As 2015 rolls to a close (draws? stumbles? frolics?), I am thrilled to announce that, should I finish Mary Barton, I will have made it to 100 books. Ah, I amaze myself. Clearly this is seriously an eleventh hour finish, but still, it's a finish (maybe, if I get moving).
Moreover, we are approaching a pretty significant milestone. I'll be at 738 in two days (boy, I better be; why am I writing this and not reading Mary Barton RIGHT NOW?), which means that I'm about a month away from 750, the 3/4ths mark of the project. If this was a run, I'd have about equal distance from the furthest point out and the finish (if this was a run out and back, which it is in my head, and it's my project, so....). This feels so....... anti-climatic.
Maybe this is because I'm not there yet, but I suspect it reflects a general project ambivalence, project ennui if you will. I was re-reading my justification post recently (instead of Mary Barton, what is wrong with me?), and it's really worked. I've read so many books I wouldn't have read otherwise. I've fallen in love with so many of them, I've broadened my reading comfort zone (I was reading The Temple of My Familiar the other day, and it just felt so comfortable, magical realism, odd structure, etc., it all feels like home anymore), I understand the evolution of the novel better/I see novels as this huge and complex conversation, and I've now read most of the "biggies" that came out before ~2005.
And yet.....
Most of the list books are by white, heterosexual, middle to upper class men. Coming to this project because of Toni Morrison and Arundhati Roy is rather ironic. It is less the homogeneity of these authors, and more just their privilege and consequential narrow mindedness that starts to deeply grate. This comes up with race in absolutely horrific ways, though most often in a deep absence of non-white experiences. Gender, though, is what speaks most directly to me, and sometimes speaks to me in the most traumatic of ways (dear white men, why is it so hard to view others as full, real people whom you are so very capable of hurting?). Actually, just read this piece, she does a better job of explaining what I mean (yes, I realize I should have been reading Mary Barton instead).
I was so naive when I started this project. I had never read anything by Philip Roth, and I just didn't know what I was in for. I don't regret the project or the books I've read, but it's been more of an awakening than I had expected, and it does leave me feeling a bit sad.
That said, it's still a significant milestone, and I hope to have more of a 250 attitude than a 500 attitude.
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
I don't know how anybody survives in this life without someone like you
Circus engagement photos. Photo credit to Sarah Hluchan; choreography credit to William Reiff.
Friday, November 6, 2015
And true/I tend to follow in his stride/Instead of side by side I take his cue
November is a funny time to be thinking about street harassment. Normally by this time of the year, I'm shrouded in so many layers and rushing so quickly from building to building in an attempt to note freeze to death, that I get basically zero attention on the street. This November, has been unseasonally warm. While warm weather in November is generally lovely, albeit alarming given global warming, it does have unfortunate side effects.
I tend to judge cities based on the amount of street harassment I experience there (Geneva, you are lovely; San Francisco, you are not). It shapes and colors who I am in the world in ways that I hate. The price you pay for being a woman in public grates on you.
Relatively recently I started flying again, after being out with a hip injury. Usually Drew and I fly together, which cuts harassment to zero (which I appreciate even as it infuriates me). One class a few weeks ago, though, Drew didn't fly, so I was going home on my own. I fly in booty shorts and fishnets, which I suppose comes across as sexier than I mean. I fly in these cloths because I like them, though, not for the male gaze or whatever. I like elaborate patterns on tights, I like how they are grippy on board and make me feel safer, I like how they make me feel like I'm dancing in the air, I like how they make me feel like a real flyer.
During this particular class, I brought back misses (turning to the net), my takeoffs felt good, I caught legs off of the THIRD RISE without fear. Flying is scary for me, flying is intense personally growth work. One of my current projects is literally getting more confident in my abilities, since one of my main coaches decided that's one of my main challenges as a flyer. I dig so deep as a flyer, and it's so empowering and overwhelming. After being out with painful, boring, time-consuming, expensive PT, flying feels like even more of a triumph especially when it's a great class. So, I was still flying high after this class. It was warm out, I put on my knee-high fake leather boots and a wrap, and walked to the metro.
And I got so much crap. One guy asked for my number, got angry when I wouldn't give it, followed me to the metro station, and only left me alone after I entered the system. Yes, I get it, booty shorts, fishnets, boots, but why can't I dress how I want? Why do men assume a right to comment on my body, to police my presence in a public space because I'm wearing something that has nothing to do with them?
Street harassment robs women of so much. Our ability to feel safe in public, to go where we need to go when we need to without fear. Of money (the cabs I take to avoid being out after dark alone). Of basic humanness and politeness. I don't respond sometimes when people are just saying hello or being friendly, because if I respond to the wrong person who isn't just being friendly, it's so much worse. I try not to feel my moods in public, since when I'm happy or smiling to myself, it can be so much worse. I second guess what I wear, even though it often doesn't matter.
I don't have any conclusion to this. I just feel like venting and being sad about it.
I tend to judge cities based on the amount of street harassment I experience there (Geneva, you are lovely; San Francisco, you are not). It shapes and colors who I am in the world in ways that I hate. The price you pay for being a woman in public grates on you.
Relatively recently I started flying again, after being out with a hip injury. Usually Drew and I fly together, which cuts harassment to zero (which I appreciate even as it infuriates me). One class a few weeks ago, though, Drew didn't fly, so I was going home on my own. I fly in booty shorts and fishnets, which I suppose comes across as sexier than I mean. I fly in these cloths because I like them, though, not for the male gaze or whatever. I like elaborate patterns on tights, I like how they are grippy on board and make me feel safer, I like how they make me feel like I'm dancing in the air, I like how they make me feel like a real flyer.
During this particular class, I brought back misses (turning to the net), my takeoffs felt good, I caught legs off of the THIRD RISE without fear. Flying is scary for me, flying is intense personally growth work. One of my current projects is literally getting more confident in my abilities, since one of my main coaches decided that's one of my main challenges as a flyer. I dig so deep as a flyer, and it's so empowering and overwhelming. After being out with painful, boring, time-consuming, expensive PT, flying feels like even more of a triumph especially when it's a great class. So, I was still flying high after this class. It was warm out, I put on my knee-high fake leather boots and a wrap, and walked to the metro.
And I got so much crap. One guy asked for my number, got angry when I wouldn't give it, followed me to the metro station, and only left me alone after I entered the system. Yes, I get it, booty shorts, fishnets, boots, but why can't I dress how I want? Why do men assume a right to comment on my body, to police my presence in a public space because I'm wearing something that has nothing to do with them?
Street harassment robs women of so much. Our ability to feel safe in public, to go where we need to go when we need to without fear. Of money (the cabs I take to avoid being out after dark alone). Of basic humanness and politeness. I don't respond sometimes when people are just saying hello or being friendly, because if I respond to the wrong person who isn't just being friendly, it's so much worse. I try not to feel my moods in public, since when I'm happy or smiling to myself, it can be so much worse. I second guess what I wear, even though it often doesn't matter.
I don't have any conclusion to this. I just feel like venting and being sad about it.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
And if we make it till then/ Can I ask you again/ For another ten?
Days 1 and 2 of Kondo-ing
I am procrastinating getting started. Not because I don't want to do it, but because I am worried: what if nothing sparks joy? People always tell me that I never seem sufficiently happy about good news. Maybe I don't actually have emotions, in which case this is not going to go well.
********
I am sitting in a pile of clothes when Drew arrives home unexpectedly early. I can hear Marie Kondo screaming "no!" (one of her main rules is that you should do this process in isolation so that others don't sway you), but I ask Drew if it's all right if I keep my pair of jeans even though they don't spark joy. Drew agrees one pair of jeans is the sort of thing you may need at some point (citing the fact that I brought them to Punta Cana, though I didn't actually wear them there; dubious, but he's agreeing with me, so let's go with it). Marie Kondo is really screaming now, I'm sure, but I happily fold them vertically.
********
I stumble out of bed and groggily join Drew in the living room. He's much more awake than I am. I stare off into space for a few minutes before demanding "do those snack bags bring you joy?" referring to the box of disposable snack bags that is for some reason sitting in the center of our mantle. Drew sensibly suggests we just put them away where they go in the kitchen rather than worrying about their joy bringing abilities.
