Sabbath Sunday #3 Leesburg VA

Today, Jeff and Buster and I are in Leesburg, VA celebrating our upcoming anniversary. We're staying at our friends' house and relaxing. 


I suppose a big part of our Sabbath Sunday will also be a long drive home, but I'm trying not to think about that.


How did you Sabbath it up today, Lobsters?

Snapshot Saturday #3: the shot that started it all

Sophomore year of college. First photography class. Assignment: portraits. I asked my buddy, Nate, if I could use him as a subject. Not only did I get an enthusiastic "sure," but also, he brought along a whole group of friends. I told them to gather up some props and come to the Armington lawn. One by one they sat awkwardly for me while I danced around the polite sphere of personal space. Jon used someone's guitar as a prop, but held it backwards - not knowing any better, making for some comical shots. Then you sat down.

You grabbed the same guitar. Not only did you know how to hold it, you knew how to play. You began to mess around with some little jazzy improv-y chord progressions. I lost site of the sphere of personal space all together. You drew me in and I was entranced. I don't think I even realized what I was doing. I've always wondered what you were thinking as my lens got right up in your face.

Later that evening, I spent a few hours alone in the dark room. That's when it really hit me. As the shot of you developed and I saw that image coming into view in that red light, a powerful, visceral rush of excitement/butterflies/awe/joy rushed over me. Bam! It was like I got hit by a truck that was my-intense-crush-on-you. Full on twitter-pated.

You looked so mysterious. I wanted to discover what that mystery was all about. I needed any excuse to see you again as soon as possible. I rushed down the hill to your dorm, only to find your room darkened with multiple girls snuggled up on your couch. But you weren't on that couch. You were on the bunk above them, from which you jumped down faster than I could finish knocking on your door. I was almost too overwhelmed and nervous to know what to say. "Uh, I finished developing the photos. It took a few tries to get it quite right for the assignment. I thought your mom might want some pictures of you or something." And she knew right away. On your next visit home, when you handed her those prints, she knew better than even I did how completely smitten I was with you. She could see it in the shot. Smart lady.

Here we are. Six years ago today, we got married.

I still love this shot.

I love that I got to capture and preserve the exact moment that my heart fell in love with you.

I love that I'm still enthralled with discovering your mystery.

I love that the power with which those feelings hit me as your image developed was just the smallest glimpse of the way I feel about you today, as if our love is ever-developing and coming more fully into view.

I love you, Manny.

Happy Anniversary my dear husband.

Shout Out to Our Artist

My mom drew our header. She is nice. And lovely. And so fun. And talented, obviously. Though she admitted that on several attempts to create this header, the first lobsters came out cute and the second ones looked like Gandhi.

I, for one, would like to see some Gandhi lobsters.

In conclusion, Zoe and I raise our claws in thanks to you, Mama.

Check out more of her art here: http://bionicrobyn.deviantart.com/ 

Guest Blogging

What's another way you can cultivate long distance friendships? Guest post on one another's blogs!

My first guest blogging experience was posted today. I got to write for one of my favorite blogs, thanks to my old friend and Spring Break In the City co-conspirator, Becca Eliasen.

Check out the post here: Confessions of a . . .

You should browse her blog, its adorable and encouraging. Then you should comment on both of our blogs begging her to guest blog for us too. Wouldn't that be great? Yes, it would. Come on Lobsters, together, we can make this happen! ;)

Bossypants: A Conversational Review

We'd like to thank the wonder that is gchat for the following conversation about Bossypants by Tina Fey:





zoe: hullo!

emily: yo yo yo

zoe: so, you finished Bossypants, eh?

emily: indeed! i sat in barnes and noble for 2.5 hours on Saturday and finished it. so i didn't buy the book, but i was a sitting advertisement for them that whole time. i made sure the cover was visible and everything.

zoe: i did buy the book - a special splurge for myself. worth every penny.

emily: i almost wish i'd purchased it because i think it would be fun to read aloud to jeff.

