Baby baby!

Three or four years back, a ton of my friends were getting married. In the past couple years, some of these friends have started having children. And just this year, two of my oldest (duration, not age) friends have become pregnant. One, an awesome and lovely woman with whom I went to grade school, high school, and college, is due to give birth December 5th. In a strange coincidence, that date happens to be the anniversary of the day I was hit as Carleen and I tried to cross a busy road. I'm excited for that date to take on a new significance. Carleen and her husband have kept a blog journaling their first year of marriage and, now, their journey into parenthood. I recommend it.

My other friend, Nancy, was my roommate through all four years of college. It's only in hindsight that I see how much of a saint she was to put up with me! After college she moved back to California, and I couldn't have been more excited when she fell for a guy from Southwest Ohio and returned to the Midwest a few years ago. Nancy's four months pregnant and, like Carleen, I know she'll be a terrific mother.

Speaking of babies, mine isn't quite ready for the world. As you can see, I've colored in a few rectangles. Progress is being made. But I'm still a couple thousand words behind. Still, I'm hopeful to finish this month, allowing December to be revision month, and then January I can give my baby to beta readers.

Ok, Let's Do This Thing

I last saw Marianne and Daniel in London, 2008. She’s returned to the states (and Daniel is making his first visit!) to tour and visit old friends. Yesterday I drove up to Denison to meet her and some of our friends from the Columbus area. We marveled at how normal it felt to be there on campus; it didn’t feel like eight years had passed since we graduated and walked for hours asking each other, Remember when?! (More often than not, we did).

Today, three of us are writers. One has finished novels and has sent out queries. Another has heaps of stories, some published, some not; some under a pen name, some under her own. And then there’s me.

I’m still stuttering a bit but refusing to fall backwards. I enrolled last week for the fall semester of Woman Writing for (a) Change. The group describes its mission as

Empowering individuals from all walks of life to develop their voices and celebrate their stories, through the art of writing and the creation of community.

The class I will be taking meets weekly, and I look forward to being part of this community. It is for women looking for a creative outlet as well as for ones, like me, who want accountability and feedback as they write.

Drinking Locally

My grocery store had a beer tasting Friday night with a local theme: all beers and food served were brewed and produced here in the Cincinnati area. One girl joined us who was in the midst of a round-the-world journey. She's from Melbourne, Australia, and drove from Alaska, across the Canadian Rockies, and back down into the states. What did she think of Cincinnati, I asked? Diplomatically, she said she loves the outdoors and isn't too fond of cities. Up next for her is Scotland and Israel.

Station One:

• Mild Wild Ale - this was a pretty dark beer to start out with, but it's described as "an English session ale with a nice malty flavor which is meant to be drank in large quantities" (of course, we only had 2 oz).
• Ratatouille - eggplant, local zucchini, etc; I skipped it.

Station Two:

• No. 42 Cream Ale - this was yummy; made with corn!
• Sloppy Joes - these weren't so sloppy, but they were still delicious.

Station Three:

• Smoked Bock Beer - this supposedly had "a great smoky bacon flavor and who doesn't love bacon!!!" (I love bacon, but not in my beer)
• Italian Beef Sandwiches - small but thick slice of beef was served in a pita.

Station Four:

• 186,000 MPS Craft Malt Liquor - the server made sure to point out this was 10% alcohol, twice the amount of other samples. Good thing are portions are so small.
• Baked Zucchini Fries - skipped

Station Five:

• Enter the Beagle IPA - this was my favorite of the night, just a classic IPA, not too heavy but still flavorful.
• Kenny's Farmhouse Cheese - small cubes of local cheese paired with roasted almonds; these were awesome together.

We went to Buca Di Bepo for dinner where my awesome friends paid for my share of the food and wine. Two other tables were celebrating birthdays; as the staff joined in a second rendition of "Happy happy birthday" I made everyone promise not to tell them it was mine also: they obliged.

The Reds are fifteen games over .500--this is a great time to be a fan, or a great time to jump on the bandwagon. After so many years of disappointment, I think much of the city is still skeptical. But I say just enjoy it; winning seasons don't come around that often, even if we don't ultimately win the pennant.

