November 15, 2012 § Leave a Comment
When I was young my mom had a wooden bear with “Love Bears All Things” written on it. Similar to this:
It sat on her bathroom counter and any time I watched her put on makeup, I would study it like you study a map. So delicate. So smooth. So confusing.
As a kid, I did not realize that “love bears all things” referenced I Corinthians 13:7. I just assumed it meant that my mom really liked bears – which was weird since this was really the only image of a bear we had in our house.
Now that I am grown I understand that “bears” is not a noun in this case. So, yay. True love enables us to tolerate.
But also, whatever you do, love bears.
November 14, 2012 § Leave a Comment
It’s all fun and games until someone can’t think of anymore trivia. That makes no sense yet. Moving on.
My husband worked with the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival Tour this fall. On their road trips they played a game that Josh and I will probably continue to play on our road trips for years to come. This game is especially fun between two cars on walkie talkies (or phones if you’ve already joined the 21st century), but can also be played with a single car full of people. I like to call it:
20 Questions Trivia Stump (…which makes it sound like it’s got a wooden leg. Moving on.)
Team A thinks of a person for Team B to guess. Before B can ask a question about the mystery person, B must come up with a trivia question to stump A. If B can stump A with a trivia question, B gets to ask a yes-or-no question about the mystery person. For example:
Team A: I’m thinking of a person.
Team B: What was Doris Day’s first movie?
Team A: Calamity Jane.
Team B: Wrong. Romance on the High Seas. Is your person a man?
Team A: Yes.
Team B: What do James Garner, Cary Grant, and Jimmy Stewart have in common?
Team A: They were all from Arizona.
Team B: Wrong. They were all in movies with Doris Day. Is your person fictional?
Team A: No.
And so on. After 20 questions of trying to figure out the mystery person, Team B should be able to guess who the mystery person is. If not, Team A has won. Yada yada. You get the picture. Rules include:
- Mystery person must be a generally “known” person. Don’t pick your Aunt Clara Bixby whom no one else has met.
- All trivia questions must have known answers. Don’t ask, “What was the first movie that Doris Day and Rock Hudson did together?” if you don’t know what it was. (It was Pillow Talk. Please tell me you knew that. I’m sure you knew that. Moving on.)
It’s all fun and games until someone can’t think of anymore trivia. See? I knew that sentence would work somewhere in this post. I hope this made-up game entertains you – or at least inspired you to make up your own game for the road. Enjoy.
August 10, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Matchy-matchy. I’ve never been a huge fan. Coordinate? Yes. Match? Blech.
I got a duvet cover for $20 at TJ Maxx in June, and I adore it.
It didn’t come with shams, so I’m taking this opportunity to think of ways to make the bedroom seem Feng Shui without them. Here’s some inspiration:
Go ye therefore and mix your linens.
July 30, 2012 § 6 Comments
When I was in college, I really liked this boy. He was totally a BMOC (Big Man On Campus), and I knew I could make him happy for the rest of our lives. My senior year, I asked him out to a group event, and he said yes. About 20 minutes into this event, I knew I never wanted to date this kid again.
It took a lot of bravery to ask this BMOC out. I’m so glad I did.
When I was a junior in high school, they brought on French as a language option instead of Latin (cake class), Spanish (cake class), or Computers (ew). I knew this new French class would be a lot of hard work, but I desperately wanted to discover the language of my heritage. By the end of two years of French classes, I spoke fairly well and discovered that I have a knack for understanding language.
It took a lot of bravery to begin and continue French classes. I’m so glad I did.
I’ve always struggled with what I want to do with my life. I’m good at a lot of things, but there are few things that I really love doing that will bring in revenue. (Why does no one pay me for each pin I post?!) There is some memo in my subconscious that says I have to have a career. After all, I have two undergraduate degrees and lots of special skills – surely I should be the CEO of something. (Or, at least the Administrative Assistant to the CEO.) If I don’t have some sort of a career, I’m just a bump on the log of society. I am a sponge in our marriage. I’m that girl who never really amounted to anything.
I was struggling with this thought last week, and as I cried in the bathtub, Josh kissed my forehead and reminded me to just enjoy living. In trying to figure out what I’m meant to do, I forget that I need to enjoy what I’m doing right now. Comparing is such a killjoy.
I enjoy theatre. I enjoy being involved with theatre to the point of affecting the culture around me. My skill in the theatre world is acting. I’ve discovered that I enjoy it enough to put the hard work into the details. And you better believe it’s hard work. This isn’t a new idea – I knew I wanted to be an actor since before Josh and I were married. But, suddenly he is done with school and starting professional jobs, and now it’s my turn to step back from a high-paying job and hone my acting skills.
It’s a little insane to take the plunge into doing theatre for a living considering that my husband is also an actor. But, we’re young – we don’t know yet that you can’t live on under $1,000/month. And, if I don’t take this brave step, I know I will regret it. I want to be able to say
It took a lot of bravery to become an actor. I’m so glad I did.
