I would hope I'd be Chandler.

You would be hard-pressed to scroll through any online media or news site and find something along the lines of "What I've learned in my 32 years." or "How I chose to live a happier life." or "Advice to my 25-year-old-self" mysteriously missing. Why? Because these types of articles are the "philosophical" equivalent of "What Friends star would you be?"-type quizzes and "Bout to get my __________ on! Just sayin'." status updates....they are everywhere (For what it's worth, I take the Buzzworthy quizzes with far more fervor than any reasonably sane person should. The end result could be a conclusive explanation of what kind of cheese I would be or what city I should call home...i love them all. I am fairly certain, however, that I have never suggested I was 'bout to get my anything on). 

And in complete disclosure, I typically find myself clicking the link for all of these articles. I know that I will likely just find more of the same cliche stuff that frequents every other list - be grateful/mindful, value sleep, drink water/meditate/exercise, money doesn't buy happiness...but it makes things easier, never stop dreaming, you will always have to compromise - yet I read anyway.  I suppose a part of me is simply looking for validation of the things that I have also come to know/accept, but the bigger part is hoping that, in one of those bullet points, I will finally find the key....to complete contentment, to trusting my decisions, to actually being the "best me I can be." 

And so I read...

But inevitably don't. 

And while I realize that my disappointment is illegitimate considering 1) there is no magic life key and 2) there is no sound reason some random blogger should be able to really "speak to" my soul and mind as though we were BFFs, I always find myself frustrated, thinking things like "Well, no shit, of course sleeping four hours on a couch every night isn't bringing out the best Liza I can be." 

If "sounds like someone needs to meditate and be more mindful of blah, blah, blah." is going through your mind right now, quit reading my blog. You are dead to me. 

Here's what I choose instead...

I have asked several women in my life to answer a variety of questions that typically inspire these types of articles. Some are very close girlfriends, some are acquaintances who I wish I knew better, some are women who I have never actually met, but who inspire me. There will be a wide spectrum of careers, incomes, ages, and locations represented. The similarities between this impressive group of women, however, is far more significant than their differences.  They all seem to really be living life. They take chances. They have fun. They think and read. They love. They seem passionate. They are the ones through whom I like to vicariously live. 

And so, in the next post, you will hear from these ladies. 

Until then, however, I offer my thoughts on the same questions I posed to them.  While none of us have that elusive magic key, maybe, just maybe, we will say something that makes you think, or laugh, or take solace in your own thoughts. 

Or...we might just make you roll your eyes and think cuss words. In which case, close Pillow Book and go get your Buzzworthy quizzes on instead.   

***

1. Do you consciously resolve to be a better/happier woman? How do you do this?

I do.  I actually probably overthink this. I am constantly trying to come up with ways to be more productive or a better steward to my community/world or just generally a happier person.  I have not settled on some definitive answer yet, but here are some specific things I do in search: I write letters to friends, I make to-do lists of things I really don't want to, but need to, do and I do at least two of them, I read through my gratitude jar, I reread passages from my favorite books, I go through my Pinterest boards and try recipes or projects that I pinned long ago, but never did, I take my dogs to the creek and let them play, I fix coffee, pour it in my favorite mug, and sit on the porch, I make lists of the places I want to go and the things I want to do, I tell someone why I appreciate them, I walk the farm or clean stuff at the barn, I declutter and give or throw away things that I don't need or have not used. 

2. What advice would you give to someone in their early/mid 30s regarding a fulfilled life? 

If you have to talk yourself into it, it probably doesn't fulfill you. Realize that stability is important - you have to have to job, you have to take care of responsibilities, you should appreciate what you do have - but if acceptance is the product of constant reminders and logical analysis, there is likely something more that you really want. Figure out what that is. You may never pursue it or you may even decide (sometimes upon crashing and burning) that your reality was in fact quite greener, but living with "what if"s or constantly questioning "What is missing?" will crush your soul.  Don't be afraid to consider this question. 