********
Does this Jungian analysis of Nancy Drew book bring me joy? Do you really have to ask? Of course it does.
********
Alice comes in screaming with her cat toy. Her glare clearly says "lady, this has the potential to bring me a ton of joy if you would just cooperate."
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
I want to die/ Knowing I/ Had a long, full life in your arms
I've decided to Kondo the f**** out of my apartment. I've been wanting to do something like this for awhile, but I recently actually read her book (yes, yes, yes, I KNOW. It's not on the list; I managed to get behind again on my progress and the year is almost over, etc.; I've been on international travel for work and when this happens I treat myself to non-fiction. I'm reading Love & Math, too).
Anyway, I'm so very excited to try. I'm not a minimalist, so I don't think I'll do it to the extent she'd want, but that's fine. I'm pretty good at accepting myself as I am in most ways.That said, I've been shocked by how much people deviate from her directions, and so casually. She's quite clear on the importance of starting with clothes, people; why are you starting with your books? Why are you refusing to pull everything out on the floor?
I am sure that once I start I will regret being so judge-y, since I'm sure that I will be even worse.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
I stand on a precipice/ I struggle to keep my balance/ I open myself/ I open myself/ One stitch at a time
First, read this. It is required pre-reading before this piece; or at least pre-skimming.
Setting aside the obvious (I’m not even sure I’m an athlete, and I’m definitely not an elite one), this piece spoke to me so much. When I first read it, I felt like someone was describing what I went through with my trampoline backdrops. Backdrops are just what they sound like, jump up, lean back, land on your back and protect your neck; keep bouncing up and down on your back in continuous backdrops, bounce back to your feet, or use it to bounce into another trick.
They are basic, they are easy; even for me, they were easy. I took to backdrops easily. I quickly used them for other skills. Then, one day, with no warning, they terrified me. I would bounce up and down forever, unable to lean back, break the angle, and land. I could still do perfect bullet drops off the trapeze, but on the trampoline I’d stall and panic. My coach, Thomas, spent hours with me on them, essentially going through all the steps outline in that piece. Now, I do backdrops again without a spot, but fear still lurks.
Moreover, I still block. I block in static trapeze on doing cradles in the ropes. Essentially, from standing on the trapeze, you grasp the ropes the trapeze hangs from, one in each hand. You pull yourself up into a ball, invent so your butt is above your head, extend your legs out straight and tag the ropes for extra support, and then finish by arching your back. It’s a very stable position.
Again, this is a basic move. I do it in hands (rather than hanging by the ropes, Drew does essentially a knee hang, and then I hang from his hands and tag his arms), I do it hanging on the bar without any fear ever. I’m cleared to do it without a spot. I’m cleared to do harder, more complex, more dynamic moves without a spot. Yes, it is a high move. Anymore I’m probably about 12’ above the ground when I complete the move. However, even when my coach William would lower the bar to just barely above the ground it scared me.
I’m getting through it, though. It used to be that we’d do a mount where Drew boosts me up to the bar, and then I’d stand on the bar with my hands gripping the ropes, and just freeze, telling myself I’d go when the flying instructor (classes run concurrently) said “hep” to the student they’re working with, but then not. William would eventually say “you’ve got this, Jenn,” and then I’d dutifully start the move (because you’ll do things for your coaches you can’t do for yourself). Now, I can start without that verbal push. I’m working less on doing the move, and more on not being afraid to do the move; it’s not scary once I start, I know it’s not scary. As it gets less scary, a new move takes its place as the source of aerial fear. I’ll always be facing demons and climbing these fear mountains as long as I do aerial.
When I talk about my fears and how that’s part of aerial for me, people always ask if it’s working, if I’m getting less afraid, if it’s worth it, if I’m able to apply this work on fears to other aspects of my life (as though it isn’t worth it if it only applies to trapeze). On the one hand, my life has improved immeasurably because of trapeze. Of course it’s worth it.
But on the other hand, even if it hadn’t, even if all of this was confined to the world of trapeze, it would still be worth it. Working on these fears, working through blocking, has shown me a fundamental truth about myself: I am someone who faces these demons and climbs these mountains; it’s part of who I am.
Setting aside the obvious (I’m not even sure I’m an athlete, and I’m definitely not an elite one), this piece spoke to me so much. When I first read it, I felt like someone was describing what I went through with my trampoline backdrops. Backdrops are just what they sound like, jump up, lean back, land on your back and protect your neck; keep bouncing up and down on your back in continuous backdrops, bounce back to your feet, or use it to bounce into another trick.
They are basic, they are easy; even for me, they were easy. I took to backdrops easily. I quickly used them for other skills. Then, one day, with no warning, they terrified me. I would bounce up and down forever, unable to lean back, break the angle, and land. I could still do perfect bullet drops off the trapeze, but on the trampoline I’d stall and panic. My coach, Thomas, spent hours with me on them, essentially going through all the steps outline in that piece. Now, I do backdrops again without a spot, but fear still lurks.
Moreover, I still block. I block in static trapeze on doing cradles in the ropes. Essentially, from standing on the trapeze, you grasp the ropes the trapeze hangs from, one in each hand. You pull yourself up into a ball, invent so your butt is above your head, extend your legs out straight and tag the ropes for extra support, and then finish by arching your back. It’s a very stable position.
Again, this is a basic move. I do it in hands (rather than hanging by the ropes, Drew does essentially a knee hang, and then I hang from his hands and tag his arms), I do it hanging on the bar without any fear ever. I’m cleared to do it without a spot. I’m cleared to do harder, more complex, more dynamic moves without a spot. Yes, it is a high move. Anymore I’m probably about 12’ above the ground when I complete the move. However, even when my coach William would lower the bar to just barely above the ground it scared me.
I’m getting through it, though. It used to be that we’d do a mount where Drew boosts me up to the bar, and then I’d stand on the bar with my hands gripping the ropes, and just freeze, telling myself I’d go when the flying instructor (classes run concurrently) said “hep” to the student they’re working with, but then not. William would eventually say “you’ve got this, Jenn,” and then I’d dutifully start the move (because you’ll do things for your coaches you can’t do for yourself). Now, I can start without that verbal push. I’m working less on doing the move, and more on not being afraid to do the move; it’s not scary once I start, I know it’s not scary. As it gets less scary, a new move takes its place as the source of aerial fear. I’ll always be facing demons and climbing these fear mountains as long as I do aerial.
When I talk about my fears and how that’s part of aerial for me, people always ask if it’s working, if I’m getting less afraid, if it’s worth it, if I’m able to apply this work on fears to other aspects of my life (as though it isn’t worth it if it only applies to trapeze). On the one hand, my life has improved immeasurably because of trapeze. Of course it’s worth it.
But on the other hand, even if it hadn’t, even if all of this was confined to the world of trapeze, it would still be worth it. Working on these fears, working through blocking, has shown me a fundamental truth about myself: I am someone who faces these demons and climbs these mountains; it’s part of who I am.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
I grip and she grips,/ And faster, we're sliding./ Sliding and spilling, and what can I do?
So, book 700. This isn't exactly a milestone, exactly. That won't really happen till 750 in about six months. Though, this may be the first time I'm celebrating a milestone, albeit a small one, at the right point.
It's hard to believe I'm this close to being 3/4ths of the way through this project. I should feel more celebratory than I do. I mostly just feel strange (that may not be the fault of the list project, though).
In some ways, the most dominant thing about this project is how very long it's been going on at this point. It's seen me through so many changes, so many different eras of my life. It's been the one constant through upheaval and change. Anymore I often wish that I was just done with this, but sometimes the thought of being done almost makes me sad.
I've been thinking a lot lately about change and moving on, how you know when to do it, how you do it at all, and I'm sure that's coloring my thinking significantly. Normally I'd just be excited to still be making progress.
It's hard to believe I'm this close to being 3/4ths of the way through this project. I should feel more celebratory than I do. I mostly just feel strange (that may not be the fault of the list project, though).
In some ways, the most dominant thing about this project is how very long it's been going on at this point. It's seen me through so many changes, so many different eras of my life. It's been the one constant through upheaval and change. Anymore I often wish that I was just done with this, but sometimes the thought of being done almost makes me sad.
