Getting a grip

Wednesday was a bad day. The only way I can say it here is... WEDNESDAY WAS A BAD DAY AT WORK. We rushed home in ridiculous traffic to meet the dryer repair guy, who made it to our house before we did. Whoops.

Since I spent the entire car ride home complaining about my HORRIBLE DAY, I walked in the front door and began my other form of decompressing: cooking dinner. I started putzing and chopping onion, whirred up some rosemary bread crumbs in my handy food processor, generally got my inner Ina flowing. Mmm. Meanwhile Dustin started to chat with the repair guy about soccer and this famous player from Repair Guy's home country, Ivory Coast. And that's when I perked up. Have you heard of Didier Drogba?

From Wikipedia...

Drogba is credited with playing a vital role in bringing peace to his country. After Côte d'Ivoire qualified for the 2006 World Cup, Drogba made a desperate plea to the combatants, asking them to lay down their arms, a plea which was answered with a cease fire after five years of civil war. Drogba later helped move an African Cup of Nations qualifier to the rebel stronghold of Bouake; a move that helped confirm the peace process. In September 2011, Drogba joined the Truth, Reconciliation and Dialogue Commission as a representative to help return peace to his home nation. His involvement in the peace process lead to Drogba being named as one of the world's 100 most influential people by Time magazine for 2010.

<sup>I'm sorry, but I generally don't buy the athletes as heroes spiel. But this soccer player literally SAVED LIVES. And he's one of the reasons that I believe in soccer as a global institution. It has value beyond basic entertainment. It's unifying on a level no other sport is. Sorry, hockey fans. Sorry.

Anyway, we chatted about Didier, and then Repair Guy, whose name we learned is Konate, started asking me about Rachael Ray. Hello Konate, let's be best friends. You have built a legitimate business as an immigrant, you speak six languages (French, English, Arabic and three tribal dialects), you like Didier Drogba, AND you want to talk to me about the Food Network?

Konate stayed for two hours, much longer than it took to fix our dryer, telling us all about his tribal initiation into manhood at 13 (running through the jungle while the older men make fake hyena calls trying to scare you), marrying his wife (who was chosen for him by his uncle), and raising his three kids in the United States (he believes that his kids owe their whole futures to their teachers, so they better not screw around in class).

Then he shook our hands, congratulated us on this upcoming baby, and dashed down our driveway into the pouring rain. I looked at Dustin and giggled, and I realized my world is still cracking open wider than my bad days.</sup>

Good News

Several crotchety people in my periphery have complained this week about all the royal wedding hoopla. You want to know what I think?

When the world holds its breath, it's always for bad news. Earthquakes, terrorism, assassinations, scandals. Today the world held its breath for hope and joy and BEAUTY. Alexander McQueen-style beauty. Ancient tradition-style beauty. It's not everyday we can all stand up and cheer. (Except for Grace Van Mumsen.)

Long live the queen!

True Life: I am working retail

A few months ago it was clear this whole homeownership gig was going to be a LOT MORE MONEY than we planned. And we planned for a lot of stuff, but who can imagine a house with brand new windows would *literally* be 61 degrees all winter? No matter how much one pumps the heat, frigid we remain. I finally feel justified when I go to REI for high quality ski gear.

Thus, I got another job. Have I already told you this? (Side note: I'm going to put it all out there today and tell you that this new, sent-from-heaven medicine called Pristiq also affects my memory. I am upbeat, energetic, not depressed, which is the point (!!), but boy do I forget my thought in the middle of the sentence. Time will tell if this side effect is tolerable. But for now: spacey!)

What was I saying? Just kidding, I looked at my last paragraph for a refresher. I got another job. I'm making coffee at a new little shop in South Lake Union called Kakao. (Please don't stalk me if you're a weirdo.)

I LOVE IT. But first I hated it. First of all, I haven't really been a coffee drinker since I am so naturally energetic. Duh! So I didn't feel confident in terms of what the drinks should taste like, or what people meant when they said no foam. Foam? Like a mattress? What was I saying? This was also compounded by some very, very low expectations set for me by my friend Rory.