Saturday Night Musing

I really like the idea of meeting new people and expanding my circle of friends. In fact, if I hadn't indulged in that idea the past couple years, I wouldn't have some of my closest friends. It's good to be open, friendly, receptive to new people and experiences!

But I'm fiercely loyal. And sometimes it's so nice to be surrounded by people you love and trust and who love and trust you back. To be yourself and know that it's good enough? Man, there's nothing better.

Agreeing to Disagree

I came of age when postmodernism was all the rage. You know, because we all see things from our own unique perspectives, we each have our own version of what's "true," and no "truth" is more valid than the next. It's an attractive philosophy, particularly when you've been taught one narrative your entire live; postmodernism challenges that narrative.

As I've written before, postmodernism was extremely attractive to me. But at some point, I found myself tearing apart things I believed to be true; what was the point but to become extremely skeptical and, ultimately, cynical?

But one of my least favorite phrases to come from this fad is "agree to disagree." You know, I think this, you think that, we'll never reach consensus so let's let it lie. We are each entitled to our own opinions, but we are not entitled to our own truths. Then again, when we have fundamental disagreements about religion, higher powers, and the role of government, we can't expect to find consensus, can we?

I went out for drinks with my conservative friend. We tried and tried to stay away from politics but it seems we couldn't help ourselves. Oh how I wish I were smarter and knew more and could rebut quickly things I strongly suspect to be inaccurate. But instead I found myself saying, "Ooooooooooooh. New topic. No common ground."

Ah well, we had fun with our margaritas...

Common Ground

Last week, a friend responded to what I thought was a rather innocuous statement about wanting the country to "go a little faster" with what I thought was a reactionary, alarmist, tea bagger/Ayn Randian diatribe. This was a shock, to say the least, and judging by how much I've thought about it and replayed it, the whole exchange has me troubled.

My friend wept for me because I sound like I advocate revolution. I don't want an individualistic democracy where citizens pull themselves up by their bootstraps - I want socialism, she said. After all, progressives are really socialists. I want a dictator and loss of freedom. She asked me to explain myself. She wrote, I see the danger you don't see.

Normally I would have discounted such a reply. I would play it off to ignorance and fear. But me and her, we've known each other since our freshman years of high school, I've vacationed with her and her family, and I know she's smart and reasonable. I couldn't discard the reply.

I told her that I'm not calling for revolution. There's an on-going debate over the role the government plays in our lives, and it's the push and pull between the two sides that allows our country to change, adapt, and correct itself. I may not always like the direction it's going, but this is why we have elections. I thought this was a reasonable and even simplistic remark, but even this came off as radical.

This was not just a political debate between friends; rather, it illustrates one of the biggest problems our country seems to have--despite so much common ground and common goals between us, two distinct world views divide us. And because of the corrupting influences of money and power, our leaders are unwilling or impotent to bridge that gap.

Grown-up Things (cont.)

Our friends hosted a potluck dinner party last night. Mike and Nancy, who got married last summer, have a lovely suburban house with a great back yard, complete with swing set and hill (I did go down the slide, feet first, and I may or may not have rolled down the hill).

Many of my friends (myself included) are in periods of transition. We may have had college educations and post-graduate experience, but our jobs haven't been careers; or the positions were temporary. Mike and Nancy seem the exception. They not only have stable careers that will remain in the Cincinnati area, they also have put down permanent roots here. Mike loved showing off his composting and gardens full of peppers, onions, broccoli, and tomatoes. Nancy served a home-cooked meal, chicken, mashed potatoes, and dinner rolls; there were five dessert options.

Two months from now, my savings account depleted, I may be kicking myself for my decision. I had a kind of stability that is hard to come by these days. But obviously I don't think that will be the case.

(My first "Grown-up Things" entry)

Lost, Love, and Life

"Lost" premiered in the fall of 2004 just as John Kerry was getting swift-boated and I was getting started with grad school. I instantly loved the show, with its mixture of science fiction, mythology, and deeply-layered characters. In the second season, two of my oldest friends and I started gathering each week to watch and dissect the increasingly convoluted plots.

