Thursday, February 28, 2008

How long halt ye between two opinions?

I am terribly fond of our FedEx man, Gene. He's from eastern NC and has that accent - a more country version of Governor Easley's. (Not to go totally off the rails, but the dialect has a lot of dropped end Rs and the O is distinctive, as compared to something of the deeper South - Georgia or Alabama, which you might hear in Southwestern NC. People outside NC would more often imitate the latter accent, I think - it's the one you hear in movies - but the Eastern NC dialect is really hard to imitate. I can't make my mouth do it, but I love to hear it.)

Anyway, I know a lot about Gene, which is sometimes funny: he's divorced, has a daughter named Lauren who's 15 and eats like a bird, his ex-wife's name is Kim, Lauren and her mother have a dog that loves him more than either of them, he drives an Acura TL, and he eats at Bojangle's and Subway almost every day. Also, he gets up at 4:30 am because he hates to be rushed in the morning, and works 12 hours most days.

Once he told me the story of his divorce, which was on account of his wife and mother-in-law (and her no-good husband) not telling him that they had put his daughter in daycare and when he found out and went to pick her up from said daycare, nobody knew who he was because of the secret. And the no-good husband showed up and raised some kind of a stink, and right about there in the story, Gene said to me, shaking his head, "And he died not too long later. He got his due, because God don't like ugly."

So the other day he came in all excited because he had just been to John & Elizabeth Edwards's new country estate, which is about 10ish miles away from here, to make a delivery. He normally has a code to enter the gate but that day there were all kinds of people and cars and Mrs. Edwards' assistant came out to meet him because the bodyguard-types wouldn't let him through the gate.

Gene told me, "I asked her, 'is somebody here? Is it Obama?' and she said, 'I'm not supposed to tell you,' but in that way where she's basically tellin' you. So, yeah, Obama was over there, I guess to get Edwards' endorsement." He shook his head and said, a little quieter and sort of nervous, "You know he's a Muslim?"

I think I said something enlightened like, "Yeah, but not that kind of Muslim, so I don't think it makes much difference." Not that I was necessarily even right, because publicly his religious affiliations are a little ambiguous anyway, and maybe they're also ambiguous in his own heart, which shouldn't be necessarily problematic for a Presidential candidate. I can believe that people think that any past or present Muslim association matters but it felt weird that Gene was telling me that, like, keep it to yourself because you never know who you're talking to. In my experience, though, this is representative of how people with good Southern manners talk about politics and religion - you say your opinion quickly, so as not to invite discussion, and move on to a less controversial topic. Don't so much discuss as state, so we know what we think but we don't need to talk about it.

But the issue of religion is always coming up in elections. I am obviously concerned about my own spiritual life and am deeply connected to one religion, but had I decided to vote for Mitt Romney (had he survived) it would have been based on my generally Republican sympathies on the causes of federalization and finance, not because he is Mormon. Plenty of people wouldn't have voted for him for that reason (plenty of people didn't, probably). Crap like this will always be the problem/blessing of democracy, but elections and their ensuing presidencies always exist in this weird Bermuda Triangle of separation of church and state/"In God We Trust"/judge them on their policies, not their religions/everyone who runs the country should be Christian. It's so complicated. I'm not even totally sure where I land, as far as how this stuff affects my vote, but publicly the noise is one doozy of a double-standard.

All told, it actually kind of surprises me that Obama has lasted as long as he has, given that people in America seem intent on evenutally dismissing candidates for the ways in which they are not exactly like every other politician. It is a logical conclusion that we have Hillary, a totally known (and therefore wholly unappealing) commodity, and McCain, also known, whose momentum seems to be based on war talk. Apparently these two don't have any secret religious feelings that might influence their decisions in office, and look safer and in keeping with political status quo. But Obama's riding great momentum with the "change" campaign, which Democrats and moderates and plenty of Republicans are totally on board with, and he is young, charismatic, and interesting, and a great orator.

