Tag Archives: life

unpacking/packing.

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The word “unpacking” gets used frequently in academic conversations: we “unpack” complex concepts, fraught words, and ideas or moments with contested meanings. I’m done with that kind of unpacking, at least for a little while. (Hooray!) Which means it is time to pack.

I considered only showing you this picture. Look — a laundry bag full of delicious, neutral shades of Cascade 220! This picture suggests a calm, orderly apartment (and packing process), everything under control. Here’s what the rest of the room looks like:

Yup. It is hard to pack up a small apartment. Boh is handling the disruption with dignity. I’m hoping to take a few carloads over tomorrow so that I’ll have enough space to pack up the rest of my stuff as the week progresses. Keys — and pictures (and knitting, I promise) — soon!

stay classy, san diego.

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I may have attended a screening of Anchorman yesterday afternoon.

In all seriousness, though, Ron Burgundy’s words seem to have relevance beyond newsrooms and street-fights between rival news teams. Ethel Louise has an incredibly thoughtful post about yesterday’s response to the assassination of OBL. I know I don’t talk about my work very often here, but in a very broad sense, I am interested in narrative, in how we tell stories about what is happening/what has happened to us, in how we make (and remake) meaning. I, too, found yesterday’s celebrations disturbing.

I have a lot more to say about all of that — but I just don’t have the energy this week. I brought a bunch of boxes and bins up from the basement over the weekend to remind myself that I am almost there. I’m feeling tired and overwhelmed, and I just need to keep going. My orals are on Friday, and I just need to get there, and for my performance to be enough.

umbrella, -ella, -ella.

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I have no idea what Boh was thinking — except that it must have had something to do with that Rihanna song from a few years ago. To this day, when I hear it, I think of a friend of mine who made it his goal of the summer of 2007 to turn that into a campfire song. I love my silly dog.

The good news? Yesterday I needed the umbrella (-ella, -ella), but today I was in flip-flops! I knit these legwarmers back in 2007, and I wear them all the time — to yoga, when I get out of bed in the morning, when I just need a little extra warmth. They might get more use than all of my other knitwear combined, come to think of it.

Also, I turned in exam #2 this morning! One to go. I’m taking the night off.

overwhelmed.

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I’ve certainly been feeling the less-than-awesome kind of overwhelmed this week. Which is why I’m pretty psyched to get to share (another) example of the good kind of overwhelmed.

This delicious Fine and Raw almond chunky chocolate bar arrived in a box of fibery treats from dear knithound. I sat down at the kitchen table and savored it. (And then thought you might to at least see the wrapper. This stuff is incredible!)

Along with that chocolate (which I’m not sure if I should describe as heavenly or sinful), knithound sent me three special bundles of undyed luxury fiber: an ounce of merino/cashmere, an ounce of oatmeal cashmere, and an ounce of a yak/tussah silk blend, all from The Yarn Tree. I keep opening the bags to pet them.

You may have noticed that I haven’t really been spending much time at the wheel lately — there’s just so much to do. But these — these might be just the right amount for a small break, time to decompress, or work through an idea. I might even dig out a drop spindle for one of these fiber bumps.

Thank you, knithound, for this overwhelming (in the good way) box of luxury. And thanks to all of blogland for your kindness and comments on what it means to grow older and to reflect on experiences and expectations these last few weeks.

competitive paint-by-number.

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That’s right. Last night I attended the first annual [alcohol-fueled] paint-by-number competition. I already can’t wait for next year. A colleague of mine in the department came up with this incredible idea, and, inspired by the problematic and inappropriate depiction of a native woman (complete with spirit eagle, wolf, etc.) in this kit, planned a competition between two teams: Pocahontas and John Smith, with the prize (of course) of a map of the state of Virginia, as well as bragging rights associated with having the winning creation hung in the office of said colleague, who shares her office with a friend (also present last night) who works on issues of race and gender, and the representation of native women in early America. If we can’t eliminate these representations, I guess we might as well do the paint-by-number…

First of all, this was way more complicated than the paint-by-number kits I remember. This involved 18 colors, as well as mixing colors 1-18 to create shades labeled A through X.

Yours truly, working on the spirit eagle’s wings.

Here you can see a bit more of the “competition.” Timed, side-by-side painting for each color, complete with painter’s smocks and penalty drinks for the painter to complete less of his/her color. (Ginger beer for me, as I was driving.)

Team Pocahontas’ creation: in a re-writing of history we all could appreciate, they won Virginia. (And continued to paint, filling in missed areas from earlier rounds to finish off their masterpiece.)

