A Year of Magic

I took this photo on my walk this morning using a retro camera app for added effect. But it's not the retro camera app that is so cool about this picture. Look closer. See the little black blob at the top of the tree? It's a bald eagle. A real, live American Bald Eagle---white head, golden beak, majestic stance.

I have to admit, it was pretty magical to come upon it. We were awestruck. It sat perfectly still as we walked along below it. I'm going to take it as a good sign, today being New Year's Eve and all. In many ways 2010 was a nice year, but in so many others, it kicked my trash as well as the trash of so many of my loved ones. I'm ready for a new year. I have high hopes for 2011, for myself and for my loved ones. I'm ready for a little bit of magic, some delightful miracles, and some unexpected wonders.

Are you ready, too?

'Twas the Monday Before Christmas...

And all through the house,
There was crap that needed to be put away.
The kids were in bed
And there was a giant pile of laundry
To be folded.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Mama (in her ratty sweats)
Tore open the window
And dumped all the laundry outside.
Problem solved.

Playing Mind Games With My Christmas Tree

I'm stalking my Christmas tree. I can't leave it alone. I spend almost all my time right near it, inching my way on the couch to be within arm's/branch's reach. Sometimes I switch to the chair on the other side of it; the view is nice from there too. I wonder if the tree wants me to back off and find some other friends. I wonder if it thinks I should have spent more time fluffing its artificial branches when I set it up. I wonder if it feels naked in the back where there aren't any ornaments. I wonder if it wants to be friends on facebook. I wonder why it never writes clever messages to me on Twitter. I wonder if it knows that I'm considering a real tree next year. Heyyyyy. That would be a game changer, wouldn't it?

Wait, it would say, I don't understand. You can't leave me alone, for crying out loud! And now you're talking about replacing me?


I bet that would make my tree less critical of my overbearing codependence. Who's calling the shots now, tree, huh?

10 Things I've Never Told You Before

1. I'm afraid of mountain men.
2. I bite the insides of my cheeks.
3. I sometimes sleep without a pillow.
4. I am suspicious of Giada de Laurentiis, though I can't explain why.
5. Every day, doing my hair feels like an enormous gamble.
6. I love driving my car.
7. I like wearing hats. (See number 5.)
8. I used to have the book How the Grinch Stole Christmas memorized.
9. I don't like sporting events because the end is not pre-determined, which I think is why most people like sporting events.
10. When people talk baby talk without a baby (or dog) present, it makes me feel violent. I hate baby talk.

Christmas Came Early

Confession: I bought myself a Christmas gift.
(I almost got it for free, so that's okay, right?)
It is the Clapper.
Actually, it's the Clapper Plus (with a remote control!).
I couldn't wait for Christmas.
(Because I'm a parent now and nobody can tell me what to do.)
Tore it open, right there in the kitchen.
I am beyond excited about it.
Because now I don't have to climb over my living room couch to turn the lamps on.
Go ahead, make fun.
Someday you'll realize,
As I did,
That it's actually a marvelous invention.

Updates, updates, updates

Let's play catch-up, shall we? It's a really fun game in which I write down all the stuff I've been doing so that I remember it in ten years. You can read it if you want. Or, you can look at this random picture of my kids.

So much of our daily life is explained in this one simple picture. (Sigh.)

Now, for the updates:

We ate Thanksgiving dinner alone at a nice-ish buffet at Longwood Gardens. It was meh. A few days later, we had Thanksgiving Do Over that I cooked myself. It was much better. I highly recommend doing over holidays that aren't quite right.

A week after Thanksgiving, we flew out to Utah for a quick holiday visit and had a great, fun-filled, exhausting time. Here's a shot of my family party. Believe it or not, there are several family members not in the photo.

Then, that night, we had Ryan's family party. Jesse and his band, Herod the Fink, performed and rocked the house with their awesome Christmas tunes. (Have you bought the CD yet?)

