Posts (page 2)
...you were born.
You were a wee little sprite of a thing, but also a headstrong one.
It's all I can do to post a photo of you NOT biting me, since that was
far and away your favorite activity until you were about one. Instead,
I choose to remember those times when you were sweet, serene, and
(somewhat) sedate. Like this.
Moments like those were few and far between as a puppy...in fact,
moments like those are few and far between even now. You're currently
standing sentry at the door growling at my landlord's nine hundred
thousand dogs that he has rescued (this man has a straight shot to the
pearly gates when he goes, his heart is THAT BIG.) in case one of them
would have the audacity to step a paw on our doormat. You've always
been a pretty good watchdog, even when the "aggressor" in question is a
butterfly.
You were (read: are) a mischevious dog, needing to get into whatever
you find on the floor (or, too often, in my clothing hamper.) One day,
you decided that the Easy-Off Oven Cleaner top was your new favorite
toy. Hell, it's cheaper than a Kong, so GO FOR IT.
As much as I had hoped (and wished and prayed) for it, you didn't stay
little for very long. Somehow - perhaps it was your predilection for
the cat's food - you got bigger and bigger and alas, turned into a
very, VERY fuzzy puppy. (Currently, a very strong 32-pound dog, a whole
12 pounds more than any of your littermates as well as your parents. I
say it's b/c you're tall, but who knows, maybe you shit out rocks.
Actually, sometimes you do...)
I miss having a "proper" back yard for you - the transition to San
Francisco was less than desirable, esp. when you refused to pee on
concrete for the first month. (Hell, I don't blame you. Who wants to
pee on the sidewalk!?) You've adjusted, though, and have become a city
dog after nearly 2 1/2 years here. Thank God San Francisco is such a
dog-friendly city, at least when it
comes to events. You've had your share of outings...Bay to Breakers,
...Dog Days at the Giants Game,
Halloween (one, two, THREE stupid outfits!),
Though as you've gotten older, you've started to grasp the concept of
sleeping in. This has been a struggle I fight with EVERY SINGLE DAY
SINCE I GOT YOU, especially since the first year of your life entailed
a consistent 5am wakeup call. Didn't matter if I kept you up until
midnight, you still were bright-eyed and teensy-wagging bushy tailed
when the rest of the (sane, dogless) world was still aslumber. The past
few months, with me not working, have tested your limits in this whole
"sleeping in" concept, and I'm proud to say that there was even a time
that you didn't budge from the bed until after 9. That's NINE AM. IN
THE MORNING. As in a whole FOUR HOURS after your previous wake-up time.
I don't think I've ever been prouder of you.
You're the first dog I've ever owned for myself, and despite the cat
menagerie, there have been times that I've contemplated getting you a
puppy playmate since your energy is endless. I hated leaving you when I
trekked down to Google each day, and while your dog walker
has been a lifesaver, I still wish you had a playmate who would chase
you back when you decided to exert that puppy craziness on them. You
know, besides me. But the more I thought about it, I didn't think it
would be fair - what if you didn't get along? What if they were smaller
than you (and, ok, better behaved when I took them on a walk) and I
started taking THEM out more than you? Or what if they were bigger than
you and bullied you around? I couldn't handle it. So alas, probably
similar to my parents acquiescing to one child, I've decided that at
least for now, you're going to be "An Only Dog" in this crazy,
cat-laden menagerie-inducing household. Which, I think, is just the way
it should be.
Happy Third Birthday, Lila Belle. I can't imagine my life without you,
my early-rising, underwear-eating, cat food-dev0uring light of my life
puppy...you're the best.
With over seven years of content on my website, it's no wonder I don't revisit the past as often as I should. (Which probably is a good indication as to why I keep finding myself somewhat repeating it...) And yet when I do, I'd better save at least an hour to go through old posts and - more time-consuming than anything - old photos. Which, on yet another day where I have VERY little to do (only because I've been up since 6am and already went climbing, read/watched the MacWorld keynote, and accomplished EVERY LAST THING on my to-do list!) is exactly what I've been doing for the last half-hour. Prompted by Daisy's question of whether or not she should cut her hair (I directed her to my old post showing the aftermath of my Locks of Love donation) I found myself sucked into my pre-Flickr Typepad photo gallery days. Which has caused me to question the important things: my taste in men, my taste in drinks and - most importantly - my taste in fashion. To note:
WHAT THE HELL AM I WEARING? If there was a fugly contest where users had to design the most hideous of dresses, I'm sure I would have been the grand prize winner. Keyhole neck? ZEBRA PRINT-slash-PALM LEAF PATTERNED? For God's sake, this was what I wore to the going-away party I was throwing my then-boyfriend! That whole "moving to Chicago, going to B-School" reason for dumping me was a farce; CLEARLY he was appalled by my taste in clothing.
