Tuesday, November 4, 2014

My Enemy, the Bee

I was assaulted by a bee today.

It was my lunch break. I had left to get a sandwich, and it was a nice Autumn day - especially warm-feeling after a week of windy cold. So I stopped at a table in the gardens by my office, anticipating a relaxing lunch with a book I wanted to finish.

I settled down at the table, spread out my picnic, and opened my book. A few minutes later, I looked up and saw I had a visitor - a large bee was circling my sandwich. I recognized this bee from other times of attempted picnics in that area, and I told it to buzz off, knowing it wouldn't listen to me. I swatted the air around it, hoping to coax it into thinking a breeze was carrying it away, but it was determined. After a few send-offs from me, it disappeared and I hoped victory had come my way, as I returned to reading.

But Fate is capricious, and though she seemed to be on my side at the start  of the day, I found her suddenly turned against me.

The bee returned.

I may as well have been trying to keep separate two powerful magnets, in dissuading the bee from seeking my sweet sandwich. They would not be parted. After a few dance moves on my part, and likely a few intrigued glances from distant neighbors at other tables, I gathered my belongings, and I left the table, looking back to confirm the bee had been left behind. The worry that I had accidentally swept up the fiend with my food was one I wanted to dispel quickly; my fear was unfounded, though, as I saw the bee flutter in the air near the table as I walked away.

I had a nightmare once when I was a child, about a swarm of killer bees coming after me, attacking me. It had only been a dream, but I've been weary of all bees since then. Though I had left this bee behind, it would not leave my mind. I found my appetite somewhat diminished as I sought refuge from the enemy.

Moving almost halfway across the courtyard, I stopped at a bench that was devoid of surrounding flowers and plants - just the place to hope for a quiet, bug-free lunch. I settled down again, pulled out the rest of my sandwich, and set my book next to me to be picked up once I finished eating. I hoped to eat somewhat quickly, just in case.

But bees are not the only demons that prey on picnickers.

As I sat looking at the fountain in front of me - the water had just started spraying out after a worker had finished unclogging its drain - a gray squirrel scampered near my bench. It bounced from place to place - and then stopped. A few feet from me. It looked up. Then it took a few steps, and remained a few feet from me.

And then it took a few more steps.

It crept closer.

The squirrel was clever, and not one to be caught in a trap. It was also not one to be too aggressive, knowing the danger of being too obvious. It twitched from side to side, slowly creeping up on me, not daring to move too quickly.

My first impression of goodwill toward this animal was quickly replaced by anxiety and surprise. Already feeling on my guard towards nature in general, I was not excited to fight another animal for the right to eat my lunch. I stomped my foot to shoo the squirrel away, and it jumped back a few steps, but did not leave. I looked at it, and it stared at my lap. I stomped again, extending my foot a little further, and it jumped back again. We maintained this stand-off for a bit, as I tried to get rid of the prize with faster bites.

Soon, however, I tired of the harassment this creature inflicted on me, and I stomped my foot even closer to it, and it jumped back even more, then ran under the bench and I watched it run to a nearby tree, and then a further off bush.

I finished off the sandwich, put the wrapping in my paper lunch bag, and finally picked up my book again to try to enjoy a fraction of my lunch break still. I had only made a dent of two pages in my reading, and I wanted to know what was about to happen!

But the book would have to wait for another lunch break - mine was being forced to end right then.

The bee had found me.

It came up quickly, buzzed right past me, and settled into a circle pattern just above my Orange Crush drink next to me. With a grunt of shock, I retried my previous efforts in flicking it away and shooing it gone.

It would not be pushed aside.

The bee bounced between my drink and my lunch bag, searching for the sweet smells it felt sure were exotic flowers from faraway lands. This poor bee was undaunted in its quest for the scent it had locked on. And it was driving me crazy.

So I gave up. I packed up my book, grabbed my purse, my lunch bag, and my drink, and began walking away, checking like last time that I was not carrying the bee with me. I was going back to my office, leaving a failed lunch break behind me.

