Quote of the Day
From Maureen Dowd's New York Times Op-Ed piece:
"President Bush is like one of the blissfully ignorant teenagers in "Friday the 13th'' movies, spouting slogans like "Freedom is on the march'' while Freddy Krueger is in the closet, ready to claw his skin off."
Happy Halloween!
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Alone
I have come to believe that most people go through life disguising their aloneness by surrounding themselves with family and friends and so on. However, despite the fact that I have family and friends and Neil, there are moments (like today, for instance) when all of that falls away and I am reminded that I really am alone .
It's hard to say exactly what makes one of these moments occur. Maybe it is in part because I live so far away from most of my friends and because I haven't seen Neil a lot lately and because I've never lived near my extended family and because my little brother is in Italy and my mom is working so much it takes her three days to return my phone calls and when she does she only has three minutes to talk and because my dad is really absorbed with his own crap and maybe not the best-equipped to help me cope with mine...
But anyways, I just realized a few minutes ago, for what was probably the 4 millionth time in my life, that I am really alone. Hopefully the illusion that I am not alone will rebuild itself soon, because this feeling is always terrifying...
I have come to believe that most people go through life disguising their aloneness by surrounding themselves with family and friends and so on. However, despite the fact that I have family and friends and Neil, there are moments (like today, for instance) when all of that falls away and I am reminded that I really am alone .
It's hard to say exactly what makes one of these moments occur. Maybe it is in part because I live so far away from most of my friends and because I haven't seen Neil a lot lately and because I've never lived near my extended family and because my little brother is in Italy and my mom is working so much it takes her three days to return my phone calls and when she does she only has three minutes to talk and because my dad is really absorbed with his own crap and maybe not the best-equipped to help me cope with mine...
But anyways, I just realized a few minutes ago, for what was probably the 4 millionth time in my life, that I am really alone. Hopefully the illusion that I am not alone will rebuild itself soon, because this feeling is always terrifying...
Monday, October 25, 2004
Hmm...
First of all, I tried to update last week to write about this awesome event I went to with Nancy on Wednesday night called First Fiction 2004. Basically five authors who recently published their first novels came to Albuquerque and read from their books at a bar downtown. It was very very cool and inspiring and it just felt good to be around a bunch of literary people for a bit...It made me long for the long days at Bennington and the faculty and student readings and endless literary discussions over every single meal. I had some more profound things to say about the whole experience last week, but then my entire post was deleted. So for now, that's all I've got.
So, today, I had to look up a teen author who submitted an article to me and then vanished. We want to publish it but need her photo and her address so we can pay her blah blah blah... After exhausting everything else, I decided to Google her and lo and behold, there she was. I found her blog and it had a different e-mail address on it and, gasp, a phone number. So, my problem may be solved. But then I began to wonder how easy it would be to find me. I typed in my first and last name and sure enough, the first link to me came up from a newspaper article about credit unions in which I was quoted but the second was this blog. Now, I thought I had done a good job of hiding the blog, or at least not attaching it to my whole name... apparently not. I got sloppy and put my name on the little copyright line at the bottom of the blog. (I changed it this afternoon to only show my initials, but might be stuck in Google's search engine for a long time to come). It's not like I am publishing nuclear secrets on here or anything, but I also like to maintain some degree of anonymity... so that someone looking me up can't type in my name in Google, stumble upon my blog and learn way more about me than I want them to know. Not sure what to do to resolve this dilemma. Can I contact Google and ask to be removed? When will their little monkeys come across my now name-free page again and update their files? Augh.
Meanwhile, Neil is out of town and has been since Saturday morning. It's lonely without him. I am really looking forward to some quality husband time sometime soon.
And finally a consumer warning, DO NOT sign up for alarm service with Protect America. They are an evil company with many tricks and traps in their contracts and with salesmen who lie to get business. Long long story, but take my word for it.
First of all, I tried to update last week to write about this awesome event I went to with Nancy on Wednesday night called First Fiction 2004. Basically five authors who recently published their first novels came to Albuquerque and read from their books at a bar downtown. It was very very cool and inspiring and it just felt good to be around a bunch of literary people for a bit...It made me long for the long days at Bennington and the faculty and student readings and endless literary discussions over every single meal. I had some more profound things to say about the whole experience last week, but then my entire post was deleted. So for now, that's all I've got.
So, today, I had to look up a teen author who submitted an article to me and then vanished. We want to publish it but need her photo and her address so we can pay her blah blah blah... After exhausting everything else, I decided to Google her and lo and behold, there she was. I found her blog and it had a different e-mail address on it and, gasp, a phone number. So, my problem may be solved. But then I began to wonder how easy it would be to find me. I typed in my first and last name and sure enough, the first link to me came up from a newspaper article about credit unions in which I was quoted but the second was this blog. Now, I thought I had done a good job of hiding the blog, or at least not attaching it to my whole name... apparently not. I got sloppy and put my name on the little copyright line at the bottom of the blog. (I changed it this afternoon to only show my initials, but might be stuck in Google's search engine for a long time to come). It's not like I am publishing nuclear secrets on here or anything, but I also like to maintain some degree of anonymity... so that someone looking me up can't type in my name in Google, stumble upon my blog and learn way more about me than I want them to know. Not sure what to do to resolve this dilemma. Can I contact Google and ask to be removed? When will their little monkeys come across my now name-free page again and update their files? Augh.
Meanwhile, Neil is out of town and has been since Saturday morning. It's lonely without him. I am really looking forward to some quality husband time sometime soon.
And finally a consumer warning, DO NOT sign up for alarm service with Protect America. They are an evil company with many tricks and traps in their contracts and with salesmen who lie to get business. Long long story, but take my word for it.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
The Countdown
Two weeks from right now, polls will be closing on the east coast and people here will be waiting in lines to vote and I imagine the country will be on pins and needles. The "experts" are saying that we may not know who won the presidential election until Nov. 3 or even later. Nov. 3 happens to be my birthday. For my sake and the sake of my country, I really hope the election has been decided by Wednesday morning two weeks from now. If Kerry wins, that will be an extra b-day present for me, but even if Bush wins, having an election that doesn't have to go through litigation and doesn't leave the country even more divided than it already is would be of infinite value to the United States and, I imagine it will make my birthday more pleasant.
