Tuesday, July 7, 2020
My Hamilton top ten
If you read my decade-in-review post back in January, you might remember that I listed falling in love with Hamilton as one of my highlights of the 2010s. At some point during our shared, all-consuming obsession, one of my sisters said, "Hey, I've made a list of my top ten favorite Hamilton songs. You should do it too, and then we'll compare them."
Make a list? About Hamilton? Don't mind if I do. I started a note in my phone, and I believe the first draft included about twenty five songs. For reference, there are forty-six songs in the show. I couldn't even narrow them down to my favorite 50%.
Now here we are a couple years later. Watching the original cast movie on Disney+ has reignited all my Ham love, so I dug out my list and tried to get it down to a more reasonable number.
My primary judging criteria are as follows:
Is it fun to sing? (thank you, Lin-Manuel Miranda for putting most of it within my vocal range)
Does it make me feel deeply? (all the sad ones did really well, obviously)
Does it contain clever wordplay? (I mean, they all do, so that metric is kind of useless)
Here we go!
10. Cabinet Battles #1 and #2
I'm already cheating and putting two songs into one slot. But they are like two parts of a whole, so why not? My very favorite parts are "we know who's really doing the planting", "you don't have the votes", Madison quietly muttering "...France", and "uh, do whatever you want; I'm super dead."
9. Election of 1800
Here's a song that's great for car singing. Plenty of times I've been driving to the grocery store, begging Alexander to tell me who to vote for at the top of my lungs:
Jefferson or Burr? we know it's lose-lose
Jefferson or Burr? but if you had to choose
Dear Mr. Hamilton
John Adams doesn't stand a chance, so who are you promoting?
The build up is so good, and then Hamilton finally answers with an excellent burn against Burr:
I have never agreed with Jefferson once (oh!)
We have fought on like seventy-five different fronts (oh!)
But when all is said and all is done
Jefferson has beliefs,
Burr has none (ooh!)
Also, Jefferson's "whaaaaat?..." at the suggestion that he seek Hamilton's endorsement is one of my favorite single lines in the whole show.
8. Dear Theodosia
This is the sweetest lullaby ever.
I'll do whatever it takes
I'll make a million mistakes
I'll make the world safe and sound for you
7. The Room Where It Happens
I liked this song but didn't love it until I sang it at a Hamilton karaoke night a couple years ago. It is so fun to sing it and pretend that you are a fraction as talented as Leslie Odom Jr.
6. Satisfied
I didn't include My Shot on my favorites list, though it is obviously a great song. I once heard Lin describe My Shot as Alexander's "I want" song. Well, this is Angelicas's "I want" song, and the heartbreaking part is that a woman in her time typically didn't get nearly as much latitude with how she used her shot. She is stifled by gender roles, restrained by loyalty to her sister, and ultimately she concludes, "I will never be satisfied." But at least it's really fun to try to keep up with her as she raps and sings about it.
5. Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story
I absolutely love that Eliza gets the last word. She stayed at home and raised their eight children (no small feat there) while Hamilton followed his ambition, built a career, and literally helped create a country. But her list of accomplishments in the years following his death is wildly impressive as well. Eliza got some crap done.
4. Burn
During my very first time listening to the cast recording of Hamilton, I had a friend who was feeling heartbroken over her ongoing divorce, so I thought of her as I listened to Eliza sing about her own broken heart. I was standing in my kitchen, listening to the words, and my tears dropped onto the countertop. When Phillipa Soo's raw voice says, "you, you, you...", it basically rips your heart right out and sets it on fire along with Alexander's stupid letters.
3. It's Quiet Uptown
This is another heart wrenching song that stopped me in my tracks. I was making my bed and I heard these lyrics:
The moments when you're in so deep
It feels easier to just swim down
The Hamiltons move uptown
And learn to live with the unimaginable
I rewound to the beginning and stood still while I listened to the whole song. Crying again.
