You're Doing Everything Wrong: Furniture Shopping Edition

I'm not a big shopper. A person looking at my closet and listening to me talk about Target might think differently but I've never been big on malls and shopping. I like to think of myself as a stealth shopper - I know exactly what I want/need, go into the mall at the closest entrance, buy, and leave. I don't stop for free samples of pretzels and I rarely wander beyond a three store radius if possible. I'm the type of shopper that online shopping was designed for. I think that this stems from two reoccurring shopping experiences from my childhood: car shopping and furniture shopping.

Shopping for cars and furniture are the height of adult consumer responsibility. You do research, you test drive, you test sit, you haggle, you shop around. All of these steps are designed to make you a better informed consumer and to make sure you purchase the car/sofa/bedroom set of your dreams. And to annoy salespeople. I can only imagine the thoughts going through a car salesperson's head when someone comes in with all this "research" they did on the interwebs before buying a Kia Soul. In this situation, the research probably amounted to watching the hamster commercial and deciding you had a new desire to drive a box. To each his own.

Both car and furniture shopping are boring activities when you're a kid. The two most important aspects of car shopping for me were the quality of candy the dealership made available and the amount of real estate that would be between me and my brother in the back seat. Our two-tone blue Ford Aerostar was the best for real estate; we both had our own row. At furniture stores, it's even more mind-numbing. You're not supposed to put your feet on things or jump on the beds but there is an entire room devoted to new mattresses. It's right there! And you don't want a 10 year old to jump on them? Furniture stores always had bad candy (peppermints and butterscotch - amateurs) and it always took years for my parents to pick something and buy it. Of course, by "years" I mean an hour or two. It wasted valuable kid time.  

My dad is a car guy. He was the type (and still is to some extent) of car buyer who traded in his car regularly, waited for the latest release information from Ford (we're a Ford family), and will occasionally opine about the color options for interiors and how the body colors have been crap since 1978. He has very strong opinions on weird paint colors (please don't ever bring up orange Mustangs). In all the times I experienced car shopping with my dad, I could always tell that the salesperson enjoyed working with him. He knows his stuff and is a decent enough negotiator. When I bought my first car I felt like a feral child who had just been brought back to civilization. I'm not entirely sure I formed a coherent sentence during the entire process. I felt overwhelmed by the experience and like the Ford dealership was judging me despite the fact that they were super nice and patient with me. Apparently, I did not learn anything about car shopping from my father.

As for furniture shopping, I never really had to do any actual furniture shopping until I was in my early twenties and settling into my first apartment without roommates. Up until that I time, I was in college furniture mode which is comprised of "inheriting" furniture from older friends who graduate or from parents who decide to redecorate after their children leave home. My roommates and I were excellent at what I'll call "Wal-Mart chic" (Target didn't come to Louisiana until after I graduated around the time of my need for solo expression in decor). We could make those crappy particle board bookcases and dressers look fancy and expensive. We were theatre design majors so our entire world was thrift stores and making something out of whatever was around. Our apartment was cozy and comfortable. It resembled the nicer furniture section at a thrift store. Most importantly, it was ours. That was what was significant. We were forging identity and responsibility one coffee table at a time.

When I moved to northern Virginia in the summer of 2006, I made a decision to buy a real couch (no more futon for me) and invest in some actual furniture. I went to where every person in their early to mid-20s goes to buy furniture...Ikea. I bought a nice loveseat from the Ektorp line. Ektorp has survived several moves and was all I needed for this stage in my life. However, Ektorp and I are at a point in our relationship where I need to move on and he needs to find a new home. I often fall asleep on my couch at say 9:30 and Ektorp is no longer that comfortable.

And this brings us to why I'm doing everything wrong when it comes to furniture shopping. Like Corky in Waiting for Guffman, I have a vision when it comes to my new living room. I want classic and modern and comfortable. When I watch television, I see all these apartments of characters my age (or younger) who don't have jobs and yet have fabulously decorated apartments. That's what I want in my life. What's difficult is realizing this vision since I don't have thousands of dollars to spend on my living room. I have to work within a budget and that is cramping my vision's style. Did everyone else know how expensive coffee tables are? For real, I've only found a handful that will A. fit in my small apartment and B. don't cost $400. It's insane. Then there's the couch. You could buy a car for what some of these couches go for. It's astounding. One site, that will remain nameless, had a price meter that went from $80 to $3500. I quickly closed the window and returned to my less expensive options.

Another thing that I was troubled by was the number of sites that listed no prices at all. This made me uncomfortable on many levels. Was the price for the couch so astronomical that simply listing it would cause my eyes to burn and the Internet to explode? What I learned from the helpful salesman at Ashley Furniture was that the no price policy existed for one of two reasons (typically): 1. the item could be customized so the price might depend on fabric choice or some other option or 2. each store location is independently owned so pricing while suggested is often controlled by the franchise owner rather than the chain itself. This is actually the case with Ashley; not listing prices allowed the location to offer additional discounts and special offers. I appreciated this as I continued the search to complete my vision.

I went to several places and sat on many couches. I dragged my brother along for several of these research trips. He put up with my questions ranging from the bizarre to the practical: "Do you think Pumpkin will like it?" and "Do you think it will fit through the door?" I didn't purchase anything that first weekend. I went back home and remeasured everything (including the front door). I went back online and read reviews and looked at countless ways in which people had arranged the two finalists (pictured here). 

As much as I would have loved a couch with a chaise lounge for my living room, the reality of my apartment is that I need a normal sized couch with no wild and crazy accoutrements. I opted for bold color instead. A red couch is statement of a different kind. It'll make my mildly drab apartment more vibrant and fun. I can have fun with rearranging my photos and pictures and whatever else makes sense. I'll finally hang curtains. My apartment will become more of a home and I will fall asleep at 9:30 on my new couch like a real adult.

What I've been doing wrong when it comes to furniture shopping is neglecting to take into consideration that I do not have a set dresser and unlimited funds. You can still have a nice place to come home to without breaking the bank. I can still have a vision; I just have to have the vision that fits into my apartment.

This Is 35

When I was younger, I had a very specific image in my head of what my life would be like as an adult. I would be married, have children, be a famous costume designer, and have a dog named Albert. I wrote about this image a few years ago and my struggle to understand what it means to be an adult. When I was in my teens, I thought 25 was so old and 35 ancient. Age is pretty irrelevant; there are teenagers who are more adults than some of the people I see everyday and some "adults" that will always be 16. And that is my problem: where do I fit into this whole thing?

I hoped that when I turned 35 there would be some magical moment on my birthday where I would just get it. I would understand what I'm supposed to be doing in life and know that I am what I wanted to be when I grew up. That magical moment did not occur on my actual birthday BUT I did get to meet John Waters and learned that he had never been to an Outback Steakhouse until he started his hitchhiking book. New experiences happen at the weirdest moments. (Read his book Carsick - it's really funny.)

Flash forward to the Saturday following my birthday. I decided to have a birthday party this year since 35 is a milestone birthday (according to my mom). It was a bowling party. I love bowling. Any activity where you can combine junk food (snacks are important), beer, and special shoes is a success in my book. I was talking with one of my friends during the party about turning 35. She turned 35 in April and had a phenomenal roller skating party to celebrate. She told me that it took two months to adjust to the idea of being 35 (she was at two months) and I should report back when I came to my two month anniversary.

Well here we are. I have been 35 for two months. There's still been no magical moment of "This Is 35" but I have come to some realizations over the last two months about this whole adult thing. What better way to discuss than a list?

