EmilyHaHa

New Blog

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 19:27:00 +0000

Dear readers,
As my interests and activities continue to evolve, I hope you'll join me on my journey. Literally! I have a new adventure planned...

emilyhaha.com

Clover in the City

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 17:13:00 +0000

Talk about a throwback: I was having lunch with a local Area Neighborhood Commissioner the other day and politely nodding at lots of the usual local politics. "Mmm-hmm...Yeah, exactly..." I care - I do - but I wasn't really feeling a call to action in any of these sentiments. Then he dropped this on me, "...and he's looking to do something with 4-H."

Get. Out.

The "he" is another neighbor, who's also the county extension officer for UDC and former 4-Her himself. Yours truly? A ten-year 4-H participant. I instantly volunteered to start a club in the neighborhood.

And just like that, I found a new project to occupy the time left open by the end of my part-time job. No more selling expensive clothes to urbanites. Instead, I'm going to be teaching project and life skills to 9-12 year old city kids. Or at least that's my good intention.

This project is just getting off the ground, but if you or anyone you know might be interested in working with kids in the Bloomingdale, DC, neighborhood, and you have particular skills or project areas that they (and you) would enjoy, let me know.

In the meantime, check out the new Beta version of 4-H.org (I think they still have a few kinks to work out) to learn more. Hope to see you at a meeting soon!

All Aboard!

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 15:14:00 +0000

Well there you have it: according to WMATA's website, "Metro General Manager John Catoe has decided to retire and leave the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority after three years as its top manager. His last day will be Friday, April 2." What took so long?

Granted, I wouldn't wish the managing of Metro on my worst enemy (okay, maybe the worst one, but still) - the system is antiquated, underfunded, and chronically denigrated by riders and non-riders alike. Ask the latter group why they don't take public transportation and they'll list any of the above, plus myriad more reasons.

Not that Metro's doing much to combat all that negativity. Type "Metro DC" into the Find People section of Twitter and this is your top hit: unsuckdcmetro. Guess whose side they're on? Let this sample Tweet answer that question for you: "Love the vagaries of WMATA. Reports of one car smelling like hash browns and catsup, another like cat food." A judicious use of 140 characters, no?

Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful that Metro exists. I don't have to own a car in a major metropolitan area due to the availability of a train and bus system that many much larger cities larger would love to have. The Indianapolis Metropolitan Area, for example, counts about 400,000 more residents than does the city of DC.

But since its opening in 1976 (that's opening day below...and those cars look suspiciously familiar), it's been one thing after another. A 1986 editorial by Sam Smith in the Washington Post put it this way: "Metro has failed in its promises to Washington. It has been a financial flop, with construction costs nearly four times the original estimate; it has not met its ridership projections -- carrying tens of millions fewer passengers annually than expected at this point..." And those were the reasonably nice sentiments.

So I'm setting out to get to the bottom of all this. Why do we hate Metro? Is there really no way for it to get better? And how much worse could it be?

Before the end of 2010, I intend to visit every Metro Rail Station in the system and ride as many bus lines as I can possibly manage to hop on board. I want to figure out what works and what doesn't by getting first-hand experience. This adventure is un-scientific, but I think it might offer some illumination into this system that people love to hate.

More info coming soon!

Blogger, or Wordpress?

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 21:43:00 +0000

I went and changed up the settings again. Just can't find a look that I like, I guess. But what can I say? I'm thinking of dumping Blogger altogether. Using Wordpress for work is waaaaaay better. But at least this way I can use my Google login.

Blargh.

Make it easy or make it over? Can't decide just yet. Either way, I've reserved emilyhaha.wordpress.com - kinda has a nice ring to it.

Keep Calm and Carry On

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 18:59:00 +0000

If you follow any kind of design or culture blog practically anywhere, you've probably come across the slogan above in the past few months. Due to an intrepid entrepreneur, what was originally designed as a message from the British Government to citizens during World War II (although it was never publicly used much) is now plastered on everything from chocolate bars to tea towels. Awesome! Just what I want: a historically insignificant image printed on my sweets and sweats. Pass.

That was my opinion, until...I got the latest CB2 catalog yesterday. (Please don't ever let them open an actual store in DC - I'd want to live there!) Casually flipping through I saw the usual mix of bright colors and plexiglass and then, well, dang it, I saw the most fabulous rug. It's in orange, my signature decorating color, imprinted with an image in gray, my second favorite color. And guess what it says?