When I did that Hamilton karaoke, everyone got an allotment of points. Meatier parts were worth more points, and smaller parts cost just a point or two each. I realized that nobody had signed up yet for Quiet Uptown, and I was about to snatch it when I remembered that I had never sang it without getting choked up. I decided that I'd rather not sob in front of a bunch of strangers at a bar, so I passed. On karaoke night, when we got to that point in the show, the host said, "Yeah, nobody signed up to sing Quiet Uptown, because, well, you know..." and we moved on to the Election of 1800.
2. Alexander Hamilton
This one is near the top of the list because it's the first thing you hear, and it makes you stop short and go, "Wait a minute, this is a different kind of thing than I've ever heard before." We did an impromptu sing along of this in my parents' kitchen the night we told them we had bought them Hamilton tickets for Christmas, and it was the best thing ever.
1. Non Stop
Non-Stop has so much going on. Lin called it an "all skate", and I love that description. Almost everyone gets a share, and I can't help but sing all the parts myself, even though it's kind of impossible since they all overlap.
All the pieces of the story so far are shifting into new places. There are callbacks to the music and/or lyrics from at least 9 previous songs (Wait for it, That Would Be Enough, Right Hand Man, The Schuyler Sisters, Helpless, Satisfied, History Has Its Eyes On You, My Shot, and Alexander Hamilton).
You can sense Burr's bemusement and tolerance of Hamilton turning to a simmering jealousy/irritation/rage as the song goes on. You can really feel it when he growls "Hamilton wrote THE OTHER FIFTY-ONE!".
You could probably ask me for my top ten a week from now, and it would look different. All the other songs are loosely slotted, and some might even fall off the list, but not this one. This stays number one.
Honorable mention
The World Was Wide Enough contains so much malice and sadness and regret, especially "this man will not make an orphan of my daughter", Ham's death soliloquy, and Burr's quiet lament.
Now I'm the villain in your history
I was too young and blind to see
I should've known
I should've known the world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me
One of my kids has a really good voice but absolutely will not share it with the world. No church choir, no school talent show, nothing. Once we were in the car when One Last Time came on, and we started singing together. Our voices blended really well, and when we pulled into the driveway we stayed in the car long enough to finish the song. That last note is satisfyingly beltable, and we gave it our all. It's a good memory.
The staging of this show is amazing, and I loved a bunch of songs much more once I saw them in motion. Hurricane is so well done. The whole stage swirls around, and the lighting makes it seem like it's getting swallowed up with water. The Reynolds Pamphlet is what my sister describes as "glorious chaos" with paper flying everywhere, and Jefferson prancing around, gleefully telling Alexander that he's "never gon' be president now". It's deliciously petty.
And in Your Obedient Servant, the barrage of Alexander's correspondence is just flowing across the stage to Burr and finally brings him to his breaking point.
And one more honorable mention that isn't even in the show: a cut scene called Congratulations. Check it out; it's fun!
What do you think? Is my list the worst because it leaves out both Yorktown and Guns and Ships? And how could I possibly not include Wait For It? I would love to debate this with other Ham fans, but just remember that Non-Stop is number one and I won't budge on that.
Sunday, May 17, 2020
Photo collection: shadows
I've been organizing photos this week, and I noticed that I have quite a few pictures with cool shadows. Here's a collection.
My kids at a covered playscape. A shadow layered over a shadow.
A drawer pull on our bookshelf in the late afternoon sun
Gift shop at the City Museum in St. Louis
Peacock seen through a fence at Phillips Park Zoo in Aurora IL
Cousins playing in Grandma & Grandpa's yard.
It's hard to wait for the evening sun to go down enough to get good shade over the digging spot.
A scrawny tree in Missouri seems to cast an oversized shadow.
Coyote and cactus ring toss
A shadow from my honeycomb chandelier
Shiny marbles in a basket
A wiggly hand at the Perot Museum in Dallas
Stripes of sunshine at a manufactured snow day
Thick brush strokes in the December morning light
Forced family fun on a path that had almost no shade. This was hot and unpleasant.
Forced family fun at the high school track
Thursday, April 2, 2020
Quarantine food
Hello! How is everyone doing? Do you need a brief diversion from reading about transmission rates and mortality projections? Let's talk about food.
