All I'm Saying there's a joke in here somewhere

Well. Four days later...how was your Thanksgiving? I hope it was great!

My family was surprisingly well-behaved. I think. In a very unusual stroke of timing, Matt and I actually had dinner on the table when we said we would, which I think confused my eldest brother and his family who were aiming to still be early for dinner, despite arriving 15 minutes later than we said we'd have the food on the table. But no matter. My little brother (The Twit) showed up and behaved, and I have to say I felt a little bad for him because his was the blood the sharks smelt in the water. The sharks being aforementioned eldest brother and my dad, and they gave The Twit a pretty hard time about his DUI from this past summer. I said nary a word, and I wouldn't have dreamed of saying a word. *shrug*

On Friday, we went down to the "Empty Bowls" event, which is a benefit for the Idaho Food Bank. Local artisans and volunteers create and paint pottery or ceramic bowls, and you pay $10 and get to pick which bowl you want and have it filled with soup. Tasty, tasty soup. They made 2300 bowls and I believe they sold out. Matt read that part of the point was to teach we more privileged types what it is like to stand in a long line to get food--having spent about a half hour in line, it was kind of an "Ohhhh..." moment for us.

We went downtown again Saturday to see the Boise Holiday Parade, which was quite a bit of fun, in spite of the rain. Freya had an absolute blast. Highlights included the Ada County Paramedics doing a choreographed routine to "Staying Alive," wherein they did a sort of synchronized routine with wheeled stretchers and did CPR on stuffed animals; when the area Shriners had their little bitty cars out doing maneuvers and one guy stopped and the other three behind him didn't realize it until too late and they had a four itty bitty car pile-up; and when we saw two of the Shriners from Cascade driving a jeep with true all-wheel drive because one guy's steering wheel drove the front wheels and the other guy's steering wheel (same jeep, two steering wheels) drove the back ones.

And today has been largely vegetative, though I did go pick up the family Christmas photo card from CostCo and am cooking a turkey tetrazinni casserole right now. It's only day three of the pantry challenge, but so far we haven't been too tempted to go to the grocery store for anything. We've also avoided most other retail places because of my terror of Black Friday shoppers, only enhanced by the WalMart fatality in New York you've all already heard about.

Anyway. That's mine. How was yours?

I wish you all a happy Thanksgiving, and for those of you who share my situation of hosting your families, may all your dishes be ready at the same time.

I think it will be a semi-uneventful dinner at our place. I hope. The counselor I was seeing last year suggested that instead of engaging my family (i.e., trying to "fix" them when they do something wrong), I just sit back and watch them as though they were on a tv show I tuned in to. I don't have to react to what they do and I don't have to change it. I just get to sit back and watch. If they try to engage and draw me in, I can always go check on one of the dishes in the oven.

Because not all of mine will be done at the same time. I can assure you of that.

The day after Thanksgiving, we're taking on a Pantry Challenge. Roughly, that means that we aren't going to do any grocery shopping for two weeks--we're going to eat food that is already in our freezer or our pantry. (With the exception of produce and milk, as needed. Fresh food is allowed.) Want to join us?

I go grocery shopping every week, and end up spending about $65. Mostly I end up buying stuff that is not strictly necessary, and the stuff in the pantry just gets shoved farther back in to make room for the new stuff. Every now and then we catch word of a food drive for the local pantries, so we go in and donate the failed food: the hearts of palm, the peanut butter granola bars that Freya turned her nose up at, a couple of cans of "What was I thinking?" soup, etc. Despite that, the pantry is cluttered.

I'm thinking the Challenge will (a) help decrease the amount of stuff in the pantry, (b) save about $130 that I can otherwise put toward Christmas stuff, (c) make me more aware of what I buy in the grocery store so that I use it more wisely, and (d) ensure that we use up our leftovers for lunches, rather than tossing them in the trash.

If you're interested in joining up, you can elect to do it the same way, or you can just vow to not eat out for two weeks. You could allow yourself one grocery trip on Friday or Saturday if you want to do it but this catches you flat-footed and you need to do a little menu planning to make sure you have the right accoutrements for all those bags of dried beans on the shelf. My plan for our beans involves ham leftovers from Thanksgiving--split pea soup, and I'll also have turkey leftovers to combine with frozen peas and spaghetti for turkey tetrazzini.

C'mon, join me! You can do it!

Do you know how many calories are in a Dairy Queen Georgia Mud Fudge Blizzard?

How's 1010 sound? It also has 83% of your recommended daily fat intake.