It’s possible that I won’t want to be an actor somewhere down the line. But, this is right for me right now. There is a lot of hard work ahead of me: a lot of disappointment, rejection, and frustration. But, there is also a lot of joy ahead of me: daily creativity, a sense of community, and affecting the culture around me. It’s less of a Career choice and more of an Enjoy-Living choice. May it never be said that I was afraid to take a chance.
“Fear can be one of the most destructive emotions. It is, of course, also very important, in that fear sometimes stops you from doing stupid things. But it can also stop you from doing creative or exciting or experimental things. It can cloud your judgement of others, and lead to all kinds of evil. The control and understanding of our personal fears is one of the most important undertakings of our lives.” - Helen Mirren
May 9, 2012 § 4 Comments
In my house growing up my parents had rules regarding toys, games, etc.: play nicely, respect stuff and people, ask to use stuff (and if they say “no,” deal with it). If these rules were not followed, the item was taken away from everyone and we all had to do something else. No arguing. No complaining. It is what it is because someone ruined it with his/her selfishness.
There is a lot of hate going around right now; my Facebook newsfeed looks like a hot debate between “yay-gay-marriage” and “boo-gay-marriage.” Many things being said are ugly and disrespectful – shame on you. I say if you two can’t play nicely, I am going to take marriage away from all of you.
If I were President, the government wouldn’t care if you were married or not. Just like they don’t care if you eat sugar. While I’m in office, it won’t matter.
Civil unions can happen for two people who desire such a thing. (Yes, you have to be a certifiable human. No droids.) Civil unions for everyone! This will cost $100.00 and all this money will go to the government. If 1 million couples join in civil union each year, that means the government would get $100 million dollars each year. And I’ll lower income tax for those in a civil union. Boom. I’m a genius.
Marriage – a God-ordained union – can happen in the chapel or synagogue or park or basement or whatever. The church I go to would not marry a gay couple. That’s fine – there are a whole bunch of other ordained ministers in town who would marry them. Freedom of religion is intact. Personal morals are intact. Everyone is happy.
If I were President.
This isn’t about politics. I don’t care enough about politics/rights/whatever to argue with anyone about this. I mean – I just don’t care. I should. But I don’t. (I therefore will never run for President, so those of you who are scared by the above proposal, rest easy.)
This isn’t about changing anyone’s views on marriage. I don’t care if you love it or hate it. Persuasive speeches aren’t my thing. Disagreements can be good. It’s what makes the world interesting and what pushes us to becoming better. What if the Earl of Sandwich hadn’t argued that his food was inconvenient to eat? We wouldn’t have the sandwich – we’d probably have the Franklin. Benjamin Franklin would have totally been on that one.
Anyway, the point is: Be Respectful. Don’t be ugly. Or I’m taking away the toy and I’ll make you hold hands until you’re friends again.
Can you play nicely? Good. Carry on.
April 25, 2012 § Leave a Comment
I did something today I thought I would never do: I took our dog Harper to Doggie Day Camp.
I got a call from our landlord telling me they’re showing our apartment in 15 minutes so I had to have the dog out of there. (Yeah. Fifteen minutes is barely enough time to get home from work, much less make the house look half-way presentable.) The landlord planned to show our apartment multiple times throughout the afternoon, so I either needed to keep Harper with me at work (a discussion worthy of its own blog post) or send her to a doggie day care.
Doggie Day Care: the epitome of American overindulgence in materialism and laziness. ”I am not walking the dog in those filthy streets. I’ll get my exercise in the gym, and he can get his at day care. I don’t care what it costs.” ”My child goes to day care, so my dog should, too.” ”I love my dog, but I hate how hyper he is when I come home from work, so I’ll send him to doggie daycare so he can play and get worn out so I don’t have to deal with his hyperness.”
…or so I assumed…
With the help of our veterinarian, I quickly located a reputable Doggie Day Camp in town. When we got there, I was greeted by 4 people behind a counter. Oh, and about 20 dogs. Just hanging out. My dog doesn’t really know how to do that unless she’s tired. Ah. That must be it – these dogs have been playing for four hours, and I’m interrupting their after-lunch nap time. Cool.
Harper was super excited to be there – excited enough to poop in the lobby on their carpet. One of the employees immediately took her to the back, cleaned up the poop, and pleasantly excused her sudden bowel movement as “nerves.” Cute.
There were a lot of people working there – the [many] dogs get a lot of attention. They get to play on a doggie playground, in a doggie pool, and with doggie friends. This place might be cooler than any hangout I’ve ever been to. I was suddenly jealous of my dog’s good fortune. Clever.
When I picked Harper up at the end of the day, she was excited to see me, but it was more of a “Hey, let me show you my new digs” rather than “My friend! Take me home! Take me home!” Harper’s report card boasts that she enjoyed herself, so raise your glass to that.
Fine, then! Doggie Day Camp is cool if you find a good one. It did well for us in a pinch, and I’ll probably have to spend that $16 to send Harper back from time to time just to show her how much I love her. Darn it.