start jogging only to have to stop because of the horrible winter weather.  He stopped me and said this:  these are just excuses.  You might be scared to actually do something different.  But if you want to accomplish something, you have to be motivated.  Nobody can make you do it, and you don't have to do it.  But if you complain about it and you want to do something about it, you have to do it.  The weather doesn't matter.  It's just a bigger cover-up for the fact that you're not truly motivated if things like the weather stop you.  (Or you know, something like that.)

That's when the synapses connected for me.  I needed to do this for myself.  Not for my husband, my babies, my mom, my sisters, my friends, the people at my church, my dogs, whoever.  It has to be for me.  And I have to be the one to keep myself going, because nobody else is ever going to light that fire for me if I can't do it myself.

Since October, I've lost almost 30 pounds.  I would post before and after photos, but truthfully, I don't really like the idea.  Mostly because I think before photos are a little mean-spirited, and I'm choosing to be kind to myself instead of being mean and shaming what I looked like.  There's too much shaming in the world, and there's too much of that in my head anyway.  I don't know if it's the photographer in me, but I'd really rather be behind my camera than in front of it, too.

I like myself in all shapes and forms, but there are some photos my housband took of me at Bear Lake this summer that were huge eye-openers for me, and I'll probably keep them forever if only as a reminder that I need to treat myself better.  I look back and realize the way I looked was perfectly ok, by the way--I just didn't feel good about myself, and I think it's ok to change things about yourself if it's in a healthy, productive way.  I was not healthy, I didn't feel good about myself, and I felt sick a lot of the time.  If I have days now where I don't eat that well, I can absolutely tell a difference.  I kind of like that.  

This is all to say:  I'm not done yet.  And my secret?  Eating better and exercise.  Hard work, basically.  And it feels really good.  I feel better in my clothes, and it gives me something to be proud of besides the beautiful babies I have.

So, yes.  I've grown up a lot.  I feel pretty good about it.

P.S.

My toe did NOT get better on its own.  I had to visit the doctor, and he CUT IT!!!!

So, there's that.  And I'm still soaking it, but finding time to do 3 times a day is just not happening so much.  I had to go on antibiotics (for the third time this year) because it was pretty bad, and now I'm having complications from those... so.... awesome...?

Just in case you were wondering about my health.  I just KNOW you were curious.

Life and all about it, lately.

I've been kind of a bad blogger, but truth be told, I feel ok about it, mostly because posting from my mobile telephone isn't the most pleasant experience.  (Because we don't have internet at home.) (And just got rid of cable television.)  (Hello, Siberia, it's nice to live here.)

But then I remember that I'll want to remember the ins and outs of life before we have two kids (holy cow, that still seems weird to me) and life will be totally different.

So, lately, we're watching a lot of movies.  We opted out of TV for budgetary reasons, but I've actually not really minded not having it.

Our heat went out about a week ago, and therefore I'm so SO grateful for a now-working furnace.  This has actually happened to us twice before in our current apartment, and the last time, it was the middle of winter.  We have two space heaters already, lucky for us, but they're not ideal--better that than nothing, though, because it's cold.  Our landlord called a guy and said it was a 5-minute fix; I guess there was a piece of plastic caught in it somewhere that made it not work properly?  I'm not completely sure, but after being admittedly quite grumpy since being pregnant, I was not too happy until I came home for lunch one day and there was heat.

Also fun:  I have some sort of weird bug bites on my leg.  I saw my doctor and a dermatologist last week and they're going away, but they've been here for 2-or-so weeks.  I debated writing about this at all here, but since I've completely stopped writing in my journal for now and, sad to say, this is the closest thing I have to a journal, I kinda want to remember the funny little things that seem to happen to me and NEVER ever not once to my housband--I guess I'm glad he's healthy.  (Sort of like how last winter I got a cough which may have cracked a rib, several colds in a row, bacterial laryngitis, then another cold with an ear infection--and he got nothing.  All winter.)  Anyway, the dermatologist thinks they're flea bites, but after having my dogs checked out and finding they're flea-free, I'm thinking they're probably not.  I originally thought they were hives due to being pretty stressed out about being my brother's wedding photographer/flying to San Francisco/flying while pregnant with twins, but they are not hives either!  So weird.

