Month: December 2006

anniversary present, anniversaries past

Today is John’s and my 7th wedding anniversary. A couple of months ago, on October 24th, we celebrated our second wedding anniversary. Let me explain. John and I have been married twice. To each other.

John and I started dating (or whatever you want to call it) on New Year’s of 1992. We got engaged on December 31st (New Year’s Eve) of 1993. Then for several years, we talked about planning the wedding, but each time we started the plans, there was some sort of obstacle. Work schedules were hectic. Money was tight. Crucial family members were planning to be away on long trips. We once got as far as picking a date, only to find that John’s niece had just announced her own wedding the same weekend across the country. We didn’t want to compete for family members to attend, so we opted not to schedule for that date. For several years, when someone would ask when we were ever going to get married, we’d say, more or less jokingly, “some time before the year 2000.” We weren’t really in a hurry to get married.

At the end of 1999, I was planning to quit my job soon to have a bit of time off before starting grad school. Which meant, among other things, I’d be losing my health insurance benefits. We’d talked about maybe having a civil ceremony, in part so that I could get on John’s health insurance plan, and then later schedule the party wedding where we’d be able to include family and friends. But we hadn’t acted on this plan. Then the last week of December, we decided to make good on our threat to get married before the year 2000. We thought we’d wait till the last possible day to squeak in our wedding before 2000. (Which also coincided with the anniversary of our engagement.) We found a Justice of the Peace in a nearby town who was available to marry us in her home on December 31st. We applied for our marriage license in our Town Hall, and duly went for our blood tests. And so the morning of December 31, 1999, John and I were married. The only ones there were John, myself, and the Justice of the Peace. In her living room. No other witnesses. (Massachusetts doesn’t require them.)

We told close family members, but the plan was to schedule the more ceremonial wedding before we made a wide announcement. We expected to do this within the year. But. Time passed. As it is wont to do. In fact, several years passed. And we more or less casually told people about our marriage along the way. People pretty much no longer expected us to have the “big” wedding. But I was determined. I wanted my party. A ceremony. Food. Music. And I wanted to have our loved ones with us to share in our celebration.

So, on October 24th, 2004, John and I got married again. This time with our friends and family with us.

This past October 24th was, therefore, our second wedding anniversary. It was both the anniversary of our second wedding, and the second anniversary of that wedding. (A nice little example of syntactic ambiguity where both parses apply…)

second wedding anniversary tree

Rescue me! (…from the princess phenomenon)

I’ve been thinking a lot about this article in the New York Times Magazine I read last weekend. It’s about the current craze among little girls for all things princess, written by a mother who is struggling with her own daughter’s princess compulsions. The article has some interesting notes on the social construction of gender. For example, there’s a bit about the current designation of pink as the girliest of girly girl colors (and nearly the only color option for girls). It seems that this is actually a fairly recent happening:

The relentless resegregation of childhood appears to have sneaked up without any further discussion about sex roles, about what it now means to be a boy or to be a girl. Or maybe it has happened in lieu of such discussion because it’s easier this way.

Easier, that is, unless you want to buy your daughter something that isn’t pink. Girls’ obsession with that color may seem like something they’re born with, like the ability to breathe or talk on the phone for hours on end. But according to Jo Paoletti, an associate professor of American studies at the University of Maryland, it ain’t so. When colors were first introduced to the nursery in the early part of the 20th century, pink was considered the more masculine hue, a pastel version of red. Blue, with its intimations of the Virgin Mary, constancy and faithfulness, was thought to be dainty. Why or when that switched is not clear, but as late as the 1930s a significant percentage of adults in one national survey held to that split. Perhaps that’s why so many early Disney heroines — Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Wendy, Alice-in-Wonderland — are swathed in varying shades of azure.

The other bit I found particularly thought-provoking was this bit about the attempts to reconcile traditional and contemporary standards for girls’ roles:

But what to make, then, of the young women in the Girls Inc. survey? It doesn’t seem to be “having it all” that’s getting to them; it’s the pressure to be it all. In telling our girls they can be anything, we have inadvertently demanded that they be everything. To everyone. All the time. No wonder the report was titled “The Supergirl Dilemma.”

Anyhow, it’s a fun read, as well as an interesting one.

ready to go back home

We’re down at my in-laws for a few days. We came down Tuesday night. It’s Thursday night now. And somehow I keep feeling like we’ve been down here a week or more.

