Surprise!

Today the gift of an epiphany star came to me as I sat on a hard, wooden pew with my head throbbing. The headache (which is still not entirely gone) had been so bad as my mom and I were getting ready to get in the car that I'd almost turned back. It seems that I find myself increasingly headache prone these days, which is particularly annoying considering that there was a time when it was a rarity for me to get one. To the inventor of chocolate, you have my highest regards. To the inventor of headaches, I offer simply the infamous Italianate chin flicking gesture.

Whether head throbbing came from stress, the onset of a cold (or is it catarrh???), or having slept wrong (how does that happen? it seems that if there's one thing that should be pretty fool proof, it's sleeping) is still unclear. Whatever the cause was, my head hurt so bad that it woke me up at an ungodly hour this morning. And that hurt so bad that I really was in no mood to go anywhere when 10:30 rolled around. Somehow (mostly because my mother was obviously keen to go, but being so gracious about potentially not going), I managed to drag my sorry self into the car and then into church, where I found myself sitting on said pew as epiphany stars were being handed out.

Each of these stars is inscribed with a word. My word for the year is "surprise". As it turned out, I did find myself feeling surprised at how good it felt to be there despite feeling bad. There was such a light, pleasant mood today - a mood I would never have even begun to approach, had I followed my inclination to burrow under a blanket like a very large rodent.

And so, I've spent the hours since thinking about surprises and how easily a small shift in attitude can change a situation about which we're experiencing dread, fear or even just ambivalence into one that can actually be enjoyed. It makes me think of all the ways in which we might surprise ourselves, if we took the time to (as Mark Twain wrote): "...throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

For today, that is the meaning of my epiphany star, but who knows? Maybe when the year has passed I will be surprised to find that it wasn't that at all. But if it is and if I can manage to "sail", I don't think I will regret it.

Guten Abend, Gut' Nacht

Dashiell Winn
Originally uploaded by Martina.

Promises have been made. Only a few short days ago, a post a day was vowed. Luckily for me the size and quality of said posts were never negotiated, which gives me a good out on a day when I've been busy and find myself feeling too tired to think (let alone write) too much.

Now I am home and preparing to go to bed (or at least to couch, where I will read a little Libba Bray in the futile hope that it will keep me awake until SNL starts). First, however, this post must be written, because I have managed to guilt myself into keeping my word.

Undesirable duties of the morning (work, errands) notwithstanding, it's been a nice, cozy afternoon of movie watching ("Gandhi" - if you haven't seen it, you should!), dinner and discussion. It's such an incredible movie, but I really am too tired to do it any justice here now. Suffice it to say that Ben Kingsley is amazing and that the life and philosophies of Gandhi are fascinating and worth deep consideration.

As if Gandhi weren't good enough, my library copy of "Arsenic & Old Lace" was waiting for me today when I stopped by my branch. It's such a lovable movie. Did you know Ronald Reagan was offered the part of Mortimer Brewster and turned it down? It's true! It's difficult to imagine the film being as charming as it is without Cary Grant.

In other exciting film news, not only was "Arsenic" waiting for me at the circulation desk, but also Season 1 of "Angel". This is particularly good news as it will allow me to further develop my theories on who would win in a Johnny Depp vs. James Marsters hot off. This study is, of course, purely for academic interest and offers me no personal enjoyment. I just hope that Hugh Jackman doesn't complicate things by throwing his hat into the tring.

Oh, dear. It is a long fall from the nobility of Mohandas Gandhi to hot offs. I really am tired. I do believe it IS time take a page* from the book of the adorable Dashiell Winn (pictured above).

*Note: This page is the one wherein he cuddles adorably under a blanket, not the one wherein he gets to know his catnip pillow, then splays himself on the floor all strung out and drooly. I only do that on party nights...

Of the Old and the Beautiful

One of my most prized possessions is also one of the rattiest looking. It is an ugly, brown book that is waterstained, its pages fragile and greying with age. It shows the scars of almost 300 years worth of existence. Frankly, it does not look well loved, yet I love it.