Oh yeah.  I went to San Francisco.  I've never been there before and didn't see too much of it, but it was absolutely beautiful, and I forgot what Utah winter was like, only to be rudely reminded upon leaving the airport in Salt Lake.  All of my siblings were at my brother's wedding, all of us in the Temple, but none of our spouses/kids came (except for my kids, I don't really have a choice right now).  It was a little weird without the hubbub of everyone, but strangely natural.  I kinda like those guys.  Their husbands/wives/kids are pretty cool, too, and I missed them.  But it was kind of cool to have the original 5 of us together.

I have a new photography website coming up, and I honestly think all my brain power is being swallowed by babies because I'm having the most difficult time of figuring out the most simple things, so it might be a little bit before I can get it up and going.  My photo blog is still kind of a thing, but again... no internet at home... kinda hard. 

Lastly, I'll leave you with two photos of my buddies.

Here's my housband holding the dogs (who were flailing wildly).  I'd like to say he doesn't carry the giant one around, but he kind of does.  (Don't tell him I told you.)  Also, he decided he and Bert are best friends around Thanksgiving, and Bert promptly forgot I existed and refused to acknowledge me at all.  So now Pedro* has begun to ignore Bert once again, and Bert likes me once more.  I'd be lying if I said I don't worry our kids will do the same.  (I semi-secretly wonder why everybody loves Pedro and thinks I'm boring?  Yeah Pedro's fun and all, children, adults, animals and everyone in between.  BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?)

(*Again, not his real name, it just gets difficult to not call my housband by a name, ok?)

And when we ride in the car, Bagheera gets tired and Bert decides to sit on him.  I don't know why.  Perhaps for a better view out the window?  Possibly.  The dog's not the brightest, but sometimes I wonder if he just acts dumb but secretly knows a lot of stuff.  Could be.

I'm about 18-19 weeks right now, and feeling pretty good.  I recently got a different kind of prenatal vitamins, but I think I'll switch back because these ones are making more nauseous than I've been the whole time I've been pregnant.  Oh, and about the 18-19 weeks thing?  I originally based how far along I am on the first-day-of-my-last-period thing, but then my doctor gave me a different due date, which is almost a week later than I originally thought, so I don't know which I am, really.  I generally think I'm 19 weeks (because twins come early, most often).  Is that weird?  Do you see how my brain is not working?

This is such a long blog post.  I'm so sorry about that.

Leading me.

Once when I was younger, I was at a playground with monkey bars with my dad and brothers and sisters.

I decided to do the monkey bars by myself.  Naturally, I saw someone I knew vaguely, and decided I was going to show off my gymnastic ability by letting go of the bar I was holding with both hands, and swinging my hands--simultaneously--to the next bar. 

Did I mention I wasn't very tall at the time?  Probably 7 or 8.  So:  not real tall.

After opening my eyes from the jolt, my behind hurt.  Real bad.  And said person who I may or may not have been trying to impress was laughing at me.  I was shocked to realize that I had not, in fact, made the leap from one bar to the other with both hands at the same time and instead, I had landed, rather unpleasantly, on my behind--which hurt of a broken and bruised feeling.  I was not a gymnast!  It was rudely revealed to me, though I had never had any real training in it besides watching the summer olympics and doing flips off the swings in my backyard (though the real talent in that would come later--remind me to tell you about it some time). 

Don't you ever feel like life is like that?  You're aiming for something, it feels totally within reach, and then life rings your bell and says, NOPE.  Not today. 

Sometimes I feel like that. 

Sometimes life tells me NOPE.  Sometimes life says you're not a photographer, a writer, a good maker of your home, a good wife, good at drawing, good at being on time (though that will always, I fear, be true), a good dog owner, not very creative, not very good at much.

But the thing is, lately, I haven't felt that way.  I know there are days when I feel that way so strongly it's suffocating, but lately I feel as though I'm along for the ride--my life is leading me instead of the other way around. 

I guess you could say I'm more of a follower than a leader in that aspect.

Instead of fighting it and feeling frustrated, I see the wide open bowl of the valley in which I live and ink-black sky with honeyed stars on late night bike rides, and I feel like I can breathe so deeply.  As though my lungs are becoming full of air for the first time in a long time.  As though anything can be mine if I just relax and don't fight the natural flow. 

It's a peaceful place to be--knowing that everything will be fine.  That things will be even better if I don't fight so hard for control.

And that even if I shouldn't like this photo because it's not technically perfect, I don't care.  I love it with abandon.

