You are currently browsing the monthly archive for February, 2008.
If you scroll through the entries of this blog, you might notice a very unintential theme–Want, or Desire. I want to visit this city or eat at that restaurant or finish this project. Other days I want a new purse or a new piece of furniture or simply a new book. Sometimes it seems I just want to listen to myself talk.
I’d like to say that like the epistle writer in the Bible (was it Paul?) “I have learned the secret of being content in all circumstances.” But I haven’t. I always want more.
Earlier this week I was listening to the most recent episode of This American Life. This is usually one of the private highlights of my week, but I wasn’t that excited about an episode titled “Testosterone.” Naturally, it turned out to be one of the most fascinating radio shows I’ve heard in quite some time. More than that though, I found it really resonated with me. Yes, me. Girl, me.
During the first half of the episode, Ira Glass interviews a man whose body had stopped producing testosterone for four months. In that time, the man recounts the dissipation of all desire and want from his life, saying, “It doesn’t matter if you have nothing if you want nothing.”
These words rattled around in my brain. What would it be like to want for nothing? To know complete contentment? Wouldn’t that be glorious? I would just accept things as they were. Maybe lose that cloud of restlessness that seems to always hover around me. And then I put on the brakes. Wait. No. No, actually, maybe not.
My desires might seem petty and material at times (okay, most of the time), but it’s part of me. There are certain things I need to want: I want to finish my novel (or at least get past the first chapter). I want to get my Masters degree and explore other professional opportunities. I want to see the world, experience other cultures, and maybe–just maybe–learn another language. I don’t want to settle. I want to keep wanting.
I’m not sure what any of this says about my testosterone levels or about me in general. But it helps me understand myself better. Certainly desire has historically led to the downfall of empires and war or, in my case, credit card debt, but channeled correctly, it might be one of mankind’s greatest strengths. I hope to make it one of mine.
When I first started subscribing to the New Yorker, I wanted to demonstrate my urban, intellectual savvy by reading each issue cover to cover–from The Talk of the Town to the weekly caption contest. For the record this is hard goal to accomplish if you (a) work full-time, (b) participate in any socializing whatsoever, (c) want to read anything else, and (d) have a life.
So now I’m on Emily’s “One Article a Week” Diet. And it’s great! It’s healthy! It’s painless! In fact, quite often, it’s worth sharing.
So now I wish to pass on to you, reader, the Article of the Week (Feb. 25th issue): Big Foot, by Michael Specter. Please read. It will make you look at your carbon footprint, consumerism, and the environment in a whole new (and often more complicated) way.
You know you didn’t really feel like working anyway…
I keep cities in my head, in a spot near the front where they can be accessed with ease whenever I want to get away—cities that I’ve never visited, cities I’ve seen only in pictures or in movies, cities to which I have planned numerous trips that I have never taken. I’ve been doing this since I was five years old.
These days, Amsterdam is one of them. And San Francisco.
[From Ork]
San Fran. Maybe it’s the bridge. I love a good bridge. Or the trolley. I can’t see a trolley without thinking of Judy Garland and Meet Me in St. Louis. Or maybe it’s just my contrary nature that says now that I’ve made it to one coast I want to go to the other coast. My mother would say the latter. Then again it could just be the lure of those tall, narrow Victorian homes competing for tiny patches of this hallowed ground.
But no, I’ve never taken any of those planned trips. I didn’t go to Tokyo when I was in kindergarten. And I opted to go to Paris for a third time last fall instead of Amsterdam for a first. And maybe in part it’s because I am afraid to go. The cities of my mind are sacred—sanctuaries of travel, temples of architecture, beauty, and culture. I often wonder if they can live up to these most ridiculous of expectations I’ve set.
I will go soon, though, because all myths must be tested. And because there will always be cities in my mind. When the current ones pass away—myths confirmed or busted—there will be new ones to replace them; maybe Edinburgh or Montreal or Stockholm. There will always be a new dream.
from Urban Outfitters:
The word hope has been tossed around a lot lately. A certain favorite Democratic presidential candidate of mine lives and dies with the word hope (and/or change). It’s almost as if despite the war debacle and threat of terrorism and health care crisis and college campus shootings, we’re becoming a country of optimists. We’re suddenly buying in to the American Dream again.
And now the New York Times is jumping on the bandwagon… painting a hopeful picture of the reading outlook in the U.S (Book Lust) in response to a recent pessimistic comment by the infallible Steve Jobs.
