The universe is trying to tell me something. Four things point to this:
1. I start reading a cute little book, Just Write: The Art of Personal Correspondence. Nothing special, just for fun. But it makes me consider the dying art of letters.
2. I receive TWO sweet things by 'snail' mail: a letter from TX, written in pencil, on sweet puffin stationery, and a manila envelope from my hometown. The envelope contains pages from a magazine from 2005, telling stories from returned PC volunteers in their own words. A kind friend from high school thought we'd enjoy them. [Brandon and I take turns reading them aloud to each other and get goosebumps. Possibly t-minus 7 months].
3. I see on tv that USPS is considering eliminating mail service one day a week (probably Tuesdays), due to decreased letter volume and budget concerns. This is good for the global meltdown (less fossil-fuel-cranking mail trucks and more peeps using electronic billing), but bad for my love of opening my mailbox every day when I get home, 'cept Sunday. God and the mailpeople must rest on this day. I get it.
It's a slippery slope though - email's taken over and I am, we are, forgetting the value of sitting down to put pen to paper. There really is nothing better than the excitement of finding a non-bill envelope in the box or the satisfaction of reading something with all the handwritten loops and lines sent from some distant place.
4. Yesterday's sermon highlighted the distinct differences between things that are important and things that are urgent. Many things are important, but not urgent, and they get pushed to the end of the list, while urgent (yet otherwise unimportant) things consume our time. People are important. Most of my work-related tasks are urgent, but won't have significant impacts beyond this week.
I'm taking my stand this year by sending more packages, writing more letters, mailing more postcards - to show my people I care, that I'm thinking about them all the time, and that I'm making time for the truly essential.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Undead
This blog isn't dead, just derailed for awhile. Causes for derailment include:
1) family crisis, which spawned a second family crisis. both now relatively under control; we could fill 10 dumpsters with video tapes...
2) a busy yet awesome holiday break from work for both b & me. a super sweet road trip including: a trip to an IN wind farm (brandon's nerd detour, but i seriously could've stayed there all day in the middle of the field, hypnotized); a drive up to Chicago to see my long lost bff (and be touristy together = philippine coral reef exhibit at the Shedd!); + a great stopover in Pburg to see the Davises. They are great people who we should see more often; plus, their dogs are precious.
3) a couple ecoprojects to earn me old-peep brownie points
4) six months of work culminating in a renewed volunteer system unleashed THIS WEEK.
5) PC medical packet, oh boy.
1) family crisis, which spawned a second family crisis. both now relatively under control; we could fill 10 dumpsters with video tapes...
2) a busy yet awesome holiday break from work for both b & me. a super sweet road trip including: a trip to an IN wind farm (brandon's nerd detour, but i seriously could've stayed there all day in the middle of the field, hypnotized); a drive up to Chicago to see my long lost bff (and be touristy together = philippine coral reef exhibit at the Shedd!); + a great stopover in Pburg to see the Davises. They are great people who we should see more often; plus, their dogs are precious.
3) a couple ecoprojects to earn me old-peep brownie points
4) six months of work culminating in a renewed volunteer system unleashed THIS WEEK.
5) PC medical packet, oh boy.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Cooking Up Some Dirt
Like the last one I posted about, this past weekend was chock full of assorted fun. We had our first 'real' event for our Presb earth justice group - a composting workshop and bin building demo. Things went well despite the dreariness and cold. We built a two pile bin out of palettes and hosed it down to get it cookin. Per usual, B & I were the only ones there who weren't alive during the Truman administration...
Some History on Everyone's Favorite Subject Right Now
It seems like we're all still coming down off our obamahigh. We're all smiley and full of hope. A few calls overseas to my pals always helps cement my perspective here, and I think the numbness/shock & awe is beginning to wear off and I'm starting to feel and process.
It really is no surprise that my generation is such a bunch of cynics. As I sat watching the election results with my pals, I was processing our patriotic history. Age 15: The first election I really remember and could process was stolen. Age 17: the 9/11 attacks take place while my senior class is outside taking our group photo on the football field. Age 18: George Bush declares mission accomplished on the battleship while I sit in my freshman year dorm room and throw crap at the screen. Age 21: I study political science during the Bush administration. enough said. Age 20: I pour all my frustration into my vote for John Kerry. I stay up until 5am waiting to hear election results. My home state of Ohio is blamed. My roommate breaks the dishes in our kitchen cupboard. The entire town feels like it's under a black cloud. We forget about school and eat more ice cream.
Age 21: I sign up for AmeriCorps VISTA. Age 23: I sign up for the Peace Corps. Age 24: I volunteer for the Obama campaign. I canvass in trailer parks and on dirt roads. I hear that Obama is ahead, even in Ohio, yet refuse to get my hopes up. I sit on my couch, surrounded by friends my same age, mostly fellow VISTA members, who for the first time feel patriotic as Obama is named president elect.
So I've wondered - how is it that I've poured so much energy into studying this country, plus devoted up to five years of my life to serving it, yet still had so little hope in it. Looking back, it makes a heck of a lot of sense. I guess we all kept pressing on because we've learned and seen what people can do when they join together, even in the crazy time of this last decade. Whether it's fancy intellectual movements or good old community organizing here in Appalachia, I've seen it work and inspire and move. And to actually see it playing out on the national scale - in front of all the flashy lights and cameras, on the CNN ticker, on the cover of Time magazine - is just surreal.