However, I still wish I could've made the leap from one bar to the other, all at once. 

My pockets are like clouds, white and fluffy.

Today I have been ANGRY!  It seems like every once in a while, something just sets me off, and then I'm just so mad I can't get over it for a while.  Today, it was a spreadsheet.  Most often, it's a spreadsheet. 

And then I'm mean to my housband, short with my dogs, I eat tons of junk food, and I just want to keep on feeling miserable.

I am not an angry person.  Generally.  But every so often....... whoozies.  Watch out. 

This weekend, we went to Huntsville, Utah, USA, which was actually wonderful.  I've noticed a trend:  I don't like a place until I've seen it.  And then I want to move there immediately.  Such is the case with Huntsville.  I loved it so much I would kiss it if I could.  I took a bunch of photos, and I will let you know when I get around to sending the film off to a fabulous vacation in Los Angeles or Orem.  You know, Orem, Utah. 

My film gets better vacations than I do.

I'm still kind of mad and I feel rage in my heart, so I think I'm going to go punch-dance it out. 

K.  See ya.

Things you didn't know about me;

also could be called:  things you don't necessarily want to know about me, but it's my blog so I'll write them anyway.  This is my time capsule for winter 2010.  (Remember this one from April?)

I bet you didn't know:

I think about

• Kudzu.  A lot.  (How is that not fascinating to generally everyone?  Rogue vines? Seriously?)

Photo from here.  Caption from the website:  Abandoned houses in Georgia taken over by kudzu

• Pangea
• whether picking up a bug of any kind will alter its course so drastically it will never find its way home

 I used to

• Play the violin (for 9 years)
• Throw my vitamins behind our old upright piano instead of taking them
• Spend my last few dollars after paying rent, etc. (when I lived with roommates) on books

I would like

• a bearded collie named Ricky
• a gramophone/phonograph
• to be a really good road biker and/or swimmer (without flippers)
•  

I'm annoyed by

• people who talk down about themselves
• people who talk about their weight (I think it's weirdly personal, and as a photographer, I honestly have never looked at a person and thought they didn't look good as they were) & people who talk about how they need to lose weight
• slow internet

These things

• The song "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"
• Certain movies about families (I watched the Family Stone the other night, and I forgot how much I like that movie)

...make me nearly cry

Happiness, for me, is

• My warm puppies

I worry a lot about

• my family
• making it in life
• not being able to relax (which is totally counter-productive)

I go through phases, like

• collecting bowls, blankets, geodes or other natural rock formations
• decorating with dried flowers/weeds I find
• wishing to move to California or another warmish climate so badly I can't concentrate on daily life (and then I take a vacation there and proceed to function normally)
• eating cereal for almost every meal
• playing my guitar
• wearing long john bottoms every single day

I am

• worried that my non-existent (for now) kids will grow up way too fast
• really good at sleeping
• a Jason Mraz live show junkie (almost) (just in terms of liking his live stuff BEST)
• interested in learning how to weld, be a carpenter (sort of), designing of any kind
• a total dog lover
• a wife to a cool dude

annnnnnnd, that's all.  See you later.

Today.

I would like to remember today--best day I've had in a LONG time.  The sort of day where I fist-pump and dance like a maniac--complete with head-banging--just because things are SO GOOD.

So good that I am now sharing some Natalie Dee with you.  That means it's a good day.

Annnnnnd to finish off, I love you.  YEP.  That good.

The other night,

I was reading a book. 

I tried to go to bed at a respectable time, like a respectable adult.  Instead, I lied awake and thought thought thought about the book.  And how sometimes I felt that way--the way the main character thinks and feels.  Like I was losing my mind or am I still?  Maybe I am.  Maybe life is like a delicate thread, you're a little on either side, sane or insane.  You're a little bit both.  Anyway, I finally decided to go for it--obviously I wasn't getting any sleep until I continued--so I turned on my book light at 2 or so in the a.m. and read until I finished, around 3 a.m.

And I felt that I had it a lot more together afterward.  I guess I need to be better about not sponging emotions or ideas from things which surround me. 

Lately, I've felt that I'm not very good at playing "adult."  I'm not very good at a lot of things.  All I can do, for now, is love my family, love my friends, and give them parts of myself that I can.  All I really have is two hands... but they can do a lot of good, I've learned.

