31 Today(ish)

My birthday was last week. Going strictly by the numbers, this depressing song should have been my birthday theme song:


But, as much as I dig Aimee Mann and her rad 'Til Tuesday hair, I'm way more into this song right now (also forever, perhaps not incidentally):


The day of my birthday, I took the day off of work, had a couple glasses of bubbly, and spent the day in my pjs in my beautiful house with a sleeping puppy in my lap. I made homemade cheez-its and blood orange sherbet, and threw some kale in the slow-cooker. In the evening I had pizza, watched a movie, and snuggled with my beloved/partner in crime.

So, you know, life is going pretty okay.

I meant to do this when I turned thirty but obviously didn't:

Things I have learned in the last 3(1) years

- Wool socks. November through March. Nonstop. Especially at bedtime.
- Having a lot of feelings about a friendship is not the same as being a good friend.
- Drama =/= Import. In fact, more often than not, it's the opposite.
- Taking care of others who are having a tougher time than I am can be an admirable and valuable thing to do. It can also be a way of ignoring my own problems and creating false self-esteem based on external comparisons rather than internal truth.
- Smarts, like other "inherited" traits, don't mean much unless they're in use. Accordingly, compliments about actions can be much more constructive than compliments about states of being (though really, all compliments are good compliments, and I will never stop wanting more).
- I am a pretty decent dancer, singer, and writer. I am good at organizing things and making plans, but not always great at follow-through. I am fundamentally wired for language, and not just in the normal human way. Thinking creatively in numbers or 3-D space is not my strongest suit, but I am perfectly functional in those departments for the purposes of my life and work. I am not awesome at drawing but I like to do it and should do it more.
- The older I get, the more important rhythm is in my musical choices (as compared w/ lyrics & melody).
- Aging in general has meant for me a narrowing in some ways, and a broadening in others: I focus on fewer things, but I focus on them more intently and more consciously.
- Having thoughtful, specific life routines solves a lot more problems than my teenage self would have imagined.
- I will always struggle with personal and social anxiety, and residual obnoxious-teenage-girl low self esteem. But I've come a long long way (through the hard times and the good).
- Tying my self-worth too closely to a job is a recipe for eventually hating both.
- 95% of the time when people complain, they don't want constructive advice - just sympathy. This knowledge will probably never prevent me from wanting to give advice anyway. (see "taking care of others," above.)
- I'm never going to like the act of cooking itself, even if I like the results. And that's okay.
- In cooking as in life, I am usually my own worst critic.
- Dresses are the best articles of clothing.
- People who are personally offended by the fashion choices of others are truly obnoxious. (If you don't like dresses, I am not personally offended. You do you!)
- I am a Feminist with a capital F. I reserve the right to be offended by people who aren't feminists (but not uniformly, since there is a lot of misinformation about feminism floating around, and punishing people for ignorance is, well, ignorant).
- Pee after sex. Every time.
- Light sleeper? USE EARPLUGS. (Can't believe how long this one took me.)
- I only like to hydrate via hot water or, on very very hot days, ice cubes.
- The ways in which I've been lucky in my life - from my family to my friends to my loves to my general life circumstances - are ongoing and endless. To be anything but grateful would be downright stupid.

Thanks all.

High Spirits/Old Nonsense

Well it's that time again. (Actually it's . . . a month and a half late? I actually wrote this on time but then waited to post it until I had pictures. Which I still don't have. Oh well.)

In 2012, I . . .

Bought and moved into a house
Moved forward in earnest on getting a dog
Ate well, if not always wisely
Transitioned to a new position at work that is more interesting and more challenging
Went to Hawaii!
Road tripped through Tennessee
Traveled to WVA, Pittsburgh, Vegas, and San Fran (x 2)
Turned 30
Drank
Saw some good plays
Read not enough books (seriously a shamefully low number, in the 20s, some kind of lit fan I am)
Watched a LOT of movies, good and bad
Saw some great shows
Celebrated 6 years together with E
Dyed my hair pink
Hit my all-time highest weight (yeesh)
Dabbled in biking to work


Resolutions from last year that I more or less accomplished:

Read more in general (Still far behind the curve but could be doing worse. Book club love!)
Record my dreams more frequently (Hurrah! Lucid dreaming, you are my bitch. Sometimes.)
Write in private journal more (Hurrah! The trick is: Google Drive.)
Move to a bigger place, preferably one we own, preferably with a yard (Hurrah! The yard is not big but it is fenced. The house is pretty big for what we need and it is pretty nice except for when the jerk basement leaks. You should come visit!)
Get a dog (Okay we're only 90% of the way there but that's an A in most school districts.)
Floss (Hurrah! The trick is: Read a magazine while flossing.)
Drink more water (Hurrah! The trick is: it must be hot. Hello, nice to meet you, I am your asian/jewish grandmother.)

