My faux Apartment Therapy

Thank you, Santa, for that fabulous cabbage-y votive holder, and thank you, Bean, for the runner. I wanted you to see how cute it looks.

I think I am going to move Cakes to the office and do an art grouping on this wall. We'll see how it turns out.

Our beloved associate.

President Gordon B. Hinckley

June 23, 1910 - January 27, 2008

Good news!

You can see that clip from Junebug that I talked about a couple weeks ago. It's such a beautiful scene - it will probably take a bit to load, but it's worth it, I swear. (The aspect ratio is messed up but I have no idea how to fix it - it took some doing to get it on here in the first place . . .)

A ghost cooking green beans

I know I just said I had green fatigue (and I still do, mostly), but this is a great idea from Treehugger. In North Carolina (and most of the Southeast) we are in a very serious drought, one of the worst in history, and though I'm on a well out here in the country, I'm still trying to do my part to conserve. I love this concept, though I think I would want it made of stainless steel or silicone, even, but maybe that plastic could stand up to the heat. Seems a little dubious.

(Why is that hand so ghostly white?)

For shame, part 2

I have self-diagnosed green fatigue. Just this weekend, I threw away some orange peels, a banana, two steel soup cans, and I'm getting ready to dump my compost into the trash because it's weeks old and it is going to smell to high heaven when I take off that lid. I also got one plastic Target bag last week, and I gave K & Z a paper bowl for their M&Ms this morning, which they promptly threw away, and I've been using plastic utensils (which I've chucked) every time I brought my lunch and/or breakfast this week.

The weird thing is, I don't care. When I throw it away, I feel this devilish little "so there" and I can't quite figure out what's going on in my head. I am quite embarrassed. I guess it's like anything - you do something long enough, you need a little boost to make it seem worthwhile, and when it's cold and gloomy and you're about to turn 32 years old and you have post-Christmas depression, well, it's hard to feel motivated to care about one more thing, even something that is quite a part of your life.

Everyone loves a good pop song

At the Carolina game this afternoon (sigh), I heard a super-emo remix of "Time After Time" which annoyed me at first and then I decided it was awesome. Not because Quietdrive did some fantastic spin - on the contrary, it's pretty derivative - but because it is a truly awesome pop song. There are something like 100+ covers on iTunes, and I'm sure that doesn't even come close to the number of bands and/or lounge singers who've covered it. So I started thinking about all the pop songs that I could hear over and over again, preferably in their original incarnation. This might be a too-broad definition of pop, and my songs are certainly kind of old. There are lots that might be added to the list in a few years - the whole thing is totally arbitrary. These are those I thought of tonight, and the list is totally not all-inclusive:

1. "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. Bless her orange-haired heart, she has such a weird voice and crazy close-together eyes, but that swell on "when you're lost . . ." kind of gets you every time.

2. "Stardust" by Nat King Cole. This might be cheating, because I don't actually know if pop songs per se existed in Nat's time, but it was certainly popular and, my goodness, always bears repeating. I get sucked in at the fermata "Sometimes I wonder how I spend" and then the violins that follow.

3. "Take On Me" by A-ha. They might win the prize for stupidest band name ever, but I cannot tell you how much time I spent listening to KRSP with Shannan waiting, dying for this song to come on the radio. Much screaming followed.

4. "Somebody" by Depeche Mode. This could just be my generation, but its lyrics are kind of every teenage girl's best scenario. "About the world we live in and life in general." As you do.

5. "Father Figure" by George Michael. It's not your first George Michael choice at a dance - that honor goes to "One More Try" because it's like 6 1/2 minutes long - but it has interesting chord progression (and those super great background ladies), and it's kind of unnerving in a good way. Only, it's probably better to just not listen carefully to the lyrics as an adult.

6. "Never Tear Us Apart" by INXS. This song was my favorite song for a very long time. The video was really mysterious and Parisian, and Michael Hutchence was all wandering around with his lovely blowing curls. And come on, the minor violins? So great. It's a good use of white space and phrasing, too. He loves your precious heart.

7. "Bad" by U2. I was only 8 when The Unforgettable Fire came out, so I don't know how it was on the radio, but I discovered in in high school, and the live version from Wide Awake in America is equally fantastic. I think there are probably more popular choices from The Joshua Tree, which I love, but "Bad" is one of those songs that builds beautifully and takes you right along with it until you "Suuuuuureeeeeennnnnder, dislocate" unwittingly. Hoo hoo!

8. "Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)" by Phil Collins. Phil Collins songs are all so keyboard-y and mixed kind of weird and mushy - they sound so representative of pop songs of their era. Maybe it's because we remember them from cassettes, but either way, the name of this song is some weird grammatical problem (and it has the weird parenthetical addition to the title in a sad marriage of marketing and art, no doubt) but the soaring music . . . you just can't help but be sad that "there's just the memory of your face."

9. "A Little Respect" by Erasure. I don't know that Andy Bell & Vince Clarke really wanted to write a song for teenage girls and their unrequited love, but there you go. "I'm so in love with you-u-u-u-u" indeed.

