In my two-week quest for relevant, helpful organizational tools, I've picked up some books I've not yet read, read some blog entries that have been less than helpful, attempted to wrap my brain around the idea of what I want my organized life to look like, and stumbled across some promising little helpers.
One of the elements that I desperately want is a single space for all of my public online resources, that also allows me to access the private ones -- a personal homepage, if you will, that doesn't require a password to access. Facebook is useful for people who have accounts, but not everyone does, and the privacy settings are comprehensively adaptable but not overly easy to access or test. The LinkedIn interface is so convoluted and irritating that I still haven't forced myself to use it. I don't draw many lines between "personal and professional" lives, or between thoughts and ideas for "family" rather than "friends" (apart from my private, snark-filled journal full of sailor-mouthed profanity -- there are some things my mother really doesn't need to read!) -- I'm a whole person and think that the transparency of presenting my life as such gives me more credibility and professionalism rather than less, with the added bonus of making me more fun to be around (or less, depending on your perspective of fun, I suppose) -- so having a single website that I could direct anyone to would be immensely useful. Yes, I know, given my website-creation skills I *could* build one for myself, but it's one of a million things I just haven't gotten around to yet.
Why I didn't think to start with Google to seek such a thing I don't quite understand - there are few ways in which the Almighty Google has ever failed me.*
Anyway, I now have a new homepage, of sorts, which is now the link provided on my email signature and all of my various social-networking info pages, and will be printed on my next batch of MOO minicards.
Note that if I have your address in my gmail address book and I've designated you as a human being ather than a spambot, you can access my address and cell phone number from the contact tab. No more crying about "I didn't know how to reach you, so I couldn''t call!"
I'm also working on a tagging system for my sparkly new Delicious account. I've always been terrible at labeling things properly, so this is going to take some trial and error, and recalling all of the various places I've scribbled links that I need to keep track of (old blog posts, margins of my hard copy address book, legal pads in my office, etc) so that I can get them listed there. Should be a fun project for the ridiculously stifling days of summer when it's too hot to do anything but laze around the house sipping lemonade - and thus not one I need to think about in the short term.
Yay, solutions. Now to add "reading the book about getting things done" to my to do list. Irony never fails to amuse.
* Just one, actually: an absolute inability to turn up details (or indeed, any mention of) the legend upon which J.K. Rowling based The Veil and the actions of Sirius Black's death in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix; it's neither Greek nor Roman nor Hebrew, and the style is inconsistent with Celtic and Norse mythology, which means (given my education and exposure to details of nonWestern cultures) it's probably Sumerian or Central African in origin (the former more likely than the latter) and I just haven't been able to track it down. My best friend and favorite professor both recall that the veil and the actions are not original, so I know I'm not imagining things, we just none of us can recall the reference. And JKR isn't talking.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Just Once I'd Like to Fail
Just left the Pulp-a-thon fundraiser for the Lesbian Herstory Archives' endowment fund - fantastically fun, creative afternoon. I met some intelligent, engaging women, read some terrifically funny stories (illegal lesbian pulp romances from the 1950s -edgy and original for their time no matter how cringe-inducing they are now), made some all-dyke plans over the next few weeks, culminating in Pride week. Have contacts for Relay Over the Rainbow, even.
But the post-introduction, pre-conversation question asked of me was almost universally, "are you a lesbian?" followed by, "oh good - you pass, so I wanted to check." Considering the salaciousness of the commentary, I understand the desire to a) not offend and b) not embarrass oneself. But really, now, I wouldn't mind a big fat FAIL at passing.
First published at TheNines
But the post-introduction, pre-conversation question asked of me was almost universally, "are you a lesbian?" followed by, "oh good - you pass, so I wanted to check." Considering the salaciousness of the commentary, I understand the desire to a) not offend and b) not embarrass oneself. But really, now, I wouldn't mind a big fat FAIL at passing.
First published at TheNines
Friday, May 29, 2009
Pride
I'm poring over the calendar, making reservations for pulp-a-thon, lectures, history tours, gatherings, and the march for Pride week. Anyone coming in from out of town want to tag along?
First published at NYC to the Nines
First published at NYC to the Nines
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Chasing the loup-garou
In 2003, I enjoyed a short stint in grad school. I was studying comp and rhetoric with a sub-focus on writing, and took as many craft classes as I could handle. There was something powerful about honing the ability to turn a phrase, to tell a story by evoking mood and twisting intent. Masters programs are ridiculously short; midway through my first semester I started exploring the work I would need to do to turn out a fully drafted and crafted novel as the capstone for a creative writing program.
I still have that story kicking around in my skull - the idea of turning a fairy tale on it's head and breaking apart the warnings to expose the real story, using it as a metaphor for ordinary life.
"Hey there little red riding hood" was an advertisement - for a particularly unfeminine brand of alcohol, if I recall correctly - and among other things, it inspired me to look at the idea of the Little Red fairy tale and ask some difficult questions.
Little Red is warned not to stray from the path, to avoid anything but previously marked territory. The threat is "to be stolen," to be taken away from the familiar to be forcibly removed from comfort, to be consumed by the unknown and rendered dead to the world that was left behind. The threat was a wolf - insatiably hungry, bent on destruction, unavoidable if one were to stray.
But the wolf's actions weren't one of mere destruction; he seduced his prey. He didn't just chase down and devour the girl-child in the woods, where he had the distinct advantage, he deviously tricked her - and she, truly innocent and inexperienced, or perhaps willfully blind, ignored the warning bells in her head and followed willingly where he led.
What does that say about desire? What does that say about a) what we want, b) what we fear), c) the point where want and fear intersect? What do those fears and desires bode for our opportunity to grasp at happiness?
There's a story there, about a woman who scorned the trodden path and a Wolf she chose to follow and the cost of choices and the reality found at the other side of the unfamiliar. That's a story that I very much want to discover, and tell.
So the question. Can I remember how to write, in order to pen a 60-page novella in 5 minutes a day? Susan and Clay believe that I can. Do I believe it myself?
First published at NYC to the Nines
I still have that story kicking around in my skull - the idea of turning a fairy tale on it's head and breaking apart the warnings to expose the real story, using it as a metaphor for ordinary life.
"Hey there little red riding hood" was an advertisement - for a particularly unfeminine brand of alcohol, if I recall correctly - and among other things, it inspired me to look at the idea of the Little Red fairy tale and ask some difficult questions.
Little Red is warned not to stray from the path, to avoid anything but previously marked territory. The threat is "to be stolen," to be taken away from the familiar to be forcibly removed from comfort, to be consumed by the unknown and rendered dead to the world that was left behind. The threat was a wolf - insatiably hungry, bent on destruction, unavoidable if one were to stray.
But the wolf's actions weren't one of mere destruction; he seduced his prey. He didn't just chase down and devour the girl-child in the woods, where he had the distinct advantage, he deviously tricked her - and she, truly innocent and inexperienced, or perhaps willfully blind, ignored the warning bells in her head and followed willingly where he led.
What does that say about desire? What does that say about a) what we want, b) what we fear), c) the point where want and fear intersect? What do those fears and desires bode for our opportunity to grasp at happiness?
There's a story there, about a woman who scorned the trodden path and a Wolf she chose to follow and the cost of choices and the reality found at the other side of the unfamiliar. That's a story that I very much want to discover, and tell.
So the question. Can I remember how to write, in order to pen a 60-page novella in 5 minutes a day? Susan and Clay believe that I can. Do I believe it myself?
First published at NYC to the Nines
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Simple Fare
I love to cook, but don't have the time to devote to planning, prepping, and cooking meals every day -- I live alone, therefore feed one, and the time-suck just isn't practical. Rather than go the route of eating out more often than not, I devote an afternoon or evening each week to batch cooking -- making dishes that hold up well as "leftovers" and taste better after the flavors have a chance to mingle for a bit.
I've been talking about food quite a bit over the last few days, generally with colleagues who sigh enviously over my perceived culinary creativity. I figured it makes sense to share my superb chicken salad "recipe" -- a prep method so easy that even a total novice cook can mix it up quickly.
Seriously resist the urge to serve for two days. By all means taste and be sure the flavor ratio is correct, but then cover the bowl (a lid is best, but plastic wrap will work) and place it in the fridge. Don't touch it for 48 hours. When the proper time has elapsed, serve in any number of ways. My personal favorites:
Enjoy!
First published at NYC to the Nines
I've been talking about food quite a bit over the last few days, generally with colleagues who sigh enviously over my perceived culinary creativity. I figured it makes sense to share my superb chicken salad "recipe" -- a prep method so easy that even a total novice cook can mix it up quickly.
- You need cooked chicken. You can pick up a fully cooked rotisserie at the market and carve/shred the meat, or pull apart leftovers from a roast or fried/baked/grilled chicken dinner. If you don't have leftovers available, my favorite method is to cover thin, boneleess cutlets with a cajun rub (I make my own, but any premixed blend will do) and bake, then cube them while still warm. Regardless of how you prepare the chicken, place the shredded or cubed pieces into a large bowl. However much you have on hand is fine.
