Happy Christmas!

Hi Mom,

Merry Christmas! I miss you. I think that's it. I've been really a mess the past week - at least inside my head. I started crying during Elf!

I thought it would be easier this year. I really did. I thought that once we got through the first Christmas, the next one would be easier. It's just as hard. I think it might be harder. Last year I worked so hard to make it perfect. I wanted to relish in your memory and make it the greatest Christmas. You loved Christmas. Didn't you? Christmas Eve was your holiday. I wanted to keep that spirit and that memory alive. And maybe I broke down while watching some sappy chick flick on HBO, but I still made it through. I had the energy.

This year, though. This year I just want to curl up in a ball and pretend none of this is happening. I have so much to do today. And I don't want to do it any of it. All I can think about is how much I miss you. How much I just want you to be here and give me a hug. To tell me I'm doing okay and everything will be fine.

Everything seems wrong lately. But I thought about it - while listening to the Glee soundtrack and suddenly getting sad because you'd adore that show - I think I'm so frustrated because of you. I think it's you making me realize how much better I am than the job I'm in. It's you that made me pull the sewing machine out. It's you giving me the creativity to play with gluten free recipes. It's you that made me finally speak up for how unhappy I am at work. It's you making me reach out to family I have not talked to in years. (I have to ask though - is it you that keeps helping me do silly things like that time I tripped walking into a meeting? Because, well it's a little uncomfortable, but also hilarious. So thanks?)

I don't yet know how to make everything not wrong. I wish I could snap my fingers and make everything better. I wish it didn't hurt so much whenever I remember that you are not here. I get so scared that I'll forget you.

Let's make a deal - you keep reminding me to figure out how to make things right and not wallow in how wrong everything is and I'll get up and clean and make sure this is a great Christmas.

Okay.

Thanks. I miss you mom. I miss you everyday. I love you. I hope you know that.

Merry Christmas!

Love, Me.

This Saturday NIght

My Christmas shopping is sort of on it's way. I'm not horribly behind. But I feel disorganized. I'm not shopping tonight. Instead, I'm attempting to record Led Zeppelin's Coda album onto my computer from the original vinyl.

It's an interesting process. I'm not entirely sure how this is going. But if it works, I'll give it to my brother for his birthday tomorrow.

But here's what my Saturday night looks like.

Fancy this - a post

It's been some time. I am not entirely sure what I have to write about this morning. I've been working on getting my Christmas gifts all figured out and also figure myself out.

It's been an educational few weeks. A few months back I decided it was time to throw myself into trying to date again. I'm not whole heartedly into it. But I am so scared of it that I think I need to do it in order to overcome the terrifying feeling of talking to a strange guy. And I'm learning that I might be projecting an incredibly guarded image that is turning away those I'm attracted to. And I tend to attract people who I don't feel compatible with.

I realized after an unfortunate movie date (movie was great) that while I was happy to have the second date and go through that experience. That's all it was. Just another experience to check off and move forward. I had no interest in this person. Everything he said or expressed grated on me. I could have maybe given him more time, but I played sick and left. I just could not stand being around someone with a world view so divergent from me. I am not looking for someone who is exactly like me, but I wouldn't mind someone who at least viewed the world in a similar way. I have always had this belief that I can make an impact in this world and make it better (hence my decision to work in public interest law.) This guy had given up. And that to me is sad. He says he's a very happy person because he has such few expectations that when things go well, he's really happy. But that's not me. I like the feeling of anticipation and hope and even when I am occasionally crushed in defeat - it's so fun to have tried.

I realized that I need to live the way I want to live. I can't live afraid or nervous or focused on the negative. It took this non-important event to make me realize that I need to change that. I need to really remember what it is I enjoy about life. And be the genuinely happy person I want to be. And I think I am. I need to start projecting that.

I'll deal with any post date aftermath as it comes. I am a little worried at the fact that his work brings him to my place of work occasionally. But hopefully he got a clue yesterday and if not, I'll just have to be honest.

Or get a new job. Which is actually not a bad idea since I am so anti my current job right now.

But that's that. From this moment on, I choose to embrace happiness. At least keep telling myself that I can be happy and I can keep dreaming to make things better.

And a picture - I saw Rent a few weeks back. And I think that a picture of when I saw that show is probably fitting for a post about hope and living each day.

and the slacker rears her head

I am a slacker right now. I was very not all there last week. And I'm trying to re-focus my energies. This time of year is chaos for me (as well as the rest of the universe.) I am determined to bring back my creative energies and get some projects done around the house.

I'm also determined to not be shopping everyday of December. I think I have a few gift ideas planned and I need to just carry them out. Magazine subscriptions for the youngsters, perhaps a couple day trips here and there, and the knitting. Oh good god, the knitting... I have decided to call it the month of knitting dangerously - you can follow along here.

I'm already behind.

This weekend though, I went with my dad to a 50th Wedding Anniversary. And if anything could make this cynical girl shed a tear - it was listening to the groom announce his neverending love for his bride. As he put it "we're still riding in that car." Beautiful. My dad had a tough time working up the strength to go to this shinding. He did NOTHING for a few days. But this is him looking dapper in poor lighting. The photo was taken with my iPhone. So forgive me!!!

Then on Sunday, I saw Rent. With Jess. She's quoting a lot again. As am I. I'm also waking up with such questions as did Benny actually love Mimi or was it all about power? And why am I such a Mark with a dash of Roger thrown in? But who would I want to be? Probably Angel.

But, then those heels really would not work well with my plantar fascitis issues...

merry christmas...

ugh... why is it already christmas?

oops -

I forgot to post pictures that past few days. I have taken some - but they aren't the greatest. I'm sort of at a loss for words right now so I will leave you with a shot of what is likely the last yellow rose of the year.




and my niece Anna jumping rope in the magic hour of outdoor light...



And lastly - a great book for everyone to read. It's Awesome.

birthday "mehs"

today is my birthday. i turn the ripe old age of 32. actually i really have no problem with the age. i personally think it's a great time to be in my thirties and that, well, my twenties were a ridiculous time with lots of personal issues and my thirties started out a little shaky - but seriously it can only get better. right?

but, today i went into new york city with my little cousin - who is well not so little, she's going to be 21 in just a couple weeks. we had no agenda except to maybe check out the TKTS booth for what was half price and grab me a gluten free cupcake at Babycakes NYC. we ended up saying no to a show since the weather was great for just walking and wandering and i DID have my camera with me. so that's what we did.

it was a good day. i got my gluten free cupcake (mocha - soooooo good) and i played with my camera and left the city very calm and relaxed. really - a good birthday.

but, it's just a weird day. it doesn't feel like my birthday. my dad is slightly ornery. my brothers are unable to commit to a day to have cake together. and i don't really want to make a big deal. but now i'm having dinner at one house on one night and another house on another. which is fine. i do want to make everyone happy - but at the same time... it's my damn birthday. make me happy! i know that at times i have ridiculous expectations. and i'm trying to breathe in, breathe out and let it all go. and have faith the universe will look out for me.

because, well, i'm done. i'm done with getting upset because it feels like everything is too difficult. i'm done with being sad that things don't work out the way envisioned.

so, my intention for this 33rd year of life is to have faith in the universe and accept that sometimes, things are what they are. and they work out the way they are meant to be. it's not easy for me to do. i do not live that way. i can sometimes be a cynical bastard that views her personal life negatively and assumes it won't work out. but that takes a lot of energy and i need my energy for important things - like taking pictures, seeking out live music, knitting, obsessively listening to west side story and rent, and reading all the damn books in my bookshelf. so, i don't have a drink in my hand, but if i did - i would raise it to this resolve. here goes nothing...