Well, that's all the time we have today for mortification. Tune in next time wherein I find some new way to make myself writhe in embarrassment...
What do you do with the cards and letters you receive? Do you keep them all, just keep the photos, throw them away?
Inspired by jacolily.
I tend to keep the Holiday cards (if only to remind myself that yes, I really *AM* the last living singleton on earth) as well as anything really meaningful. I have all of the letters that my Grandfather wrote me in college, and at one point I realized that my relatives were getting older and I wanted to make sure I told them how much they meant to me. So I wrote them each a personal letter reminiscing about some memories and times together, and - amazingly, beautifully - they wrote me back. I have all of those as well.
I also have notes from 7th grade...some of them are too funny to throw away. Like this one.
Four and a half days left in this year that I had originally been so optimistic about. While I wouldn't trade my optimism for anything, let's just say that even though I'm reblonded and things really ARE looking up, I'd highly qualify 2007 as a dark and twisty sort of year. Which is cool, really, because like El Niño, it can't happen two years in a row, right? RIGHT?
Anyway. Just giving you my year in a nutshell as a preface to your little "Happy Holidays" internet gift, just a few days late from last week's intended post date. (Sorry, was having technical problems. Silly interwebs.) Taking the cue from fabulous people like Ryan and Keith, I, too, decided to step it up a notch from last year's "Best of..." music list and provide you with the actual soundtrack, all downloadable and full of 100% authentic lurv from me to you. So without further ado, I present you with my "Best of 2007" song list - a veritable Top Ten List of Awesome, plus two more because MY awesome goes to twelve (screw turning it up to eleven - that's so overused.) Download the whole playlist here (but keep reading for my reasons why.)
Aubs' Best of 2007 List: In order from "Super Awesome" to "OMG I Can't Get This Song Outta My Head!"
1. "Foundations" - Kate Nash
A late entry into this list, I first heard this a few months back as a preview of her soon-to-be released album, Made of Bricks.
I love her over-pronounced British accent and the way the somber lyrics
so greatly contrast the poppy tune of the song; resonated with my mood
as of late.
2. "Nothing & Nowhere" - Emily Haines
My friends Ali,
Ryan and I saw her last January at Great American Music Hall - it was
one of those quiet, serene sit-down shows and we somehow persuaded the
bouncer to give us a reserved table front and center. I had been
listening to Knives Don't Have Your Back for weeks prior to the
show, but it wasn't until I heard her sing this song live that I
realized that it was my favorite on the album. Despite its mellow
nature, it made it on many a mix CD this past year.
3. "Baby I" - Amy Millan
I
remember listening to this song on repeat while coming home on the
Google bus many days last spring. Not only do I adore all of Honey from the Tombs,
but I got to see Amy TWICE(!!) while at SXSW and she sang this song
both times while I sang along like a starstruck fool wearing cowboy
boots. Which - frankly - I was.
4. "Samson" - Regina Spektor
While the rest of the world
was bopping to "Fidelity", I was too busy being captivated by the first
line of this song ("You are my sweetest downfall") to pay attention to
anything else. Her voice is ethereal and while this song is true to the
melancholy nature of many of the songs in my Best of 2007, I still find
it to be a sweet, simple love song.
5. "Between the Moon and the Ocean" - Bon Savants
My
friend Abby's twin sister's boyfriend is the lead singer for the Bon
Savants; were it not for this connection, I don't think I would have
headed out on a blustery Monday night to see this Boston-based band
when they made their way to SF in late 2006. And it would surely have
been my loss, since I couldn't stop singing this for weeks; nay, months. "You kiss like a Russian" may be my favorite lyric of 2007.
