Tag Archives: gifts

Playing ketchup & mornings, moons, mopping

Note: the following 3+/- paragraphs were written on/around Nov 13-14.

Confession: I am playing around with audio and recording things to use in a possible audio experiment/podcast/what-have-you. When I first got your last 5things, I recorded myself reading your #1. I haven’t listened to it yet but I was thinking about how awesome it would be to do a 5things podcast, or something similar. My audio obsession has definitely stemmed from the audio letters that Joanna and I have sent each other. And she got the idea from hearing a Starlee Kine bit re: audio letters on an old This American Life ep. Which I tried relentlessly to find online, but couldn’t, and then I gave up. 

IMAGINE the possibilities. A bike tour podcast! Telling our story/stories. The sounds of the ocean. Cars rushing past. Interviews with people we meet on the road. The idea of creating an audio diary of sorts, for the road, is alluring for sure. Our words are so good, but could be even better (for a certain demographic/audience), perhaps, read out loud?!

Anyway. I’m glad you got some things figured out with your car, although it doesn’t seem like much was concluded except that it probably won’t blow up while you’re driving it? Hopefully? I’d still be mighty sketched out by anything electrical. But I am a weenie and know very little when it comes to mechanics. Just pull the damn thing over if it starts blowin’ smoke.  I loved Alan’s text message to you. Talk about a verbal hug. 

Proud of you for hanging in there, even when the (job-hunt-lifestuffs) going feels extraordinarily tough. You got this.

13 Tiny Things • Sunday/Monday • November 13/14 until present • 2011
  1. Playin NERTS with Claire, Katherine, Laura and Chris
  2. Hangover
  3. Updating the blog(s)
  4. Room-cleaning for carpet cleaners; clean soggy carpet
  5. Thinking of change
  6. Needing a rake
  7. Listening to Radio Lab nonstop
  8. Watercoloring
  9. Occupy madness
  10. Gotye’s music videos on Vimeo
  11. I went to NYC/Philly for Day of Thanks!
  12. You had a birthday!
  13. You got a new job!

Charlotte the person with Charlotte the tree, in Brooklyn. (Sorry for making Charlotte walk on your soil for a silly picture, tree.)

But okay! Here we are, back in the present. That is, December 10, a Saturday, 2011. It’s 10:48 a.m. and I’ve been up for over three hours! I love getting up early. I sense that (at least right now in our lives) we are very different in the morning person vs. night owl conundrum. Although I think we both find pockets of time where what we thought was true about our “tendencies” begins to shift, and you might find yourself getting up early and how refreshing it is (Okay, maybe not while you have this particular new job), while I, at times, put away my fear of the dark and being alone and stay up all night creating things. 