However, if we still don't know who the next president will be on my 26th birthday, maybe there will be rioting? Maybe news crews from around the world will be camped outside the Bernalillo County Clerk's office. (The clerk declared last week that the absentee ballots, of which there are expected to be more than 75,000, may not be counted until late Nov. 3rd.)Maybe it will be declared a national holiday because everyone will need to stay home and flip between CNN and MSNBC (and FOX for those conservatives among us) to watch people look at hanging chads or to find out where the missing ballot boxes have gone. I certainly don't wish for any of the aforementioned chaos, however, I believe all of it is entirely possible. Bush and Kerry lawyers could end up brawling outside courthouses and in front of cameras. The candidates could be forced to seek shelter in underground bunkers. We really just have no idea what is in store. The newspapers are saying that polls show a tie and that spells disaster. Maybe we'll split into two nations?
What a headache. I am so glad it's almost over.
Two weeks from right now, polls will be closing on the east coast and people here will be waiting in lines to vote and I imagine the country will be on pins and needles. The "experts" are saying that we may not know who won the presidential election until Nov. 3 or even later. Nov. 3 happens to be my birthday. For my sake and the sake of my country, I really hope the election has been decided by Wednesday morning two weeks from now. If Kerry wins, that will be an extra b-day present for me, but even if Bush wins, having an election that doesn't have to go through litigation and doesn't leave the country even more divided than it already is would be of infinite value to the United States and, I imagine it will make my birthday more pleasant.
However, if we still don't know who the next president will be on my 26th birthday, maybe there will be rioting? Maybe news crews from around the world will be camped outside the Bernalillo County Clerk's office. (The clerk declared last week that the absentee ballots, of which there are expected to be more than 75,000, may not be counted until late Nov. 3rd.)Maybe it will be declared a national holiday because everyone will need to stay home and flip between CNN and MSNBC (and FOX for those conservatives among us) to watch people look at hanging chads or to find out where the missing ballot boxes have gone. I certainly don't wish for any of the aforementioned chaos, however, I believe all of it is entirely possible. Bush and Kerry lawyers could end up brawling outside courthouses and in front of cameras. The candidates could be forced to seek shelter in underground bunkers. We really just have no idea what is in store. The newspapers are saying that polls show a tie and that spells disaster. Maybe we'll split into two nations?
What a headache. I am so glad it's almost over.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Quick Bits
* In China they call the Milky Way the Silver River. I like that...it seems very magical and beautiful. I heard a man being interviewed on the radio about the planets and stars and he said that astronomy terms are always very understandable. Spots on the sun are called sun spots; places in the universe with no light are called black holes etc. He said this makes the science accessible to people in a way other areas of science are not. I thought that was interesting and true. But I still did miserably in my Earth as a Planet class in college.
* I heard this line today from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: "...be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now."
I am not prepared to intelligently write about the Rilke quote, but to say that I agree with it and it helped me gain a little perspective in the midst of a crazy week.
* We had fun with Neil's dad and sister last weekend. They liked the balloons and we enjoyed them even though we went two weekends in a row. Sunday we rode bikes to the zoo and saw a baby gorilla in a nursery with a diaper and a baby kangaroo in its mom's pouch. Very cool.
* I have been helping coordinate a visit from the U.S. Department of Treasury to one of our credit unions and then to a financial education program we help teach. The visit is tomorrow and I am petrified that it will be turned into a campaign speech for the administration. Why else would they be coming to this swing state at this time? My dad suggests I get up and interrupt if the speech by the Assistant Secretary begins to go awry. However, if I want to keep my job, that may not be a viable option. In the meantime, I am exhausted and behind on other work because I'm helping with all of this crazy Treasury stuff. Tomorrow, I report to work at 6:30 a.m. to drive to Santa Fe for the first event.
* Friday begins weekend 3 with house guests. Neil's mom rescheduled her visit for this coming weekend. Looking forward to seeing her, but if I don't get some down time to recharge soon, I don't know what will happen.
* The last presidential debate begins in a couple hours. I am having political nightmares already. I'm tempted to tune out the debate and watch a movie instead, but I'll probably watch because I want to be able to talk about it tomorrow. It's all so nerve-wracking...
* In China they call the Milky Way the Silver River. I like that...it seems very magical and beautiful. I heard a man being interviewed on the radio about the planets and stars and he said that astronomy terms are always very understandable. Spots on the sun are called sun spots; places in the universe with no light are called black holes etc. He said this makes the science accessible to people in a way other areas of science are not. I thought that was interesting and true. But I still did miserably in my Earth as a Planet class in college.
* I heard this line today from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: "...be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now."
I am not prepared to intelligently write about the Rilke quote, but to say that I agree with it and it helped me gain a little perspective in the midst of a crazy week.
* We had fun with Neil's dad and sister last weekend. They liked the balloons and we enjoyed them even though we went two weekends in a row. Sunday we rode bikes to the zoo and saw a baby gorilla in a nursery with a diaper and a baby kangaroo in its mom's pouch. Very cool.
* I have been helping coordinate a visit from the U.S. Department of Treasury to one of our credit unions and then to a financial education program we help teach. The visit is tomorrow and I am petrified that it will be turned into a campaign speech for the administration. Why else would they be coming to this swing state at this time? My dad suggests I get up and interrupt if the speech by the Assistant Secretary begins to go awry. However, if I want to keep my job, that may not be a viable option. In the meantime, I am exhausted and behind on other work because I'm helping with all of this crazy Treasury stuff. Tomorrow, I report to work at 6:30 a.m. to drive to Santa Fe for the first event.
* Friday begins weekend 3 with house guests. Neil's mom rescheduled her visit for this coming weekend. Looking forward to seeing her, but if I don't get some down time to recharge soon, I don't know what will happen.
* The last presidential debate begins in a couple hours. I am having political nightmares already. I'm tempted to tune out the debate and watch a movie instead, but I'll probably watch because I want to be able to talk about it tomorrow. It's all so nerve-wracking...
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Ahhhhh...
Perhaps the best thing about living where I do is that for a week in October, weather permitting, I get to drive to work every day and look up at the sky to see hundreds of hot air balloons. Despite the simplicity of it, there's really nothing like a sky full of brightly colored balloons.
