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Stories on Stories: The Feast of Love (PLUS CRAZY NEWS)

2012-01-26T21:05:00.000-05:00

My family vacationed on Block Island about 12 years ago. I was a sophomore in college and I remember us all feeling young. We talked about how we, the three kids, might return to the island the next year, how I'd take care of Kate and Steve by working at the island's newspaper. I remember worrying vaguely about how we'd make rent.

I was very anxious about my parents, who must have been arguing. In the haze of my memories, I remember almost no details but the vivid, twisted feeling in my gut that results from parental disagreements.

On this vacation, I bought a book that would become legend in my life: The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter. I picked it up because I am often attracted to books about love and because the cover looked calming.

I've read it at least 15 times. At last count, I had three copies on our bookshelves. I acquire copies of this book, never knowing when I might need to give one away. At used bookstores, I make my way to the Bs, looking to see if anyone has marked up a copy and left it for me to snatch up.

One of the copies, the one I am currently rereading, was with me in Paris. When I loaned it out, I asked people to underline their favorite sections and write their names and page numbers in the inside back cover. As I re-read this time, I encounter Blythe's and Corinne's and Evelyn's and Angela's notes. It is like reading with friends.

This is a book about the ways we each see our relationships from different angles. It's a smart book about love, one that allows for break-ups and divorce... but also magic and fate. I once broke up with a guy because he hated the character of Diana and said he saw nothing good in her.

I see tiny parts of myself in Diana.

This time around, I noticed the strong female characters. My favorite lines hummed as I read them. A few:

"When people are staring off into their neighborhood infinity, before they see me, what are they thinking about? That's what I'm trying to grasp. I think they're stupefied, thinking about love, mostly, how they once had it, how they got it, how they lost it, and all the people they loved or didn't love, how they ended up royally hating somebody, like, the weirdness and wetness of it."

"Every relationship has at least one really good day. What I mean is, no matter how sour things go, there's always that day. That day is always in your possession. That's the day you remember. You get old and you think: well, at least I had that day. It happened once. You think all the variables might just line up again. But they don't. Not always. I once talked to a woman who said, 'Yeah, that's the day we had an angel around."

Last weekend I started my re-read. From time to time, I've reached out to Charles Baxter on his website. He always writes back. On Sunday I sent him a new message, the first one in 5 years. I told him how much the book has meant to me. I told him there's an item on my Life List about taking him to lunch. I told him I may be in Minneapolis this spring. I asked him if I could buy him a sandwich.

And you guys? He said yes.

Looks like we're going to Minnesota. Holy, holy crap.

What happens when you order a hat online and are unclear how to wear it.

2012-01-23T21:09:00.000-05:00

You've done it before. Ordered an accessory online. It arrives, you don't know how to wear it, and Banana Republic has taken all photos of humans wearing it offline.

We got creative.

Fashion nervous.

"You kind of look like a pirate."

Sleeping hat?

Does the seam go in the front?

Better, I think...

This man will rob you.

Or... have the wool pulled over his eyes.

French Ollie.

Oscar the Sultan. Obvs.

"Don't quit. Don't quit. Don't quit. Don't quit."*

2012-01-22T10:39:00.000-05:00

I hesitate to write about writing here. Mostly because it jinxes me. "Hey everyone, I'm writing a book!" I write, and suddenly 3 days later I stop writing a book because I am tired or sick or stressed or busy, and then I feel like an idiot.

No one wants to be the girl who cries "productive book-writer."

Nonetheless, that is what I've been doing since my birthday. Chris and I tried a new schedule last week, one that involves us getting up REALLY early and spending a little more than an hour in a cafe each morning. I write, he codes (or learns or invents or a number of other fun-sounding adjectives). Then we go to work.

For the millionth time, I relearn the lesson that to do something (anything, really), you just have to do it. There are no shortcuts. You cannot run a marathon by talking about it and you can't write a book by thinking about it. You just have to write.

I spend 10-15 minutes every single morning thinking what shit it all is. "This is terrible," I think. "I am ESL. I am not creative. No one will read this. I will never finish it. I should be doing a million other things, things that I am better at."

Finally, I give up. "OK," I say to myself. "It's terrible. But keep going anyway."

And that's where I'm at.

*Charles Baxter's advice for writers

31

2012-01-14T21:44:00.001-05:00

Also captured at 30, 29, 28, 27 and 26.

Approaching.

2012-01-12T21:24:00.001-05:00

New Year's Eve.

I bought a blazer last night. I bought a blazer and a pair of jeans and a sweater and a dress that I'm going to wear tomorrow night for Birthday Eve drinks.

I needed to look the part of a 31-year-old.

The day we returned to NYC from Christmas, I stopped by Origins in Grand Central and bought a lipstick called Ruby Slippers. Lipstick had always, always seemed something false that old ladies got stuck on their yellowed teeth. Recently it has seemed like a great idea.

I had been thinking that my last month of being 30 was for digging my nails in. It turns out, I've been subconsciously taking steps towards 31 this whole time.

Now, instead of feeling scared of the vagueness that is 31, I feel empowered to paint it however I wish. At the end of the year, I'll think: 31 was the year I wore blazers with jeans. The year I took a gigantic step in my career and started helping to manage the company I work for. The year I reached out to older and wiser people - not only for advice, but about the ways I was becoming their peer.

For a long time I thought that the best changes were the ones you knew immediately, like a kick in the gut, like a squeeze of the heart. But I am slowly coming around to the notion that the unknown is a space worth pausing in. I had a phone chat with a fellow Camp Mighty-er today, someone I respect a bunch. "When you're not sure," she said, "stay where you are and open your mind."

I'm still not totally sure about 31. But I'm going to stay where I am, on track for a birthday this weekend. My mind is open. I'm ready to see what this is all going to be about.

Better.

2012-01-10T20:07:00.000-05:00

Tonight when I left work I decided to walk for a while before I got in the subway. I headed down 3rd avenue, crossing busy 42nd Street, and I passed a man who dropped his glove. I noticed it out of the corner of my eye, enough to make me turn my head to see the full drop, but I was walking quickly and listening to a podcast and a few yards further when I fully realized the scene.

I didn't stop to tell him.

There had been a split second when I could have turned back, when he wouldn't have been lost in the sidewalk crowd. But I actively decided not to stop him. I'm not quite sure why.

I then spent the next 30 blocks thinking about this lack of movement on my part. I imagined how much the gloves had cost him, how disappointed he would be when he realized his loss. To tell the truth, I kind of beat myself up about it.

I felt like a bad human being. Like a bad New Yorker. And the worst part was that a part of me didn't care.

Yesterday I made a list in my head of all the things I could still end up being. Singer-songwriter. Doctor. Trader Joe's check-out person. Life Coach. Librarian. Director of Fun Programs at a Senior Citizen Center. Florist, farmer, writer, baker, tour guide, cross-stitcher, yoga instructor, B&B owner, actress, historian. Mom. Sommelier. Aunt. Giraffe trainer.

The freedom to imagine that grand, sweeping changes could still occur in this life is one of my most precious needs.

The part that kills me is that someone pointed out my dropped glove just last week. It was on the sidewalk outside our building when I was shuffling an iPhone, headphones, lunch bag and bag with laptop. I juggled, I dropped. And someone retrieved.

I couldn't be that person today for someone else. I had been a great many things to a great many people all day and I was a little worn out. I feel bad about it.

But tomorrow is tomorrow and maybe I will aim to save a tiny bit of kindness for my evening. I won't spend it all during the day. I'll let it leak out in a steady stream, cautious of who and how I am when I get home.

Tomorrow I'll do better.

12 hours in NYC.

2012-01-04T21:05:00.000-05:00

Ricardo photographs tourists while I photograph him.

One of the good things about living in New York City is that everyone passes through it at some point. My friend Ricardo emailed me last week. He had a 12 hour layover in NY on his way from Bogot‪á‬ back to Paris. TOUGH LIFE, RIGHT?

Since he arrived at JFK at 6am, I got to the office uber-early so he could come by and drop off his bag. When he arrived around 9, I gave him the bises and launched into French. How was his flight? And had it taken all this time to get to midtown?!

"J'ai travers‪é‬ le pont," he said. Immediately my mind raced. He crossed the bridge? I had visions of him walking across the Queensboro bridge from the airport. How had my directions gone so wrong?!

Turns out, he arrived, didn't want to bother me at work, and went directly to the Brooklyn Bridge to walk over it on this sunny January morning. Then he came to midtown to drop off his bag. Now this is a man who has his priorities straight!

We had lunch together in Grand Central, where his breath caught when we entered the main hall. "I remember this from movies," he whispered and I smiled. Sometimes I forget how famous New York really is.

On lameness and 31.

2012-01-02T21:26:00.000-05:00

This morning, for the first time in a while, I felt lame. Someone commented on my New Year's plans and I was caught a little off-guard; the tone had been a tad more biting than joking. Wondered if we had managed to stay awake til midnight or not.

Last night I confessed to Chris that I am avoiding the fact that I turn 31 in two weeks. Ug. Unlike other ages, this is the first time in a while that I haven't seen the possibilities for my upcoming age. What's to discern between 31 and 32 and 33 and 34? What's special about this coming year?

The midnight comment, combined with my slight resistance to turning 31, prodded the same underbelly. If you are perfectly happy wearing your new flannel shirt with jeans and Converse sneaks to dinner on New Year's Eve, does that make you lame? If you have a hard time staying awake past midnight, are you a loser?

Does settling down mean losing whatever cool factor you ever had?

On a night when 80% of the Internet was sharing photos of themselves in sequin skirts, I was happy and cozy with my partner. That doesn't make me better or cooler or less cool or lamer than anyone else out there. I guess I just had a New Year's Eve that matched where I felt I needed to be.

I want to allow myself to be the 31 that I feel I need to be. Inexperienced in some areas of my life and masterful in others. Some days proving myself and some days giving myself a break from that constant pressure. Digging deep and finding the value that I bring to whatever table I sit at - and then keeping my head up when it's not enough.

There is substance here inside this nearly-31 year old shell. There are convictions and a deep sense of self. There is an internal barometer for right and wrong and lovely and threatening and falseness and honesty. I'm proud of that.

Now I just need to learn when to tell people to go to hell.

Values 2012.

2012-01-01T08:00:00.004-05:00

Muscoot Farm, 12/24/11.

I found this exercise online last week. I'm doing some research about organization structuring at work and found this one, called Mountains and Valleys. It's built to help you figure out your core values - those of your company or those of self.

Chris and I tweaked it this weekend and I thought I'd post our version here for some of you looking to do some new thinking on this new day of 2012.

1. Identify 2 high satisfaction events of 2011. These are events that would be included in your biography, if it were written. You felt really, really satisfied when these happened.

2. Identify 2 low satisfaction events of 2011. You'd include these in your biography as well. These were events that were challenges, disappointments, set-backs or tragedies.

3. Of the high satisfaction events, ask yourself what value was present during those events? What was in the mix? What was being honored? Why and how?

4. Of the low satisfaction events, ask yourself what value was threatened or absent? Why? How?

Write 'em out. Brainstorm on a paper. Bullet them. Boil them down into a few core values that you feel particularly attached to. And then! Then think about ways you can act or opportunities you should pursue (or not) in 2012 according to those values. The Mountains and Valleys exercise does this same thing, except on a lifetime basis (not just 2011). We found it helpful to focus on the past year to plan for what's ahead.

Isn't it amazing to think back over the year and identify what worked and what didn't? And, perhaps more interestingly... why that was the case?

I'm calling this the year of the value. Values'12. Not because I'm running against Obama on a platform of values (sighhhh), but because I have a hunch that identifying values and honoring them is going to be a good recipe to feeling grounded moving forward.

PS Happy New Year! This is my favorite time of year. So much newness!

Wrapping up and looking ahead.

2011-12-31T19:02:00.000-05:00

Being mighty in 2011.

In 2011, we got our finances organized. I ran two 10k races (not to mention over 260 miles!!!), and spoke publicly twice for work. I hereby declare the goals of 2011 COMPLETE!

This was a grand year of grandness. A trip to London and Paris. Turning 30. Adopting Ollie. Learning to run. Attending SXSW. Other people's weddings. Our own wedding. A honeymoon, Camp Mighty, trips to DC and Madison.

We're ending this year in Cape May, NJ. My family used to come here every summer when I was a kid and when Chris and I realized we needed to hole up and be thoughtful this weekend, it seemed like a good solution. So that's where we are. We are wandering and lunching and sleeping in. We're reading books and writing resolutions and talking about our values. Because the opportunities we will encounter in 2012 will challenge us... and we want to make sure we have things straight before another year of craziness ensues.

I started working on my 2012 goals and resolutions a few weeks ago. These things are tough for me to do in one sitting. I need time to mull, to cross things out, to boil things down. I need time to remember that this is not a list of EVERYTHING I must do in my life, but rather a few reach things. Here are my goals and resolutions for 2012:

Goals
1. Submit a short story to be published.
2. Surprise someone.
3. Learn to prepare 3 dinner recipes by heart.

Resolutions
1. Keep in touch with family.
2. Set small goals for myself at work so I can track how I'm doing.
3. Socialize outside of work.

Happy New Year's, everyone. May you be stretching and strengthening and preparing for another year of possibility.

Les livres de 2011: round 6 (FINALE)

2011-12-28T09:19:00.000-05:00

Reading with Dad in 1988. That's me with the bowl cut.

The other day someone asked me what I purely love. What do I love so much that it remains untainted by anything- responsibility, obligation, whatever.

That's a tough question. But after thinking about it for a few minutes, I said that I purely love reading. I don't feel an obligation to read anything I'm not in the mood for (and if I start reading something and am not into it, I'll drop it immediately). In this one area of my life, I go with the flow. I go with what I love.

Much more to say about this another time, but here are the final book reviews of the year. And if you scroll down a bit farther, you'll see the list of books I read in 2011. Happy reading, you rabbits!

(PS Here's last year's list, if you're interested.)

39. New York: the Novel by Edward Rutherfurd

I wrote a little about this novel last month. It's pretty epic. It traced the stories of families from the 1600s all the way up to present-day. I'm not going to say the writing was incredible because it wasn't. But you know how you read some things that aren't great in terms of craft, but in terms of story and learning? This was one of those books.

I'm dying to read his novels on London and Russia. I mean, seriously. What better way to learn the history of a city?

40. Before I Go to Sleep by S.J. Watson
Every once in a while, the New York Public Library emails me to say that a book that I had on hold came in. I put this book on hold back during the MEMORY semester (which is to say, a year ago). Way to be current, NYPL...

This book was really bizarre. It's the story of a woman who can only remember up to 24 hours; when she goes to sleep at night, she forgets everything and has to start all over again the next day. Given the trickiness of pulling off any sort of meaningful story with these restrictions, the author did a decent job. The ending was pretty scary - and surprising for me, but I'm pretty naive. I'd recommend!

41. Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger
Again, I recently wrote about this one too. Audrey Niffenegger, dude. Hardest name in the world to pronounce, but totally someone I'd love to meet.

I remember when I was at the Iowa workshop last summer, someone mentioned that she'd been there a few years back, right in the middle of writing The Time Traveler's Wife. She was getting ripped apart in some of the classes and was feeling really down on herself, but I guess some classmates bucked her up. She was supposed to stay the whole summer, but ended up leaving partway through and writing full-time to finish the book. And we all know how great that turned out!
This little anecdote gives me hope for my book one day. Firstly, that I write it. Secondly, that I will have a network of people who believe in me. Cause I literally can't wait to see what she writes about next.

42. Other People We Married by Emma Straub

Recently, it was Small Business Saturday and Am-Ex was giving people a $25 credit on their statement if you spent $25 at a small biz. Hello, independent bookstore down the street!

I picked up this book of short stories because I was in the mood and it was a mixed bag. I don't remember many of the stories (something that always gives me pause...), but I was intrigued by the theme of the book. They were all stories about relationships that could have happened, but didn't for one reason or another. I liked it more towards the end.

43. Three Stages of Amazement by Carol Edgarian
OK! This is way out of order. I read this in June and just realized it never made it into a book review. That's a problem because this book was GOOD. I excerpted it while I was reading and bought it somewhere super-cheap recently to make sure it was part of my collection.

It's a modern-day story about a couple who has two young kids. They're having normal, modern-day issues. He works in venture capital. She works and cares for the kids. They don't have enough alone time. There are some weird lies that get told for good reasons. And it's the downfall of their marriage, as well as a rebuild.

Details are hazy because I read it so long ago, but I remember REALLY liking it. You might too.

44. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

We saw Jeffrey Eugenides at the New Yorker festival this year. He was on a writer's panel and man, was he likeable. Very straightforward but funny, honest and a little quiet. He joked that it's awkward for him when one of his books comes out because he goes to dinner parties soon after and everyone asks when the NEXT one is happening. "Don't they know it takes me 9 years between each book?!" he laughed.

Funny.

I think the biggest reason I like Middlesex is because it's about so many topics that I know nothing about. Detroit, Greece, immigration and, obviously, hermaphrodite-ism. I literally feel like I learn things by reading this book. And though I'm positive I didn't do this while reading for the first time, I had my iPhone handy to look things up as I encountered interesting stuff this time around.

The story is about a hermaphrodite who shares his story by reaching back into the past and tracing the funky things that happened with inter-marriage, all resulting in a tweaked gene. I like the idea of reading stories about several generations. I had the same feeling with Rutherford's New York. There's something to be said for puzzling out how characters are why they are based on who they came from.

I super-recommend. It's a great read.

And now! The full list of books I read in 2011. I've put stars next to the ones that were my favorites...

January

1. Great House by Nicole Krauss

2. Man Walks Into a Room by Nicole Krauss

3. Even Silence Has an End by Ingrid Betancourt

4. The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall

5. The Lovers by Vendala Vida

6. Born to Run by Christopher McDougall**

7. Pre by Tom Jordan

Februray

8. The Tiger by John Vaillant

9. The Age of Comfort by Joan Dejean

10. The Bitch in the House by Cathi Hanauer

March

11. The Discomfort Zone by Jonathan Franzen

12. The Boelyn Inheritance by Philippa Gregory

13. A Rope and a Prayer by David Rohde and Kristen Mulvihill

14. The Long Run by Matt Long

15. Life After God by Douglas Coupland

16. Reading Jesus by Mary Gordon

17. The Girl who Fell from the Sky by Heidi Durrow

April

18. Mary by Janis Cooke Newman

19. The Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball

20. The Wheel of Life by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

21. The Weird Sisters by Elenor Brown**

22. On Life After Death by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

May

23. The Paris Wife by Paula McLain**

24. The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

25. A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

26. For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

June

27. She's Come Undone

28. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

29. Clara and Mr. Tiffany by Susan Vreeland
30. Three Stages of Amazement by Carol Edgarian**

July

31. The Women of the House by Jean Zimmerman**

32. Inside the Apple by Michelle Nevius

August

33. Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert

34. The Whistling Season by Ivan Doig

35. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot**

September

36. How I Planned Your Wedding by Susan Wiggs and Elizabeth Wiggs Maas

37. The Greater Journey by David McCullough**

38. Bossypants by Tina Fey

39. Mrs. Astor Regrets by Meryl Gordon

November

40. New York: the Novel by Edward Rutherfurd**

December

41. Before I Go to Sleep by S. J. Watson

42. Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger**

43. Other People We Married by Emma Straub
44. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

Priceless.

2011-12-26T21:47:00.000-05:00

At Camp Mighty, we each had to name 5 things we wanted to complete from our life lists in the following year. One of Chris' was to buy my Mom a sack of gifts.

Let me back up a second.

