I TURNED 41

Snuggles

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Michael said something a day or two ago about how I didn't write anything about my birthday. I shrugged and said "Huh, I guess I didn't." and then I kind of shuffled away. My birthday was a non-event this year. We went out to a fancy dinner the Sunday before where we ate snails and I drank two Pimm's cups. The day of my birthday, I took Josephine to the groomer and I met with my massage therapist where I laid on a biomat filled with healing crystals and voodoo. Michael took his truck in to get a hitch installed and I picked him up so he wouldn't have to wait around all day. We went to lunch, cheap vietnamese food and then I spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch watching Hell on Wheels.

This is fine. I am not upset about any of it. Sure, I have had better birthdays. Remember that time just before I interviewed for this job when I requested a strawberry cake and Audra said strawberries were not in season? I thought I was getting something else and when I cut into it, it was all pink. It was a surprise strawberry cake! That was a good birthday. I have also had worse birthdays, as many of you well know. So when Michael said something about me not writing an entry for that day, what I should have told him was that there was nothing really to write about. Actually, that is how I feel in general right now. In fact I have deleted three different entries, one was a list of things I didn't do last week, one was woe is me tale of birthdays, and one was regarding the camper. We freaked out about the camper we were buying and have since downgraded back to the original pop-up. We get it on Saturday. 

Here are some things that have taken up so much space in my brain over the last two weeks:

• The camp trailer. The size of said camp trailer. Hauling that camp trailer. Parking that camp trailer in the driveway. This problem has been solved.
• Politics. Confirmation hearings. Cabinet members who have been chosen to head cabinets they are totally against. Losing the Affordable Care Act. The gag order issued to scientists to not discuss their work or publish data. A wall that Mexico is not going to pay for, but funding will probably come from dismantling the National Endowment for the Arts. The loss of our National Parks. The list really looks like this woman's sign.

• Building a yoga workshop on straps and maybe blocks. I lugged my giant yoga binder from teacher training out of the basement and started a list of poses. I have an idea for a handout that I need to build and then get that list of poses organized into a lesson. I will do this before February.
• Updating my life list or taking it down. I haven't looked at that thing in years. It is outdated and i haven't been keeping track of things like how many museums I've been too. There's also items on the list that are just plain sad now. I should do something about that.
• Starting a science lesson entry blog post. I thought I'd write up something about the Scientific Method and how to apply that method. Maybe give people a better understanding of what goes into the process of preparing data and information for publication. 
• The idea that I'm sitting in a hamster wheel, just spinning and go nowhere. That idea is totally unfair because I have been busy doing science and making progress in that science. I have been active with rallies and contacting my Senator every day. Thursday evening is the AIDS Walk Kick Off party and Terry has asked me to be a photographer since the original guy bailed out. I am worried that I am not an aggressive enough photographer for this job, but it is all part of being a volunteer. I am busy.

I think that's it. 

AND PUT ON A HAPPY FACE

I think I'm going to start a Birthday tradition with this Pimm's cup #westportcafekcmo

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I have a cold/sinus infection. I'm not going to say it is the flu because I got a flu shot this year and, By Golly, I'm not about admit that I got stabbed in the arm for no reason. All this is just a build up of mucus that's irritating the top back of my throat while at the same time making the insides of my ears itch. The cold medicine, while not really doing much to get rid of that mucus, has coated my entire head in cotton candy. Not so much delicious cotton candy, but super sticky cotton candy. It's making it hard for me to be here. Also, I don't have much to say. 

Saturday, we went to the Mid America RV show and learned that we could tow something a little bigger than the original popup we had intended on purchasing. This left us with more questions than answers. So we left the RV show and drove way out to the east side of town to visit the dealership where we were probably going to buy so we could look at the RV they didn't have at the show, but did have in the show room. Then we filled out paperwork and put down a deposit and I started to worry about how it was going to fit in the driveway and how we were going to make monthly payments. Then Katrina bought me this super cute retro camper plate set to go in the new camper and I looked at Michael and said "the driveway is not my problem...it's YOUR problem." I just sort of handed him all of the things I was worrying over. Some time in the next two or three weeks we will have a camp trailer parked in our driveway and we are going to have all of the blocks in place to keep it from rolling down hill and into the street.

After that, we drove all the way over to the exact opposite side of town to go to IKEA. We bought a new bookcase system to store the stereo/turntable and records. The old bookcase was leaning slightly and then when we dragged it out of the way, it exploded. No...it just fell apart. We replaced it just before a disaster. At the same time we purchased the bookcase, we also purchased a full length mirror to hang on the bathroom door. We can now see our whole bodies in a reflection. I am not convinced that this was a good purchase. This body will be forty one on Friday. This soon to be forty one year old body has turned shy and would just rather not know what is happening from the neck down. Though, I'm not so sure about the neck up part any more because we just replaced two burnt out bulbs in the bathroom with LED bulbs that say they are "soft white" but we all know that's not true. 

Friday, I have a visit with my lulu massage therapist and Josephine has an appointment to get her hair cut. I have planned nothing else for the day except maybe a matinee of La La Land. We bought an RV for my birthday and a mirror to remind us we are visually growing older. What more does a girl need? 

THE BARE NECESSITIES

I have the worst hangover but Indian Food on New Year's Day tradition is making me human again

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Well, it's officially January and a new year. It's that time when everyone starts talking about getting healthy, losing weight, getting organized and quitting bad habits. Resolutions. You guys know me. I'm not one for making resolutions, more like "I'll trys", but this year I'm not even sure I'm ready to make those. I've been thinking about this a lot over the last few months. Sure there are things I want to work on like photography and getting rid of things that do not serve me well.  Writing, writing, writing. I should get a new prescription for my eyeglasses so I can see street signs. I most certainly need a boob check ( I skipped it this year) and a freckle check (I've got to stop looking at every spot on my arm and thinking it's cancer). I did a lot of traveling in 2016 without Michael. I'd like to fix that in 2017. These are simple things, the usual things, that I talk about doing every year. 