5 things before 11 a.m. • December 10 • 2011

  1. The lunar eclipse and Adrienne/Santine. I set two alarms last night: one for 6:45 a.m. and another for 7. I awoke to the last one and the air outside was just barely beginning to lighten. I knew if I wanted to catch a glimpse of 2011’s second lunar eclipse, I’d have to haul myself down from my cozy loft. Which I proceeded to do, groggily, and bundled up in the front room, grabbing my camera and schlunking my feet into snow boots before heading outside. Crisp and frigid, the sky was hazy with inversion. Bummer. But wait! There! Look! Above the rooftops, low on the horizon, peeking through neighbor trees on the northwest end of the driveway, was the moon. It was shrouded in a dusty pink veil of smog, which bummed me out, but I could see it, approaching its near-full eclipse! I headed up the driveway, intent on finding a “darker” part of the street (we have a pesky nighttime street lamp next to our mailbox that previous housemates and I have joked about “accidentally” throwing a rock at). There I was, trudging up the driveway at 7:15 a.m., and there was Adrienne (sp?) also out looking at the moon, our lovely neighbor! She was accompanied by her aging, wise shepherd mix named Santine (sp?). “Good morning!” she said. “Isn’t it beautiful?” I agreed, half-awake, but braced against the cold and acutely aware of what we’d both been lucky enough to witness. I know these things come around every few years, but it’s becoming more rare that I’m actually awake to see one. Adrienne said she was out earlier and caught it higher up int the sky, just beginning its eclipse, looking like a half-smile. I remarked on how smoggy the air was, and Adrienne said, “I know. I was going to try to get somewhere higher up so I could see it better. But that would have meant getting into my car and driving somewhere, and I was worried I’d miss it. So I just stayed here.”
  2. So, on Monday, they’re shutting down all of the ports on the West Coast?I feel like I need to do some serious catch-up on the OWS movement. For a while it was all anyone was talking about, especially around the national bust-up, and then it seems like things have “calmed down” a bit – although I know (and am thankful that) the movement still continues. I want to participate in marches and meetings, and am also tied down to my 10-6 workweek, which on most days leaves little energy or time for activism. But every little bit counts I guess. It’s a challenge for me to balance time away from things like Facebook when there are important news bits circulating which I feel like only gain attention on or with the assistance of Facebook. I’ve been reading about the ILWU and the other labor unions, the contradicting interviews and opinions in many confusing news articles, how the unions feel about the shut-down, and how seemingly tricky and messy this “Day of Action” will feel if OWS protesters and the labor unions aren’t first in complete agreement and solidarity. This is all very good Saturday morning fodder for my active brain…

    The "London Fog"

  3. It is winter-time. It’s the time of hibernation, storage, constantly seeking warmth and comforting nourishment, grains, dried fruit, oatmeal, hot beverages ’round the clock (this tiny bladder requires trips to the bathroom every hour), snow- and gasoline-laden air on prickly-cold mornings, twinkling lights up and down the streets, and avoiding the mall. Among many other things. ‘Tis the season for my family not to exchange (many) gifts this year! I’m feeling thankful for this. Charlotte, Mom, Dad and I are heading to southern Utah (Moab area) to stay in a little cabin, make good food, drink good coffee, spend hours at the bookstore, take hikes with Lucy, and enjoy each other’s company. We are not getting a tree (although I kind of want to find a small rosemary shrub for the cabin). I do want to bake or make tiny cards or something – tokens of my love for people that I love. On my bike rides to and from work, and especially home from work these days (as it gets dark at 4:45), I see vignettes of the season and keep them in my brain for when I sit down and draw. I want to draw, for instance, the small window I saw on 800 E riding home in the dark last night. It was a triptych of three windows, all three lined with little white lights.
  4. I just made Maybe The Perfect Breakfast. Boiled the potatoes, but not for too long, adding them to sauteed onions, cumin, the rest of my chili powder from Cali’s and a dusting of poultry seasoning, which was an unexpectedly delicious addition. Two perfectly fried eggs, yolks still a bit runny, cooked “dirty” with the remaining spices in the skillet. Accompanied by an abundance of fresh cut fruit from a party for mom’s last class at the U this week. Pardon my sailor speak, but I f*cking love breakfast.

    Eggs from the chickens

     

  5. Sunny winter mornings are for Housewife Emily; the end of an era. I got a wild hare (after my two cups of coffee kicked in) and decided to wipe the counters and table, then sweep and mop the floor. Multi-tasker that I am, I started the counters while the potatoes were boiling, then finished everything after I’d eaten. It feels really good to clean our kitchen so early in the morning! I highly recommend it. The kitchen is my favorite part of my house. Big News This Week is we are all moving out on February 1, which means over the next month or so we’ll all have to sort through our belongings in common areas. Most of the kitchen stuff is mine! I’ve been hoarding thrifted kitchen items for the last two years. Maybe time to get rid of some/all of it. We are thinking about having an indoor tag sale type thing (okay, maybe I’m the only one thinking of this so far?), which would be nice, because I like giving/selling things to friends and people I know. 
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A Very Special 5 Things!

