Adieu

I haven't completely abandoned this blog, I promise.

But, I got my first "pro blogging" job, and am now blogging about all things yoga at http://yogabellystudio.com/blog/.

Come visit! Once things calm down a bit I'll be back.

Manifesto of Encouragement:

by Danielle LaPorte
Right now:
There are Tibetan Buddhist monks in a temple in the Himalayas endlessly reciting mantras for the cessation of your suffering and for the flourishing of your happiness.
Someone you haven't met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.
Someone is writing a book that you will read in the next two years that will change how you look at life.
Nuns in the Alps are in endless vigil, praying for the Holy Spirit to alight the hearts of all of God's children.
A farmer is looking at his organic crops and whispering, "nourish them."
Someone wants to kiss you, to hold you, to make tea for you. Someone is willing to lend you money, wants to know what your favourite food is, and treat you to a movie. Someone in your orbit has something immensely valuable to give you -- for free.
Something is being invented this year that will change how your generation lives, communicates, heals and passes on.
The next great song is being rehearsed.
Thousands of people are in yoga classes right now intentionally sending light out from their heart chakras and wrapping it around the earth.
Millions of children are assuming that everything is amazing and will always be that way.
Someone is in profound pain, and a few months from now, they'll be thriving like never before. They just can't see it from where they're at.
Someone who is craving to be partnered, to be acknowledged, to ARRIVE, will get precisely what they want -- and even more. And because that gift will be so fantastical in it's reach and sweetness, it will quite magically alter their memory of angsty longing and render it all "So worth the wait."
Someone has recently cracked open their joyous, genuine nature because they did the hard work of hauling years of oppression off of their psyche -- this luminous juju is floating in the ether, and is accessible to you.
Someone just this second wished for world peace, in earnest.
Someone is fighting the fight so that you don't have to.
Some civil servant is making sure that you get your mail, and your garbage is picked up, that the trains are running on time, and that you are generally safe. Someone is dedicating their days to protecting your civil liberties and clean drinking water.
Someone is regaining their sanity. Someone is coming back from the dead. Someone is genuinely forgiving the seemingly unforgivable. Someone is curing the incurable.

You. Me. Some. One. Now.

Wanted:

-Housekeeper

-Laundry Fairy

Just sayin'.

Check, Double-Check

January and February are always crazy. In three weeks, my cousin, Honey, mom, step-dad, and two brothers all have birthdays. Not to mention I always forget to order my planner (which MUST be the Moleskin pocket calendar, and not any other planner which obviously won't do the job) in time for the new year, and must spend the first few weeks of January managing my schedule via post it notes and index cards crumpling in the depths of my purse.

But. I'm always. So. MOTIVATED! in January.

We spent the last two weekends tearing out the pathetic excuse for a "lawn" that we had (really, it was more of a mud hole), and reclaiming the yard as best we could, considering that neither one of us has much of a green thumb, and we've already gone through two "reclaim the garden" phases, which lasted maybe a weekend or so, and then went back to total crap.

I'm just not my mother. Why fight it. I hate weeding. And though I tried my damn-dest last summer, the squirrels got everything except for a few grape-size tomatoes and one red pepper, which was maybe the size of a golf ball and somehow quite tough.

So, we came to terms with the following:

-We basically suck at gardening

-We don't have much time for it, and don't want to spend much time pulling weeds

-We don't get much sunlight out there thanks to the huge tree hanging over most of the yard

-The squirrels here have clearly been genetically engineered beyond their fears of cats and/or infuriated women screaming and waving shovels at them.

Considering all of the above, the mud hole seems like a reasonable option. But, when coupled with the following:

-We genuinely love being outside and really do enjoy the garden, when it's nice

-We don't want to simply dump a bunch of chemicals out there or trap animals or do other mean things

Answer (So far, at least): Enter the rock garden.

Or, the whatever garden. It's not really a "Japanese" garden at all, I thought maybe I'd get in touch with my Korean roots and try for a traditional Korean garden, but instead of reading books and drawing plans and all that, we just looked at a few pictures online, and, 14 bags of gravel later, we're sitting out there with our laptops, watching the cats spy on the new fish.

It's actually quite lovely. Gardens really are one of life's simple pleasures (or, not-so-simple pleasures, if you're more dedicated than I am). And, so far, no weeds!

New

I don't really think in terms of "resolutions," but I do think in terms of "new." New things to try. New things to learn. New places to go.

