Where Have I Been

When I don't blog for a week or two I get completely overwhelmed with all the things I should have blogged about and wanted to blog about...and then my mind gets paralyzed and can't think of anything of any interest to anyone.  So, it is in an attempt to get myself blogging again that I make this entry.  It is in the spirit of one of my favorite bloggers, the yarnharlot, who often writes numbered lists of random happenings.  Here goes:

1. We were thieved.  A hoodlum broke into our garage and took our Garmin (GPS) and Brian's circular saw.  I guess my dad's right.  We live in the ghetto.  But I'm sure that crack-head needed the money worse than we needed that circular saw or the somewhat untrustworthy navigational device.
2. I acquired the lamest sports injury in history.  I took a long walk.  And after that I couldn't walk for days.  According to the internet, I probably had a bit of tendonitis.  From walking.  Are you kidding me?
3. I read a list of symptoms for goiter.  I concluded that I did not in fact have goiter.  I woke up the next morning with goiter.  It's better now.
4. I have been crying excessively for the last two weeks.  The last episode of "The Office" made me a wreck.  My mom recited "The Road Less Traveled" at Easter dinner and I blubbered like a baby the entire time.  I have turned into a sentimental sap.  More so than before.  It's probably a symptom of goiter.
5. I finished the "Harry Potter" book series.  Ten years later than the rest of the world.  But wow, were they ever good!
6. I had an exhilarating library experience.  I requested that the library purchase about five books.  And they did.  And they held them for me so that I could read them first.  The power may have gone to my head. 
7. We spent a lovely weekend in Indy with Brian's parents in which we ate copious amounts of meat.  Mmmmmmmm...
8. Our sweet 1995 Taurus has finally been repaired, i.e. it no longer has its "sweet purr" as I liked to refer to it.  The purr had turned into a roar.  You're welcome neighborhood.  We have done our part to make this area a little less ghetto.
9. In February I took a bunch of items to area consignment shops.  Last week I went and collected $45 dollars from them.  I did not have to get up early, put out tables, put stupid price stickers on anything, and make small talk with strange neighbors.  I will never have another garage sale as long as I live. 
10. My brother-in-law claimed that if you put an orange in a sock and beat somebody with it, they'll be hurt badly but won't bruise.  So guess what we did this weekend after purchasing oranges?  He was wrong.  I have a bruise on my arm from where I beat my own self with a sock-orange.  Brian was the only one smart enough to not take part in this experiment.

In related news: I made it throught the Lent season without shampooing or conditioning my hair.  There were some rough days.  I over-baking-soda'd my hair one day and ended up with a grease bomb living on top of my head.  Then I got some control but I was hating it.  The top of my head was greasy and the tips of my hair were DRY and resembled a bristle broom.  It was disaster. 

I scoured the internet trying to figure out where I was going wrong.  The helpful advice I found said: "Play around with the proportions and methods.  You'll figure out what works for you."  I don't want to play around!  I just want someone to tell me what the three options are and spell out how to do them so I can end this torture!!  One person said "don't use too much baking soda because it will end up making your hair more greasy."  Another said, "If your hair is greasy you need to add some more baking soda."  Thank you so much to the granola-eating-birkentstock-wearing-hippies who can't give me CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO GET MY HAIR CLEAN. 

I finally found what has worked for me, thanks to one kind person who made a comment on another blog with some clear instructions.  I have a mixture of roughly two tablespoons of baking soda to one cup of water.  I mix the baking soda with HOT water and shake it until dissolved. (The baking soda should have a slippery, not gritty feel.)  I get my hair dripping wet, and then apply the mixture.  Rub it in.  Let it sit while I brush my teeth.  (Yes, I brush my teeth in the shower...makes way more sense.)  Then rinse it out really good.  I then rinse the ends only of my hair with my vinegar mixture.  (1 Tbs. Vinegar/1 C. Water)  And then I rinse that out. 

I think I'm going to stick with it for a while.  I don't ever want to go through that adjustment period again.  So I'll keep it going until a.) I'm wealthy and can afford really delightful organic hair products or b.) I'm too lazy to take it any longer. 

With that, I leave you with a few pictures of what my hair looked like a few weeks into the project - and I wish you a happy spring!!!

Mary Oliver

Is there some reason I never knew that the poet Mary Oliver existed?