During the six seasons, the characters have been struggling to survive on this mysterious island where polar bears run amok, where some don't age, and where cancer is cured and paraplegics walk. Oh, and time travel. Can't forget about the time travel.

The sixth and last season has been comprised equally of scenes on the island, following the timeline with which we've become familiar, and of scenes in Los Angeles, ostensibly following a timeline in which the plane never crashed. And throughout, we've been scratching our heads - how are the two timelines going to reconcile? How are the writers going to explain these two realities? Surely, I'd thought, the answer would be found in the mythology and in the strange science of the island.

Last night was the series finale, and five of us gathered to watch (my "oldest" friends with their respective significant others and me, solo). The finale focused less on the mythology--frozen donkey wheels, electromagnetism, and four-toed statues--than on the characters and their respective personal journeys. We learned that this last season--at least the scenes in L.A.--has been a sort of purgatory, a timeless place for characters to reconnect after they have died, regardless of when they have died.

This one will resonate for a while. I thought immediately of the appropriateness of me watching the show that ultimately celebrated love and relationships with people I've known and been friends with for twenty-five years (recall - I'm not yet thirty!) I thought secondly about something my dad wrote almost exactly one year ago as he prepared to leave Kenya yet again:

Life is about more than the stuff. Like we already knew, life is about the relationships. Life is about Mary and Naomi, Rachel, Benerd, Daniel, Chris and Fred, Jonah, Benson, Diane and Gladys, Judy and Zach and Lomori, Joseph 1,2 and 3. It is about Erin, Mickie, Spence, my mom, Mwololo, George, Paul and Pascal, Moses, Moris, Eunice, Mwendwa, Pastor, Kathy, Karen and John and Ngumbu. It is about all the people I know and love and have let just pass by. That is what I learned and what I know and what I live on each day. These relationships are important - like food. I need them to survive and without them, I am not alive.

Every one, every thing, connected.

Last week’s five after five

I don’t always blog about it, but I still spend my Fridays drinking wine at a grocery store. Last week’s was eventful for a couple reasons: first, two in our group missed it for the second week in a row because they had the nerve to go to Europe (thankfully, they’ll be back on Friday); second, my downstairs neighbor came along. He chastised me for not buying any of the wine I sample.

“I never buy wine.”

“Well, what kind do you like?”

“I don’t know, all of it.”

“How long have you been doing the tasting?”

“Uh, about a year.”

I felt a little sheepish. Maybe once I get my apartment clean I’ll have people over and will go back through some of my entries and pick out the best red and white wines that I’ve referred to.

As for last week’s, we started with The Jump Stump White – it was delicious and not too sweet. I also liked the Avanti Pinot Noir.

Anyway, I’m taking a break from grading essays. I only have seven or eight more for tonight. I’ve already marked all the papers; it’s just a matter of filling out the rubric and writing more detailed suggestions for revision.

Oh, Introverted World

The Atlantic had a great article recently about introverts, and extroverts' inability to truly understand them. In "Caring for Your Introvert," Johnathan Rauch writes that

[s]cience has learned a good deal in recent years about the habits and requirements of introverts. It has even learned, by means of brain scans, that introverts process information differently from other people....[A]fter an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."

While introverts make up 25% of the population, we remain a very misunderstood--and even oppressed, Rauch suggests--group of people. I don't know that I'd go that far, but I agree with Rauch that traits that characterize extroverts--outgoing, people-persons--are seen as positive, while traits that are applied to many of us introverts--loners, guarded, private--are seen as negatives.

I was just at dinner with a group of people. I spent 5 minutes being "on," telling stories, reacting presently, and then suddenly the light went out. It's almost comical in that I see it happen; I feel my energy drop and my patience wane. I still smile and nod and laugh when I'm supposed to--and I'm always grateful to be around company--but I can't turn that switch back on. This is the whole reason I abandoned my elementary teaching degree; I don't sustain the necessary energy.

Rauch writes about presidents and politicians typically being extroverts: Clinton and George W. among others. He says that "to think of the few introverts who did rise to the top in politics--Calivin Coolidge, Richard Nixon--is merely to drive home the point."

