Ambassadors

Tropisms by Ambassadors

"THE AMBASSADORS are… … Sam Harris, Casey Harris, Noah Feldshuh, and Adam Levin. They play very nice together and they find it hard to stop."

http://www.myspace.com/ambassadorsband

Parents

On the phone last night, SE and I were discussing a Christmas decor makeover. His new motif would be a color theme. In approximately his own words, 'the same kind of thing I used to make fun of my mom for.' I laughed as I said this is how we know we are grown up, we circle back and adopt the traits of our parents that we once made fun of. My mom prides herself in her razor sharp memory, and as age has necessitated that she write things down, I say that she is maturing into a better version of herself: me! I write everything down for fear of forgetting.

As I listen to Sandra Tsing Loh this morning, she is again telling a story about her incredibly cheap and eccentric dad. I feel she owes him a great portion of her career, I've listened to many a story about his hitchhiking and using a cereal box as a briefcase. Many people tell these types of stories about their parents. I tell the worst ones as a way of saying all this happened, but I turned out ok, right? You don't think my family's completely nuts, right? Asking for reassurance that I'm normal.

Maybe we tell these things to make peace with our childhoods. I did not know at the time that reciting my multiplication tables as quickly as possible, using the seconds dial on the dashboard of our Chevy Caprice Classic station wagon, was not a game. Though it sounds super dorky now, I know more of my 13 time tables than most people my age. If that is not something to be proud of, well, maybe we shouldn't be hanging out.

I love these stories because it shows me, that like our parents, age has softened me and taken some of the edge off of the memories; it's easier now to look back and laugh at that which may have upset or annoyed me. And just in case you were wondering, thirteen squared is 169.

Repeat One

I used to drive my college roommate crazy by listening to DMB's "Satellite" on repeat one. Good thing we don't share an office. I sometimes leave songs on repeat one for hours at a time.

From Himalayas to Helmand

From The Atlantic, a video by Anup Kaphle

"For almost two centuries, the Gurkhas have held a place among the fiercest and most loyal warriors in modern history. This group of young men, who come mostly from the rugged hills of rural Nepal, have fought for the British in almost every war since 1815. Today, members of the Royal Gurkha Rifles have a robust presence in Afghanistan's Helmand province. They play an invaluable role in training and mentoring programs for the Afghan National Police and the Afghan National Army, mainly because of the cultural knowledge they bring with them."

Life is a series of tiny miracles

This is a Post-It on my computer monitor at work. Life really is a series of tiny miracles. The process it takes to create ten fingers and ten toes is insane! Can you imagine how many chemical reactions have to occur at the proper moment in order to make a little person? A ball of eight cells divides correctly each time, replicates correctly each time, and differentiates into the correct type of cell at the correct time.

How does everything come together to this, to today? Thousands upon thousands of teeny, tiny miracles.

My something

From our Black Friday walk on Abbot Kinney.

Woo gobble!

I have been waiting for this day for a couple weeks now. My little heart has been bursting with thankfulosity. Now that Thanksgiving is here, I feel less enthusiastic about making a public list of what I'm thankful for. The entire year has been pretty incredible, and I only anticipate it getting better.

I was hoping to save the juicy stuff for my New Year's retrospective, but why pickle happiness for later? Earlier this year I told my friend B that this could be the best year ever. I befriended and began to date SE, I've had the opportunity to present and publish my work, I ran TransRockies, and I'm applying to grad school. I want to be sure I remember how I feel right now, this warm blanket of content.

Joshua Tree NP

After years of careful consideration, I’ve decided I like everything about being outside and camping. I like all the usual things: fresh air, scenery, hiking, campfires, and having a break from phones & computers. My absolute favorites:

• you know you have good friends when you spend all your waking hours with them and you still look forward to making plans with them at the end of the weekend
• after 48 hours of driving, making camp in the dark, being cold, cooking over a fire, and no bathing, you still find your significant other to be pretty dreamy
• you get to be “camp clean” instead of city clean – who knew you could eat with utensils that have a little bit of last night’s dinner stuck to them?
  

That said, I know there are downsides. Sometimes a rock will jump out and attack your shin, leaving a ginorms scrape down the front of your leg.

Stretching

A long time ago, when I was a teenager, I saw "The Shell Seekers" on TV. Years later, on vacation with my mom and sister in Seattle, I bought the book at a thrift store. I still have it. It became a bath book, so it's now wrinkly and coverless. The main character notes that there is a certain luxury in being apart from her lover. To be alone, but know that he was coming back. To continue to have a bond across some time and distance.

The time apart, even when it's a little bit, gives whatever it is between two people a chance stretch its legs. I can't help but to imagine today (Sunday) that this is not unlike when God put his feet up and said, "This is good."

Oh, and it always helps to be listening to Weezer, that's good too.

Joel Stein

Why are you so funny? If you keep this up, I won't be able to read you at work anymore. Not sure if my co-workers appreciate my random outbursts of laughter.

http://twitter.com/thejoelstein

Oh crap, he's right. But hear me out.

So SE observed that I follow a blog written by a woman that lost her daughter at 18 months, I have a memoir by an author that lost her son during labor, and some other thing that involves the death of a child. I actually have more: I've read The Book of Calamities, Why Bad Things Happen to Good People, and follow Ayelet Waldman's blog. Ayelet and her husband decided to terminate a 2nd trimester pregnancy after discovering a genetic anomaly. Why am I drawn to these stories?

I'm pretty comfortable with my current experience of death. I was there for the last few months and final minutes of someone's life, I watched someone go into atrial fibrillation as their liver was exsanguinated, and I volunteered for pediatric hospice. I think it's the same reason I watched "Intervention." It's proof that people are incredibly resilient. I don't think any of them are the same, but they're surviving, and surviving well. They got pregnant again, gave birth, and emerged with their marriages intact. The worst things can happen to you, and you can still be okay.

I think I often seek guarantees in unlikely places. Life is neither REI nor Nordstrom (though that would be awesome). So in the end it's not so much the tragedy of the above that I focus on, but the rising from the ashes and continuing to live a good life, everyday, and making an effort be happy that I admire.

Isn't Lent Over?

I gave up being annoyed for Lent this year. Clearly, Lent is over, as the baby Jesus is about to visit us. I am still working on it. My original thought was to try and document something positive everyday, making deposits into the good mood bank. But I will value honesty above the theme and say that I have been irritated. I tried really hard not roll my eyes, and I think I succeeded. Until I read the first 11 pages of a certain book. Or some other stuff, but I said I would work on it.

Never Begrudge the Genuine

Even when the genuine is a really sweaty guy with long hair be-bopping to The Pixies. I am really glad we were insulated by the hipster standing between us, taking the spray. I could just imagine the droplets slowly flying through the air, flattening out as they land on the nearest person, and then absorbing into said person's t-shirt, making a small dot of perspiration.

I love it when people are enthusiastic. It makes me happy regardless of the thing that's making them happy. It could be a really ugly dog, but gd, if they love that dog, I'm happy for them.

Oh, This American Life . . .

Episode #349

My idealism, high standards, so much expected from others, are my defiance of the bad in the world. My rebellion against cynicism. My small stand against what the world sometimes throws at us. Against infidelity, against falling out of love, against all that we cannot control. My throat aching with both the happiness and bittersweetness. I am brave, daring the world to disappoint me. And promising to go on even if I get disappointed. I know it is inevitable.

Episode #349 is the Valentine's Day 2008 episode.