valerie’s Neighborhood

This will probably be my last post before I head out to spend a few days at the bottom of a big hole.

Grand Canyon

The weather is supposed to get cold and rainy/snowy on the Rim, with a 20% chance of rain at the bottom. If by any chance you want to follow my weather patterns, here's a link.

I think I'll stick with my original packing plan, maybe throw in some fleece pj bottoms and wear one of my light ski jackets instead of a spring jacket. Best to stick with light layers. The ski jacket is pretty much just a shell, but it's more wind and rain proof than my other jacket.

The beauty of it all is that we're staying in a cabin, bedding and toiletries provided, meals are included, etc. I'm not sure what I'll end up doing down there, but I can guarantee it won't be thinking about work, my schedule, etc.

Because this isn't a normal walk in the park, I'm also going to call MomH before I head down. Someone died yesterday on the same trail we'll be using to get out. Sure, he was an older gentleman, but you never know. I'm not sure what happened. When BrownAmazon was out here and we tried to go down the trail, some crazy chick in flipflops hit a patch of ice and I thought she was going to knock me over the edge. So I'll be careful, I promise.

Slippery Slope

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I'll post again on Sunday with pictures! Yay!

I can't make it to the gym. The amount of time I have is so limited that I would have to go at night. I suppose I could do that, but I'd rather hang out with Jon and the dogs. So in an effort to (1) be healthy, (2) keep weight off, and (3) practice non-violence through Ahimsa, I am going to take dairy off the menu.

I Love Cheese.

I LOVE Cheese.

I LOVE CHEESE!!!!!!!!!

Oh well. Some people love heroin but that doesn't make it good for you.

Also...I LOVE CHOCOLATE

So now I'm a dark chocolate fan forever more.

The above will be the greatest challenge.

In other news I have my first therapy appointment today. I plan to discuss two issues: the first will be my reaction to relationship stress. Guess what! Now I'm a jealous girlfriend. I never ever ever used to be but that's what divorce and infidelity will do to a woman. Keep in mind that I'm not insane and controlling over it. Not once have I asked Jon to refrain from hanging out with someone..really the whole thing has not effected him except that he has to deal with my internal misery. I am positive this is back lash from Tommy and also abandonment issues in relation to my family. Secondly, I seem to get really excited and balls out about a career path or decision...but then I freeze. Take school for instance: I make decent grades but I am frozen when it comes to committing myself to the things that REALLY matter like the school paper. I need to work for it. I have to! Or I could work for the radio station. I'm making up excuses about it. For example, the paper's website is run by this pompous dude that's in my multi media class. When he speaks, I want to throw sharp, pointed objects at him. I don't want to work for him but I have to get over that.

It should be productive. Hopefully my therapist can guide me to a place where I can weed out the crap and let my confidence spread some roots.  

The poppy is an uncomplicated creature.  It has one color.  It is not parasitic or solitary.  It grows simply, and in groups, like schoolchildren.

But its symbolism is rich, with a magnitude that has spanned many countries, and many centuries.  For such a little flower it carries meanings that are vast and weary; that are eternal and quiet in the earth.

In Greece and Rome the poppy meant sleep and death - worlds beneath the cold eyelid.  Opium was extruded from its seeds and sleepy breaths colored ancient dens and palaces.  Poppies decorated the tombstones of their dead, welcoming the lengthy sleep.  In Persian literature, the poppy is called the eternal flower - for emotions unrelenting and without end; for loyalty without limit.

The poppy fields in The Wizard of Oz were billowing and fearsome, promising an everlasting sleep.  In Egypt opium was daubed on the neck and wrists like a hypnotic perfume.

It wasn't until 1915 that the significance of the little red flower passed into Europe as well, when the ground was already red.  Towards the end of the year a poem was published - a trifle sentimental, a little maudlin, as most affairs of the heart are - and its beginning is familiar:

"In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row...

The fragrant drops of blood growing amongst the white purity must have been a shocking sight to the soldier; in a poem it might be less awful but no less meaningful.  The poppy had become a part of their spoiled landscape.

"That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below

1915 was a terrible year.  Gallipoli - Ypres - Nueve Chapelle - Loos - The Battles of the Isonzo...the poppies must have shuddered in the stinging breeze.

"We are the dead.  Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields

When the war was over, and the hardness and the bitternress had set in, the poppy had adopted another symbol - the four blasted years that had called the Edwardians in from their play, that had rubbed the gilt off the lily.  Its brave, bloody image was burnt on the dying soldier's eyes.

On Veteran's Dan/Remembrance Day the popppy is worn, sewn into wreaths, displayed in houses (Aubrey does this):  it is still held high.

"Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields"

Here Lies A Soldier...

After looking through old photos of myself and my sibs when we were kids, I have come to the conclusion that we must have worn the most ridiculous, daggy swimmers you could ever hope (not) to see.

Now I myself only saw my mother sew once, when she sewed my bridesmaid doll a dress and cape. But these definitely have a home sewn look to them. And we seemed to wear them for years.

Take me here for instance. Determined to get to the beach. And nothin', not even those baggy daggy swimmers is going to stop me. I mean mother, you could've taken in the legs a little. I bet if I keep looking I'll see one of my sisters wearing these before I got them. Probably both of them.

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And one of my favourite photos. Emjay, the oldest, with our brother and sister. Sporting a very unfashionable blue suit with a matching home done fringe trim.

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And here she is again, what maybe a couple of years later, still wearing it.