OH and some pictures...

affirm this

i took an online course on building dreams called mondo beyondo. i highly highly HIGHLY recommend it.

it doesn't do much. it doesn't lead to everlasting change. but it puts your fears out there. and for me, it taught me to trust in the universe a bit more. i tend to shrink away from the universe and view all things as negative. and i still do that. five weeks won't change that. but, i have been whispering affirmations to myself a bit more. things like "i can trust my open heart" and "forget regret" and "this dream will carry you".

i'm not entirely sure what my dreams are at all times, but i have found myself being more vocal and taking more chances in these few weeks. and hopefully these chances will lead to bigger things. even something as simple as posting a picture a day for a month or so. it's forcing me to use my creative energies in ways i didn't quite do before.

pretty pictures

I took this yesterday while I set myself up in a little home based photo clinic. I thought it was a good day to play with f-stops.

I also spent the evening at the CT Roller Girls last bout of the season. Now that. That is fun. So much fun. If I wasn't chicken shit and if I knew how to skate - perhaps I would consider trying out. But I want to go see another bout. I hate that the season is over.

And this morning I watched some soccer - I know shocking. But this time it was my 6 year old niece's soccer clinic. It was a bunch of little girls running around and it was fantastic. Truly wonderful. No elbows were thrown. And no one was injured. Makes me want to join a women's league.

black crows...

This was what greeted me as I left the house.

That picture would look substantially better if I had my new zoom lens which unfortunately did not arrive until this evening. Here is the inaugural picture.


These would be the mums sitting on my front porch. Up super close.

General Lee?

Or not.

goodbye october...

i like this picture. the colors. the way it smelled outside when i took it. and the bend. there's so much potential. a whole new world might be around the bend.

my night in tarrytown

i don't know if i'll make a habit of going back to tarrytown often. however, many of my favorite musicians appear to like playing at the music hall, so maybe i will. but for now, my night there will be memorialized by images of hanging witches and ghosts, the question of just how many tarrytowns there are, creepy scarecrows, the need for TWO chinese restaurants and brazilian restaurants, and todd snider.

todd was great to watch. as were the other fine gentleman (bruce robison and robert earl keen). it was my first exposure to either of them. i knew who robert earl keen was because of the song "BEER RUN" but i knew none of his music.

it was a wonderful night. solidified my todd snider fandom. i wish i had discovered the use of words as we walked by him having dinner at the greek restaurant. but i like to think i just opted to not bother him while he was having a delightful dinner with his family and friends.

i'm sticking with that story.

A new habit

a photo a day... if i can't write, i can click

 

I love Todd Snider

This is not a surprise to anyone. Least of all me. Most exciting right now is the fact that in less than two weeks I will be seeing the man live. This will be my first time. I am beyond excited. Super excited.

I wish it was already October 30. Thinking about this milestone, I decided to come up with what might be my top 10 favorite Todd Snider songs. I say might because this list could drastically change tomorrow.

So here goes - in no particular order ...

1. Doublewide Blues
2. The Ballad Of The Devil's Backbone
3. Money, Compliments, and Publicity
4. Broke
5. All That Matters
6. Feel Like I'm Falling In Love
7. Vinyl Records
8. The Devil You Know
9. America's Favorite Pasttime
10. Happy To Be Here.

Has it really been a year?

I call this picture Mermaid mom.

My mom died one year ago tomorrow. I honestly don't know how that happened. Where did the year go? What do I have to show for it?

I guess the question is what happens now? I've been waiting for this year to be over. And now it's here and I have no idea what to do.

I feel like I should mark it somehow. But all I do is think about where I was exactly one year ago. Last week I was at a meeting. The entire time I thought about how I was at the same place for a similar meeting. I even parked in almost the same place. Hell, it may have been the exact same parking spot.

On Sunday, I went to my brother's house to have dinner with his in-laws. A year ago, we did the same thing. That night was when everything started.

This whole week has been a mess of "last year at this time." My mom passed away on a Wednesday. That would have technically been today. This whole night people were over. I remember eating chicken and drinking wine. I remember calling the few people I wanted to talk to. I remember sitting on my porch talking to my friend Sara and feeling a little shaky but shocked at how calm I was. I remember sitting on the floor in a corner of the "green room" and talking to my friend Jess. I remember that I had on a red dress. I wore that to the hospital. I thought my mom would like it. She loved the color red. She didn't notice. I believe she had no idea I was there. I haven't worn it since. I remember ripping it off and putting on a t-shirt and jeans for the rest of the night.

I remember everything. The feelings and images are burned in my head. I remember that last hour. I remember the feeling in my body when we had to make a decision. I can still remember the feeling of the nurse's hand on my back when we sat in the room.

I remember it all. But I can't believe it happened. I'm still a little blown away. I still catch my breath at realizing she isn't here.

I am terrified of forgetting her. Or of just remembering the parts that were really bad. She had been sick most of my life. I don't want to just remember that.

Obviously, it's been hard. And I feel like tomorrow has to mean more than just one year. Does it all change? After tomorrow, nothing is new. The new reality is over. It's no longer a matter of "This is the first ______ since my mom died." I've already experienced it. Now what?

I miss that smile.

My mom and I at my niece's softball game last summer.

My mom and I. I think I'm not even one yet. I had massive ringlets at my first birthday.

My parents at Balboa Island.
I love this picture.

My mom and I went up to the Berkshires a few years back for some shopping and lunch. We stopped off in Stockbridge where this picture was taken. We had just had lunch at Alice's Restaurant.

the perils of being a soccer fan

I love the sport. I do. I grew up on it. I've already written about why I love it. There's something absolutely magical about going to a match and following a team. I don't think there's anything unique about my feelings. Talk to any fan. Any sport. Any thing, really. A die hard baseball fan will tell you about the joy they encounter while at a game. Regardless of park and teams playing. Talk to a musical theater fanatic and they will tell you about how amazing it is to see a show. Regardless of whether it's on Broadway or in their local high school gym.

That's how I feel about soccer.

But I'm also a fan. I also want my team to do well. I want the boys in light blue of Napoli to make me proud. And do they?

No.

At least not lately.