New Year's Eve, a group of us were sitting down to dinner and Terry said something about ending the night by having naked pictures of us all. Michael told Terry that there are already naked pictures of me out there. I looked them up for Terry to see and everyone at the table admired the photos. I took those photos almost ten years ago. Michael commented later that I am smaller now then when I took those pictures. I could not disagree with him, yet it has been years since I have exposed myself in front of a camera. This is not about nudey pictures or pornography. It is about having a certain kind of confidence or boldness. I realized as I looked through those old pictures that at some point between then and now, I have lost that confidence and that boldness. I can't even consider myself to be all that brave any more because I never really put myself into a position that requires it. 

So this year, I'm breaking my own rules about resolutions. I resolve to get up every morning with the intention of being my best self. I resolve to ask myself three questions at the end of the day: What have I done to brighten someone's day today? Have I actively listened to those around me? What have I done to brighten my day today? I want to be able to answer those questions with good answers and not just with an "I don't know". I resolve to regain some of that confidence and boldness that I used to have. I resolve to allow myself to be in a position where I can possibly fail and I resolve to allow failure to happen. This means creating a yoga workshop that no one may attend, building a shop for my photos that no one may buy and handing out my personal business cards while knowing that they are just going to get thrown in the garbage. It also means finishing some writing projects that no one may ever read. 

I've always felt that resolutions are just setups for failure. Maybe it's time to let myself fail a little. 

THE YEAR IN PICTURES

I'm not going to say that 2016 was the worst. Trust me when I say that I have had way worse years then this last one, but 2016 has kind of sucked. I saw a headline about how Generation Xers have lost a lot of childhood touch stones this year. I don't know how many times I watched Labyrinth and wished with my whole hear that David Bowie would one take my virginity. There were so many summer drives through back country roads with the windows down while blaring Little Red Corvette. I used to joke about how cute and teeny Prince was, how he was so tiny, he'd fit my pocket. I suppose the final nail has been the death of Carrie Fisher. Carrie portrayed a character that every little girl wanted to be, but it was listening to Letters To Grandma while driving across Texas that will stick with me for an eternity. 2016 has been hard on our celebrity icons, but it has been all that great globally either. There was Brexit and more terrorist attacks, refugees, Aleppo, and the division of a country. 

Yet, personally, I can say that 2016 was not so bad and I have pictures to prove it. My wish for 2017 is that we can bring some peace to this world. My wish for 2017 is to bring more happiness to my world. May you all have a safe and wonderful New Year.

SAAAAAAAT NAM

Black bird sing

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Sat Nam is a mantra that basically translates into "I am the truth" or "My true self". When it is chanted, the sat part is drawn out long like "saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat" and then the nam is short. I just keep picturing a muppet with his hinged mouth open and his head swaying back and forth as he says "saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat". There's also some movements of his spindly arms happening as well. I came across this mantra in an article I was reading about ten mantras to memorize. I liked this one for two reasons. First of all it's short. Secondly, I like the idea of just sitting there saying "saaaaaaaaaaaaaat" because you're sitting and chanting "saaaaaaaaat" and that's just funny.

Honestly this introduction to Sat Nam was just meant to be a segue to an entry about chakras and chanting. I've been doing some chakra specific order of yoga poses lately in my practice and I finish it all up with the sounds associated with each chakra. At first it felt kind of silly to be sitting in a public space while quietly humming through the chakras, but then I just got over it. There's all kinds of noises happening in that gym. My quiet humming just blends into the back ground. Also, who cares? I don't. So I've been humming away because it makes me smile. It makes me feel good. As far as the chakra poses go, I have no idea if they're making a difference. I mean, I might have an idea, but not a clear idea.

Then today, after solving [(ug/MW) x 1000] x MR divided by 7.94 (which by the way equals 5.8 micro liters, which is the amount of molecular dye I need to bind to 100 micro grams of protein, this is my job) I rewarded myself by reading through the mantra article. I took a moment to really enjoy the idea of saying "saaaaaaaaaaaaaat nam" before noticing what it even meant. The translation set off a tiny existential crisis. Am I the truth or being my true self? Maybe I'm attracted to the mantra because I need to remind myself to be my true self? Who am I? Who do I want to be? How do I want people to see me or not see me? What kind of butterfly do I want to turn into? Or would I rather be a moth or a beetle? I'm forty years old, almost forty one. Am I too old for reinvention? Madonna is fifty eight years old and constantly reinventing herself, but I am not Madonna. My life career is not dependent on reinvention. 

When I say tiny existential crisis, I mean that all of those above thoughts zipped by in seconds, micro seconds even. They were only around long enough to recognize that those thoughts exist, only long enough to very briefly question myself, before I'm back to that image of the muppet. Now that I think about it, I think I'd really enjoy watching a muppet yoga series. But really truly, all of this is a practice in writing. Because I'm stuck in that moment just before Christmas where it's too early to post about looking back on 2016 and I've got nothing to blog about. I feel like I should write something just to keep my brain from molding over. As a results, you now know that some times at work I have to do really hard math and there's a mantra of self truth. 

I'm thinking of yelling this mantra every time someone posts a fake news story. SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT NAM!

SCIENCE ADVOCACY

Tiny pine cone.

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The conference I attended in San Francisco had a couple of different sessions on Science Advocacy. The first one I sat in on was a talk by Ann Reid from the National Center for Science Education. The title of the discussion was "How to solve a problem like science denial?" and she talked about how science deniers are threatened by science and the information that comes from scientific discovery. I sat there listening to numbers and percentages I'd heard before like how 25% of the population does not believe the earth revolves around the sun and I was somewhere between on the verge of bursting into tears and throwing up. This talk was not so much "Hey! Look at how cool science can be!" and more "How to deal with confrontations because people are now going to think you are a witch and not a scientist." I had visions of angry mobs with pitch forks. 

There was an emphasis in this talk on making yourself (the scientist) less threatening. Scientists often say things that conflict with core values. A good example is the topic of evolution. Evolution conflicts with religion and beliefs and those kind of people either believe in evolution or they don't. The 'believing in science' thing is a phrase that I struggle with. Science is not a faith based religion. There's no believing in the facts that come through scientific discovery. Yet, that angry mob I am envisioning are not thinking analytically. Dr. Reid gave the audience some really good advice on dealing with people who do not think analytically. She told us to ask questions and listen respectfully and be personal. She showed this graph that shows how people see scientists as competent, but not particularly warm. We don't illicit comforting feelings. In fact, we're seen as the second most competent job but with the warmth level just above a lawyer. 

