The weather lately has been especially grey (gray? I can't ever remember...) and it makes me mopey. It reminded me of #17 - Get caught in the rain and instead of getting mad, run around and enjoy it!
However, I've realized two things:
One. I don't like rain. I barely even like being wet. (Swimming not included in this statement.)
Two. It's impossible to plan for this.
Tuesday, April 26
Monday, April 25
Progress! #9: Start my own translation business
A teeny-weenie part of this has come to fruition!
My very own business cards arrived in the mail this weekend. They look happy and professional - I'm really pleased with how they turned out. (They were ordered off Vistaprint.com, which is a "discount" website with just about every office supply you can imagine - I half expected them to come looking like they were printed on a hand-me-down inkjet printer and cut with dull safety scissors.)
This means that I've arrived at The Intimidating Part of this item... the part where I have to have confidence in my abilities. I won't claim to be the first person with confidence issues, it's just that mine come with a side of I-don't-believe-people-when-they-compliment-me gravy to smother it. (someone please note that this might be the first time I've ever spoken negatively of gravy...) Perhaps it's my ego getting in the way, but most people who compliment my Spanish don't speak Spanish very well. Which to me begs the question... How do you know?
Then after hurdling over that mindblock, I have to be able to promote myself. That means inserting my shameless plug into conversations and talking to strangers and being excited instead of humble. I have to look people in the eye and say, "Hey! I'm awesome and here's why." I should write down three bullet points of awesomeness and recite them to myself every morning in the mirror. I wonder if that really works...?
But the business cards are step one. Even if it's the first out of 100.
My very own business cards arrived in the mail this weekend. They look happy and professional - I'm really pleased with how they turned out. (They were ordered off Vistaprint.com, which is a "discount" website with just about every office supply you can imagine - I half expected them to come looking like they were printed on a hand-me-down inkjet printer and cut with dull safety scissors.)
This means that I've arrived at The Intimidating Part of this item... the part where I have to have confidence in my abilities. I won't claim to be the first person with confidence issues, it's just that mine come with a side of I-don't-believe-people-when-they-compliment-me gravy to smother it. (someone please note that this might be the first time I've ever spoken negatively of gravy...) Perhaps it's my ego getting in the way, but most people who compliment my Spanish don't speak Spanish very well. Which to me begs the question... How do you know?
Then after hurdling over that mindblock, I have to be able to promote myself. That means inserting my shameless plug into conversations and talking to strangers and being excited instead of humble. I have to look people in the eye and say, "Hey! I'm awesome and here's why." I should write down three bullet points of awesomeness and recite them to myself every morning in the mirror. I wonder if that really works...?
But the business cards are step one. Even if it's the first out of 100.
Sunday, April 17
Progress Report: #8 - Sew a dress that I actually will wear
Quite a few of the items on my list are going to take skill and time to accomplish, so I thought I'd issue a progress report on one that I'm particularly excited about: #8 - sewing a dress that I'll actually wear.
This progress report is provided by my crafty friend Leslie, who is a very driven crafter. She's made jewelry, decoupage boxes, knit things and more (and done it well, I might add). Most importantly shebullied encouraged me to go to a sewing class at a local craft store, Bon Bon Atelier, back in November to make "retro aprons." These looked very complicated to a neophyte sewer such as I was - lots of layers, strings that tie in the back, and a gathered front that was oh-so-cute! Fortunately for me, the teacher/store owner was gloriously patient with me and my apron turned out muy adorable - so much so that I made two as gifts for Christmas and one again as a birthday present for my niece in February:
Anywho, this led to the next Big Project To Be Tackled, a real-live skirt! (Also known as an apron, completed.) Leslie had chosen a cute pattern and had already made the skirt once before I headed to her apartment one rainy Saturday in March. This proved handy for me, because I can't read a pattern. (Oops...)
