Wednesday, March 21, 2007


I'm a bit of a romantic. Sometimes I seek romance in really silly ways. I boil water in a teapot, even though I could save a lot of time in the morning by just using the microwave. Microwaves are not romantic. I don't have a coffee pot, but if I did, it would be a french press. I sing while I do my dishes. These are all small things, but they help in the end.

And yet, there are always the things that seem romantic but are actually romantic fallacies. Running in the rain is one of these. Maybe it's the movies - we always see lovers running in downpours, trying to catch the one that got away, to finally grab them and kiss passionately. Even if they're running to catch a bus and they miss it, it's still that much more romantic because it's raining. But running in the rain for the sake of exercise, starting at one point and making a circle, plodding along with no real change of pace...well, it's not romantic. It's wet. It makes your eyelashes start to stick together. It turns any bare skin into a weird shade of red. If it doesn't make you cold, it makes you feel like your own personal jungle. All this from a mere drizzle.

There is hope though. On one typical spring afternoon about a year ago, one with typically unpredictable weather, the sun came out and I saw my window to go for a run. Of course, the rain started again at my furthest point from home. I begrudgingly kept going, did I really have a choice? As I neared my apartment feeling moist and annoyed, the sun came, full and bright. Immediately I looked for the rainbow, and there it was - a full arch over downtown St. Paul. And I ran straight for it with a huge smile on my face, looking like a big goon. It took me a few seconds to realize that "Walking on Sunshine" was playing on my ipod, which made it all the more perfect.

So what if it wasn't raining then? That is romance.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007


Sometimes there's nothing worse than yearning to update this and feeling like I have nothing to write about.

I have been listening to a lot of Joanna Newsom. But mostly "Cosmia" and "Only Skin."

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever stop loving spinach.

I used to love the color purple. Then it was red. Now I am all about green.

I am writing letters in my head. Some are angry, some are nostalgic, and the rest haven't been written yet.

It's that whole block thing.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

in with the new.

I didn't get my first car until I was 22 and starting grad school. It was a 1990 Honda Accord, black with a manual transmission and a sunroof. In a way, I learned how to drive on that car, as I had never driven a stick shift before. It was trying at first, and an incident on a hill left me with hill anxiety for over a year, but now I've come to prefer manual transmissions.

Anyway, the car that was only supposed to get me through grad school ended up hanging around for almost three years. As the months went by it got rustier, it started making more noises, it lost its musical soul, and little insignificant things stopped working. But it always started, even on the coldest Minnesota days. When it didn't start one day after work in December, I knew that after so much procrastination it was about time to start looking for a newer car. And as I later watched my car get towed to the mechanic, I felt a twinge of nostalgia as it looked so sad and helpless on the tow truck. I would miss it.

Well, I finally got a new (used) car. A 2005 Hyundai Elantra. It's light gold (not the best color, but oh well), five speed, and has a cd player. I've been driving it around for four days now, running many errands and listening to many CDs. (Oh my gosh! Stereo!) It drives well, it's fun, and it has a remote control key! So many things my old car didn't have.

So when I drove my old Honda to my parent's house (what to do with it is to be determined at a later date), I realized maybe I won't miss it so much. I won't miss the rusty bumpers, I won't miss the spark plug that kept falling out, I won't miss the hole where a stereo should have been. I will miss the sunroof, ah, the sunroof. I will miss the fleeting feeling that an old rusty car felt more my style than a much newer and shinier one.

Really, nothing reminds you more of the impending doom of adulthood more than spending thousands of dollars on something to get you around.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

snow weekend.

With winter almost over, I finally experienced winter like I should have been doing all winter. (Only there was that lack of snow problem.) On Friday night I broke in my brand new $15 sled at Como Park. And I really broke it now has a crack in it! Sheesh. I thought it was expensive, and then it breaks?

Today I did something pretty monumental: I used my cross country skis for the first time in seven years. You see, nordic skiing was a huge part of my life all through middle and high school - I was on the ski team for six years, 7th grade up to senior year. I was consistently a junior varsity skier even though my team won the state title a few times. (Hey! I helped cheer them on! That counts for something.)

As significant and memorable as that time was, I somehow managed to keep my skis shelved for ages. So when I put my boots in the bindings today I was a little nervous...but it would be like riding a bike, right? I was a little awkward at first, and the hill was tough, but soon I was remembering different techniques. By the end of my first lap around the course, I was feeling more confident. More polished. In fact, I felt...graceful. I was a skier. And then...I fell right on my butt. It hurt both my body and my temporarily inflated self esteem.

I didn't ski for too much longer after that. (It's hard work, yo!) And now that I officially feel Minnesotan again....I can't wait for spring.

Friday, March 02, 2007

snow day.

It finally happened, the thing we all thought would never happen: my school district canceled school because of the weather. We dreamed, we hemmed and hawed, we made plans for what we would do if it happened and what we would do if it didn't. And then came the call: NO SCHOOL! They decided some time last night. Oh, sweet, glorious, weather inflicted three day weekend! And the funny thing is, the roads didn't even seem that bad today.

Part of the beauty of the unexpected day off is that it is rife with possibility. Oh, the things I could accomplish today! I could send care packages, finish books, start writing books, thoroughly clean my apartment, and maybe even cure cancer! Or I could sleep until 11, go work on school crap at the coffee shop, and make cookies. I guess the day wasn't a total loss, but I always feel like I could have done more. But there's still time for sledding and other fun. Hooray!

Funny link of the day: Switzerland Accidentally Invades Liechtenstein.