Amy Lu's View

What’s around the corner in 2022?

At best, that may feel like a disappointing question, as covid has certainly taught us that our plans can quickly go awry. At worst, that question can feel terrifying as we wonder what additional covid variants, political upheaval, beloved celebrity death, etc. might be headed our way. 

I’m pondering corners and what is around them with inspiration from a new year and old Frog and Toad story, “The Corner.” 

In “The Corner” Frog recounts how as a young frog, his father told him spring was just around the corner, so Frog went out to look for it. Frog was met with disappointment on his search as he kept finding boring things like some dry grass, some mud, and a worm. Of course, all these things are spring, just not the sexier side of spring, which Frog eventually experiences when the sun starts shining and the birds start singing. 

I love the idea of a sunny, bird and flower-filled spring being just around the corner, but also don’t want to be gloomy about the present as I wait for things to get better, or be disappointed when I don’t get exactly what I hope for. 

“What are you looking forward to in the new year?” I’ve seen this question posed as a way to welcome in the new year, so I’m going to give answering it a try. What do I hope is just around the corner for 2022?

At first, I didn’t think I was looking forward to much in 2022, but after thinking about it for a couple of days, I’ve actually created a pretty big, if not exciting, list. And though these anticipated joys are small, they actually ARE exciting to me.  

This list is possible because I purposefully zeroed in on macro level things that I have a fair amount of control over and that do seem pretty likely to happen. Some of these are looking forward to old favorites (running, sleeping in) and others are more aspirational than others and do veer into “mostly-feasible” goal territory. 

So, in no particular order, things I’m looking forward to being around the corner (the corner may be hours, days or months away):

• A Pigeons From Hell gig. I’m pretty sure our band can at least play outdoors in Mike’s driveway (adjacent to the garage where we practice) but we will happily come to YOUR driveway or backyard, too! (Seriously, let me know.
• #2022snazzysnapshots photo challenge–please share yours!
• Watching more Masterclass
• Watching Peacemaker, Station 11, Ted Lasso (and all the other geeky TV we will watch).
• Enjoying coffee, cheese, crackers/chips, brussel sprouts, noodles, mushrooms, Coke Zero, Hai Hai spring rolls, hummus, peanut butter, poached eggs, nuts, Halo, yogurt–etc., all these Amy food & beverage favorites and more
• Daily dance breaks
• Weekend “Lie-ins” (yes doing that annoying thing of using a British term) while listening to NPR with StanLee
• Getting caught up on my magazine reading
• Running
• Latch hook (specifically, finishing current polar bear pillow project and then starting rabbit project for my friend Steve)
• Trying a new restaurant–not set on a specific one, dine in if possible or takeout
• Trying a new–to me–bourbon; trying a new–to me–red wine
• Gaining any level of appreciation for rum and tequila
• Taking some clothes to Savers and clearing out some space
• Wearing my new winter coat–it’s such a gorgeous color and the lining is so soft. Although I won’t be disappointed if spring comes early and I don’t get to wear it too much.
• Wearing a somewhat fancy dress–even if it’s just at home for a selfie
• Going to parks and walking and exploring–state parks, city parks, county parks
• Hearing some outdoor music
• Getting some nights of better sleep (qualifiers are key here)
• Reading some books (in addition to listening to audiobooks); reading part of a book every day?
• Listening to the “Glass Hotel” audibook
• My birthday–it’s not a milestone and I may need to celebrate with only Chad and the pets but damn I love birthdays.
• My 350th blog post (only 3 more to go!) AND finishing my Frog & Toad Challenge
• Improving my home office, i.e. cleaning out some junk
• Listening to the new Live Wire Best News podcast (and continuing to listen to the current Live Wire and TBTL podcasts, of course)
• Chad transferring Willy Porter’s “Leaving Tomah Home” from cassette tape to MP3
• Being in our sunroom
• At home Happy Hours with Chad
• Planning a vacation for 2023
• Trying a new hot sauce, any new-to-me hot sauce
• Using Babbel to learn at least un poco Spanish
• Spending time with friends in the same physical space. Probably won’t be as much as I’d like but I’ll appreciate every moment.

Whatever is around the corner, and whether or not I can share it with others in person, I’ll definitely share it online!

“What did you learn in 2021?”

I’ve seen that question posted in a wide range of places, so it seems like a good question to tackle. And it does require tackling–as I’ve been pondering it, I realize learning isn’t so straightforward. Often learning starts, and stops, and then builds–so if I’m getting better at something this year that I started in 2020 or 1978, does that still count for 2021? Or what if I’m relearning something I forgot? (Author James Clear includes “relearning” in his year-end reflection). 

I have to put a shout-out to my Mom here: I learned the saying “I’ve forgotten more than they’ll ever know” from her (she was referring to education experts). I now realize that she probably didn’t originate that (and I’ve learned there is a “I’ve Forgot More Than You’ll Ever Know” song) but I’ll always think of it as “her” saying.