It really is no surprise that my generation is such a bunch of cynics. As I sat watching the election results with my pals, I was processing our patriotic history. Age 15: The first election I really remember and could process was stolen. Age 17: the 9/11 attacks take place while my senior class is outside taking our group photo on the football field. Age 18: George Bush declares mission accomplished on the battleship while I sit in my freshman year dorm room and throw crap at the screen. Age 21: I study political science during the Bush administration. enough said. Age 20: I pour all my frustration into my vote for John Kerry. I stay up until 5am waiting to hear election results. My home state of Ohio is blamed. My roommate breaks the dishes in our kitchen cupboard. The entire town feels like it's under a black cloud. We forget about school and eat more ice cream.
Age 21: I sign up for AmeriCorps VISTA. Age 23: I sign up for the Peace Corps. Age 24: I volunteer for the Obama campaign. I canvass in trailer parks and on dirt roads. I hear that Obama is ahead, even in Ohio, yet refuse to get my hopes up. I sit on my couch, surrounded by friends my same age, mostly fellow VISTA members, who for the first time feel patriotic as Obama is named president elect.
So I've wondered - how is it that I've poured so much energy into studying this country, plus devoted up to five years of my life to serving it, yet still had so little hope in it. Looking back, it makes a heck of a lot of sense. I guess we all kept pressing on because we've learned and seen what people can do when they join together, even in the crazy time of this last decade. Whether it's fancy intellectual movements or good old community organizing here in Appalachia, I've seen it work and inspire and move. And to actually see it playing out on the national scale - in front of all the flashy lights and cameras, on the CNN ticker, on the cover of Time magazine - is just surreal.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
In the Mix
This last week was a total hodgepodge of events that paint a picture of our random life in Athens:
*Wednesday we took a trip to the round town pump fest with VISTA pals. B & I decided to relive our childhood memories of the street fair with a trip on the 'Eggroll' - a ride that's pretty much now the grandpa of much fancier rides. It was a bad idea. We almost barfed up all the pumpkin goodies we'd scarfed down. This, again, validates the fact that we're OVER this kind of stuff.
*The changing of the leaves this year seemed better than I remember from recent autumns. We haven't had a lot of rain this fall, so the leaves were a crazy rainbow that persisted without rain to wash it out.
*Saturday we enjoyed the peak of the farmer's market. There was a great assortment of vendors we don't normally see - probably small plot gardeners sharing the wealth this year.
*In the afternoon we strolled over to a small arts festival to check out the goods and watch an acoustic set. It was small but inspiring - put on by a group of ladies who are doing good in this place - and had a real collaborative spirit.
*But Sunday was the best - first we attended the 'organ spectacular.' and it was. spectacular. We initially went out of obligation to peeps in our church who love organ music, lol, but it was actually great - not the soft, somber churchy hymn-kind, but full on Phantom of the Opera style. It was a progressive concert, moving from one location to the next, so we picked it up on legs 2 & 3: at the Presb and then at the chapel where we were married. The Presb was the 'patriotic stop,' but surprisingly I wasn't annoyed with the music - and a troupe of piccolo players appeared for the end of the Sousa! (all the oldies loved this). Then, at the chapel, I watched the leaves fluttering down through the giant windows behind the organ and thought about how great the PS W-day was.
*After hanging with our usual over 60 demographic at the organ spectacular, we went straight to a chili cook-off put on by the DIY kids across the street. Like being in the sea of gray-haired folks, we didn't quite fit there either - with everyone trying too hard to look all rough yet stylin. But everyone there was really great and my pal Sarah won the contest, per her usual awesomeness. The mayor gave our neighbor the key to the city, made of cardboard and spray painted glittery gold, and a local rap 'star' wound it up and down with some beatz.
Athens is just like that - this total mix of strangeness, where I don't quite know where I fit into it all, but there's always something small (but thriving and lively) going on, and I love it. Plus, I'm getting all sentimental about this place and its randomness and goodness because we're (hopefully) under 10 months til we move it on outta here.
*Wednesday we took a trip to the round town pump fest with VISTA pals. B & I decided to relive our childhood memories of the street fair with a trip on the 'Eggroll' - a ride that's pretty much now the grandpa of much fancier rides. It was a bad idea. We almost barfed up all the pumpkin goodies we'd scarfed down. This, again, validates the fact that we're OVER this kind of stuff.
*The changing of the leaves this year seemed better than I remember from recent autumns. We haven't had a lot of rain this fall, so the leaves were a crazy rainbow that persisted without rain to wash it out.
*Saturday we enjoyed the peak of the farmer's market. There was a great assortment of vendors we don't normally see - probably small plot gardeners sharing the wealth this year.
*In the afternoon we strolled over to a small arts festival to check out the goods and watch an acoustic set. It was small but inspiring - put on by a group of ladies who are doing good in this place - and had a real collaborative spirit.
