-Bill Clinton, 2004
Friday, February 29, 2008
-Bill Clinton, 2004
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
One of my favorite guilty pleasure movies is Sliding Doors, starring Gwyneth Paltrow. The premise in short: you see her life in parallel on a day when she does catch the train, and in a different universe, doesn't. Both ways she ends up with the lovely man she's supposed to be with and I revel in how her life's plan transcends petty circumstance, even if, when she does catch the train, she takes a circumvented path to get there.
Today an article in the Science section of the New York Times, about the psychology of closing doors, caught my eye. The tacky, self-help book reading side of me felt a bit giddy. It spoke to the girl who wants to take fate into her own hands, not have to trust that it'll work out as it did for Helen, Gwyneth Paltrow's character (because sadly, I am not Gwyneth Paltrow). The article suggested that even smart people resist closing doors, even after they're informed that there will be zero penalty for doing so. Something about the cognitive "slam of the door", the loss of opportunity, hurt them so much that they fight closing it, even if they're only hurting themselves.
Being a reasonably smart, ambitious twentysomething (aside from liking movies where Gwyneth has a British accent), I spend much of my time anxious that I'm not being ambitious enough (my mind promptly wonders to a thousand doors of opportunity calling, doorbells ringing...). I have to wonder: what open doors should I consider closing that have left a proverbial draft in my life? What's distracting me from getting what I really want? Anyway, this is starting to sound like a "Dear Diary" entry, so I'll end it now. Read the article, and take some time to consider what the doors that you need to close looks like - share, I'm curious.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Things to do when you have a sunny Monday off:
1. Fix up the french press and read french poetry (hmm, or maybe just In Style) in the sun.
2. Sort the piles in your apartment into smaller, more specific piles.
3. Arrange the smaller piles with a path of logic that will allude you 15 minutes later.
4. Watch an entire season of Arrested Development, and then wonder where the time went.
5. Print & fold a Que Bird: http://www.slideshare.net/alanocu/paper-bird-que-bird-ltr
6. Replant a spider baby from the spider plant, and pray that it survives your haphazard repotting.
7. Avoid leaving the house at all costs, even if it means cleaning the kitchen.
8. Pedicure, and more Arrested Development!
9. Figure out how to gussy up the five dollar cabinet you bought at the ReStore yesterday...
10. Nap on the porch-couch. It's been a busy day of nothing much.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
At 1111 Frog Hollow Road, Gomez was king. He showed up mysteriously in our yard one day when I was in sixth grade, knowing he belonged. My parents tried to give him away - twice - to neighboring farms with lots of rats, but he wasn't interested. He knew our house was it, and popped up a few hours later. For him, the next 17 years were lovely: My mom overfed him several times a day, he wracked havoc on the bird population, bullied male cats (and dogs) who crossed into our yard, roamed and befriended a few harmless female ones. For me, Gomez was always my consistent, he saw me through the ups and downs of middle and high school. He was a welcome sight when I'd come home from college on holidays, he was there demanding attention when times were tough and I couldn't imagine thinking beyond myself. He liked to be covered with newspaper. He liked to sleep in the exact middle of the bed, a 20 pound lump that expected you to get comfortable, but not if it meant he lost beauty sleep. Then last year the tumors started to show. We started to call him our Picasso cat, as one cheek jutted out, and then his spine. He lost weight. And tonight he left us. But 18 years of happiness is all you can really ask for - for him and for us.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Tonight's culinary challenge: Celeriac Cutlets (celery root, breading, lemon juice, salt & pepper). Certainly nothing in our fridge is scarier than this nobby organic celery root (at the moment). But, dear impossible-to-cut-with-my-cheap-knives vegetable, I salute you, because:
Beauty is but skin deep
Ugly lies the bone;
Beauty dies and fades away,
but ugly holds its own.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
* All "Obama" references have been updated to "Barack" as I realized after posting this piece that I had to be fair and either make Clinton and Obama each their own "man" or use both their first names. When I was referring to Clinton as Hilary, and Obama as Obama, I was really doing Hilary a disservice. Apparently, this tendency is dominating the blog-world, and the feminist analysis of why this is subtle sexism is probably foder for another boring blog. So, I apologize, Hilary Rodam Clinton!