I have been spending a LOT of time in the kitchen: stress baking, making meals for all these people who seem to want to eat hourly, and scowling at the never-shrinking pile of dirty dishes. I'm no chef, but I'll share what we have been eating lately in case anyone else is in a rut and wants to borrow an idea.
We have made a lot of sweets, including the following:
Custard pie
Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies
Rice krispy treats
Brownies
Banana bread
Granola
I made fudge too, and it was good but definitely a first draft. Need to work on that one.
We've also made Mary Williams french bread multiple times, as well as these other non-sweet things:
Design Mom chili
https://www.designmom.com/chili-cookoff/
Pioneer Woman pizza crust (I double it to make two large sheet pan pizzas, plus I bake the crust for a few minutes, then add the toppings and continue cooking. I find that it is SO HARD to get a good crust on a cookie sheet. Sigh. Some day I might invest in a real pizza stone and a peel, but for now my kids rave about our "sloppy pizza".)
https://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/pizza-ree-a/?printable_recipe=11669
Pasta with easy Italian meat sauce
Bangkok curry (I love this so much, I could drink the sauce like a milkshake.)
I tried this wild rice and butternut squash recipe yesterday. Matt and I liked it; the kids were not impressed.
We've also had a baked potato bar, sandwiches & chips (that's always a favorite because the boys get to pick their favorite chip flavors!), tostadas with refried beans, breakfast casserole, spaghetti pie, and ground pork tacos (because they were out of ground beef the day I was at the store).
Today for lunch we used some leftover chicken to make buffalo chicken dip. That's right, we had chips and cheesy dip for lunch. I actually deviate from the original recipe and bulk it up with pureed chick peas, so I don't even feel guilty about it.
Kinda sorta healthy Buffalo chicken dip
Two 15 oz. cans of chick peas / garbanzo beans, rinsed and pureed until very smooth (add water if needed to help it blend well)
One 8 oz. brick of cream cheese
1-2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, cubed
1/2 cup blue cheese dressing
2 cups cooked chicken, chopped or shredded
1/2 cup buffalo wing sauce, or more to taste
Add all ingredients to a large skillet and simmer on low until all the cheese is melted and combined. Serve with tortilla chips.
This recipe is very flexible: vary the amounts of the cheeses, add more spicy wing sauce, or omit the chicken to make it vegetarian. The Alamo Drafthouse recently published the recipe for their vegan cauliflower bites. ( https://drafthouse.com/news/make-your-own-vegan-buffalo-cauliflower-alamoathome ) Maybe you could follow their lead and add some lightly steamed cauliflower pieces to this dip?
Tomorrow's dinner is broccoli cheese soup. I happened to find a picture of it from when I made it back in January. Remember January? I'd sure like to go back there.
I hope each of you are holding up well, with enough to feed yourselves and your people, plus a good stash of pantry chocolate to sneak when times get tough. Much love.
Friday, February 28, 2020
Sanditon
If you’re like me, you’ve been watching this show the past eight weeks, assuming that in the end you would get to see Charlotte and Sidney make out.
Actually, scratch that.
At first I assumed it would follow the traditional Jane Austen playbook, where the main couple finally end up together and share a chaste kiss in the final scene, probably on their wedding day.
But then in episode one, Edward claimed that Clara "took him in hand" (!!!), and then in episode 6, she threw a leg over him on the drawing room floor. At that point I thought, “wow, maybe we’ll see more than a wedding day peck after all..."
Ten minutes into episode 8, I watched with anticipation as Charlotte and Sidney wandered along the cliffs, making awkward small talk about the weather. When Sidney stepped up into her personal space and said "I was hoping that we might find a moment when we could be alone together," I got that prickly heat feeling on my neck that says, "I'm about to KISS THIS BOY." And then he called her by her first name rather than "Miss Heywood" and it was all over.
Cut to me swooning to death.
Let's go ahead and review the play by play.
Let's go ahead and review the play by play.
"Charlotte..."
"Yes?"
You probably want to watch that whole scene again right now, don't you? I completely understand, as I've rewatched it about a dozen times. It's currently streaming on the pbs website. I won't blame you if you pause here, open a new tab, and come back when you're done.