My Mom is very generous. She travels a lot for work and takes a lot of time throughout the year finding little things she thinks we'd like, saving them in secret hiding places, and finally gifting them on Christmas morning. Chris first spent Christmas with my family in 2009; my Mom treated him as another one of us that year, gifting him generously.

At Camp Mighty, Chris said how touched he had been by her generosity. He wanted to find a way to make her feel special too. And thus, the "sack of gifts" idea was born. He asked our Camp Mighty team to help him with inspiration. We wrote out a little bio of who she is, what she likes, what she does in life. Our Mighty Team came through with lots of ideas... and some of them even sent gifts to contribute to the present.

Chris didn't find a sack, but he DID find a HILARIOUSLY GIANT stocking. My sibs and Chris and I filled it with gifts for her and we presented it Christmas morning. I won't say anything further... you should see it for yourselves:

More Flickr pix here... and need I say it? I totally married the best guy.

Merry, merry.

2011-12-24T16:34:00.000-05:00

Being RIDICULOUS with my sibs in 2010.

I had a hard time feeling Christmasy in Brooklyn. Originally we planned to come up to my parents' on Christmas Eve morning, but then I broke down on Thursday night. It's just not Christmas without my family around, without Mom's cookies and the Chex Mix we ceremoniously bake. It's not Christmas without wearing fleece jackets in the house because it's so cold. And it's not Christmas holiday music as a background.

So we came up to Yorktown last night.

I'm sure there will be a time when I will need to shift my definition of what Christmas is, or, more specifically, where Christmas must be. But for now, I am content to settle into this chilly house and count this tradition once more at home.

Merry Christmas to you and yours. Enjoy the day... and the hugs. All those Christmas hugs.

"Here we are, as in olden days..."

2011-12-20T22:26:00.000-05:00

Our tree this year.

The saddest version of "Have yourself a merry little Christmas" was sung by Bert in Christmas Eve on Sesame Street. We used to watch this every year and for some reason this song always made me super-sad. Maybe that's because Bert is kind of sad. You get the feeling he doesn't do so well socially. He's the Mitchell to Modern Family's Cam. A little uptight, a little nervous, but underneath, a hopeful little heart.

2007 was the year that I moved home from Paris and was very, very sad. I was still sad at Christmas and I remember driving around my home town alone one night, looking at Christmas lights and singing that song to myself as I drove. Hearing my little voice singing that song in the way Bert does... well, I drove around with tears rolling down my cheeks. I made MYSELF cry, it was that sad.

I remember the tough Christmas that winter and I'm so grateful I made it out ok. If you're having a tough Christmas yourself this year, hang in there. It's amazing how things can turn around.

Stories about stories: Middlesex

2011-12-19T09:00:00.000-05:00

It was 2005; February, I think. I'd left Clermont-Ferrand the previous May and was dying to see friends in France, so my mom and I planned a trip. We stayed in a friend's friend's apartment while he was on vacation. The apartment had a kitten, a billion bookshelves, and a tiny kitchen where we cooked dinner one night for Erica, Angelique and Jean-Yves.

I was pretty jet-lagged that trip. No biggie, though. I had a book I was obsessed with to keep me company into the wee hours of the morning. Middlesex was published in '02, but I didn't find it until '05. By that point, Jeffrey Eugenides had won the Pulitzer but hadn't yet been featured on Oprah's book club. I knew it was a big deal, but the truth is that all that meta info about a book-- the prizes, the quotes from other authors, the marketing of it-- fades away. Because at the end of the day? You either sink into a story or you don't.

I'm about 100 pages in and two things are evident:
1. I forget a lot of details about books I've read. Ok, not just details- plot lines too.
2. This book is DAAAAAMN good.

Rereading is the best thing ever. It's like hanging out with an old friend, like remembering how much funnier someone is in person or how thoughtful and likeable they are in conversation. You know these things about them, but every once in a while it's refreshing to be in the same place again, paving over old memories with new ones.

Le Washington, DC.

2011-12-18T21:38:00.000-05:00

Last night I finished a travel guide for Washington, DC. You can find it under "Travel Guide" in the top nav or you can click this little link right here. I'm hoping to do a bunch more of these in the new year. Once my friend Priya told me that she used mine for Seattle and Portland and it made my freaking day. Plus, who doesn't like a starting point when they explore a new place?

Speaking of Washington...

During our last trip to DC, we were finally able to see my brother's band play. They're Orchard Wall and they're pretty great... go to their page and listen to "Mother's Yard." It's a song Steve wrote about/for me and he burned it on a CD that we listened to on the honeymoon road trip and I bawled through the Redwoods.

At Camp Mighty we had to name 5 things we want to accomplish in the next year and one of mine is to sing a song with Steve's band. So... stay tuned for a star performance in the new year!

Christmas, Dayquil and the like.

2011-12-17T17:40:00.000-05:00

Ornament from 1984, broken by cats.

This morning I woke up with a sore throat. So sore, in fact, that I couldn't really talk above a whisper. This was... undesired. We had STUFF to do today. Three holiday parties tonight and a date with my parents to see the Rockefeller tree and get dinner. Alas, it is all canceled.

On top of that, I don't feel very Christmasy this year. Christmas is different when you're an adult. We won't have much time off and it's been such a big year for us with gifts (what with the wedding...), I don't even feel like I need things this year. Since I bought many of our gifts for family online, I haven't gotten the full dose of commercial Christmas. I baked dozens of cookies for the doormen this week, but it still didn't feel the same. I'm not quite sure how to fix it.

What do I really want for Christmas? Someone to sew the holes in the pockets of my coat so my keys don't keep dropping into the lining. Someone to put the last bookshelf in our living room together. Another week of vacation. Updates from friends I haven't heard from in a while. My blog ported from Blogspot to Wordpress.

An anti-sore throat.

That's really the truth. I don't need a ton of stuff.

There are two weeks left in 2011. Two weeks from tonight, we'll be getting ready for a new year, a new dawn. What are you dreaming about for next year? What have you already put in place? What's going to grow? What needs to be slashed and burned from your life?

In the quiet days that stand between now and then, I'm looking forward to slowing down. Even though we'll be working most of the next two weeks, the days will be a bit quieter, a bit lagged. I need to take some giant deep breaths during this time because 2012 is already gearing up to be an intense storm. I feel at half-tank just thinking about it and I'm trying to get creative about how to refuel.

A re-cap on the themes of the past few years:

2011: Always be Growing '11

2010: Balance Beam 2010

2009: Sublime in '09

2008: Great in '08 (sorry, too lazy to find the link)

I'm circling in on my theme for 2012. I considered "More sleep in '12!" and "Summer in the south of France '12!" but I'll probably settle for something more practical. Like "Less proactive in '12!" I sure do get myself wrapped up in 1.7 million things per week and I'd like to step back and be a little more picky about the opportunities I pursue.

I have wedding pictures. (Statistics show that 47% of you just drooled on your keyboards.) I don't know how best to share them. Dumping them in a Flickr album seems... rude. And a bit too open-door. Dropping them all on Facebook seems... like a lot of required tagging. I haven't figured it out yet. But they're coming! 47% of you will be super-pumped because they are awesome and you are probably in some of them and even though I feel awkward in some of them, I am trying to get over it and watch a little more ANTM to embrace my inner model.

Speaking of, I had a professional headshot done recently. I KNOW. Amber (of Brooklyn, of Camp Mighty, of the Internets) took it and I'm just waiting to get the finalized version. Then I'll stick that up there where the photo of me with no make-up currently sits. Little by little, peeps. We're going to clean this space up for next year. I have some BIG plans in the works... plans that more than 47% of you are going to super-drool over.

Naming a daily intention.

2011-12-14T20:36:00.000-05:00

Brian, exec producer on Oprah, talks with Maggie Mason.

I've previously written about 5 goals. My friend Sima and I send each other 5 goals each morning that we aim to accomplish by the evening. These goals are small and achievable, and a mix of personal and professional tasks. We've been doing this for over a year and a half and it gives a lovely rhythm to my morning.

Here are some random examples:

1. Buy stamps for Xmas cards

2. Figure out details of designer offer

3. Respond to Mom's email

4. Spend at least an hour on Keynote presentation

5. Drink at least 3 glasses of water

Since Camp Mighty, I've added a new component to the 5 goals. I now list out an intention for each day. When an executive producer from the Oprah show spoke at Camp Mighty, he talked about the importance of intention. Each show they produced had a specific intention and I realized how helpful it can be for a day. So along with my 5 daily goals, I also write something I intend for the day, based on what I have on my calendar and what I anticipate encountering on each given day.

Here are some random intentions that I've used over the past month:

Keep door to personal life closed during work hours (email, twitter, etc)
Pay attention.
Be open to feedback.
Push for specific solutions for problems I encounter today.
Be a bright spot in the day of those I come into contact with.
Make small, but noticeable progress.

Need a structure for your day? Try it. It's great to have one overarching theme to the kind of day you plan on having. And it always makes me feel better, even on really overwhelming days.

Stories on stories: Her Fearful Symmetry

2011-12-12T22:58:00.000-05:00

The first time I finished Her Fearful Symmetry, it was past midnight the night before Chris was leaving for a trip to Wisconsin. I stayed up really late to finish because I couldn't bear the thought of finishing a ghost story without him in the apartment and I couldn't bear the thought of NOT finishing the book until he returned.

The second time I finished Her Fearful Symmetry, it was also late at night, but this time we were in Wisconsin. We were laying on the airbed in Chris' Dad's basement and the still-lit Christmas tree cast a little light towards the dark corners near the stairs. I had to pee, but put it off for 30 pages because I was scared to walk to the bathroom alone. And when I finally finished the last page and went to the bathroom, I did it quick, like when you're a kid, like when you bolt back towards your bed, a surge of adrenaline and fear chomping at your heels the whole way.

What struck me most this time around was how this is not just a ghost story. Like The Time Traveler's Wife, this is a love story. It's the story of sister love, parent love and partner love. I lay there, unable to sleep, feeling uber-gushy towards Chris. I worried about who would die first. The love from that love story had just soaked right in and I was left as one is at the end of a truly good story: staggering and struggling at the beauty and complexity of life.

This is my first re-read for this semester and what I'm realizing is that these second encounters are as much about the circumstances surrounding the memory of reading, as they are about the book itself. I think I'll document the experience of the re-read with posts like this, typed out stories about the stories themselves.

Oh. Hey.

2011-12-08T21:45:00.001-05:00

Hello. How have you been? Me? Fine. Busy. Taking care of BIZ. You know, the work business. And the business of two cats and a husband.

I didn't mean to drop a "do-over" semester on you all and then disappear, but there was a soup cook-off and a photo shoot to get a professional head-shot done and a holiday party with friends. And a tree purchase and a steak dinner and a bowling party where I got my tarot cards read and it was SPOOKY. And two cats who broke ornaments and some long, long days at work.

I have so many pictures of all these events, but the cord to upload them seems very far away right about now and I'm already sleepy even though it's 9:37pm. SO. Another day.

But I just wanted to check in here and say, hey. Hey, hello and hi.

PS I started re-reading Her Fearful Symmetry and it's so much scarier than last time because I know what happens. Last time I tried to avoid reading it too quickly because I wanted to savor every page and this time I can only read 10 pages at a time because I want to avoid the dark ending. Yikes! The perils of a re-read.

PPS We are headed to Wisconsin tomorrow afternoon for a good old Kenosha Christmas. It's our annual tradition of a pre-Christmas with Chris' family and I'm looking forward to catching up with the Wisconsinites and high fiving about the Packers. Those Packers! So good again this year.

PPPS If you just read that about the Packers and thought "holy crap, I don't even know who writes this blog anymore, but Ms. Jennifer Dary/Epting/whatever her name is would never watch football," well, you're right. But when you marry someone from Wisconsin, you get a little into football, even if you wince and think of Malcolm Gladwell after every tackle. (I do.)

Semester 5: The Value of "Again."

2011-11-30T09:00:00.003-05:00

Confused about Project Learn? You can check it out here.

To every thing there is a season. Someone sang about that once. For the past four semesters of Project Learn, it's been a season of newness. New books, new experiences, new films, new encounters. But now it's time for semester 5, arriving just in time for the winter season.

I was thinking the other day about why the winter season feels so cozy. As the temperature drops, we pull out our sweaters and breathe annual life into holiday traditions and resolutions. It's a season of diving down deep into our beds, our heads and our routines.

And so! The fifth semester of Project Learn (December through February) is going to be about redoing. Rereading, rewatching, retracing. Because while there is much to learn from newness, there is also much to learn from traveling the same path for a second (or third! or fourth!) time. I'm interested in what sentences pop out when I revisit a book I loved upon first read. What can you learn about yourself or the world by doing the same thing every Monday morning? And what films are just as charming the second time around?

I hope you'll read along as I spend this winter investigating the value of "again."

Books (read 8 of 12)

Feast of Love by Charles Baxter

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffeneger

After Rain by William Trevor

Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon

The History of Love by Nicole Krauss

Dubliners by James Joyce

Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

The Weird Sisters by Elenor Brown

The Thing Around Your Neck by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

Films/Shows

The Wonder Years

Before Sunrise

Before Sunset

I Heart Huckabees

Albums
For Emma, Forever Ago by Bon Iver
Stunt by Barenaked Ladies
Boys and Girls by Ingrid Michaelson
Quelqu'un m'a dit by Carla Bruni
Hard to Be by David Bazan

Activities

Have a weekly tradition.

Visit a place I haven't been in a really long time.
Get better at something through repeat practice.

Thinking about patience.

2011-11-29T09:10:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, I read an interesting essay by Nick Crocker called The Art of the Trade-Off. In it, he argues that life is about trade-offs... and while you can do many, many things in your life, you can't do them all at the same time. He quotes David Sedaris, who identifies the four main burners in life (work, health, family, friends) and says that you can only have two of four burners lit at a given time to be really successful.

Lately, I feel as though I'm getting this message all over the place. And I've been resisting it since I read it, convinced that there was a way to trick the system or combine two burners at once or manage a gym with my family and friends (the only contrived solution I found to getting at all of them).

But this morning, I'd like to ask a question. If we accept this burner theory, why is it a good thing? Why is only having 24 hours in a day a good thing?

I think it can be summed up in one, super-meaningful word: patience.

Lots of people have thoughts about patience. The Bible loves patience. My associations with this word bring me back to nursery school where "be patient!" was commonly uttered.

Patience helps us slow down. Patience helps us be quiet, to make decisions in a still moment of clarity. Patience helps us take the long view instead of immediately reacting. Without patience, we would never taste slow-cooked pork or baked Alaska or ... cheese.

So even though much of myself still wants to resist the assertion that our time and attention is limited, I think I can step back and understand that bumping up against limits strengthens my patience. Strengthening patience brings much-needed peace to my life view, the belief that things will work themselves out just fine in the end.

The socialization of places

2011-11-28T09:00:00.000-05:00

Upper West Side, NYC.

There is an agreed-upon format to a biography. You start in the beginning. You start with someone's birth, or at least, their childhood. You tell the stories of who they were because often, those stories influence who they became. There are accomplishments, obstacles and relationships. Combined, these represent a life- be it that of a human, a disease, or a year.

Though it wasn't on my original list (and though it's not technically a biography), I've spent the last few weeks reading a novel called New York. The format of this book really impressed me; its author, Edward Rutherfurd, tells the history of New York since the 17th century, and then traces the generations forward to the 21st century. In this way, you can see how New York shifted, how it was influenced and purchased and built up and broken down.

In short, it's a fictional biography of the city.

Something struck me yesterday during a run. If cities have accomplishments and obstacles and relationships, then cities can be tracked just as human lives are. This CLICKED with me. I have a curious relationship to new places in that I hate visiting somewhere that I know nothing about. I like to do a little pre-reading, a little historical research if you will. And even after I know a city, I like continuing to learn about its government and why its streets are shaped the way they are (see: Haussmann in Paris).

As it turns out, I socialize with places in the same way that I socialize with people I meet.

To a new person:
Where are you from? Is that where you grew up? I have a sister too. What did you study at school? And what are you doing now? That's awesome that you got to live abroad. That's too bad about losing your job, but I guess it got you here. What neighborhood do you live in? Oh, and do you like living there?

The answers to these questions paint a quick sketch of a person's life: their choices and their responses to circumstances outside their control.

Imagine if you asked these questions to a place.

Who started you? Why did they need you to be exactly where you are? Who took over next? And then who came? That's wonderful that you drew such a crowd. That's too bad that the disease struck during that century. But why did that group move to you? And who lives in you today? Why are they there?

What am I getting at here? That just in the same way that you click with certain people, I believe you can click with certain places as well. Sometimes that click happens on a first meeting. Barcelona was like that for me. But sometimes that click takes a few times, takes a little small talk and a glass of wine for everyone to relax and stop being pretentious. Paris was like that for me.

Sometimes there's never a click, as hard as you both try. Morocco was like that for me.

At this point, New York and I are very good friends. I get New York. I know why she's pissy and why sometimes she acts tough, but I also get why she's an amazing place to bounce ideas off of. I appreciate what she's been through. And just as with any friendship, she's rubbed off on me. Sometimes the words coming out of my mouth aren't mine; they belong to her. And I'd like to think that I've given something of myself to her over these past four years as well.

I love this. If the biography semester results only in this realization, then I feel it was worth it. It makes sense now why I start getting cranky when I haven't visited Paris or Ireland or Clermont or Pennsylvania in a while. It's the same feeling I get when I crave a visit with my siblings or with Maddy or Katie or Skersh. I miss people and I miss places. It's as simple as that.

You can bet anything that I'm going to miss New York if we leave her one day. I'm going to need visits back, hours in which I stroll along her streets and reconnect with her. After all this time, I see that she's beautiful and complex. Just like I hope to be.

Thanksgiving weekend

2011-11-27T20:48:00.001-05:00

Thanksgiving is almost better than Christmas, isn't it? Four whole days of holiday; the extra day off pushes it over the edge to a mini-vacation.

We spent Thanksgiving day and the day after at my parents', where Kate and I went on a run, I made a pumpkin pie, Chris answered iPad questions and my Dad made us go around the dinner table and say what we're thankful for.

In case it isn't obvious, I am very thankful for this life of mine. I am thankful for a healthy body, a strong will and the belief that I can do lots of things. I'm also thankful for my wonderful family- both blood and married into!- and our family of friends, which has grown and grown and grown over the past year.

I met a baby on Friday, a baby who is 2 weeks old and has his whole life ahead of him. I'm thankful for friends who let me hold their little babies.

And then my family visited Brooklyn on Saturday night for dinner and left the sibs chez nous to crash for a night. It was the best.

How was your Thanksgiving?

PS I am thankful to YOU for reading this little blog. You readers, you!

My parents' cat Simon, who misses his brother Toby.

Hey favorite brother!

My pie (recipe via Erica)

Kate's pecan tarte

Jay and Laurie's new baby... Elliott!

Just talking. My fav.

Beautiful Thanksgiving Saturday on the deck.

Oscar believes he's a book.

Ollie snuggles Kate.

The saddest little peanut of all.

2011-11-22T22:05:00.000-05:00

Hiding in a tea towel at the vet.

Is there anything sadder than a little cat with a couple of teary pink eyes? Nope. No, there's not. That's what Ollie looked like last night when the vet diagnosed pink eye in both eyes, gave him a shot of antibiotics, and sent us home with some eye cream.

Is there anything more fun than putting eye cream in a little cat's eyes twice a day? YEP. YEP THERE IS. Pretty much anything else in the world is more fun than that.

I let him sleep in my closet all day today (a luxury he is normally not granted because of his habit of eating sweaters). But this morning I couldn't blame him. The poor guy looks so sick and uncomfortable.

Of course we're headed to my parents' tomorrow after work for Thanksgiving. Why do pets always get sick right before you go away?

How to start (or restart) running.