Resolutions from last year that I didn't quite get to:

Read Ulysses (I did get a copy of the book! Let's call that half credit - which is still an F. Try, try again.)
Meditate more/take a meditation class (Try, try again.)
Blog more regularly, if not more frequently (Try, try again.)
Improve aerobic fitness (Started strong but then made up for it with a long slide. Try, try again.)
Find & go to a new dentist (Okay I bailed on the dentist like an idiot but I DID floss a lot more, see above)
Beat Portal 1 and 2 (Try, try again)


And then there were the monthly projects. 

I will rate these on Nathan Rabin's My Year of Flops scale of Failure, Fiasco or Secret Success (in this case the successes are secret because the gains/lessons learned tended to kinda evaporate in the ensuing months).

January	Veganism	Secret Success	Veganism wasn't that bad. And I have mostly stuck to only eating meat whose origins I know and approve of. With the occasional exception of Popeyes. GOD I LOVE POPEYES SO MUCH.
February	Meditation	Failure	Sigh.
March	30 Day Shred	Secret Success	Felt slightly more shredded for a little while. Tortured the downstairs neighbors only a little bit.
April	Running	Secret Success	Two 5Ks down! (3 if you count the Color Run). Could be better but could be worse! New crunching noise from knee: slightly worrisome.
May	Moving?	Secret Success/   Total Cop-Out	Well it happened but it's not so much a project really as an all-consuming life event. Let's never do that again.
June	No TV	Secret Success	TV I hate you. No, I love you. Come back.
July	No Social Networking	Secret Success	Listen, I am never going to be Good At Twitter.
August	Um, Nothing?	Failure	Siiiiiiiiigh.
September	Daily Journaling	Fiasco	Made it four days.
October	Rocktober	Fiasco	Completed 1 out of 5 concert reviews. Posted zero monthly mixes. Guitar unobtained.
November	Nothing, Part 2: Revenge of the Unmotivated and Disorganized	Failure	November was really busy, okay? Or something?
December	750 Words	Fiasco	Didn't even make it past Day 1.

So, what do I learn from this evaluation? I am terrible at writing-based projects. I always think that putting deadlines and pressure on myself will make me write more. In an academic context that does work for me, but when it comes to recreational writing the pressure to produce just makes me writing-averse and then guilty. No more specific writing projects! Write when I feel inspired, and when I have time. Write more when I have more inspiration and time, and don't beat myself up when I have less.

On the other hand, I am pretty okay at externally-oriented projects such as those related to exercise, eating, and media consumption. And I occasionally even get some long-term use out of those experiments. So, while I don't have any new ones queued up for 2013, I am not opposed to them in general. Hitting the reset button every now and then on a specific behavior is not a terrible thing, if it moves me slightly toward a general goal.


In 2013 I'd like to . . .

Train our dog not to be a jerk
Take E to Europe
Blog and journal when I want to
Manage my workload at my job
Eat dinner at the dinner table (not in front of the TV)
Actually finish a few crafts
Go swimming at the Rec Center
Reach out more to friends and to acquaintances who I'd like to be friends
Contemplate the possibility of non-dog dependents
Read Ulysses
Beat Portal 1 & 2
Love my body the way it is, and make it stronger in the ways I can
Keep working on my little daily life rituals (making the bed, bedtimes, dishes, etc.)
Wear contacts more
Develop some legitimate opinions about wine
Get some tall black boots
Groundhog Day at Punxsutawney!

Frame this quote for my wall:

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely, and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. 

~ James Elliot Cabot, quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson

Concert Review: David Byrne & St. Vincent

Brass, black and white . . . oh, and a theramin fight.

I kept my expectations low going into the David Byrne & St. Vincent concert on Sept. 30th at the Strathmore in Rockville. I like St. Vincent (aka Annie Clark) a lot and I LOVE David Byrne - they're some of the most charming and challenging popular musicians touring today. But I wondered if their shared love of the cerebral and the abstract would result in an alienating experience. Would their different wavelengths of near-twee be harmonic or dissonant? Would their attraction to the grotesque be sublimated to their capacity for musical joy, or would it be a force multiplier?

