Status update: Today I’m Doing Laundry

It’s true, there’s a load or two headed down to the washer this morning.

But actually, the point is not to tell you it’s laundry day, but rather to get something off my chest.

I’m all about keeping a to-do list, but am I the only person who finds it silly to post your daily to-do’s as your status on Facebook?  It leads me to think one of three things about this person:

1) You are a celebrity and your agent requires you to broadcast your life on Facebook no matter what.

2) You are so self-important that you think people care about what you do all day. Every day.  This could apply regardless of whether or not you are a celebrity.

3) You have nothing of importance going on in your life, and/or are so disorganized that doing laundry and eating breakfast is an important event and saying so on Facebook helps you keep yourself together on a number of levels.

artful laundry

Here’s the thing: Silence is golden.  I don’t care when President Obama himself does laundry.  Save the good stuff for Facebook, like having babies and graduating from college.

Exception: If, in fact, you can’t help yourself and have to broadcast your daily routine to invite adoration of your mundane life, doing so through pictures with a retro filter is always acceptable.

By the way…

Maybe you already know that I have another blog, but if not, I have another blog!  Art Intercepts is my main squeeze, with a dance focus, and I’ve entered it in Dance Advantage’s Top Dance Blog Contest.  My success in moving on to the next phase of the contest is based on number of comments, so I’d really appreciate your help!  All you have to do is visit this post and add a comment (Not this post, THIS POST).  You only have until Tues, 1/22 to comment, And, thanks!

A travel oddity…

I’ve been through the airport lots of times.  I know exactly what I can and cannot bring on an airplane.  I’ve read all the signs at security.  I have a variety of 1 oz. samples of toothpaste and shampoo that all fit in my resealable plastic bag.  I’ve got carry-on organization and metal-free airport fashion down to a science.  But a recent flight to Charlotte en route to Florida was the first time I’ve ever seen this:


Huh?  How come old people don’t have to take off their shoes?  Does TSA fear they’ll fall over and break a hip, holding up the line even further?  What makes them think seniors aren’t just as capable of hijacking a plane as I am?  Does anyone else see the injustice in this?  I’m all for respecting my elders, but airport rules should be ubiquitously enforced.

Someone incapable of removing his/her shoes probably shouldn’t be flying anyway…

There’s more than corn in Elkhart, IN

Having previously stopped in Elkhart, IN on the way to Cleveland, I wasn’t exactly needing a reason to go there again.  But with excitement rising for my pending trip to the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally this August, and the promise of lower sales tax in the great state of Indiana, it was only natural to make a stop-off at the Hoosier Harley store.

Elkhart, my friends, does not disappoint (insert rolled eyes here).  Aside from being ignored entirely by every employee in the Harley shop, the marquee sign includes a lovely Bible quote along with the store hours.  Next to the shop is Lucky’s donuts.  that also serves Thai food.  The biker dudes, bible verses, coconut curry / donut smell wafting from Lucky’s, all combined with a full half mile of fast food restaurants and a Wal-Mart made for what I consider to be the ultimate Midwestern small town experience.  And now that I’ve described it for you, you don’t need to go there.

Cool as a cucumber

Who am I kidding?

Life has gotten a little overwhelming these days, and so has my cucumber patch.  Back in July I planted two cute little cucumber plants, that have proceeded to take over the rock in front of them (meant to divert them from growing into the grass, the fence, the neighbor’s side of the fence, and a big lady statue that came with the house.  As a result, we’ve been eating cucumbers every day since late July and making lots, and lots, and lots of pickles.  Basically, friends and family can expect pickles as  Solstichristmakwanzukah gifts and we will still have enough to get us through the winter.

I’d love to say that I’m thriving in the excitement of the 58 hours of work, home renovations (we plastered and painted BOTH bedrooms last weekend), and part-time freelance dance gigs.  Generally speaking, I crave a busy schedule and function better when I have plenty of things to occupy my head space. 

But I think last week I realized what my limits are.  When you can’t find the time to go to the dentist, brush your hair, or feed your cats, maybe it’s become a bit too much. 

If I’m to be my best self, all the time, I’m going to have to figure out what the balance is between busy and TOO busy.

I guess you have to experience the extremes before you can find that sweet spot where you have enough things on your plate to feel important, but also enough time and energy to putts around at home and pick cucumbers.

Two doors in two days

This is not my bike.

I received such generous support on my Facebook post yesterday regarding one idiot driver who perceived the bike lane on Halstead St. as a free ticket to exit his vehicle without looking in the side mirror.  I mean, it’s not like bikes ride in the bike lane anyway.

Let me recreate the scenario:

I’m riding through Greektown during the lunch hour (against better judgement).

Car driver X opens his door at the precise moment I’m passing his car.

I swerve.

He continues to get out of his car.

I yell. “Jesus!”

He mutters “…sorry…”


I’d like to emphasize that the ellipses and all lowercase letters are meant to indicate the relaxed, nonchalant tone with with the driver responded.  Awesome.  However, I lived to ride again – and today I was decked head to toe in electric green.  This afternoon, as I was riding home on Diversey a lady opened her door on me.

Let me recreate the scenario:

I’m riding West on Diversey wearing an electric green jersey, neon blue and green flowered helmet, matching sunglasses, and bright red shoes, with my super bright “Mr Blinky” light turned on.

Car driver Y opens her door at the precise moment I’m passing her car.

I swerve.

She continues to get out of her car.

I yell. “Jesus!!!!      Lady!!!”

She mutters, “I saw you….”

Okay.  Look: 

*steps on soap box*

Bike lanes occasionally have bikes riding down them.  Look in your mirror.  Roads without bike lanes also occasionally have bikes riding down them.  If you look in your mirror and see a bike coming, don’t get out of the car.  Count to two, and let the bleeping bike pass.

I’m not a bike messenger.  I’m not even a hipster.  I’m just a girl who doesn’t have her own car, doesn’t want to pay for the bus, and likes to get a little exercise from time to time.

My very life is in your hands, drivers.

Share the road.

*steps down from soap box*


Zen and the Art of Reno

I knew that renovating a home wasn’t going to be easy, and at times that it wasn’t even going to be fun. What I wasn’t prepared for was the emotional highs and lows of living there while it was going on. I suppose I’ve adjusted fine to living in a chaotic environment (from a lady who thrives on routine), but to exist in one in which I don’t see progress is frustrating. Plus, all the things I usually do to relieve stress, like knit, or workout, or cook, aren’t possible because the things I need to do those things are either still in boxes or covered with a tarp, or dust, or both. Awesome.

But here’s the uplifting point in this mild rant: this week our new place is still dusty and still chaotic and still under construction, but we are starting to see progress. In renos and in life, progress is important. You can deal with a lot as long as you feel like today was a day that you got closer to your goal.