I really hate it when...

...I complain about something I see in someone else that bothers me, and then begin to notice it more and more in myself.

I'm sorry?

Completed

I thought I'd share about my most recent crocheting project. I found this pattern (with recommended colours and everything) in a little pattern book, and I thought it looked so good. When I realized that I could find all the colours I bought the yarn and started making it. But that was back in October or November; it hasn't been my priority project. That has been for several reasons: I had two Christmas projects to complete, I've been excited about working on other projects, and once I got going on this one I thought the colours clashed. It's hard to be excited about something when it seems to be turning out ugly. Luckily the dark variegated colour joining all the squares together also really tied all the colours together, and the completed project looks way better than I feared along the way. But although I had started making it for myself, I don't really need another blanket and I didn't think I was going to like it as much as I had hoped, so part way through I changed my mind and decided to donate it to the silent auction benefiting the Children's Hospital that we will be having at work next month. I took it in and donated it today.

Basic Concept: Granny Square, with solid rows instead of shells
Yarn: Red Heart Worsted Weight (Super Saver)
Colours: Light Yellow, Cornmeal, Gold, Carrot, and Fall
Hook Size: 6.50 mm

Now I'm on to an even more exciting project!

Joke

What did the bunny say to the moose?
......
......
......
......
......
......There's some peanut butter over there!


Would you believe I made that up all by myself?
We laughed a lot at it tonight.
Sometimes the stupider something is, the funnier it is.

And Counting

So it turns out I'm not one of those people who can recall a conversation word-for-word. But ours went vaguely something like this: She said that someone posed to her the idea of counting how many individual different McDonaldses she has eaten at in her lifetime, and how that number seems huge at first, but is probably a lot smaller than originally imagined. A very interesting thought. However, I don't particularly like McDonalds. If I had a choice between eating at McDonalds and anywhere else, I tend to chose the other option. I mentioned that I would be more interested in counting how many Starbuckses I've been to. That number would be significantly larger.

I started a list; I got up to 23 specific ones that I can remember (plus one more I know I've been to but I have no idea where it is... in an Albertsons somewhere on the way to California). Now I want to try to expand that list! I think it would be fun to map out. (Does anyone know of an online map program where you can mark points and save where you've been?)

But I'm approaching this project thoughtfully, with consideration. Do I really want to do this - to begin a new obsession of visiting as many Starbuckses as possible, of codifying my life into yet another list (adding the list of Starbucks locations I've visited to the list of license plates I've seen in order, and the list of countries I can name)? Not that I tend to be an obsessive type of person (I don't think...) whose lists rule her life... And I suppose a good part of life consists of the games we play.

Skoch's Recital Concert

It was one of those evenings when it's hard to leave the house. Except you don't realize how hard until you're already out, and then you regret it.
Not that I actually regret going. The concert was fabulous, excellent, and amusing. The back-up band called themselves "The Coat Hangers." I think my favorite song was "Play That Funky Music White Boy." As well as having fantastic music, they had a bar fridge and couch on stage, and when a member of the band was exempt from a song he'd pop open a soda and relax. And Skoch played one of the songs with his guitar behind his back. It was awesome.
Everyone in the band was someone I have cared about significantly or vicariously. That meant I owed them the loyalty of being there (which I was glad to give), and that also made me uncomfortable. Because we're not in each other's lives anymore. And I just feel awkward around school crowds - not just them but everyone there. I didn't want to mingle during intermission.

I was so grateful to be beside a friend, someone who remains in my life and whose friendship I really value. I sat there imagining how I might introduce her to someone, and I surprised myself by the strength of the terms I'd use to describe our friendship. But whenever I think of expressing it to her, I lose all my words.
We sat in the front row, so we had a great view - but once things got started I all the sudden feared that I was much too boring, bland, and tired to be in the front row. Sigh. And at the end of the concert I discovered that I am afraid of participation. Big sigh.

I spent the concert thinking...
People are busy. They already pretty much have enough friends. Especially the fabulous people. I don't dare ask for anything... especially when I don't have much to give in return.
When I thought back to that time of life and re-immersed myself in that setting, I found myself asking, "Was I loved?" as if that was the question of utmost significance. Most of me answers, "Not enough." But part of me knows that the people surrounding me were loving, and that if I didn't feel loved that's not entirely their fault. I don't think that I felt like I was able to love them well, and then I didn't know how to receive their love for me.
I know that my true friends loved me, and somehow that seems tangential to the problem. I mourn the fact that I didn't feel loved, known, and accepted by the entire group, and that I wasn't able to feel or show that I cared for the group at large. Having a few true friends doesn't fix that. Unfortunately.

