A string of entertaining NPR summaries from Merlin Mann's (hotdogsladies) Twitter (in which he confesses that he, too, listens to NPR eight hours a day):
"Prairie Home Companion: a gentle amble through 2 hrs of reminders why most Americans despise poems, theater, and harmonizing in fifths."
"Next 'On the Media:' Bob kicks his slippers at the web for 10 minutes. Because he's definitely not terrified of it. Edited. By. Brook."
"This American Life. Act I. 'Bet You Didn't See THAT Coming.' A Producer. Talks like me. Yo La Tengo. Two unexpected twists. Act II..."
"Later, on All Things Considered, Robert Siegel talks with a water fountain about how bear markets impact the silent objects we drink from."
"Up next on Morning Edition, our new 112-part series from producer, Jay Allison: 'Old Black Ladies Cry While Someone Fingerpicks a Guitar.'"
NPR reminds us how personally rewarding it can be to empathize with interesting poor people for as long as eight minutes.
Ah, it's funny because it's true.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
we're going to get dressed for success
Wedding planning insanity, post number two: the wedding dress
Ah, the wedding dress. It presents something of a wedding planning conundrum. On the one hand, you only wear it for one day. Really only about six hours of that day. On the other hand, you will have pictures hanging in your house and your relatives' houses for all to see of you in that dress for the rest of your life. What is a girl to do?
Well, a girl like me totally lucked out and not only fits into her mother's wedding dress but actually looks pretty good in it (well, once we nixed the puffy sleeves and took out the full skirt and lowered the neckline). But despite the magical moment between mother and daughter, I did still feel a nagging in my brain for the 'wedding dress experience'. I wanted to try on dresses and stand in front of a big mirror with my mom and friends sitting behind me on a couch, getting sentimental when the bridal consultant puts a veil on me.
So while I was home for the past week, I did just that. My friends and I had a total blast at two different bridal shops in the ATL (Kellys' Closet and La Raines), and my mom and I tried to contain our 'how much?!' gasps at the bridal shop at Saks Fifth Avenue. I highly recommend the experience to all would-be brides. I think knowing that I wasn't seriously shopping for a dress made the whole thing so enjoyable - there was no must.find.the.dress stress.
But then I found the dress. The one that made me smile nonstop, the one I couldn't stop thinking about, the one that my mom and all my friends went 'aw' when they saw it. It was the most ridiculous dress ever - a giant cupcake-style dress that made me feel stunning with a dash of whimsy. And, as it is with all wedding dresses, it was just about as unpractical as a dress could be. Far too fluffy and formal for the casual outdoor wedding we're planning. Far too expensive for where the dress fell on my list of wedding-budget priorities. And far too frilly for the miso - I think he would have heart failure when I rustled down the aisle in all my silk shantung glory.
The dress also didn't meet my two requirements for any element of this wedding: no stress and no waste. This dress was definitely both. Figuring out where to buy it, where to alter it, and where to store it was giving me a headache. And I already had the perfect dress for the right price thanks to my mom. A second dress would just be a giant waste of money (and resources, and i'm sure there's some unethical practices somewhere along the production line).
But the dress kept its hold on me. I kept sneaking looks at pictures of me wearing it and stalking ebay for a discounted version. And then the best thing possible happened: I made the dress an option. I decided, screw it. I will say yes to the dress. It's my wedding, and I can wear a giant fluffy dress. I called a place in Cupertino that had the dress, made an appointment to come in, and sorted out where to store the damn thing. Once I did that, the dress lost its hold on me. Poof.
So now my mom's dress is being cut and sewn and tightened and loosened by some wonderful women at a local alterations shop in Atlanta. And, like a sign from the universe, on the way back from the shop, I found the perfect pair of ballet flats (all natural fabrics) that matches the yellow sheen of my mom's thirty-seven year old dress. On super sale.
All of which means I can now drastically increase the invitation budget...hello local artisan letterpress with vegetable inks and tree-free paper!
And I am totally reserving the right to put a picture of me in the cupcake dress on the save the date cards. I'm thinking of this for the caption: Katie's ready for the weddin'. Are you?
Ah, the wedding dress. It presents something of a wedding planning conundrum. On the one hand, you only wear it for one day. Really only about six hours of that day. On the other hand, you will have pictures hanging in your house and your relatives' houses for all to see of you in that dress for the rest of your life. What is a girl to do?
Well, a girl like me totally lucked out and not only fits into her mother's wedding dress but actually looks pretty good in it (well, once we nixed the puffy sleeves and took out the full skirt and lowered the neckline). But despite the magical moment between mother and daughter, I did still feel a nagging in my brain for the 'wedding dress experience'. I wanted to try on dresses and stand in front of a big mirror with my mom and friends sitting behind me on a couch, getting sentimental when the bridal consultant puts a veil on me.