- Finely chop celery and toss it in the bowl. You should have approximately 1 part celery to 2 parts chicken.
- Slice seedless red grapes in half -- quarter them if particularly large -- and toss into the bowl. Amount should be roughly equal to the celery.
- Grind black pepper and sea salt over the chicken/celery/grapes and stir to mix.
- In a small bowl, combine equal parts mayonnaise and horseradish mustard until thoroughly blended. Stir into the chicken/celery/grapes to coat all pieces. I use the binders in a quantity that just holds the salad together -- not enough to make it even slightly "wet." Err on the side of too little -- you can always add more.
- Roughly chop toasted pecans -- I always use a handful, regardless of how much salad I'm making -- and gently mix into the salad. Don't stir too vigourously or you'll a) pulverize the nuts and b) smash the grapes.
Seriously resist the urge to serve for two days. By all means taste and be sure the flavor ratio is correct, but then cover the bowl (a lid is best, but plastic wrap will work) and place it in the fridge. Don't touch it for 48 hours. When the proper time has elapsed, serve in any number of ways. My personal favorites:
- Drizzle mesclun mix with a tiny bit of black pepper-infused olive oil and toss. Layer the mesclun in salad bowls, spoon chicken salad over the top, and serve with fresh-from-the-oven bread (corn bread muffins are particularly delightful) and warm fruit (berry compote or baked apples are both fabulous with this -- go light on the sugar with both).
- For a great "to go" lunch, line pita pockets with boston lettuce and a pinch of crumbled bacon, then fill with chicken salad. Wrap very tightly so that the pita doesn't fall apart. If I pack this sandwich for a workday lunch, I'll also bring sliced vegetables (carrots and red pepper, usually) and a small piece of very good chocolate. It does require a slightly more robust beverage than plain water, though; juice spritzers are great.
Enjoy!
First published at NYC to the Nines
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
liberty and justice for all
Again and again, for millennia, we humans have failed to understand this: "all" doesn't mean "just the people I like." All doesn't mean "just the people who agree with me." It doesn't mean "only the people who look like me," or "just people related to me," or "this one particular group of people who believe what I believe." It doesn't mean "just those willing to follow my rules."
All means All -- every single person, no exceptions.
All is hard. All is painful. All is big and scary and asks that we be open and warm and vulnerable and welcoming and impossibly, improbably, astoundingly brave.
Over and over again, we fail.
A ruling on Proposition 8 was issued by the California Supreme Court. For those who are unaware, Proposition 8 was a ballot proposition in the state of California during the last general election (November 4, 2008), which determined by popular vote that the state constitution should be changed to define secular marriage as a state reserved for two people of different genders.
Some people have the right to marry. Some people have the right to accept responsibility for one another, to form one household, to be legally bound to care for one another in sickness and in health, to bear the burdens of the other, to lift up and hope with and carry forth with and love the other. Some is not all.
The California Supreme Court didn't actually rule today on whether banning equal marriage was unconstitutional, they ruled on whether or not the people of the state of California had the right to put to a popular vote the words of their constitution, had the right to change the laws which govern each of them and their neighbors. They voted that yes, individuals have the right to sway the government - which means that individuals also have the responsibility to exercise that right for the benefit of all.
To remove a few clauses from a particular statement we all memorized as children, in order to simplify it down a little:
Those are the important words.
Every time the powers of this nation hold down one, every time the wheels of state turn the rack on some, every time the majority of us turn our backs on the few or the powerful claim superiority over the weak, we fail to be All. When it happens once, when it happens anywhere, every single one of us fails.
Today, the Supreme Court told the people of California that they have the right to change a law; with that right they have the responsibility to govern themselves, to create a system of equality where privilege is called by it's rightful name and everyone is given a fair opportunity at liberty and justice.
We all have that right. We all have that responsibility. We all have work to do, because we all can do better.
We all can be better.
First published at NYC to the Nines
All means All -- every single person, no exceptions.
All is hard. All is painful. All is big and scary and asks that we be open and warm and vulnerable and welcoming and impossibly, improbably, astoundingly brave.
Over and over again, we fail.
A ruling on Proposition 8 was issued by the California Supreme Court. For those who are unaware, Proposition 8 was a ballot proposition in the state of California during the last general election (November 4, 2008), which determined by popular vote that the state constitution should be changed to define secular marriage as a state reserved for two people of different genders.
Some people have the right to marry. Some people have the right to accept responsibility for one another, to form one household, to be legally bound to care for one another in sickness and in health, to bear the burdens of the other, to lift up and hope with and carry forth with and love the other. Some is not all.
The California Supreme Court didn't actually rule today on whether banning equal marriage was unconstitutional, they ruled on whether or not the people of the state of California had the right to put to a popular vote the words of their constitution, had the right to change the laws which govern each of them and their neighbors. They voted that yes, individuals have the right to sway the government - which means that individuals also have the responsibility to exercise that right for the benefit of all.
To remove a few clauses from a particular statement we all memorized as children, in order to simplify it down a little:
I pledge allegiance to liberty and justice for all.
Those are the important words.
Every time the powers of this nation hold down one, every time the wheels of state turn the rack on some, every time the majority of us turn our backs on the few or the powerful claim superiority over the weak, we fail to be All. When it happens once, when it happens anywhere, every single one of us fails.
Today, the Supreme Court told the people of California that they have the right to change a law; with that right they have the responsibility to govern themselves, to create a system of equality where privilege is called by it's rightful name and everyone is given a fair opportunity at liberty and justice.
We all have that right. We all have that responsibility. We all have work to do, because we all can do better.
We all can be better.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Monday, May 25, 2009
Week-End with Charlie
The craziness of my super-awesome job being what it is, this is my third year of not being able to enjoy any of the "stress-free" long weekends as they're intended -- minibreaks from work responsibilities and such. I always have major deadlines that bookend Presidents Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, and Columbus Day. I should really talk to someone about that, but it never occurs to me until the Wednesday before, when everyone's talking about fun plans and I'm in a hyper-caffeinated state of panic. Ah well, I take most of December off for fun and frolicking (I *will* find a sledding location and snow within NYC if it kills me) so it balances in the end.
That said, I was able to enjoy much of Memorial Day Weekend. Drinks with Clay on Friday evening and some surreptitious gawking at the sailors, traipsing around Hoboken and SoHo on Saturday (Purl and Purl Patchwork are now at the top of my list of favorite textiles shops ever -- Phoebe, you would die a little over some of the yarn), and my first yoga class yesterday. And, of course, some meditations on the meaning of the day; military and service-focused holidays are always particularly hard.
I also got to test one of my 3/50 project purchases. Last Friday I popped into Green in Brooklyn to pick up some eco-friendly laundry soap. Since I have to carry the stuff a long block to services, I wanted to try a powder detergent rather than liquid for portability purposes. Elissa very knowledgeably guided me toward Charlie's Soap Laundry Powder and I have completely fallen in love. Biodegradable. Hypoallergenic. Fragrance-free -- it just smells like soap. It's softening; requires no additional fabric softener. 1 tablespoon needed per load of laundry. It comes in a little cloth bag with a tie-top.
And It Works. Beautifully clean, crisp, fresh bed linens are my most reckless tactile indulgence -- I would change my linens every day (and iron the new set) if I had the time/energy/didn't have to walk to the launderette -- and this detergent ensures that they're soft and fresh, and even encourages wrinkles to shake out. My clothes are ridiculously soft -- even semi-structured things like jeans and fitted-waist skirts just float into place.
AND. And. It's superbly wonderful for handwashing delicate fabrics. I actually hand-washed two entire loads of laundry this morning, because it was so easy to swirl and swish to wash, rinse clear and clean quickly, wring to dry, and hang over the rack in my kitchen. (I swear that I don't make a habit of hand-washing all of my clothes, but I didn't realize most of the shops -- including the launderette -- would be closed for the holiday; I meant to handle a few necessities, but it was just so easy to keep going!)
I think I've just been pwnd by a product. For the first time since ... well, okay, since Starbucks got me last week with the dirty chai, but before that it's been at least 15 years since the Cool Ranch Doritos phase. Only *this* one I don't feel guilty about.
First published at NYC to the Nines
That said, I was able to enjoy much of Memorial Day Weekend. Drinks with Clay on Friday evening and some surreptitious gawking at the sailors, traipsing around Hoboken and SoHo on Saturday (Purl and Purl Patchwork are now at the top of my list of favorite textiles shops ever -- Phoebe, you would die a little over some of the yarn), and my first yoga class yesterday. And, of course, some meditations on the meaning of the day; military and service-focused holidays are always particularly hard.