*But Sunday was the best - first we attended the 'organ spectacular.' and it was. spectacular. We initially went out of obligation to peeps in our church who love organ music, lol, but it was actually great - not the soft, somber churchy hymn-kind, but full on Phantom of the Opera style. It was a progressive concert, moving from one location to the next, so we picked it up on legs 2 & 3: at the Presb and then at the chapel where we were married. The Presb was the 'patriotic stop,' but surprisingly I wasn't annoyed with the music - and a troupe of piccolo players appeared for the end of the Sousa! (all the oldies loved this). Then, at the chapel, I watched the leaves fluttering down through the giant windows behind the organ and thought about how great the PS W-day was.
*After hanging with our usual over 60 demographic at the organ spectacular, we went straight to a chili cook-off put on by the DIY kids across the street. Like being in the sea of gray-haired folks, we didn't quite fit there either - with everyone trying too hard to look all rough yet stylin. But everyone there was really great and my pal Sarah won the contest, per her usual awesomeness. The mayor gave our neighbor the key to the city, made of cardboard and spray painted glittery gold, and a local rap 'star' wound it up and down with some beatz.
Athens is just like that - this total mix of strangeness, where I don't quite know where I fit into it all, but there's always something small (but thriving and lively) going on, and I love it. Plus, I'm getting all sentimental about this place and its randomness and goodness because we're (hopefully) under 10 months til we move it on outta here.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
E-Life
I'm out. of. control. Three posts, one day.
Just wanted to say I am loving the internets. And I think they love me. I have discovered Google Reader, which has made my online life SO much more efficient. And I kind of love the new Facebook, because it's all decluttered and I hate all those weirdo applications, like "Give your friend a piece of Flair." It's all streamlined and de-uglied, although the ads are more prominent. There are pros and cons. And then I've been reading about Twitter - I don't think I have a use for such a thing - it creeps me out and I don't care if people ate peanut butter toast for breakfast or whatever. Anyway, I can share things I'm reading on my Reader by connecting it to Facebook, right? Is this what they call 'the-Web-2.0'? I have been living in the dark ages...
Just wanted to say I am loving the internets. And I think they love me. I have discovered Google Reader, which has made my online life SO much more efficient. And I kind of love the new Facebook, because it's all decluttered and I hate all those weirdo applications, like "Give your friend a piece of Flair." It's all streamlined and de-uglied, although the ads are more prominent. There are pros and cons. And then I've been reading about Twitter - I don't think I have a use for such a thing - it creeps me out and I don't care if people ate peanut butter toast for breakfast or whatever. Anyway, I can share things I'm reading on my Reader by connecting it to Facebook, right? Is this what they call 'the-Web-2.0'? I have been living in the dark ages...
A Conversation I Had Last Night
My mom's life story isn't one that most would find riveting, but I am constantly impressed by her intelligence and sharp sense of humor. I frequently open my mailbox to find a envelope with her return address stuffed full of interesting news articles (she most recently sent one on corporation CSAs, where produce comes to the workplace because all the workin suburbanites are too busy to pick up the goodies after work), witty political cartoons on global warming and healthcare, and other notes on life. I have no doubt that with her brain, she could/can do amazing things that would impress the rest of the world as well.
But she and I have led very different lives thus far. She started out wanting to be a horticulturist, but was convinced by her mother to study cosmetology instead - something she hated and found shallow. Under pressure, she went to the vocational school in her teens to study hair color and learned how to cut mullets and feathered bangs in the late '70s.
Reflecting on this experience, teenage dynamics, and her upcoming 30th high school reunion, my mom explained, "I have no reason to look back. No one would even know who I am. They didn't know who I was at the time. Those popular kids were afraid of the JVS. They were scared they'd go there and people would FORGET about them and how great they were. But kids like me, we didn't care. We were like that movie Frosty the Snowman - we were the Isle of Misfit Toys!"
Since this time, she's kept up her true passion - flower gardening. Growing insane amounts of zinnias and mexican sunflowers and always finding new varieties, she tends her beds every single evening. But during the day, she's spent the last two decades working in supermarket delis or meat departments- all the while still dreaming of having her own garden center or flower shop.
Yet, because she can't resist, she finds humor wherever she is and always wears a smile. She teases coworkers and has no qualms calling people out for being 'crusty old men' when they have a bad attitude. She's even laid down the law with one guy who whistles eight hours a day with her own set of rules: "No holiday songs. no funeral songs. no patriotic songs."
As Brandon and I are finding ourselves at a unique crossroads in life, trying to determine our next step - new place, new work, new life - I've been reflecting a lot on just how privileged this place is. I can choose the kind of life I will have - how I will make money, how I use my time - and I realize that my parents have never had, and probably never will have, this luxury. And when I start to bemoan all the choices I have to make, I stop myself. Because somewhere along the line I've started fulfilling all those cliches about parents wanting to give their kids a better life, and I find myself incredibly grateful.
But she and I have led very different lives thus far. She started out wanting to be a horticulturist, but was convinced by her mother to study cosmetology instead - something she hated and found shallow. Under pressure, she went to the vocational school in her teens to study hair color and learned how to cut mullets and feathered bangs in the late '70s.
