bike-o-ween.

a jolly start to fall riding, I'd say.

bright spots stockpile, part 3. easter edition.

Happy Easter! Right now my Easter observance consists of watching a neighbor eat Cheetos on her porch, and wearing a pink Easter dress while reading The Rise of the Unmeltable Ethnics. I hope that your Easter is similarly stimulating.  

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And let's be real about the biggest bright spot of all today-- for me, the day's message of Resurrection, regeneration, and everlasting life is particularly comforting right now.  I also liked the message from our seder last night-- Dayenu.  It was a relief to find that the call to God that "It would have been enough" was inscribed on the hearts and history of an entire people. Dayenu. Dayenu.  We can be hopeful but still be at the threshold for what we can bear.

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Big Brother sent this link my way. It's perfect because Easter candy is conspicuously absent from our house today.  I'm not sure who was responsible for that oversight, but an excursion to CVS feels imminent.

Because Cadbury Creme Eggs Benedict has left a big hole in my heart.

And Postsecret, not to be outdone, made that hole bigger with a link to Peep Sushi.

all it requires is a little bravery. or a lot.

While I can't say I was as deliberately observant of Valentine's Day as I was in years past (heh), I can say that:

A. That pulled pork sandwich I woke up craving? It was delicious.  But I would've eaten it anyways.  In fact, I will probably find a way to eat one tomorrow. Because bitches treat themselves every day, not just on days when other people are going out to dinner.


B. It's blurry and teeny and obscured by a tree branch, but I can see a lit-up heart from my laundry room.  Awwww:

C. This bit from the NYT Modern Love section made me verklempt:

"What is love, anyway?

Ah, best for last. If I were Spock from “Star Trek,” I would explain that human love is a combination of three emotions or impulses: desire, vulnerability and bravery. Desire makes one feel vulnerable, which then requires one to be brave.

Since I’m not Spock, I will tell a story.

Say you decide to adopt a baby girl in China. You receive her photo, put it on your refrigerator and gaze at it as the months pass, until finally you’re halfway around the world, holding her in your arms, tears of joy streaming down your face.

But later in your hotel room, after undressing her, you discover worrisome physical signs, in particular a scar on her spine. You call the doctor, then head to the hospital for examinations and CT scans, where you are told the following: she suffered botched spinal surgery that caused nerve damage. Soon she will lose all bladder and bowel control. Oh, and she will be paralyzed for life. We’re so sorry.

But the adoption agency offers you a choice: keep this damaged baby, or trade her in for a healthier one.

You don’t even know about the trials yet to come, about the alarming diagnoses she’ll receive back home, the terrifying seizures you’ll witness. Nor do you know about the happy ending that is years off, when she comes through it all and is perfectly fine. You have to decide now. This is your test. What do you do?

If you’re Elizabeth Fitzsimons, who told this story here one Mother’s Day, you say: “We don’t want another baby. We want our baby, the one sleeping right over there. She’s our daughter.”

That’s love. Anyone can have it. All it requires is a little bravery. Or a lot."

D. This song popped up on the internet today.  I'm not usually such a sap, but I liked the sentiment:

Happy Valentine's Day from Philly!

for the freedom of the human spirit.

One of the joys of being a historian is developing a sense of the big picture.  Martin Luther King Jr. Day evokes a little twitch from me.  Certainly, the influence of his vision for America has been felt across the generations, but I can't help but feel that something is lost in commemorating just one man's sacrifices and opinions and efforts when so many people gave something, or even gave all, to begin the still incomplete process of achieving equality for all Americans.  

lucky me, to have such an awesome mural on the side of my house

"Even if segregation is gone, we will still need to be free; we will still have to see that everyone has a job. Even if we can all vote, but if people are still hungry, we will not be free... Singing alone is not enough; we need schools and learning... Remember, we are not fighting for the freedom of the Negro alone, but for the freedom of the human spirit, a larger freedom that encompasses all of mankind."
-Ella Baker, founder of SNCC

a pack of strays.

I've been touched lately by the thoughtful Christmas essays featured in The New York Times recently.  One spoke to the realities- and hopes- of being a single person during the holidays, another, more poignant, answered for the struggles of the unmoored and the families who take them in on festive days.  While I have never been in the foster care system or experienced even half of the traumas the author alluded to, I have felt the pinball feeling of ricocheting off of other people's (and sometimes my own) family events as both a grateful participant and an uncomfortable intruder.  Confronting this feeling annually involves a late, reluctant, and resigned purchase of an airline ticket and a frustrating blend of enthusiasm and dread.  I love, love, love being around my family but I struggle to really enjoy the holidays (coming home in the summer is so much easier!).  After reading this NYT story about people skipping the holidays- I, feeling very curmudgeonly (probably from gorging on candy and teriyaki to cope with, you know, the stress) was like, YES! Maybe next year I could just spend the holidays at home in Philly in my most amazing bed that I miss so much, without any drama or feelings of holiday malaise!  Maybe I could just skip it, all of it!  Validated in my dark and brooding state, I was plotting a dramatic iCal reminder that would suggest I consider traveling after New Years so that I could just bypass all of the running around and the inexplicable misery I feel in the midst of all this apparent happiness.