Listening to "Love This Giant," the collaboration that spawned this tour, only partially answered these questions. The album is not my favorite Byrne collaboration: that status goes to his most recent work with Brian Eno, "Everything That Happens Will Happen Today." And his recent collaboration with Fatboy Slim, "Here Lies Love," a strangely upbeat concept album about Imelda Marcos (of all things), is arguably more lyrically consistent. But "Giant" is consistent in artistic vision, sonically interesting, and rhythmically enjoyable. Unifying the noise-texture of St. Vincent and the rhythmic abstraction of Byrne, a well-used horn section keeps most tracks accessible and provides some musical narrative.


The same accessibility and narrative grounding came out in their live show. Walking into the auditorium, I was excited to find the unoccupied stage mottled with small spotlights, each illuminating a shiny brass instrument. Byrne and Clark took the stage with a 10-piece band, including trumpets, trombones, saxes, a french horn and a sousaphone. Dressed in black, the band lent visual as well as sonic impact: marching choreography kept them moving about the stage, sometimes snaking along in a slow parade, sometimes circling each other, sometimes pulling Byrne or Clark into their midst. At one point, everyone on stage lay down and played an entire song supine - no small feat for the sousaphone player.

Byrne and Clark themselves were fun and on their game, though they kept the banter to a minimum. Byrne kept his wardrobe simple with black pants and shirt, white suspenders and saddle shoes - all the better to amble about the stage and practice his abstract hand gestures. At age 60, his formerly self-conscious jerky dance moves are starting to soften into endearingly authentic old-man dancing. Clark wore a short iridescent dress, hair radiating out in every direction, bare legs ending in some formidable cage heels. Her primary dance was an exaggerated baby-doll tottering on said heels, which looked less creepy than it may sound. She jumped in on some of the hand gestures too.


The musical differences between Byrne & Clark are still fairly stark. As on the album, it was easy to distinguish the songs that Clark had spearheaded from the songs that were primarily Byrne's babies. She tends toward the ambient, and her songs meander more sonically and lyrically. He looks more to the bottom line: first person narrative, bass, and drums. In the Strathmore, their distinctions were made even more obvious by the differences in volume. Clark's songs swallowed the space, making me wish for earplugs despite sitting literally against the auditorium's back wall. Then, too, they both played a number of songs from individual projects - strains of "I don't wanna be a cheerleader no more" blasted at max volume still echo in my head, as do fond memories of dancing to "Burning Down the House."

Happily, Byrne & Clarke's individual visions gelled well enough in concert to provide a thoroughly cohesive experience. Cerebral and abstract, yes, but joyous and rhythmic too. And deliciously dorky! There was an actual theramin fight, and one song was dedicated to the Higgs Boson particle. You only have to have a very cursory knowlege of both artists' careers to know that such details are far from gimmicks. And you have to have even less to find the whole experience pretty darn enjoyable.

Rocktober

There's a distinct chill in the air this week. Hello fall! I look forward to your golden afternoon light and to wearing my puffy vest. I have eaten paw paw fruits and have stocked up on woolly tights. COME AT ME.

None of the pictures in this entry are germane to this entry.

October is also a good reminder that I haven't posted about my monthly "projects" (an increasingly loose term) since...July? Yeesh. I've been pretty busy of late between house maintenance, vacation, and social and cultural engagements of various types. Also, in my free time, super lazy.

To recap the monthly project situation:

July: No social networking month. This was actually pretty nice and my brain space expanded noticeably if not enormously. I abstained from Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter (the latter of which I rarely use anyway). I also cut way back on Google Reader, which is not social media itself in the same way as the others but does occupy some of the same brainspace.

Unfortunately, I was unable to hold onto the brain-benefits after the month was over and instead dove straight back into the blue, glowing arms of internet dependence. I'm not proud. On the other hand, I do learn a bit about the world from my digital wanderings so it's not a total loss. At the end of the month I took a few small measures to try to better curate what consumes my computer-energy. I hid the feeds of FB "friends" with whom I haven't had any contact in a few years, hid unread counts from my Google Reader so I can't get completionist-competitive with myself, and conveniently forgot about Twitter again. These tweaks have helped a little bit but it's still an uphill battle. Obviously the best way for me to manage internet dependence is to limit computer exposure overall and that is mostly related to how busy I am at work and at home.