10. "She's Got a Way" by Billy Joel. Billy Joel songs are best when it's just him and the piano, his voice sounds great, and it's a quite perfect love song with one of those amusing journeys to falsetto at the end.

11. "Scarborough Fair" by Simon & Garfunkel. Is it the only song ever written about herbs? It's among the small group of songs written in 3/4 time, which makes it flow perfectly, and no matter how much better musically Paul Simon was without Art, they harmonize beautifully. Also kind of mystical and haunting. (Although, I have to say it's in a tight race with "April Come She Will" for me.)

12. "And it Stoned Me" by Van Morrison. I love how he just starts, vaults you right in. It has interesting rhythm, and though the horns are vaguely blare-y, I do love the melody and the narrative.

13. "Every Rose Has its Thorn" by Poison. Not really super deep insight there, but who can resist Bret Michaels and his giant sigh before the song even starts, like, "what follows is so heartbreaking, I can barely stand it." That's certainly how I felt listening to it a million times. "Yeah, it does."

14. "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac. Oh Stevie Nicks, and your wonderful scratchy alto. It's a perfect, perfect acoustic song - simple, but not completely prosaic, metaphors for the hard parts of being alive, those quiet mmm-mmm parts, and the musically ambiguous ending.

15. "Crazy for You" by Madonna. The thing is, you're always "dying to say" stuff to people, and it's all clichés and smoky rooms, but it's such a great melody, and the "ah, ah, ah, ahhhh" background singers totally suck you in.

For shame

I have a rich sewing heritage. I made a drawstring bag, once, made a lumpyish tie quilt, and screwed up many pieces of a chair in an upholstery class in college; everything had to be either fixed or redone by my teacher or Steph. But my mom made many prom dresses, many easter dresses, various and sundry valances, and could certainly mend anything that crossed her path. I think she even knows how to darn socks, for crying out loud. Grandma M certainly knows how to darn socks, (which, it's amazing to consider that we once kept our socks instead of going to Target and buying 15 new pairs sewn by Chinese children for $3.99), in addition to being able to sew and repair anything quickly and with great skill. I think probably 80% of Renate's wardrobe was made by her two hands, and that includes pants and jackets and blouses, and they do not look like a home-ec special. Grandma T made, among other things, matching flannel nightgowns for me and my dolls, aprons, potholders, and Bean is only running a sewing business.

So you'll see why I am so ashamed that I took my new coat and 2 fallen-off buttons and the 3 barely hanging on to the nice Asian ladies at Fashion Tailors and paid ten dollars (TEN dollars) to have them sewn on.

Places to visit in France & Italy

France:

1. Sainte-Maxime en Provence. Looks like it might be less glamorous than St. Tropez or Cannes, which is certainly appealing, but we'll get the Côte d'Azur vibe.

2. Colline Du Chateau. In or near Nice.

3. Marseilles: Notre-Dame de la Garde and Chateau d'If. Seems like that would be exciting for Dad. Sadly, I think we will be too early for the lavender - looks like summer is its season. It would be great if we could even get a taste of how gorgeous it looks and smells. This little town Valensole seems to be a good place to start.

4. 50 things to do in Paris. We can skip the alcohol- and underwear-related ones (and the Eiffel Tower, if you ask me, though I don't know if I can get out of that - I think a view from the car or the sidewalk would be fine with me). I vote yes on numbers: 11, 20, 22, 27, 30 & 38. Versailles sounds like a serious sensory overload time-eater, so I'm okay skipping it, and a big no thank you to Les Catacombes and going near any Hermes or Vuitton stores where we will look like the big Americans we are. Oh, and yes on picnicking and people-watching somewhere along the Seine, maybe where the Contessa and Captain Awkward had their little tomatoes and wine. And of course the Louvre, but not for more than 1 day.

Italy:

1. Capri. Hopefully it's an easy and inexpensive trip over from the boot (maybe involving a ferry?) and we can squeeze it in.

2. Seeing an opera in Italy. Could be a clothing problem and a pipe dream, especially with our lame weak dollar, but oh my. Could we see Otello, even? Boo, no. If only we were going in December, oh my gosh, I would die. But on Thursday, March 20th, if I am reading this half-translated by Google page right, there is a performance of Mozart's Requiem in Florence at the Teatro Verdi. That could be amazing. I can't tell if there are tickets available, but oh my. That is an overwhelmingly exciting possibility.

3. Other things to do in Florence (Firenze): Baptistery.

More to come . . .

Hot tip

There are few things I love more than folding clean sheets, as you know, but I do it in kind of a complicated way that tends to make people's eyes glaze over when I try to explain it. Also, it requires the back of a sofa.

So this girl has a great photo instruction sheet on how to make a perfect little flat package. She also has a cat on her bed while she's doing it, which . . . I love cats (even a new orange one not unlike the one in the photo) but ew to the cat hair on the clean sheets. Nonetheless, the finished size also fits inside a pillowcase; I know some people love the packet idea. Happy folding!

I'm kind of a know-it-all

And I'm forever telling people, "Did you google it?" Like, for sure the answer is out there.

