hot lips

My good friend Niedert tagged me to write a post about my husband.

Nicknames: Mr. Woolfie, Turd Ferguson, Brittany (only by his hometown buddies), B Dub.

How long have you been together? About 7 years. We dated on-and-off for six years; we have been married for seven months. What, we had commitment issues.

How long did we date? So long his Dad offered to perform free eye surgery on me if we would finally get married. Surgery--what better incentive??

Who said I love you first? He did.

Who is taller? He is. Which was a pre-requisite. I didn't date extra-short dudes for gene pool purposes.

Who can sing better? He does. He sings every commercial that comes on the T.V. The Daisy sour cream commercial was his #1 hit of the summer.

Who mows the lawn? We have no lawn.

Who drives? We have no car.

Who does the laundry? We have no laundry in the building, so we send it out. I'm starting to realize that city living is simplified--and that on paper it sounds like we live out of an abandoned school bus.

Who cooks? We both like to cook, although he is way more hardcore. I think we own at least 15 items just related to pie-making. That said, we're usually lazy and argue about who is going to make dinner--which often results in a peanut butter sandwich for dinner or another run to Yuki Sushi, where they know our orders by heart.

Who kissed who first? I kissed him. I played hard-to-get so well that he sort of refused to be the first one to make a move. I broke down after about a dozen dates.

Who proposed? He did.

Who has more siblings? He blows me out of the water on this one. He comes from a combined family, one parent on each side passed away while the kids were young, the parents remarried, and they have a combined total of 10. The grand kids come so fast we literally lose count sometimes. We'll get an email about someone and he'll be like, who's this? And I'll be like, I think that's your niece.

What's the best present he's given you? A refurbished 1964 "Debutante" Schwinn Beach Cruiser Bicycle. My roommate Katie had a couple cruisers, and when she moved I missed our bike rides. He surprised me with my own bike on my birthday, with a big red bow on it. Remember when you came down on Christmas morning and found a bike by the tree? Somehow, getting a bike is one of the best wish-fulfillment sensations ever.

What's the best gift you've given him? An industrial-strength shaved-ice machine.

What made you fall for him? His kindness. And his nerdiness. I have long thought that nerds make the best boyfriends. When we first started dating he had just quit a job as an IT manager. He have books on our shelves like "Mergers, Acquisitions, and Restructuring Models." You can bet those aren't mine.

What makes him the yin to your yang? Our mutual love of weird and cool and nerdy stuff. When you are the person who says, "I want to go to the demoliton derby," or, "I know...let's spend our summer vacation with war reenactors," and you find the person who's like, "Yeah, and let's also hit the La Brea tar pits;" hold onto that like a rear-mount choke hold, people. Because that is LOVE.

hippity hoppity

Easter is probably my favorite holiday spirituality-wise (not as commercial as Christmas) and also confectionary-wise. Holidays sometimes are an interesting situation for me in NYC, though, because we're so far away from family.

When I first moved here I had fantasies about having a new persona, shedding my old self and re-creating an all-new me (I think in this particular fantasy I dyed my hair black, in the end I just cut bangs). It turns out being an all-new me is not what it's cracked up to be. Because I didn't know anyone when I moved here, none of my new friends knew anything about my past--I had no context. Creating a personhood proved kind of a chore and I wished that people knew my family, my embarassing moments so we could rehash them, personal jokes like when I say..."What's the time?" They're supposed to say, "Time to get ILL!" But no one knew me or my Beastie Boy references.

This year I got to spend Easter I was especially grateful for Easter brunch with old friends; especially B Dub and this awesome lady. We bonded, many years ago, over marshmallow peeps. Which I have found to be as good a measure of friendship as any.

long life cool white

While in Boston last weekend, I stumbled upon an exhibition of Moyra Davey's photos.

I liked them because

1) The title of the show reminds me of a noodle house, and of a fluorescent light bulb.

2) The subjects tend to be completely mundane. Lots of them were pictures of DUST. Like, closeups of dustbunnies in corners, or a big ol' wad of dust stuck to a dog's paw. That reminded me of learning in freshman biology class that dust is mostly made up of human skin cells and hair, and possibly fallen matter from dead stars. That last part I think I made up or read in a Robert Fulghum book.

In the same class I learned about COHESION, which is the property that makes water molecules stick to each other and form one body, instead of bouncing around like a bunch of tiny water marbles. This is the same property that allows your cornea to adhere to your eyeball--with no stitches or anything--after it's been shaved off for laser surgery. The cornea just clings on there for dear life all by itself until it heals, thanks to cohesion.

3) Her photos are fragmentary, which is something I like in collages and lists and lyric poems. She has a bunch of series or "groupings" that make more sense together than individually. Or, rather, you take in the individual stills and your brain makes a story out of them because that's what brains like to do: order information. For example, one could look at a sampling of magazine covers and come to the conclusion that Britney Spears is crazy, while someone else could look at the same covers and decide that she's crazy and knocked up and strung out on drugs. To each brain its own.

