The three of us in Old Rome. Which, I must say is amazing. The fact that they conquered Rome and then just left the ruins and built new things next to them instead of on top of them is so fortunate, because now we can see a little bit of what it was like more than 2,000 years ago.  

Dustin, Jodi, Rome and a faint rainbow. (Yes, we absolutely made the most of this photo op.) 

Neil, Jodi, Rome and the rainbow. 

After at least eight hours of walking and climbing to the top of the Cupola and riding overcrowded Roman buses and staying relatively dry during rain showers, we found Old Rome and a rainbow appeared. 

This is an ancient Roman foot. The rest of the statue has long been missing and now this foot sits in an alley in Rome where cars and motorcycles park practically on top of it. Only a city as steeped in history as Rome could leave something as old and historic unattended like this. If we had this foot in the U.S. it would surely be in a museum, or protected by glass... or at least there'd be a plaque nearby to let people know, "Hey, there's an ancient Roman foot right here." We learned about the foot from a travel book. 

This is St. Pius X. I believe that his mumified body is right there in the photo. The sheer number of dead people inside of Italy's churches (and underneath them) is something that escaped me on my first visit to the country. 

Graffiti at the top of St. Peter's Basilica. This just seems so wrong. 

St. Peter's Square from the top of the Cupola. Last night, I saw all of the millions of people lined up to view the Pope's body and it seemed strange that only a week and a half ago, I had been looking down on the relatively empty square. 

Dustin and I inside the Cupola (dome) -- all the climbing in close quarters made us a little loopy. I realized that I have visited the headquarters/home of Catholicism twice, but I've never been to the temple in Jerusalem or the wailing wall. That might be something I should work on... 

Vatican City. On Easter Monday (a holiday in Italy) we waited in line for about three hours so we could climb more than 500 steps to the top of the dome on St. Peter's Basilica. This is a photo of me and Neil at the midpoint.  

A little town called Monteroso in Cinque Terre or, the five lands. Five little towns are connected by hiking trails along the northern Italian coast. Pesto was invented in this region and we ate what was probably our best meal here at a restaurant called Miky. This view is from our apartment. After learning that all of the hotels in town were booked the night we arrived, we went to the train station where the woman at the info desk called someone (her parents?) and arranged for us to rent a top-floor guest apartment with two bedrooms and a rooftop deck for only $25 euro each. It was a very lucky night. 

Dustin and me with our empty Bicerin glasses in front of us...From the cafe's website: "It's a place where the art of tasting has made its mark in history." 

This is a famous coffee shop where they serve a drink called the Bicerin which is coffee, bittersweet chocolate and heavy cream and tastes AMAZING. The cafe has been open since 1763 and many famous intelectuals and artists used to frequent it including Cavour, Alexandre Dumas, Nietzsche and Giacomo Puccini.  

If you look closely, you can see the Olympic banner in Torino with the strangly creepy little mascots saying Ciao! 

A cool sign in Torino. 

On Friday, we took a tram up to the top of a hill in Torino where we saw this church. Italy's champion soccer team flew into the back of the church and the whole team died (I think this was in the 80s) so behind the church they have a memorial to the team. On a clear day, we would have seen Torino and the Alps from the hill, but on this day, we saw lots of clouds. 

One of the first photos I took in my dilerious sleepy state. For some reason, lots of the concrete posts in Torino are painted like cute penguins. 

Neil and I haven't slept yet. We left on Wednesday and arrived on Thursday morning. It's Thursday afternoon right now and we're on top of the Torino film museum looking out on foggy Torino. The museum is in a building originally designed to be a Jewish synagogue. Apparently, they ran out of money and it was empty for many years, but now it's an incredible film museum.  

This is how my little brother looked when he picked us up from the Torino airport on Thursday morning. 

Ciao!

While traveling in Italy, I read a rather remarkable book called Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. One of the entries in the book said that people aren't interested in hearing about my vacation and another one (I believe it was a different entry) said that people don't like to look at vacation pictures either. When I read this, I had been taking copious notes for my blog for several days already...but after thinking about it for a while, I realized that Amy Krouse Rosenthal might, indeed, be on to something. And so, because I gleaned that bit of insight from the book I read on vacation, I am going to try to relate a condensed version of my trip without boring anyone to death.

Day 1: We woke up way to early and stumbled our way out of bed to the airport and onto a plane to Chicago where we had a five-hour layover. Instead of rotting in O'Hare for five hours, Neil and I jumped on the El and headed into the Loop to meet Christine for lunch at Flat Top (all time favorite Chicago restaurant). On the El with my backpack, I felt like I was in college all over again heading back to Evanston after a (window) shopping trip at the Watertower. I could feel the rhythmic rattle of the train trying to lure me into that too-comfortable train sleep and I got a bit lost in the joy of the long lost familiarity of a city once lived in.

At one of the stops a middle-aged Asian man in a nice-looking felt pea coat got on and sat near us. He looked like a business man of some type and he had a strange little backpack with him that didn't go with the rest of his clothing and accessories. On the shiny vinyl backpack was a large rubber oval that said "ADVENTURE" on it in bright yellow all-caps italics. I thought about how companies/advertisers use these words that impact our emotions and I wondered if the man on the El bought the bag in hopes of becoming more adventurous, or if he just got it because it was cheap and he hadn't thought twice about the odd logo. I realize I was judging him on his looks on one particular Wednesday morning, but to me, he didn't look incredibly adventurous. He would have been better-suited to be carrying a nice leather briefcase, not the strangely cheesy ADVENTURE backpack.

When we got off the El, Christine was waiting to drive us to lunch where I got to eat some veggies and noodles with my favorite spicy lime basil sauce and we got to talk to Christine and catch up a bit. We probably could have talked for several more hours and still not done all of the catching up old friends can do after years of absence, but our flight to Brussels was waiting and Christine had a business meeting so we got back on the El and headed to O'Hare.

To be continued...

Bon Voyage

The day has arrived. Tomorrow morning, Neil and I are taking our yet-to-be-packed suitcases to the airport and heading to Italy. I do not feel at all ready for this grand adventure, but I'm excited nonetheless. I am sure that tonight, when I go to sleep, I will know that I'm prepared. But right now, I have an empty suitcase and no clue what clothes to bring or even what to wear on the airplane.

I'm so excited about visiting my long lost brother. And I'm thrilled to finally act on some of my wanderlust. Expect photos and thrilling posts upon my return at the beginning of April. But until then, unless I unexpectedly find myself in front of a computer in Italy, I will be a little bit quiet. Have a great couple of weeks!

Sick is Scary

Yesterday, Neil got sick. It started shortly after a trip to our bagel shop for lunch. He was nauseous and his whole body felt weak. We thought it was brought on by the fumes from cleaning stuff we were using to clean the bathroom at the time, but he kept feeling ill for the rest of the day. We went to sleep at 11 and he tossed and turned and at 2 he woke up and went into the kitchen where he got dizzy and light-headed and then puked. The point of this is not to describe Neil's illness as much as it is to point out that I was terrified by it. Neil is never sick, so I am sure that was part of it, but I also just got worried.

"What if he doesn't get better," I wondered. "What if he has a really bad kind of poisoning?"

When I'm sick, I don't think those thoughts about myself. I just think, "Must get better, must get better." It's that caring about someone else thing that got me last night. I wasn't sick, so I had enough time to worry about Neil.

We're pretty sure he got sick from the lox on the bagel... and luckily, he is feeling better (but not all better) today. When we woke up this morning and he was the right color again, I felt a huge wave of relief. It felt so good, that I didn't mind all the worry from the night before. I love being in love with someone so much that it feels wonderful when a worry about their well-being fades away. Not sure if I'm making a whole lot of sense here -- it's been a long day.

The Rudest Guy Ever

Tonight, like many other nights, Neil and I went to the gym after work. We both hopped on elliptical machines and started moving. I listened to my iPod and Neil was tuned into one of the televisions. Suddenly, even though my volume was up 2/3 of the way, I heard a very loud sound. It took a moment, but I tracked the noise to a man two machines over who was, I discovered, holding a cell phone to his ear and shouting into it.

"Tell me about your life, man!" he hollered. "I want to hear what's up with you!"

These were not statements that needed to be shouted, but they were being shouted nonetheless.
Right behind this fine specimen of a human was a sign that said something like, "Don't use your cell phone." (The sign was a bit more polite.)