• One of the greatest joys in life is having cereal for dinner. Frequently. I actually have cereal for dinner more now than ever before, including college. I'm not a huge fan of cooking (although I love to bake) and cooking for one is horrible. I end up having to eat the same thing for days or I freeze the leftovers and then promptly forget about them. My co-workers like to go out to lunch so I tend to have a big lunch anyway so cereal just makes more sense. Or I'm suddenly very European.
• I excel at being a good rock and roll citizen. Old Lady Concert Rules are not just something my crankier self came up with because I hate fun and people. Peter Frampton has even entered the fray and taken drastic measures to make concerts a fun and safe space for all. If you can't respect Old Lady Concert Rules stay at home.
• I am a feminist and you can deal with it. I know that feminist is a very loaded word for a lot of people. You need to get over it. As I've explained before, I believe in feminism in the way that I believe it was intended: the equality and full humanity of all women and men. I don't hate men (I love men) and I'm not here to tell you that your traditional values are terrible. But I don't like making less money than men for doing the same job OR having people (Congress, the Supreme Court, corporations, fundamentalist religious organizations, Fox News) make decisions about my body and my rights to make choices about my body OR the belief that I am less of a woman because I don't have a husband or children to take care of. Y'all, women are more than their wombs and we need to stop defining woman and womanhood in these terms. 
• Let's all geek out together. I love that we live in a time where geekiness about anything is encouraged. The fandom sphere is vast and welcoming (except when Comic Con attendees are acting like total d-bags). Even if you haven't been reading Marvel Comics (or insert any book, tv show, or comic) since you learned to read, you can catch up and be part of the fun. Recently, I had a lengthy conversation with the intern working for my department this summer about comic books, the DC v. Marvel universe debate, the reboot of Red Sonja, and a female Thor. She and I also discussed feminism and Cat Woman. I love our intern; she gives me hope for the future. We have yet to discuss Guardians of the Galaxy but we'll get to it this week.
• It's okay to hate the gym. I hate going to the gym. I've had some very negative gym experiences in my life and I don't feel the need to continue to repeat them. That doesn't mean that I don't care about my fitness and health. I got a FitBit in February, stopped drinking soda, and am much more aware of what I eat. Gyms aren't for everyone; the key is finding what you like to do and doing it. I walked 17,333 steps in one day two weeks ago and it was an exciting accomplishment.
• Youths. I enjoy making fun of the youths as much as the next person. Guess what? They're making fun of us too. Not everyone under 30 is a terrible, self-absorbed millennial who doesn't understand the value of hard work and applying themselves. They're not all special snowflakes but neither am I so let's just work together in peace and harmony.
• I like pineapple patterned sweaters. Personal style can be a challenge. I would consider my personal style somewhere between classic and slightly punk librarian. I like really bright colors and patterned sweaters (the pineapple sweater is a recent addition) and stripes. I like wedge heels and would kill for a pair of Doc Marten Mary Janes like I had in the late 90s. (Why didn't I keep those?) I don't understand women over the age of 8 who think rompers are attractive. I have come to terms with skinny jeans (I own exactly one pair and they are purple). I finally know what works for me and I have stopped trying to be a person I'm not because of fashion. Nina Garcia will probably never love what I wear but that's totally cool. 
• Take a break and enjoy recess. No really, take a recess break. Even NPR did a story on the importance of play and having fun in adulthood. Having grown up responsibilities tends to make us all forget about having fun. Two Fridays ago, my brother and I spent the day at Kings Dominion and it was awesome. We rode all the roller coasters (some of them twice) and stopped at Sonic on the way home for slushies. It was a great day and it reminded me of the importance of taking a break. Have fun. Be a silly. Life's too short to be serious all the time.
• Always take the bonus cupcake. I shouldn't have to explain this but I will anyway. When I bought a dozen cupcakes for my birthday party, the woman at the bakery gave me a bonus cupcake for my purchase. Of course I ate it and then ate another one at my party. We shouldn't deny ourselves the simple, good things in life. Sometimes you need a bonus cupcake and sometimes you need a new purse. Just follow Donna and Tom's advice and "treat yourself".

Two months in to being 35 and that's what I have figured out so far. Reality is way more fun than what I imagined as a youth. Let's do this, second half of my thirties!

Photos by me

You're doing everything wrong

I'm going to confess something - I don't use Pinterest. I know you're shocked and possibly even disappointed. I signed up for account ages ago but can't recall the password and don't know the last time I logged in. Pinterest allows you to "re-pin" images and you can create boards for themes, events, and whatever you want to save. I suppose it's meant to help foster creativity and give people ideas for how to do cool DIY projects. This blog has even been pinned on the site by someone who liked the pictures I took of houses in Alameda. Maybe she's restoring a Victorian home?

But I've never gotten into pinning. From my limited time on the site I realized I didn't fall into the following categories:

• I'm not planning a wedding so I have no use for mason jar art/lighting ideas and have no plans to ever get married in a barn (and neither do you so stop it)
• I'm not having a baby nor do I have children so no need for cute knitting projects or homemade baby food or rainy day craft ideas
• Pumpkin doesn't wear clothes and I'm not going to make her (although she would be cute as a ladybug but then she would kill me in my sleep)
• I'm not renovating a house so no need for weird DIY bookcase projects that involve upcycled wood (which I'm in support of) and some plant based resin I have to make in my kitchen (which probably smells like garbage rotting because that's always what happens with these things)
• I'm not into pickling produce, making my own beer or other alcohol, or curing meat

I even tried to get into the baking boards of Pinterest because I love to bake and I love to find challenging things to bake. I found some cool stuff but to be honest, I knew I would never make any of it so I stopped. It would be fun to try but ultimately I'd rather be on PinterestFail than on the real site.

I don't think my dislike of Pinterest has anything to do with the site itself or why people use the site or enjoy making boards and re-pinning things. Pinterest, like most forms of social media, is designed to make us all feel bad. Think about your Facebook newsfeed for a moment (if you're on FB). Aren't there days when everyone seems to be having a baby, getting married, adopting a puppy, getting a promotion, and going on an exciting vacation? On those days don't you feel like telling everyone to shut the eff up even though you're super excited for all of them (in all sincerity)? Pinterest insecurity is apparently a thing now and we're all feeling it in some way. Social media has the ability to make us all feel like lonely, uncreative, narcissistic, boring people.

Of course that's not true. I mean, it might be true for some people but overall, most of us are not uncreative or boring. Sir Ken Robinson talks about this all the time. We're all creative in different ways and we have to focus on how to best express that creativity. For some people, it's pickling homegrown vegetables and using beet ink to label your mason jars for storage. For others, it's using post-it notes to decorate an office mate's cube for their birthday. Creativity can be taught and we all have the capacity to be creative. It's just different for each one of us.

I would love to say that I feel most creative in my job since then I would be the adult person that I dream of being. But I don't feel most creative at work although I try to be as creative as possible and sometimes I achieve great things or at least things that don't make my colleagues want to gouge their eyes out to end the pain of the meeting or training I'm conducting.

I guess I would say that I feel most creative when writing and baking (but not at the same time - that could be dangerous). I love writing this blog because it gives me an outlet to share ideas and photos and tell stories (which I love to do). I started the blog because I felt disconnected from things when I moved to Alameda. It was hard to adjust and it was a way to connect outside my apartment. While others enjoy the blog, it's mostly for me. That's not to say that I'm not glad people enjoy the Island and find me amusing; I am and I appreciate that people take the time to read it. I imagine this is what therapy is like.