What makes the book so special to me is the the three centuries worth of hands that have touched it. The book, which is a German collection of sermons for Sundays and high holy days, was published in 1708. It has all sorts of handwritten notes on its cover In 1790 someone signed and dated his name on one of the fly pages. There is, in fact, quite a bit of writing on the fly pages and endpapers. Somewhere over the years someone also left behind a scrap of a letter as a book mark. It is difficult to tell just how old the scrap is, but it's clearly old as it's written in a script no that died in Germany before my grandmother was born and is the faded brown of old fountain ink. It is a powerful thing to hold in one's hands an object that has seen so many history and been held by other hands with so many stories of their own.

It is these traces of humanity that are my favorite parts of this book. To think that I am in some way bound to these people who long ago touched, read and internalized the contents this object is an overwhelming epiphany. It is in some ways as though by touching the imprint they've left, I am touching them. Really, this is why I love books so much in general. People like to think of reading as a passive activity, but really it is not. It is a dialogue that is thoroughly active for the mind and sometimes even soul.

Through story we are connected to the imprint of author and to worlds of which we are not a part, yet somehow we become a part of them. In reading words (also viewing art, hearing music) we have the privilege of being privy to the imagination and inner workings of another, which thereby sparks our own imaginations. It is in entering into this dialogue that books (and art and music) connect us. Our shared stories connect us. And that, my friends, is why I love books so much. Studying literature and ideas is studying people and we are an interesting lot.

Conclusory note: There are those who will think these thoughts cheesy. If it must be so, let them (the thoughts, not the people) be something good like Roquefort or Havarti and not some crappy brick of Velveeta or jar of Cheese Whiz, though I guess for that it would have to be "cheesy" and not cheesy.

Note 2: In that last sentence, "Studying literature and ideas is studying people and we are an interesting lot", I have just had what is turning out to be a "What do I want to be when I grow up?" epiphany of sorts. All is not yet unravelled, but perhaps some of the fog is lifting. Go me!

Yuck Certified

Today has been one of those completely craptacular days that could put a girl in peril of forgetting how good her life really is! The worst thing is that the stress started even before I woke up. After a night of dreadfully depressing dreams, I woke up feeling like I'd been crying and was about to cry some more. Then, within a half an hour of waking up Ruby had a seizure.

Poor little noodle. I think she knows when one is coming on, because she usually comes to get me. Today was no exception. As I was checking my mail, she came at me from under the desk, trying to put her head in my lap. Generally a docile, unassuming dog, Ruby becomes very clingy just before a seizure. Her insistence on wanting attention ensured that I knew something was up even before she started to lose her balance. It's sweet, really, like she thinks I can protect her from what is about to happen. I can't protect her from seizures once they start, but I did manage to get down on the floor with her just in time for her to stumble into my lap. After that, all I could do was hold and pet her while she shook.

The thing about seizures is that they feel like they're going on forever, even when only a few minutes have passed. This episode lasted about 6 minutes total. The other animals are so sweet when she has them. Baxter hung around like a nervous parent, sniffing her and tentatively thumping his tail, while Toby just stood back watching. Once it was all over, Ruby was up and wanting to go outside to play. I swear they stress me out far more than they do her. Thankfully, she doesn't have them too very often. I know other people and animals who are a lot worse off.

Seizure over, before I knew it, it was past time to go to work. Even sacrificing a badly needed stop at Starbucks, I barely made it. Frankly, there was so much commotion that I don't think anyone would have noticed had I actually been late.

I arrived to a mailbox filled with a string of snarky e-mails between my boss and another department head, who we are assisting with a project. Working with her department is always a challenge as they have a tendency to ask for help, downplay what our role will be, then dump mounds of crap (seriously, it's CRAP - all the complicated, messed up things they can't figure out) on us, while they keep the easy tasks for themselves. Once the dust settled (insofar as it settles lately - these days my department is like a giant dust bowl), we'd inherited not only 300 accounts that need analysing, but 300 accounts that one of her employees had sat on for a month, which means lots of calls to irate people who have had a month to stew over their problems, because no one has bothered to help them. The worst part of it all is that none of this is actually my job (thank God); it's just a favor my department is doing for theirs.