We came home to Lucy, who yipped and pawed at my leg for 45 entire minutes and made me promise to never, ever leave her again.

Another update: I've been keeping (somewhat) busy with freelance work, thanks to a couple of great ad agencies in town who have been funneling work my way. My new motto is, "No project is too small!" However, I'm starting a big new project this week and, hopefully, an even bigger project in January. Thanks again for all the well-wishing and networking, my friends.

And yet another update: Last week, I pulled out my withering, neglected novel-in-progress. Even though it's a computer document, a giant puff of dust shot out of my computer screen when I opened it. I cringed, but I pushed up my sleeves and started writing again. It felt good.

Guess what? Another update: Ryan spent a few days last week in DC working on a very exciting project. I can't give you all the details, but he is now one degree of separation from President Obama, which means he is only TWO DEGREES OF SEPARATION FROM OPRAH! He doesn't like to admit it, but he's sort of a big deal.

Would you like one more update? Christian tried out and made his middle school basketball team last week. Yahoo! Later today I plan to purchase a season's worth of non-toxic, non-comedogenic paint (in school colors, of course) to paint my face and belly for all of the home games. You know, because I'm a cool mom.

We're all caught up now. Have a wonderful Monday.

Reading Time

Scene: In the kitchen, dutifully making dinner, I call to Max in the family room to get a book to read for homework. Several minutes later, he still hasn't appeared with the book.

Me: Max! For the tenth time, go get a book to read!

Max: I did!

Me: Which one did you choose?

Max: The Crap in the Bathtub!

Me: Which one?!

Max: The Crap in the Bathtub!

Me: Max, read the title again.

Max: What do you mean? It says, The Crap in the Bathtub!

Me: No it doesn't. Read it again. Carefully.

Max: Ohhhhhh. The Carp in the Bathtub.

The Best Five Dollars You'll Spend This Season

Today is my brother Jesse's birthday. (Happy birthday, Jesse!) He's in a band called Herod the Fink. And his band is a Christmas band. (How cool is that?) It's all original music about Christmas and the ideas and feelings---silly and serious---that fill our hearts this time of year. The album is so good. It's my personal Christmas soundtrack this year. Here is my favorite song; it's called Back to 337, which is also the name of the album. (If you're reading on Google Reader, you'll have to come on over to my actual site to get the link.)



People, you can download the entire album for only five piddley dollars. You should skip that combo meal and buy this album instead. It will enrich your entire season, I promise.

And one more cool thing? Jesse and his band mate Jason are putting on free concerts this season. Their dates are filling up, but if you live in Utah, you should look into having them come and rock your Christmas party. We had them rock Ryan's family party on Saturday night and it was the highlight of my trip. Find out more information on their website.

Happy birthday, Jess, and Merry Christmas to everyone else!

Guess Which One

One of these boys has been drafting a Christmas list all weekend. It includes---but is certainly not limited to---the following items:

• Porsche 911 all-black racing car
• The best Pokémon card in the world
• Infinity real dollars 
• A remote control helicopter with a camera
• A catapult
• Spy cameras
• A real butler
• A real guard
• A massaging chair
• A real cheeseburger restaurant

I like all the emphasis on "real" in this list. Because this list is truly based in reality. 

Okay, time's up. Did you figure out who's list it is?

One Thankful Memory

Rather than flood you with a list of all my grateful minutiae (one of which is actually the word minutiae, I love to say it), I want to share a thankful memory. It came to me over the weekend and it keeps driving around my thoughts, tripping my tear ducts and making me appear to well up in emotion at completely random moments. Like during toilet paper commercials.

The memory is of my sister Leslie's little red Honda. It was old and inconsistent and sort of the anti-luxury vehicle, but I loved that car. It was cool in its own hatchback way. It didn't have a formal clutch but you did have to shift it from first to second, which I adored. I once referred to it as a semi-automatic and got an unintended big laugh. The car eventually earned the name DAMMIT!, for such was it called. (It had a knack for dying. In intersections.)

