Grits and lots of love

Last weekend was spent in a whirlwind trip in sunny, steamy Georgia with family, friends, and fur-babies - with plenty of nature and good food.

Highlights of the weekend:

• A beautiful wedding in rural Georgia
• A night out with the siblings (including Ash and Kolbie)
• The food, oh the food
• The uproarious laughter and chatter of the Martin household
• Basking in the glorious heat

Any time spent with my family will result in the inevitable Fifi quote of the weekend:

"I'm just glad his girlfriend isn't a blowup doll."
(No context needed, really. It really was that awkward. This is why she has her own quote book.)

And the cuteness award goes to:

While it is a toss up between the four dogs, one cat, and all the children, it goes to the nieces. Because they are adorbs to the nth degree.


And in case you didn't know that KM is Fifi's granddaughter... the KM quote of the weekend:

After being told that being pulled in a wagon (her "royal carriage") over and over was wearing the adults out she said, "Well, it's not wearing me out!"
...meanwhile, she waved to her royal subjects on the deck.



It's been cool and cloudy at home in Chicago today. I had grits and blackeyed peas for lunch yesterday.

Lots of love to my Southerners from my quiet Midwestern apartment.

Repost: 16 things I will miss about India

Wow, it's been nearly a year since I moved back from India. I can not believe that.  Turns out, I do miss these things about India... and the friends I met there... and my India mom jeans... and so much more.

Bare with me as I reminisce.

16 days until Home.

Green oranges from the street vendors

I will certainly miss all of the food, the friends that have been my family and support system this year, and finding simple victories in a world where nothing makes sense. 

I am sure I will also miss things that I can’t fathom missing at this moment (like the noise and all those things that don’t make sense), but for now here are the other things I know I will miss about India:

Animals everywhere

1. Old ladies talking to me endlessly, regardless of the fact that I don’t speak Telegu
2. Veg Manchurian.. this is a supreme guilty pleasure
3. The smell of frying peppers
4. “Excusememadamfromwhichcountry?” – all one word from street strangers
5. “Hello, sista! How are you?” - from the girls in the neighborhood
6. Children laughing uncontrollably if I smile at them
7. Monkeys - *jazz hands* - (and pigs and goats and cows and buffalo)
8. Being blissfully surprised when the street stall has masala chai
9. MANGOS
10. Colors and celebrations, constant
11. Buying veggies from Naveen
12. Buying fruit on the roadside (now that I know what things cost!)
13. Finger bowls (they are like a little post-dinner hand spa – but in India they are never this fancy.  Who snobbed up the finger bowl?)
14. Limca – I don’t always drink soda, but when I do I prefer Limca.
15. Ridiculous English mistakes
16. And yes, maybe even Kingfisher.. (maybe not.)

My favorite English mistake

Also, 5 things I KNOW I will never miss:

1. The garbage
2. The pigeons
3. The men gawking
4. Being required to cover my legs
5. The vast inequalities
   
   

   

   Home Sweet Home

   

   Celebrations

A Very Merry Unbirthday to You!

Today is technically my 29 1/2 birthday. In six months, I will be 30. Do you remember when half birthdays were so important? I was totally that 4 1/2 year old who clarified with a loud "and a half!" to the adults who thought she was just 4. (And if a friend was 4 1/2, I was absolutely 4 3/4!)

I'm the sassy 4 1/2 ish one with the white gloves. Big sis Rae is not impressed.

Those were the days, huh? The days when being six months older (or three months, or just saying that you were even when you weren't) was meaningful and boast-worthy.

In truth, I am very much looking forward to being 30 and putting these pesky 20s in the past. I like that I am more confident and have a path (for now) and feel steady (but still adventurous). I'm ready for 30.

But, as I type, I have a heating pad on my knee because it has been aching all week for no particular reason whatsoever. On my other knee, a sizable bruise is developing from ramming it into the coffee table last night.

We ordered dinner in tonight. And there are beer and wine options. What a fitting way to spend a Friday night that happens to be one's 29 1/2 birthday.

But, you know, it's lovely.

I hope you, too, are having a very merry unbirthday. (Unless of course it is your birthday, in which, happy birthday!)

Also, how trippy is Alice in Wonderland??




The true brilliance of being an adult is realizing all the things you missed when you were a kid!

Chicago is (scientifically) the best at humor

Back in April, Chicago was ranked the funniest city in America by the Humor Lab - yes, that exists.