-Take a Russian class

-Learn to do a handstand

-Do the splits (the yoga way, not the cheerleader way)

-Make my own noodles (Italian and Asian)

-Finish my book

-Start a real garden

-Dress up more

-Take an online course at Yale

-Switch to 100% organic cleaning products

-WRITE MORE

-Get at least 3 more stamps in my passport

-Read 50 books by Nobel-prize-winning authors

-Write more letters to my grandparents (at least once a month)

One solid new rule: No more watching TV during dinner. We are going to be civilized and connected in this house and it starts at the table, dammit!

Vaguer things to keep in mind, rather than check off a list:

-Patience

-Conscience

-Discipline

-Empathy

-Humility

-Spontaneity

I want to be: smart, good, strong, grounded, and fun. Sassy and fancy and ready for sun.

Gasp

This is just stunning. Hello, Winter Wonderland.

Recent Excitement

Three of my fiction students asked me if they could "talk me into" teaching them a private class. An advanced fiction workshop.

These students are currently publishing. I mean, they know a thing or two about craft, and frankly, I didn't know how much they'd get out of my class in the first place.

But apparently, they liked it! And I am just GIDDY coming up with the readings for this class... I'm thinking a mix of theory, craft, readings, and some good ol' fashioned workshop.

Eeeeeeek!!

What We're Having Tonight:

Errr, what we had Friday night.

There are about a million ways to make this dish, but this is the one I make 9 times out of 10. It's one of my favorite winter recipes, that only requires a handful of fresh ingredients so you can throw it together at a moments notice, and, for those of us from small towns in Northern California, tastes like home.

Posole: Feeds 6-8

Ingredients:

-Pork chops, cubed (I used about a pound)

-Shredded cabbage (I just get the bag from TJs)

-Julienned radishes (Skip this if you're not up to dicing tiny veggies)

-One large yellow onion, chopped

-2 28-oz cans white hominy, drained

-1 3-oz can diced green chilies, drained (as hot as you like)

-1 28-oz can diced tomatoes (the authentic version would omit these, but I try to squeeze in a few extra veggies)

-4-8 cloves of garlic, diced

-4 cups chicken stock (even at my laziest, homemade stock is worth it. I mean come on the soup practically comes straight from the pantry.)

-Olive oil

-Salt and pepper to taste

-Chile de arbol to taste

Directions:

-In a large dutch oven, saute the onion and garlic in olive oil over a medium flame until soft. Add the pork and cook until brown, about ten minutes. Add the green chiles and stir to combine. Sprinkle with chile de arbol, salt, and pepper.

-Add the hominy, tomatoes, and stock. Bring the soup to a boil for ten minutes.

-While the soup is boiling, fill bowls with a loose handful of the shredded cabbage and chopped radishes. Ladle the soup over the cabbage and radishes, let sit for a minute or two until the cabbage wilts. Serve with sour cream, lime wedges, and avocado, chopped cilantro if you're feeling fancy.

Candlelight Thoughts:

Happy Hanukkah, to those who celebrate.

I sometimes think it's unfortunate that Hanukkah and Christmas fall so close together on the calendar. Hanukkah is a minor holiday, and yet sometimes it seems to get a LOT of attention and fanfare (I'm writing this shortly after finding a lighted spinning dreidel lawn ornament and BB&B) for no other reason than to show Christmas what's up.

Well. That's not my battle. We just have a simple menorah, a few dreidels, and a handful of gelt. But the simplicity is welcome at this chaotic time of year: what better way to spend the darkest nights of the year, than gathering with your loved ones and marveling at their faces in the candlelight?

Hanukkah is not meant to compete with Christmas. It's quiet, simple, just a slight departure from the norm. But it is lovely. Right when most people are frazzled with lists, wrapping, and breaking the bank, we get to lie back, order crab meat cheese wontons, and pretend it's snowing.

And, can I just say, if it were to compete with Christmas, Hanukkah would definitely win the decorations award. Blue and silver look way better than red and green. I mean, come on.

Waiting...

... for E to finish his conference call so we can finish The Wire episode that is paused right at what is probably the MOST EXCITING MOMENT!!

Well. I've been meaning to write anyway.

I've never been that "in" to the holidays. I mean, I loved them, and loved making things for my loved ones and taking time to visit with family. But they always seemed to fly by in a flurry of late nights, pricked fingers, and stacks of cards I always meant to respond to. I think I resisted some of the obligation that comes with the holidays.

The last few years, that has changed. Oddly. You would think, as a new wife, I would feel even more obligated to do things like send handwritten cards and bake mini pumpkin pies for my husband to take to work. And, because I resist obligation (it's always suspicious), you would think I'd get a little more Scrooge-ier than ever.

