French Christmas

The Color Purple

My appointment book is color coded. Blue for work, black for nighttime appointments, green for pay days, purple for special events (birthday, cocktail hours, weekend getaways). There's always lots of blue. Usually lots of black. But lately, happily, there has also been a lot of purple.

Listen up, class

There are two things I do not deal well with. One is anything related to toilets. The second is bugs. My apartment could catch fire or be invaded my an army of mice, and I'd be totally fine. But if the toilet clogs or an errant carpenter ant shows up, I lose my ability to function as a rational human being.

Ironically, this week I've had to deal with both. First I noticed a little water on the floor every time one of us flushed the toilet. After consulting pretty much any random stranger who would listen to me, I came to the conclusion that the seal was broken. Which led to compulsive mopping and floor bleaching until the landlord was able to come fix it.

Then there were the mysterious red bites Aaron and I started noticing on our arms and legs last week. I figured an errant spider had made its way into the bed, until my train passed a "Bed Bugs are Back!" billboard during the morning commute. This caused a minor nervous breakdown and a complete, top-to-bottom disinfection of my apartment at 11:00 p.m. last night. (For the record, I don't really know if I have bed bugs. And I don't care. All I care about is that my landlord is bombing my apartment at high noon today. Bye bye, buggies.)

So what's the morale of the story? I have control issues. And the universe forced me to look at them very closely this week, by throwing me curveballs I was absolutely unprepared to handle. Thus I'm finally forced to accept something my Mom has been telling me for YEARS: the only thing you can really control in this world is your reaction to what's going on around you.

But on the upside . . .

Pontiac might be dead, but gay marriage is alive and well (at least in Iowa anyways.) So that's something. Actually, probably more than something. I think these two events say something pretty profound about the direction the country is moving in, but I'm too tired to expand and articulate upon it. Maybe next time.

RIP Pontiac

Today I grieve. GM announced that Pontiac will be no longer.

I still remember the cold, wintry day that I drove my first car, a Grand Am, off the lot. For four years, that shiny, teal blue wonder was my partner in crime, delivering me safely to pep rallies, soccer practices, and secret meetings with my ex. After that, it accompanied me to college, bearing the weight of screaming roommates, kegs of natty light, and long road trips to Ohio for Friendly's ice cream. 

After a brief fliration with a Toyota Camry, I returned to to the loving arms of a Pontiac, this time a Vibe (now an endangered species). Like the Grand Am, this Pontiac is peppy, reliable, and built like a brick#*&house.

I don't think they'll make cars like that anymore.

Possibly the sexiest car of all time, via Istock.

Bad Dreams

I have a recurring nightmare that I've somehow missed summer. In the dream, I wake up one morning, only to look outside and see the leaves have all turned to gold and yellow and red. I think to myself that it can't be possible, that spring just arrived yesterday, but it is autumn nontheless.

I know what the nightmare means for me in the bigger, psychological picture. And I know it's irrational, but these days I'm still relieved to wake up and hear the birds singing and see the tiny buds on the trees outside

TGIT

Ahhhh Thursday, almost better than Friday, because the entire weekend is ahead. Anticipation at its best.

Happy Earth Day!

Dear Mother Earth,

Thank you ever so much for the following:

1. Tea leaves. 
2. The time right after day and just before night.
3. Fireflies.
4. Cool breezes in the summertime. 
5. The Grand Canyon.
6. The juice in the orange.
7. Soft green grass.  
8. The sound of thunder.
9. The smell of rain.
10. Human beings.

In honor of today, I'm making an Earth Day resolution that I won't:

1. Neglect the overflowing bag of recyclables under my sink.
2. Leave my charger plugged in after I charge my phone.
3. Take unnecessarily indulgent 30 minute shower.s (I mean it, I really think I can commit to 15.)
4. Allow my OCAP (obsessive cleaning alternate personality) to use too much bleach or other unfriendly cleaners and chemicals.
5. Purchase the very tempting, but non-local, pineapple at the grocery store.
6. Throw away my plastic water bottles after yoga. (I know, the irony is thick.)
7. Ever use any light bulbs other than the cool swirly ones.
8. Find an apartment in the shade, so I won't have to run the AC all summer.
9. Eat any animals that didn't have happy, cage-free lives first.
10. Keep the water running when I brush my teeth (or wander out of the bathroom to see what's on CNN).

XOXO N. :)

What's Essential?

Some weeks the writing thing goes really well. I have good idea for blog posts, they come out the way I want them to, and they provoke good discussion. Other weeks, like this one, work gets really busy, and I'm tired when I get home, and I don't feel like getting back on the computer, and then the toilet starts leaking . . . you can guess what happens next. I write a sentence or two about being sleepy and promise to post more tomorrow.

How come it's so easy to sometimes put aside the things that are essential to us? They should be like breakfast, first and foremost in our minds.

Ten Years

I guess it was ten years ago that I was hanging out in someone's dorm room, attempting to study and whatnot, when my friend Roz stuck her head in and said, "Hey, do you know what's up with Columbine?" And believe it or not, there wasn't any twitter or facebook or even IM yet, and most people didn't have cell phones, hence no texts, so it took us all awhile to cobble together the facts.

Now we have all those things, as well as breaking news banners on MSN. So when the Virginia Tech tragedy happened, everyone knew right away. But of course the real question is: have things gotten any better?

The state of the union is neurotic

I think Americans are addicted to stress. If we didn't have something to stress about, I don't think we would know what to do with ourselves!!