Here was my problem: every night since coming home from my trip, I have had a dream that my bed is in the middle of a large room with many other beds, and though it is the middle of the night in my dream, someone needs me to get out of my bed and go somewhere else. So I sleepwalk out of bed, and stumble around for a little while until I wake up, sometimes in my closet, sometimes facing the window, sometimes by my door. Then I open the door, go look at the kitchen clock (it is usually somewhere around 3 am) and then I tell myself it's a dream and I can get back in bed. Sometimes it happens more than once per night. But it has happened every night since December 30th.

I'm thinking there has to be an answer on some kind of dream interpretation website somewhere so I google it. Here's what I find (all [sic]):

Q: do these dreams mean ther is something wrong with me? i find myself constanly having these dreams where i get out of bed while im still asleep open my eyes and walk around my room. this is not a joke its really serious!

A: well, it's possible you could be having out of body experiences...
No, there is nothing wrong with you, and nothing wrong with your dreams....

So THAT'S it. Out of body experiences. Thanks!

And PS, there is something wrong with both of us. That's why we were ASKING.

Steve Young (and his Botox) tell it like it is

Mitt Romney receives a lot of criticism for his campaign's choice to stay quiet about the Church and its doctrines. Huckabee, on the other hand, doesn't mind screaming his evangelism at every turn, which gives him some momentum and has the added benefit of making Mitt Romney look even more stoic. After General Conference in October, and Elder Ballard's and Elder Holland's talks in particular, I think I at least understand Mitt's choice in part: he doesn't want to be a spokesman; he doesn't want his words to be taken as Church doctrine. I think he's well-spoken enough (or at least cryptic enough) that there's not really too much danger in him saying something really stupid, but then again, in a moment of confrontation or debate, it might be difficult to explain something that's hard to make clear even in an ideal environment.* And his little war with Huckabee (and the entire press corps, it seems) is definitely not an ideal environment.

In the drama of public perception, though, I think it's become a damaging choice. Huckabee's religion comes across as very personal; no doubt Mitt's personal testimony runs at least as deep as Huckabee's, yet nobody can see that. He's Mr. Corporate Politician, "not running as a Mormon," which might feel true to people ambivalent about the Church, but to the haters? I think neither persona is doing much good for people who already think Mormons aren't Christian like themselves.

It's not clear how the Church leaders feel about Mitt Romney downplaying his personal beliefs, either for the reasons I've already said, or for reasons of seeking broader Christian appeal. But I do appreciate that the Church PR department is responding in appropriate ways and trying to educate the public. I don't know how many people are listening, but this movie (download) is really helpful and narrated by Steve Young, which was a good choice, unfortunate outfit notwithstanding.



*Sweet mercy, now it's all over YouTube. Here's the exchange:

Natalie Jacobsen: "Should God speak to you, and ask you to do something that might be in conflict with your duties as president, or should He speak to your prophet who would speak to you, how would you make that decision, how would you handle that?"

Romney laughs and then replies, "Well, I don't recall God speaking to me. I, I don't recall God speaking to anyone since, uh, Moses and the [burning] bush, or perhaps some others, but, but I don't have that frequent of communication."

I'm reading things like "he must not be a good Mormon because if he was, he would believe that Joseph Smith talked to God and that He talks to Gordon B. Hinckley." True, but again, it seems like the "not running as a Mormon" choice - he can't win from either side. Politically, that answer is really dodgy - a way to bring it back to the Bible and general Christianity, away from specific Mormon doctrine but still qualify it at the end there ("perhaps some others"). As a Mormon whose faith is clearly on trial, though, it's a confusing answer at best, apostate at worst. If you want to give him the benefit of the doubt (and I do), it's a horrible position to be in - neither answer is satisfying to anyone. People who want the country run by God don't think a Mormon can take care of business in that regard, and people who don't want the country run by God definitely don't want a Mormon, even one who is trying to act all nonchalant about it. He must have known it would be bad, hence the party line, but this is hard to watch.

She's never been taught to do

I'm in post-holiday depression because I live in a constant state of this equation:

Desperate Love for my home in NC ÷ Wishing for more quality time with my family X hating the plane rides ÷ Where would I live and what would I do for a career ÷ it costs a lot of money to move = Serious case of ambiguity

Then I saw Junebug on Lifetime yesterday and this scene perfectly embodies the things I love about not just living in NC, but living in Chatham County, in this neighborhood, in this culture, something I didn't know I would come to love at all. The movie was filmed in Winston-Salem, but that Fellowship Hall could be in any one of these country churches 3 miles from my house and the people and the preacher capture this place with such vivid clarity, it takes my breath away.

[edit: rats, someone took down the video. It was probably copyrighted. I can't recommend that you rent the movie because it's rated R but if you ever catch it on Lifetime, you'll know the part.]

Eventually, I am going to have to make that choice - I will either sacrifice closeness with my niece and nephews or I will have to leave this home for a very unknown career and friendship trajectory. It feels big; I hope it will feel big until it doesn't, at which point I'll have to leave it behind.