I also got to test one of my 3/50 project purchases. Last Friday I popped into Green in Brooklyn to pick up some eco-friendly laundry soap. Since I have to carry the stuff a long block to services, I wanted to try a powder detergent rather than liquid for portability purposes. Elissa very knowledgeably guided me toward Charlie's Soap Laundry Powder and I have completely fallen in love. Biodegradable. Hypoallergenic. Fragrance-free -- it just smells like soap. It's softening; requires no additional fabric softener. 1 tablespoon needed per load of laundry. It comes in a little cloth bag with a tie-top.
And It Works. Beautifully clean, crisp, fresh bed linens are my most reckless tactile indulgence -- I would change my linens every day (and iron the new set) if I had the time/energy/didn't have to walk to the launderette -- and this detergent ensures that they're soft and fresh, and even encourages wrinkles to shake out. My clothes are ridiculously soft -- even semi-structured things like jeans and fitted-waist skirts just float into place.
AND. And. It's superbly wonderful for handwashing delicate fabrics. I actually hand-washed two entire loads of laundry this morning, because it was so easy to swirl and swish to wash, rinse clear and clean quickly, wring to dry, and hang over the rack in my kitchen. (I swear that I don't make a habit of hand-washing all of my clothes, but I didn't realize most of the shops -- including the launderette -- would be closed for the holiday; I meant to handle a few necessities, but it was just so easy to keep going!)
I think I've just been pwnd by a product. For the first time since ... well, okay, since Starbucks got me last week with the dirty chai, but before that it's been at least 15 years since the Cool Ranch Doritos phase. Only *this* one I don't feel guilty about.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Yoga
I've been turning over in my head some thoughts about developing an exercise routine now that I'm a bit more acclimated to life in the city. Walking and hefting aside, apart from taking weekend bike rides I'm no more active now than I was four months ago -- being tied to a computer for twelve hours a day does limit the ability to get up and move around, and dancing in one's seat only burns so many calories. Considering that when I don't burn physical energy I don't sleep, this is a completely unacceptable state of affairs.
The main things I want from a fitness plan are discipline (I'm not just going to change my existing routines without real impetus) and clarity of focus (a repetetive activity that allows me to clear my head), and the physical benefits I'm most looking for are flexibility, improved muscle tone, and improved strength. The final contenders were karate, running, and yoga.
Running makes me anxious firstly because of my wrecked ankle and secondly because walking on concrete is horrific; I can't imagine that a higher impact activity could be any better. Karate has fascinated me for years but is prohibitively expensive, at least for now. Yoga won not by default but because I have a built-in support systems of yogi friends, all of the equipment necessary to start taking classes and continue practice on my own, and because there are three studios within walking distance of my house. Calculate in the fact that one of those studios is a locally-owned, independent business (see The 3/50 Project for why this would hold so much sway with me) offering a terrific package for new students ($30 for 30 days of unlimited classes), and the decision was much easier than I would have believed possible.
This morning I took my first class at Move With Grace studios, and I am completely hooked. I called the studio and asked how the Iyengar classes were structured, and was pleased to learn that the Sunday morning class is designed specifically for beginners -- I've done bits of yoga practice before, but always from self-learn modules or by tucking myself into the back of an advanced class and doing my best to follow along. Actually being taught would be a new experience for me.
Seriously, was it. For the record, Instructor Yoko Ohashi is the single best introductory-level instructor I have ever had in any subject -- languages, music, dance, acting, basic school subjects - she wins them all. She introduced us to the class with basic call and response behaviors, teaching us to ground ourselves in both seated and standing poses, to balance ourselves on hands and feet while talking through every aspect of breathe and motion, body flow and leverage. Once everyone in the room was comfortable and balanced, and after she had observed each of us and corrected our errors, she moved into teaching us poses.
We learned seated poses swastikana and virasana, Triangle Pose, Warrior 2 pose, Extended Side Angle pose (utthita prasvakonasana), Downward-Facing Dog, Child's pose, Tree pose, and viparita karani or Legs-Up-The-Wall pose. With each pose, Yoko demonstrated the flow of movement, the individual steps we were to take, common mistakes we would be tempted to make, and ways to overcome them. Then, we would perform the steps of the pose in unison between four and six times per side as she observed and corrected us. Only when everyone in the room could perform the steps properly did we move on to the next element, and only at the very end of the active poses did we begin to put them together, linking Mountain pose and Tree pose by passing through utkatasana and ending with Downward-Facing Dog into Child's pose.
It was fascinating, and in those 90 minutes I was taught how to correct a half-dozen errors I've not realized I've been making, but which have most definitely impacted the effectiveness of practice. On top of that, the stretching and lengthening and flexibility work was incredibly powerful -- I am at least half-an-inch taller now than I was this morning! I absolutely loved this class, and will most definitely be going back.
Next up: Basic Vinyasa classes in the evenings this week.
First published at NYC to the Nines
The main things I want from a fitness plan are discipline (I'm not just going to change my existing routines without real impetus) and clarity of focus (a repetetive activity that allows me to clear my head), and the physical benefits I'm most looking for are flexibility, improved muscle tone, and improved strength. The final contenders were karate, running, and yoga.
Running makes me anxious firstly because of my wrecked ankle and secondly because walking on concrete is horrific; I can't imagine that a higher impact activity could be any better. Karate has fascinated me for years but is prohibitively expensive, at least for now. Yoga won not by default but because I have a built-in support systems of yogi friends, all of the equipment necessary to start taking classes and continue practice on my own, and because there are three studios within walking distance of my house. Calculate in the fact that one of those studios is a locally-owned, independent business (see The 3/50 Project for why this would hold so much sway with me) offering a terrific package for new students ($30 for 30 days of unlimited classes), and the decision was much easier than I would have believed possible.
This morning I took my first class at Move With Grace studios, and I am completely hooked. I called the studio and asked how the Iyengar classes were structured, and was pleased to learn that the Sunday morning class is designed specifically for beginners -- I've done bits of yoga practice before, but always from self-learn modules or by tucking myself into the back of an advanced class and doing my best to follow along. Actually being taught would be a new experience for me.
Seriously, was it. For the record, Instructor Yoko Ohashi is the single best introductory-level instructor I have ever had in any subject -- languages, music, dance, acting, basic school subjects - she wins them all. She introduced us to the class with basic call and response behaviors, teaching us to ground ourselves in both seated and standing poses, to balance ourselves on hands and feet while talking through every aspect of breathe and motion, body flow and leverage. Once everyone in the room was comfortable and balanced, and after she had observed each of us and corrected our errors, she moved into teaching us poses.
We learned seated poses swastikana and virasana, Triangle Pose, Warrior 2 pose, Extended Side Angle pose (utthita prasvakonasana), Downward-Facing Dog, Child's pose, Tree pose, and viparita karani or Legs-Up-The-Wall pose. With each pose, Yoko demonstrated the flow of movement, the individual steps we were to take, common mistakes we would be tempted to make, and ways to overcome them. Then, we would perform the steps of the pose in unison between four and six times per side as she observed and corrected us. Only when everyone in the room could perform the steps properly did we move on to the next element, and only at the very end of the active poses did we begin to put them together, linking Mountain pose and Tree pose by passing through utkatasana and ending with Downward-Facing Dog into Child's pose.
It was fascinating, and in those 90 minutes I was taught how to correct a half-dozen errors I've not realized I've been making, but which have most definitely impacted the effectiveness of practice. On top of that, the stretching and lengthening and flexibility work was incredibly powerful -- I am at least half-an-inch taller now than I was this morning! I absolutely loved this class, and will most definitely be going back.
Next up: Basic Vinyasa classes in the evenings this week.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Saturday, May 23, 2009
the most amazing and stupefying challenge ever bequested
My early morning routine is pretty unwavering: I wake up (usually before 6, usually with a cat licking my face) and revel in the simple joy of lying in a warm bed with crisp, clean sheets, then fumble around for my glasses, grab my blackberry from the side table, and catch up on email, twitter, facebook, and my RSS feeds. It helps me prioritize my day: very few things can be deemed an emergency and usurp my full attention when I'm that comfortable *and* a pair of small cats are very contentedly purring themselves back to sleep in my lap.
This morning, the first blog post in my RSS was from Melinda of One Green Generation. I like a lot of Melinda's writings. I don't often comment on her posts anymore, but the topics of environmentalism and personal action that she struggles with give me mental fodder for my day. Today was a little different. Today, she posted the entirety of Paul Hawken's commencement address to the class of 2009 at the University of Portland. I am stealing her idea outright and passing it on -- because if I had read -- or heard spoken -- this message ten years ago, the last decade would have been different for me. I hope the next one will be so for you.
This morning, the first blog post in my RSS was from Melinda of One Green Generation. I like a lot of Melinda's writings. I don't often comment on her posts anymore, but the topics of environmentalism and personal action that she struggles with give me mental fodder for my day. Today was a little different. Today, she posted the entirety of Paul Hawken's commencement address to the class of 2009 at the University of Portland. I am stealing her idea outright and passing it on -- because if I had read -- or heard spoken -- this message ten years ago, the last decade would have been different for me. I hope the next one will be so for you.