This particular project took me hours to complete. It was frustrating, and there was a lot of stitching followed by unstitching followed by re-stitching. Also, the waistband is permanently sewn on upside-down and the zipper is crooked. Also, Leslie's cat kept trying to investigate by way of jumping up onto the table.
BUT. The finished product (if you don't know about the waistband or zipper issues) is freakin' CUTE. And I get compliments when I wear it before people know that I made it, which is cool. And! It has pockets! I made pockets!
I'm going to re-attempt this skirt before moving on to other, Even Bigger projects. I have some old shirts with cuteness on them that I want to incorporate somehow. And I like that the pattern casual enough to wear on weekends but also dressy enough to wear around my office. You can never have too many of those in your wardrobe.
This progress report is provided by my crafty friend Leslie, who is a very driven crafter. She's made jewelry, decoupage boxes, knit things and more (and done it well, I might add). Most importantly she
I made it reversible, to double as a cape! |
This particular project took me hours to complete. It was frustrating, and there was a lot of stitching followed by unstitching followed by re-stitching. Also, the waistband is permanently sewn on upside-down and the zipper is crooked. Also, Leslie's cat kept trying to investigate by way of jumping up onto the table.
BUT. The finished product (if you don't know about the waistband or zipper issues) is freakin' CUTE. And I get compliments when I wear it before people know that I made it, which is cool. And! It has pockets! I made pockets!
I'm going to re-attempt this skirt before moving on to other, Even Bigger projects. I have some old shirts with cuteness on them that I want to incorporate somehow. And I like that the pattern casual enough to wear on weekends but also dressy enough to wear around my office. You can never have too many of those in your wardrobe.
Saturday, April 16
Alfie (1966)
(Disclaimer for the diehards: This doesn't relate to my list. But it's my blog, so the apologies stop there.)
(Disclaimer for the other, movie-loving diehards: Spolier Alert, but the movie was made 45 years ago.)
Does it mean that it's a good movie when it evokes my indignation to where I can't think in straight lines?
I just watched Alfie. (1966, not 2004)
I didn't know much about it going in except that Michael Caine would be playing a role that I hadn't seen him play before - that of a womanizing always-gets-the-girl kind of guy. I was excited for that part actually - Michael Caine has been one of my favorite actors for a while, and seeing as he started acting the same year my mother was born, I was curious to see him as young and attractive instead of older and aristocratic. And what's more, any movie made now-a-days that's advertised with a leading role as a womanizer will undoubtedly end up with that character learning his lesson and either falling in love with the woman who put him in his place or be left to wallow in his thoughts and feel bad about himself, thus giving me the moral and feminist high ground.
A learned-your-lesson-you-dirtbag kind of ending. It was supposed to be win-win.
But instead of a flirtatious yet immoral and like-able Alfie, I was smacked in the face with a verbally and emotionally abusive character. I struggle to accept that women were so submissive in that time period. But I also have to acknowledge the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that knows not only did that happen 40 years ago, it continues to happen today. Each woman desperately aches for Alfie to change and to love her, but ultimately must stand up for herself or her children/family and leave him. Not that Alfie cared one bit; he never changed.
The gut-wrenching part of the movie was in the last twenty minutes, and I think it is perhaps one of the best pro-life arguments I have ever seen in film. A woman Alfie slept with once, Lily, is pregnant and finds it necessary to have an abortion. The doctor performs what my Google research has deduced to be a third-month induction abortion (warning - link explains the process in detail) where the mother winds up having to give birth even though the pregnancy was terminated. Nothing is shown in the movie, because Alfie goes for a walk after silencing Lily's labor pains so that his landlord won't hear. Because that's the human(e) thing to do in his opinion.
When he comes back, the camera stays on Alfie's face when he sees the fetus (never actually shown). I saw every emotion (which is a reminder of Michael Caine's prowess in acting; it is dreadfully apparent in this scene). He explains the experience to a friend (after having run out, leaving Lily alone in his apartment again) and it is heartbreaking and haunting. It's as if he suddenly saw the potential for that small being and realized that he did nothing. He didn't even allow a passing thought for it or claim it as his own in front of the doctor. He felt for another human, which was more than he had done during the whole movie.