Last night after attending an absolutely delightful yoga class with my friend Heather (led by Jamie Robinson) our yogi read us a Mary Oliver poem as we relaxed at the end of class. It was so gentle and moving as we lay there, after having twisted our bodies like pretzels for an hour, to be caressed by this inspiring poem. He read it twice so we could soak up the words. And then, he rang a singing bowl. And frankly, I could not have loved him any more than I did at that point. (You may not know that I have a singing bowl given to me by my mother-in-law. A bowl that I love deeply and has been carted around to all sorts of places because it soothes my soul. And it's sort of a party hit.)

The poem connected with me in a way that poetry hasn't for some time - maybe because I haven't spent time reading much poetry and fostering my love for it. And frankly I think most of us need more poetry in our lives. So today I took some time reading her poetry online - and was completely entranced. I have visions of printing these poems out and wallpapering my house with them. They are that good.

I share with you the poem that inspired me last night:

Mornings at Blackwater

For years, every morning, I drank
from Blackwater Pond.
It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.

And it always assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.
And live
your life.

-Mary Oliver

Au Claire De La Lune

I am writing this particular entry in order to try to exercise the demons that have taken hold of me in the month of December. Here's what's happened:

For the last several years I've heard (and I imagine that you would have to live under a rock to not have heard) of the Twilight craze that had hit the teenage girl scene. I bemusedly listened to accounts of young girls going nutty waiting for the first movie to premiere, imagining it was much in the same vein as the New Kids on the Block hysteria that I experienced as a young teen. And then I heard a report on NPR about how the craze had swept more than just teenage girls, but women of all ages. And I thought, "hmmm...maybe these books would be fun to read, sort of like the Harry Potter books."

I put it out my head more or less, deciding I would not get involved in this, obviously, silly and superficial Twilight madness. Then people I knew and even liked started telling me how good the books were. I began surveying the teenage girls at my church to see if they had read them, and if they could give me the 411. They definitely were fans but none of them actually owned copies of the books so that I could borrow them. (Freeloading teenagers...borrowing them from cousins and whatnot.) I casually checked our library for them and the waiting list was 15 people long. Eh, not worth it. I'd just keep checking around every now and again to see if I could borrow them. And the happy reports from friends my age, and older, who had read the books just seemed to be multiplying.

So, a few weeks ago I took a long-overdue trip to the library to leisurely wander the shelves of books (a pleasure that never gets old for me). I decided to see if the first book of the Twilight series was there on some off chance that I might luck out. The computer told me that two copies were available. I'd have to enter the "young adult" section to find them, a section I had yet to experience. I tried to very casually head in that direction, feeling slightly embarrassed at what I was about to do. The books weren't there. I went back to the computer and searched again. Two available copies. I went back to the young adult section. Nothing. I glanced at the librarians at the reference desk. I had never asked for assistance from a librarian before. But it was the young adult section, maybe I didn't know how to properly locate a book in that realm. But I was NOT going to ask a librarian to help me find Twilight of all things. How shameful, acting like a teenager, giving into the status quo. But I did want to read it and the computer told me it should be there. I decided to bite the bullet and ask. I sheepishly asked the librarian for assistance. She didn't see them on the shelves and suggested that they might be in the back waiting to be re-shelved. She went into the back and came right back carrying a copy of Twilight. I felt compelled to make some explanation to her about why I wanted to read the book and express my chagrin. But she, in a conspiratorial tone, assured me that all of the librarians had started reading them and then had just gobbled up the series. Whew! This kind woman made me feel like she did not judge me for wanting to read this book.

Others would judge me. And you may be one of them now. But you can go ahead and judge me. I defy you to read these books and not be completely taken in. Even if you don't like them, I don't care. I would declare my love for these books from a mountain top.

I returned home from my library visit and decided to read the first few chapters of Twilight and see what all the hype was about. Six hours later I finally put the book down and went and got supper with Brian. It was definitely a great read...certainly geared for teen girls but entertaining none the less.

I was able to avoid picking it up again for a few days but took it with me to Brian's parents' house over Thanksgiving weekend...where I stayed up until 2:00 in the morning one night and finished it. Definitely a satisfying read. I looked forward to reading the next books, not knowing how long I'd have to wait in line at the library or who I could borrow them from, but not feeling panicked about it. Then one of my knitting friends, Rhonda, brought me books two and three (in a four book series).

