Fashion Advice Needed

It's auction time! (a.k.a. dress-up time.) I have one for our school and one for PNW. I was looking for something to go over the cute little art deco dress (Exhibit A) I bought on sale at the end of the holidays when I found a great vintage inspired jacket (Exhibit B) that I can make work with my new favorite (totally impractical but too beautiful and cheap to pass up) burgundy patent heels!

I know it's hard to tell without seeing it on... and I don't think the photo does the jacket justice. For some reason I feel slightly more comfortable with the more mature outfit B in the company of our school parents. Maybe save A for PNW?

Please advise.

Sushi For One

Yet again, my favorite sushi place managed to make me feel like an inadequate single person three separate times during the process of ordering and picking up my take-out. Is it really that unusual that I'm single at my age? Or is it just considerate business practice for them to assume there are at least two people eating? I didn't even order enough food for two people. (Did they forget to tell me the rule that you aren't allowed to eat take-out alone?)

Their insensitivity propelled me into an examination of what my life must look like to outside observers. Luckily, I caught a glimpse of my sticker-covered Nalgene water bottle in the back seat as I got back into my Subaru, and I was reassured that the obviously outdoorsy/independent part of me probably looks relatively strong and capable enough to the outside world.

I am pretty confident that I will be in relationship(s) again and that there are plenty of big things on the horizon of my life. And I usually genuinely appreciate that I am on my own unique path, and am grateful for the time to figure out who I am and what I want before I have to do that taking a significant other or children into account. But why do let their assumptions about what my life should look like (and how many chopsticks I should need) make me feel lacking in the meantime?!

I've also played the outside observer game for my own life while working on my scrapbook again, walking page by page through my bumpy past. As I'm reliving the late 90s/early 2000's, I am amazed to see my own smiling face in so many photos. I think of those years as having been really hard. Lost years where I was desperately trying to get my feet down underneath myself and glad to have lived through them. (And I have to fight the discomfort of how heavy I look to get myself to revisit them). So why does all the evidence show me smiling? A lot of the photos include my niece and nephew, and I am most often genuinely happy in their presence. But it's never that simple. Why not document and memorialize all of the important, good and bad, amongst the smiles. I'm not sure how to do it, but I'm ready to explore the possibilities.

And I'll try not to be offended when they try to sell me two cups of Miso soup even after I clearly say "one".

I Heart Volleyball

Volleyball season is here again! Looking at the calendar, I was worried about what I got myself into by coaching again, but after the first practice I remembered why I do this. Pure unexplainable joy. Who would have thought that bouncing a ball off forearms could do so much for me. Although, I think it's the power of hitting that I love. But setting is unexplainably satisfying, as well.

My old team graduated last year, and I loved them so much that I wasn't sure how I was going to cope with the new crew of adolescent girls. Then, they seemed more interested in decorating themselves than with the volleyball part at first. But as it turns out, they love it too, and they are willing to listen. Luckily, they seem to be under the false impression that I know what I am doing as a coach.

It's not all roses, though. We had our first match this weekend, and the games were very close - but we lost. I've certainly lost before, but I couldn't shake this one off right away. I'm afraid it was my fault because I could have done a better job with the line-up. There's just too much going on during the games for me to see everything and adapt the plan a lot as we go... all the while trying to maximize the impact of the best players yet not appear to favor anyone since that's not in the spirit of the league (and parents are all watching closely). Fortunately, several people reassured me that I'm doing a good job, and it actually sank through my thick skull a little. It takes time to get to know the girls as players, and now I know more after seeing them in a game. Just like we tell the girls: if you aren't making any mistakes, you aren't doing anything challenging enough. Somebody keep reminding me about that, please.

I am lucky to only have a few regrets in life. But a big one is not trying out for volleyball my junior year of high school because I wasn't sure I would make it again. Fear! Perfectionism!! Sad. Luckily, volleyball found me again right when I really needed to remember I had a strong and athletic side.

P.S. Another big regret... calling my dad on his 64th birthday without having John, Paul, George, and Ringo sing "will you still need me, will you still feed me..." I may have failed as a daughter.

Grown-up Grammar Lessons

My wonderful elementary school taught many things well... I find I am better than average at making sure a lot is two separate words. I've been known to shun a suitor upon realizing they don't know the difference between your and you're. I can probably even fake my way through who and whom. Unfortunately, the affect vs. effect lesson somehow slipped through the cracks. And now it's driving me crazy, especially since I seem to find it necessary to parade my writing ability (or lack thereof) on the internet.