"I promise you that all you need to know about making lattes can be learned in one afternoon."

Maybe the fact that Rory is my age, has a master's in creative writing, likes to do calculus for FUN (Still? Who does that?), and has a column for McSweeney's should have tipped me off that my learning curve might be steeper. But it didn't. Because I am not depressed but spacey. Unlike Rory, who has his career in the bag and kicks ass.

After several miserable training sessions, from which I left covered in scalded milk and espresso stained fingernails, I nearly quit. I even planned a little speech about why the bus schedule had changed (it did), but somehow I persevered. Just kidding, we were just desperate for the money!

But it got better. Little by little, I got the hang of steaming milk. And I have learned all about the bouquet of espresso, and thanks to the early mornings, my body is happy for the caffeine. One day someone ordered a breve and I had to stick my head under the counter and pretend to look for lids, but actually I was googling breve. But nobody caught me, and that lady left happy.

Best of all, I have made lovely friends. The fellow baristas are my new favorite people--they are all in grad school and inspire me to get gutsy with my vocation--and the customers. I think baristas in Seattle serve more as bartending therapists more than I knew. What to say to all the Amazon employees that think nothing of coming TWICE a day for a $4.00 latte and a heart to heart?

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Janruary

I can't tell you how delightful it feels...

...to put some creative SPRING back in my step.

Even though my only camera is on my phone...

I think you can tell I've been quite busy.

(Ruby likes to observe the art up close. Preferably

while she's wearing adult clothing.)

I roasted a lady-like chicken for sustenance.

And I made a plum tart/pie/thing for dessert.

(I ate this whole thing by myself while Dustin

suffered through P90X in the other room. Sucker.)

Then I spent some time with a mismatched baby.

(I adore him.) (My use of parentheses is wild and rampant.)

Then we flew to California so I could hold my other favorite baby, Ike.

THE END.

Melancholia

There is something about January 1st that ushers in a pesky sense of ennui for me. It's not that I don't love the holidays, and it's not that I'm really sad they're over, either. I just get really, really lonely, like I've finally become friends with the past year and now I'm moving away.

We've been shuffling through our house these last two days with a combination of relief and exhaustion--just five days of Christmas travel wore us out! But even through the mopes, I can look back on 2009 and see many happy moments. More exciting though (I hope), is my newfound determination to create a Bucket List. No time like the present, eh?

1. Take a cooking class in a foreign country.

2. Share a meal with a famous person who doesn't know I know she's famous (stalking?).

3. Explore the vast variety of Christian traditions... read more.

4. Visit a monastery (see #3).

5. Live in a place where I am a minority.

6. Give away 30% of my income for an entire year.

7. Float in the Dead Sea.

8. Own a Burberry trench coat.

9. Write a book about food and childhood.

10. Learn the rules of soccer so that I may teach my children.

11. Name a child after someone I love.

12. Sew a quilt for my mom.

13. Participate in mental health care advocacy.

14. Find my perfect lipstick color.

15. Appreciate the texture of my hair.

16. Figure out how to make my money grow.

17. Run a 5K. Alone.

18. Run a 10K. With Dustin.

19. Vacation with friends.

20. Care for a foster child.

21. Attend a benefit gala for a museum.

22. Volunteer at big city library.

23. Grow chard with great success.

24. Learn about metabolism.

25. Wear short hair.

26. Appreciate my nose.

27. Knit a baby blanket.

28. Drive a vintage Mercedes.

29. Swim across a lake.

30. Celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary.

I'll keep you posted on how many I can check off in 2010, but I'm hoping I make tracks...

I Realize I'm a Lazy Blogger

But people, why write when you can cut and paste stuff this classic?

http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/2009/02/500.html

The laughter and cringing both come in waves, beware.