And that's when it began. The feverish, fiery obsession with the romance of Bella and Edward took over my life and I haven't been the same since. I began reading the second book in bed on a Saturday morning at about 1:00 a.m. I read for a few hours. The beginning of the second book is devastating. Long gone were the thoughts about these books being somewhat juvenile. I was completely caught up in the world of Bella and Edward. I read the entire book in less than 24 hours. (Just to put it in perspective, each book, while not thick, strenuous, reading, is between 560 and 630 pages in length.) I needed to get some work done on Saturday and I had to ask Brian to hide the books so that I couldn't give into my selfish desires to do nothing but sit and read. I did all my work with the motivation that when I finished, the glorious world of vampire, human, werewolf, romance and adventure was waiting for me to return. When my work was done I ran to the living room and happily demanded that Brian reveal to me the location of my obsession.

Before getting up for church on Sunday morning, I laid in bed thinking about Bella and Edward. I thought of them while I showered and continued to ponder them as I dried my hair. On the way to church every song that came on the radio reminded me of them...and I shared this with a now concerned husband. Sunday at church, all I could think about was Bella and Edward. (Brian requested prayer for me because he was worried about this seeming devotion to this fantasy world.) I talked to every teenage girl anywhere near me about the drama that was unfolding. I FORFEITED MY SUNDAY AFTERNOON NAP WILLINGLY TO BEGIN READING THE THIRD BOOK! I don't know if that means anything to all of you but I live my life for that Sunday afternoon nap. Brian and I intentionally don't make plans on Sunday afternoon if we can help it because our nap is sacred. When we bought a new couch last January we told the sales person that we were looking for a good napping couch and we used that criteria to select our new couch. Our friends know not to call us before 7:00 p.m. on Sundays because we won't answer the phone. We are almost religious in the observance of this family ritual. And I read my glorious book all through that holy nap time. I woke up on Monday morning and just surrendered. I knew I was useless until the book was finished. I sat and finished the book before cleaning my house and getting ready for piano lessons. But Bella and Edward were all I could think about all day. And now I was done with the third book. Where would I find the fourth? I watched the movie trailers online to pass the time and see if they could give me any new insight into the books.

I used to be a voracious reader. I was that geeky kid who tried to hide her leisure reading behind a text book during class. I never was without a book. And when I was reading a particularly good book I would always go into a bit of mourning when I read it too fast and the story was over. But as I entered adulthood it became more difficult to find books that gave me this same intense pleasure. When I did find one I would shut out the rest of the world (no cooking, cleaning, working, sleeping, or talking to Brian) until the book was over. And then I would mourn and feel empty...and decide it wasn't worth doing it again. And so months would go by without me ever picking up a book. Horrifying! And so the fact that these books had me hooked like this made me feel like I had been starving on a desert island somewhere and my appetite, with my first taste of food in ages, was now insatiable! But still, I would not act like a loony about these books. I would wait patiently for the fourth book.
We had a friend over to watch football the following Monday night. I decided that they might not mind if I was reading during football. I checked online at home to see if the library had the fourth book. TWO AVAILABLE COPIES!! I admitted to them where I was going. Colin judged me ("not you too Lisa!") and Brian rolled his eyes but my infatuation would not let their disapproval deter me. I headed to the library only to find...they were not on the shelves. No sweat. I knew what I needed to do, this wasn't my first rodeo. I talked to the librarian. She walked over to make sure I wasn't an idiot that hadn't seen them sitting on the shelves. My mind is shrieking "just go into the back and see if it's on a cart waiting to be re-shelved!" I can't stand this little dance. She heads into the back but comes back unsuccessful. She's trying to placate me giving me some silly story about how somebody must have already pulled it off the shelf and probably has it with them walking around. (I considered for one moment stalking all the other library-goers to see what they were holding but decided I wouldn't know what do in a confrontation since I haven't actually signed up for my martial arts class yet.) She put my name on a waiting list.
So I went down to the circulation desk. I eyeballed their full carts of books waiting to be re-shelved. I knew my book had to be on one of those carts. I asked the librarian calmly about the book. She wanted me to go back upstairs to talk to the reference desk. I explained evenly that I'd already been there, and asked if there was any chance it was down here. I tried to keep any hints of desperation out of my voice. But I got more panic stricken as it became clear that the nice lady behind the desk did not understand the urgency I was feeling. Clearly no one knew how important it was to me to have this book, I hadn't known until precisely that moment. I thought about demanding that she move out of my way so I could check the darn carts myself...but I kept a cool head.

