Amy Lu's View

I finished the latch hook project I’ve been working on for over a year! No, not a year straight–I’ve taken many breaks. I’m not very dedicated to my crafting endeavor. But thanks to lockdown, I’ve had more time to sit inside and listen–to meetings, to the radio, etc. while needing something to do with my hands.

I’m not sure there’s much that can or should be said about latch hook– it’s goofy and does not result in a terribly attractive final product. Its main appeal is that it’s super easy to do, and the tactile experience of playing with the yarn is pleasant.

My latch hook career began in the late 70’s/early 80’s, of course. It’s a craft I learned and/or pursued because of 4-H. I actually did other arts and crafts as a kid to varying degrees of success: macrame and sewing were too hard and frustrating, but I did like decoupage (it’s clear this was the 70’s, right?) Surprisingly, I was damn good at leather craft.

Latch hook has been the craft I return to because it is the simplest and requires very little thought. It’s probably as close as I come to a meditative practice (until I start worrying about running out of a particular color of yarn because I followed the pattern wrong, but then I find leftovers of the right color in another kit. Oh, the drama!) I can’t imagine trying to pickup something complicated like leather work again–that definitely feels like it belongs to a past life Amy.

My latch hooking has also been jumpstarted by the availability of kits that are already finished–no sewing is required to turn them into rugs or wall hangings or, in the case of my most recent endeavor, a pillow. I used to hate that sewing step (my downfall when it came to 4-H latch hook and leather work glory) and as an adult would just try to use duct tape to finish up my projects.

I was stunned a few years ago when someone actually bought one of my Winnie-the-Pooh latch hooks at our church silent auction. I’ve given others away as gifts to kids (and the young at heart). Not sure where the pillow will end up… just need to make sure StanLee doesn’t eat it.

April 14 is Be Kind To Laywers Day.

Obviously, there is a favorite lawyer in my life, and I try to be kind to him every day–admittedly to varying degrees of success. (Although things have been going quite well for Chamy during lockdown, I’m sure in part because Chad has a “home office” space on an entirely different floor from where I spend most of the days. And we have a fully stocked bar.)

Speaking of our bar, and kindness, Chad just made me a Negroni while downstairs on an online geeking break.

“Lawyers are very important people to me.”

Janet Reno

Because I’m married to a lawyer, I’ve had the good fortune to meet, be friends with, and get drunk with, many lawyers. Simply put, they are almost always awesome. Sure, they’ll do some tedious deep conversational dives about things I don’t know or care about, but that’s just because I don’t know or care about what they’re talking about. I could easily list 10 popular conversational topics that I also don’t or care about, but don’t want to be a hater. I can also get bored when my librarian peeps get fixated on yapping about librarian life.

Chad is not sensitive about being a lawyer–he loves a good–or even a mediocore–laywer joke as much as the next person. Actually, he loves them more. He only gets really annoyed at other lawyers who are incompetent, needlessly adversarial or jackassish, or write poorly and use unnecessary “lawyer language.”

(I will try to refrain from too much bitching about what bothers me about popular misconceptions about the library world, but here are my top ones:

• Librarians just know shit (we know how to find shit out)
• The interwebs killed Dewey Decimal (not related–Dewey Decimal is an address for a book, doesn’t matter how you look that address up–card catalog, Google, seance)
• Libraries are quiet

And this isn’t a misconception, but I HATE it when things are alphabetized by articles–I’m looking at you, The Current!)

Some commons misconceptions I, as a non-lawyer, have observed about lawyers and the law:

• Lawyers are not all fabulously rich
• Lawyers are not all extremely arrogant (at least not because they are lawyers)
• All states have “no-fault” divorce, so you don’t have to prove any wrongdoing…the court doesn’t really care why you want a divorce or how much of an asshole you think your soon-to-be-ex is.
• “Fair” and “right” isn’t always the same thing as “legal.” The legal system is often about upholding larger societal principles and rules, even if you individually got screwed.

And “Harvey Birdman, Attorney At Law” is the best legal show ever, followed by “Boston Legal”–DENNY CRANE!

I’m all caught up with the podcast “Dead Eyes.” This makes me feel very accomplished.

I feel like I’ve achieved something primarily for two reasons:

• I haven’t listened to podcasts that much before now
• Chad and I are never caught up on our tv viewing

My career as a podcast listener is a direct result of COVID-19 social realities. Yes, I dabbled in a few podcasts thanks to Chad–namely “Too Beautiful Too Live-TBTL” (the inspiration for many blog posts) and “Nobody Listens To Paula Poundstone”–but my recent long walks encouraged me to branch out to other podcasts. Luckily for me, Chad got me set up with the app Stitcher right before social isolation started.