Recently Asked Questions (aka Finslippy Junior)

How is your new job going so far?
Well, I really love it. That's the short answer. The long answer is that I love it so much I am compelled to be very insecure about things like my WPM rates and whether or not I remember how to find the meaning of the universe using Excel formulas. In Vista. Even though we don't even use Vista. Basically, I always doubt myself when I'm learning something new--I somehow expect perfection of myself from Day One, and I incessantly obsess over things like, "If I don't figure out how to format this letterhead by the time my lunch break rolls around, I AM GOING TO GET SACKED! Eek!" I know this is ludicrous, but it's just one many areas that I'm realizing, "Holly, go ahead and feel okay about yourself. It's alright. You paid your dues in junior high. MOVE ON."

What's marriage like for you, you young, naive thing?
I hate to use words like this, because I somehow think people might misunderstand me as an unloving, not-that-into-her-husband kind of wife, but I'd say being married is mysterious. And complicated. And very, very rich. All words that can carry lots of subtext, but in this case, it's good subtext. We have some sweet mentors who always remind us that conflict, and the subsequent gobs of conversation we tend to have, is a sign of excellent health. According to Those Two, it's a sign that we're already wrestling with the stuff that's going to root us in the habit of Marriage Maintenance. Don't be jealous of that crafty label, I already submitted in to Les and Leslie's "Naming Our Inimitable Marriage Conferences Contest". And don't think we have lost all our youthful spark--just tonight Dustin tried to put Girl Scout Cookies down my shirt.

Do you remember any grammar rules whatsoever? Is Grammar Girl ashamed she ever let you interview her?
Obviously I remember nothing. I am a failed subject. Because I write cliches constantly. And I nearly stumbled on some SUBJECT-VERB agreement last week. And I couldn't remember the term I needed...ah...blech...what's is caaaaaalled? Oh. A modifier. Thank goodness for Carly, who saved me from an embarrassing 80 invitation error. And thanks for mentioning that interview with Grammar Girl, I something forget about that, THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE!

What did you eat for dinner tonight?
Mmmm, this, I can confidently say, was a smashing success. Homemade tortillas, roasted tomatoes and sweet corn, marbley steak in an orange and chili marinade, and Crystal Light. (It can't ALL be from the farmer's market, okay?) It was great. We used cloth napkins and lit candles. Cheaper than Canlis.

How was that trip you took to Mexico? Are you like, addicted to cheesy mission trips or something? You're practically a...nevermind.
I'm not sure why I keep signing up for those thingamabobs, except every time I come home I feel like I've tasted an experience that smacks of humanity--the good, the bad, and the ugly. And somehow, in the midst of connecting with good folk in another language, in another world entirely, I feel small enough to let God be God again. And I need to remind myself of that more often.

Are you willing to continue talking about yourself, for the sake of us, your readers?
Duh. How else will I figure life out?

What I've Been Up To (In Life Thus Far)

Bold is where I've boldly gone, as of 2008, aged 23.

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland

8. Climbed a mountain

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo

11. Bungee jumped

12. Visited Paris

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France

20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitch hiked

23. Taken a sick day when you're not ill

24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb

26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Run a marathon

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34.Visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35. Seen an Amish community

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa

39. Gone rock climbing

40. Seen Michelangelo's David

41. Sung karaoke

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted

48. Gone deep sea fishing

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in movie theatre

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout cookies

62. Gone whale watching

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood

65. Gone sky diving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp

67. Bounced a check

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten caviar

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the paper

85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone's life

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby

95. Seen the Alamo

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee

100. Read an entire book in one day

It's funny how I felt a tad inadequate admitting all the things I haven't done (Never read the entire Bible! Never donated blood! Visited Washington but not the White House!). 

But then I look at what I have done, and I guess it's not so bad. I really did save a life once (animal cracker, toddler, Heimlich). Thanks, MaShaw, for the idea.