I assume this is Charlotte’s first kiss, since she’s depicted as a young, naive girl from the country. I’d just like to acknowledge that she is starting out really well, in terms of kissing partner and setting:
Get it, Char.
Anyway, later that night, Sidney sexily watches Charlotte dance with someone else at the ball, knowing that he is about to ask her to marry him and she's totally going to say yes. Then they meet up on this glorious balcony and gaze into each other's eyes...and then that dirtbag Edward crashes the party and the whole thing goes off the rails.
Let's turn to happier thoughts, namely, Esther and Babington. No one has had a more dynamic and unexpected character arc than Esther. She was en excellent villain, a cold-blooded schemer when the story opened, but over time she revealed complexity and contradiction. I truly enjoyed watching her relationship with Babington develop from "Rich Guy Pursues Pretty Lady Who Will Probably End Up Having to Marry Him for His Money and Be Stuck in a Loveless Marriage Forever" into a genuine, mutual affection.
Their engagement scene was heartbreaking and sweet and charming.
Babington: I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. My dear girl…don’t you know that I’m in love with you?
Esther: And what is that to me, since I do not love you?
Babington: I don’t care. It’s enough that you like me and that you trust me.
Esther: I do not wish to be your property.
Babington: Good, because I have no wish to own you.
Esther: Why else would you have me as your wife?
Babington: Because I want to make you happy. I could never try to lead or constrain you, Esther. All I ask is to walk through life by your side.
Esther: Very well then.
Babington: You acc—you accept me?
Esther: Stop talking before I change my mind.
She kisses him and then adorably bops her nose against his and walks away. Lord B follows.
Esther’s “leave them wanting more” game is strong.
Arthur Parker's brief storyline broke my heart. I wondered if they were setting him up to try to woo Georgiana, but when his sister asked him as much, he replied, "I don’t really know how ladies work. No...you’ve no worries about Arthur Parker on that score...lifelong bachelor."
I can't imagine how difficult it must have been to be a gay man in Regency England.
More heart breaking parts: Charlotte sobbing after Sidney told her that he was engaged to Mrs. Campion, Mr. Stringer sobbing to Charlotte over his father's coffin that the two men had "ended on a quarrel", Sidney riding up to Charlotte's coach to say "I don't love her" and Charlotte's response that he must try to make the best of it. Gut wrenching, all of it.
One interesting point that a friend pointed out to me to is the switcheroo where it's the man this time (Sidney) who needs money and is forced into an unwanted engagement, rather than the typical scenario where it's the woman who has to settle for security rather than love. I hadn't considered that. Still, I feel a bit less sorry for Sidney than I do for, say, Charlotte Lucas of Pride & Prejudice, who had to marry the doofus Mr. Collins because she knew she had few other prospects. In Sidney's case, becoming engaged to Mrs. Campion felt more mercenary, with the sole purpose to gain access to her money in order to save his dumb brother's investment. What is it with everyone bending over backward to protect the financial well-being of a failed white business man? Tale as old as time.
When the episode ended, it felt wide open for another season, and I was sure that one would be forthcoming. Alas, no. ITV has canceled it, though the writer, Andrew Davies, appears to be holding out some hope that there will be another season.
Netflix, can you help a girl out? I'm dying for more Sanditon.
But what would a season two even look like? Now that Sidney is engaged, I suppose next season we would have to watch James Stringer take another run at wooing Charlotte, all while Charlotte gazes longingly at Sidney while his haughty fiance parades him in front of her. Ugh. I don't look forward to that. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Stringer is kind and adorable, but it was never a contest between him and Sidney Parker. Also, I can not abide that ridiculous tall hat they've always got him in, even if it is historically accurate. He looks like a cartoon cowboy.
The three of these are basically the same.
I'm going to go console myself by watching episode seven's simmering passion-filled rowing lesson.
Thursday, January 2, 2020
Books read in 2019
I read 34 books in 2019, two short of the goal I had set for myself, but still a personal best.
I think it's pretty obvious that I am drawn in by a beautiful or striking cover. Would I have read Heidi if it didn't have that stunning floral cover art on a chartreuse background, done by Anna Bond of Rifle Paper Company? Maybe not. Coincidentally Little Women, with another gorgeous Anna Bond cover from the same series of reissues, is sitting on top of my to-read pile right now.