"Researchers hailed Chicagoans for their witty banter and observational humor, specifically citing the local penchant for poking fun at the brutal weather and the CTA."(Tribune)

Yes, I believe that, certainly. And if you know about Second City or if you IMDB some of your favorite comedy movies/sitcoms/SNL, you will find that Chicago has a reputation of creating clever folk.

The thing that (non-Humor Lab tested) I would add to the comic commentary is that this Midwestern Urban Mecca has mastered the ability to laugh at themselves. I mean, come on, here's what they deal with here: occasionally and/or chronically suffering sports teams, persistently corrupt politicians, winter, the CTA, WINTER - Chicagoans need humor.

People go to work in this mess.

This is public art.

White guys wearing Broncos beanies preside over Chinese New Year.

They laugh at themselves. And they do it well and with a laid back attitude that says, "Of course that happened and yeah, I'll laugh about it, because what else is there to do." And then they move on. 

Atlanta, with its #3 spot on the Humor Lab List, has humor; but its comedy is, by contrast, necessary because of the things we.just.can't.get.over.already. (The Time's list specifically points out the high number of race related jokes, for instance.)

And beyond the chronic issues facing ATL (traffic, anyone?), my opinion is that Southern culture does not lend itself to laughing at oneself. (This is also an untested hypothesis except through the years of being my mother's daughter. Yes, Mom, I did do that one thing 15 years ago. Let it go.) I would imagine that Southern jokes are more outwardly pointed than Chicago humor.

I read in an article recently that a touring comedian loves doing shows in Chicago, rather than L.A. He pointed out that the audience in Chicago is more real. Regular, non-agent, non-industry citizens go out to comedy clubs here. And they get it.

On Friday, I went to the Chicago premier of They Came Together (Amy Poehler and Paul Rudd spoof romantic comedy) at the Chicago Critics Film Festival. There were moments when laughter drowned out the sound of the movie. Afterward, the director David Wain (Wet Hot American Summer) joked that when the film was tested with "less smart and less funny regular people...people in L.A. not Chicagoans" there was a lot more silence. To get the humor across, the film added more scenes that spoon fed the spoof in it all.

I would argue that Chicagoans would have gotten it without Amy saying, "It's like a cheesy romantic movie, except it's not a movie." But that's just me. This city's residents are used to laughing at themselves. Spoof is what they do.

PS Go see They Came Together in June. (If you understand absurdity and enjoy Poehler and Rudd.)

Love, your baby girl.. still

 Happy Mother's Day, all! And especially to the one-of-a-kind mother of mine.

This is a  re-post from my old blog.. from two years ago, wow! That was way back when grad school was winding down, and pre-India, and pre-Chicago. Seems like ages and yesterday. And this ode to my mom stands true today.

Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderfully wacky, nosy, understanding, completely unique moms out there. Your kids (child or adult sized) love you, even if they do roll their eyes about it. For Mom:

My mother’s emails and cards and letters to me are addressed to “My baby girl.”  My mom does a lot of things that, from other people, I find unacceptable.  

My mom is always excited to see me.  She exclaims when I walk in the door as if she is surprised - even if I called her to tell her I was coming, even if it is a family gathering, even if she just saw me three days ago.  I roll my eyes.

My mom is a hugger.  I am not a hugger.  She hugs me anyway.  And I let her.

My mom lives out loud.  She laughs loudly, and often.  She never hesitates to say what’s on her mind, ever.  She is vibrant and sociable.  (I did not inherit these things from my mother.)

My mom is resilient.  She keeps a cluttered schedule and works hard.  She is headstrong and stubborn, especially when she knows she’s right. (I do inherit these things from my mother.)

I accept these things because my mom is a unique mother.  She is human, very human, and has never tried to hide that fact.  I think this is what allows her to be such a great mom to her now adult children.  She accepts us as humans, and treats us accordingly.

My mom has held me in her arms while I cried as an adult, and not said a word, because she knows that the last thing I would want to do in that moment is to talk or to listen.  My mom has encouraged me to follow my own path in life.  

My mom is genuine, sometimes naive, never inhibited.  My mom is kind, oh so kind.  She is thoughtful and heartfelt and caring.  

Most importantly, my mother is supportive.  In every step I take, even as it takes me away from her for periods of time, my mom is there, supporting me.  I don’t always make it easy on her. My dreams are not the ones we agreed upon when I was a bright child who was interested in science.  My life is not one that is traditional, necessarily.  There are milestones that I have not reached that I know my mom wants me to reach – preferably in her lifetime. (I know this because she basically passes out business cards to any and all single men she meets under the age of 40.)  