2011-11-21T09:00:00.001-05:00

So scared before my first 5k.

My 2011 running career lasted from January through June, during which I completed 5ks and 10ks. Amazing! I lost 15 pounds, I felt great for my wedding, I grew more comfortable in my clothes. But since June, I haven't exercised much at all.

Last week I got some blood work back and it said I have high triglycerides. This pissed me off. I eat YOGURT for lunch, people. I walk everywhere. And yet there it was, on the paper: high triglycerides. "Try exercising," it said. Blarg.

Coincidentally, I saw Kelley this week and she proclaimed her intention to run a half marathon in the spring. "Crap," I thought to myself. "That's on my life list AND my blood is bad. I guess I'm doing this."

So I made a running plan in a google doc based on a 10k schedule to get me back into the swing of the things. I hit the treadmill on Wednesday night for the first time since June and promptly got angry with myself. I am slow. Slooooow. Also, I can't run without walking. I need to take breaks. And I need a lower incline than I used to.

Do you know how annoying that is? To have put in 6 months of running this year, then taken a break, and now to find myself back at the starting point?

And yet this is the lesson of running. That it is HARD. That you should use whatever motivation you can scrounge up to make it out the door with your sneakers on. Leave the treadmill at 0% incline. Take walking breaks. Listen to music if it helps. Sometimes I think I'm not *really* running if I do those things. But that's bull.

Running humbles me. It's one of the toughest things I've ever tried in my life; it challenges my strength, my mental state and my belief in myself. I think this is why so many people have running goals on their Life Lists; because they sense it's going to break them... and then make them stronger.

Want to get started? Here's how:
1. Pick a goal
2. Make/find a running schedule
3. Go shopping for running clothes

Does that last one sound rude? Too bad. Because when you agree to haul your jiggling, cookie-filled self down the streets of Brooklyn at a given pace, you're facing discomfort. Not only does your body not feel like a runner, but you know your Converse don't make you look like a runner either. And so I say to you, if you are thinking about running, waltz into a sporting goods store and buy a pair of pants and some sneakers. There is something to be said for looking the part and if you've never been the athletic type, you're going to need a wardrobe shift to change the image you have of yourself.

As for the running schedule, I can highly recommend Couch to 5k as a beginner's program or the Hal Higdon 5k plan (he also has plans for other distances).

And as for the running goal? Well, I might have a suggestion for that. On Thursday afternoon, I accidentally organized a team of people to run the NYC half marathon in March 2012. Oops! We're calling it Runners for Reading - we'll be a team of technologists and readers who run the 13.1 miles to raise money to buy Kindles for a school in NYC. Because KIDS NEED TO READ!

Want to be part of our group? We would seriously love it. Check out our Twitter page for updates and we'll have a full site up and running soon. Start planning your trip to New York and let me know if you need somewhere to stay. Maybe I can help.

If you've been looking for an opportunity to run, then you should interpret this post as fate. And you should know one more thing:

You Can Do It. I seriously mean it.

Our days of late.

2011-11-20T20:37:00.001-05:00

Me and Tobers a few years ago.

I keep wanting to write a post about running (news alert!), but it doesn't happen because when I get a few minutes at a computer, all I can think about is death and love. I realize that sounds dramatic, but that's a little bit what it's been like in our world lately.

My great Aunt Jean died right after we arrived in Palm Springs last week and then on Friday, my Dad took Toby, our family's cat, to the vet to be put to sleep. I held it together on the phone with my Mom, but as soon as I hung up I burst into tears. Toby! Tobster, the little buddy who was born in our basement, who peed, puked and shit on every piece of furniture in my parents' house and still managed to be the favorite pet. He was 14 and not well and I completely agree with the decision to put him down. Still.

In the wake of his death, I've been snuggling O&O closer this weekend, watching videos from when they were younger, and giving them treats. Then yesterday, Ollie developed a watery left eye and has been sneezing non-stop. Obviously I assume he is on his deathbed and can't stop wiping his face with a Kleenex. He probably has a cold, but you can't convince me of that this weekend. We'll visit the vet tomorrow night to make sure all is well.

We went to the Space party as Venus and Apollo. (Get it?)

(Clearly we will need a live-in pediatrician one day.)

So, death. What's with the love then?

When I married Chris three months ago, I loved him. A lot! But after he accompanied me to Camp Mighty, successfully released the new version of Readability last week to nationwide acclaim and did the laundry yesterday, I DOUBLE love that dude. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that the guy I married would be as confident, charming and open as he was with the folks at Camp Mighty. He nailed it. Every so often I would look over at him opening his heart to a (mostly female) group of people and I would just swoon.

This morning I ran 3 miles (more on that soon, I promise) and as I made my way through Brooklyn Heights, I imagined an upcoming race I'm doing in the spring. I thought about what it will be like, the crowd cheering, knowing that Chris is somewhere up ahead. I teared up and kept running, grateful to have found and married such a supportive partner.

Speaking of love, here's some more. Here are the sites of some wonderful people we met at Camp Mighty. It's not exhaustive, but it's a good start to some fresh URLs in your feed...

Erica

Rebecca (and Robbie- our new favorite Milwaukee couple)

Brothers.

2011-11-18T22:19:00.002-05:00

I was working on a big post and then I thought, "eff it. It's Friday. Let's have some cats."

As promised:

"The brothers" from Jen Epting on Vimeo.

Written to a slow, steady song.

2011-11-15T17:24:00.000-05:00

Headed home.

I am fascinated by nature vs. nurture. What made me me? If I grew up somewhere else, what of myself would be different? And what is just inherently, unabashedly me?

I have an image of someone rubbing their hands together with an impish grin, softly saying "Oh, this is getting GOOD." Translate that scene into a personality trait and I think you're pretty close to what I feel I am. I suppose it boils down to this:

I constantly feel like I'm on the precipice of something amazing.

Is that obnoxious? It feels a little obnoxious to write that out. But it's not like that. It's not "my life is so charmed! I have everything I want! Tra la!" Here's what it (genuinely) feels like:

A warm wind that hits your face at the start of a vacation. The first few chords of an upbeat album. Nodding your head along with someone seated next to you. Understanding pain. The truest sentence you ever read. A big, deep breath.

This is all to say that Camp Mighty was another event in a long line of life moments that felt true. From listening to speakers whose presentations were inspiring, to finally understanding why we were all there (life lists), to the humility of meeting writers who words have touched millions.

You must surround yourself with others who care. You must get out of the way of others who want to pull rank. You must get with the right people and away from the wrong people and I can't tell you what those definitions are, but I think you know them in your heart anyway. And the reason for this? Well, that's simple.

Because they will make you feel you're on the precipice of something amazing. And while I'm still waiting to see what giant, simple truth will come of my life, I can feel that it's out there, waiting for me to find my way to it. Camp Mighty, like a large, bright, neon sign, made me realize that I'm headed in the right direction.

Staying Gold.

2011-11-13T13:37:00.000-05:00

Camp Mighty necklace.

We're sitting in SFO waiting for our flight back to New York. A combination of lack of sleep and excess of food for thought results in a distracted fatigue. I really should be napping, but I can't stop looking at people's Life Lists and thinking through this weekend.

This isn't going to be The Post About Camp Mighty. I am much too close to it to do it justice. This is a simple post about one thing that Evany Thomas said on Friday morning during her talk.

She described where she was in her career several years ago. She had a decent job. She never took her work home; at 5pm every day, she was liberated to have a whole separate life. She wondered if that was it, if she had achieved the level of comfort that we often long for.

At that moment, she realized that she had a choice. Do you lean into the worst version of yourself, the one who longs for life to roll out wide and long ahead of you towards retirement? Or do you hold yourself to the highest standard?

"Stay gold," she told us.

Staying gold is so flipping exhausting. But gold is just that- it's gold. It's shiny, bright, valuable, strong and always worth its weight, whether you're talking about your career or the way you interact with new people.

We were the newlyweds this weekend. Arguably, we haven't even made it to a point where we have a long-term comfortable option for, well, anything. And yet. Hearing Evany speak on this point was a welcome sharp object, poking us in the underbellies and reminding us that those conundra are out there.

Deep breath. Long sleep coming. Long life coming. And hopefully, lots and lots of gold.

Numbers 101 and 102.

2011-11-08T17:56:00.000-05:00

My great-aunt is dying. She had cancer a few years ago, was treated, and was well enough to come to our wedding in August. Then somehow in the past 3 months, the cancer overtook her, spreading everywhere.

On Sunday, my siblings and I went to visit her. She's smaller than she ever was before, softer, quieter. I know she knows she's dying; she refused treatment this time around, preferring to be soon reunited with the husband she lost 20 years ago.

What do you talk about with someone who's dying? We erred on the side of asking about her life. "Who was your favorite president?" and "Did you like to go to dances?" and "What was our Dad like when he was young?"

These were my favorite answers. When you're dying, people's lives are boiled down to short words or phrases.

"A good boy." (for my Dad)
"She liked volleyball." (my aunt)
"Naughty." (relative)
"Busy." (relative)

I've spent the past 3 months reading biographies and I can say that these one-word biographies have been the most poetic of all.

You cannot read a biography without, on some level, calculating your life's trajectory. Biographies trace someone's history, explain how and why they were who they became, list accomplishments. Tomorrow, Chris and I leave on an early flight to Camp Mighty, where we will attempt to become mightier.

This is not about doing things so others believe I was once great. This is about reaching really far down and truly living the Gandhi quote: Be the change you wish to see in the world.

I posted my Life List last week and this morning I read through it again. So much on there is about me! So much on there is about things that I want to add to the resume of experience I have accumulated in this world. And that is not alright.

Grateful for this realization, I'm adding two more items. Two items that feel like true reaches, that feel as though they would make a REAL change I wish to see in the world:

101. Help change a struggling city into a thriving one.
102. Use my communication skills to help people understand something difficult. Could be national healthcare, the DMV, Green Card applications or something else that's known for being a black box.

These are the kinds of goals I want to think more about as I head out to Palm Springs and though I'm pretty anxious about the social experience of hanging out with the personalities at Camp Mighty, I'm aching for this to be a life-changing experience.

I will report back.

O&O

2011-10-30T21:01:00.000-04:00

We spent a lot of time inside this weekend, mainly because of snow. Here are a few shots of the cats, who loved having us around all weekend. These snugglepants make our house a home.

Honeymoon: 3 nights in Palm Springs

2011-10-30T09:00:00.000-04:00

And finally we were in Palm Springs. We skirted LA because I was afraid of spending 89% of the trip in LA traffic and went straight on through. It was a longish ride from San Luis Obispo, but when we got to the Parker, we were MIGHTY glad to be there. We spent the next 24 hours jumping in and out of the pool, drinking pina coladas by the pool, and listening to Housewives of LA make irritating conversation in the pool. (e.g. "You simply MUST come with us to Hawaii for Christmas! It's decided! I'll book tickets on my iPhone right now!)

We moved to the Ace and told them they were our last Ace to hit. No one cared that much. I was disappointed! But I got over it and we went in the Ace's pool. We had a couples' massage, we ordered delivery pizza for lunch, we saw a famous actor and one night we took our book lights and read under the stars (thanks, Jess and Sean!).

And that's where the honeymoon ended. After 12 amazing days, we boarded a plane to Milwaukee, where we had a second wedding party for Chris' family and friends. We were tan, smiley and tired of eating out. It was a good time to head back East.

Final pix on Flickr here.

Honeymoon: 1 night in San Luis Obispo

2011-10-29T21:44:00.000-04:00

When we last left our heroine, she was about to ride a horse for the first time. After we were outfitted at the stables, we noticed a giant gray horse. "I hope you get that stallion!" I said to Chris. And turns out, he did get that horse- except she was no stallion. Star was a lady horse.

I was given a speckled horse named Emma who was old and slow and a little bit moody. "Come on, Emma," I'd say, gently nudging her sides with my heels, and she's stay right where she was. It was funny! And endearing. Good old Emma, damning the man.

Obviously we met a French family and obviously we made friends with them and obviously they invited us to visit them in their large mansion in France. That part was good too.

Along the way, we had lunch at Nepenthe. The driving through Big Sur was my favorite of the CA portion of the trip. Cliffs and coasts and sea lions the whole way...

Then we stopped at the Hearst Castle, where we did a tour (make sure you book ahead!), enjoyed super-blue skies and marveled at a man we knew nothing about prior to the trip. William Randolph Hearst was one rich dude and, may I say, a marvelous-sounding dinner party host. He screened new movies in his private movie theater and flew in choir seats from Italy to decorate his front room.

As we were driving out of the castle's parking lot, we laughed at something the tour guide said. Hearst collected exotic animals and kept them in pens at the castle, though he had to sell them off one-by-one as he needed money towards the end of his life. The guide said we might still be able to see some zebra in the fields along the road. Well WE DID! Zebras and cows were hanging out in the same enclosure, all just standing about awkwardly.

Zebra sightings. Just another day on the Honeymoon 2011 tour.

More pix on Flickr here.

But what are we really doing?

2011-10-26T17:57:00.000-04:00

Bonsai tree in the DC arboretum.

I like getting to the bottom of things. I used to think that meant I had an obsession with truth. Every time the word "truth" was used in a book I was reading, I would underline it. I would pay close attention to how that word was being used.

I was not sure how this related to lying, but I suspected that I was less interested in the opposite of truth and more in the gushy "getting to the bottom" of a reality, of a relationship, of a desire.

This morning I was prepping for a meeting that was happening later this afternoon. The meeting was to write a mission statement for one of our projects here at Arc; we were asked to write a few statements on our own and bring them to the table at 4pm. And as I was working on this, I realized that I kept focusing tighter on the subject at hand, like a surgeon zooming in on the monitor as he cuts.

"But what are we really doing?" I thought to myself. And then I'd write the answer. Then I'd ask myself again. "But what are we really doing?"

And slowly, surely, I started to center in on the crux of it.

I'm not sure if this is searching for the "truth," but I know that I used this exercise when thinking about getting married. Here's how it worked:

Fact: We're having a wedding.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: I'm wearing a white dress and Chris is wearing a gray suit.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: We're having a party with our family and friends.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: We're having a ceremony that others are coming to witness.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: Chris and I are promising to spend our lives together, among other things.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: Chris and I are embarking on a project. This day kicks off that project and there are a number of promises we're making related to our commitment to the project. Others will witness those promises and help us honor them.

There. That feels about right. And in this light, concerning ourselves with wedding colors and gift bags in hotel rooms felt RIDICULOUS. Right? Like, totally out of scale. Getting to the bottom of the "truth" of the wedding event was really helpful when it came time to tell the florist we weren't spending $2,000 on flowers. And other insane things.

Here's another one:

Fact: At some point in the not-so-distant future, we would like to leave New York.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: We want to have more space.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: We want to start a family sometime before my eggs rot.
But what are we really doing?
Fact: We want to slow down the pace of our lives a bit and re-prioritize.
But what are we really doing?

Well. That's as far as we're at right now. And that's ok! Sometimes you don't know what the next step is along the way. Sometimes you really only know the first fact. For example:

Fact: I am not actively writing my book.
But what am I really doing?

I have a couple of guesses. I think I might really be avoiding it because I'm intimidated or because I'm not actually ready to do it or… possibly… because I'm not good enough to do it. Tricky, that.

The job is to figure out what the next fact is. And then the next one. And on down the line until I get to a point where I can act against the "truth" of it. That might take a while. But you know, I think that's ok. If we were able to get to the bottom of everything right away, we'd have a lot more on our to-do lists.

So if you don't know what you're really doing, I think the answer is clear. Ask yourself some questions. And if that doesn't work, just wait longer.

We interrupt these honeymoon posts to share an updated Life List.

2011-10-24T20:16:00.002-04:00

Since we're headed to Camp Mighty in only a few short weeks, the task of updating my Life List to hold 100 items has been hot on my mind. I only had about 25 up until last night, but then the long train ride last night coupled with a sick day today has resulted in ONE HUNDRED LIFE GOALS OF POWER!

What's amazing to me is how some of them seemed to come out of nowhere. I'd be sitting there, thinking about owning a dog, and then from nowhere I'd think "FUND A SCHOLARSHIP FOR STUDENTS TO GO ABROAD." Except instead of it coming from Nowhere, I think it came from Thewhere, as in The place where the deepest things only you know live.

Interested in making one of your own? Maggie Mason wrote a helpful post and remember- this is not a list that you make to seem reasonable to other people. At least one person is going to doubt your ability to complete some of these things. That person is not of your concern! If you can think of it, stick it on the list. Who cares if it never comes true? The mere act of pronouncing it starts the being possible, even in the tiniest way.

Here's my list, in all its glory:

1. Snorkel in Costa Rica
2. Paint a self-portrait
3. Write a letter to Barack Obama
4. Video interview my extended family about what it was like growing up
5. Track down some long-lost relatives in Germany and have dinner with them
6. Redesign my blog (or pay someone else to do it)
7. Publish a book
8. Translate a novel from French to English
9. Fly to Paris for my birthday
10. Spend a summer abroad
11. Own a bike and use it to commute to work.
12. Visit the Grand Canyon
13. Be economically comfortable
~~14. Run a 10k~~ [Completed- 10k in DC in 2011]
15. Discover a fish I like to eat and learn how to cook it
16. Buy a sewing machine and make something usable
17. Make homemade butter/cheese/ice cream
18. Grow a watermelon and eat it
~~19. Visit Texas~~ [Completed- SXSW in 2011]
20. Learn another language conversationally
21. Use my blog to supplement my income
22. Raise children
~~23. Have a wedding on our own terms~~ [Completed- August 13, 2011!]
24. Learn one computer language
25. Accompany my brother (singing) at a concert in front of other people.
26. Learn to like at least one kind of eggs.
27. Swim with a dolphin.
28. Attend the New Yorker Festival as a speaker/guest/panelist.
29. Teach a class.
30. Get a professional headshot done.
31. Start a Saturday morning tradition that I continue for a year.
32. Open a B&B. Have my sister design it.
33. Master 10 dinner recipes that I feel comfortable cooking for a group of people.
34. Have a reunion for my residents from 3rd floor Prosser.
35. Organize a 1-day conference where unpublished writers come to share their work, write and make writerly connections.
36. Make a sizeable donation to Muhlenberg.
37. Take a trip with my siblings.
38. Take a trip with my mom and sister.
39. Run a half-marathon.
40. Run a race in a foreign country.
41. Go to Middlebury language school for another summer.
42. Make personal contact (letter, meet, take to lunch, etc.) with the following writers who have influenced me: Elizabeth Gilbert, Charles Baxter, William Trevor, Ann Patchett, Audrey Niffenegger
43. Attend TED
44. Create an office space that allows me to work, interrupted, at long stretches of time. It should be comfortable, inspiring and able to shut out the outside world.
45. Host a foreign exchange student.
46. Try having bangs.
47. Live in a house with fruit trees in the backyard.
48. Learn how to change a tire.
49. Invite Ingrid Michaelson to a party at our place. (Goal is, she accepts.)
50. Spend a period of time living close to family.
51. Do a multi-day hike and camp overnight.
52. Find an awesome pillow that is not too thin or too fat, but just perfect.
53. Rewatch Lost.
54. Have photos of family and friends framed and visible in our home.
55. Go on a safari in Africa.
56. Research and write a walking tour… then give it!
57. Be able to identify 10 birds by sight and sound.
58. Work on a farm again and milk cows.
59. Start a business with my husband.
60. Grow a tree and plant it in our yard.
61. Have a yard.
62. Surprise Chris with a weekend away.
63. Find a church/religious place that's for me.
64. Work in a bookstore.
65. Meet Dave Eggers.
66. Create an online community around No Is For Wimps.
67. Visit all the 826 Valencias. [Completed: San Fran, Brooklyn, Seattle, DC]
68. Learn to blow dry my hair straight.
69. Get a dog.
70. Have my dog trained to be able to go to nursing homes and bring him/her there on a regular basis.
71. Join a rowing team and get SWEET arms.
72. Get my MFA (if only because of the dedicated time to write).
73. Attend weddings in other countries. [Completed so far: India]
74. Gift a plane ticket for a friend to come and visit us.
75. Host a dinner with Chris for the top 3 people who have influenced each of our lives. Pay for travel expenses for those 6 people and host a long dinner where they can meet and we can thank them.
76. Speak French with my children so they have a base knowledge of the language at least.
77. Host a board game night and invite the board gamiest people I know.
78. Go to a movie and sneak into a second one after the first is over!
79. Write a wedding post and have it published on A Practical Wedding.
80. Pet an elephant.
81. Start an annual tradition with Chris that focuses on planning for the next year.
82. Once kids are old enough, make a fancy Back to School dinner every year.
83. Learn to tap dance.
84. Visit my host family in Aix-en-Provence.
85. Have my sister as my doula for the birth of at least one of my children.
86. Invest my/our money in a forward-thinking way.
87. Memorize the names (and order) of all the US presidents.
88. Visit Jefferson's home in Virginia.
89. Visit Hemingway's house in Florida.
90. Take at least one trip alone every year. Could be as simple as a long weekend to visit friends or fam.
91. Visit Pompeii.
92. Try Bikram yoga.
93. Get certified as a Yoga instructor.
94. Witness the birth of a baby (not my own).
95. Help found a scholarship to send students abroad.
96. Give myself a $1000 shopping spree to create a new wardrobe I feel good about.
97. Plant hydrangea plants in our yard and cut the flowers as they bloom to make the house homey.
98. Attend the Clinton Global Initiative.
99. Cook my way through one cookbook (however small!)
100. Tell a story on This American Life.