zoe: so . . . do you not feel like her "voice" is similar to your personality/writing style? I just couldn't stop thinking of you the whole way through

emily: i feel horribly arrogant agreeing, but yes. not through the whole thing (i have not yet reached levels of comedic brilliance equal to something like her prayer for her daughter, for example), but occasionally yes.

i think what i loved about it was that i felt like i could be friends with her. she intertwines her thoughts on producing a major network television show with her struggle to plan a good birthday party with her daughter.

zoe: That writing device was so fun and also so profound. She effectively dignified motherhood as being similarly important as running a TV show and worth glorifying.

emily: exactly. i also plan to repeat one of her thoughts to myself whenever people say dumb things about my mothering skills (which i've heard happens to all mothers at some point). she said something like "no one ever says you HAVE to give birth when you're pregnant. if it's something you actually have to do, it doesn't need to be said."

zoe: that was so great - and unfortunately an important tool to have in your arsenal. i'm amazed at how everyone has an opinion about how to mother your child.

emily: blech, i'm not looking forward to that. i don't take criticism of any kind well.

zoe: i recently got a whole slew of that. everything from judgy-looks to full out comments. but the strangest thing was - they would be amazed at how good of a baby she was, then turn right around and tell me I was mothering her wrong. If I’m getting such great results, why are my methods so wrong?

emily: man. i would have punched them in the face.

zoe: another great comeback i can't get over is when someone uses a curse word to refer to her. She says, "No. You don't get to call me that. My parents love me; I'm not some[one] that's going to take that *%^&." No one ever calls her that word again - to her face at least. I love it. I really hope I can raise Sofia in such a way that if ever anyone dares say something so awful to her, she would have the same response. Someone should work that into anti-bullying programs!

emily: hahaha yes, that is brilliant.

other reasons i loved bossypants:

1.    i was either laughing or had a stupid grin on my face the whole time i was reading.

2. she is honest about what's rough about being famous (idiotic comments on the internet) and what's awesome about being famous (photoshoots)

3. she and her husband are still married and get to be fun and creative together.

4. her daughter's name is alice, and not carrot or beast or october or anything. (i realize that’s a reason i love tina, and not specifically the book, but still…)

and 5. i already had an affinity for the tina. i admit she could have written something less awesome than this and i would have still enjoyed it to some degree.

zoe: true. i think it did end up exceeding my expectations though.

just like Date Night - I thought "Steve Carrell and Tina Fey in a movie together? That's too brilliant to have any real possibility of being all that good/funny" but it really really was. so funny that i could not watch it after my C-section cause it hurt my abs so bad to laugh that much

emily: haha awesome

zoe: other female comedians believe this myth that only men can be funny - so in order to get a laugh - they try to tell jokes that men would tell. but the thing is, funny men are ones that name surprising, unspoken truths about their own personal experience. But the woman comic isn't personally experiencing being a man. Tina, on the other hand, is funny because she names surprising, unspoken truths about being a woman. so she cracks the male-comedian code and dispels the myth about female-comedians by being so effective herself.

  

emily: i totally agree. basically, she’s brilliant.

Zoe gives bossypants two claws up. So does Emily. That’s four claws up, Lobsters. Go buy (or read in the bookstore) Bossypants today. We command you! 

Surprised by sadness

I was not excited about this year as I entered into it. It took some convincing to get me on board with the idea of my husband doing a post-doctoral appointment before settling into a tenure track position. But then he got offers for both, which meant the three years we’d planned on spending in one place got abbreviated to one, before moving onto a longer term post. Less than one year in a place is not much, especially when you’re having your first baby in the middle of that year.

One year is especially not much for a married couple of introverts. We’re slow to warm up to people. I knew I was going to need a community of support when I had my baby, and I had no idea how that was going to come together. I was putting all my eggs in the basket of the one family of friends we had in San Diego, a family of four kids and consequently a very busy schedule.