So while I was home for the past week, I did just that. My friends and I had a total blast at two different bridal shops in the ATL (Kellys' Closet and La Raines), and my mom and I tried to contain our 'how much?!' gasps at the bridal shop at Saks Fifth Avenue. I highly recommend the experience to all would-be brides. I think knowing that I wasn't seriously shopping for a dress made the whole thing so enjoyable - there was no must.find.the.dress stress.
But then I found the dress. The one that made me smile nonstop, the one I couldn't stop thinking about, the one that my mom and all my friends went 'aw' when they saw it. It was the most ridiculous dress ever - a giant cupcake-style dress that made me feel stunning with a dash of whimsy. And, as it is with all wedding dresses, it was just about as unpractical as a dress could be. Far too fluffy and formal for the casual outdoor wedding we're planning. Far too expensive for where the dress fell on my list of wedding-budget priorities. And far too frilly for the miso - I think he would have heart failure when I rustled down the aisle in all my silk shantung glory.
The dress also didn't meet my two requirements for any element of this wedding: no stress and no waste. This dress was definitely both. Figuring out where to buy it, where to alter it, and where to store it was giving me a headache. And I already had the perfect dress for the right price thanks to my mom. A second dress would just be a giant waste of money (and resources, and i'm sure there's some unethical practices somewhere along the production line).
But the dress kept its hold on me. I kept sneaking looks at pictures of me wearing it and stalking ebay for a discounted version. And then the best thing possible happened: I made the dress an option. I decided, screw it. I will say yes to the dress. It's my wedding, and I can wear a giant fluffy dress. I called a place in Cupertino that had the dress, made an appointment to come in, and sorted out where to store the damn thing. Once I did that, the dress lost its hold on me. Poof.
So now my mom's dress is being cut and sewn and tightened and loosened by some wonderful women at a local alterations shop in Atlanta. And, like a sign from the universe, on the way back from the shop, I found the perfect pair of ballet flats (all natural fabrics) that matches the yellow sheen of my mom's thirty-seven year old dress. On super sale.
All of which means I can now drastically increase the invitation budget...hello local artisan letterpress with vegetable inks and tree-free paper!
And I am totally reserving the right to put a picture of me in the cupcake dress on the save the date cards. I'm thinking of this for the caption: Katie's ready for the weddin'. Are you?
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
the tortoise and the hare
I want you to picture a cute little bunny and a debonair turtle. Now put a veil on the bunny and a top hat on the turtle. Now send them down the aisle.
Welcome to my world.
When I heard all the horror stories about wedding planning, I thought, 'I will not let this happen to me. I am so above this'. But I'm knee-deep in it. And there are a whole host of reasons that wedding planning is painful, reasons which I will do my best to outline over the next few posts. But for now let's focus on that bunny and turtle.
I am, in every respect, an impulsive person. I do everything quickly for better or for worse. I read fast (and sometimes skip plot points), I buy impulsively (and wind up with an iPhone that goes on sale), and I book tickets to Europe on a whim (forgetting perhaps that the dollar is crashing). For the most part, my 'hare' approach to life has served me well -- I get an idea, I search out all possibilities, I find my solution, and I move on. In some ways I view decisions as obstacles to be immediately removed so I can get back to living my normal life. And this has become increasingly true thanks to a lovely invention called the Internet. I can waste DAYS on craigslist, Kayak, and tripadvisor planning out my ideal life (that often comes to naught), so I tend to be in a hurry to just have the matter resolved so I can stop reloading websites and obsessing over RSS feeds.
Now apply this personality 'quirk' to wedding planning. bad news bears, my friends. For reasons I'll discuss in a later post, you can get married ANYWHERE nowadays, which means I need to research EVERYWHERE. This can take a little bit of time. And it can drive a person nutso. And since I'm a bunny, I will let these decisions and options drive me nutso until I finally come upon my final answer. I'll just keep hop hopping until I reach that finish line, going down every rabbit hole and chasing every carrot until I get there.
The miso, as you may expect, is my tortoise. Patient, calm, slow, and steady. Which is wonderful. And which is why I'm marrying him. And which is why I kinda want to strangle him. I'm sure you can picture me just bouncing up and down on his shell saying, 'hey, hey! lookee here! isn't this venue the BEST?!' And then there I am tugging on his tail saying, 'oh, no, no, no, wait - that one! that one there! that's perfect!' bounce bounce bounce. And he just keeps moving along toward the finish line with this amazing sense of calmness and surety that it will all be okay.
And I know the parable. I know he wins and I just exhaust myself and make it to the same finish line after him. So I'm trying my best from now on to 'be the turtle'. But it sure is hard giving up my bunny ways (especially when places book out FOURTEEN FUCKING MONTHS in advance). But whatever. I am calm. I am the turtle.
Welcome to my world.