4)Her photos provided an all new art medium for B Dub to assess with the words, "I could've done that." Until now, this dismissal was reserved for painters like Jackson Pollack or Mark Rothko.

a person frying squirrels

I got to hear Philip Gourevitch talk about writing a few weeks ago. His was a useful and endearingly earnest attempt to give good advice to new writers. Here are some of my favorite things he said, many of which apply to new and aspiring artists of all kinds.

PG on beginners:

People will say, Why are you writing about that? You don't even know anything about it. You look at something for the first time, and everyone seems to know more than you do. You think, I must be ignorant...but let me have a look. Your authority is your curiosity.

You have to have a basic confidence you're going to make it work. Use your amateur spirit. [This seemed much better to me than beginner's luck, which sounds dumb and fickle. Amateur spirit, he implied, was a sort of fire-in-the-belly only a first-timer can bring to a project].

PG on his own writing:

I look at stories as containers--I approach it not knowing what's inside, and I have to shape it.

Writing is a great act of distillation and compression. It starts with a vast amount of over-reported material. At some point I go back to this database and confront the material and look at it as a set of characters and start to study the material as a text.

You are writing your world--slicing your way toward a cleaner version of it.

Density and swiftness fascinate me.

I figured out there were 3 things I wanted to do for a living: Imagine, think, and speak. I wanted to get on the road. I wanted to put people into motion across large landscapes.

PG on writing about real people:

You have a pretext for asking people nosey questions. That's one perk. You are looking at people and you don't have to pretend you're not.

A reporter goes to a village and gets a sound bite from Mala Tawala Walla and moves on. What if you threw out all the statistics and spent a month with Mala Tawala Walla? That's where the story is.

Official sources are boring, mostly. I want to talk to somebody I have to protect a little bit when I write about them, because they're that un self-aware.

PG on the kinds of stories he likes:

Too often nonfiction doesn't serve its subject matter. It slams data at you. Nonfiction and fiction have the same test: Be truthful. Good stories are works of imagination and observation. Why should they be divorced?

I'm interested in people who do or think things I wouldn't. What's the belief system of this person that makes him do things nobody else does? What about a person I've never heard of. A person frying squirrels.


I wanted to get up and hug PG when he got to the frying squirrels bit. That's pretty much my raison d'etre and inspiration for writing: The guy who fries squirrels. (Metaphorically speaking. And, sort of literally.) Bless PG and the dude with the deep-fat fryer.


Philip Gourevitch is the author of "We Wish To Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families," an in-depth account of the Rwanda genocide. He is editor of the Paris Review, a staff writer for The New Yorker, and a contributing editor to the Forward. In the aftermath of the genocide he spent over nine months in Rwanda trying to understand how this extraordinary crime had come to pass, how it was organized, how the Western powers had stood by and watched it happen, and how Rwandans are living with its legacy. His latest book is "A Cold Case."

little pleasures

It snowed like freakin crazy here last week, and on my way to work I saw a bunch of little sledders heading to the park. It reminded me of another day in that park that was kind of perfect.

Hippo Playground is one of the little pleasures in my neighborhood. I don't have reason to go there very often, since I interact with children about as often as I floss (um, not very often). But I jog by the hippo playground and it makes me happy to know it's there. It has a bunch of sculpted hippo families, and in the summer they are hippo fountains, with the big hippos squirting the baby hippos. The kids go bonkers for it, and it is all quite charming--especially since the hippos are situated in a little triangle in the park between the riverview parkway and crab apple meadow. Doesn't that sound nice?

The setting: It happened to be Thanksgiving Day, and it was a magical SIXTY-FIVE degrees in New York. For weather weirdness, this is on par with snow in Los Angeles. The whole city was outside in t-shirts in pre-turkey bliss. I took the occasion to go to Hippo Playground, because for once I had someone to take with me.

This little monster (Max, not the hippo) is the one kid in my life, and he happened to show up from Boston on quite possibly the most perfect day for playground-going. I love how he has to touch things to discover them (the hippos, the leaves dappling the ground, his nose) which is something adults forget about.

The hand placement here is priceless.

Mom and Max with Crab Apple Meadow in the background (can you believe that light?)

Our parting shot was this glorious view on the way home. This photo doesn't do it justice, but if you zoom in, the texture of those leaves is astounding--I want a gown made out of them.

We lingered at the park so long we were almost late for turkey dinner--but not quite. We gorged ourselves and came home to gorge some more on B Dub's homemade pies. Hippos+some favorite people + unseasonably awesome weather+ autumn light and leaves+lots of good food=pretty much as good as good days get.

