Posted by Dev | Filed under personal, possibilities, writing | tagged as life happens, reflections
We can live any way we want. People take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience—even of silence—by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling in a certain skilled and supple way, to locate the most tender and live spot and plug into that pulse. This is yielding, not fighting. A weasel doesn’t “attack” anything; a weasel lives as he’s meant to, yielding at every moment to the perfect freedom of single necessity.
I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure, to grasp your one necessity and not let it go, to dangle from it limp wherever it takes you.
From Live Like Weasels by Annie Dillard
I’m trying a new approach in freshmen writing this semester. We’re starting small, building the pieces of our essays in increments. We are paying attention to each step, experience the process in minute slow motion. Instead of saying, “write an essay on an experience you had that made you think differently about x,” we’re beginning with observing the world around us for inspiration, the way Dillard does in Live Like Weasels. So we read Dillard’s essay and though I read it a year ago, I was in a different mindset then, I guess. Because reading the above passage practically knocked me over.
I participated in Mondo Beyondo and the Dream Lab this summer and one thing became very clear: we give up on our dreams, too easily. When we’re young the world seems so huge, so full of possibilities. We say we want to be astronauts and firemen, writers and actresses. Somewhere along the way, we realize not everyone can go into space and somehow we let other dreams die, too. We forget what it’s like to just imagine. I spent a lot of time this summer imagining my success, asking questions about what sacrifices I’m willing to make, where my dealbreakers and takeaways are. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what it is I want for my life but I know pieces and it’s those pieces I want to stalk. So perhaps you ARE living in a fantasy world where maybe you’re not really talented at singing but you want to be the next American Idol and maybe you’re a bit delusional but passion, you’ve got it in spades. I think there’s a difference between that level of fantasy and what Dillard means by “stalking your calling.” I cannot get this phrase out of my mind. Imagine, giving yourself permission to go after whatever it is you want as though it were a necessity, like air, like food, like shelter instead of making excuses: it’s too expensive; I probably won’t get it; I have too many responsibilities.
I do not know if Dillard’s words resonate so deeply with 18-year-old college freshmen because they’re still young enough to believe that anything is possible, that one moment can change your whole day, your whole life. I envy them. And yet, at the same time, I am so happy not to be them because as much as they believe in possibilities, they’re also terrified of being wrong about it. I remember what that is like.
For now, I’m open to yielding, to living like weasels only without the blood and rotting carcasses. I’m open to stalking my calling and to believing the effort is worth it, no matter the outcome. I am not sure yet what this looks like for me, this “grasping my one necessity” but I like the purpose in it, the permission to be intentional.
| August 31st, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under meme,quiz | tagged as meme,quiz, quiz, storytelling
What experience has most shaped you, and why?
It’s difficult for me to narrow this to one. I think I’ve been significantly shaped by many experiences, some painful and traumatic, and others, like graduate school, fulfilling. So much of who I am comes from being raised in the South and from my family. I do not think, however, I would have been able to grow into this self, and love and flourish with this self if I had not moved to Illinois for my Ph.D. Leaving home, a home I love and feel so connected to was such a huge step for me and it has paid off in ways I never imagined. It has supported this fantastic life. And in a way, so much of what I study and write about is connected to that leaving, I’m not sure I can even imagine how different I would be had I not moved.
If you had a whole day with no commitments, what would you do?
Have a nice long breakfast with M. Take photographs of something beautiful and inspiring. Go to the movies by myself. Read. Maybe take a drive.
What food or drink could you never give up?
Dr. Pepper, for sure.
If you could travel anywhere, where would that be and why?
I’m desperate to go to Ireland. I feel like a part of me, some other version of myself is rooted there. I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel I’m meant to go.
Give me one easy savoury recipe that doesn’t include cheese.
We call it “Poor Man’s Chicken Marsala”
You need about 4-6 chicken breasts and 1 package of egg noodles, your favorite white or marsala wine (I prefer white).
1 cup of fresh sliced mushrooms (saute in garlic & butter)
1 can condensed golden mushroom soup
I like to cut up the chicken so it cooks quickly and is easier to eat the noodles. Saute the chicken breasts in a skillet and once browned, add the soup and 1 1/4 cups of wine. Cover and simmer about 20 mins.
In the meantime you can cook egg noodles. I pour the chicken and sauce over the noodles and serve.
What did you think you were going to be when you grew up?
a racecar driver and then, a writer
Which woman writer – living or dead – do you most admire and why?
I admire Kate Chopin because she pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable to write about and how. There’s a deceptive simplicity to her work, in my opinion, and it’s always more than it seems. After reading a short story or novel of hers, I’ll find myself, days later, thinking about a scene or piece of dialogue and suddenly I say, “oh!” and am struck by something altogether different than I expected.
What character trait inspires you the most?