You guessed correctly. And now I really, really, really want this for my apartment. But I shall resist, for my wallet will thank me later. In the meantime, I guess I'll just keep calm and...well, you know the rest.

Twenty Ten: The Year of "No"

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 17:30:00 +0000

Wow! Sounds like we're off to a really positive start for this new year, eh? Actually, saying "no" is gonna make things a lot better than you might initially think.

Here's the deal. Starting tomorrow, I will no longer have a part-time job (nothing negative, the boutique's just moving to the Meatpacking District) and there will have a lot more free time on my hands. And when I get asked to do things I don't want to do (spend money on a not-so-great dinner, spend time with college friends I was never really that close to in the first place, read fiction), I'm going to nicely and politely - but firmly - say these two words: "No thanks."

You see, turning thirty and whatnot has made me realize the importance of being in control of my own time and activities. I may not have a ton of money, a jet-setting lifestyle, or even a decent-sized apartment, but I do have the luxury of choosing what I want to do, when I want to do it.

Even better, I'm going to employ this spectacular new tactic at the office. Now, certainly, when the bossman (or woman, but not in my case) asks me to do something that's already part of the ol' list o' tasks, then of course I'll do it. But before I'm thrown into another wild and wacky, time-wasting project that a co-worker has dreamed up, I'm going to have to take a hard look at how it affects my job performance and the organization as a whole. And in those cases - with my bosses' blessings - I'll say "No."

You see, I'm tired of spending my time doing a lot of things that are not in furtherance of the mission of the organization for which I work. I need to feel that I'm contributing in a meaningful way just about all the dang time. If I didn't, I'd go work at a for-profit business and just do...well, whatever it is people do at those places. But times are tight and talent is plentiful, and if I don't strive to use all my resources in the best manner possible, then I'm being disingenuous to both myself and the people we serve. And that's not cool.

You've been warned: get ready to hear the word "no" out of my mouth a lot more this year. But, because I believe that this new exercise in self-monitoring will result in a more judicious use of my time, I plan on saying "yes" to a lot more things, too. Yes to new ideas, yes to professional development, yes to spending time with great friends, and yes to working on building a better body and mind.

You see? It's not all so negative now, is it?

It's Not Too Late...

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 18:51:00 +0000

...to buy me a gift from my very special Conspicuous Consumption Christmas list! No, really: New Year's gifts are perfectly acceptable. I promise.

Unfortunately, over the break, my usual cat-sitter was unable to stop by by apartment, unbeknownst to me. In a panic of my widdle kittehs, I rushed home, only to find both H & P well fed and watered. But how did they do it?

I'll tell you how. They opened the kitchen cabinets, removed their cat food container, tore the lid off, and ate straight out of the Tupperware. Well, isn't that resourceful?

And very messy. Which is why really, really, really, want a Kartell Componibili set for my place. I could close the door on the kittehs and stash the cabinet somewhere out of the way. And even if they did have to open it, they could just slide the door over, not tear one from its hinges.

I'll admit the silver is pretty sweet, and the red is ravishing, but I'd prefer one in black, both for simplicity and price sake. They're not that expensive. Relatively speaking, that is. The three-door version comes in at $160 (free shipping!) and it goes down from there.

Designed by Anna Castelli Ferrieri in 1969, I think they have the perfect mid-century modern look. And they're compact enough for small spaces. And - I think - ABS molded plastic should prove a bit more of a deterrent for the kittehs. Maybe.

A Twistah! A Twistah!

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 00:59:00 +0000

Or, more accurately, a snowstorm guaranteed to make Chicagoans chuckle and upstate New Yorkers el-oh-el. But whaddyagonnado? It's snowing in DC, kids!

Wait. Not yet. But that hasn't stopped Mayor Fenty from issuing a ~~premature~~ Snow Emergency starting at 7am tomorrow morning.

Have I stocked up on essentials? If gossip magazines and catnip count as "essentials," then the answer is yes. I have plenty of both.

As for sustenance, I figure I can forage through my backyard until the storm blows over - you know - like, Sunday morning.

Just so I don't seem all glib about this, I've gone ahead and started following the #dcsnowpocalypse hashtag on Twitter. You'll see the corresponding widget at right. I encourage you to hunker down and get serious about this, too...