Baking is also very therapeutic for me. It's a lot of work whether you're making something from a mix or from scratch. Don't ever let anyone tell you that making something from a mix isn't baking - it is. I prefer from scratch in terms of process but sometimes I need to get something done quickly and a brownie mix works just fine. I like the order of baking and the process. That's why I prefer baking to cooking - I'm not as good at throwing ingredients together and having something awesome happen. I'd rather spend two days making an Italian Orange cake - that's more my style. I made this cake 5 years ago (ish) for Christmas and my family still talks about it. It was that good and is probably my favorite cake. With baking, not only am I satisfying my need for process (the type A part of my personality), I'm also making others happy (the Erin Counselor part of my personality).

So my new goal is just do those things that make me feel creative and happy and leave the rest behind. I'm trying hard not to compare myself to everyone else. It's not healthy or fun. This is all part of the process of being the leading lady of my own life.

By the way, my next baking project actually came from Buzzfeed (providing all the cat photos and 90s nostalgia you'll ever need). Bourbon marshmallows s'mores are happening sooner than you think. The bacon is optional.

I'm not like a real mom, I'm a pet mom

Mother's Day is fast approaching. I still haven't figured out what to get my mom but I'm sure I'll think of something before next weekend (helpful reminder for those of you who forgot). Buzzfeed has not helped at all.

There's a lesser recognized group of moms in the world that I think we should discuss - pet moms. Yes, pet moms. I want to be clear: I am not equating your child to my pet (especially if you have a child with actual medical needs). What you do is different from what I do and I understand that. I think moms are awesome so I am in no way trying to diminish motherhood and all its challenges and rewards.

Moving on.

As a pet mom, I have a responsibility for a living being. I take that responsibility very seriously. I have to make sure on a daily basis that she's fed, has water, litter box access, and most importantly, places to nap. In return, I get to have a tiny cat in my apartment who occasionally sits on my lap, allows me to pet her, and does incredibly entertaining things. Additionally, I get head-butted at 4 am when she would like to be fed and receive looks that may imply that she intends to kill me in my sleep. Having a cat can be an intense experience but Pumpkin is super cute and awesome so it's worth it. My favorite thing about Pumpkin: when she plays with her toys because no one is paying attention to her. It's like having a one performer circus in my living room.

Like an actual mom, I worry that I'm raising her right and making good choices when it comes to her well being. When I moved back to Virginia last summer I brought Pumpkin to my parents' house for the 2 months before my move. I was concerned she wouldn't do well on another cross-country drive. It was really hard to make the decision. Was I being a bad pet mom for leaving her for 2 months with "strangers" (they're not strangers but you know what I mean) and the dog? Was she going to remember me? Would she exact some kind of bizarre cat revenge for leaving her?

She was fine and I'm not a bad pet mom. However, she did pick up some bad habits while staying with her "grandparents." My mom took to feeding Pumpkin treats from her hand on a daily basis. I have no patience for this but I think Pumpkin returned home with some sort of daily treat expectation that I have slowly broken down. Pumpkin also seemed to think being on top of the fridge or cabinets was more acceptable presumably since she had been staying in a house with a dog and needed the advantage of height. I've been less inclined to care about this one since she seems to be able to get down on her own (which wasn't always the case).

I think I was most concerned about something happening to her and my not being there to take care of her (not that my parents wouldn't have done an excellent job). Pumpkin has had three major medical issues since I adopted her - an abscess on the left side of her face, major dental work (related to the abscess which required me to give her kitty morphine), and that time she swallowed a needle and thread. Each one was awful and made me feel like I was the worst pet mom ever. I could have prevented the last one but only if I had realized that she grabbed the thread when I had my sewing box out. I only realized it when I saw it hanging out of her mouth.


My friend, Amy, had a similar experience this week with her dog. Amy has visited the Island before and is a good sport when it comes to me randomly talking about her in blog form. Amy has two lovely pups, Dixie and Muddi. I met them on my move back to Virginia last summer. They are super friendly and Amy is a great pet mom. Earlier this week Dixie ate some socks (since that's what dogs do) and one got caught in her stomach. She was in the hospital most of the week and had to have surgery to remove the sock. Poor Dixie and poor Amy. I know Amy was anxious about Dixie and it's hard to focus when something like this happens. There's not much you can do but wait. And of course, there are always people who won't get it or think "it's just a dog or a cat." I can't be friends with those people. Thankfully, Dixie is recovering and got to come home last night - just look at that happy face!

Here are some things you can do to celebrate the pet moms in your life:

• At the dog park, compliment how well her dog(s) plays and socializes with other dogs. This is especially important if the dog shared its toy.
• Compliment the awesome way in which her cat can squeeze itself into the tiniest box or surprise you with being in that shopping bag you left on the floor. That takes skill. Cats are ninjas.
• When shown a picture of the pet, you can honestly say, "Oh he's so cute and hamsterish" because the pet is, in fact, a hamster.
• Send your pet mom friend a card from her pet. She'll appreciate it even more if you draw a paw print on the card like a signature.
• Don't ask her when she's going to have actual children. You're not helping.

Here's the best thing about having a pet: it doesn't matter if you're gone for two minutes or two months, your pet will always be happy to see you because they love you unconditionally and like you at the same time.

Or it's the cat treats in my hand.

Dixie's photo by Amy - thanks for being part of today's post!

I'm terrible at being an adult...

I've had one of those weeks where I just felt off. Everywhere I look it's people having babies and getting married and buying houses and inventing something awesome and going on a road trip to figure out their lives. Friends who are dong all these thing: I love you and am happy for you - please don't be offended. Sometimes, it's just a bit much. And the time changed too - why do we even still do this?

To top it all off, I had a realization: I suck at being an adult. Now mind you, I'm super responsible, highly organized, try to make smart life choices, and am a good citizen but there are certain things that I'm terrible at and don't ever believe that this will change. I had this realization while sitting in a health care benefits session at work. It had absolutely nothing to do with the presentation itself or our benefits (which are awesome). I had this moment where I just didn't care so I started making a list of the reasons I suck at being an adult. Because that seemed like the right thing do to.

So here are reasons I suck at being an adult:

• I can't do my own taxes. Math is not my thing and taxes are like math on amphetamines so I get nervous.
• I don't really understand health insurance. I mean, I get why one needs it. I understand what a deductible is but I really don't get it. There were people in this meeting that got it and they asked these complicated questions. My only thought was if I get scurvy, it'll be okay.
• I haven't been saving for retirement as well as I should be. Again, I have a retirement fund and I make contributions but I don't actively engage with it. I know, I'm terrible.
• I don't take vitamins. Not even in gummy form. 
• I'm terrible at scheduling "wellness" doctor's appointments. I have an aversion to doctors and dentists (although I did go to the dentist this year and have a follow up appointment on April 2).
• I loathe the gym. This is not so much me sucking at being an adult as me hating the gym on general principle. Like most people (don't act like you like it because you don't).
•  When people use phrases like "action item", "bandwidth", "pain point", and "white space" I don't just want to punch them, I want to give them the appropriate punk rock beat down that they deserve.
• Car maintenance makes my head hurt. Sorry Dad.
• My lip gloss collection consists primarily of Lip Smackers. My favorites are Dr. Pepper, Vanilla, and Strawberry. Because I'm 10. Did you know they have Girl Scout cookie flavored ones?
• I swear like a sailor - not the captain of the ship but a sailor. 
• I don't own a vacuum. I'm borrowing one from my parents (yes, they have two because they're adults).
• I don't floss.
• I don't own property. Yes, I "own" my car but making car payments isn't really ownership.
• I'd rather watch reruns of Jem and the Holograms than the news. Last year when a counselor called me a "gem" during a training, I wanted to respond that I am truly, truly outrageous.
• I probably overuse the words "awesome" and "whatever". 
• I haven't balanced my checkbook in years.
• I wear socks with owls, hedgehogs, and foxes unironically.
• Occasionally I like to have what I call "eat like an 8 year old" day(s). The menu includes Kraft mac and cheese, applesauce, Cap N Crunch, Goldfish crackers, chicken and stars soup, and strawberry pop tarts - not all at one time but usually within the same day. There's comfort in eating like an 8 year old.