Sometimes I know what I'm doing. I know about "cause and effect", and facial affect comes up a lot when talking about aspergers and autism. But somewhere around "had little affect" and "was for effect" it gets messy for me. And is it affective or effective? So I did a little research:

"Affect" is usually a verb meaning "to influence".
The drug did not affect the disease.

"Effect" is usually a noun meaning "result".
The drug has many adverse side effects.

"Effect" can also be used as a verb meaning "to bring about".
The present government effected many positive changes. (Ha!)

I tried mentally substituting "result" for effect and "influence" for affect, and I did pretty well when I took a quiz! Let me know if you have any other tricks. If all else fails, I can always walk around reciting, "The arrows affected the aardvark..."

Trying to act like an intelligent and well-educated person all the time can be very tiring. Especially when you already can't do math in your head. (I'm a visual person, OK?! I need to write it down. And maybe use some fingers...) If I hadn't miraculously come out at the top of my all male college Calculus II class including one former boyfriend and one mad crush, I might be worried.

Addicted to Blogging

OK, yes. I started another blog... but just for my TNT training saga, I promise. I'm thinking of ease and sensitivity to potential donors who might want to support my ride but don't need to know all the other gory details of my life. I'm not sure how to manage both. I think I'll just double post the stuff that may be interesting beyond the cycling/training side of things.

Don't worry I think I'll tire out soon. Feel free to tell me when I've gone over the top. Or just find a nice gentleman to distract me for a while.

Confessions of a Caucus Dodger

After the last presidential election, I was so disillusioned that I emotionally detached from big picture politics. Really, my country voted for another four years of that?! And apparently I have absolutely no control over this handbasket. So I passively aggressively made jokes about village idiots, and focused on what little good that could be done for the young faces in front of me.

When I heard Obama's speech at the last Democratic convention, I stopped in my tracks. It felt like a real adult finally got a hold of the microphone. It sounded like the leadership I was craving. And it didn't hurt when he was intelligent and charming on Oprah. Meanwhile, we all saw Hilary's big plan the moment she announced her candidacy for the Senate. I was curious about both, but relatively apathetic.

Of the two, I'd take either over what has been going on. But neither is all I really want. Neither will say that being gay is human and that all humans deserve equal rights. Neither is above tearing their fellow party members to shreds. Maybe they really can't and actually get the chance to do any good if they don't play the game. But they can't even try to be above it?

I still wasn't sure which way I was leaning when last Saturday came around. Not enough to stand up for anyone. And I was slightly intimidated because I don't really understand the whole thing. So instead of caucusing, I went on a bike ride, then ate grilled cheese with my niece and nephew. Time well spent, I thought. I left the decision to people who already knew what they wanted. But when I heard Obama won the WA caucuses, I felt an unexpected twinge of disappointment. And guilt for being one of the passive citizens who infuriate me.

I think Hilary has won me over. I love being inspired to see the potential for a better world, and many people I respect deeply are passionate about Obama. But I'm not sure I trust that he knows how to go about making these wonderful changes. Even though her voice sometimes sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, I trust that Hilary hows to get things done within our crazy system rather than wasting more time fighting with congress. Well, and those tears in New Hampshire didn't hurt. Or is it as simple as more easily identifying with a white woman? And perhaps remnants of a childhood dream to be "the first woman president" myself.

And isn't this whole thing a little overdramatized?! Think of what else could be done with those millions and millions of campaign dollars...

Romantic Comedies Must Die

Remind me when this became my life? (Apparently we're back to that.)

I just watched the Jane Austin Book Club (neither the film nor the book were as fantastic as I hoped - try The Reading Group instead. But anyway...). When they got to the end where the right people finally kiss, I didn't get the heartwarming reaction I usually get in spite of myself. I just wanted to cry. It's a mean trick they play. They suck me into their world where people in relationships are only a fraction of the complicated and guarded mess that they are in real life (myself included). It's not real, but I enter the dangerous territory of wishing it was. And any image of people waking up next to each other makes me ache with longing. Bad combination.

Interestingly, the two most recent inappropriate men both resurfaced briefly last week. Karmic Pop Quiz? I managed to retain my dignity and walk away, although one of them more easily than the other. Luckily, I have good friends to help the "stop it/don't go there" voice be louder than the others for now...