Pretty Shiny Things (That I Own)

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 18:45:00 +0000

Read an interesting article in yesterday's NY Times about a reporter who rented her holiday dresses. Services like that are popping up all over, with everything from a clutch to couture being available for a finite time with a little outlay of cash. The writer came to the conclusion that she did, indeed, like renting a different dress for each occasion, but she still didn't make a very compelling case for renting versus buying. Personally, I'd rather add a festive piece or two each year to augment my existing wardrobe.

Which brings me to today's Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day, a Belted Sequin Cardigan from Robert Rodriguez. There's just something about sequins that screams "festive!" And the dark green color is just right for Christmas. I'd pair with pants, belt it over a dress, or use it with other monochromatic separates to spice up an after-work look.

Rodriguez' stuff don't come cheap, and even at 30% off this cardigan clocks in at $238. But let's put it this way: that NY Times reporter got three outfits for about $75 each, or a total of $225. For just a little more, I could have one versatile piece that doesn't have to go into a padded envelope at the end of the night. I think I'd choose the latter...

Joy to the World, It's Porcelain

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 19:27:00 +0000

I'm not much for holiday decorating. Plop a neon pink plastic Christmas tree next to the Russ Santa Troll and call it a day, in my book. Oh, and don't forget the glitter be-decked mini stocking for...my cat. You know, for when Santa Claws shows up.

Rarely am I excited by much in the holiday vein, probably because it would ruin the aesthetic of my apartment, and also because I have a hard time spending good money on something that will only be around for a few weeks.

I would gladly make an exception, though, for the Nativity Scene in porcelain by Massimo Giacon for Alessi. Look at that fun, happy little family! Throw in a donkey (?) and a...something else and voila! It's the perfect little mod Christmas decoration. At $92, it's a bit steep for a temporary decoration, but I Alessi stuff is made to last, so it might very well be the last manger scene I need.

Therefore, consider it officially added to my ever-growing, semi-fabulous Conspicuous Consumption Christmas list. The porcelain Baby Jesus approves.

Time Flies...Sorta

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 16:34:00 +0000

Is there no end to my insatiable search for cool stuff in my apartment? I think not. When you have a space as small as mine (maybe 600 sq ft?), every inch is precious, every nook and cranny an opportunity to DO something interesting, every unused piece of wall just a nail away from being a miniature art gallery. I love interesting objects; even more than that I love well-designed interesting objects. Something can't just be "cute" or "fun" - it had better serve a higher purpose in furthering my attempts to curate a livable, aesthetically pleasing place in which to dwell.

This lifestyle does not come cheap. I could probably have a down payment on a house for all the Swedish stoneware and steel, mid-century modern seating, and candelabras (7 and counting) I collect. But I'm okay with that. And sometimes something comes along that I HAVE TO HAVE. Like, no discussion needed. Even if that item is technically still a prototype and available for purchase exactly nowhere.

As in the Switchital clock by Pugin Design. Check this: the numbers are comprised of magnetic bars that - like the mustachioed bald guy in the plastic and cardboard toy we all had as kids - magically move with the use of magnetic pull behind the scenes. The minutes move, literally, before your very eyes. I can't. Stop. Watching. Seriously, if I had this clock on my desk or next to my bed, I'd never get anything done, nor would I fall asleep. How could you miss a single minute going by?!

Unfortunately, this clock is still in the design phase, so adding it to my very special Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day list is quite impossible. But a girl can dream. That is, if she's not constantly watching the clock.

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 20:01:00 +0000

"Hiya do, Miss Lady" - a simple greeting, given by a simply dressed older man, on my humdrum daily commute from my house to the bus stop, five blocks away. It's pretty basic: I say hi to my neighbors, they reciprocate. Well, unless they're white.

I'm not conducting anything along the signs of a scientific experiment, mind you, just relying on a 2 1/2 year body of empirical evidence. Whose house have I been invited to? Who greets me from their stoop? Who says hello in the corner bodega? Who makes eye contact at the bus stop? The neighbors that are people of color, that's who. Almost without fail.

So what? Who cares? Well, I think this behavior gets to a larger conversation about what it means when a neighborhood "gentrifies" (a term I'm not totally confident in using about my 'hood, which saw it's share of tough times but was never a bad place to live) and new people - white, wealthier, younger - invade what were often traditionally Black or Hispanic neighborhoods. You see it happen in DC all the time, and we're not the exception. Harlem in New York, Pilsen in Chicago - both have experienced similar "white in-flight" and the concomitant neighborly attitudes that go with that.