Crestfallen, I headed back to my car intending to return home but found myself driving towards CVS wondering if there was any chance that I might be able to find the paperback there. They had the first two books (of course, because there are movies attached to them) but not the second two. No dice. I briefly considered driving to Wal-Mart and ending my long boycott to see if they had them. My weakness filled me with great shame. I would not do that. AND THEN! I had an idea. My iPod touch has a Kindle application. I didn't really want to read an entire book on an iPod, would it be the same without the satisfying weight of the book in my hand? However, it would give me closure. I felt certain that if I could just finish the fourth book I could end this madness and get back to living my life. So I downloaded it...and the judging looks came fast and furious from Colin and Brian as they watched football and I read my book on my tiny iPod screen.

They ordered pizza. I hadn't eaten all day but I wasn't even hungry. I ate two small pieces giving the crusts to Reggie and putting the third piece back in the box. I stayed up until 5:00 in the morning reading. Every time I blinked it felt like sandpaper rubbing on my glassy eyeballs. I walked to the kitchen (iPod in hand) to get a glass of water and caught a look at myself in the mirror above the sink. My eyes were bloodshot from all the reading I'd been doing. I just looked away and kept on going. Brian caught me reading as he was getting up for work. (I've been up knitting or reading that late before but I always try to be in bed pretending to be asleep by the time his alarms go off so he doesn't see how pathetic I am.) But this time it didn't matter to me. I did go to sleep and woke up four hours later and rushed to work. I knew I'd probably have to take a nap that afternoon because I would be exhausted. But when I got home from work I simply snatched up the iPod and picked up where I'd left off. I had no desire for sleep.

I made it through piano lessons and The Biggest Loser finale with friends (it was actually really good for me to get out) and went home and picked up my book. I was definitely tired at this point and sad that the books would be ending. I decided to leave a few chapters for the next day. I laid down in bed. Who was I kidding? I got back up and finished the book. GLORIOUS! The saga was over. The books were done. I had the whole post-book glow when I woke up the next morning, still not quite in touch with reality, more living in the dream world of these books.

And then...word that there was a book on the author's website that was incomplete. The first book written from Edward's perspective instead of Bella's, leaked by a disloyal source which resulted in the author discontinuing her work on it and posting what she did have complete to her website? Could this be true? My heart raced with the hope of material to quench my thirst for more insight into the story of Bella and Edward. I got to work and made the mistake of turning my computer on...and going directly to Stephenie Meyer's website. IT WAS THERE!!! Only 264 pages though. It wouldn't satisfy me but it would be something at least. I just wanted a quick taste to see what Edward's perspective was like. Hmmm...didn't get much done at work that day. I left work for some lunch but realized on the way that I wasn't hungry. So I drove around awhile listening to Ingrid Michaelson because every song of hers reminded me of Bella and Edward. And then I went back to work.

I almost didn't go to my knitting group that Wednesday evening so that I could go home and continue reading. (And I LOVE my knitting group.) I decided that was selfish and silly, and that I should probably visit with real people. I went and it was the best time ever, and it was thrilling to be able to talk about the Twilight books with other people who love the series. So I returned home. Brian, who had been without a wife for a few days now, knew enough to realize that we would not be really communicating much until I finished the on-line book. He was very patient. I finished it that evening. At midnight it occurred to me that I hadn't eaten that day so I scrounged up a few chips and nibbled a little bit.
I've tried to figure out what the allure is for me, why these books have captured me hook, line, and sinker. I couldn't understand. I know full and well that the feminist in me should probably be enraged by these books, ashamed and horrified. I ran an Internet search at one point to find some sort of Twilight detail out and several sights popped up accusing Edward of being an abusive boyfriend and the word misogyny popped up...and my mind screamed "LOOK AWAY! LOOK AWAY! YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW! DON'T LET THE *&#@ FEMINISTS RUIN IT FOR YOU THE WAY THEY RUIN EVERYTHING!" (Please understand that I, a proud and outspoken feminist, was ready to turn on my people.) So the feminist in me should hate these books, but the woman in me is just week in the knees for them.
And then, at work a day later (of course while pondering the books), I had a flash of understanding, a moment of clarity if you will. I put 2 and 2 together with my physical responses to the books: I wasn't sleeping, I had no appetite, I daydreamed about the books, every song made me think of them, I had to force myself to be around other people...I WAS IN LOVE!!!! These books gave me the same feelings that I had falling in love AGES ago! Stephenie Meyer used some sort of Mormon voodoo and slapped me in the face with a love potion! After feeling unsettled for a moment, I realized I loved her for this, for her genius in being able to, through words, recreate one of the most lovely feelings known to humankind.
And for the record, Team Jacob, you are silly, silly, disloyal people.
Also, after reading all the books I simply couldn't stop. I immediately read through all of them again, something I haven't done since high school. Brian judged me heavily. But, he also, in one of the most unselfish and thoughtful acts I've witnessed, bought me the entire series for Christmas. And that's why he's my Edward.