I glanced behind me, and I received the confirmation that I had not trapped the pesky bee in my bag - but I also had not left it behind. It was hot on my trail, sometimes scaring me by disappearing near my hair or on my jacket. I couldn't be sure where it was, and I increased my speed to distance myself, just short of jogging - my pride kept me from letting the other picnickers nearby watch me run from an unseen attacker.

The nightmares of my childhood had become real life. I brushed at the air around my shoulders as I walked, waved over my head to clear myself from the bee's possible presence. I stopped looking back, only trusting that the concrete building's cold, lifeless atmosphere would persuade the bee to continue no further with me.

As I got close to my building, I felt confident that the bee had been left behind in the gardens, likely seduced by the scents of real flowers as we breezed by them. I returned to my office, relieved but grumpy. The beautiful day had been destroyed in my mind. Nature had ruined nature for me this day.

Finishing my lunch at my desk, I promised myself I would not be kept again from eating outside on beautiful days by such a tyrant as this bee. I had met this bee before, I realized, as I recalled a lunch weeks ago that had also been cut short. It was the bane of my lunching.

This bee has thwarted my happiness two times now, but I will not let it conquer anymore.

Our third meeting, Bee, will see me as victor of the gardens!

Sunday, June 15, 2014

An Ode to My Father on Father's Day

Guys.


This is my dad (and my sister, but this isn't about her). Not the best picture, but it is one of the most recent I have, so we have to go with it. He's got dark hair (maybe getting a little distinguished gray), just so you can picture the main with the halo around the top of his head. You can decide whether you think that halo is from the window or from a life of righteous living. I can't be sure it's not from both.

This man likes when his daughters tackle him where he's sitting so they can snap a couple handfuls of pictures. He likes biking, on pavement trails and raggedy off-road trails. He likes photography and capturing the scenic beauty around him - whether it's of the marshy swampland and its bird inhabitants or a mountain hike and the trees and plants thriving there. He hates wearing denim jeans and hasn't worn a pair since he was a young man. He loves ice cream and makes sure the house supply does not last too long. He makes the best pancake art. He laughs sincerely when you make a joke - it seems like a small thing, but it's amazing how powerful that response can be. He looks great when he wears red. He was working on his Ph.D. in French Literature when he was struck by an existential crisis of the soul, and when he made his way out of it, he found him selling life insurance (that might be an extremely dramatic interpretation of events, but I like the visual it creates in my imagination). Providing people with good life insurance is a noble profession, so he touched many lives for good, and I can appreciate the change.

Also, he recently fought off a biker gang attempting to steal his camp site*. So that's pretty cool.

He's pretty super dope. And he's my dad.

Yeah, I know, you're all super jealous. Sorry, not everyone gets to be so lucky.

*This retelling also may be an extremely dramatic interpretation of events, but I like the visual it creates in my mind. To be fair, the bike gang was incredibly amiable and didn't actually attempt to break any of his bones, though they joked that they could take him. Note: they only joked, because they knew they couldn't. They didn't dare actually try anything...

Monday, April 28, 2014

Childhood Aspirations and A Greater Calling

When I was younger, I dreamed of becoming a hand model.

I watched QVC and practiced the twisting and shifting of shiny rings on my fingers. I maintained long nails from a young age, trimmed tidily (kind of) and kept clean according to the rules my father placed on nails of a certain length. I anxiously and fastidiously tended to dry knuckles during those winter months when my hands suffered through the extreme fluctuations of indoor and outdoor temperatures.

I did all I could to care for my hands, proud of what they were and how they danced and glided over everything I did.

Only two things kept me anxious about my future career. The clammy, sweaty nature of my palms, and the nail on the ring finger of my left hand. It had fallen off when I was younger, after being slammed in a door, and it grew in a little wonky - nothing too noticeable, but I worried for it under the cruel glare of the lights and the unforgiving eyes of the camera. But my right hand was lovely, I reasoned - and the women on QVC and the Home Shopping Network often showed off rings on their right hands, so it'd be fine!