3. What lesson have you learned the hard way? 

One of the greatest fairy tales of life is that if you work hard enough or want something badly enough, you will achieve it/it will (or, will not, in some cases) happen. This is not true. Accept that. Sometimes this is learned through death. Sometimes through lost love. Sometimes through denial letters. There often is no silver lining. When one door closes, another one does not always open. But...

work hard and want something desperately anyway. One way to survive loss is take comfort in knowing you did everything you could. 

4. If you wrote one quote on your bathroom mirror, what would it be? 

"Decide what to be and go be it." 

5. If you had one piece of advice for your daughter/best friend/[any other woman of significance in your life], what would it be?  
Don't be around people who make you question your self-worth. You are stronger than that. 

***

This is switching gears a bit, but not entirely. Stay with me...

You know, jumping out of a plane sounds much more scary than it actually is.

No, really.

When I think about or tell people the basics - climbing to an elevation of 10,000 ft. in a five-seater plane on a cloudy, drizzly day (by the way, "drizzle" at 120 mph isn't like the "Oh, I don't need an umbrella to walk to the car. It's just drizzling." sort of rain); standing on a 6" ledge at that height in a slightly oversized, Kentucky-blue jumpsuit with black rectangle accents; crossing my arms, leaning my head back and jumping out with the parachute-toting, tandem skydiving instructor I only met about thirty minutes prior - I'll admit that it sounds pretty outrageous. I promise you, though, it didn't feel that way at all to me.  Exhilarating, surreal, inexplicable, yes. Scary, careless, unsafe, no.

I realize that seems to make very little sense.

Well, here is my rationale...
1. The staff at Skydive KY in Elizabethtown, while professional, was friendly and laid-back. They had an office dog. They didn't offer cliche or corny jokes about flying/jumping/landing. I did not hear "dude" once. They suggested that we would have fun, but never implied that we were embarking on some life-altering adventure.  In short, they seemed capable, but relaxed.  I had avoided talking about the trip to anyone beforehand because I did not want to answer questions or be burdened with others' fears or excitement. I appreciated that in the two hours or so before the jump, the time when we were signing liability forms, being trained, and watching other people jump, I could still live in this environment of relative calm, devoid of nervous chit-chat or unnecessary verbal build-up.

2. I trusted the person I was with. I never questioned whether Lee would do it. I never worried that I would have to talk him into it and in so doing, make myself more nervous. I knew that if anything seemed askew or I was in any danger, he would stop it. I knew that we would both have fun and not take it too seriously.  I knew he would be up for Cracker Barrel biscuits afterward.

3. I think we should do out-of-the-ordinary things when given the opportunity.
4. I realize that I could die tomorrow on my way to the library. I realize that if we worried about everything that could go wrong, we would do nothing, whether that was mundane tasks like driving to the grocery store or extreme sports like skydiving.
5. Even though I have certainly made mistakes, done my fair share of stupid, stupid things, and have regrets, I know that in the past few years I have consciously tried to live the best life I can live. I have made hard choices, I have taken chances, I have tried to be more open with my feelings, I have pursued some of my dreams, and kept hope that the untouched ones might be fulfilled. I guess I am just more of the Avett Brothers mindset, "if I live the life I'm given, I won't be scared to die."

Plus, as i said, jumping out of a plane really isn't as scary as it sounds.;)

"Solitude is blessed."

I finally did it.

Goodbye sliding keyboard phone. Goodbye keys that don't work and thus make my texts illegible. Goodbye surprise presents, ranging from twin decorated tin cans to an old Blackberry, that have been dropped off at the library to both mock and assist. Goodbye all Facebook suggestions to upgrade like a normal person.

Hello....
Samsung Freeform! You are a much nicer non-smart phone than I had!

That's right; I refuse to cave until phone companies absolutely make me.