But I'm not a Democrat, is the problem, and Obama's whole deal is pretty un-Republican, not that platforms totally dictate what happens in the 4 - 8 years, but he seems proactive and aggressive and like he will at least really try to make things happen quickly. I'm not saying we don't need a change, because we do, but if it comes to Obama and McCain, boy, I just don't know. I know I have many friends who are pained by that, but I have always liked McCain and I think he would be a fine president. Not a great one, but a fine one. At least this time we have viable candidates, versus the depressing outcome of last election's lesser of two crap piles option, but I feel compelled by things, people, speeches, YouTube, his pretty, pretty campaign graphic, to like Obama more. But still, days later, nothing.

Well, not nothing. But not something.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Monday, February 11, 2008

If you are in my family, this will make you very happy, Part 2

"I kind of like airline food."

I love this commercial

Really, I have no use for the NBA. It bugs me when players go pro before finishing college, because even those whose life goals wouldn't normally have been pursuing a degree at least have something to fall back on when they tear their ACL. It has to be better to have a BS in General Studies with a 2.1 GPA than sit on the bench for a year some team in Spain, right? And the NBA is the opposite of a fostering environment, and it doesn't really look like there's much love for the sport unless you play for one of the 3 winning teams or are an amoral superstar, and by then you've sold your soul anyway. Ultimately the whole drafting experience is too Pied Piperish for my taste.

Despite that, I am totally crazy about this commercial. Whoever made this one should have made all the commercials for the Super Bowl, because they had about a 6% rate of funny/awesome. Here's what I love about it: Dwyane Wade is so darling, in spite of his NBA-sized ego, the sound mixing is perfect, the shadowing on his face looks so good in black and white, and the musicians harmonize with the spoken note of his "Waaaaaaade." It helps that his name is well-suited to this kind of thing; you're not making the same commercial for Andrei Kirilenko, I'm saying.

Even people like me, who only watch competitive sports in March and when Carolina plays, know there is something just a little magical about the echo in an empty arena. When Neck (my misguided Duke fan of a brother) was here a few years ago and we went over to Cameron and somehow got inside without anyone bugging us, even I was caught up for a second in the feeling of that still, high-ceilinged place. And heaven knows I have nothing but fire and loathing for what goes on in there when it's full.

Maybe it's tonight's win talking, but I could watch this thing all day.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

If you are in my family, this will make you very happy, Part 1

"It's tucked into my socks!"

Please go here and watch. And laugh and laugh.

Friday, February 8, 2008

True story

I let Z play with my iPod this afternoon and right after he gave it back to me, it froze, I reset it and promptly got the sad frowny dead iPod face. Boo.

I blamed him secretly, but really it's been acting funky since I went to Canada last August, and on the plane ride home I turned it on and it was completely empty of music, I reset it and it all came back. It's living on borrowed time, I'm saying.

So I reset it no less than 15 times tonight, tried to get it into disk mode, left it charging for 6 hours, read a million forums and Apple support, and find one with possibly useful (force diagnostic mode), and/or possibly destructive advice (take it apart and disconnect things), and someone posted a follow-up in the thread:

"Yo,
I have just spent 2.5 hours going through every single combination to restore my girlfriends ipod mini, all very interesting and useful.

It had the unhappy face etc.

The ipod now works from one very useful piece of advice... i hit the top right hand corner quite hard against a wall.

Technology is great."

Yeah, right, I say, except 7 other people post to the thread that they all have the exact same problem and the banging worked.