Oh. That and the fact that I don't even technically celebrate Christmas anymore. It's Hanukkristmas. Or Christmukkah. Whatevs.

But actually, it has been the opposite. A few years ago, we started hosting "The Great Day After Thanksgiving ______." (We never finished the name, "party" wasn't quite right, E thinks "game night" is lame, we just call it "Day After Thanksgiving Night). And I am SO excited. I think maybe because now E's friends are starting to feel a little more like my own, and our families are not as new to each other, because we're one year further into our own little groove as a new, budding family.

That's right. Family. Holy mother!

I don't mean that in the 'guess-what-I'm-pregnant' way. I just mean it in the 'we're-in-this-together' way. The fact that we're beyond our 'let's go our separate ways for the holidays and I'll see you on New Years' phase. I guess we passed that a few years ago, but we're also just far enough along to be able to look back fondly on the years behind us, and have a few traditions of our own, and we're not too far along that we can't remember anything, or have time to sit around the tree in the dark, sharing a mug of tea, twisting our fingers together under a blanket.

I think the time between newlywed-dom and parenthood is a very special time. It is, for the time being, delicious. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now if he could just get down here so I can get some snuggles with my eggnog and finish this freaking episode!! I mean, can you believe what happened to Dee?

Travel Plans: Thailand

Oh. Em. Gee.

We booked our tickets last night, it's official. We're going to Thailand. For three weeks.

Actually, the trip will include Tokyo, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam.

It hasn't quite hit me yet.

It will be the longest plane ride of my life, to date. 19 hours and 40 minutes. I'm looking into getting cryogenically frozen and thawed in Tokyo.

Color me ECSTATIC!!!

Holiday Blues

Don't get me wrong, I'm feeling the festivities. Third annual DATN invites are out.

And I do look forward to it, even though I won't make it out to Georgia this year... the lovely lady in purple is graduating in May, so we'll be going then.

I hate having family thousands of miles away!!

Wednesday Writing

Spent yesterday afternoon in a coffee shop with two of my "students," who have published way more than I have, and who are older than my parents.

It was such an awesome time. They were kind enough to read the excerpt of my novel that I'm sending the agent, and they know next to nothing about me, so it was great to hear about what was going through their minds as they were reading.

I have a lot to think about, writing wise. Figuring out the "occasion for the story" is never my strong point, 99 times out of 100, it was because I had a deadline. Now, I don't. And even if I did, that's a shitty occasion. I really have to think about it. Writing is a lot like problem solving, and in my own work, I have a hard time seeing the problems. Once I do, it's usually pretty easy for me to find the solution, and fix it, even if the only feedback I get is abstract (oh, Workshop, did you think I'd forget so soon?!), and along the lines of "putting pressure on the moment," "pushing this further," "peeling this back." Somehow, that jargon makes sense to me, and I can run with it.

But, I've never written a novel before. It's so hard to manage. I'm starting to agree more and more with James' definition of when a short story becomes a novel: when it becomes a "baggy monster."

In other news, my favorite/ brightest/ most eager HS student (not that I have favorites) is starting an independent study with me. We're reading the entire collection of Updike's edition of The Best American Short Stories of the Century and we're hoping to finish by 2011. Wheeeee!!!!

xoxo,

T

Dream Hair:

I always get the urge to change my hair in the fall. I'm not usually a fan of dyed/ highlighted/ permed hair, but for this, I just might change my tune. It's not much darker than my natural color, so maybe I could avoid the frizz/ roots/ fake look... or just lose my mind entirely and actually dye my hair.

PS: Could you tell this is Drew Barrymore?!

Monday: Wish I Were Here

At a party. Outside, in the sunshine, wearing a flippy skirt and laughing up at the sky. Preferably in a location that requires a passport for me to get there.

News, in a nutshell:

-Travel plans firming up: Looks like I'll be in Israel for Valentine's day

-I officially have no weekends until March. Whee.

-Nearly finished piecing the top of my first quilt. Pics to follow.

xoxo!

The Fever

Sometimes, I tell you. Gah.

Deborah Eisenberg...

...said, "I can't teach you how to write a story. You already know."

*Gasp*Gasp*Gasp*

Writing: On Community

Positively buzzing after tonight's reading.

Yiyun Li, writer extraordinaire, who I was lucky enough to study under, who taught me a couple hard lessons about fiction, read tonight at the independent bookstore down the street.