And what type of learning am I talking about? At first, I went to the “life-lesson” category of instruction, such as the epiphanies the boys would have by the end of a South Park episode (As introduced by Kyle saying “You know, I think I learned something here today.”) These are pearls of wisdom and insight such as “My sense of control is mostly an illusion but I can still be happy” and “I need more patience with other people” and “I want to be more present” (all things I actually did start to learn and get better at and then forget and re-learn in 2021, 2020, and 1978, etc.) 

Along with these broader life lessons, I also learned some more distinct pieces of knowledge and skills. All these learnings are interconnected–learning how to play a song, for example, definitely teaches me some life lessons about perseverance and bravery–but I do want to focus on some individual facts, skills and realizations specific to 2021:

• Pacific Madrone Trees are gorgeous and inspiring. We discovered these trees on our vacation to the Pacific NW. I’ve never seen anything like them and couldn’t get over their color and feel and couldn’t stop taking photos of them. (We also learned about, and then promptly forgot, about so many other things on this vacation including whales, salmon, mushrooms, banana slugs and birds).
• I learned my lines for 4 different plays, including the “What a Piece of Work is Man” monologue from “Hamlet”
• I learned, thanks to my incredibly talented and educated theater friend Dani who was my “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)” castmate, that there is no subtext in Shakespeare! (This may explain why I’m not a big fan of Shakespeare. I find it rather tedious when characters just say what they mean…and they say it again and again and again). 
• I learned how to play keyboards and sing at least 20 different songs for our church’s online coffee house.
• Nightclub Pringles exist/have existed! No, I have not tasted them and they may only be available in South Korea. I learned about these while listening to “Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me” and I would totally try them although I have no idea what “nightclub” could or should taste like. 
• The artist Margaret Keane created “big eye” artwork and her husband took the credit for many years, and StanLee and I could more or less successfully recreate a piece of her art for a church fundraiser.
• How to use Cub’s pickup service after they dumped Instacart.
• Fernet exists, and I like it with Diet Coke, and small amounts of it straight
• How to do a Covid saliva test–okay, more accurate I learned how NOT to do a Covid saliva test.
• Learned, forgot and then relearned how to stream movies on our TV
• How to use Overtone hair color (it doesn’t cover my grey hair very successfully but is easy to use, doesn’t require mixing, and smells great).
• There is a Harriet Alexander Nature Center in Roseville and it is very cool–hope to return in 2022. 
• Fundamental attribution error–mostly, I learned this is a tendency, but don’t grasp yet what it is. I think the heart of it is making mistaken assumptions about people’s motives. 
• Pickleball is a thing, a very popular thing. I have not played it, and only know what I do about it because a court opened up next to our beloved Brother Justus Distillery. 
• We are NOT supposed to put recycling in bags in the city of Minneapolis collection bins–we’re just supposed to dump it in free form. Wow, this makes it possible to fit so much more into the bins. Life-changing, and troubling– have I corrupted my last 5 or whatever years of recycling attempts? 

As I’ve been writing this post, I’ve heard Chad practicing the song “Least Complicated” by the Indigo Girls. Whoa, how meta–this song features the lyric “What makes me think I could start clean slated? The hardest to learn was the least complicated.”

I’m definitely not hoping for a clean slate in 2022, especially when it comes to learning. Even when I’m relearning or learning things that I’ve forgotten or even forgotten that I ever knew, I hope that the knowledge and experience is buried in me somewhere and creating a foundation for growth. 

But I definitely agree that the most “simple” things–drink less, be more present, don’t leave socks out anywhere within StanLee’s reach, be kinder, and this is how to stream movies–can be the most difficult to really grasp and put into practice. 

Our photo holiday card this year may make us look like barflies. (Not that we’re opposed to looking like barflies, but it’s not an accurate description of us–because of Covid and full schedules, we currently do most of our drinking at home). 

So I’m going to provide some context for the card that may make us seem less like barflies. However, it may make us seem like stalkers. 

Our card features photos of us hanging out at Teddy’s, a dive-y sports bar in the Roosevelt neighborhood of Seattle, that we visited while on vacation. 

We’re not sports fans, and Teddy’s wasn’t that close to the downtown hotel we were staying at, but visiting Teddy’s was basically a pilgrimage for us. We wanted to visit Teddy’s because it’s one of the favorite hangouts of Andrew, a co-host of our very favorite podcast, “Too Beautiful To Live (TBTL)”. I’ve written several blog posts about TBTL, and we talk about it quite a bit, so you might recognize this. 

To be clear, we did not go to Seattle just to stalk, I mean see, Andrew, or any of his favorite hangouts. We went to Seattle because that’s where we embarked on our small “uncruise” of the Salish Sea. But, since we were going to be in Seattle…why not make a pilgrimage to the place we’ve so frequently heard Andrew talk about on the show?

Of course we really wanted to meet up with Andrew…so we did reach out to him, via email, in a completely socially acceptable and not creepy or weird way. We casually let him know when we would be in Seattle and threw out how awesome it would be if we happened to run into him so we could buy him a drink. And Andrew was very gracious about our invitation, but had other plans. 

I won’t lie, we were disappointed that it didn’t work out for us to hang out with our imaginary friend Andrew. (TBTL fans often refer to the show’s co-hosts as our imaginary friends because we feel like we know them, but realize we aren’t really friends. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to say in a conversation “Oh, my friend Andrew blah blah blah”).

