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.