crushedcorn

Tuesday was a bad day. Well, not necessarily a bad day, but a hard day to say the least. I had to say good-bye to a good friend that day. One that has protected me and facilitated my national travels for years, all without a judgmental sputter or a huff of malfunction. A friend that has put up with my cycles of clutter and cleanliness, one with me on camping trips and interviews. And although this eulogy may seem a tad over dramatic for a car, I am sentimentally sappy for that lovely chunk of metal.

(my car, but not my car, courtesy of Auto Mall USA)

We take pictures of our friends and family, our pets and our backyards, but so few photos of automobiles. This may seem like a “no duh” observation, but think about it: who doesn’t have a few funny stories about that aesthetically deficient rust bucket of a wagon that used to tote you and your siblings to and from school, announcing your arrival or departure with a resolute “bang!”? Sure, you were all happy to see it replaced with the good ol’ Family Truckster, but don’t you now look back on that mockery of an automobile fondly? I wish I had more pictures of my Outback, a car I visually nicknamed the “Sea Otter.” Searching through my pictures though, the mode of transportation most photographed in my collection is, ironically, a bike. I’ve vowed to myself several times that I would stop wishing I took more pictures and just take them (obviously, this may turn into a New Year’s resolution).

I know I have photos somewhere of the dogs in my life riding in the car of my life. Hannah, the temporarily displaced pit bull; Britney, the crazy-eyed, flop eared velvet girl dog; Blue, the athletic mama’s boy – all of these canines have crammed their fur into the upholstery and between the seat cushions of the Sea Otter. It was one of the few physical remnants of Colorado life that all of these pets had in common and that I still had in my possession. It was my growing up car. As I no longer have it, I should be all grown up and not mourning the loss of a car, right? But I’m not all grown up, and losing the Sea Otter is reminiscent of having my blankee thrown out when I was little; a premature end to a harmless, attached relationship.

I thought this would all help me feel better, but it’s actually making me feel the same way I did on Tuesday when I had to clean my belongings out of a car that was mangled from the outside, but sadly sweet perfection on the inside. It just felt like I was bringing some things in to the house that I had left in the car for too long. But I was crawling inside the car, shoving my cds and odd papers into a plastic bag, trying to avoid the front bumper that had been shoved in through the trunk, perpendicular to the back seat. I was fighting the quiver in my voice as I asked the auto parts manager if he could help me get my Sirius off of the dash. I was just sad.

I had really intended to write about more, less sentimental things after this, but I don’t feel like it anymore.

R.I.P. Sea Otter

2003-2007

So, everyone pretty much says that going to SuperCuts is a poor aesthetic decision. For a guy, it’s no big deal unless they cut your ear off. But for a woman, a hairstyle is a statement of attitude and a (superficial) portrayal of character. The other day at work we were discussing how having short, short hair as a woman can cause others to question your sexuality. I’m not sure how those two characteristics are related, but people like to link them together like mismatching, discolored monkeys in a barrel. Either way, I made my way into the cutting chair at Supercuts over the weekend and I was pleasantly surprised. I did go for a cut more than a trim, and I’ve decided that I’m not going to waste any more time wishing I had long, playful hair. It’s just not going to happen for me. And I’m ok with that, because that just ain’t me, baby. I’m no pop star/actress, but the following inspiration begot my new steez:

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Miss Moore definitely has more oomph in her ‘do, but I’m thinking of jazzing mine up a little bit more with some highlights or something. Man, am I seriously discussion my hair decisons? I’m stopping. Seriously. I’m not usually so mane-ly engrossed.

Off of the mindless hair-talk, I have finally decided to chill out, hopefully now and forever. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m an instant gratification kinda gal. If I want it, I want it now, even if that means I get it in a compromised form. Example: the only knitting remaining on Starsky is the collar, which requires 36″ size 10 circulars. I don’t have any here, so I jumped in the car, went to Wal-Mart, and purchased 29″ needles because that’s all that they had. And I did this while pretty much knowing that those just weren’t going to work. Why did I do that? Maybe it was just a way of making me feel like I was progressing (although, I ended up trying to knit the collar with these new needles and needless to say, I am back at square one and will be returning those sorry excuses for circulars). The way this translates into relevant life is that I was taking this same approach for finding a new job. I’d peruse the want ads and if something was mildly interesting I’d pull my cover letter and resume together at once and email my intentions into their HR inboxes. That has left me with numerous applications left neglected – possible positions abandoned by my lack of true commitment or concern. If I really want a career, shouldn’t I treat every application like it’s going to lead me to the job I’ve been looking for? I have had that habit my entire life: if I want something I’ll go for it, but without the necessary care or thought. Well, no more, I say! Out with the haphazard decision-making and actions. And that’s something I’ve realized after much unharried thought.

Before I start on my own selfish ramblings, I wanted to give a shout out to Nina, who now resides over seas with the Little Mermaid and the inhabitants of Legoland. She arrived safely in Denmark earlier this month and I was lucky enough to be able to hang out with her and the rest of the clan the Friday before her flight. I’m glad her camera shyness was overcome that day:

(3 generations out for lunch at Fogo de Chao in Chicago)

(you need to see this Halloween costume picture of the next to make sense. Watch this peacock turn into…)

(a head dress!)

We miss you Ate Nene, and we wish you the best of luck in everything you do out there!!!

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I thought it was time for a different look, and I’m not just referring to my web page – it’s time for a haircut! Even if I could do with just a simple trim, I always want to try something new when it comes to visiting the local SuperCuts. Of course, celebrity inspirations are always an influence,

(some of my favorites are Mandy Moore, Reese Witherspoon, and Natalie Portman)

but they don’t have my same face shape or course hair. So I always find myself at ground zero, trying to build my look from the ground up. So where in this mix of stars will I find myself? Well, I am always inclined to just chop it all off and go back to my roots – literally – and the days where I need to make sure I have a hefty stock of Surfhair on hand at the risk of looking like a fuzzy monkey. But I am searching for something a little more grown without being stuffy. We’ll see where I end up. It’s amazing what a new haircut can do to your own and other’s perceptions of yourself.

I’ve never really called myself a football fan. Actually, right now I could even say I loathe it. However, I find myself watching the Wisconsin/Michigan game.  Why?  I made a bet with one of the head chefs that Michigan would reign victorious over the badger nation. The terms? If I win, he buys everyone in the kitchen their Monday morning round of coffee. If he wins, I’ll be the one dishing out the Lincolns for the joe. But don’t be so naive as to think that that is all that’s on the table here. Whoever wins earns bragging rights and the responsibility to constantly remind the other person that their team is better, and don’t you forget it. Honestly though, this was mostly done out of boredom. Hah.  I guess I better be ready to face the consequences on Monday.   But I’ll do it with some fabulous looking hair.  I think this is that look that I’m going to go for:

 SuperCuts, here I come!