Turns out? Worked for me too. We are, perhaps, into the 7th of 9 lives of this iPod. I still can't believe it.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

You can cancel my Clean House appearance

Inspired by Apartment Therapy's January Jumpstart projects, I got disgusted with the corner of my living room that has been serving as my home office, only I hadn't quite embraced that I had anything other than a (super tempermental) computer on a college-y desk. Which was surrounded by SO. MUCH. PAPER. That horrible oak bookshelf isn't mine - one time D&A were moving it from their house and I chose its storage place to be in mine, because I frankly needed the space for 1.5 years of Vogue. You can see the breaker box poking out behind it - Murch told me back then, "I don't want to have to move this thing every time one of the circuits needs flipping" which I took issue with for two reasons: 1. I told him I wasn't going to fill it with anything heavy (yeah, right) and 2. I am capable of flipping a breaker, for crying out loud. Nonetheless, he was right - it has been a terrible inconvenience to have a bookcase full of vases and Vogues in front of the breaker box.

Anyway, I persuaded DanaLee to go the 3.5 hours to the Virginia Ikea (Ee-kay-uh) with me a few Saturdays ago, and though her trip was only medium fruitful (no red bookcase for DL, boo), mine was deliciously fruitful.

In the grand tradition of b&a photos, they are kind of cheater because the after has great lighting and the before is a craphole, but let's be honest - that corner really did look like that most of the last 3 years.

BeforeAfter

I'm not kidding myself, it's not like I'm doing anything particularly innovative with the design here - the Vika desk system is probably among the cheapest furniture choices in the whole joint, but I do approve of its whiteness and the scale of the left hand portion of the L is only slightly too big. I love how I had a little space leftover to push the filing cabinet partially under the desk, because it still gives me some room for my legs when I need a workspace. I also know there are some cord-wrangling problems and I didn't touch that bulletin board yet, but I will soon, and it will also be more tidy.

Here's the thing: it feels grownup to finally have committed to an office space in my house. It's weird how at some finite point in your adulthood you realize that you have had bank accounts for more than a decade and you have things that need filing, that need organization, that your dad isn't taking care of the realities of your life anymore. I had that trunk there, on the right, that had some hanging files in it, organized in a burst a few years ago, but the space on top of the files was an 8" pile of things that ought to have been in those files. It took the better part of a week of nights to go through every single paper in that corner, and I got rid of tons of stuff, put the others in their rightful place, and even got to bust out those super fun folders Aesh (the grand poobah of such projects) got me that say "I am so Organized." For a minute, anyway, they are not ironic.

Oh, and moving Cakes over the breaker box freed up that wall, so here's what I ended up with over there. I am a little undone over the even number of things, but I can't figure out exactly what else to do. I'm not sold on the plate - it's mass produced and from Home Goods, so not particularly unique or amazing, though it's pretty, but the other 3 objects are all interesting. The orange print is from 12fifteen's etsy shop, the wonderful photo (a metallic print, so it kind of shimmers) is a Christmas gift from E&T by Linda Plaisted, whose Photoshop work I find interesting and not overmanipulated, and the the old, green Sabbath School certificate was among my many fortunes found for $36 total at the Fancy Gap Antique Mall on the way home from Little Rock. (It is, I'm sorry to say, closing, so I am glad to have found it. I love Fancy Gap. I rarely want to live pre-electricity and plumbing, but it makes me want to be a mountain woman in a big skirt and crooked cabin.)

Style-wise, I sometimes wonder if I've gone way overboard on the vintage modern inspiration. I can't get enough of AT's house tours and design*sponge's sneak peeks. My former style was whatever Pottery Barn calls itself - neutral pieces with smallish bits of color (purple for a long time). What I love now is very trendy, just like the PB look was a few years ago, and while I think vintage modern lends itself to a lot more imagination, I think I lack the editing instinct that lots of the people with the really beautiful homes have.