August: I kinda forgot to have an intention or project in August - or I picked one and immediately abandoned it. I can't even remember. In practice, I could argue that August's project was biking, as it was in that most sweltering of months that I started cycling to work from our new house. I have a post nearly ready to go about what I learned as a dilettante urban biker. Happily, this is one practice that I've kept up, more or less, though I expect it to taper off in the next month or two as the morning weather slides from chilly to cold.

September: September was about as big a failure as February, project-wise. My intention was to journal privately each day of the month, because I clearly need more structure in my life, could use a bit more honest (i.e. non-audience-driven) self-reflection, and have a terrible memory. Plus, I went on an awesome trip with E and some friends and wanted to record it for posterity. Unfortunately, the whole venture lasted a remarkable 4 days before I missed a night of journaling while intoxicated in a hotel in Nashville, and abandoned the daily plan completely. I have yet to find a way to make the daily journal thing work in practice. I've tried writing on my computer, on my phone, and on paper; I've tried writing at night and writing when it's convenient. I always end up missing a day and/or falling asleep mid-entry. Still working on that one. I want to think that writing more regularly would mean writing less in each session, like with other maintenance-based vs. accomplishment-based activities. But on the other hand NEWSFLASH: I really like to write about myself. Thanks to a tip from a friend I might have a new idea up my sleeve but I'm still playing around with it so stay tuned.

And that fiiiiinally brings us to . . .

October: This months cop-out "project" will be: music. October is shaping up to be another busy one, with a main component being a pretty intense (for me) concert line-up. Technically this rash of autumn concerts started unexpectedly last week but it extends through the next few weekends and will surely keep me sleep-deprived and hearing-impaired for a few weeks after that.

9/24 Madonna at Verizon Center
9/30 David Byrne & St. Vincent at Strathmore Music Hall
10/6 Virgin FreeFest*
10/7 Frightened Rabbit at Black Cat
10/12 Jens Lekman at 9:30 Club
10/13 Dar Williams at Birchmere
TBD Others??? (Suggestions welcome!**)

And that's not accounting for the music-filled Tennessee adventure from September, which I have yet to post about. Overall, October's music-theme plan is to . . .

- Post a concert review of each show I attend
- Post my September and October playlists, and, if the spirit moves me, playlists from over the summer
- Sing in a chorus at some point during October (All Souls, I'm looking in your direction)
- Steal my dad's guitar again and make some new callouses on my fingers
- Post about the Tennessee trip, particularly the music elements, before the end of the month

See you on the other side for what's sure to be a rousing month of ear protection and napping in November!



*Owing to poor time management, traffic, and apathy, we didn't actually make it to FreeFest. Instead I'll collect some reviews of the bands that we kinda wanted to see but missed while either sitting in traffic in Columbia or while visiting the craft store/Trader Joes after we gave up.

**Especially recommendations for Vegas! Sadly Cher's not there anymore otherwise I would see that show in a heartbeat. We're on the strip the weekend of Oct. 19-22.

Use Fewer Screens: June

This post was written a while ago but I haven't touched on my monthly projects in a while so I thought I'd just let it fly. The monthly project for May was basically househunting, and July was no social media (to be discussed in another post, probably/maybe). August was going to be journal-each-day month but that did not pan out so let's go with biking month (more on that soon) and call it even.

For my monthly project in June, E and I cut out television. This was easy for a number of reasons: 1) We moved in June, and so were pretty preoccupied, 2) WETA Create/"How To" passed quietly away, replaced by WETA UK - because the world REALLY NEEDED more terrible class-based humor from unattractive people in suits and 3) We allowed ourselves "social" TV watching so that we wouldn't be total pariahs in our immediate friend circles. Oh, also, we decided movies in the theater don't count. What all this means in practice is that basically the only TV I watched in June was a handful of Wes Anderson movies and 1.75 viewings of Road House. Not so bad, overall.

Sam Eliot to the Swayze: It was worth it, friend. (image c/o TVGuide.com)

The effects of the experiment feel kind of minimal in retrospect, possibly because the moving busy-ness really didn't allow for a lot of vegetating even if we had wanted to. I do think my brain space was slightly enhanced, and I don't think I missed anything - we don't have cable anyway and don't watch the major networks too much so it's not like we're typically seeing the kind of programming that generates water-cooler conversation. Honestly, if I lived alone I would live TV-less and just watch movies etc. on my laptop, but when I signed on with E, I signed on for at least one ginormous flat screen TV in my life for the forseeable future. And, really, sometimes it's nice to sit back and take in an episode or Antiques Roadshow or break out one of our bazillion DVDs, so, I can't complain.