Passion. There’s nothing more fantastic or attractive than someone who is passionate about what they are doing in their lives whether it be work, family, a hobby. I love creative people and having conversations where afterwards I feel inspired just be being in someone’s presence. I find that truly passionate people are honest about what they want, and given themselves permission to have it. I know I can learn a great deal from these folks, which is why so many of them are on my blogroll and in my life.
What is your favorite kind of music?
I cannot live without music. I love all kinds of music, which I realized recently as I imported some cds I found while moving. My favorite kind of music is singer/songwriter stuff where the lyrics speak to me in some way. I love a good, heartfelt lyric more than a great guitar or drum solo. It’s the poet in me. Some of my favorites include Ryan Adams, Jack Johnson, John Mayer (I know, but he’s a great songwriter), Jason Mraz, Regina Spektor, Pink, Brandi Carlile, Catie Curtis, A Fine Frenzy and Ingrid Michaelson.
Which book or books have inspired or touched you the most?
I love to read and so do my parents so books have always been a huge part of my life. You can read about the books that changed my life as a girl, adolescent, undergraduate and master’s student. The ones that have inspired me lately have been books like Dani Shapiro’s Devotion, and Rick Bragg’s Prince of Frogtown because of their storytelling abilities, their command of language and the way they seem to cut through the difficult stuff we don’t often deal with. I just finished Laura Munson’s This Is Not the Story You Think It Is which was amazing and though there are no similarities between our lives, reading it felt like meeting a kindred spirit. I like books that ask me to think about my own resistance and conflicted feelings, that resonate and challenge me all at the same time.
What is the ideal wake-up time?
I used to say 10 a.m. because you’d still be able to get things done but you could sleep in a bit, too. But now, sleeping in for me is like waking up at 7:30 or 8.
Name a cd that would have to be, hands down, your desert island cd. (Let’s ignore the lack of electricity on desert islands.)
I was just talking to someone about this recently. It would have to be Foo Fighters’ Greatest Hits. I like the range of their music, which also brings back memories for me. I love Dave Grohl’s voice and think he’s a really talented songwriter.
What are three things you hope to accomplish within the next decade?
Professionally, I’d like to have a book published, get tenure and do some administrative work. Personally, I’d like to start a family, travel to Ireland and learn to grow a garden.
If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I’m going to be honest here; I would like to be more compassionate and less wrapped into myself and my thoughts/feelings. I think I would be much less stressed out about the little things, which, of course, are what trip me up, if I were focusing on others instead of how I feel in any given situation. There should be some give and take between yourself and others and I have a tendency to do a lot of taking.
How has blogging changed who you are or how you see yourself?
This question resonates with me deeply because blogging has given me a space to look closely at how I live my life. It has helped me examine my habits, create new ones and open myself to possibility. Blogging has given me a community of women, a community of writers and I am continuously and humbly grateful for it.
I’m supposed to tag others to answer and to add a question to keep the meme going. I usually resist doing so because I hate putting people on the spot. However, I’m interested in hearing others’ answers, if they feel like sharing. (I won’t take it personally if you don’t, by the way.)
Oh, my question is this:
Do you have a good luck charm, something you carry with you or a mantra you say or necklace or outfit you wear when you need that little something extra?
I do. I have a necklace with a clover, horseshoe and wishbone on it. You know, to cover my bases.
I’d LOVE to hear what
Lindsey, A Design So Vast
Dian, Authentic Realities
and Justine, Here Where I Have Landed
have to say.
| August 28th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under m, personal | tagged as life happens, video
If you aren’t reading Soul Pancake, even every once in a while, you totally should be. I love that there are many people all thinking about “life’s big questions” together. It’s a cool site chock-full of stuff to think about, which, as an academic, is one of my most favorite things to do. Recently, there was a prompt to “write someone else into your shoes” in 300 words or less and post it in the comments. I kept thinking about this all day that day as I ran errands and tried to cheer up M who was having an off kind of day where life just seems really annoying and full of people and things whose job it seems to be in your way and prevent you from doing what you need to do. I kept returning to this idea of writing someone into my shoes, of thinking about “those times when no one really understood how hard/confusing/frustrating/overwhelming it was to be you. Who do you wish could spend a day dealing with the hand you’d been dealt? What would they realize?”
Today is CU’s Pridefest, which, of course, got me thinking about pride in general, about being proud of something and all the implications of what it means to be proud of being gay when a huge portion of the American and worldwide population actively work to shame us. I’ve had pieces of this post sitting in my drafts folder for some time because I wasn’t sure what the reaction might be. I wasn’t sure I could express what I really wanted to say. I don’t want anyone to feel alienated or defensive or targeted, in any way. But I feel it’s important, as a storyteller, to tell all of the story.
So, while I could focus on the many weird quirks and eccentricities and neuroses that make it exhausting to be me, and there are many, this one significant thing came to mind.