So, the second session on Science Advocacy, which turned out to be a table discussion, was all about how to turn socially awkward scientists into more personable, lovable creatures. This session turned out to be not at all what I thought it was going to be. I thought I'd be sitting in an audience, listening to someone talk about how to develop a two-minute speech that would convey what I do as a scientist without being threatening. Instead, I walked into a table discussion where me and Sarah (we tagged along together to this) were placed at one of the front tables. The guy moderating our table looked at us and said "Let's hear your pitch!" and flames whooshed up my neck and into my cheeks as I stammered for actual words as opposed to the sounds of "uh...uh..um..." that I was making. 

Here's the thing. I don't talk about what I do. Period. I do not talk to Michael about what I do. I do not talk to family about what I what I do. I do not talk to friends about what I do. I just don't talk about what it is I actually do as a scientist with anyone. I noticed a long time ago that when someone would ask me what it was that I do for a living and I said "research scientist" their eyes immediately glazed over or they would nod their head and say "that's nice." before turning and walking away. I have heard "Is she speaking English?" from people as I have talked about some aspect of my job. I do not talk about what I do because I have yet to come up with a simple way of explaining what it is that I do without being condescending. I suppose, if pressed, I could write something about what I do, but at that moment when the mediator at our table said "GO!" I could not form a complete sentence or even say the word 'microscopy'.

My friend told me this story about an interaction she'd had with a small child recently. The child was holding a garden hose and then asked Heather where the water came from. Heather started explaining the water cycle to the small boy when his grandma walked over and looked Heather in the eye while she turned on the water faucet. The kid just wanted the water on and had zero interest in evaporation and condensation. In general though, I feel like this is what it is like for any scientist who has been pressed to explain their work. In order to explain my work, I feel like I need to give you ALL of the information including the big picture part because my work is just a small part of that big picture. My part in the water cycle is turning on the tap or pumping that water to the tap. The questions scientists are asking are big and complicated questions that can't be answered all at once. We have to take small chunks out of the big question. That's what I do. I work on a small chunk of a much greater question. Hopefully the answer to the small chunk leads to answers in solving the big ones like curing cancer or Alzheimer's. 

In the meantime, I'm going to be sitting over here working on my two-minute pitch so I look less like witchcrafty when the angry mob shows up. 

THE STORY OF THIS PICTURE

Seriously, Chinatown?!

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There was a break for lunch during the conference and Sarah and I walked up to Chinatown. Along the way, we stopped for a berry ice cream crepe from a food truck that was in a line of food trucks that made us regret our lunch choice. We made it to the Chinatown Gate where we stopped to take pictures and to check the time. After checking the time, Sarah and I decided to continue up the street. The street running up through the Chinatown Gate is the touristy side of Chinatown. This street is lined with tourist trap trinket shops and stores filled with elaborately gaudy crystal/glass chandeliers and sculptures. 

I didn't mind this walk. I knew that I would be back and that this was just a toe dip into Chinatown. We passed by shops with their wares spilling out onto the sidewalk. Racks of postcards. Tables of plastic snow globes. Racks of cards with names written in Chinese. I spotted Chris's name in passing and snapped a quick picture. It was later, while I was sitting in on talks about cell migration, when I looked back at the pictures I'd taken during that walk to edit them and maybe post some of them that I noticed it. That quick snap of Chris's name written in Chinese included me. There it was. Chris and Cindy, sitting right next to each other on the card rack. I whispered "fuck you, Chinatown" under my breath. 

Later, Heather and I were driving around California in the rain. Our plan was to some how sneak some of Chris's ashes onto Skywalker Ranch. As we buckled up, Heather asked "is Chris with us?" I paused with an eyebrow raised and then remembered that she meant Chris's ashes and replied with a chuckle and a "yes". I thought for a minute that she was asking if Chris was present on a spiritual level, hovering somewhere in the car. The image of it and the idea of Chris as a ghost made me laugh. You know Chris would be the most silly, ridiculous ghost. He'd be the kind of ghost that would make a slurping sound every time you went to drink something. Because that's the kind of thing he did when he was living. I'm pretty sure I heard is Dr. Zoidberg impersonation as I hopped out of the car to hastily dump his ashes at the gate of Skywalker Ranch. Heather pretended to read a map because we knew there had to be hidden cameras watching our shenanigans. It's the worst leaving of Chris picture I've taken. 

Is Chris with us? Fortunately and unfortunately. Even when I'm not thinking about it or expecting it, Chris shows up some how in some tiny way. It is equal parts lovely and hateful. The true definition of bittersweet. Mostly, at least lately, things seem more sweet than bitter. 

KITTY CAT

Storage solutions

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When we go out of town, I fill a large bowl with cat food and place it in the basement. Then I make sure the big outside water dish is full of fresh water. The last thing I do is close up the dog door that leads from the garage into the kitchen. Albus still has access to the garage and the basement. He just doesn't have the opportunity to drag in any half dead creatures that he can slowly dismember on our living room rug or worse, our new couch. That's the thing about cats. You can just put out a bowl of food and leave them to fend for themselves, particularly if you already have the type of cat that only seems to love you when his food bowl has an empty spot in it. 

I say that about how much Albus seems to not care about our existence, but when ever we return from our trips, Albus is right there meowing at us and rubbing his head on the dog. He really does appear to have missed us. This is usually one of those moments that make my heart soften for the cat and I look at him and say things like "Did you miss us kitty?" as I scratch the top of his head. On normal days, I am usually cursing the cat, most likely because I am scooping up squirrel parts into a trash bag. He's taken to sleeping on my new desk and he's filthy. I'm pretty sure he's got fleas and he always seems to be at his most loving at 3:30 AM. 

We got home Friday evening from spending a few days in Oklahoma. We were exhausted from our long drive and had a car full of stuff to unload. I opened the door and let Josephine into the house before walking to the kitchen to open the dog door. I fully expected Albus to be sitting just on the other side of that door, waiting for us, but there was no Albus. We unloaded the car, unpacked suitcases and put leftovers into the fridge. Still no Albus. Michael and I settled in on the couch to catch up on some TV. Still no Albus. Several hours went by and there was still no sign of that cat. I started to get worried. I peaked into the basement and called his name. I sat on the back step looking into the backyard.