When I got home from work the movie Overboard was on. I happened to turn it on exactly when Goldie Hawn says to Kurt Russell: "I want you to take up some of your grown-up responsibility." His response is something about earning money. I have grown-up responsibility but that doesn't make me the best adult. As I've said before, I know there's not one thing that makes a person an adult. (And PS - I lied in this previous post. See if you can find the lie.) Some people would say it's age or experience. Others might say that it has to do with feeling grounded in your career or life. I currently feel none of these things. I still haven't figured out being an adult or a grown-up. I guess I have to decide if I care anymore.

I think I'll blame it all on the time change. 

Cause you're wonderful

I love this particular scene in Almost Famous. I don't know if this was a thing people did when Tommy came out (since I wasn't alive) or maybe Anita was only able to communicate with music because that's how teenagers are. Either way, there's value to what she said and wrote to William and to the music she left behind. The power of great album or a great song can be such that you do, in fact, see your future. I think you can tell a lot about a person when you know what music they love and hate. Music is a little window into someone's soul. This is why I've never understood it when someone tells me they don't like music. It feels like they're missing an entire part of their being. I would be lost without the music I love.

In a recent post, I described introducing a person to a band you like as being sacred - Anita believes this too. She and I would definitely be music friends if she was real. She wants William to be moved by what he hears and have it become an essential part of his life and future and being (like some people feel about religion). I want the same thing when I share music with someone. I make a lot of mixes for people and I'm always anxious about the process, even a little shy when I think about sharing music with a person. Will they get it like I did? Will they love it? Will they think I'm insane? Will they toss the mix aside and never listen to it but then pretend they did so they don't hurt my feelings? Spreading the musical gospel is a stressful but important part of life.

Everyone has a cool aunt - the one you can talk to about anything and you want to be like when you grow up. My cool aunt is my Aunt Pat. Aunt Pat introduced me to David Bowie (and other very important to me music) when I was younger. She never said to me, "You should listen to this" but it was on all the time and she talked about him with reverence. I knew what we were listening to was important. Of course this meant that I was going to listen to Bowie. Eventually. It's not like I was 6 years old and knew all the words to "Space Oddity" or "Suffragette City" (although I'd really like that 6 year old version of me).

As with most things in my life, I had to find Bowie on my own terms. I had to work my way through boy bands before I could truly appreciate the awesome that is David Bowie. Once I moved past the boy band stage in my musical journey, I settled on glam rock, 70s punk, and morose British bands as my essentials. Bowie became the centerpiece of my musical world. I could recite lyrics and knew all the characters he played. I was mostly into his albums from the 70s; most of the stuff from the 80s just didn't do it for me although I really do like "Modern Love" and "Cat People (Putting Out Fire)". Around the same time, I got into reading about the Pop art movement and Warhol and The Velvet Underground and, of course, became obsessed with Lou Reed. And then there was Iggy Pop and MC5 and Patti Smith and Richard Hell and Television and Blondie. Basically, everything awesome happened before I was born. I've come to terms with this (I think).

Bowie is an icon and has an incredibly cult-like following. His albums were (are) innovative and creative and definitely not your normal rock and roll. He's very good at reinvention in his music. (How many personas did he have? How much eye makeup did he wear? Have you heard the Berlin albums?) His onstage personas were outlandish and unique - everything a teenage rock fan wants to be. He wasn't afraid to be weird or different (at least on stage - read Marc Spitz's biography Bowie for more on the actual person not the persona). That was as true in the 90s (when I started really listening) as it was in the 70s. It's probably why I liked Bowie so much as a teenager. I felt like an outsider (because all teenagers feel that way) and he made it okay to be one. I remember the first time I really listened to the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and songs like "Space Oddity" and "Life on Mars?" and "Heroes" from other albums. I was a girl with mousy hair. I felt alone sometimes. I thought no one got me and I leaned back on my radio. I wanted to kiss as though nothing could fall in the shadow of the Berlin Wall. And then David Bowie told me that "you're not alone" (actually he shouted it at me) and that we're all wonderful. All you had to do was listen.

His first studio album in ten years comes out this week. The Next Day is amazing. He recorded the album in secret and used the occasion of his 66th birthday to announce its existence to the world. Outstanding. I listened to it for free on iTunes last weekend and am counting down the days until I can buy it and listen to it over and over again. There are songs that I think I will come to love as much as the classics. Rob Sheffield's Rolling Stone review is pretty spot on - my favorite line (about the song "The Stars (Are Out Tonight)") "It's like Bowie decided to fuse "Heroes" and "Space Oddity" into the same song, a feat he's never attempted before. Holy shit, David Bowie." I couldn't agree more.

And also there is this post about the album artwork. This, my dear friends, is why I still buy CDs and actual albums. Yes, iTunes is more convenient but liner notes and album art are extraordinarily interesting artistic statements. Reading the liner notes is part of the fun of buying new music. I have to listen to The Next Day at least four more times before I'll have any real opinions but my first listen made me happy. I felt a lot like when I first really "discovered" Bowie in my teens - I'm just older and you know, wiser. Just like David Bowie.

Please play this song at my funeral - not because it's sad but because it's comforting.

Videos from youtube.com
The Kitten Covers - David Meowie cover (this site is amazing)
Other photo by me

When you grow up your heart dies

"Jules, y'know, honey... this isn't real. You know what it is? It's St. Elmo's Fire. Electric flashes of light that appear in dark skies out of nowhere. Sailors would guide entire journeys by it, but the joke was on them... there was no fire. There wasn't even a St. Elmo. They made it up. They made it up because they thought they needed it to keep them going when times got tough, just like you're making up all of this. We're all going through this. It's our time at the edge"

 -Billy (Rob Lowe), St. Elmo's Fire

A couple of months ago, my friend Allison and I attempted to attend a movie night at Nationals Park. The event was promoted by Groupon (which is how Allison found out about it) and we were super stoked to go hang out with other 80s movie fans on a brisk evening and watch St. Elmo's Fire. At a baseball stadium. I had planned to do a Lazy Movie Weekend post about the experience too. It was going to be epic.

But that did not happen. When Allison and I arrived at Nationals Park, the lights were completely off and no one was there. There was no sign of the 80s cover band that was supposed to be playing or the cast look alikes. She and I were it. The one Nationals employee we found had no idea what we were talking about. Four other people would eventually wander over too, unaware of any cancellation. No one at Groupon responded to the email, the tweet or, the Facebook post went sent. Groupon punked us and it was disappointing. And so we got back on the Metro and went back to Clarendon and had dinner. We did see someone almost get arrested so we considered the evening a success.