This morning was a great one. I got to look at balloons the entire way to work... I probably risked crashing several times, but I managed to arrive at work unscathed and now, I am watching balloons float by my window. At any one time between 30 and 50 balloons are framed by the wall of windows in my office. A few minutes ago a big Yellow and red balloon landed in the field across from our office and we got to watch the chase crew arrive and help the pilots fold the giant balloon and pack it into a trailer on their SUV. Of course, not much work has been accomplished thus far, but soon, the air will get too warm, all the balloons will come down and it will be as if it were another normal day. I am just grateful for the momentary joy these balloons have brought me on an otherwise normal Wednesday.
My family has told me that in the fall of 1996, when my grandpa was being rushed in an ambulance to the heart hospital a few days before he died, the balloons were in the sky and he had a great time watching them out the back window of his ambulance. I like to think about that at this time of year when I miss him the most. And now that I live here and can witness this extraordinary event every fall, I always do it with my grandpa in mind. I'm watching the balloons for him too.
Perhaps the best thing about living where I do is that for a week in October, weather permitting, I get to drive to work every day and look up at the sky to see hundreds of hot air balloons. Despite the simplicity of it, there's really nothing like a sky full of brightly colored balloons.
This morning was a great one. I got to look at balloons the entire way to work... I probably risked crashing several times, but I managed to arrive at work unscathed and now, I am watching balloons float by my window. At any one time between 30 and 50 balloons are framed by the wall of windows in my office. A few minutes ago a big Yellow and red balloon landed in the field across from our office and we got to watch the chase crew arrive and help the pilots fold the giant balloon and pack it into a trailer on their SUV. Of course, not much work has been accomplished thus far, but soon, the air will get too warm, all the balloons will come down and it will be as if it were another normal day. I am just grateful for the momentary joy these balloons have brought me on an otherwise normal Wednesday.
My family has told me that in the fall of 1996, when my grandpa was being rushed in an ambulance to the heart hospital a few days before he died, the balloons were in the sky and he had a great time watching them out the back window of his ambulance. I like to think about that at this time of year when I miss him the most. And now that I live here and can witness this extraordinary event every fall, I always do it with my grandpa in mind. I'm watching the balloons for him too.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Balloons
This weekend began the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta and Neil, Scott and I were on Balloon Fiesta Field at 6:15 Saturday morning to see the more than 700 balloons take flight. It was perfect weather and the balloons were awesome. Scott was visiting from Chicago which was fun. We hadn't seen him since Jenn's wedding in Iowa and then we only got to see him a little.
So the weekend was nice, but I'm exhausted. We had a dinner party Friday night in Scott's honor... or something like that... and there were about 14 people over. Our dogs didn't know what to do with themselves. At first they were barking at everyone they saw, but then they started to enjoy all the attention. It was a good experiment in dog socialization... and it was nice to get friends together and laugh.
I am happy that John Kerry won the debate (and he so clearly did). I'm glad he went up in the polls and I hope this trend continues until Election Day.
It is less than a month until we know who will run the country for the next four years. AND it's less than a month until my birthday! Both, very important events...
More house guests arrive Thursday and we do another round of Balloon Fiesta. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm also looking forward to getting some sleep in between now and then.
This weekend began the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta and Neil, Scott and I were on Balloon Fiesta Field at 6:15 Saturday morning to see the more than 700 balloons take flight. It was perfect weather and the balloons were awesome. Scott was visiting from Chicago which was fun. We hadn't seen him since Jenn's wedding in Iowa and then we only got to see him a little.
So the weekend was nice, but I'm exhausted. We had a dinner party Friday night in Scott's honor... or something like that... and there were about 14 people over. Our dogs didn't know what to do with themselves. At first they were barking at everyone they saw, but then they started to enjoy all the attention. It was a good experiment in dog socialization... and it was nice to get friends together and laugh.
I am happy that John Kerry won the debate (and he so clearly did). I'm glad he went up in the polls and I hope this trend continues until Election Day.
It is less than a month until we know who will run the country for the next four years. AND it's less than a month until my birthday! Both, very important events...
More house guests arrive Thursday and we do another round of Balloon Fiesta. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm also looking forward to getting some sleep in between now and then.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
The Meaning of Music
I have always been moved by music. I realize that sounds cheesy, but it's true. Music and writing speak to me. I've heard many songs in my life that express exactly what I'm feeling at the time I'm hearing them. Usually these songs become my favorites. I buy the CD and play the song over and over again. I sing at top volume -- grateful that I can finally so artfully express my current state of being... even if I am borrowing someone else's artful expression...I suspect that this is not something unique to me...but that it's actually sort of a universal product of the human condition... we're always looking for things that speak to us, that say something about our experience. This is why the stories on This American Life are always so compelling...it's actually a requirement that any stories aired reflect something about the broader human condition, not just the author's funny story. Maybe this is also one reason why people obsess over actors and other celebrities... because said celebrities have somehow expressed something their fans only wish they could have expressed. Anyway, I digress.
Music.
This morning, I rediscovered Finoa Apple's "Paper Bag." This was the song from her second CD that I instantly fell in love with. It was 1999. I was in the middle of my senior year of college and while I was in love with Neil, I was close enough to the times of romantic despair (many involving Neil) and I was still figuring out who I was and what I was about and this song was so smart and... well...artfully expressed, that I was hooked.
"Hunger hurts and I want him so bad, oh it kills, cuz I know I'm a mess he don't want to clean up. I've got to fold cuz these hands are too shaky to hold. Hunger hurts, but starving works when it costs too much to love."
So, this morning, on my way to work, I put the CD in my car stereo and cranked the volume and sang Paper Bag, and even though I relate much less to Fiona Apple's particular dilemma at this point in my life than when I first heard the song, it was still awesome. I belted it out in my loudest i'm-alone-in-the-car-and-i-don't-care-how-i-sound voice and it felt great. Once you have been impacted by a song, it's sort of like a gift you get to keep with you for the rest of your life. When I'm 78, I imagine I'll still be able to put Paper Bag in the stereo and sing at top volume. The songs of my life are a part of me and pieced together, I think they might tell an interesting story.