Today the boys lost to Roma. And is pisses me off. I know I need to not take it personally. These things happen. Teams lose. But this particular concoction of players are individually quite talented. And usually when individually talented players get together some good things can happen, regardless of egos and outsized personalities. (I'm looking at every Brazilian national team ever.) Not so with these guys. I just finished watching the match and it felt like my niece's travel league of 9 year olds were playing Roma. Honestly though, Roma looked like a slightly more organized high school team with a couple good shots on goal and then a tightened up defense.

In other words, this game was not a pretty one.

It also most likely marks the end of Roberto Donadoni as manager for Napoli. If managers were scored on looking amazing in suits - Donadoni would be tops. The guy cuts a fine figure in his exquisitely tailored suit on the side lines. No, really. He's a good looking guy.


But unfortunately, that's not enough. I like the guy. I like his laid back appearance. But something has not been cutting it. Maybe he just lacks the fire. Exhibit A is his experience as National Team coach during Euro 2008. Maybe he's not inspiring his players. I watch a lot of Friday Night Lights and it has taught me all I care to know about American football. And one thing it demonstrates is the power of inspiring coaching. If Coach Taylor was managing Napoli, those boys would be having emotional breakthroughs everyday on the pitch that can only improve their game. Even if Matt Saracen gets benched.

But I digress.

Donadoni is probably out. And maybe that's a good thing. The season is still early. Last year at this time, Napoli was on fire. At one point they were actually in first place. It's time to shake things up. And maybe that shaking involves a coach who can inspire. My dream pick: Robert Mancini.

He also looks good on the pitch in a suit. But I loved his work with Inter. I also remember watching him play with Sampdoria when I was a kid.

On a total side note, I am going to jump on the "BRING CASSANO TO THE NATIONAL TEAM" bandwagon. I'll be secretary. Seriously, the man is inventive in a way that so few players are. Sure, he's got a past of "Attitude problems." He wrote a book talking about how he basically didn't care about what people told him to do when he was younger. But, um, Sampdoria is at the top of the table. And it's because of him. They beat the unbeatable Inter. And it's because of him. And, well, the Italian national team needs some flair and attitude.



You won't get that from smiley Cannavaro or Buffon or any of the other national team mainstays.

But these frustrations, these anxiety inducing mornings, the mood setting experiences for the end of the weekend are what being a soccer fan is about. It's why I signed up. The agony of watching your team struggle and then (ideally, hopefully) win gloriously is why I keep watching. Again, it's not unique to me. It's not unique to this sport. But it's my experience.

And maybe next week I'll be writing about a completely revived Napoli.

Or not.

It's amazing what you can find

These two boxes had been in my parent's basement, (well, my basement) as long as I can remember. In fact, the address label on the box said 1968.

It appears my grandmother bought them. They were ordered through I tried a google search to see what I could come up with for Signet China. And apparently there is a lot. But I was under the impression it was a catalog as well. I will keep investigating.

But we have the address label.






And a warning to be careful.


And the boxes are actually sort of cool.

I remember seeing the boxes when I was a kid. They had always been in the basement taking up space. My dad would get annoyed because they were in the wine cellar portion of the basement. And took up space. I remember being told at some point the dishes were mine. That my mom had picked them out for me. Or maybe that was my interpretation. I mean, I was probably about 10.

Clearly since the dishes were bought way, way before I was born (nine years), they were not bought for me. My grandmother bought them and had them sent to my parent's house. For whatever reason, she did not give them to the intended person and my mom held on to them. Nine years later when a little girl was born (moi), it was decided they would become part of my hope chest.

And voila.

It's kind of nutty. The craziest bit is that they are green. Green is my favorite color.

It's almost as if there is some sort of psychic intervention at play...

Sparkle?

I have been long gone from this blog. I don't know why it happened. But it did. I could make excuses. But, it's better to just pick up and move on.

And here I am.

I've been crazy with work. Crazy with trying to manage my dad. And then I went on vacation.

I wanted my sparkle. That's what I most craved on my week away. And while the sparkle was not exactly found, the vacation was wonderful. Can't quite say what the best part of vacation was.

Was it finally making it to the Pemetic summit? Was it the kayaking trip on the bay? Was it Improv Acadia?

I don't know.

I think the parts I most liked were the parts where my mind shut down. The mornings where we sat in and watched Charmed. Or the nights (okay, just once) where we sat by the water with drink in hand talking and listening to water lapping at our feet.

That's what I needed. I needed to shut down and not think and not obsess and just let go. I was hoping for some feeling of sparkle and shine. I had this hope that I'd find my creative juices.

But just doing nothing and relaxing and letting go. That was enough.

And now I'm home. And work has resumed crazy. But I can at least remember the happy moments of just a few days ago. That's what needs to carry me through. I can't regret what I didn't do. But I need to relish in what I did do.

It did strengthen my resolve to ramp things up in my own life. Travel around more. Visit more people. Really figure out what it is I want to do in life.

But tonight, I'm taking it slow. I spent the day getting some work done in the house. And now I just need to settle in and do some reading and good sleeping.

Family ...

Family stresses me out. Maybe it's my overthinking tendencies, but my goodness! How can I not?

I spent the night with a bunch of cousins who I don't see that often. It was also the first time I saw any of them since my mom died. It's hard not to walk into this restaurant and wonder what they are thinking. It's also hard to wonder why I choose to go to these events. It's hard to sit there and clearly not be part of the conversation with these moms. They all have kids within months of each other. They were all married with a year or so of one another.

I went out to meet a relative visiting from South America. She was lovely. However, when it came time to talk to me. I froze up. I don't know why.

Actually I do. I always feel inferior around these relatives. Despite the fact that I am an attorney. Despite my life experiences. Despite my grades in school. Despite it all, I feel like I don't compare. Why the hell do I let them get to me in this way?

Is it because I'm not married? Is it because I don't have the same interests? Is it because I never actually hung out with them? I don't know. But once a year or so I get invited to these dinners and I go. I go because I want to be included. Or part of their clique. Or so I think before I go. And usually as I go through the doors I start to get a constriction in my throat and regret my decision. I have a fine time throughout the evening. And I did last night.

But I find myself amused by certain things. Like when I was asked if I was born 1982. Or when someone remembered how big a fan of Hugh Grant I was. Or when I kept being referred to as the smart one.

I mean, really? Do they just not have anything to talk about with me?

But I go. The evening is behind me. And now I can put it behind me. Follow everyone on facebook and wait until the next one in a year.

I remembered #10

I remembered my #10 from my last post. I had forgotten about it because since going gluten free, I simply had to remove it from my vocabulary. But here it is.

10. Malt vinegar. I miss malt vinegar. I miss going to a pub, ordering fries, dousing them in salt and malt vinegar and having a beer.

I remembered today since I was at Vaughn's eating the Glenkerry Potatoes and saw the malt vinegar on the table. It made me momentarily sad. But the Glenkerry Potatoes are absolutely amazing. I can eat those. They don't need malt vinegar on them.

10 THINGS I MISS MOST SINCE GOING GLUTEN FREE

It's been a year and 12 days since I received my official celiac disease diagnosis. While it's been difficult and I'm still trying to figure out what I can eat and not eat and what exactly is still bothering me (bye bye soy milk), I would never want to go back. Here is what I wrote then.