Even without an Andrew sighting, it was cool to visit Teddy’s, a fun bar in its own right. Teddy’s felt like it would be right at home in NE Minneapolis with the other classic divey bars. It was also good to have inspiration to explore a Seattle neighborhood that was outside of downtown and a place we probably wouldn’t have gone as tourists. 

Like any good pilgrimage, having a real-world based experience makes us feel more connected to this thing we love that is mostly intangible. (Visiting Teddy’s and the Roosevelt neighborhood was similar in many ways to the Beatles Tour I took of Liverpool way back in the day). Now when we hear Andrew talk on TBTL about visiting Teddy’s or the Whole Foods by his apartment, we can really picture it. (Did I mention that we also walked past Andrew’s apartment? It was totally non-stalky…it’s not like we took selfies on his street or anything) (Editor’s Note: Amy only didn’t take a selfe outside his apartment because Chad pointedly noted that that would, in fact, be quite stalky). We also got to see the Broadcast Coffee, featured on TBTL, that we get our beloved coffee from through a subscription (it was closed by the time we got there so didn’t actually go in). 

Most importantly, it was really awesome for Chad and me to have this goofy shared mission. This was totally a Chamy endeavor. The fact that most people, even our most sympathetic friends, wouldn’t really get it made it all the more special. 

But there are folks who might get the Teddy’s Pilgrimage–other TBTL fans. One of the reasons we love TBTL is that it has such a devoted fanbase, and we love feeling part of that community. Which brings me to another piece of our card that needs some explaining: We signed it “Minnesotens” because TBTL fans are known as “Tens” — as in there are tens of listeners of the podcast. Okay, I’ll stop explaining now, just trust me that it’s endearing. 

The very reason I made this photo card in the first place was not just to confuse recipients and/or bore folks with this lengthy explanation, but to send the card to other Tens who participate in a holiday card exchange. Now is that a cool community based on a podcast or what? So yes, I am also admitting that this was not our “primary” card so if you got this card and you are not a Ten you could feel special and/or annoyed. 

We signed the card, “Let the fun begin,” not just because we like fun (ahem?) but that is one of the ubiquitous sayings/slogans from TBTL (okay, it’s actually from an “audio drop” of Tom Shane played frequently on TBTL https://audio.marsupialgurgle.com/audio/letthefunbegin.m4a and I’ll spare you a trip down the rabbit hole of how key audio drops are to the TBTLverse). 

Whether you find our TBTL-themed holiday card weird, nonsensical, boring, or slightly scary, I hope it inspires you to appreciate all the hobbies, interests, communities, etc. that bring you comfort, joy, and connection. 

Now we’ll start planning our next vacation to Portland to stalk Luke, TBTL’s other co-host. I mean, make a totally normal and appropriate visit of appreciation to the city where Luke lives. (Luke is also the host of “Live Wire,” so at the very least we can buy tickets to a live show of that). 

I was surprised to feel a little remorse as we took down our Christmas tree today. 

I usually feel a little bit sad, but mostly relieved, to undertake this end of the holiday season task. But this year, as I felt the still-rather-soft, not-completely-dried-out needles, I thought, “Hmm, maybe this tree still has some “life” left in it. Maybe we shouldn’t be taking it down quite yet.” 

This was unusually early for us to take our tree down, but this Sunday when we didn’t have too much going on and StanLee was away at a playtime, seemed like a good opportunity. We probably typically wait too long to take down the tree. As Chad said, waiting until the needles are all dried out and falling all over the place isn’t ideal, and we usually pick a time when I’m just sick of the tree and grumpy and/or hungover. (Okay, the grumpy and/or hungover can really happen at any time but was NOT my state today). 

I did ask Chad if we should start naming our Christmas trees–would that make it easier to say goodbye to them? You know, like “Thanks, Bruce (yes, an homage to Bruce the Spruce), it’s been a pleasure to have you as a guest this holiday season, and now it’s time to wish you a fond farewell and throw you out in the snow bank.” Chad’s reply was “You’re adorable, and that’s a terrible idea–we’d NEVER get rid of a tree we named.”

My Christmas tree quandary got me pondering exits–was P.T. Barnum right? Should you “always leave them wanting more”? My tree definitely left me wanting more–at least a little. A little more light, a little more specialness. 

But, I am also ready to not have to deal with dead needles and relieved that we got the ornaments put away. I’m relieved that the stress of the holidays is over, too.

When is it a good time to let go? Perhaps when you’re not quite ready, but before you are totally over it. (Yes, “it” can be a Christmas tree or many other things in life). 

AND…we still have a Christmas tree up! Yes, we took our real tree down today, but we still have our fake tree up. I’m sure it will be up at least until MLK Day–even if I don’t decide to make it a non-Christmas, holiday agnostic, running medal tree. 

Is this long goodbye to the holiday season healthy? I’m not sure, but it IS fortuitous because today, just after we had taken our real tree down, I got THE MOST awesome ornament from my friend Stephanie–Bernie Sanders looking pissed at the 2020 inauguration. Honestly, all winter holidays aside, Bernie is so awesome that he may become just a standard piece of our home decor (like our John Denver and K-9 ornament). 