6. "Size too Small" - Sufjan Stevens
Behold, the power of the Internets. My friend Ryan posted this on his Vox blog,
and though it was dedicated to another gal, I was charmed by the words
and charmed by the fact that there are other people out there besides
me that let the lyrics of a song provide the words to say what they've
wanted to for a while. Gives me hope in some sort of romanticized,
days-gone-by sort of way.
7. "Night Windows" - The Weakerthans
Daniel Burka, were it
not for your obsession with this band and your many posts on Pownce
about them, I wouldn't have known about one of the best songs of the
year. Thanks be to you, many times over.
8. "Plus Ones" - Okkervil River
A true story: 'Twas the
first night of SXSW music, and I had ventured off on my own to see
Okkervil River play at Mohawk Patio. I ended up sitting next to Jon
(who occasionally plays with The Broken West and who I had seen playing
trumpet with The Walkmen earlier that day, at which time I thought "YUM
- former band geek turned HOT!" and who - ok, I admit it - I was super
smitten with in that "I enjoy smooching you" sort of way) and watching
Okkervil River live for the first time looking down from great,
smuggled seats from the balcony. It was the perfect kick-off for the
rest of the week, and when Okkervil River's new album came out, it was
only fitting that they wrote my favorite song on the last night of SXSW. Can't wait to hear them play it in person next year...Jon, open invitation to join me again.
9. "Midnight Coward" - Stars
Yet another appearance by Amy Millan in my Top Ten Twelve List, this time with her counterpart Torquil Campbell in what I believe (and Last.fm confirms) to be my favorite band of 2007. While this wasn't the first song that jumped out at me from In Our Bedroom After The War,
it's the one I've found myself listening to the most, no small part
because of the lyric "Hurry to believe, I can always trust as much as
you deceive." Sad, but true.
10. "If I Am A Stranger" (live) - Ryan Adams
Number
10 comes from my second-favorite musician of the year (though probably
my favorite one of all time.) Apparently, I listened to "Two" more than
any other Ryan Adams song this year, but that's probably because it was
the pre-release and I was so excited for Easy Tiger to come out
that I couldn't resist playing it excessively. This song is from his
"Follow the Lights" EP and while it made the list at the last minute,
it reminds me of the Whiskeytown days so much that I had to include it.
11. "Talking in Code" - Margot & the Nuclear So & So's
I first saw them live in November 2006 without ever hearing one of their songs, and went home and immediately downloaded The Dust of Retreat
only to put it on constant repeat. At SXSW, I raced across town to see
them (by myself, no less) and - this time, knowing their songs - sang
along to every one of their tracks. "Talking in Code" has resonated
with me from the first time that I heard it, and the only way I can
describe it is that it makes me breathless.
12. "No ones gonna love you" - Band of Horses
This
shouldn't come as a surprise to many of you, since I'm clearly an
uber-fan of this awesome band, but this is hands down the best song on Cease to Begin
and is gaining ground on my former fave BoH song, "The Funeral". My
friend and I went to see them play at The Fillmore in late November,
and when this song came on, I just stood there, mouthing the words as
not to detract from Ben Bridwell's unique, powerful voice. Lyrics from
this song often serve as my IM status message and since it came out,
there was never a question that it would take the top spot in my 2007
"Best of" list. If only I was in Atlanta for NYE, since they're playing
FOUR SHOWS at The Earl. Jealousy can't begin to explain it.
So there you have it - twelve months, twelve songs. ENJOY, and Happy Holidays.
Recently, for various reasons, I chose to leave the stable, corporate world of 9-to-5dom. Yes, I know this may come as a surprise to many of you since I haven't written about it until now, but know that decision was also made for some very good reasons. Regardless, the outcome is the same - for the last month and a half I've done what I haven't done since I was 11: basically, been unemployed.
That's not to say that I've been sitting idly by; quite the contrary. I've taken on various writing and consulting gigs in an effort to fill this seemingly endless expanse of free time while I've been trying to figure out just what I want to do with my life. And throughout this process - which is ongoing, may I add - I've learned a few things along the way. Such as:
- Assumption One: With all my free time, I'll be able to make significant healthy changes in my life.