And most of it holds true. I think I have a fairly good attitude about it. Usually. Oh I whine. Oh I make a point of pointing out how difficult it is for me. But for the most part I try to be upbeat about it. So I have to order really differently at restaurants. And maybe it's not the easiest to visit someone (who is not already living a gluten free life). But if giving up gluten means I won't have horrible stomach pains anymore and I stand a better chance of not having the massive health issues my entirely family appears to be plagued with, then adios gluten.

BUT, there are 10 things I miss since starting this lifestyle.

1. Italian bakeries. Bye bye sfogliatelle, pasticiotti, and cannolis. I did however learn to make gluten free pizzelles this weekend. See for yourself.
2. Being able to run out to the local cafe and order a sandwich.
   
3. Not having to call every restaurant before heading out to see what they're gluten free options are.
   
4. A good loaf of fresh baked bread. I'm still trying to make this happen.
5. Having a beer at a sporting event. The sangria just isn't the same.
6. Pretzels. (But when in the city and in need of a quick snack, cashews are a good substitution.)
7. Going out for pizza.
8. Not having to worry about cross-contamination.
9. Cornmeal bagels from that place in Elmwood.
   
10. Um... Honestly. I can't actually come up with a tenth. And really #9 was sort of a stretch.
    

I do miss these things. But again, I will eventually adjust. Or figure out how to make an excellent gluten free option. Not just a "decent" gluten free option. Seriously, can anyone make gluten free phyllo dough?

water plus sun equal good saturday

IMG_0295, originally uploaded by laliaberry.

I spent saturday doing some things that needed to be done in the house followed by an afternoon/evening at the shore.

It was a day capped off with an hour or more ride on my brother's boat where we got to catch the sunset as we rode back to the marina. Stupidly, I didn't bring my camera around for the fun, but did have my iPhone. It amazes me how great the iPhone photo quality is. I mean, it's a phone - and that's the shot. Imagine what my Canon Rebel could have done.

See some other iPhone snaps here.

At what point did I become a grown up

I don't know when it happened, but I'm not sure I like it. Somewhere along the line I became responsible. Had a steady job for more than 5 years. Have "savings." Debate whether or not a new hoodie is a necessary purchase. Plan for a well balanced meal. Or egads! Actually got rid of some of the tank tops and tshirts that had been my uniform for years.

But at the same time, that other part of me thinks I'm really still fifteen. I bought a pair of red converse because Gwen Cooper wore them the first season of Torchwood. Wearing pigtails (when my hair allowed it) was the norm. I like the big blockbuster comic book movies that have become the style each summer. I still laugh at stupid jokes. And I still have a fine appreciation for The State.

I am not sure when this all happened. It shocked me this week when I was told I look my age. I have never looked my age. When I was a kid, I looked older. And when I was 24 I would get carded buying cigarettes. And now, I "look my age." I was assured that was not a bad thing. The exact quote was

"You look like someone in her late 20s/early 30s."

Granted, I know that's not old. But that also means that when I consider dating someone the age range is not 25-30. But 35-40. And THAT is a scary consideration. When did that become my demographic? My knee jerk reaction is that I couldn't consider a 39 year old to grasp my pop cultural references. Until I realize that "OH MY GOD, I HAVE THE SAME POP CULTURAL REFERENCES AS A 39 YEAR OLD!!!"

Rationally, I know this is not old. I know that I'm only a scary eight years away from that number. I know that I best get along with people older than me in most aspects of life. I know that I've always been beyond responsible and together in this life. And in that respect have always acted more mature than my years might be. I also know that in the great scheme of things 31 is pretty freakin young.

But if we all thought rationally, where would the fun be in that? There would be no more late night mind ramblings. There would be no more over reactions to simple things in life. Goodbye to overthinking how that date went. And that life, while calm and serene, would be a little bit boring methinks.

I'm doing my best to remember that there are plusses to being a grown up. I can get on any ride at the amusement park. I can buy myself things without worrying about having to ask mom or dad for money. I own a car I dig (Hi Severus!) I am respected in my field and people actually seek out my opinion. (That is also a shocking moment in the growing up.) I've had a lot more time to better form my opinions on life and thoughts. I grew up with some of the better pop cultural experiences. (The State, Tommy Boy, Colin Firth as Darcy, Edward Scissorhands, Buffy - the way vampires should be, Green Day)

While I still do not know when it happened or how, I'm grateful for these little things. I also really like the little crinkles around my eyes when I smile.

And while this song doesn't quite fit this post, it's been in my head all week. The Todd Snider obsession will be here all summer. Stay tuned.

Anyone seen my voice?

I have been trying to write again. Get back in the habit and be productive with my writing and other creative endeavors. I have a lot of half starts in my house right now and I'd like to be finish a couple of them.

But it's been really hard. So hard.

I sit down to write and it seems like I've forgotten how to do it. I feel like my stories are no longer in my voice. I used to know my voice really well. In fact, I thought I had a strong voice. One that was me and sometimes quite intuitive and articulate.

But now, the voice is foreign to me. It speaks haltingly and forced. I don't know what happened. It's like it just up and vanished and ran away. Maybe it is participating in an exchange program with another voice? When it comes back it will be stronger and more vibrant then ever?

This week I set about with goals. I've established where I want to write in my house (Incidentally, it's a room I've been jokingly referring to as the creative room since my sewing machine, yarn, and other such materials are sitting in there.) I'm deciding what my writing days and times will be. I'm even thinking about a writing ritual - maybe a piece of clothing or a hat or a scarf. I have the chair. It's orange.

I'm hoping that these baby steps will help my voice return. Because, frankly, it's absence is beginning to piss me off.

ahhh music

I like listening to music. It's a favorite pasttime. You'd be hardpressed to ever find me anywhere without music on. Even if I am not conscious of what I'm listening to, it's there.

For some people, the tv serves that role. The role of crutch. It's just easier for me to do things if music is on. I can work better. I can sit and read better. I can pull weeds out of the back patio better.

All around, it's better with music.

Lately, I've been trying to buy less and just appreciate what it is I own. I've also been spending a lot of time playing with pandora. I love the suggestions pandora gives me and the new ideas. And it's easy to deal with at work. I don't have to remember my iPod. I don't have to hope I have batteries in my speakers. It's all there and good to go.

One of my favorite things to do is hear live music. Sitting at a bar, drink in hand, listening to the band play. I don't do it nearly enough. Sadly, there's a scarcity to the closely accessible and affordable live music in my area. I'm not a fan of the big giant concert experience. I like quiet. I like intimate. And that is in the scarcity 'round these parts.

I'm not necessarily gifted or blessed with musical gifts. But, I try. I've been taking guitar lessons the past year and a half and will actually quit next week. Take a break. Play as I feel inspired. I might take up lessons again in the future. But right now, I'm not feeling it the way I used to. But it's been fun to learn songs. I can play "Blackbird." And "Driver 8." And a few other songs here and there.