Our Christmas tree has taught me a lot…know when to make an exit (write shorter blog posts?), know when to let go…and every day can be a holiday with Bernie.

Now that 2021 is over, I can officially announce that I did NOT make my goal of running 1400 miles during the year. And I’m mostly okay with that. 

I’m pretty sure that no one else in the world remembers or knows that I had this goal, but I still feel the need to be public about not making it because I share so much about my running via this blog and social media. It’s only honest to share the agony of defeat along with the thrill of victory, right?

Don’t worry, I’m actually not in agony or sadness or anything beyond mild disappointment. I just wanted to evoke a quote I remember from childhood that I thought Howard Cosell said but Google just informed me it was made famous by Jim McKay on ABC’s Wide World of Sports. 

I do think there is value in taking some time to think about the goals we don’t achieve, along with celebrating the ones we do. So is there anything for me to learn in this particular goal I didn’t make?

To put things in context, this was a small goal, or at least a goal I hadn’t invested a lot of emotional energy in. Not only was it a goal that others were unaware of, I didn’t even set it myself until mid November. That’s when I realized that as I was getting close to the end of 2021 I could reasonably make a yearly running total of 1400. I even toyed with setting my sights on 1500 miles but decided that would be pretty ambitious in light of the constraints for me of winter weather running. 

I came pretty close to making my goal–I ran 1,390.2 miles in 2021. Certainly a fair amount of running and more than the 1,304.14 miles I ran in 2020. But slightly less than 10 miles short of my 2021 goal. Not surprisingly, getting so close but not making it is rather frustrating, especially as I was capable of running that additional 10 miles. Capable, but I chose not to risk falling on icy sidewalks or catching Covid at the gym to attain a goal that felt pretty arbitrary.  

I think that’s my key takeaway from not making this goal: It was my choice not to complete it because I didn’t feel it was meaningful enough to be worth the risks and hassle, and I’m proud of myself for making that choice. I’m proud because I realized and accepted that my main motivation was just to have something to brag about on Facebook, and I could let that go. What I really wanted to accomplish by running (at least at this point in the year) was just to get cardio exercise and I could do that safely (if tediously) via our exercise bike. 

Of course there are important and meaningful goals that we can’t achieve because of circumstances beyond our control, and  that can be heartbreaking. But realizing that we can adjust or even let go of a goal that isn’t particularly meaningful or realistic can be freeing and even empowering. 

This life lesson about goals does NOT mean won’t continue to set goals or challenges for myself, especially in this season of resolutions. And I’m sure some of my goals (which I may or may not publicly announce) will continue to be silly and unattainable. I might even set slightly higher goals for myself, now that I’m a little wiser about understanding that not reaching a goal isn’t necessarily a big whoo and that there can be value in the process of pursuing a goal even if it doesn’t end in success.

After all, if goals were too easy they wouldn’t really be goals, would they? Now “easy” is relative and changing, even for the same person, but let’s just say I don’t need to set a goal to spend more time on Facebook. 

But I think a helpful goal for me for 2022 will be to set goals after I’ve spent a little more time and energy reflecting on my priorities and what is meaningful to me and why. 

I haven’t set any 2022 running goals yet (I usually don’t set any yearly running goals until February and they are mostly vague) but I’m pretty wide open–I’m considering everything from running the Twin Cities Marathon in October (it’s the 40th anniversary!) to cutting back on running so I can spend more (any, really) time on strength training. Most likely, I’ll ponder some different alternatives and land in place with goals more or less like the ones I’ve had this year–run as much as I can without going too nuts, and “earn” some more race medals and t-shirts that I have no use for.

Whatever I do, I won’t have to set a goal to blog about it. 

My smart phone is trying to kill me–and it’s not with 5G.

“My smart phone is trying to kill me–with tennis elbow.” Hmm, that sounds like a lyric from a punk country song. 

So now the disclaimers: My case of tennis elbow is actually very mild, and self-diagnosed. Everything I will write in this post will not be based on any professional medical or scientific knowledge but will be based on Googling and hyperbole employed for entertainment purposes.

After a couple of weeks of having mild pain in my elbow that started for no discernable reason, I finally did some Googling yesterday to see if I could learn more about it. I wanted to explore possible causes so I could also explore possible solutions. 

My pain was, and is, primarily just annoying. It’s really only noticeable when I try to lift a full pot of coffee, pull out a whisky bottle stopper, squeeze a tube of makeup, and brush my hair–things I do at least daily, but not hourly. But I was, and am, a little worried that the pain might get worse and eventually be a problem when I am drumming or playing the piano or flailing my arms in a frenzied muppet dance. 

I was a bit hesitant to Google about anything health related because, as we know, I might convince myself that I have prostate cancer or something. But the interwebs do seem to suggest that I have “tennis” elbow, even though I don’t think I have ever played tennis at any point in my lifetime, and definitely not in the last month. For not only is playing tennis the quintessential activity that leads to my elbow pain condition, so is texting and other mobile phone-based activities such as swiping. (Interestingly, cutting meat is also a traditional cause, but again, not an activity I’m engaged in). 