I have always been moved by music. I realize that sounds cheesy, but it's true. Music and writing speak to me. I've heard many songs in my life that express exactly what I'm feeling at the time I'm hearing them. Usually these songs become my favorites. I buy the CD and play the song over and over again. I sing at top volume -- grateful that I can finally so artfully express my current state of being... even if I am borrowing someone else's artful expression...I suspect that this is not something unique to me...but that it's actually sort of a universal product of the human condition... we're always looking for things that speak to us, that say something about our experience. This is why the stories on This American Life are always so compelling...it's actually a requirement that any stories aired reflect something about the broader human condition, not just the author's funny story. Maybe this is also one reason why people obsess over actors and other celebrities... because said celebrities have somehow expressed something their fans only wish they could have expressed. Anyway, I digress.
Music.
This morning, I rediscovered Finoa Apple's "Paper Bag." This was the song from her second CD that I instantly fell in love with. It was 1999. I was in the middle of my senior year of college and while I was in love with Neil, I was close enough to the times of romantic despair (many involving Neil) and I was still figuring out who I was and what I was about and this song was so smart and... well...artfully expressed, that I was hooked.
"Hunger hurts and I want him so bad, oh it kills, cuz I know I'm a mess he don't want to clean up. I've got to fold cuz these hands are too shaky to hold. Hunger hurts, but starving works when it costs too much to love."
So, this morning, on my way to work, I put the CD in my car stereo and cranked the volume and sang Paper Bag, and even though I relate much less to Fiona Apple's particular dilemma at this point in my life than when I first heard the song, it was still awesome. I belted it out in my loudest i'm-alone-in-the-car-and-i-don't-care-how-i-sound voice and it felt great. Once you have been impacted by a song, it's sort of like a gift you get to keep with you for the rest of your life. When I'm 78, I imagine I'll still be able to put Paper Bag in the stereo and sing at top volume. The songs of my life are a part of me and pieced together, I think they might tell an interesting story.
Monday, September 27, 2004
The Joy of Fall and Being a Tourist in Washington
I have been walking around all day feeling very happy. Even thought it is Monday and I had to battle with and almost fire our printer and I am staring down the barrel of an incredibly hectic week, I have been feeling really happy and I think it's because it's fall. There's a crisp chill in the air and some leaves are turning yellow and Halloween and Thanksgiving are approaching and I couldn't be happier.
I love fall. Neil and I got to drink hot chocolate in our living room last night and not feel ridiculous. Had we done this a couple weeks earlier when it was still in the 80s outside, we would have been very silly.
Fall means being able to be cozy in my house while wearing pjs and slippers. Fall means the International Balloon Fiesta (which starts this weekend), and it means that we get to carve pumpkins soon and that I can take walks with co-workers at lunch without boiling alive and melting into the pavement.
D.C. last week didn't feel a bit like fall. It was in the 80's every day. Overall the trip was a success. We met with our legislators; they liked the umbrellas and seemed convinced of the virtues of our industry. I also got to do some touristy things this time, unlike my trip in June. I went to some of the monuments at night -- very cool. Shopped in Georgetown -- nothing amazing. Went out in Adams Morgan -- fun. Got into the Native American Museum which just opened last Tuesday -- incredibly cool. And, visited the panda bears at the National Zoo -- wonderful.
Much of the time I was serving as tour guide for some of the people on the trip. That was frustrating at times, but not terrible.
Observations:
1. Within about a three mile radius of the Capitol Building black suits are required. Some women accessorize said black suits with things like colored shirts or scarves, but even that could be frowned on.
2. The police are fond of shutting down roads willy-nilly. I realize this is probably because of the massive number of important people in Washington D.C. at any given time... but it's ridiculous.
3. Everybody in D.C. is interested in politics, including cab drivers who are too interested and try to shove politics down the throats of innocent passengers.
Could I live in the District sometime? I think I could. I don't know how long I'd last there, but it has a lot to offer and it could be a lot of fun.
I have been walking around all day feeling very happy. Even thought it is Monday and I had to battle with and almost fire our printer and I am staring down the barrel of an incredibly hectic week, I have been feeling really happy and I think it's because it's fall. There's a crisp chill in the air and some leaves are turning yellow and Halloween and Thanksgiving are approaching and I couldn't be happier.
I love fall. Neil and I got to drink hot chocolate in our living room last night and not feel ridiculous. Had we done this a couple weeks earlier when it was still in the 80s outside, we would have been very silly.
Fall means being able to be cozy in my house while wearing pjs and slippers. Fall means the International Balloon Fiesta (which starts this weekend), and it means that we get to carve pumpkins soon and that I can take walks with co-workers at lunch without boiling alive and melting into the pavement.
D.C. last week didn't feel a bit like fall. It was in the 80's every day. Overall the trip was a success. We met with our legislators; they liked the umbrellas and seemed convinced of the virtues of our industry. I also got to do some touristy things this time, unlike my trip in June. I went to some of the monuments at night -- very cool. Shopped in Georgetown -- nothing amazing. Went out in Adams Morgan -- fun. Got into the Native American Museum which just opened last Tuesday -- incredibly cool. And, visited the panda bears at the National Zoo -- wonderful.
Much of the time I was serving as tour guide for some of the people on the trip. That was frustrating at times, but not terrible.
Observations:
1. Within about a three mile radius of the Capitol Building black suits are required. Some women accessorize said black suits with things like colored shirts or scarves, but even that could be frowned on.
2. The police are fond of shutting down roads willy-nilly. I realize this is probably because of the massive number of important people in Washington D.C. at any given time... but it's ridiculous.
3. Everybody in D.C. is interested in politics, including cab drivers who are too interested and try to shove politics down the throats of innocent passengers.
Could I live in the District sometime? I think I could. I don't know how long I'd last there, but it has a lot to offer and it could be a lot of fun.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Apples, Honey and Heading to The District
Yesterday was Rosh Hashanah -- the Jewish new year. We are now in the year 5765 (I'm pretty sure about that). So, in honor of this day, I spent three and a half hours in temple yesterday. When I was little I used to hate the high holidays. They were the only two days of the year that I was guaranteed to have my little but in a pew at synagogue and be dressed up (usually in uncomfortable tights) and suffer. To me, those few hours were excruciating. But for the last few years, it really hasn't been so bad. It's actually nice to celebrate the new year. And since we're living in New Mexico, I get to go to the same temple I went to as a kid and it feels like home in a strange way...even if I didn't really enjoy my time there growing up. For the next ten days I am supposed to think very hard about the things I did wrong last year and I'm supposed to act like a model citizen so that I get written into the book of life for this coming year. Pretty heavy stuff...