I wish I had read that before I ate two-thirds of one. Jeezus.

I got a book from the library the other day called, The 19th Wife, which is a novel about a woman in a spin-off of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--that kooky little outfit in southern Utah that has umpity-jillion polygamous relationships in it. The book also excerpts from the real-life story of Ann Eliza Young, one of Brigham Young's wives. She left him and the religion and wrote an expose' that was certainly quite interesting to the public of the time.

The premise of the book is that a young gay man is thrown out of the community at age 14 and makes it on his own to Las Vegas and a life of relative normalcy. But then he finds out that his mother has been accused of his father's murder, so he travels back to the polygamist community to try and find out what really did happen.

It's quite, QUITE interesting. I don't know how much of it is or isn't true, but it's just scary from the perspective of what can happen to people in a cult. And hey, if you're interested in becoming involved in a polygamous relationship, the book directs you to a website (real) called 2Wives. You know, just in case you are looking around for a new direction in your life or something.

Am I here to help, or what? If you don't know where to start looking, try this one first.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate the wind? I could never live in Wyoming. I think it stems somewhat from the room I had in my childhood home: there were two windows and one faced the west. West is the direction that most of the wind in this part of Idaho comes from--it's pretty unusual to get a north wind or a south wind, and really unusual for an east wind. Anyway, the window must not have been installed all that well, because most strong winds would cause it to make this dreadful moaning sound, and it chilled my blood, man. I knew it was the wind. But it felt like there was something more to it.

The wind is blowing like the devil out right now, and it's giving me the willies. It's funny how you can be a grown-up person and have something give you that childhood sense of fear.

What scared the pants off you as a kid, and does it still today?

Well, I'm back on the exercise wagon. It's not exactly that I fell off the wagon, but recent developments with the way my jeans fit have encouraged me to Do Better. I started doing the Cool Runnings Couch to 5k program last winter and made it like 5 or 6 weeks in and crapped out. But I definitely knew I was getting results from that--I just got bored on the treadmill and went back to elliptical workouts.

I've decided to try again, this time with a couple of modifications. One, I've taken it outside. I go run along one of the irrigation canals near my office. Being outside seems to help me in that there is at least some mental stimulation and scenery change. Two, I'm using a different running program, the PodRunner program with a DJ mix that speeds up when you do your run interval and slows when you walk. It helps me measure my interval time without having to look at my watch, and the mix is different for each phase of the program.

Finally, I've started using SparkPeople to track my fitness program and my nutrition. I'm not dieting, but I'm hoping that monitoring my calories will help me make better decisions about treats and snacks.

Anyway, wish me luck. And now I'm off to soak in epsom salts for a while--the running is making me hella sore.

Well, we weren't able to get in to see Greg Mortenson tonight: they weren't giving out advance tickets and the line was evidently 50 people long at 5:00 tonight. When we got there at 6:50, they had a full house of 2000 seats and were letting people hang out in the lobby to hear the audio piped in.

Matt and I decided we'd try to catch the whole presentation another time Mortenson comes to Boise, hopefully, when we've got more time to get there early and enjoy the whole program.

The amazing thing is that he packed the house in Boise, Idaho. Imagine if each person there gave $5 to the program--it only takes $8000 to build a school in Pakistan, according to his book. You factor in inflation, and boise might have just built an entire school. Then multiply that by each speaking engagement he gets per year--we really can change the world, folks.

Maybe next time!

I. am. so. excited.

Greg Mortenson, one of the authors of the book Three Cups of Tea and the founder of the Central Asia Institute is coming to Boise tomorrow night to speak and I actually found out about it in time! And then we actually found an available babysitter!

Mortenson was a mountain climber who made a failed attempt to climb K2 and got separated from his climbing party on the way back down. His sherpa led him to the sherpa's home village in extreme-rural Pakistan and brought him back to health. Mortenson vowed that he would somehow return the gift by building a school in the village. After many struggles and much frustration, he achieved his goal. And then he built another. And another. And many more in Pakistan, and then expanded out to Afghanistan.

What's so amazing about building schools in the Middle East? A couple of things. One: there are so few opportunities for children to attend school in these areas, and the only other option parents have is to send their sons to the religious madrassas, which are often sponsored by Muslim extremists. The parents don't usually want their children to become extremists--they're a lot like you and I and prefer a more middle-of-the-road approach. The Institute's schools teach a secular program without religion, and they also don't try to force Western values on these kids. They just get to be Pakistani kids learning the regular Pakistani (or Afghan) curriculum. The other reason the schools are amazing is because they require that girls can attend. The schools won't open in a community that won't let its daughters become educated.