I’ve bemoaned the crisis of literary America before on this blog. It was in main part my stimulus for trying to tackle 100 books in a year, but this short op-ed offers new statistics and new… dare I say it? hope, for everyone who loves the written word.
Maybe we’re reading more. Maybe that’s why we’re dreaming more.
… with this chair.
I’ve been neglecting my camera lately. I can only admire people who manage to record and upload their life on a daily (or even semi-regular basis). My habits tend to be far more sporadic. When it rains, it pours, if you will.
Well, it’s Saturday and it’s a long weekend, so I’ve no excuses. It’s time for an illustrated entry. And since yesterday was rather kitchen-centric, we’ll get in touch with our crafty side today.
MAKEOVER
After many hours of frustration and rude remarks directed at my garage sale sewing machine, we’ve come to an agreement, making my craft space a far more welcoming place. And aesthetically, it’s beginning to reflect it’s growing role in my life.
A few months ago:
Today:
Progress.
NEW ARRIVAL!
After an incident involving a cat with an upset tummy and my duvet cover, I found a good reason to undertake the creation of a new duvet cover. I think I may have previously mentioned: I’m going girly…
Just came in the mail this afternoon from Canada. So excited!
IN PROGRESS:
The oft mentioned coasters:
And PurlSoho’s genius embroidery hoop wall decor:
DONE AND DONE.
My first apron went to my mother for Christmas, but here is apron number two at long last! It’s very basic but absolutely perfect for hand-wiping in the kitchen. I so adore this Denyse Schmidt fabric that I elected not to clutter it up with a pocket. Maybe next time.
Let’s get the week’s failure out of the way: Burnt granola.
I assure you this recipe has a great deal of promise. Just don’t burn it.
And now, the success stories!
#1. Have I ever mentioned my favorite salmon recipe before? I have a tendency to select recipes that demand the fewest ingredients from me. I don’t have a glamorous (or large) kitchen that comes fully stocked. To be quite honest, I’m lucky when it’s semi-stocked, which is why I initially fell in love with this recipe. All it asks of me is a salmon fillet, butter, soy sauce, and lemon pepper. In return, all I ask of it is that it’s delicious. We’ve been in a happy relationship for well over a year now.
#2. Scene: Valentine’s Day. Or, The Day After My Birthday Celebration. This can only mean one thing: I am tired. Very tired. I wanted something simple but also worthy of the holiday occasion. Enter: My Favorite Simple Roast Chicken from Epicurious. Again, this was selected based on what I informally call the Five Finger Rule (e.g., I can count the number of ingredients on five fingers or less). While my trussing skills may leave a bit to be desired–I made it up as I went along, the chicken was moist, utterly scrumptious, and oh so easy.
An Aside: At the request of the boy, we had pasta on the side. As someone who is having a near religious experience reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma, I came across Rao’s Homemade Pasta Sauce, which I selected based on the fact that I recognized every ingredient that went into production of the sauce. Highly recommended.
#3. I made crepes. And God saw that it was good. Really good. A bit of an extended version of World Nutella Day. I just used a really basic recipe from How to Boil Water, spread on the Nutella, and voila! Dessert.
Remember the coasters I was jabbering on about on Monday? My Craft of the Week, if you will. Welp, apparently, I’m not the only one who thought they were the perfect mid-February project.
Sew, Mama, Sew! has the instructions here.
Craft update: I have all the pieces cut and ready for assembly and a long weekend ahead ripe for project finishing.
In my heart of hearts, I am a citizen of many cities. As previously discussed I love New York and Paris. And I’ve no doubt that if I ever make it to San Francisco or Amsterdam, I will most certainly never want to leave. But quite often, I find that I rather like the city that became my home more or less by accident.
Like everyone else in DC in my demographic, I have big plans to visit the Portrait Gallery before April 1 to see the Stephen Colbert portrait. But between you and me it’s the new atrium that really has me chomping at the bit to return to this satellite member of the Smithsonian.
Sitting there, I am reminded of Europe. I feel transported in this enclosed corner of the world. Natural light pours through the ceiling, illuminating even the coldest of days. You can pass the time at a table just watching the expressions of surprised delight on individual’s faces as they enter the enclosed courtyard. And if that wasn’t enough, it’s open until 7 pm, making it the perfect destination for an after-work coffee or a bit of studying.
Sometimes DC pleasantly surprises me.