Oldyweds

Tonight, I could count up about fifteen times Dustin made me laugh OUT LOUD. LOUDLY. And the best part is that our morning got off to a rocky start, and it went something like this...

1. Dustin pulls out onto Alaskan Way in front of a large Dodge Charger. They don't call it a Charger for nothin' because I nearly died. We nearly died.
2. After returning safely to our humble abode, Dustin offers to make us breakfast burritos. And then he proceeds to scramble eggs in the most ABSURD fashion (with hardly any gusto, none), I can't contain myself! I scream, loudly, BE A MAN WHEN YOU SCRAMBLE THOSE EGGS! USE THE WHISK! He looks at me, cracks up laughing, and says, I love it when I get to do things my way, and it makes you CRAZY! Muahahaha! Then I put him in a virtual headlock, I calm down, and I eat the eggs the way he made them.
3. The rest of the day was full of very entertaining activities, including cleaning a vacant apartment together, eating Wheat Thins with cream cheese and salsa verde, a walk to the Fremont Market, a visit from Kryland and a walk home with a bookshelf in hand. And rainbow chard and chiogga beets.
4. This post should have been more organized, but let's be honest, my college education is officially wearing off, and I may be unemployed, but IN BLOGGING THERE IS FREEDOM!

antes de salir, yo quiero decir...

Some days are so full of, humanity, I guess you could say, that I imagine I'm actually in a movie, Garden State, perhaps, and that there are Natalie Merchant songs playing as the camera of Life flies high above my head and pans to a view of the wide open road.

Why do I have such fantasies, you ask?

Let me tell you.

Last night my friends Jared and Rachael stopped by with a little happy for me--they had offered to help send me to El Salvador, and LO AND BEHOLD--let's just say their generosity knows no bounds. Two fresh college graduates, pulling their hair out over med school interviews and zany restaurant jobs, and they managed to pay HALF of my remaining costs. A miracle! And a most humbling one for me, when I realize that the steps that have led me to Agros, as much as I detest this kind of Christian-ese, seem providential. I don't mind.


Then this morning I headed to church for my usual dose of preschooler playtime, and in our teacher meeting, the whole crew suddenly wanted to head all about my said trip. And of course people have been interested, willing to listen and all that, but in our short get-together these women were suddenly chomping at the bit to hear about the work, the purpose, the community, the dangers (oh my!) and the team of travelers. I can't tell you how lovely it felt to receive their blessings on our journey. My job as glorified day care provider certainly has its perks.

Sweet baby with huge brown eyes, dramatic curls and exceptional eating habits laid sweet dramatic curls on my shoulder all afternoon. Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.

In midst of sweet baby's nap, I started reading archives on Dooce.com (thank you, Carly), and I must say, I DEFINITELY wish she were my next door neighbor. Not in Utah, of course, but somewhere warm and sunny, but not annoyingly beachy (let me know if you think of the place I'm imagining). Anyway, her blog is thoroughly tagged (you'll notice I'm now inspired to do the same), self-aware (she acknowledges her love of the CAPS LOCK key, and I'm now acknowledging my obsession with parentheses), and contains the story of her very layered life. I was most interested in reading the posts about her journey through postpartum depression and her subsequent treatment in a psychiatric ward. And how she's thriving today. Do read her stories--they are priceless.

And then. I came home to a very full mailbox--February's Martha Stewart, my gift subscription (thanks Son!) to Cooking Light, and this is what made me cry and feel very, very human: a postcard from the City of Seattle about the Aurora Bridge Suicide Prevention Fence.

I know that in many ways, I will always well up and cringe and weep and remember at the thought of suicide, and I appreciate having had the experience to make me understand how shitty it is...but there's something about a community coming together to prevent suicide in this way...I just appreciate it. A lot. I know there's more to be done, hotlines, better mental health resources, less stigma, but this seems like an important part of the solution. No more plastic crosses flicking in the bursts of trafficky breezes. It's a small start, but I'm glad we're taking it. Seattle just gets it, I think. And it makes me proud.