***
Here is why I refuse to get a smart phone:
1. I don't want to be like 95% of the people I know with smart phones. I don't want to be scrolling all the time. I don't want to have my phone out at dinner or when I'm with friends. I want to pay attention to people when they're talking.  I am already distracted enough; I don't need one more thing to fiddle with....and I'm on no delusional high horse; if I had it, I would use it. Hell, I've wasted HOURS watching America's Next Top Model marathons.  My willpower is not that strong.
2. I don't want everything to be easy. I like stopping to ask for directions (i.e. "get a fountain drink"). I like finding recipes in actual cookbooks and taking pictures with an actual camera and reading actual books.  I like trying to figure things out (same reason I am often hesitant to use a calculator) instead of just punching something in and relying on someone else to give me an answer. We are getting increasingly lazy and dependent; I want to prevent or stall that as long as possible.
3. There are other things I would rather spend the money on.
4. I think Louis C.K makes a couple of great points: A) Just because it's available, doesn't mean we have to do it. B) We rely on technology in part because of an inability to be alone.
***
Speaking of which...
I love this video, not only because it validates my loner tendencies, but because it reminds me to really be present in my life....and to do things like go to an unknown-to-me city and just roam.  I'm not going to lie and say that living alone is always easy. It's not. Sometimes I get stuck in my own head, the silence around me accelerating a medley of "what if"s. Sometimes I just want to cook supper for someone. Sometimes I wish I had kids' ball uniforms to wash.  For the most part, though, I embrace my solitude. I love going to movies alone. It has never bothered me to eat at restaurants alone. I like imagining all the things I can do, all the places I can go, and all the things I can try...primarily because I have few restraints. I like walking into a house that looks exactly like it did when I left in the morning. I like not having to compromise.  None of this is to suggest that I have no desire to be a part of a family unit again sometime or that I am unwilling to relinquish some freedom (I was very fortunate to live in that world for a while)...only that being alone and being lonely are not the same for me.
 ***
I like this a lot.

Lessons from the circulation desk...

Until I started working at the library, I had no idea what a huge variety of people live in Cumberland County. That isn't to suggest, of course, that I had ever espoused the redneck generalizations and stereotypes of small, southern towns; I knew we weren't a bunch of uneducated hicks who all drove big trucks and had field parties well into our 30s and 40s. Those people exist primarily, if not only, in Luke Bryan songs. Do we have dumb people? And racists? And homophobes? And moochers? And jackasses? Well, sure. ... just like every other small town and big city in America.

On the other hand, we also have some of the most genuine, hard-working, and kind people I will ever know.  If I were going to run out of gas, I'd want it to be in Cumberland County. If I needed help moving furniture, or assistance at the barn, or advice on some random piddle project of choice, I could turn to any number of neighbors and friends.  In my moments of arrogant exhaustion, I regain perspective by looking around at all those people who are getting up earlier than me/working longer and harder/coming home later.  If I want to see goodness personified, I only have to drive three minutes and spend less than that with my grandmother.

Obviously, this is not some profound conclusion. Just as some seem inclined to promote the barefoot and pregnant nonsense, an equal, if not greater, number consistently play-up the "aww, shucks" nature of small-town life. Laced with oft-unintentional condescension, descriptions of the compassion, pride, and revered naivete of areas like Cumberland County sometimes seem like back-handed compliments in a "bless their hearts" sort of way. Intelligence is neither assumed, nor acknowledged. Political awareness is overlooked. Reading, music, and art affinities get lost in discussions of smiles, waves, and general hospitality.

My point is simply that in addition to all the things I mentioned in the second paragraph, Cumberland County is also home to some of the most multifaceted, interesting, and intelligent people I know. And working at the public library reminds me of this nearly every day.  For every one rude person who comes in trying to scam us in an attempt to check out movies under an alias, there are four who give me book suggestions or talk about something they saw on the news or invite me to a play or ballgame or fundraiser in which their child is participating. Local authors come in and do book signings.  A huge variety of people stop by to pick up farmers market applications. PhDs, retired doctors, renowned artists, decorated military servicemen/women, teachers, skilled craftsmen/women, jack-of-all-trades pseudo engineers and farmers with more knowledge than nearly every professor I've ever had, and successful business owners frequent the library just as much as those to whom many assume the public library caters: the unemployed, the poor, the shiftless, the outcast, the loner.

