I'm not much one for special occasion resolutions. I believe in working to be better every day. So in 2014, I'll continue all of the things I did in 2013: try to increase my patience and generosity, get enough exercise, and get more sleep. Other things will come up as the year moves on, and I'll tackle them in order of appearance.

I was pretty happy to see 2012 go. In 2013 I moved, gained more publications, moved again, reconnected with some old friends, and ended up in a spot I would not have predicted. This has been a tough year, too, but also rewarding and challenging and exciting. Let's see what 2014 has waiting. I'm cautiously optimistic.

In words better than my own

Snark is often conflated with cynicism, which is a troublesome misreading. Snark may speak in cynical terms about a cynical world, but it is not cynicism itself. It is a theory of cynicism.

The practice of cynicism is smarm.

-Tom Scocca

If all goes to plan, the one on the far right will be me in fifty years or so.

(Advanced Style)

Remember that time I forgot I had a blog?

This weekend I drove overnight to take part in the wedding of two of the world's finest people. I tend not to be an overtly emotional person, but weddings get me, especially when it's a couple I've known for the length of their relationship and whom I treasure separately and together.

It's easy, in one's twenties, to be a little cynical. I fall into it often. But once in a while I am reminded of the power of how much two people can love each other, and how they can be bolstered by all the people who care about them, and that's a pretty amazing thing. Congratulations to my amazing friends, who have a beautiful life ahead of them.

I'm in Maine for a few days, by myself. It's so quiet and familiar. As happens every time, I can't quite figure out why I left in the first place.

Conversations

I'm going to a pool party this afternoon and forgot to buy beer yesterday, so today I called my neighborhood wine store to see if they were open.

Me: Oh, hi! I was just wondering what your hours are today.
NLS: Nine to eleven.
Me: (Looking at clock) So if I run in I can still make it?
NLS: Oh, honey! Eleven p.m.! Don't you run anywhere in this heat. You come in nice and leisurely. 

Thanks, Boston. Missed you.

Unemployment = More Cooking

I made a bastardized niçoise for dinner. It's big enough to take over the world. 

Re-entry

It's been a busy time. I had a friend in town, then I went out of town, then I threw a bachelorette party, then I moved across four states. I'm still pretty exhausted, and it will take me a while to settle back in. But tonight I made myself a nice, healthy dinner, opened a beer, and went up to the roof deck to hang out at a rain cloud rolled in. Moving is hard, and adjusting to new circumstances is difficult, but sometimes it's more than worth it.

I have a dear friend coming in a few days for a visit. Stocking up on white wine, diet Coke, and museum tickets.

Don't Buy the Hype

My boyfriend pointed out the other day that one of the brake lights on my car had gone out.

"Great!" I said. "That means I get to learn how to fix it." 

Now, I should have learned this long ago. I was raised by a father who spent much of his time in the garage, tinkering with whichever hand-me-down car we'd most recently inherited. But I was sort of a princessy child, and I didn't spend as much time learning from him as I should have. I know enough about cars to know that most of the time I should leave the tinkering to the professionals. 

While I may not have learned much about mechanics, I did learn from my father that one ought to be able to do most things for oneself. I also learned this from growing up in New England. It's a land full of brazen independents, where reliance on others is seen as weakness. The only things it's really acceptable to call in outside help for are major home renovations and complex surgery. 

So, with this tail light, I saw an opportunity to learn to do something new. I could have taken it to the mechanic and spent $25 to get the bulb replaced, or I could do it my damn self. I broke out the owner's manual to see what it had to say. 

"Light bulbs: head and tail light assemblies are becoming increasingly complex, and it is strongly recommended that you take you vehicle to a registered dealer for service. Your dealer will have the appropriate parts and expertise." 

That's paraphrasing, but the point was clear: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. I had a moment of doubt. If the manual said this was a huge mistake, maybe I was being foolish. One of my worst fears is earning a place in the Darwin Awards, and self-electrocution by brake light seemed a decent bid. But still, the bigger part of me said, "Really? How hard could this possibly be?" 

