24 Random Things About Me.

I'm still debating which end of the spectrum I fall on with the new Facebook phenomenon, but I'm going to do it because maybe it will launch some ideas for future blogs. Plus, I've loved reading others' and learned about my friends.

24 Random Things About Me... In honor of Ken Griffey, Jr.

1. For some reason I decided in high school to memorize pi as far as I could: 3.14159265358979323846264338327950 ... I don't think I will ever forget that sequence of numbers. Which is scary.
2. I need motivation to run, so I'm in the process of picking another 1/2 marathon.
3. My favorite smells are baseball glove leather, chalk, and coffee. Not together.
4. I don't own any soaps or perfumes in those fragrances. Not socially acceptable. Those tend to be along the limey, coconutty, minty lines.
5. I have spent 20 weeks total in Haines, Alaska.
6. I have also been to Italy, Greece, France, Kyrgyzstan, The Dominican Republic, and Japan. Haines wins the beauty contest by a landslide.
7. I have two older brothers who let me tag along while they played sports and such. I owe them a lot for athletic ability and more importantly, self-confidence.
8. I shed some tears when Ken Griffey, Jr asked to be traded. I was in college at the time.
9. I had an imaginary friend when I was younger. Her name was Ariana. Good times.
10. I'm working on memorizing I John. I like memorizing stuff.
11. My most memorable Halloween costumes from my childhood were Punky Brewster and ALF.
12. I love to laugh and always want to hang out with people who make me laugh and don't take themselves too seriously.
13. I teach my nephews important things like how to raise one eyebrow, the UW fight song, and how to eat like a squirrel.
14. My oldest brother named me after a girl he liked in Kindergarten.
15. I really like words and languages. I studied Spanish and Japanese in high school. I tried to learn as much Russian as possible in Kyrgyzstan. I love crossword puzzles.
16. My favorite foods all start with 'p' ... Pag's Pizza, Polish Sausage (w/ cream cheese!), Pumpkin Bread, Pineapple, Potato Soup.
17. The life verse I chose when I was baptized on 02/02/02 is Psalm 16:8 - "I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken." I love the idea of God before me in all things and next to me through it all.
18. My current hot beverage of choice is a tall americano with one pump of white mocha and light room. Maybe I'm more high-maintenance than I thought.
19. My top 5 strengths according to the official book on strengths are: arranger, adaptability, relational, responsibility, achiever. Basically, I like to be productive alongside other people while considering/balancing lots of variables.
20. I can touch my elbows behind my back. Go ahead, try it.
21. My favorite number is 21. I was once kind of obsessed with the number and pointed it out whenever I saw it - street signs, whatever. Then I decided I wanted to have friends when I grew up.
22. I was born with a hole in my right lung. I have the cross-shaped scar to prove it.
23. I floss every single day.
24. I know that filling this out is going to mess up my game next time I play "Two truths and a lie." Unless, of course, any of these are lies... Which they aren't (which may or may not be true).

Our Foxy Lady

No fear, dear reader (hi Mom!), blogging less was not my New Year's resolution. Instead, my New Year's resolution was to get a dog and convince my parents' to let her live at their house.

So, inspired by the puppycam, we found our very own Shiba Inu, Kitsu (short for Kitsune, which is Japanese for "fox"). We couldn't love her more! And so far, joint custody has worked out quite well.


So, now you see the actual reason for my absence from blogdom: taking time to write would have robbed me of puppy time. And that's just not acceptable. I mean, she already will fetch a tennis ball and sit on command! No fawning over her is too much fawning. However, I still have Christmas stories I need to write and I intend to do so - even if it means a little less time gazing at Kitsu while she sleeps, saying, "She's so cute!" Further proof:

Hope

Rick Reilly is one of my favorite sports writers and you owe it to yourself to read this piece. Where would any of us be without hope?

Who is My Neighbor?

Snow in Seattle will always be magical to me. I can remember sitting near the back sliding door updating my mom every 2-3 minutes on the status of the snow from the time of the first snowflake. "Still snowing!"

We all know the snow is fun for snowball fights, sledding, and snowman-making. It's a great excuse to skip work for many people and it turns our gray worlds into bright white snowglobes. I love the absolute silence that comes with the snow. Any time I go for a walk, I make it a point to stop so I no longer hear the "swish" of my pants of the crunch of the snow beneath my boots. It is very rare that we have utter silence in our lives these days. As I write, I hear the whir of the VCR, the ticking of a clock, and the engines of the cars going by; but Sunday morning as I walked to work, I stopped and heard absolutely nothing for several minutes. It was a glorious awe-filled silence that spoke louder to me than anything audible possibly could.

I know the hazards of snow, too. One check of the facebook status updates of my virtual friends tells me there are many who are stir-crazy, some stuck at airports, and others simply ready to get on with their normal lives. I understand those plights and have certainly found myself frustrated at times as well. Of course, there are others facing even more dire circumstances, for whom the sky is their roof and the snow is a cold, unwelcome visitor to their home. As the snow fell last week, I couldn't help but think of those living in Nickelsville particularly, which tempered my excitement.