But the thing is, even though I know that it must be difficult for her to be as unconditionally supportive as she is all the time, she makes it look so easy.

So, no matter what I do or how far I roam, I will always take comfort in knowing that I am My Mom’s Baby Girl.  And that is the best comfort that I know.

Five things I learned at kickboxing class (not punching)

Last night was Week Six of kickboxing class. It was also the first class in which we spent the majority of the hour actually kicking and boxing. You can imagine that I was not happy about the first five (out of ten) weeks of the class. In fact, I kept setting an ultimatum to myself - "if we don't actually kickbox this week, I'm not coming back!"

The trouble is that the instructor is a nice person and the number of people who attend the class is sometimes only three (out of 12 or so signed up). I feel bad... OMG, Midwesterner habits are growing on me!

Ok, ok. I also acknowledge that it is important to do something active, so I don't mind the cardio and "body sculpting" that Jermaine has been putting us through too much. Here are five things I've learned at kickboxing class, none of which are kicking or punching:

1. Scissor jacks are jumping jacks without the arms. I don't understand why you would do both. Jermaine seems to think they are different.
2. Ab exercises often equate to neck and back exercises when your abs aren't strong enough to do most of the work. I'm going to have a neck like Cold Stone Steve Austin by the end of this course!
3. Cold Stone Steve Austin isn't a wrestler with a large neck. Stone Cold Steve Austin is. But I would be more likely to watch wrestling if the ice cream salon was involved. Sponsorship opportunity, anyone?
4. Apparently, in workout world, the phrase "if you're getting tired, go faster" is a thing. This makes no sense to me. I breathlessly screeched as much out loud in class last week. It still makes no sense, Jermaine!
5. The exercise I fail at most is one with no name. It involves an elastic band and a lot of pulling upward. Supposedly, it works best if you grunt or yell while you are doing them. I like to call it the Superstar exercise. (This is Jermaine's fault; he referenced the Molly Shannon movie in hopes of motivating us last week. Sadly, I identify very well with the awkwardness and strain of this reference.)

I do a weird thing with my pelvis when I try these.

Attempt 1 at grunting to make it better.

Looking for Jermaine's approval... I didn't get it.

Attempt 2 at the grunt/roar. I'd say it's better. Even if Jermaine disagrees.

 What is Molly Shannon doing these days, anyway? What an inspiration she is.

PS Is it normal not to feel sore the day after a workout, but to feel unable to move freely two days later??

Losing my way with words.

It has been a while since I posted here. There are quite a few reasons for that.. life was over-busy for a minute there, I was tired of talking about the winter, I was just tired....

Mostly, it was because I had a "so what" feeling towards blogging. It was starting to feel a lot like a John Mayer song. (Sings to herself, "No more 3x5s.....")

And yes, my hipstery young friends, I know that John Mayer is such a jerk and totally too pop-y. I know, right.

But, the thing is, I was in the height of teenage-ness when he sang about breaking down the doors of high schools. And then he wrote a song about Georgia and put a name to the feeling of a quarter life crisis, resonating with me as I was hitting mine. So yes, sometimes my feelings remind me of John Mayer songs. I'm not sorry.

[End rant]

Anyway, the point is, I wasn't sure what I was getting out of sharing my words (and photos) with you.

But then.. Wednesday, I tweeted at - is that how you make Twitter into a verb - I tweeted at The Blogess. And now Jennie Lawson, The Blogess, is following me on Twitter.

This fact compels me to feel that I should start using the Twitter again. And inspires me to blog again. Because, I remember that I do get pleasure from writing. I do, I do!

And so, I'm writing you to catch you up on places I've been. I'm finally in the mood to lose my way with words. (Yes, I just paraphrased John Mayer lyrics. Still not sorry.)

Luckily, not too much has happened since the last time I wrote.. sort of. Well, here are the highlights:

Winter continued..

So I popped out for a second..

It's warmer now, but I still get excited when the temps break 50 degrees and spend every second outdoors that I can when it is non-rainy and non-chilled.

I went to a couple of fancy parties re:work.

And Chicago continues to woo me.

And my sis and niece dropped by for a sec. (PS, KB's team rocked in the Windy City Classic. Wish I had been able to catch a game!)


And that's about it. Oh, I also started a kick boxing class... more on that next week.