Listening to music reminds me that I need to bring creativity into my life more. I need to work that in to my day to day more often. It saddens me that I've fallen into profession where I feel stifled creatively. And I don't get the chance to act on those impulses.

The plan is to learn how to bring that in more. Suggestions?

In honor of the song I know how to play best on guitar I am embedding this video I watched a while ago. It made me weepy. I found it at http://www.superherodesigns.com (a great blog.)

Happy Bloody Monday

It's Monday. And it has acted like Monday.

The thing is - it started sooo well. I was downright happy driving into work. The traffic on route 4 did not bother me. The music playing through my car stereo speakers was quite happy. There was Bruce Springsteen. Some Journey. A little bit of "The Little Mermaid." Yes, Sebastian, "life is the bubbles." Indeed.

And then I got into work. First, there was no staff. And that was wrong.

And then they trickled in. I had to have a conversation about why. And it was not the conversation I wanted to have first thing in the morning. I can't take care of everyone. And I can't force people to do various things. But I wish I could. I wish I could tell my staff person that she was required to take the next two weeks off and address her personal issues because it was interfering with her work. And it is interfering with her work. And the nature of what we do and what I do, it does come back to me. Because I'm her boss. And therefore, I have done a crap job of training. Isn't that how it looks to the public? I'm the one who has to eat the crow and own up for their mistakes because I'm the one who hears the complaint.

I'm frustrated and angry and trying to figure out what it is I'm doing right now.

I've been playing caretaker my entire life and it would be nice to just say fuck it, my turn!

As I told someone earlier, incompetence does have its benefits.

question

Would it be a little too self promoting to get one of my neices or nephew this t-shirt?

Yeah.

I thought not. Unfortunately, my freakishly tall little relatives have already outgrown the sizes available.

today's music... while multi-tasking

I had a fun ride into work today. I was groggy as hell, but the music was good.

1. Driver 8 - REM (first song I learned on guitar that felt like I was playing guitar)
2. If My Heart Was a Car - Old 97s (song that got me running again last year)
3. Spanish Bombs - The Clash (how can you not love this song)
4. Restless Heart Syndrome - Green Day (it's Green Day!!!)
5. Find Another Girl - The Hives (I always forget this song...)

And since coming into work, I've been on the phone with an attorney who loves to talk. It's helping perk me up a bit. That and the cup of coffee at my side. But I just clicked on pandora - Todd Snider Station - the music acting as my soundtrack to this conversation so far has been great. (the conversation has been about 30 minutes so far.)

1. The Believer - Rhett Miller (umm, two days in a row my Todd Snider Station has opened with Rhett Miller)
2. Niteclub - Old 97s (pandora looooves Rhett Miller)
3. The Crane Wife 3 - The Decemberists (I forgot about them. Not incredibly crazy abotu them anymore, but still a fun surprise)
4. For All I Know - James McMurtry (a pandora discovery)
5. Tillamook County Jail - Todd Snider (so, the fifth song into the Todd Snider station is ... Todd Snider)
6. Jerusalem - Steve Earle (I have become a bigger and bigger fan of his stuff)
7. Hover - Rhett Miller (seriously, pandora has such a crush on Rhett Miller. Not that I blame them. He is crushable.)
8. Walkin' Cane - Robert Earl Keen (okay, so previous to this pandora station, I only knew Robert Earl Keen as a character in Todd Snider's song "B-E-E-R Run". But I like anything that opens with a slide guitar.)
9. Fortunate Son - Todd Snider (one of the best covers ever. hands down.)
10. Rich Man's War - Steve Earle (one of my favorite Earle songs.)


So that's about it for now. Phone call's over. This guy loves to talk and I get sucked in each time because the conversation is usually good. He's one of the few attorneys I work with that treats me as an equal in conversation. It's rarer than you think in my present line of work. But it's getting much better.

ummm.... time delay

That conviction to post more sort of fell by the wayside.

Oops.

But, here I am. A new meandering of thoughts for those of you reading to process. Thoughts running through my head today include:

1. I have a great article idea for a sports writer to take on. I'd write on, but I don't exactly have the resources. Or patience to write it. But I want to read the article.

2. I'm nearing the end of my guitar lessons. It's been great. And I've loved them. But I need to proactively start thinking about a house. I need to put that $100-$125 a month aside and focus on a down payment for a house.

3. I'm proactively thinking about buying a house one day.

4. One late night a few weeks back, I stumbled across Bridget Jones' Diary. I love this movie. I adore Renee Zellweger in this one role. I love Darcy. I love Hugh Grant as Wick.. I mean Daniel. It amused me to no end that Gauis Baltar or James Callis as he is known when not on Battlestar Galactica is in this movie as Tom.
But as I watched the ending, I got angry. Specifically angry with Darcy. When I first read the book I was about 21 and I thought Bridget was ridiculous. I could not stand her. She was everything that was wrong with how women were perceived. Then I watched the movie when I was about 24 and I thought, hmm... there's something here. I mean, yeah, she's ridiculous. But I have had those nights singing aloud in my home holding a bottle of vodka. And each time I've re-watched it, I've found something to relate to. The career blundering. The ridiculous flirtations at work. The concerns about what my place in this world is. The attempt to reconcile familial insanity with own insanity. The failure to live up to familial expectations. The movie has grown on me.
Except, well, I got angry a few weeks back. Why? Mark Darcy read Bridget Jones' diary. He reads her diary. That's just wrong. It's reprehensible really. And, previously when watching I was just like Bridget - "Oh noesss... I can't believe it. He read her diary. And she said all those awful things about him. I hope she catches up to him and they can have a romantic kiss in the street." But this time around I thought - "Who the fuck does he think he is? Just picking up her diary and reading it like that? What the hell?"
It seems so basic. We have diaries or journals. They are private. Yes, my blog is a journal of sorts. But I've chosen to make it public. And as such there is a lot edited out. I don't give my inner most thoughts here. Those are in my journal. Which sits by my bed on my bedside table. Those thoughts are for me and for me alone. Maybe one day when I am long dead and gone, someone can find some cultural significance. But really, I'm not that opposed to the Jane Austen family tradition of burning letters and journals upon death. If anyone were to read my journal without my permission, I would feel so violated. Even if that person was Colin Firth. Even if that person turned out to be my very own Darcy (although frankly I may be holding out for a Captain Wentworth these days), I'd be hurt. And angry. And would probably run out into the street to find him. But not for a romantic kiss in the street. I'd confront him about how angry I was.

This was my big revelation about Bridget Jones' Diary this summer. I'll probably continue to watch the movie whenever I stumble across it. And maybe I'll ignore this minor moment of irateness. It was late at night after all. But for now, it's a little less than awesome.

5. While I understand the cultural significance of Michael Jackson dying, I'm a bit dismayed at how much media coverage has been taken up by it. His memorial service was one of the main stories on tonight's NBC news with Brian Williams. The 3-4 minute segment came right before a one minute blurb about US soldiers dying in a roadside bomb in Afghanistan. That turned my stomach a bit.