I don't know how to force people to greet one another on the sidewalk. And after being ignored multiple times by any particular person, I just give up. I will continue to work to build stronger relationships with those neighbors who are friendly and who do respond to a simple "hello." And let's be honest - I'm smack in the middle of the demographic I'm talking about: young, white, relative newcomer to the 'hood. So the least I can try to do is set a good example for my incommunicado brethren.

Is it so hard to say "hi"? For some, I guess so.

Cat-Woman

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 16:14:00 +0000

Yes, I have two cats. Yes, I live alone in a basement. No, I'm not like the crazy cat lady on the Simpson's, although I find her to be quite amusing when she makes an appearance. That being said, I get no end of grief when it comes to matters feline.

So what if the only picture on my desk is of Harry (male tabby) and that he has a custom Christmas sock? How else will Santa Paws deliver his kitteh treats?

So, despite, the obvious insults that could be hurled my way, I occasionally find a cat-themed item to be quite adorable. I just received my United Bamboo Cat Calendar in the mail and it's fabulous. And who could deny the cuteness of this Marc by Marc Jacobs Paisley Cat Tote? Only a cold-hearted unfeeling cat-hater, that's who.

And it's really only a cat in the abstract, right? Nobody *really* has a pink and purple and orange cat. So it's stylized and therefore sartorially acceptable, in my humble opinion. And at $90 (marked down from $128), it's a veritable bargain by Marc Jacobs standards. So I'll happily make it to my very special Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day. Mee-yow!

Snow Makes Me Want Boots

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 17:00:00 +0000

What started out this morning as a drizzly rain has evolved into blanketing confection of fluffy snow here in the nation's capital. Snow here is not that common; snow that actually accumulates on cars and sidewalks is even more unusual. And I have to say that today my Converse Chucks just ain't working for me.

I need boots. More specifically, I need more cute boots that will both protect my feet and project my fashion sense in one tidy - preferably leather - package. Therefore today's very special Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day is the Dolce Vita Kent Boot in Dark Yellow. (Really? Dark yellow? Not light brown? Really?) I like this color in particular because it tends to age well the more you wear it, especially in snow, for example. I'm definitely digging the worn in look this season.

And yes - I know - the boots are open on the side. But so much the better for showing off some cute patterned socks! (Try this pair from Urban.) I could see pairing with tights, too, so the buckles can receive their full appreciation. The boots are $179 but 25% off today, which might be just enough to get me to click "Purchase" today. Oh! And I forgot to mention that they're from a website that specialized in size 10 and up for women. How cool is that?

Score!

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:00:00 +0000

Just found out one of my favorite killing-time-when-I-should-be-working websites now has an eCommerce site. For those of us who came of age in the 1980's, awkward elementary school photos with unfortunate hairstyles were a rite of passage. So how great is it to wallow in the misery of other similar individuals online?

Awkward Family Photos allows me to do just that. I literally el-oh-el at images like the one at right, in which a (I think) Polish couple lovingly illustrates the age-old tradition of...the apple-ring exchange? A quick Google search (is there any other kind?) yields no results for "Polish wedding apple," so I can only assume with awkwardness is self inflicted.

The best part? Through the magic of Zazzle, I can now get this very image on a coffee mug or t-shirt of my choosing! Most excellent. Behold today's very special Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day.

I think I should wish to place "Agnieszka i Daniel" on a brown women's tee, just 'cause I believe the dark color would offset the apple's vibrant, dewy skin juuuuust right.

Also, I'm really craving a Jonagold right now. Just sayin'.

Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 16:49:00 +0000

December's just flying along, dear readers!! For today's very special Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day comes to you courtesy of one of the fiveteen bazillion daily emails I receive with "special" "insider" "deals" that only I and most women with computers I know are able to access.

I'm a huge fan of Frye, though, even if their size 11 is just right (wish they ran a tad bigger) for tights-clad feet. And I'm a sucker for shoes in rich colors, like this vibrant navy Matilda Boot. This pair is available in my size, however, only in black, but no worries! I'd get them anyway just because they remind me of one of my first and most beloved pair of boots, a spat-style leather and suede ankle-high version that were WAY before their time. (You laughed then, junior high colleagues, but who was fashion forward in retrospect, huh? That's what I thought.)

