Today I am 30, as indicated by having stuck a pink bow to my sweater. (My family is one of few traditions, but one is that when you get a present, you stick the bow on yourself, prefereably on your head. Actually I might be the only one in my family who does that....) In an hour I have to go work the front desk and I can't decide whether to de-bow for the occasion. I think not.
People keep asking me how I feel about being 30, and I feel g. V g. All I can say is, I really do hope this decade is filled with much less "not knowing" than the previous one and a half. I have been lucky enough to have a lot of the following things in life so far, but my birthday wish is for: more confidence, more calm, more creativity, more care for everyone and everything, more affection, more kindliness, more travels, more good books, more time with friends.
Oh, and for the world and everything and everone in it to heal and be joyful. Because right now, frankly, it hurts to think about. But for a change, I think today I can avoid thinking about it, because it is a truly beautiful day, clear and crisp, full of flowers and sunshine, the kind when dogs lift their noses into the breeze and their ears flutter, and if you tip your head to one side and squint, you can imagine everyone else is having a beautiful day too, the kind of day when it's impossible to be anything other than happy and laughing and ready to be nice to others.
It's perfect.
Yay 30!
in which we are older and wiser, we hope
New IRS form of the day: 1040Xtreme!
In my first year of home-owning, there has been a cavalcade (per the OED, "A ride, a march or raid on horseback. Obs." and believe you me I mean the "raid" sense) of things that are new, or shocking, or complicated, or even horrifying to me, almost on a daily basis: gutters need to be cleaned but I am anxious about ladders, kitchen floors need to be laid but I can't figure out how to deal with moving the fridge, how to plant flowers so that they will actually survive (and maybe even bloom?). And now, thirty-five days after taxes were due, I finally locate a piece of very important paperwork that entitles me to several hundred dollars back on my taxes becuase of the mortgage program I'm in. All during February and March I wondered where this document was, why the bank hadn't sent me any forms. So I Turbo Taxed my way to greatness and got my e-refund and all was well, except that I knew I hadn't done everything right, but I didn't know how to fix it.
Of course, the bank did send me the forms, but they sent them to me in November, which is so far ahead of time that it's pointless. Everyone knows you can't do your taxes in November. That just leaves extra months for people to lose things. Which, despite a chuckling, bold-fonted warning in the letter attached to my form, I promptly did. We'll see if the federal government will let me mend the error of my ways. If so, the appletinis are on me.
Of course, the bank did send me the forms, but they sent them to me in November, which is so far ahead of time that it's pointless. Everyone knows you can't do your taxes in November. That just leaves extra months for people to lose things. Which, despite a chuckling, bold-fonted warning in the letter attached to my form, I promptly did. We'll see if the federal government will let me mend the error of my ways. If so, the appletinis are on me.
in which we discuss the pros and cons of historical reality tv shows
Manor House is quite possibly the best tv show ever. I laughed, I cried, I cringed, I learned. I can't wait to see how Colonial House stacks up. I've already gasped once and yelled at the people a bunch - e.g. why do you seem to be so surprised that you have to go to church or that women are at the bottom of the heap (um, what about servants?) - and remarked that I am glad I did not live then. All hallmarks of a good historical reality show. Surviving the Iron Age is shaping up nicely too - beardy-weirdie druid guy, three professional metal workers who totally bring it on the usefulness, scratchy-looking tunics, honey beer apple mush, etc.
Goodbye, Mr. Bojangles!
I have two favorite things about Mr. Bonjangles: 1) whenever Jason comes in the room, he stops whatever he is doing and runs to the corner of his cage that is closest to wherever Jason is and 2) Jason said that when he was in China and didn't know the name for a gerbil or parrot or chinchilla or whatever, he would call them "little friends." Okay, so technically that second thing is not about Mr. Bonjangles, but I'm pretty sure it came up in conversation because of Mr. Bonjangles.
May you romp happily ever more, little friend!
May you romp happily ever more, little friend!
in which 90 minutes into a ceremony is too late
Saturday Jason graduated. AND gave a speech on how the maturation process of undergads is like the maturation of their research paper writing skills. In keeping with that, Jason himself may have left paper writing until the last minute, but he certainly has figured out the big thing and has gone after it. He's more clear-headed about what he values and why and how to get involved with it than most people I know.