And then, after a scene which proved he learned nothing and felt little else towards any other person, it was over.
I'm not trying to provoke an argument or a battle of the comments, but I would be interested in thoughts, especially if you've seen the movie. I tend to lean "pro-life" to begin with (and reading the abortion article referenced above literally made me nauseous, emotionally and physically) ... but have recently wondered why the "pro-life" label doesn't also apply to the mother. It's her life... shouldn't she be the one to live it?
(Again, please post thoughts not arguments or antagonistic retorts. I am prepared to keep this civil.)
(Disclaimer for the other, movie-loving diehards: Spolier Alert, but the movie was made 45 years ago.)
Does it mean that it's a good movie when it evokes my indignation to where I can't think in straight lines?
I just watched Alfie. (1966, not 2004)
I didn't know much about it going in except that Michael Caine would be playing a role that I hadn't seen him play before - that of a womanizing always-gets-the-girl kind of guy. I was excited for that part actually - Michael Caine has been one of my favorite actors for a while, and seeing as he started acting the same year my mother was born, I was curious to see him as young and attractive instead of older and aristocratic. And what's more, any movie made now-a-days that's advertised with a leading role as a womanizer will undoubtedly end up with that character learning his lesson and either falling in love with the woman who put him in his place or be left to wallow in his thoughts and feel bad about himself, thus giving me the moral and feminist high ground.
A learned-your-lesson-you-dirtbag kind of ending. It was supposed to be win-win.
But instead of a flirtatious yet immoral and like-able Alfie, I was smacked in the face with a verbally and emotionally abusive character. I struggle to accept that women were so submissive in that time period. But I also have to acknowledge the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that knows not only did that happen 40 years ago, it continues to happen today. Each woman desperately aches for Alfie to change and to love her, but ultimately must stand up for herself or her children/family and leave him. Not that Alfie cared one bit; he never changed.
The gut-wrenching part of the movie was in the last twenty minutes, and I think it is perhaps one of the best pro-life arguments I have ever seen in film. A woman Alfie slept with once, Lily, is pregnant and finds it necessary to have an abortion. The doctor performs what my Google research has deduced to be a third-month induction abortion (warning - link explains the process in detail) where the mother winds up having to give birth even though the pregnancy was terminated. Nothing is shown in the movie, because Alfie goes for a walk after silencing Lily's labor pains so that his landlord won't hear. Because that's the human(e) thing to do in his opinion.
When he comes back, the camera stays on Alfie's face when he sees the fetus (never actually shown). I saw every emotion (which is a reminder of Michael Caine's prowess in acting; it is dreadfully apparent in this scene). He explains the experience to a friend (after having run out, leaving Lily alone in his apartment again) and it is heartbreaking and haunting. It's as if he suddenly saw the potential for that small being and realized that he did nothing. He didn't even allow a passing thought for it or claim it as his own in front of the doctor. He felt for another human, which was more than he had done during the whole movie.
And then, after a scene which proved he learned nothing and felt little else towards any other person, it was over.
I'm not trying to provoke an argument or a battle of the comments, but I would be interested in thoughts, especially if you've seen the movie. I tend to lean "pro-life" to begin with (and reading the abortion article referenced above literally made me nauseous, emotionally and physically) ... but have recently wondered why the "pro-life" label doesn't also apply to the mother. It's her life... shouldn't she be the one to live it?
(Again, please post thoughts not arguments or antagonistic retorts. I am prepared to keep this civil.)
Wednesday, April 13
#28 - Run in a 5k - Check!
Here I sit, having just eaten everything but the table where we sat at a mexican restaurant down on the Boulevard, about to try to convince people that I really, truly enjoy running.