101. Help change a struggling city into a thriving one.

102. Use my communication skills to help people understand something difficult. Could be national healthcare, the DMV, Green Card applications or something else that's known for being a black box.

Honeymoon: 1 night in Carmel, CA

2011-10-22T09:00:00.030-04:00

When I was a kid, there was a long stretch of years that my family vacationed in Cape May, NJ. I've never been to Disneyland or Disneyworld; instead, my family spent a week every year in a town with Victorian Houses and a cross-stitch shop. In some ways, I am very grateful for this type of repeated travel; I know Cape May well. When I returned once as an adult, I sought out a shop where they sell Christmas ornaments and salt water taffy and I realized how much of my Mom I have in me.

On these trips, my parents would make it a point to stop at a fruit stand along the highway to buy Jersey peaches and tomatoes. I'm not quite sure what the magic is about Jersey fruit, but eating roadside peaches always reminds me of vacation on a beach to this day.

As we made our way out of San Francisco, we noticed more and more fruit stands along the side of the road. Finally I told Chris we had to stop... and we grabbed cherries, strawberries and a couple of peaches for old time's sake. The best kind of snacks on a roadtrip.

We made it to our hotel in Carmel and I'll admit it- I was ITCHING for a swim. We had been in California for several days and my misunderstanding of northern California weather had left me shivering in sweaters for days. So although we were the only ones in the pool at the hotel, a swimming we did go.

Carmel was pretty, but expensive. We did the 17-mile scenic drive, which happened to be the same weekend as a giant, fancy car show. This made a lot of sense when we learned about it, as we'd spent the previous several hours with minds blown by the fact that everyone in Carmel seemed to drive a Porsche. Turns out, it was just for the weekend.

Meanwhile, we'd been telling people that we were ending our trip in Palm Springs. "Palm Springs in August, huh?" they'd say. "It's pretty hot down there!" Indeed; it was supposed to be 120 degrees. The horseback riding we had planned wasn't going to happen, as horses apparently don't like carting humans around in such heat. (Who can blame them?)

So while checking out the local Carmel guide, it felt serendipitous to discover that there was horseback riding available near Big Sur the next morning. We called, we booked it. And we set our alarms to wake up early for my first experience riding a horse.

More pix on Flickr here.

Honeymoon: 2 nights in San Francisco

2011-10-21T09:00:00.044-04:00

Mendocino was a bizarre town. We stayed in a little cottage shed at a B&B, had a dinner in a nearby restaurant and all I remember about that dinner was eating soup and laughing pretty much non-stop. We were looking forward to San Francisco - it would be Chris' first time there.

San Francisco is not warm and by that I also sort of mean not inviting. I've been there before to visit friends, and each time their hospitality far outshone the city. When Chris and I arrived, we checked into our hotel (air miles spent for 2 free nights at the Clift!) and found it, again, somewhat cold. Compared with the B&Bs we'd been staying at along the way, the Clift was the height of formality.

There were no obvious "must-sees" on our list. And so the first morning, after breakfast, we headed to the zoo. Deciding to go to the zoo was one of the decisions that truly made the trip feel spontaneous. Isn't the zoo something you want to do every morning instead of going to work? I know. Me too.

And so my favorite memories in San Fran have to do with gorillas and drinks at the bar in the top of the Marriott. We had some big talks over drinks in that bar, some mighty big talks. At the base of those discussions was our reluctance to be in a big city like San Fran after the GREENness of the trip up until that point.

To me, this is what a honeymoon is for. To be far away physically from the place you call home, but also far away mentally. To be in a dreaming place. To be thinking big because you can, because you don't have the checkbook on you and because a whole bunch of people just said they'd support you in your life.

It was like floating.

More pix on Flickr.

Honeymoon: 1 night in Mendocino, CA

2011-10-20T09:00:00.000-04:00

My maternal grandparents drove across the country several times in the 40s. My Nana wrote letters back home, explaining how they saw a "real Indian" for the first time, how the deer were different in Montana, how my Uncle Dick had fun playing with some local kids. But for all their trips, they never made it to the Redwoods. And as my Nana got older, she would talk about this missed opportunity.

"Boy, I bet that'd be something to see," she'd say. "Those big trees!"

When we were planning a trip down the coast, I knew we had to see the Redwoods. And my, were they something to see.

At some point, we picked up a classy lunch of peanut butter, jelly and bread and took it up to a overlook that was supposed to showcase stunning views. Imagine our surprise when we ascended into a cloud.

It wasn't the most expensive of meals on the trip, but it definitely was one of the most memorable. And with this picnic lunch, we rolled into California, road trip style.

More pix on Flickr here.

Honeymoon: 1 night in Gold Beach, OR

2011-10-19T09:15:00.000-04:00

The southern coast of Oregon was some of my favorite driving the whole way. We started having less plans other than getting to the place we were staying. We allowed ourselves to pull over to the side of the road spontaneously to see sea lions and the views. It was the beginning of a real, spontaneous vacation.

When we got to the B&B, our hostess pointed out the river across the street. "Feel free to go hang out over there," she said, and so we did. I waded in the river and took in the expansive mountains around us. It seriously felt like the last place on earth. Work? Cats? Everyone we knew? Literally thousands and thousands of miles away.

Except not really. We pulled off the coast for lunch and randomly found our way to a Norwegian chip shop. There we were, enjoying a fried lunch, when a former Arc90 employee walked in, on his vacation from New York. I KID YOU NOT. It was the kind of coincidence that you don't understand, the kind of story that is so unbelievable it's spooky.

I've experienced those kinds of coincidences before- and each time, you wonder "why did that happen?" I pay attention when that kind of stuff happens because it feels like you're hot on the trail to the truth of your life.

More pix on Flickr here.

Honeymoon: 1 night in Newport Beach

2011-10-18T09:00:00.000-04:00

When you leave Portland and head towards the coast, you go through a few national forests. We couldn't stop taking photos of the trees. THE TREES! And the air! If I could have captured it on film, I would have.

We eventually hit the coast and got a look at some white driftwood and the mountains to the north; we had never been somewhere as beautiful. It was a good start to our ocean-filled drive down the coast and every time we pulled over to take photos, I couldn't believe where we were.

That first night, we stopped in Newport Beach to stay at a library B&B; all the rooms were themed after authors. We stayed in the Hemingway room and ate dinner with the other hotel residents. It was so much colder than we thought it would be. But it was so beautiful.

More pix on Flickr here.

Honeymoon: 2 nights, 1 day in Portland, OR

2011-10-17T22:29:00.001-04:00

We stayed at the Ace and we rode bikes across the river to a community garden where a gardener offered us fresh cucumbers and tomatoes. We went to Powell's, where we splurged on books and then we went to an Arcade. I had never been! I was terrible at every game but Dr. Mario, which I was slightly good at because we used to have it at home when I was a kid. We ate lunch from food trucks and ate dinner with Kathryn and Aaron.

It was beautiful weather and we were newly-married. We had bikes and books and friends. Chris called me his wife for the first time in a Starbucks. It was sort of like a dream.

Starting the enormous task of uploading honeymoon photos to Flickr. Check them out here.

Well. It's not the Sorbonne.

2011-10-17T09:00:00.005-04:00

Have I mentioned that Chris is learning French? He goes to FIAF every Thursday night from 6-9pm and learns adorable things like "Bonjour!" and "lundi" and "Ca va?"

C'est trop.

I also go to French on Thursdays, but I'm in a different class. I'm taking a literature and history class and I still can't decide if I like it or not. Some weeks I think "LADY. WE GOTTA PICK THIS UP." and others I am grateful that we reread every page in class, but that is mostly on nights when I had a busy week and had to speed through the homework too quickly to absorb what the heck is going on with Cesar Birotteau.

It's not like I'm the master of this class or anything. Several of my classmates have color-coded new vocabulary notes in the margins, while I proceed with a "blaze through and skip looking up words" mentality since, you know, I'm usually reading on a SUBWAY. Carrying the old Oxford-Hachette around NYC is a stretch, even for me.

I am the only one in the class who is not retired and not a foreigner. Do I mind this? A little. Last week we had to change rooms because no one could hear the teacher. "Too drafty!" one shouted, pointing to the windows. "We must move! Je suis un troublemaker! Ha! Ha!"

The 90 minute class consists of us going around the room and reading a chunk of every page that we'd read for homework. This gives us a chance to hear everyone's ~~indecipherable~~ amazing accents and reminds me a lot of the Art History course I had in Paris when the teacher would spend the entire class pointing out details of one painting.

"Look," he would say. "Here is a dog. You see, he is little! And next to him, a tree. What else can we see? A little man, waaaaaay back here. Charming."

I think he may have mistaken us for preschooler Americans instead of Master's students, but I admit there was something soothing about that class. Taking the time to smell the roses (and identify them one by one in a Caillebotte painting) was pretty damn relaxing.

Perhaps reading Balzac page-by-page will be the same.

On life building.

2011-10-16T20:46:00.000-04:00

The past five weekends have been blessings. We haven't traveled. We've woken up every Saturday morning here in Brooklyn, showered, dressed and walked to the bagel store where we order our usual and sit outside the bookstore as we watch the dogs pass by. The other week, two minuscule dogs passed with a hip owner.

"That's the worst thing I've ever seen," I said.

"But here comes the best thing," Chris said. A golden retriever carrying a newspaper in his mouth approached us, his owner leading him proudly along Court Street. It was, indeed, the best thing ever.

If bagels and Saturday mornings and dog watching are simple pleasures, what of the more complex? The weather this morning was so good that we decided to take a walk, a loop down by Brooklyn Bridge Park and back. During this walk, we discussed the pros and cons of planning large life changes in advance.

For you see, dear reader, the large life changes don't stop after the wedding. An entire journey of adulthood and its highs and lows stretches out before us. How will our kids go to college? When should we have those kids? Where will we call home? And what about global warming!?!

Sometimes I think one of the hardest things to wrap your brain around is that your life can be what you want it to be. It is so much easier to hide behind things like history and other people's judgements and what you feel allowed to do. But the tricky thing is to not only realize that the world is your oyster, but to personally select that oyster's size, color and shape.

What kind of life would you like to have? Wouldn't it almost be easier if you were handed one to live instead?

Of course, this is what almost every generation had before us. Their fathers and grandfathers were farmers and so they followed suit. Their mothers and grandmothers stayed home and so did they. In an small honest way, I envy these lack of choices. I envy the opportunity to make the best of a situation rather than construct the situation myself. Because of course, at the end of the today, the fate of my happiness rests in no one else's hands but my own.

A long time ago, my sister was a vegan. And she didn't just actively love lettuce; she also actively hated humans who used animal products. Maybe hate is a strong word. Except there was that time she used the duck cookie cutter to protest foie gras during Christmas... so, maybe not.

I digress.

Although I was somewhat weirded out by her faith to the animal activist community, the part that scared me the most was how fervently she believed in it. She had no doubt in her mind and I'd never seen her so inspired and passionate. I was confused about how to proceed and our relationship vacillated between my desire to learn more about something she cared about and our arguments about brainwashing. At one point, she said point-blank: "You know what your problem is? You never have any opinions."

This sentence has stayed with me for over ten years. I'm sure that today, even she would swat the statement away. But there was something to that, something that I fear even sitting here today. If I am too understanding and too flexible, I do myself no service. If I accept any life plan that comes my way, I do myself no favors.

The strongest option is to choose. To define a life. To share that vision with others and say "here's what's happening." Because in the strength, there is conviction... and in the conviction, there is the power to make it happen.

Next weekend, we break the streak. We're headed down to DC and Baltimore for our annual fall trip. We won't be having bagels and we won't be watching dogs, but the memory of these past five weekends stays lit in our bellies, a reminder of what a quiet life could be like.

I'm already anticipating the kinds of life conversations we'll have with my siblings, the kinds of talks that open doors to the next phases. Thanksgiving and Christmas and my parents' 35th anniversary next year. And, of course, on beyond that.

Cheers to a new week, a new stretch of successes and a bunch of opinions. I think I am learning to have them.

Just because I don't see you everyday doesn't mean I don't care about you.

2011-10-13T22:53:00.000-04:00

Tonight after French class, I rode the subway home with a good friend. He has achieved a lot more balance in his life than I have and I questioned him about that. Given the fact that we live in the city where everything is possible, how does he avoid becoming overwhelmed? And doesn't he feel guilt for not seeing friends more often?

"Just because I don't see someone everyday doesn't mean I don't care about them," he said. "I might go 2, 3 months without seeing someone. But it doesn't mean that I've forgotten them or that I don't care about them."

The Pacific Coast, a place I don't see everyday.

Bam. Straight to the heart.

How often do we make ourselves anxious by typing the words "I haven't seen you in a million years!"? What would happen if, instead of writing this, we typed "I hope to see you in the next million years!" Or better yet, "I'm thinking of you and caring about you. And even though I haven't seen your face in a while, I miss it."

I reconnected with another friend earlier this evening and instead of saying "let's try to get coffee next week," as is my normal instinct at the close of a conversation, I got the check and told her she could get the next one. We did not specify when the next one would be. But there was an unspoken agreement that there would be a next one.

Tonight I got home to find a package in the mail from Bob and Betsy. My god, to have friends like this. A hand-crafted card wishing us our 2 month anniversary. And inside the package, a handcrafted necklace that featured a dried violet from one of the Nana plants at the wedding. I can't imagine how many hours it took Betsy to put such a thoughtful gift together. And the knowledge that she spent that time thinking of us... I am overwhelmed.

No one owes me a coffee. You don't owe me a visit, you don't owe me a letter. Owe is the wrong word. A coffee, a visit, a letter, a handmade necklace are always welcomed here. And as we wait for the next time we see each other, let's wonder about each other often and send good thoughts.

If I don't see you everyday, it doesn't mean I don't care about you. It really just means that I don't see you everyday.

P.S. Thank you so much B&B for the gift. It made our night.

Grateful for a taste of what's to come.

2011-10-12T21:41:00.000-04:00

Sweet mercy, I'm on a sign!

After my talk was over, I told Chris it felt like I blacked out for 20 minutes.

"I feel like I just blinked my eyes and it was over," I said. Suddenly I had moved to my last slide and people were clapping and a few of them had their hands raised. And so I called on them. I offered some advice when I could. I admitted that I didn't know any great A/B testing sites. I may have suggested that I'd be back next year with a talk about zombies and getting inside users' heads.

It was awesome.

Would you guys believe it if I told you that a couple of people came up afterwards to tell me that my non-techy tech talk was refreshing? That they LIKED the fact that it wasn't techy? How cool is that?

In the train ride home, Chris asked if I wanted to do another talk and I admitted that I did. (CUE MASSIVE EYE ROLL). I spent the rest of the ride brainstorming other topics that might be cool to explore. Narrative structures in wireframes? The presence of the author/designer in their "text"? I'm more than a little excited just thinking about it.

But for the moment, I'm sitting here on our couch, completely wiped out from the energy this day required. I'm reveling in the gratefulness of a supportive husband who came and sat with me in the hours leading up to the presentation, who took photos during my talk and who made small talk with people as they waited to speak with me. Lots of people ask me if it's weird to work with my husband and the answer is no. No way, because we are big fans of each other's work.

And even though I was super-proud of myself today, it was even sweeter to hear how proud he was of me too.

P.S. Thanks for the emails, FB messages, texts and in-person presences. You guys pumped me up and I'm very grateful.

Maybe next year I'll aim to save the whales.

2011-10-11T21:24:00.000-04:00

Prepping for the talk with my study buddy.

One of three goals I set for myself this year was to speak publicly about my work. Why did I pick that? I don't have a real fear of public speaking. I've done it before. The reason that goal was a big deal was because I'm slightly unsure of myself in the tech industry. Having a background in the humanities, I've found it hard to find a credible voice among technologists. And all that said, I thought that the experience of speaking publicly would seal the deal once and for all: if I got accepted to speak somewhere and I was able to pull it off, that meant that I had something credible to say.

OH. IF ONLY IT WERE THAT EASY.

I applied to speak at Web 2.0 this spring and heard back early this summer. Accepted. My funky little talk on ghosts and user experience designers, slated for 3:20pm on Wednesday, October 12. Of course at that point, it wasn't a funky little talk. It was a title and a paragraph description.

I can honestly say that creating this talk, a 20 minute talk complete with slides, has been one of the hardest things I've done in my adult life. Last week I was completely paralyzed and didn't open the document for 7 days. The fear that I don't have anything of value to say was alive and well. Kicking me in the gut, day after day.

"What the hell am I doing this for?" I kept asking myself. "This is not even part of my job. It's extra-curricular to the Nth degree. There is no need for me to do this."

And yet. I think it's pretty clear that there is a need for me to do this. Not because it's an expectation at work and not because I wrote about it on my blog and not even because it's holding to a commitment I made. I need to do this because this is the kind of person I've always imagined being, no matter what industry I ended up in. Speaking about who we are in our jobs, the metaphors that are most apt, the motivation and inspiration that can push us to be better at what we do on a daily basis. Whether I ended up in French education, marketing, technology or fly fishing, speaking publicly and coaching others was going to be part of it. Ignoring that instinct means ignoring an essence of who I am.

I spent the day writing index cards, rehearsing and finalizing slides. When Chris walked in the door tonight, I practiced for him. And now that I'm less than 24 hours from my talk, I am no longer afraid. Instead, I feel... excited?

I am! I have a new outfit! And most importantly, I believe what I'm going to speak about tomorrow. Yeah, I'll probably give a better talk in 5 years once I've had the opportunity several more times. But for a first talk in the tech industry, it feels finished enough. It feels ambitious enough. And at the end of the day, showing up and giving a talk, regardless of what anyone in that room takes away, will mean that I was successful in my goal.

Oh. And if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, it should come of no surprise that I've gone and thrown myself in the deep end of the pool. Cause I'm giving a longer version of this talk next Wednesday at a conference in Asbury, NJ.