When I heard all the horror stories about wedding planning, I thought, 'I will not let this happen to me. I am so above this'. But I'm knee-deep in it. And there are a whole host of reasons that wedding planning is painful, reasons which I will do my best to outline over the next few posts. But for now let's focus on that bunny and turtle.
I am, in every respect, an impulsive person. I do everything quickly for better or for worse. I read fast (and sometimes skip plot points), I buy impulsively (and wind up with an iPhone that goes on sale), and I book tickets to Europe on a whim (forgetting perhaps that the dollar is crashing). For the most part, my 'hare' approach to life has served me well -- I get an idea, I search out all possibilities, I find my solution, and I move on. In some ways I view decisions as obstacles to be immediately removed so I can get back to living my normal life. And this has become increasingly true thanks to a lovely invention called the Internet. I can waste DAYS on craigslist, Kayak, and tripadvisor planning out my ideal life (that often comes to naught), so I tend to be in a hurry to just have the matter resolved so I can stop reloading websites and obsessing over RSS feeds.
Now apply this personality 'quirk' to wedding planning. bad news bears, my friends. For reasons I'll discuss in a later post, you can get married ANYWHERE nowadays, which means I need to research EVERYWHERE. This can take a little bit of time. And it can drive a person nutso. And since I'm a bunny, I will let these decisions and options drive me nutso until I finally come upon my final answer. I'll just keep hop hopping until I reach that finish line, going down every rabbit hole and chasing every carrot until I get there.
The miso, as you may expect, is my tortoise. Patient, calm, slow, and steady. Which is wonderful. And which is why I'm marrying him. And which is why I kinda want to strangle him. I'm sure you can picture me just bouncing up and down on his shell saying, 'hey, hey! lookee here! isn't this venue the BEST?!' And then there I am tugging on his tail saying, 'oh, no, no, no, wait - that one! that one there! that's perfect!' bounce bounce bounce. And he just keeps moving along toward the finish line with this amazing sense of calmness and surety that it will all be okay.
And I know the parable. I know he wins and I just exhaust myself and make it to the same finish line after him. So I'm trying my best from now on to 'be the turtle'. But it sure is hard giving up my bunny ways (especially when places book out FOURTEEN FUCKING MONTHS in advance). But whatever. I am calm. I am the turtle.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
KIVA update
As some of you may remember, a few months ago I decided to try out KIVA and I donated $25 to a group of women in Africa. After just a month I was notified that the women had already begun to pay the loan back. So far I have gotten four dollars back of the twenty-five I invested, and that money basically stays in my KIVA account for me to reinvest. The website is also really great and it lets you see the other people that invested in the same women, and you can also read blog updates from the women and the NGO that works with them. So...KIVA gets a thumbs up from me.
hey neighbor
Dear Steve,
When I stood with the other fanboys at the Palo Alto store on launch day a year ago, I'll confess, I was pretty giddy when you actually showed up. And for a brief second I wished that I was one of the geeks standing in line all night and having my picture snapped when I emerged triumphantly from the store with my new iPhone. And even though I waited one whole day after launch to buy mine, those first few days as an early adopter of the iPhone were fantastic. To use an overplayed line, I felt like I was holding the future in my hands.
But then, Steve, you kinda broke my heart. You dropped the price on the iPhone. And I felt like a chump. And then you kicked me while I was down. My prized 4 GB model? Discontinued. Not only did I pay too much, but I clearly also got too little for what I paid.
Oh, Steve. The rebate was nice and all, but it was a bit like getting roses from your boyfriend who just cheated on you.
But the phone, Steve, the phone continued to charm me. Regardless of the new lower price, the need to buy a headphone adapter, and the fall-out-of-my-tiny-hands slickness, I love that damn phone. It was the MVP of so many roadtrips and vacations, stateside or abroad (with the ATT international digital plan), that phone saved me a bundle on internet cafes and overpriced hotels and overrated restaurants.
So you can imagine my concern when the 3G rumblings began. 'Here we go again', I thought, 'Time for a one-way ticket to chump city'. But then I watched the Keynote...silly Steve! That new phone is just like my phone! Only Ma Bell is going to charge you more to use it. Let me send a quick unlimited text message from my own plan to my fellow early adopters: ROTFL.
You have served us fanboys well, Steve-o. Free 2.0 upgrade, absolutely amazing free apps, and I still have my original phone plan that will, in the end, let my set up still be cheaper than those fancy 3G users and their discounted phones.
Yours,
kteighty
When I stood with the other fanboys at the Palo Alto store on launch day a year ago, I'll confess, I was pretty giddy when you actually showed up. And for a brief second I wished that I was one of the geeks standing in line all night and having my picture snapped when I emerged triumphantly from the store with my new iPhone. And even though I waited one whole day after launch to buy mine, those first few days as an early adopter of the iPhone were fantastic. To use an overplayed line, I felt like I was holding the future in my hands.