Ever since Albus entered this family, we knew that there might be a day when he just didn't come home. He's an inside/outside cat. He's really more outside than inside. We don't even have to clean out his litter box any more. The world's a dangerous place. We have a pack of pitbulls chained up in the yard behind us. There's opossums and raccoons that roam the neighborhood and the street we live on is a high traffic road. The cat lives a dangerous life out there. I thought about all of these things while I sat there on the back step. I thought "well...this is it. we've lost our cat." and I felt a little sad about it. Honestly, I felt a lot sad about it. I went back inside the house and was just about to say something to Michael about it when I heard a "meow". I looked behind me and there was Albus. This time as I scratched the top of his head, I said "Oh kitty! I'm so happy to see you!" 

And a few hours later, when I went down to the basement to get the laundry basket and I found him dismembering a squirrel, I didn't really mind that much. 

EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!

CBS Sunday Morning, New York Times, coffee and a puppy. Sundays are real good around here.

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My Dad brought the newspaper home with him every day. On Sundays, he would drive over to the QT and pick up the Sunday paper before church. Only when church service was over and the family had eaten Sunday dinner, would he then retire to his recliner to read the Sunday paper. If I retain one memory of my Dad it will probably be the one of him sitting in his recliner, surrounded by the Sunday paper. As he'd finish a section, he'd hand it over to Mom who would be sitting in her recliner and she'd read bits of it before passing it on to me. When I was small, I would sit on Dad's lap and he would read the comics to me. When I was taller, I would lean over his shoulder and read the comics with him. Then, when I reached my teens and I considered myself to be too mature to lean over Dad's chair to read the comics, Dad would hand me the comics and say things like "You've got to read Marmaduke today. He's really funny." or "Check out Mother Goose. It will make you giggle." He was always right. 

A few weekends ago, Michael and I were sitting at a booth in a restaurant waiting for our food to be delivered when Michael mentioned something about John Oliver's list. One thing John Oliver said in that episode that was not on that list was to invest in reliable news sources. He recommended getting a subscription to the New York Times or the Washington Post. Michael said he had been thinking that maybe we should get a subscription to the New York Times and I said that I had been thinking the very same thing. So while we waited for food, we did some research on the different kinds of NY Times subscriptions and decided on the Sunday edition. We get a print paper on Sundays and online access to all articles. The first one arrived yesterday.

I got up early Sunday morning and started the coffee maker before I peeped out the front door window. There was our paper, resting in a plastic bag at the end of our drive. I put a coat on over my pajamas and pulled on my slippers. Then I walked down our long driveway to retrieve our Sunday paper. I couldn't help but smile as I walked back up the drive, plastic bag in hand so that the paper swayed back in forth as I trudged up the hill. Once inside, I poured myself a cup of coffee, turned on the TV for CBS Sunday Morning and opened up our Sunday paper. And suddenly, my Sunday morning became a moment not unlike my Saturday mornings when I sit down at Heirloom with my Fortune Cookie journal. I read the front page article on Fidel Castro. I read the article about Tao Porchon-Lynch, the world's oldest yoga teacher I've talked about recently. I read about the come back of musicals with the help of movies like La La Land. I also read two great opinion pieces on the theater's involvement with politics and the relationship between cast and audience in response to Brandon Victor Dixon's message to V.P. Elect Pence.

I didn't finish reading everything. I left the things read in one pile for Michael and still have the travel section and bits of others to get through. I didn't get to the comics or the Sudoku puzzle. Michael started on the crossword puzzle last night. He's been reading articles online since we got our subscription. It's safe to say that we're both pleased at punch with our subscription. But as I sat on the couch with my Sunday paper spread out all around my,  I saw my Dad, sitting in his recliner surrounded by newspaper.  

FOCUS

Tilt shift

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I know it is still early to be thinking about the new year, but next week is Thanksgiving and that means November is practically over. I'll be traveling to San Francisco the first week of December for a conference. Then I'll stay a few extra days to hang out with my friend Heather. I think there's a cabin in the woods thing that's going to happen. I'm sure there's going to be lots of laughing happening. Laughing happening. I like that. Any hoo, I know December will roll through in a blink and I'll be staring 2017 right in the eye. I want to be able to do that staring with a fierce intensity while puffing out my chest and saying 'bring it!'.  Many of us may feel the same way after the shitty shit storm of 2016. 

There are some specific things I would like to focus on in the next year. Not really resolutions, just some self improvement and life improvement things. The usual. I've been wasting a whole lot of time scrolling through facebook lately. I find that any time I'm looking at a blank page or the start of the next sentence, I end up opening facebook instead of just looking at a blank page or figuring out that next sentence. I use it to fill the moments in between moments, maybe because I'm bored, maybe just to use it as a distraction. I don't know, because I'm not really reading anything there as much as I'm just scrolling through looking at ridiculous pictures and shaking my head at all the fake news headlines that I see people posting. I have resisted the urge to say "you people will believe anything." more times than I can count. Yet, there I am just scrolling on through it and it is dumb. I have exceeded the appropriate amount of time one should be wasting in that space. 

So, for the next year, I'd like to focus less with online wastefulness and more time behind my camera lens, more time writing and more time spreading a more positive message. I have been talked into doing a yoga workshop on the use of yoga straps. I'm planning this for February or at least having a class plan by February. This is going to require me to dig out my giant teacher binder and doing some refresher research. I don't even know if I remember how to teach a regular class let alone devote two or three hours to teaching a whole workshop, but we're going to find out. I am not backing out or saying no. I am doing this. In the first few months of the next year, I will focus more on yoga and the art of teaching yoga. Then I want to follow this up with a focus on more yoga for my personal life with an emphasis on being healthy (more greens, less cheese). 

Michael's been nudging me to find a way to sell some of my prints, but the truth is I feel like I'm totally faking this photography hobby of mine. I still rely heavily on my iPhone, though I know there's nothing wrong with that, but I have a really nice camera with two really nice lenses. I want to focus on getting to know that camera better. I'm thinking of doing a beginners photography class and giving myself a weekly assignment that I share here. I would also like to get a few photo editing apps on my iPad so I can edit photos while I am traveling. Travel is going to be another big focus for next year, not just for me but for Michael as well. We are itching to put miles on the truck and to see the country. And I want to photograph all of it. Maybe then I can think about selling prints, like that could be a focus for 2018.