6. I am thinking about buying red lipstick. But I don't know if I can pull it off.

7. I love listening to Todd Snider.

and lastly, 8. I need a vacation. Badly.

Unexpected

It's well established that I enjoy the soccer. That's not a shock to anyone. I also really enjoy it when teams I like win. And even better than that is when the team I like has a hard luck story.

Like, say, the only way the team can advance to the next round of a tournament is through math and goal differential. And that happens. Yeah, its exciting. Unlikely as can be. But it is exciting when that happens. But it rarely happens.

And it never happens that I can recall with US Men's National Team (USMNT for short). But it did with the Confederations Cup this past week. And even more improbable than beating Egypt by 3 to advance is beating their semi-final opponent. That opponent is Spain. About to set a record for most games won Spain. Spain that has not lost a game since 2006. FIFA ranked #1 Spain. That Spain.

And the USMNT did it. Thanks to great defense (I have such love for Jay DeMerit now - who knew?) and two goals from Jozy Altidore and Clint Dempsey.

I am happy. I haven't stopped smiling. It's nice to support a team that wins. I'm getting a little superstitous about Sunday's final against either Brazil or South Africa.

I have nothing to add. My love for Clint Dempsey runs wild. I can't explain it. I have loved him since the 2006 World Cup. I tried to see him play with the Revs twice and he was suspended for both matches. That made me sad.

But here's old school Clint Dempsey. It's ridiculous. And I love it.

Ritual

Like clockwork, I started my Todd Snider summertime obsession. Every year about this time, I start to think about sitting on wraparound porches, sipping sweet tea and listening exclusively to Todd Snider. He comforts me. Especially when I'm stressed.

And lately, work has been crazy. Home has been crazy. And my mind is just out of control. So to calm myself, I pop in Todd Snider and smile. His drawl causes a grin. His lyrics make me laugh. And he's kinda fun. He just seems like someone that would be fun to hang out with and spend time. He's just a great storyteller.

Anywhere... here is a song from Todd Snider's album. It's a great story. I've been listening to it on repeat here at work as I sip on some sweet tea and look out my window at a currently not raining sky.

Soccer rant for early June

I had hoped that at some point I would post fairly regularly about soccer. But, that has not happened. There are a lot of reasons why that has not happened.

First, I am a Napoli fan. And they have sucked this year. And by year, I mean 2009. They were amazing in the first half of the season - the part that was in 2008. But in 2009 - they have been not so hot. If they had not been such a strong team early on, they'd be fighting to remain in Serie A. One coach was fired and now they have Donadoni. I like Donadoni. Many don't. Many were angered by what he did to the National Team during the Euro. And while I agree that he really didn't seem to put together the best team, I wonder how much of that was him or how much was him bowing to pressure as to what players to bring forward. I think he has the talent to bring together a young time and think creatively. Of course, he's dealing with the big name talent wanting to leave. I am of the "let him go" mentality. The team signed the fabulously talented Fabio Quagliarella. He's home grown talent and could do well in Lavezzi's spot. But that's next year. This past half season was hard to watch. It was hard to muster excitement for a team that could not manage to win. (Except for when they beat first place Inter Milan.)

Secondly, soccer is sacred to me. I'm afraid that if I write about my fandom, it loses a bit of it's luster. But, I also talk about it obsessively, so it's hard to balance that line.

Thirdly, I was thinking it was not a big summer soccer year. And then I remembered the Confederations Cup. Plus there's some nifty World Cup qualifiers coming up around the bend.

And Fourthly, I never really know what to write about when it comes to soccer. Or calcio. Or football. I mean, do I focus on silly things like horrible kits. Or do what the ladies at http://www.kickette.com/ do so well. Or do I pretend to know what the hell I'm talking about when discussing the play.

I think I'll tackle all of these things. Watching soccer is sacred. How I watch soccer is sacred. I don't like being distracted when I'm watching a match I care about. I don't like being around people who don't understand the sport when I'm watching any match.

I've written about the wonder of community during a soccer match. I've written about my distress at seeing my favorite team flounder this past year. I've written about how pretty a game it is to watch. For, um, many reasons.

The FIFA Confederations Cup starts soon. And that makes me happy. It makes me very happy to be able to watch international soccer again. I look forward to watching Italy play the United States in a few days. However, I'm worried as well.

I'll root for the US to do well. It's what I do. I may have been brought up on Italian soccer but the US is still where I live. And I would like them to do well. Except. Well...

Okay, so I've watched the last two US World Cup qualifiers. And it was not a pretty affair. Far from it in fact. It pissed me off. They won the second match thanks to a BEAUTIFUL goal by the equally beautiful Carlos Bocanegra. (Incidentally, this goal led to me recieving a text from a friend proclaiming "I want Boca's baby." And my reply which was "You'll have to fight me for him.") But the team lacked something.

And this is where I find myself quoting Alexi Lalas (God help me...) - they didn't have heart. They did not seem to care that much. Not the whole team. I mean, Ricardo Clarke was incredible. And I do have to give it up for Conor Casey aka the battering ram. But I'm really just proclaiming my love of a guy one of the commentators referred to as a battering ram. Nothing more there.

But, the big names. The ones that US Soccer has been talking about for years. They didn't have heart consistently. And that's a problem. To win anything in life you have to want it. And they did not. Or at least that's what it looked like to me. Even though they won on Saturday, I'm still worried that after almost EIGHT years no one knows what to do with Landon Donovan. He's clearly gifted. And when he cares, his play is incredible. But then there are those moments where he just sort of phones it in.

You don't phone it in on the pitch.

And I get angry.

But that anger is part of what makes me love this sport so much. Being so passionately angry about how badly my team may be messing it up is what makes me love this sport so much.

Unsettling

I woke up this morning early. I had a doctor appointment about 45 minutes away from my house at 7:30. I noticed that my computer was on so I decided to shut it down and as I went to do so, I noticed a new email. It was from a cousin in Italy. Someone I have never met. Someone I did not actually know existed until a few months ago.

Attached to the email was a picture of her and my mom and a third person. My mom is probably 16 or so in the picture. She's gorgeous. Her smile radiates out of her. I saw the picture and smiled. Said "Hi Mamma!"

I had to shut down and leave the house. The picture left my thoughts for a while as I drove to Storrs. Met with a new doctor and discussed why I was still having "tummy issues." It's been ten months since I was diagnosed with celiac and I thought I'd feel better now. But, I'm not consistently feeling great. One suggestion to emerge is giving up coffee. And while I hate that idea, I realize it's probably worthwhile to attempt. I notice how I feel when I drink coffee on occassion. It doesn't sit well. I decided to give it the old college try and give it up. Maybe just giving my system a rest from certain irritants will make a difference. It's logical. It makes sense. So goodbye to coffee. For a little while at least.

When I made it into work and booted up my computer, I remembered the email. I clicked on the picture again and smiled. But am so unsettled. I don't know who this woman staring at me is. I want to know who she is. I want to know this version of my mother. I got robbed of that experience and I'll never get over that.