You know, like working out every day. Reality: total times I worked out in the last 45 days? Once. A long walk with Lila to get an embossing iron. (Wow, my mundaneness is just so...mundane.) Vicious cycle, this unemployment purgatory, as I found myself basically both craving and subsequently resenting "having" to do anything, even if it was something I knew that was good for both body and soul, like exercising. (We'll NOT discuss the number of beers consumed...) - Assumption Two: Working for myself would help unleash my creativity.
You guessed it, FALSE. As evidenced by the number of posts on this site since November 1st, you can see that I've found the opposite to be true. I've found myself devoid of motivation, of creative juices, and in many ways I've felt like I've lost my "voice." I think that I often saw this website as my own little refuge; faced with an onslaught of work 'tasks' I used writing here as my solace, my proverbial calm in the storm. It was a balance to corporate drudgery. Yet remove those responsibilities and writing soon seemed like the drudgery itself. Also, I didn't want to wax poetic about my newfound "freedom" while I was trying to figure out my actual feelings about it, negative or otherwise. So, for once, I just clammed up. Posted a lot of photos. Some songs for your listening pleasure. As for writing, well, that only occurred in my head and in my journal. (Probably a shame, since some of the experiences I've had as a full-time unemployed person have been priceless. You know like the fact that I've been denied - TWICE - for health insurance because of my heartburn. BlueCross of California, if I PROMISE to take my Tums, will you change your mind?) - Realization One: I don't enjoy working for myself.
This one has been especially hard to fathom since I long believed this was my ultimate work goal. As in: "Get married, have kids, be a freelance writer." Only I'm NOT married, the menagerie - while frustrating at times - can't compare to raising children, and - the most surprising realization - I don't particularly enjoy freelance writing. (Too varied of subject matter, not enough in-depth knowledge gained, in case you were wondering my reasoning.) Which, once I realized this, sends me back to square one. Hi, I'm 30, and I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Ironic, I suppose, in that whole "life is but a series of really pathetic jokes" sort of way. - Realization Two: Getting a lot of sleep does NOT relieve tiredness.
Also frustrating. I figured that sleeping in (not normally one of my strong suits) and napping if and when I pleased, would be the best. I'd be refreshed! Dynamic! Have that glowing skin that comes to those calm, zen-like people that uphold healthiness next to Godliness. Wrong again. Glowing skin is saved for post-coital situations and vegans only. My naps? Unfulfilling. And even though I didn't HAVE to get up at a particular time most days, I did, and only went back to bed to fight that feeling of endless, looming hours ahead with still no certain direction. Oh, and your friends get really pissy when you log off of IM to go take a nap at noon. - Realization Three: I like working, but only for someone else.
I've always had a good work ethic, and have been proud of both my efforts and results. The fact that I LIKE working didn't surprise me, but the fact that I like being someone's employee DID. I'm a hard-working, motivated person who can both take and give direction. I like managing teams, and learning from good managers. Hell, I've even learned from CRAPPY managers - seeing what NOT to do, how NOT to treat people is also valuable in its own right. But as I found myself "professionally" sitting in my revamped home office (correct posture and all), I found that I was, well, bored. Lila, for all her talents, doesn't hold her side of the conversation very well. IM only goes so far. And - let's be honest - it's FAR too easy to wear the same sweatpants and t-shirt day after day when you have no incentive not to. (As Daisy suggested for the title of this realization: "My hygiene started to suffer.") And after a few weeks - maybe even a few days - of working alone at home or at a cafe, I found myself actually missing cube-land, reminiscent about the daily grind. I started resenting all of this time - never even traveling, save for an unexpected trip back to Ohio for my Grandmother's funeral - and really started longing for (dare I say it?) a routine. Stability. Because, frankly, I think that's where I feel most secure, as uncool as it is to admit it.
In a nutshell, I've been living many people's dream: working very little, accountable only to myself (and the limits of my bank account.) My sacrifices were seemingly minimal: I still go out to eat too much, still have a stocked wine fridge, and yes, you're still getting your Christmas gift after the Great iPhone Debacle™ (story forthcoming) resolved itself most swimmingly.