The narrow toe box and curved heel are elegant and ladylike, but the stud accent along the calf gives these an edge. Love it! Again, I've happened to stumble across an item on sale, this time marked down to $313.60 from $448.00, a saving of 30%. Not too shabby for Frye's, which are hard to score at a discount, especially the cool ones. Hmm...should I go for 'em?

New Look! New Feel! New Kids on the Block!

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 15:12:00 +0000

Sike! Joey, et. al. aren't here, but "EmilyHaHa" is taking a new direction. Enough about me...what about me? Seriously, though, I've been wanting to have more fun while simultaneously getting a little "deep" on the topics of the times. That means a bigger mix of posts and topics from fashion to fascism, architecture to archaeology, pop culture to politics, and everything in between.

We'll kick things off accordingly with my "Conspicuous Consumption Christmas Item of the Day," where in I show you something fantastic that will in no way be purchased for me or by me. But we can all enjoy pretty things, right?

Case in point, Phillip Lim 3.1's Lace Detailed Leather Gloves which are on sale. Awesome. What once was $325 is now $195. Oh. Wait. They've literally become "no longer available" in the time that it's taken me to write this post. Curses! And here I was, all ready to extol their Chanel-like virtues for a fraction of the cost. I guess kidskin and silk linings are too, too, too much to resist this holiday season. Day one is off to a great start...

Numbers Game

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 23:49:00 +0000

As you've no doubt heard, those pesky doctors and health experts on TV and in magazines are always saying that losing even 5% of your body weight can have positive effects. And to that I said, "Riiiight. Five percent? I wouldn't even notice that!"

But then a funny thing happened: I noticed my pants were loose. Like, furreal loose. Highly skeptical and thinking that maybe I'd just been setting the dryer on a lower setting and/or some Lycra somewhere wasn't keeping its shape any longer, I paid no mind for a few days. But then another pair of pants were really loose, like, slip-them-off-without-un-bottoning loose. So I took a brutally painful, but ultimately necessary step...right on to the scale.

Yes, I have a scale. You know, because, in theory, I weight myself every week to track my "progress" on my "weight loss plan" without the use of any irony or "finger quotes." But in reality the thing had been amassing cat-hair dust bunnies and - some days - real cats, for lack of any real utility in my bathroom. A little dust-off and calibration of the settings (no since getting all excited if the thing was off by 5 pounds)...and...gingerly step on.

Half open one eye, lest I get to excited...and...whoa! That can't be right.

Adjust glasses...and...it is right! I did it! I lost 5% of my body weight. And I had noticed as much in the looseness of my pants. Hmm...perhaps these docs are right after all. It only takes a little to start seeing big difference. And it just gets you motivated to keep moving forward. Ten percent of body weight gone...here I come!

Downward Spiral...er, Dog, I mean

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 16:40:00 +0000

Hunching over my desk last Friday, I couldn't take it any more. My shoulders were burning, my neck was stiff, and my upper back felt like it was petrifying. Sure, I just turned 30, but does that mean I have to turn into a cubicle-dwelling desk troll, permanently wearing the scars of my slavish devotion to a computing machine? Surely not.

I did what any normal out-of-shape person would do in this situation: I let somebody else do the work for me, opting for a quick 15 minute chair massage. Although I felt better afterward, I realized I had just dropped $20 bucks (including the tip) for a quick fix. For that same amount of money, I could engage in two sessions' worth of something I haven't done in ages: yoga.

I'll admit: I was a scrawny, skeptical Midwestern gal when I first gave the "New Age-y" concept of yoga the old college try - literally - when I was an undergrad. And I got hooked, for years. At one point, in fact, I could do inversions and headstands with the greatest of ease.

My favorite instructor was a uber-petite Asian gal who was literally half my size. Yet I'll never forget when she caught and held me during my first back bend. Her small frame was strong and powerful and I wanted that, too. Well, except for the small frame part. That had already been sorta predetermined by genetics.

I practiced yoga for years, probably nearly a decade, and then - like so many other things that we know are good for us but fall by the wayside - I just up and stopped. The cool thing about yoga, though, is that is stays in your muscle memory for a loooong time. To this day I can flop over and touch my toes with zero effort. Cool, right?