Two books horrified me with the treatment of the protagonist(s): Educated and The Radium Girls.
Lincoln in the Bardo was beautiful and very weird, in both style and substance, and I loved it.
I read two rock and roll memoirs, one true (Jeff Tweedy) and one fiction (Daisy Jones). Both were excellent.
As usual I suppose, there was a lot of family dysfunction, both fact and fiction, and to varying degrees: Hillbilly Elegy, Where the Crawdads Sing, Educated, There There, Rabbit Cake, and Eleanor Oliphant.
I learned a lot and enlarged my perspective by reading the memoirs of Jeff Tweedy, JD Vance, Tara Westover, Kareem Adbul-Jabbar, and Marjane Satrapi.
One delightful surprise was how much I liked both The Wild Robot and its sequel, The Wild Robot Escapes. I recommend it even if you don't have an enthusiastic six year old to read it to. It's charming as can be.
Young Jane Young is a fictionalized version of the Monica Lewinsky story, told from the points of view of various women whose lives were affected. It raises a lot of good questions, and I'm planning to recommend it to my book club.
I read a wide variety of genres last year: murder mystery, memoir, juvenile fiction, adult fiction, essay collection, how-to, narrative nonfiction, regular nonfiction, romance, graphic novel, and an academic lecture printed in book form.
One goal I have for my 2020 reading is more non-fiction. Only three on my list this year--Swedish Death Cleaning, The Radium Girls, and The Next Mormons--took a subject and explored it in depth. Time to level up my brain workouts.
I think it's pretty obvious that I am drawn in by a beautiful or striking cover. Would I have read Heidi if it didn't have that stunning floral cover art on a chartreuse background, done by Anna Bond of Rifle Paper Company? Maybe not. Coincidentally Little Women, with another gorgeous Anna Bond cover from the same series of reissues, is sitting on top of my to-read pile right now.
Two books horrified me with the treatment of the protagonist(s): Educated and The Radium Girls.
Lincoln in the Bardo was beautiful and very weird, in both style and substance, and I loved it.
I read two rock and roll memoirs, one true (Jeff Tweedy) and one fiction (Daisy Jones). Both were excellent.
As usual I suppose, there was a lot of family dysfunction, both fact and fiction, and to varying degrees: Hillbilly Elegy, Where the Crawdads Sing, Educated, There There, Rabbit Cake, and Eleanor Oliphant.
I learned a lot and enlarged my perspective by reading the memoirs of Jeff Tweedy, JD Vance, Tara Westover, Kareem Adbul-Jabbar, and Marjane Satrapi.
One delightful surprise was how much I liked both The Wild Robot and its sequel, The Wild Robot Escapes. I recommend it even if you don't have an enthusiastic six year old to read it to. It's charming as can be.
Young Jane Young is a fictionalized version of the Monica Lewinsky story, told from the points of view of various women whose lives were affected. It raises a lot of good questions, and I'm planning to recommend it to my book club.
I read a wide variety of genres last year: murder mystery, memoir, juvenile fiction, adult fiction, essay collection, how-to, narrative nonfiction, regular nonfiction, romance, graphic novel, and an academic lecture printed in book form.
One goal I have for my 2020 reading is more non-fiction. Only three on my list this year--Swedish Death Cleaning, The Radium Girls, and The Next Mormons--took a subject and explored it in depth. Time to level up my brain workouts.
Wednesday, January 1, 2020
Ten regular years
A couple years ago as we were heading toward the end of the year, I saw a meme that said something like, "Do something new. Don't just live the same year over and over for 70 years and call it a life." That hit me like a gut punch. I have been living in the same house this whole decade, raising three boys as a stay-at-home parent, accumulating stuff, not building a resume, and not earning a paycheck. I often feel like I'm living in Groundhog Day, and not necessarily in the fun, funny way. If any stage of my life could be described as "in the thick of it", it's right now. Parenting is so much thicker than I ever expected.