We had made a big posterboard sign that said "Vote Wilson 2016," which would be the first year he's eligible to run for president, and had held it up numerous times, when about 90 minutes into the graduation a very polite usher told us he needed to confiscate it but that we could pick it up at the ticket office later. We were doubtful, given the similar experience of Melina. Why bother taking it away about 15 minutes before the end of the event? Even though it was silly, they were so nice about it that it's hard to mind much. (Luci got the sign back and gave it to Jason, who posed happily for the camera.)
PS After a weekend conversation about who could and could not do one-handed push-ups, we realized that Josh is indeed gone.
We had made a big posterboard sign that said "Vote Wilson 2016," which would be the first year he's eligible to run for president, and had held it up numerous times, when about 90 minutes into the graduation a very polite usher told us he needed to confiscate it but that we could pick it up at the ticket office later. We were doubtful, given the similar experience of Melina. Why bother taking it away about 15 minutes before the end of the event? Even though it was silly, they were so nice about it that it's hard to mind much. (Luci got the sign back and gave it to Jason, who posed happily for the camera.)
PS After a weekend conversation about who could and could not do one-handed push-ups, we realized that Josh is indeed gone.
in which there is proof, in addition to the Red Green Show, that even I will not watch something just becuase it's Canadian
I am a capital-f Fan of design and DIY tv shows, and I get truly excited to see a new one. I know this isn't exactly new, but yesterday I caught my first episode of Designer Guys. I am most seriously displeased, and that's saying a lot: I mean, they're snippy decorators, they're Canadian, they appear to film in Toronto. What's not to love? A complete lack of relevant content, that's what. Maybe my taste is just too far off from theirs to find this entertaining, but the bickering is really annoying. I agree that debate and discussion are a big part of making taste-based decisions, but come on.
To be fair, their own website says "don't call it a decorating show" or "an information show." So I won't. I'll call it a show I won't watch.
Also, I give major points for an insult about hot pink accessories, approximately as follows: "What? I can't hear you. Your belt is too loud."
On the other side of the reversible duvet cover, I love love love HGTV's Home to Go, which features a loveable, useful host and loveable, useful content. (Note that it's only the Canadian HGTV website that lists the show's projects and provides instructions, even though US HGTV also broadcasts the show. It's almost as though Canadians secretly don't even really want the rest of the world to know how cool they are. You can't have it both ways, people: you either get to whine that no one recognizes you for your true greatness, or you get to hoard your greatness all to yourself, not both. But maybe this is instead a case of the US version not wanting to link to Canadian greatness. Anyhoo....) Before I bought my house, I longed for shows and magazines that featured projects and issues pertaining to those of us who rent out living spaces - no repainting, no knocking down walls, no installing new floors. This show is genius for its affordable, adaptable, flexible, truly cool projects. I like that reality is a factor to the projects. Also the host is really good at explaining what he's doing and what tools and supplies are needed.
To be fair, their own website says "don't call it a decorating show" or "an information show." So I won't. I'll call it a show I won't watch.
Also, I give major points for an insult about hot pink accessories, approximately as follows: "What? I can't hear you. Your belt is too loud."
On the other side of the reversible duvet cover, I love love love HGTV's Home to Go, which features a loveable, useful host and loveable, useful content. (Note that it's only the Canadian HGTV website that lists the show's projects and provides instructions, even though US HGTV also broadcasts the show. It's almost as though Canadians secretly don't even really want the rest of the world to know how cool they are. You can't have it both ways, people: you either get to whine that no one recognizes you for your true greatness, or you get to hoard your greatness all to yourself, not both. But maybe this is instead a case of the US version not wanting to link to Canadian greatness. Anyhoo....) Before I bought my house, I longed for shows and magazines that featured projects and issues pertaining to those of us who rent out living spaces - no repainting, no knocking down walls, no installing new floors. This show is genius for its affordable, adaptable, flexible, truly cool projects. I like that reality is a factor to the projects. Also the host is really good at explaining what he's doing and what tools and supplies are needed.
in which a seemingly far-off sad moment is realized
Goodbye Gormans! I won't pretend that I'm not really, really sad - but I won't pretend that I'm not really, really happy for you either. Memphis will be marvelous and I can't wait to know your lives there.
On the bright side, as the carful of friends said on the way home from Mary's very cool (and very loudly cheered, I might add) graduation, when God closes a Josh and Mary, God opens an Abby. Which is the kind of math I'm having to accept just to feel the slightest bit cheered up.
On the bright side, as the carful of friends said on the way home from Mary's very cool (and very loudly cheered, I might add) graduation, when God closes a Josh and Mary, God opens an Abby. Which is the kind of math I'm having to accept just to feel the slightest bit cheered up.
