i think about the dirt that i'll be wearing for a shirt**

I didn't really intend to write this down, but ever since I read Maggie's list of scenes she hopes to see when her life flashes before her eyes, I've been thinking of my own and it seems like something worth remembering. So, in no particular order...

1. Getting drunk-ish for the first time on warm red wine in a European beer garden
2. Skinny dipping in the lake in Wolfboro beneath the starriest sky I've ever seen
3. Being blessed by the priest at H & K's wedding
4. Taking Puddles home from the animal shelter
5. Standing on the corner outside Ben's Chili Bowl with J. after the first time we met
6. Banging the hell out of a cowbell at one particular freezing football game
7. Looking at an inchworm in front of glass doors at nursery school, my earliest memory
8. Staring out at the view from the top of Mohunk (after being rescued by Robert, after being sure I would die getting up there)
9. Riding a bike for the first time
10. Sitting on the floor at the first pre-Thanksgiving
11. Opening the door to see my friends behind it on my 30th birthday
12. Watching my parents dance at... wow, I don't remember where that was, actually, but I can picture the room vividly
13. Walking up the stairs at the Vienna Opera House
14. Watching snow fall out my apartment window in Jerusalem
15. Seeing my name in the acknowledgements of a friend's published book
16. Playing the final note of Beethoven's 5th with full orchestra and chorus
17. Kayaking in the Bay of Fundy
18. Lying on the bed in Nanny's house watching Christmas specials with A. and A.
19. Recording a fake radio show with J.'s 45s in her living room
20. Lying in the street in the middle of the night to watch the meteor shower
21. Playing Careers and eating pumpkin bread on Thanksgiving with S.

**"I Hope That I Get Old Before I Die," a They Might Be Giants song that I memorized in, oh, 1992? And I still find it hiliarious. My other favorite lines: "Clear off the kitchen table, darlin'/For on the kitchen table I must lie/I'm just tired 'cause my wife just served the banquet of my life/And I hope that I get old before I die."

a scientific study

How do you pronounce n-i-c-h-e?

a) nitch

b) neetch

c) neesh

d) nish

e) we aren't French! speak Amurrrrcan!

all you need are goats

Just an excuse for another goat picture? No, the explanation of the nicest Valentine's Day present ever: a sixth of a goat from Heifer International. J and I are officially on the books as not celebrating this Hallmarkian travesty, but somehow each of us winds up doing a little something or other. His something or other was cute and perfect. Mine was boxers with giant hearts and a snarky card about George Bush reading your email. Not quite as touching.

(Side note: The Year of the Goat had a pretty profound impact on the way I have been thinking about life and its possibilities, in addition to the pretty profound impact it had on the way I have been thinking about goat cheese.)

I am so looking forward to this three-day weekend: errands and Eastern Market with a friend this morning, new Netflix tonight while finishing knitting a sock that is taking foreeeeeever (I'm going to let myself do a different project before starting the second one), extensive mimosa-ed brunch tomorrow with the roommates, trip to the National Gallery (lookin' at you, No. 7) in the afternoon, no plans whatsoever on Monday. Yay for Abe Lincoln and all the other good guys.

water landings

At the risk of being all Seinfeld, here, what is up with flight-safety videos? As in, the fact that no one watches them? The planes US Air flies to Syracuse are usually pretty small, but last night, for some reason, it was a real live plane with three seats on each side of the aisle -- much to my relief, because it meant my suitcase would actually fit in the overhead thingie even though I was one of the last people to board.

Normally, on the regular wee planes, the real live flight attendant does the little song and dance with the belt buckle and whatnot. But the big grown-up plane had the special screens that deploy to show you the safety video. I realized halfway through that I wasn't paying attention -- furthermore, I never pay attention to those. Ever. It's white noise: "plane loses pressure... seat cushion... flotation device... help yourself before the person next to you... oxygen... zzzzzzzz."

Last night, I looked around, and not one single other person I could see was actually watching the video, including the dude next to me who would go on to watch the silent infomercial about Hawaii they played for the rest of the flight with shockingly rapt attention. (Hawaii trivia I learned: The state is made up of 137 islands!)

It seems to me like this says something profound about humans' sense of denial. That couldn't happen to me. Even though that information could save my life, it isn't relevant enough for me to stop reading an essay about Bill Clinton in order to pay attention for 30 seconds. Weird, right? Like, life-saving information-- ooh, look out the window, shiny!

progress report

Many of the 30 for 30 goals down and many still to go. Specifically, 16 and 1/3 and 7/10 and 3/5 and 2/3 and 2/3 still to go. Some recent developments...

No. 8:


A sweater for T and J's baby. It's knitted from the hood down and was an immensely satisfying project the whole way through.