So should I call my condition “Cell phone elbow” instead of “Tennis elbow”? Well, that’s actually a little murky. There is word on the web of “cell phone elbow” but that phrase is actually used for “cubital tunnel syndrome”–which is more like carpal tunnel syndrome (which I have also flirted with). “Tennis elbow” is properly named “lateral epicondylitis.” And both can also be caused and aggravated by regular old computer and laptop use. 

Huh. Well, trying to moderate my cell phone use might not cure me, but I don’t think it will hurt me and might even be beneficial in areas of my life that have little to do with elbows. 

I don’t think of myself as an excessive cell phone user–I’ve never even been on TikTok or Tinder–but…BUT. 

Once I take a moment to think about my cell phone use, I can see that while it might not be excessive by the standards of a 21st century young person, it could definitely be enough to cause “tennis” elbow in a 21st century middle aged lady. (Although another surprising fact: Tennis elbow is most common between people ages 30-50! So I am too old for tennis elbow…does that mean I’m “young” for my age?!!). I DO use my phone frequently to text/Facebook message, browse Facebook and Instagram, and do a lot of internet shopping. 

So it might be a good idea to scale back these activities, especially since many of them can also be done on a laptop, which for now, at least, I’m going to hope is less elbow-problematic. And in use-cases where I can’t use a laptop–primarily when I am watching TV and have a kitty on my lap–it’s probably good for me to just focus on watching TV. Even if it is not terribly stimulating superhero TV–I should probably focus, or just start watching more engaging TV. 

And that may be the real benefit of trying to reduce my cell phone elbowprint–cutting down on my “multitasking.” Yes, I know that I’m not productive when I’m multitasking–no one is–but that’s primarily how I use my phone–to do something while I’m supposed to do something else, or when I’m between doing something else (as in walking from one room in my house with a computer to another room in my house with a computer). 

More distressing and challenging than attempting to dial back on using my smart phone (which I’m just going to throw out here is an Android, not an iPhone–sorry to be a hater but I am totally an iPhone/Apple hater) is also trying to cut down on latch hooking. 

Yes, I find latch hooking a totally worthy endeavor from every perspective–spiritual, emotional, moral, intellectual, social–but it seems like the repetitive motion it requires is questionable for elbow health. No, I can’t find any interwebs information to support or even address this–I guess the market of latch hookers with tennis elbow is too small–but it seems worth pursuing.

So, in summary: For the longish short term, less smart phone usage (unless I’m taking selfies). For the short, short term, less latch hook.

 Texting/messaging, shopping, social media usage, and most importantly blogging (oh yes, and “working”)  will continue on a laptop or chromebook, all with the goal of preserving uninhibited drumming, hair brushing, and booze access. 

Oh yes, and more focus…wait, what was I writing? I think I need a drink. 

Baking and enjoying holiday cookies is a beloved tradition for many people. I think this is lovely and wouldn’t want to diminish this joy for anyone, but I did not grow up in a home of baking, and the constant presence of and talk about sweets makes me twitchy. Without going into too much detail about my absurd thinking, “cookie talk” inspires an inner dialogue in me about my food and life choices that never ends up in a happy or healthy place.

But the Frog and Toad story, “The Cookie,” like all Frog and Toad stories, makes me happy. Yes, it’s about cookies, but also about willpower and friendship and priorities.

Recently, in the last month or so, I attended online training about making healthy changes. The instructor explained  that willpower is a limited resource and advised we should not needlessly tax it. We should control our environment and not force our future selves to make choices that might exhaust our willpower (in other words, don’t stock your house with chips and booze, AMY). 

At least, I THINK I attended this training. I even remember liking it–although this was not a new idea for me, it was presented in a helpful way, and clearly I need to hear this message again as I have not implemented it. But I can NOT recall the details of when or where or how I experienced this training. Am I gaslighting myself? Did I have some astonishingly specific and helpful (and boring, as far as reality misapprehensions go) dream or hallucination?  

At least my dilemma isn’t ironic, because it’s not training about improving my memory that I can’t fully recall. 

Whatever the source of this wisdom, it makes a great deal of sense to me that willpower isn’t a moral attribute but a valuable asset that should be carefully used. Why set ourselves up for failure by surrounding ourselves (me) with snacks and booze? Well, probably because I WANT and intend to fail, but also want to create the illusion that I want to succeed. 

Frog and Toad get it, as demonstrated in “The Cookie.” In this story, Frog and Toad go to greater and greater lengths NOT to eat up all of their cookies, which of course they end up doing because they really want to eat all the cookies.

While I like cookies, I can more or less demonstrate willpower around them… BUT, if the “The Cookie” was renamed “The Bourbon” it would be very accurate for Amy (but perhaps less marketable as a children’s story. But just imagine the possibilities for a reboot of the classic “If You Give a Mouse a Bourbon”!). 

I often think about what is more challenging for me…doing something that is hard but generally good for me–like running–or NOT doing something that is enjoyable but ill-advised–like drinking too much alcohol or eating too many processed snacks. 

I often get kudos for running, which I love, but perhaps I should get some more head shakes for my consumption choices? AND there are plenty of things I DON’T do that I think I should–weight training, yoga, meditation, paying attention to StanLee, practicing piano, reading the New York Times.