At first, I thought that he might just be talking very briefly. I reasoned that I might take a really important call at the gym and set up a time for a later call back. I expected that, at any moment, my fellow gym member would say (a bit more softly), "Well, I'm at the gym so I've got to go, man." But the minutes ticked by and we were subjected to his shouting.

Cell phone man looked like a nice enough guy. He had dark hair that was a little spiky in front and those thick plastic glasses that have become increasingly cool among the 30-something set. He was wearing a normal white t-shirt and some striped workout pants. He had three days worth of stubble on his face, but it made him look rugged, like the kind of man you might meet at the mountain bike shop or the ski area. But his shoes were another story. He had white Nikes with a black swoosh and a big orange stripe that went right through the swoosh and looked spray painted on the shoe. I wondered if they were from an outlet or something and had to be marked with orange paint because he didn't pay full price? Or maybe these spray-painted shoes are cool now? I have no idea. He also had a very dated Sony armband walkman strapped to his left arm. There have been at least three generations of portable music players since that thing was made, so you know he's not the hippest guy around.

As the man continued to shout into his phone for 5...6...10 minutes, my dislike for him grew. I became a less mature version of myself as I turned to Neil and made an obnoxious gagging sign which I knew full well that Cell Phone Man could have seen reflected in the dark window in front of us if he weren't so self absorbed. Neil did an exaggerated thumbs down gesture and the two of us kept looking at Cell Phone Man and rolling our eyes.

Why I let Cell Phone Man bring out the worst in me, I'm not sure. It was just amazing to me that he somehow thought it was ok to have a 15 minute conversation on the precor at the gym while at least ten other people were in the room with him. It was even more amazing that he was able to shout that loud for that long while working out. The other day I was wondering what little annoyances I have coping strategies for. I suppose that when I am really annoyed by an inappropriate cell phone talker, I gag, roll my eyes and act like an adolescent. (all behaviors that are much cooler than shouting into your phone at the gym.)

Great Minds

The other day I told someone about moving to Washington D.C. next November and whoever it was said, "There are a lot of great minds in Washington D.C." And now I have this image in my head of a bunch of wise brains sitting around in cigar bars without their bodies. I realize this is completely bizarre, but that's the image I have. Instead of thinking of something obvious like the Washington Monument, or the Capitol building, I think of brains smoking cigars. Lovely. I wish I could remember who said that to me so I could properly thank them.

Letters

Last night I wrote six letters. Not e-mails, but handwritten letters. This is something I used to do all the time, but now I am out of practice. It seems that if I am not in front of a keyboard, I have trouble composing sentences. The pen in the hand just doesn't do it for me like it used to. I probably have about 20 journals that I wrote between 4th grate and the end of high school, but when I got to college, the writing by hand dropped off and I poured my heart out in e-mails to friends. Now, I have this blog and e-mails and everything I write for work is typed. I love technology, but it is a little bit sad that it's robbed me of the simplicity of pen and paper. I'm going to try to write letters more often in the hopes that I will be able to get that skill back.

Basketball

I am not the world's biggest sports fan. I like sports. Basketball is one of the few that I can actually watch on TV, but ask me to name teams and players and forget it. Since March Madness is beginning, I have been sucked into participating in two bracket competitions. One is for some money and I had to pay $10 to be a part of it, the other is at work and administered by my boss who plans to give the winner a day off! I love money, but I'm really hoping to win the day off. Perhaps my complete lack of statistical knowledge or season history will help me?

I wonder how many people across the country participate in this kind of gambling.

Taxes

Based on the results of this year's taxes, I should become a republican. (But don't worry, I'd have to be completely insane to do that.) Today, I feel like a grownup because I'm totally bummed about money. The biggest benefit of childhood is blissful ignorance about money in particular.

Snow Day

Well, after I posted those photos last night, it continued to snow and when I woke up this morning, the amount of snow on my lounge chair had doubled. (of course, I was in too much of a rush to photograph it this morning.) This snow would not be extraordinary if I lived in Santa Fe, or Chicago or someplace else, but here in Albuquerque, we don't get snow like this. Usually, there is a light dusting once or twice a year, but that's it. Snow does not accumulate on cars and trees and streets. It just flutters down and melts. But here we are in March and we have a full-fledged snow day.

All the schools and colleges and some of the courts in town are closed today. For about 10 minutes, I entertained the idea that my office might be closed too, but no such luck. So, here I am. I felt a little bit insane driving to work this morning because there were only about five other people on the road. It was bizarre. Then, despite the fact that I was only driving 30 miles an hour, I got to work 20 minutes early. Pleased with my earliness, I decided to go to Starbucks. Apparently everyone else decided to do the same thing and by the time I got my grande latte with 2% milk and my lowfat blueberry muffin, I was 5 minutes late to work. Sometimes I really excel at defeating myself.

While in line at Starbucks, I got to read the actual print edition of the New York Times. Right on the front page there was an article about how people have tactics they use to fight little annoyances. The first example in the article was about the complete lunacy of the sizes at Starbucks and a man who refuses to order a "Tall, Grande or Venti" and instead says small, medium and large. Another man gets so annoyed by the little subscription cards in magazines that he sends them all back blank so the magazine has to pay for postage. I am sure that I must have tactics like this... but, other than telling telemarketers that we're on the Do Not Call list and hanging up, I can't think of any. I will admit that I often entertain the idea of ordering a medium at Starbucks, but I am just not brave enough. It's so serious in there and people are so practiced at rattling off their drink orders and when I get to the front of the line, I just have to compete. "Grande percent latte, please."

Side rant: Someone who just flew in is in the front entry of the office right now and my co-workers are standing around complaining about air travel with her. I have two thoughts about this: 1) I had assumed the airport might be closed, but apparently it isn't 2) It totally sucks to be forced to make small talk with strangers in business situations.

The Board

I am going to be on a board of directors. That's right, just as we learned we're moving, I was asked to serve on a board of directors for the university's art museum and gallery. I wrestled with this. I couldn't say no and explain the move, because the woman who asked me to do it is a CEO of a credit union. And, I realized, that I actually want to do it. I love art, was looking for a way to get involved with the university and actually may have something to offer the group because of my PR skills. So, I am going to be on a board for seven months which really seems like SUCH a grown up thing to do. But I am positive that I'm not really grown up.

Perhaps one of the best photos to document the amount of snow that fell in less than three hours. I believe it's still coming down right now. 

On Saturday, it was 75 degrees and sunny here. I wore sandals. This is a photo of my backyard today at about 4:30 in the afternoon. 

It snowed today. It snowed soooo much. I left work an hour early and drove home at 20 mph in order to avoid crashing. When I got home, I took a picture of Wiley in the snow.  

Friday With Pollen

It's Friday and the sky is blue and I am wearing sandals and there is pollen everywhere which means that, while I may look cute in my spring shoes, my eyes are red and puffy. Urgh.

This morning, I got caught in a really bad traffic jam. It took me 30 minutes to get to work and usually takes 12. I realize that in larger cities, this might seem like nothing, but to me this morning, it was really annoying. It was one of those days when I woke up in the morning and thought, "I'm looking forward to going to work today." And then the world conspired against me to keep me from working. When I pulled into the parking lot after surviving the traffic jam, I noticed that one of my tires was completely flat and had a nail sticking out of it. Fun fun fun.

With help from a co-worker, I got the tire pumped up and drove to the tire place where they told me the wait would be 45 minutes to an hour and a half. Kind of a large window, so I called another co-worker to pick me up. All of this fun activity made it so I didn't get to work until about 10. Now I am at my desk and the sun outside is totally distracting. Maybe I'm not so excited about working today after all...

I had some deep and fascinating ideas for this post, but I am so annoyed by the day that I completely forgot what I was going to post.

I was looking at my free traffic report from sitemeter.com and I noticed that a ton of people are entering my site in the archives for May 2004. This is very strange. Since I don't pay for the traffic report, I can't find what search words are leading them there. Now I am wondering if I wrote something scandalous or really fascinating that month. I reread the posts and nothing seems out of the ordinary. Hmm. Maybe it's time to upgrade my traffic report...

I hope whoever reads this has a great weekend. I know I'm planning on it.