Well, it IS true... (but I must also make it crystal clear: I will own you in a chip and salsa eating contest. Unless you're a professional chip and salsa eater, in which case I will certainly try to own you in a chip an salsa eating contest, but might fail.)
If you had asked me a year ago "Ellen, do you like running?" I would have replied with a throw-my-head-back belly laugh. If you had asked me that question a year ago it would have been an immediate cue that you didn't know me. Because a year ago the answer would have been, as previously mentioned, a throw-my-head-back belly laugh that implied "NNnnnnoooooooo."
But then my awesome long-lost-friend-from-hs-found-again-on-facebook Baylee hosted these Kick-Your-Booty boot camps which I attended becausewhy not wake up at 6am to torture yourself into feeling better it was time to stop being a lump. And then I mentioned that the first-ever Rock the Crossroads 5k was happening in a week and wouldn't it be fun to run in that someday? To which Baylee replied, yeah let's do it! And then I found myself running every day that week to try to not look like I was about to die after mile one.
I ran it! And walked it... and then ran it some more, finally crossing the finish line in 42:09, which was the slowest of all three people in the race named Ellen. But... the funny thing was, I wasn't dead. Which was surprising.
And after that I just kept running. Not consistently, but I've successfully completed two more races - Run for the Polar Bears (4 miles through the KC Zoo!) and The KC GroundHog Run (which takes place in storage caves in North KC - totally underground!).
I've discovered two main things from keeping up with this fitness thing:
1. I feel better when I'm active. I sleep better, I have more energy, and my mood is elevated. (hooray, endorphins!)
and
2. I need goals. If I don't have a race to keep me on the move, I lose all motivation to run. What's worse, I've realized that this applies to my everyday life more than I would like to admit. If I know I don't have guests coming over for the next two months, my dishes pile up and my mail is thrown on the floor. If all I have waiting for me in a day is a regular work day, it is mentally exhausting for me to think about getting out of bed. So this leads me to a new personal development:
Get out of bed, do your dishes, and run a few times. And do it because it's the right thing to do, not because you get a reward at the end of it!
Well, it IS true... (but I must also make it crystal clear: I will own you in a chip and salsa eating contest. Unless you're a professional chip and salsa eater, in which case I will certainly try to own you in a chip an salsa eating contest, but might fail.)
If you had asked me a year ago "Ellen, do you like running?" I would have replied with a throw-my-head-back belly laugh. If you had asked me that question a year ago it would have been an immediate cue that you didn't know me. Because a year ago the answer would have been, as previously mentioned, a throw-my-head-back belly laugh that implied "NNnnnnoooooooo."
But then my awesome long-lost-friend-from-hs-found-again-on-facebook Baylee hosted these Kick-Your-Booty boot camps which I attended because
I ran it! And walked it... and then ran it some more, finally crossing the finish line in 42:09, which was the slowest of all three people in the race named Ellen. But... the funny thing was, I wasn't dead. Which was surprising.
And after that I just kept running. Not consistently, but I've successfully completed two more races - Run for the Polar Bears (4 miles through the KC Zoo!) and The KC GroundHog Run (which takes place in storage caves in North KC - totally underground!).
I've discovered two main things from keeping up with this fitness thing:
1. I feel better when I'm active. I sleep better, I have more energy, and my mood is elevated. (hooray, endorphins!)
and
2. I need goals. If I don't have a race to keep me on the move, I lose all motivation to run. What's worse, I've realized that this applies to my everyday life more than I would like to admit. If I know I don't have guests coming over for the next two months, my dishes pile up and my mail is thrown on the floor. If all I have waiting for me in a day is a regular work day, it is mentally exhausting for me to think about getting out of bed. So this leads me to a new personal development:
Get out of bed, do your dishes, and run a few times. And do it because it's the right thing to do, not because you get a reward at the end of it!
Monday, April 4
Chiggity Check! #26 - Play in a concert band again
I'm sure by now you will have noticed that two of my items were awesomely checked off last summer.