So in keeping with my generally feeble attempts at physical self improvement, I'm going to start taking beginning yoga classes again. I must humble myself before the asanas and realize that I'm no longer the limber 20-something I once was. Nor will I ever be a "yoga champion" like Kyoko Katsura, above, who recently won the women’s division of the first New York Regional Yoga Championship.

But... This Sunday shall mark my triumphant return to the yoga studio. And the peasant's rejoice! Or - at the very least - I won't make a fool of myself. I think a hour or two on the mat each week will probably keep me out of the chair; the massage therapist's chair, that is. My careful (read: quick) cost benefit analysis confirms this. So does my back, which is already starting to ache again.

You've Been Outbid: Vintage Orange Plastic Caddy

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 19:41:00 +0000

The rumors are true: I like used things. You know, "not new." As in pre-worn, pre-loved, scratch 'n' dent, floor model, et. al. There's just something cool about acquiring a piece that I know a thousand other people aren't ordering out of the same catalog.

This, in turn, has led to me becoming an eBay dork of sorts. As in, I troll eBay quasi-obsessively for that perfect mid-century modern tchotchke that I can't possibly live without. Now of course I *can* live without it (600 sq ft apartment, 2 cats, 300+ books - you can do the math), but there's no harm putting a single bid on something, is there?

That's why I'm starting a new feature on this bloggety-blog: You've Been Outbid. Every week, or more often as the spirit moves me, I'll place a single bid on an eBay item I think I need...and leave it at that. No upping my minimum, no obsessively checking the auction as the last two minutes dwindle. Just one bid. And crossed fingers. Let's see how I do, shall we?

Up first is this humdinger of a vintage party tray, in my accent color of choice, safety orange. "Hey - you don't even entertain!" I heard you, dear reader, really I do. But if I had this tray, I must just invite some people over, non? I think so. And at $15.99 plus shipping, I'd be doing quite well in the outlay of cash department, too. Four days and five hours to go...

P.S. - One last thing. For those of you with equally exquisite taste as moi, worry not that I'll hunt you down if you consistently outbid me on these items. There are enough beautiful things to go around...

She Works Hard for the Money

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 00:40:00 +0000

Most of the time I do - work hard that is. Let's face it, I got my first full-time job at 18 and haven't looked back since. There's something about clocking hours at work that's really nice. And not just because of the paycheck. Thinking back over the last twelve years, I'm hard pressed to think of what I did with a free weekend at my disposal. Even when I left the world of waiting tables for a nine-to-five gig what have I always done? Picked up a part time job.

These days I'll often log an additional 12-15 hours a week outside of my regular work week. And I don't mind in the least. The part-time work certainly isn't about the paycheck. Considering I've worked at various boutiques, bakeries, and bars, the "spare" change rarely makes it out the door with me. I have the wares and waistline to prove it. I find meaning and pleasure in working, simple as that.

I'm always floored, then, when I have a rare weekday to myself in which I may or may not roam aimlessly around the Capital City and see so many people not working. Who has time to go for a jog at 10:30 on a Tuesday? Who's drinking a bottle of wine with lunch at 2 in the afternoon? Why is that person hanging out reading a book in a park, for pete's sake! Do these people not have jobs?

No, seriously. Visit any major city and there are a bazillion folks just chillin'. Now granted, if they have a Macbook and a latte, they're probably currently unemployed. But that leaves a lot of others unaccounted for. Let's exclude the independently wealthy and retired...there are still a ton of people with the time and money to do, well, nothing. What are their stories? How did they manage to escape the rat race? Don't they have rent to pay?

In the last month alone I've had three friends who've left perfectly halfway decent (natch) jobs to pursue unpaid adventures both here and abroad. They ditched their stuff, packed their bags, and took off to the mountains or the valleys or - even scarier - Congress. And these folks are my age, with previous full-time employment. How do they do it? Maybe it's because I can't go a minute without health insurance, or the fact that saving for a rainy day isn't exactly my forte, but I cannot imagine what I'd do with my time if not for work, and lots of it.

I think Cartman says it best...

Dist-sub-urbia

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 17:14:00 +0000

Every six weeks or so, I step far outside of my comfort zone, to a place that's weird and foreign. I grab a Zipcar for a couple of hours and drive to the scariest place I can think of: the suburbs.