Hopping Mad

So, I am one of those people who saves all the receipts I get when I use my debit card and then takes them home and enters them in the checkbook in order to keep track of how much money I have. Today, in the midst of the "stupidest day ever" after I had been away from work for an hour and a half to pick up my car, I went to the ATM. I withdrew some money and then a bunch of buttons popped up on the touch-screen ATM. A quick glance revealed that the machine was asking me about my receipt, so I pushed a green "Yes" button only to realize that I had pressed, "Yes, Don't Print A Receipt" instead of the button below that said, "Yes, Print a Receipt". What moron programmer thought, "Hey, let's make two green yes buttons!" The level of stupidity in the world astounds me sometimes. From now on, I must remember that even the ATM may be trying to trick me.

This weekend, Neil and I are going skiing with my parents in Taos. Neil's never been skiing there and it is arguably one of the best ski areas in the world, so now that we know we're moving and this is our last winter here, we're going. I am a little nervous since it's been over a year since I've skied. Hopefully the spinning class has me in semi-good shape... I intend to kick all three of my skiing buddies' butts. (yes, I realize that this competitive spirit can be problematic...)

I'm in a text book!

That's right ladies and gentlemen...a silly newspaper article that I wrote about kickbikes back in 1998 (could that be right?) was chosen to be included in a textbook called "The Inquiring Reader". I found out that I was in the book by doing a search on Google for my name. What's funny is that the book was published in 2000 and I spent all of this time now knowing about my itty bitty bit of celebrity. (O.K. so the celebrity is only among the college-bound students who are forced to suffer through that text book, but still...)

When I found my name and the title of the article, "Kicking asphalt" listed in the table of contents of the book, at first I panicked. "What if I am in there as a bad example?" I wondered. So, last week, after knowing about the book for several months, I caved and paid the $50 to have it shipped to my house. Last night after work, the book was waiting for me on my porch. I opened the box with a bit of trepidation. It could have been my article used as a bad example, or it could have been someone else with my name's article... but, nope. It was my article with vocabulary words in it highlighted and a page and a half of questions about the article. I am even in the index!

This is the second book I know of that I am in. The first, I do not yet own, but it remains on my Amazon wish list. I think I am in the endnotes only, because an article I wrote in El Paso was cited.

Someday, when I have my own books published, I will not be as excited about these obscure references to me in other people's books. But for the moment, I'm thrilled.

Fondu

Last night I went to fondu for dinner with two women who I have recently become friends with. We were there for almost three hours and I had such a good time. They are funny and lots of fun and it was really refreshing to have lots of conversation with women that wasn't about work. Of course, as it always works out, just as we seem to be settling in to our life here and just as we are really making some good friends, we are moving. Yes, I still have about 8 months to enjoy these new friendships... but it's the whole knowing that we're moving thing that is still taking some getting used to. In any case, I am really happy to have some new friends.

Ahh Monday

So, it was a really good weekend! There was no relaxing to be had, but it was good.

Friday night we went out with our friends Ryan and Shay (very fun friends) and ate at a restaurant called Graze. Previously, I had walked by and looked at the menu and decided I didn't want to eat there, but I realize now that was a huge mistake. It's basically an upscale tapas place and the food was amazing. While it was also, rather amazingly expensive, I would really like to go back as soon as possible. Yumm.

Saturday, we worked off the food at our second spinning class. Last week was the first and both weeks kicked my butt while making me feel good about myself. I spent the rest of the day hanging out with my mom, which was nice. Then I went to dinner with Nancy and we saw Bride and Prejudice which rocked in so many ways. There's nothing like a romantic comedy in which people randomly burst into cheesy song. You have to know what you're getting yourself into, but this movie is a riot.

Sunday, my dad was in town and Neil and I took him to the zoo to look at the new Africa exhibit where we got to see the Red River Hog for the second time and between it's amazing ears and funny squealing sounds, it kept us laughing for a good five minutes. What an amazingly strange looking animal!

The afternoon was spent at a baby shower where I got to decorate tiny little t-shirts for Rebecca's soon-to-be-born baby. Then back to the house where I met up with the boys and went to dinner and the long-awaited Alison Krauss and Union Station concert which was even better than I thought it could be. If you have never heard Allison sing, get yourself to a CD store now, or go to iTunes and download something.

And now it is Monday and I am in a state of allergic haze. I have sneezed at least 75 times since waking up this morning. So, I have made myself an afternoon doctor's appointment to finally get some of the Allegra I need so badly. There's something magic in the way Monday can provide aggravation and disappointment. So long good weekend...

Suicide

I would like to say that I, unequivocally, hate suicide. My co-worker's nephew committed suicide today or last night? And she got the news on the telephone this morning. And now she is filled with pain and worry. Worry about her brother and sister-in-law and how they will get over losing a child. Pain for her own loss. I know this because she said so, and because, I have been in a similar position on a couple of occasions.

Now I want to clarify, I don't hate the people who commit suicide, or try to, but I do hate it that they somehow end up in that dark place and that despite people loving them very much, nobody can draw them back out. I hate that people have to feel so much pain and to end the pain they have to cause so much pain for others.

And I wish I could heal my friend. And everyone else who needs the kind of healing that suicide makes necessary. Better yet, I wish there was a pain removal system that left the person who was feeling suicidal completely happy and ready for a long long life. But there is no such invention and I can't really heal anybody. I can just give hugs and watch. And I don't know if being a witness to pain and grieving is a good thing. Does it help? Just being there?

My friend came into work this morning feeling sad and she hadn't even gotten the news yet. She was shaken up by a near miss car accident this morning and she was worried about an unhappy family member, but mostly, she just knew it was not going to be a good day. I think we sometimes have these premonitions. We know things are wrong before knowing what they are. Other times tragedy catches us completely off-guard. But more often than not, in my life, I have felt people slipping away from me.

I heard someone recently say that, "every day we get away with our lives." I don't love looking at life that way, but I believe it is true. Each day, we go about living our lives and we are always avoiding death, escaping it for one more day. Until we don't want to or can't escape any longer.

And in a sense, we also get away with our loved one's lives every day. Every day the people we love go on living, we are lucky. And when we do lose someone, it is our job, really, to honor them, by the way we live our lives from that day on.

I hate suicide.

It's March: Marriage, TV on Mute, Moving and other Musings

Last night at the gym, I watched "Fox News at 9" without the sound. Actually, I had sound, but it was coming from my iPod and consisted of Lyle Lovett, Ben Harper, Fiona Apple and Allison Krause (you've gotta love the random function). Anyways, normally when I watch the news, in spite of myself, I tend to become completely captivated by all crime stories. If someone was shot in the South Valley over a drug deal, I need to know about it. When Neil tries to change the channel while I am learning about school children spotting a body from the school bus, I freak out. I am not proud of this. And I really can't even explain it. But last night, watching the news on mute, I realized how terrible it is. Every 30 seconds another map of New Mexico would show up on the screen with an arrow to the town they were talking about and then there would be a mug shot, an image of a bad traffic accident, or a house with crime tape around it. Basically, what I learned from the news last night was that a) bad things happened all over the state yesterday, b) someone drew sketches of Michael Jackson in court yesterday and c) a bunch of Rottweilers are in a big enclosed field someplace out in the country and they are either going to get to stay there or they are going to be euthanized for being "dangerous dogs" (this is the one part in the newscast where I could have benefited from sound.)

I don't really have any conclusions to draw from these observations, except that I need to lessen my obsession with crime and that lots of times local news is kinda lame. (But not when Neil is on.)

So, as of Tuesday, Neil and I have been married for 2 and a half years. It's so funny, because it really doesn't feel that way at all. I still feel like our wedding was only a few months ago. I think that is a good sign. We celebrated the 2.5 anniversary by going to the gym. Doesn't sound exciting, but it was just right. :)

We're going to Italy in about 2 and a half weeks and I am not quite ready for the trip. I bought some train tickets online for while we're there and the credit card company called me with a fraud alert. So I am relieved that happened while we were still here and I could clear it up. Frozen credit cards while out of the country are bad news. In spite of not being ready for the trip, I am really really excited to see my little brother. It's been an extremely long time -- half a year -- without any Dustin time.