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Move forward another couple of years and my other sister is now wearing it and Emjay has a much nicer, yet still loose fitting pair of swimmers on. As you can see I'm still wearing the same pair I had on in the beginning. Because I had penty of room to grow into.

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OMFG. And I was right. Even though I was only half joking. Here is Min, wearing my baggy pink swimmers. I wonder if I ever owned a new pair.

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I have this vision of my mother, searching through her wardrobe every year the day before we went on our summer holidays, pulling out a bag full of atrocious old faded swimmers and handing us each a pair. Mind you it wouldn't have been a very full bag. We seemed to last through our childhoods with three of four pairs between us.

Is because I have that same wall clock. It's super fun. It takes people a while to realize it's a clock and then they think it's pretty darn cool.

Thanks, MomH for the great (years ago) Christmas gift!

Purrformance-art

It's National Adoption Week. I found out by accident; for my family every week is Adoption Week! I came across this article on Google News. The article talks about the complex reality of adoption:

The British Association of Adoption and Fostering (BAAF) has published information today stating that one in every three parents looking to adopt would not consider a child born out of a pregnancy that included alcohol or drug abuse by the mother. This view on adoption is troubling given that nearly half of children in the U.K. that need adopted families originate from homes where drugs and alcohol were abused.

With National Adoption Week beginning today, BAAF wants to place an emphasis on steering prospective parents out of a fantasized ideal of adoption and into today’s modern reality of adoption. (Bolding mine.)

I don't blame adoptive parents for wanting a baby with a "clean slate". Raising a child with special needs, be that a disability or a troubled past, is heartbreaking and difficult. But the idea that a "baggage-less" adopted child  will be just like a biological child is a fantasy. Every adopted child has a past:

Genetic ties and shared history can never be severed. An adopted child and their new family must always live with that difference.

YES. I want every person who has any contact with an adopted child or their family to understand that. I want people to understand that adoption is a beautiful and wonderful thing, but that it ain't perfect. Adoption is born out of hope, but it's also a connection forged out of the grief of parents: birth parents who have to give up a child and many adoptive parents who are unable to concieve. Adoption changes everything you know about family and genetics and love. I want people who know my family to acknowlege that. Don't put adoption or my family on a pedestal.

"Adoption is such a miraculous process!" Yes it is, but so is having a biological child, and that is messy and scary and frustrating while also being joyful and more fulfilling than anything else in the world.

Happy Adoption Week to everyone touched by adoption. God preserve all of us! :) 

It's people like this guy, Dan Pfeiffer (just named White House communications director), who make me wonder what I've been doing with my career-slash-life:

Mr. Pfeiffer, 33, is also a longtime Democratic strategist with experience working for some of the biggest names in the Democratic Party. He served as communications director for Mr. Obama’s presidential campaign, the communications director for Al Gore’s presidential campaign in 2000 and was an aide to Tom Daschle, the former South Dakota senator who was majority leader. He is married to Sarah Feinberg, a top aide to Rahm Emanuel, the White House chief of staff. - http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/10/dunn-leaves-white-house-communications-post/?hp

In 2000! He was 24 years old in 2000! Maybe I should start by not posting on my blog at work...

I love this slouchy, relaxed yet hip look from Lucky Magazine's Look of the Day from September 30th.

look of the day, lucky magazine

In case anybody missed the article in the NY Times on Sunday, Rent the Runway details a fantastic new business: renting high-end dresses, all done via the web and your mailbox. This invitation-only service was started by two recent Harvard Business School grads, Jennifer Hyman and Jennifer Carter Fleiss. See for yourself!

The rentals run $50 to $200 for a four-night loan and are shipped directly to the customer’s doorstep. After wearing the dress, she puts it into a prepaid envelope and drops it in the mail. Dry cleaning is included in the price, but damage insurance costs $5, and in the case of outright destruction of the dress, the renter is responsible for the full retail price.

Rent the Runway is a recession-era twist on the Internet rent-by-mail model, which has been used for things like textbooks and video games in addition to movies. Unlike those utilitarian items, however, the dresses offer a touch of Cinderella — on a budget.

...

Ms. Hyman and Ms. Carter Fleiss said they had taken several steps to guard against service fiascos. For starters, they use a reservation system to ensure that a customer can get a specific dress for the night she needs it.

To assist with fitting, they have on-call stylists who can advise customers on how certain materials feel and how a particular dress might hang on various body types. In addition, the site offers returns within 24 hours for any reason and will include an extra size of a first dress at no additional cost.

Customers who want to be extra-safe can choose a second style as a backup, for an additional $25. And all dresses come with a custom garment bag and a “fit kit,” which includes double-sided tape, bra strap adjusters and deodorant stain removers.

This sounds like a cross between Netflix and Bag, Borrow or Steal. Could be very cool.

Buh.  I don't feel like doing a recap.  I don't think anything real interesting happened over the course of these past few days anyhow.

I did however, go out to eat Korean food with my mother the other day.  I think the entire Korean population in Utah was at that restaurant.  Both she and I were a bit weirded out about it cuz we had gotten so used to being around white people all the time.

I also ripped open a crab in front of people at Kevin and Eli's, and now everyone thinks I'm hardcore or something.  Hellz yeah.

I might go to the Countdown For Change rally at Matheson's office on Friday.  Shaaaaame!  SHAAAAAAME! On Matheson for voting against the public option.

I want another house plant.