Life is hard, but it's good.  Life has been hard lately.  Lots of hard things have happened, and I think about this all the time, but life is fragile.  Let go of unimportant things.  Don't hold grudges against those you love--it's just not worth it.  I'm not trying to preach--instead, I write these things often to remind myself.  Sometimes I forget. 

I'm at my sister's house, taking care of her kids while she's at the hospital with her husband, my brother-in-law.  My nieces and nephew are so precious.  Sometimes it's hard to say that about bickering 9 and 6 year-olds, but they are.  It's wonderful to care for another person's family, to feel trusted in that way.  And to watch after kids who are so obviously loved. 

I am quite tired, and it's not even 11.  I miss my dog and husband, and my little home and regular life.  I've only been here one day, but it's still been a good day. 

What a strange transition it is--going from no kids to three (two who are pretty independent and one who is... well... not so much).  I have so much praise for parents, and especially working parents.  It's hard.  But loving them is easy.

I'm sorry, Gary Coleman.

I hope it wasn't me that cursed you... but I really didn't know you were going to pass away. Rest in peace, Gary.

I just had to get that off my chest.

Moving on...

Reasons why I am an old lady:

1. My favorite game to play is backgammon. Have you ever even heard of it? Do you play it? I guess the only thing that qualifies me to be a young person here is that I play it exclusively on my phone.

2. My second favorite game as of late? Othello. Also on my phone. Also not a game young people play, from what I can gather.

3. My back is generally ache-y.

4. If I sit in one position too long, my legs get really stiff. (Unless I'm sitting in a chair. Generally, this one's only if I'm sitting on the floor.)

5. I could probably doze off at any given time, no matter how much sleep I've gotten previously. (Perhaps that's just a sleep disorder.)

6. I can/but haven't tried to put my hair in the old lady "puff." You know what I'm talking about. The consistency of my hair, lately, is that of an old lady puff. It's odd.

7. Occasionally, I say inappropriate things. Mostly to my husband. And yet.

8. I laugh at lots of things I say. They're not particularly funny. (My grandma does that... does yours?)

9. I think about the good ol' days a lot. Hi. I'm 23.

10. I'm kind of grumpy a lot lately. I have no real reason to be... I'm just grumpy at air and stuff. I don't really know.

Annnnnnnnnd that's about it for today. Are you an old lady too? Is there anybody out there?

Photos of my grandma were taken by me, October 2009.

So

I have something I want to tell you.

We have some visitors... actually, permanent residents... in our apartment.

We are paying rent for them to stay.

And they live in the roof.


Ok, so they're birds. And I know they're in there because they wake me up pretty much every morning. I've never heard such strange scraping sounds in my life. It never really bothered me until recently, when I realized I should write about them--there's a probable nest up there, too, what with baby birds chirping and all.  I generally think nothing exciting is going on in my life but then I realized having birds--uninvited ones, nonetheless--for roommates is somewhat exciting.

I wouldn't mind it so much if I weren't extremely paranoid about the amount of poop that's most likely up there, which is probably also diseased (I watched a TV show about a pigeon infestation once--let's just say it ruined me).

And I've felt sick (again), which makes me wonder if it's the disease creeping into our apartment.

Yes, I could call my landlord. Why I haven't is a story for another day... oh boy.

This is not a photo of one of the birds in my attic. However, I did take it. I thought I'd spice all this up with a photo. Because why not?


In other news, I am still scouting out dogs from the shelter which I can adopt.  (Note: we cannot afford another dog, nor do we have the space.  And yet.)  

I have been trying to "shrink" myself and figure out why, psychologically, I can't be happy with the one I've got already (I am happy with him, I just want another dog to love).  And then I think of the line from Paul Blart, Mall Cop, something about peanut butter filling the cracks of the heart.

But in this case, my peanut butter is a fluffy, loveable shelter dog.  

What I can't figure out is what's missing?   Perhaps I've got an unfulfilled need.  If you could tell me what that is, that would be great.

Lastly, I've been drawing a lot lately.  And I don't know how many of you are into art, but do you know of any artists, particularly artists who primarily draw, that you really love?  I'll tell you who mine are in a minute.... aka in another post...

Anyway.  It's Monday.  My dog's not eating anything but grass (?).  Don't worry, we asked the vet about it.  It feels as though it's going to be a long week.   I have to go relax now.  

Spring makes the world happy

Soon, the trees will be blooming.