Biography

Yiyun Li grew up in Beijing and came to the United States in 1996. Her stories and essays have been published in The New Yorker, Best American Short Stories, O Henry Prize Stories, and elsewhere. She has received fellowships and awards from Lannan Foundation and Whiting Foundation. Her debut collection, A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, won the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, PEN/Hemingway Award, Guardian First Book Award, and California Book Award for first fiction; it was also shortlisted for Kiriyama Prize and Orange Prize for New Writers. Her novel, The Vagrants, won the gold medal of California Book Award for fiction. She was selected by Granta as one of the 21 Best Young American Novelists under 35, and was named by The New Yorker as one of the top 20 writers under 40. MacArthur Foundation named her a 2010 fellow. She is a contributing editor to the Brooklyn-based literary magazine, A Public Space. She lives in Oakland, California with her husband and their two sons, and teaches at University of California, Davis.

I gathered up all my serious students and told them she would change their lives. We sat and listened to her read from her new book. We sucked in our breath when she paused and got goosebumps. We heard her read a story we had all read before and walked away with a completely different impression than we had before. I nearly cried. I hugged her and she signed my book and misspelled my name and I asked about her kids and she told me about the call she got from J's kindergarden teacher and I told her about the time G said she had a sperm donor not a dad and we laughed and I missed school and workshop so, so much.

Then, a bunch of my students went out for dinner and we talked about the story and the amazing experience of hearing an author read (when it's a good reader) and our own struggles with our work and how inspiring it is to hold hands with this little writing community, how rare it is to talk over a plate of taquitos and enchilladas, and be able to explain your delight at the way two images speak when situated next to each other correctly, and the way certain words can pull you out of a story and others can push you right back in, and the way sometimes another voice entirely takes over, and it's impossible to go back and edit thoughtfully without thinking you might be just a little bit crazy. We laughed. The youngest of us was 17 and the oldest was 66. We shared our favorite stories, exercises, and classes. We compared battle scars. We collectively wondered why, of all the things we could be doing with our lives, we are so compelled to write.

It was an amazing night. After grad school, I lost such a huge sense of my community: everyone thinks they're a writer, and sometimes they are, but it's so nice to be able to exchange work with people who actually feel the same way about writing that I do: it's not fun, it's not therapeutic, it is simply necessary for my existence.

Best Halloween Costume, Ever...

... just to see you smile!

Monday: Balance

That's my dedication this week.

In my yoga class, every week the class begins with a dedication (this week, it's humility) and then we're all supposed to think about our own dedications as well.

So, mine is balance, for a few reasons:

1) I hurt my shoulder Sunday night in a failed attempt at the Scorpion pose (and E really doesn't know how to spot), and

2) Life is feeling both really amazing and incredibly crappy right now.

For the following reasons:

1) I just signed six new students, which significantly ups our income and gives me more faith in myself as an educator and a business woman,

2) I am polishing the first 50 pages of my manuscript to give to an agent next week, and

3) Because of #1, I no longer am panicking about my career choice and have the luxury of time to really think things over. Also, because I'm no longer panicking, I'm no longer a walking ball of stress snapping at E over things like cupboards left open or happy hours scheduled without my explicit consent and a signed contract.

4) My yoga teacher worked out an arrangement where I get to practice as much as I want for free (normally it's $18 a class, homie don't play that game) and I'm feeling really good and strong and I'm able to do things now that I couldn't do a month ago.

But, some of that is balanced by this:

5) Nephew is having serious behavior problems at school. Sister switched him to a new school and thinks that will solve the problem, meanwhile I am stressing about a situation I have no control over and questioning decisions that are not mine to make.

6) Our weekends are basically non-existent until March because E has class on Saturdays, and because of this, I picked up more weekend students (see item #1).

7) I am feeling too far from home and like I'm not being there for my sister and the kids when I need to be.

8) I am really wrestling with this book and I have spent so much time with it that I can't tell the crap from the gems and I want to get another pair of eyes on it but a pair of eyes is hard to find because I need to find someone who a) knows nothing about my real life and therefore cannot fill in the blanks of my crappy writing with any sense of my autobiography, b) knows a thing or two about how to fix a MS, and c) has the time and energy to seriously look at 50 pages now and 175 in a month or so.

Gah.

So, yes. This week, balance. The kind that involves feet up a wall and not falling on a shoulder, and the kind that involves putting energy toward things in my sphere of influence, and not wasting energy on things beyond my control or things that should be beyond my control, and are not.