When I was invited to give this speech, I was asked if I could give a simple short talk that was “direct, naked, taut, honest, passionate, lean, shivering, startling, and graceful.” Boy, no pressure there.First published at NYC to the Nines
But let’s begin with the startling part. Hey, Class of 2009: you are going to have to figure out what it means to be a human being on earth at a time when every living system is declining, and the rate of decline is accelerating. Kind of a mind-boggling situation… but not one peer-reviewed paper published in the last thirty years can refute that statement. Basically, the earth needs a new operating system, you are the programmers, and we need it within a few decades.
This planet came with a set of operating instructions, but we seem to have misplaced them. Important rules like don’t poison the water, soil, or air, and don’t let the earth get overcrowded, and don’t touch the thermostat have been broken. Buckminster Fuller said that spaceship earth was so ingeniously designed that no one has a clue that we are on one, flying through the universe at a million miles per hour, with no need for seatbelts, lots of room in coach, and really good food, but all that is changing.
There is invisible writing on the back of the diploma you will receive, and in case you didn’t bring lemon juice to decode it, I can tell you what it says: YOU ARE BRILLIANT, AND THE EARTH IS HIRING. The earth couldn’t afford to send any recruiters or limos to your school. It sent you rain, sunsets, ripe cherries, night blooming jasmine, and that unbelievably cute person you are dating. Take the hint. And here’s the deal: Forget that this task of planet-saving is not possible in the time required. Don’t be put off by people who know what is not possible. Do what needs to be done, and check to see if it was impossible only after you are done.
When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t understand data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a pulse. What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world. The poet Adrienne Rich wrote, “So much has been destroyed I have cast my lot with those who, age after age, perversely, with no extraordinary power, reconstitute the world.” There could be no better description. Humanity is coalescing. It is reconstituting the world, and the action is taking place in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, campuses, companies, refuge camps, deserts, fisheries, and slums.
You join a multitude of caring people. No one knows how many groups and organizations are working on the most salient issues of our day: climate change, poverty, deforestation, peace, water, hunger, conservation, human rights, and more. This is the largest movement the world has ever seen. Rather than control, it seeks connection. Rather than dominance, it strives to disperse concentrations of power. Like Mercy Corps, it works behind the scenes and gets the job done. Large as it is, no one knows the true size of this movement. It provides hope, support, and meaning to billions of people in the world. Its clout resides in idea, not in force. It is made up of teachers, children, peasants, businesspeople, rappers, organic farmers, nuns, artists, government workers, fisherfolk, engineers, students, incorrigible writers, weeping Muslims, concerned mothers, poets, doctors without borders, grieving Christians, street musicians, the President of the United States of America, and as the writer David James Duncan would say, the Creator, the One who loves us all in such a huge way.
There is a rabbinical teaching that says if the world is ending and the Messiah arrives, first plant a tree, and then see if the story is true. Inspiration is not garnered from the litanies of what may befall us; it resides in humanity’s willingness to restore, redress, reform, rebuild, recover, reimagine, and reconsider. “One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice,” is Mary Oliver’s description of moving away from the profane toward a deep sense of connectedness to the living world.
Millions of people are working on behalf of strangers, even if the evening news is usually about the death of strangers. This kindness of strangers has religious, even mythic origins, and very specific eighteenth-century roots. Abolitionists were the first people to create a national and global movement to defend the rights of those they did not know. Until that time, no group had filed a grievance except on behalf of itself. The founders of this movement were largely unknown Granville Clark, Thomas Clarkson, Josiah Wedgwood and their goal was ridiculous on the face of it: at that time three out of four people in the world were enslaved. Enslaving each other was what human beings had done for ages. And the abolitionist movement was greeted with incredulity. Conservative spokesmen ridiculed the abolitionists as liberals, progressives, do-gooders, meddlers, and activists. They were told they would ruin the economy and drive England into poverty. But for the first time in history a group of people organized themselves to help people they would never know, from whom they would never receive direct or indirect benefit.. And today tens of millions of people do this every day. It is called the world of non-profits, civil society, schools, social entrepreneurship, and non-governmental organizations, of companies who place social and environmental justice at the top of their strategic goals. The scope and scale of this effort is unparalleled in history.
The living world is not “out there” somewhere, but in your heart. What do we know about life? In the words of biologist Janine Benyus, life creates the conditions that are conducive to life. I can think of no better motto for a future economy. We have tens of thousands of abandoned homes without people and tens of thousands of abandoned people without homes. We have failed bankers advising failed regulators on how to save failed assets. Think about this: we are the only species on this planet without full employment. Brilliant. We have an economy that tells us that it is cheaper to destroy earth in real time than to renew, restore, and sustain it. You can print money to bail out a bank but you can’t print life to bail out a planet. At present we are stealing the future, selling it in the present, and calling it gross domestic product. We can just as easily have an economy that is based on healing the future instead of stealing it. We can either create assets for the future or take the assets of the future. One is called restoration and the other exploitation. And whenever we exploit the earth we exploit people and cause untold suffering. Working for the earth is not a way to get rich, it is a way to be rich.
The first living cell came into being nearly 40 million centuries ago, and its direct descendants are in all of our bloodstreams. Literally you are breathing molecules this very second that were inhaled by Moses, Mother Teresa, and Bono. We are vastly interconnected. Our fates are inseparable. We are here because the dream of every cell is to become two cells. In each of you are one quadrillion cells, 90 percent of which are not human cells. Your body is a community, and without those other microorganisms you would perish in hours. Each human cell has 400 billion molecules conducting millions of processes between trillions of atoms. The total cellular activity in one human body is staggering: one septillion actions at any one moment, a one with twenty-four zeros after it. In a millisecond, our body has undergone ten times more processes than there are stars in the universe exactly what Charles Darwin foretold when he said science would discover that each living creature was a “little universe, formed of a host of self-propagating organisms, inconceivably minute and as numerous as the stars of heaven.”
So I have two questions for you all: First, can you feel your body? Stop for a moment. Feel your body. One septillion activities going on simultaneously, and your body does this so well you are free to ignore it, and wonder instead when this speech will end. Second question: who is in charge of your body? Who is managing those molecules? Hopefully not a political party. Life is creating the conditions that are conducive to life inside you, just as in all of nature. What I want you to imagine is that collectively humanity is evincing a deep innate wisdom in coming together to heal the wounds and insults of the past.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came out once every thousand years. No one would sleep that night, of course. The world would become religious overnight. We would be ecstatic, delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God. Instead the stars come out every night, and we watch television.
This extraordinary time when we are globally aware of each other and the multiple dangers that threaten civilization has never happened, not in a thousand years, not in ten thousand years. Each of us is as complex and beautiful as all the stars in the universe. We have done great things and we have gone way off course in terms of honoring creation. You are graduating to the most amazing and stupefying challenge ever bequested to any generation. The generations before you failed. They didn’t stay up all night. They got distracted and lost sight of the fact that life is a miracle every moment of your existence. Nature beckons you to be on her side. You couldn’t ask for a better boss. The most unrealistic person in the world is the cynic, not the dreamer. Hopefulness only makes sense when it doesn’t make sense to be hopeful. This is your century. Take it and run as if your life depends on it.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
known this all along
I listen to music on endless repeat. Not just an artist or an album, but a single song - for hours or days. I first recall doing so intentionally in college when I would write papers to an endless loop of the same track, serving as background cadence. Ani's I'm No Heroine for Brit Lit finals, Javert's Suicide from Les Mis for a horrible assignment about depictions of death in memoir, the 1812 Overture for my thesis. It drove people nuts.
It's never been a habit I could break, so I'm terrifically grateful for iPod earbuds now -- they let me listen with the volume cranked and don't disturb anyone else (provided I don't bust out into song unintentionally). When I wear them with a hat pulled down over my ears, I can turn my skull into an amplified sound system -- coolest sound experience ever.
For the last three days I've had Paint it Black (the 1966 cut), Dirty Little Secret (All-American Rejects), and the Glee cast's version of Don't Stop Believin' looping. Rhyme? Reason?
First published at NYC to the Nines
It's never been a habit I could break, so I'm terrifically grateful for iPod earbuds now -- they let me listen with the volume cranked and don't disturb anyone else (provided I don't bust out into song unintentionally). When I wear them with a hat pulled down over my ears, I can turn my skull into an amplified sound system -- coolest sound experience ever.
For the last three days I've had Paint it Black (the 1966 cut), Dirty Little Secret (All-American Rejects), and the Glee cast's version of Don't Stop Believin' looping. Rhyme? Reason?
First published at NYC to the Nines
to douse the sunrise
I am mesmerized by coffee.
I've always sworn that I'd never drink coffee -- too dark, too bitter, too unpleasant a taste to acquire. (Like wine, which I *really* can't stand.) Then I moved to New York, and started sleeping less than 5 hours a night. And work stress picked up, and the energy needed for hyper-productivity ceased to be available. So I tried espresso.