And in other news, it is looking like Neil, the dogs, the bunny and I will be making a cross-country move at the end of this year. Yes, that's right, instead of moving to Canada, as I was tempted to do after the election, we're going to plop ourselves down in the thick of it and take up residence in the nation's capitol. (Please don't tell anyone I work with.) Knowing that we are most likely going to do this so far in advance is good and bad. I can't tell my work that I am moving in November when that's a whole 8 months away, but at the same time, how long can I keep it from them without being dishonest? And when do I start looking for a new job? Ahh... there are so many challenges to tackle between now and then, but in spite of it, I am really excited about taking this new adventure. I went to a meeting recently and the speaker studies people who are passionate about their work and she said that one thing all of the passionate workers had in common is that they were risk takers. Neil and I are definitely going to fall into that category come November...

And now a rant. Have any of you seen those promos on Fox about the Stars Without Makeup show? Basically they flash a bunch of famous women with no makeup on, or who were just caught in an unflattering moment and then they say, "You know you love it" or something like that. Now, I'm sorry, but I don't love it. I hate it. And I can't imagine watching a whole 1-hour special about it. Shouldn't every woman be able to go out of the house not looking her best and not fear having her photo snapped and flashed on America's TV screens? And if they are going to scrutinize actresses like that, where are the bad pictures of all the actors? Because you know not every paparazzi shot of George Clooney was taken from a flattering angle. I like reading Us Weekly and learning the celebrity gossip just as much as the next girl, but even if I were famous, I would be a little sad if someone collected all of the unflattering photos of me they could and put them on TV. Yuck, Fox, Yuck.

My Dad Is Funny

My dad is a riot. Today, he introduced me to a new religion via a blog comment he left on an earlier post.

Our e-mails are as follows (Please note, these are the e-mails in their entirety.):

Dad: "I read your Blog and wrote a couple of comments."

Jodi: "Thanks for the comments... What is zorasterism??? -j"

Dad: "Some old funky religion. You can look it up. It's spelled Zoroastrianism I looked it up and it sounds like a good idea."

And so, I looked it up. The definition follows. I suppose that collecting good deeds to defeat an evil spirit is a good idea. Maybe there should be a Zoroastrianism revival? Perhaps, as my dad suggested, Paris Hilton will start the revival. But we'll probably have to wait another 20 years or so until she gets into her self-reflective 40's and turns to religion as a new method for self-promotion.

From Merriam-Webster:

Main Entry: Zo·ro·as·tri·an·ism Pronunciation: "zOr-&-'was-trE-&-"ni-z&m Function: noun : a Persian religion founded in the 6th century B.C. by the prophet Zoroaster, promulgated in the Avesta, and characterized by worship of a supreme god Ahura Mazda who requires good deeds for help in his cosmic struggle against the evil spirit Ahriman - Zo·ro·as·tri·an /-trE-&n/ adjective or noun

Tuesdays Can Feel Like Mondays

Today was Tuesday, but it really felt like Monday. It's probably because: a) I didn't have any coffee until lunch and I am, sadly, addicted to caffeine. b) Yesterday was a holiday and even though I went to work, it didn't feel like a real work day. c) I had a foggy head because of allergies. In any case, today was Tuesday but really had the markings of a classic Monday, the dogs getting out of their part of the house and wreaking havoc, my favorite pj pants ripping because they got too thin from all the times I have worn them, a bunch of excessively large bills arriving in the mail ...need I go on?

In other news.. I can't believe the whole Paris Hilton Cell Phone Scandal. More reasons to like her: She is soooo entertaining -- even when she's not trying to be. But really, what kind of crazy lunatic puts topless photos of herself on her cell camera??? I am done trying to defend her intelligence. She might just not have any.

I listened to a really amazing book this week. (yes, listened... not read) Neil checked it out from the library to keep him entertained while commuting to the legislature during the two-month session. He liked it, so I decided to listen to it. I seriously couldn't get out of my car when I got to work each morning. Finally I decided to take the CD's in the house and sit on the couch and listen. It was interesting to be just listening instead of staring at a TV or computer screen...Therapeutic maybe. Anyways, I recommend The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, it was so much better than I could have imagined after hearing people talk about is ad nauseam when I worked at Barnes and Noble in 2002.

I feel like, in my personal and creative life, I am finally getting back to a creative place and it feels so good. It's been a long winter. I realize it's not over yet, but the seasonal Dairy Queen has re-opened and that's a really good sign that things are changing.

Flames Go Out

I think it is immeasurably sad that so many artists, so many of the most talented people the world is blessed with die early because of recklessness, or take their own lives. Hunter S. Thompson wasn't young when he shot himself yesterday, but he wasn't old enough yet either. I, of course, have no idea of the circumstances of his personal life, but it makes me sad that the world has lost another great and talented person.

In other news, have you all heard about the PBS/Buster the Bunny controversy? If not, go to this awesome video blog and check out the video about it. Basically, the government is censoring a cuddly cartoon bunny because in one show he visited a family in Vermont with two moms. I am so incensed by this blatant homophobia and censorship. I wrote a letter to Margaret Spelling...it is posted on Ryanne's blog and below:

Dear Ms. Spelling,

I am a 26-year-old heterosexual woman who grew up watching shows on PBS. Public Television helped shape my view of the world and I intend to let my children (when I have children) watch the educational programming on PBS.

I saw several portions of the Buster show where Buster meets a family in Vermont that is headed by two women and I thought it was WONDERFUL. That is exactly the kind of programming I hope my children get to see. Because, while, I don't choose to have a family like theirs, I certainly want my children to understand that some people do. I hope to raise open-minded and well-informed children so that they will not grow up to hate or fear what they do not understand.

How can children in America remain well-informed and tolerant if people in the government, like yourself, begin to censor media based on individual likes and dislikes? Regardless of whether or not the current administration agrees with homosexuality, the reality is that there are more than 250,000 children in the United States today who are growing up in households with same-sex partners as parents. Should our society ostracize those children and their families because they are different? Since when has our country been about punishing difference?

We thrive because of our diversity and same-sex couples are a part of that diversity. Certainly you can't think that those 250,000 children of same-sex couples all deserve to be marginalized? You can't shove reality in the closet and only present the types of families that you personally approve of in children's television and literature. Our job as adults in this world is to show children what is out there and let them make up their own minds. Pulling funding for a show like Buster is a tragedy -- not for the show's creators, or for PBS, but for the nation's children and for the beautiful complexity and diversity that for so long, Americans have been proud of.

Sincerely

Allergies in February?

I can't stop sneezing. I mean really can not stop. Every three minutes, whatever I am doing is punctuated by a series of sneezes. Also, my eyes itch. This itchy sneezy state has me feeling totally exhausted. I am sure that sneezing expends more energy than, well, not sneezing... so maybe that's why? Ugh. What on earth could I be allergic to in the middle of a very rainy February? I thought rain kept all the allergens trapped in the dirt and so I should be less allergic when it's raining. Hmm. Am I allergic to work?

This has been one of those weeks where I've hardly accomplished anything. I have been working, but keep getting sidetracked by little things and don't get to do the big stuff that would make me feel good. The stuff I could cross off my list. During weeks like these, I often dream of a different life. The Rilke line I quoted on this blog a few months ago, "You must change your life," keeps echoing in my head this week. I overheard that conversation at the gym the other night and then today, I read a big article about this former dot.comer who now has a goat cheese factory and 80 goats in Northern New Mexico. While that is not my exact dream, a big part of me thinks that would rock.

I know this may sound like I am melancholy, but really, I love it when I start to think outside of my current situation. It feels so refreshing -- like the world opens up and I realize that while my current job is important and those lingering tasks need to get accomplished, there is so much more out there and so many things are more important. I think it's hugely necessary not to allow ourselves to become defined by our jobs and by our daily lives. Only sometimes I forget that I think that way.

Apparently, my blog readers do not share my secret admiration for Paris Hilton. I would like to say that I still think she is pretty, only I didn't mean to imply that I would want to look like her. I really wouldn't. I like my Jodi-ness. I would like to steal some and I mean some of her clothes. And I stand by my longing to be worry-free about money. It's not like I sit up nights thinking about Paris Hilton, however. It was just a little confession... I am jealous of the girl, even though she's an airhead. Oh, also, I will admit that initially, I didn't think she was pretty at all and it is highly likely that I now think she is because she's so overexposed and I have had to look at so many pictures of her. I am sometimes weak. What can I say?