The next day, Allison and I both got a response from Groupon. The event had been canceled but somehow Allison (who made the reservation) wasn't on the list for notification. They refunded the ticket price and gave Allison credit for future purchases so that worked out.

So, I didn't get to watch the movie after all. And it either hasn't been on tv at all or I come in the middle of the movie which isn't fun. So this isn't a Lazy Movie Weekend post (although I am going to to tell you some great things about this movie). Every year, usually around this time, I find myself suffering from what I can only categorize as ennui. Or a psychological zombie apocalypse. And for some reason, I associate this movie with this feeling. I believe I've finally figured out why.

St. Elmo's Fire is a later addition to the Brat Pack movie world. It's not a John Hughes movie and does not feature Molly Ringwald (Ally Sheedy sort of takes her place in this one). The movie takes place in DC (which is weird because it's not about politics at all and I think only movies about politics should take place here). It focuses on a group of 20 somethings just out of college who are trying to make their way in life. They're moving into their first jobs out of college, trying to figure out their love lives, and generally doing the stupid things that people in the 80s did all the time (at least in movies). Like wear layers of clothes with shoulder pads. Or date Judd Nelson.

There are some things that I absolutely love about this movie:

• Ally Sheedy's character Leslie is who I imagine Claire (from The Breakfast Club) would have become if she was a real person. 
• There's a scene in which Ally (Leslie) and Judd (Alec) have an argument over who gets to keep which records when they break up (sorry for the spoiler). This scene is my favorite because I could envision myself having a similar debate with a boyfriend but I also realize that this scene would probably not exist in a film if it was made today. Because only old people (like me) actually buy albums or CDs anymore. What do people divide up when they break up now?
• This quote by Kevin (Andrew McCarthy's morose character): "I enjoy being afraid of Russia. It's a harmless fear, but it makes America feel better, Russia gets an inflated sense of national worth from our paranoia. How's that?" This is why Red Dawn (and now it's remake) even exist.
• That I learned to be wary of certain types of gifts from boyfriends. Judd Nelson is to blame for this. If you've seen this movie you know what I'm talking about.
• If the club scene in Xanadu was what I envisioned adult night life was like, this movie is how I envisioned being 20ish and on my own would be like. Looking back on this now makes me laugh and feel sort of foolish.
• The end of the movie where they're all standing outside the bar looking in at the new versions of themselves and decide not to go in. Instead, they talk about getting together some other time. Probably for brunch. Because that's what grown-ups do - they go to brunch.

However my absolute favorite thing about this movie is this: Almost all of the characters are the person (or some variation of the person) that Ally Sheedy's character in The Breakfast Club described when she said "When you grow up your heart dies." Whether it's Alec who gives up his ideals to the almighty dollar or cheats on his girlfriend for no apparent reason except that he can or Kevin who should be writing but he's too wrapped up in his obsession with Leslie so he settles for writing obituaries and complaining about everything or Jules living what can only be described as a very 1980s lifestyle, they all represent what happens when you just don't believe in anything anymore. And I think that's what Allison (from The Breakfast Club) was really talking about: when you grow up you have to be so concerned with things like money and status and following some sort of preset path that you forget who you are and what you really believe in or are passionate about.

Wendy and Billy are really the only two that I don't think fall into this camp. I don't really care for Billy but he does get the hell out of dodge to follow his dreams so at least he does something. Wendy could take money from her wealthy family, marry the man that her father wants her to marry (who is terribly boring) and have an easy life. But she doesn't. She has her job (social worker), she lives away from her family, and her heart belongs to Billy (even though this is a horrible idea - remember this is 1980s Rob Lowe so he's basically playing himself in the movie). Wendy is the heart of this movie. She keeps the group together. She doesn't want their hearts to die.

And this is why I equate my ennui with this movie. I think about "When you grow up your heart dies" all the time. I never want to come to a point in my life where I'm not passionate about what I'm doing or the life I'm living. There's something about this time of the year that brings this into focus. Is it the end of the rush and excitement of the holidays? The realization that it's only going to get colder between now and March? That Congress comes back into session? I just don't know. I don't want my heart to die. I don't want to be friends with people who have let their hearts die or if I am, I want to be their Wendy and help them figure it out.

After all, I am Erin Counselor and that's a very Erin Counselor thing to do.

Never a party girl

I would like a nice, powerful, mind-altering substance. Preferably one that will make my unborn children grow gills. 

Mary (Parker Posey), Party Girl

He-he-hello!

The movie Party Girl was one of my favorite movies when I was in high school. At that time, my goals in life included living in New York, being a struggling theater artist, and generally being awesome. I wanted to be like Mary in this movie (minus the drugs since I don't do drugs). I envied her shoes, ability to wear tights and not look like she was trying to hard, and the fact that she felt no shame in "closet shopping" at a party ("Hello Chanel"). Also, she ends up wanting to be a librarian. Perfect.

Everyone loves a party girl. I thought that this particular type of personality would make my life better and you know, funner. Everyone wants to be funner. But being a party girl is hard. You have to go out all the time, be "on" all the time, have a high tolerance for nonsense and shenanigans, and drink excessive amounts of alcohol. No shame might also be a good trait.

You know what else party girls have to do? Dress like party girls. I don't and never have had the wardrobe. Like Cher in Clueless, I'd rather veg out in comfy clothes because party clothes are way too binding. And the shoes! As much as I love my heels, I don't know how anyone can wear them all the time. How is it possible that any woman makes it through the night without hobbling foot pain or having someone carry her (which I did witness when I got back to Clarendon and was walking to my car)?

Towards the beginning of the evening...

I am not a party girl. I am the most the most responsible person in the room. And when you're the most responsible person in the room, people get a little surprised in those instances when you do go out and enjoy yourself. It's like when you were a kid and you saw your teacher at the grocery or the mall; it was odd and surreal. You couldn't believe they were a real person and did real person things. Well, the same thing is true with the responsible people - when you stay out late and bar hop or whatever it is that you're going to do, people are amazed.

I've spent the past two Fridays out with friends from work. Some of the group were part of my ill-fated trivia team. My team captain skills have left something to be desired and trivia has fallen by the wayside (sorry friends). Anyway, I guess I normally only hang out with the majority of these friends in the structured confines of the after work happy hour. We work in Clarendon so you can literally throw a rock outside our office building and hit a passable/enjoyable happy hour location. Normally, our evenings end early (it is a school night usually) and no one leaves Virginia until they're ready to go home (for those who live in Maryland and DC).

Required stop at a CVS to act silly

But Fridays tend to be a different story especially when it's the last two Fridays before holiday break. Why wouldn't you go out until 2 am? Or move the celebration from Clarendon to DC? What time does the last Metro run back to Virginia? In my quest to be more of a party girl, I can't say no to any of these ideas. Yes, I want to go into DC for one more round even though it's already 11 pm. Sure, let's walk even further away from the Metro for more fun. And a much better jukebox - why didn't we just start here in the first place?

Inevitably at some point in the evening my responsible self kicks in. I decline another drink, switch to water, and start to plot exit strategies. I check my Metro app to see when the next train is and start herding people towards it. The mother hen in me takes over and I start taking care of people. Erin Counselor (what some of my friends call me) comes out and I have to start making sure we're all making smart life choices. Because that's what Erin Counselor does - she makes sure that people make smart life choices.

And this is why I will never be a real deal party girl. I have come to terms with this and I guess I've accepted it. I'd rather sit in a dive bar and listen to good music all night, joking and talking with my friends than to wear heels and an inappropriately short (for the weather and for life) skirt and have to be on the whole time. The world is made up of all types of people. The Erin Counselors and the party girls coexist to keep the natural social order in place.