It’s not so terrible to be here. It’s just that I have even less time to myself than I’ve lately had at home. Phoebe wakes up earlier, won’t nap well and then stays up later. And then I feel the need to socialize with my mother-in-law (and do things like eat dinner) once Phoebe’s gone to bed. John is occupied with other things. This all leaves me almost nil time to do things like work on this damn blog. (And here I thought maybe I could even try reading a book while I was down here…but let’s face it. If it’s not a board book, I’m probably not going to read it right now.)

I finally broke free to do a bit of writing and find that, even though I’d been on a writing roll and absolutely itching to get back to it, now that I have few minutes to spare, I haven’t been able to get a complete sentence out on the posts I’ve been planning to write. I’m back to the annoying habit of writing part of a sentence, rethinking what I wrote, and going back to reword and revise it before I ever get to the punctuation mark at the end. So here. We’re leaving that aside for now, and moving on to general ranting. Not much substance. Not much content. Not much of interest. But look at all the punctuation marks!

look whose stocking

Mostly, I just wanted to use that title. (It may be clear that I am a sucker for a pun.) But now that I’ve come up with the title, it makes me want to reflect a bit on Christmas stockings I have known.

My family was never a religious one, but Christmas traditions were always very important. The tree. The music. The nog. The food. And most importantly, the rituals of Christmas Day. The first of which was the opening of the stockings. (I think I’ll have to write about the actual rituals at some other point. Because I shouldn’t be writing at all right now. I should be excavating the dining room table, which has been buried since the earlier days of the local population boom.)

I mentioned once before that my family (that is my mother, my sister and I) moved to France for a year when I was 9 years old. I don’t think my mother knew exactly how long we’d be staying there when we first packed up our bags and flew the coop, but in any case we didn’t bring the Christmas stockings we’d used in past years with us. Not ready to convert to the French custom of leaving our shoes out for Père Noël to fill, we decided to make some American-style red and white Christmas stockings for our American-style Santa. We got some red felt for the stockings, and a smaller amount of white felt for the trim. Since neither my mother nor my grandmother were particulary adept at (or interested in) sewing, and we didn’t have a sewing machine, to boot, we each were to make our own stocking.

My sister, eleven years old at the time, designed and executed a beautifully proportioned stocking with elegant lines. She neatly assembled it with even stitches and an attractive smooth-edged, white cuff at the top made of two round-cornered rectangles; one on the front, one on the back, so that the stocking could be hung either way. She somehow had found that balance between functionality (a wide leg tapering gently to an ankle opening that was just narrow enough to please the eye without causing a bottleneck for stuffing) and cuteness (a perfectly-shaped sock foot). I think she even discreetly embroidered in her name and the year somewhere.

My grandmother had little patience for the task, and strove to make the least amount of effort possible to make a functional stocking so that she could get on to activities she found more interesting. We each used a long oblong of red felt, folded halfway down the length, and in hers she cut out mere suggestions from the rectangle to indicate the foot and ankle. She left the folded fabric intact at the bottom of the foot, so that she would have less to sew. Hers was the “flat foot” stocking. She left the sides largely straight, too. A simple rectangle of white at the top acted as the trim.

My mother made a somewhat abstracted version of a stocking, with curving swooping lines. It was more expressionist than practical, with an ankle that was a bit narrow for easy stuffing. It was not too carefully sewn, and it too had a small amount of fold left at the bottom of the foot for reduced stitching needs. It boasted a neat but fairly minimal white cuff at the top.

My own stocking was perhaps not a bad effort for a nine-year-old. However, I ran out of time, and didn’t manage to finish it in time for bedtime Christmas Eve. I don’t remember why it wasn’t done, but I can guess. I expect there was some waffling over the design, and too much time spent trying to get the stitches small and just right. I’m sure there was also some procrastination, and probably some distraction that pulled me away to other things. The end result was a fairly cute (if not elegant) stocking with rounded lines, a wide leg to fit lots of stuff, and a tiny foot that was probably the result of a mistake in cutting the felt. And at the top, because I ran out of time and hadn’t yet worked out my plans for the white felt, I quickly affixed (with a couple of loose stiches) a rectangle of paper towel to stand in for the trim.

The plan was to finish it later. But as you may be able to guess, I never actually finished it. Christmas Day came, and there was too much going on to be bothered with sewing. It ended up getting packed up as it was, paper towel trim and all. The next time we unpacked it for Christmas, I don’t remember what kept me from adding the white felt. But in the end, I became sentimental about my stocking as it was when I made it, and no longer wanted to finish it.