“The experts” seem to agree that motiviation is key, and that if you have positive motivation to do something–like “meditating will help me feel more relaxed”–you will have more success than if you are just trying to avoid negative consequences.

I think I have also read or heard (again can’t really remember) that willpower is like a muscle. So just like there are limits to our physical strength, there are limits to how much lifting our willpower can do. But if willpower is a muscle, we can do training and make it stronger. I believe we can do this, even though I haven’t had much success with literal strength training or developing my capacity for willpower. And by “haven’t had much success” I mean I haven’t actually tried on either counts, other than occasionally waving some dumbbells around, and trying not to drink a whole bottle of wine in one night. 

I definitely know I have heard/read that habits are extremely powerful in influencing our behavior. (Although I haven’t actually read it and only own a copy of it, I think the book “Atomic Habits” is one such source). Once something is a habit, whether “good” or “bad”–we’re much more likely to do it. So knowing that, we can intentionally try to establish the habits we want and break, or better yet, never form, the habits we don’t want. 

I feel pretty well-equipped with wisdom and insight to make positive behavioral changes and stop habits that I don’t think serve me well, but, just like Frog and Toad, I still have issues with willpower. Whether it’s more helpful to say my willpower muscle is not very strong, or my supply of willpower is not very big, I frequently do (okay, eat and drink) things I don’t think I should. I think at some level my real motivations and desires aren’t aligned with my conscious thinking.

But unlike me, Frog and Toad don’t fret about their lack of willpower too much. They are much more realistic about accepting themselves and each other, and know that their friendship is more important than how many cookies they eat. 

Now THAT is a wise and helpful perspective that I should try to remember to cultivate.

I had no idea that there is a patron saint of theater until recently (10 minutes ago, when I did some Googling).

It’s Saint Genesius, and apparently, our cast and crew of the recent production of “Uh-Oh, Here Comes Christmas” did something to piss him off. 

How else to explain all the trials and tribulations we experienced for our live streaming production? Not only did we have to cancel our Friday night show because of the first snowstorm of the season, but our Saturday night show was beset by technical problems that caused us to have to stop several times because we had no audio. Yes, two out of three shows were impacted by calamity–even I can do that math and know that sixty-six percent of our run was cursed. 

Okay, maybe I am being a little dramatic. Yes, it is more likely that weather and a faulty laptop soundcard caused our woes, rather than a moody magical being. But this is a post about theater, after all, so drama seems warranted. And given my limited understanding of meteorology, much less computer tech, I might as well blame something supernatural. 

And it’s hard not to take our misfortunates personally, especially when in the midst of having lost sound for the third or fourth time, one of the cameras (one out of two) died. 

From my perspective, our tech problems were more demoralizing than the snowstorm. Yes, it was disappointing to have to cancel because of weather, but not entirely surprising. And once we made the decision, we had plenty of time to notify ticket holders and then got to relax at home with an unsuspected night off. 

But our sound issues (simply put, we had no sound) were completely unexpected, we had no plan B, and we had to experience them in front of a live virtual audience. An audience who had to wait in suspense along with us to see if the show would be able to continue. 

Although I wasn’t sure at the time what they were or weren’t seeing, our audience members who were still tuned in could see us sitting and standing around in the midst of our audio crisis. Luckily, we all played it pretty cool and we didn’t make too many weird or angry facial expressions or gestures (although Chad did put his head in hands when the previously mentioned camera died). Hopefully, we mostly conveyed an air of Zen patience. Although, in retrospect, I think it might have been more entertaining if we had pretended to break out in a cast brawl or did some interpretive dance. Next time!

Our technical director, show director, and theater owner handled our sound tech crisis admirably. This was an issue (rather laptop or deity related) beyond their control and they were calm, gracious, knowledgeable, optimistic and resourceful as they valiantly tried different solutions. 

It was a very stressful situation for them, and also for the actors. At least for me, it was rather terrifying, and disheartening, and also, boring (at least when we were waiting for the sound to come back). When we were in the midst of performing, it was very hard to stay focused, with the dread that the sound could crash again, especially if we moved too much (apparently our back-up mic was easily overwhelmed). 

And of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about when we would get to go home so I could commence with my after-show eating and drinking extravaganza. There was a box of crackers and a bottle of bourbon calling my name. 

Also, it was hard to re-start our show after a pause–what the hell were we just doing? Is anybody still watching? Or is everyone who is still signed into our Zoom webinar just asleep or passed out in front of their computers?

I’m pretty good at staying in my lane and out of the way  and letting subject matter experts deal with a problem , but it was icky to feel so helpless and lacking control. There was absolutely nothing I could do to fix the problem. The best I could do was to keep quiet so as not to be annoying or distracting and to not to make matters worse by swearing at the exact moment the sound came back. 

It was a powerful, if painful, lesson in patience and letting go. Ultimately, deciding when to quit felt  like the hardest thing: How long could we expect any audience members to wait for us? How long could we all stay awake? When should we gracefully give up and call it? 