We also have people who take ten years to reach the crux of their argument. Sorry. ...

I say all of this to highlight one particular comment from one particular patron on one particular Saturday morning. She said something I found so profound that it has stuck with me for 15 days and literally been on my mind every one of those. Offering a review of Elizabeth Gilbert's The Signature of All Things, a book
she knew I had read and enjoyed a few weeks prior, she applauded the way it came full circle at the end, describing how the tragic heroine finally acknowledges that "the most monumental thing we ever have to face is the betrayal of ourselves, the betrayal of our common sense."

Now, as I said, I've read that book. And I consider myself a fairly analytical and introspective person...BUT, I would have NEVER come up with something so articulate and eloquent.  I would have been incapable of reducing a 500-page novel to something so accurately poignant. I'm not sure I have ever had an original thought so replete with tragic depth and truth.  And, I think it important to note that as much as I initially was, and have remained, impressed by her conclusion, I have been equally haunted by it for two weeks now. I have looked at her words, the quote I quickly scribbled down on the little yellow post-it notes we keep by the circulation desk and have kept it affixed to the cover of Gilbert's book that I'm currently reading, Committed: A skeptic makes peace with marriage.  But these are glances, despite their frequency, unsustainable by choice. To linger would be to question. Focus would breed regret. Simply put, if I took the time to really think about this statement, to consider the times I have betrayed my gut, my heart, my mind, it would be painful. Trying to rationalize those times to myself or to anyone else will be emotionally and descriptively difficult. I know I have been there though. I know she is right to call it the most monumental of tasks.

I don't feel ready this morning to go into any details. As I've said since I started this blog around four years ago, when I write stuff down, I'm more inclined to do it.  I just thought putting it out there would be impetus for me to take the time to really evaluate choices that I would rather hide in the confines of a mind purposely overflowing with projects, recipes, and chores.

Plus, it gave me a chance to brag on my patrons and the area that I do so love.
Thank you for keeping me inspired. Thank you for encouraging me to think.  Thank you for being so much more than Luke Bryan songs suggest, Cumberland County.
***
I haven't posted much this winter, so I thought I would share a few of my favorite moments from the past few months...

This I (don't) believe in...

In the last post, I closed with Silas House's essay, "The Knowing," written for the recently released anthology, This I Believe: Kentucky, a collection published by an organization of the same name. As described on the company website linked here, "This I Believe is an international organization engaging people in writing and sharing essays describing the core values that guide their daily lives. Over 100,000 of these essays, written by people from all walks of life, are archived here on our website, heard on public radio, chronicled through our books, and featured in weekly podcasts. The project is based on the popular 1950s radio series of the same name hosted by Edward R. Murrow."


I included it in the last post, one dedicated to animal-themed projects, because I love Silas House and I love my dogs.  I appreciate that of all the noble concepts he could have so eloquently explored - some element of faith or friendship or tradition or love - he chose a theme seemingly mundane. While many of us consider our pets "family" and understand the reciprocal devotion nurtured in these relationships, if given the opportunity to tell the literary world about our "core values that guide [our] daily lives," I doubt many of us would go with "dogs make us better people." No, we'd probably try to tug heartstrings with moving soliloquies about things that seem more "literary worldish." We'd use a bunch of adjectives.  We'd employ emotional catharsis to relay passion. We'd likely make the stoics and skeptics among us gag. 