Uh. Hooray? It's a little tiring to be this unafraid of life.

Needed: another honeymoon.

2011-10-09T21:24:00.000-04:00

Guys, I am tired. I know that's not why you come here, that you come here for the stories. Or possibly the cat photos. But it has been a pretty crazy few weeks readjusting to new stuff at work and trying to keep myself relaxed during the weekends.

Oh. And there's that pesky PUBLIC SPEAKING EVENT coming up this Wednesday.

I keep attributing the busy schedule to New York City. Sometimes I imagine a new life with rolling hills around us and a neighborhood cafe and a Golden Retriever in the backyard. I am not stressed in those daydreams. I still work and I still work hard, but somehow I don't feel as though every moment of my life is accounted for.

But maybe New York City is not to blame. Maybe it's me.

I started reading a biography of cancer tonight. The first chapter is about the way Leukemia works, the fascinating description about how someone's blood with Leukemia might look milky rather than bright red because of the surplus of white blood cells. Leukemia comes from the Greek word for white (leukos). Leukemia is when white blood cells replicate and replicate in your blood. I imagine a bloodstream chock full of cells.

This is cancer. This is not healthy.

I thought about that metaphor tonight, the replication, the fullness, the absence of space. And it reminded me a little bit of our lives here. There does not seem to be a way to take a deep breath without completely detaching from the whole thing. Our honeymoon was a great example of that. Today's day trip up to my parents' house was another example. But then the moment we slink on back towards the city, we become aware of the fullness again.

I don't know. Maybe this is what life in 2011 is supposed to look like.

I mean, it's not like life lately hasn't been 99% awesome and fun.

Pix or it didn't happen:

Famous dude statue: George Washington in Union Square

2011-10-02T09:00:00.001-04:00

George Washington! There he is, pointing at the Whole Foods in Union Square. Or IS he?

Whenever I think of this statue, I imagine all the break dancers who hang out around him. There's a nice, big stretch of pavement nearby where it's fun to people watch and do sweet tricks on your skateboard. At least, it seems that way.

Fun fact: Washington is depicted on the day that he got NYC back from the British, November 25, 1783. He's giving his troops a benediction.

You can find it: 14th Street and Union Square. Go to the Whole Foods and face the park. There he is!

Famous dude statue: Joseph Pulitzer at City Hall Park

2011-09-29T09:00:00.001-04:00

Here he is, good old Joseph Pulitzer, "an immigrant, he rose to fame and fortune and never in the process lost the common touch." Quite a plaque. I'm sure William Randolph Hearst is rolling in his grave somewhere just thinking about it.

Fun Fact: the New York World building used to stand near this statue.

You can find it: Center St. at City Hall, across from the exit of the Brooklyn Bridge.

Famous dude statue: William Tecumseh Sherman in Central Park

2011-09-26T09:00:00.001-04:00

Have you read The Greater Journey yet? One of the artists that McCullough writes a lot about is Augustus Saint-Gaudens, the artist behind the Sherman statue. I was nearby the other morning and snapped this pic. The statue looks a little worse for wear (see all those splotches on the bronze), but it's still pretty amazing. McCullough has called this the best horse statue of all time. Wowzers.

Fun fact: the woman leading Sherman into (out of?) war is the goddess Victory.

You can find it: 59th and 5th Ave.

Fun weekend projects

2011-09-25T16:23:00.000-04:00

This weekend we spent time with friends, relaxed and got a LOT done. I was very happy to spend some time on crafty projects too. Such as:

Wedding Scrapbook- When you get married, you end up with a giant pile of cards and a whole bunch of random papers and memorabilia. For a while, it all sat in a box in our living room. That got old. So I bought a simple scrapbook from the Paper Source near our apartment, a bunch of filler pages and some archival sticky tape-like substance. The result? An awesome, organized representation of every moment from engagement through wedding.

This cost about $100 and was totally worth it. I tried to make something that I wish I'd had from my grandparents' wedding. Hopefully a future generation finds it interesting.

Zucchini, sweet potato and raisin muffins- Via Daily Garnish. These were delicious, healthy and inspired a dinner of sweet potato fries and zucchini fritters. Yum.

Baby shower gift- I can't say too much here, but I worked on a gift for the baby shower I'm hosting in a few weeks. I learned to do counted cross stitch when I was a kid and thought it would be fun to mess around with it again. So far, so good.

Recipe book from the shower- My mom and sister hosted my shower back in May and they'd asked everyone to submit a recipe. I used the pack of recipe cards to standardize everything and get it set in this recipe book. Another wedding project done.

Little kid bday present- I can't say much about this either yet, but I did a photo shoot with the cats for a fun birthday project for a friend of ours. Here's a HILARIOUS photo of Ollie helping me find something to eat in the fridge. Please don't judge our fridge.

Les livres de 2011: round 5

2011-09-24T21:48:00.000-04:00

Day 1 of the honeymoon in Powell's.

I can't remember where I heard it, but I recently read something along the lines of "you can never be lonely when you're reading a book" and it weirdly choked me up! I've been working hard on a couple of presentations for tech conferences lately, one of whose thesis is that design is communication. It's based on the fact that writing is communication. So I've been writing and presenting and talking out loud to empty rooms about how writing is an author sending ideas and stories to the reader on the other end of the line. And boy, sometimes I really feel that. Sometimes, with great books, I really feel that an author and I are chatting on the phone together.

A bunch of these are for the Biography semester which is just... well, it's awesome. And yet it's totally overwhelming. Because here's the thing about reading the life stories of people: YOU WORRY THAT YOU HAVEN'T WRITTEN ENOUGH LETTERS. What the heck is going to happen when our grandkids write the biographies of people of our time? What will they reference, Snooki's tweets?! What's that source material going to look like? A chat session between Prince William and Princess Kate? Gah!

Oh, world. You just have no blueprint for the next generation, do ya?

Let's review some books.

32. Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert

Alright, alright. It's comical how many times Lizzie G is on this blog. But I can't help who I love. I read this book in the three days before we left for our wedding. It served its purpose of relaxing me, keeping me focused on the MARRIAGE and not the NAPKINS, and was a perfect example of feeling like the author's on the other line.

You know how there's that secret list of people whose blogs you read or whose books you read, how every time you read them you think "WHY ARE WE NOT BEST FRIENDS ALREADY?" The reality is that they have no idea who you are, but you just know that you two could totally become BFF over tall skim chai lattes. Lizzie G is the top of that list for me.

The point: this is a good book for anyone in a relationship. Good refresher, healthy dose of perspective.

33. The Whistling Season by Ivan Doig

One of these years I'll write about our honeymoon, but in the meantime I'll share that Chris and I had a honeymoon registry. Along with a couple of material goods registries, the honeymoon registry was a total win for everyone involved. We got to do fun things on our trip, our friends got photos of us doing said fun things, the money was well spent. I recommend.

One of the items on the registry was a shopping spree at Powell's in Portland, a gift offered by the lovely Eliza. So while I'm running around Powell's like a beagle on the hunt, I decide that I need something cheap and fiction-y and new. Something light to read by the pool.

Enter a totally random book about a one-room schoolhouse in Montana in the early 1900s. It was a charming little read, particularly for an East Coast girl. I am somewhat geographically challenged when it comes to anything west of Chicago, so it was good to add a story and a state to my understanding of the world.

34. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

I've been hearing about this book since Chris' stepmom read it for her book club a couple of years ago. It was on my holds list at the library but, because of its popularity, I wasn't due to read it til 2040. Enter Powell's shopping spree.

This is a nonfiction book about a black woman named Henrietta Lacks who lived in Baltimore in the 1950s when she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Through a random chain of events involving local scientific studies and an absence of patient permission laws, her cells found their way to a research facility. These cells are still alive today; they're called HeLa cells and apparently anyone who's ever worked in a lab knows about them (and has probably worked with them!).

This is the fascinating story of an uneducated family who struggles to understand what it means that their mother's cells are still alive, the history of patient privacy laws and the story of a woman whose cells have paved the way for tons of scientific discoveries since her death. Gripping and compelling; I read it in 24 hours.

35. How I Planned Your Wedding by Susan Wiggs and Elizabeth Wiggs Maas

My Mom read this book while we were wedding planning and bought me a copy for my shower. As anyone who's gone through the wedding process well knows, one's threshold for wedding info has a low ceiling in the final months. Though I'm happy to report that post-wedding, I can once again stomach wedding stories! Hooray!

This is a cute story about a mom and her daughter, the ways they tangle and their perspectives as they get closer to the daughter's big day. It gave me some good perspective on how my mom was probably feeling and I'm sure it did the same for her. A good book to read early in the process... or post-wedding. It made me relive ours, for sure.

36. The Greater Journey by David McCullough

Having had the "today is the day I'm moving to France" moment three times in my life, I recognize the feelings. Excitement, nostalgia, disbelief at opportunity, and a deep knowledge that it may get worse before it gets better, all make up the 24 hours before you move across the ocean. The amazing thing about The Greater Journeynails that abroad feeling.

He describes their hesitation at taking ships across the ocean, a relatively new way to travel. Packing trunks, preparing for many years away from their families, they were artists, med students, politicians. He paints the picture of the anticipation, the hope and the anxiety. Then, he clinches it in one breathless sentence to close the first chapter: "Not all pioneers went west."

BAM.

This book is Paris porn for anyone who knows the city. It makes you want to be there, it reminds you of the time you spent there. It taught me so much about who America was back in the day (hint: a young, inexperienced nation). It provided a healthy reminder that Americans have been standing on the shoulders of foreign giants for a long, long time- and that it's not some kind of crippling lack of manhood to admit that.

McCullough is an amazing storyteller, a diplomatic historian. I just love him.

37. Bossypants by Tina Fey

I had dinner with Kelley last week and she mentioned reading this book. "It's so funny," she said, before admitting to laughing out loud on the R train. I couldn't wait.

Chris offered up his iPad so I could have my first e-reader experience and I figured this was a good book to try it out with. I didn't love reading on the iPad - but I DO love Tina Fey.

Here's the thing: it's not as funny as I expected. I think lots of that was the hype (other than Kelley, at least 5 other people assured me that I would die laughing. I am still alive.), but part of it was also the context. Tina starts the book with a couple of grim stories from her childhood and I wasn't sure if I should laugh or sympathize. It picked up towards the middle though, particularly one story about shooting a magazine cover.

Either way, I remain a loyal Tina Fey fan. We got out the old 30Rock DVDs and I spent a few hours heartily giggling. Is it just me or was that show the most hilarious in the first season?

38. Mrs. Astor Regrets by Meryl Gordon

I found this gem in the bargain bin at Barnes & Noble last weekend. Though I'm a sucker for 17th and 18th century New York stories, something about this 2005 drama hooked me. Brooke Astor, the widow of Vincent Astor, was a famous philanthropist and beloved New Yorker who lived to the ripe old age of 105. Towards the end of her life, her only son (and guardian) got into hot water for not taking care of her. And by that, I mean that he started taking expensive paintings off her walls and selling them, then keeping the money himself.

I just love that, in this day and age, we still have Rockefellers and Astors. I find it so fascinating. Forget the Kardashians; these people are just as gossipy. A decent book if that's what you're in the mood for.

Weekend recap. This might be boring to you!

2011-09-18T22:52:00.000-04:00

Some peppers from my garden.

Remember how fun it was to change around your college dorm room? You'd bunk the beds, then de-bunk them, then one Friday night you'd try to get both your dresser AND desk under your bunked bed? The possibilities were ... ok, they were with end. There are only so many ways you can arrange 4 pieces of furniture.

What am I getting at? Well! We here in the Newly-Married-And-Kind-Of-Wanting-Our-Place-To-Look-More-Grown-Up category have embarked on a living room upgrade! It is convenient that our kitchen is ALSO our living room because that means we are also getting a kitchen upgrade. And who said small living spaces in NYC were limiting?!

Anyhoo. I went on an Ikea frenzy the other night and ordered approximately 40 bookcases for our living room. Ok, it was only 3. Sometimes I lay awake at night dreaming about how many books we can fit on those bookcases and how much random crap we can put in decorative baskets that will be placed IN the bookshelves to function as drawers. Finally, a place where our binoculars and extra rubber bands can live in organized harmony! Ikea delivery should be here within 2 weeks, so watch out, world!

We spent yesterday relaxing like it was our jobs. (N.B. it is most definitely not our jobs.) It was the rule of the day. We woke up and got bagels, which we ate outside in the September weather. Then we came back here and I napped while Chris played video games. (For those of you calculating, yes, it is true that I napped around 10am. I realize this probably should count as sleeping in.) Then I started and finished Bossypants by Tina Fey on Chris' iPad.

Verdicts: Tina's funny, meh experience reading my first digital book.

Then we took a walk to Housing Works to donate old clothes, a trip to Barnes & Noble, and finally a lovely dinner out at Bar Tabac.

Today, to make up for all that R&R, I got up and ran 3 miles before 9am. Then we showered, went to Starbucks, and I wrote my presentation for the Web 2.0 conference in 2 hours. DONE! I mean, there's still work to do, but holy crap does that feel awesome. Sometimes I think I miss homework and then when I *actually* have something homework-ish, I am not all about it.

Other accomplishments of today included finishing our thank-you notes from the wedding, baking a cake, making spicy sweet potato soup and rearranging the furniture.

All in all, a perfect blend of chill time and getting stuff crossed off the "to-do" list.

PS If I may mention one irritation... why is it that every time I vacuum, the cats decide to RIP EACH OTHERS' FUR OUT AND SPREAD IT ALL AROUND THE APARTMENT WHILE WE SLEEP? I woke up this morning to find that I needed to vacuum again. Perhaps I will go straight to the source one of these days and use the attachments on Oscar. Sheesh.

This week's balance challenge.

2011-09-15T09:01:00.000-04:00

Last night I took my first HTML class. I want to write more about that, but today's topic is what happened after the class.

Background: I worked late a bunch of nights last week and Chris has been working late a bunch of nights this week. I'm also taking on new responsibilities at work. When I got off the subway last night near our apartment, I checked my work email and immediately regretted it because I knew I'd spend the rest of the night distracted by the messages and mile-long to-do list that grew since I'd last checked in.

Do you guys do that? Check your work email at night or on the weekend? I used to have a strict NO policy on that, but then I let it slide. There's something awesome about being able to move decisions along while you're standing on line at the movie theater or impressing new candidates by getting back to them so quickly. But for me those pros have one major con, which is that I become distracted from my environment and the rest of my night, particularly when the emails are about large, thoughtful decisions I need to make the next day at work.

In any event, I walked in the door and wanted to be super-excited about my little HTML page I'd made, but I was distracted. And then Chris went to mess around on his computer for a while, so I sat and ate microwave popcorn on the couch, worried about how I'd get up to run in the morning and thinking about work. The knot of stress worked itself bigger as I brushed my teeth and got in bed to read my Cornelius Vanderbilt book. Then I tried to read a magazine. Then I tried to do a crossword. And I still felt like a stress-ball.

So (as is inevitable) I finally padded out to the living room and got my husband up to speed. By that, I mean that I told him the long (long, long) list of things I'd committed myself to and things I was stressed about. There were tears. There was the concern that I was disappointing everyone on planet Earth. (I get a little dramatic.)

And then we made the list- I wrote every single thing that I'm responsible for or concerned about on a piece of paper. I was only allowed to choose three to prioritize; the rest would have to wait for a few weeks. I would take a photo of this list, but it's embarrassingly long and detailed.

Example? I'm having a baby shower for a friend in October and I wanted to rip out of all of the summer garden vegetables and replant flowers so that they would bloom in time for the shower. I think we can all guess that THAT got axed.

In the end, I circled three:
1. Husband time
2. Eating healthy
3. Work

"Look!" Chris said. "Health, wealth and relationships. That's the three fundamental things that people prioritize."

And he was right. There's something about coming out normal that's damn refreshing.

The fall-out of crossing off a million other things is that the baby shower will be decorated with fresh-cut flowers. I'm going to run when I can, but not commit to anything just yet. The cats can wait a month to go to the vet and organizing our finances can chill for a bit while I get used to my new responsibilities at work.

Also? We're going to look into getting a cleaning person.

That sentence makes me embarrassed. Why do we need someone ELSE to clean up the cat hair and litter that abounds?! And yet here's what it comes down to: if we can afford it, I would much rather spend the few nights a week that we're home doing something together vs. cleaning the apartment. To prioritize quality time and allow someone else to worry about the mess, this is both luxurious and common sense. My practical, German roots rebel against the idea, but it's time to make good decisions for our little family, not hold stubbornly to past traditions.

Crisis averted! Until the next time, when Chris might just get one step closer to sending the laundry out to be done. Ahhh, the ways we change.

1 month in.

2011-09-13T21:00:00.000-04:00

Today is the one month anniversary of our marriage. I haven't even finished blogging about the wedding, let alone the honeymoon, but that will come. This afternoon I checked in on a blog that I used to read a long time ago and read through the writer's devastating depression and resulting divorce. It crushed me a little, I'll admit, and it reminded me how large and intimidating marriage can be.

I think, if there is a goal to name, I will call my marriage goal "keeping a short leash on unhappiness." Because when unhappiness is tiny, it is manageable. You can help each other through it, you can tease it out of the other, you can goof around or sensitively listen while the other cries. It is not yet a wrecking ball.

The trouble seems to come when unhappiness and distance is permitted to grow and get into the roots of a marriage, where it rots. Suddenly it's awkward to show affection or let things go or feel at all on the same page. If you're in a marriage where things are slightly off, RIGHT THEM! Right them right away. Take a weekend away to reconnect or make the first step in affection or do what you can to close that gap. It might only get bigger.

Sarah, my lovely friend, came down the aisle with her dad on Saturday and I was overcome with emotion. (Let's be honest- crying at weddings is sort of my thing.) But this time it was because I was flooded with so many memories of her writing to me in Paris about this guy named Justin, of us laying in her room when we were roommates, talking about the kind of guys we wanted to marry, of how she romantically decorated a mirror once with images of couples kissing. And there, under the lovely Connecticut trees, she was being married to her perfect guy. It was like a miracle.

As the minister spoke about marriage and what they were entering into, it reminded me of the vows Chris and I took only 4 weeks earlier. I remember holding my breath a little, remembering that we too were signed up for this lifelong project. And I realized that one of the first challenges of such a project was not letting time get in the way of remembering those vows. A busy few weeks and lots of late nights working had taken me so far away from the moment of vows that it scared me for a second, how close it had been to my soul and how hidden it was when I got busy.

It seems prudent to keep the vows and the promises they signified on a short leash too.

Life is, clearly, never going to get less busy. A wedding is more than a diamond or a dress or a party. And a marriage must be fed with good, strong moments together on a regular basis.

When I had lunch with my old boss earlier this summer, I asked her about the happiest married couples she knows. What was their secret? I wondered. She told me the story about a Swiss couple who gets a babysitter every January 1 and takes a hike (and a picnic lunch) up into the mountains. There, they talk about the upcoming year. They decide what trips they'd like to take with the children and they talk about the goals they want to achieve as a family. And when they come down from the mountain, they are on the same page.

May we always choose to climb a mountain together, no matter what comes our way.

And now, back to normal life.

2011-09-11T22:01:00.000-04:00

I know that Labor Day traditionally marks the end of summer, but with this past weekend over, it now finally feels like fall. One of my dearest friends got married this weekend (I'll write more about that soon) and as she and her new husband head off to Hawaii for their honeymoon, I find myself coming home to ground ourselves in our new lives as married people.

My mom drove us back to Brooklyn this afternoon with the gifts from our wedding and I spent the afternoon and evening finding a place for everything. Now that the last hurrah wedding feast is over, I'm looking forward to eating healthier, seeking out fall fruit and (excitedly!) finding my way back to running.