But Rauch doesn't mention Obama. While Obama does give great speeches and seems to feed off large crowds, one gets the sense that he needs his time and space to recharge. Obama reads and writes and wants time to reflect. He's definitely one of us.

Rauch concludes:

How can I let the introvert in my life know that I support him and respect his choice? First, recognize that it's not a choice. It's not a lifestyle. It's an orientation.

Second, when you see an introvert lost in thought, don't say "What's the matter?" or "Are you all right?"

Third, don't say anything else, either.

Five After Five

Traditions are important to me. This is why I go to my grandma's each Sunday to do laundry, even though I have a machine in my own basement. This is why I look forward to most free Saturdays, knowing that my mom and I will spend a couple hours perusing the shops and not buying anything but an iced mocha. This is why, in college, I got together with three girlfriends each Wednesday afternoon to complain about and celebrate our respective lives. And lately, this is why all week I look forward to hanging out in a grocery store each Friday evening.

I'm not sure when Five after Five started at Whole Foods in Cincinnati, but I started going in January. Customers pay $5 to get a wine glass and menu, and they go around to five different stations sampling wine and hors d'oeuvres. The wine portions amount to a third of a regular-sized glass, and so while customers may feel affected by the wine, they certainly haven't over-indulged.

I've learned a lot about wine, but I have to admit that I spend more time mustering the courage to try some of their food samples than I do reflecting on my reactions to pinot grigios and zinfandels. My favorite part of the experience comes at the last station. While the other four stations always have something new, station five always has three cheese samples. The samples vary in texture and flavor. The accompanying wine is almost always a red (I can't remember a time when it wasn't) and delicious.

Once my friends and I have eaten our cheese and drunk our wine, we get a tiny dessert sample and miniature cup of coffee and find a table large enough for our expanding group. This is another reason Fridays are so special to me: I've been able to invite and spend time with friends from high school, college, work, and childhood (and even others, through their various connections). I may not go to fancy parties or hot clubs, but I wouldn't trade this tradition for anything.

Edited to Add...

The menu for June 26th, 2009

Station One:

• Emeri Sparkling Sauvinon Blanc - this wine was light, crisp, and fizzy!
• Chilled Peach Chipotle Soup - I gave this to my friend, but everyone else thought this sweet, fruity soup was full of win.

Station Two:

• Yalumba Viognier - this white wine wasn't bad, but it wasn't memorable either!
• Prosciutto Wrapped Melon - I also passed on this dish; it was a piece of fruit wrapped in what looked like bacon.

Station Three:

• Ruffino Orvieto - a white blend, light and yummy
• Grilled Cilantro Lime Shrimp - I... didn't eat this one either. This is the first time I've gone three stations without eating any food.

Station Four:

• Penfolds "76" Shiraz/Cabernet - this red blend is a nice summer wine. It wasn't dry at all, which works for such small samples.
• Steakhouse Bruschetta - the toasted baguette had a really nice pesto on it; I didn't eat the steak.

Station Five:

• Gabbiano Chianti - another nice red from Italy.
• Fromage a Trios (Zamorano Marques de Castallio DO, Kaltbach Le Gruyere, & La Serena) - I don't remember which is which, but all three cheeses were delicious!

Correlation does not imply causation

In today's New York Times, Tara Parker-Pope writes about the benefits of friendships when it comes to an individual's long-term health. She says, 

In 2006, a study of nearly 3,000 nurses with breast cancer found that women without close friends were four times as likely to die from the disease as women with 10 or more friends. And notably, proximity and the amount of contact with a friend wasn’t associated with survival. Just having friends was protective.

There are a number of statistical relationships that she cites between friendships and survival. In fact, a stronger relationship exists between health and having a support system of friends than health and family. I don't doubt that there's some truth. But I also think back to my Research and Statistics course where it was drummed into us: Correlation does not equal causation. 

As soon as a statistical link is demonstrated, we have to look at the confounds, the alternative explanations. If someone has a strong network of friends, non-related support, then that tells us about that person. The same things that cause an individual to have many friends may be the same things that cause that person to fight cancer.