We picked up our cruiser bikes last Friday night and since, I've been on five bike rides.  Today, Bagheera pulled me over with a big CRASHBANG because he had to go poop.

That little dog is strong.

Anyway, I didn't care so much except that my bike now makes weird noises, probably because of the basket and the way it's hooked on, but oh well.

The next-door neighbors were out back when I went to unlock my bike before we left.  Bagheera went to visit them and generally put his paws on them while wagging his tail so hard his entire back half swayed from side to side.  She (the neighbor) said (after I told her it might be an interesting ride with a leashed dog), good luck!  When I came back, she said, you made it!  And I said, yes, but he pulled me over once, and now my bike makes noises.

Isn't life so silly sometimes. 

Also, the neighbors are really very nice, and I don't know why, but I haven't really bothered before.  So maybe I'll make some new friends.  But they're neater than me, and I can tell because they were doing laundry today--I haven't done mine in over a week and my bedroom's messy.

Huh.

I just finished looking through over 1,000 of my grandpa's negatives which my uncle scanned last summer.  I think I'll share more because they make me so happy, and this is my blog, and I like posting that which makes me happy.

Time capsule

I do this elsewhere a lot, but I'd like to do it here this time.  Here's my time capsule of sorts.

Things which make me emotional lately:

• This great dane.  Dogs like this in general.

(Photos, as always, by the fabulous Sharon Montrose.)

• Looking at the pet adoption site for Cache Valley and finding so many dogs that need a home.  Yep, I'm a total dog person.
• Thinking about getting older
• Thinking about how quickly life passes by 

Songs with which I am in love:

• "Family Tree," TV on the Radio
• "Fables," The Dodos
• "Lille," Lisa Hannigan
• "Follow Me," Thirteen Senses
• "What Is a Life?" Youth Group
• "Wonderful" Gary Go
• "Tik Tok" Ke$ha (It's catchy...)
• "I Guess It's Gonna Rain Today," Sondre Lerche
• "Sunshine Song," Jason Mraz

Favorite article of clothing:

These shoes!

Currently saving for:

• New bedding
• A smaller kitchen table
• A couple lenses for my cameras

Excited about:

• Visiting Arizona in May
• Stopping at a rock shop along the way and admiring HUGE geodes
• Visiting my sister in a couple weeks
• Getting my film back from the best lab in the world
• The way it smells outside, and the sunshine
•  Finding rugs for our apartment so I don't have to sweep every day

Worried about:

• My business
• Yesterday's earthquake
• Whether Bagheera is sick or not... (long story)
• Getting older
• Having enough money

Loving:

• The house we passed on our way back from our anniversary weekend; they had a million peacocks.  White ones and regular ones.  It was a dream!
• Sherlock Holmes, the movie.  Much better than I expected.
• The stack of books I have waiting for me at home.
• My little family

Sick of:

• Laundry
• Not having my bike to ride at our apartment (it's at my in-laws).  I want to ride it!
• Rising gas prices
• The dog eating tree bark... then throwing it up.
• Dishes
• Figuring out what to eat at every meal besides breakfast.  Why is cereal not an acceptable diet?

Considering:

• Graduate school
• Photo shoot ideas (I'm thinking of creative/different ones... any volunteers who want to be photographed?)

I think that's good for now. I'm so excited about the weekend; this week has been so good.  I'm looking forward to spending time with my husband and dog, and seeing old friends at a baby shower.

What are YOU looking forward to this weekend?

The sky is falling

Tonight, I experienced my first earthquake.

I wish I could tell you I handled it calmly. (I guess I did, outwardly.)(Besides finding cover after watching my apartment walls shake and twinkle lights sway with the seismic waves.)

So I crouched between the kitchen table and bar. And then my dog followed me, and proceeded to stand on his back legs and put his front paws on my shoulders. He was giving me a hug, sniffing my hair, licking my ear.

I felt stupid.

My dog thought it was a game, and I wondered if I'd had a psychological breakdown.

A minute later, back on my couch, I looked for information on whether we had an earthquake; I found nothing, and I seriously wondered about my sanity.

Then I looked on facebook. At least four different statuses from friends asked if others felt the quake, and I felt so relieved.

Guys: I'm not crazy.

I am, however, a huge chicken. I am somewhat afraid that a big one is on its way. My husband got home from work and didn't believe that there was an earthquake, and he laughed a bit at my numerous "what if" worries.