I've been thinking a lot lately about change and moving on, how you know when to do it, how you do it at all, and I'm sure that's coloring my thinking significantly. Normally I'd just be excited to still be making progress.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
Just the typical facts of a typical life in a town on the Eastern Shore/ I thought about what I wanted/ It wasn't like that at all/ Made Carolann a cute baby sweater/ Thinking "I can do better than that"
Addendum to my last post:
Drew read it and told me that I should not count those two books toward my reading goal for this year, since I didn't read them this year. Technicalities, people. I pointed him to the line about how I get to make the rules for this project.
However, I actually did read two more books in June, so I guess I got to 50 whichever way you want to slice it. Now to get organized again and get to that 700 goal.
Drew read it and told me that I should not count those two books toward my reading goal for this year, since I didn't read them this year. Technicalities, people. I pointed him to the line about how I get to make the rules for this project.
However, I actually did read two more books in June, so I guess I got to 50 whichever way you want to slice it. Now to get organized again and get to that 700 goal.
Friday, June 26, 2015
We build a treehouse,/ I keep it from shaking--/ Little more glue ev'ry time that it breaks/ Perfectly balanced,/ And then I start making/Conscious, deliberate mistakes.
Unbelievably enough (no, seriously, I really don't believe it), I am caught up! I am ahead! I've read more than 50 list books this year so far and June is NOT YET OVER! Let's all pause for a moment and let that sink in.
I don't really know how I turned this around; I got more organized which made things easier (reading is almost easier than dealing with getting the books, so streamlining things helps a lot). I also read some really, really short books. Still, given how far behind I was, it's kind of amazing.
I suppose one key point that I should acknowledge is that I'm counting two books that I had read a long time ago (like, 1984, which I read ages ago) and had failed to log. So one could argue that I didn't actually catch up; additionally, many, many of my milestones have been noted incorrectly (e.g. the book I thought was the 500th was actually the 501st, so go figure).
Fortunately, since I make the rules for this little project, I get to not really care at all. I am incredibly untroubled by the incorrectness of those milestone celebrations and I am more than happy to count those two books for this year.
At a more macro scale, I'm at 689 books for the project. I really, really want to cross that 700 threshold. I'm most excited for crossing 750 and being in that final 25% of the project, but I feel like 700 will also feel like a tipping point.
I don't really know how I turned this around; I got more organized which made things easier (reading is almost easier than dealing with getting the books, so streamlining things helps a lot). I also read some really, really short books. Still, given how far behind I was, it's kind of amazing.
I suppose one key point that I should acknowledge is that I'm counting two books that I had read a long time ago (like, 1984, which I read ages ago) and had failed to log. So one could argue that I didn't actually catch up; additionally, many, many of my milestones have been noted incorrectly (e.g. the book I thought was the 500th was actually the 501st, so go figure).
Fortunately, since I make the rules for this little project, I get to not really care at all. I am incredibly untroubled by the incorrectness of those milestone celebrations and I am more than happy to count those two books for this year.
At a more macro scale, I'm at 689 books for the project. I really, really want to cross that 700 threshold. I'm most excited for crossing 750 and being in that final 25% of the project, but I feel like 700 will also feel like a tipping point.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
I guess I can't believe you really came/ And that we're sitting on this pier/ See, I'm smiling/ That means I'm happy that you're here
Recently I did the conditioning test at the rig (still conflicted about things, but doing that test on that particular day made me feel strong and triumphant, so I'll take it). I wouldn't say that it was anti-climatic exactly, but at the same time as I've written before, getting to pull-ups felt like something that just suddenly happened.
In some ways, getting stronger is very nice. I like feeling strong. I like doing pull-ups. I like being able to do pull-ups. I like being able (well, less unable) to base someone doing back balance in static trapeze. I like feeling strong and brave and being able to cradle in the ropes up high (for me) and being able to finally, finally fly shoulder stand and feel calm and controlled and strong (hahaha, it doesn't really take strength). I like the confidence that comes with being stronger than I need to be for things that used to be hard. I like how I feel safer attempting static now.
And yet.....
I also recently went to the doctor; I make it a point to never weigh myself. It's not good for my mental health, and I really try to just focus on having a healthy relationship with food and exercise and my body, and that's enough, thank you very much. So I hadn't known my weight in a year. And I weigh about 3lbs more than last year.
Optimally, it would be great for that to not matter. Objectively, it shouldn't. Knowing what I know about muscle density versus fat and how much muscle I likely gained given the training regime I've been doing for the past five months and the strength gains I've seen, I know that I've likely lost around 5-7lbs of fat and weighing more is actually progress to being fitter.
And yet.....
I'll probably never feel that way about weighing more. I was going to write "and maybe that's okay," but I don't know, I guess maybe it is and maybe it isn't, and meanwhile I'm just trying to focus on the positive. I am stronger and braver and maybe for now that's enough.
In some ways, getting stronger is very nice. I like feeling strong. I like doing pull-ups. I like being able to do pull-ups. I like being able (well, less unable) to base someone doing back balance in static trapeze. I like feeling strong and brave and being able to cradle in the ropes up high (for me) and being able to finally, finally fly shoulder stand and feel calm and controlled and strong (hahaha, it doesn't really take strength). I like the confidence that comes with being stronger than I need to be for things that used to be hard. I like how I feel safer attempting static now.
And yet.....
I also recently went to the doctor; I make it a point to never weigh myself. It's not good for my mental health, and I really try to just focus on having a healthy relationship with food and exercise and my body, and that's enough, thank you very much. So I hadn't known my weight in a year. And I weigh about 3lbs more than last year.
Optimally, it would be great for that to not matter. Objectively, it shouldn't. Knowing what I know about muscle density versus fat and how much muscle I likely gained given the training regime I've been doing for the past five months and the strength gains I've seen, I know that I've likely lost around 5-7lbs of fat and weighing more is actually progress to being fitter.
And yet.....
I'll probably never feel that way about weighing more. I was going to write "and maybe that's okay," but I don't know, I guess maybe it is and maybe it isn't, and meanwhile I'm just trying to focus on the positive. I am stronger and braver and maybe for now that's enough.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
I could never rescue you/ All you ever wanted/ But I could never rescue you/ No matter how I tried
Since I've not been reading as much as I should lately (#storyof2015 #failingatlife), here's a some random thoughts on another topic.
First, I should preface this story by explaining that my brother Josh and I are not time travelers from the future post-zombie apocalypse world, nor did we grow up in a survivalist cult. I really can't explain why we both have this same quirk.
But, for whatever reason, Josh and I both take an oddly post-apocalyptic/under siege approach to our daily lives (Josh collects machetes). This worked well when we lived together, since my apartment is made for this kind of thing. My father describes it as favela chic, and passersby tend to assume the place is abandoned (it's also dirt cheap, huge, and in an amazing DC neighborhood that lets me walk to work).
While living together, Josh put up tinfoil covered cardboard pieces to block out the sun using dowels, we made a similar contraption to block an odd crawl space off, cut up old shirts to use as dishrags (and stock-piled these shirts, I know other people do this but we took it to a new level), attempted to use only the clean trashbags that our laundry came back in and not buy any, had minimal furniture, and made makeshift plumbing fixtures to address some (serious?) issues there. Duct tape is our friend.
Now, I live with Drew, and I'm coming to realize that Josh and I may not be normal. Whenever Drew wants to call a plumber (for chronic issues I barely notice anymore), my first reaction is to see what Josh thinks. This is because I know he'll back me up. Our motto was "never let a stranger or casual acquaintance or friend in the apartment." Drew, being less off kilter, has probably stopped trusting either of us on this sort of thing.
Part of it, for me, is that I'm fascinated by how we adapt and can come to see anything as normal. For example, after one year with my iPhone the internet stopped working unless I was on wifi, though I have a data plan. However, if I make a call out it will briefly let me access the internet. So, I just make calls out all the time (to 611, not to real people), and I've been doing that for a year and a half, the majority of the time I've owned the phone. I've stopped noticing that I do that. Isn't that amazing? At first it was so annoying! Now it's still annoying, but I've come to almost believe that's what it takes to get online with your phone. Whenever I get a new phone, I'll spend the first few months making unnecessary calls out and feeling amazed. Then, I'll get totally used to it. Brains are so weird
Now, Josh and I aren't exactly the same. He would not put up with this phone thing for this long, I don't think, and I'm not living in a supply closet on a futon on the ground. However, a similar instinct/preference runs through us. Combined with my affinity for art deco, this led to a really odd apartment when we lived together.