But I failed to consider how difficult the hand modeling industry was to break into. And with no contacts, no scouts in little Ozaukee County, Wisconsin to discover me, and, quite frankly, no real effort in finding out how one becomes a hand model, my career never went past amateur level - that being walking around my house, showing my family members how much prettier their jewelry looked when on my fingers, glittering under the nearby lamp's soft glow.

Tonight, though, the flames of my career passions were reignited - the embers were fanned by a small group of casual friends around a delicious helping of mint oreo frozen custard. A friend was looking at one man's hands and considered them to be nice hands. We had another young man put his hands on display and considered them to be even nicer hands. Though my friend was focused on the men's hands, I placed my own hands on the table - partially because it was comfortable to lean on the table as I considered their hands, but mostly because I couldn't help joining in the comparison.

And my vanity was well-fed. With the oohs and aahs that immediately issued from their mouths, the dreams of my youth rushed to my memory as they whispered, "you could be hand model!" Smiling, I agreed that perhaps I could've, and I acknowledged there was a time that I wanted nothing more.

But the life of a supermodel is a hard one, and I knew the cigarettes and diet coke diets could only hurt my strong, healthy nails, and the stress of the runway would age and wrinkle my soft, ageless skin. And I decided one day, in my early twenties, that the fame and money and celebrity lifestyle was worth the price it would extract from me. Sure, I could go to any parties I wanted, date A-list actors, fly on private jets all around the world. But the hard-hitting lifestyle would ruin my hands - this career would not have a long shelf life, and after maybe 5 years of being hand modeling's "It" girl, I'd be left with shriveled fingers and yellow nails for the last 80 years of my life. And I didn't want that.

Better to be able to physically touch the lives around me for good with these hands, then to never be able to physically touch anything at all. Perhaps not as many people know these hands as well - they're not reaching people all around the world in magazines and television - but those who have known these hands, they have been truly touched. I've always preferred quality over quantity.

And so I sat there in that custard shop, sharing beauty and happiness with a small group of friends. And I felt fulfilled in my life. Yes, I could've been a hand model. But just because it is not my profession, it doesn't mean I can't live my life influencing those around me for good with these gifts and talents I have been given. I can still share that which I have with others. Beauty is not only for the rich and famous. Everyone deserves the opportunity to bask in beauty's rays.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Sochi 2014: Olympic Athletes to Watch

Guys, it's time.

The Winter Olympics, my second favorite Olympics, is TWO DAYS AWAY! Are you as excited as I am?!

If we're having real talk right now, my excitement and knowledge about this upcoming Olympics is definitely lacking, at least compared to my usual research and anticipation. The Summer Olympics holds my heart, forever and always. I just get those sports so much more. Who would choose to spend most of their time in the frigid winter cold? But I do love watching people do things they're really good at, and the Winter Olympics is full of that kind of thing, so I'm totally into it. Plus, as I say each Olympics, how can I not watch something where my loyalties for a specific team are insanely intense, even if I don't know any of the players beforehand? Something about cheering USA! and tearing up over Visa commercials just gets to me, you know?

In all honesty, I'm more concerned that the Olympics will be focused more on the safety and (possible lack of) security for the athletes than on the athletes themselves. Because so far, I'm not feeling super confident about how safe Sochi's looking right now. But who knows? It's Russia - our media could be making a bigger deal about this than necessary, in advance?

At any rate, assuming the figurative heart of our country - the US Olympic Team - makes it safe and sound to, and through, the Olympics, we've got some people to start caring about!