I’m not sure what drew me to “Dead Eyes.” Maybe it’s because each individual epdisode is relativley short (less than an hour) and its a new podcast so there aren’t that many episodes (the 8th just came out). Listening to it all isn’t that big of a commitment (I’m daunted by starting a long running tv series). Maybe I subconsioucly remembered reading a good review of it int he week.

It’s a testament to the quality of the podcast that even though I have very little knowledge or interest in its premise, I love it. Here’s the descirption: “Actor/comedian Connor Ratliff (The Chris Gethard Show, UCB, Marvelous Mrs. Maisel) embarks upon a quest to solve a very stupid mystery that has haunted him for two decades: why Tom Hanks fired him from a small role in the 2001 HBO mini-series, Band Of Brothers.”

The only thing/person in that description that I have any familiarity with is Tom Hanks.

When Connor Ratliff was fired, he was told (not by Tom Hanks directly) that it was because he had “dead eyes.” He has no idea what that means and that is the “mystery” he’s trying to solve.

Reasons I loved the podcast:

• The host seems like a genuinely likable guy.
• The show is well-crafted.
• The conversations are really interesting, even when I don’t know who the guests are.
• Even as an only amateur actress, I totally relate to the experience of being super insecure about being an actor. I also find it comforting that professional actors are also wracked my self-doubt.

Things I’ve learned from “Dead Eyes”

• As an amateur actress, I understand the wisdom of NOT having my happiness so tied to my “success” as an actor. I need to also find fullfillment in things that I have more control over, like running, playing music, or just trying to be a decent person.
• It’s helpful to keep in mind that other people rarely ascribe as much importance to me or how they interact with me as I do. If I’m feeling mortified because I’ve acted like an ass or embarassed myself, it’s wasted effort. People are the heroes of their own stories. I am scenery. Embarassment is self-indulgent.
• On the flip side, while it’s not helpful to over-estimate our importance, we should keep in mind that an offhand comment (“You have dead eyes”) might have a big impact on someone. In eighth grade a friend told me that I “looked like a rabbit” in my class picture–yeah, that echoed around in my head for years. So why not say something nice?
• And why not try to remember the positive things people tell us, instead of obsessing over real or imagined slights and criticisms? It’s easy to get stuck in narratives and let them define our lives. Why not try to consciously frame our lives in positive stories?
• There are a lot of songs about eyes–as a child of the 80’s, “Eyes Without a Face” and “Bette Davis Eyes” are the ones that get stuck most in my head.

(Author’s corrections/additions: Since I published this yesterday, I found a Pass Easter Egg Dyeing Kit in our basement, proof that I’ve had intentions of celebrating Easter in the last 20 years. Also, my sister said she and my mom DID used to hide Easter eggs for us. As my sister recalls, our dad would usually find a rogue egg months later and eat it. This does ring a bell, maybe I repressed it because it grossed me out).

Easter hasn’t been on my radar for years. I’m just not that personally into traditional Easter religion or food. One of the few/only Easters I have a significant memory of as an adult is the year Chad and I went to brunch at Stanley’s, and my heel got caught in my barstool (I know, sounds like a cliche) and I almost did a header into the lap of an old man. Time stood still as our eyes locked as I fell toward him, managing to right myself at the last moment.

I don’t remember my family being all that into Easter, either, at least not into Easter egg hunts (I hope my sister corrects me if I’m wrong). I think an Easter egg hunt was too much like a game or a sport for us to have time for it.

We did like to dye eggs, though, and I do remember even doing that as a young adult. I’m definitely in the “use crayons to decorate eggs before you dye them” camp.

I got curious about if there was any archaelogical evidence of Easters of my youth, so did some excavating in my family memorabilia upstairs. (Plus, I was desperate for blog material). I have these treasures to offer (see photos below). You’re welcome (now I have to figure out how to cram all the photo albums back in their storage space).

The lovely ladies dyeing eggs with me are my sister Jenn and sister-in-law Chris.

I may be guilty of not giving Easter it’s proper holiday due, but this year, it seems especially important to stop and recognize a holiday that celebrates hope and renewal. And spring. Yeah, we definitely need spring. So Happy Easter/Passover/Ostara/Vernal Equinox/Spring!

And with StanLee’s ears, he could definitely fill-in for the Easter Bunny (he’d also really like to “hug” a bunny).

I often say I don’t read (which is funny, because I’m a librarian, right?)

It’s true, I rarely read fiction books with my eyes, either in paper or eBook formats. I listen to audiobooks instead, mostly when I work out. (I got through a lot of audiobooks during marathon training).

Sometimes I will actually read a nonfiction book, or at least skim it.

And I love to read magazines. So much so that I hoard them until I make sure I’ve thoroughly read them. (Haven’t made much of a dent in my goal to read up on old issues while hiding out at home).

