Community

December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

I missed a day. I'll blame KU Basketball. Especially in light of the fact that my discussion of community will center around KU basketball and to a lesser degree (for me) football.

In a city this large it's tough to make new friends. I will admit that the majority of my close friends are still people who I knew from high school and college. However, the new friends I have made (mostly) have one thing in common: KU. Now, yes, it can be frustrating to just keep meeting people who already know people you know. That's why I've made a concentrated effort to meet people completely outside my social circle (to varied results) but there is still something comforting about the community of KU people in this city.

Ironically, I really fell into this group of people through Nebraska folks, but I've met some very cool people through going to watch KU games at really terrible bars. Admittedly, some are considered actual friends and some are not people I converse with at any other time than at a KU game, but that's OK too.

Last night I was part of this community, but multiplied by a thousand. I went to Madison Square Garden for the KU-Memphis game. The famed arena was filled with KU fans and everyone felt fine to talk to each other as if they'd known them for years. We blatantly eavesdropped on the people behind us, and then inserted ourselves into the conversation. I gave a complete stranger a high five. And yes we did spy celebrity KU fan, Jason Sudekis in the crowd, gladly taking photos and shaking hands with his brethren. It was fantastic. There is this sense of community in those places that makes everyone feel they belong. And they do—all united by a common purpose and passion. Which, when you think about it, is really what a community is all about.

Adventures in cooking

December 6 – Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

Traditionally I can cook about six dishes: chili, tacos (and it's cousin taco bake), chicken Parmesan, pasta (in various, non-complicated forms as in i can heat noodles and pour sauce on top), Dijon blackened chicken and beef stroganoff (but not as well as mom).

I've made some new progress. i made up a recipe of baked eggs in tomato sauce after having it in a restaurant. My newest success may not be the last thing I made (that would be cookies for a cookie exchange, and before you get excited the main ingredient in the cookies was box cake mix), but it was definitely the most impressive.

Pupusas.

For uninitiated, pupusas are a traditional Salvadorian street food made from corn masa and stuffed with goodies like cheese, beans, chicken, etc. I became addicted to them at the Brooklyn Flea market, otherwise known as the best part of living in Brooklyn. When we were hosting our Fall into Mexico in October, Alison had baked goods covered so I thought I should contribute. A quick Martha Stewart video and I was ready. Plus, due to a birthday bowling trip, i had to make them in record time.

I mixed the flour with water, even eyeballing it to get the right consistency, rolled them into balls, filled them with goodies and cooked them. You top them with tomato sauce and sour cream and traditionally pickled cabbage (which I declined to include). They were the hit of the party, along with Alison's incredible pumpkin whoopies, which probably took more skill than making all of my aforementioned six dishes plus the pupusas combined.

Next on my list of things to make: something in my crock pot besides beef stroganoff , any suggestions?

Jack and I struggle with letting go

December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

I have trouble letting go of everything. Family. Friends. Boyfriend. I don't think I've made significant progress on any of those fronts this year. Although there is something I had to let go this year, that as trivial as it may seem to some, had quite an impact: the end of Lost. Why did I let it go? Because it made me.

Ironically, the finale of Lost is all about letting go, or better, moving on. Anyone who knows me knows that I get hooked on certain things and won't hear a bad word against them. Star Wars. The Godfather. Titanic. Harry Potter. When this happens I spend an inordinate amount of time reading, watching and listening to anything and everything I can about it. This was always true of Lost, but this May saw an especially embarrassing period of obsession. Articles, online videos, Times Talk, marathons—so much time was spent saying goodbye. But I believe it was all integral to the letting go process. It's my way of coping: excessive attention. I have been meaning to write my thoughts on the finale of Lost since it aired. I wanted to give it a second viewing before writing but I physically and emotionally could not bring myself to watch it again. And I couldn't do it until three months later. Even rewatching it after all that time took it out of me. I sat on the couch crying my eyes out, mourning the loss all over again.

What is it about Lost? Seven months later I still can't put my finger on it. I remember after my Dad passed away, thinking, man, he's never going to see the end of Lost. This upset me probably more than it should have. Plenty have called me crazy. plenty of questioned, even attacked, the show and its finale. My unabashed devotion remains though I've had to find new shows to fill its void. Modern Family, Glee and Boardwalk Empire are enjoyable and all but I know none will capture me the way Lost did.

And that's OK. As long as I accept what Lost creator, Damon Lindelof, tweeted the day after the show aired "Remember. Let go. Move on. I will miss it more than I can ever say."

Is it any wonder?

December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

Well my last entry was kind of a discussing of how I cultivated wonder this year. I returned to Europe to marvel at its splendors once again and see new sights. See aforementioned post for details. This still counts as blogging for the day.

Je me sens vivant!