And you know what? It was the simplest thing I've done in months. I watched a two-minute video on YouTube filmed by some guy with a wicked Boston accent, then went down to the driveway, opened the panel in the trunk, popped out the assembly, changed the lightbulb, and snapped the assembly back in. The most difficult part was getting the old bulb to turn counter-clockwise a quarter of an inch so I could remove it. My car is a Volkswagen old enough to be starting high school, and every single part of it is at least eight times more costly and complicated to fix than on basically anything except a vintage Maybach. This project was five minutes and five dollars, and since the bulbs come in pairs I have an extra for the next time one goes out. 

Screw you, owner's manual. I will absolutely try this at home. 

Things I Need in My Life

Really just the one, but I need it RIGHT NOW:

Prancercise

I won't lie, if I had a private compound this is probably how I would move from one building to another.

Last night I made this BLT chopped salad from How Sweet Eats:

And holy god. That, my friends, is the kind of salad you take home to meet your mother. Make it now. Make it forever.

Summer!

After a stupid-humid day in the mid-80s, night has fallen on Pittsburgh and outside is a very pleasant 78 degrees.

Inside my apartment it is still 92 degrees.

 Send help.

Last night was for a Liberace-themed gay dance party. I love a theme party, and managed to pull together one of the more flamboyant outfits of my life from things I already owned. I'm down a sequined sash this morning, but that's okay. This morning was for yard sale wandering on one of the most beautiful days to hit Pittsburgh this year. It's seventy degrees, sunny, breezy. Perfect. Now I'm going to take a nap, then head to yoga. Keep it up, weekend.

Truth

(observando)

So Many Clothes

This weekend I began transferring my winter clothes to storage (plastic bins that will live in the basement until I move) and my summer clothes to my closet. My conclusion? I have a lot of damn clothes.

This will not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me. I like clothing, I like fashion history, I have a problem with clothing swaps and secondhand stores. What I put on my body is an important part of my life, though obviously not as important as my family and friends and under-educated children and a million other things. But it's fun to figure out what to pair with that skirt I could never quite work before, and the rest of my life feels much more manageable when I don't feel like a neglected Goodwill mannequin.

I'm starting to prepare to move in a little over a month, several states away. Most of my things will be in storage for at least a couple of months. It's coming down to a question of, "Do I like this thing enough to move it three times (into moving truck, into storage unit, into wherever I'll live next)?" A lot of the time the answer is yes. My clothes are part of my personal history, and I will never surrender my grandmother's cocktail dresses, or my box of dresses that are really only good for drunken makeover montages. The impending move is making it easier, though, to finally let go of the things that have never fit me, that are proportioned incorrectly or are in colors that do not suit my skintone. I'm also using it as motivation to give away pieces that do have sentimental value that has become more baggage than anything. For those things I try to find a friend who loves the given piece as much as I do. It's exponentially easier when I know something I've cared about will have a rich life with someone about whom I also care.

Is it silly to think this much about clothing? I don't think so. Things are only things, but most of the things I have are there for a reason. And the important ones will stay with me through twenty more moves.

Friday miscellany

• I have a guest post up over at Traveling Marla! I'm very excited that Marla let me take over her blog for a day, so make sure to check it out. 
• The factory conditions in Bangladesh have been in the news a lot the last few weeks. It is an evolving, unimaginably horrific situation, and I've been struggling to figure out how to look at it, think about it, and do something about it. I'm not having much luck, but I was greatly touched to read this article about a woman who survived for 17 days in the basement of the collapsed factory and was rescued yesterday. A brief ray of hope in the midst of a lot of terrible news. 
• Does anyone know what this plant is? Our best guess is some variety of rhododendron, but the six leaves don't quite fit with that. Boyfriend's hand (and snazzy shoe) included for scale. 

Commitment

There are many things I love about model Coco Rocha, not least of which is that the lady knows how to commit to a theme:

Here is Coco entering the Met Gala last night. The theme this year was "Punk," and a disappointing number of people showed up in flattering, sensible silk tank dresses. Read the invitation, guys.

First half marathon down. The rest of the week is for sleep and ice cream.