And I offer that last little pleasant prediction because I myself have felt it. Sometimes when I hear people talk about their certainties and beliefs, I secretly scoff. And while aware of my figurative eye rolls, I have never really thought too much about the motivating rationale until the past few days.  So, while I included the House essay because of a very literal and obvious connection to the last post's dog theme, it has (somewhat frustratingly) sparked a much different philosophical conversation in my head. I have been forced to consider, "What do I believe or believe in?"


The answer I've come up with: very little.


And I want to say up front that I don't think what follows puts me on some intellectual or analytical pedestal. While doubt is sometimes a product of open-mindedness, science, or research, it can also be a sign of weakness, selfishness, or lack of resolve. In fact, I associate some of my own skepticism with these obviously less noble motivations. I certainly wish I could, in good conscience, espouse lofty (yet entirely authentic) faith in more than I do.  When it comes down to it, however, I take neither pride in, nor feel guilty about, my conclusions on the four basic categories below (categories that seem to be the "go-to"s when discussing belief/faith). It simply is what it is.


In religion...
I pray, but to whom or what, I don't know. I don't believe that things happen for a reason and I take very little comfort in notions of "divine paths" or "destiny." I would never suggest that I have an understanding of heaven or hell or that I know who might end up in either. I know kind people who are atheists and kind people who are devout Christians; I don't think either kindness trumps the other.  I don't have any real sense of what faith means to me.


In others...
I have complete trust in only two people.  I know what to expect from them. I think they have a strong grasp of their own core values and feel fairly confident that if I were to ask them questions today, I would get the same answers I would get if I ask them those same questions in ten years. I feel like they know, and appreciate, the me that I like.  This isn't to suggest that I don't respect, or even love, other people in my life; I simply don't find a sense of comfort and stability in those relationships.


In myself...
I can come across as confident...and sometimes I actually feel that way.  Speaking my mind about things that matter to me is not a problem.  I consider myself a moral person with good intentions.  Nevertheless, my issues with stability in others are the same issues I have with myself.  I worry I don't have the resolve to stick with/to things for the "long haul;" I'm always dreaming of other possibilities or pondering what I could - or should - be doing.  I have little confidence that the things I want now will be the same things I'll want in 5, 10 or 20 years.  I crave a sense of settledness, and yet fight against it with everything I have. 


In love...
While some people do affect us in profound ways, often both indescribable and unexpected, I don't really believe in soul mates.  I think we can love a variety of people in completely different ways and occasionally at overlapping times.  I don't think "love is enough" or that "love conquers all." I think sometimes those who would be best for each other can't be together because of circumstances beyond their control. I don't think things necessarily "work out in the end." I think we can miss and regret and mourn someone for an infinite amount of time.  Does love exist? Of course. And do some people have what most would classify as "true love"? Sure. Will we all have it? No.


What I do believe in...
*Dogs DO make us better people.  Whatever my understanding of faith is, I have more of it in my animals than I do in anything else in my life.  I know Charley will scratch my nose when I try to put the leash on her in the morning because she's so excited to go out.  I know Lucy and Willie would protect me at all costs. I know Lightning is not going to kick me when I'm cleaning the stall while he eats breakfast.  I know which blanket DC likes to use as a bed and which of my shoulders Wendell prefers to sit on while he loudly gives himself a bath. I know they all make my life better. I know they make me less selfish. I know they know I love them.


*the Avett Brothers. This sounds dumb considering I doubt my faith in a higher power, in others, and myself. I don't care; it's the truth. I see my life in their songs.  I feel more alive when I'm at their concerts than I do at just about any other time.  They inspire me to be more honest because they make me think about how I really feel.


*the influence of books/art/synchronized dance and the power of collective joy.


*the legacy of my father and my desire to lead a life that he would be proud of.


*the possibility that one day I'll have faith in more.
***
I also believe that sometimes we have to fake it...for our own sanity, so as to not put others in weird positions, to keep or regain perspective, and/or because wallowing never fixed anything.  I saw this on a friend's Facebook or Pinterest page a couple of weeks ago and although neither an uncommon nor particularly witty cliché, it was a affecting slap in the face when I needed it most.