I don’t have that stocking any more. It got lost many years and many moves later. I remember my mother emerging from her struggles digging through boxes and trunks, some Christmastime down the road. She very cheerfully proclaimed: “I’ve found two stockings and a Santa hat!” Translation: two of the stockings have been lost. My mother can get extra cheerful when it’s time to share bad news.

The next Christmas, I got a new stocking. My not-yet-mother-in-law knit me a red, green and white striped stocking, complete with my name and the year I was born stitched on, as has been the tradition in my husband’s family. (I was very touched by her way of welcoming me to the family.) John has his stocking, knit by his aunt or grandmother many years ago. And now Phoebe has her own hand-knit stocking (made by John’s mother, of course) which we’ll be filling for the first time tonight.

reduce, reuse, regift

Not so long ago, I wrote a post with a list of so-called “gift ideas.” Sparked by late night desperation (the realization that I largely hadn’t even started my holiday shopping) and fueled by procrastination, I came up with a list of gift suggestions. Things you could buy at a grocery or drug store, or find lying around the house. I was being silly. But here’s the secret. I wasn’t entirely joking. While I’m not suggesting that you give your aunt antacids or your uncle dishsoap, I do think it makes more sense to give gifts that are at least useful, even if not traditionally gifted. Here’s what I’ve been realizing more and more about our (US) culture:

  1. people have far too much stuff
  2. these days, most people I know will buy stuff that they want, unless it’s something too expensive (and then you won’t be able to give it to them either)
  3. so often people end up buying gifts for people just for the sake of giving them

Just walk into any store this time of year, and you’ll see aisles full of items that few people would buy for themselves: cheaply produced electronics, gaudy decorations, novelty items. All of them bulky and largely useless in all their bulky and wasteful packaging. Their primary purpose is to be gifted: bought, wrapped, given, unwrapped, perhaps played with or admired briefly. And then what? (Stored, stashed, trashed…) But people get desperate when they run out of time, or don’t know someone’s tastes too well. I know all too well. It’s so easy to fall into holiday shopping traps.

Don’t get me wrong. I do enjoy both giving and receiving (some) gifts. But all too often gift-giving and gift-receiving can become a burden. It becomes downright wasteful. So over the last few years, I’ve been trying to rethink the way I do my holiday shopping. A woman I work with has mentioned her niece to me a couple of times, a woman whose slogan as far as gifts go is “if I can’t eat it, wear it or put it in my pocket, I don’t want it.” Such wonderful and simple guidelines.

So here’s what I’ve been trying to do for my own holiday shopping dilemmas (that is, for those times when I haven’t found a gift that I know a particular person will want, or that I really want to give):

  • keep it small. As in physically small. At least this way the packaging and burden of storage are minimized.
  • comestibles: food or drink
  • donations, such as to Heifer International
  • things that have some value for resale or donation: books, cds, dvds
  • I’ve really learned to appreciate gift cards: minimal packaging and size, and the person can pick out something they would likely buy anyway

    • And while it’s traditionally been considered tacky to regift, I have this dream that this attitude will change. (I suppose the tackiness of regifting is to give someone a gift that you didn’t like, and want to get rid of. But that’s not the sort of regifting I have in mind.) There’s a company, wrapsacks, that makes cloth gift bags that are designed to be reused. They are not only beautiful and “planet-friendly,” but they have the added feature that their journey (from recipient to recipient) can be tracked online. (If I’d been more organized, I would have done more of my holiday shopping, or at least wrapping, from them…)

    I’ve thought it would be wonderful to have other items that were more-or-less meant to be regifted: they could develop a history, be enjoyed year after year by different people. A book, a box, an ornament, perhaps. The giver could add a personal touch (a date, a name, a location, a drawing or a photo…), and then the recipient could either give it back to the original giver another year (adding their own bit), or pass it on to someone else.

    9 more kick-ass women movies I want to see

    Here is yet another installment of my kick-ass women in movies and TV project. Since I’m starting to have trouble keeping track of which movies I’ve already listed, I’ve started up a master list. So far, it has my first 5 lists, and can be found under pages in my sidebar.

    Below is the second list of movies that I should see. (To those of you gave me some more recommendations, Thanks!) As in the previous installments, the movies in this list are ordered chronologically.