It's like you see me making a white sauce, but really I have this complicated inner life. 

I recognize that I'm not the only person on the planet to feel this, and I recognize I'm probably not the only person in this house who feels it either.  Which is why I'm so especially grateful that my some special folks rallied our pack of strays this evening.  Fragments of an extended family, we boast a large percentage of single people.  We lack a clear leader- there are no matriarchs or patriarchs here, just a  contingent of several generations willing to go where they are called.  Suddenly planned, the food was simple, the giving was directed primarily towards the children, and the evening involved the installation of a car radiator.  This was not some ungainly production, but an effort of basic pragmatism:

We would all celebrate Christmas elsewhere, but tonight, we needed to celebrate our Christmas.  We gathered from the far-flung corners of Seattle, rural Pierce County, Tacoma, and Philadelphia to be together.  And perhaps, because of the nature of the season, we were able to see in each other qualities we'd missed or thought too long dormant.  It was an awakening moment for me.

It is easy to see the holidays for what they aren't, for what ones' life isn't.  It is a default, for some, to feel lost and aloof amidst endless hams and cookie platters.  It is not difficult to focus on those feelings, it just happens.  And that is why it is so blissful when that moment of grace presents itself and you can't feel anything better than the love and caring that comes from being a part of a family.  We say we're coming together for the holidays, but really, we're coming together for each other. It is good to be reminded that we are no longer strangers and together we are no longer strays.

God bless us, every one.

gratitude.

It's time for the annual "I'm thankful for" list. I'm just dashing it out as I have a lot of writing to do this evening, but this really is one of my favorite yearly exercises.

I am thankful for my always supportive family. They keep me going when times are tough. They give me perspective and insight and patience and love.  In this past year in particular, they generously and graciously opened their homes to me when I needed the time and the space to rebuild my tattered sense of self. My family sustains me, and there really aren't words to express how grateful I am for that.  I couldn't do this alone. I can't wait to be with them soon!

I am thankful for opportunities. I'm grateful I'm in my seventh year of college. I'm thankful that I've been able to travel, present at conferences, meet new people, take on exciting projects, and have such a dang cool career path. I forget how awesome it is when I get caught up in the drudgery and the logistics, but I'm glad that I continuously get reminded that I am doing something special.

I am thankful I changed my life. This city, this school, this program, this life, these challenges-- they were all exactly what I needed. I have never worked so hard or put so much of myself into anything, and I'm grateful for what that experience has done to my spirit. I feel fortified. I am glad I didn't take other paths and that so many things in my life didn't happen so that I can be here, now.

I am thankful that I sold my car and became a bike commuter. The 455 miles I've ridden since moving to Philly last August have made my body fit and relieved me of so much stress.  Those miles also allow me to consume lager and fries several times a week without consequences, which I am particularly grateful for.

Which reminds me, I am thankful for my health. In a season of colds and swine flu, I feel phenomenally blessed that I have not been sick once. 

I am thankful for my friends in every time zone. I like knowing that they are out there in the world being good people and making the world a better place. It gives me hope. I am thankful that we have the bonds that we do. 

In the moment- I'm thankful I have a place to be this Thanksgiving. I'm thankful that in the past month I've become apart of a great group of friends who give me endless opportunities to laugh. I'm grateful for the prospect of pear butterscotch pie, a ride in the rain, finally being able to understand how to write about political culture, and getting to tell stories that have never been told this way.  I'm thankful for white Christmas lights and a roommate who, in five seconds, is going to ask me to help him start preparing an amazing meal for tomorrow.  And I'm thankful for all of you who read my blog and make me smile with your comments and encouragement. I have so much to be thankful for!

Happy Thanksgiving! 

names, memorials, masculinity, and femininity.

The Paper has been a hotbed of soapboxing for historians and historical causes the past couple of days, undoubtedly as a means of giving the journos some down time. For example:

A missive on the problem of changing Rhode Island's name.

A plea for fixing grammatical errors at the Jefferson Memorial.

An exposition on the bachelorhood of the Founding Fathers.

A cool graphical representation of hairstyles of First Ladies.

It's nice to see the Gray Lady turning the holiday into a public history opportunity. Like Christmas in July for some folks, really- but hey, we could all use a little distraction from this mess.

freedom is the only way, yah.

Wishing you a happy Independence Day from the land of "absolute despotism."
May we all honor our liberated heritage by "opposing with manly firmness... invasions on the rights of the people."

And of course, make sure you take a minute to thank a Vet. Freedom isn't free.

happy easter.

sometimes posts just write themselves.

Today's theme has been loneliness, despite the fact that I don't feel that way . Talk about your run of the mill Saturday. But I kept knocking into things that fit together, so here we go:

The above graphic made me smile, The Wrestler is one of the saddest yet most hopeful movies ever, and Gawker rounded things out with its "What's Your Favorite Sad Bastard Song" post. I mean really, sometimes life is just so thematically unified that you can't ignore it even if you don't really feel it.

in spite of it being a great year.