We then headed to the dog park, and while my dog ran around, my imagination went wild. Something like a fly stuck in a jar.

I could nearly feel the ground moving, giving me that dizzy feeling I had felt minutes ago. I could feel the old, familiar disorientation I felt as a child after spinning and spinning in circles until my very universe showed its true rotation, synced with the slow turn of the earth. I saw the tall, thin trees falling and the ground split wide in thick cracks. I wondered if the daylight would go away; perhaps the sun itself would fall from its suspension in the sky, like an overripe orange, and I'd hear its lazy, dull thud from miles away. And then darkness. Everywhere.

And that's when I realized I'd gotten carried away.

I watched Bagheera chew on small branches and chase other dogs. The daylight began to fade, and we headed back home.

From where I come

"A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving into a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore but to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out; it is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept the mystery."--From the movie Bright Star, spoken by John Keats' character


Sometimes, I wish I could remember this description while trying to explain my fondness for poetry to others.

This is one of my favorite poems.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands 

ee cummings

I gave this poem to my husband once, and since he's a science-minded fellow, I don't think he particularly understood it.  But, the thing is, it's more about being in the poem, staying in the moment.  It's somewhat nonsensical, but at the same time, it makes perfect sense.  It's not so much literal, but requires Emily Dickinson's sensation: "If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry."  You have to think about it while not thinking about it.

Say the idea is a fly, zooming around my head; I get it, I feel it, it makes sense, it's right there--but it's just far enough that I'm reaching to understand or grasp its sentiments.  That, and it's one of those things where I don't mind the fly zooming and zooming around; perhaps I would be bored if it stopped too easily.


This is why I love ee cummings.  His poetry isn't easy or predictable.  It makes just enough sense, and after that, I make what I want of it.  I think this poem excites me, too, because I get it.  I really do. 

And to my husband:  "nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands"


Tonight, I'm going to eat some ice cream, work on some photos, and hang out with my blue-eyed boy (my dog).  Housband will be out of town at a soccer game, so we're partying on our own.  How's THAT for a Tuesday night?

Speaking of the Times...

Have you ever heard of Maira Kalman?  This last year, she wrote a column each month for The New York Times, mostly political stuff... but more like musings on politics and politicians and their lives, rather than political opinions or writings on current affairs.  She's also an artist and did illustrations for The Elements of Style by Strunk & White, which is a friend to all those who love grammar.

July of 2008, my husband and I took a trip to Las Vegas.  I bought her book, The Principles of Uncertainty, and saved it for the trip.  I had to ration it out (!!) because I knew if I let myself sit with it too long, I'd read it all in one sitting.  It's not particularly heavy reading; there's a lot of illustrations, which she does fabulously, and musings about life in general.  It's a delicious book with paintings, ideas, drawings and quirky ideas... and this could be weird to admit, but I love how much the book weighs--it's kind of heavy--and how it smells.  I guess that's how you know you're a true book lover.

An illustration of a room within the White House.  Image from here.

Anyway, like I said, none of the topics she writes about are heavy-handed or persuasive...  She just sort of IS, and writes about things as they come to her.  She has a book coming out about her "Pursuit of Happiness" blog, about which I am SO excited.  

I guess you could call her writing a folksy "slice of life."  Her work just makes me smile and feel happy, even when the subject about which she's writing isn't even very jubilous (I just made that word up) or maybe even sad.

AND her blog is connected to the NY Times website... big stuff, yes?  I love her illustrations, her handwriting, her ideas... it's thoughtful and a fun read.  You know, if you like that kind of stuff.

So, to recap:  The Times = Good.  Maira Kalman = Awesome.  The Times + Maira Kalman = Goodness that cannot be destroyed, even by robots.

Also:  I was going to share something with you, but I cannot find it on the Internets.  I've had this particular thing stuck in my mind for several days, so until I can find it, you'll just have to wait... which is a bummer.  Because it's totally great.  Trust me.

The Times

When my husband and I were both in college and dating (each other), we'd meet up on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the late morning to have donuts in the hub (common area in our student center). I grew to love that time with him, looking forward to eating sweets (I have a horrible, horrible sweet tooth and I wish I could say I dislike it, but... I love treats) and talking with him.

We'd find a booth and sit together, chat about our days or plans together or separately. Often I'd ask him if we could have an adventure, and he'd begin to plot things like acting like pirates or finding treasure or plundering.