But the thing about the red Honda, the thing I'm thankful for, is the memory of seeing it pull up to my middle school at the end of the school day, my big sister Leslie behind the wheel. She picked me up and drove me away, sparing me a two mile walk and time to ruminate over another miserable day. She was a teenager with a boyfriend and girlfriends all of her own regular teenage minutiae (so thankful for that word!) and yet, she showed up again and again and again. Just to be nice. It was a little thing that meant a lot.

Did I ever thank you, Leslie? Thank you. To borrow a phrase from my 14-year-old self, Seriously, like, for reals.

This memory bubbled to the surface after discussing a blog post I came across last week. (If you were the one who shared it with me, thank you!) It gave me a lot to think about. If you have a minute, check it out.

And while we're on the subject, I'm also thankful for you, kindly blog readers. You are nice to me again and again and again. It's a little thing that means a lot. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving and eat right up to the delicate border between Blissfully Full and Mournfully Overstuffed. You deserve it.

Ten Minutes of Random

• Been a while since I went random on you.
• I kind of stopped the random thing as soon as I sensed it was trendy.
• Trendy-ness confounds me.
• I am equally drawn to it and repelled by it.
• Like that weird, thick space between two magnets with the same charge.
• Remember when the movie Titanic came out?
• That was really trendy.
• I didn't see it for about three years.
• Because I'm principled like that.
• What was I proving and to whom?
• Dunno.
• Anyway, here I am, back and spouting random thoughts.
• Like this one: I had an enormous zit on my lip yesterday.
• It was Titanic in scope.
• I tried to ignore it.
• Ignoring it is recommended by Seventeen magazine.
• As well as four out of five dentists.
• I ignored it until 2:00 p.m.
• Then I performed home surgery on it.
• My eyes were watering, it hurt so bad.
• It was like giving birth through a tiny pore on the edge of my lip.
• I wished for an epidural.
• Or a lipidural.
• I also wished for lyposuction.
• Because you might as well wish for a couple of things at once.
• Just in case there are some 2-for-1 wishing specials.
• Wish update: not granted. 
• None of the above.
• In other news, I can't get enough of Food Network.
• Especially this time of year.
• I've watched approximately 144 Thanksgiving meals prepared in the last two weeks.
• It fulfills me in a way that is difficult to describe.
• I'm afraid, though, that when Thanksgiving rolls around, I'll only be in the mood for tacos.
• But I don't care.
• I'm going to watch more Food Network.
• Because I'm risky like that.
• One last thought.
• I've been sipping a 5-hour energy drink all day.
• How does the math work on that?

The Family That Saves Together

Since losing most of my job a couple of weeks ago, we've been fully engaged in Operation Tight Belt around here.  I have to tell you, it's pretty amazing how much money we've been able to save by doing just a few simple things, such as:

• turning off lights 
• lowering the thermostat a bit
• wearing clothes more than once 
• eating at home
• letting the dog clean the dishes
• charging the neighbor kids to use our bathroom
• panhandling
• shoplifting
• extortion
• blackmail
• knocking over convenience stores

I'm happy to say that we've really grown together as a family, and you simply can't put a price on that.

(Seriously, though, things are okay here. A great big thank you to everyone who has reached out with support and networking. I am blessed with the world's best friends and family. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Good things are to come.)

Common Mistake

Max: I thought up another joke for when I'm a Canadian.

Me: I think you mean comedian.

Max: Gahhh! I keep getting those confused.

Cathedrals? You Want Cathedrals?

Ryan asked me why I took a trip to Europe and all I've been sharing are pictures of cars, mustards, and luggage. It's all about the story, I told him. Those are the stories that came out first.

But if you want a story about cathedrals, I can give you one.

We saw a lot of cathedrals. We saw cathedrals that were buried underground, under the city, under a new modern world.

We saw other cathedrals that were grand and foreboding and bustling with tourists.

There were some that were famous because of people who worshipped there (namely, a young Pope John Paul II).