Video from youtube.com

Old lady concert rules

As I've gotten older I've noticed that I complain about a lot of things I never cared about or complained about before. I haven't decided if it's because I'm settling into the behavior pattern of the old lady that I will become one day or if people are just more annoying now then when I was younger. It's also possible that I have less patience now than I did before but I find that hard to believe given what I do for a living. Maybe it's just that I save my patience and allowances for nonsense for my clients and co-workers rather than strangers.

My old lady behavior is at its worst at concerts. I wasn't always an old lady concertgoer. When I went to my first concerts (New Kids On The Block, Def Leppard, Huey Lewis & the News), I was so wrapped up in the coolness of finally going to a show that I couldn't care less what people around me did or didn't do. It was all about the music and being impossibly grown-up.

I've been to a lot of shows over the years in every type of venue and all sorts of bands and musicians. I've been to Jazz Fest more times than I can count and I went to the first Lilith Fair (1997). I also went to one of the first concerts at what was then Nissan Pavilion (R.E.M., 1995). I even flew to Detroit to see The Stooges reunite for The Weirdness tour in 2007. I'm still sad about the whole "don't play anything from Raw Power rule" that was in place but at least I got to see Ron Asheton play before he died.

My top six concerts of all time are:

1. Patti Smith and Her Band, Ram's Head Live (12.01.12)
2. Pixies, DAR Constitution Hall (12.01.09)
3. The Decemberists and the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Merriweather Post Pavilion (07.14.07)
4. Tina Turner, New Orleans Arena (10.25.00)
5. Tori Amos, DAR Constitution Hall (04.26.96)
6. Run DMC, Palm Court at Loyola University New Orleans (10.24.99) - Loup Garou y'all (old school style)

The Patti Smith show on Saturday was amazing. I've never really understood why people follow charismatic leaders and do really stupid things because of said leader but after this show, I totally get it. If Patti Smith ruled the world it would be a better place and I would do whatever she said to do. She's empowered and hilarious and dances like no one's watching and sings the saddest songs with the same spirit as rock anthems. When she sang "Because the Night" I could feel the longing for Fred "Sonic" Smith, her late husband and a founding member of MC5. She dedicated it to him and her reworking of the song was about him (Springsteen originally recorded it but wasn't pleased with the song; Patti took it back and made it a classic rock love song). It was one of the more moving concert moments I've ever experienced. Did I also mention that Lenny Kaye played some songs from The Nuggets and it was badass?

While I was enjoying the awesomeness of Patti, I also had my old lady concert moments. What's interesting about a show like this one is that you're going to have a huge range of ages in the audience. Lots of old punks and rock guys who saw Patti in New York in the 70s, college kids (so many college kids), people my age, and everything in between. A lot of shows at Ram's Head are 21 and up but I'm not sure that this one was. I got there early (as is my habit for most everything) so I had a pretty good spot on the floor (Ram's Head is standing room either in the pit/floor area or upstairs). I never go upstairs. In the space of the 2 hour set (thank you whatever spiritual force was at work for no opening act), there were a whole lot of my old lady concert rules broken. So let's discuss the rules.

1. When you go to a standing room only show and you get there late DO NOT push your way to front. Your friends are not up there waiting for you (we know you're lying) and the rest of us got here early to get our spots. Suffer in the back where you belong (and I don't care how short you are).
2. Don't wear the shirt of the band you're going to see. Don't be that guy (or girl).
3. No backpacks in the pit. When you start dancing (and you know you're going to start dancing girl who cut to the front), your backpack will hit everyone around you. And impede our dancing/headbanging/etc. You deserve the elbows that you get.
4. When you buy a ticket to a seated concert, stay in your seat. I didn't pay the large sum of money I paid for my seat to look at your back for 2 hours. Unless everyone is standing, sit the eff down.
5. I get it - I was born in 1979 and missed all the great shows in the history of great shows. I will never get to say "Remember when Patti sang "Because the Night" for the first time at CBGB's?" or "Did you see that show where the Ramone (insert whichever one) fell off the stage?" You are Captain Cool and I bow to your coolness. However, if we're at the same Patti Smith show and you're going on and on and on about how much better she was two days ago when you saw her in New York or wherever, I reserve the right to tell you to shut up. No one cares because we're trying to enjoy our own Patti Smith experience. 
6. Variation on the rule above: If you want to discuss how you used to go see the band before they were famous and now they're "sellouts" because they booked the Verizon Center or wherever, please be quiet. You bought a ticket to this show and being successful doesn't equal selling out.
7. Strike the word "merch" from your vocabulary. Do you work in the music industry? Are you in a band? Do you want to sound insufferable all the time?
8. If you're going to drink at the show:
1. Don't dance like you're an extra in a movie about Woodstock. You're not in a field and there are other people around you.
2. Apologize if you spill your drink on someone.
3. Don't drive. Have a DD, take a cab or public transportation, stay somewhere nearby. 
4. If you are with this drunk fool, take responsibility for them and don't laugh like it's the funniest thing ever. Also, if your friend is about to get into a fight or hitting on someone who is not interested, get them out of there. For real.
9. Don't yell "Freebird." It's not funny, the band doesn't appreciate it, and chances are the vast majority of the audience doesn't get the reference anyway (depending on the show).
10. Tailgating should be reserved for sporting events (see #8 as well).
11. Cell phones are not the same thing as lighters. 
12. Don't carry on loud conversations during quiet songs (lady on the 2nd floor at Ram's Head, I'm talking to you). If The Velvet Underground's Live at Max's Kansas City teaches us anything, it's that no one cares if you want to go to the movies later or how awful so and so is. Even if you are Jim Carroll. 

I know, I'm turning into such a grumpy old lady. I don't even know what's wrong with me. With the exception of numbers 4, 6, 9, and 10 all of these rules were violated at the show on Saturday. I know the world does not exist solely for me. People can do what they want and live the lives they're going to live but I think we'd all enjoy concerts much more if we all followed the rules. I just want everyone to be a good rock and roll citizen. Is that too much to ask?

I'll leave you with this (I get a little teary):

I'm just behind and to the left of the older gentleman with the ponytail and the green jacket but out of the frame.

Video from youtube.com
Photos by me

Shaken not stirred

If I accomplish nothing else with today's post, at least this theme song will be in your head. I recommend that you play it while driving on any mundane errand. It's fine if you drive a Ford Fiesta, playing this song while driving will immediately make you feel cooler and awesomer.

It's difficult not to love James Bond (37 Bond girls can't be wrong). He's debonair, he's sophisticated, he's witty, he's handsome, he looks good in very tiny shorts, and he always saves the day. It doesn't matter who the villain is or how many henchmen or henchwomen he has thrown at him, James Bond always comes out on top (and you can take that phrase any way you want - it is James Bond after all.)

We're celebrating 50 years of Bond this year. Twenty-three films later (and lots of spoofs and a firm place in pop culture), we're still watching the British spy and hanging on his every move. I've seen all 23 movies, many multiple times. My dad is a huge Bond fan and we occasionally watch the movies on holidays since nothing says holiday quite like James Bond. (Example for Thanksgiving: I am thankful for Daniel Craig being shirtless much of the time in all three of his Bond movies.)