I wish that the people who are afraid of difference or who point-blank abhor it, the ones who are so smug in their heteronormative lives, the ones who feel completely comfortable voting for Prop 8 while they express overt and obnoxious PDA at the mall could, for once, understand what it’s like to be gay.
What I’d like most is not that (and I don’t mean to stereotype or lump everyone into one big group because there are many amazing allies who are not gay who work to resist “the system” and I understand not all “straight people” are the same, just like all gay people are not the same, all women are not the same, etc.) straight people would know what it’s like to be discriminated against, to be ridiculed or made afraid to be your true, authentic self (though such realizations might come in handy), but rather that perhaps, we aren’t so different.
A typical summer day:
In the morning I wake up either to M’s alarm or to her waking me up by singing a silly song. I am grumpy and impossible in the morning and it usually takes me at least 10-15 minutes to even realize I’m up and walking around. I brush my teeth, throw on something comfy to wear, help M find socks or a shirt or whatever it is she needs for work. We head out for coffee, breakfast, whatever. I drop her off at work and then come home to pack or write or work on syllabi. Sometimes I watch episodes from last night’s DVR. I answer email. I do laundry.
I walk outside, wave to the neighbors, do some unpacking, etc. I go to lunch with M. We make plans, schedules. We talk about the upcoming week, about what is left to be done. We tell jokes and stories, make each other laugh.
I pick M up from work sometimes taking her to her second job. Sometimes I go to Border’s and read magazines, or go to the pool or bowling with friends. Sometimes I head home, do laundry, TV. I read, work on websites. If M doesn’t work, we watch TV. We unpack and go through stuff. We play video games or watch movies. We sit on opposite couches and talk. Sometimes I rub her feet as we try to decide what to have for dinner.
The point I’m trying to make is that we are ridiculously boring and not unlike you and your spouse, or boyfriend, perhaps. We make decisions together, have morning routines, make time for affection like making one another laugh or cuddling or rubbing each other’s feet. It is difficult for me to understand what is so appalling and horrible and threatening about that.
I wish the people who are so full of hatred and rage or even those full of misunderstanding could see the difficulty in being who we are on a daily basis. This isn’t meant to be said in a pity-party way but rather in a way that elicits compassion. I wish they could fully realize the challenge to our egos, the fight to be proud of something that society seems hell-bent on shaming us for. We fight every day to simply be ourselves.
My brother once asked if I thought it would be easier if I were straight and I’m sure it would be easier for my family, for society, for a lot of people if we were all the same. But easier for me? I think the question is a bit like asking would it be easier if you were skinny, white, male and rich? If you were popular and able to fit in? If you were afforded privileges you currently don’t have… of course from the outside it looks like it would be easier. It would be easier not to be ridiculed or shamed by the medical profession with offhanded comments, easier to not be concerned when I reach for the hand of the person I love, easier not to constantly answer the question if our dinner bill should be separated or not, easier to get married and have children, buy houses and have joint bank accounts. But it wouldn’t be true and therefore, not easy, at all.
We don’t fit in. We push against the message that there’s something wrong with us, that we’re damaged in some way. We refuse to believe that love and who we love is wrong. That’s what I’m proud of, the continued desire to be ourselves no matter what anyone else says.
I am proud from Dev on Vimeo.
| August 20th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under daily grind, personal | tagged as reflections
To say that a lot is going on would be an understatement. But besides moving, most of it has been going on in my head and heart as I begin to look toward the end of summer and the beginning of a new school year. I am already mourning the end of summer and dreading the reality that is next week and the next. I have, throughout the summer, been trying to make some decisions about this next semester, what texts to use, what assignments to give, what approach to take with the class as a whole. As I said in a previous post, I think much of my struggle the past 2 years has been that I’ve focused so much on trying to be what I think or what others say a “good teacher” is that I’ve gotten away from all the things about who I am that make me a good teacher. I’ve lost the spark that used to drive me because I’ve been overly concerned with checking things off a list.
And worrying about what happens if I get it wrong. Because the stakes feel high, like keep or lose your job high. I know this tenure system is flawed. Most academics know it, too, but we can’t or won’t do much to change it. So we keep playing the game to ensure our survival even if it means sacrificing who we are and what we stand for. This is, at least, what it seems like to me.
I truly believe that if you misplace energy into fears that the very thing you’re afraid of is exactly what is going to happen. For example, if I’m a jealous person constantly concerned that my partner is going to cheat on me and/or leave me in some way and I begin to put energy into that one fear, letting it drive my decisions and actions, then I’m going to do things that push my partner away. And the one thing I was trying to prevent will happen; it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. And I’ve seen it happen again and again. But fear is powerful. It creeps into the spaces in our minds, works on us when we don’t even realize it.
When I look back at some of the decisions I made in the past, the ones that perhaps made things a bit sideways or weren’t the best ones to make at the time, I made out of fear. Afraid of change, of admitting I’m wrong, of asking for help.