You guys, I am so close to finishing a story. I don't know what the fate of this story is going to be, but it's something I am finishing. I really really really want to focus on that. I want to focus on finishing something I've started. In fact just writing that sentenced made me feel like anything is possible in 2017, in a good way. What does all this focus mean for the blog? I am hoping it means writing more thoughtful entries. This is the space where I can spread a more positive message and I'm going to work hard at doing that. Also, how else are you guys going to keep up with all our travels. I just want to build a nicer space here. I want to build a nicer space inside my own head and inside my own heart. 

I want to build a nicer space. 

URBAN HIKERS

Get outside!✔️

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Saturday morning I woke up with this idea that maybe we'd head out to a park for an urban hike. I voiced this idea to Michael when he finally crawled out of bed around noon. He took on that tone of voice he likes to use when he doesn't really want to do anything that's not his idea, so I bribed him with lunch. We ended up at Char Bar where we had unusually odd service and for the first time ever, sent something back because we didn't like it. I had ordered a side of cheesy grits. The grits were crunchy. The waiter told me that's how they make them. Every one of my southern dead relatives spun around in their graves and I could hear Chad yell all the way from Chattanooga "the Fuck?!?" Also, he would never put cheese in his grits.

Anyway, after lunch we headed back to the car and Michael decided that he desperately wanted a hot tea. We were passing a coffee shop as he decided this, but when we got inside he couldn't find hot tea on the menu. We left and then went to another place. This place was closed. Then we headed south on Maine with the intention of just going to Starbucks even though it was out of the way, but saw another coffee shop. So we we stopped at this coffee shop that smelled more like pretentious hipster than coffee. They did not have hot tea, but I ordered an Americano and while I waited (twenty minutes) for my cup of coffee, Micheal continued down to Starbucks. He came back to get me without a tea because he didn't want to wait in line of seventeen cars deep. 

Fine.

We headed towards the park, but Michael was still looking around for a place to get a hot tea. We were now in a run down urban area that for certain is not going to have a coffee or tea shop and he's grumbling. Then he spots a Seven Eleven. He parks the car outside the store and tells me to lock the car behind him. We are in that kind of neighborhood. He walks into the Seven Eleven just as the cashier is busting a guy for shoplifting. Again, we're in that kind of neighborhood. He fills a large cup with hot water and dunks in a bag of Lipton tea and is pleased as punch. His giant cup of tea cost $1 while my tiny cup of pretentious coffee was $4. He wanted to be sure to point that out. Finally he had his tea and we were on our way to the park. Then we got a little lost, made u-turn and two left turns and finally made it to Kessler Park. 

The annoyances of that last three hours floated away. We slid down the giant slide. We walked around the Colonnade that was built in 1908 and admired the Eternal Flame JFK Memorial established in 1965. We hiked down a trail coated in fallen leaves that took us into a wooded area and looped back around to the Colonnade. And all was well. We walked quietly and relaxed back to our car to make our way home. And discovered that I had stepped in the stinkiest animal poop. It was plastered all up inside the waffle bottoms of my shoe. We drove home with the windows rolled down. 

It was a lovely day. 

EVERYTHING'S SO EASY FOR PAULINE

Instagram photo by Cindy Maddera * Nov 9, 2016 at 8:23pm UTC

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 4 likes

It is seven thirty on a brisk Saturday morning. I am standing in line at Heirloom waiting my turn to place my order, the same order I place every Saturday: biscuit sandwich with egg, white cheddar and pesto and a cup of coffee. On this day, there's a young woman and a couple in front of me in line. I hear the young lady, who is obviously friends with the couple, say "Oh! I left my wallet with my purse. Let me go get it." I watch her walk towards a table. She places her hand on her toddler's head who is sitting in a highchair as she reaches for her purse. My focus turns back to the couple she's left waiting in line. 

I notice the woman's shoes first, stylish heeled bootlets. She's wearing skinny jeans or leggings that look like jeans with a fur vest that I can only hope is fake, but looks real. I almost want to reach out and pet her vest, just to see if I can tell if it is real fur or not. Her long blond hair is perfectly combed and curled, not a strand out of place and her makeup looks like it was applied by a professional. The woman is bouncing a drooly baby in her arms, alternating between saying things to her husband like "Ooh, let's get one of those poptarts!" and baby talking to her baby. "Who's the cutest thing in the world? Who is?" She continues this back and forth exchange even after her husband starts to place the order. 

Her friend comes back with her wallet and steps in line behind me. I turn to her and tell her to go ahead. She looks at me and says with surprise "Are you sure?!?" I shake my head and say "Yes. You guys are together. You should order with them." She says "thank you!" as she steps in front of me in the line. I notice that she is dressed in a similar fashion: skinny jeans/leggings and a sweater instead of a fur vest. The difference is, she is not pristine. Her sweater is twisted to one side with the belt hanging loose to drag near the floor. Her heeled boots are more worn looking and her hair is already escaping the clip she'd used to pin it back. She seems tired and slouches and in fact she had to walk back to the table twice because she'd forgotten the first time why she had even gone over there. 

I couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic for the disheveled friend. I could tell she was trying and I also knew that if she had not been meeting her friends there on this morning, she would have been content to be there in her sweats with her hair pulled into a messy pony tail. The one bouncing the baby in her arms just made it look too easy, too perfect. I wanted to whisper to the woman in front me "it's not a competition. you are equally beautiful." I could sense the small of wave of frustration as she looked at her friend bouncing that baby and how easy she made it all look. And again, I wanted to whisper in her ear "it is not as easy for her as she makes it look. your friend has bad days too." I wanted to tell her those things not so that she would find comfort in her friend's possible bad days, but so that she would find ease in the knowledge that she is not alone in her struggles. 

We are not alone in our struggles. Some of us just have days where we are better at hiding it than others. 

