03 August 10
My mother is a home-owner
It took until she was just shy of 60, almost got derailed due to yet one more divorce-related finance issue, but she did it. Despite all of her struggles and trials and setbacks, my mother now owns 3 acres of land and a small 3 bedroom house. There’s a lot of work that needed to be done to it (the previous rental tenants had left it full of flea-ridden carpets and junk), but there is a lot of work that we got done in the 3 full days I was out there. Thankfully I was able to take some time off to head out and help her get some grunt work (painting, spackling, carpet-tack removing, closet-rod hanging) done so she could focus on the much harder task of trying to figure out where all of her stuff should go now.
Not only did she wake up every day around 5am and start going non-stop until 10pm (whereas I got out of bed around 8am and one day 9:30am), but she did it all without melting down. Moving is stressful, anxiety-ridden, and emotional. Moving into your first home during a process that got sped up more than you expected is even more emotional. But I think I provided a little levity that helped things go smoother. And I offered some advice about some of the things that she was less sure about, but I could help with.
One of her concerns was that they would have to replace the windows because the frames looked very weather-beaten. And from the outside I can see why she was nervous. But I realized that the part that looks in bad shape is the storm windows on one half of the house, whereas the movable windows are in great shape. So she’s going to try some weather-stripping on a few that seem a little loose, wait one winter, and hopefully be able to keep the original windows that were handmade by the original owner.
She got some great history on the house, and I didn’t have time to read it all, but the land (3 acres, more than half of which is covered in walnut trees) was purchased in 1948. The couple built a two-room shack with a two-seater outhouse and moved into it. The front room was the kitchen and the back room was the living area. They lived in this while they built the main house themselves. Once they had finished the main house and moved into it, the original dwelling was converted into storage and chicken coop. Since my mom has a few chickens, she was able to make use of this space quite nicely.
There is quite a lot of work (and I promised my mom that I wouldn’t put up pictures of the inside until it is closer to done) that still needs to be done to the inside. Floors need to be refinished, but thankfully the horrifically ugly shag carpeting was protecting the original wood floors that had never been stained or varnished. Since they’re in great shape, we looked into what it would be seal them and the cost is so much better than the wall-to-wall carpet they assumed they needed, that they’re going to keep the floors uncovered. The kitchen floor is just linoleum tile, so we’re hoping that we can just remove the tile and keep the sub-floor undamaged so we can lay new and much nicer linoleum tile down. The rest of the work is unpacking, curtain hanging, painting, and general cleaning. If I’d had a few more days, I would have started on the floor sealing myself. But it just means I’ll have to plan a future visit to help her with that.
The outside of the house and the garage, garden shed, chicken coop, and yard need a lot of work as well. Thankfully a riding lawn-mower was purchased and my younger brother has been over almost every day bagging up trimmed limbs and discarded bushes and mowing and raking and generally getting a lot of work done to the outside of the house. How he has managed to do as much as he has while working full-time, taking care of his kids, and sleeping I have no idea. (Notice the theme of my family members making me look lazy? Oy!)
But despite all the “fixin’up” that needs to get done, this new place is going to make quite a nice homestead. Mom talked briefly about how this was the type of house she always wanted to have for us kids to come back to and for her grandkids to visit her in. And even though the disorganization brought her close to tears* at several points, in just 3 short days she was able to turn the house into a home. And by the time, I left, it did indeed feel like a home. A sparsely decorated home, but a home. It felt good, comforting, loved, warm. It felt right. It made me happy.