I don’t know exactly how you shake off the fear and become more proactive. I do know that I no longer want to be driven by the fear of what if. I do know that I cannot control anything as hard as I try (why do I keep trying?); why can’t I just let go? Plans/goals make me feel in control. If I can do x,y,z then a,b,c will happen. It’s why I was a good graduate student: fulfill these requirements, take these classes, jump through these hoops. But then there’s a part of me that resisted all that structure, my creative side that pushed against the boundaries while being grateful they existed.
I’ve been thinking about all of this for a while. I’ve been trying to think of strategies, approaches, ways of thinking that will help me complete the necessary requirements (those hoops) but at the same time, allow me to be myself. I think much of my struggle has been about figuring out who I am as a professor. What things are important to me? Where should I direct my energies? What am I willing to bend on? What am I good at?
I think I underestimate myself with that last one and I think I forget how important it is. I think we all do, no matter our job description or role in relationships. We forget so easily that we hold in us amazing things. I’ve said repeatedly that it’s often very weird when I’m sitting among friends and someone will ask me about work and suddenly I remember I have a Ph.D. There’s a odd disconnect for me between how I see myself and make meaning of that degree and how others do. And I wonder if it isn’t because it asks me to embrace publicly, in a way, intellectual capabilities.
Look, I know I’m smart but I can also be incredibly gullible, silly, ridiculous and even dumb at times. I have often taken great pride and comfort in my intellect, embraced “the smart girl persona” when it suited me. So why do I feel so awkward about it, at times? What am I afraid of seeing in myself?
I’m sure I’ve told the story before of the 8th grade teacher who told me I would never be a writer, that I should stop trying so hard. I believed that, due to her “authority,” she was right despite my mother’s urgings that I was talented and creative and shouldn’t let anyone stop me from doing what I loved. I thought my mother was just doing her job as my mother, encouraging me. I stopped sharing my writing for 2 years though I kept journals full of stories and poems. After we moved, my 10th grade English teacher insisted I enter a poetry contest and encouraged me to turn in creative assignments whenever I could.
My mother knew all along how I loved words. She knew there was something about how I saw the world and then relayed it to others that was important. I could never see it through her eyes or my own.
It is so easy to believe all the ways we fail. We can list our faults quickly without thinking. But what about all the places we excel?
You knew this was coming right, from the girl who loves lists.
1. I am creative and have a good imagination.
2. I am good at conversations, small talk, schmoozing.
3. I have a lot of technical skills including web design.
4. I am good at breaking down difficult concepts and theories into manageable and readable pieces.
5. I am good in relationships, most of the time. 
What about you?
| August 13th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under personal, recollections | tagged as love, melancholy, memoir, nostalgia
In the process of moving, things shift, jostle; you go through your stuff, make decisions about what to take, what to give away. Then you unpack and go through your stuff again. I feel exhausted from examining my life in increments. I remember buying that sheet set when I surprised M for our anniversary and cleaned the old (2 places ago) apartment including our bedroom which I littered with rosepetals. The new sheets were on the bed, washed and pressed, comfort and romance all rolled into one. I remember the winter I was so sick and none of the medicine, now expired, was helping. How I wanted an espresso machine that I’ve used maybe three times because it’s harder and more time consuming than it looks to steam milk. Then there are the plethora of pictures that bring up stories: sneaking friends in my truck into the complex where I lived in Orlando because all guests were supposed to be out by 10, a time things were just getting started; the picture of my 2 best friends outside of the shoe store where I worked much of my college career and the place I made most of my friends back then. These moments sit idyllic and en media res as if I could, at any point, jump back in and (re)live inside of them.
I stumbled across my journals while unpacking and until I read one of them I didn’t even remember keeping it. It was 1997, my second semester of college and according to the journals, I spent most of my time sad or angry about something. I was 19. Until I read the journals that comprised much of this time, I had forgotten how lonely I was. This would have been about 4-5 months before I met C, which is another story for another time. This 19-year-old girl was alone and lost, feeling mightily left out because almost all of her friends had boyfriends. And she didn’t.
One of the entries included something like this:
My friends tell me that I am funny and smart and beautiful. I do not believe them. If I were those things then wouldn’t someone else see it? Wouldn’t a guy say those things to me? Wouldn’t I be more than the third wheel?
There are other entries were my friends try setting me up with their brothers or their brothers’ friends. It leaves me empty and convinced something is wrong with me. I know this because there is an entry that asks:
What is wrong with me? I do not know how to flirt, how to accept drinks or phone calls or compliments. N’s brother tells me I look hot in a tank top. I blush and stare at the tiles on the floor of the bar where I am not supposed to be because I am not 21 but the bartender is my friend Misty’s brother and he serves me tonic or sprite with grenadine so it looks like I am drinking with my friends. He is cute and shy and I wish he were talking to me instead of N’s brother. I will never set up my brother on a date with one of my friends. I feel weird and want to go home. Then J walks in and everything changes.