The weekend is nearly beginning. It's 5:35 on Friday. I am so psyched to go home! Happy Weekend everyone!

Numbness, Walgreen's, Overheard Conversations and Paris Hilton

My left face is numb. I was going to say left lip or cheek, but really the strange heavy feeling extends to my nose and almost up to my eye. The reason for this numbness is that I had a cavity filled this morning... only my third cavity ever and the first that I actually had to be numbed for.

I have a great distaste for needles and so, I did my required freak out when I sat in the dentist's chair at 8:30, fresh from my shower and dressed in my "business dress" required at the office for a meeting taking place here today. I think I actually have little panic attacks when faced with being stuck with a needle. It's not pretty. My hands sweat, my toes twitch, I get all hot and sweaty and then cold and my breathing becomes irregular. At least twice I have passed out when confronted with a needle, so now I always warn people of this possibility. Anyways, it's true, the actual injection in my mouth didn't hurt very much and it made it so the drilling didn't' hurt at all, but that doesn't mean I'd like to go back for another one tomorrow -- or ever. Also, despite all logic, if I did have to get another shot in the mouth, I would probably still freak out in the same exact way I freaked out this morning, even though I know it doesn't hurt very much. Clearly this needle problem is a psychological disorder.

Last night at the gym, I overheard a snippet of conversation between songs on my iPod. A guy standing up said to a guy in yellow shorts on an exercise bike, "Do you ever think of doing something else?"

And the yellow shorts guy, with a pained expression on his face, said, "Oh heck yes!"

Then my iPod started playing a Liz Phair song that I haven't heard in at least six years. Even though I only heard two lines of their conversation, I am pretty sure that they were talking about careers and it got me thinking about how many people out there are doing things they don't really want to be doing. They just do it to make money. I bet that goes for the majority of people and that's hugely depressing. We think we're all advanced and civilized, but really, we created a society in which people can't survive without selling their souls to corporations and stuffing themselves into uncomfortable suits and skirts every day. (Yes, I realize that I may be overdramatizing this.) But the fact is, I would have answered that question the same way...

"Hey Jodi, have you ever thought of doing something else?"

"Heck yeah! I think about it every day."

Note to self: Start doing something else soon...

Last night after the gym, Neil and I decided to go to Walgreen's. I wanted mouthwash and those silly nose strips that girls in movies are always being embarrassed by, but actually do a nice job cleaning pores. Neil wanted candy, but ended up getting Gatorade. We got in line and the people two places ahead of us in line were using some coupon and buying the entire stock of some strange Easter candy bar. They had several boxes of the stuff and the cashier was scanning them one at a time and then all the systems crashed. We waited in line for about another 20 minutes only to be told we couldn't pay with debit and would have to produce cash. We, of course, didn't have cash, so Neil paid for his Gatorade and we left. Right before we lift this cute little pregnant girl, who couldn't have been older than 20, had to give up on buying milk and go home too. She was wearing pajamas, slippers and eye glitter and had a name tattooed to the back of her neck with some roses. Despite the fact that we were obviously very different, she seemed like someone I'd like to be friends with. I was behind her in line long enough to determine that.

When we got home, Neil and I both brushed our teeth and then looked for the mouthwash we had wanted to buy. Very strange.

And finally, a confession. I know I am supposed to be cool and intellectual and hate Paris Hilton because she's blonde and vapid, but actually, I am insanely jealous of the girl. First of all, she's incredibly beautiful and I can't stop looking at her. But then, she's just so lucky. I was reading an article in Jane Magazine where Paris said something like, "Last year was my best year ever as far as working goes! I hire people I trust so I have no idea how much I made, they handle it for me."

I am so jealous because I would love, for one day, to feel what it feels like to walk into a Louis Vuitton store, buy a $9,000 purse and not worry at all about where that would leave the balance of my checking account. I know that money is not the answer to life's problems, but I also know that I would have many fewer problems if money wasn't something I had to worry about. Lucky lucky Paris Hilton.

Cold Coffee

I just took a big swig of freezing cold over-creamed coffee (Folgers -- does that even count as coffee?) and I want to hurl. This is such a typical thing for a Monday morning that I am going to try to ignore it and move on with my life. Here goes...

So, it rained all day Saturday after raining most of Friday. Neil and I took a cue from the weather and slept until some obscene hour like 10:30. Then we got up and began to clean. OK. I started cleaning and Neil joined in reluctantly. We took occasional breaks, but really, we cleaned pretty much all day (you know, after sleeping the morning away) I guess that's what we get for being so lazy about housework since about November. Augh. Everything was such a big mess. But I feel immeasurably better now that I have a clean house to go home to. It's like I could take a deep breath again. Now, our house didn't look like one of those disgusting houses in the news or anything...In fact, some people would have probably said it looked clean. But I knew it wasn't clean and I was noticing the dirt on the floors and the clutter was getting totally out of control. So, long story short: I have a clean house and I am totally psyched to go home tonight and back in its clean-ness.

Yesterday, Neil and I went to the gym where I did my usual time on the Precor before playing racquetball with Neil. It had probably been at least a year since I'd played with him and even though I have not been playing at all, I think I improved. Neil and I determined that I currently play at about a D+ level and am approaching a C-... sounds underwhelming, I know, but it's very exciting to me. I have never excelled at racquet sports. Despite years of tennis lessons as a kid, I am still only sub-par. Strap me to a pair of skis or stick a ball in front of my feet and it's a different story, but little balls flying at me which I must hit with a racquet...let's just say that I have less luck in that department. Despite a lack of natural ability, I really like racquetball. It's so fun to smash that bouncy ball around the little white room. It's like entering your own little insane asylum and then hitting the crap out of it -- getting all your aggression out -- and leaving. O.K. I realize that is a strange analogy, but I think there may be something to it. Anyways, I am looking forward to more racquetball and more improvement. I'm aiming for a C+. Wish me luck.

And with that, I will be getting to work. High speed wireless internet should be functioning at my house by Friday!!!

Friday

It's Friday. This is good for so many reasons, chief among them, the fact that Neil and I have a reservation at the Melting Pot for chocolate fondu desert in honor of the upcoming Valentine's Day. Other reasons that it is good it's Friday include:

1.) Complete exhaustion from a long week can hopefully be remedied during two days of rest.
2.) Provided it doesn't get in the way of resting, perhaps our house can be rescued from it's state of serious disarray.
3.) Errands that have been put off all week can finally be run.
4.) I might get to see a movie.
5.) There is a new Desperate Housewives on this Sunday.
6.) And so on...

In other news, I have been thinking again. You know, thinking about the big stuff... life, goals, ambition, The Future. I'm not coming up with any conclusions, except for the fact that I'm ready for a new adventure. Maybe the trip to Italy to visit Dustin will help fill the adventure void momentarily... We'll see.

Absent

I've been quiet lately. No real reason. Maybe a combination of things, including, being really busy and being a little sad. Sometimes things go on in life that are too much of a bummer to write a blog post about. I guess that's what's been going on lately...

Last night I had a work event that I helped plan and the governor showed up. He had been on the front page of the paper that morning the headline was something like, "Report: Governor Will Run For President". When he arrived at the event, the band I hired played "Hail to the Chief" which was hilarious, but could have really pissed the governor off. Thank goodness it didn't.

The gov. gave a nice speech about my industry and the people I work with and then headed out. But not before meeting me and making some silly jokes at Neil's expense. He was nice and funny and much less bossy and uncivilized than I had heard he can be. I figure a few more friendly encounters and he'll be ready to hire me to help run his presidential campaign.

Fact: Despite all the rumors and accusations of bullying, if offered the chance to work for the governor of my home state, I would jump at it. Why? Because it would be good experience, a great change, probably higher pay than I receive right now, he's a democrat and usually stands for things I can get behind, and his bossy ways are part of politics. So, Mr. Governor, sign me up.

In the meantime, I am happily getting a good amount of praise for the success of last night's event. Whewh.

Neil and I are going to a fondu place for dessert on Friday night in celebration of Valentine's Day. I'm looking forward to that and to a quiet weekend during which I hope to get our house clean (at last), see Million Dollar Baby and relax until I am too bored to relax anymore.

Only two more days to go...

Three Cheers for Booing

The State of the Union last night made me want to vomit. The problem with George W. is that he has speech writers who help him sound smart and sound like you should agree with him, when, if you know anything about anything, you know that he's full of crap.