Now, before you roll your eyes and accusing me of using hyperbole for effect (who, me? never!), let me acknowledge that I spent the first 18 years of my life smack dab in the middle of the most suburban place you can imagine. Nice brick houses with nice lawns. Two cars in every garage. Strip malls and shopping malls and "big box" stores abounding. Chain restaurants. The whole nine yards.

But...

I went to college, lived in the city, and never really turned back.

Every great now again, however, I get a deep yearning for my giant-parking-lot-having, car-with-kid-safety-seat-driving, lightwash-jeans-and-white-tennis-shoes wearing suburban brethren. Why? Well, goshdarnit, even I'll concede there are some things that are just downright convenient, like buying an entire case of moist cat food, instead of dragging back one or two at a time from the corner bodega.

And who can resist the deep-friend temptation of the occasional dalliance with a restaurant where the only way you know your table is ready is the buzzing, red light winsomeness of a plastic pager in your hand?

Most amazing to me is that you can shop with coupons at clothing stores. I'd almost forgotten about such conveniences. Oh! And layaway! Brilliant concept that's all but completely ignored in urban areas. Sorry, but I'll always have fond memories of the anticipation for items in layaway. Hold on, Barbie Dream House...we're almost there!

As fun as these minor excursions and fleeting memories are, though, I truly feel like a stranger in a strange land. I alight to chain stores in my rented-for-the-hour hybrid, Paddington handbag tucked under my arm, and proceed to look only for things marked "organic" as I troll the grocery aisles for my favorite vegetarian items. What a jerk!

It's true: I don't belong. Things feel kinda familiar for just a bit, but I quickly remember why I've long since left behind the world of subdivisions and drive-throughs. It's just not me. These aren't my people. And as I park the Zipcar back in its lot and bike home to my tiny urban dwelling, I feel a sense of peace and calm. My own little slice of perfect existence.

Hold Me Closer, Not-So-Tiny Dancer

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 14:53:00 +0000

At some point during the last month, I decided to make some changes. As many of you know, I recently turned 30 and, well, I didn't want to be the frumpy 30-something career gal who stays home with her cats all the time. (NO comments from the peanut gallery on that one!)

Instead, I wanted to be the person I'd always thought I'd be as I got older: poised, put together, purposeful. And not least of all, curious enough to learn new things whenever such opportunities presented themselves.

Which lead me to make a few changes. Contacts and a haircut topped the list right off the bat. Having not revealed my eyes outside of thick-ish lenses for nearly half a decade, applying mascara and eye liner was quite a jolt to me and, apparently, to all I came in contact with. "Wow! Your eyes are gorgeous!" I hadn't heard that in ages and I'm not too proud to say it felt nice to receive vanity-based compliments.

More long-term goals emerged:

Create an apartment worthy of a magazine, yet not so cozy that I never want to leave. (You can view my ongoing attempts here.)
Reconnect with some people form my past who I parted on not ideal terms. Somehow, as adults, the petty squabbles of the past seem irrelevant and even silly.
Do something that takes me so far freakin' out of my comfort zone that I'm forced to change my being not only mentally, but physically.

It is this last goal that found me standing in front of a full-wall mirror, ballet-shoes on my feet (size 14, natch) - a barre under my right palm - with11 other sweaty, slightly clumsy adult in a beginning dance class. Now mind you, I never had designs on being a ballerina as a child. I was more interested in stuffing my little sister into a hand-made cradle so as to recount the litany of diseases this poor, destitute child (in my imagination, anyway) was going to succumb. She was a brave little patient, to boot.

My single attempt at "dancing" came at the ripe at of four, when I was politely encouraged to pursue a hobby in playing music, not moving to it. Even a semi-positive foray into folk dancing during elementary school (Tarentella, anyone?) only further my resolved to be in the band.

So what leads a perfectly sane adult to stand in form-fitting clothes and ill-fitting slippers (I finally figured out how to tie them afterward...of course) in front of a very unforgiving mirror and harsh lighting on a rainy night in October? A sense of adventure, I guess. And a deeply misguided belief that I, too, might someday execute a Fouetté rond de jambe en tournant with the greatest of ease. Whatever that means.