Books Read - Winter 2010

1. The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs
2. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery*
3. Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery (#2)*
4. Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery (#3)*
5. How Proust Can Change Your Life by Alain de Botton
6. Gourmet Rhapsody by Muriel Barbery
7. 21 Days to a Thrifty Lifestyle by Mike Yorkey
8. Candide by Voltaire
9. Essays by George Orwell
10. The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff
11. At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon
12. Every Young Woman's Battle by Shannon Ethridge & Stephen Arterburn

* = in partial fulfillment of my New Years Resolutions

Notes:

- I really enjoyed The Know-It-All, subtitled "One man's humble quest to become the smartest person in the world." A.J. Jacobs also wrote "The Year of Living Biblically" and "The Guinea Pig Diaries," and in those books he alluded to this one, so I've been interested in reading it for a while and was happy when I found it on sale in a paperback edition. This is his story of reading through the Encyclopedia Brittanica from cover to cover (er - covers to covers - I guess it's 32 volumes). He passes on tidbits and facts that he learns through his reading, and he also shares his personal experiences related to this gain of knowledge: other people's opinions towards his project, awkward situations where he blurts out more than he should, the fine imposed by his wife for sharing irrelevant facts, his efforts to live up to his family's legacy of wisdom. Although it may sound dull to read a book about a guy who reads the encyclopedia, this book is highly entertaining and worth reading.

- I read Anne of Green Gables over and over when I was young, but now it has been a long time since I've taken them off the shelf. I remember how Mom bought me the whole set at Costco, and how proud I was to be reading something with a reading level of ten years old when I was only nine. Now as I re-read them I have found that I remembered almost everything from the first book, but I've forgotten almost everything from the next few. None of the scenes in the third book were familiar to me and I never knew what was coming next. That will change a little bit as I progress to the final few books of the series - I have some recollections from them because they were my favorites. But the things I remember the most are the things included in the movies. And I also wonder if the middle books are just less memorable: I already forget details, and I just read them!
Lucy Maud Montgomery changed her writing style a bit between the first and second book of the series. For instance, in the second book she started using ellipses (...) where brackets or dashes would be better suited. Then in the third book she began using dashes where commas would have worked just fine, but luckily that didn't go on too long.
If I met Anne in real life these days, I'm not sure that we would be friends. She would say I have no imagination, and I would say she's too gushy. I've been impatient with that lately - in real life as well as in literature.

- Gourmet Rhapsody (the sequel to The Elegance of the Hedgehog) was fantastically good, but a little anti-climatic. A food critic on his deathbed searches for a long-forgotten perfect taste, but what he finally comes up with, choux, is something I am unfortunately unfamiliar with, as the book is translated from French.

- In an English class anthology, I once read "Shooting an Elephant" by George Orwell, and it was so interesting that it made me realized that essays don't have to be boring and dull. Unfortunately, many Essays are still boring and dull, and I was so glad to be finished reading this book. Granted, there were some good ones, but after reading fifty pages about English Socialism around the time of the World Wars, I wasn't really taking this book seriously anymore.

Delights

My Mom came to visit me! I was a little apprehensive about this; I find spending time with my family very tiring, if she was going to come to my place I would have to do a lot of cleaning, and I wasn't feeling well in the week preceding her visit. But it turned out lovely. We spent our time away from my apartment, so it didn't matter that it remained a bit of a mess. Instead, we went shopping and went out for dinner.

The hilight of our adventure was going to the Farmer's Market. I was surprised to find it open in March, and then I was surprised again to find so much classy stuff there. (That's where Mom got the beautiful cup of coffee pictured above.) I discovered some things that I didn't expect to be able to find anywhere - like French desserts!