So over the last couple weeks of the twenty-teens, I reflected on how I spent the decade, using my favorite method of doing most things: a giant list. You might want to take stock as well, especially if you, like me, sometimes feel like your friends are doing more interesting and exciting and rewarding things than you are.
You'll probably realize that you've done more than you thought, and here's the most important part: it's ok if most or all of them are just regular things. We can't all be Greta Thunberg.
(Also, hallelujah for digital pictures, because without my photo files I would not have remembered a lot of these things.)
I had a kid.
When the decade started, we had two boys, which felt like maximum capacity. But around 2012, I started telling Matt that I thought number three was floating out there somewhere, waiting to come to our family and bring balance to the force. It was one of the best decisions we ever made. He's been delightful and easygoing from the start and has brought me so much joy.
Before having him in 2013, however, I had a miscarriage that brought me a lot closer to death than I'd like to experience again any time soon. Also, Theo came fast, and I had him without an epidural. That was some real, intense living, but not the kind I hope to repeat in the 2020s.
I read 192 books.
This isn't a gigantic number compared to some of my friends who read 50+ books per year. But it's huge for me, since I spent the 2000s having basically forgotten that reading brings me a lot of joy. I'm so glad for that friend who said to me around 2008, "You should come to book club."
Speaking of books, in this decade I read the whole Harry Potter series out loud to my two older kids. It was one of the very best parenting experiences of my life. It was pure joy, in spite of that time when we were nearing the end of book six, and Mason picked up book seven, flipped idly through the first few pages, and called out, "Dumbledore dies?!?"
I fell hard core in love with Hamilton.
During the winter of 2015-16 I got a Spotify account so that I could listen to the original cast recording, then realized nearly a year later that I had paid about $120 in monthly subscription fees to listen to the same 40 songs over and over again. I should've just bought the CD set from the start and saved a hundred bucks. I have easily listened to that album a couple hundred times, and I could sing the whole thing through with few mistakes. I saw the show twice: once in Chicago with my sisters, and once in Austin with Matt and our friends. I also spent a delightful evening at a bar doing the whole show karaoke-style with a bunch of other Ham superfans, including my friend Janell, who I like to think of as my first convert as I spread the gospel of St. Lin Manuel-Miranda.
I celebrated a big sports thing.
When the Chicago Cubs clinched the National League pennant, I stood on my parents' front porch, banging pots and pans, crying, laughing, and yelling with my dad and the whole neighborhood. Seven games later, I was group texting with my parents and siblings, spread out across Illinois, Texas, Utah, and North Carolina, as the Cubs won the World Series for the first time in over a hundred years. It was incredible. We still text youtube clips to each other every November 2.
I knocked on doors for a candidate.
I majored in political science in college, so it's not like this was some radical thing to do. But I'm happy to say that I am paying closer attention to what happens in the world, reading about issues more carefully, and engaging respectfully when I disagree.
It broke my heart when Beto lost his Senate race, but it was such a good feeling to support a truly decent person. There is more door knocking in my future.
I went to some new places and revisited some old places.
No extreme adventures, no international flights, no lounging in paradise for days on end. But I have shown my kids a few more corners of the country, bonded with family, and caught up with distant friends. The past two summers, we have done a big road trip, which is exhausting and fun and a perfect example of the axiom "joy costs pain".
Since my parents, one sister, and a lot of my extended family are in the Chicago suburbs, that's where I've traveled the most, probably almost 20 times in the past 10 years. (Thank you, Southwest Airlines, for direct, cheap airfare!)
I've driven hours across Texas to visit Lubbock, San Antonio, Dallas, Corpus Christi, and Houston, plus I've been to Louisiana, North Carolina, Denver, Santa Fe, Arches National Park, Mesa Verde National Park, Uinta National Forest, Salt Lake City, Oklahoma, Kansas City, St. Louis, and the Indiana Dunes.
I grieved.
I lost my grandpa, plus someone that I consider a bonus grandpa, and an aunt. Each of them were sad experiences, but as a result I spent some really good family time remembering their lives.