First, I should preface this story by explaining that my brother Josh and I are not time travelers from the future post-zombie apocalypse world, nor did we grow up in a survivalist cult. I really can't explain why we both have this same quirk.
But, for whatever reason, Josh and I both take an oddly post-apocalyptic/under siege approach to our daily lives (Josh collects machetes). This worked well when we lived together, since my apartment is made for this kind of thing. My father describes it as favela chic, and passersby tend to assume the place is abandoned (it's also dirt cheap, huge, and in an amazing DC neighborhood that lets me walk to work).
While living together, Josh put up tinfoil covered cardboard pieces to block out the sun using dowels, we made a similar contraption to block an odd crawl space off, cut up old shirts to use as dishrags (and stock-piled these shirts, I know other people do this but we took it to a new level), attempted to use only the clean trashbags that our laundry came back in and not buy any, had minimal furniture, and made makeshift plumbing fixtures to address some (serious?) issues there. Duct tape is our friend.
Now, I live with Drew, and I'm coming to realize that Josh and I may not be normal. Whenever Drew wants to call a plumber (for chronic issues I barely notice anymore), my first reaction is to see what Josh thinks. This is because I know he'll back me up. Our motto was "never let a stranger or casual acquaintance or friend in the apartment." Drew, being less off kilter, has probably stopped trusting either of us on this sort of thing.
Part of it, for me, is that I'm fascinated by how we adapt and can come to see anything as normal. For example, after one year with my iPhone the internet stopped working unless I was on wifi, though I have a data plan. However, if I make a call out it will briefly let me access the internet. So, I just make calls out all the time (to 611, not to real people), and I've been doing that for a year and a half, the majority of the time I've owned the phone. I've stopped noticing that I do that. Isn't that amazing? At first it was so annoying! Now it's still annoying, but I've come to almost believe that's what it takes to get online with your phone. Whenever I get a new phone, I'll spend the first few months making unnecessary calls out and feeling amazed. Then, I'll get totally used to it. Brains are so weird
Now, Josh and I aren't exactly the same. He would not put up with this phone thing for this long, I don't think, and I'm not living in a supply closet on a futon on the ground. However, a similar instinct/preference runs through us. Combined with my affinity for art deco, this led to a really odd apartment when we lived together.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
No one can give you courage/ No one can thicken your skin
Some mistakes are more forgivable than others, I suppose, and in the scheme of things, this is a minor one. But, anyway, I read my 666th list book. I was planning to be deliberate and intentional with this one, to pick something befitting of being the book of the beast, as it were.
But, instead, I just forgot all about that and read Diary of a Nobody for it, which in no way fits with book of the beast. It's also pretty boring, not really all that fun, and I'd say largely skip-able, unless you're into satirical novels of the late 19th century.
It's particularly irritating to me that I did this, since I'd actually been on a cult kick lately, similar to that one time where I read about 10 books about murder all in a row, except this time it's randomly a whole bunch of books about cults in various forms (Drop City, She, Super-Cannes, The Plumed Serpent, among others; it actually started to get weird, since I didn't set out to do this as a theme or anything; of these, I highly recommend Super-Cannes). Really, any of those would have been a better choice than Diary of a Nobody.
In other news, I've read 31 books this year and I AM FREAKING OUT. I mean, it's not totally and completely impossible that I'd get to 50 in the next seven weeks, but I think that we can all agree that it's pretty unlikely. GAH.
But, instead, I just forgot all about that and read Diary of a Nobody for it, which in no way fits with book of the beast. It's also pretty boring, not really all that fun, and I'd say largely skip-able, unless you're into satirical novels of the late 19th century.
It's particularly irritating to me that I did this, since I'd actually been on a cult kick lately, similar to that one time where I read about 10 books about murder all in a row, except this time it's randomly a whole bunch of books about cults in various forms (Drop City, She, Super-Cannes, The Plumed Serpent, among others; it actually started to get weird, since I didn't set out to do this as a theme or anything; of these, I highly recommend Super-Cannes). Really, any of those would have been a better choice than Diary of a Nobody.
In other news, I've read 31 books this year and I AM FREAKING OUT. I mean, it's not totally and completely impossible that I'd get to 50 in the next seven weeks, but I think that we can all agree that it's pretty unlikely. GAH.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
So goodbye until tomorrow/ Goodbye until my feet touch the floor/ And I will be waiting/ I will be waiting
DCPL Card Privilege Expires in 30 Days
Thus, ominously, read the email subject line. My first reaction, quite naturally, was to sort of panic a bit. What could I have possibly done to lose DCPL library privileges? Was this about the time I took advantage of their new "we don't fine you till your books are 30 days overdue" policy and kept a book nearly three weeks late? Surely not, though. That's their own policy after all. Or about the various times where I put a book on hold but just failed to make it to the library on time for it? Yes, that's obnoxious of me, but this, without warning, seems too extreme.
Eventually, I worked up the nerve to open it. "Our records indicate that your DC library card will expire in 30 days. Library card accounts expire every three years. To re-activate or renew your account simply visit any of the library's 26 locations and present picture ID and an official document with your current address such as a bill, lease, bank statement, or a driver's license (which would cover both picture and address requirements)."
All right, fine, that's not so bad. Still, it's annoying. Still, let's put it off for several weeks.
Over the course of those weeks, I began to dread the encounter. Of course my ID doesn't have my current address, so I had to find a utilities bill. But what if they reject it? To be safe, I brought a utilities bill, bank statement, and letter from my landlord with my address (rent adjustment notification).
As Drew can attest, I whined the whole walk to the library. Why? Why must I go through this? What if they reject all of my forms of ID? What will I do then???
And then, I'll have to deal with the librarian! I always use the self-checkout. What if they yell at me for not updating my address in their system (which means that every time I put books on hold I have to change the default library to the one closer to my current location, yes I know that I could have changed it JUST ONCE rather than dealing with this hassle on the regular, no, I don't know what's wrong with me).
Finally, I go into the library, hand the librarian my card, ID, and utility bill, takes less than 5min. So anti-climatic.
ALSO! I definitely have had the library card for more than three years; nearly six, in fact, but not exactly, so what gives, DCPL?
Thus, ominously, read the email subject line. My first reaction, quite naturally, was to sort of panic a bit. What could I have possibly done to lose DCPL library privileges? Was this about the time I took advantage of their new "we don't fine you till your books are 30 days overdue" policy and kept a book nearly three weeks late? Surely not, though. That's their own policy after all. Or about the various times where I put a book on hold but just failed to make it to the library on time for it? Yes, that's obnoxious of me, but this, without warning, seems too extreme.
Eventually, I worked up the nerve to open it. "Our records indicate that your DC library card will expire in 30 days. Library card accounts expire every three years. To re-activate or renew your account simply visit any of the library's 26 locations and present picture ID and an official document with your current address such as a bill, lease, bank statement, or a driver's license (which would cover both picture and address requirements)."
All right, fine, that's not so bad. Still, it's annoying. Still, let's put it off for several weeks.
Over the course of those weeks, I began to dread the encounter. Of course my ID doesn't have my current address, so I had to find a utilities bill. But what if they reject it? To be safe, I brought a utilities bill, bank statement, and letter from my landlord with my address (rent adjustment notification).
As Drew can attest, I whined the whole walk to the library. Why? Why must I go through this? What if they reject all of my forms of ID? What will I do then???
And then, I'll have to deal with the librarian! I always use the self-checkout. What if they yell at me for not updating my address in their system (which means that every time I put books on hold I have to change the default library to the one closer to my current location, yes I know that I could have changed it JUST ONCE rather than dealing with this hassle on the regular, no, I don't know what's wrong with me).
Finally, I go into the library, hand the librarian my card, ID, and utility bill, takes less than 5min. So anti-climatic.