This one, for example, I love so much, but I know I couldn't be comfortable in her living room with its bare floor. Ultimately I'm just not tidy enough to pull off the more spare, purist vintage modern aesthetic, but I am very attracted to its odd pieces, handcrafted and funky-colored objects, and the freedom to buy old (and sometimes really cheap) furniture. I like the hunting, I like the mixing of styles, and I love groups of things. But I only have the one room to play with, and though it has many angles and walls, I have a lot going on, and maybe too many groups. I definitely feel like my personal design aesthetic is undergoing a big evolution, and maybe I'm embracing the things I love with a hair too much gusto - sort of like the vintage modern equivalent of Victoria magazine, which I subscribed to in high school and thought, at the time, that it best represented what I loved. Of course, I was stuck with hearts and flowers wallpaper and a million bouquets of dead roses, so it's easy to fit that look within the imagination of Victoria.

The point of all this is that I don't post this to brag on the design, but to brag on the organization, FINALLY, of my adulthood. I am going to be thirty freaking two years old next week. It was about time.

It's true, it's from an email forward,

and I only chose my favorite ones, but it's so awesome to rip on/love Fresno. Go Dogs!

  • You have to explain to friends from out of town what animal a "Tri-tip" comes from.
  • You think salsa goes on everything.
  • Drivers think a red light is just a suggestion.
  • Your out-of-town friends start to visit after October, but clear out before the end of April.
  • The best restaurants in town start with "El" or "Los."
  • You know a swamp cooler is not a happy hour drink.
  • People break out coats and uggs when the temperature drops below 70.
  • The pool can be warmer than you are.
  • You still don't know your way around downtown.
  • Anywhere "and 99" is too far away.
  • You drive just as fast on a sunny day in June as a foggy day in December.
  • You complain about how boring Fresno is, but still make fun of people from Sanger, Selma, Reedley, etc.
  • You never knew how you managed before River Park.
  • Someone from out-of-town talks about how foggy it is and tell them, "Just wait."
  • You know not to take Shaw at 8, 12, or 5.
  • You swear there was an orchard there last week, where now there are houses.
  • Running from the police consists of hiding in a vineyard.
  • You have "foggy" school days instead of Snow Days.
  • You classify people by which high school they go to.
  • You have Asthma.
  • You notice the best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
  • You can say 115 degrees without fainting.
  • It's a good day when the air quality is only Moderately Severe.
  • To put Fresno on the map, you mention all the famous people from here: Kevin Federline, Amber Frey, and the California Raisins.
  • After moving away, takes a full year before you stop using the club
  • When the overpasses are the only hills in town.
  • You know what Hmong means
  • There are 7 streets, in different parts of town, with the same name (Alluvial?!)
  • You know the best bagel place ever is Fresno Bagel Company [Sorry, Bean!]

Baby Charlie is already skeptical

He thinks Hillary is going to win.

(But we're so glad he joined us, even if it did involve a scalpel and a booty-first entrance.)

Monday, February 4, 2008

The Family Bed

We were never allowed to sleep with our parents, even though they had a king and our mom is like 5 foot nothing and keeps to her little corner of the bed. Instead, we had blankies (I say 'had' there like we still don't have blankies) and boom boxes with Brite music instead of our hand over our mom's face.

So yesterday in testimony meeting, this pretty cool new woman in my ward gave this confessional testimony about how when she had her caboose baby, who is 1 now (her other kids are like 11 and 9 or so), they really didn't want to buy a crib, so after she outgrew the basinette, they just gave in and put her in their bed. The thing is, this baby is a little tank - she's not chubby, exactly, but tall and solid, and both this woman and her equally cool husband are tall people.

Anyway, she was confessing that it was getting to be a nightmare so they finally gave in and bought a crib and are now trying to undo the family bed habit, and it has been really horrible for them. Which, that website says "co-sleeping actually provides a safer, sounder sleep for everyone in the household," but I just found this slide show via Apartment Therapy, and it looks like the worst night's sleep that ever was. She's in a sleeping bag! In my experience, if you're changing positions every 20 minutes, and your head is mostly off the bed, you are not getting restful sleep. I have those kind of nights, they often involve talking and walking, and I don't even have a toddler and an Elmo in bed with me. Yikes.