A Rosh Hashanah tradition is eating apples dipped in honey to symbolize a sweet new year. Last night after dinner, my mom, dad, grandma and Neil and I sat around in my parents' living room and ate apples and honey. They were so good...and I couldn't figure out if they were actually amazing apples with amazing honey or if part of the reason they tasted so good was the company I was with and the tradition we were keeping.
On Monday, I am headed for the District. (I think this name for Washington D.C. is really amusing and have been overusing it lately) I sent my 25 umbrellas off with UPS a couple days ago and now have to figure out how to squeeze about 10 glorified tote bags in my suitcase. Ah the joys of planning an event. Today I have been fielding "What do I wear" calls. Hopefully, I will not get arrested for my weapon-like umbrellas, nor will I be eaten alive by any of the trip participants and I will return home alive and well Thursday night.
New Music Alert: The Postal Service's album Give Up is awesome. (Please note, the first track is titled "The District Sleeps Alone" and District is, in fact, referring to Washington D.C.)
Yesterday was Rosh Hashanah -- the Jewish new year. We are now in the year 5765 (I'm pretty sure about that). So, in honor of this day, I spent three and a half hours in temple yesterday. When I was little I used to hate the high holidays. They were the only two days of the year that I was guaranteed to have my little but in a pew at synagogue and be dressed up (usually in uncomfortable tights) and suffer. To me, those few hours were excruciating. But for the last few years, it really hasn't been so bad. It's actually nice to celebrate the new year. And since we're living in New Mexico, I get to go to the same temple I went to as a kid and it feels like home in a strange way...even if I didn't really enjoy my time there growing up. For the next ten days I am supposed to think very hard about the things I did wrong last year and I'm supposed to act like a model citizen so that I get written into the book of life for this coming year. Pretty heavy stuff...
A Rosh Hashanah tradition is eating apples dipped in honey to symbolize a sweet new year. Last night after dinner, my mom, dad, grandma and Neil and I sat around in my parents' living room and ate apples and honey. They were so good...and I couldn't figure out if they were actually amazing apples with amazing honey or if part of the reason they tasted so good was the company I was with and the tradition we were keeping.
On Monday, I am headed for the District. (I think this name for Washington D.C. is really amusing and have been overusing it lately) I sent my 25 umbrellas off with UPS a couple days ago and now have to figure out how to squeeze about 10 glorified tote bags in my suitcase. Ah the joys of planning an event. Today I have been fielding "What do I wear" calls. Hopefully, I will not get arrested for my weapon-like umbrellas, nor will I be eaten alive by any of the trip participants and I will return home alive and well Thursday night.
New Music Alert: The Postal Service's album Give Up is awesome. (Please note, the first track is titled "The District Sleeps Alone" and District is, in fact, referring to Washington D.C.)
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Umbrellas and Poor Planning
Next week I am going to Washington D.C. for the national Hike the Hill for credit unions. Fifteen people from New Mexico will be with our group and thousands of others from around the country will descend on the District as well. Our little group will be visiting our five legislators. (Other states have to make 15 or 20 visits and we only make five – yay for living in an under-populated state.)
As part of our visit to their offices, where we explain to them or their staffers how credit unions are different from banks and why we have a not-for-profit structure and deserve the tax-exempt status we are granted at the state and federal level, we always bring a gift. In June, we had little backpacks with pens and playing cards inside. This time, I decided to go all-out and order umbrellas with my company's new name and logo printed on them. Credit unions have been referred to as financial umbrellas for our members (shielding members from the financial storms of life – no, I am not kidding… that’s a bit too good to make up) so I thought it was clever idea. I looked through countless catalogues of promotional items and settled on some big heavy-duty umbrellas. They're not quite as large as golf umbrellas, but they're also far from the little cheap fold-up umbrellas.
So, I have had this large box of umbrellas in my office for a few weeks now and it only just dawned on me that we might not even be able to get them through security at the congressional office buildings. Each umbrella has a long metal point on top and they could easily double as weapons. Not only might they be banned by security, but I also have to carry them around the city with me. (Please note that we are giving two umbrellas to each office.) Some of the days we have meetings with two different legislative offices with lunch in between and a meeting beforehand. That means I could be carrying four large umbrellas from 8 a.m. until I drop the last one off at 3p.m. And I could be dropping it off in the trash can at the security station instead of in the arms of a New Mexico lawmaker...
Way to go Jodi... My bright idea has turned into a potential nightmare... not to mention the fact that I have to get these things on the airplane with me... Oh the joys of post-9/11 life (and poor planning).
Next week I am going to Washington D.C. for the national Hike the Hill for credit unions. Fifteen people from New Mexico will be with our group and thousands of others from around the country will descend on the District as well. Our little group will be visiting our five legislators. (Other states have to make 15 or 20 visits and we only make five – yay for living in an under-populated state.)
As part of our visit to their offices, where we explain to them or their staffers how credit unions are different from banks and why we have a not-for-profit structure and deserve the tax-exempt status we are granted at the state and federal level, we always bring a gift. In June, we had little backpacks with pens and playing cards inside. This time, I decided to go all-out and order umbrellas with my company's new name and logo printed on them. Credit unions have been referred to as financial umbrellas for our members (shielding members from the financial storms of life – no, I am not kidding… that’s a bit too good to make up) so I thought it was clever idea. I looked through countless catalogues of promotional items and settled on some big heavy-duty umbrellas. They're not quite as large as golf umbrellas, but they're also far from the little cheap fold-up umbrellas.
So, I have had this large box of umbrellas in my office for a few weeks now and it only just dawned on me that we might not even be able to get them through security at the congressional office buildings. Each umbrella has a long metal point on top and they could easily double as weapons. Not only might they be banned by security, but I also have to carry them around the city with me. (Please note that we are giving two umbrellas to each office.) Some of the days we have meetings with two different legislative offices with lunch in between and a meeting beforehand. That means I could be carrying four large umbrellas from 8 a.m. until I drop the last one off at 3p.m. And I could be dropping it off in the trash can at the security station instead of in the arms of a New Mexico lawmaker...
Way to go Jodi... My bright idea has turned into a potential nightmare... not to mention the fact that I have to get these things on the airplane with me... Oh the joys of post-9/11 life (and poor planning).