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

The sun was filling the little square with the kind of golden light usually reserved for romantic comedies. I should have been annoyed with all the people who surrounded me, but their chatter, incessant photo taking, foreign tongues and giggling children had no effect on me for I was one of them today, as much as I'd like to deny it. I snagged a seat and took in the scene around me. A scene that brought back many memories—a church service, a steak, a missing aunt—but I was still able to simply enjoy the exact moment I was in. I took a bite of a perfectly flaky pain au chocolat that none in New York can even compare to and heaved a sigh. I had made it back to Paris.

I had woken up at 3 a.m., caught two buses, a cramped plane, the stupid RER and a dank metro and when I finally arrived, unwashed and bleary eyed, I had never felt less tired. I quickly dropped off my luggage and headed out, turned a corner and there she was, bathing in the bluish-gray morning light.

Years of dreaming and scheming to get back there had finally paid off. I breathed in the smell of French bread, early fall and garbage—it is just a city after all—and you could have punched me and nothing could the smile from my face. I made the short walk along the Seine toward the Île Saint-Louis and I was practically skipping. I made my way down the narrow cobblestone streets where Paris began and stumbled into a brightly lit bakery, pastries gleaming in the still-early morning light. I made my request and my french flowed out as if I had never once forgotten how to say "Merci" and I quickly made my way to the square in front of Notre Dame. I hadn't planned it to be my first stop but it was like a magnet; pulling me to the true center of the city in order to welcome me back. It is where the above moment took place, me on a bench breathing in the beauty of the scene, enjoying my pastry and feeling satisfied, giddy, content and more alive than I'd felt in months.

Writing for a living...

December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?

There is so much that contributes to my inability to write for myself. The easy answer is exhaustion. I write and edit all day. Yes, this is what I always wanted to do. I did everything in my power to make sure that I was able to write for a living. But writing in my current job exhausts me instead of exalts me. Not that it is difficult—I write the same four stories over and over again—a foodservice operation got renovated, is going green, is raising prices or increasing menu/grab-and-go options. The idea is that since I write about these things all day, it should make me want to take the time to write about things I enjoy even more. Doesn't happen. I get home and the last thing in the world I want to do is write.

Instead I turn on my old friend TV—another large impediment to my writing. Man, I love TV. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Some say we are in a Golden Age of television and I agree in many regards and do my part to support it. I should take my love of TV and take it to this blog. I want to start writing recaps of my shows, like the ones I enjoy reading so much. So why haven't I? Pure laziness? Absolutely. But there’s something else . . .

There is the worry that no one will read it. Terrified that people will and not like it. My pal talked about her fear of writing in her post today and I can completely relate. I fear writing for myself because I care so much. I hate when I write something on my own time that doesn't make me proud, unlike the writing I currently do for a paycheck. I accept that my creative license at work is limited by my publication's voice. My boss constantly tells me to be less "cute/clever/funny/ alliterative" in my writing. It squashes all the pleasure out of writing at work that now I fear my creativity has been stamped out of me at home too. I read stuff I wrote awhile ago and can feel proud that I was able to get a little of myself in there. Now it's tougher to remember what "my" voice is.

How can I remedy this? Well the TV one is easy—I will write during commercials. You thought I'd say I'd turn it off...never! The laziness I'm working on by participating in this blogging-once-a-day business. I’m hoping it makes writing into a habit, like checking my Google Reader. As for the fear, I'm not quite sure I want it to go away. It makes me try . . . try to be better . . . try to be consistent . . . and try harder to write in a way that makes me proud.

One word

A post a day to reflect on the year by answering daily prompts from here. I failed miserably at this last year. But I want to write every day so badly! My laziness always seems to get the better of me. So I'll give it a go again. I won't do as well as her but in the immortal words of The Joker, here...we...go!

December 1
One Word.
Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

Way to start this off with an impossible task. Encapsulate your entire year in one measly word. Especially this year. It's been a tough one. But choosing the word "tough" would make me seem like a negative Nancy.

So what do you do when things get tough? You rebound. But that makes it seem like I've been taking a lot of meaningless steps toward something. So what's a happier version of rebound?

...(checks thesaurus)...

heal
rejuvenate
boomerang
no...

RALLY
1. to muster for a common purpose
2. to recall to order
3. recover, rebound
4. to come together again

I like it. It fits in many ways.

I watched friends get married and engaged. I rallied (see last provided definition) for those events and loved every second of them.

I traveled to London and Paris on my own. It wasn't a smart financial move. But it felt absolutely necessary to my recovery. To my ability to rally for all the rest.

And elephant in the room of this year—I lost my dad.
One year ago last month. I haven't recovered. I haven't forgotten. But I rallied. And I made it.

Chatting . . . with Alison Peterson

Slow summer, yes. But this needs to be shared:

Background: Our DVR has been messing up and just recording blackness.