Once the weather got hot earlier this year, I was less motivated to run. Plus I was busy for a while, we traveled, yada yada. But now! It's perfect weather for a run and tonight I found myself researching local races. I put together a training plan for the next 6 weeks to get back in shape for a couple of 5ks and a 10k and I'm thrilled that my excitement for running is alive and well.

Slightly unrelated: I'm not sure why it took me 30 years to get a sweater organizer, but that's the truth and tonight I hung ours in my closet (thanks, Josh!). People. GET THEE A SWEATER ORGANIZER. You are guaranteed to feel 85% more organized. It's basically the best thing ever.

Alright. Off to turn into a pumpkin and have an early bedtime. Tomorrow morning restarts running! It's going to be a little rough considering all the pie I ate last night, but you gotta start somewhere.

P.S. Blog shout-out to Abby (aka yesterday's Maid of Honor), who told me this weekend that she reads my blog. And to her mom, Gwen! I had no idea these posts got to your eyeballs and it makes me happy that they do. Here's the fabulous Abster herself:

The pleasure of a wander.

2011-09-04T22:06:00.000-04:00

Wandering with Maddy in London, Feb 2011.

Our friends Angela and Lucie moved to Brooklyn from Paris while we were on our honeymoon. They're only here for a year but oh, what a year I predict it will be. We took them to Governor's Island for a picnic yesterday, where we ate sandwiches and edamame and Italian pastries fresh from Greenpoint. Then we walked around the island and got our exercise in for the day.

But there's a funny thing that's been happening in my brain since we saw them. While picnicking, Lucie asked me when I started to change my mind about New York. When did I start to like it? And it took me a second before I finally said, "I guess I started to like it more when I went out INTO it. When I didn't stay home in my apartment actively disliking it."

I talked about how learning the history of the buildings and the neighborhoods has helped me appreciate the city. Although it will never be as old as Europe, there's a lot here! Doing walking tours, reading books and just generally encountering the same streets again and again (and again...) helped me break what is a giant city into smaller bits. And now I really do love New York for what it is.

After we left the girls, I thought more about why I love Paris so much. I'm currently reading The Greater Journey (anyone who knows Paris would LOVE this book...) and I'm able to trace the movements of the people in the book because I know the streets mentioned. When I don't know the street, I look it up on the map provided in the front of the book and BAM. I'm there. But why do I know Paris so well?

It's because I did a LOT of walking there.

If I were living in Paris on a pretty and warm Sunday like today, I would have chosen a neighborhood to investigate. I would have taken the metro there and then found my way home, walking through the winding streets, learning the monuments by foot. I would have purchased a pastry or sandwich along the way, happy just to wander and absorb the city. Walking in Paris wasn't only a mode of transportation; it was an activity, an aesthetic way to pass the afternoon. It's not a coincidence that I drop 20 pounds every time I move there!

My experience wandering Paris is what allows it to be a "moveable feast" to me (a la Hemingway). At any moment, I can imagine myself at the Arc de Triomphe, wandering down the Champs-Elysees, down past the Place de la Concorde and the Tuilerie Gardens and along the river. Past the Pont des Arts, the Pont Neuf, the Louvre and down to Notre Dame. Or better yet, up towards the Marais. Sometimes, for clarification, I'll pop onto Google Maps to remind myself the name of a place or a street and it's like I'm there again. (This paragraph will make no sense to anyone but people who have lived in Paris. Ah well, it's a treat for those who have!)

Earlier this afternoon I considered wandering in New York. I barely know the Upper West Side and I thought about taking the subway up there and wandering down as far as I could before I tired myself out. I don't know why we aren't accustomed to this in New York. There are plenty of pretty walks to be had, but we're usually rushing past them to get where we're headed. In New York, the goal is more important than the ride. And that's exactly what hijacked my afternoon walk idea. Instead of something slow and meandering, we walked to Target, then to a friend's house to catch up, and then straight back home.

Maybe tomorrow I'll wander. Or maybe with Lucie and Angela here this year, I'll get into the habit of calling them to meet me on a street corner and we'll wander together. I'll point out the historical facts I know along the way, they'll see the streets with fresh eyes, and our friendships will grow as the blocks accumulate.

Friend walks. I love it. Photographic evidence to come!

Guide to roadtripping the Pacific Coast.

2011-09-03T22:13:00.001-04:00

PHEW. I haven't been able to muster up the energy to upload all of our honeymoon pictures to Flickr yet, but tonight I managed to write up our recommendations for things you should do if you're considering a trip out west! To read the travel guide, click here.

Things of note:

I left off our hotels in San Fran and in Carmel because we didn't love them and I wouldn't recommend them.
If you're thinking of skipping Oregon, that's the wrong decision. Other than Big Sur, the prettiest parts of the drive were southern Oregon. Plus, people were nicer there.
I don't really like California. Maybe it was preconceived notions, but I didn't like the vibe of the people and somehow I just can't take them seriously! This may be my New Yorker blood surfacing here, was just interesting to realize.
We drove 1503 miles in 12 days. We paid one toll- $6 to cross the Golden Gate bridge in San Fran. Crazy!
Here was our itinerary, for those who want to reference it:

Portland, OR (2 nights)
Newport Beach, OR (1 night)
Gold Beach, OR (1 night)
Mendocino, CA (1 night)
San Francisco, CA (2 nights)
Carmel, CA (1 night)
San Luis Obispo (1 night)
Palm Springs (3 nights)

And now, some pictures to whet your appetite for the west coast...

The ceremony.

2011-09-02T09:00:00.000-04:00

Post-wedding, hotel room shot.

Though I'm an extrovert, I don't like being the center of attention much. I'm a decent singer, but can't do karaoke. And I can speak publicly, so long as the content of my speech is the focus.

So you can understand that the prospect of having a string quartet announce your arrival while you're hoping that your hair, dress, make-up and shoes are holding up well, is a bit daunting. Not to mention the fact that everyone's just LOOKING at you, EXPECTING your emotion. Even reveling in it! Because who doesn't like seeing real emotion? In a world of reality television, authentic tears are endangered.

So as my Dad and I turned the corner to come down the aisle, I broke the fourth wall. I waved to everyone. And in that way, everyone laughed, or smiled at least, and I could laugh a little -- and in that way, I felt less like an actor and more like a member of the group.

So there you are on your Dad's left arm, and you look up towards the minister, towards the place where the bushes come together poetically, towards your best ladies and the dudes you know so well. And suddenly, this SUPER-HOT COMPUTER PROGRAMMER is standing there! (Oxymoron? No!) And he is waiting for you to stop waving at everyone and get the hell down the aisle! And you just have this moment like, "whoah. WHOAH. whoah."

Our minister had us face the crowd the entire time, which was lovely because I could look out and see individuals. My aunt looked awesome! Maddy and Katie were there and so was Fanny and Sima! And all of the Arc peeps and I remember seeing my High School buddies towards the back. It was like one of those dream sequences when you wake up and think "what the hell was my Aunt Jean doing in the same place as some of my residents from 3rd floor Prosser?", except it's your wedding day. Total dream.

Our minister was so, so wonderful. She was charming and funny and most of all, calm. She told a story about having emailed us several days earlier to ask why we loved the other and why we wanted to get married. It was the first time I'd heard what Chris wrote and it's an understatement to say that the man is, himself, an amazing and thoughtful writer.

I remember my sister crying and my mom crying. I only cried a little when Skersh read the e.e. cummings poem that I've always dreamed would be read at my wedding. I remember reading that poem out loud when I lived with roommates just a block from where I live now. I remember wondering who those words would apply to one day, hoping very much that I might just find a nice guy to be my best friend.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

I remember that Chris had trouble getting my ring on but that his slid on pretty easily. I remember that he got choked up during the vows and I looked hard into his eyes, willing him on, being strong. I remember looking over and seeing Evelyn looking pretty with her cello.

And then the minister said "Jennifer, you may kiss your groom," and I whooped in my heart for feminism and kissed him. Then she pronounced us married and we walked down the aisle and high-fived.

Because all of that? It sure did deserve a high-five.

[Coming soon: the party...]

Semester 4: The Art of the Biography.

2011-09-01T22:30:00.001-04:00

Confused about Project Learn? You can check it out here.

Probably as a by-product of learning about New York all summer, I became very interested in some of the individuals I was learning about. History might be considered the combination of decisions made by important people.

I'm interested in people. And so for the fourth semester of Project Learn, we're going to tackle Biographies. Let me be clear: this biography thing could be 15 years worth of material for Project Learn. But since I'm restricted to 3 months, we're going to keep things simple. A diverse group of biographies and then some activities to highlight the importance of individuals.

Readings (choose 4 of 6)
Bossypants by Tina Fey
The Greater Journey by David McCullough
The First Tycoon: the Epic Life of Cornelius Vanderbilt by T.J. Stiles
Vera by Stacy Schiff
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
The Emperor of all Maladies (A Biography of Cancer) by Siddhartha Mukherjee

Assignments
Visit my grandpa and do a video interview about his life
Visit the Vanderbilt mansion in Newburgh
Watch lots of 30 Rock
Create a family calendar with family members' birthdays, anniversaries, important dates. Make an effort to send cards to celebrate the important moments!
Weekly photo posts of statues (or art!) dedicated to an important person

QUESTION TO THE GROUP: Who are you fascinated by? Who would be at the top of your list if you were reading biographies? Share!

The days leading up to the big day...

2011-09-01T21:36:00.000-04:00

The morning of my wedding, I spent a lot of time repeating a Liz Gilbert mantra to myself. I said it to myself while the stylist did my hair. I said it to myself for about an hour on my parents' deck while my family got dressed upstairs. And I said it a few times to myself after my Dad dropped me off with my dress at the main house at Lasdon. I hung my dress in the bathroom and then I paced around the suite a few times.

All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

And then I looked out the window and saw my parents, sister and brother's girlfriend walking towards the house where I was hidden away. I will never forget how proud I was of my beautiful family just then.

Behind them, Becky and Alan were setting up the speakers for our sound system. My Aunt JoAnn had arrived with our homemade wedding cake. And the florist was setting up the splays for the ceremony. I realized I didn't need the mantra anymore: everyone had shown up. Everyone had done what they'd promised.

And for someone who planned much of the wedding herself? Well, that was the hugest sigh of relief I've ever let loose.

Here are the violet centerpieces before we left Brooklyn, all baby plants grown from my Nana's original:

Here we are doing crafts the night before the rehearsal. It was Chris' birthday and even though we were pretty burned out, Steve and Kate sat with us and helped us decorate the violets, burn mix CDs for favors and arrange the place cards in alphabetical order:

I won't forget that. Giggling about how Chris wrapped his groomsmen gifts, all of us a sleepy bundle of nerves.

The morning of the rehearsal, my Mom, Kate and I drove up to Stew Leonard's to buy cut flowers. Leigh and Courtney had volunteered to arrange our centerpieces (cut flowers meet jam jars for the win!). A few miles into the drive, our car was throwing sparks. I won't forget how we thought we might have a flower disaster on our hands, but how a helpful Santa-looking man arrived, jacked the car up, and put the car's heat shield in our trunk. Then he waved us on our way.

Don't let anyone tell you that $116 of fresh cut flowers won't look elegant. Because they are dead wrong. Leigh and Courtney put their Muhlenberg educations to work and they LIBERAL-ARTSED the hell out of those centerpieces!

But truth be told, it took me until that moment hidden away in the bridal suite to let go. Suddenly I grew a mountain of trust. All of my fears that people would be irritated or annoyed to help us disappeared and I believed that people wanted to be there, that they wanted to help us. And that we weren't an imposition on anyone.

This may sound funny, but I've realized over the past year or so that I have a pretty deep assumption going that people won't show up for me. At my 30th birthday party this year, I spent the whole night worrying that everyone wished they were somewhere else. And I let it ruin my night.

On August 13, I looked out the window and I saw people showing up. Not only were they there, but they were dressed to the nines. And maybe it was because of that discovery, because of that surprising realization, but I was no longer emotional about walking down the aisle. I knew I was about to walk into a crowd of lots and lots of love.

And one very important member of that crowd was a guy who has always shown up.

[Coming soon: the wedding itself...]

The life.

2011-08-24T18:33:00.000-04:00

I’m sitting in an expensive coffee shop in Palm Springs. It’s 119 degrees outside - an unbearable heat - and so we’ve been chased indoors, to used bookstores and cafes like this one during the long, hot hours of the afternoon.

Across from me sits my husband, formerly my fiance and previous to that, my boyfriend. (Further back still, he was “cute-guy-I-worked-with,” but that’s a while ago). He’s drinking a vanilla latte; three weeks ago he would never have ordered this, but our honeymoon has brought out all kinds of new habits in our lives. Coffee drinking is one of them. We can’t drink it without filling the cup halfway with milk and adding at least three packets of sugar, but we’re having fun with it. This morning Chris went back to the room after breakfast while I stayed and finished my cup in the hotel restaurant. I sat and sipped and appreciated the culture of it. Coffee, so far, seems to be another lovely excuse to sit quietly and contemplatively after a meal or in the company of an old friend. Much like wine, a cup of coffee (even better yet- a little French press pot to prolong the moment) gives you an excuse to cozy down into a big chair and wonder about the world.

We’ve seen quite a bit on this trip. I resisted the temptation to sit and write every night, wanting to record the memories before they faded into one general “roadtrip.” It is our honeymoon, after all, and letting go of reporting life to the minute detail on Twitter or Facebook (or this blog) was a big part of our intention. For the most part, we’ve steered clear... and for that, we have been rewarded with full minds and relaxed postures.

I’m sure that this honeymoon wouldn’t be right for everyone, but I’d like to submit that it was PERFECT for us. It has been an adventure, each day offering the most fun things we’ve never allowed ourselves before. For example, one day we woke up early to go horseback riding through the forest and onto the beach. And from there, we drove to have lunch overlooking the California coastline. And then we went to a castle. We finished by eating steak in the most ridiculous dining room we’ve ever been in. AND THAT WAS ONE DAY.

After 8 or 9 days of that, we rolled into Palm Springs and spent all of yesterday in the pool. Laying around by the pool and reading did not sound like the honeymoon we wanted (I would be bored in 4.3 seconds), but somehow finishing the trip with 3 days of this is perfection. This morning I bounced between sitting and reading for 15 minutes and then jumping in the pool for 10 to cool off. It was the most perfect combination in existence and it sure didn’t hurt that we were in the most beautiful hotel I’ve ever seen.

This morning after I took the final sips of my coffee, I signed the bill with my new name. I finished my coffee and I signed a new name and I went to find my husband to go swimming in the 119 degree heat. And then I pinched myself because, this? This is the life. This is my life.

And I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

Hitched.

2011-08-18T11:14:00.000-04:00

P.S. We're honeymooning in blissful Oregon right now (headed to CA today), but wanted to post this preview from our photographer. So much to write about our wonderful wedding, but right now I have to go wade in a river and watch for elk. (Seriously!!!) More from me when we get back in a few weeks!

Les livres de 2011: round 4

2011-08-08T09:02:00.001-04:00

Ahhh book reviews. Remember when they used to happen? Well they're back!

23. The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

I read this book because I was so into Mary and Loving Frank. It's a similarly structured plot: the life of a man who was incredibly famous/talented/influential told from the point of view of his wife. In this case, we're talking Hemingway and we're talking sweet Hadley, his first wife.

Even though Hemingway is pretty much a bastard, I finished this book being REALLY into him. I sympathized with Hadley for sure, but as soon as I closed the cover I went on a mission to the used bookstores in my neighborhood to buy up every Hemingway book I could find. This was a great story and would be an awesome companion read to The Sun Also Rises, which he was writing during his marriage to Hadley. Looking for a related movie recommendation once you finish this? Try Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen's most recent film. We loved it!

Bookstore in Madison, WI.

24. The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

This was my third time through this book. I took a really cruddy American lit class in college for my English major and I hated every book we read but this one (i.e. Death Comes to the Archbishop... DEATH COMES TO MY BRAIN was more like it). But The Age of Innocence blew me away, so much that I literally wrote "WHATTTTT?????" on the last page of the book. My 20-year-old self couldn't believe it ended the way it did. I considered the ending as tragic as Romeo and Juliet!

When I read it again a few years later, I didn't feel quite as extreme about it. And then this time, I thought "you know, that's just life. Sometimes people don't always end up together." I consider this a sign of my maturity.

I read this book for the Project Learn semester. Since I was focused on NYC, I picked up many more local references than I ever had before. I was inspired to take the Greenwich Village walking tour and I saw many of the places that Wharton wrote about - and even where she lived!

Edith Wharton, you're a classy dame. And this book is definitely worth a read, if not three.

25. A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway
Ok, so I already wrote a mini-review of this book in May but for the sake of consistency, here goes.

If you have ever had an inclination to be a writer or artist, this book will convince you that your life requires at least a year in Paris. It's what pushed me over the edge several years ago to move abroad yet again and Paris in the 20s is high on my list of places to time travel to, should the technology ever catch up with me.

As a memoir of his time in Paris, it's also the most direct way to connect with Hemingway. I find his memories completely endearing and you get the impression that he regretted some of the way things turned out with Hadley.

26. For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

Continuation of my Hemingway obsession in May/June. I'll admit that I was really surprised I didn't put this book down. It's a war story about the Spanish-American war and it reads... oddly. Like an old book and almost like a translation, but much of that has to do with the Spanish peppered throughout.

But I puttered along and could not believe the ending. It was AMAZING. I made Chris listen to the final few paragraphs, reading them aloud late at night when I finally finished it. Holy sentences, man. The dude could write.

27. She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

Every once in a while, I stop by my friend Leigh's apartment and we order takeout pizza and sit around with wine and catch up on life. It's great. The last time we did this, she forced several books on me on my way out the door, She's Come Undone included.

This book read like a pre-cursor to Junot Diaz's The Brief and Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao. They're both really deep, far-reaching stories... but they're also both incredibly sad. By the second half of the book, I was getting pissed off. Could the author imagine any new horrible things to happen to this character? And oh! He could!

So I'm mixed on this one. Definitely a deep story that spans many years, but not exactly a pick-me-up plot.

28. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

I read this book when it first came out and my love of JSF, first ignited by Everything is Illuminated, grew exponentially. That love was vastly reduced when I encountered him in person at a New Yorker Festival event (he just came across really... jackassish). Nonetheless, my semester on NY piqued my curiosity for a reread.

I love the richness of the writing in this book. It's chock-full of personality, of tone and of the style of the main character's voice. It's the story of a young boy whose father was killed in the 9/11 attacks. I'm very picky about my 9/11 reading choices, mostly because it's such a political bomb that's evoked by everyone and their mother to pander to emotional heartstrings (see: politicians). So when an author writes about it, it better be powerful in a way that doesn't draw its strength from emotion.

This story accomplishes that. It is unique, touching and completely refreshing. Highly recommend it.

29. Clara and Mr. Tiffany by Susan Vreeland

First things first: the writing in this book is terrible. Sucks! Horrific! I gagged on a few sentences! And I would have put it down many times if not for my raging interest in Tiffany lamps.

The book is another New York book. Based in the late 19th century, it's the story of Clara Driscoll, a woman who worked for Tiffany & Co. for many years as the manager of the women workforce. The ladies worked on large glass installations, like stained-glass windows. Though it was previously believed to have been Mr. Tiffany himself who came up with the idea for a Tiffany lamp, letters discovered earlier this century identified Clara as their inventor.

So if you can make it through the most awkward writing of all-time, you're going to learn a bunch about the lamps themselves. If you can't, I don't blame you.