WRITE HERE

This is Halloween

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That's what it says in this block before I start writing. 'Write here...' Right here. Sometimes I roll both of those thing around in my head for a while. My right here sounds like Ed Sullivan. Jen Tucker posted something on Facebook yesterday asking for a show of hands for those participating in NaNoWriMo this month. I did not raise my hand even though I am sort of participating. This silly drivel of a children's book that I started has grown tentacles and teeth. It is way too long to read in one story time sitting, but I'm two yolk stories away from tying this piece of work up. That's more than I've accomplished with just about anything. So, can't stop me now! You have to sing that part. I figured I'd just keep going and then when it's all over, I'll go back in and cut out 75% of it, then send to Jen Tucker so she can illustrate it.

Jen Tucker doesn't know she's illustrating this book. Jen Tucker...you're illustrating this book. 

In other news, after finishing up the story about the second yolk, I publicly shamed my niece on Facebook after she posted inaccurate tabloid style 'news' of a political content. I did this for a couple of reasons. First of all she's already declared publicly that she isn't voting. So I feel like she's lost her right to voice an opinion on political matters. Secondly if you post things that are not factual, I am going to call you out on it. Thirdly, I think we need to be held accountable for the the things we say and post online. My niece ended up deleting her post, but did post something later about how the things that she posts online does not define who she is. I mulled this over for some time before I sent her a message.

I don't think the things we post online defines who we are, or at least I hope it doesn't. I do, however think that the things we post are a reflection of who we are or who we want to be. Every time we post something online, we are saying "hey! I find this to be relevant and important enough to share with all my followers!" and that's exactly what your followers see. They see the stuff that you find interesting and that makes an impression about you, your likes, your passions. You are making an impression on the world with the things you post. What kind of impression do you want to make on this world? It's kind of like that advice about dressing for the job you want. 

At the end of the day, I'd like people to look through my news feed and see someone who seeks out beauty in the mundane, passionate about finding truths, likes a good laugh and is always finding ways to be grateful. What does your online fingerprint say about you?

DISTRACTION

Nuts

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 7 likes

I might have mentioned on Friday's post about working on writing something. I have 1,998 words that I've written about a girl and an egg with four yolks. I just looked this up and I thought "what a coincidence!" I graduated college in 1998 and I got married in 1998. 1998 was a good year, but that's not my stopping spot. There's more to this egg yolk story. I just got a little stuck. So while I was stuck, I did things like watch videos of puppies and baby goats jumping on pigs. Then I got the brilliant idea to Google search why my body's been all achy and why I'm tired all the time, but I worded it in the most vague way with "what's wrong with me?" Let's just say that Google will find a whole lot wrong with you if you Google that question.

I stepped back from the computer and really thought about a more specific question to ask when I remembered that I used to take a magnesium calcium blend before going to bed every night to help relax my muscles. I also remembered that this helped, but I haven't taken it in a long time. I ran out and never got another bottle and it has been so long since then that I couldn't remember the dosage. So, I Googled magnesium calcium for sleep and Google didn't know what I was talking about, but I was able to determine that I might be deficient in magnesium in general. I finally came up with the dosage amount by searching my own blog. In case you're wondering it's 2000mg Mg/1000mg Ca. 

Then this weekend, I made us all trek out to Natural Grocers so I could pick up some Mg/Ca and also some iron/B12 supplements (I've been out of those for a few months now). I ended up finding way more stuff than the vitamins. Froast makes a breakfast link! I also bought my Thanksgiving "turkey". I took that Mg/Ca last night and just as I was tossing the pills into my mouth, I remembered something. My tired achy body might have something to do with the flu shot I got a week ago. Well...I could be magnesium deficient so taking the Mg/Ca couldn't hurt. I woke up this morning not achy, but still tired. Not really tired, but you know...wishing I could have five more minute hours. But after taking a shower and more vitamins and eating my oatmeal, I have to say I felt ready to go. Let's do this day! I even had enough energy to hide under Jeff's desk and scare him when he came in this morning.

I feel like if I were to print this out, my English teacher would totally understand why I have only written 1,998 words. It is obvious that I couldn't write in my condition. Yes, I realize that I just admitted to you that I am feeling better and therefor could have added at least a hundred words to that count by now. Except it seems like I've fallen behind on watching puppy videos. As soon as I catch up, I promise I'll write more.

Really.

I mean it.

VOTING ANXIETY

We got impatient and decided to do absentee voting today

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Usually, I'm pretty excited about voting on election days. Even when I was little, standing in line with Mom and Dad was a treat. I was fascinated by the voting booths and I always got a sticker. The act of voting has just always made feel like I am truly part of this country and going to the polls on election day is part of that. This year, though...I'm not so sure. This election year has been physically disabling for me to witness, mostly because those voices that support Trump have been so loud and scary. I cringe knowing that our country is filled with such hatefulness. There have been moments when I've been caught chewing on my lip with worry over Trump wining this election, even though everyone around me keeps telling me it is not going to happen. Every time someone tells me there's no way he'll win I have flashbacks of November 8th, 2000. 

I started having anxiety about making it to the polling place on time on election day and about how long the line might be weeks ago. I'm a planner and there is nothing I can predict about the state of our poling place on election day. They had technical difficulties when we went to vote in the primaries that resulted in long slow moving lines. A repeat of something like that makes me worry about logistics of dinner and the length of time the dog is stuck in her crate. I mean, what if we end up standing in line so long that polls close before we can vote?! When someone at work mentioned last week that you could do early voting at Union Station, I started to think really hard about just getting it over with. I knew we'd be at Union Station at some point on Saturday with Robin and S because Union Station is my favorite place to take visitors. I like to point out the bullet holes in the front of the building. So, I asked Michael on Saturday morning how he felt about voting early. He thought this sounded like a splendid idea.

Saturday morning, Michael and I voted in the 2016 Presidential Election. Since the early voting place was set up just like a regular voting place, I didn't feel like I was missing out on the voting experience. They even gave us our "I Voted!" stickers. I looked at Michael when we left the polling place and I opened my mouth to say "I just voted for the first female president of the United States" except a sob bubble of emotion just came out instead. I was a little over come by being part of a very big historical moment that has been too long in the making. I was also a lot relieved. The rush and hustle of getting to our polling place in time to vote is no longer even an issue or thought in my brain. All of that worry and anxiety floated away as I placed my ballot in the designated envelope, watched a lady notarize it and then hand it back to me so I could put it in the ballot box. 