In our new house, the TV is in the basement, which has made our TV consumption situation here exactly the opposite of our old apartment. There, it was right in the middle of things, like a third roommate. You know the one: the dysfunctional know-it-all whose drama is just too engaging to completely avoid but whose crazy is far too much to handle. And also who blocks the fireplace. Jerk. Here, we have to go out of our way to watch TV, to the coldest part of the house with the least amount of natural light. Even in the sweltering DC summer, that can be a hard sell for me. Who knows what winter will bring but so far the setup is helping a bit to encourage mindful TV consumption.

Lest this post veer any further into the obnoxiously judgy and self-aggradizing territory it's already well into, I should note that my problem with TV is just that: mine. There's a lot of amazing art and innovation happening out there in TV Land and believe me, come the Olympics in two weeks - and Thursday nights this fall - E and I will be on our new enormous purple couch, "Grimace," with eyes glued.

Could YOU resist this couch? Then you are a better person than I am.

My issue with TV is that when it's on, I CAN'T. DO. ANYTHING. ELSE. Forming sentences becomes a problem. Knitting involves looking away from the TV, so that's out. Forget reading or writing. I am hardwired for language and drama, and once my brain has dug into whatever deeply stupid story I'm watching, it takes tremendous effort for me to refocus my attention back to, you know, the real world. The only exceptions for me are televised sports and instructional shows (cooking, gardening, woodworking - if you can describe making it, I'll watch it. How It's Made, I miss you). This is part of why losing WETA Create is such a tragedy in my tiny little media world. Those types of shows are both a) mildly educational and b) less like crack for my brain. It remains to be seen whether Fawlty Towers can fill the void but I doubt it.

So that's June. July's experiment in deprivation (seriously I am the laziest monthly-projecter ever) from social media is . . . well, I'm on Blogger right now so I probably can't say it's a success but the jury's still out. Stay tuned for a total lack of updates on the project until probably September or something.

Favorite Things Friday

Happy Friday! I'm ready for a nap. But in the meantime, here are some things.


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c/o Slaughterhouse 90210

"And still, I loathed being a child. Plainly stated, being a child was not—as used to be said around the time I was a child—my bag. Childhood was a foreign country to me. Everyone has an internal age. A time in life when one is of not one’s best, then at the very least one’s most authentic self. When your outside and inside are in sync, and soma and psyche mesh as perfectly as they’re going to. I always felt that my internal clock was calibrated somewhere between 47 and 53 years old.”

—David Rakoff, Half Empty

R.I.P. David Rakoff. Slaughterhouse 90210's* tribute (from which the above picture-and-quote mashup above is taken - not mine!!!) is both sweet and heartbreaking. Rakoff, a talented and deeply funny essayist - and well-known contributor to This American Life - was 47 when he died yesterday of cancer.


*for those unfamiliar, Slaughterhouse 90210 is a tumblr that pairs poignant literary prose with screenshots from TV and movies. The combinations typically highlight circumstantial similarities to lend a bit of levity to literature and a bit of gravitas to pop culture.


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I liked a lot of things about this thoughtful discussion from Erin Kissane about engaging internet trolls. However I do think the article light on positive examples, which are arguably the most important part of this kind of discussion. Check out Jay Smooth's video for further thoughts on the same topic.


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via Flavorwire

Flavorwire's collection of 30 famous actors with their film doubles.


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"If things are getting pretty serious, and you are getting along really well with yourself, consider taking a little trip. Maybe just a weekend at the beach, maybe a bed and breakfast a few hours outside of town, maybe a camping trip in the mountains. If you feel comfortable with yourself, you’re likely to have an amazing time. Take pictures, write in a journal, listen to music, go out to eat or cook the fish your caught in the lake. Read, doze off in the sun, go for hikes, draw, talk to the people you meet, try a pint of local microbrew, play with the bed and breakfast owner’s dog, go for a swim, write a letter to a friend, and just all around enjoy the company of your fantastic self."

Really digging on the How To Issue tumblr as a whole and particularly the above-quoted How To Date Yourself post this week.


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The Fashion It So tumblr offers what you never even knew you needed: Call Me Maybe cobbled together from dialogue in Star Trek TNG. Love the two-second snippets of background dramatic Star Trek music jammed together.


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"Never underestimate that a small group of people can hold up a liquor license. Sometimes, it's the only thing that can."

Greater Greater Washington's collection of inspirational quotes re-written to celebrate NIMBY obstructionism.