30. The Women of the House by Jean Zimmerman

I totally loved this book but I literally can't think of one person I know that I'd lend it to. This book is the story of the Philipse women, originally of Dutch descent, whose guts and determination led to founding Philipse Manor (a town in Westchester). You're sleeping already, aren't you? I knew it!

If you're at all familiar with Westchester County, you might love this book. There are so many fun facts about the history of Manhattan and Westchester - most of them Dutch-related! For example, did you know that Dutch women didn't have to change their names when they married? And that they were entitled to the same education as boys? It wasn't until the English took over New York that we ended up becoming much more prim, proper and... dude-centric. Way to go, Brits.

I picked this book up randomly at a bookstore in Madison and loved it so much. It's a really unique point of view and I love that the author is a woman. Her admiration of these Dutch women shines through. Highly recommend!

31. Inside the Apple by Michelle Nevius

Dude, there ARE a lot of New York books in this set of reviews! I'm going to make a bold statement here. Inside the Apple was, hands-down, the BEST book about New York that I've ever read. Here's why!

It was concise. Every other history of NYC is so long that I only get through the Dutch era before I stop reading. This means that I'm basically an expert of Dutch New York (kidding... sort of.), but that I know absolutely nothing about the 19th and 20th centuries. This book sped through 400 years of history in less than 300 pages. Love it.
It was relevant! The book is written in short little 1-2 page chapters about random buildings, stories and people who were important in New York. 9 times out of 10, I knew the exact building they referred to.
There were walking tours at the end! You know that I love a good walking tour. My recommendation is to read the whole book and then plant yourself in a part of the city you're interested in, then do the tour. I think it'd be too overwhelming to read the history WHILE you're standing outside the buildings themselves.

This book was a total winner. Coming to NY? Live in NY? Buy it so you can mark it up and visit your favorite landmarks the next time you're in town.

Easing into the rest of our lives.

2011-08-07T19:58:00.000-04:00

We've got less than a week to go. We've got a forecast that's hovering at 30% chance of precipitation. We've got a plan to get the dress, get the sound system, get the violet plants, get the hell out of Brooklyn on Thursday morning. We've got two days left of work.

What don't we got? NERVES!

That photo is me at the Transit Museum this morning. If I can wish one thing for each of you, it's that you are relaxed enough the weekend before you get married that you can visit the Transit Museum together and take funny pictures in all the old trains.

When our kids throw us a 35-year anniversary party, I hope they remember to look at this blog to get a sense for the anticipation we were feeling. I'll be the first to admit that maintaining excitement about getting married over a 10-month engagement isn't feasible. You have to be a productive member of society, so you can't spend all day every day talking about HOW AWESOME THE FLOWERS WILL BE. AND THE FRIENDS! AND THE CAKES! You have to take it down a notch... you have to live life as if it's completely normal.

But then you're less than a week from marrying your best friend and the excitement bursts through in little explosions at random moments. When you're signing your name at Trader Joe's, you think about how the next shopping trip could be with your husband. FIREWORKS! Or when you're sitting on the couch together eating quesadillas, talking about who you're most looking forward to seeing and what moment you're anticipating the most (him: seeing his bride for the first time, her: pronouncement of man and wife). FIREWORKS! When he gives his seat up at Starbucks to a woman who walks with a cane. FIREWORKS!

Wedding hammock, a gift from my sibs.

Last night, antsy about what to read next and not yet ready to commit to a biography about Cornelius Vanderbilt (yep. I know. NERD.), I picked up Committed again. That Liz Gilbert, man. She makes me want to reread her infinity times just to spend time with her charming, witty and best friend-ish brain. I feel good spending my final few days as an unmarried reader in her capable hands.

What else? The semester on NY was highly undocumented, wasn't it? I'm sorry about that. Believe me when I say that I was buried in New York history all summer and that I'd like to post more about it, but we'll have to see how time works out. August has always been planned as my summer vacation away from Project Learn and I'm very excited to roll back into my fourth semester come September. More to come on that.

One week from now we'll be at the airport to leave for our honeymoon. We're taking a roadtrip down the Pacific Coast from Portland, OR to Palm Springs, CA. We have plenty of time to explore places abroad and plenty of beach vacations when kids come, but for now we wanted a domestic roadtrip adventure for the two of us. We're so, so excited to start things off in Portland, a city that we visited almost a year ago and one that has lodged itself deep in our hearts.

Then we head down the Oregon coast, down towards the Redwood forest, through San Francisco (wooo!), Carmel, Big Sur, Santa Barbara and then a swing over to Palm Springs to complete the Ace Hotel portion of our love story at the fourth and final Ace. Then we're flying to Milwaukee where Chris' family is hosting a party for those people who couldn't make the NY wedding and THEN we're coming home. It's going to be 3 weeks of crazy awesomeness. We don't even have the volume of underwear to support such a long trip!

Sometimes I wonder what happens when all of this is over, when our friends and families are back in their states and countries and the honeymoon registry is closed and we've got tons of photos to remember everything by. I would like to say that we'll come back to plain old life, but if you know anything about us, you know that plain old life isn't something we're big on. We've got lots cooking over here: Camp Mighty later this fall, a trip to Japan next spring, French classes for Chris (his bday gift!) and miles of road ahead of us. A long, long road of life to be lived.

We are ready to live it.

Yet another Sunday night where my heart bursts of excitement while blogging at a Starbucks.

2011-07-31T21:20:00.000-04:00

It has been a very full summer. Much of it has to do with the impending events surrounding our wedding. Random visits to New York for friends and family has increased this summer, allowing for more mellowing and reveling in the company of good souls. This morning my brother and I sat around discussing how to keep our family close, particularly now that I am spinning off. In less than two weeks, I'll have a different last name. And while this is an entirely welcome change when it comes to joining Chris as his partner, I admit that I lay quietly one night a few weeks ago, unable to sleep, and cried a little for the end of an era.

For the past two weeks, I've had my nose buried in a book called Inside the Apple. I love it. I love keeping my eyes out for the small snippets of New York left from the 1600s, the 1700s, the era of Edith Wharton and that of La Guardia. It is complex, this city. In a way, I hate that its gloss and sheen doesn't match, that there's no single aesthetic. Take Paris, for example, for its white fortress-like buildings. New York doesn't have that going for it.

But I do think in the past few weeks, I've come to appreciate that this city depicts a timeline with the depth of literature. While I mourn the Dutch houses that were torn down or lost to fire, New York City shrugs its shoulders and says fuggedaboutit. There's always more history to come.

Same goes for me, no matter my name.

I don't want to write about the wedding on the blog all the time, but indeed, it is where my headspace is and I know I'll one day regret having none of the details marked down. We walked our photographer around the venue yesterday, pointing out where Chris will get ready, where I'll slip into my dress. Last week I had my last fitting and I'm very happy with what I'll wear to get my wedding on. It's simple and romantic and unique. I'm wearing flat sandals because I have no patience for heels when there's dancing to be done. I'm wearing my mom's pearl necklace, Katherine's veil and (most likely) Sarah's earrings. If some people are what they eat, then I am surely what I will wear that day, a combination of newness and oldness, borrowedness and plain old happy.

I watched Sheryl Sandberg's TED talk a few weeks ago and whoah. It fueled me. You know how someone talks about a space that's open, an opportunity or a vision and you just want to get on board? That's how it felt. Like all of the potential in my cells pooled together and I was suddenly ready to sit down and take names and take off. I've always had ambition, but have had a hard time wrapping my head around which direction to point it in. Well call NASA 'cause I've got some rocket fuel in my back pocket, ready to prove something about myself and about women leaders but also (and maybe more importantly), ready to work really hard towards the success of something larger than myself.

So we've got thirteen more days until we cut the ribbon on our brand new lives. New name, new ambition, new husband (but luckily, same old Chris). We leave the night after the wedding for the airport, destination Portland, where we'll start our honeymoon roadtrip down the Pacific coast. I am so excited for bike riding and hiking and book shopping and beach laying and pretty-view-driving and life planning and talking and not talking.

And all of the awesome, exciting things that are over the horizon for our new little family. T minus 13. Go.

Titles are important.

2011-07-27T21:16:00.000-04:00

I've been spending a lot of time in bookstores lately. Here are two titles that made me gasp, they were so beautiful:

Next stop: Tiaras and Toddlers and Oscar & Ollie.

2011-07-19T17:46:00.000-04:00

This morning a woman from KittyKind, the shelter that we adopted both cats from, emailed me to ask if our cats could be featured in a 2012 calendar. They'd come to our place to do a photo shoot and we'd write up a blurb about the boys, how we got them and what they're like.

I mean, are you kidding me? Appeal to my parental side, why don't you!

So O & O are about to become famous. I cannot wait to see what month they're picked for. I suppose it's possible that they're chosen for separate months, in which case Oscar would probably be best suited for May or October, totally comfortable and relaxed months. And Ollie? What's that month that represents total affection but also nightly paper-eating and other inedible objects again?

Here they are rumbling a few weeks ago...

Rumble from Jen Epting on Vimeo.

The pretty things of July.

2011-07-18T20:11:00.000-04:00

Inspired by the flowers of Madison, I hit up the farmer's market last weekend for some flowers. Since I'm about half a summer too late, they were having a sweet sale. A flat of 18 plants for $20. Yes, please.

They've been making themselves at home on our deck for over a week now and have filled out their pots more fully. Even though they each take an entire watering can every morning (a horrible zap on my morning pre-work time!), I love them. They are colorful and rising to the occasion of summer. They decorated a little gathering we had this past weekend and they will continue to brighten the deck as foreign friends come to stay while we're away on our honeymoon.

The garden, in general, this summer has been bountiful. String beans and snap peas and lettuce galore. Lots of herbs too that always seem like good ideas, but that often head to seed long before I could ever use them all. Ah well, there must be something to fill the spaces between the bigger crops.

This is a cheesecake I made this weekend, my very first one. It was a New York cheesecake, which means that it was made with a little lemon zest- and people went wild! Cinnamon graham cracker crust and all, I was pretty proud of my latest creation.

We picked up our rings yesterday and I'm in love with my wedding band. It's so tiny and fragile and I love thinking about using my hands while wearing it to do crazy life things. Like give a baby a bath or high five my husband or hold open a copy of my first novel while signing it for someone. Choosing the jewelry we'll wear for a very long time is such a special thing.

Somehow in the past ten days, we've gone from wedding anxious to wedding ready. Oh sure, we have to figure out programs and print out table numbers, but we're set. And ironically, once we've calmed down in our waking life, my sleeping life is full of anxieties. I can't get my necklace out of its box to wear or my hairdresser only does half my head or my mom refuses to put on her gown. Last night I tossed and turned for hours, not because I was anxious, but because it's all a lot to take in. It's all a lot to process and imagine happening and get excited about. And now that we have our guest list finalized, it's really, totally imaginable.

I used to have dreams, with other boyfriends, that I got to the alter and left. I woke up, heart pounding, feeling like the worst person in the world. Haven't had that dream in over three years. And so even though it's extremely irritating to be thinking about extension cords at 4am when I'm woken up by one of the cats, I'm so extremely grateful that I'm not worried about who I'm headed down the aisle to meet.

Beginnings on a Friday night.

2011-07-08T22:12:00.000-04:00

Tonight was grilled cheese sandwiches and microwave popcorn and rain. Old, dusty rain that started falling late in the afternoon when everyone at work wished it was two hours later than it really was.

Rain on a Friday evening feels like summer vacation from summer. No roof decks call, no sunny streets tempt, you don't even want ice cream.

What you want is a grilled cheese sandwich with popcorn on the side (double serving of carbs, please) and a tall glass of cold water. What you want is your fiance playing video games while you settle deep into the couch and start writing the novel that presented itself during the flight to Madison last week. What you want is for the novel to come out as easily as its 12-chapter-outline did.

It doesn't. Not as easily. But you still get 1500 words in. And that's a very good start.

Napping brothers.

2011-07-07T21:54:00.000-04:00

Madison and choosing cities.

2011-07-07T21:37:00.000-04:00

Tonight I tried to broil chicken on my stone pan and it exploded in the oven. On top of that, the chicken didn't come out very good. Chris suggested a post-dinner walk, which was a great idea. When one feels like a domestic failure, the best solution is to get some fresh air (and get away from exploded dishes).

Brooklyn is less shiny than it was a week ago. We spent July 4 with our friends, the Sarahs, in Madison. I can't attest to what Madison is like in the winter (my guess = an icy nightmare), but the summer in Madison? Pretty much Crayola:

Those orange lilies are everywhere. Like, as if someone a hundred years ago took one billion seeds and planted them all around the soil so that they would sprout up every year, their very happy faces making even the dingiest of college housing charming.

I'm going to write a Madison travel guide in the next few days. I've been researching Japan lately - we're headed there in the spring - and you'd be surprised how hard it is to get personal advice on traveling. All I want is for one of the bloggers that I normally read to post the best places to get coffee in Japan and I'm there. Unfortunately, I'm relegated to Fromer's and Lonely Planet and lots of Google searching. Then I remembered that I have MY VERY OWN travel section and that I should put my travel tips out into the world before expecting some in return. So stay tuned, Madison tips.

This afternoon I took my wedding dress to get fitted and Sarah (not one of the Madison Sarahs) came with. She brought her bridesmaid dress and they quoted her $200 to have it made a bit smaller. Obviously this is insane. And you know what? It's New York! It's totally this damn expensive city; something that would be $50 somewhere else is totally blown out of proportion on this stupid island.

You get what you pay for. I know that. We have diversity and culture. I hear tons of different languages spoken on the sidewalks around me on a daily basis. Our airport flies to anywhere.

But seeing smaller cities has been good for us. Tonight while we ate our ice cream, we talked more about Portland, how we're looking forward to visiting it again during our honeymoon road trip. Madison was lovely, but we both agree, a little bit small.

This stuff is hard, you know? When you look several years in advance and think about the kind of life you want to be living, it almost seems easier if you have one option. Tonight we talked through everything from London to San Francisco. It's a different world today than it was 30 years ago when my parents had me.

One truth: airplanes, when you can afford them, are easy. You lunch in New York and dine in Madison with friends. We have friends flying in from England and Switzerland and France for our wedding. When you want to make the time and the friends are important enough, things come together. I guess, no matter where we end up, that's one of the things we can content ourselves with.

More Madison pix here.

Orphan cats and a favor.

2011-07-01T15:20:00.000-04:00

I worked from home this morning, letting the laundry happen behind the scenes as I wireframed. This weekend makes two in a row that the cats will be alone. I kind of hate that, but our neighbors across the hall are going to come and take care of them every morning with their kids in tow. I'm sure they will be fine... though Ollie was very cuddly this morning as he sensed something was up.

Ollie in a rare moment of being still.

Ollie on my lap, Oscar in background.

I have a favor to ask! I'm working on a presentation I may give at another conference this fall (I KNOW. TWO CONFERENCES. It's crazy.) and I am looking for... wait for it... photos of people's bookshelves at home! Or at work, I guess. Essentially, I'm trying to collect a bunch of photos of people's bookshelves and I wondered if any blog readers would want to send some in!

If you're interested (come on, what are you doing this weekend anyway? Take a break from the watermelon.), please email jennifer DOT epting AT gmail DOT com with at least one shot of your bookshelves. Also, please answer the following questions:
1. How are your books arranged? (Even "by size" is technically a way to arrange!)
2. Is there a section of the shelves that is most important or that holds the most important books? Which is it?

And that's it! I may have a few follow-up questions, but mostly I'm just getting started on some cool and funky research over here in User Experience land.

Happy 4th!

Are we married yet?

2011-06-30T13:10:00.000-04:00

I'm having a rough day and most of it is because of that darn wedding infringing on what was otherwise a very happy life! This morning I wrote out checks to vendors only to find out that we have no more normal US stamps, only foreign. So in a fit of rage, I stuck $.98 on each envelope, which is only traveling to Westchester, NY. I guess those puppies rode first class.

Not having stamps is not a big deal unless you are six weeks from your wedding and you hate everything. Like you hate talking about vendor insurance, for example, or the impending necessity of making a fun reception playlist when you do not have 98% of the songs you want to play. Is this boring you yet? I know! That's what happens when you are six weeks away, you get totally boring and just walk around muttering about what time the ice cream will arrive and will it fit in the freezer.

When I got to work today, I googled foods that will reduce stress and just finished a salad that had avocado, walnuts and almonds on it. Now I'm all zen and relaxed and slouching in my chair! Not really. Ok, a little.

We're leaving for Madison, WI tomorrow. When we first planned this 4th of July trip, I think we were both kind of nervous about being away for a whole long weekend so close to the wedding. It's safe to say we're past that now. We're like, GET OUT, GET AWAY! Get far away from Brooklyn and wedding errands. If you have not yet been through a wedding and you believe you will do this at some point in your life, I cannot more strongly recommend a long weekend trip six weeks before the wedding. We will be forced to ride bikes and take walks and eat BBQ food for 4 days with the Sarahs. BOO HOO!

As I ate my low-stress salad over lunch a few minutes ago, two things made me happy. This post by Mimi Smartypants made me laugh out loud and the following pictures of big, white dogs really did the trick. Having a rough day, even if it's not because of a wedding? Take a look at these guys...

Ok, now for the grand finale:

Philly weekend.

2011-06-27T09:36:00.000-04:00

We spent this weekend in Philadelphia for the last wedding we'll attend until ours. It was goosebump-inducing, hearing the vows and watching my friend Galen come down the aisle with her dad. At some point I thought "geez, I better do some kind of therapy beforehand, something that will allow me to not sob through my entire ceremony." Then I reconsidered and decided I might just take a shot.

These past few weeks have been so filled with wedding errands and emailing vendors that we've found ourselves needing to distract from the upcoming event at hand. Last week I called Tuesday a "wedding-free day," a suggestion that Evelyn had made to me way back when we got engaged, but at that point I thought "who the heck needs to lay aside one day per week to NOT do wedding stuff?" Little did I know.

We stayed with Jess and Sean on Friday night, dear, dear friends from Muhlenberg. We had the best time catching up in a pub, then wandering out for Starbucks the next morning and catching the flag-raising ceremony at the Betsy Ross House. There is nothing better than Saturday morning chai in your pjs at the Betsy Ross house with Jess:

We got back to Brooklyn last night after a traffic-filled ride home with Anne and Tyler, happy to be back with the cats. New York passed a bill this weekend to allow gay people to get married in our state and that feels just right. Here's to many happy, respectful and lifelong marriages - for everyone!

More pix from our weekend here.

So true.

2011-06-23T16:38:00.000-04:00

From page 133:
"Men talk." She pointed her finger. "They talk all the time. The truth is, in normal daily intercourse, men never shut up. Let me give you a for instance: three men building a stone wall. Talk, talk, talk. Artie, they go on and on. Every rock and angle has to be anointed with talk. Ad nauseam. People: it's a lousy wall. Throw the damn thing up and be done. But no. When they finish and it's time to relax, that's when they shut up. Have you ever seen workmen eating lunch? Staring into the distance, chewing like zombies, not one word. With women it's exactly the opposite. We get down to work, and we don't want anything pleasurable to get in our way. Think of all the grandmothers in the kitchen rolling dough. All business, only shorthand talk allowed: put that here; no, not those; roll it thinner, that's the way. But when the pies are in the oven, they sit down with their cups of tea and the fun begins. To a man, talk is work; to a woman, it's reward."

- Three Stages of Amazement by Carol Edgarian

Shots of NY: West Village and Fort Greene

2011-06-21T09:11:00.000-04:00

In the past month, I've done Big Onion walking tours of the West Village and Fort Greene. Don't know Big Onion? Well, they're the best. $15 per person, you show up with cash in hand and a very smart PhD student takes you on a tour, full of fun facts and gorgeous things you wouldn't have noticed yourself.