So, I know you've all been waiting for this - here is my short-list of some of the Athletes To Watch:

Shani Davis, Speed Skating
Guys, I just really like Shani. I cheered for him in 2010. I cheer for him in 2014. He's won gold in the last 2 Olympics for the 1000m race. If he wins again this year, he'll be the 1st American to win the same event 3 Olympics in a row! (If he does it before Shaun White competes, if we want to get technical here...). He's just so tall and so fast and so good and I love him. That's really all. I just really love him.

Alex Ovechkin, Russia, Hockey
I know. He's Russian. Playing on the Russian Hockey Team. I can't cheer for the Russians in Hockey. It's against my nature immediately after watching Miracle. BUT. But. Ovechkin is also a DC hero - he normally plays for the Washington Capitals, and he's been the NHL MVP 3 times as a Capital. He basically is the Washington Capitals. He's just really good, you guys, and while I can't cheer for the Russian hockey team overall, I will cheer for Ovechkin. He's just so fun to watch. I can't ignore pure talent, y'all.

But don't worry. I watched Miracle last week, so I'm all about America. Kate Barlow, Washington DC! Who do you play for? I play for... ... ... The UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!

Jamie Anderson, USA, Slopestyle
So, Slopestyle is a thing. And it's kind of awesome. And Jamie's awesome at it. She's got a smooth style to her and has some great tricks to pull out on the course. I wish I could sound cooler here by whipping out sweet snowboarding terminology here, but let's be real: I don't know the first thing about the technical aspect of snowboarding. I just know I snowboarded once in my life, down the bunny hill all day, and thought it was really cool and pretty fun, but I could never master the chair lift, so my winter sports career never really took off...but Jamie's career is pretty impressive so far, and I'm excited to learn the sport a little bit more while watching her nab gold!

Jamaican Bobsled Team, Jamaica, Bobsledding
Duh.
It's not the 4-man team the beloved movie has made us always look for. But the 2-man bobsled team has also overcome its share of obstacles to get to Sochi. Namely, monetary obstacles. But they should be kissing the feet of the director of that classic film, because when people found out there wasn't enough money to get the bobsledders to the Olympics, people jumped and donated thousands of dollars in online campaigns to help them get there. Thanks Internet! They're probably not expected to really compete for the gold - but you never know. You just never know.

Gracie Gold, Figure Skating - her name is Gold. Gold, you guys! That's a lot of expectation for an athlete in the Olympics. But this girl can probably handle the pressure. She's the 2nd-best US female figure skater on our team, according to the results of the US Championships, where she went from 9th to 2nd! So we know she can battle and pull off greatness when she needs to. She's a cute girl, and I think she'll be fun to watch. Also, fun fact: when she gets nervous before skating, she juggles to calm herself down. I love it! I am now jealous of two talents she has that I lack...

Danny Davis, USA, Snowboarding
Danny is the "old man" of the snowboarding world. He was supposed to be a big name at the 2010 Olympics, but just before the competition, he seriously injured himself from drinking and driving an ATV...so we didn't get to cheer him on then. Very stupid mistake now in the past, he's surprised everyone by making it on to the US Olympic team. Despite being one of the older guys in a sport dominated by young guns, it turns out that he's still rather spry and daring. He puts a lot of effort into doing things technically perfect - because if it isn't, why do it? He wasn't an athlete we were supposed to see in Sochi, and so that's exactly why I will be watching for him. I love a good surprise! And with an X Games gold medal taking him into the Olympics, I think we won't be the only ones watching him.

Women's Hockey Team, USA, Hockey
Guys, The Women's Hockey portion of the Olympics for the last 16 years may well just be re-titled, "USA vs. Canada, live at [insert Olympic city here]." Those two teams have dominated the competition for years, and then they meet in the Gold Medal round. And for the last 3 Olympics, the Canadians have walked away champions. And I'm sick of it. I don't know about you all, but I'm just really feeling it this year - this is USA's year. This is the year the women of the red, white, AND blue take back what is rightfully theirs: Olympic gold.