Let me rephrase: so I tried adding espresso to delightfully sweet, creamy, frothy drinks -- like iced blended vanilla creams and nonfat extra-hot chai lattes.
By this time next week, I'll probably be skipping the frothy, sugary accessories and drinking the stuff straight. Sans cigarette, since work forbids it and all. Also sans food, since it's a bit of an appetite suppressant.
If I'm not watchful I'll be digging out the purple eyeliner and starving-poet clothes next.
First published at NYC to the Nines
I've always sworn that I'd never drink coffee -- too dark, too bitter, too unpleasant a taste to acquire. (Like wine, which I *really* can't stand.) Then I moved to New York, and started sleeping less than 5 hours a night. And work stress picked up, and the energy needed for hyper-productivity ceased to be available. So I tried espresso.
Let me rephrase: so I tried adding espresso to delightfully sweet, creamy, frothy drinks -- like iced blended vanilla creams and nonfat extra-hot chai lattes.
- I understand why people are particular about their coffee -- which beans, how they're roasted, optimal brewing temperatures, appropriate additives, etc. It's so good, but could also be horrific.
- I can imagine -- I can practically taste the day when I find the blend that I can drink straight -- black and unsweetened.
- I understand how caffeine withdrawl headaches could be so, so, so much worse.
- I understand why so many smokers love coffee; I haven't had a cigarette in 8 years, but sense memory creates the perfect accompaniment.
By this time next week, I'll probably be skipping the frothy, sugary accessories and drinking the stuff straight. Sans cigarette, since work forbids it and all. Also sans food, since it's a bit of an appetite suppressant.
If I'm not watchful I'll be digging out the purple eyeliner and starving-poet clothes next.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
What price a gallon of milk?
I just paid $5.59 for a half- gallon of organic, hormone-free, nonfat milk. In Saratoga two weekends ago, I paid $2.65.
I'm so far beyond horrified as to be speechless.
First published at NYC to the Nines
I'm so far beyond horrified as to be speechless.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Monday, May 18, 2009
Paging Mister Jones
utterings My Ideal Personal Assistant = a wizard at audio recording able to turn conversation into a podcast series, and a social bookmarking expert. about 2 hours ago from TwitterBerry
utterings Because if I could bottle my brainstorming conversations AND develop organizational skills, I'd be 100% more productive than I am. about 2 hours ago from TwitterBerry
utterings Know anyone with those skills? I can't afford to pay a salary, but I'm a damn good cook and my couch has no permanent tenant. about 2 hours ago from TwitterBerry
I twittered those comments earlier this evening, while walking home from the subway.
I've been thinking about strengths and weaknesses lately. Work instituted a new aspect of our performance review system earlier this year, whereby staff solicit feedback from a variety of people whom we interact with in different ways in order that we can better gauge our performance as part of a multi-faceted organization where no department, and no individual, acts within a vacuum. It was really eye-opening in a lot of ways -- looking at strengths and weaknesses as they relate not only to the stated objectives of my job or the team I run or the department that my team is a part of, but to an organization that is rapidly becoming global in scope. Seeing the big picture, the place where we each fit and all the ways that our work intersects so many others, makes it very clear that we must use our strengths to the best of our abilities. But it also means that our weaknesses must be overcome or compensated for as, unchecked, the cost of errors is exponentially worse than they may first seem.
I re-read my notes on Tom Rath's Strengthsfinder in my bath tonight (is a bubblebath still considered relaxation if you're reading work materials in it?), while thinking over the weaknesses that I reviewed with Super!Boss in early April. The big thing I've been struggling with is a lack of clarity of in my communication skills. I deal with technical information and innovative processes, both of which can be frightening, intimidating, and/or frustrating for people who aren't familiar with either. Both have their own trade languages, which means that I regularly need to translate specific vernacular into layman's terms - and based on the feedback shared with me, on a fairly regular basis I fail.
I've been trying to develop a better system of communicative checks and balances over the last several weeks -- writing shorter, more focused meeting agendas; breaking more frequently during conference calls to solicit feedback and questions; building detailed emails in multiple drafts over several hours or days, in order to take a fresh look at things and correct errors that aren't immediately apparent. Those steps have yielded positive results. This six-week blogging challenge is also a step toward overcoming that failure, forcing me to put fingers to keys every day and earn reader attention with the quality of my writing and the choice of my topics. (If you're only here for the outsider's view of the Big Apple, I apologize for this boring and self-absorbed bit of introspection.) But it occurred to me today while walking home from work, after a very trying week of working on a frustrating project that I don't care for at all, that what I'm doing with working on ways of improving my communication is treating a symptom, rather than getting at the root of the problem.
I graduated at the top of my class with a degree in literature and letters from a well-acclaimed Baccalaureate program. I took and earned better marks in more writing classes, a combination of creative and technical, than any other person in my graduating class, and won writing awards in both college and grad school. On top of that, I can hold an audience pretty well rapt when I'm speaking in person -- for all that I'm not terribly keen on public speaking, I get some pretty great reviews every time I step in front of an audience. I don't think it's arrogance for me to say that I'm far from a crap communicator. So if I'm struggling with making myself understood, with connecting to an audience in a variety of mediums, then the real flaw has to be something deeper that results in poor communication in this instance, rather than my communication itself being the only flaw. Thus, I revisited Strengthsfinder.
I took a pretty long look at my five strengths -- the things at which I excel more than anything else:
- Input, an insatiable desire to know more about everything, characterized by ceaseless curiosity and the ability to bounce between topics seemingly at random while noting and filing all away for future refrence
- Intellection, serious introspection that ensures the mind is always working, puzzling through ideas, concepts, problems - with or without practical application
- Ideation, a fascination with ideas, regardless of how elegant, complex, enlightening, profound, novel, clarifying, contrary, or bizarre they are, and a seemingly inexhaustible ability to brainstorm about anything
- Strategic, a distinct way of looking at the world that allows one to see patterns and opportunities, ways and means, where most people see complexity and confusion
- Futuristic, a fascination with whatever might be lingering just over the horizon, and the ability to dream visions of precisely what that future will hold and use them to inspire forward momentum and progress for self and others
With regard to the last -- I am not a detail-oriented person. Anyone who's worked with me on even one project can tell you that I'm all about overcoming the obstacles, planning the path to the end result, testing the experience, building and going forward bigger and better -- but that I have no interest in seeing that the specific i's are dotted and t's are crossed. I can force myself to focus on the details that seem extraneous to the main, energizing part of a topic at hand, but in doing so I grow bored, edgy, and antagonistic, losing forward-momentum. I stop being inspired.
Successful written communication relies on clarity of details. Stories rely on a clear arcs that identify and/or reveal how you get from one thought to the next. And communicating ideas and plans that are very new, very fresh, that challenge standards and long-established ways of operating requires a great deal of patience.
Those weaknesses, combined with the sheer quantity of projects that I've undertaken (because they're fresh, exciting, forward-thinking, revolutionary, strategically focused, and inspiring) has left me shorter on time than a non-detail-oriented person can afford to be, and still be effective. That's the flaw. That's where I'm failing. Breaks in my communicative abilities are but one symptom of a more complex problem: I'm working quickly, I'm working impatiently, I'm cutting corners. To the detriment of the whole.
Problem: I need to learn to pay attention to the little things that don't ping my radar as being important.
The easy solution would be finding a real-life version of Ianto Jones to follow me around with a tape recorder and edit my verbal debates with myself into a podcast as my primary communication method, taking notes as I speak and asking the clarifying questions that would let me fill in the gaps, focusing on the nitpicky details like shaving milliseconds of fuzziness off of the tape and scanning out any background noise in order to tighten up the delivery, coming up with quirky, amusing, descriptive titles, and filing everything meticulously in a cross-referenced system that took chronology, program, topics, and strategic application into account. The perfectly prepared cups of tea and coffee wouldn't go amiss, either.
But as fiction isn't likely to become reality as I snap my fingers and hope, it would be a better use of time for me to figure out a) how to create a filing system for documents/reports/notes/ideas/questions/etc and b) how to take actual notes. My college roommate would be dancing for joy and shrieking "I told you so," if she read this -- Laura hated that I never kept notebooks for my lit classes and never believed that highlighting, underlining, and marginalia notes could be sufficient "study guides" for the grades I pulled.
If you've ever looked at the tags, categories, or keywords that I've attempted to put together on any of my web-based accounts, you'll have an inkling of why I'm overwhelmed -- I really do suck at organization.
Tips are welcome. I think.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Greening
Having safely delivered Becky and Dennis to the subway for Little Mo's graduation, I'm unpacking all of the goodies they brought to me. (I took full advantage of the fact that they were driving to Brooklyn to let them schlep the really heavy stuff down from Saratoga, rather than figure out how to get it here on the bus last weekend.)