ALSO! I definitely have had the library card for more than three years; nearly six, in fact, but not exactly, so what gives, DCPL?
Friday, May 1, 2015
All I could do was love you hard/ And let you go
It's time to celebrate! I finished Dance to the Music of Time. That's a very, very long book. The second longest on the list, in fact, clocking in at some 2944 pages. Google helpfully told me that the average book has ~250-300 words per page. Low-balling, that means I read about 736,000 words. Yowza. What strikes me as grossly unfair is that this tome is really 12 novels, or at the very least four (12 novellas clumped together in four novels). But does the list count it that way? Oh, no. Of course not. It counts it as just one.
So, how was it? Long, that's really the first word that comes to mind. Fortunately, it is highly readable and quite enjoyable. I wouldn't recommend binge reading it like I did, but I would recommend reading it, maybe slowly as you would a series of four novels and not as one novel that you just have to get through so your stats don't suffer anymore, dammit. If I have one critique, it's the absence of any really interesting female characters (yes, there is Pamela and yes, she is fun in a Carmen Sternwood way, but it take her forever to appear). However, if I were to make that a disqualifier I wouldn't read the majority of these books, so.....
Unlike In Search of Lost Time, I don't feel a strong need for a reward here (I'd link to my pieces on that tome, but I'm waaaaaay too lazy for that kind of digging), perhaps because it was a fun one. Though, I may be in Georgetown soon and I am a sucker for Baked and Wired cupcakes, and I say this as someone who isn't really a fan of cake. I want to marry these cupcakes and have their babies.
So, how was it? Long, that's really the first word that comes to mind. Fortunately, it is highly readable and quite enjoyable. I wouldn't recommend binge reading it like I did, but I would recommend reading it, maybe slowly as you would a series of four novels and not as one novel that you just have to get through so your stats don't suffer anymore, dammit. If I have one critique, it's the absence of any really interesting female characters (yes, there is Pamela and yes, she is fun in a Carmen Sternwood way, but it take her forever to appear). However, if I were to make that a disqualifier I wouldn't read the majority of these books, so.....
Unlike In Search of Lost Time, I don't feel a strong need for a reward here (I'd link to my pieces on that tome, but I'm waaaaaay too lazy for that kind of digging), perhaps because it was a fun one. Though, I may be in Georgetown soon and I am a sucker for Baked and Wired cupcakes, and I say this as someone who isn't really a fan of cake. I want to marry these cupcakes and have their babies.
Friday, April 24, 2015
I swear to God I'll never understand/ How you can stand there straight and tall/ And see I'm crying/ And not do anything at all
The other day Drew and I were talking about what attracts us to static, and I mentioned that one aspect that I enjoy is working through really painful moves, gradually killing nerve endings, gradually building up the tolerance, etc. Apparently, Drew not only doesn't feel the same way, he also thinks that this may make me qualify as a masochist.
It's sort of similar to what I love about flying; I'm pretty sure that I don't love flying trapeze in spite of my serious fear of heights. I'm pretty sure that I love it, at least in part, because of my fear and the high I get from working on that fear (and the lows that I get, let's not kid ourselves). I realize this isn't normal, and maybe I am a masochist.
I've since been trying to think through what I do get out of these two sides of the same coin, playing with fear and playing with pain. I think it's several things:
First, fear and pain are limiting factors. Working this way helps me expand the world that feels safe. I have many irrational, childish fears (fire, I'm looking at you; also, phone calls). If I didn't work on them, the world would actually be scarier. I get to be in control when I make it intentional, and if there's one thing I love in life, it's control.
Second, I get to seem totally crazy. I'm not sure why I like giving the impression to folks that I have a weird relationship with fear and pain, but if I'm being honest, I do like watching people's reactions.
Third, when your hobbies are this scary and this painful, it really does make regular life seem great. You don't know how amazing your feet feel by default until you stop trying to do a toe hang, you really don't. There is just a pure endorphin factor here.
Fourth, I have a greater fear than heights, and that is stasis. I'm terrified to stop learning, growing, striving, trying. Life has to be a constant challenge, even to the point where I have to be constantly in battle with myself.
It's sort of similar to what I love about flying; I'm pretty sure that I don't love flying trapeze in spite of my serious fear of heights. I'm pretty sure that I love it, at least in part, because of my fear and the high I get from working on that fear (and the lows that I get, let's not kid ourselves). I realize this isn't normal, and maybe I am a masochist.
I've since been trying to think through what I do get out of these two sides of the same coin, playing with fear and playing with pain. I think it's several things:
First, fear and pain are limiting factors. Working this way helps me expand the world that feels safe. I have many irrational, childish fears (fire, I'm looking at you; also, phone calls). If I didn't work on them, the world would actually be scarier. I get to be in control when I make it intentional, and if there's one thing I love in life, it's control.
Second, I get to seem totally crazy. I'm not sure why I like giving the impression to folks that I have a weird relationship with fear and pain, but if I'm being honest, I do like watching people's reactions.
Third, when your hobbies are this scary and this painful, it really does make regular life seem great. You don't know how amazing your feet feel by default until you stop trying to do a toe hang, you really don't. There is just a pure endorphin factor here.
Fourth, I have a greater fear than heights, and that is stasis. I'm terrified to stop learning, growing, striving, trying. Life has to be a constant challenge, even to the point where I have to be constantly in battle with myself.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Make up your mind there are moments of light/ The one thing that's sure/ Is that there is no cure/ But that doesn't mean we don't fight
So, what are the longest books, you ask? Here are the top 15 with the ones I've read bolded.
3424 Marcel Proust Remembrance of Things Past
2944 Anthony Powell A Dance to the Music of Time
1824 Robert Musil The Man Without Qualities
1703 Uwe Johnson Jahrestage
1533 Samuel Richardson Clarissa
1474 Vikram Seth A Suitable Boy
1440 Yukio Mishima The Sea of Fertility
1436 Herman Melville Moby-Dick
1386 Leo Tolstoy War and Peace
1330 Victor Hugo Les Misérables
1288 John Dos Passos U.S.A.
1280 Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra Don Quixote
1240 Alexandre Dumas The Count of Monte-Cristo
1216 J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings
1079 David Foster Wallace Infinite Jest
Of the 23,445 pages that make up the longest 15 on the list, I've read 15,624 or so (I'm in the middle of A Dance to the Music of Time, so it's a bit hard to say exactly). That's about 67%, which I guess isn't terrible but also isn't that great. Though I guess I'm about 66% done with the list, too, so it's about right. I feel like I need to invest in these longest ones. Maybe I can also get to The Man Without Qualities this year as well; I can try really hard to be at 100 in early December and read it then (hahahah, I'm still behind on books, this is a terrible plan).
3424 Marcel Proust Remembrance of Things Past
2944 Anthony Powell A Dance to the Music of Time
1824 Robert Musil The Man Without Qualities
1703 Uwe Johnson Jahrestage
1533 Samuel Richardson Clarissa
1474 Vikram Seth A Suitable Boy
1440 Yukio Mishima The Sea of Fertility
1436 Herman Melville Moby-Dick
1386 Leo Tolstoy War and Peace
1330 Victor Hugo Les Misérables
1288 John Dos Passos U.S.A.
1280 Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra Don Quixote
1240 Alexandre Dumas The Count of Monte-Cristo
1216 J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings
1079 David Foster Wallace Infinite Jest
Of the 23,445 pages that make up the longest 15 on the list, I've read 15,624 or so (I'm in the middle of A Dance to the Music of Time, so it's a bit hard to say exactly). That's about 67%, which I guess isn't terrible but also isn't that great. Though I guess I'm about 66% done with the list, too, so it's about right. I feel like I need to invest in these longest ones. Maybe I can also get to The Man Without Qualities this year as well; I can try really hard to be at 100 in early December and read it then (hahahah, I'm still behind on books, this is a terrible plan).
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
An updated FAQ
I wrote a couple of FAQs at the start of the project, but I think that I may need to do a new one. I've gotten some different questions over the years (years! gah), and some things have changed. Here goes:
Who created the list? (unstated but implied follow up: why trust them):
So, confession time. Like the question about whether I read the list in order, this one really took me by surprise the first time someone asked it. It never occurred to me to care. I use this list which is based on a book. The recommendations were compiled from several editors/lit professors, I believe (I read about it right after this first was asked, but it didn't fully lodge in the brain). I guess I don't really care because I'm not reading the books to read the "best books" or the books I'd most enjoy or whatever. It's about broadening reading horizons. Any list will always be arbitrary, and that's fine.