Okay, blog-readers. I will let you in on a little secret. Normally, Mary and I exchange our 5 things via email to each other, so we can read through the day’s/week’s happenings and get a feel for the recent news before it goes live on the blog. Because this is a project we started together, I think this practice is nice and important.

But! It’s MARY’S BIRTHDAY today! So guess what, homies. This jawn is a surprise.

Thanksgiving themed fodder: Thanks for sticking with us. These are crazy times, indeed. I’m not “just saying that.” Look around you! Crazy times. We are all feeling it. I am especially feeling (and am thankful for) the listening, hugging and general “It’s going to be okay, we got this” vibe from friends and loved ones. Thanks.

5 things I could write about today:

  1. 5 things I appreciate about this week
  2. 5 things I have realized this month
  3. 5 things I look forward to in 2012
  4. 5 things I want Mary to have on her birthday
  5. 5 things I love about Mary

I think I’ll just stick with a Combo Deal: #s 4 & 5. Without further ado…

5 birthday-themed word-morsels (for Mary) • Saturday, December 3 • 2011

  1. Banana-times

    This is a picture I took the morning of one of the first bike rides Mary and I ever took together. We are headed to the Salt Lake Marina. Just before we parted ways for the day, we marveled at the fact that we had just spent 7+ hours biking and talking together with joy and ease. Mary (like me) has a certain piety for and devotion to riding bikes, no matter the distance, destination or purpose. For her birthday, may she receive at least one awesome, joyous bike ride this week, and many more to come (of course).

  2. Dog party

    Dogs all around, all the time! This is a photo of Sarge, Lucifer and Copper. They are dog-friends. They hung out together on this May day, a few weeks before Mary moved to Portland. I love this photo of camraderie and secret agendas. Sarge is obviously plotting something. Copper just wants to belong. And Lucifer appears to be off in his own world, wondering how he got smooshed (again) between two young hyperactive pups. For her birthday, may Mary receive at least one frolic (if not many) with Lucifer and other friend-pups.

  3. Nectar of the gods/goddesses/gender-neutral term for holy beings

    COFFEE. Road coffee, diner coffee, backyard coffee. Garbage coffee, garage coffee, cowboy coffee. Camp coffee, house coffee, field coffee. Early morning coffee, midnight coffee, all-day coffee. French press coffee, pour-over coffee, Italian coffee. Spendy coffee, cheap coffee, proletariat coffee. Whole bean coffee, ground coffee, broken coffee. Perfect coffee, bad coffee, just-right coffee. For her birthday, may she receive a great cup of coffee.

  4. Surrounded by goodness

    This is a picture of Mary writing out a Stereolab playlist (for her lucky girlfriend) while simultaneously eating a jalapeno-mango sausage hoagie. I think it’s pretty badass.  Wait, it would only be more badass if that glass next to her was filled with some gnarly beer. But we can pretend, right? Either way, for her birthday, may she receive Stereolab, loudly, and as many sophisticated, foodie, hot dog-esque creations as she’d like.

  5. Life Essentials 101

    Mary and I like to video chat. This is one of the first times we video-chatted. We both happened to be wearing grey hoodies with white drawstrings. We also both happened to be drinking stouts. It was this hilarious moment of unplanned synchronicity that I feel is important to document. We’ve had a lot of similar moments since then. For her birthday, may she receive beloved grey hoodies that are lost in Buffalo Exchanges and then miraculously found again, and the warmth that comes from said sweatshirts, not to mention from drinking chocolate stout.

