On The Road (again)

I spent the day in the car, in a blizzard, my 2 year old (who behaved like an angel), my sister (who slept with her mouth open, allowing us to discuss the whiteness of her teeth), my mother (who wouldn’t let anyone else drive, ever, at all) and my mother’s friend (who kept the visor down in the passenger seat so she could keep an eye on us in the mirror). 

I spent the night in a Holiday Inn Express, one of the most beautiful, fascinating, joyous places on earth according to my daughter. I slept with earplugs in my ears. And a pillow on my head. And the KindleFire on top of that pillow with the white noise app blasting. Because the snoring. My god the snoring.

Music On Monday: Foolish Games

The last few weeks have been difficult for me. Dave left. My motivation dropped off. My fatigue increased. My ability to make decisions fell sharply. And while those who are close to me are probably sick to death of the when to leave and what to do, the question of travel logistics is only part of my problem. The rest of my frazzled mind is left with more existential and less pressing issues of identity and productivity and professional ambition and long-term stability. Meanwhile I mold the mind of America’s future all day and keep the furry hearts of my dogs all night.

Whenever I have angst, I tend to turn inward. Occasionally I’ll run or walk or talk it out, but mostly I brood and let my eyes fill with tears just enough to blink them away and eat more chocolate. I go to bed early and read books that bring me comfort and listen to music.

A couple of nights ago I felt particularly sorry for myself after a fight with my sister that included my catchphrase from 1997 ‘No one understands me!’ and I was reminded of the anthems of that same era. Jewel. Oh Jewel. I would listen to her music WHILE reading her book of poetry.  For real. I loved her voice. Her lyrics. The way it seemed she understood my problems, when in reality no one could understand how the issues of a teenage girl in one of the happiest homes in middle America could be considered problems. Jewel got me through mean-girl depression. Through my first love, which ended in my first heartbreak. Through the whole mess of disturbing events that is high school. I loved her then. I love her still.

For those of you who need a heart-hug today, a treat from my formative years.

Bucket List (as of 7/15/12)

My bucket list, a work in progress.

1. Sing into a microphone. I have neither a very nice voice nor a particular audience to target, but this thought has always terrified me and so it must be done. Minimum number of drinks required before I can cross this item off my bucket list: 4.

2. Dive off a diving board. Wait, what? Yes. I can’t dive. I can stand at the edge of a pool or a dock, and bend alllllll the way over in a sort of diving-ish position and …fall into the water. Also, I like to plug my nose while doing that. Also, I’m terrified the whole time. I’m pretty much humiliated by this, and since I’m a lover of the water it seems like I should get on this. Stat. I want to be able to JUMP off a springy diving board and DIVE into the water. No belly flops.

3. Publish a novel. Or two. Probably should have done it already. Working on it now. Times two. Stay tuned for a collaborative fictional memoir and a feminist sci-fi post-apocolyptic novel. Dead serious.

4. Grow my hair reallllly long. Just so long you guys. Like a mermaid. But not long-enough-to-be-used-as-toliet-paper length. Just more like a Pantene commercial. I always get this urge to cut it. And then I give in. What would it feel like to have a really long braided ponytail? I do not know but I must find out.

5. Attend a writer’s conference. Need to. Maybe this one? Because it’s in New York City? That seems writer-ish. I can be the anti-Carrie Bradshaw, wearing TOMS and not smoking ever.

6. Attend a feminist conference. Have to. I’m willing to fly, have up to 2 connecting flights, and use my passport to get there. I dream of a place where I could talk about how annoying laundry detergent commercials are without anyone rolling their eyes. Perhaps someone would even yell out AMEN! A place where I am not the most liberal person in the room. A place where I can be me. A girl can dream.

7. A spa retreat. Hopefully in a really amazing location. For at least 2 nights. Where I partake in all the treatments. Especially that one where someone is walking on my back. And then I go to sleep with no chance of being woken up by screams of ‘Mama!’ or ‘Lane, where do we keep the <thing he should know the location of>?’

8. Train with a professional boxer. The experience of my friend Caitlin and the body of Hilary Swank after that one really depressing movie are all the motivation I need for this.

9. Go to an Olympic Opening Ceremony. This seems like something we should do with our little V when she is a bit older, so she and any other Canadian-American humans we create can wear a shirt (I’ve already designed them in my mind, note to self: learn to sew) that is half American flag, half Canadian flag and probably have their faces painted. Bringing children decked out so gloriously would be the perfect cover for ME to go absolutely bananas cheering for athletes while Dave sobbed with the emotion of it all as he usually does through any Olympic event.

10. Meet my favorite blogging friends. The internet has led me to some amazing friends. I am so lucky to have been able to meet a few of them ‘in real life.’ The connections we can make online, when used for good and not evil, can lead us to people who are SO like us and SO interesting but who we never would have met otherwise. Over the last 6 or so years I’ve created connections and friendships that really do add to my life, and it always feels so good to hug a person in the flesh. I’ve been lucky to meet Caitlin, Abby, Wai-San, Emily, and more but my online persona still needs to have a sit down with Liz, Aisling, Jelena and more recent discoveries like vegeater, Meeka’s mommy and Dominick.