Sometimes, a previous person at the booth where we'd sit would leave a copy of The New York Times. On days like that, we'd spend time looking through the different sections and articles and cultures included within such a small but expansive newspaper.

It makes me wish our local newspaper would try harder, but then again, we do live in a city quite (QUITE) a bit smaller than NYC.

Today, I read this article about Wendy Burden, a descendant of the Vanderbilts. It's kind of interesting to get a little snippet about her life--I love human interest stories.  They also talk a little bit about her memoir, which sounds pretty interesting... I like windows into other people's lives, don't you?  I guess that's why memoirs are so popular.

I think if I ever subscribe to a newspaper, it'll probably be that one. Because you know what? The Times is good. It's real good.

Wendy Burden's home.  Top:  Dining area, bottom:  the outside.  Images from here.

Also, I love the exterior of her home.

I have something else to share with you guys, and if I can track down the video, I'll share it later!

Truth is,

I go to bed every night, thinking about how good my life is... and that's no lie.

But life has its little good parts and little frustrating parts and this is not to say that everything's perfect; though most everything is good, I often get frustrated with myself because I feel I'm not good enough for me (which is weird, but it's just the way I am).

So, I will be ok, and everything is good and fine, and I got to sleep in today because I cleaned up dog sickness at 6 in the morning...... poor puppy.  Guess that's what tree bark does to your digestive system.  Sleeping in is good.

I've been thinking about why I blog and I realized it's mostly to get things out.  I'm not going to try to pretend my life is perfect or that I'm glamorous or even that important, because that would be a total lie.  I'm just myself, and I like to write.  I like to write vignettes about my life, though it will never be a full portrait of my life--I guess that's one disadvantage to blogging, but I doubt I'd ever really share everything in my life with just anyone anyway.

I've realized I worry way too much about what other people think of me, and I really shouldn't, but I'm trying.  Also, I still love the Postal Service (well, the band and the service.  Mail is good, right?).  I am a major dog person.  I love their innocence and ability to live simply, and to love without prejudice.  I'd like to be more like that.  My childhood dog was my best friend when I'd come home from school to nobody.  As a child of divorced parents, she was the best thing to me; she brought me so much joy.  I have this never-ending day dream of living by the beach someday.  I like to see how dirty the floor was after I've mopped.  I also love my couch, and sitting on it with my dog and husband.  I love movies... especially odd ones, or maybe even stupid ones, but I don't care.  They make me happy.  I love my home.  It feels like home.  I really love my siblings.  I dream of being like each of them individually in different ways.  I want to be smart like Aaron, fun like Amy, funny like Adam, and sharing like Adrienne.  And understanding like all of them.  I think it's fun to have that many siblings, and more now that I have stepsisters, too.  I love the way books smell, and I often sniff the books I'm reading.  I like that Borders--the bookstore--smells the same wherever you go, whether it's Utah or New York.  I like film and its element of surprise.  I like musicals.  I'm anxious to see where life will take us, but I'm truly terrified of change.  I try to be a nice person, but sometimes I'm really not that good at it.  I'm shyer than I'd like to be, and often way too timid.  I miss being in school, reading books and speaking German.  I run up my stairs each morning and try to beat the dog to the top, but I never win and I'm actually kind of disappointed about that.  I also used to run up our old apartment stairs when we didn't have a dog, but that was because it was usually dark downstairs and I am weird and believe, somewhat, in zombies.  Oh, and I am afraid of the dark.  So yep.  I'm a weirdo.  And even though I'm mean to myself, especially lately, I like myself.  I laugh at things I say though they're not that funny to other people. 

I think I might go to Borders tonight and buy myself a book.  Maybe I'll let you know how that goes.

In conclusion:  I love life, and thanks for reading this endless random stuff I write.  (Though I'd understand if you didn't.)

I'm afraid I've become a little boring.

Don't I write that often?  Perhaps I haven't become boring, I just embody boring.  But, to be completely honest, my life has been a blur of work, more work, and oh hey!  My photo website.  I haven't really talked about that here, but I've once again realized why it's good for me not to be in school.  I am a neurotic perfectionist.  I know a lot of people say they are, but man, sometimes I wish I'd stop picking on myself because it's kind of brutal.  It's like having a bully that NEVER GOES AWAY.