For my thirtieth, Nana gave me a gorgeous cast iron dutch oven that I've been coveting for months; it's currently sitting in it's new home (back left burner of the stove) awaiting recipe number one. I'm going to attempt No Knead Bread later this morning; if I time it right, I'll bake the loaf before work tomorrow and have warm bread for breakfast. I have all of the ingredients for a vegetable stew in my larder, too, so that's on the agenda for later in the week.
I popped into The Whistling Kettle while home for 1/2 pound bags of my favorites -- Masala Chai, their standard Earl Grey, and the East Friesen Broken Blend (a *stunning* blend of assam, java, and sumatra -- I prefer the robust flavor acheived with "mid quality" leaves; typical-brew premiums taste weak to me for all but white tea, so take that into account if basing a choice off of my recs).
I have yet to find a shop with a truly quality bulk foods section when compared with Four Seasons, so I stocked up on the important things while I was upstate last weekend. (People really have raptures about the Whole Foods bulk aisle? Really? Color me unimpressed. Forager's bulk section is also laughably tiny and without variety.) Rices, grains, meals, nuts -- all are safely ensconced in their airtight containers in the cupboard.
The negative aspect of buying while away, though, is that I now have all of these plastic bags everywhere. The best thing about bulk buying is bringing the storage containers with me to market, buying just the amount needed of super-fresh goods, and having no waste. (I went a bit overboard with the steel cut oats; I now have more than 3 times what my tub holds.) Between these and my trip to Trader Joe's last week, I have almost double my usual amount of trash, solely from packaging.
One of the long-term holdover changes that's outlasted my greening experiment of 2007 (one new eco-friendly home-life change per week, implemented over a period of six months, and maintained throughout the full time) was serious trash reduction. I buy products with no packaging (unwrapped produce), reusable packaging (milk in refillable glass bottles), recyclable packaging (yogurt cups), or biodegradable packaging (facewash in a box that's been stamped with basil seeds; flatten and soak the box, plant in the herb garden, tend the plants) -- I hate hate HATE plastic. So I need to come up with some reuses for the bulk food plastics, the tea ziplocs, and the brown paper that all was wrapped in.
From a long-term perspective, the solution is finding a real bulk foods shop in Brooklyn and a tea room that carries leaves of varying grades. I'm happy to take suggestions -- because my trash bag on Tuesday morning will be larger than my recycling bag, and that makes Mother Nature cry.
Separately, for those who've asked, there is a post coming about the Birthday Extravaganza weekends. It's just ... big. You guys can leave a comment with that kind of question, too -- blogs are about interactive communication. :)
First published at NYC to the Nines
For my thirtieth, Nana gave me a gorgeous cast iron dutch oven that I've been coveting for months; it's currently sitting in it's new home (back left burner of the stove) awaiting recipe number one. I'm going to attempt No Knead Bread later this morning; if I time it right, I'll bake the loaf before work tomorrow and have warm bread for breakfast. I have all of the ingredients for a vegetable stew in my larder, too, so that's on the agenda for later in the week.
I popped into The Whistling Kettle while home for 1/2 pound bags of my favorites -- Masala Chai, their standard Earl Grey, and the East Friesen Broken Blend (a *stunning* blend of assam, java, and sumatra -- I prefer the robust flavor acheived with "mid quality" leaves; typical-brew premiums taste weak to me for all but white tea, so take that into account if basing a choice off of my recs).
I have yet to find a shop with a truly quality bulk foods section when compared with Four Seasons, so I stocked up on the important things while I was upstate last weekend. (People really have raptures about the Whole Foods bulk aisle? Really? Color me unimpressed. Forager's bulk section is also laughably tiny and without variety.) Rices, grains, meals, nuts -- all are safely ensconced in their airtight containers in the cupboard.
The negative aspect of buying while away, though, is that I now have all of these plastic bags everywhere. The best thing about bulk buying is bringing the storage containers with me to market, buying just the amount needed of super-fresh goods, and having no waste. (I went a bit overboard with the steel cut oats; I now have more than 3 times what my tub holds.) Between these and my trip to Trader Joe's last week, I have almost double my usual amount of trash, solely from packaging.
One of the long-term holdover changes that's outlasted my greening experiment of 2007 (one new eco-friendly home-life change per week, implemented over a period of six months, and maintained throughout the full time) was serious trash reduction. I buy products with no packaging (unwrapped produce), reusable packaging (milk in refillable glass bottles), recyclable packaging (yogurt cups), or biodegradable packaging (facewash in a box that's been stamped with basil seeds; flatten and soak the box, plant in the herb garden, tend the plants) -- I hate hate HATE plastic. So I need to come up with some reuses for the bulk food plastics, the tea ziplocs, and the brown paper that all was wrapped in.
From a long-term perspective, the solution is finding a real bulk foods shop in Brooklyn and a tea room that carries leaves of varying grades. I'm happy to take suggestions -- because my trash bag on Tuesday morning will be larger than my recycling bag, and that makes Mother Nature cry.
Separately, for those who've asked, there is a post coming about the Birthday Extravaganza weekends. It's just ... big. You guys can leave a comment with that kind of question, too -- blogs are about interactive communication. :)
First published at NYC to the Nines
Books, books, books
I missed posting yesterday, as my sister and brother-in-law are in town for the weekend. Way too tired to sit down and type at 1am when we got in.
Yesterday morning, before they arrived, I hit up the Brooklyn Public Library for the Great American Book Drive. I didn't have any books to donate (considering that I cleared more than 600 off my cases in the last year and gave most to the Saratoga Springs Public Library prior to moving), but I took advantage of the book sale to stock up on new material.
I have a really hard time exercising restraint when it comes to books and not purchasing every single thing I find remotely interesting. (I remember with great fondness spending the entirety of my first paycheck from my first career-job at a few different bookstores, and having one of the shop managers offer to have my order hand delivered by a member of his staff.) Yesterday, though, knowing that I had a healthy walk to make and a satchel of borrowed materials (on dressmaking, this time), I was able to limit myself to a single small stack.
Yesterday morning, before they arrived, I hit up the Brooklyn Public Library for the Great American Book Drive. I didn't have any books to donate (considering that I cleared more than 600 off my cases in the last year and gave most to the Saratoga Springs Public Library prior to moving), but I took advantage of the book sale to stock up on new material.
I have a really hard time exercising restraint when it comes to books and not purchasing every single thing I find remotely interesting. (I remember with great fondness spending the entirety of my first paycheck from my first career-job at a few different bookstores, and having one of the shop managers offer to have my order hand delivered by a member of his staff.) Yesterday, though, knowing that I had a healthy walk to make and a satchel of borrowed materials (on dressmaking, this time), I was able to limit myself to a single small stack.
- The Stranger & the Statesman, Nina Burleigh
- The Emperor's Children, Claire Messud
- The Crimson Petal and the White, Michel Faber
I love novels that examine the seedy underbelly of oh-so-proper Victorian England; this one has been on my "got to get that" list for some time. - Tanglewreck, Jeanette Winterson
(Had NO idea Winterson (Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Written on the Body, Lighthousekeeping - that Winterson) had written a YA sci-fi/fantasy novel. Her style of disjointed storytelling is perfect for a novel about fractured time -- since I first saw Torchwood I thought it would be an awesome thing for her to write an episode.) - Black and Blue, Anna Quindlen
- Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier
- Last Flight, Amelia Earhart
I adore this memoir, and am so thrilled to now own a copy. Amelia Earhart is one of my heroes-by-chance; I was 16 when the US Navy started calling my house every week recruiting me for Intel and pilotry. Being a bookwormish sort, I turned to bound paper for more information. Her poem, "Courage," has always been one of my favorites.
COURAGE
Courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace.
The soul that knows it not, knows no release
From little things;
Knows not the livid loneliness of fear
Nor mountain heights, where bitter joy can hear
The sound of wings.
How can life grant us boon of living, compensate
For dull gray ugliness and pregnant hate
Unless we dare
The soul's dominion? Each time we make a choice, we pay
With courage to behold resistless day
And count it fair.
Friday, May 15, 2009
An open letter to my high school classmates
Cancer has struck us hard. So many of us have struggled with our parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends who have battled cancer in many forms. Some of us have won. Some have not been so fortunate.
My own father was diagnosed with colon cancer the year after I graduated from college; he's since made a full recovery, but the threat of "another tumor" always looms. He and my grandfather, great-aunts, and friends are the reason I work at the coolest job in the world with the American Cancer Society. (Okay, perhaps not as exotic as Mike's gig in Cairo or as exciting as Adam's daily interactions with sports stars, but incredibly, amazingly cool just the same!)
I began volunteering with ACS 15 years ago, and just passed my five year anniversary as a member of the staff. I am not an expert when it comes to cancer-the-disease (I leave that to physicians and research scientists), but I'm incredibly knowledgeable about how to fight back against it - and I want to give you the opportunity to help.