Ian Fleming created the character of James Bond in 1952 with the publication of his first spy novel, Casino Royale. Bond, also known as 007, is a member of MI6 (British Intelligence Service) and would continue as a character in over 16 novels and many short stories. The Bond books are among some of the most famous in the world. The Ian Fleming Publications site is wonderful if you want to learn more about the novels and Ian Fleming's other work. I also like that there is a "conspiracy theory" about James Bond. Makes sense if you think about it.

Anyway, I remember seeing Sean Connery in Dr. No for the first time. Connery was the original Bond and Dr. No was the first Bond film. What doesn't he do right in this movie (or any of his other Bond films)? He's charming, flirty, funny, tough, and drinks the perfect martini. Sean Connery will always be my favorite Bond (he's my dad's favorite too). Five other actors have played 007: Roger Moore, George Lazenby, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan, and the current Bond, Daniel Craig. If I had to rank the Bonds this would be my order:

1. Sean Connery
2. Daniel Craig
3. Pierce Brosnan
4. Roger Moore
5. George Lazenby
6. Timothy Dalton

Yes, George Lazenby is before Timothy Dalton. Lazenby was only in one Bond film, On Her Majesty's Secret Service (and it was only because Sean Connery was holding out for more money which is why George only lasted one film). I would rather watch that movie everyday of my life than either of the Timothy Dalton films. Something about Dalton annoys me to death so I can't take him seriously as Bond (although I think he's hilarious in Hot Fuzz). Anyway, I think Daniel Craig is truly the best Bond since Sean Connery and the newest film, Skyfall, is the best of his Bond films to date. I saw it last weekend and it was amazing. Action packed, impressive scenery, and modern. Bond has finally stepped into the 21st century.

So what is it about James Bond that makes us keep going back for more? Is it just that an attractive actor is cast in the role and there are Bond girls and car chases and buildings blow up? I don't really think so. Bond movies appeal to a specific fantasy world that none of us live in. How many of you spend your day participating in espionage, driving fancy cars, and wearing clothes that fit you perfectly? And saying pithy things? I'm going to guess none of you. M (the magnificent Judi Dench in the current films) has a great monologue towards the end of Skyfall about working in the shadows and how most of us don't want to know about the shadows. I agree with her totally but I also think that's why we like these movies so much. For a few hours, we get to live in the shadows.

Interestingly, Skyfall humanizes James Bond in a way that isn't often seen in any of the other movies. He's tired and starting to look old, continually referred to as a relic (which is a theme in the Bond movies since the Brosnan days). It's also a lot closer to the Bond in the novels than the Bond of many of the movies. One review I read compared Bond to Lester Burnham from American Beauty (Sam Mendes directed both films). It makes sense - Bond in moving is in midlife crisis mode and this movie is the equivalent of him quitting his job, working out, and generally not caring about anything.

Goldfinger is probably my favorite Bond movie. Let's just start with the fact that Sean Connery wears a tux under his wetsuit in the opening sequence. Who does that? It's the epitome of debonair cool. This is also the Bond movie that gave us one of the greatest movie urban legends of all time: that Shirley Eaton, the actress who dies from being painted gold had died in real life because of the paint. She's still alive but her gold form is as iconic as James Bond himself. I also really love Oddjob, Goldfinger's henchmen, who kills people with his hat and has a great death scene of his own. I'm also fairly certain that this is the only Bond movie where a majority of the action takes place in Kentucky. If James Bond had been an American spy, maybe his drink of choice would have been a mint julep.

And because I can't help myself, another list:

My Ten Favorite Bond Theme Songs

1. Goldfinger - For real, listen to Shirley Bassey's voice on this song. It is amazing.
2. Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney and Wings
3. Skyfall - Adele
4. Nobody Does It Better - Carly Simon
5. Diamonds Are Forever - Shirley Bassey
6. Another Way to Die - Jack White and Alicia Keyes
7. A View to a Kill - Duran Duran and James Bond!!!! The video for this song is pretty awesome.
8. The Man with the Golden Gun - I love Lulu. Who doesn't? 
9. For Your Eyes Only - Sheena Easton
10. Goldeneye - I can't help it - it's not a great song but I love Tina Turner and it's magical.

And by the way, Kevin Spacey would be an excellent Bond villain. I think we need to make this happen.

Videos from youtube.com

Ain't talkin' bout love

Because I can't help myself, I watched a Hallmark movie called The Wish List this past weekend. I don't know what it is about having nothing to do and being roped into a silly, love is all around you made for tv movie but I can't help myself. If it happens to feature my crush since age 12 or Rory's dad from Gilmore Girls, well so much the better.

This round: The Wish List. The movie is about a hyper-organized woman named Sarah who tires of dating the wrong guys so she makes a list of all the things she is looking for in a man. And I don't mean that she keeps a list in her head; she puts up a large white board in her closet and writes it all down along with check boxes. It's pretty amazing actually. In the space of days she meets two men - one who embodies almost every item on her list and one who is the complete opposite of everything on the list (Rory's dad from Gilmore Girls). I think we all know where this is going. These movies are addictive because they follow a very specific formula that makes everyone feel calm and loved and hopeful. Damn you, Hallmark!

We all know I love a list so at the onset of this movie, I thought this whole list for love idea was genius. What could possibly go wrong with a list like this? I firmly believe that life's issues and concerns can be solved by a great list. Organizing your day, pro/con lists for things that aren't easy to decide, deciding on which apartment you prefer (you can substitute other material goods here - cars, computers, etc.), making sure you get everything you need at the grocery. Lists are the best.

As the movie progressed, I became completely underwhelmed and disappointed with Sarah and her list (it's also possible that it was the bad dialogue and the overacting but I can't really be sure). I'm not convinced that a list could actually help a person find love. A list is the exact opposite of most of the words and ideas people have about love. A list is rigid, organized, planned, contained. Love may be some of those things but it's also spontaneous, unexpected, uncontainable. I may be passionate about lists but I don't think there's anything particularly passionate about them. No one reads Anna Karenina and wonders if Anna was organized (I'm guessing not) or wrote a good list (it's possible this is true since she did have a household staff and infidelity to manage).

This also goes completely against the idea that life is not linear. I know that's not true and if I tried to plan every aspect of my life, I would never accomplish anything. Or I'd only accomplish the mundane things. I'm realizing that I am way more Type-A than I really want to admit.

The perfect man (in this movie) points out that one of the items not on Sarah's list was actually love. She could list qualities and habits but she couldn't plan for falling in love with someone. She could check off all the criteria but that didn't mean that she felt anything. Interestingly, I had a similar conversation with two friends at happy hour yesterday. Our conversation went something like this: when you're the single friend in a group, your married/attached friends automatically find the single person in the room for you. They work through a checklist of things (single, not a felon, told a mildly funny joke, knows how to read) but don't really think through the longer term connection that's needed to make a relationship work. Being single is the only factor that matters.

So I've decided that this is just one of those things that I will have to stop trying to plan. Instead I will consider the following: the only thing that I really require in the future love of my life is his ability to sit through a terrible Hallmark movie with me without being asked and having Kleenex ready (since I do tend to get weepy when I watch these movies).

Trust me, that's love.

I may not leave my house once winter starts

Conferences are exhausting. It's nice to be home and have a day to do absolutely nothing (and by nothing I mean laundry and watching tv - you, know things I don't have to leave the house to do). I feel like a bit of an old lady this time around; I don't think I stayed out past 10 pm the entire conference.