I’m sure none of my readers are surprised to learn that I was torn because “MY” big scene–”The Juggler”–was the very last scene. Yes, yes, yes, it is a beautiful scene that all the audience members deserved to see, BUT I really wanted to do it because this was my last chance (at least for this run) to perform in it. And I couldn’t stop thinking about the one or two friends who hadn’t seen me perform in a long time who I hoped were still logged on so they could catch me. 

It does feel meta that our script had frequent references to amateurs under pressure  encountering performance difficulties. Can we pretend that we planned our snafus in a brilliant piece of staging? 

Ultimately, I tried to quiet all my anxiety by channeling Willian Shatner. No, not by embracing my belly and donning a girdle (although that may come) but by focusing on the joy in getting to perform a beautiful work with my fellow cast mates and production team, even if there wasn’t any audience. (This lesson stems from an inspiring  talk we heard Captain Kirk give at a Con years ago about the joy of performing for its own sake). 

This was a beautiful theatrical work, and as much as I wanted to share it with an audience (and yes, bask in the literal and metaphorical spotlight) just getting to perform it at all, for anyone, even just myself, was a gift and a privilege. And I got to share it with my dear fellow cast members and crew who remained gracious and open and present and supprortive despite all our frustrations and fears. 

We did eventually (only 45ish minutes late) wrap up the show with a surprising number of folks still logged in. I am so grateful to all our audience members who watched any of our performance, and especially those who patiently waited for us to finish. We even received some kind words of appreciation and praise from some audience members. I was especially moved by the words of Tom.

The great thing about live theater (even when streamed on-line) is that it’s real. And sometimes real is not what we expect — which is one of the things I love about it.”

–Tom, wise audience member

Wow. Thanks, Tom, for reminding me of why we do theater, and that being real is more important than being perfect. 

I’m still wondering what we did to Saint Genesius, though. Perhaps he really loves–or hates–Spam?

“And I want to thank you, for giving me the best day of my life. Oh, just to be with you, is having the best day of my life.”

“Thank You” by Dido

I didn’t feel organized enough this year to observe 30 Days of Gratitude, but I would like to offer an Unnumbered Minutes of Gratitude list. I was partially inspired by and responding to the list I created for my 2014 gratitude post–I don’t feel the need to refute anything on my earlier list, but definitely want to reflect on things I am presently grateful for and have an updated list for the last year or so.

Are these the best days of my life? That seems a little grand, but, in the spirit on Dido’s song (which I did last week at online coffee house) maybe they are, as it’s enjoying the small things with those you love (even if “with” means via online channels) that makes are our days special.

I Want to Thank “You” for (not exhaustive or in order):

• Pants related happiness and comfort: The new pandemic jeans I successfully found online — bigger than my pre-pandemic jeans, and bling-free so safer for wearing for extended periods of time; my Harry Potter lounge pants that make me feel everything is right with the world, even though I don’t really play in the Harry Potter space; my new sherpa-lined joggers that are decadently soft and warm (and especially appreciated now that it’s too cold for my HP pants)
• Church storytime via Zoom: We do this every Sunday morning and today we got to do a special Thanksgiving edition (books about family, friends, and food–no Pilgrims!) I get to discover and share delightful children’s books and reconnect with my children’s librarian soul. Here’s my book list of books we’ve read so far: MSUS Storytime Books
• Not having to vacuum out the oven this Thanksgiving: I think everything needed for our soy-based roast (a Gardein holiday roast) will fit in the air fryer.
• Upgrade to our coffee situation: Now we have a subscription to Broadcast Coffee, a Seattle-based company that we discovered through our beloved podcast TBTL (We even walked by Broadcast Coffee when we were in Seattle, although we didn’t go in as it was closed for the day).
• Speaking of Seattle…OUR VACATION: We finally got to take our small boat cruise of the Salish Sea in the Northwest. I can’t possibly capture all my gratitude for this experience in a list but I have posted several blog posts trying to share some of the wonder…
• Tea! Just because I love coffee doesn’t mean I can’t also enjoy tea, especially to help warm up my hands during the day.
• Fall leaves: All the leaves are gone now, but the trees turned some really spectacular colors this year and seemed to stay around longer in the season, which was really an unexpected gift in light of this summer’s drought.
• Ted Lasso: Yes, we got on this bandwagon rather late but love this show even though it doesn’t feature any superheroes, aliens, witches, or anything sci-fi-ey (although we aren’t caught up with it yet so I guess it’s possible that Ted is an android?)
• Getting to see friends and loved ones in person! No, not everyone I hoped to or as often as I would have liked, but still a gift (or maybe more of a gift because it can’t be taken for granted?)
• Getting to eat at restaurants (and even getting to sit at a bar or two!): Again, not as often as I hoped for but better than not at all.
• Working at home permanently: It’s not for everyone, but it is definitely for me (at least at this point in the Amy timeline. Younger Amy may not have appreciated it but middle-aged Amy is living her best work life). I also recognize that many people would love to work from home and can’t so I feel especially grateful.
• Our Sunroom: Speaking of working from home…We’ve had our sunroom for at least 15 years, but I’ve really got to take full advantage of it since I’ve started working from home (and just being at home more in general). Hey, it turns out that watching birds is actually kind of interesting!