Hamelin Brothers, Canada, Speed Skating
Mainly I love them just because of this video. I love them and their mother. Brothers! In the Olympics! Together! So much familial love. I can't handle it.



Okay. I know I've missed at least half of the sports/competitions in the Olympics. I could only cover a handful of athletes. There are so many competitions I'm excited for: Skeleton (freaks me out), Luge, Curling, Ski Jumping. And so many athletes I will hear stories about and suddenly become their #1 fan. But for now, this is what I can offer in the run-up to the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics.

I wonder if any of you have been following a specific athlete or sport? Is there someone you'll be watching closely? Recommendations for me? Any P&G athletes videos you consider a must-see? (Amy Purdy and Marinela Mazilu were two favorites of mine)

Monday, January 27, 2014

A Pathetic Pity Post

Well, today started out strong enough.

I got to work on time (yay!). My boss was flying back, so he wasn't going to be in until after 4pm this afternoon (yay!!). The sun was out and warming the world around me (YAY!!!).

All in all, a good start, you know?

And then, it all fell apart between 4:45 and 6:15pm...I physically started to crumble.

My shoulder started to hurt after I got off the phone with an airline - I think the way I was holding the phone between my shoulder and my ear while I was on hold did something weird to the shoulder. Anyway, it's been hurting more as the night has gone on. It's super lame, I can't believe I hurt myself waiting on hold.

And then when I got up to talk to a coworker just before I left work, I felt a pang near the ball of my foot. I took a quick look at it and saw that it was a little red there. But I couldn't look at it more intensely because my boss was sitting on the couch next to my desk and I didn't want him to think I was a total weirdo for poking around at my foot...so instead, I walked home, tenderly, and checked it out in the comfort of my bedroom.

I have the absolute worst luck with stepping on things and having things poke into my foot. So I'm perpetually concerned that a foreign object is going to enter my bloodstream through my foot and kill me. I'll actually be really impressed if that's not how my story ends one day.

Upon inspection tonight, I feel 90% sure that it's a small blister. Which is good and bad. It's good because that means it's not the deadly foreign object I'm in constant fear of. But it's bad because there's a 10% chance it really is that foreign object, and I just can't see it to get it out; also, a blister isn't something i can just get rid of. I have to wait to let it heal itself, basically. So I'm just limping around the house, because of a teeny tiny blister, until it wants to go away...BOOOOOOO.

And after getting home, when I turned on the tub to soak my feet, I pulled back and hit my elbow on the towel rack behind me. UGH.

Isn't my life the hardest? I'm physically deteriorating. Reeeeaaallly slowly.

But a commercial just came on during Jeopardy, that Billy Joel is coming to DC this Summer, so things aren't as bad as they seem, I guess.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

An Olympics Warm-Up

My traditional Athletes To Watch list is coming soon, but I've been feeling seriously Olympics excitement-deprived this year, since most of my days get filled with work, and I just haven't been able to watch/read/get inundated by as much Olympic energy as prior years. And I thought you may be feeling the same way.

So, to get your tear ducts ready for the 2 weeks of heart-tugging stories, and to get you inspired to sign up your kids for non-traditional sports (I'm assuming most of you reading are past the chance for your Olympic dream, and it's now time to drape that dream on to the unprepared shoulders of your young children), here's a commercial. If you haven't seen it, be prepared to love it. If you have - I know you pressed play of your own accord, because you already love it, like I do:



Oh man, I love the Olympics. And piano music. So much tenderness!

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

DON'T YELL-TYPE AT ME!

Sometimes, when people email me, telling me to do something, IN ALL CAPS, I want to respond:

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Could you repeat that?"

Because, I apologize, I just couldn't hear your message - the written email wasn't loud enough for me to understand.

My actual responses are generally rather cordial, though. I usually can talk myself into thinking the person accidentally pressed CAPS lock and either didn't realize it before they sent the message or just felt like it was too much work to rewrite the message after they noticed everything was in ALL CAPS.

Because that can happen.