I held our family dog, who was my first baby and the literal Best Dog the Universe Has Ever Created, as she was put to sleep. It's an incredibly heavy thing to be the one to decide when a life ends. I think it was the worst day of my life. It was definitely the most tears I've ever cried in one day (though if you read my Star Wars review yesterday, you might be like, "Are you sure about that?"). Just typing about it is making me emotional.
When I leave this world someday and reunite with all my people, I am going to spend a good amount of time with each of them and then sneak off for a couch nap with my Izzie girl.
I made a lot of things and did a lot of things.
I made jewelry, a couple quilts, photo books, cards, Christmas ornaments, paintings, furniture makeovers, Halloween costumes, a ton of soups, a ton of bread, and way too many cookies.
I've sung karaoke, gone to every museum I could, completed dozens of puzzles, spent countless hours hunting for vintage treasures in thrift shops, and built up a really nice succulent garden.
I've taken my kids swimming hundreds of times, been to the state fair, discovered that I can actually enjoy camping (in small doses and under the right circumstances), studied Spanish, and swung on a trapeze.
I volunteered with my church, my kids' schools, and our neighborhood HOA board. I encountered the worst smell I've ever smelled as I helped muck out a couple of houses after a hurricane.
Oh! A huge change this past decade is that I got a smart phone. It's the best thing and the worst thing I've ever added to my adult life.
What's next?
In the decade to come, I expect to turn 50 and to send two of my three children off to college. One of them is already taller than me; I can't imagine what it will be like to have actual adult children. Maybe we'll move to a different house, a different city or even a different state. Or maybe we will stay here in our little one story house and pay off the mortgage and be boring suburban people forever. Our dog is 4 years old, so it's quite likely that he will not be with us ten years from now. My body will probably never work as well as it does right now, which is sobering, since I'm already annoyed at all the shoulder aches and leg pains and general old person stuff that is creeping in.
In the next decade, I hope to read more and scroll less, to travel outside of the US, to finally take a drawing class, and to find a way to write as a paying job. I hope to become someone who is on time more often, criticizes less, and tackles something big and intimidating.
Happy New Year, friends, and Happy New Decade!
So over the last couple weeks of the twenty-teens, I reflected on how I spent the decade, using my favorite method of doing most things: a giant list. You might want to take stock as well, especially if you, like me, sometimes feel like your friends are doing more interesting and exciting and rewarding things than you are.
You'll probably realize that you've done more than you thought, and here's the most important part: it's ok if most or all of them are just regular things. We can't all be Greta Thunberg.
(Also, hallelujah for digital pictures, because without my photo files I would not have remembered a lot of these things.)
I had a kid.
When the decade started, we had two boys, which felt like maximum capacity. But around 2012, I started telling Matt that I thought number three was floating out there somewhere, waiting to come to our family and bring balance to the force. It was one of the best decisions we ever made. He's been delightful and easygoing from the start and has brought me so much joy.
Before having him in 2013, however, I had a miscarriage that brought me a lot closer to death than I'd like to experience again any time soon. Also, Theo came fast, and I had him without an epidural. That was some real, intense living, but not the kind I hope to repeat in the 2020s.
I read 192 books.
This isn't a gigantic number compared to some of my friends who read 50+ books per year. But it's huge for me, since I spent the 2000s having basically forgotten that reading brings me a lot of joy. I'm so glad for that friend who said to me around 2008, "You should come to book club."
Speaking of books, in this decade I read the whole Harry Potter series out loud to my two older kids. It was one of the very best parenting experiences of my life. It was pure joy, in spite of that time when we were nearing the end of book six, and Mason picked up book seven, flipped idly through the first few pages, and called out, "Dumbledore dies?!?"
I fell hard core in love with Hamilton.
During the winter of 2015-16 I got a Spotify account so that I could listen to the original cast recording, then realized nearly a year later that I had paid about $120 in monthly subscription fees to listen to the same 40 songs over and over again. I should've just bought the CD set from the start and saved a hundred bucks. I have easily listened to that album a couple hundred times, and I could sing the whole thing through with few mistakes. I saw the show twice: once in Chicago with my sisters, and once in Austin with Matt and our friends. I also spent a delightful evening at a bar doing the whole show karaoke-style with a bunch of other Ham superfans, including my friend Janell, who I like to think of as my first convert as I spread the gospel of St. Lin Manuel-Miranda.