Reflecting on this experience, teenage dynamics, and her upcoming 30th high school reunion, my mom explained, "I have no reason to look back. No one would even know who I am. They didn't know who I was at the time. Those popular kids were afraid of the JVS. They were scared they'd go there and people would FORGET about them and how great they were. But kids like me, we didn't care. We were like that movie Frosty the Snowman - we were the Isle of Misfit Toys!"
Since this time, she's kept up her true passion - flower gardening. Growing insane amounts of zinnias and mexican sunflowers and always finding new varieties, she tends her beds every single evening. But during the day, she's spent the last two decades working in supermarket delis or meat departments- all the while still dreaming of having her own garden center or flower shop.
Yet, because she can't resist, she finds humor wherever she is and always wears a smile. She teases coworkers and has no qualms calling people out for being 'crusty old men' when they have a bad attitude. She's even laid down the law with one guy who whistles eight hours a day with her own set of rules: "No holiday songs. no funeral songs. no patriotic songs."
As Brandon and I are finding ourselves at a unique crossroads in life, trying to determine our next step - new place, new work, new life - I've been reflecting a lot on just how privileged this place is. I can choose the kind of life I will have - how I will make money, how I use my time - and I realize that my parents have never had, and probably never will have, this luxury. And when I start to bemoan all the choices I have to make, I stop myself. Because somewhere along the line I've started fulfilling all those cliches about parents wanting to give their kids a better life, and I find myself incredibly grateful.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Red Strategy
Whit Ayers, Republican strategist, explained last night the mysterious allure of Sarah Palin and how she will serve as an asset to the campaign:
"Sarah Palin will play beautifully in megachurches and at gun shows."
Sadly, I see the connection.
"Sarah Palin will play beautifully in megachurches and at gun shows."
Sadly, I see the connection.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
In the Year 2000
Someday I will have a home computer again and I will learn about all the fancy new things on the internet. I will upload photos with ease. I might post photos on this very blog. I will read blogs about design and craftiness until my eyes cross. I will watch videos and other things that have sound. I will join my generation and not feel like such a technophobe ruralite. It will be great.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Life Planning. Gross.
I finally got motivated enough to buy a GRE study book and start taking the online prep course. My long and painful history of procrastination had finally come to an end. Another year would not pass while I vowed "I WILL take the GRE by the end of the year."
And then I started thinking about an MBA. Evidently there are all sorts of crazy MBA programs out there in nonprofit management, international organizations, and even sustainable development. And I've only been searching for a short while.
Anyway, this has completely derailed my GRE plans because if I go for the MBA I'll need to take the GMAT instead -- which, from what I can tell so far, is much harder and more expensive ($250). But I definitely need to do some more reading, searching before committing to anything.
I was looking forward to the funness of grad-studentdom; absorbing courses about gender & globalization, revolutionary movements, geographies of the developing world; instead, I might be doing stats and making business plans. But for some reason I have a feeling that this is a good new direction to consider. Rather than just feeding my love of liberal arts goodness, I'll have some concrete skills to apply to organizations or maybe my own business; oh, and I'll be paying off my business school loans FOREVER.
Do any of you know anything about this stuff??
And then I started thinking about an MBA. Evidently there are all sorts of crazy MBA programs out there in nonprofit management, international organizations, and even sustainable development. And I've only been searching for a short while.
Anyway, this has completely derailed my GRE plans because if I go for the MBA I'll need to take the GMAT instead -- which, from what I can tell so far, is much harder and more expensive ($250). But I definitely need to do some more reading, searching before committing to anything.
I was looking forward to the funness of grad-studentdom; absorbing courses about gender & globalization, revolutionary movements, geographies of the developing world; instead, I might be doing stats and making business plans. But for some reason I have a feeling that this is a good new direction to consider. Rather than just feeding my love of liberal arts goodness, I'll have some concrete skills to apply to organizations or maybe my own business; oh, and I'll be paying off my business school loans FOREVER.
Do any of you know anything about this stuff??
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
New Campaigning Tactic
My second wedding anniversary falls on the much-anticipated presidential election. To do our part, Brandon and I have devised the following plan:
If McCain wins, we get a divorce; if Obama wins, we'll stick it out together for eternity.
Tell all your friends -- if they want to keep a happy, loving couple together in holy matrimony, they'd better vote accordingly.
If McCain wins, we get a divorce; if Obama wins, we'll stick it out together for eternity.
Tell all your friends -- if they want to keep a happy, loving couple together in holy matrimony, they'd better vote accordingly.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Something to Say
Haven't been writing in the b-log. Been out of sorts busy for awhile. Lots of weekends out of town -- it's JDavis now, folks! So lots of good hanging out with my far-aways, plus more far-aways coming this weekend. Birthday bash was a great time and pals from Cbus even made the painstaking trek over the hills to get here. Lots of JessM visits, and with Mdonia closin in, these will soon come to an end, so we gotta pack em in.
I wanted to keep a garden journal this sumer, but have pretty much failed/not noticed how much stuff changes in just a very short amount of time. Here's the time lapse: tomatoes, four varieties of peppers, cilantro, basil, cucumbers, oregano all went in the ground some time this spring. Now there's tasty leaves and fruits all over the place, pepper plants bendin to the ground with tasty goodness. Major obstacles have been: a) bunny ate all our basil clean to the ground in one night -- I retaliated with a sweet fence and luckily the plants regenerated -- a miracle! b) i tripped over said fence one day after weeding and did a sweet ninja flip in the air only to land safely in tortoise pose. c) said bunny returns this week to eat two tricky holes through my fence -- i catch him in the act of leafeatery, but he escapes through the secret hatch d) new uberfence is erected around fence 1.