I told my mom that getting to help her move into her first owned home, and hopefully her last-ever home on my birthday was a gift to me. Knowing that she has been able to fulfill a dream she’s had for longer than she’s had me, getting to hear her talk about all of the things they can do to make the home even better, getting to see her walk the outline of her future garden, watching as she pointed out various plants and talked about how she would adjust things to suit her taste and restore the home and yard to it’s former glory, not only hearing but feeling the pride in her voice as she talked about her home, was a huge blessing. It’s just a house. It’s just a place to keep your stuff and sleep at night. But for my mom, it’s proof that her decades of sacrifice and saying “someday” have finally paid off. It’s proof that she’s won out over adversity. It makes me smile just remembering her standing in her back yard as I drove away. It makes me a little sad that I can’t visit it every day, but I know I’ll appreciate every visit home just a little bit more now. And it reminds me what I’ve always known. My mom is where my home is, even though I’m all grown up, even though I own my own home, even though I’ll spend just a few nights in this house a year, I’m sure I’ll call this place home. Because my mom is there. And she’s happy.
*At one point on Saturday after a fairly stressful and long day where we both felt like we’d done so much work but had so little improvement in key rooms to show for it, I moved everything away from one corner of the living, set up a table and a lamp in the corner as she’d said she wanted to. Then I made my mother stand with her back to the clutter and disarray and boxes, instructed her to put her hands up to her face like horse-blinders and look at the corner of the room. She was trying not to sound irritated as she said “What am I looking at?” I told her that she was looking at a corner of a finished living room. And if she could just focus on that, she’d be able to get the rest done. She laughed until she started to cry and then she laughed some more. Sometimes you gotta push people closer to the edge when they’re close in order for them to realize they’re not at the edge and are therefore okay.
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17 July 10
I write like . . .
Taking it old school with a meme today:
04 July 10
I finally got one
I find it very appropriate that I find my first grey hair just weeks before I turn 39. Very appropriate.
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21 March 10
You have an effect on people
And you probably have no clue how much you’ve affected them. In fact you’ve probably affected many people you don’t even remember talking to. I’ve realized how true this is in the last week.
This year at SXSW I was lucky enough to attend a dinner on Friday night called Break Bread for Brad, a play on the previously held Break Bread With Brad. Brad passed away on January 4th and it was great to be surrounded by people drinking Shiner and remembering him in the way he would have remembered us if the tables were turned. And as I stood at one point looking at the hundred-plus people gathered on this outdoor patio at a bar in Austin, Texas, feeling the absence of a man that looms larger than life still for many, I realized that this wasn’t just an opportunity to mourn the passing of one friend. It was also the anniversary of when I “met the internet”. For it was at BBwB in 2005 that I met many of the people on the patio. And as the years continued, I met more and more and more. Almost none of these people were people I’d read before SXSW. The people I read at that time were few and not in the geek-tech crowd.
But meeting these people in person opened up my life, opened up my eyes, opened up my mind. I wish I’d taken an aerial-like photograph so I could give you memories of each person. Recite stories, or relay a joke, or mention something inspirational about each one. Because honestly, there were so many memories packed onto that patio that night. And I remembered thinking that I wish I had time to spend 3 minutes with each of these people thanking them for being around, for being an influence, for being a part of my life, and to let them know I hoped they would be around for many years to come.
But as my time in Austin progressed, as I became focused on the presentation I was due to give on Sunday evening, as I spent all of my time deciding whether I should use this slide or that slide, or if I should order things this way or that way, as I freaked out over having to do something that I really didn’t feel confident doing, (ironic, no?) I talked about feeling uneasy. And it was at this point that emails, text messages, and direct messages and @mentions on Twitter began to come in from people far and wide all over my online and in real life social sphere. These were people wishing me well, telling me they were excited to see it or sorry they couldn’t be there, these were from people telling me that they knew I was going to RAWK my TAWLK. But even then it didn’t click in place that not only was I surrounded by people who have affected me, I was surrounded by people I had affected. That realization didn’t come until my last night of SXSW.
Over the couple of days after I gave my talk, I had several people come up to me and tell me things that gave me goosebumps, made me cry, and shocked me profoundly. People thanked me for letting them know about projects online that they didn’t know existed. Projects whose existence made them feel safer and happier. People thanked me for sharing what I knew, what I’d learned and making them think. People thanked me for opening their eyes. One man even came up to me and told me that my presentation (which he hadn’t planned on attending) changed how he interacted with the rest of the festival. He told me he didn’t expect a white, middle-class, non-techy woman to make him re-think what he wanted from a tech conference, but I did. After my talk he threw away his planned schedule and decided to go to talks that were out of his realm of expertise to see what other new ideas he might have missed out on. And at that point it had worked so far. I had a discussion with a man who asked me if it was okay for him to call himself a feminist because he’d realized after researching independent health care for himself, how unfair insurance was to women. I told him it was encouraged, actually.