P.S. on 2.13.08: I may not have technically walked away from one of them after all. Somehow I got sucked back in and even ended up asking/daring the football coach to meet for another drink. I was feeling momentarily tough. He doesn't get to flirt with me anymore if he doesn't mean it. Apparently. Luckily, he said he was busy. So I called him a wimp. And so goes the 7th grade banter...

What is wrong with me?! Just walk away, lady. Logic and self-preservation have obviously abandoned me. I blame pheromones.

Nina Luna Does Book Review

My librarian friend lent me a book that blew my mind! The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Intimidatingly thick at first grasp, but it's juvenile fiction and mostly illustrations.

I was sceptical, but quickly won over. So stylized. And the form fits the function and story beautifully. Going between words and pictures seamlessly, both moving the story forward in their own distinct but symbiotic way. Very specific, intriguing historical subject area. Just dark enough to create tension and longing. And just the right amount of sentimental - appealing to the little part in all of is that is lost. And just enough magic.

It's a picture book and a novel fused into one. Familiar form, but new potential. It made me look at something that I take for granted completely differently. I love it when that happens.

Case of the Mondays?

Remember how I said I loved my job? Disclaimer: not always. Too much attitude in one day breaks my spirit. Especially on a crabby crappy Monday. One of those days when I feel like a pin cushion from all the sharp things that prick me.

Why do people think they don't need to hold up their end of the bargain, yet still demand what they want?! And why do I feel so hurt by their potent insensitivity? I have decided that people from afluent origins often have a sophisticated understanding of their own power. Children and adults alike around here. They can afford more, so they expect more. And the thing is... I think they get more, regardless of price.

I'm trying to learn from it instead of just getting bitter. Why not ask for what I want, whether I think I deserve it or not?! Maybe I'd get more, too. But what would I leave in my wake?

Although, I may need to take more responsibility for my own feelings today. I did try to relive my youth this weekend, complete with a few minor self-destructive decisions. Then I dove right back into my current life. Maybe people are just being people (as they always will be), and I just need more sleep in order to not lose myself in the shuffle.

Ride Your Bike to Portland

My next "Life List" item is a go. Last summer was the summer of the triathlon, something I had always wanted to do but never thought I could. This summer it is STP! I blame Laura for setting the standard back when we were 14. Finally it's my turn. I signed up for Team in Training, so there's no backin' out now!

STP is one of those things that I keep thinking will happen for me someday. As if life is something that just happens to me. A few years ago I was waiting for another (much more acheivable) event to happen - seeing Dave Matthews at the Gorge - when in a rare moment of clarity, I asked a friend to go, bought tickets online, and voila - dream achieved. And when Dave spontaneously broke into Blackbird the next year, I had one of those rare moments when there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be.

After that, I looked at these vague ideas of "things I've always wanted to do" little differently, and I started to pull some of them out of idea state into list form:

• See DMB at the Gorge (check)
• Swim across the bay at our cabin (note: Boy Scout Camp on the other side might have something to do with that childhood dream, but check)
• Sew a quilt (with a little help from Mom, but check)
• Knit a sweater (3yr old size, but check)
• Build a bookcase (a garage and one Spring Break later, check)
• Visit Santa Fe (check)
• Triathlon (check, check, and check - warning: some items may become habit forming)
• STP (workin' on it)
• Learn Spanish
• Make gnocci from scratch
• Paint a still life of an eggplant
• Learn to weld
• Fly fish in Montana, hike in Utah Nat'l Parks, surf in Costa Rica, drink wine in Italy... (and a good list of other destination specific adventures)
• Learn to play Blackbird on the guitar (I've always said I could die happy if I could do this, and I'm thinking I should work on it just in case...)

I have a few other dreams that are a little loftier and involved, but it turns out there are many things I want out of life that may actually be achievable. Experiences that I want to become part of who I am. To broaden my experience of myself and the world. And not to be so held back by fear. To get into life and be more of myself.

There is so much we do not have control over in life. But what if we could maximize that which we do have some control over? Who could we be? What could we achieve? (Although, you'd think I'd have gotten to the gnocci by now.)

Next summer? Perhaps Mt Rainier. Because it's just sittin' there waiting. And maybe because my dad always told me it was a giant scoop of ice cream...