Monday, September 13, 2004
Old Man Gloom
This year was the 80th anniversary of the burning of Zozobra, a large puppet (60 feet tall, I believe) that is supposed to carry away all the gloom from the previous year as it goes up in flames. Every year, the Kiwanis Club in Santa Fe coordinates the event, builds the paper puppet and then sets him on fire on a hill above a large park. Over the years, the display has become more and more elaborate with increasingly sophisticated fireworks and other pyrotechnics. There are little kids dressed in sheets that dance around before the fires are lit and are supposed to represent the gloom that's about to be torched... then there are various dancers including one dressed in red (the fire dancer) who comes out and symbolically sets Zozobra on fire. While all the dancing is taking place, the puppet moans and groans and flails his arms around and the crowd chants, "Burn him! Burn him!" "Que Viva La Fiesta!" "Que Viva" and other less friendly things like "Burn the Motherfucker". When I was in high school, my friends and I used to yell, "Burn the puppet!" to be funny. Looking back, it really doesn't seem that funny at all...
After all the chanting and dancing, fireworks go off and Zozobra starts on fire.
I realize that this all probably sounds a little bizarre... but growing up with it as part of my tradition, I didn't realize how strange it was. In fact, it didn't seem strange at all. When I was little, my family would have a picnic on the field before dark and then hang around to watch the burning. Then in high school I went every year. When college came along, I also went every year because my school didn't start until a week or two after Zozobra. A small group of friends was usually still in town and we'd get together and go watch. But before last Thursday, I hadn't been to Zozobra in a long time. I'm pretty sure that the last time I watched Old Man Gloom burn, I was with my friend Carl who was battling a cancerous tumor in his brain and, at that point, winning. That was the last time I really got to hang out with him. I saw him briefly that winter over Christmas and then, in the spring, he died. But that year at Zozobra, we were all so alive as we watched our glooms go up in smoke and I drove him home and a group of friends talked and played music and everything was right in the world.
This year -- which I believe is five years after the Zozobra I attended with Carl -- was Neil's inaugural trip to Zozobra. It was very exciting...perhaps more so for me than Neil since I'd been wanting to drag him to the crazy pagan ritual for years. I think he had fun...Other than a fight breaking out in the crowd near us (the police broke it up right away) and Neil saying at one point, "I don't know how you grew up here," (this comment might have been fueled by the abundance of scantily-clad girls and gangster-looking guys on the field with us) he seemed to enjoy it. I enjoyed it too...at one point, when the crowd was at its craziest, I really missed Carl. I got that feeling I sometimes do when buried in a crowd, that all-alone feeling, even though I couldn't be further from alone...and I really missed my friend. But then I snapped out of it and started shouting and I held onto Neil a little tighter and let myself be swept up in the moment as Zozobra's mouth started spewing flames and he moaned and the crowd laughed and cheered as last year's gloom was incinerated, wiping the slate clean for the year to come.
This year was the 80th anniversary of the burning of Zozobra, a large puppet (60 feet tall, I believe) that is supposed to carry away all the gloom from the previous year as it goes up in flames. Every year, the Kiwanis Club in Santa Fe coordinates the event, builds the paper puppet and then sets him on fire on a hill above a large park. Over the years, the display has become more and more elaborate with increasingly sophisticated fireworks and other pyrotechnics. There are little kids dressed in sheets that dance around before the fires are lit and are supposed to represent the gloom that's about to be torched... then there are various dancers including one dressed in red (the fire dancer) who comes out and symbolically sets Zozobra on fire. While all the dancing is taking place, the puppet moans and groans and flails his arms around and the crowd chants, "Burn him! Burn him!" "Que Viva La Fiesta!" "Que Viva" and other less friendly things like "Burn the Motherfucker". When I was in high school, my friends and I used to yell, "Burn the puppet!" to be funny. Looking back, it really doesn't seem that funny at all...
After all the chanting and dancing, fireworks go off and Zozobra starts on fire.
I realize that this all probably sounds a little bizarre... but growing up with it as part of my tradition, I didn't realize how strange it was. In fact, it didn't seem strange at all. When I was little, my family would have a picnic on the field before dark and then hang around to watch the burning. Then in high school I went every year. When college came along, I also went every year because my school didn't start until a week or two after Zozobra. A small group of friends was usually still in town and we'd get together and go watch. But before last Thursday, I hadn't been to Zozobra in a long time. I'm pretty sure that the last time I watched Old Man Gloom burn, I was with my friend Carl who was battling a cancerous tumor in his brain and, at that point, winning. That was the last time I really got to hang out with him. I saw him briefly that winter over Christmas and then, in the spring, he died. But that year at Zozobra, we were all so alive as we watched our glooms go up in smoke and I drove him home and a group of friends talked and played music and everything was right in the world.
This year -- which I believe is five years after the Zozobra I attended with Carl -- was Neil's inaugural trip to Zozobra. It was very exciting...perhaps more so for me than Neil since I'd been wanting to drag him to the crazy pagan ritual for years. I think he had fun...Other than a fight breaking out in the crowd near us (the police broke it up right away) and Neil saying at one point, "I don't know how you grew up here," (this comment might have been fueled by the abundance of scantily-clad girls and gangster-looking guys on the field with us) he seemed to enjoy it. I enjoyed it too...at one point, when the crowd was at its craziest, I really missed Carl. I got that feeling I sometimes do when buried in a crowd, that all-alone feeling, even though I couldn't be further from alone...and I really missed my friend. But then I snapped out of it and started shouting and I held onto Neil a little tighter and let myself be swept up in the moment as Zozobra's mouth started spewing flames and he moaned and the crowd laughed and cheered as last year's gloom was incinerated, wiping the slate clean for the year to come.
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Oh, My Goodness ... Politics
Ok, so it's Saturday and I have spent the bulk of my day so far e-mailing friends about politics. I love politics, and I love political debate. I find great value in hearing other peoples' opinions and in expressing my own, as each time I make a political argument, it helps me to further clarify where I stand on issues. But right now I am exhausted.