Anyway, the important thing that I learned during this conference is that I am grossly unprepared for cold weather. It's only October so I don't think anyone was expecting it to be as cold as it was even though the conference was in Denver. When I checked the weather report a few days before the trip, it said that it would be in the 60s and 70s  during the day and the 30s in the evenings. No snow was in the forecast and I believed that I packed accordingly. I even grabbed my fall weight jacket just in case. The forecast lied. It was in the 80s the first day I was in town but then it got super cold and there was a light dusting of snow. My fall jacket was not appropriate and I really should have brought different shoes. Ballet flats were not the best choice.

I left northern Virginia after Snowpocalypse 2009/2010 (two blizzards in less than 3 months was enough for me). Living in Northern California was no day at the beach (that's SoCal). We have "winter" where it ranges between the 30s-40s and rains all the time. If you're an outdoorsy kind of person, you can go up into the mountains and ski and do other things people who like cold do in the winter the months. Obviously, I stayed in my cozy apartment watching Hallmark holiday movies and drinking hot chocolate. This behavior has in no way prepared me to be back in a place that has actual seasons and the potential for snow.

Now I know that NOVA winters are not like winters in Minnesota or Maine or Vermont, but for real, it's cold and the potential for snow is real. Now that I don't have my SUV, I have visions of myself stranded on the side of the road in my little blue car. I'm sure that this won't happen but the thought is still there. I guess I should probably keep a blanket in the car and maybe some water or something. Right?

One thing that I do love about the fact that winter is coming is that we have to go through fall first. Fall is my favorite season of them all and I've been without fall for two whole years. No pretty leaves and no real crisp weather. I like getting my sweaters out (and buying a few new ones), wearing my cute boots (that are in no way winter weather appropriate), and Halloween and Thanksgiving (best holidays ever).

You know what else happens in the fall? I make pumpkin cookies. I'm making the first batch of the season today (the photo is from last year). One of my co-workers describes these cookies as "pumpkin crack" and I can't say that I disagree with him. My apartment will smell pumpkin-y and fall-y. And I will temporarily forget about my fear of the winter and the cold.

Possibly my favorite thing about the Colorado Convention Center.

My apartment looks lonely

The one part of moving that I hate, detest, abhor, and loathe is packing. There is nothing fun about packing. Part of this comes from my history of moving. When I was younger and we moved every 3-4 years (thanks U.S. Army), moving companies would just magically show up at our house and pack everything. And I do mean everything. If you didn't watch carefully, your garbage would get packed. I remember my parents stationing themselves around the house to watch and as we got older, I believe my brother and I did this too. My parents had to be very specific about certain areas of the house that we'll call "packer free zones." Family photos, important papers, and some of my mom's antiques would be in this zone. We had many items walk over the years from my dad's tools to an afghan my grandmother made for my brother. I'm convinced that my enormous Cheer Bear Care Bear (the pink one with the rainbow on its tummy) was stolen not just left behind when we moved to Alabama.

It's not like we never had to pack when we moved. Obviously we had to pack our clothes and things we'd need in the car but the majority of the work was done by someone else. (In most instances. Don't ever ask my mother about the move from Georgia to Hawaii. Ever.) It wasn't until I went to college that I had to start packing on my own. In college, packing wasn't so terrible because I didn't have much to pack. As I moved from dorm room to my first apartment, most of my belongings fit in a few suitcases and boxes. Furniture was minimal. I think my roommate and I had only a few big things between us (beds, the sofa) and everything else we got once we moved. Friends gave us most of our furniture anyway so it wasn't like it mattered if it got a little beat up. Even as we moved from that apartment to a larger one the next year, we still didn't really spend much time packing. We probably needed a few more boxes to accommodate my roommate's love of all things Christmas (we could have a tree!) and I think we had acquired more kitchen stuff since eating on campus was not really as much of an option anymore. Packing was fun because it usually involved drinking and planning all the awesome things we'd need to get once we got settled into our new place. I miss college some days.

Between 2001 (when I graduated from college and spent a year in Hawaii) and now, I've begun the very grown-up process of accumulating stuff. And when you accumulate stuff you have to pack it when you move. That's how moving works. When I moved back to Louisiana after the year in Hawaii, I moved into my first apartment by myself. I was responsible for all the furniture and dishes and everything else you think you need in your house. I started buying real furniture, got my first television, starting collecting Fiesta dishes, got a stand mixer, and began my collection of baking accoutrement. I also have a lot of books and a decent CD collection. And clothes and shoes-so many shoes.

Packing takes forever. I started the process in mid-May and you'd think I'd be done by now but I'm not. Once you've started accumulating stuff, packing becomes a multi-stage process. My packing process goes something like this:

1. Purge the clothes. I go through my closets (I have 2 here), my stored clothes, and my chest of drawers and get rid of anything I have not worn in over a year or that doesn't fit anymore. I do the same thing with shoes. If it's still wearable, it goes into the donation box. If not, the trash.
2. Purge books, DVDs, and CDs. This is much harder than the clothes purging. I'm ridiculously attached to my books and CDs so deciding to get rid of any of them is always difficult. For books, I use a few questions like "Did I buy you at the airport?" and "Did my friend who loves chick lit recommend you to me?" Those go in the donation box. For CDs, I think about the last time I listened to it. If it's over 2 years and I don't anticipate listening anytime soon, it goes in the box. I might add a few songs to my iTunes library first but it still goes in the box.
3. Purge kitchen and housewares. This is relatively easy so I do it last because I don't agonize over getting rid of the extra set of cake pans that I don't really need or the plastic holiday serving trays that I will never use again.
4. Begin packing. I start with non-essentials. Non-essentials include my books, CDs, DVDs, all kitchen stuff I don't use frequently, extra sets of sets and towels, and all clothes I won't wear until I get resettled. I usually find more stuff to donate or throw away during this process.
5. Pack everything else. This allows you to put things you'll need immediately towards the back of the truck (because you will need them first when you get to your new place) and separate what you'll need in the car and on the drive (and this is true whether you're moving across town or across the country).

I've just recently finished steps 1-3 and I'm almost through with step 4. Step 4 is proving to be the hardest because this step includes pretty much all the stuff that makes my apartment my home. I've taken pictures off the wall, boxed up all my books (sorry little friends), and just packed all the little randoms that live around my apartment (including my Sex Pistols lunchbox, a Mr. T figurine, and my owl collection). My apartment looks lonely.

You probably can't tell but there are nails in the wall where my awesome NOLA photo collection used to be.

Red is for avoidance

 I've been trying to avoid the lonely apartment phase of moving. I dyed my hair, decided to reorganize my bathroom cabinet, watched Rhinestone again (too bad it's not in the On Demand free movies section or I'd watch it a third time this month), and have read about 7 free books on my Kindle. (This is why I shouldn't have ever gotten a Kindle - free books are just too tempting.) I'm writing this post instead of dealing with my kitchen. I've also spent way too much time looking at the things I've found as I repack and organize. For example, I found my patch sash from when I was in Brownies in 1986. It was at the bottom of a box of pictures and mementos from school (elementary through high school-yeah, I save everything). And now I want to figure out how to give patches out for everything in life. The last two steps are taking forever.

           The move is going to happen a lot sooner than I think. I have this week, then I'm out of town for a work trip, and then it's my last week in Alameda. I have to finish packing, clean my apartment, drop off another load of donations, figure out what to do with the tv and furniture I don't want, pick up the truck, and fetch Scott from the airport. Then we have to get the truck loaded and get on the road. And of course, I need to say goodbye to people, do those last few California/East Bay things I want to do before I leave, and say goodbye to my favorite apartment of all time. When does the fun part of moving start?