They had macarons! I've had a macaron infatuation for the last few months, since I found a box on clearance in a grocery store freezer and found them to be amazing. They are soft and crispy and chewy and sweet and magnificent. My wanderings on the internet tell me that they are very fancy and quite rare. It seems that you can get them at upscale stores in large cities, and people become all snobby and insist that only the very best ones are any good. It looks like there is one place here that sells them, but it's really far away from me so I haven't made it over there yet. (Unfortunately the grocery store where I first found them doesn't carry them anymore.) I was astounded to find them at the Farmer's Market! (There were actually two booths there selling macarons.) "This is my dream come true," I told Mom with my mouth agape, and I introduced her to the delight. Someone told us that these are the new cupcakes - the new overpriced rage. I liked them before I knew that. However, I think that part of my infatuation may be related to the fact that they were a novelty - something I couldn't get whenever I wanted. I also think I may have preferred the cheap frozen variety. Still, though, this was very exciting for me.

At the Farmer's Market, I also found madeleines. I have been wanting to try these since I read about Proust and how they feature in one of the scenes in his novels. They are like a pound cake in a shell shape (and somehow pound cake tastes better like that than it does in a slice), dense yet fluffy, with a hint of lemon. They carried an air of simplicity, and in that way they reminded me of creme brulee. As I ate them, I sat quietly and practiced mindfulness.

I sound like a frog.

I have been sick this week with the most bizarre "cold" I've ever had. I've had one constant symptom: a strained voice, bordering on no voice. That's the first problem that appeared, along with the necessity of daily three hour naps. The first night I woke up constantly because swallowing was such a struggle. Then I had a day where my lower back hurt and all my skin felt over-sensitive - I couldn't get used to wearing clothes. Then the next day my neck was all stiff and painful and I said my head must be too heavy. That's around when I started coughing (not earlier, which I found strange). Now this morning I woke up with an eye infection. The only eye infections I've ever had have been when I've had bad colds, and I wonder if they're related - like the cold is going up into my eye? As well as this strange array of symptoms, I am surprised by symptoms I don't have. I've only sneezed once, and my nose isn't running or stuffed up. Anyway, the good thing is that one weird symptom tends to leave when the next one comes (except for the voice problem), but I wonder what my problem will be tomorrow!

Baby Blanket

Someone at work asked me to make a blanket for her daughter, providing me with the materials and an example, and thereby introduced me to a new style of baby blanket! It was so easy: you take two pieces of fleece of the same size, cut "tassles" all around the edge (I made them about four inches long and the width of a ruler), and then you tie the tassles together, top with bottom. No sewing necessary! It was really easy, and it turned out pretty cute.

Peaceful

This was the view when I got to work this morning. Between the sun beginning to rise on the horizon and the foreground of houses lay a blanket of clouds. The radio called it fog, which I guess is an accurate description when you're in the middle of a cloud, but looking at it from above I could see the ripples. It was like a dream world.

I had a bad weekend.

Chocolate Peanut Butter

It's a tragedy! It's terrible! It's just about the end of the world!


I ran out of chocolate peanut butter.

"What?" You ask. "What are you talking about? I've never even heard of this 'chocolate peanut butter' before! And really, is it that big of a deal?"

There are several reasons why this is a big deal to me:
1) I am being facetious. There are greater tragedies.
2) It's really good.
3) I can't find it anymore.

Kraft "Peanut Butter with Chocolate" spread on apple slices is the best snack ever. Ever. So good. It's more exciting than plain old peanut butter, even though it's not super chocolate-y. I guess that in theory it's kind of like Nutella, but I much prefer this. It's... more solid. None of that weird taste I notice in Nutella. More comforting. Nor does it have that strong salty taste of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. It's mellow, and happiness-inducing.

I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. It seems that no one has. (When I search Google Images it only comes up with 2 pictures of peanut-butter-with-chocolate on the whole Google-search-able internet, and both are on obscure Japanese blogs.) Additonally, I haven't seen it in stores in years - so many years that my jar actually expired several years ago. (But it's still good!) I couldn't get rid of it without being able to replace it. But now, alas, the jar is empty. And so is my cupboard, my stomach, and my heart.

I'll miss you, chocolate peanut butter. Eating apples just won't be the same.

Banana Ketchup

The other day we were walking through Sobey's, and we came across banana ketchup!! We went back to buy it today, and it was fantastic.

I guess (according to Wikipedia) that banana ketchup found its debut in the Philippines during WWII when there was a shortage of tomatoes to make regular ketchup. It also seems to be popular in St. Lucia, which is where the stuff I found came from (it's actually a product of St. Lucia - I've never seen anything imported from there before!).