There were some that looked like castles.

And some that were solitary, quiet and chill.

There was plenty of hauntingly beautiful stained glass.

And plenty of beautifully haunting sculpture and art.

There were cathedrals to lose yourself in.

And there were some to set you straight. (Well, at least your watch.)

Here is the thing about cathedrals---I can't help but think about the building of them. I can barely imagine the blueprints, the finding and preparing of materials, the back-breaking labor to create them. I look at the arches and steeples, practically on their tippy toes as they reach for heaven, and the thought crosses my mind that they might be trying too hard. (Bless their hearts.) I want to say Hey, Cathedral, you're coming on a bit too strong. Take it down a notch. You don't have to kill yourself, throwing up every ornate idea that ever crossed your mind. God is just as into minimalism. (I think.)

Then I realize that I have judged, something God himself advises against, and I feel sort of bad.

The truth is, cathedrals don't do it for me. In all honesty, the most spiritual moment I felt inside any one of these buildings was when I looked at this.

The picture doesn't do it justice, but I promise it was spectacular. Yes, the window itself was jaw-dropping, but it was all the fuzzy reflections on the wall that stopped me, stirred something inside. The colors were brilliant and ethereal, real yet not real in the very same moment. In retrospect, maybe that's what I missed. Maybe that's the whole entire point. Maybe the purpose of a cathedral is not about building something beautiful for God, but about building something that lets us see God's beauty reflected back. I can imagine God sighing and saying, Thanks for the pretty window, but let me show you what I can do.

I don't know. That kind of makes God seem like a one-upper, but maybe you get what I mean.

The Things We Carried

Please tell me you've seen Joe Versus The Volcano. It's a fine piece of cinema and the most adorable example of the Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan chemistry we all used to know and love. If you've seen it, you'll understand why I had to take a photo of this trunk in the window of Louis Vuitton in Vienna. Joe was going to jump in a volcano, and therefore needed good luggage. In fact, (SPOILER ALERT FOR A MOVIE FROM 1990!) the luggage eventually saves Joe's life.

Our luggage, on the other hand, nearly killed us on our trip. You know how people say you should pack light when you travel, especially overseas? It turns out that they were not only serious about that, but completely accurate. Lugging around your stuff, even stuff you love, sucks like a Hoover. When I packed a couple of extra shirts in my bag, they weighed only a fraction of an ounce. By the time I'd transferred them on and off two airplanes, two trains, two taxis and one bus, they weighed 23 pounds. Each.

Before he packed his bags, Ryan downloaded travel guru Rick Steve's recommended packing list. It basically said to bring two shirts, one jacket, a pair of pants and a toothbrush. Oh, and some clean underwear if you're into that sort of thing. Ryan puzzled over the list for a few minutes, then tossed it over his shoulder and said, "That guy's an idiot."

Oh, Rick Steves. We repent and grovel and request thy forgiveness.

Ryan realized pretty quickly of his mistake and tried to warn me, since I was joining him later, but the thing about life is that you really can't avoid some of the big mistakes just because people wiser and more experienced than you tell you in exact, step-by-step detail how to avoid them.

Dear Self of Early October, CURSE YOU AND YOUR AMPLE VARIETY OF WELL COORDINATED OUTFITS! Auf Wiedersehen, Mid-October Self.

To add insult to injury (or backache to arm ache), I picked up some fragile souvenirs that were made out of ceramic and (apparently) lead. That tube of mustard I blogged about? It weighs 108 pounds. The bags just kept getting heavier and heavier. And with every heave and ho, we smacked our foreheads with more and more resentment.

The next time around, we will be so wise. We will print out a new Rick Steves packing list and we will hold it lovingly in our arms. We will study it and honor it and follow it with the exactness. And when we are tempted to put that extra t-shirt into our tiny suitcase, the one that is begging to be worn overseas and immortalized in vacation photos, we will say to that extra t-shirt, "Go jump in a volcano."