I'd like to remind some people who I've heard say that they are not voting this year, that there's a whole lot more on the ballot than who will be our next president. Real change starts at a local level and in your own community. If you don't vote you don't have a voice in what is happening in your own community. You are also hitching your wagon to representatives who do not represent you and senators who do not care if they do their job. I'd also like to remind one young woman in particular that women had to literally fight for their rights to vote in this country. Suffragettes faced imprisonment and beatings. Some of them lost their children because the men they were married to kicked them out of their homes. VOTING IS A PRIVILEGE. There are women in other countries who risk their lives just by going to the polls even though it is their legal right to vote. VOTING IS A PRIVILEGE.  

VOTE!

Civic Duty: CHECK!

THE ACCIDENTAL ROLE MODEL

The Cabbage made this "bug" at Science City on Saturday and then left it in my purse. Mine now.

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 5 likes

Right now, the Cabbage is into science. I say 'right now' because she's six and next year she'll probably be into something different, like law or cosmetology. But for right now, science is her thing. She likes bugs. We passed the time waiting for Michael at Harbor Freight, looking at pictures of moths and butterflies on my phone one day. We have a family membership for the Union Station because it gets us into Science City for free whenever we feel like going. This turned out to be a great way for Michael and the Cabbage to spend the day during the summer when it was too hot to do anything outside. I think there was one day they spent the whole time watching movies at the planetarium and eating free popcorn. 

For the past two or three weeks, the Cabbage has been asking to go to Science City. "When are we going to Science City? I want to go to Science City." It's a loop she's been playing over and over. Our weekend schedule has been super busy with other things. We've done fun stuff like visit Randy and Katrina in Branson and a zoo day, but none of this has been Science City. The last time she said something about it I told her we would go the next weekend she was at our house. I cleared the schedule for it and she started a count down of days before we would be at Science City. No one realized this until Michael went to pick her up on Friday, but her class went on field trip to Science City that day. The day before we were supposed to go. Didn't matter. The Cabbage said she wanted to go to Science City again on Saturday even though she had just been there the day before. 

So, Saturday, we went to lunch and then to Science City. I like Science City. It's big and open, with lots of running around space. Many of the exhibits are hands on. It's one of the few places I feel comfortable enough to take the Cabbage where I feel like I can let her roam free and explore on her own. We wandered around, making electricity by riding bikes and changing tide flows with magnets. They have those spinny top looking chairs that don't tip over. The Cabbage and I spent a good ten minutes just sitting in those chairs and rolling around. Then I got lost in Force and Motion and when I came out, I found Michael and the Cabbage talking to a woman in the Spark!Lab. Michael was helping the Cabbage write on a piece of paper. I heard the woman ask the Cabbage "Who is your favorite scientist?" Then I heard the Cabbage reply "Cindy!"

I'm sure the woman in the Spark!Lab was expecting to hear something like Einstein or Curie. She definitely was not expecting a "Cindy!" I mean, I'm not really a famous scientist (I just play one on TV) and of course I was totally flattered. The Cabbage has asked me about my job many times and has said that she too wants to be a scientist one day. So I was not all that surprised or humbled to hear that I am her favorite scientist. I'm the only scientist she knows. Suddenly the responsibility of being the only scientist she knows becomes a boa constrictor tightening around my ribcage. I have instant doubts. I don't know why, but I don't see myself as really a scientist. I hardly ever wear a lab coat and I have a hard time explaining to people what I do exactly. Mumble mumble microscopes seems to be my most frequent answer to what it is that I do. 

Though it is really sweet, especially since the Cabbage and I had a rough summer where we didn't really get along all that well. She went through a "I want my mom and dad to live in the same house" phase, even though she was too young to even remember the time they all did live in the same house. Any way, she's over that for now and into bugs. I'm over it too and trying to think of ways to be better at being that scientist role model. It's not as easy as being an accidental tourist. 

THIS IS OCTOBER

I made a ghost lamp. They kind of glow in the dark.

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 3 likes

My mom was here over the weekend and we spent Friday night with her watching me tie up ghost shaped pumpkins to look like they are floating inside a lantern. I had painted them with three layers of glow in the dark paint, but I don't think they ever get enough sunlight to activate them. They only kind of glow in the dark, but they look real cute floating around inside the lantern with their googly eyes. I kind of love them. Then on Saturday, Mom and I got up early and went to the antique market that happens in the West Bottoms every First Friday weekend. I've had my eye out for a new desk but I didn't want to spend more than $50 on it and I had specific criteria. 

We found my desk in the second building we made it to. Mom bought a wooden pumpkin and basket shaped like a pumpkin. She was really into a pumpkin theme. We made it through the third building when Michael showed up. Then we ate lunch from one of the food trucks before heading into our fourth building. Somewhere in the middle of that building, Michael said to me "this place is too expensive. Can we go now?" I'd spent all my money already so I agreed. We collected Mom from one booth where she'd been trapped for the last half hour by the owner who thought Mom was a good listener and high tailed it over to the building that had my desk. Some other things happened but they were all good little boring things. We wore Mom out and I said goodbye to her early the next morning at Heirloom before I headed off to gather this week's groceries. 

Then Michael and I headed out to the suburbs to get our hairs cut. We passed a giant nursery on the way home and stopped so I could buy some pumpkins to be turned into Mummies and spiders and maybe some more vampires (because I found vampire teeth while cleaning out the old desk). Then Michael left me to my own devices for a minute so he could go find a drinking fountain. This was long enough for me to buy a small pot of mums and a new houseplant that is said to be nearly impossible to kill. Challenge accepted. Also, I had made it over to the complete opposite side of the nursery when Michael poked his head up to look for me. He found me and then said "How did you get all the way over here?!?" I just shrugged and pointed at the new plants I was going to kill. Then we went home so I could make these guys.

Wait! I added spiders.