P.S. It turns out real hippopotami are not fun to play with. According to Dirty Curty, my personal expert on the animal kingdom, they're almost as ferocious as polar bears, but not quite.

fair play to those who dare to dream

I could kiss John Stewart for ushering Marketa Irglova back onstage after she was cut-off from giving her acceptance speech. She was such a breath of fresh air, and somehow more lovely than everyone else there.

Truly, it would've been embarrassing if her and Glen Hansard's song hadn't won, sandwiched between those bubblegum Disney numbers. The two of them just sort of glow. You get the feeling they love making beautiful things and they love what they do. Something about them last night said, "We're so excited our pretty song won!" instead of, "We're so glad we're finally famous!" When Glen Hansard repeated "Make art! Make art!" at the end of his speech, it sounded less like a confirmation to the people in that room, and more like a plea.

in the news

These are some of the media pieces I mentioned in my last post. In my class, we do a project in which students choose a topic or issue, and everyone brings in related writing or media on the topic to make a "constellation" of info around it. The concept is that issues/ideas don't live in a vacuum, but grow out of an expanding dialogue that can be multi-voiced, contradictory, recursive, and eventually hopefully illuminates and clarifies the issue.

I consider some of these part of my personal "constellation" in trying to wrap my head around this--they're especially thought-provoking, alarming, or take an unexpected angle. A bunch are sent from commenters and friends who are similarly interested in mormons-in-the-media. Here is a sampling if you're interested in the dialogue out there.

Update: Please note that the following are not all necessarily "anti-mormon," but part of the dialogue around Mormons in the media right now (see above graphs).

"Mormons Dismayed by Harsh Spotlight" The Wall Street Journal Feb. 8, 2008-from Em
A Wall Street Journal/NBC News poll in late January revealed that 50% of Americans said they would have reservations or be "very uncomfortable" about a Mormon as president. That same poll found that 81% would be "enthusiastic" or "comfortable" with an African-American and 76% with a woman.

"Invisible Worlds"episode 141 from This American Life. This is the piece from my favorite radio show that first raised a red flag for me. Act 2 includes the Scott Carrier piece about how he "doesn't like" Mormons. If you start at about 18:40 you'll get Ira Glass's intro. October 1, 1999.
When I was younger, I was more tolerant of their [Mormon] beliefs and practices, thinking this is America and Mormons can believe whatever they want, including the notion that god promised this land to them, and they are his chosen people. But as I've got older I've become less willing to put up with it.

"Tough Room" episode from This American Life, Act 3 tells the story of two Mormon missionaries on Manhattan's Upper West Side (my neighborhood--woot.) Feb. 8, 2008 (This is a gentler treatment of Mormons compared to the '99 show.)-from Em

"What is it About Mormonism?" The New York Times Jan 6, 2008 -from Anne
To put it bluntly, the combination of secret mysteries and resistance in the face of oppression has made it increasingly difficult for Mormons to talk openly and successfully with outsiders about their religious beliefs.

Emily's Review on SFist This is Emily's review of David Cross's show that sparked a controversy that turned anti-Mormon (frighteningly) fast. Be sure to check the first comment which is from none other than David Cross himself, who signs off, "I do think it's astoundingly stupid to believe in Mormonism giving it and its founders history."

"Mormonism's Al Smith Moment?" The San Francisco Chronicle Jan 2, 2008 (I went to high school with the guy who wrote this. Go, Nate!) -from Em
By raising the possibility that Mormonism de facto disqualifies one for the presidency, the furor over Romney's religion has thrown the full citizenship of all Latter-day Saints into question.

Scarborough Country Scarborough points out media anti-Romney bias, Feb 1. 2008 -from Andrea

"What Iowans Should Know About Mormons" Wall Street Journal, Dec. 7 2007
A recent Pew poll shows that only 53% of Americans have a favorable opinion of Mormons. That's roughly the same percentage who feel that way toward Muslims... Why does a faith professed by the 9/11 hijackers rank alongside that of a peaceful, productive, highly educated religious group founded within our own borders?

"Mormonism: A Racket Becomes a Religion" Slate.com April 27, 2007

"Herder and the Mormons" Harper's Magazine May 2, 2007
I find the LDS-dominated audiences to be far more engaging than the norm. They present a rich study in contrasts. On one hand, they reflect an intensely family-oriented society, bonded to their community. On the other, thanks to the missionary tradition, they have a familiarity with the outside world...that I rarely come across in America beyond the coasts.

"A Mormon President? No Way" Slate.com Dec. 20, 2006
Nor is it chauvanistic to say that some religious views should be dealbreakers in and of themselves...Such views are disqualifying because they're dogmatic, irrational, and absurd. By holding them, someone indicates a basic failure to think for himself or see the world as it is.

Does anyone know where to find Richard Bushman's response--I think it was published in the Atlantic, or the New Republic? I am always interested in other suggested readings, too.

*Most of these come from Em, who really should be the one writing about this--if she weren't too busy writing her dissertation to go long blog rants :)