I'm just so tickled I'm finally going to get to see him live! That is, if we can get tickets at the door--I think I have someone from work who will pick up extras for me, but they don't allow her extras, I may be screwed. Send good thoughts for me!

I went back to the Join the Impact website tonight and found out what folks have in mind to carry forward the momentum from yesterday's rallies across the country (and in Australia and Canada!).

Wednesday, December 10 is International Human Rights Day. JtI also proposes that it is Day Without a Gay, where folks who are gay call in to work, not sick, but gay. From the website:

On December 10, 2008 the gay community will take a historic stance against hatred by donating love to a variety of different causes.

On December 10, you are encouraged not to call in sick to work. You are encouraged to call in "gay"--and donate your time to service!

I need to screw my courage to the sticking point and talk to the guy in charge of my workplace--not my boss, but my boss's boss--and suggest to him that anyone in our organization who calls in should be granted paid time off without impacting their vacation time. I don't know how gay-friendly he is, but the worst he can do is tell me no, right?

That goes hand in hand with Join the Impact's other suggestion for action: if each of us who attended a rally were to talk to 10 people in the next 10 months about gay rights and try to respectfully change the minds of those who oppose gay marriage, the whole nation would be transformed!

Freya and I attended our respective first rally ever today! We joined with other Join the Impact supporters across the country and even in Canada and Australia to protest against California's Proposition 8, which made void all the previously-legal gay marriages in the state.

I carried a sign saying, "I'm straight, I'm married, I support gay rights," and I had a number of people come up at the rally and thank me. And I was so incredibly proud to identify at least four other people from my workplace who were there as well. I felt really good to be employed by a place that has progressively-minded employees.

You can check out news clips on the Boise rally here and and here.

Erica, I was thinking of you and Missy for a lot of the time we were there. It's going to happen--we just have a little ways left to go.

Remember that I was all freaked out that someone would steal the Obama magnet off my car? It appears I should have been more concerned about our yard sign.

The day after the election, it disappeared from our front yard by the time I got back from work. I thought Matt had taken it down, since we'd just discussed doing that so as not to piss off the homewoners association. I thought he just moved with unusual alacrity, so I didn't say anything.

Then a couple of days ago, I asked him where he put it. "Put it? I thought you'd put it somewhere." A quick check of the garage showed neither of us had put it anywhere.

I hope someone stole it because they were excited about the outcome and wanted to have a tiny little piece of an historic moment. (An historic? A historic? What say you?) I'd hate to think a poor loser took it away. We wanted to keep it for Freya as a keepsake. We actually have a McCain/Palin sign as well--Matt found it out on the National Forest one day while patrolling and because posting anything on public land is illegal, so he took it down.

So much for my matched set...

Look what Matt found in the clamshell of CostCo apples he got the other day:

Our conversation went like this...

Me: Hard to believe that one snuck past quality control.

Matt: I really wish it looked like Jesus. We could make a lot of money off an apple that looked like Jesus.

Me: It might look like His butt.

Would you pay five bucks to see Idaho's first iconic food item, The Apple of Jesus' Bottom? Are we on to something here? Or should we just eat it?

I knew you guys would want to see a picture of my new eyeglasses.

There ya go. I really like Sarah Palin's glasses, but I knew everyone and their dog bought them when Tina Fey did (including Sarah, I suspect), and so I researched exactly what hers looked like to make sure I didn't end up with the same thing.

I've been wearing corrective lenses since I was about 14, when I realized I couldn't read road signs. Important to do when you're driving, especially because back then we could get our driver's licenses at 14. Scary... You so do not want a blonde adolescent driver to also be semi-blind. I switched to contacts at about 20 years old, and now the doctor says he wants me in glasses more often for the sake of my eye health and my "aging eyes." (Bastard.)

Whaddya think?

You guys, I really had intended to not talk much about the election--didn't want to be a sore winner or anything. But seriously, stuff keeps coming up! Like this little ditty by Drew Hardy and the Nancy Boys..."There's No One as Irish as Barack Obama".

Turn it up.

I have to admit his dancing does give me a small wince. But hey, a man who will dance in public gets no less than a C+ for trying.