Reading these made me sad. It made me ache. And it made me realize how different I was in my 20′s, how much I have learned since then and also, how some of my students may feel. I also understood how and why meeting C changed me. She was, in fact, all of the things I wasn’t and yet, she thought I was mysterious and aloof. The truth is I was terrified of how much I liked her company, that she would suddenly discover how very uncool I was and decide she couldn’t be involved in friendship or otherwise with me. Seeing my insecurity in my own words and handwriting made me wonder if my current insecurities and feelings of worthiness are not somehow tied up with the girl who wrote those words:
What is wrong with me?
Here is my answer to my 19-year-old self:
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And you don’t realize this is true for sometime. As a matter of fact, it is a truth you tell yourself over and over again like a mantra. I am enough, in this moment, in this time. I am wonderful and lovely for all my flaws and eccentricities, not in spite of them. I know life feels impossible right now. It feels like everyone is happy and content and has their world figured out. They don’t. They just fake it better. You ask questions and daydream and write poetry. It is who you are. There will be a time that exact perfect people come into your life to help you realize how fantastic you have been all along. I wish I could teach you to be that for yourself. But it’s something I’m still figuring out at 32.
I re-discovered how memory is tempered. My recollection of my nineteenth year had been consumed by C as if there was no time in my life before we met. Maybe now I understand why it was so easy and yet so damn hard to be in love.
| August 12th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under daily grind, personal | tagged as friends, life happens, moving
1. I have fantastic friends. Seriously. The amount of love outpoured just in showing up to load the U-Haul even after the horrible mix-up where the truck I reserved in April was somehow not ready when I showed up at 7 a.m., was overwhelming. I was so relieved that packing everything up went so smoothly. And the friends who came the next day and unloaded and helped begin the unpacking process deserve a permanent gold star of friendship.
2. Nothing ever goes as planned. When am I going to embrace and remember this lesson? In one fell swoop all the ideas we had about how the day would go went out the window. In the end, it worked out, but wow, was it stressful.
3. I have too much stuff.
4. The process of going through and examining your life as you put it in boxes, can be deeply fulfilling and revelatory.
5. I hate moths and ants; I don’t mind crickets, maybe because I fished with them growing up.
6. It takes time to feel settled and it’s wonderful to have someone you love in the process with you.
7. Did I mention I have great friends?
| August 2nd, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under daily grind, pop culture | tagged as pop culture, stuff I like
The process of packing requires you to examine your stuff, not stuff like DVDs or books or t-shirts, though I’ve re-discovered some of those, but stuff like the everyday stuff that fills your bathroom and linen closet. I’m talking about the stuff you don’t normally think about even as you use it. Megan Frank talks about this in her column on Soul Pancake. She says, “We think no one will ever see our sock drawers or cleaning products, but the items we have—and the way we keep them—actually add up to a pretty solid picture of the human who owns them.” Perhaps that’s why we all want to sneak a peek at other’s medicine cabinets and drawers.
I’m reading one of my favorite kinds of books to read, non-fiction that makes me think, called Snoop: What Your Stuff Says About You. I just started it though it’s been on my nightstand for weeks. Last week someone tweeted about this article in Psychology Today about how our identity is connected to our stuff, and specifically talked about taste: our taste in music, books, etc. These ideas played a big part in my dissertation research and they’re ideas which still fascinate me. But what I’m talking about here is not the kinds of stuff we choose to read or listen to but rather the stuff we use more frequently, the stuff that maybe we don’t want to admit we have or need like puffy eye reducer or acne spot treatment. Can you cultivate taste in the health/beauty arena the same way you do with music? How much of our identity is connected to this everyday minutiae? What does my choice in shampoo say about who I am?
In the apartment I”m moving out of we have two bathrooms which means we have multiple places for this everyday stuff, which, of course, means you have two or three of everything and you wonder later why you didn’t remember that you already had hairspray and now you’ve got three different kinds and you don’t remember which one you liked best until you use the wrong one.
Taking stock of my everyday minutiae, I’m not quite sure what all of this says about me but here goes:
1. I use three different kinds of shampoo for various purposes. When my scalp is really dry, which is most of the winter and a good part of the summer I use Head & Shoulders Dry Scalp at least once a week. You’d be surprised at how soft it makes my hair. Most everyday I use L’Oreal Everpure Moisture shampoo & conditioner, which smells fantastic. Sometimes when I feel like changing it up, I use Catwalk Oatmeal & Honey, which also smells really good and does a nice job of moisturizing your hair without feeling oily.
I guess what these say about me is that I like variety, that I’ll try things out to find the perfect combination. Or maybe it says I care about my hair, or that I’m indecisive which is also true.