Happy muthaflippin’ birthday, Mary. ♥

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Five Things I Miss About My Mother:

October 10th 2011 is the two-year anniversary of my mothers passing, which feels like a terribly personal thing to post on the Internet.  I wonder why that is, or why I feel such a strong aversion to posting personal things in general.  I mean, we are all going to die, right?  I’ll say it to your face.  “YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.”  So what?  My mom died, big deal. But it is a big deal.  There was a This American Life episode about break-ups.  One of the first segments talked about how everyone deals with heartbreak, but it has this amazing ability to feel like the most isolating thing that has ever happened, EVER.  And there is NO WAY that anyone could possibly relate to that, or come close to understanding, EVER.  Well, losing someone close to you is a little like that too.  And by a little, I mean it’s like that x10.  The feeling of loss surrounds you in a dream-like cloud.  People avoid talking to you because they don’t know what to say, and it would make you feel like a leper if you had the presence to actually notice.  And the word “sorry” just starts to sound mechanical and theatrical, acted out, scripted, and you stand numbly at the church/funeral home and shake hands and hug and cry and pat backs and touch everyone who is still alive and you wonder why you still are too.  And then, you tell everyone “thank you for coming to this/ your concern/the pie/ the casserole/the booze”, and eventually everyone goes home and leaves you alone in your own special grief.   And there is really no way to express what all of this means, and you just muddle through it.  It gets easier, but the birthdays of the deceased are important and noticeable, as well as the death-iversary, which is today.

To commemorate this occasion, this post is for her.  This is about the mother as I knew her as a recent event.  The Adult Mother who is the Friend and the Family and the Matron and the Glue.

  1.  My mom had a thing for churches.  She isn’t necessarily religious or denominational, but she was spiritual in a lot of ways.  And by saying she was spiritual, there’s some complex layering.   She

    Red doors.

    definitely liked the iconography and the architecture, and she liked the reverence.  She was raised a Catholic, but I wasn’t.  She died a Catholic, but I will not.  I actually know very little about Catholicism, which feels strange considering I’ve been around it so much.  But that is the nice thing about it, is that I am no more familiar with Catholicism than I am with being Episcopalian, or Southern Baptist, or a Hare Krishna.  She loved the feeling of a church, the history of a church, the space given to worship.  She liked candles and Saints and her house was filled with prints and paintings and little statues.  You know what she didn’t like?  Mormons.  But the only ill words I heard her say about them was in conflict with her job as a middle-school teacher, where to be the only non-Mormon was exceptionally difficult and branding.  She was hurt for being ostracized.  But, imperfectly and perfectly, she embodied what it meant to be accepting and open, and emulated what could be considered “Christ-like” love and acceptance.  When she found out her daughter was gay, she was upset at first, but then attacked the concept with a vengeance.  She joined P-FLAG and marched in parades.  She researched.  She put a rainbow flag key chain on her keys.  She told me that the key chain was a signal, it marked her as safe to approach to any of her students who may be questioning their sexuality.  This approach worked.  She not only was my mother, but she became a mother and mentor to those who weren’t accepted in their homes or families, kids around the house with nowhere else to go.  It’s easy to canonize her with all of her enlightenment and unconditional love, but she was also human, and had bouts of condition and sometimes pushed too hard.  Oh, and then there’s the part where people often thought she was nuts.

  2. She liked to shop.  And buy.  Speaking as a non-shopper, it drove me crazy, but I also kind of got over it.  We had a deal for Christmas time where she would buy something that she could “see me in” or that she wanted me to like, but knew I would not.  So she would buy it, wrap it, give it to me with all the tags on it.  I would unwrap it, and put it on so as to give her the satisfaction of seeing me dress the way she wanted me to, and at the end of the day I would take the garment off and give it back, whereas she would return it and give me the money/store credit.

    I don't know what year this was. I want to say 1998 or so.

    But sometimes we’d go to thrift stores together and she would give me good critiques, whether or not something fit well, or if the old-timey camp shirt over/under-accentuated my shoulders/boobs/butt/hips/belly.  She loved wearing blazers and had more coats than any one person should.  She wore them well.  In the middle of winter I would walk to Kathrine and Jacobs house two blocks away and borrow a large wool coat with a native american print.  It was like wearing a blanket.  When I lived with Julie in Seattle, she sent us three Snuggies in the mail.  Two for Julie and I, and then a third for “when we had a friend over so they wouldn’t feel left out” (as an aside, that friend was usually Nic.  He was a great sport about it.).