How far are you?
This one changes all the time, but I'm at 662. Next big milestone is 750 (taking celebration suggestions), probably will hit that in Q1 2016 or so. Still aiming for completion by about age 32, but looking chancier than ever.
How do you find time?
I've written about that piece before, but here's a mini-answer. My strategies have varied over the years. I think one trick is being adaptive. The main piece is to prioritize this as much as possible. One thing that excites me and has been quite motivating lately is getting more organized. I've started systematically finding Online Archive and Project Gutenberg links for all the public domain options for older books. Oddly enough I'm going to run out of those soon, maybe in the next year. The slight issue is books in the German and the French; le sigh. I'll have to try harder with those. In addition to making it easier, at least for now, to read between library trips, it's just gotten me fired up to read more again. I read a lot online (just random articles), and this is helping to replace that in a way that helps the goal.
Do you buy all the books?
Good lord no. Way too expensive. I'm going to have to start buying some, but I'm going to try to minimize.
Who created the list? (unstated but implied follow up: why trust them):
So, confession time. Like the question about whether I read the list in order, this one really took me by surprise the first time someone asked it. It never occurred to me to care. I use this list which is based on a book. The recommendations were compiled from several editors/lit professors, I believe (I read about it right after this first was asked, but it didn't fully lodge in the brain). I guess I don't really care because I'm not reading the books to read the "best books" or the books I'd most enjoy or whatever. It's about broadening reading horizons. Any list will always be arbitrary, and that's fine.
How far are you?
This one changes all the time, but I'm at 662. Next big milestone is 750 (taking celebration suggestions), probably will hit that in Q1 2016 or so. Still aiming for completion by about age 32, but looking chancier than ever.
How do you find time?
I've written about that piece before, but here's a mini-answer. My strategies have varied over the years. I think one trick is being adaptive. The main piece is to prioritize this as much as possible. One thing that excites me and has been quite motivating lately is getting more organized. I've started systematically finding Online Archive and Project Gutenberg links for all the public domain options for older books. Oddly enough I'm going to run out of those soon, maybe in the next year. The slight issue is books in the German and the French; le sigh. I'll have to try harder with those. In addition to making it easier, at least for now, to read between library trips, it's just gotten me fired up to read more again. I read a lot online (just random articles), and this is helping to replace that in a way that helps the goal.
Do you buy all the books?
Good lord no. Way too expensive. I'm going to have to start buying some, but I'm going to try to minimize.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
"If today were the day you had to stop dancing, how would you feel.....?"
Hahahaha. Oh, Q1 2015, you have not gone well list-wise. Not even remotely. I'm starting to realize that this year may be the first year since 2009 where I fail to read at least 100 books. Ouch. It's early days and it's not too late to get back on track, but we are seriously off track. We are hiking in the wilderness; we, like, got a training from those "leave no trace" people because we are sooooooooooo far off any recognizable path.
Now, then, where exactly do we stand? Aside from at the foot of the "now you have to read so many more books each quarter if you want to catch up" mountain, I mean. As should be pretty obvious, each quarter I aim to read 25 books. This quarter I squeaked in at 20. Like, seriously under the wire with 20. I realized on Sunday that I was at 17, flipped out, and read like a fiend, and I still am failing. Le sigh.
This makes it a particularly poor time to decide to read A Dance to the Music of Time, but I found a cheap set in a used bookstore recently, and, what can I say, I'm nothing if not insane and self-defeating. I'm aiming to read them during our up coming trip to AZ.
If, like me, you are struggling to fit in reading this year, may I recommend this helpful summary of 12 novels? I think, though I'm not totally sure, that my favorite is:
Now, then, where exactly do we stand? Aside from at the foot of the "now you have to read so many more books each quarter if you want to catch up" mountain, I mean. As should be pretty obvious, each quarter I aim to read 25 books. This quarter I squeaked in at 20. Like, seriously under the wire with 20. I realized on Sunday that I was at 17, flipped out, and read like a fiend, and I still am failing. Le sigh.
This makes it a particularly poor time to decide to read A Dance to the Music of Time, but I found a cheap set in a used bookstore recently, and, what can I say, I'm nothing if not insane and self-defeating. I'm aiming to read them during our up coming trip to AZ.
If, like me, you are struggling to fit in reading this year, may I recommend this helpful summary of 12 novels? I think, though I'm not totally sure, that my favorite is:
“Let’s go back to Brideshead,” she said.
“Oh, what a good idea.”
It really was a good idea. They had a wonderful time revisiting Brideshead.
– Brideshead Revisited
Friday, March 20, 2015
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Turn your face to the sun/ Let the shadow fall behind you
I've written about this before, but I get this question all the time, so here I'm tackling it again. How do I do it?
I tend to get asked this question with regard to either reading as many books as I do or just in general balancing my life. I think the answer just might be that I'm naturally efficient and quick, but here's another attempt at the details:
I tend to get asked this question with regard to either reading as many books as I do or just in general balancing my life. I think the answer just might be that I'm naturally efficient and quick, but here's another attempt at the details:
- I only have two hobbies, reading and aerial.
- Well, I guess there is fitness, but it's tied to aerial.
- I take a lot of aerial classes a week, but because Drew and I fly together and are doubles partners, it's time together plus creative outlet plus community. So efficient!
- But also the best! Seriously.
- We do fitness stuff at home with the occasional spin and barre class at studios super close to home (well, I do those classes), so there's not a lot of time wasted.
- I used to be really lazy about cooking. That's gotten better, but again we do easy-ish meals and cook together.
- I'm not as obsessive as I'd like to be about keeping the apartment in order. You have to let some things go.
- No children.
- Sufficient sleep is a priority.
- I can walk to work in 12min, so I don't waste time commuting. This is huge. While you can take a death by a thousand cuts approach to getting back time or saving money, if you can save either with huge expenses (which I do with this strangely cheap and centrally located place) and time sucks, it will make a larger impact.
- I work when I can be effective. I get in the office early and rarely stay late because that what makes me efficient and productive.
- Scheduling stuff after work helps. Then I know that I have to get enough done and be efficient enough in the time I have or I can't do X fun thing.
- Life is a marathon, not a sprint, so I pace myself and prioritize self-care.
- I don't wear make-up or have any sort of beauty routine. I shower and brush my hair. That's really it.
- I read all the time. If you can only read when you have time to devote 30+ min to the activity, it will be hard to get through books. If you can read for 5min and maintain mental continuity, that helps a lot.
- I read quickly. I'm naturally a more empathetic, engaged reader, which makes me slower, but I've become increasingly analytic and detached. It's a different experience, but it's faster.
- I track my reader and push myself when I get behind.
- I don't waste time evaluating books, since I know that I have to read them regardless.
- I read summaries if a book will be hard so that it's easier to follow. This feels like a cheat, but I do it anyway.
- I'm not naturally social, so I really sort of hate going out and I prefer a small group of close people in my life. Saves time.
- I accept that I will be mediocre at some things and focus on what is important to me, regardless of what the world thinks that I should do.
- I don't get sucked into all the other things that I want to do, like get back into music, do Irish social dance, paint the apartment, write fiction, join bookclubs, etc. Even writing that out makes me sad. There is so much that I want to do!
- I'm happiest when busy.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
This was unexpected/What do I do now?/ Could we start again please?
I've been meaning to write something about my journey to pull-ups. The end, though, was kind of anti-climatic. One day I thought, hmm, I wonder if I can do pull-ups yet? And then I did some. But let's back up.
I think that my quads and calves were the first part of my body to get strong. My first foray into fitness was running on a treadmill and losing a significant amount of weight as a young teenager (15, I guess). Then I got into dance and kept running. I had really strong legs. Then I injured my back in college and got it back to healthy with Pilates. I got obsessed with the reformer, specifically. When I moved to DC I started doing barre to fill that need. My core got crazy strong; I think my core strength is the most remarkable thing about my fitness profile.