A Little Knittery Update

My sister was here this weekend and we have both become huge fiber fanatics. She is probably a bigger fiber fanatic than I am. And it is oodles of fun to have somebody here who totally gets my obsession and can talk fiber lingo with me. And she brought a hysterically funny knitting book from her library, Mason Dixon Knitting (they also have a website here). I sat at my dining room table and read bits of the book that would make me giggle with joy, and then I would share the excerpt with my sister who would giggle with me...and admittedly our giggles sound creepily a lot alike. And our husbands would look at us and then at each other feeling lost, and say, "I don't get it." Which would make Lanie and I laugh even harder. The book even had a section that was written as if for the characters of The Red Tent which is one of my favorite books of all time. I could have died and gone to heaven, it was the funniest thing I have read in ages.

AND, my local yarn store was having a customer appreciation night on Friday and so my sister joined me and I bought yarn and it was delightful. So we sat together and I knit and Lanie crocheted and all was right in the Showalter house. Here are projects I completed this weekend:

I finally finished my socks! Hooray!

And here is my uneasy male model, Brian. His hat I had made him was just too small. It fit my nephew, Casey, really well. So I gave his hat away and it made Brian really sad. So I knit him up a new one and he is quite pleased...and so am I.

Lisa and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I woke up with upsetting news still running through my mind, I didn't have any creamer for my coffee and I didn't even have any milk in the house so my coffee tasted gross, the library book I'm half way through couldn't be renewed because someone had requested it, the perma-cloud had settled over Indiana, I had a dentist appointment at noon, and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

To start with, I discovered last week that my tires are bald and will need to be replaced soon, or at least before winter. Goodbye $300 dollars.

Then I discovered that I forgot to record a check (to a charity no less) into my checking account which resulted in TWO non-sufficient fund fees to the tune of $62. I'm normally really careful about these things so I'm FURIOUS at myself.

And to top it all off, I had a dentist appointment at noon. And honestly, going to the dentist is the most miserable thing I do twice a year. And it's not because of any pain that might occur there. They can pick at my teeth, polish them with gross grainy polish, and make my gums bleed all day long. Doesn't really bother me. What bothers me is the cotton-pickin' guilt trip they send me on every time I'm there!

"How much pop do you drink?"

"Do you drink coffee? Is it with sweetener? Is there sugar in your creamer or artificial sweeteners? Why don't you read the label?"

"Do you floss? How often?"

"Are you using the fluoride that we prescribed to you? Are you using it regularly?"

LEAVE ME ALONE! I come in twice a year consistently and responsibly. NO, I don't floss everyday or use your stupid prescription fluoride EVERY night before I go to bed, and I can't function without my coffee and creamer in the morning, and I have a Mt. Dew every now and again FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME? Evidently they would like me to lie a lot and make promises I do not intend to keep because that is exactly what happens every time I go to the dentist. They make me squirmy and I start sweating bullets under their intense inquisition and threats until the lies come flowing out of my mouth. These people should work in the police department coercing innocent citizens into confessing crimes they did not commit because these dental professionals are good.

I may not be the poster child for the dental care community but I'm sure I'm not the worst patient they have either. By far. I try. I really do.

So to get back at me for trying to be a good dental citizen but not measuring up to their lofty standards, they declared that I have two cavities and a tooth that will explode if it does not receive a crown. (Alright, the tooth won't explode but a piece might break off.) And I innocently ask the price of a crown at the front desk...and it is a royal price of $1,148.00. That crown better come adorned with rubies and diamonds. Do you know what kind of good could be done in this world with $1,148.00!?!?!? And that's not even covering the two stupid cavities I need to have filled.

And now Brian wants to go grocery shopping. (We haven't actually been grocery shopping in...well a long time.) So we'll get to drop an ungodly amount of money on food now. And shopping with Brian can be like shopping with a seven year old where I'll have to endure him trying to sneak peanut M&M's into the cart and listen to him whine about how he needs Pop Tarts. And I'll have to gently and constantly remind him that Her Majesty the Molar needs a crown and that the serfs will have to go without their cake for awhile.

I am so ready to move to a commune now and live off the land, toothless and happy, and free of money woes.