  3. She was a great cook and loved food.  She never really got into the idea of “healthy” food options, feeling fine about using Kroger-brand canned something as a base for something else, or not buying “organic”, but then the way she could combine things would make me feel like I was eating the healthiest meal imaginable and following it up with Keebler Elf cookies that were always on the shelf.  She kept Chris and I well fed.  We went out to eat once at Long Life Vegi House in Salt Lake, and by the end of her meal, she was touching everyone else’s plate and licking the sauces off the ends of her fingers in such succession that she seemed to have more than two arms, one hand in the wheat-meat “beef” sauce and the other licking the Kung Pao “chicken” off of her wrist chattering the whole time.  In the hospital she was obsessed with the cooking shows, from Paula Deen to Iron Chef.
  4. She was a weird/hard communicator, but always had a gift with people.  I mean, most mothers can be difficult, and can get under one’s skin in the worst ways that only a mother can do, but she also taught me the patience and forbearance and listening skills based on her weird way of communicating.  She would engage with strangers all of the time, which I grew to appreciate, though often the topics were often socially inappropriate.  Once I introduced her to someone I was dating and she immediately gave them raisins and compared the size and shape of the raisins to rat tumors, which understandably scared the shit out of my date.  When she was in the early stages of her illness, she would lament to the cashier working the graveyard shift (when we would do the shopping) and she would tell the poor cashier about all of her cancer drugs and side effects and how much gas she has.

    I actually really, really love this picture of her, as she was in the best mood this day. 2009.

    Her and Chris came to see me in Seattle, and she immediately took over the traffic circle in front of my house, and spent her vacation weeding and cleaning up, which made her a huge hit in the neighborhood.  I mean, people I only knew by sight were knocking on the door and asking her and Chris to dinner.  Even in the hospital, she was the favorite of all of her doctors and nurses.  She exuded light even in her weakened physical state.  She was positive and witty, even at the very end.

    The Red Tent was one of our "Book Club" books. I love that she used it in that years' class picture. 2004.

  5. I miss the hours we spent in front of the tv together, which is such a gluttonous idea to me in my adult life, but had always been used in the household, sometimes for education, sometimes for entertainment.  Sunday dinners consisted of dinner and the Sunday night episode of Felicity on the WB.  She loved Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly, but she really, really LOVED Xena the Warrior Princess(she once told me that the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle helped her understand me better).  We stayed up countless nights watching historical dramas and all of the Audrey Hepburn movies that she ever made.  We loved Wallace & Gromit and Cate Blanchett and Saturday Night Live and So You Think You Can Dance? and most things directed by Tom Tykwer.  We didn’t always agree, and if she were still alive I would give her such shit for making me watch Yentl, which I really hated.  Even with all of the tv watching, we both also devoured books.  When I moved away, we would pick books to read and talk about them on the phone, like sort of a long-distance book club.  I miss that a lot.

And I miss her for more than 5 reasons.  It’s crazy how she’s always around, and by her just being in my memory it continues to shape me.  I want to say it makes me a better person, but who knows? I just do the best I can.  Don’t we all?

Five of the simple things I miss about her are: 1. Her laugh and the sound of her voice 2. The way she moved through the world in her physical body.  The way she walked and moved and touched things as she walked by them.  3. The way she was good at plants and loved roses. 4.  The way she had roundabout conversations, the ability to pick up a conversation back up a week later (this took years of practice).  5. The twinkle in her eyes, surrounded by the crows feet wrinkles of someone who smiled a lot.

To make a heavy topic seem a little lighter here is a Garfield comic from Finland(I think?)  It was hanging on the wall of Mississippi Records and it made me feel awesome inside.  Garfield really speaks to me these days.

(WHAT ARE THEY SAYING?)

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