I celebrated a big sports thing.
When the Chicago Cubs clinched the National League pennant, I stood on my parents' front porch, banging pots and pans, crying, laughing, and yelling with my dad and the whole neighborhood. Seven games later, I was group texting with my parents and siblings, spread out across Illinois, Texas, Utah, and North Carolina, as the Cubs won the World Series for the first time in over a hundred years. It was incredible. We still text youtube clips to each other every November 2.
I knocked on doors for a candidate.
I majored in political science in college, so it's not like this was some radical thing to do. But I'm happy to say that I am paying closer attention to what happens in the world, reading about issues more carefully, and engaging respectfully when I disagree.
It broke my heart when Beto lost his Senate race, but it was such a good feeling to support a truly decent person. There is more door knocking in my future.
I went to some new places and revisited some old places.
No extreme adventures, no international flights, no lounging in paradise for days on end. But I have shown my kids a few more corners of the country, bonded with family, and caught up with distant friends. The past two summers, we have done a big road trip, which is exhausting and fun and a perfect example of the axiom "joy costs pain".
Since my parents, one sister, and a lot of my extended family are in the Chicago suburbs, that's where I've traveled the most, probably almost 20 times in the past 10 years. (Thank you, Southwest Airlines, for direct, cheap airfare!)
I've driven hours across Texas to visit Lubbock, San Antonio, Dallas, Corpus Christi, and Houston, plus I've been to Louisiana, North Carolina, Denver, Santa Fe, Arches National Park, Mesa Verde National Park, Uinta National Forest, Salt Lake City, Oklahoma, Kansas City, St. Louis, and the Indiana Dunes.
I grieved.
I lost my grandpa, plus someone that I consider a bonus grandpa, and an aunt. Each of them were sad experiences, but as a result I spent some really good family time remembering their lives.
I held our family dog, who was my first baby and the literal Best Dog the Universe Has Ever Created, as she was put to sleep. It's an incredibly heavy thing to be the one to decide when a life ends. I think it was the worst day of my life. It was definitely the most tears I've ever cried in one day (though if you read my Star Wars review yesterday, you might be like, "Are you sure about that?"). Just typing about it is making me emotional.
When I leave this world someday and reunite with all my people, I am going to spend a good amount of time with each of them and then sneak off for a couch nap with my Izzie girl.
I made a lot of things and did a lot of things.
I made jewelry, a couple quilts, photo books, cards, Christmas ornaments, paintings, furniture makeovers, Halloween costumes, a ton of soups, a ton of bread, and way too many cookies.
I've sung karaoke, gone to every museum I could, completed dozens of puzzles, spent countless hours hunting for vintage treasures in thrift shops, and built up a really nice succulent garden.
I've taken my kids swimming hundreds of times, been to the state fair, discovered that I can actually enjoy camping (in small doses and under the right circumstances), studied Spanish, and swung on a trapeze.
I volunteered with my church, my kids' schools, and our neighborhood HOA board. I encountered the worst smell I've ever smelled as I helped muck out a couple of houses after a hurricane.
Oh! A huge change this past decade is that I got a smart phone. It's the best thing and the worst thing I've ever added to my adult life.
What's next?
In the decade to come, I expect to turn 50 and to send two of my three children off to college. One of them is already taller than me; I can't imagine what it will be like to have actual adult children. Maybe we'll move to a different house, a different city or even a different state. Or maybe we will stay here in our little one story house and pay off the mortgage and be boring suburban people forever. Our dog is 4 years old, so it's quite likely that he will not be with us ten years from now. My body will probably never work as well as it does right now, which is sobering, since I'm already annoyed at all the shoulder aches and leg pains and general old person stuff that is creeping in.
In the next decade, I hope to read more and scroll less, to travel outside of the US, to finally take a drawing class, and to find a way to write as a paying job. I hope to become someone who is on time more often, criticizes less, and tackles something big and intimidating.
Happy New Year, friends, and Happy New Decade!
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