Also, cucumbers have been tough this season -- we have an armored beetle of death that is resistant to pretty much anything. RJP's advice for this scenario started out all wholesome: "Take a coffee can and poke some holes in the top..." [yes! this sounds like a great, old-timey farming trick passed down from my Appalachian farmer roots] ..."and then you pour some Seven in there and nuke the bastards!" [i speak too soon]
With few organic alternatives to turn to for taking down this pest (after we consulted a very knowledgeable org. farmer here in A-town), we're mostly letting the cukes go -- with a few fruits to nibble, I'm ready to sacrifice that portion of our mini-plot for gourd farming. Did I mention Brandon wanted to grow giant pumpkins in our 10x10 earthenpatch? You know, the ones you inject with milk and honey and then take to the county fair. That's not gonna happen - so the assorted mini-gourds will have to do.
I wanted to keep a garden journal this sumer, but have pretty much failed/not noticed how much stuff changes in just a very short amount of time. Here's the time lapse: tomatoes, four varieties of peppers, cilantro, basil, cucumbers, oregano all went in the ground some time this spring. Now there's tasty leaves and fruits all over the place, pepper plants bendin to the ground with tasty goodness. Major obstacles have been: a) bunny ate all our basil clean to the ground in one night -- I retaliated with a sweet fence and luckily the plants regenerated -- a miracle! b) i tripped over said fence one day after weeding and did a sweet ninja flip in the air only to land safely in tortoise pose. c) said bunny returns this week to eat two tricky holes through my fence -- i catch him in the act of leafeatery, but he escapes through the secret hatch d) new uberfence is erected around fence 1.
Also, cucumbers have been tough this season -- we have an armored beetle of death that is resistant to pretty much anything. RJP's advice for this scenario started out all wholesome: "Take a coffee can and poke some holes in the top..." [yes! this sounds like a great, old-timey farming trick passed down from my Appalachian farmer roots] ..."and then you pour some Seven in there and nuke the bastards!" [i speak too soon]
With few organic alternatives to turn to for taking down this pest (after we consulted a very knowledgeable org. farmer here in A-town), we're mostly letting the cukes go -- with a few fruits to nibble, I'm ready to sacrifice that portion of our mini-plot for gourd farming. Did I mention Brandon wanted to grow giant pumpkins in our 10x10 earthenpatch? You know, the ones you inject with milk and honey and then take to the county fair. That's not gonna happen - so the assorted mini-gourds will have to do.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Strangeness
This week has been unusual. I've been living the life of someone who has a real (corporate?) 'job,' as my boss invited me to attend networking event for a regional nonprofit group. There was no objective for this trip other than to network, site see, have fun and eat. Where was I?
The highlight of the trip (and the real purpose for me going - as a reward, can you believe it?) was a whitewater rafting trip. When I arrived, I discovered the rafting was to take place on a man made course - somewhat lame, but still great. My group of six rafted the level 2-3 rapids course eight times, each time demanding that our guide up the skill level, until we finally did the "hero run." Amazingly, no one fell out of the raft, although there were some close calls.
Today, I'm sore - with lots of paddle bruises and raft burns from trying not to bounce into the water. And I remember the days where being put up in a hotel with an expense account was the norm, back before I decided to work in the hills in an old church without real healthcare or pay. But I honestly wouldn't trade it. I actually found myself feeling like all the money being spent on my good time this week was a waste - shouldn't this money be fueling real change or something?
For now though, I'm thankful for this strange, foreign world of 'perks'; it could be a long time before I experience something like this again. Thank you, oh poverty gods, for having favor with me - if only for a few days. Stuff like this puts it all into perspective and affirms that I'm where I should be.
The highlight of the trip (and the real purpose for me going - as a reward, can you believe it?) was a whitewater rafting trip. When I arrived, I discovered the rafting was to take place on a man made course - somewhat lame, but still great. My group of six rafted the level 2-3 rapids course eight times, each time demanding that our guide up the skill level, until we finally did the "hero run." Amazingly, no one fell out of the raft, although there were some close calls.
Today, I'm sore - with lots of paddle bruises and raft burns from trying not to bounce into the water. And I remember the days where being put up in a hotel with an expense account was the norm, back before I decided to work in the hills in an old church without real healthcare or pay. But I honestly wouldn't trade it. I actually found myself feeling like all the money being spent on my good time this week was a waste - shouldn't this money be fueling real change or something?