Detail shot. I wasn't sure about the color combination when I first started, because my large stash of cotton offers a lot of choices and I was a little overwhemled by them. But I think it worked out OK; reminiscent of Charlie Brown without dooming the poor child to a life of having footballs pulled away right before he kicks them.

No. 26:


This guy started out 2007 looking like this...

...and ended it like this:

There were a few uncomfortable moments (for me; for our pal the lobster, I would like to think it was just one brief but very very uncomfortable moment) but overall, this was not as hard as I thought.

And finally, three and four for No. 18:


In J's lab.


Amazing glass sculpture (called Woven Heaven, Tangled Earth, by Susan Plum) at the fantastic Corning Glass Museum.

three years and counting

Third time’s the charm!

1. What did you do in 2007 that you'd never done before?

Flew in a teeny tiny plane piloted by a friend. Edited an entire book (freelance, not my own). Took long bike rides without a safety net. Went parasailing. Milked a goat. Became an avid comsumer of mussels.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I actually have been referring to my 30 for 30 list instead of doing the resolution thing, so I plan to keep doing that until 10/17/08. Please note that although several of them have been crossed off the list, all the freaking hard ones -- seriously, 30 miles on a bike, what the hell was I thinking -- are still left.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes! Several people, actually.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, knock on everything.

5. What countries did you visit?

The Netherlands, Austria, Germany, the Czech Republic. And New Mexico, which sort of felt like a different country.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?

More self-discipline (just like 2005 and 2006! that one is probably a permanent resident of this list). More focus. The ability to do a handstand. A new iPod.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

My birthday, once again the date of the greatest surprise party ever. Not a specific date, but the writing group evening that P. showed us her first book.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Giving J a pretty great birthday surprise, if I do say so myself.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not committing more time to writing and not having the guts to do NaNoWriMo.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I had food poisoning for the first time ever; otherwise, no.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Plane tickets.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Why is it that I can never come up with anything for this question? I can’t think of a single person who did something awesome?

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

If I can’t come up with anything for this one either, does it balance out?

14. Where did most of your money go?

Into a six-month CD, which is scaring the crap out of me because it seems like I just wrote a check and threw it into the ether, and the ether cashed it, and then the money evaporated and ceased to exist. Oh, and to my landlord, restaurants, airlines, the overpriced gym that I now hardly ever go to because I am busy giving more of my money to yoga and African dance classes.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The final Harry Potter book.

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?

Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab.”

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? both, sometimes. also nervous-er, most of the time.
b) thinner or fatter? gr
c) richer or poorer? richer, a wee bit

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Writing. Exercising. Spending time with my grandmother.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Worrying -- third year in a row and probably forever! Downloading TV shows from iTunes.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

I was in Ithaca with J. We cooked dinner and watched The Queen from Netflix. Yay for Jews on Christmas!

*(editing starts here)*

23. What was your favorite TV program?

The Wire. And Top Chef.

25. What was the best book you read?

According to Good Reads, my five-star books were Kate Atkinson’s “Case Histories,” Thomas Cahill’s “The Gifts of the Jews” and Yael Hedaya’s “Housebroken.” Edna O’Brien’s “The Country Girls” has also really stayed with me.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Probably Dawn Landes. Thanks, Reuben.

27. What did you want and get?

A relationship that’s continuing to grow despite the distance.

28. What did you want and not get?

Smaller pants.

29. What was your favorite film of this year?

Superbad!

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

30, and I had a surprise party, as documented here.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

A published book with my name on the cover. And as with last year, going a whole year with no cavities would have been immeasurably satisfying -- although I got closer this time. Just one little one in the back.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?

Inexpensive? I didn’t get many new clothes this year.

33. What kept you sane?

You know who you are.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

After seeing “Charlie Wilson’s War” last night, my Philip Seymour Hoffman crush is again in full swing.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.

Define “learned.” This is something I wanted to learn, but am not sure I have quite mastered yet: Everything is temporary, so stop freaking out, for heaven’s sake.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

"When you move into motion, the Atlantic Ocean cannot compare
My heart's out there, but I don't care, I'll throw it anywhere
We all hold on, but when we go, we'll be gone..."

cookies are an all-the-time food

Many a well-meaning... well-meaner has said, semi-helpfully, "You THINK you like Ithaca, but wait until you see it in the winter!" And then laughed a knowing har-har and flicked a glance of pure evil over their shoulders as they swished their swishy capes and swished off to make more dire predictions.

Well, I'm here to tell you: It is 4:19 p.m. on my first full day here. It is as dark as midnight. I am in J's apartment, sitting at his desk in the circle of light from one little lamp. I took a shower two hours ago and I'm trying to motivate myself to stop eating oatmeal cookies (note to Shannon: are these the best cookies ever or what) and leave the apartment for the first time today.