I couldn't believe that he mentioned his "Clear Skies" initiative and said how much it would help when there has been so much published about how it will actually weaken regulations protecting our environment. And I was really pissed when he had that nice Iraqi voter there to tug on my heart strings. I am glad she got to vote and that she has blue ink on her finger, but I do not think it was my country's job to make it so she could vote nor do I appreciate being manipulated like that.

I am so happy that the Democrats booed W. while he spoke about Social Security and his view that it is doomed for bankruptcy. (I have to admit that the booing took place during a 20-minute hiatus during which I turned the TV off in disgust until Neil came home and made me turn it on again.) I am sorry that I missed the booing...apparently it was the first time in modern history that such displeasure was expressed during a president's State of the Union address... normally, they all just clap like puppets until it's over.

I am really trying not to, but it's very very tempting to tune out politics all together right now. It's all so disheartening. I have to remember that it's important to know my enemy and I need to stay engaged, even if it seems hopeless...

Jell-O Pudding Pops

Oooh, it's February. Neil and I have been married for two years and five months as of yesterday. And today, that little groundhog popped out of his hole and saw his shadow. But perhaps most importantly, today is the day that I typed "Jell-O Pudding Pop" into Google and learned that my beloved popsicles are being made again!!!! In fact, I can buy them right here in my own city at any Albertson's.

This may seem trivial, insignificant and even ridiculous... but this is a BIG deal. My whole childhood, I got to eat a pudding pop every time I went to my grandma and grandpa's house. My grandpa would buy them two or three boxes at a time and their freezer was always full of them. I used to watch Bill Cosby on TV in his bad sweaters surrounded by little kids as he peddled the popsicles and I felt very cool, because I was in on the Jell-O Pudding Pop craze's gound floor. I had been eating them from the beginning.

In 1996, I went to college and my grandpa died that fall. I miss him all the time. A couple of years ago, I thought about Jell-O Pudding Pops. I don't know how I had forgotten about them, or when I ate my last one. Somehow they just disappeared from my life without me noticing. But when I remembered them, I went searching, thinking that eating one might bring my Grandpa back for a minute or two. No luck, they had gone out of production.

But, apparently, other people were craving a pudding pop too and they have been brought back! So, in honor of my grandpa, and my years-long craving, I am going to get to an Albertson's ASAP and get myself a box of frozen pudding-ey goodness.

The End of The Week

Some thoughts for the end of the week...

1) When the sun came out yesterday, the mountains were covered in snow and it was beautiful.

2) Every day on the way to work, I pass a field. It is right next to this 6-lane monstrosity of a road, but for some reason, cranes choose to hang out on the field all winter. This morning I saw a few silhouetted in the morning sun. They are completely graceful and unaware of the craziness surrounding them, the people racing down the road to get to their offices...those like me who are late, taping their fingers on the steering wheel. This morning, I decided that the cranes are a gift and a reminder that it's ok to slow down -- or something like that. In any case, this morning's cranes helped me take a deep breath and appreciate my life.

3) New music can often make me feel better than a new outfit or eating really good food...Even though I shouldn't have, I bought the new Ani Difranco CD yesterday. So far it's great. One song even gave me the chills. Unlike movies or books, songs and poems deliver the emotional payoff in a smaller package. So instead of waiting for an hour and a half for the kiss at the end of the romantic comedy, I can read a poem, or listen to a song and get to the emotional truth of it within minutes. There's something really simple about that -- like having a shot of culture/art/human experience... instead of having a beer.

4) There are so many things to be afraid of in life and I am working on limiting my fears. Wouldn't it be amazing if no one was limited by financial fears, for instance? I am realizing that I am really terrified of money and I don't like that about myself. I will see what can be done about it, short of winning the lottery.

Update

The sun came out.

Ahhhh....

Rainy Day

I really don't like rainy days. I think it's probably due to the fact that I grew up in a sunny climate ...or maybe it has something to do with genetics, since I know my dad doesn't like them either... but my mom loves rainy days...who knows? Whatever the reason, when I wake up to grey skies and drizzly weather, I always feel like I should just go back to bed. Most days like this, I make a big effort to rally. After all, I have things to do, a life to live, I can't let the lack of sunshine stop me in my tracks.

So, this morning, I crawled out of bed only about 8 minutes later than usual and I got ready for the day, despite the rain that was falling steadily on my roof. Having dogs has made rainy days even more complicated than they used to be. Barbie and Wiley are prissy. They don't like water to fall on their heads from the sky and refuse to go outside when it's raining. This presents a problem when they have to use the restroom... since, the restroom is outside. Neil and I have taken to following the dogs around the backyard with umbrellas when it's raining in order to prevent accidents on our carpet. Not fun. So this morning, we were both traipsing around the wet yard with Barbie and I (of course) stepped in poop. Soggy wet poop, thanks a lot rain. After cleaning my boot off, I left for work.

The dog debacle caused me to leave late. Then our neighborhood is blocked off because of construction and we're forced to take a detour out which adds about 8 minutes to the commute. I went through the detour and ended up in a mess of traffic. It normally takes me only 14 minutes to get to work from my house. Today, it took 56 minutes because people in New Mexico have no clue how to drive when the roads are wet. Oh the wonders of rain.

For lunch, I had to go home to let the dogs out... but despite my valiant efforts with the umbrella, they weren't having any of it and I had to put them back in their crate without a successful bathroom break. Now, I get to look forward to going home tonight to find pee on their crate blanket.

Now, I am back at my desk, it's almost 6 and wel past time to go home and I am so cranky! At least I am willing to own my crankiness. I just hope for my sake, and the sake of everyone around me, that tomorrow is sunny and dry.

That Sneezing Girl

Flashback to last night. At around 8:15, I met Neil at the gym. I spent 30 minutes on the Precor and another 10 with weights and then decided to call it a night. I kissed Neil goodbye (He was peddling fast on one of the bikes. We had been watching American Idol and laughing at the last girl, Mary Something? The one with all the voices in her head. Soooo funny.) Anyways, I threw on my Northwestern sweatshirt, grabbed my car keys and iPod and headed out of the locker room and toward the front entrance. I did manage to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way out and I marveled at the unevenness of my complexion and at how I really do look like I am about 12 years old when I have my hair in two pigtails. I was almost to the door and then I sneezed. It was one of those sneezes that make you jump a little and miss a step and this guy who was near the door laughed a little and said "Bless you!" I smiled, laughing at myself a little, and said "Thank you."

I suppose it was the smile? Because I really looked terrible. I had been sweating for 40 minutes, my skin was totally broken out and I had sloppy pig tails in my hair... But as I pushed the door open to the outside, the nice guy who said "Bless you" said to his friend, "There's that sneezing girl. She's really cute."

It took me a moment to process what was happening. But then it dawned on me... I was being hit on. I looked back and smiled, not wanting to be impolite, and then picked up my walking pace down the front steps of the gym and toward my car. The guy followed me and made some other comment about how cold it was and how I shouldn't sneeze... (He was clearly running out of material) I panicked and raced to my car, got in and drove away. I have no idea how old the guy was. He could have been 18... or 22? Maybe he was my age? Not a clue.

Interestingly, I had no idea what to do when he started hitting on me. I can't remember the last time a stranger did that to me. I was thinking that it was because I am older and married and so on... but now I think it might be because I don't put myself in situations where I could be hit on anymore. I rarely go to bars and if I do, I am with Neil. I mainly do things like go to the zoo and to dinner, almost always with Neil. When I am not with him, I go to the gym, the grocery store and work. Not prime locations for being hit on.

Anyway, because of my lack of recent being hit on experience, I totally freaked out and ran away from the guy. I do feel kind of bad about that. But what could I have said? “I am very flattered that you think I am cute, but I’m married.” At the time, running seemed to be the better option.

However, I did get in my car and smile to myself. No matter where you are in life, flattery always feels good. Like being complimented on a new outfit, or my curly hair, having a random guy at the gym think I am cute made me feel good. I know Neil thinks I am cute and that is a different kind of wonderful…that going through life, knowing every day that there is one person out there who thinks I am beautiful… But I am all about the occasional flattery from strangers too. So whoever that guy was last night…thanks for reminding me to feel good about myself -- even when I am a sweaty, sneezy mess.