• Making theater in physical proximity with other people again: Yes, I get grumpy about having to wear masks at rehearsals (and having to put on real clothes and drive to rehearsal) but it is priceless to create theater with people without the filter of a screen. And I even got to perform in front of an audience again and hear their reactions and laughter (not just imagine they were out there somewhere, somehow). 
• Making music with other people again! Our band Pigeons From Hell has not only been able to rehearse regularly but we even got to play an outside gig in front of people (even if most of them seemed deeply disinterested).
• Chad’s original songs: Chad has been writing his own songs and I love getting to hear him work on them.
• Truffle (the fungus not the dessert) cheddar cheese from Imperfect Foods and sweet potato hummus (also from Imperfect): There are so many foods I could list, but these two delicacies were unexpected and may be transitory (I’m not sure how long Imperfect will stock them). 
• My smart phone (Pixel 4a) camera: Not only did my phone conveniently take great photos on our cruise (check out the sunset photos!) it also took great photos of my nature excursions close to home. Yes, there is a danger that I can spend too much time taking photos rather than actually experiencing whatever I’m documenting, but taking photos also encourages me to look at things with more wonder and in an effort to find beauty in unexpected places. AND my phone has a great portrait setting that allows me to take rather flattering selfies without feeling like I’m totally trying to deny the reality of how I look. 
• Latch hook: I’ve definitely blogged about this of late, but my rediscovered hobby of latch hooking has been such a grounding activity for me that it just doesn’t feel right NOT to give it another shout-out here. 
• Blogging: Yes, I just love blogging. It helps me feel reflective and accomplished and somewhat in control of the rush of time. And I’m extra thankful for anyone who makes the effort to read one of my posts. 

I wasn’t planning on having a unicorn-themed weekend, but it was a happy surprise. 

And I’m talking about “real” unicorns here–the magical mythical horse-like creatures, not tech start-ups (and definitely NOT the more “adult” definitions that I wasn’t aware of until I did a little googling). 

How was my weekend defined by unicorns?* I finished my latch hook unicorn pillow project yesterday AND my library hold on a unicorn ebook came in so I could read it at church storytime today. 

I’m going to elaborate on both these events (it wouldn’t be much of a blog post if I didn’t!)

My latch hook adventure was notable because it was a bit of a departure for me. I used a super cheap, as in low-quality–I think tacky goes without saying, kit that I got on sale months and months ago at Michael’s. I knew purchasing it was a risk, and I was right to be skeptical–the yarn quality was pretty sketchy. This led me to try and complete it with leftover yarn I had from other kits. This mostly worked, except I didn’t have enough of the blue background color so I’m framing the mixed yarn as a choice (“The different colors and texture of the yarn adds dimension!”)

I’m also more invested than usual in this “craft” project because I had to sew! Yes, I had to sew the pillow together and sew the latch hook on it (thank goodness by hand, no machinery necessary). Now, this is a kit that was purportedly made for kids so the whole sewing thing shouldn’t have been that challenging, even for me, but again, the overall cheapness of the materials and the design made producing a workable pillow quite frustrating. I can’t imagine an actual child dealing with it, or a poor parent. 

But, I did it! And, if you don’t look too closely (and who in the world would) you won’t see the janky sewing job and the mismatched yarn and the edges of the latch hook canvas. It looks good enough in photos on social media, and that of course is my standard of excellence. Even though it’s a small project (the latch hook is only 10 X 10) my pride in it is outsized. I persevered and I accomplished a goal intended for 6-8 year olds.

I think I’m going to have to keep it, though–if anyone looks at it too hard, not only will they notice all the flaws, it will probably fall apart. I just hope I can find a place to display it where StanLee won’t eat it.

And Unicorn Encounter #2? I was able to read “Not Quite Narwhal” at church storytime today. I must have requested this book weeks ago just because it seemed to have potential (finding appropriate eBooks for Zoom storytime can be challenging) and I was pleasantly surprised by how delightful it was. It lead me to other cute and colorful and charming unicorn books, and even though I only read one other today at storytime, I might work more in. (A cool aside, I ended up doing a really sweet book about a rhinoceros and the “Narwhal” book ends with a rhinoceros feeling kinship with other horned animals. Another thematic win!) 

I’m not a unicorn expert, but I certainly dig the whole pop culture unicorn aesthetic. Yes, I know it is stereotypically aimed at young girls, but I unabashedly love rainbows and glitter. (I’m vaguely aware there is a more sinister/badass side to unicorns but I’m not delving into that here). I don’t know if unicorns were a thing when I was a little girl, but as a teenager, I proudly and un-ironically had a unicorn and rainbow bedspread. 

I am a little embarrassed to admit that I had never heard of narwhals until sometime in the last ten years and I still have to stop and think “are those real or mythical?” when I hear or read about them (like I did in preparing to read “Not Quite Narwhal”). So my confusion about narwhals probably led me to state that unicorns are imaginary at storytime today. 

Luckily, Chad was there to set us all straight. Chad believes in unicorns (the mythical animals) and thanks to him, I do, too. And latch hook.

*I originally wrote “touched by unicorns” but I had to change THAT after what I learned through the Googles.