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 8 likes

I've named the Mummies Laurel and Hardy because obviously. The spiders don't have names yet. I'm waiting to make vampires because I don't want them to get yucky before Halloween and there's some carving involved with those guys. Last year, our postal person told us we had the best pumpkins on the street. Of course, I had to step up my game for this year and I've already started thinking about next year. The Cabbage and I still need to pick out carving pumpkins, but we've got some time. This is a totally rambly post of non importance. I just thought we all needed something to make us smile. Look at those spiders! They're so cute! 

THINGS I'M THINKING ABOUT

Red filter

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap

• Learning to play the fiddle. Or, I guess, learning to play the violin like a fiddle
• Editing and uploading all those pictures I took at the zoo on Sunday
• The fire and brimstone that will occur if Trump wins in November
• If those googly eyes I glued to my ghost pumpkins are going to really stick
• Giving the dog a bath
• Vacuuming
• Is my house clean enough for visitors
• Sex
• Those ten pounds that won't go the fuck away
• Buying some greeting cards and actually mailing them to people
• Making up some spider and Mummy pumpkins to go with my ghosts
• Why the chickens have stopped laying eggs (I had to buy eggs last week)
• What side dish I should take to that party I've been invited to next weekend
• Friends and family
• NANOWRIMO and finding time, no... MAKING time to write
• Winning the Nobel Prize in Science for figuring out how to actually make "extra" time

BARE

Mom and I have clean birthday faces.

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I've seen people on Facebook commenting on Alicia Key's decision to go make up free. Most of them are positive, but I noticed one comment in particular that was not so positive and it came from a woman. I'll get to why that part of things bothers me in a minute, but first let me tell you about this lady's comment. Her comment said "I heard that she's [Alesha Keys] still using mineral based foundation." I read her comment in the same gossipy tone of voice you'd expect from your super gossipy neighbor who says things like "I hear he eats his own feces." There was just so much disdain in her tone, disdain that Alicia is either not wearing makeup or trying to pull a fast one on us.

As a young girl, I would stand on the toilet in the upstairs bathroom drying my hair while my mom and sister stood in front of the large mirror, putting their makeup on for the day. I watched them carefully apply foundation with a sponge, covering their entire faces with it. The final touch was to dust your face with a foundation like powder to 'seal' in the makeup. This is what I learned about makeup from watching my mom and sister: you NEVER leave the house without at the very least some sort of coverup foundation on your face. This implies that in some way, my natural skin is ugly. No one wants to see the purplish tint under my eyes, my freckles and sun spots. No one wants see any pimples or large pores. I learned that my skin is flawed and it must be covered up. I'm sure many of us learned this same lesson in regards to makeup and our skin. We didn't learn all of this from our mothers. Smooth, flawless skin is the tag line for eighty percent of the advertisements geared for women. You can't open a magazine without seeing the words 'removes fine lines', 'covers imperfections', or 'flawless beautiful skin'. 

The reason I point out that the negative comment came from a woman is because it still makes me mad to hear and see women not supporting each other in positive endeavors. I'm sure that comment was born from her own insecurities. Some could easily say that going without makeup is a very brave thing to do and not all of us feel that secure enough with our own so called flawed skin. Don't get me wrong. Makeup can be totally fun. On those days those mean voices are talking really loud in your head, sometimes putting on a simple pink lipstick can make those voices hush. Sometimes we need a little eyeshadow to lift our spirits. Sometimes I need a little makeup and bunch of Instagram filters to make me feel pretty, but make no mistake. Those voices in your head that tell you all the mean things about yourself are liars. You are beautiful with or without that makeup. 

Alicia Keys may very well be brave, but above all, she's inspirational. She's teaching a whole new generation of girls that makeup does not define your beauty. She's helping us change the way we see ourselves and how we see beauty. Our so called flawed skin is beautiful.

ON MAKING PLANS

Oh, fortune

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 2 likes

I had some thoughts about last night's debate, but I just couldn't commit to them. Those of you who know me, know where I stand and what I think. I find Donald Trump to be vile, misogynistic, and down right grotesque. His speeches encourage hate and discrimination, pretty much the opposite of what I believe and the opposite of what I was taught as a child in Sunday school. He has yet to actually provide us with any kind of plan or strategy for how he's going to "fix" things in this country. He just speaks in circular sentences like I'm going to make things better by making things better. I just can't believe we're going to let a member of the 1% run this country and expect him to do anything to benefit the poor and middle class. Facts are important. I recommend that everybody go and read up on some of the fact checking that was done on the debate. NPR has a good one. And I didn't even want this post to be about politics, but you see how easy it is to fall down that ugly rat hole. This entry was/is about making plans. Big plans. Happy plans, regardless of who wins this election in November. 

Michael and I sat across from each other at a Chinese restaurant on Saturday for lunch. We talked about a lot of different things. I got a little fixated with a guy in his early sixties wearing an almost Elvis like black wig. Michael found tiny octopus on the buffet and I treated it like a science project. It was just a regular old lunch with usual randomness. I don't remember exactly what Michael said, but his words triggered a question. I asked him if his ex came to him today and said "I was wrong, please come back" would he go back. I've asked this kind of question before. He always says that he never wanted to get a divorce. Actually, he just never wanted to be divorced. It didn't matter from whom. Divorcee was just not something he wanted on his resume. Yet it still bothers me when he says that he never wanted a divorce. I know it's not fair. I never wanted to be a widow. I just don't say this out loud as often and I press him on this subject of never out of insecurity and even a little vanity. This time around he says that he would have just liked to have had the option to try to save his marriage. He knows that it would never had worked out with her, but in the end it wasn't something they fought to keep. I suppose there's something noble in that, making a promise and then doing everything in your power to keep it. 

He tells me he really likes what we are building together. He's excited about the possibility of getting both scooters in the bed of his truck and hooking a popup camper to the back. He's excited about collecting National Park stamps. "Where are we going next?" is the question we ask the most these days.  He tells me he's not trying to fill a hole shaped like his ex, but if I left, he'd be forever trying to fill a hole shaped like me. He tells me that his online dating profile would say something about looking for someone who likes to road trip in a small camper, rides a scooter, and makes her own ghee. He tells me I would leave a hole in a very specific shape that would not be easy to fill. Then he looked at me and asked if he'd said all the right things or all the wrong things. I nodded my head and said "all the right things." Then I opened my fortune cookie that read "Make big plans" and we grinned at each other. 

We're making big plans together.