I'm a Joiner But I Don't Think I Have a Secret Life

I'm late, I know, but last night (thanks to my friend Sean's diligent recording) I became a "Desperate Housewives" devotee. I am not sure how I managed to not see the show for so many weeks. Maybe it was because my birthday launched me into weeks of watching Angel DVDs instead of current TV? Who knows. In any case, I was such a fool not to be tuning in. This show is the perfect combination of trash and class and I can't get enough. Thank goodness there's good TV to provide an escape from everyday life.

Today, I read an article in the New York Times about how people are predisposed to having secret lives. I think you're more likely to have a secret life if you are plagued by mental anguish, but it's fairly normal. Not everyone has a secret life of drug addiction and prostitution, some just have secret credit card bills or take secret ballet lessons, but still, this secret life stuff is a little disturbing to me. Should I have one of these secret lives? Why are humans so compelled to keep things from each other? Is this a statement about marriage since most of these secrets really affect the spouse of the person more than anyone else?

The following quote is also interesting to me: "In a very deep sense, you don't have a self unless you have a secret, and we all have moments throughout our lives when we feel we're losing ourselves in our social group, or work or marriage, and it feels good to grab for a secret, or some subterfuge, to reassert our identity as somebody apart," said Dr. Daniel M. Wegner, a professor of psychology at Harvard.

OK. I am all for reasserting identity as somebody apart. That's why Neil and I don't do absolutely everything together. We do our own things, have our own lives, but not SECRET lives. I don't know if I like Dr. Wegner. What's up with him saying that unless I am keeping some secret from my loved ones, I don't have a self? Or am I keeping secrets? Is it possible that I have secrets that I don't even realize are secrets?

The characters on Desperate Housewives fit the secret life mold. I don't think there is one who is not concealing something. In that sense, I suppose we all keep certain things from certain people, but I am not yet convinced that we need secrets to define us, to make us feel whole, to give us a sense of self.

Note to self: Stop reading psychology articles in the New York Times.

What if...?

I have been thinking...If I just took a bunch of candy from the lame vending box that some clever entrepreneur installed in the kitchen at my office and I didn't pay for it, would the vending box man eventually take it away? I realize that this would be stealing, but I figure the man has it coming. He planted this box full of candy and salty goodness at my office, formerly a completely healthy place with only coffee and half and half. Now I am addicted to the late afternoon sugar rush and it's all his fault.

All my coworkers were less than thrilled about the box when it arrived, but now on refill days I see people sneak off to grab their favorites and stash them in their desk drawers until needed. We're all addicted. It's like crack, only it makes us fat and its legal.

Something must be done...

Goodbye 2004

Here we are.. another New Year's Eve. It doesn't feel like too long ago that I was reflecting on 2003. I have gotten to that point in my life where years are no longer a long, interminable series of seasons. In fact, they are now going by so quickly that they're running together. What happened this year?

We rang in the year with friends at our house and plentiful champagne. Neil learned how to do "the butt" that night under the expert tutelage of Topher and Chris. (O.K. that does seem like a long time ago.)

We visited Dustin in Chico and played lots of disc golf. We threw a party for my mom's 50th birthday. We adopted our dogs. Barbie got lost and found. Rachel and Brian got married. Jenn and Bill got married. Neil and I both turned 26. We went to Portland. Howard Dean screamed. I went to D.C. twice and Neil traveled to both political conventions. I won some awards at work. I got a laptop and an iPod. :) Dustin went to Italy. My family fell apart and began to be rebuilt.

I'm sure there's more...Janet Jackson had a wardrobe malfunction, the Red Sox won the World Series, people rioted at a Piston's and Pacer's game, Bush won the White House, Martha went to prison, Scott Peterson was convicted...More than 150,000 people died in the tsunamis.

Overall, I liked 2004. It was a year of great personal growth and some hardship, but -- as usual -- I am better for it.

In 2005, I hope to be stronger in all ways. I hope to be less prone to procrastination and less likely to give in to temptation.

Tonight we're headed out with Chris and Sarah for the 2nd annual Thai food dinner. Later, we're going to a wine bar with our new friends Brian and Kelly. And tomorrow, the slate will be blank again and the world will have another chance for a fresh start. I will definitely be taking advantage of that chance.

Happy 2005!

Tsunami

Last night at the gym I decided to watch the news instead of listening to my iPod and after only about two minutes, I found myself crying on the Precor. My thighs were burning in that pleasant way lets me know I am using my muscles, I was already slightly out of breath and then suddenly, I was crying. I don't know what triggered the tears, but somewhere between seeing tiny little dead bodies of children and sobbing, screaming parents, I lost it.

The thing about these giant killer waves is that we can't blame humans for them. They just happened. And because of where they were vacationing or where they lived, more than 80,000 people died in a few instants.

And then here I am in the desert southwest. I get to go meet friends for lunch and watch TV and go to the gym and walk my dogs like nothing is wrong. And nothing is... here. But why am I so privileged? A week ago, I would have been jealous of those tourists who were vacationing on the beach in far away places that I've always wanted to visit.

Entire countries have been nearly wiped out, swallowed up by the sea. And I want to help. I don't want to send money...mostly because I don't have it. I want to go in person and help with my own two hands... not sure how practical that is or what I would really have to offer, but when I see those pictures on TV, I just want to pitch in.

I am reminded of September 11th. Even though it was completely different circumstances and it was on a much smaller scale, I remember the waiting. I remember the pictures of the missing that were on every wall and fence and lamp post in New York City and I remember the hoping that the death count would be reduced, that people would be found alive.

That little Swedish boy who was found in the jungle in Thailand completely broke my heart. It is amazing that he was found and rescued and reunited by family, but his mom is still missing. Today he was reunited with his dad who said of the boy's rescuer: "She has saved his life, but also my soul because I couldn't survive if I lost them both."

It's little stories like these that trickle out of the disaster zones that make it all seem more real and more devastating. Of course, the media is doing an excellent job tugging at our hearts -- but even with all of the pictures they have been showing, I still can't make it seem real. I can't imagine those waves and the power and force they must have had. How did water kill all those people. Water, one of the most essential ingredients for human life...

It is all so tragic and baffling and perhaps most of all, it is humbling. We think that we control the world...humans. We fight wars and launch attacks. We build things and destroy things. We cultivate plants in our attempt to control nature. We study the earth and weather patterns. We modify DNA and practice selective breeding. It is easy to see why we are all fooled into thinking we're in charge. But really, we have no say when it comes to the big stuff. Nobody knew that earthquake was coming with it's minion waves. And even if someone did know, there was nothing we could do to stop it. (although warning the people lying on the beach would have been nice...)

Blog? What Blog?

So, for the last couple of weeks, I have been a very bad blogger. Basically, whenever I might have been blogging I was in the kitchen at work eating holiday sweets. That, or I was out socializing at holiday parties. I am slowly coming out of the sugar coma today (although I'm currently eating an orange chocolate cookie... don't want to go into withdrawal).

But seriously, I was swept away by the "season". Christmas was a little different this year. (Yes, I am Jewish, but we still have our holiday traditions... ) My dad is in Italy with my brother, so they were both conspicuously missing. I didn't see quite as many old friends as I am accustomed to seeing. It was absolutely freezing (below zero with the wind) and that made the annual Christmas Eve walk a little less enjoyable. But, the friends I did see were great and it felt good, as always, to be with them and laugh with them and remember old times and catch up on their lives. I also enjoyed time relaxing with my mom and Neil and my grandma and making an 8-hour fire in my parents' fireplace was a highlight...

Now I am back at work. No plans for New Years except watching some movies with Neil.

Advice: Avoid "The Life Aquatic". Maybe rent it on video if you're a big Bill Murray fan, but otherwise, I recommend seeing anything else.

Nothing Else Like It

To counter last week's post about how materialistic I am, I would like to say that there is little else in the world that feels better than helping other people. I have always known this, but sometimes it is good to be reminded of it.

Neil has a co-worker whose family just moved here and soon after the move, his wife had a massive medical emergency while on the way to visit her terminally ill father. She had to have major surgery and her husband had to take off work to help her. In the meantime the woman's father died. All of the combined expenses made it so that the family couldn't afford Christmas and they have four children! So, Neil, being the big-hearted person that he is, asked his co-worker to write out a list of gifts the kids wanted for Christmas. He did and we're going to help them celebrate Christmas.