I had been sad and sad for a while. I had not worn much makeup because I figured I would just cry and mess it up at some point in the day. I just didn't care what others thought or saw. I was stuck in my own frustrations.

The best thing I did for myself: I got up one morning and put on mascara. 

Not allowing yourself to fall apart...this I believe in. 



"Fishin' in the Dark" would be my second choice.

In the last post, I mentioned this article, "18 Things Everyone Should Start Making Time For Again." I don't know why "18" was picked. I somewhat question the use of "Again" in the title; I'm not sure a few of the list-toppers have ever been commonplace. Several make me feel guilty because I know I should be doing them, but aren't (ex. "making phone calls to relatives" and "answering things in a timely fashion").  Nevertheless, I'm so glad Zach posted this on my Facebook page. I love that even today, some three weeks or so after I read it, I can still name most that are on the list.  I love that the author mentioned "getting dressed up for no reason" and "cooking a nice meal for the sake of doing so." I love that it inspired me to come up with my own list...

25 Things Everyone Should Start Making Time For...in my humble opinion:
1. Watch your favorite movies.
In the past two weeks, I've enjoyed Love Actually, When Harry Met Sally, and The Great Debaters.

2. Ask your grandparents questions.
Don't go for open-ended questions like "What's one of your favorite memories from childhood?" No one likes that kind of on-the-spot question. Stay simple: What was one of your favorite toys growing up? What was Dad's favorite food when he was little? What was your first job?

3. Make to-do lists. Keep them handy.
The time it takes to sit down and write out your list will be much less than the time you spend looking befuddled in a parking lot and wondering why you just drove to the Dollar Store.

4. Do pranks on co-workers.
Don't waste a lot of time doing it, but do it nevertheless. Why? Because it's fun.

5. Tell people you like an accessory they're wearing (earrings, socks, scarf, etc).
Sometimes we throw on whatever clothes are handy/clean/required, but we tend to purposely choose accessories that we think "look like us" or make us happy. It's nice when people see us the way we see ourselves or comment on things that we think reflect our most authentic selves.

6. Get a library card!
Because reading something every day makes you better. In every way.

7. Really pet and love on your animals.
Our animals are more devoted to us than nearly every human in our lives.  They don't stay mad at us when we've been jerks. They are always excited to see us pull in the driveway.  Don't take them for granted. Obligatory pats or head scratches are not good enough.

8. Tell people why you respect them.
Of course it's nice to let people know you appreciate them, think they're funny, and/or enjoy their company.  Respect, however, is hard to earn and much harder to keep.  Those who are able to do so, deserve to know.

9. Read something in the news that really doesn't interest you.
Every morning, I pick out at least one article on the Huffington Post that I really can't relate to or have very little interest in. Why? Because it's good to learn something. It's good to be disciplined. It's good to do things that you really don't want to do.

10. Make your own breads, pie crusts, pizza crusts.
It's not hard. It's cheap. You'll know what's actually in it.  You'll be more inspired to then make pies, pizzas, and actual meals.

11. Plan weekly menus.
You'll be less inclined to buy crap you will not use.  You'll save money. You feel more organized when you walk in from work and are hungry.

12.Write.
Anything...cards, poems, gratitude jar entries, diaries, blogs, quotes on chalkboards.

13. Make your house "look like you."
If you don't smile when you look around your house, change some things. Pottery Barn is nice, but it does not speak of a life well-lived.

14. Have coffee/tee/cocoa in the afternoons.
In a favorite mug.

15. Think about one good part of your day before you go to bed.
Go to sleep with a grateful heart.

16. Figure out what song you think would be the perfect flash mob song.  Ponder scenarios in which you could make said flash mob happen.

17. Take a small gift to someone.
Suggestions: a good pen and cute notepad, a bag of their favorite candy, a gift certificate for a Blizzard.