Everyone brought deliciousness: homemade bread*, tater-tot hot dish, peanut-butter cookies, and our host made pasta with broccoli raab and fancy mixed drinks. I brought my mom’s artichoke dip. Despite the competition, it was a laid-back, relaxed night of mostly history-department folks, and a chance to be a little silly among friends.

*Delicious bread — and all of the photos in this post — supplied by my dear friend K.

twenty-nine.

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Yesterday I turned twenty-nine. I’ve been thinking about this birthday a lot, and trying to come to terms with where I am in my life right now, versus where I might have loosely imagined I’d be when I turned twenty. I remember feeling anxious about twenty. I had just decided not to become a doctor, and so many things were unknown. It was exciting, but scary, too. And twenty, well, twenty marked the beginning of what then seemed like the decade that would determine so much of what my life would be: graduation, the start of a career, a family? The idea that this would be the decade for all of those things weighed heavily on me.

And now? Well, I have to admit, I thought I was beyond thinking about these kinds of expectations for myself, but this birthday has brought a lot of those thoughts back. Intellectually, I am quite comfortable saying out loud that I am happy with the decisions I’ve made, and the unexpected places they’ve taken me. Emotionally, though, I think it is okay to acknowledge that maybe I’m not where I thought I’d be at twenty-nine, at least in the non-academic parts of my life, and that I’m a little bit sad about that. And that’s okay. I no longer feel like my twenties will determine my future, and I have a much stronger sense of myself than I did at twenty.

So Boh and I celebrated quietly yesterday, with an extra-long frolic in the snow, and dumplings. This is the kind of meal I rarely prepare for myself — it is a lot of work for just me. But yesterday, I decided that I would give myself extra time in the kitchen, instead of putting something to simmer on the stove so that I could continue to read. (And I’ve got leftovers for tonight.) I’m sure I’ll do some celebrating with friends this weekend, but yesterday was what I needed. I crossed some things off of my to-do list, indulged a bit in the kitchen and outside, and knit a few more rows on my terra shawl.

Here’s to twenty-nine.

february?

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Whoa. This week totally got away from me. Last night I realized that I haven’t blogged since Tuesday! Consider today’s post a rather disjointed “show and tell” from the week.

Tuesday’s outfit, ready for dog-walking. (I love my Sorels — perfect for frolicking in snowbanks and walking through slush-puddles.)

Quick, warm, hearty lunch: sauteed mushrooms simmered in homemade tomato puree, pasta. I might have accidentally eaten the whole bowl. Sometimes it is hard to shake that “big spoon” mentality — I have to remind myself that I’m not camping, and that leftovers are not just allowed, but desirable! (Big spoon is where everybody takes another spoonful, and another, until it is gone. With a group, it isn’t that hard, and that way there is nothing to pack out — and you can do the dishes.)

A homemade treat from my friend M. She’s already finished with her comprehensive exams. Isn’t it beautiful? I can’t wait to try this pear-honey wine (also known as liquid encouragement).

No handknits in this picture, but one of those accidental outfits that somehow made it out the door. I like all the pinks and purples.

Mushrooms and komatsuna sauteed in a balsamic vinaigrette. I ate this over fresh spinach from the farm. A winter treat, to be sure.

Friday night. late. A hot toddy to keep me company while taking notes. So good.

Parsnip soup (with maple syrup and mustard) in a favorite mug. Baby-shower knitting. And reading. The shower is today, so I’ll post less cryptic pictures soon!

rooster can haz lake house.

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Or will, come June. (Photo courtesy of the anonymized posting on craigslist.) This means a few things: first, this rooster hereby declares that she will be so good about being frugal and thrifty this spring because come summer, she will want to furnish and paint a space that is about twice the size of her current home; second, I’m going to have a guest room/yarn room! (And an office!) But most awesome of all, I’m going to have a three-season porch.

I know you’ll all miss my bright green kitchen walls, so I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures in there between now and June.

(This picture also courtesy of the anonymized craigslist posting.)

The house became a possibility on Wednesday, and I signed a sublease on Friday. Still pinching myself. I’ve been so distracted by hoping all the pieces would fall into place that I’ve been the opposite of productive…but I’m okay with that.

I’ve gotten back on that horse today, with something wonderful to look forward to.

on the walls of the day.

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I made my list, and hung it on the fridge. It’s a mixture of goals and reminders, things to work on this semester. (And yes, that does say “finish sweaters on the needles.”) A favorite song from a few years ago, when I was driving east to start grad school, came up on shuffle yesterday — “Challengers,” by The New Pornographers:

on the walls of the day

in the shade of the sun we wrote down

another vision of us

we were the challengers of the unknown

A good song for the start of a new year, no?