11. Meet my favorite famous bloggers. Besides the friends I’ve made through my personal blog, I follow some really popular blogs written by some very intelligent people. The blogosphere is full of a lot of garbage, but there is also a lot of really interesting, thought-provoking discussion going on and when I stumble upon some I cling to it like a baby monkey on it’s mother. These are like celebrity crushes for me. I’d love to sit down with Andrea from bluemilk or Jay Smooth from Ill Doctrine, probably with notes and hopefully with alcohol. All my questions, finally answered! I would play it realllll cool, I promise, but in my head I’d probably be panic-screaming ‘omgomgomgomg’ like a tween meeting Bieber. Are tweens still into Bieber?

12. Visit Iceland. Because my friend Emily is basically the best Iceland advocate they could have ever want. Read this and this and this then tell me you don’t want to book the next flight to Reykjavik.

13. Attend Comi-Con. Now that I’m a confident, grown woman I am no longer in hiding over my love of sci-fi. I have loved it for so very long, and used to pretend I was watching 90210 like my friends when really I was watching Earth 2 or Seaquest or Star Trek: The Next Generation. It makes me sad to think I felt embarrassed about that. I was following all the news about this year’s Comic-Con and saw that Neil DeGrasse Tyson was even there?! AHHHHH! I’m missing all the fun stuff! Decades removed from having to hide paperbacks with aliens on the cover, I’d love to immerse myself in a room of people interested in the fun of fantasy. Also, science is the only thing that will save us. Just saying.

14. Own a home. I actually do not believe that owning a home is ‘the American dream.’ I don’t think home-ownership makes sense for everyone. But for us, in the town where we hope to live, it’s basically impossible to rent for a family with dogs who don’t want to live a dump. Sad, but true. I want to own some walls so I can put nail holes in them to hang all my pictures. I want to mow the lawn so my dogs have a nice place to pee. I want put up some wallpaper that will make me seem dated when someone else wants to buy it in 20 years.

15. Visit every continent minus Antarctica. No offense Antarctica, but I get it. It’s cold. And beautiful. And I’m not against cold beauty (see Iceland above) but I just really don’t have a good feeling about a trip that far into the nowhere of Iceburg town. As of now, I still have to hit up Austrailia, South America and Africa. We’ve got family in Melbourne, friends in Equador…looking for a host in an African country. Better start a penny jar because our frequent flyer miles are just not going to cut it.

Music On Monday (yes i know it’s tuesday): Long Way Around

Is it Tuesday? Who can even remember. We are back from our world tour of family and friends, culminating in a visit to southern Ontario to meet the family of the man my sister is marrying. Because apparently she is old enough to get married. We had a wonderful time but wow, did this ever take a toll on all of us in terms of sleep patterns. And by all of us I mean the baby. And by sleep patterns I mean she won’t sleep when we want her to…annoying.

For those long hours in the car we were kicking it old school with radio and CDs since that thingy that connects our iPod to our car was broken. And while it seemed like a devastating loss at first, we actually got to listen to lots of NPR and several old CDs found under the passenger seat. In that collection was a fair bit of Dixie Chicks, who I am not ashamed to say I love. Girl power and progressive politics and writer/musicians are not easy to find in the realm of popular country music, but here it all is in droves.

This song always did resonate with us since at nearly 31 years young I still don’t own a home, have a career, or know how to use a lot of normal kitchen utensils. We’re cutting a path in life that isn’t ‘traditional’ and confuses many of our loved ones (read: our mothers) and now, the ultimate unexpected twist, my sister (who preached/preaches against this lifestyle the most) is following in our footsteps. Which means that, at this time of year, as minor-pro hockey players are negotiating contracts and gambling with waiting and crossing fingers and toes and making difficult choices, she knows how it feels to get the questions over and over about where you are going and don’t you get sick of this and when will you know and how does it work.

Take heart, my sister, maybe someday, someday we’re gonna settle down…

Visit the Music on Monday archives.

On The Road (again and again and again)

For over a week we’ve been hopping from place to place.

I’ve been having some fun of my own…

But most of the week has been spent watching our girl bond with her friends and family. In matching shirts.

And matching non-shirts.

With her 3rd (?) cousin…how does that all work exactly?

Both looking very serious when they learn about the antics their mothers used to get up to…

130 pounds meets 23 pounds.

One generation to the next.

They share a love of beer with their fathers.

Then on to more serious things like strolling through my alma mater.

And bidding my girl farewell before trusting Dave with my spinal cord in rural Ontario.

We’re spending one more day in this lovely place.

Then a long trip home to stay put for a while…or a few weeks at least.

Music On Monday: Disparate Youth

We are on the return portion of this road trip. We lounging in the luxury that is a king sized bed with our four-legged children while our two-legged child snores in the corner. We are savoring the silence (except for the whoosh of the white noise app) and the dark and the free wifi after a walk and a swim and long day of travel.