2. For shower gel I use Aveeno Active Naturals Hydrating Fig & Shea Butter Body Wash and Oil of Olay Body Wash with ribbons, (the one pictured is creme ribbons but I’ve used the moisture ribbons and body butter ribbons, both of which I liked).
Again, I need variety.
3. My toothbrush is a Sonicare FlexCare R910 and I use Crest Herbal Mint Whitening Expressions Liquid Gel toothpaste which I suppose suggests that I pay attention to my teeth but it might also suggest that I’m lazy. For example, I can set a feature on the toothbrush that tells me when to stop brushing and the toothpaste does the whitening for me so I don’t have to mess with white strips or bleaching or any other kind of effort.
4. I wash my face with Oil of Olay Sensitive Skin Foaming Face Wash in combination with Oil of Olay Mascara and Makeup Remover (on the rare occasion I wear makeup). I also like Garnier’s skin regimen and use the Skin Renew Anti-Puff Eyeroller nightly.
I use Oil of Olay because my Granny Jones who died at 91 used Oil of Olay lotion every single day and looked much younger than a woman in her nineties when she died. My grandmother swears by it and also does not look her age. So, I’m invested in the brand due to tradition but also because I have tried other face washes and makeup removers, especially those that cater to sensitive skin, and don’t like the way my skin feels afterward. I do like a lot of Garnier’s skin products and have used the Skin Renew Brusher which does a nice job of not drying out the skin while exfoliating or smoothing it. However, the design of the brusher leaves something to be desired and I got water all over the counter while trying to use it. I’m clumsy; what can I say ? Having to twist and push the bottle was a bit complicated for me.
5. I really like Dove deodorant because it doesn’t rub off on my clothes. It isn’t fussy; it gets the job done. I like the cucumber and green tea scent of the Dove Ultimate Go Fresh .
6. I use Bedhead Manipulator to spike my hair. I like this gel because it works. It doesn’t smell terrible nor does it leave a residue like mousse or hairspray.
7. I wear minimal makeup. I like it to feel natural and light. I hate feeling like I’m wearing a mask. I particularly like mineral makeup and have pretty good luck with Maybelline mineral power Natural Perfecting Liquid Foundation. I have used the matte and loose powder, which work nicely. I also really like L’Oreal’s Bare Natural Powder and sometimes use it without foundation, at all. For eyeshadow I will use any and every brand and color combination, depending on my purpose. Right now I’ve been fond of Wet-n-Wild’s Color Icon Trio but I also like Rimmel’s Colour Rush Trio and have several of their shades. I’m picky about mascara and recently discovered L’Oreal’s Extra Volume Collagen Volumizing Mascara . The first time I wore it, someone asked if I was wearing fake eyelashes, so it seems to work pretty well, though I think the person was surprised I was wearing makeup at all. I usually wear lip gloss and I really like L’Oreal’s Colour Juice which I hear they are discontinuing just like they discontinued the last lip gloss I liked that I don’t even remember the name of now.
8. I love perfume and I have several favorites that I move between, depending on the occasion. My most recent favorite is Escada S which I got in one of those sample packs with other Escada perfume and while I like many of the scents, this one is by far my favorite. It isn’t overpowering or incredibly sweet. You could probably wear it as an everyday perfume. It reminds me of something but I don’t know what; I do know that when I wear it, I feel happy and light. If I’m feeling more daring I use Burberry Brit Red. I have loved Burberry perfume since my very first bottle acquired in London. For Christmas, a friend gave me Burberry Brit which I loved even more than the original Burberry. Since then, I discovered Brit Red, which puts that extra “kick-ass” feeling in my step when I wear it. I don’t know if places like Macy’s are carrying Brit Red anymore but I saw some new Burberry scents there recently like Burberry Summer and Burberry Sheer which make me want to try them. I told you I love perfume.
9. I have a lot of lotion meant for moisturizing my ridiculously dry and sensitive skin. M brought me this amazing stuff back from South Africa a few years ago which is a Roobois and Oatmeal lotion; it’s amazing but I don’t want to use it all up. So I supplement with Aveeno Active Naturals Intense Relief Repair Cream which I use once a week because I’m afraid my skin would be too oily otherwise.
10. I am addicted to lip balm and chapstick. The amount of tubes I own is staggering. I end up losing them or putting them in winter coats and forgetting them, never having one when I need it. My favorite is Burt’s Bees. I like the Radiance Lip Shimmer because I get a lip gloss and chapstick in one. At Christmas, someone gave me a 3 pack of EOS lip balm. It looks totally weird but totally worth the looks people give you. It’s also a good conversation starter because someone is going to ask you, “What is that?”