But today's events won me over for snow and reminded me of its magic. My day was bookended by good Samaritans. This morning, as I struggled for the second time to get the chains on my tires, cars whizzed by for 20 minutes. I thought about how great a second pair of hands would be for the task as a suburban slowed down, stopped 20 yards down the road, and backed up. The driver rolled down the window to ask if I needed help. I can't remember if I said anything or if the frustrated look on my face gave me away, but he immediately pulled over in front of my car, hopped out with his friend and they helped me get the chains on the tires of the Vibe. (Ok, by "they helped," I mean "they did everything.") It took 10 minutes or so and I got to know a couple of mortgage bankers who would be great to call if I ever actually make enough money to buy a house. No, they did not stop to make a customer. Yes, I did get a business card. Yes, they will get a Christmas card in the mail from me.

Tonight, I got home and discovered the plows had left piles of snow (that was now ice) between the road and the parking alongside the road. To my dear vibe, piles of icy snow are insurmountable mountains. So, I somehow wedged my way over near the curb and went to get a shovel with which to clear a better spot and conquer that mountain so that my life will be easier in the morning. As I finish my task, a man approaches and asks if I'm trying to get my car out. I immediately think he wants my parking spot or doesn't want me parking in front of my house or needs to fit his car in front of mine. Then I see the shovel he's holding and he says, "I was just talking on the phone and I looked out the window and saw you shoveling and thought I'd come help." I talked to Paul, my neighbor for several minutes, discovered his wife works at Safeway, he's lived in Seattle his whole life, and his house was built in the 1930s by the same people who built the house I'm renting.

I repeat: I TALKED TO MY NEIGHBOR. In this age of not acknowledging anyone, I'm struck by how a little snow can create a human connection between us and prompt us to reach out to each other. College students were using brooms to get snow off the tents in Nickelsville last Thursday. People at the bus stop acknowledged each other and had full conversations. I talked to my neighbor.

We were made to connect with people. We can see God in people we've never met before and we are called to serve all those in need. I think we suppress that need for connection, but it's so innate that it only takes a little snow to bring it to the surface. I heart snow always and forever. (Unabridged version)

Who's Right?

"Nobody's perfect"
or
"Practice makes perfect"

...because I'm not sure there's room for both sayings in one language.

I'm Back... Now Where Did I Leave that Soapbox?

I’m back from my month-long inpatient rehab and though the detox was painful, I have learned there is still reason to live and ways to spend my time other than refreshing bbc.com. For instance, I can take up my soapbox issue: The misuse of “literally.” I know, I know, there are better causes to stand for, but this simply needs to be brought into the light and it distracts me from the world of politics. I heard three absolutely egregious abuses of the defenseless word that must be called out:

“It literally reeks of desperation.” – The writer (a professional writer) did not go on to describe any kind of actual odor. He just compared the concept of a Grammys Nomination Concert to something about Fantasy Football. Do they bottle “Desperation?” I bet it actually smells mysteriously seductive.

Commercial: “If you don’t buy your windows from (insert company name here), you’re literally throwing your money out the window.” – No I’m not, you just happen to use an English idiom to create a clever pun. Perhaps I am figuratively throwing said money, but no cash or coins will actual be expelled from my window.

Sports commentator: “They are literally shooting themselves in the foot right now.” I don’t remember which team was Coug’ing it at the time, but I do know Plaxico Burress was not involved.

The sad thing is, I think our VP-elect is one of the worst abusers of this word… And then there's this. D’oh!

… I might need to check back into Politicaholics Anonymous rehab.

Do They Have a 12-Step Group for This???

Hi, my name is Becky and I'm addicted to political and election news. It's official. I have an addiction. To something more than coffee, that is.

I should have seen the warning signs:

• Watching Rachel Maddow on TiVo before sunrise.
• Getting home from the INN feeling too tired to brush my teeth, but good enough to see what Jon Stewart had to say.
• ...And Colbert too.
• My newfound ability to name a dozen different polling agencies.
  
• Confusing Sarah Palin and Tina Fey.
• Waking up to realize Sean Hannity and Keith Olbermann were in my dream.
• Considering Anderson Cooper and Campbell Brown two of my closest friends.

Now that there is a proverbial light at the end of this pundit- and pander-filled tunnel, I'm starting to wonder what I'm going to do with my time. Most people will say they can't wait for this season to be finished so they won't have to watch the ads anymore. I can't help but wonder if they are secretly suffering from the same disease as I am. It's not the ads. It's my inability to turn away from the ads. I should not feel as though I'm on a first-name basis with most of the people pictured.

Don't get me wrong, I pay attention to politics all the time and I also realize nothing really changes on November 5. It's not like I'm being forced to quit cold turkey. This seems analogous to those who are finishing a great novel in one of those (seemingly) never-ending series. Harry Potter comes to mind. I can't wait to see how the story ends, but I will miss it once it's over. In fact, I already went back and re-read the whole metaphorical book before I finished the last chapter. That's right, this weekend - the weekend before the election - I watched a retrospective of the 2008 presidential campaigns. It was a sentimental journey through debates, 3am phone calls, lipstick on a pig, and a few Joes (Biden, Six-pack, and The Plumber). Those were the days.

The first step is admitting you have a problem, right? It's time for me to look up steps 2 through 12. Let's just hope the headaches aren't as bad as when I try to give up coffee.