And what really blew me away, what really made me stop in my tracks and rethink the effect I had on people, was when several women came up to me and told me face-to-face, that I was their feminist icon. That I was the one who made them recognize that they were feminist, or that I made them realize they could be vocal in public and fight sexist comments, or that I was their feminist inspiration. This shocked me most because I wanted to reply with “No, really this other woman is a much better feminist than I am. You should follow her lead instead.” But I had to realize that without trying to do so, I’d affected people. I’d influenced them, made them feel less alone, made them feel understood. That’s powerful.
The last night we went to a group dinner that was large, but felt small. At one point we were asked if we wanted to get up and say anything to the group, and I didn’t because I didn’t know how to phrase what I was feeling and thinking. But a few days out, I know what I would have liked to have said.
“Every day we walk through life talking to people, writing things, taking photographs, making videos, and cracking jokes. But we rarely stop to realize that this creation affects people, quite possibly people we don’t even know. If I could do one thing right now, it would be to tell Brad how much he affected me and made the world a better, happier, funnier, naughtier place. And I regret that I never told him that. But I can tell all of you that even if you don’t remember my name, it’s quite likely that you have affected me. And I thank you for that. I’m grateful to you. And if I’ve affected you, I want you to know I’m humbled by that knowledge, I’m thrilled in fact. Thank you, and I hope to keep my affect on people positive as much as possible. And I hope that you get the chance to realize how you’ve affected others.”
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05 February 10
Don't Say No to Nikki Lynnette
About a year ago or so, @NikkiLynette added me as a contact on Twitter. I clicked over to her account to vet her before adding her back. I then clicked to her website to see what was there since I was aware that she was a real person. I then proceeded to spend the next hour or so googling her, tracking down MySpace song links, downloading music I found, looking at Google images. Yep, for about 1 hour I became some crazed online stalker and all because I was hooked on her music after listening to a 60-second sample of her song “Now That I’m Fine”.
I began following her back on Twitter, and would occasionally get a dribble of a music soundbyte she would pull out of her archives and I’m happy to brag that I heard an early release of a new tune that still hasn’t dropped. I’m not sure what it is but I’ve been hooked on her music since then and have been waiting very impatiently for her first cd to release. Today I saw that she’d released this video on YouTube and jumped up and down during the video. There’s breakdancing! and the requisite 5-mile-long sexy legs on all the women. But these ladies are not video hos, they’d kick your teeth out of this universe if you called ‘em that.
In September, GapersBlock set up a local music showcase at Metro. It was going to be awesome. I’d suggested Nikki’s group a little too late for them to get the original invite. And when people bailed, I convinced Andrew that he had to consider her. And while I was trying to convince her that she was Awesome Blossom and would Like Totally Rock, she sent him a message via Twitter that she’d love to play in the showcase. And she did.
I think I love that her music is a great blend of hip-hop with some metal influences, and just enough of a pop coating to make it go down easy. It reminds me of some of the hip-hop coming out in the mid-80s that blended different genres together in their sound. That’s when I first got into hip-hop so of course I’m partial to music with that blended sense. And I won’t lie when I say that I loved that Nikki’s lyrics weren’t all smushed out about guys. I love that she’s not afraid to say she’s better than that when you treat her bad. There’s not enough of that coming from women’s voices in hip-hop, hell in music in general, hell! in society. So I gotta support it when I can, you know? I gotta.
Good luck, Nikki.
09 January 10
How does your influence extend
I’m always surprised to meet someone who has heard of me, or knows of something I’ve done. The internet and meeting most of my friends because of it hasn’t changed that. So I have to admit (cause these thoughts are prevalent lately) that I have no idea who all would miss me if I were to die. This isn’t a cry for people to come out of the work and say “ooh, me!”. It’s not a cry for attention, but thank you if that was our instinct.