18. Tell people "thank you" even if it's "their job" to do the task in question. More generally speaking, don't be shy with long overdue "thank you"s.

19. Dream. Imagine possibilities. Give yourself a chance.
We are typically too quick to belittle or question ourselves. Don't settle for what is; always have "what could be" in the back of your mind. This doesn't mean, of course, that it's okay to take what you have for granted. It is simply a reminder to stay inspired.

20. Make something prettier than it was.
Paint something, clean something, add flowers, tie a ribbon.

21. Write down a few things that scare you or that you don't understand.
Do a few. Educate yourself.

22. Write down your weaknesses and/or times when you've messed up.
When you get frustrated with someone else, remember this list. 

23. Pick up litter.
"Someone else will get it" is dumb. 

24. Park farther away than you have to.
We could all stand to be a little less lazy.

25. Make your own list of things you want to make more time for.
***
I know "classy" isn't the word most would use to describe my house.  I'm completely aware that I will have to eat my words about Mom's house having stuff everywhere.  I'm fairly certain that if one were to put something down in my house, there's a good chance it could go undiscovered for years.  But...I like that it reminds me of my friends and family. I like that there are books and handmade projects and art all over the place.  I like that, at least to me, it reflects a life well lived.

 

 

 

***

The pizza crust recipe I like to use...

 

***

My flash mob song and another one of my favorite movies...





Maybe my car just didn't want to live in a world without my cowboy boots.

I said that I would drive it until the wheels fell off. 

I said I would keep it, passing down to my mortified kids who, regaled with tales of its storied existence from childbirth to age 16, would then be given the opportunity (i.e. be forced) to drive it to CCHS, kids replete with the same excitement their mother felt when pulling the ceiling-drooping, multi-shades-of-brown Pontiac 6000 into that same parking lot in 1996.

Well, sometimes we eat our words.
...
I said goodbye to the Elantra last week, the car that looked like me; the car with more dog hair, paw prints, and glass nose smudges than most grooming shops; the car that has traveled the Midwest and East Coast with inviting curiosity and surprising reliability; the only car I've ever outright owned; the only car improved by a backseat, gingham snowman sheet; the only car Lucy and Willie have ever known; the only car that continually inspired me to say, "I wish this inanimate object could talk. Oh, the stories it would tell."; the only car that has sat impatiently in Lexington traffic and gotten stuck in the owner's own Marrowbone yard; the bumper-stickered advertisement for sources of inspiration, the mobile reflection of the person I have become.

I am a practical person, however. Although the wheels may have technically still been on it, the sounds it was making would have suggested otherwise. Over the past 2-3 months, I said numerous times, "I really think my car might blow up." That wasn't hyperbole.  I had multiple mechanics check it out; it would be "fixed" for a while, only then to return to its no-heat-at-random-times, increasing-cacophony-of-weird-sounds tricks. It had 194,000 miles...and it was a 2006 model (the legitimate disclaimer offered by every person who tried to work on it). A chunk of vinyl was missing from the steering wheel (my best guess: a dog bit or scratched it and then I picked at it while driving and bored), the driver's side visor stayed in a permanent "down" position, most of the dashboard lights did not work, and a new scratch on the outside, a scratch that inevitably joined a family of paint scrapes and small door dings, only provoked a "huh," if noticed at all. 

As I've told many people over the past seven years, however, this stuff just gave the Elantra "character," becoming the arched doorways, inexplicable light switch, or slightly-bowed hardwood floors of my second home.  The cosmetic stuff didn't bother me; to quite the contrary, I considered it quirks of a good life.  It was the whole "this might blow up at any moment" bit that unnerved me.  I simply came to the conclusion that if I didn't feel comfortable carting my dogs or another person around, if I couldn't jump in the car and confidently travel to Glasgow, much less, Chicago, it was time to let it go. 

And thus, goodbye old friend. 