For now though, I'm thankful for this strange, foreign world of 'perks'; it could be a long time before I experience something like this again. Thank you, oh poverty gods, for having favor with me - if only for a few days. Stuff like this puts it all into perspective and affirms that I'm where I should be.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Burnin Down the House
Last Friday I returned home a little early from a fun day outside, chock full of electrofishing and macroinvertebrate hunting. When I turned the key and stepped inside, I immediately smelled something foul burning and noticed a lamp overturned on the floor in the living room. I walked over to the lamp, and it was indeed smoking; but the real shock came when I picked it up off the floor and a chunk of shag carpet and wood was fused to the bulb. Below, a hole (approximately four inches in diameter) had burned through not only the funky synthetic fibers, but also the padding, floorboards, and into the sub-floor. At the very bottom of this hole, the wood was smoldering like a campfire about to burst into flame. I ran into the kitchen and filled a cup with water to put out the tinder. I truly believe if I had come home just a little later, my house would have been up in flames.
This drama left me quite shaken -- with the house full of wispy smoke and the crispy hole still steaming from the dousing -- as I imagined little Stella burned to a little pile of cat-ashes.
Stella. Which brings us to the "How did this happen?" question. I came to the following conclusions: 1.) Brandon left the lamp on during the work day. 2.) Stella leapt into the window knocking the lamp on the floor and forcing the shade from the bulb. 3.) B&I have been waiting to switch to CFLs in this room, but have been waiting until our orig bulbs burn out -- a mistake because CFLs are all cool-to-the-touch and stuff.
Not such a big deal when viewed in isolation. But consider the following ridiculous scenario from a few months ago:
We were watching a movie, when I smelled gas in the house. A lot. Like the omg, my house is about to blow up amount. So we called the fire department and asked them to come out to check for a leak.
We expected a fire dude or two with their little gas meters, but soon we heard the sirens - Screaming through the west side of Athens, the fire department blocked off our street and THREE full fire engines filled the narrow road. FIVE firemen, in full gear came busting into the house. Their gas meters were clicking away like crazy and they became very worried - yes, your house is full of natural gas. This could be very dangerous...
They traced the leak to its source by following the increasing intensity of the clicks - all the way to the the kitchen stove. They checked behind it. No busted gas line. all looked well. To the oven itself - not on. To the burners - aha! The front burner was turned on by just the slightest amount - not enough to light but just leak a bit, slowly filling the house. We are idiots.
So the crew packed up, looking a little disappointed. They were bored and it appears we had gotten them out of the station for a little while, only to find nothing exciting once they got there. No home explosions tonight.
When we went back into the kitchen to consider how this had happened, we remembered we had not used the stove at all that day (or the day before). But we had placed a bowl on a nearby table, thereby creating a navigable bridge to the stove top for our furry friend. In fact, I HAD seen Stella playing on the range that afternoon, come to think of it. She must have bumped the knob when we shooed her down. The creature has a death wish. And I have panic attacks, thinking she's going to kill us while we sleep.
This drama left me quite shaken -- with the house full of wispy smoke and the crispy hole still steaming from the dousing -- as I imagined little Stella burned to a little pile of cat-ashes.
Stella. Which brings us to the "How did this happen?" question. I came to the following conclusions: 1.) Brandon left the lamp on during the work day. 2.) Stella leapt into the window knocking the lamp on the floor and forcing the shade from the bulb. 3.) B&I have been waiting to switch to CFLs in this room, but have been waiting until our orig bulbs burn out -- a mistake because CFLs are all cool-to-the-touch and stuff.
Not such a big deal when viewed in isolation. But consider the following ridiculous scenario from a few months ago:
We were watching a movie, when I smelled gas in the house. A lot. Like the omg, my house is about to blow up amount. So we called the fire department and asked them to come out to check for a leak.
We expected a fire dude or two with their little gas meters, but soon we heard the sirens - Screaming through the west side of Athens, the fire department blocked off our street and THREE full fire engines filled the narrow road. FIVE firemen, in full gear came busting into the house. Their gas meters were clicking away like crazy and they became very worried - yes, your house is full of natural gas. This could be very dangerous...
They traced the leak to its source by following the increasing intensity of the clicks - all the way to the the kitchen stove. They checked behind it. No busted gas line. all looked well. To the oven itself - not on. To the burners - aha! The front burner was turned on by just the slightest amount - not enough to light but just leak a bit, slowly filling the house. We are idiots.
So the crew packed up, looking a little disappointed. They were bored and it appears we had gotten them out of the station for a little while, only to find nothing exciting once they got there. No home explosions tonight.
When we went back into the kitchen to consider how this had happened, we remembered we had not used the stove at all that day (or the day before). But we had placed a bowl on a nearby table, thereby creating a navigable bridge to the stove top for our furry friend. In fact, I HAD seen Stella playing on the range that afternoon, come to think of it. She must have bumped the knob when we shooed her down. The creature has a death wish. And I have panic attacks, thinking she's going to kill us while we sleep.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Birthday Fortunes
While in Seattle a few weeks ago, I purchased only one item for myself - the "Fortune-Telling Birthday Book," from Elliott Bay. I just couldn't resist its patent-leather-esque red cover and gilded pages (I really have a weakness for the gilding...), vintagey illustrations, and the wonderfully appropriate fortunes it gives for each birth day of the year. Plus, I can keep all y'alls birthdays organized, and fortunes are fun.
Today's fortune is very appropriate - shout out to JessM whose b-day fortune reads: "You are a loyal and steadfast friend, and you hold your friendships. You are exacting, you like your own way, and you are very determined in your efforts to get it. You are witty, sociable, and an interesting conversationalist..."