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This video has been posted everywhere but still: all hail our Secretary of Grandma Dancing, Hillary Clinton.


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Sweet Julia Child o' Mine.

Watch Julia Child's 100th birthday on PBS. See more from WGBH Specials.

Favorite Things Friday

To counter the rage-fest of my last entry, here are some very nice things that I like a lot.

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"Hot Knife" by Fiona Apple from her new stupidly-long-titled record. Never was a particularly huge fan of hers but these songs are so beautifully sparse and playful and clever and moody in all the right proportions. Album of the month for sure.

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PBS doing perhaps the most hip thing it has ever done: from the people who brought you Garden of Your Mind, Bob Ross autotuned. (Bonus link: 5 things you may not have known about Bob Ross, from Mental Floss).

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image c/o Bike29.com

What if?, the new blog feature from the creator of webcomic favorite xkcd. He uses math & scientific principles to answer questions like what would happen if you had a mole (6.022x10^23) of moles (sadness, it turns out), and how much of the Earth's power needs could be provided by Yoda's use of the Force. I like how he explains his thought process as he's working through a question, and keeps humor in the equation too. Science!

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The National Zoo's new baby dama gazelle, a most adorably preposterous creature.

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Do you have an awkward situation to celebrate, like breast augmentation, losing a finger or not getting any more DWIs? Cake Wrecks probably has a cake for that.

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Though its site seems to wreak havoc with my browser, I'm enjoying Slate's ongoing pop science column about the human genome.

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photo c/o The Guardian

The Olympics! We are sadly going to miss the opening ceremony because we'll be jamming to Holst at Wolf Trap but I am excited for some quality sportspersonship, international awareness and people doing their best for best's sake.

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Hurray for things!  And happy Friday.

Civic Doodies

I opened an email from Planned Parenthood this morning to find that the “DC 20-Week Abortion Ban” bill, sponsored by walking trashbag Trent Franks, just passed committee and will be up for a vote in the House of Representatives. The email urged me to call Rep. Franks, and to encourage friends I know in his congressional district to do the same. While I don’t really have any contacts in Arizona, I’m more than happy to express my concerns to the good Mr. Franks about this unconstitutional, unscientific, unethical and breathtakingly arrogant bill. Can do, PP!

To inform myself a bit more about the bill, I clicked around a bit on the bill’s govtrack site. Gotta be educated when contacting a congressperson, right? And THAT’S how I learned that out of the bill’s 220 co-sponsors, 9 hail from DC-adjacent Virginia and Maryland, and 6 identify as democrats. Hey, awesome, guys! (And yes, it IS mostly – though not exclusively – guys sponsoring the bill). Thanks for helping out us poor DC denizens with this whole lawmaking thing. Self-government and full representation are totally overrated and we really shouldn’t be worrying our pretty little heads! Banning our “shadow” representative Eleanor Holmes-Norton (a title befitting Ms. Holmes-Norton’s badassery but not the level of respect she’s accorded in Congress) from testifying on this bill was totally for our benefit, right? Just like this bill itself, which solely affects Rep. Holmes-Norton’s constituency. And is based on unproven science. And makes no exception for cases of abuse. And most importantly flouts the standing Supreme Court precedent in Roe v. Wade. All just to help out little old us? THANKS.


Flames on the side of my face.

At lunch, I googled around a bit for recommendations about the best way to contact my new sh*t-list of representatives without actually spontaneously combusting. I decided against calling, as I didn’t want my carefully crafted message to be poured into the ear of an uninterested administrator or staffer and then immediately reduced to a check mark somewhere in the office correspondence records. I want it to at least take MINUTES for the message to be reduced to a check mark somewhere in the correspondence records. The Art of Manliness (ironic?) has some good tips for contacting a representative, though at times I fear it veers into endorsing the gentlemen’s club atmosphere of our current congress. The author recommends calling if a vote is immediately pending (which I couldn't establish from the govtrack website), and sending a letter if you feel strongly but time is less pressing. However, letters mean stamps and stamps mean money and I shouldn’t have to pay to have my voice heard. Email, ephemeral as it is, will have to do.

So, I went ahead and collected my targets and went to each of their websites for email contact info. Most don’t supply email addresses, opting instead for site-integrated email forms. Which typically require zip+4 info to ensure that the writer is in fact a constituent. Which, ha ha, I WISH I weren’t considered your constituent, congressperson-friend, but you make it so DIFFICULT for me by supporting legislation that SOLELY impacts my (voteless) voting district. So! If you can totally break the rules about boundaries, uh, so can I?