Lindsey: The DVR messed up everything last night. I rebooted it and hopefully that will help.
Alison: Ok, I can take a look too. Crazy DVR.
Lindsey: It's probably mad we've been watching dvd and now it's rebelling.
Alison: It's only natural to feel threatened.
Lindsey: Plus, DVD slept with DVR and never called again. Betrayal.
Alison: hahaha. technological romance.

Lindsey: haha. dvd is sick of being on top. i foresee a torrid romance. one interrupted by router and/or speakers.
Alison: hahaha. DVR complains that DVD isn't innovative enough.
Lindsey: plus dvd is always sticking its tray out.
Alison: sometimes prematurely.
Lindsey: bahahahaha
Alison: dvr is sick of dvd's insecurities. dvd is threatened by blu-ray.
Lindsey: dvd remembers when vcr left him. he's insecure. there was a time they worked as a team. then it all fell apart.
Alison: It's a wound that will take awhile to heal. dvr has seen laptop hanging around. begging to be "plugged in." everyone's insecure.
Lindsey: hahahaha. laptop and tv have a new thing going. dvd is jealous of that too. it's new though, so they are still feeling each other out.
Alison: hahaha. lots of new emotions. new techniques. love is a battlefield.
Lindsey: haha. which cd player plays sadly in the background.
Alison: hahahaha. while itunes plays the sharper remix version.

...
Alison: the laptop has lit a newspaper on fire. a riot has broken out.
Lindsey: bahahahaha. books jump out the window.
Alison: hahaha. there's a skeleton of a radio.
Lindsey: haha. with a bottle of poison leaning against it.

Wow

Sex and the City 2

It's never a good sign when the announcement of a sequel inspires a groan rather than a squeal. I accepted the first movie for what it was—an excuse to revisit old friends and finally marry that reluctant bride Carrie off. It had its moments. See review here.

But I was done. As much as I enjoyed the show, the big screen wasn't doing it any favors. So it was with a heavy heart that I processed the fact that another one was on its way. Now that it has arrived, I'd beg and plead for the cast and crew to stop killing a show that was cherished by so many.

The film starts with a wedding between Stanford and Anthony. The only gay recurring characters so they naturally could only find happiness with each other—the characters' series-long hatred of each other somehow forgotten. I can't bear to go into detail about the scenes at the wedding but to note that they descend into ridiculous camp (Oh hey, Liza) way too quickly. The wedding serves to push the plot that every couple is different and can make up its own rules. This leads to the revelation that Big has become a bit of a homebody as the years have progressed and this upsets Carrie. The solution (according to Big) is to separate from his wife for two days a week. Now, we've watched Carrie and Big for 12 years. I just don't buy that this is an actual problem in their relationship. They have both put each other through the ringer and now their be-all end-all problem is that Big bought a TV for their anniversary and not a ridiculous piece of jewelry? Be happy he didn't buy you a bejeweled duck purse again.

Meanwhile Miranda is suffering under a chauvinist boss, Charlotte is realizing her quest for kids comes with a heavy price (a ruined vintage Valentino to be specific) and Samantha has actually regressed as a character into a full on caricature of her season one self. In the guise of shaking things up, Samantha sets up an all-expenses paid trip to Abu Dhabi. What an idea? Let's put these girls in the Middle East. Hilarity! Hijinks!

What really happens is a complete disrespect of a culture much older than ours. Somehow as long as the shoulders are covered (or one shoulder in Carrie's case), the breasts must be able to heave freely. I had read that the filmmakers’ goal with the film was a complete fantasy. Extravagant clothes, cars and fun. What's missing is any sense of caring for the characters or feeling anything but appalled at how this franchise has devolved into such a materialistic charade. Sure, clothes, shoes and shopping were a part of the TV show. But, in my opinion, a very small part of what made the show great. It was the relationship between these four women playing off their individual relationships with their respective others that kept my interest during six seasons. The first movie at least showed actual emotion—Carrie breaking down in the bathroom after being jilted at the alter. I felt nothing of the sort this time around. Even when my personal favorite of the many men (Aiden) shows up to ogle. The closest it came to showing anything real is after Charlotte, ignoring her kids while on the phone, is the victim of red paint on her vintage skirt. She shuts herself into the pantry for one moment of escape and tears. I have no kids, but I can imagine many mothers might have these breakdowns at some point. Though it's unclear if she's more upset about her skirt being ruined than the hardships of being a mother.

A long made defense of the movies (and the show to some extent) is that they are just silly fun. That's fine. I had a "good" time watching it. I had a great night out with an old friend with the hope of watching some other old friends. It's only later when I think about where this franchise has taken us that the disappointment washes over me . As a fan of the show, I'll again pray that these movies are done. Let the show rest in peace and on DVD where better writing and emotion can stay safe. You won't find it in this film. You'll just witness the sad fact that whatever joy that was once found in watching these women has been squeezed out by a desire to sell products—be it an HP computer or marriage itself.