After reading words written by literally hundreds of people now about Brad Graham and how much he influenced them, even people he never met in person, I’m amazed at how far his reach extended. I think he might have been, too. I’m sure there are a lot of people he remembers meeting briefly, and remembers emailing with. But I know I can’t remember all the people I’ve briefly met or emailed with in the last year, let alone 10. And I’m no where near as popular or prolific as he was.
I think the moral to this story, if there can be one is two-fold. One, you have no idea who you are going to influence or how. Long before I’d met Brad he left a comment on a post I wrote about an uncle. And this stranger just appearing out of nowhere and saying hello and thanking me for having written it was touching and it encouraged me. Even if I’d never met him, I’d have that memory to think about and reflect on how it has stuck with me.
The other moral, is that our words can and probably should live on after us. This writing we do feels so ephemeral and momentary that it may not seem like much. But these pixels we put on CMSs of various types all over the world are the equivalent to previous generations letters, written missives, chap-books, and zines. Even if something were to happen and the family of the creator decided that those words could never be published, we at least have a record that they existed and that record can be stored in a library or a private collection for anthropologists and historians to use in future referencing of materials. But hard drives can be erased, accounts can lapse and be deleted easily.
Thankfully Matt Haughey and several others know enough to figure out how to make sure that at least for the short term Brad’s main writing will continue to appear online, which I imagine is exactly how he would want it. But if he doesn’t have a will, and if his next of kin finds his “hobby” of writing about himself and his life all over the internet distasteful, they have ownership of the information and can delete it at will.
So, your action item, is to think about what you want to happen to your online legacy (yes, even if you only have 3 readers) after you’re gone. I know of someone who has enlisted a friend to post a photograph of her dog everyday for 1 year after she passes away so that at the end of the year, people will be glad to see the crazy dog lady has stopped blogging. I think she underestimates how many people enjoy seeing pictures of her pup. But what would you like to have happen to your online writing?
I know I want mine to stay. I don’t have a will (something I know I need to rectify), but if a blogpost can serve as my legal wish. I want my site to remain as is for as long as technology will allow. I give Andrew Huff rights to all of my writing upon my death. Should something happen to him, I give these rights to Veronica I. Arreola. Should something happen to all of them, I give these rights to my mother. I don’t list my mother first simply because technology isn’t something that is second-nature to her and dealing with her loss of me will be stressful enough.
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07 January 10
Loss
On Monday, while trying to focus at work and while listening to Scissor Sisters (a little Filthy/Gorgeous to be precise), I read online that Brad Graham of BradLands, aka Must See HTTP://, had passed away. I read the post again. I read the link to the few sentences on the St. Louis Today website. I read them again. I tried Google to see if there was any other information available. I returned to Twitter and posted the link and asked if anyone had more information. I refreshed. I refreshed. I saw people begin to answer with “NOOO!”
And then I called the Repertory Theater where Brad worked. I was sobbing at this point. I could hear it in my voice and I couldn’t hide it and I didn’t care. And I honestly thought, “This must be real if I don’t care if a complete stranger will hear that I’ve been crying.”
“I just read on the St. Louis Today website about Brad. I wondered if you had any more information and I’m sorry to be calling you.”
“You what? Where? Oh my. It’s on the website already? We just found out a few hours ago. People are at his house now, they just left a few hours ago. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. We’ll post more info on the website.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry that you’ve lost him.”
And then I cried some more. A lot more.
