Relief.

"I loved that he cleaned up after himself before leaving an ice cream shop in Wapello, Iowa. He didn't have to. The event was over and the press had left. He is used to taking care of things himself and I think this is one of the qualities that makes Obama different from so many other political candidates I've encountered."

My new President cleans up after his tasty cone. And I think that says a lot. These incredible photos taken by Callie Shell throughout the campaign cause the goosebumps that began the moment "Barack Obama elected 44th President" appeared on my TV screen to continue, two days later, and allow me to fully realize that I am part of something so big, so exciting, and so important that I will be proud of this week for as long as I breathe.

America, welcome back!

Catching up

I do believe I missed September. The same sad post sitting at the top of the page for far too long. Let's fix that.

It's funny (or bizarre) how the universe takes so much time barely nudging you to do anything greater, become anything greater, and then SMACK out of the blue, in the least subtle way possible, it provides an obvious and clear path that moments before was completely shrouded. And my restless self jumps all over this exciting realization. Story of my life. Make a big change, adjust to said change, be comfortable and happy, become restless for next big change. Repeat as necessary.

I got a bit of my restlessness out a few weeks ago when I, along with my lovely parents, ventured to California, where I had never been before. I've got a lot of country to see in between here and there, but it was a good start to exploring this big ol' land. We went to San Francisco first.

We hiked through quiet redwoods as the morning fog lifted, saw and heard the loud sea lions at Pier 39 (the whole time I couldn't get Feist's "Sea Lion Woman" song out of my head), explored both the deep hills of the city and the calm Marin headlands, ate absolutely fantastic food, and generally enjoyed ourselves. We stayed at Old St. Mary's, California's first cathedral, where my mother's best friend is the pastor. The part of me that feels a bit bad about not attending Mass as regularly as I used to (damn Catholic guilt!) was concerned with this idea, but they have an entire hotel-like setup for guests, and were such funny, kind, witty men that I quite enjoyed it. And being so close to church bells, so close to a sacred space stirred up something that can wait until another post.

After a few days in the city, we rode to Napa to meet up with family for the wedding that occured that weekend. Wine tastings, beautiful weather, dancing, lovely new friends and spending time with family are five things very much my style. It was incredible. And very very easy to forget that a completely different, and much more responsible life awaited my return.

Traveling normally settles my restless feet for awhile, but now I find that I'm even more restless, or perhaps just ready. Ready for the next step. For so long my focus has been on the present, on being happy being exactly where I am, regardless of what will happen eventually. Now I'm beginning to feel the shift to what's coming next. No drastic moves in the immediate future, but still it seems the restlessness has settled in for good. At least until the next big change occurs.

Figures.

It figures that the one day I actually feel like going for a run is the same day we have torrential rain and a tornado warning.

I guess that's the universe's way of telling me to finally make those phone calls to faraway friends, light a candle and doze off with book in hand.

Or maybe I'll sit on my dark porch, catching glimpses of my still unfamiliar street as the lightning crackles from above.

I think this qualifies as a win-win situation.

Oh August.

"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." You've Got Mail

I will always always associate August with new beginnings. Possibly more so than springtime and definitely more than New Year's. In August I get the itch to start something new, to revamp my routines. To buy new colored pencils and take on crafty projects. To navigate the messy, picked-over aisles of folders and glue sticks in search of something new and bright to make me want to be organized and on top of everything once again.

If new trapper-keepers and locker combinations don't get your heart racing anymore, you'll be happy to know that August hosts many other worthy reasons for excitement. It happens to be Romance Awareness Month, National Picnic Month, and Admit You're Happy Month. So head outside with blanket and basket in tow. Lie in the grass and admit that you have it good. And bring along someone kind of special, you know, if you feel the urge. Annnnd...if you do all this tomorrow (August 6) go barefoot in recognition of National Wiggle Your Toes Day.

~Stephen Frykholm, Herman Miller Summer Picnic August 5, 1977~

A Good Day

I have, literally, the most amazing friends in the world. I mean, who would meet Matt Nathanson, hear him mention "making the kids", and STILL think of little ol' me?

Summer reading

Tonight I ventured to the lovely public library to:
a) return my embarrassingly overdue books
b) check out more books to maintain the overdue tradition, and
c) continue my now-annual light summer re-reading of (wait for it...) the Harry Potter series.

Did you realize I was such a nerd? Don't answer that. The truth is, I allow myself to relax and read "comfort" books during the hazy days of summer. Like comfort food, comfort books are familiar, filling, and predictable. There's no risk of the unexpected, and mental exertion is kept to a minimum. I love getting cozy with a well-worn book in the afternoon, drifting into a light doze, and awaking to pick up at the exact same sentence, no re-orientation necessary.

This doesn't mean that I completely rule out new and more literary options (my current recommendation is Jeffrey Eugenides oddly touching and often unsettling anthology, My Mistress's Sparrow is Dead.) But my main goal during the summer is to relax, devour easy pages and take things a little less seriously than I usually do.

So when I go to the library to check out the next volumes of my light reading, on a night specifically set aside for me to read/sleep at my leisure, and all the copies are checked out, I have to improvise. My first thought?..."Well, this is the perfect time for me to pick up one of the titles on my 'Books I Can't Believe I Haven't Read Yet' list." And, I happened to land in the Fal-Fea aisle, bringing me to The Sound and the Fury (quite the leap from Harry and his Hogwart's pals). I haven't battled with Faulkner since American Lit. And I'm a little nervous because last time I'm pretty sure he won...wish me luck.

Lesson of the night? Gas prices and stamps aren't the only commodities creeping up in price. The unfriendly woman at the desk wouldn't let me walk out with the book until I paid my exorbitant late fees. $11 people! And I've lived here less than a year! And to think that not too long ago, a few nickels would settle the score..

Columbia Haiku

The last steps to home:
A new place to rest my head
And old, true, close friends.




The everyday-ness of love in my life right now is a bit overwhelming, and definitely not something I've experienced in this capital city before. But as I prepare for a bit of reading this Tuesday night, I feel full. For the first time in a long time.

ps- I thought of writing an ode. But odes are lonnnng. Haikus are much better for my about-to-go-to-sleep, writing-on-a-whim style. 5-7-5 and done. Woot.