All this hope that people are feeling after the election...hope for change, hope for good, hope that we can unite and give one another a hand. You people and your hope are just infectious, and that's problematic for a dour Norwegian like me! Here's what happened to me yesterday:

I was stopped at a stop-light and watching a young man in my rear-view mirror. He was clearly singing along with the radio and I saw him pause, then I think he busted me watching him. But he started pointing to our Obama/Biden sticker on the back of the car, and he gave me a big thumbs-up. I returned it, and had a warm fuzzy feeling.

As he passed me on the freeway, I made eye contact and flashed him the V for Victory/peace sign, and he flashed it back and moved on. I have made a lot of gestures in traffic during my time, but that's the first time one has ever made me feel so good.

I realized that the victory sign is the same as peace, and it made me think, "Peace is the greatest victory of all." Can we get there? Can we even get close? I'm not sure, but honestly, for the first time in my whole life, I feel patriotic. I've never been proud to be an American--I'm sure there are multiple other countries out there who have it as good, if not better than us. But now I feel like maybe enough of us are pulling together that we really can make this a place that I am proud of.

And my Inner Norwegian is saying, "Oh, it is SO going to suck for you if this doesn't work out. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Dear Mouse,

First of all, I want to send wishes that the changes we voted for this past week will bring positive, meaningful results to the days when you are reading this. Your dad and I are terribly happy that America has elected Barack Obama to the presidency. We do it with an enormous amount of hope.

You, my dear, roll along oblivious to national and global change. Your world is mainly what goes on here at home and at your school. We had parent/teacher conferences this week and your teachers are so impressed with you. You recently had a daily report card that excitedly mentioned that you'd taken the letters out of the school alphabet puzzle and used them to spell your name. When your teacher mentioned that in conference, your dad and I looked at each other and I said, "Well, she's actually been doing that for months with her magnets." They're bringing lessons over from the preschool because they are excited at how close to reading you are. Right now you know almost all the phonetic sounds letters make, though vowels just throw you. We've been working on spelling out short words with you by breaking them down into sounds. You spelled "drip" the other night in the tub. You're awesome.

The best thing brought up in the conference is that you are incredibly kind to your classmates. Your school is transitioning from a toddler and a preschool program, to two preschool programs. We decided to keep you with your current teacher, which makes you the oldest child in the "new" preschool. That said, you are evidently helping to teach your classmates. If one child seems stuck with a lesson, you watch them, and then walk over and ask them if they'd like help, and then you show them what to do. When a friend cries, you sit on the floor beside them and rub their back to show them you are there to bring them comfort. I am so enormously proud of you for your kindness. It's a beautiful part of your cherished soul.

We love you so much,
Mommy

Remember that job I applied for a while ago? The one I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted it?

I didn't mention that it is with an employer that is legally (in fact, Congressionally) allowed to hire with a preference for a certain racial background. I knew that going in, and I accept that.

I had an e-mail today stating that enough candidates from that background had applied that my application was not going to be forwarded for consideration. Ninety-three percent of me is really relieved, in that I was so conflicted about whether or not the job was a good move for me. But the other seven percent is kind of upset that I didn't get to compete for it based on my own merit.

That strikes me as something of an irony. I mean, here I am, a middle-class white girl who is saying, "Wait a second!" And then I think back on the millions of people of color in the last two decades alone (supposedly enlightened decades) that have faced similar and much worse experiences with discrimination in hiring, and I realize that the perspective is good for me: I'm just miffed, based on one occurrence. Imagine if I'd spent much of my life dealing with discrimination...

I don't have any moral to attribute to this story. I think I'm just going to take it as it is and try to grow a little from it.

Fifteen minutes ago is not a good time to find out Freya's Montessori is going to be closed tomorrow afternoon and Friday afternoon to accomodate the parent/teacher conferences.

The newsletter said we'd be having the conferences; there is a sign-up appointment sheet in Freya's classroom. The newsletter said, "Pick-up is at 12:30, so please be prompt!" but it did not say that it was due to a half-day of school. I just assumed it was something specific to the kids who only went for half-days.

But alas, no. I have no idea what I'm going to do; Matt is working hunting season and this is not a great time of year for him to spontaneously drop a shift. I left my boss a voice mail explaining the situation and saying I'd need to either try to work from home or take vacation time, and I'm sure he'll be accomodating, but JEEBUS.

Maybe I should have asked more questions. I thought my reading comprehension was pretty good...

As established in my last post, presidential elections are hard for me. I woke up this morning with a knot in my stomach--the day had finally come. America was headed to the polls, and 24 hours later, there should be a president-to-be.

Matt came in as I was getting ready and saw me on the bed just sitting, holding one of my shoes. He said, "What's wrong?" and I said, "I'm scared, worried, upset..." He tried to bolster me.