Needless to say, the whole thing causes a lot of tension in my office. My boss is stressed and conflicted, because she doesn't like what the other department is doing, but is too politically correct to stand up for herself and call shenanigans. My coworkers are stressed and annoyed because we're being asked to do something that is so foreign to what we usually do and definitely NOT what any of us signed on for. My boss does try to help, even offering to tackle the potentially nastier calls for us, but it all makes for a heavy atmosphere. It's a good thing I either get punchy (silly and prone to laughing at things that really aren't funny, not prone to punching people) or borderline narcoleptic when I'm stressed. For most of the day, I managed to keep a sense of humor, by thinking about my lunchtime walk (at least until it was thwarted by a bizarre, fast moving rain - hail - snow storm that lasted for precisely for the duration of my lunch). Once lunch was over, I wanted nothing more than to just go home and go to sleep.

The afternoon didn't go much better, though most of that was my own doing. The low-light was when I managed to thoroughly screw up a report by erroneously thinking that if I did a VLOOKUP on a filtered spreadsheet, it would only affect the visible part. Silly me. I ended up having to reconstruct about an hour and a half of lost work from memory. Then, driving home, looking at the lovely, pale, full moon made me think of someone whose memory makes me feel melancholy. Then, I managed to get into a totally unnecessary snark off with my mother via cell phone. Thanks to modern technology, I don't have to be physically present to get my grump on. Go Verizon!

Now it is 8 p.m. and I feel like it's about 2 a.m. I can't imagine doing anything more with my evening than maybe having a drink and going to bed. My soul feels pale and wraithlike, like if I looked in the mirror, I'd have the dark under eye circles of someone not accustomed life in the light. At this point, I just want a do over. At this point it's just best to go to bed knowing that tomorrow will be better. Oh yes, the end of the week is looking pretty good from my presently headachy and bleary eyed vantage point.

So, again I have not posted what I planned. Sometimes a person just needs to vent. Maybe tomorrow I'll get to that clever post that will make you all envious of my brilliance. For now, if you're still here, thanks for reading. I'm off to make a nice beverage and get lost in a book until I fall asleep.

11 Things

It is getting late (but feels much later). On day three of my month long blogging experiment, I find myself tempted to just skip it, but that would be breaking my unspoken and just invented New Year's resolution to be better about following through on things. That does not, however, remedy the problem at hand. What I really wanted to post is not quite ready, and I find myself too tired to finish it right now. Instead, bearing in mind my other secret resolution - to be more grateful for the good things in my life - here is a list of eleven things that make me feel good:


1) Sunsets (especially watching them sunset from Crown Point or at the beach on summer evenings)

2) Getting a new haircut and color

3) Gypsy violins

4) Reading a book that is so good that I can't put it down, even though it is almost 2 a.m. and I know I will be sorry when the alarm goes off in the morning

5) Receiving mail that is not a bill, advertisement or credit card/loan offer

6) The ocean

7) That warm feeling that radiates from inside when someone says "I love you"

8) That I have convinced a coworker that she should never get into her car to leave the parking lot without first doing a little dance outside my window. (We have a rating system from 1 to 10 with a cumulative score based on choreography, originality, and over all performance. I even have score cards. It's like hosting my own version of "So You Think You Can Dance" from my cubie.)

9) Hearing Toby the dog bark and howl on my answering machine message whenever I call home. It makes me laugh every time. Sometimes I call when I know no one's there just so I can hear him.

10) Being around people who make me laugh so hard the spot behind my ears starts to hurt (you know who you are!)

11) Sunny days when I can drive around with an open moonroof

A Day in Powellhurst

Welcome to blogstravaganza, my attempt to see if I can find 31 days worth of writing. It is Day 2. So far so good. I should probably save this for a day when I don't have six half-written posts saved, but here is a day in my life:

3:30ish - Wake up to a woman's voice calling my name. There is no one there but me (and a large, snoring dog), so I decide it must have been a dream and go back to sleep.

6:45 - Wake up again. Briefly contemplate getting out of bed, but decide in favor of snuggling down into the covers to go back to sleep for another 45 minutes.

7:30 - Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning. After a week off, I do not want to go back to work or even get out of bed. Luckily, the thought of my minty, new bar of Ice Blue soap (I love it even more than my former favorite, Demon in the Dark) from Lush draws me into the shower before I can think of a reason to call in sick.