I think it might be time to call my uncle. Or send a card. Or hand over an olive branch. I think I'm ready to start thinking about it. I just don't know if I'm ready to go to that place yet. Or how to even get to that place.

But as I figure it out, I'll just look at my pictures and smile. I miss that smile. We saw it so rarely in her last few years. It's nice to see it here.

day away

DSCN0901, originally uploaded by laliaberry.

I went away on Saturday and spent the day in New York. I enjoy spending the day but am fairly certain I could never tolerate living there. But honestly, I am not so sure.

I'm currently debating buying a house. I'm not sure where or what sort of place I want. I think I'd prefer a house, but maybe not. I like the idea of owning a house, but at the same time, I am not always the most handy.

As for where, I think I'd like to be somewhere sparsely populated however ... I think I'd like a small city or a larger town. I like the idea of being able to walk to things. I want to live in a place where I can walk somewhere for a carton of milk or a cup of coffee.

But right now, I'm just searching. Thinking.

As for other stuff in life, I love The Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien. It makes me so ridiculously happy. I love that Conan is back. I remember when I first watched the Late Show. I taped it on my vcr. You remember those, right. Video Cassette Recorders. Remember, you had to program the times. I always liked to add 5 or ten minutes to start and ending times just in case.

But I taped it that night because I had been hearing about this new show with this guy who was taking over for David Letterman. I did not know much about Letterman - all I really knew was his penchant for double breasted suits, because my brother was a big fan of Letterman and the double breasted jacket.

But I was in high school. When I came home, I popped in the video. It was a well loved video cassette and was not the best quality, but Radiohead was the musical guest. That day or the next day, I went out to buy Pablo Honey because I was so impressed by that band.

I remember walking away from that first taste of Conan with a curiosity and interest that never went away. It was like when I first watched an episode of The State. You do remember The State, don't you?

As life went on, I would watch Conan sporadically. I did not care much about the guests. I loved the bits. I loved Conan and Andy. And Max Weinberg. I remember falling asleep to Conan during college nights in my dorm room.

I was always amused. I would laugh out loud. When Conan would come up in conversation with people, I passed judgment if they were not a fan. I did. I try to not hold it against. But in my mind there's two kinds of people - those who love Conan and those who "don't get him." He's funny. You just have to get it.

And if you are not sure if he's funny - watch and decide.

Diet Coke in grass by Anna

Diet Coke in grass by Anna, originally uploaded by laliaberry.

This is one of the first pictures with my new shiny and expensive and beautiful and wonderful camera. Love it.

However I didn't take it. Anna did. My niece. She decided to take a fancy picture of the diet coke bottle laying in the grass. Because it would be funny. Oh children...

Knowledge

It's been brought to my attention that I tend to hyper obsess over things and crave perfection. Or can overwhelm myself with things that are not really that important. Or get overly angry about things that aren't really a big deal.

It's a problem. I know that. And I'm beginning to work on it in very little ways.

For example, a memorial mass is being said for my mother this coming Sunday. I told my brothers about it last week. Old me would remind them again this week. But I decided not to. I told them once. It's on them to write it in a calendar and remember. It's on my dad to remind them again. But I don't have to stay on them. They're big boys.

That may not be a big deal, but it is actually huge for me. I can't constantly be worrying about making sure everyone does what they are supposed to do. Because, well, I don't have that kind of time or energy or desire anymore. And so begin the baby steps. So much of my life has been spent taking care of people that it's time I focused on me. This is what I keep reading. Or hearing. Or being told. Or lectured. Or yelled at about.

You know people, they care so much.

But, that's my knowledge for this week. Also part of my knowledge for this week - I need to fucking write more. I swear rarely in this blog. But it's called for in this instance. And I'm going to start by committing to regular writing dates for this slarfing blog. You hear that people? Er.. Person? All one of you that read this. I'm going to write here regularly!

And together with that knowledge of my need to write more is my need to play with my camera more often. I bought a new one. An expensive one. It's my new baby. And I finally bought it when I realized that I waste tooooo much time worrying about money. Yes, money is important. But so is making myself happy by buying the camera I was too "practical" to buy last year. So, my dear Canon Rebe xsi -I love you. I really really do. This is what love is all about. Isn't it?

procrastination

I sat down tonight to do some writing. Evie (the name of my forever plaguing novel) needs to be edited. She's done now. And just needs massive editing. But somehow instead of working on that, I'm here. Intent to post pictures of my new room. I have not yet come up with a name for this room. It's my little cave. A girl cave if you will. It's where all my time will essentially be spent.

There is work to be done yet. I have not yet put anything up on the walls and am still missing one beloved orange chair and still need to figure out how to work the cubes as coffee table. But, I like the space. I like certain aspects of the space.

This is the basic room from the doorway.



I have prints for all the bare wall present. They just need to be framed and put up. Decorating walls is one place where my few obsessive compulsive decorating tendencies come to light. The frames have to match. I don't care what the little frames look like. In fact, I like variety and eclecticism there. But on the wall they have to match in tone. Not the exact same frame, but color and style must be similar. If not, things just look crazy and out of control.

This is the other side of the room.


I hate that desk. I really do. I loathe it. I have a lot of desk issues lately (see twitter conversations about the work desk). But I am over this desk. I bought it about seven years ago when I was still in law school and had a very different computer. And it was in a very different location. But, now, I don't have a desktop tower anymore. I don't need the hutch. I don't have any need or desire for that desk. But until I am struck by the perfect desk, I will not buy one. I need to love that desk that replaces this one. It needs to be the desk I will have for years and until that desk is located, I will put up with this one.

This is one particular decorative feature I've impressed myself with.



The hooks were left there by my dad. He used to sleep in this room and put the hooks up for his clothes. I did not want to deal with taking them down and potentially not being able to appropriately smooth the wall down in that one spot and having the paint look different. And I have a lot of pictures of my nieces and nephew that are fun and goofy that I like to rotate. Note the awesome orange ribbon.

Other places I want orange to feature, the file cabinet. In the first picture you'll note that the file cabinet is serving as a make shift tv stand. It's not ideal and was not the plan, but since this doubles as my office in addition to my living space, I needed the cabinet and it fit no where else. I have a few ideas for the cabinet - wallpaper, fabric, decoupage. I'm thinking fabric now, mainly because it's easy and quick and could look instantly neat.

Other things I'm digging in the room - the tiara in the spider plant for whimsy and fun, the prominently feature book "How SASSSY Changed My Life," the successful hiding away of the wee, my mom's red cane displayed in a corner, near my guitar.



The room is coming along. I'm hoping it will look less "first apartment" and more like my hideaway when I'm done.

Sometimes it's just supposed to be that way...

Every once in a while it seems like I am on exactly the right track in life. (More often than not it feels like I've totally swerved off track and am about to hit a huge tree, but I digress...)