    9 more kick-ass women movies I want to see

    1. Supergirl (1984)
      I really know almost nothing about this one, but I have fairly low expectations from this US-made movie from the darkest depths of the Reagan era. I’m curious, though. We need more women superhero movies.
    2. Swordsman II/Xiao ao jiang hu zhi dong fang bu bai (1991)
      This Brigitte Lin movie has been recommended to me by a new friend and Hong Kong cinema buff. While I’d been curious about this movie in the past, her review of the movie makes me downright eager to see it.
    3. The Swordsman III/Dung fong bat baai 2: fung wan joi hei (1992)
      If I like the second Swordsman, I’m instructed to see the third.
    4. Bride with White Hair 2/Bai fa mo nu zhuan II (1993)
      I haven’t yet seen this sequel, starring Brigitte Lin, even though I already have the DVD in my collection. I should get to it!
    5. Point of No Return (1993)
      Bridget Fonda stars in this La Femme Nikita/Nikita remake. The reviews aren’t as bad as I’d expect from a remake that didn’t need to be made. (Though how many remakes really do? Why is that folks make remakes of the good movies? Ooh. There’s a fun list to make…seriously flawed movies that should be remade.)
    6. Smilla’s Sense of Snow (1997)
      Julia Ormond stars in this mystery/thriller. I don’t know too much about it, though I read the book ages ago. (From what I understand, though, the movie makes a pretty big departure from the book.)
    7. The X Files (1998)
      This is the movie, which a friend (a big fan of the show) says she found a bit disappointing. It’s probably still worth considering for Gillian Anderson’s famed role as Scully.
    8. Resident Evil (2002)
      Milla Jovovich stars. Based on the game. Has been recommended to me. Have duly added it to my queue.
    9. Resident Evil: Apocalypse (2004)
      The sequel to the above item.

    Some kick-ass women movies I need to see

    Here’s another installment in my ongoing project to collect and categorize kick-ass women movies and shows. This is a list of such movies that I haven’t seen yet, but hope to (or should) see someday soon. (This is my fifth list in the series. The first four lists are of movies I’ve seen and loved, or at least enjoyed.)

    9 kick-ass women movies I need to see

    1. Coffy (1973)
    2. Foxy Brown (1974)
      Two 70’s classics starring Pam Grier. I’m curious, but wary. Wary of the 70’s mostly, I guess.
    3. Aliens (1986)
    4. Alien 3 (1992)
    5. Alien Resurrection (1997)
      It’s pretty shocking that I’ve never seen any of the movies in the Alien franchise. Especially considering that Sigourney Weaver’s role of Ellen Ripley is legendary in the kick-ass woman genre. These are at the top of my to-see list. (I need to see the first one, too, but I understand that Ripley is not yet too kick-ass yet in that one.)
    6. GI Jane (1997)
      More military than most of the kick-ass women movies I watch. Demi Moore stars in this one as woman in a Navy Seals training.
    7. Die Another Day (2002)
      Halle Berry is supposed pretty good in this, though I’ve heard it’s not a great Bond movie overall.
    8. House of Flying Daggers/Shi mian mai fu (2004)
      I believe this one is supposed to be pretty good. It’s got Zhang Ziyi. I have high hopes.
    9. Elektra (2005)
      This should have been great. I heard it wasn’t. I’d sill like to check it out. Jennifer Garner reprises (somewhat) her role from Daredevil.

    rise and shine

    Time to get to work! It’s about 8:30, and I just took a shower and got dressed. Mind you, it’s 8:30 p.m.

    It’s been a rough day. Phoebe home sick from daycare. John recovering from the flu. Me coming down with a cold. This has not been the productive day I’d planned. Okay, now to get some work done. For real this time.

    Look who’s stalking

    I was recently telling John (my husband) about something I’d read in “one of the blogs I’ve been stalking.” To which he replied “it’s usually called ‘reading.'”

    Oh, right. I suppose it is. But it’s just that I’m only now getting used to this business of dropping by and getting a glimpse into someone’s life and thoughts, without them knowing. I feel like a voyeur. Here I am, sneaking around behind the bushes (following links). Peaking in windows (clicking on old posts). Eavesdropping on conversations (reading comments). Tiptoeing back in the middle of the night to see if anything’s changed (hitting refresh). Wondering if I’m leaving my footprints in the mud (a residual ip address).

    Now that I’m actually writing a blog of my own, and learning more about the whole blogging process, I’ve made the following startling discovery: bloggers intentionally leave the blinds open. They actually generally want other people to read what they’ve written. Even total strangers.

    So while I still feel like a stalker, I’ve decided to try to be the sort of stalker who clumsily waves hello. And perhaps who leaves the occasional calling card. (I’m adding to my blogroll…)