Pro tip for DC protesters: To get around the zip code email requirement, find the zip+4 of the Rep’s district office and plug it in, and then – if you want to give them your full address at all, which many of the forms require – tack DC and your zip code onto the end of the city name. All this takes extra time, but since my uterus isn’t busy gestating a fetus that 221 people who don’t represent my district want the ability to force me to carry to term past a nebulously-defined 20-week period on the grounds of pseudoscience, religiously motivated bigotry, and/or misogyny, I guess I have the free time. I wasn’t planning to do any work today anyway!*

To hammer the representation point home, I also included this paragraph at the end of each email.

“I request confirmation via mail that this message was received and read. I note that Rep. ()’s website is set up to only accept messages from individuals residing in (his) congressional district. I submit, however, that in supporting the passage of this bill which solely affects my current voting district, Rep. () has made me a member of his constituency and as such I deserve a response.”

Feel free to borrow this language if you too are a) disenfranchised in DC and b) WICKED PISSED.


Sponsor of HR 3803:
The Dishonorable Trent Franks

DC/MD co-sponsors of HR 3803:
Morgan Griffith (R-VA)
Frank Wolf (R-VA)
Rob Wittman (R-VA)
Scott Rigell (R-VA)
Robert Hurt (R-VA)
J. Randy Forbes (R-VA)
Robert "Bob" Goodlatte (R-VA)
Roscoe Bartlett (R-MD)
Andy Harris (R-MD)

Democratic co-sponsors of HR 3803:
Daniel Lipinski (D-IL)
Mike McIntyre (D-NC)
Collin Peterson (D-MN)
Nick Rahall (D-WV)
Jerry Costello (D-IL)
Dan Boren (D-OK)


My full letter** (altered appropriately for non-local dems & Trent Franks):

To the Honorable Representative () and staff:

My name is (), and as a current citizen of the District of Columbia without full representation in congress, I am represented in part by Rep ().

I am writing to register my surprise and frustration with Rep. ()’s co-sponsorship of HR 3803, the “DC 20 Week Abortion Ban.” As a woman and a citizen of the District of Columbia I see this bill as wholly unethical both for its content and for the method by which the bill has been promoted in congress.

As a representative from a neighboring state, Rep. () should be more aware than many that the District of Columbia is not a mere abstraction to be used for political experimentation, but a district filled with real people whose rights are equally real under the law even as we are denied full representation in congress. HR 3803 represents an unconstitutional attack on my district’s right to self-government and my rights as a citizen of the United States. Barring Rep. Eleanore Holmes-Norton from testifying on the bill was further evidence of true disregard for precisely the citizens whom this bill purports to serve.

Furthermore, the bill itself is deeply flawed. Setting aside that all women have a right to make decisions about their own bodies, the bill uses unproven science and flawed emotional reasoning to illegally challenge a Supreme Court precedent regarding women’s health. Astoundingly, the bill even lacks exception in cases of abuse, and subjects a doctor to criminal penalties simply for performing a safe – and legal – medical procedure.

Playing political theater with the lives and health of unrepresented and underserved women in the District of Columbia evidences arrogance and disdain for me, and for the American civic system. I strongly urge Rep. () to reconsider his position on this bill and turn his attention to the true and very real challenges of this time in our nation’s history. Rep. (), women are watching.

I request confirmation via mail that this message was received and read. I note that Rep ()’s website is set up to only accept messages from individuals residing in his congressional district. I submit, however, that in supporting the passage of this bill which solely affects my current voting district, Rep. () has made me a member of his constituency and as such I deserve a response.

Thank you.






*Not actually true. I would much rather be doing paperwork for polar bears.

**Any wonk friends who might be reading, let me know if you have further/better tips for contacting a congressperson in such a way as to induce them (or at least their staffers) to actually listen. I can't see how this particular policy could possibly be more relevant to me short of being personally knocked up, but I'm not super optimistic about getting any response back.

On Death and Lawn Maintenance

We recently purchased a semi-detached rowhouse in the northern reaches of DC. This has meant so many changes and excitements and new responsibilities that I couldn't even begin to ennumerate them. We've reached a new plateau this week where it feels like for every task we accomplish, three more get added to the list, each requiring more time, travel, additional furniture/tools, research, and energy than the last. Welcome to the Hydra of Home Ownership!