I loaded Freya up to go to school (and me to the sheriff's office to renew my driver's license), and we headed down the road. And guess what I saw at the very first intersection I came to? A man standing on the corner, all bundled up against the cold, waving an Obama/Biden sign. I rolled down my window and beeped and waved to him, and he waved back at me. And then I heard another car beeping.

That's the only time I have cried today. I don't know who the man was, but he gave me hope. I needed that. He gets my sincere thanks, and hopefully a bucket-load of good karma.

At the time of this post, Google is reporting Obama with 78 electoral votes and McCain has 34. I cried a little more when I saw that.

It just wouldn't be a presidential election if I didn't have a sinus thing going on. Do you suppose I get so anxious that my immune system tanks, making me vulnerable to things like germs and electoral colleges?

So. Here we are. Election Day is tomorrow. How are you all doing?

I'm feeling fraught. I have to admit that even if "my candidate" doesn't win tomorrow, it (probably) won't be as bad a feeling as I had in 2004. Truly, The Day After that one goes on record as one of my personal worst. Election Day was on my birthday, and all I wanted (all) was for Kerry to win it. I went in to get my driver's license renewed (said post just made me realize that my driver's license did, in fact, expire yesterday, DAMMIT). Matt made me a great dinner, but while I had been out working that day, I started coming down with the sinus thing. The news was making me feel worse, so I went to bed early, before Kerry's phone call of concession.

The next morning was awful.

Sinus issues aside, I don't think my anxiety levels today match those of four years ago. But...jeez...I'd really like to wake up in a good mood on Wednesday.

Let's talk about you, though. Did you vote yet? How are you feeling about things? Optimistic? On the fence? Filled with dread?

...I meant to tell you guys about one of our trick-or-treaters Friday night.

I opened up the door at one point to a group of kids. The first couple were probably 8-10 years old, wearing whatever costumes--I didn't notice. Then I scanned over to the left, and noticed they'd brought their older brother.

The kid was probably 15 years old and dressed as a Spartan, in a red cloak and sandals. He was bare-chested...and homeboy worked out. I am simply vulnerable to the male pectoral muscle, and a perfectly satisfactory example of such was standing on my doorstep with his younger siblings.

And his mother.

I have never felt like such a degenerate, dirty ol' lady. I hope to God that she didn't notice my eyeballs bugging out of my head...and my desperate effort at pulling them away. The shame...

Well, it's my birthday. It's been a really great day. Matt and Freya worked hard to make it special for me, and I thought I'd share some of the details with you all. A few months back, Matt and I went to Boise's Art in the Park event, and I was doing my annual drool over one of my favorite photographs. It's a picture of a monk in China, and he's standing heaven knows how high over an enormous gorge, on a narrow wooden pathway bolted precariously into enormous rocks. He has the most wonderful, peaceful smile on his face as he teeters over the precipice--his toes actually stick out over the gorge. The look he wears is a reminder that we find peace in ourselves. The photographer is King Wu (go take a look--you'll be glad you did).

So Matt said, "I think you need that for your birthday," and he bought the print. He hid it from me, then took it to be framed. I took a photo of it as it hangs in our room now, and you can't see much of the details. Go to the website.

And then my dad came over, and he beat the odds by actually remembering my birthday. (He misses it every couple of years.) He brought me a sweater. In keeping with his tradition, he got me something that doesn't quite appeal to my tastes, but he liked it awfully well. What do you all think? Sparkly, isn't it?

Yikes...

And then, perhaps the best of all (and I'm not just saying that because they learned today that I have a blog and they're now going to read it), I got to go hang out with my girlfriends for lunch and shopping! Let me tell you, Internet, they are dying to have me tell you about them. I think they also want to be given different names to protect their innocence. After lunch, we loaded up and went to Sierra Trading Post, where my friend Daisy (wink, wink) bought some of the craziest damned shoes you ever saw. You can't quite tell it from the picture, but the soles on these things are sort of rounded so that you get a rocking sensation as you walk along. They're supposed to be great for fitness walking, and Daisy says that we'll quit laughing after she's lost her whole ass from walking in them.

Tragically, my own shopper was broken, and I was unable to find shoes that spoke to me. I hate it when I go somewhere with every intention of buying expensive shoes and then can't find any I want. I just hate that.

So anyway, Daisy, Dolores and Abigail and I had a great time, sexually harassed a bartender, and gently stimulated the economy. Thanks for hanging with me, girls.