The American Cancer Society is the best in the business when it comes to making a difference. We - and I say that "we" with great pride - are saving lives. We help people stay well by providing healthy living guidelines and screening recommendations. (Many of our recs are considered standard by the American Medical Association.) We help people get well by providing services and assistance directly to patients and families in need - at no charge to them, ever. We find cures, pouring more funds into cancer research than any other private organization - and our research has contributed to nearly every major breakthrough in combating cancer since we were founded in 1913. And, perhaps most importantly, we give individual people the power to fight back.
We're old enough now, and experienced enough, to understand that fear is paralyzing and powerlessness is draining. If we are convinced - or remain convinced - that there is nothing we can do to change a situation, we are absolutely right. Cancer is huge and scary, and there is no shame in being afraid of it - but fear can not govern our actions.
I am participating in Relay For Life, the American Cancer Society's signature event. Relay brings communities of people together in a loud, splashy, outdoor, picnicky party to raise some hell about cancer. As I participate, I want you to fight back with me. There are three small steps you can take that will have a measurable impact in
the fight against cancer. Any one of these will save a life.
If you take any one of those actions, lives will be saved. Every dollar raised allows us to keep our programs and services available and free. Connecting cancer survivors with a support network improves their chances of long-term survival; isolation is very dangerous. Ensuring that everyone - healthy people included - know that there are compassionate professionals they can trust to guide them through a cancer-journey is vital to ensuring that those who require screenings have them (early detection is the BEST prevention) and that those who are diagnosed have immediate access to information and treatment.
Please fight back. Help me today.
First published at NYC to the Nines
My own father was diagnosed with colon cancer the year after I graduated from college; he's since made a full recovery, but the threat of "another tumor" always looms. He and my grandfather, great-aunts, and friends are the reason I work at the coolest job in the world with the American Cancer Society. (Okay, perhaps not as exotic as Mike's gig in Cairo or as exciting as Adam's daily interactions with sports stars, but incredibly, amazingly cool just the same!)
I began volunteering with ACS 15 years ago, and just passed my five year anniversary as a member of the staff. I am not an expert when it comes to cancer-the-disease (I leave that to physicians and research scientists), but I'm incredibly knowledgeable about how to fight back against it - and I want to give you the opportunity to help.
The American Cancer Society is the best in the business when it comes to making a difference. We - and I say that "we" with great pride - are saving lives. We help people stay well by providing healthy living guidelines and screening recommendations. (Many of our recs are considered standard by the American Medical Association.) We help people get well by providing services and assistance directly to patients and families in need - at no charge to them, ever. We find cures, pouring more funds into cancer research than any other private organization - and our research has contributed to nearly every major breakthrough in combating cancer since we were founded in 1913. And, perhaps most importantly, we give individual people the power to fight back.
We're old enough now, and experienced enough, to understand that fear is paralyzing and powerlessness is draining. If we are convinced - or remain convinced - that there is nothing we can do to change a situation, we are absolutely right. Cancer is huge and scary, and there is no shame in being afraid of it - but fear can not govern our actions.
I am participating in Relay For Life, the American Cancer Society's signature event. Relay brings communities of people together in a loud, splashy, outdoor, picnicky party to raise some hell about cancer. As I participate, I want you to fight back with me. There are three small steps you can take that will have a measurable impact in
the fight against cancer. Any one of these will save a life.
- Make a $10 donation to ACS, so that I can light a Luminaria candle in honor of or in memory of someone you love. The Luminaria Ceremony at Relay is a time of tribute and remembrance; candles are lit around a walking track at dusk and burn throughout the night to symbolize all of the relationships that matter to us, all of the reasons why fighting back is so vitally important.
- Invite any cancer survivors you know - whether they have been cancer-free for decades or have been diagnosed very recently - to attend Relay For Life as guests of honor. The opening lap of Relay is a special ceremony of celebration - a Victory Lap for survivors and their caregivers. (If you're in the Capital Region, join me on June 5 in Green Island; if you want to find an event near you, visit relayforlife.org to search by zip code.) You're also absolutely welcome to join my team, The Fast-Walkin' Freddies, and walk, fundraise, and set up camp with us for the evening. (Registration closes Tuesday, so be right quick!)
- Tell one person - any person - about the work of the American Cancer Society. Direct people to view this post. Encourage anyone with questions to call 1-800-227-2345 or visit cancer.org for 24/7 support from trained professionals. Do not let our services be a secret.
If you take any one of those actions, lives will be saved. Every dollar raised allows us to keep our programs and services available and free. Connecting cancer survivors with a support network improves their chances of long-term survival; isolation is very dangerous. Ensuring that everyone - healthy people included - know that there are compassionate professionals they can trust to guide them through a cancer-journey is vital to ensuring that those who require screenings have them (early detection is the BEST prevention) and that those who are diagnosed have immediate access to information and treatment.
Please fight back. Help me today.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Did you say it?
Oh my god, Grey's Anatomy. How many concentric circle story arcs can you deliver with the same three characters, and have them all be heart-wrenching?
And how amazingly fabulous are Meredith and Cristina when the dark and twisty is soothed and loved away?
First published at NYC to the Nines
And how amazingly fabulous are Meredith and Cristina when the dark and twisty is soothed and loved away?
First published at NYC to the Nines
Chemicals, n: Noxious substances from which modern foods are made.*
- The extent of my gardening experience is growing vegetables, herbs, and fruit -- edibles.
- One of the first community activities I participated in upon moving to Brooklyn was attending a general meeting of the Greene Hill Food Coop
- I shop at Farmer's Markets, where I can get to know the people who grow and supply my food - like Rick from Ronnybrook
- I buy whole foods 85% of the time and prepare meals and snacks from scratch
In great part, this is because food is a source of daily joy -- I like to grow things, shop for specialties, meet people, feed people, and I love to cook. Basic, fresh ingredients produce food that tastes fantastic.
But when the companies that control most of the foods that average Americans eat baldly state that they cannot guarantee the safety of their products for human consumption, it becomes important to note that food safety (not to mention food security and eliminating urban food deserts) are also incredibly important.
Off to make dinner and reread The Omnivore's Dilemma.
*Author unknown
First published at NYC to the Nines
Progress at 43Things: Cultivate My Own Sense of Style (1)
The clothes make the woman...
This goal and everything about it are stressing me out to no end. It doesn’t help that I’m feeling fat and frumpy, and my clothes don’t fit properly, and I have zero budget to shop – not that I would know what to buy if I did. I don’t know how to determine what I like, and how things go together—or even if they do.
Living in NYC and commuting to my office on Fashion Avenue every day does NOT help.
I’m a grown-up, I should be able to figure this out, right?
See more progress on Cultivate My Own Sense of Style
First published at 43Things
This goal and everything about it are stressing me out to no end. It doesn’t help that I’m feeling fat and frumpy, and my clothes don’t fit properly, and I have zero budget to shop – not that I would know what to buy if I did. I don’t know how to determine what I like, and how things go together—or even if they do.
Living in NYC and commuting to my office on Fashion Avenue every day does NOT help.
- I have a pair of dark red, round-toe, wedge heel shoes that always make me smile
- My favorite bag is an unstructured pouch with outer button pockets and a pair of handles that cinch the bag closed—it totally makes me smile, and feels like the right size for me a) to carry as a 6’ tall girl and b) as a new yorker who needs to lug stuff around.
I’m a grown-up, I should be able to figure this out, right?
See more progress on Cultivate My Own Sense of Style
First published at 43Things
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I'm really not a foodie. I swear.
I know it's bizarre to follow up a post all about supporting local businesses in local economies with a post about a company that is far from local. What can I say? I'm full of contradictions.
This morning, my larder was empty. With the exception of ingredients for a baked macaroni-and-cheese casserole for tonight's supper and a pair of eggs/english muffin/sliced avocado for tomorrow's breakfast, I had a choice between celery, frozen snap peas, several jars of jam, and a can of coconut milk to bring for tomorrow's lunch. Anyone who can turn that into a meal is far more resourceful than I, so I dedicated the evening to food shopping and made my first solo foray to Trader Joe's.
My friend Clay introduced me to TJ's on my last trip to NYC prior to moving. After accompanying me all the way from New Haven to Fort Greene to sign the lease and measure the space of my new flat, we popped in so that I could "have a look around." I bought a jar of very tasty peanut butter and otherwise focused my attention on asking "how do they fit so many things/people/carts/staff in this little tiny space?" Tonight's trip was rather more successful.
Trader Joe's in Brooklyn is located in a renovated bank. While compact in footprint, the ceiling is an easy three-story vault, and the elevated windows give the room an open, airy feeling. It was a great deal of fun to wander through, although my habitual meandering through grocery aisles is simply unacceptable in NYC, land of "get me in and out of here in negative time, NOW!" mentality.
Being unable to pore over the offerings means that I certainly missed quite a bit. For example, I'm certain they carry carrots and pineapple, but those must have been hiding out with the peanut-butter-pretzels my officemates rave about. In spite of the misses, I found some glorious wins, too -- first-press California Estate olive oil, a gorgeous bag of nearly-ripe plums, extra-sharp Celtic cheddar cheese, and *the* tea I have been searching for since I arrived in Brooklyn -- citrus-free, full-body, spiced Rooibos Chai.