But my upper-body? Terrible. I couldn't even really do push-ups. Barre had a push-ups and weights section, but I never seemed to get stronger. I also didn't necessarily care all that much. At the time fitness was primarily a fun way to not blow up like a balloon (since the other option, eating less frozen yogurt, clearly isn't fun).
Then I got into aerial, and while you don't need much upper-body strength when you start, if you get serious you do. Especially if you get serious about something aside from flying. While basing involves a lot of core strength, my arms (well, back, chest, biceps, triceps, and shoulders) were/are my limiting factor. And they still weren't getting stronger. I resolved a few times to really work on pull-ups, but I never saw any progress.
It's not entirely fair to make it sound like one day I just could do pull-ups. I made some serious changes (that I am just now finally getting to writing about; sorry), but I wasn't focused on pull-ups and I didn't expect to get them so quickly. First, Drew and I did the Gamma round of Focus T25; Shaun T (best known for Insanity) does amazing cardio, but Gamma was his first really strength focused workouts. Then we did Insanity Max 30 (which is probably my favorite workout series ever), and it has strength workouts built into the schedule. They were still cardio-ish, so they were fun, but I actually got stronger. There is an odd tricep focus in them, and all of a sudden I can do tricep pushups. I never could do good ones even on my knees, even though in barre you do them every class.
I wanted to get stronger for specific aerial goals, so I asked Drew to create a regime that would focus on strength but would keep cardio (so I don't go crazy; must have cardio). He reviews and describes it here. The main ingredient is Sagi's Beachbody series called Body Beast. It's all about lifting heavy; there are drop sets and super sets and giant sets, and I sort of feel like a bro when I do it. I don't love the misogynist comments that come up (there are no women in the series, and Sagi will say things like "this is not the girly workout" or derogatorily call one of the guys "barbie"), but I was inspired by the Dumbbells and Diapers blogger. I figured, what's the worst that could happen?
And the answer is, I'd suddenly be able to do pull-ups. On the one hand, this is exciting, but on the other hand it kind of makes me angry. Pull-ups, for whatever reasons, have this reputation as being nearly impossible for women to do, but that's not fair. Fitness is super gendered in ways that mean women don't tend to train in ways that would get them to pull-ups.
Now, I'm not at all saying we should abandon barre and spin for weight lifting. As a joke, Drew and I call it "lady fitness," since it's so silly that there are these types of physical activity seen as just for women (flip side is "guy fitness". But lady fitness is no joke; barre is hard, spin is hard; it's not that lifting is harder, it's just different and gets you to different goals. You don't need those goals, I didn't have them, I didn't train for them, and I couldn't do them. Now I train for them and I can do them, but my first love will always be super intense cardio.
It just drives me crazy, though, that we act like women just can't do something, when the issue is women not training properly because fitness is so gendered (why is everything so gendered?).
I think that my quads and calves were the first part of my body to get strong. My first foray into fitness was running on a treadmill and losing a significant amount of weight as a young teenager (15, I guess). Then I got into dance and kept running. I had really strong legs. Then I injured my back in college and got it back to healthy with Pilates. I got obsessed with the reformer, specifically. When I moved to DC I started doing barre to fill that need. My core got crazy strong; I think my core strength is the most remarkable thing about my fitness profile.
But my upper-body? Terrible. I couldn't even really do push-ups. Barre had a push-ups and weights section, but I never seemed to get stronger. I also didn't necessarily care all that much. At the time fitness was primarily a fun way to not blow up like a balloon (since the other option, eating less frozen yogurt, clearly isn't fun).
Then I got into aerial, and while you don't need much upper-body strength when you start, if you get serious you do. Especially if you get serious about something aside from flying. While basing involves a lot of core strength, my arms (well, back, chest, biceps, triceps, and shoulders) were/are my limiting factor. And they still weren't getting stronger. I resolved a few times to really work on pull-ups, but I never saw any progress.
It's not entirely fair to make it sound like one day I just could do pull-ups. I made some serious changes (that I am just now finally getting to writing about; sorry), but I wasn't focused on pull-ups and I didn't expect to get them so quickly. First, Drew and I did the Gamma round of Focus T25; Shaun T (best known for Insanity) does amazing cardio, but Gamma was his first really strength focused workouts. Then we did Insanity Max 30 (which is probably my favorite workout series ever), and it has strength workouts built into the schedule. They were still cardio-ish, so they were fun, but I actually got stronger. There is an odd tricep focus in them, and all of a sudden I can do tricep pushups. I never could do good ones even on my knees, even though in barre you do them every class.
I wanted to get stronger for specific aerial goals, so I asked Drew to create a regime that would focus on strength but would keep cardio (so I don't go crazy; must have cardio). He reviews and describes it here. The main ingredient is Sagi's Beachbody series called Body Beast. It's all about lifting heavy; there are drop sets and super sets and giant sets, and I sort of feel like a bro when I do it. I don't love the misogynist comments that come up (there are no women in the series, and Sagi will say things like "this is not the girly workout" or derogatorily call one of the guys "barbie"), but I was inspired by the Dumbbells and Diapers blogger. I figured, what's the worst that could happen?
And the answer is, I'd suddenly be able to do pull-ups. On the one hand, this is exciting, but on the other hand it kind of makes me angry. Pull-ups, for whatever reasons, have this reputation as being nearly impossible for women to do, but that's not fair. Fitness is super gendered in ways that mean women don't tend to train in ways that would get them to pull-ups.
Now, I'm not at all saying we should abandon barre and spin for weight lifting. As a joke, Drew and I call it "lady fitness," since it's so silly that there are these types of physical activity seen as just for women (flip side is "guy fitness". But lady fitness is no joke; barre is hard, spin is hard; it's not that lifting is harder, it's just different and gets you to different goals. You don't need those goals, I didn't have them, I didn't train for them, and I couldn't do them. Now I train for them and I can do them, but my first love will always be super intense cardio.
It just drives me crazy, though, that we act like women just can't do something, when the issue is women not training properly because fitness is so gendered (why is everything so gendered?).
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
And you never know 'til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb./ There's a fine, fine line between love/And a waste of time.
Man, it's been so long since I just adored a list book. It's such a wonderful feeling, discovering a book through this that I'd never have read otherwise, and then just falling in love with it. Lucy Gault broke a long streak of "meh."
It sort of reminded me of Ian McEwan, whom I adore. Like many McEwan's, it's about how a moment, a small choice, a small mistake, can have huge, life-altering implications and can lead to just absolute devastation. The book is interested in how love fails and how people cope with and are shaped by guilt.
I'm also fascinated by books by adults for adults that involve children and children's inner worlds. It's so interested to compare these to books for children. There's some type of literature course here, I'm sure, on that topic.
Anyway, some favorite quotes:
"It's no good, loving one another"
"Why isn't it?"
"I'm not someone to love."
"Oh, Lucy, you are! If only you know how much you are!"
It was Bridget who had told him how his daughter's limp had lessened with the years and how a stoicism had developed in her as a child when those same years failed her, how faith had still been kept, love shattered.
Hers was a different allocation of time and circumstances from her mother's, from her father's. She could not pretend.
It sort of reminded me of Ian McEwan, whom I adore. Like many McEwan's, it's about how a moment, a small choice, a small mistake, can have huge, life-altering implications and can lead to just absolute devastation. The book is interested in how love fails and how people cope with and are shaped by guilt.
I'm also fascinated by books by adults for adults that involve children and children's inner worlds. It's so interested to compare these to books for children. There's some type of literature course here, I'm sure, on that topic.
Anyway, some favorite quotes:
"It's no good, loving one another"
"Why isn't it?"
"I'm not someone to love."
"Oh, Lucy, you are! If only you know how much you are!"
It was Bridget who had told him how his daughter's limp had lessened with the years and how a stoicism had developed in her as a child when those same years failed her, how faith had still been kept, love shattered.
Hers was a different allocation of time and circumstances from her mother's, from her father's. She could not pretend.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Big girls don't fly
In doubles/duo static trapeze, like most duo circus acts, you have a flyer and a base for each trick/pose (some tricks are dynamic, but mostly are hitting a specific pose). The base's job is to be strong and in control. The base is supporting the flyer's weight to varying degrees depending on the trick. The flyer's job is to be light, tight, and trusting of their base.