7:45 - Put on my robe and step on the scale. My worst fears are confirmed. I am turning in to the Pillsbury Dough boy's taller, paler sister. My mood is immediately buoyed when I open the bathroom door to find three very excited dogs standing side by side in order of height, waiting for me to come out. While we have only been parted for about 15 minutes, they seem to think I've been gone for months. It is cause for copious wiggling and jubilation.

8:00 - I am in the garage looking for a suitable outfit to go with my adorable new shoes. I may not feel like going to work, but the first real day of 2007 will see me well shod.

8:15 - Toast an English muffin to share with Citizen R. This is what I am reduced to after the convivial atmosphere and pre-2007 gastronomic debauchery - muffin sharing.

8:45 - Leave for work. Spend the next 45 minutes singing with Ute Lemper and listening to the first of my second chance before consignment to the half.com resale bin cd's.

9:30 - Discover Mrs. M has left me a gift. Maybe returning to work is not so bad after all. I like gifts. This one is a 2007 calendar filled with castles in far away lands. It is like the 2006 castle calendar she gave me, but different.

9:35-11:00 - Boring work stuff. Highlights: 1) My favorite temp is back for a month. 2) My neighbor has set a date for her wedding in September and tells me to keep it open. Now everyone in my area but me will be married. I am undecided on whether this is good or bad. 3) The first e-mail I open is an irate homage to all the reasons why a woman in Iowa will never do business with us again. Frankly, if I were here, I wouldn't either. Her account was really jacked up, and my company did all the jacking itself. 4) After what feels like hours at my desk, I look at the clock and find it is only 10:30. All the time off has clearly spoiled me.

11:00 - While taking my morning break, I realize to my great joy that I now have 23 vacation/personal days at my disposal. I celebrate by asking for birthday week and Thanksgiving week off.

11:10 - 13:00 - More boring work stuff. It's busy, so the midday hours mercifully pass quickly.

13:40 - Discover that I have forgotten to bring along socks for my lunchtime walk. It is pouring rain. While my walking shoes are adorable and comfortable, they also have a lot of openings. Vow to exercise later today, then retire to the kitchen to heat a bowl of peanutty turkey noodle soup (so good!), catch up on reorg gossip, and read the last 40 pages of Charlaine Harris' Grave Sight.

14:00 - Distant coworker shows up with her new born baby. I am happy for her, but do not share my other coworkers' compulsion to drop everything to run and coo. Decide to stay in the lunchroom and read/work on some writing as I had planned, since I spent a good portion of the first half of my lunch chatting with the temp and then La Pretenziosa. Spend the next 10 minutes wondering if my lack of baby magnet means I'm a bad person. I think not. I actually do love kids and being around them. I just don't have that thing that a lot of women get around tiny babies.

14:40 - 16:00 - Even more boring work stuff.

16:00 - Sneak a peak at my library account to see if season 1 of Angel will be waiting for me tonight. It is still in transit. Briefly consider cursing the library, but realize that I love it, even if it does toy with my emotions.

16:10 - Realize that thinking about the library for this long cements my status as a massive nerd and go back to work. I start to become concerned that I will not be able to finish everything I need to get done today, but because I am fabulous, I do - with a half an hour to spare. This gives me time to take down the Christmas decorations in my area. As I am taking them down, I wonder what they would say if I erected an old school hollow holy family in my cubie next year. It would be crowded, but I think the room is there, It's probably not the best idea. Still, I make a mental note to revisit it next November.

18:00 - Lock up the building and head for home. It is one of those rainy nights that don't make me look forward to the long commute back to town, but with my Cabaret-Klezmer mix to cheer me on, I navigate the backroads and freeway safely, while singing along to Coin Operated Boy and other musical gems. When I'm not singing (i.e. in the case of the gypsy string songs), I imagine in my head how I would play them on the violin as I listen. Somehow this keeps me from freaking out about the slick roads, but still leaves enough of my attention available for me to drive carefully.

18:50 - Arrive at home and enjoy a dinner of ground turkey and blue cheese on a ciabatta role with a side of the pineapple casserole recipe I got from Wendy. I do believe I could live on Wendy's pineapple casserole.
19:30 - Check my e-mail. Even after all these months, I check out of habit when I first get home. There is nothing from him, but there is an interesting note from the hair goddess. She has a way of mailing me just when I've been thinking about her. My head needs repurpling. I make a mental note to give her a call later.