One of my favorite magainzes is The Week (theweek.com). I love the bite-sized snippets of information pulled from a variety of credible media sources. It’s a good mix of national and international news, with some arts and entertainment thrown in. Plus, the “Good Week for/Bad Week for” items often end up as questions on “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me.” (Did you know that sales of pants have recently dropped?) Settling down with The Week and my lunch is one of life’s little joys for me.

A “story” from the April 10 issue titled “How to boost your immune system” particulary caught my attention so I thought I’d share it. Think of it as a bit of a public service announcement (without the guitar). The Week’s staff distilled it from The Guardian (https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2020/mar/08/how-to-boost-your-immune-system-to-avoid-colds-and-coronavirus). Basically this is my recap of a recap.

How to boost your immune system (and how I measure up):

• Feed your microbiome: Eat a diet rich in fiber and fermented foods. Check!
• Stay active: Check! Even without being able to run, I’m still exercising.
• Lay off the liquor:…um…The advice is “Don’t booze through the coronavirus crisis.” Does it matter if I’m not drinking just because of coronavirus?
• Skip supplements: Eating your five-a-day fruits and vegetables is the best way to maintain vitamin and nutrient levels. (Only 5?!) Check! (Although I do also use Nuun Immunity Support).

Stay as healthy and well as you can everyone!

I never used to be a hugger.

It’s just not what my rural German family or community did. I definitely spent the first-half of my life not hugging people. We only hugged on VERY special occasions–actually, graduation is the only occasion I can think of.

Then I met the Snyders. They hugged in greeting and in farewell!

My transition to becoming a hugger was filled with some angst and awkwardness (I think I scared/pleasantly surprised my grandmother the first time I hugged her as an adult), but now I am a full-fledged hugger. I may even tend toward over hugging, as I’ve learned it’s a nice social shortcut. Don’t know what to do? Hug! (Oh, and some of my excessive hugging may be inspired by alcohol consumption).

Virtual Happy Hour selfie with the Scooby Gang…wish I could hug these people! (We may keep up virtual socializing though as a supplemnt to IRL socializing–much easier to get together. I expect there will be many situations in the future where people still want to do virtual sometimes because of convenience).

Rather, I WAS a hugger. Obviously, there’s no hugging of friends and family in social isolation. (Yes, there is some Chamy hugging but we’re not extravagant). Of course, I hug/wrestle StanLee a lot, on Hug Your Dog Day (April 10) and every day.

People give Chad a lot of crap for not being a hugger or a smiler, but I totally support Chad in these manifestations of his Chadliness. He’ll hug or smile if he wants to. Of course, Chad could care less if people disapprove of his emotional/social expressions.

I think my early days as a non-hugger are serving me well, as I can adapt to a low-hugging lifestyle pretty easily. I wonder if I’ll have to learn to hug again when it’s no longer dangerous?

*In high school we did a production of the play “Teach Me How To Cry” and that title has always stuck with me. Crying was another thing that my people did not do.

I can’t believe I’ve almost completed Week 4 of WFH full-time.

Official “Shelter At Home”/”Never F#$in Go Anywhere” didn’t start until a few days later…but however it’s counted, it’s very surreal. Time actually feels like it’s speeding up the longer we’re sequestered, which could be a good thing–I’m not bored–but I’m also not getting any younger. Do I want to spend my dwindling prime this way?

I’m also a little worried that by the time I can be out in the world again I won’t want to be or even know how.

On a podcast I’m now listening to, “Stay the F. Homekins,” co-host Janie Haddad Tompkins mentioned Ray Bradbury’s short story ” All Summer In A Day” and how it captures creepy timelessness. (Yes listening to podcasts is one of my apocalypse hobbies.)

Yes, I’m going to be very sexist and mention that Janie is married to someone more famous, comedian Paul F. Tompkins.

So Janie didn’t actually mention the title of the story because she couldn’t remember it and got some of the details wrong, but it was definitely that story.

I was so excited because I read that story 40 years ago as part of the ” Junior Great Books” program and it’s stayed with me ever since. I’ll bring it up sometimes in conversation but I’ve never met anyone else who knows it. But it actually is quite famous and well-known, so I’m just indulging in feeling precious.

I just tried to communicate my joy and excitement to the podcast via Twitter, but I don’t really get Twitter (don’t even get me started on Instagram). Sadly they don’t have a Facebook page.

This last month has felt like one big long day. Without something to differentiate one day from another, it all just melds together. I’m sure there is some benefit to experiencing time in a new way and to resetting my personal clock. I do think if I was more present in the moment time would seem less fleeting…but #NotEvenCloseToThatYet.