So, I've been working on this website (not any coding, html, or anything like that, mostly just getting my photos perfect enough for my standards), and I have daily freak outs which equate to I'm not good enough, why am I even bothering, these photos are not good, and goodness... it's exhausting.

I've always been the sort of person that when I do something that's important to me, I do it with everything I've got.  And I tell myself along the way that it's not good enough, it could be better, I suck at life, etc., etc., and somehow, even after all that, it turns out pretty darn good.  It's like those projects in high school--when you see what everyone else shows up with, you're impressed and simultaneously sort of embarrassed with yourself because you knocked yourself out when minimal effort would have been just fine.

But minimal effort is not good enough for me.  In the meantime, I'm in this cycle of self-loathing, and thus I'm just kind of tired.  I've been stuck in this weird whirlwind in my head of thoughts, things I'd like to be doing, things I'd like to change about myself and things about which I need to write. Mostly ideas for some serious writing I'd like to do, more than just blog writing.  It's been almost two years since I graduated from college and I guess now is a good time to get back into it... right?  Anyway.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again--is there any way to get a break from yourself?  Right about now, that would be nice.

However, in all seriousness, I can say that I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I'm getting the I can do this vibe, and it's keeping me going on this project.  I've been working on this site since September (I know, a long time), but just recently I've decided to devote all my time to finishing it.  I can tell it's going to be worth it, if only just for me to see my best work all put together and feel good that I accomplished something that huge.

In other news, I walked my dog today and the sun was out.  It's actually been sunny a bit here and there, and today I went for a walk.  It felt like a revelation, nay, a miracle!  I had to take my coat off and unzip my jacket because I got so warm, and I think my face got a little sunburnt... about which I'm not surprised because my skin is very fair. 

Also, I used to try to pretend that I was cool, but now I've realized who cares.  So I want to tell you that I love Mandy Moore's song, "Ladies' Choice."  Also, I love her movies, pretty much all of them.  Also:  I've never heard more than one of Phoenix's (the band) song, and I can't even remember it.  I am tragically un-hip.  I just want to put on some Corinne Bailey Rae and wear some stretchy pants--is that too much to ask?

(That will only be funny to you if you know me, Nacho Libre, and the fact that I prefer wearing long johns around the apartment after walks withOUT pants over them.)

And now I will leave you with some photos that make me happy.

This is my niece!  At the ocean!  She is really funny... I'll have to tell you more about her later.

Someday I will have a freshly-shaven husband again.... someday.  Also, that is not our child.  He's just a surrogate.  From my sister.  Also known as my nephew.

I got them jimmy legs.

I can't help it. When I sit, especially at work, I bounce my legs. Hard. And fast.

Do you ever do that?

I don't hate it. In fact, I find it soothing.

As I fell asleep

I think I should tell you by now, this far into our relationship, dear blog:  I have a problem falling asleep.  It's rare for me to be able to fall asleep right after my head meets the pillow.  Instead, I lie between the covers, thinking of things and becoming alternately hot and cold as I move one leg outside the covers, then back again.

I occasionally also curse our neighbor's front porch light, which shines right into our window; no matter how tight I turn the blinds, there's still plenty of light.

Anyway, last night, I was thinking of what to do with myself and what to write about here, mostly because my life is kind of predictable lately:  work, photography, time at home... not a lot of adventures.  It's dark when I get off work.

SO.  I have decided to start writing lists.  Boring, right?  But it's something, rather than nothing.

For my first list:  My top 10 favorite places I've ever been.

1.  Ithaca, New York
2.  Laguna Beach, California
3.  Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina
4.  The Frog Spot, Connecticut (I'll have to write about that later)
5.  Boston, Massachusetts
6.  Santa Monica, California
7.  Los Angeles (especially Beverly Hills), California
8.  Balboa Island/Newport, California
9.  Minnetrista, Muncie, Indiana
10.  Gloucester, Massachusetts

Apparently, I need to go more places.  Still--in my mind, I can see a clear picture of each place in my mind.  If only you could see in there, too.  It'd be better than any photograph!  I should probably move to California.

Lastly, I think Sharon Montrose is trying to kill me.  I think it's not a coincidence that she posted these photos of golden retriever puppies on her blog yesterday.  It's a sign from the universe:  I need a golden retriever puppy.  Also, I'm pretty sure she's living my dream life of photographing animals. 

Both images by Sharon Montrose.

And with this issue of crazy, I'm going now.