Today's fortune is very appropriate - shout out to JessM whose b-day fortune reads: "You are a loyal and steadfast friend, and you hold your friendships. You are exacting, you like your own way, and you are very determined in your efforts to get it. You are witty, sociable, and an interesting conversationalist..."
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G B-E-E. spelling bee.
Three pals and I attended the second annual literacy center spelling bee last night as the only spectators. As KTD explained, "Spelling is kind of like our sport."
With a steep entry fee of $300, our sad national service selves couldn't afford to enter, but we should have - seeing how we hold impromptu bees at work with words like "hobbledehoy" and "hartebeest," and we turned into total spelling snobs when words like "felony" and "bisect" were read from the podium at yesterday's official contest.
There were seven bee teams, consisting of three members each. We quickly became the groupies for the APL team, who ended up winning on the word "rhonchus." A worthy championship word, for sure.
Our tablemates made the evening even more interesting, as we were seated with the IFC (Interfraternity Council) for OU. We had lots in common, as you can imagine. Sadly, yet not surprisingly, they were the first team eliminated.
The highlights of the evening, though, were mostly from the horrible pronouncer, whose reading was so terrible that teams were given do-overs from the judges based on "pronunciation error." Emaciation became "EmaNciation." Resonant became "Resnant." These errors caused outrage on the part of APL-team dude who would yell out "That was a MISpronunciation - SAY IT AGAIN!" Lots of eye rolling and scoffing on the part of the superspellers ensued. Woah, drama.
Tension was running high at the bee, and on more than one occasion in response to protests from the crowd, the official rulebook had to be busted out. E.g. "If the team does not have a Spellagain voucher to submit for a second word, of if the team spells the second word incorrectly, the team is eliminated from the Bee." In times like these the MC would say things like, "Point of order. The judges must confer." I was dying.
Meanwhile, my pals and I spelled along at our table, proving our spelling superiority by writing down the words as they were announced and debating the correct spellings. This was our Nerd Olympics.
The competition culminated in a literacy death match known as the "spell off." When it was down to only two teams, the Newsies v. the APL superstars, the whole room erupted into the slow chant "SPELL OFF, SPELL OFF, SPELL OFF." Was this really happening?
Next time I'm in the library I'm so going to approach the circulation desk and the woman who pulled off "rhonchus" and with total admiration be all, "I saw you at the Bee. You were AMAZING!" And then I'll think, "But we SO would've destroyed you, " as I snort, push up my glasses, and adjust my pocket protector.
With a steep entry fee of $300, our sad national service selves couldn't afford to enter, but we should have - seeing how we hold impromptu bees at work with words like "hobbledehoy" and "hartebeest," and we turned into total spelling snobs when words like "felony" and "bisect" were read from the podium at yesterday's official contest.
There were seven bee teams, consisting of three members each. We quickly became the groupies for the APL team, who ended up winning on the word "rhonchus." A worthy championship word, for sure.
Our tablemates made the evening even more interesting, as we were seated with the IFC (Interfraternity Council) for OU. We had lots in common, as you can imagine. Sadly, yet not surprisingly, they were the first team eliminated.
The highlights of the evening, though, were mostly from the horrible pronouncer, whose reading was so terrible that teams were given do-overs from the judges based on "pronunciation error." Emaciation became "EmaNciation." Resonant became "Resnant." These errors caused outrage on the part of APL-team dude who would yell out "That was a MISpronunciation - SAY IT AGAIN!" Lots of eye rolling and scoffing on the part of the superspellers ensued. Woah, drama.
Tension was running high at the bee, and on more than one occasion in response to protests from the crowd, the official rulebook had to be busted out. E.g. "If the team does not have a Spellagain voucher to submit for a second word, of if the team spells the second word incorrectly, the team is eliminated from the Bee." In times like these the MC would say things like, "Point of order. The judges must confer." I was dying.
Meanwhile, my pals and I spelled along at our table, proving our spelling superiority by writing down the words as they were announced and debating the correct spellings. This was our Nerd Olympics.
The competition culminated in a literacy death match known as the "spell off." When it was down to only two teams, the Newsies v. the APL superstars, the whole room erupted into the slow chant "SPELL OFF, SPELL OFF, SPELL OFF." Was this really happening?
Next time I'm in the library I'm so going to approach the circulation desk and the woman who pulled off "rhonchus" and with total admiration be all, "I saw you at the Bee. You were AMAZING!" And then I'll think, "But we SO would've destroyed you, " as I snort, push up my glasses, and adjust my pocket protector.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Love It
TV definitely has its redeeming moments, like this. A four-part series highlighting the crisis of solid waste and our wastefulness, Dumped is one of the best things I've seen on television, oh, ever. We devoured this program - I called my mom every few minutes to make sure she was watching and still watching. Then I dreamt about it.
BBC told these people they'd be taking part in an "Eco-challenge," but they had no idea what it would be. Some speculated they'd be whisked away to a tropical paradise like Barbados for a Survivor-like experience. Their faces were priceless when they stepped off the bus into the landfill. Love it. Their challenge was to live in the landfill for three weeks, making a fairly comfortable life for themselves from the things people have thrown away. Love it more.