19:45 - Woo hoo, I've paid the last of my Itax online. A great burden lifts from my shoulders as the looming cloud of debtor's prison drifts away from my environs.

20:00 - Retire to the bathroom to take a bath and read. As I am soaking, I realize that I am a damn, dirty liar. I never did make up for the missed lunchtime walk. I am momentarily disappointed with myself, but then remember that I only promised to start with 3x a week and that I really did do an awesome job at staying on track with my diet today. I was not even tempted when L. (who also started a diet today) decided to make herself my dietary nemesis by trying to rid herself of a bag of Rollos by putting a large pile of them in the middle of my desk. Instead of eating them, I gave them to all the temp. This allowed me not only to stick to my plan, but also to be the kind of person who is nice to temporary employees.

21:00 - I am out of the bath, but still reading. The quiet is interrupted by a potential cat smack down. Sensing that there is trouble on his beat, Officer Baxter charges at Rudiger and Loki to break up the fight. As ist to be expected, Rudiger stands his ground while Loki flees. Baxter, who gives chase, is a bit overzealous, treating a threat level puce like it is a fuschia or even a magenta. I realize that if he were a real police officer, he'd be the sort who would smash your tail light just to have an excuse to give you ticket. Apparently my dog is an asshole.

21:43 - Log on to compose a post. I glance over at the couch to notice that Baxter is holding my library copy of Libba Bray's Rebel Angels neatly between his paws as he prepares to nibble at the cover. I am able to relieve him of it just in time.

21:45 - Respond to Jen's comments on my last two posts by accusing her of having a secret affinity for hippies, then spend the next 10 minutes contemplating minions. How does one get them? What would I do with them if I had them? Could they help me determine what I want to be when I grow up?

22:00 - Start working on blogstravaganza post #2

23:00 - Check to see if Jen is online, so we can chat for a few minutes. She is, alas, busy overseeing her magnet empire. Instead, I add a few links to my post.

23:30 - Retire to the couch to watch a South Park rerun (unless it is stupid, in which case I will read), then eventually go to sleep.

So, there you have it. A day. Not a special day, not an exciting day, just a Tuesday, but a day nevertheless.

Happy New Year!

One of the great things about my place of employment is the access to discounts for restaurants, movies and museums. New Year's Eve, my mom and I decided to take advantage of this perk and use it to visit Portland's Japanese Garden. One of Portland's many gems, the garden is the sort of place I always forget until chance takes me on a drive past its gates. Luckily, I was recently reminded of its presence as I was taking a stroll through Portland's Rose Gardens, which are conveniently located across the street.

Its design influenced by Shinto, Buddhist and Taoist philosophies, the Japanese gardens are restful and tranquil - the perfect sort of place to contemplate the passing of the old and the coming of the new. As we walked, talked, and sometimes just listened to the sound of the birds and running water, I found myself thinking about things I would like to accomplish this year. A friend of mine insists that being my fabulous self will set a lot of things right. While I do plan to embrace this plan, I have a few more specific things that I would like to accomplish in 2007, Year of Fabulousness:


1. Make time to meditate, pray, write, create something (it's all one, really) every day.

2. Make time to move every day (starting with 3x a week is okay)

3. Begin my "Going Places" photo project (a photo to represent something significant for each month of the year + extra photos for special occasions that will go into the 2007 album)

4. Embrace what life has to offer, "Don't die with your music still in you", Just Say Yes (a Jenvention, TM Jen, Inc.), etc.

5. Fight back, fun Martina! Let go, get over myself and just have FUN.

6. Treat myself just as well as I treat other people, because I am far meaner to myself than I would ever even think of being to anyone else.

7. Try something new at least once a month. (In light of this, I declare January Blogstravaganza month wherein I will attempt to post a day for 31 days.)

8. Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

There you have it. As with everything, these goals may be tweaked after more thought (some are, after all, pretty vague), but here they are as they apply today.

So, if you are still reading after all that, here is your pay off. You are my favorite. Really, you always were. Those other people who started reading and didn't finish, well, just between you and me, they should be banned or at least shunned. Let me tell you, if I were Amish, there'd be some shunning going on. But you, you're different. I could never shun you. You stayed, so I say to you: Happy New Year! May it be filled with all the abundance, happiness and love that your heart can carry!