On this night, however, I was happy to just to be able to "tondu" from first to second. And not fall over in the process. In fact, I was quite happy with the progression of the first class. The instructor was not rail-thin (thank goodness!), she had a wonderful sense of humor (apparently my suggestion that learning jumps would only take about 20 minutes was a "good" ballet jokes), and the class as a whole -if not totally able to conquer the sautée on the first try - earnestly embraced every new term and step as if we were new immigrants memorizing the answers to the citizenship test. The French citizenship test, that is.

I'm kinda hooked now. Moving like this felt good! The next day I had muscles screaming that I hadn't felt since a misstep in high school plyometrics rendered me nearly unable to drag myself up the stairs without both hands on the rail. Indeed, the endorphine rush continues; I'm fully confident that within a month or two, I'll be showing off my prowess like a white girl version of Gregory Hines and Mikhail Baryshnikov in White Knights. And on that note, here's a preview of my next moves. Watch closely: you might just experience that perfect Fouetté rond de jambe en tournant after all.

Duh! Why Haven't I Posted This Sooner?

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 19:59:00 +0000

In the very, very off chance that any of my dear readers are interested in investing a pittance in my forthcoming participation in the Marine Corps Marathon 10K on October 25th, I provide for your donating delight the following link:

http://www.active.com/donate/teamuso/emilyhaha

Feel free to spare any $5 you might have laying around. Or, if you wish to incur my undying gratitude and a reasonable tax deduction at the end of the fiscal year, for for the whole $250.

I - and the USO - thank you.

Día de la Resistencia Indígena

noreply@blogger.com (EmilyHaHa) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 00:42:00 +0000

Yep, I like the sound of that better: Día de la Resistencia Indígena, or Day of Indigenous Resistance, which is the term Venezuelans use for our Anglo-centric celebration of "Columbus Day." Now I'm not ganna get all PC on ya here. In fact, I fully believe that if members of First Nations want to license their tribal names out to college football teams and open up a casino on every reservation, they should be able to do so. Heck, the least we owe them is a slice of the capitalist dream.

More interesting to me, though, is a continuing fascination with travel to "exotic" locations over 500 years after Columbus first set foot on foreign soil. There's something about getting away from what we know that continues to fuel human travel, and the travel industry. This might sound odd coming from a person with no passport, who immediately recycles the Travel section in every Sunday New York Times, and whose idea of travel begins and ends with a day trip to Manhattan. I'm not saying I understand this desire to travel, but I acknowledge that it's there. These days, if you haven't solo climbed the Himalayas, backpacked through the former Eastern Bloc, or snorkeled off the coast of Costa Rica, you haven't really lived. Well guess what? I'm living just fine without any of these things.

Why don't I like to travel? I think in large part I'm afraid that what's on the other side of the journey simply won't live up to expectations, won't be "other" or "exotic" enough. David Sedaris writes, "I thought back to the previous summer, and my twenty-three-hour flight from London to Sydney... spend that much time on a plane and you’re entitled to a whole new world when you step off at the other end—the planet Mercury, say, or, at the very least, Mexico City. For an American, though, Australia seems pretty familiar: same wide streets, same office towers. It’s Canada in a thong, or that’s the initial impression." That's not the moral of the larger story he's telling, but I found it to be one of the most astute observations in the essay. As least as it pertains to my life.

I didn't ride an airplane until I was 19, and even then it was by accident. A freak snow storm had closed off all train travel in and out of Chicago, and driving back to college was equally impossible. The only alternative? A 27 minute flight to Midway Airport. Alone. Oh well - there's a first time for everything. I can't even remember the flight, it was so uneventful. And on the other end was a cold, tiny dorm room and mounds of icy snow. Meh.

So even if it's not all about the destination, at least the journey should yield something meaningful, right? I've travelled more extensively by train than any other form of transportation. And having covered 2/3 of the distance across the US in an Amtrak Coach Car, I can say again...meh. Maybe it's because train tracks tend to snake like tendrils throughout the less desirable vistas of small towns and big cities alike. Have you ever wanted to catalogue the back sides of used tire lots, the broken windows on abandoned warehouses, AND the rotting wood ghosts of train stations past? Then Amtrak it is! Sorry if I sound so cynical, but unless there's a sightseeing car and you hit that perfect spot of daylight while traversing mountains or something, it just ain't that grand.

So, if given my druthers on a holiday like today, I choose to stay home. Alone. And I think there's nothing wrong with that. I'll be celebrating with my own form of resistance, thank you very much.