I have one friend who was a liberal in every sense of the word, right down to vegetarianism and use of things like organic soap, who has now decided she supports Bush. We have lately been e-mailing each other articles we seem to think will convince the other person to switch sides... no luck so far. Then, I have two friends from other states who do my job for their states (we met at a conference) One of the friends thinks like I do and the other doesn't. They have consumed the bulk of my morning with witty political banter. Finally, I have a good friend who has found herself on the fence due to a lack of any good candidates but she is worried I might be mad or disapprove of her current political dilemma.
These three conversations probably caused me to write about 20 e-mails today alone about politics. While I am a little exhausted from it all... and I sometimes get frustrated when people don't see things the way I do, mostly, I am really thankful that I have such smart, inquisitive people in my life who can discuss politics in a civilized and intelligent way. And, I am invigorated by all of the great debate.
This morning’s manifesto – an incomplete, hastily typed out snippet of my politics:
I was just discussing this with a friend over dinner last night who said she doesn't like either candidate. While I don't think Kerry is the best thing ever, I do know a few things:
1) He will protect our environment more than the current administration
2) He will protect my rights as a woman
3) He won't make any federal laws outlawing equal rights for different groups (e.g. a law banning gay marriage)
4) He has good ideas about ways to improve both education and health care
So, in essence, Kerry is, or purports to be, the candidate who has my top priorities at heart and who thinks more like I do.
As for safety from terrorists, I am for it. I don't like terrorists. I don't want to be attacked. But, I have not seen, heard or read any compelling evidence that a Bush administration will do anything better than a Kerry administration in terms of protecting our nation. If we're going to be attacked, we'll be attacked. As for Iraq, I am not at all convinced that overthrowing Sadam made us any safer in terms of terrorists. In fact, it may have only increased the ire of people in that part of the world and inspired more people previously on the edge to lean toward fanaticism. I DO think that Sadam is evil and that eventually that country will be better off without him, but I am angry at the president and his team for misleading us and congress and our allies into starting that war and I strongly believe that our nations resources could have been better spent finishing what we started in Afghanistan and working on finding Osama Bin Laden and others like him who would do harm to our country.
Additionally, I think it's so sad that the U.S. went from being so well-loved internationally to having our athletes repeatedly booed at the Olympics last month and I believe that Kerry can help repair our international image... the stronger the international community, the better off we will be combating terrorism here and abroad.
Ok, so it's Saturday and I have spent the bulk of my day so far e-mailing friends about politics. I love politics, and I love political debate. I find great value in hearing other peoples' opinions and in expressing my own, as each time I make a political argument, it helps me to further clarify where I stand on issues. But right now I am exhausted.
I have one friend who was a liberal in every sense of the word, right down to vegetarianism and use of things like organic soap, who has now decided she supports Bush. We have lately been e-mailing each other articles we seem to think will convince the other person to switch sides... no luck so far. Then, I have two friends from other states who do my job for their states (we met at a conference) One of the friends thinks like I do and the other doesn't. They have consumed the bulk of my morning with witty political banter. Finally, I have a good friend who has found herself on the fence due to a lack of any good candidates but she is worried I might be mad or disapprove of her current political dilemma.
These three conversations probably caused me to write about 20 e-mails today alone about politics. While I am a little exhausted from it all... and I sometimes get frustrated when people don't see things the way I do, mostly, I am really thankful that I have such smart, inquisitive people in my life who can discuss politics in a civilized and intelligent way. And, I am invigorated by all of the great debate.
This morning’s manifesto – an incomplete, hastily typed out snippet of my politics:
I was just discussing this with a friend over dinner last night who said she doesn't like either candidate. While I don't think Kerry is the best thing ever, I do know a few things:
1) He will protect our environment more than the current administration
2) He will protect my rights as a woman
3) He won't make any federal laws outlawing equal rights for different groups (e.g. a law banning gay marriage)
4) He has good ideas about ways to improve both education and health care
So, in essence, Kerry is, or purports to be, the candidate who has my top priorities at heart and who thinks more like I do.
As for safety from terrorists, I am for it. I don't like terrorists. I don't want to be attacked. But, I have not seen, heard or read any compelling evidence that a Bush administration will do anything better than a Kerry administration in terms of protecting our nation. If we're going to be attacked, we'll be attacked. As for Iraq, I am not at all convinced that overthrowing Sadam made us any safer in terms of terrorists. In fact, it may have only increased the ire of people in that part of the world and inspired more people previously on the edge to lean toward fanaticism. I DO think that Sadam is evil and that eventually that country will be better off without him, but I am angry at the president and his team for misleading us and congress and our allies into starting that war and I strongly believe that our nations resources could have been better spent finishing what we started in Afghanistan and working on finding Osama Bin Laden and others like him who would do harm to our country.
Additionally, I think it's so sad that the U.S. went from being so well-loved internationally to having our athletes repeatedly booed at the Olympics last month and I believe that Kerry can help repair our international image... the stronger the international community, the better off we will be combating terrorism here and abroad.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Overly Ambitious
This past Labor Day weekend was a weekend of over-inflated ambition. Allow me to elaborate:
On Saturday, Neil and I went on an anniversary hike. Ever since we moved here almost two years ago I have been wanting to hike with him in the Santa Fe Mountains. So I decided I would pick a hike and we'd finally do it. We woke up early, drove to Santa Fe and dropped the dogs off at my parents' house. Then we drove another 30 minutes to the top of the ski basin where the trail started. Our goal: get to an alpine meadow called Puerto Nambe and have a picnic... then possibly continue another mile or so to Spirit Lake. The distance to the lake: 5 miles. The altitude: 10,300 feet to 11,070 feet. Heh. The twist: it was a rare cloudy and drizzly day in Santa Fe.
So, we started the hike which kicks off with half a mile of
Finally, we got to the meadow which was huge and beautiful and brought back memories of my childhood when I camped there on a backpacking trip. But right as we sat down on a rock for a picnic it started pouring. Neil was wearing shorts and a t-shirt with his rain jacket and I wasn't doing much better in my thin pants and damp sweatshirt, so we started to be really cold and after scarfing our peanut butter sandwiches (mine had jelly, too) we quickly abandoned plans to go to the lake and headed back to the car. It rained nearly the entire way back and we were slightly miserable, especially since we really didn't get to rest at all before turning back. We got to the car about 4.5 hours after starting our journey and we had walked 8.5 miles and climbed about 750 feet. I definitely felt badass for making it...but we both agreed that it may have been smart to choose a slightly less serious hike for our pleasant anniversary celebration.