After looking at all of this stuff, I see that most of it is about addressing my needs. My skin is sensitive, dry. I try to take care of it by using products geared to protecting it. I can buy almost everything listed at Walgreen’s. I don’t know that I’m convinced that moisturizer that costs twice what I pay is worth it and yet the hair gel I use is almost 20 dollars. I suppose we all choose what’s important, what meets our needs best. It’s about trial and error, figuring out what works and what doesn’t. But it’s interesting that I know almost immediately if I’m going to like a song or book or TV show whereas it may take a few weeks to decide if a face wash or shampoo is worth it.
I also recognize something I was of which I was already but perhaps forgot: I am a contradiction. Maybe we all are. I think that if we were always the same it would be boring. So somedays we like to be dressy, made up, a new take on ourselves, other days, it’s all about comfort. It’s our prerogative to be changeable, right?
This list of all my everyday stuff makes me feel like I’m high maintenance, and I guess I kind of am, especially in comparison to M who pretty much uses whatever I buy her and is only picky about her face wash and toothpaste and who doesn’t wear makeup or worry about her hair.
I would describe myself as enjoying comfort over trends. Before this I would not have described myself as girly, though I love jewelry and enjoy getting manis and pedis. I wax my eyebrows and like to get dressed up every once in a while. But at my heart I’m a jeans and t-shirts, comfy, flip-flops and running out the door kind of girl. And even when I do dress up, I still want to feel like me. So I have all this stuff, of varying kinds and brands, but it’s not always put to use. It’s there waiting for me when I need it.
What stories are behind your everyday stuff? Why do you use the brands you do? What do you think your everyday minutiae says about you? What do you think this stuff says about me?
| July 28th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under mindful, possibilities | tagged as muchness, reflections
Though I haven’t been posting as regularly as I usually do, I have been reading or trying to, anyway. I frequently read SoulPancake because it asks me to think about “the big questions,” which as an academic, I absolutely love. But the big questions lead me to reflect on smaller things, on my practices, on how I think. Recently, one of their columns explored the ways our obligations often take the fun out of things. Though the column focused on sports and how the pressures of coaches, families, and self expectations can make one forget why playing the game was fun in the first place, the columnist draws connections to other areas of life where this is true.
At the same time, I’ve been participating in the Mondo Beyondo Dream Lab, which reminds us to rest and play and forget all the excuses, all the ways we feel foolish or don’t allow ourselves the time and space we need for play; again, it’s those obligations tripping us up and taking the fun out of what we do.
Never have I needed to hear this message more.
I first signed up for Mondo Beyondo because I felt lost and unsure if I was doing what I’m meant to do. It’s no secret I’ve struggled to find my place since finishing my Ph.D. It’s been a bit of a blow to my self-esteem to struggle this way. School always came easily to me as a student and it hits me at a tender place that I can’t seem to figure out how to be successful on the other side of it, as a professor. Not that I think that teaching should be easy, but I also did not expect the depth of doubt surrounding the career I’ve chosen for myself and toward which I’ve worked so hard and so long. I began to wonder if I had it all wrong. I needed new perspectives, a new way to understand myself.
I continue to have doubts even as I begin to plan for next semester. I worry that I won’t find my way back to the passion I felt when I decided to pursue teaching as a career. I want to make a difference and I find myself overly ambitious in this regard. I am beginning to realize, however, that maybe all the obligations of the job (tenure track, evaluations, committee meetings, other duties) has simply taken the fun out of what I do. I have, as Alice once did, lost my muchness. Sadly, my job began to feel like one and though teaching doesn’t necessarily have the same connections to play that golf or tennis or other careers do, I think there’s something to be said for considering some new obligations that have some stronger ties to play and fun.There are goals the courses I teach have to meet, of course, but that’s in planning and assignments; these can be built in. But, what if my main obligation every day in class was to have fun ? What if I am doing the exact thing I’m meant to do? How does that change my approach to each day?
I love this post by Amy Oscar because she challenges us to think that way, to acknowledge that maybe we are doing the exact thing we’re meant to and there are ways we can do so more fully, more aware, more on purpose.
How would your life, your job, your relationships change if you believed and practiced the idea that you are exactly where you are for a purpose? Would you be preparing for success rather than failure? Would you get back your muchness?
| July 24th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under personal, possibilities, space | tagged as life happens, moving
So much is swirling around in my brain lately. We’re moving in less than 2 weeks (just down the street) and my entire apartment is in disarray. Unfortunately with M working 2 jobs it’s been up to me to do much of the packing and let’s face it, I’m not great at organization, especially when it comes to packing. Still, I persevere and we have boxes packed; not as many as there needs to be but that’s how it goes most days. The process of going through, choosing what to keep, what to donate, what to throw away is taxing. It dredges up memories and moments and what ifs. What if I get rid of this and need or want it one day? What if I wish I had those shoes or that shirt?