There is nothing Local about Trader Joe's -- the decor and lingo reminiscent of an exotic seaport creates an honest ambiance. That said, I feel not one twinge of guilt over buying imported, out-of-season food items: nearly everything I brought home is organic. All items derived from animal life are free of antibiotics and growth hormones. The overwhelming majority of items I purchased were "sustainably harvested" and everything except the meat came in recyclable packaging.
I definitely went overboard with the items in my cart. I bought everything on my list and then some -- like a jar of spicy arabiatta pasta sauce, a gorgeous container of plump blackberries, and handmade flour tortillas. But here's the kicker: even with the extras, I came in under budget for my weekly shopping. I am amazed at the sheer quantity of incredible food that I brought home with me tonight; I can't wait to begin preparing chicken pitas, enchiladas, salads, cheese plates, breakfast breads, and an attempted recreation of Starbucks' frozen iced tea/lemonade. I know I'll end up having to freeze some things so they don't turn before I can consume them, but wow. Amazing experience.
My sister and brother-in-law are coming to visit this weekend. I may not be able to stop myself from suggesting a grocery store as a tourist destination.
First published at NYC to the Nines
This morning, my larder was empty. With the exception of ingredients for a baked macaroni-and-cheese casserole for tonight's supper and a pair of eggs/english muffin/sliced avocado for tomorrow's breakfast, I had a choice between celery, frozen snap peas, several jars of jam, and a can of coconut milk to bring for tomorrow's lunch. Anyone who can turn that into a meal is far more resourceful than I, so I dedicated the evening to food shopping and made my first solo foray to Trader Joe's.
My friend Clay introduced me to TJ's on my last trip to NYC prior to moving. After accompanying me all the way from New Haven to Fort Greene to sign the lease and measure the space of my new flat, we popped in so that I could "have a look around." I bought a jar of very tasty peanut butter and otherwise focused my attention on asking "how do they fit so many things/people/carts/staff in this little tiny space?" Tonight's trip was rather more successful.
Trader Joe's in Brooklyn is located in a renovated bank. While compact in footprint, the ceiling is an easy three-story vault, and the elevated windows give the room an open, airy feeling. It was a great deal of fun to wander through, although my habitual meandering through grocery aisles is simply unacceptable in NYC, land of "get me in and out of here in negative time, NOW!" mentality.
Being unable to pore over the offerings means that I certainly missed quite a bit. For example, I'm certain they carry carrots and pineapple, but those must have been hiding out with the peanut-butter-pretzels my officemates rave about. In spite of the misses, I found some glorious wins, too -- first-press California Estate olive oil, a gorgeous bag of nearly-ripe plums, extra-sharp Celtic cheddar cheese, and *the* tea I have been searching for since I arrived in Brooklyn -- citrus-free, full-body, spiced Rooibos Chai.
There is nothing Local about Trader Joe's -- the decor and lingo reminiscent of an exotic seaport creates an honest ambiance. That said, I feel not one twinge of guilt over buying imported, out-of-season food items: nearly everything I brought home is organic. All items derived from animal life are free of antibiotics and growth hormones. The overwhelming majority of items I purchased were "sustainably harvested" and everything except the meat came in recyclable packaging.
I definitely went overboard with the items in my cart. I bought everything on my list and then some -- like a jar of spicy arabiatta pasta sauce, a gorgeous container of plump blackberries, and handmade flour tortillas. But here's the kicker: even with the extras, I came in under budget for my weekly shopping. I am amazed at the sheer quantity of incredible food that I brought home with me tonight; I can't wait to begin preparing chicken pitas, enchiladas, salads, cheese plates, breakfast breads, and an attempted recreation of Starbucks' frozen iced tea/lemonade. I know I'll end up having to freeze some things so they don't turn before I can consume them, but wow. Amazing experience.
My sister and brother-in-law are coming to visit this weekend. I may not be able to stop myself from suggesting a grocery store as a tourist destination.
First published at NYC to the Nines
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The 3/50 Project
One of my favorite blogs, providing a cross-section of my new town and my desire to change the world, is IdealistNYC. Joanna is indefatiguable when it comes to furthering the idealist mission: share stories of innovation and collaboration, spotlight opportunities for action and involvement, and help good ideas travel in the five boroughs.
Earlier today, she posted about The 3/50 Project, which is both brilliant and simple.
Objective: save local economies
Course of Action: choose 3 local businesses within *your* town or neighborhood, and support them with purchases totaling $50 per month
As the homepage of The 3/50 Project states, a significantly greater percentage of money spent in small, locally owned businesses remains in the community (taxes, payroll, business expenditures, etc) than is the case with large chain stores or online retailers (where $0 is let loose on a local area!). So, choose 3 businesses that you love -- 3 that make your neighborhood what it is, 3 that you would miss if they went out of business or moved to greener pastures (or more heavily trafficked thoroughfares). Then, budget so as to spend $50 per month between those three locations.
If 1/2 of the employed adults in America spent $50 per month at local, independently owned businesses, more than $42 billion would be generated in revenue for local economies.
My independents:
I'm sure the Habana Outpost will find it's way to that list after I've tried their food (it's always been too crowded for me to feel comfortable eating there alone), and there's a little organic grocer near Tillie's that I've been meaning to pop into, but I haven't made it over yet (nor do I know if they officially qualify as local).
What are you waiting for? Make your 3/50 pledge today.
UPDATE: Elissa from GreeninBKLYN has made the pledge (and posted a very nice link back here)!
First published at NYC to the Nines
Earlier today, she posted about The 3/50 Project, which is both brilliant and simple.
Objective: save local economies
Course of Action: choose 3 local businesses within *your* town or neighborhood, and support them with purchases totaling $50 per month
As the homepage of The 3/50 Project states, a significantly greater percentage of money spent in small, locally owned businesses remains in the community (taxes, payroll, business expenditures, etc) than is the case with large chain stores or online retailers (where $0 is let loose on a local area!). So, choose 3 businesses that you love -- 3 that make your neighborhood what it is, 3 that you would miss if they went out of business or moved to greener pastures (or more heavily trafficked thoroughfares). Then, budget so as to spend $50 per month between those three locations.
If 1/2 of the employed adults in America spent $50 per month at local, independently owned businesses, more than $42 billion would be generated in revenue for local economies.
My independents:
- Green in BKLYN, a brand new eco-home business in Fort Greene, owned by Elissa Olin. I bought a Mother's Day gift here that my mom just adored -- and will return each month for cleaning products and stationery.
- Tillie's of Brooklyn, a delightful little coffee shop that makes a great cocoa and which I pass each weekend en route to the Brooklyn Flea and the BPL
- Pequena, for the chicken & guac quesadillas that I can have delivered at 11 after a ridiculously long day at work (among what I'm sure are other tasty dishes (and acclaimed margaritas))
- The Fort Greene Farmer's Market, particularly Ronnybrook Farms for milk (in refillable glass bottles) and cheese and Tello's Green Farm for super-fresh eggs. (I know they don't qualify per the 3/50 list, but they meet my definition and then some.)
I'm sure the Habana Outpost will find it's way to that list after I've tried their food (it's always been too crowded for me to feel comfortable eating there alone), and there's a little organic grocer near Tillie's that I've been meaning to pop into, but I haven't made it over yet (nor do I know if they officially qualify as local).
What are you waiting for? Make your 3/50 pledge today.
UPDATE: Elissa from GreeninBKLYN has made the pledge (and posted a very nice link back here)!
First published at NYC to the Nines
Six Week Challenge
So many things to write about -- visits from friends, birthday extravaganzas, neighborhood debates, explorations in Brooklyn, critiques of nonprofit tech, etc -- and yet I haven't managed to get my fingers on the keys with a wordpress window open. That stops now.
For the next 42 days (May12 through June 23), I will post every single day. Daily repetition over a six week period is one way to kick-start a new habit; thus the plan. The point is quantity over quality -- keeping the hand moving, as Natalie is so fond of saying -- so I offer no guarantee that it will be interesting. I haven't decided if this post counts. I suppose it will depend on how motivated I am to sit down after a day at work.
Anyone who hasn't yet downloaded my birthday music, you have until 11:59 pm until the file expires. Thought a PSA might be appreciated.
So, how 'bout them Yankees?
First published at NYC to the Nines
For the next 42 days (May12 through June 23), I will post every single day. Daily repetition over a six week period is one way to kick-start a new habit; thus the plan. The point is quantity over quality -- keeping the hand moving, as Natalie is so fond of saying -- so I offer no guarantee that it will be interesting. I haven't decided if this post counts. I suppose it will depend on how motivated I am to sit down after a day at work.
Anyone who hasn't yet downloaded my birthday music, you have until 11:59 pm until the file expires. Thought a PSA might be appreciated.
So, how 'bout them Yankees?
First published at NYC to the Nines
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