One of the tasks I've taken primarily responsibility for is our yard. I have grand ambitions for the future, but for now, the yard responsibilities basically boil down to "making it look like this house is occupied by reasonable humans." This, in turn, boils down to battle to the pain with a jungle of tall, prolific weeds whose root systems are probably older, and certainly smarter, than I am. Because of the size and shape of the space, our newly-acquired weed whacker is my new best friend. Though I'm not sure it feels the same way about me. Here's how it goes:

1. Suit up. This means donning shorts and a shirt that won't be too inappropriate when I bend over, and then covering myself head-to-toe in bug spray. Then lace on sneakers, both pairs of which I have now greenified past the point of no return.

2. Survey the battlefield. Tonight before whacking I had to locate and move the dozen-plus outdoor potted plants we left in the jungle after the move, which led to such fascinating discoveries as Wow Slugs Can Actually Move Kinda Fast and Oh My God Why Are There So Many Ant Larvae.

3. Inventory weapons. Weed whacker, check. 50-ft extension cord, check. Righteous anger, check.

4. Go to work. The beauty of the weed whacker is that you can start anywhere and just keep going. There's no filter to clean, no gas to fill up, no nonsense. Just carnage.

5. Power through the guilt. Inevitably as I whack, I find myself thinking about the number of lives that I am upending, or just plain ending. I have little remorse about the weeds themselves, as their whole raison d'etre is to survive ANYTHING. But what of the zillions of little grasshoppers, roly-polys, ants and other harmless creatures who make their homes in this space? Every book I ever read in my childhood about a garden dweller runs through my mind, along with probably a few that I totally made up. Thanks for the trauma-inducing anthropomorphism-laden memories, Roald and Beatrix (Spoiler alert, Ewan Mcgregor DIES). 

As I walk the killing fields, I imagine the little bugs sitting down to a nice dinner in their comfy, seemingly-secure homes, only to find themselves suddenly in the middle of an incomprehensible Hurricane of Death. What did they do to deserve this? They merely nestled in our cozy little yard, unaware that it was now Under New Ownership and that eviction notices were being served. Sorry guys! I really don't hate bugs (unless they eat my hydrangeas) and I'm okay with all of you living in the yard, as long as you stay out of the house! But, I will not be stopping the Hurricane of Death, so, something to keep in mind.

6. Mopping up. My general recommendation is to have someone else do the dirty work of raking, bagging and discarding the wet green plant carcasses you've just created. That is, if you bother to discard them at all. Leaving them could be a pretty powerful message to the rest of the lot. Plus, raking is the worst.

7. Retire, victorious. Okay, victorious is maybe an overstatement. "Exhausted" might fit better, though really the physical exertion of holding a magic stick that does all your killing for you is kind of minimal. How about "Retire, encrusted." Specifically, limbs, hair and glasses, gloriously coated with plant matter and bug parts.

8. Shower. Live to fight another day.

Rockin' in the Free World

Something about big, widely-observed celebrations makes me really contrarian. It probably boils down to, "don't TELL me how to FEEL, political/social/corporate/religious institution! I'll do what I WANT!"

via Gingerhaze

Independence Day is no exception. Don't get me wrong, there's lots to love about this holiday: barbeques, beer, sparklers, a day off from work, and really excellently trashy movie.

But thinking too hard about the 4th of July always gets to me. For years my parents would take my brother and me to a rural-ish celebration out in bumfuck VA for the holiday, and it was usually pretty nice - quiet, friendly, local, tasty - but one year they had an actual war-related reenactment, with a tank lumbering across the huge field and explosions simulating gunfire popping all around it. I remember being wholly terrified, followed by really disappointed. Seriously guys? I recognize the reality of war (though that doesn't mean I always see its necessity, nor in specific cases its legitimacy). I am grateful to those who serve, no question. But I don't see the value in reliving war for live entertainment. And it's not how I would choose to contemplate the state of our nation on its birthday.

For that matter, there's plenty else to consider at this stage in our nation's history that gives me pause. But there are also a fair share of pluses, which I don't wish to overlook. America doesn't do it right every time, and MAN don't get me started on some of those details (not having a national electoral voice doesn't mean I don't have OPINIONS, yo) but there's a good bit to admire too. For all that I know, don't know, appreciate and reject about our country - I just can't do the flag-waving thing. It's not in me.

So, I guess aside from writing cranky blog posts and generally being a pill, the best way to register my (democratically sanctioned) dissent is . . . a mix? Consider it Independence Day for Commies. And enjoy.




(There's like 10 songs missing including the below. I blame Spotify, but you get the idea.)