Being what it was, I did what I could do. We visited our one family of friends often. When another friend who was really just barely more than an acquaintance moved down from Berkeley shortly after us, I clung to her and took advantage of any time she could spare to spend with me. We curtailed our church shopping to plug into a community faster. But still, my new friend was bound to find a job to take up her time eventually, and when we met people at church we would often hear, “Oh, you’re those people who are leaving in less than a year, I heard about you.”

It wasn’t looking good, so I settled into the year, thinking of it as a 12-month long vacation in a sunny beach town. Now that our time here is running out, I’ve found that the weather in San Diego is not as idyllic as I’d expected, I’ve hardly set foot on the beach more than a few times, and I actually have people I’m going to miss when we leave.

Sure enough, my acquaintance has found work, but only after I got spoiled by taking weekly walks with her. She’s become a dear friend, I miss her, and I’m really sad I can’t take her with me to Maine. We figured the church we found would just be a place to attend on Sunday mornings, but they’ve folded us into their community, gotten us passionate about their mission, involved us in their efforts to renew the city around them. The other night, a member of our community group actually told us he would miss us when we left. I was stunned. And I’ve found so many other friends. Women from a Beth Moore bible study, partners in community development in City-Heights, mental health advocates around the city. People I’ve come to respect and love deeply. They touched my life and shaped me, in such a short period of time. I can’t believe it, but I’m going to be sad to leave this town and all the people that have come to mean a great deal to me. I guess I’ve added a whole new package of long-distance friends to my collection. Thank you San Diego. 

Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold . . . 

Lobsters, have you ever been pleasantly surprised to be sad to leave a place?

anything once guest post: attending a sound of music singalong

This is a guest post from Miss Erica, a friend of mine from college who I like to call Gertrude (I'm not entirely sure where that nickname came from, to be perfectly honest). My favorite Erica memory took place my senior year of college. I was studying with a couple of friends at Carrow's, and about halfway through the study session I noticed Gertrude studying with her friends at a table nearby. We said a quick hello and all went back to studying (nerds? or totally smart awesome people? you decide). Later, my table went to pay our check and the waitress said Gertrude had already taken care of it. What?! Generosity out of NOWHERE. I'll seriously never forget that random act of kindness.
 
We've kept in touch via Facebook since college, and she was kind enough to write about a recent important first experience:

Let’s start at the very beginning…
I have been cursed. I love to sing, I learn lyrics almost automatically, I love musicals, but I can’t carry a tune.  However, I jumped at the chance of going to a “Sound of Music” sing-along.  I have always been one for costumes and belting out tunes (albeit, poorly), and I had shamefully never seen the entire “Sound Of Music” movie, always stopping before the Nazis had a chance to ruin the poor messenger boy, Rolfe, and break-up the happy, musical Von Trapp family.

The event was hosted by a comedienne/fake nun, answering her with “Of course, sister," and started with a costume contest. My friend and I dressed as the human equivalent of the “Favorite Things” song, she being the “favorite things,” and I being the things that could potentially ruin a day: “When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad.”  Though we were obviously beyond awesome, we were beat out of our prize by a man dressed as a lonely goat, complete with marionette strings, floppy ears, and elaborate make-up.  My costume was apparently eye-catching, though, because I was stopped by a stranger as I walked to the theater. She pulled over to take my picture, telling me she liked to take pictures of “weird things” and she “doesn’t even ask anymore.” 

Umm...thanks?

When the dog bites, when the bee stings...

When I'm feeling sad...

The movie was the most wonderful thing I sat through. I knew it would be awesome when the beginning credits were rolling; “Eleanor Parker as the Baroness” came up on the screen and I instinctively booed. Everyone joined me.  During the movie, EVERYONE sang along, but better than that, it was incredibly interactive. We held up props during songs, cheered Maria, barked at Rolfe, creepily “ooooooooooh”ed when the Von Trapps were in the cemetery, advised Maria to kick the Baroness, let off poppers during the Captain and Maria’s first kiss (confetti filled the air), booed at Nazis (rightly so), and sang as though no one could hear our voices!

I would definitely recommend a Sound of Music sing-along to anyone who hates Nazis (that should be all of you).

So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, goodbye!