I could also benefit from not trying to enjoy All Bourbon In A Day or All Peanut Butter In a Day…

Sometimes it takes me a while to figure out how to end an online meeting–I literally can’t quickly find the “Leave meeting” button in Zoom or the hang up phone icon in Teams or Skype.

This seems to be seeping into my real life.

I don’t want this post to be an “Oh the Perils of Pauline Working From Home!” I feel very grateful to be able to work from home, I like a lot about working from home, I’m pretty used to working at home, and I don’t have problems with work life meshing with home life–I think the flexibility of my schedule (and not catching a disease) more than compensates for that.

I don’t have a problem with virtual meetings, either. Are they really that much more awkward than in-person meetings? They’re just awkard/silly in a different way. Most of my job pre-COVID was meetings–both virtual and in-person–anyway. Yes, there are more meetings, and we do tend to use video more.

I do think it’s interesting that virtual meetings are both more distant and more personal–we’re all getting to see more of each others’ homes and facial expressions than before. I was proud when someone remarked today that they like “the dog and the bar in the background” when referring to me.

And I’m super thankful we have the option of virtual Happy Hours and whatnot. I love our church service via Zoom and our church lunches.

However, I am having trouble realizing that I’m not in a virtual meeting when I’m “asleep.” The last three or four nights, I’ve spent hours dreaming that I’m in an online meeting. (Luckily, I’ve stopped worrying about being on camera in just my pajamas like I did the first night).

This is hardly the first time I’ve had trouble differentiating my sleeping and waking life. When I was in fifth grade and a very local spelling bee “champion,” I would practice spelling words in my sleep. In recent times, I occasionally dream about needing to put things that are really unrelated to work on our staff intranet.

And don’t get me started on “Suzy”–she’s the ghost that lives in the upstairs of the dream version of the house that is supposed to be the apartment I shared with girlfriends in Eau Claire but is out in the country in Iowa. I will wake myself up screaming about/at Suzy (have no idea why she is named Suzy, although I did work with a girl at B. Daltons in Iowa named Suzy?)

I’ve also had stress dreams lately not related to online meetings or the ghost of booksellers. I recently dreamed I was at A BUFFET–WITH OTHER PEOPLE in the middle of this pandemic, and freaking out because people weren’t even trying to social distance, but hey, it was a buffet and they had rice noodles and I didn’t want to let good food go to waste.

And just the other night I dreamed I was at my parents’ house out on the tundra and trying to water and save their houseplants–specifically china dolls. Chad and I had a big ass china doll at least 15 years ago but have no houseplants now. A dream about being productive with this extra time? Of planting seeds that will grow in the future? Of feeling guilty about not gardening?

I better cut myself off before I start reminiscing about all the recurring stressmares I have (dead parents and pets that aren’t really dead but have been hanging out and I’ve ignored them, trying to close a library/store and the customers won’t leave and just keep coming in, being at a meal with no vegetarian food/accidentally eating meat…)

Yes, I could take responsibility for how I manage my stress and try to find some healthier coping strategies. No, I do not mediate. Yes, at least I drink decaffeinated tea in addition to bourbon?

We are so happy we got to order delivery from one of our favorite restaurants, Hai Hai, last night. This is the first weekend they’ve been open for takeout or delivery since all Minnesota restaurants closed for in-person dining.

We love the food–and cocktails–from Hai Hai, but it’s more than just a restaurant or bar. It’s OUR PLACE (or one of a very select few). Everybody didn’t know our name there, but several of the bartenders did. Chad and I shared many good meals and deep (drunken) conversations at Hai Hai.

And Sunday was usually our day to go–not every Sunday, but many. Sometimes for brunch but often on our way home from Pigeons From Hell practice.

Hai Hai was the last place we went on an outing (exactly 3 weeks ago) before sheltering in place started. And while I loved being there, as always, I was uneasy with how crowded it was. It was definitely not an environment of social isolation, and the experience helped me understand why restaurants closed down soon after.

Getting to order from Hai Hai was a little taste of an oasis, and the normalcy of pre-COVID-19 life.

And it was damn tasty (I LOVE their spring rolls with mock duck). We even got to buy the cocktail mix for Tour Bus Tales. All we/Chad had to do was add gin.

Hopefully our business will be a small contribution in helping Hai Hai survive the pandemic.

In normal life Chad and I rarely get takeout or delivery–if I’m going to consume all those additional calories, I want the experience of going out. Plus figuring out the various delivery apps and making sure StanLee was secured and didn’t escape when the delivery came was a pain in the ass. But now that the restaurant experience is no longer an option, we’ll definitely order from them again (and other local restaurants like the Mill) until we can go there in person again someday.

Swell background inspirational music…at least COVID-19 gives us an excuse to feel like ordering takeout is virtuous.