Sunday: The excess continues. After a fun time at the state fair where we saw baby goats and visited the petting zoo and almost bought another rabbit and ate some junk food and saw some junk-peddlers demonstrating things like salsa makers and magic mops, we went home and had a nap. When we woke up, we decided it was time to go to the grocery store and buy some green chile. It's chile season and most grocery stores are selling burlap sacks of chile and roasting it for free in the parking lot. A bag of chile only costs $9.99 and Neil and I decided we needed the large bag since the idea is to get all the chile you will need for the year, have it roasted, take it home, peel it and then freeze it for later use. So, we had the high school kid in the parking lot toss our chile into the big round roaster and watched as he fired it up and then turned the crank, rolling our chile around and around until it was scorched and smelled amazing. He threw it all into a big plastic garbage bag and we took it home in the back of the pickup truck. Then, we spent the next 3 and a half hours peeling and slicing the chile. It is not an easy process as some chiles are roasted better than others and the ones that are only partially roasted are nearly impossible to peel. You also have to be careful not to touch your eyes or nose or anything else sensitive while peeling because you will burn yourself. We peeled and peeled and the pile of chile in our sink didn't shrink until about midnight when we finally saw a glimpse of the sink's stainless steel at the bottom. By then our feet and backs hurt and our finger tips were burning like they were being held in flames. Around 12:30 we finished the job. I put all the freezer bags of chile in the bottom drawer of our freezer and we laughed hysterically because we probably have enough chile for three years. Neil remarked that he now understood why one woman in line for roasting only had a small plastic produce bag full of chile and the two of us went to sleep gripping ice packs in our hands to stop the burning.
On Monday, we continued our tradition. We went on a bike ride that was long but not too long but it involved a large hill-climb at the end and...we forgot our water bottles and it was hot. I was convinced I'd be walking up the big hill at the end, but other than about ten paces at the beginning when I was trying to get into my toe clips after getting off the bike at the stoplight, I made it up the whole hill... I was a bit slow, but I made it. And we got home and felt like we'd accomplished something.
I am not sure if there are any lessons to be learned from this weekend's excess... something like my eyes are bigger than my stomach or don't bite off more than I can chew.... but not related to eating??? Or maybe the real lesson is that I should continue to try to do things that are a little beyond what I think I can do because this weekend that strategy worked perfectly for me and Neil and I felt more alive than I have in quite a while.
This past Labor Day weekend was a weekend of over-inflated ambition. Allow me to elaborate:
On Saturday, Neil and I went on an anniversary hike. Ever since we moved here almost two years ago I have been wanting to hike with him in the Santa Fe Mountains. So I decided I would pick a hike and we'd finally do it. We woke up early, drove to Santa Fe and dropped the dogs off at my parents' house. Then we drove another 30 minutes to the top of the ski basin where the trail started. Our goal: get to an alpine meadow called Puerto Nambe and have a picnic... then possibly continue another mile or so to Spirit Lake. The distance to the lake: 5 miles. The altitude: 10,300 feet to 11,070 feet. Heh. The twist: it was a rare cloudy and drizzly day in Santa Fe.
So, we started the hike which kicks off with half a mile of
Finally, we got to the meadow which was huge and beautiful and brought back memories of my childhood when I camped there on a backpacking trip. But right as we sat down on a rock for a picnic it started pouring. Neil was wearing shorts and a t-shirt with his rain jacket and I wasn't doing much better in my thin pants and damp sweatshirt, so we started to be really cold and after scarfing our peanut butter sandwiches (mine had jelly, too) we quickly abandoned plans to go to the lake and headed back to the car. It rained nearly the entire way back and we were slightly miserable, especially since we really didn't get to rest at all before turning back. We got to the car about 4.5 hours after starting our journey and we had walked 8.5 miles and climbed about 750 feet. I definitely felt badass for making it...but we both agreed that it may have been smart to choose a slightly less serious hike for our pleasant anniversary celebration.
Sunday: The excess continues. After a fun time at the state fair where we saw baby goats and visited the petting zoo and almost bought another rabbit and ate some junk food and saw some junk-peddlers demonstrating things like salsa makers and magic mops, we went home and had a nap. When we woke up, we decided it was time to go to the grocery store and buy some green chile. It's chile season and most grocery stores are selling burlap sacks of chile and roasting it for free in the parking lot. A bag of chile only costs $9.99 and Neil and I decided we needed the large bag since the idea is to get all the chile you will need for the year, have it roasted, take it home, peel it and then freeze it for later use. So, we had the high school kid in the parking lot toss our chile into the big round roaster and watched as he fired it up and then turned the crank, rolling our chile around and around until it was scorched and smelled amazing. He threw it all into a big plastic garbage bag and we took it home in the back of the pickup truck. Then, we spent the next 3 and a half hours peeling and slicing the chile. It is not an easy process as some chiles are roasted better than others and the ones that are only partially roasted are nearly impossible to peel. You also have to be careful not to touch your eyes or nose or anything else sensitive while peeling because you will burn yourself. We peeled and peeled and the pile of chile in our sink didn't shrink until about midnight when we finally saw a glimpse of the sink's stainless steel at the bottom. By then our feet and backs hurt and our finger tips were burning like they were being held in flames. Around 12:30 we finished the job. I put all the freezer bags of chile in the bottom drawer of our freezer and we laughed hysterically because we probably have enough chile for three years. Neil remarked that he now understood why one woman in line for roasting only had a small plastic produce bag full of chile and the two of us went to sleep gripping ice packs in our hands to stop the burning.
On Monday, we continued our tradition. We went on a bike ride that was long but not too long but it involved a large hill-climb at the end and...we forgot our water bottles and it was hot. I was convinced I'd be walking up the big hill at the end, but other than about ten paces at the beginning when I was trying to get into my toe clips after getting off the bike at the stoplight, I made it up the whole hill... I was a bit slow, but I made it. And we got home and felt like we'd accomplished something.
I am not sure if there are any lessons to be learned from this weekend's excess... something like my eyes are bigger than my stomach or don't bite off more than I can chew.... but not related to eating??? Or maybe the real lesson is that I should continue to try to do things that are a little beyond what I think I can do because this weekend that strategy worked perfectly for me and Neil and I felt more alive than I have in quite a while.
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