I once heard an organizer on Oprah, (I think) say that if you’re holding on to items for “one day” or because they hold memories of the past then how can you live in the now? There’s probably something to that and since I’ve been focusing this year on “living in the moment,” I have taken extra thought about what I hang on to. I know the things we carry from place to place mean something; they tether us. M used to be able to move everything she owned in the back of her old Ford Escort. But now, well… it takes a 17 foot truck and weeks of packing.
I am trying not to get bogged down in the details and instead focus on the possibilities and all those reasons I was excited about moving in the first place. But gosh, it’s hard work.
| July 20th, 2010
Posted by Dev | Filed under letter, personal | tagged as letter, nostalgia, reflections
I’ve written a few letters to myself, my younger self, and myself now. It’s an insightful exercise to think about how close and yet how far you are from the girl you once were. I have spent a significant amount of time trying to both distance myself and get closer to the girl I was/have been. For now, I want to create a connection between then and now.
This letter is to my specific 20-year old self because I was probably in the need for some very specific words at 20.
Dear 20-year-old self,
Though I know you’re probably not incredibly interested in hearing any more advice on your life, as your future self there are some things I must tell you.
You have people in your life, right now, at this very moment who will change you forever. And you will change them, as well. You will still be friends with at least one of them and will look back on this particular time in your life and talk about how amazing it was. Yeah, I know, it’s hard to believe because everything seems so raw and overwhelming right now. It will feel that way for some time. Make an effort to revel in what you are feeling rather than trying to hide from it.
Soon, you will be leaving for 6 months in Orlando, to work at Disneyworld. This will not be the experience you thought it would and you aren’t going to be completely happy with the decisions you make even while you’re making some of them. However, you create fantastic friendships and have a lot of stories to tell; this will sustain you when you’re beating yourself up about all the things you could have done better. This time is important because you learn all that you don’t want for your life. It takes you a while to begin the steps that will make great things possible, but once you start, you succeed tremendously. You already have in you, right now, everything it takes to be happy.
I want you to know how incredibly fantastic you are. I also know you probably won’t believe me but I’m saying it anyway. You don’t have to be high or drunk for people to like you, for you to be witty or clever nor do you need to numb yourself in order to hide all you’re feeling. You are enough, just as you are. You are daring and tough and smart and intimidating. Your hair is sometimes purple and long and when you walk into a room people notice mostly because of your smile but sometimes because of your boobs. That’s okay, too. You may think you aren’t thin enough or pretty enough despite what anyone tells you. You don’t see all the ways you’re noticed, all the ways your body is appreciated. It’s okay to wear tight t-shirts and baggy jeans and be flirtatious with boys you will never, ever sleep with.
You are terrified right now of what you are feeling and the relationship you are in doesn’t make sense to you in the way you think it should. In fact, nothing in your life feels the way you thought it would. You aren’t sure of what it means to experience the emotions welling within you. But you’re more afraid of not feeling, at the same time. Right now, it seems like you are on a roller coaster and you aren’t sure if you can stay on. You may not be in control of the ride but you are in control of how you respond to the experience, including how long you’re in the seat before moving on to the next one. I will say this, the relationship becomes significant because you followed your heart, to start with.
You impulsively and bravely create a chain of events that will take you places both emotionally and physically that you could have never imagined. I have to let you in on a secret: one of those places is Paris, the city you thought would give you all the answers. It does, but (yet again), it isn’t the ones you expect. Sometimes the answers you find, and life in general feel confusing and sad and desperate, but you become very good at following your heart. I wish I were better at it now at 32.
It seems you make a lot of big decisions for us and I forgot just how much I owe you.
So, thanks. Thanks for all those late nights at your friends’ houses talking about everything you could possibly think of, and for being a good friend, a confidante and secret-keeper. Thanks for acting, doing, going and saying yes instead of wondering what if. All the times you worry if you’re doing the right thing, or moving in the right direction, work out in the end.
I know there are times you feel like you are waiting for your life to begin and that if this one thing or that one thing happens then you’ll feel like it’s really started. I have to tell you, it’s already begun. Right now, at this very moment the simple acts of your daily routine is life already begun. You will have so many adventures and experiences that shape you and each one is a piece of a larger puzzle, a piece of us. But it’s the everyday stuff you enjoy like feeding ducks in the park or visiting the museum again, making sandwiches for friends in your grandmother’s kitchen, eating at the counter like you did when you were a kid; these moments define you just as much as the decisions you make to leave the South, and return and leave again. It is these moments I am grateful for when I look at you, my 20-year-old self because you made time to do all the things you felt like doing.
I began this letter by thinking I was going to give you advice. But I’m learning that you just might have some things to teach me.
One last secret: you are blissfully and complexly happy in the future. And though life is never what you imagine, it’s so much better.
So, continue on the journeys you’ve mapped out for yourself. You’ll have a lot of fun if you just let go. Don’t worry if it feels like you’re always falling, you know how to land on your feet.
| July 14th, 2010