We tried it today as a condiment for our yam fries and chicken fingers. It has a background sort of flavour, like many condiments. It tasted a little vinegar-y and a little sweet and a little ketchup-y. I found it definitely worth trying (although that may be because of the novelty of it more than its intrinsic amazingness).

What's the problem?

The problem is...
...that Katie's grandfather died.
...that Katie's really upset about it.
...that my head was in work fog and I didn't feel like a very available friend to her when I saw her today.
...that Patrick flew in to attend the funeral with her.
...that she told him he didn't have to, but he said that's what a relationship is - it's supporting each other.
...that my grandfather died a few months ago.
...that I wasn't really upset about it.
...that Justin didn't attend the funeral with me.
...that if he did come, it would have caused some hassle (Oma's house was already over-full; I would have constantly had to wonder if he was bored.)
...that I really didn't need him to come; I was okay.
...that Bridget came along with Dad.
...that I wonder if this is a cultural norm, whether I and my relationship are aberrant, and whether that is okay because that's what works for us or if is an indication that we are just fooling ourselves.
...that Patrick is fantastically generous, has so much to give, and is very emotionally available, while Justin is quieter, simpler, and suits me better.
...that I probably could have had Patrick if I really wanted to (and if I was a different person with a different range of experiences), and that there are important reasons why we are not together (one being that I never wanted to be in a relationship with him).
...that it's easy to see the good things other people have, and to feel lacking in the comparison.
...that different things suit different people, that what is great for one person doesn't work for another, and that all is contextual; that every relationship is and needs to be diffrent.
...that it's so hard to know whether that's actually true or if that's just what I tell myself.
...that I am not very good at letting people be there for me.
...that I feel that it is important for me to remain self-contained and not expect significant help for my problems from other people.
...that too much pitying concern saps my strength and makes me unhealthy; that I'm better when I can stand on my own.
...that Patrick defines a relationship as supporting each other, but I don't know how to receive support.

What's the problem? The problem is comparisons, and that I'm not very good at being a person.

Yes Candide

Brief plot summary: Candide is raised in his uncle's castle, and falls in love with his cousin Cundegonde. Unfortunately, he gets caught kissing her and expelled. In the outside world he faces a harsh reality: war, shipwreck, earthquake, the Inquisition, murder, the loss of friends and mentors, and in the end, boredom. His luck turns around at times: he is briefly taken in by a kind Anabaptist, he hopes to reunite with his love Cunegonde, he discovers other friends he thought were dead, he finds the magical world of El Dorado, and he becomes wealthy. However, over the course of the story, the hardships outweigh the joys, and Candide becomes disillusioned.

I recently finished reading Candide (Subtitled Optimism) by Voltaire. I felt pretty smart to be reading such a distinguished author (whose house and tomb I have actually seen, although it didn't matter all that much to me at the time), and Candide was surprisingly readable. It's a satire exploring the Enlightenment idea that this is the best of all possible worlds, told through the story of a boy named Candide who grows up being taught this worldview, but then has it threatened by experience with the world.

The introduction describes the Optimism mocked by Candide as a philosophical position claiming that "in spite of errors and appearances God's creation is as good as it could be," (xi) and "that all that is and happens is for the best." (xii) The endnotes continue, "This world is the best possible world, because God, being all-wise, must know all possible worlds, being all-powerful, must be able to create whatever he chooses, and being all-good, must choose the best." (122) This is the philosophy of Leibniz, represented in the story by Candide's professor Pangloss. It involves a priori reasoning ("arguments from logic rather than experience" [128]) that reminds me of the belief that the earth is the center of the universe: because of who God is and who we are, things must be a certain way; never mind checking to see if the evidence supports such a theory.
Such a philosophy also leads to a belief in cause and effect: everything has contributed to the best of all possible worlds and each contribution is therefore necessary for the perfect conclusion. Pangloss explains, "Things cannot be other than they are: for, since everything is made to serve an end, everything is necessary for the best of ends." (4) Hence, fatalism.

Candide seems to discuss "the world" not just in the sense of the earth and universe, but the book also considers personal worlds, in an arrogant sense: my existence is the best possible existence, my castle is better than anyone else's, et cetera. However, most characters tell "worst of all possible worlds" stories as they elaborate upon their woes. While these tales could reinforce in Candide the idea that despite his hardships his existence was quite privileged, they instead have the opposite effect: Candide becomes discouraged in company with the others who suffer.