But there certainly HAVE been sacrifices, in terms of my self-worth, my motivation, my realization that my life's goal wasn't one that interested me anymore. That, despite the blow to my self-motivated ego, I am happier working for - and with - others. That I thrive from their creativity, feeding off our interaction. That, after 5 years of higher education and 8+ years in the workforce, I still don't really know what it is I want to do. It's one thing to be 30 and single, yet another to be 30, single, and unemployed. Both of those I can (somewhat) handle. But to be 30, single, unemployed, and questioning my entire career aspirations, well, that's just scary as hell.
As Albert Toffler said: "The future always comes too fast, and in the
wrong order." Well, future, I'm here, ready and willing to take on
whatever is next. But please, can my "next" come complete with a window
view?
So apparently, in these past 29 days of laxidasicality (among other things, and other monikers of which I have called this last tumultuous/insane/awful/challenging/trying/life-changing month), I have found myself much more lax in blog-reading as I used to be. Which is ironic, in fact, since I have all of this TIME on my hands (time, time, and more time) and before I was constantly swamped with one thing or another. You'll also notice that I've not only been a poor blog-reader, but also a poor blog WRITER to boot. Hey, don't hate, I've been intentionally vague about the things that have been happening in my life but let it suffice to say that my IM status message is "Live through this and you won't look back." Anyhoo.
Helen Jane - my dear, awesome, amazing, inspiring, motivating friend - tagged me a few weeks ago in a bit of virtual blog-tag. Except I've been too wrapped up in the stuff I've been wrapped up in and missed her "tag" entirely. Egads! All this time I've been "IT", the proverbial Goose (as in "duck, duck...") and I've been sitting here like a bump on a log, naive that it's my turn to chase the person around the circle. Well, all that's changing today, kids. I'm IT, and as per the rules of the game, I have to share seven random/little-known-facts about myself with all y'all. I'm late enough on this, so without further ado...
1. If I were a boy, I wouldn't have a name.
Ok, I'm sure that 30 years later my parents would finally have decided upon one, but at the time of my birth, they had NO idea what I would be called if I had indeed been a boy. Good thing I'm not (and not only for my fabulous rack. Heh.)
2. The first boy I kissed showed up at my 5-year High School reunion and I had no idea who he was.
This is only strange because he wasn't from my town and the only reason he was there was because he was dating (and eventually married, and is rumored to have since divorced) one of my best friends from Middle School. It took me over an hour to realize who he was (person in an unexpected location and all that) which I feel pretty bad about. So, sorry, Jon McConnell. Hope you're doing well (and are still cute. Because I am.)
3. When I was younger, I tried to convince my parents to call me "Joanie."
As in "...Loves Chachi" fame.
4. I am petrified of gangplanks.
Without going into the whole saga, I've had these awful dreams for years that include steel grates and ladders and it wasn't until I was going to Tim Ferriss's "Worlds Colliding" party that I realized that the culmination of all of this is a Battleship replete with a gangplank. I nearly had a panic attack getting on that ship. Don't foresee a career in the Navy any time soon for myself.
5. I hate olives, onions, mustard, pickles, peppers and (sometimes) peanut butter.
Read: I have strange food aversions.
6. I have kissed a set of identical twins.
Not at the same time. And wasn't 100% sure that I was smooching Brian, not David. Or vice versa. Whatever. It was High School.
7. I have never told anyone I was romantically involved with "I Love You."
The tragic part isn't that statement, but is the fact that I have never been in love. One of these days (I keep telling myself...)
And now, after seeing all that, I'm sending myself directly to therapy. But not before I follow the rest of the rules for the meme (which I copied directly from HelenJane's blog):
1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.
Ok. I'm down with 1-3; foregoing 4-5. After all, I have some serious therapy to get to.
I give you Ryan's.
Our friend Tim Ferriss, author of The 4-Hour Workweek and all around awesome guy, hosted a party this Saturday on a WW2 Battleship. Named the "Worlds Colliding" party, he invited those who helped with the LitLiberation campaign to say thanks for their participation. I overcame my aversion (and subsequent near-hyperventilation) to the wobbly gangplank and was glad I did; I would have missed out on great conversation and super interesting people otherwise. You can check out the whole story on bub.blicio.us.
Thanks, Tim, for a fabulous evening (and Brian, for documenting it so beautifully!)
Belated photo from our camping trip this summer. I could use a bit of calm these days.