Fun fact: Minnesota is an AWESOME state when it comes to the ease with which you can find NPR on the radio. So today we heard Santigold interviewed and found her to be charming, funny, smart and, of course, very musically talented. Enjoy.

Visit the Music On Monday archives.

As You Read This

As you read this, Dave and I are spending a 24 hour travel day trying to contain all this. In the car on the way to Tokyo. Over the Pacific. In the Detroit airport. On the tiny plane that will bring us to our final destination. I wonder how that is going for me?

We Do This Thing

We do this thing.

I clean like a maniac the day Dave is coming home from a road trip. And when he tells me how great it is to come home to such a clean house (and he does say it every time he comes home where did I find this man?!) and I pretend like I didn’t just do it in a frenzied hour and ohbytheway please don’t open that closet thanks. He pretends to believe that and never opens the closet.

Dave takes the baby and tells me to rest and says he’s not tired no not one bit. I mean yes, he says, I played 3 games in 4 days and traveled for 12 hours to get here…but you need a rest, mama! And I pretend to believe him and say let’s just all rest together.

A Day at the Onsen.

My sister came from Norway last week to visit the baby and I in Japan while Dave was on the road to South Korea. We squeezed in as much quality time, sightseeing, and eating as we could into 6 short days.

On her first, and in all likelihood last, trip to Japan I wanted to show Alley local spots that she would always remember. Like the hole in the wall where we ate ramen or the grocery store where she finally understood what made me vomit on my first week here. And finally, the hot spring, or onsen, where we got naked with a bunch of strangers.

It’s not like I’ve never been naked in public before. The nuclear family we were raised in wasn’t exactly on a commune, but nudity wasn’t a big deal and prudes we are not. And my previous experiences abroad have shown me that, by in large, Americans are quite unique in the world in our simultaneous obsessions with sex/nudity/sexualizing everything AND modesty/chastity/body shame. We are a confused people.

Taking a naked sauna with your husband and any countless number of Germans of both genders one thing. But for some reason it was something totally different when we headed to Yashio Onsen in Nikko National Park. I’m fine with being naked. I’m fine with being naked with my sister. My baby sees me naked all the time, but I was a little worried because…well…she has a bit of a breast fixation. Generally, when I don’t want her to think it’s snack time, I have to keep the ladies covered.

We arrived at the onsen after on a few *ahem* minor issues with navigation by my sister. Let’s just say she didn’t get her sense of direction from me or my dad. We got our tickets, took off our shoes and headed into the locker room. And lockers can mean baskets, meaning we trust people not to steal our underpants. What a country!

When you enter the spa area, you queue up for a shower. In Japan it’s common to shower sitting on a stool (which I did not kn0w when I arrived here, making me very confused initially by the mirror at crotch level in our shower at home), and at the spa this is how it’s done. You sit down on a stool with a hole in the middle, presumably to let water flow through, just after some other lady removed her own naked butt from the same stool. It all seems kind of wrong but…when in Nikko, do as the Nikkoans! After you scrub yourself VIGOROUSLY, you’re set to go. There is an outdoor hot spring in a bowl of boulders, an indoor spa with jets, a long, still indoor spa, a dry sauna, a wet sauna (to me this means steam room?) and an outdoor courtyard where you can cool down. Nude.

The onsen is said to have healing properties for body aches, joint pain, and is even considered a treatment for some chronic illnesses. I don’t know about all that, but my sister’s mysterious leg pain was cured after our soak in the volcanic waters. However, she also believed the multivitamin my mom was giving her for years was a sleeping pill (and it really did put her to sleep), so we have to assume she is very susceptible to the placebo effect.

Overall the experience was really, really enjoyable. The water was really warm, but not really hot unless you got close to where it was entering the spa. The baby is generally a fan of water (especially when heated to a temperature of her liking) but she really went BANANAS for the hot spring. She was squealing, kicking her legs like a little frog and splashing. Splashing a lot. Which probably would have annoyed the mostly older ladies in our company, but seriously this baby is so cute. Smiling away, loving life with her big blue eyes and her little bum so cute in the nylon pink and purple swim diaper…it was kawaiiiiiiiiii kawaiiiiiiiiiii all over that spa. She was so overwhelmingly absorbed in all the sights and sounds of the room and the thrill of being in a tub of water she never even considered trying to grab a snack from my top half. Thank goodness.

Nothing Quite Like

Watching your sister and your daughter read together, falling more in love all the time.

Seeing them ‘play’ together while my sister sleeps through my baby’s finger up her nose. Let’s blame the jet-lag combined with her inheritance of my dad’s ability to sleep deeply under any circumstance.

And realizing their shared affection for (faux)fur stoles.

Watching your sister’s adventurous spirit at the sushi restaurant turn into a battle against vomiting at the table.

Having to cut your sister off at karaoke because she has a little too much enthusiasm for screaming ballads at the top of her voice.

We had an amazing time together this week. Just me, my sister, and my daughter, a really rare chance to be just the three of us. Thanks, Al, for traveling all the way from Norway to Japan and back. We love you.