But then, Steve, you kinda broke my heart. You dropped the price on the iPhone. And I felt like a chump. And then you kicked me while I was down. My prized 4 GB model? Discontinued. Not only did I pay too much, but I clearly also got too little for what I paid.
Oh, Steve. The rebate was nice and all, but it was a bit like getting roses from your boyfriend who just cheated on you.
But the phone, Steve, the phone continued to charm me. Regardless of the new lower price, the need to buy a headphone adapter, and the fall-out-of-my-tiny-hands slickness, I love that damn phone. It was the MVP of so many roadtrips and vacations, stateside or abroad (with the ATT international digital plan), that phone saved me a bundle on internet cafes and overpriced hotels and overrated restaurants.
So you can imagine my concern when the 3G rumblings began. 'Here we go again', I thought, 'Time for a one-way ticket to chump city'. But then I watched the Keynote...silly Steve! That new phone is just like my phone! Only Ma Bell is going to charge you more to use it. Let me send a quick unlimited text message from my own plan to my fellow early adopters: ROTFL.
You have served us fanboys well, Steve-o. Free 2.0 upgrade, absolutely amazing free apps, and I still have my original phone plan that will, in the end, let my set up still be cheaper than those fancy 3G users and their discounted phones.
Yours,
kteighty
feed me seymour, feed me now
As you have probably noticed, I've been away from the blog for a bit. My apologies to all my loyal readers. All both of you.
I just finished up teaching a three-week course on Classical Literature for *gifted* high school students and right after that was the online high school "faculty" "retreat" (both words deserve scare quotes - I learned that I am not, in fact, faculty but simply an instructor, and the retreat was about as far from a retreat as a boardroom in Palo Alto is from a cabin in Tahoe). After the retreat was the big graduation for all the online seniors (real graduation - not virtual). And then I promptly got a cold. And then I had to sit on the couch playing MarioKart for an entire day. Cold cured.
The weekend was nothing but catered meals (including a wedding up in Berkeley on Friday night) and it was definitely tough to be a vegan. At the wedding on Friday I ate dairy because it would have been starve city otherwise (and it kinda still was - the woman dishing the gnocchi only gave me two little dumplings and then another two after I begged...but the wedding was LOVELY). At the faculty retreat I took the hunk of mozzarella off my sandwich, but the pesto spread wasn't going anywhere. And the graduation party at a student's house on Saturday featured a wonderful salad covered in crumbled blue cheese. Blast.
I was pretty good about packing snacks over the past few days to ward off any fainting spells, but I think if I really am going to commit to being vegan I'm also going to have to be more vocal about it. Case in point, when it did come out that I was vegan at the retreat a soy cheese pizza magically showed up for lunch the next day. I think the trick for me is finding that balance between speaking up and just keeping my mouth shut. If the bride wants to serve vegetables soaked in butter, I will eat it with a big smile on my face. But if the admin brings nothing but butter-soaked pastries as breakfast for a retreat, I might give a grumble or too.
I just finished up teaching a three-week course on Classical Literature for *gifted* high school students and right after that was the online high school "faculty" "retreat" (both words deserve scare quotes - I learned that I am not, in fact, faculty but simply an instructor, and the retreat was about as far from a retreat as a boardroom in Palo Alto is from a cabin in Tahoe). After the retreat was the big graduation for all the online seniors (real graduation - not virtual). And then I promptly got a cold. And then I had to sit on the couch playing MarioKart for an entire day. Cold cured.
The weekend was nothing but catered meals (including a wedding up in Berkeley on Friday night) and it was definitely tough to be a vegan. At the wedding on Friday I ate dairy because it would have been starve city otherwise (and it kinda still was - the woman dishing the gnocchi only gave me two little dumplings and then another two after I begged...but the wedding was LOVELY). At the faculty retreat I took the hunk of mozzarella off my sandwich, but the pesto spread wasn't going anywhere. And the graduation party at a student's house on Saturday featured a wonderful salad covered in crumbled blue cheese. Blast.
I was pretty good about packing snacks over the past few days to ward off any fainting spells, but I think if I really am going to commit to being vegan I'm also going to have to be more vocal about it. Case in point, when it did come out that I was vegan at the retreat a soy cheese pizza magically showed up for lunch the next day. I think the trick for me is finding that balance between speaking up and just keeping my mouth shut. If the bride wants to serve vegetables soaked in butter, I will eat it with a big smile on my face. But if the admin brings nothing but butter-soaked pastries as breakfast for a retreat, I might give a grumble or too.
Friday, July 4, 2008
free chocolate is vegan
it is. i don't need to look it up online or any veg resource to verify it. free chocolate samples of any variety are vegan. you heard it here first, folks.
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