The basic example I always give is of the base in a catch-lock (similar to a knee-hang but more secure) hanging from the bar by their legs, with a fly hanging from the base's hands in an inverted split.
In a given act, partners can switch roles, but usually one person is the flyer and the other the base, at least generally. And usually, the smaller person is the flyer.
When I first started static doubles, I mostly based. This was for a number of reasons.
So, fine, I'm not fat. But I'm also not petite. I have curves (as my chiropractor once said, my hips would be great for popping out babies). Circus has plenty of tiny women, so when I partner with women I often get to base.
Then, Drew and I started doing doubles together. He's taller and weighs more, but not by much on either, so I can base him and sometimes do. We're working on a routine right now where I'm the base in one of the fancier moves, even. However, I am smaller and he is stronger and static is a decently gendered activity, so I mostly fly anymore.
On the one hand, this often terrifies me. Working on inversions takes a lot of steeliness from me (Mandy often says that I'm tough, and I guess maybe I am, but it doesn't really feel that way), but I keep trying.
On the other hand, it helps me tremendously that Drew is my base, since I trust him so much. There are things we do together that I really can't imagine trusting anyone else enough to base (except our instructor). I can see that for some couples partner acts would not be a good idea, but for us it works really well (even if I sometimes feel bad that I'm the weak link in our act and I know that I'm slowing him down).
I still often feel too big to fly, but I'm slowly getting past that piece, too. At first it was really hard to actually give Drew my full weight (it's weird that it made me self-conscious, but it definitely did), and I'm over that now. I'd love to end this post triumphantly saying that I'm over these issues generally and I'm comfortable as the flyer now, but I'm really not. It's a work in progress. Circus has been so many things to me, and one is a safe (albeit scary) place to work on body image demons, and to work to see my body primarily as functional and strong.
The basic example I always give is of the base in a catch-lock (similar to a knee-hang but more secure) hanging from the bar by their legs, with a fly hanging from the base's hands in an inverted split.
In a given act, partners can switch roles, but usually one person is the flyer and the other the base, at least generally. And usually, the smaller person is the flyer.
When I first started static doubles, I mostly based. This was for a number of reasons.
- I'm pretty strong
- I don't like inversions; the flyer has the scarier job generally
- I'm a natural base in that I have a good sense of how to balance my weight and the other person's
- Conversely, I'm not a natural flyer; my instinct isn't to get tight when things get scary and I have trust issues
So, fine, I'm not fat. But I'm also not petite. I have curves (as my chiropractor once said, my hips would be great for popping out babies). Circus has plenty of tiny women, so when I partner with women I often get to base.
Then, Drew and I started doing doubles together. He's taller and weighs more, but not by much on either, so I can base him and sometimes do. We're working on a routine right now where I'm the base in one of the fancier moves, even. However, I am smaller and he is stronger and static is a decently gendered activity, so I mostly fly anymore.
On the one hand, this often terrifies me. Working on inversions takes a lot of steeliness from me (Mandy often says that I'm tough, and I guess maybe I am, but it doesn't really feel that way), but I keep trying.
On the other hand, it helps me tremendously that Drew is my base, since I trust him so much. There are things we do together that I really can't imagine trusting anyone else enough to base (except our instructor). I can see that for some couples partner acts would not be a good idea, but for us it works really well (even if I sometimes feel bad that I'm the weak link in our act and I know that I'm slowing him down).
I still often feel too big to fly, but I'm slowly getting past that piece, too. At first it was really hard to actually give Drew my full weight (it's weird that it made me self-conscious, but it definitely did), and I'm over that now. I'd love to end this post triumphantly saying that I'm over these issues generally and I'm comfortable as the flyer now, but I'm really not. It's a work in progress. Circus has been so many things to me, and one is a safe (albeit scary) place to work on body image demons, and to work to see my body primarily as functional and strong.
Friday, February 13, 2015
Don't run off in the pouring rain/ Don't call me as they call your plane/ Take the hurt out of all the pain
I feel like I owe a progress report, but it's seriously depressing. I have read six books so far this year (on the list, anyway). I've picked up a bit in February compared to January, but considering how bad January was it's a) not saying much and b) not enough to counter the effects. I've read 644 on the list so far. I desperately want to be at 700. I think that would help me psychologically.
That said, I'm super excited because: today I started a third list document to help me on my quest! This is huge, y'all. For years, years now I've been using two lists. One keeps track of all the books and I bold the ones I've read. I use that to help when I'm searching for books. The other is my running list of all the books that I've read. I use that when I want a quick reference for how far I'm at. It's super important to track what I've read, because honestly, at this point there are many I don't remember.
So, what's the purpose of this new list? To keep track of the books that DCPL does not have in their system. At first, tracking that didn't really matter much, since there were so many books to read I could just move along. However, as we get closer to the end of the project I won't be able to do that as much. Starting to find these books will save a lot of pain in the near future. Whenever I buy a book, usually for a trip, I should be buying books that I can't get at the library. This new list will make that easier.
I swear, one day this project will be all about me trying desperately to find a copy of Adjunct: An Undigest for like, years and years.
That said, I'm super excited because: today I started a third list document to help me on my quest! This is huge, y'all. For years, years now I've been using two lists. One keeps track of all the books and I bold the ones I've read. I use that to help when I'm searching for books. The other is my running list of all the books that I've read. I use that when I want a quick reference for how far I'm at. It's super important to track what I've read, because honestly, at this point there are many I don't remember.
So, what's the purpose of this new list? To keep track of the books that DCPL does not have in their system. At first, tracking that didn't really matter much, since there were so many books to read I could just move along. However, as we get closer to the end of the project I won't be able to do that as much. Starting to find these books will save a lot of pain in the near future. Whenever I buy a book, usually for a trip, I should be buying books that I can't get at the library. This new list will make that easier.
I swear, one day this project will be all about me trying desperately to find a copy of Adjunct: An Undigest for like, years and years.
Friday, January 30, 2015
Sometimes love is not enough/ and the road gets tough/ I don’t know why
So, this happened (finally! I have always, always, always dreamed of going to Istanbul).
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Think of all the things/ We've shared and seen/ Don't think about the things/ Which might have been
Happy 2015! Or something. I'm actually in a really bad mood due to a significant back injury (my last few days were supposed to include flying, German wheel, dance trapeze, and flying, and they include a bit of dance trapeze and a lot of bed rest). I'm potentially willing to forgive 2015 if it shapes up immediately. Right now it is on serious probation.
But, let's not forget 2014. So, how did we do?
Well, not terribly, I guess, though also not well, exactly. Once again we hit exactly 100 books. The depressing part of that is I made that about a week before the end of the year, but then rather than reading more books and getting a bit ahead, instead I read a game theory book and some super frivolous non-fiction. Le sigh.
Admittedly, 100 books is not bad (and again, I read more books than that over the year, that's the list books). It's my goal for the year after all, and I should be pleased about meeting the goal. Or something. I think that the issue here is that for awhile I was doing so much better than just meeting the base goal. 2012 I hit 100 in October and then kept going. That's definitely the year I've read the most
That said, man, 2012 was a really rough year for me. 2014 wasn't a great list year, but it was one of my best years. I'm not sure if there is an inverse correlation here, but it's not exactly unrelated, I don't think.
But, let's not forget 2014. So, how did we do?
Well, not terribly, I guess, though also not well, exactly. Once again we hit exactly 100 books. The depressing part of that is I made that about a week before the end of the year, but then rather than reading more books and getting a bit ahead, instead I read a game theory book and some super frivolous non-fiction. Le sigh.
Admittedly, 100 books is not bad (and again, I read more books than that over the year, that's the list books). It's my goal for the year after all, and I should be pleased about meeting the goal. Or something. I think that the issue here is that for awhile I was doing so much better than just meeting the base goal. 2012 I hit 100 in October and then kept going. That's definitely the year I've read the most
That said, man, 2012 was a really rough year for me. 2014 wasn't a great list year, but it was one of my best years. I'm not sure if there is an inverse correlation here, but it's not exactly unrelated, I don't think.
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