Although B & I pride ourselves on the relatively small amount of waste we throw "away" each week - only one small bag - watching this program has made me want to buy an even smaller "rubbish bin" and try to cut down our waste even more.
In particular, I want to be more conscious about packaging - since most of what I throw "away" each week is simply that. I also have had many excuses for not composting at our house (we're renters and can't have an outdoor pile in the yard); but I think we're finally going to stop being such bums and get a worm bin.
These are in no way new ideas for us - I just think we've finally reached the tipping point where we care enough to spend more money (a lot more) to be more responsible consumers. It's tough living at 105 percent of the poverty line, you know. (Although I've recently been wondering if my 'income' is even close to accurate anymore - since minimum wage has gotten a serious boost in OH and our stipend hasn't budged...)
Speaking of which...when I heard Bill Clinton speak a couple weeks ago, he said that Hillary, if elected, will DOUBLE the AmCorps stipend. For real? Sounds like a good plan. I was impressed that this issue was important enough to mention on the stump. It went something like this: "get out of Iraq, universal healthcare, double the stipend, eliminate No Child Left Behind." It was one of those "one of these things is not like the other" moments in terms of this-doesn't-seem-like something-most-voters-know-or-care-anything-about.... but I loved it nonetheless.
BBC told these people they'd be taking part in an "Eco-challenge," but they had no idea what it would be. Some speculated they'd be whisked away to a tropical paradise like Barbados for a Survivor-like experience. Their faces were priceless when they stepped off the bus into the landfill. Love it. Their challenge was to live in the landfill for three weeks, making a fairly comfortable life for themselves from the things people have thrown away. Love it more.
Although B & I pride ourselves on the relatively small amount of waste we throw "away" each week - only one small bag - watching this program has made me want to buy an even smaller "rubbish bin" and try to cut down our waste even more.
In particular, I want to be more conscious about packaging - since most of what I throw "away" each week is simply that. I also have had many excuses for not composting at our house (we're renters and can't have an outdoor pile in the yard); but I think we're finally going to stop being such bums and get a worm bin.
These are in no way new ideas for us - I just think we've finally reached the tipping point where we care enough to spend more money (a lot more) to be more responsible consumers. It's tough living at 105 percent of the poverty line, you know. (Although I've recently been wondering if my 'income' is even close to accurate anymore - since minimum wage has gotten a serious boost in OH and our stipend hasn't budged...)
Speaking of which...when I heard Bill Clinton speak a couple weeks ago, he said that Hillary, if elected, will DOUBLE the AmCorps stipend. For real? Sounds like a good plan. I was impressed that this issue was important enough to mention on the stump. It went something like this: "get out of Iraq, universal healthcare, double the stipend, eliminate No Child Left Behind." It was one of those "one of these things is not like the other" moments in terms of this-doesn't-seem-like something-most-voters-know-or-care-anything-about.... but I loved it nonetheless.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
A Brief Convo at Bob Evans
After our enormous breakfast during our glorious snow day yesterday:
Peppy hostess girl behind the register, to Brandon: "Hey, I remember you! I used to call you Abraham Lincoln."
Brandon: awkward chuckling...
Girl: "Do you have a kid yet?" (glances from him to me)
Me: emphatic head shaking, more awkward laughter
Girl: "Yeah, the cooks are all, 'Hey, Abe's here with his wife,' and I thought you might have brought your baby, and I had to come check it out."
Peppy hostess girl behind the register, to Brandon: "Hey, I remember you! I used to call you Abraham Lincoln."
Brandon: awkward chuckling...
Girl: "Do you have a kid yet?" (glances from him to me)
Me: emphatic head shaking, more awkward laughter
Girl: "Yeah, the cooks are all, 'Hey, Abe's here with his wife,' and I thought you might have brought your baby, and I had to come check it out."
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Primer Impacto!
I've taken up a new (and annoying) hobby - watching the Spanish language TV channel, "Univision." You know the one - on basic cable, all hidden away at number 98 or something.
Right before I've been falling asleep I'll turn it on and watch the ladies behind the news desk chatter away about violencia in Tijuana, commericials for the Pasiones, and the dudes who try to be all Anderson Cooper covering the Obama-Clinton showdown. I understand maybe .5 percent of what they're saying, yet I'll stare blankly, listening to the rolling "r's" for a rrrrridiculously long time. It's actually become a fun new game - how long will Brandon sit there while I watch the espanol before he goes crazy...
Right before I've been falling asleep I'll turn it on and watch the ladies behind the news desk chatter away about violencia in Tijuana, commericials for the Pasiones, and the dudes who try to be all Anderson Cooper covering the Obama-Clinton showdown. I understand maybe .5 percent of what they're saying, yet I'll stare blankly, listening to the rolling "r's" for a rrrrridiculously long time. It's actually become a fun new game - how long will Brandon sit there while I watch the espanol before he goes crazy...
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Yes, I have a spleen
Last night was productive, pals. We finally submitted our Peace Corps app - which really means we're just beginning a much longer application process. The best part was our preliminary health questionnaire, which asked us things like if we've ever had a goiter or gout. Or if we've ever had our retinas disconnected. Or if we have cysts on our rectums. Hilarious.
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