The Village is a part of Manhattan that I've always been intimidated to explore. The roads are twisty and confusing and I'd never wandered in that part of town, other than getting lost on the way to a restaurant. But I loved it! It's all Edith Wharton and Henry James over there. I'd just finished The Age of Innocence, so I was pretty into it.

I'd wanted to do the Fort Greene tour because I run over there sometimes and I am ALWAYS lost. Part of the fun thing about doing a walking tour is laying out a plan that you can come back to later. You can be sure I'll be returning to run around Clinton Hill once the weather cools down.

P.S. Fun Fort Greene fact? Richard Wright wrote Native Sun in Fort Greene Park. Writing in a park = awesome.

Why a wedding is more than 6 hours in an arboretum.

2011-06-16T10:10:00.000-04:00

The shower with my lovely bridesmaids.

Here's the truth about having a wedding: it's only 50% about the wedding day. At least, that's how it feels to me. Because in the ten months leading up to The Wedding, an event which will start at 5pm and end around 11pm, there are a billion little events and moments that count just as much.

A former boss (and someone I am honored to call my friend) happened to be in New York last weekend. She lives in Luxembourg and for a bunch of reasons, isn't going to be able to make it to our wedding in August. And so we spent three hours together at a Le Pain Quotidian in midtown last Saturday, talking about the best marriages she knows, the reasons I love Chris and the differences between French and American weddings.

"Should we take a walk?" she asked after we had paid the check. And so we walked down 3rd avenue a bit while I talked about not yet having sandals for the wedding.

"Let's go into that shoe store!" she said and because she has insanely classy style, I listened to her. Thus ensued 30 minutes of trying on various sandals and shoes and I walked out with a pair that were on super-super-sale and that will allow me to dance all night long. The sandals are great-looking. But the memory of purchasing them with a dear friend who won't be there on The Wedding Day is priceless to me.

There are hundreds of other examples. Dinner last weekend with two friends who have volunteered to handle picking fresh flowers and arranging them in centerpieces the morning of the wedding. Dinner last night with old friends who, amid great conversation about innovation and art history and musical performances, volunteered to loan us a sound system for the reception and DRIVE THERE TO SET IT UP THEMSELVES. I sent an email last week to our whole company asking if anyone ate Bonne Maman jam and would they save their empty jars for us. A co-worker that I barely know showed up the next morning with 20 jars.

When you let people in, when you invite them to participate in the joyful moments of your life, I promise that you'll be blown away.

A college friend wrote me a 3 page email suggesting places that we should stop as we drive down the Pacific Coast on our honeymoon (including places to sleep, eat and take random beach walks). We'll be spending the 4th of July in Madison, where I'll meet Chris' extended family and spend a few days with the Sarahs, a visit we have wanted to take for a while, now prompted and expedited because of The Wedding Day. These are examples of the tiny branches that grew out of planning this event, but branches that I did not anticipate, branches that make our wedding tree fuller and stronger and more meaningful than the 6 hours on August 13 we are excitedly waiting for.

I picked up my wedding dress on Sunday morning. It was shiny and new and so much whiter than the one I'd tried on in the shop. My Mom came down to the West Village and so did one of my bridesmaids, Katherine, who brought the veil she wore in her wedding, when I was one of her bridesmaids. I'll be wearing her veil; it matched the dress perfectly. I love that my Mom is getting to spend more time with my friends, getting to know them through this process of planning and parties and pretty dresses.

I know I'm going to cry my face off at our wedding. Part of it has to do with this insanely grateful feeling I have when I think about the man I'm marrying. I did good to wait for him. I'm going to have a great life, and a huge part of that is because he's going to be the one next to me.

But another reason for the tears will be the culmination of these wonderfully intimate moments among the people in our lives. It means so much when people reach out and are there to celebrate with you, regardless of whether they can make it to the actual day or not. That feeling, the feeling of us being loved and respected, is really just the best in the world.

Camp Mighty, party of 2.

2011-06-15T18:08:00.000-04:00

This morning Kelley emailed me with a link to Camp Mighty. It's Maggie Mason's latest gift to the world, a long weekend of meeting other people who want to change the world and learning how to do both practical things (tie a knot!) and insane things (accomplish your life goals).

Here's the moral of this story: Chris and I are going together. My FUTURE HUSBAND and I are going. We're going to figure out the individual and together goals of our lives. It's taking place in the Ace Hotel, Palm Springs, where we'll have finished our honeymoon only 3 months earlier.

I am freaking out of amazingness. How lucky am I that we're doing this together? People, I'm totally marrying the right guy.

The new East River Ferry. Excellent.

2011-06-14T21:45:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the first day of the new East River Ferry and I took it home from work! If I never get around to writing that book, at least my grandchildren will have one thing to brag about.

Here we are leaving Manhattan in the dust. This new ferry service is free until the 26th and let me tell you guys something. FERRIES ARE SO MUCH BETTER THAN SUBWAYS. If you need proof, let's examine the behavior of people on both forms of transportation. People on subways say snide things to each other and give you mean looks when you actually find a seat. People on ferries? Well, they're much too busy wind-blowing their hair for any of that!

Look at how peaceful that dude looks. He's like "man, here comes Williamsburg. I wonder who built those ridiculously shiny buildings." Me too, dude. Me too.

One of the best things was getting a view of Brooklyn that you really can't get from anywhere except the water. I never knew these signs and factories existed! Also, gotta love that Lehigh Cement. Go Lehigh Valley, PA!

When the ferry let me off down by the Brooklyn Bridge, I was still a 20 min walk from home. But since the Brooklyn Bridge Park's job seems to be making my neighborhood more beautiful every damn day, it was a picturesque walk home. See?

Moral of the story: ferries rule. Mostly because of how joyous everyone around you is. When this other ferry came by, we all waved and cheered. I mean, what?? That never (EVER) happens on the subway.

So now we're basically BFF.

2011-06-08T10:05:00.000-04:00

One of my very favorite things about living in New York is that you're almost guaranteed to see every author or musician if they're on a tour. It's an embarrassment of riches; last month I saw Elizabeth Gilbert twice in one week. (And what a grounding week it was...)

Last night was the first night of Ann Patchett's book tour for her newest novel, State of Wonder. I haven't read it yet, but I started it this morning in the train and within two paragraphs I was sinking into the bench on the 4 train, struck speechless by how masterful she is at writing a novel. She read a scene last night about an anaconda that had everyone's jaws on the floor. (By the way, you should totally see if she's touring in your city. Here's the schedule.)

I read Run last summer while I was in Iowa for the summer writing workshops and I gotta say, it's not just a good book to read. It's also a good book to learn how to write! I can't tell you how many times I've gone back to Bel Canto to see how she ends chapters or changes perspective. Patchett's books are writing how-tos if you read them the right way.

I almost never stay for book signings, but she's such an approachable writer that I picked up a copy of her new book and waited on line. When it was my turn, I handed her my book and said "Hi!"

"I love your necklace!" she said.
OhmygodAnnPatchettandIarebestfriends, I thought to myself. But I said "thanks, cool. My fiance got it for me for Christmas."
She opened the book to the title page.
"Your books are really helpful to learn how to write," I said. "I'm writing my first book and I find myself looking to Run and Bel Canto to see how they work."
"Oh!" she said and started signing, but not before she looked right at me and smiled for a minute.

Later I looked at what she wrote:

I mean, is that the best or what?

On being "away."

2011-06-06T10:07:00.000-04:00

So I read this blog post by Steven Berlin Johnson over a week ago and I can't stop thinking about it. Steven B. Johnson is an author and thinker about innovation who lives in Brooklyn. I heard him speak last year at a conference, where he was really engaging and made me want to read every one of his books. (Best one I've read so far: The Invention of Air. Amaaaaazing.)

Anyways. His most recent post is about picking up and moving his family to California for two years. Their kids are young and his job is flexible (author/speaker for the win!) and he's always wanted to spend some time out west. What's unique about this situation is that they're not moving, per say. They're spending two years somewhere else and then coming back to Brooklyn.

And I gotta say, I adore this idea.

On hearing about their move, one of his friends told him that this is going to be like slowing down time. Since the four of them are going to be focused on where to live and getting lost in their new town and finding the best places to eat and just plain old DISCOVERING all the time, they're going to be able to spend more time together. No more routines, no more birthday party obligations or standing lunch dates or stuff you do just because you live where you live and everyone else is doing it. For two years, they're going exploring.

Can't you just see it? The kids grow up and they talk about the two years they spent in California. The two years when they hung out with their Dad more than ever, when they all piled in a car and drove to see the Redwoods or vacationed in Seattle or got to know the friends and family out there who they never normally see. By breaking the schedule of life in Brooklyn, they create unique memories, ones that will last longer than the others, because they aren't all blurring together in a rhythm of sameness.

On Friday night, Chris suggested we take a walk. It was gorgeous weather and we had eaten an early dinner, so we headed down to Brooklyn Bridge Park, where we found the WORLD SCIENCE FESTIVAL was kicking off! There were telescopes for star gazing later in the evening and at 8:30 there was a panel of astronomers speaking about their jobs and the universe. We were giddy! A beautiful evening with a stunning sunset over Manhattan and a free panel filled with super-smart guys. It was an awesome night, one that I won't forget for a long time.

But what allowed us to stumble onto this? For once, we had a free weekend. No plans, not even one. And with the freedom from obligations, we allowed ourselves to be more spontaneous, to wander our neighborhood, to stumble upon and enjoy something without worrying about needing to get back or get up the next morning.

We woke up Saturday morning and decided to grab the ferry to Governors Island. Let me be clear: we've wanted to go to Governors Island for over two years now. The ferry is a 7 minute walk from our place. And yet! Not once have we made it down there, not once have we taken the 3-minute ride to the island. Friday's spontaneity put us in the mood for more exploring, so we spent a few hours walking the island, swinging on swings and sitting in Adirondack chairs.

It was the best thing ever.

And all weekend, this joy kept bubbling up in me, this love of doing tons of fun stuff on the fly. It felt so familiar, I couldn't quite place it. Until I could. And I realized that a huge reason why my time spent in France was memorable is because, while I lived there, I was free. Family lived far away so there wasn't the guilt of needing to plan visits. Most of the people I hung out with were not from France either, so we didn't have hang outs that required calendars. We were there for a year, living it up without repercussions or savings accounts. And every single day was a clean slate, one that could end with a dance party or dinner by the Seine or a free night at a museum. I miss this, but have never found myself able to replicate it on this side of the ocean. I have always assumed that this is a France thing, but now I'm wondering if it isn't, simply, an away thing.

There's no clean ending for this blog post because I don't know what the ending is myself. Is the moral of the story to move away every few years, take a year abroad? Am I supposed to resist making plans here in New York so that they never feel like obligations? Or is this another one of those life balance problems that you never quite figure out? In lieu of an ending, how about some pictures from our super spontaneous weekend, eh?

Shots of NY: The Chrysler building and the Flatiron

2011-06-01T11:21:00.000-04:00

I walked to my friend Leigh's new apartment last week and ended up passing through Madison Square Park again. Since I've already shared that in an earlier NY post, I figured I'd turn around and snap a picture in the opposite direction. Look at this sweet building:

I wonder who lives in the Flatiron. And what kind of rooms they built at the front tip...

And then we have our old friend, the Chrysler building. Chris and I emerge from the subway through this building almost every morning. Just yesterday I switched roles at Arc90 and my new team happens to be in an office with this view:

Uhhh... AWESOME? Or what?

5 years!

2011-05-30T22:07:00.001-04:00

People, this is what a crazy busy weekend I had. I forgot my blog's FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! I just realized it as I was pulling laundry out of the dryer; this very day, my blog turned 5.

I love this blog. I love the way it helps me to connect with people I rarely see (or have ever seen or met!). I love that I can make semesters for myself and use it as a platform to do so. I also really love writing on this blog, real writing that doesn't result in a photo and a quote from the latest Oprah show. Those posts are okay too, but I treasure the fact that I have a medium through which I can explore and advance my feelings and instincts on life stuff.

This morning, for example, I was supposed to run my second 10k ever. I had a couple too many drinks at a birthday party last night and forgot to eat dinner. We came home around 10pm and got ready to pack our things for our super-early trip to New Jersey and I had a mini melt-down. I was not ready! I didn't even have clean running clothes! I hadn't made potato salad for the post-race BBQ and I certainly wasn't thinking about how I would accomplish my first race without a running buddy.

So I lay awake half the night. Pissed at myself and falling somewhere between goading myself into getting up and running the damn thing and forgiving myself for being a human and not being perfect. I bailed this morning at 6am when it was thunderstorming in Brooklyn and I couldn't imagine running it in the rain on top of the 90 degree heat.

I beat myself up about it for half the day. And then I made potato salad and we drove across the GW bridge to New Jersey and we spent an awesome afternoon eating hot dogs among friends. My friend Rich even said he was proud of me for skipping it (and expected that next time I'd better call from jail to cancel on a race or something more scandalous) and that made me laugh.

No one held a grudge against me for not meeting my goal today. I think that's a useful reminder of how I should think about the readers of this blog too. There is so much guilt (ahhh the guilt!) that lives out there when you don't post for a while or if you don't post photos that match your words. What if you write too much about your cats? Or not enough about your job or the city you live in? What ever happened to the online cooking school? A blog is an endless string of beginning storylines that, depending on a blogger's free time, may go nowhere and may go everywhere. It can be a lot of pressure.

At the end of the day, this blog will be one representation of the life I've lived over the past five years. There are others. A history of the books I've checked out of the library is another representation. So are all of my Flickr sets. There's no way to record every move and every aspect of a person's life, try as technology might.

And so we'll let the blog posts fall as they may. Five years in, that's what I'm finally at peace with. Sometimes you'll get thoughtfulness and sometimes you'll get cat pictures and sometimes you'll get posts in which I spout off about the importance of something that's bothering me.

But no matter what, I can promise that you'll always get me.

From Oprah's last show.

2011-05-26T09:51:00.000-04:00

Recent blooms in our living room.

"What I knew for sure from this experience with you is that we are all called. Everybody has a calling, and your real job in life is to figure out what that is and get about the business of doing it...[A calling] lights you up and it lets you know that you are exactly where you're supposed to be, doing exactly what you're supposed to be doing. And that is what I want for all of you and hope that you will take from this show. To live from the heart of yourself. You have to make a living; I understand that. But you also have to know what sparks the light in you so that you, in your own way, can illuminate the world."

Full text from her inspiring finale speech here.

Shots of NY: New York Road Runner's club

2011-05-25T15:49:00.001-04:00

If you ever register for a race with the New York Road Runners, you'll need to pick up your race bib at the headquarters. These people are OR.GAN.IZED, let me tell you. They have a two-story building on 89th Street, which was named after Fred Lebow, the president of NYRR for 20 years and the founder of the New York Marathon.

Looking for a good documentary for this upcoming long weekend? Check out Run For your Life, which tells the story of the NY Marathon. I dare you not to cry!

Reporting from a Brooklyn apartment near you.

2011-05-24T21:18:00.000-04:00

I feel like I need to write this post so that I can report lots of news and clear the air for new random posts that I've been thinking about. (Sometimes when I write sentences like that, I think "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? A post about NEWS about you?? Who cares?!" I'm telling that voice to kindly shut it for now).

Breaking News: I did not go to the library thing.
But it's not why you think! It's because, as the week progressed, I got sicker and sicker. I had a fever and then I felt like I was swallowing glass shards and then I went to the doctor and he gave me antibiotics on Friday. So... infecting 499 others in the NYPL was not in the cards, nor was staying up all night. I am pretty bummed out about it (especially since Meg and Maddy were so motivational in the comments of my last post) and have avoided reading anything about the night.

But you know what? I'm going to have other amazing opportunities in my life and there's no sense beating myself up for getting sick.

Breaking News: My shower was freakin' awesome.

I will write a separate post about this, but my shower was so lovely. In fact, it was so lovely that I almost passed out while opening gifts! (That may or may not have had something to do with being on antibiotics... or feeling overwhelmed as the center of attention).

It also made me think a lot about a secret fear I have, which is that people will not show up for me. When it comes down to it, I realized that I'm really afraid that coming to my shower or my birthday party or another event that focuses on ME, is too big of an ask for people. I'm still struggling with this, but am so very appreciative to the friends that made it to the shower. You guys proved my inner critic wrong.

Breaking News: I ran a 10k.

What?! How have I not posted about this? Two weeks ago, we spent the weekend in DC. First we helped my sister move to Baltimore and then, early Sunday morning, I met Moriah (an old M'berg friend) near Union Station to run 6.2 miles! We had the best cheering section there and made it through the miles fairly easily. I'm running another 10k on Memorial Day and haven't been running so much since I was sick, so here's hoping that goes just as well!

Breaking News: 2011 Goals are happening!
You may remember that I posted these three goals for this year in my first post of 2011:

1. Get our finances organized.
2. Run a 10k.
3. Speak at a public event for work.

And here's how they're shaping up:
1. Chris and I met with a financial advisor this afternoon. I guess we're really adults now. She reassured us that we're actually fairly organized compared to other people our age and she's going to help us make a strategy to meet short, intermediate and long-term goals. Deep breath, we're on a good track.

2. Um... done!

3. It has really been a crazy day. This afternoon I got an email letting me know that my proposal to the Web 2.0 conference was accepted... so I'll be speaking at the conference in New York this fall! All I can say about this is YOWZA. I'm so proud that I stuck to my guns and submitted a proposal, though I'm admittedly a little nervous when I think about actually getting up and speaking in front of all those people.

Breaking News Finale: Snuggling Cats Alert.

All my dreams are coming true. Fin.

When social anxiety rears its ugly head.

2011-05-18T20:50:00.000-04:00

The truth of it is, I'm very nervous about the Find the Future adventure game on Friday night. Here's why:
1. I have to stay awake. ALL NIGHT. I normally get 8 hours of sleep.
2. My bridal shower is the next day.
3. I have to work all day on Friday.
4. I'm.... scared of the social dynamic.

What! Yes. I am. I know some of you might find this hard to believe, but ever since I heard that the teams are not organized by the leaders of the game, but rather by people getting into teams themselves, I've been feeling very nervous. What if I don't get picked? What if no one likes me? What if I'm on a team with horrible people?

Yesterday I came down with a cold, the same cold that my brother had last weekend in DC. And though I had registered to run a 5k at Wall Street last night, I bailed on it last minute. It made me feel terrible, like I'd failed my running and my bib number and my training plan... but in another way, it felt so good to bail. Suddenly I had a free evening. Granted, I mostly just sat around taking Advil and sniffing, but it felt so good to relieve my calendar.

In some ways, I've been thinking about bailing on Friday night's amazing event in the library. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? It's the experience of a lifetime, I get to write a book with other awesome people, and I might even get to meet Allez, Allie (she, too, is playing!). I just get these weak moments where I think "Well, you are sick, and your shower is the next day, and it does sound like an intense night." Poor baby.

This afternoon I thought about ways to bully myself into not bailing on the library. Writing on this blog came to mind. I started thinking about how uncomfortable this whole experience was making me feel and then it smacked me across the face. DISCOMFORT? I nailed that last semester! Or, at least, I learned how to nail it.

So I started deconstructing what made me feel anxious. I researched the train times to get to my parents' house the next morning so I knew that I would have plenty of time to get to the shower and even take a nap. I went on the Find the Future Facebook page and admitted how nervous I was about staying up so late. Finally, I read through the guidelines that the game leader posted so I knew exactly how the night would go.

Aren't things so much more scary when you don't know the details?

I'm feeling better about it and I'm most likely going to go. But I wanted to share this on the blog because it's one of my weaker moments lately and I think those are just as important to share as race victories and successful dinners. Everyone has a version of themselves that is anxious and afraid of being left out. Myself included.