And I’ve tried to write this, and I’ve deleted it and rewritten and deleted it and I just can’t get over how selfish this all feels. Grief is so self-centered, I’ve realized. Losing a loved one, especially in such a surprising way, just makes you think non-stop about all the things you’ve said and done and laughed at together and you just feel so empty when you realize that great pile of memories will never get any larger. And that’s okay. It’s okay to focus for a while on how your life will never be the same now that this person is gone. It’s okay to remember all the funny (and oh my god were are there a lot) things. And because so many people who knew him, also knew each other online, or at least had small areas of overlap in our personal Venn Diagrams, it’s been easy to read some of these stories with them, and I’ve shared a little, too. And through these stories we all get to add just a bit to the pile of memories that we have of Brad. We get to know him a little bit better through these stories. And even though I’ll never again hear his laugh in person, or watch him smile and wink at Andrew with one eye while looking devilishly to see if I’m watching, or watch him walk up to a complete stranger and make them feel happy and comfortable in 30 seconds flat, I’ll at least have this pile of memories. As long as the Lesser Kudu doesn’t come along and eat them all, I’ll be okay.
01 January 10
A year ago
This was my first post last year. And I think it summarizes how I felt during most of 2009. I was stressed, trying hard to remind myself that I had things to be happy with, feeling like I couldn’t control much of what I disliked about my life and situation, but realizing that I was and am the only person who has control over my outlook. And I know that I can change things that I don’t like, I just don’t know how I want them to change and until I get that part figured out, I can’t proceed.
But some really good things did happen, even if making them happen caused me more stress. And I tried to focus on the good, while recognizing that the bad was affecting me and I did my best to stop the negativity flow when I realized I was experiencing it and look for something positive instead. I didn’t always let it happen that way, but I tried.
And there are some things that I’m very happy about that are coming up this year. Because I’ve worked so much overtime I’m going to be taking a week off in January as soon as I can get this project wrapped up. And then I’m going to work four days a week until I’ve used my that comp time I’ve had accrued since last year since I couldn’t take it all this year. And just having more time to myself will be a good thing and will make it possible for me to work on some web stuff, do more cooking, and maybe eat at Hot Doug’s or Kuma’s on occasion for lunch since I know that getting Andrew to go with me is easy-peasy.
But mostly I have plans of being productive in all of the ways that I enjoy being productive. Seeing pictures of a quilt Carolyn made really inspired me to pull out of storage the quilt I started eons ago and work on it a little bit at a time. I’ve got all the pieces cut out and I’ve got about half of the squares pieced, so I just need to do a lot more piecing (which is going to begin with a lot of pressing) and then I get to figure out what the backing will be and actually turn it into a quilt. Part of why I stopped years ago was because I realized it wasn’t perfect. But I think I can accept that it isn’t perfect now, cause what I really want is to just be able to look at it everyday on my bed and see that I accomplished something huge. And I did it by breaking it down into small bits.
And this is probably the most important lesson I learned about myself this year. When I first started writing a book I was so overwhelmed that I had 4 months to write 300 recipes and about 10,000 words of other material. I couldn’t believe it. It just seemed way too much and there was no way I could do it and whining ensued. And then I thought, “Okay. You’ve got 17 weeks. How much do you have to do each week? How much do you have to do each day?” And when I realized that I only had to write about 3 recipes a day I decided that I could handle that. But only because I broke it down into smaller pieces. And since I did that (although some days I skipped a day which meant that weekends were about catching up and trying to get ahead), since I did the little pieces and I did them consistently, I got the big, overwhelming project done.
So 2009 was all about accomplishing smaller tasks on a consistent basis. I’d like to continue that trend this year with other projects. Projects like: continue writing One Good meal for Gapers Block with a focus on purchasing ingredients from independent grocers who aren’t in my neighborhood, actually write more a few posts a month for Publicious, design a lot of new bags that one may consider a “line”, get the web shop here turned into a real web shop, do something with http://www.cinnamoncooper.com, draw more attention to all the great local small crafting business owners in Chicago via the Chicago Craft Mafia, cook some of the things that still scare me (like French Macaroons, Momofuku’s Steamed Pork Buns, Gnocchi, homemade pasta, and poached eggs), and set aside one day a week at least where I just have fun and don’t worry about being productive. Like Ani Difranco says, I don’t want to forget to have a good time in 2010. And I’m grateful that I know a number of people who will help me do that.
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