But did I mention it is dark? And also that it is raining -- RAINING, because NPR tells me it is 47 degrees outside, and what is up with this rain, it is supposed to SNOW here because it is supposed to be COLD. Not that I would really be appreciating the coldness, however, given the aforementioned inability to leave the apartment.
I think we're heading for the movies tomorrow night for the third year of our "we're Jewish! let's go to the movies on Christmas Eve!" tradition, and I'm only semi-determined to have gone outside before then.

This darkness thing -- yeah, it's a little harder to love than the Ithaca summer with its farmers' market and its pretty waterfalls and its hippies in their sundresses. But you know what is also hard to love? DC in August. Or July, or September. So I'm reserving judgement; check back in 11 days for the final verdict.

over the river and through the... crafts...

(Through the crafts? What the hell? That song has been stuck in my head all day for no discernable reason. I would like to discern one now, please, and make it go away.)

Anyway, crafts, yes. I discovered Craftster this week, and I am so completely hooked. I want to make everything, EVERYTHING, on that site, including embroidered pillowcases. I have two embroidered pillowcases that my parents got as a wedding gift that I adore. I mean, look at this. How creative and arty is that, and how much fun would it be to make it? Despite the fact that I never like fussy projects, and a project involving tiny needles making tiny stitches in tiny patterns is probably fussier than anything I've ever tried?

The new Craftster fixation actually dovetails nicely with my existing Etsy fixation -- I can admire the stuff of alread-crafty people and then daydream about my own crafty things, like making sketchbooks out of recycled paper and a Luna Lovegood iron-on transfer. And I think it is only a matter of time until I give in and admit that I really want to learn to sew. And some mysterious day in the future, endless supplies of time and money will fall like manna from the heavens, and I will indulge all this stuff.

hallowhat?

It may be that Halloween only has a purpose if you either a) have adorable children who want to dress up in cute costumes or b) want to be a sexy nurse/cat/pirate/antelope/whatever and pick up similarly dressed strangers at bars. (In 2000 or 2001, I was hit on -- so my friends said, let me assure you that I didn't catch on -- by a very drunk man dressed as a very drunk nun at a bar on Halloween. Ah, good times.)

I actually forgot that the actual trick-or-treating portion of the holiday was yesterday until I saw one of my coworkers wearing a psychotic red wig. I ate two mini-KitKats. I went to yoga. We had a handful of trick-or-treaters. It was anticlimatic. But recovery starts now: I'm going to bake these to make up for it. And... yes, that's it, but they sound really delicious...

30 for 30 (goats)

Too bad I didn't make one of my goals to take 30 photos of goats, or else I'd totally be there:


I promise, I'm done now.

so many people in my suitcase heart

I've been told -- and it makes sense -- that your 30s are so much better your 20s; you're more settled, more stable, you have a clearer idea of what you want even if you're not sure exactly how to go about getting it. You're more grounded. You know how to deal with yourself better. I'm not sure if any of that is true yet, but it makes sense, and it holds true for my early 20s vs. my late 20s. And at the risk of tempting fate: So far, 30 is so, so good.

I spent the last hour trying to figure out how to express how wonderful my 30th birthday has been. Fancy brunch and a musical with my family; a weekend trip to Charleston with J.; an incredible and thoughtful and amazing surprise party; another surprise trip still to come next weekend. Words aren't cutting it.

A birthday's not a birthday without a goat.

Or hanging moss.

Or parasailing (photo by J.)

Or sunsets on Folly Beach.

Or giant Dora balloons.

But without being able to show you the faces of the people who made everything this way, I can't even begin to explain what they mean to me and how loved they've made me feel in the last few weeks. So I apologize: These limp words fall so far short of what I want to say.

This pig wants you to know he's happy too, and also thankful for the corn and stuff.

it's a great big universe...

... and we're all really puny, in the immortal words of the Animaniacs, but donating to this actually made me feel like I was part of something pretty huge and pretty great. And this kind of brought tears to my eyes. And the list of prizes kind of made me drool. (Have you seen the Embittermints? Ha.)

fall stories

Pretty lake in New York, near where J. and I went camping this weekend. It was fun and lovely and cold, but not too cold.

Pre-camping, we went to Storm King, which is an amazing outdoor sculpture museum. For scale, I am sitting at the base of that sculpture. Big, yes?

Post-camping, we went to Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome. Also amazing. For scale, that is a tiny plane very far up in the sky. Small, no?

And, for the opening 30 for 30 goal, we have the first entry for #18. Behold, rust:

how to fix an american quilt

My bed, with new Ikea bedspread. Not pictured: the quilt in question.

Slowly, apparently. I took my favorite quilt -- the one Angie's grandmother made -- to a cute little quilt shop staffed by cute little women. Some of the squares need to be replaced, but the binding and backing are OK, so shouldn't be a big deal.