 

Obama, marathon, Avett Brothers, and Centre stickers

Some of the necessities I pulled out of the console alone. Who doesn't need to carry around lettuce seeds, Euros, Mardi Gras beads, four tire gauges, and random keys? And boy, how many times have you wished you had a stopwatch?

You should've seen the stuff in the trunk.

Ipods just don't tell stories the way CDs do.

I have not sat on bleachers at a Cumberland County sporting event in years.  I'm fairly certain that even then I never offered, "Man, I wish I had a panther-head-embossed cushion."

On the other hand, that tape from 1988 sure has come in handy. 

See Willie in the background?  This was one of my requirements for a new car...Willie needed to be able to ride in the back window....because it makes him happy. 

 

So, what kind of car did I settle on?...

 

A Hyundai Elantra hatchback.:)

We'll continue this saga after another 194,000 miles.

***

I realize my car was no classic fit for restoration, nor a family heirloom in which I taught children to drive. It was important to me though. That's enough.

 

Plus, this song reminds me of Dad. I miss him everyday, but anniversaries are particularly hard (tomorrow marks three years that he has been gone). Songs like this make me smile through the tears.

***
Tell me stories about a car you've loved:)

And my life is but a coin, pulled from an empty pocket.

Earlier this week, a friend posted a link to this April blog post primarily because of the author's wise, wise conclusion that leggings are not pants (as I have adamantly purported since the unfortunate day black leggings, tiny t-shirts, and those furry boots suddenly became trendy).  I immediately laughed and took solace in an actual writer agreeing with me on this most important of social issues. I then continued reading and was struck by how many of the other "25 Things Every Woman Needs to Know" resonated with me.  I have condensed the list to the ones I found most stirring and pertinent.

*You'll be sad to see it go if you live it right. This reminds me of the line "If I live the life I'm given, I won't be scared to die." in the Avett Brothers, Once and Future Carpenter.


*You should resolve to be awesome for the rest of your life.

*Leggings, no matter how much we wish, will never one day magically transform into pants. Exception: Leigh Ann, Isabella, and Danielle can pull this off. The rest of you need to quit trying.

*I hope he buys you flowers...and holds your hands...and takes you to parties if you like to dance. You deserve that. Always. You are worthy beyond words, gal. Seriously, ladies, remember this.


*Your spirit will never benefit from shallow people.

*Gossip is shallow and stupid. Hobbies are better.

*If you make mean comments, and you talk about people behind their back...you MIGHT be the toxic one. Don't forget, we have all been the toxic one at some point in our lives. Don't put yourself on a pedestal. Realize that the more likely you are to be defensive, the more you probably need to look at yourself.

*If you don't like what that is, have the courage to change it. Always realize that you are not stuck and that life does go on.  You can live through anything.

*Regret is a real thing. It's going to happen.

*You are worth so much more than second string in relationships.

*The victim song is never going to fit you.

***

Late Summer/Early Fall Recipes

 

Vegetable Spiral

 

 

Recommend: slice apples and put in baking pan. Top with brown sugar, cinnamon, butter. Put pork chops on top.  Cover with foil. Bake for around 1 hour.

 

Butternut Squash Burritos

Saute thinly-sliced onions in butter and olive oil.  Add butternut squash (already baked) and stir to combine. Remove from skillet and add salt/pepper to taste, cumin, cinnamon, and parsley.

Put a healthy dollop in the center of your tortilla shell, top with cheese, and fold like a burrito.  Crisp in olive oil in skillet.

Recommend: Top with homemade relish! 

***

Piddle Project: Stained Glass Window

Find old window. Clean. Sand and paint color of choice.

Use razor blade to get paint off glass.

Take a cute cat picture.

Find some stained glass paint, decide on a design, and wing it. On one pane, I did the color first, the leading, second and vice versa on the other panes.

Let it dry for days and days.

Hold it in front of natural light and be pretty impressed with your little stained glass set.