This morning I sent an e-mail to my own co-workers about the situation and what we're trying to do and already four people have offered to help us. People's generosity is always so astounding. And it just feels really good to be doing something that will hopefully make a big difference to a family.

If everyone helped one friend or acquaintance once in a while, so many more people would have what they need. It will be a couple hundred dollars to us, but it means Christmas for the family and it feels really good to be able to help out.

You Must Change Your Life

What is it about the poet Rainer Maria Rilke that keeps captivating me recently? I keep stumbling across random lines of his poetry without their context and finding myself being moved by them. Really moved. For the last 24 hours, this last line of "Archaic Torso of Apollo" has been echoing in my head. I have actually read this poem before, but I was reminded of it yesterday while reading an essay be a fellow Bennington alum. (A very good essay, I might add.)

I don't think that my life needs a complete makeover, but I do think that it always needs to be changing. I should always strive to become a better version of myself, to be more complete, to be happier, to contribute more.

I must change my life.




Here's the poem:

Archaic Torso of Apollo

We do not know his unheard of head,
in which the seeing of his eyes ripened. But
his trunk still glows like a thousand candles,
in which his looking, only turned down slightly,

continues to shine. Otherwise the thrust of the
breast wouldn't blind you, and from the light twist
of the loins a smile wouldn't flow into
that center where the generative power thrived.

Otherwise this stone would stand half disfigured
under the transparent fall of the shoulders,
and wouldn't shimmer like the skin of a wild animal;

it wouldn't be breaking out, like a star, on
all its sides: for there is no place on this stone,
that does not see you. You must change your life.

Dick Clark

I almost forgot. I saw on the front page of today's paper that the worst has happened...Dick Clark had a stroke and had to ask Regis Philbin to fill in on "Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve 2005."

I have always said that things are right in the world because I can count on seeing Dick on TV each New Years Eve. He has literally been on TV for New Years my entire life.

This is either a really bad sign, or a good one... or maybe it isn't a sign at all, but I still think it's sad. I don't like it when traditions end.

Introspection

After staying home all day yesterday nursing a horrible headache (which felt like a little man was in my head trying to poke my eyes out from the back) I went back to work today.

It's always when I am not feeling quite myself that I become the most introspective. Not sure why this is... maybe because I have too much time to think when I am hiding my head under the covers to avoid the light and subsequent pain caused by it?

In any case, yesterday I was thinking about high school. Specifically, I was thinking about how I used to be kind of a bad ass. Maybe not everyone I knew at the time saw me that way, but that was how I saw myself. I was just the right mix of goody goody high school student and the skanky cigarette smoker you might find in the high school bathroom.

I liked boys who wore leather and had piercings and I preferred that these boys have bleached blonde hair. They needed to ride a skateboard, motorcycle or drive their car excessively fast. Most of these boys were smart, but just didn't act smart all the time. (A tricky distinction.)

I liked to leave my house and go hang out at places that felt dangerous. I probably didn't think of it that way at the time, but we had parties in the woods and parties at places where nobody over the age of 16 and a half was home. Then we all drove home in the middle of the night. I liked to go to concerts at this alternative performance space. To get in you had to walk through a fog of pot smoke and cigarettes. I liked it that I knew people at places like that. I had a boyfriend who used to sneak in my window at night. And even thought I didn’t like cigarettes, I liked it that I knew how to smoke them and I liked to show off my skills at parties.

I really liked breaking the rules and getting away with it. (But not rules that would hurt other people.)Perhaps it was that whole "invincible youth" thing I was feeling. I thought less about consequences and more about the moment. I wanted to have adventures, to feel music, to be free, to be loved, to always be with my friends.

Things are different now. It has been about nine years since I was suffering from senioritis and while I am still me, I am a lot different.

I am a tamer version of my former self. I think I am still striving for the same things, to have adventures, to feel music, to be free, to be loved, to always be with my friends. But I am not wild anymore and I'm wondering; was that slightly crazy girl in high school the imposter? Or am I?

Did I sell out because I got married and moved to a neighborhood with matching houses? Or because I took a job that's good -- but not my dream job. Or because I don't like to go out drinking and can't stand to be around smoke? I can't remember the last time I broke a rule or law (unless you count speeding, but I got caught and had to go to driving school). But maybe the biggest change is that I don't crave the danger that I used to -- at least not on that uncontrollable visceral level. Sometimes I think it would be fun, to go back out to the edge and feel that kind of alive that I used to feel, but I can always reason myself out of this.

What I really think is that this means I am older. I am not that bad ass anymore, but I'm sure it's still in me. Maybe you can only feel that intoxicated with your own youth for a short time -- there is a window of time during which you can take advantage of it. If that is the case, I am grateful that I saw the opening and seized it. Sure, I did some stupid things, we all did, but I lived to tell about it and I have those experiences to keep. Now, I get to discover new and better ways to be alive.

Work on Sunday

I am at work on Sunday.

Wireless Wonderfulness

My new laptop arrived on Monday. For at least a year, maybe two, I have been obsessing over owning a laptop. My wish list (which is an actual list written in a notebook) has had. "laptop, ipod (40G) and front-loading washing machine" on it for a long long time. Now I have two out of three! And really, if we are going to be moving in a year, it doesn't make a ton of sense to get a new washing machine yet.

Anyways, the laptop is awesome and wonderful. It's small and speedy and I already have all of my important files and programs on it. It can play and record CD's and DVD's. It has plenty of ports and hard drive storage and...it has wireless internet. We don't have wireless internet or high speed internet at our house, but somebody nearby does and I can choose between two networks when signing on to my computer at home.

I discovered this fact Monday night while installing software and transfering files. Yes, I realize that this is not a good thing to take advantage of. Whoever administrates those networks can see if I am on them and they can look at things on my computer and they could also get really mad. Oh, and there is probably something illegal about it too. So it's not a long-term solution, but it's awesome for the time being. It's the speediest internet access I've ever had in my own home. Now I am asking myself how on earth I went so long with only a dial-up connection. But I am taking steps to get back to my old cutting-edge self.

Now we need a flat-screen high-resolution TV, Tivo, some new stereo equipment that is hooked up to the TV, a Blackberry for Neil, perhaps some satellite radio...

As much fun as all of this stuff is, and as thrilled as I am to have a laptop and an iPod, I also find myself wishing I didn't always wind up wanting things the way I do. I am materialistic. I wish I weren't, but I don't really see how it is practical not to be. You can't live in this society and then denounce consumerism and commercialism. If I were living off the land in the mountains someplace, then of course I would not need the clothes from Banana Republic or the iPod, or even that washing machine. I also wouldn't need to be entertained. I wouldn't go to movies, I wouldn't be compelled to own DVD's and so on. But, I do live here and I want to enjoy myself. Maybe it's a balance....a balance between having these things and letting these things fulfill you emotionally and spiritually. While I do indulge in retail therapy on occasion, I don't confuse satisfying my materialistic whims with fulfilling my soul. So, at least I have that going for me.

I got this note from the Universe the other day and really liked it. Maybe now I understand why?

Simply put, Jodi, the reason there are things you want, that have not yet appeared in your life, is because you're just not used to thinking of yourself with them. Sorry, kind of wish it was more complicated. Just keep practicing.

Birthday

Today is Patty P.'s birthday and so, I dedicate this post to her.

Happy Birthday!

Hope everyone has a good weekend.

Better?

For unknown reasons, I seem to be feeling a bit better about life today. Perhaps it's because it's sunny outside and I went to the gym last night, and my new laptop was shipped today so it should arrive soon.

I think it's interesting that Tom Ridge is quitting. The New York Times said today that he will be best remembered for "playing with colors". That made me giggle. I don't really have any rancor for Mr. Ridge. I just think he's pretty lame. But, I have gained a tad of respect for him since he had the good sense to resign from the evil empire.

In sad news, tonight is the last night that Tom Brokaw will be on NBC Nightly News. I wonder what he will say at the end of the broadcast. He can't possibly say, "I'll see you back here tomorrow night." Will he say, "I'll see you later." or maybe "I won't be seeing you." I am going to have to do my best to watch...I really don't like it that he's retiring, but I am sure I'll get over it.

I'm off to drink some green tea. Someday soon I will have some good and interesting things to post about...