This has been one of those weeks so far. It's only Tuesday so there is still a long way to go, but it's been a good start. I actually started the day yesterday with complete anger and grrrness. The day was awful. It was just horrible. My office was hosting a town hall wide breakfast. It was a nice event - but completely stressful to plan. Stressful because of the staff and just the timing and the fact that I felt crappy and well, it was Monday and I didn't want to be at work. Then there were meetings I did not want to go. And just never felt like I got anything done.

At some point though, I decided to change my outlook. I began thinking about "things I like." Such as dandelion chains. And showtunes. And my favorite books. Movies. Sunny days. Good coffee.

It sort of worked. And I spent the evening at a seminar learning about what is required to open a solo practice. I have no decisions made. I don't know what I'm doing. But, it was a good thing for me to learn about. And while there I ran into an old advisor of mine who is in sort of the same place. And it amazes me how many people are in this place.

Today had grr potential. But it never happened. I kept myself fairly positive. A lot of different things went wrong, but I opted not to stress. I also found out that I was selected to work on a committee in the state bar association. I need to decide this week and I want to do it. I think. It's hard for me to commit to this. At one level I want to because I am supposed to want to be good at my job and at some point I should advance. Shouldn't I? My ambivalence has less to do with the work than with the commitment to being a lawyer. I need to commit to being a lawyer, but I don't want to. Wasn't I supposed to be living this wonderfully creative life? Shouldn't my life has some meaning? Isn't there more to my life than being a lawyer? And why is it all so exclusive? And why does it stress me out to refer to myself as one? And why did it really weird me out when another attorney said "we speak the same language?"

These are all questions I need to figure out answers to. At some point. And I guess I'm getting there. I've been reading a lot of books on living a creative life outside the daily grind. I figure at some point I'll have it all figured out. It will just take me a while.

And then there was the best random happenstance of my week. I was in Target picking up a prescription to deal with my allergies. I decided to walk out a different way thinking I would look at the cameras. As I did that, I ran into my parents' oldest friends. I had not seen them in a while. I think since my mom's funeral. But, it was good to see them. It felt soooo nice to talk to them. And if I had just walked outside after picking up my prescriptions and not thought about the camera - I wouldn't have run into them. And I feel much better for having run into them.

Sometimes it pays to just take a different way out. Sometimes it worth taking on a role you are not entirely comfortable with just to see what it gets you.

laughter for dreary wednesday

This was on over a week ago. And I'm still giggling. I love How I Met Your Mother. I also really loved this week's episode - especially the bit about the charts. But this opening scene last week about the three day rule. Priceless.

Confessions of a soccer fan

I had my first exposure to the Women's Professional Soccer League last night. WPS started just this year and if I know anything at all about women's soccer it's because my friend Jacqueline has done a good job in her teaching. I am pre-disposed to like the sport. I love soccer. I love watching it. It's the only sport I've ever actively followed. I can't play to save my life. But randomly kicking a ball around or taking shots on goal - that's always a good time. And I could watch soccer games all day if I had to.

I don't know when it started. It may have even begun as an attempt to bond with my dad. And it's worked for the most part. My dad and I have some of our most animated and engaged conversations over a cup of coffee and the soccer standings on Sunday mornings. I sometimes joke that it's the only time we don't argue. Except for those times we disagree. Like when I insist on my undying affection for certain teams.

If my love of soccer began as a father-daughter bonding exercise it persisted because it has a left a huge mark. Maybe it's the heritage. I was brought up in a pretty traditional Italian American family. It's what we do. I remember the 1986 World Cup final held in Mexico. There was some party at my house ... maybe my brother's high school graduation party. But the part that sticks in my mind was the little green black and white tv was carried outside plugged into the outlet outside so all the men could watch the game. I don't remember much else (I was only 9 at the time) but I remember that TV being carried out there. If my memory isn't messing with me, it was carried to a location underneath the gooseberry tree. Would this have happened for a baseball game? No. Football? Hell no. (We'll ignore the fact that the Superbowl is in the winter..)

Another memory involves my parents and I being at a family picnic at High Meadows. They rent out the camp to family and corporate gatherings. I can't remember if this was a family gathering or a corporate one. I do remember lots of family being there (which really means nothing since most of my extended family works/worked at Wiremold.) It was 1994. The World Cup was held in the United States and the final was between Italy and Brazil. Someone arranged a television to be set up in the pavilion and a group of us gathered to watch the match. It was a nail biter. It came down to penalty kicks and Italy ultimately lost. It was awful. And in that moment I became a die hard non-Brazil fan. I decided that I could never ever support Brazil and would never be a fan of their soccer team. Bebeto and Romario were not names I cared to discuss. I remember sitting there in my bathing suit, face paint from earlier in the day screaming at the television when Roberto Baggio and his golden foot missed that last penalty kick. To make matters worse we shared that viewing experience with a large group of Brazilians. It was awful. And solidified my undying love for the sport. There was a bond that day that just made it one of the more memorable experiences in my life. I was only 16, but I remember that day clearly.

And the list continues. The sport has been such a part of my life for so long I can't imagine not being a soccer fan.

There are a lot of other reasons for this girl to be a soccer fan. The game is exciting. Yes, a 0-0 match can be one of the most thrilling things to watch. The fans are fantastic. There are a drums. And, well the athletes are extremely fit. And by fit, I mean ocassionally super hot.



or



or



I purposely did not post shirtless pictures. Because well, that's not the point. But the hotness coupled with the fitness makes it all highly entertaining for me. Especially when you throw in the hope that they'll exchange shirts at the end of a match.

Add in the fun had in watching a game in a group environment. This could be a bar. Or at a camp pavilion. Or in someone's backyard. Or at the actual match. There's something about soccer fans that I haven't been able to find anywhere else. It's fun. The atmosphere is what makes it worthwhile. Even the obnoxious fans are fun. I remember watching Portugal v. England in the 2006 World Cup in a local Irish Pub. I was one of the few rooting for Portugal and I was asked to go sit in the corner with the "other" Portugal fan. Rude? No. Hilarious? Hell yes.

But the fans and the environment bring me to why I started writing this post. Last night at the Breakers v. Sol match in the WPS, the environment was just what I love. Even at a women's soccer game, there were drummers, fans in face paint, flags, and awesome yelling. There was a huge contingent of Brazilian soccer fans rooting for Marta. As one of the young fans next to me proclaimed to her brother "Marta is like probably the greatest soccer player, like, ever." And I loved watching the young fans. I don't know if my young sports career would have been different with more visible women female athletes, but seeing these little girls so excited to see their heroes play was worth the price of admission. The 90+ minutes of great soccer was just an added bonus. And it was great soccer. I might even say it was better than any MLS match I'd been to. Is that a knock on MLS? No. I think it's just that the closest MLS team for me is the New England Revolution. And they play in Foxboro. And it's just too big to feel the sort of community I felt last night. The vastness of Gillette Stadium makes it hard to really become part of the experience.

I hope this league sticks around. For the great image these women provide for little girls. For the great community professional soccer teams can provide. And selfishly, because the Boston Breakers are a much more accessible soccer team for me to go see. I wouldn't be opposed to making a trip there more often. For $15, why not? Plus they have sangria.