An alternative philosophy to Optimism is illustrated in the last half of the book by Candide's companion Martin. Martin's difficult life has led him to not expect good things. Late in the novel, when everyone else is miserable, we are told that "as for Martin, he was firmly persuaded that people are equally miserable wherever they are; he took things as they came." His low expectations for life made him more satisfied than anyone else with unavoidable harsh circumstances. This seems like a pretty good idea to me, but I'm not sure what Voltaire really thinks of it. Later Martin's outlook is referred to as "detestable principles." (91) That's the tricky thing about satires - I'm never sure if this time the author is being serious.

Despite all the suffering it describes, the book has a decidedly cheerful tone. Hardships are described in a matter-of-fact and off-hand way, and stories are told euphemistically. For instance, in punishment for appearing to desert from the army he is conscripted into, Candide is given the choice of running the gauntlet or being shot in the head. He reluctantly chooses the first option, but "as they were lining up for the third run, Candide, who could take no more, politely asked if they would instead be so kind as to cave his head in." (7) For this reason, I have a hard time seeing the characters of Candide as real human people. It seems to me like a cartoon. Of course, I am also swayed by the fantastic cartoon cover of my edition of the book.

There were a couple of lines in Candide that really caught my attention:
- "Stones were formed to be hewn and made into castles, hence his Lordship's beautiful castle." (4) Following Pangloss's explanation of how noses were made to wear glasses and legs were made for pants, this sentence carries the unfortunate idea that everything exists for human consumption and the earth is ours to abuse. I'm sure stones were made for more general reasons than the construction of castles.
- "It is the price we pay for the sugar you eat in Europe." (52) This sentence is spoken to Candide by a slave in South America, who has lost a hand and a leg as punishment for various infractions. It is as powerful to me outside of its context as in it, and it reminds me of my social justice-minded friends.

For nearly the entire story Candide pines after Cundegonde. Over and over he finds her and they become separated again, and the hope of reuniting with her permanently is what fuels his optimism. At the end of the story, he does find and ransom her, but by this time she has become ugly and mean. He no longer wants to marry her, but he does so anyway out of duty and spite. His dream didn't align with reality, and now that it has become reality it is akin to a nightmare. The things that we hope for so often don't turn out to be as good as we expect.

Candide and his friends seem reasonably happy at the end of the story (the very end of the story, not the almost-end), when they devote themselves to simple work. However, I can't decide if they're actually happy. Candide is not as deliriously happy as he expected to be, but neither is he as miserable as he is at the near-end of the story when he has a hard time deciding whether his current boredom is perhaps worse than all the other malfortunes he and his friends have faced. When Pangloss starts spouting his philosophy about how all their hardships were necessary for the agreeable place they ended up (and eating candied citron and pistachios does sound pretty good), Candide responds, "that is well said..." (94) He doesn't deny or challenge the claim that they are satisfactorily happy. (Then again, he never seems to directly argue with Pangloss.) However, by his affirmation Candide may intend to say "I hear you," more than "I completely agree," as he goes on to say, "but we must cultivate our garden." I think he has accustomed himself to a quieter sort of happiness. He may not consider it the best possible existence, but he is satisfied that neither is it the worst. Being relatively free from pain leaves him relatively happy.

I found the philosophical exploration in Candide interesting, but it did not relate directly to my life because I myself do not spend much time wondering about whether or not this is the best of all possible worlds. Personally, I found greater value in the book as a story of Candide growing up (Wikipedia considers Candide to be a classic bildungsroman) and of what happens to the beliefs that he is raised with as they come into conflict with the realities of the world. At the beginning, he is thoroughly convinced of the teaching he receives that this is the best possible world. As he faces hardships, he goes through various stages of doubt: he continues to interpret his new experience in light of his learned philosophy; he wonders what other existences must be like if his is the best and yet so miserable; he wishes his professor were present to explain how his new experiences fit within the philosophy; he imagines he might begin to argue against the philosophy were his professor available; he is swayed by good luck to believe it again; he acknowledges his previous circumstances were greatly lacking but believes that perfect existence had to exist somewhere; he claims he is giving up on Optimism altogether; in good circumstances he still finds himself believing it by default; and then it gradually slips away from him. He goes through a phase of bitter loss, but ends up with a peaceful compromise, believing that his existence is relatively agreeable and that is enough. Loss of belief is not a smooth, straightforward path; it oscillates between doubt and faith, like a pendulum that eventually achieves balance.