Like all the other idiots in the world, though, I stuck the quilt in my closet in April, when it got warm, and left it there until the first cold night last week. All the other idiots and I think, "Hey, time to fix the quilts!"

End result: I'm waiting two weeks just for an estimate, and then probably until Christmas to get my repaired quilt back. I will be a cold, cold idiot until then.

In the spirit of... something to do with that story, I'm thinking about a little "30 for 30" plan -- 30 goals for my 30th year. (Technically my 31st year, but the year after my 30th birthday, whatever.) So far I have stuff like "knit one item that is not a blanket, hat or scarf" and "go for a 15-mile bike ride." I'm looking for self-contained, definitively achievable things, like items you can put a date on and say you've completed, not big things like "set more goals" (ha) or "don't be an idiot." Suggestions?

why god invented the internet

Blogs and online dating and all the Doonesbury comics you want... great, fine. But the Internet's one real true purpose is to share things like this and this.

the farms that made it through the last days of the century

So, my visit to the New York State Fair really, really, really made me want a goat or two or seventeen. Did you know goats don't really eat tin cans, contrary to my very extensive previous knowledge of goats? It consisted of a children's book I had when I was little, and I thought it was a reliable source, but apparently not. Goats are actually very particular eaters; they might LICK tin cans for the salt and what have you, but they would never actually eat one.

I would like a goat, please and thank you. But they are social animals and do not thrive alone, so I actually need two. Or, you know, seventeen.

OK, that's all.

(Speaking of the end of the summer, did this photo ever give me a lump in my throat. I just saw her yesterday, and we drew pictures and played games and read books and it was just like it usually is... but already with that backpack she looks so grown up, and I remember her when she was a tiny newborn, and oh my gosh.)

medium rare, with a side of condescension and some idiot sauce on top

"I mean, a woman who is really enjoying life, who doesn't withhold anything from herself, a woman who recognizes what she wants and takes it? To quote Posh, that's major. But the assumption that women are only trading one feeble attempt at attracting men (deprivation in order to be or stay thin) for another one (circumventing former vegetarianism in order to get a date) is just fucking sexist bullshit."

I have long had a blog-crush on Weetabix, and this post from her paid gig at Elastic Waist made me love her even more. It's based on a stupid, stupid, stupid article from the New York Times that I'd seen on my own last week and quietly fumed about, because it's all about women overthinking everything and contorting themselves in yet another way to make themselves attractive to men, and men judging women on some ridiculous crap that means nothing, and women doing a right-back-atcha move on the men. (The walkaway quote in this story made me want to stab myself in the eye. I was thisclose to getting away with feeling all superior about how no self-respecting woman would ever judge a man that way, and then... yeah. Thanks, Brice, freelance design writer.)

The way the article was written infuriated me too. And the Internet dating angle. And that weird undertone about sex that's in there also, about what women want and how they get it, and aarghghgh I'm so irritated. This has totally, like, harshed my Wednesday-night post-yoga buzz, man. Read this.

remember when he burned his hand?

I just finished reading Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously. The author embarks on a project to cook all of the recipes in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year; she's funny and likeable and a bit of a disaster, and reminds me enough of Elizabeth Gilbert (whom Julie apparently knows and thanks in the acknowledgements) that I wonder if they've started a new genre: self-deprecating memoirs of entirely relatable people taking on some kind of structured project to help them through a rough time.

She's probably someone I would like in real life anyway, and then I found her Powell's interview. When asked which fictional character she would like to date, she comes up with... Johnny Tremain. Ha. What a great answer. I think my sixth-grade self would have totally backed her up on that one.

count the verbs: an interactive text adventure*

I rue the day I accepted this project. I rue, I ruefully rue.

I'm rueing and rueing, and I'm waiting for the next episode of Top Chef to download from my iTunes account (more procrastinating! see, still looking at the screen! it counts!). I'm thinking about what to have for dinner. I'm feeling chilly and over-air-conditioned. I'm wishing two weeks would go by faster and I'm liking this quote:

Grace is when something is more beautiful than we deserve, more elegant and lovely than it should be.

-Ayelet Waldman

*You can count "rue" as many times as you want. Like, 45 billion times. There aren't enough numbers in the world to truly express all the rueing I'm doing.

hiatus from the hiatus

Suddenly, I sort of miss blogging. I believe this attack has been brought on by a massive freelance project I have stupidly undertaken... it is so truly massive, so overwhelmingly time-consuming, that I am desperately casting about for something that lets me tell myself I'm working (i.e., facing a computer) but can use to sneak furtive breaks in the actual work. Plus maybe I missed you.

I will add the link list soon, I know you are waiting with bated breath. Be back in a flash.