I want to take a minute (well, two whole posts, really...) to focus on each of them and describe how both have, perhaps surprisingly, stuck with me. This post is dedicated to the highlight of my Thursday nights - the Mid America Freedom Band!
To set the scene, I knew from age 10 that I wanted to play flute (that's 14 and three-quarters years ago, for those keeping score at home). From watching my older brother play in our school's band, I figured out that a) I wanted to play that, and b) I wanted to be good at it. When it was finally my turn I immediately chose the flute. (I dabbled in French Horn territory, but that was mainly to appease my mother who was skeptical that I had chosen my path in less than 10 minutes. I tend to be indecisive...)
I sat first chair from 6th-8th grade (not that that reeeally counts for much... we had boys making cow sounds through the trumpet mouthpieces at concerts...) and then paid my dues through high school. I was the quintessential band nerd! I marched to music in department stores (much like this xkcd comic), took private lessons, went on the band bus on the band trips, and yes, went to band camp and heard all of the jokes (admitting to playing flute at band camp was different after that movie...) and LOVED every band-y part of it.
In college I switched to drums for marching band (read: there are older, college boys who think drummer girls are hot!). The trouble was, I wasn't a music major and the band ate up hours out of the week that I had to devote to other schoolwork. After 2 seasons I had to bow out.
All that was to try to explain my excitement when, last summer, a friend and I started talking about how we miss playing in a band and then wound up IN one a month later!
The MAFB is Kansas City's GLBT (+allies!) community band which happens to be made up of a very welcoming group of talented individuals who truly want to enjoy making good music together. And they are FUN - our first concert ("OUT in Space" ... get it??) we wore costumes and crazy makeup for the second half. One of the directors wore a Luke Skywalker outfit.
MAFB has helped me see how much I can grow and how much better I can be when I really work at something. Take tonight for example: instead of sitting down and watching tv while doing my laundry, I whipped out my music and actually (gasp!) practiced!
I have this sense of pride in our work. I don't want to let the group down or be the weakest link. It's powerful to me that no one has to be there, and yet everyone cares so much about the success and image of the band. The other flute player is also very good and therefore provides a mental challenge for me to improve.
So, thanks to a little number on my little list, my Thursday nights are dedicated to me actually DOING something with my time. I'm developing myself and my skills. I'm being productive!
Oh, and btw, we have a concert this Saturday!
I want to take a minute (well, two whole posts, really...) to focus on each of them and describe how both have, perhaps surprisingly, stuck with me. This post is dedicated to the highlight of my Thursday nights - the Mid America Freedom Band!
To set the scene, I knew from age 10 that I wanted to play flute (that's 14 and three-quarters years ago, for those keeping score at home). From watching my older brother play in our school's band, I figured out that a) I wanted to play that, and b) I wanted to be good at it. When it was finally my turn I immediately chose the flute. (I dabbled in French Horn territory, but that was mainly to appease my mother who was skeptical that I had chosen my path in less than 10 minutes. I tend to be indecisive...)
I sat first chair from 6th-8th grade (not that that reeeally counts for much... we had boys making cow sounds through the trumpet mouthpieces at concerts...) and then paid my dues through high school. I was the quintessential band nerd! I marched to music in department stores (much like this xkcd comic), took private lessons, went on the band bus on the band trips, and yes, went to band camp and heard all of the jokes (admitting to playing flute at band camp was different after that movie...) and LOVED every band-y part of it.
In college I switched to drums for marching band (read: there are older, college boys who think drummer girls are hot!). The trouble was, I wasn't a music major and the band ate up hours out of the week that I had to devote to other schoolwork. After 2 seasons I had to bow out.
All that was to try to explain my excitement when, last summer, a friend and I started talking about how we miss playing in a band and then wound up IN one a month later!
The MAFB is Kansas City's GLBT (+allies!) community band which happens to be made up of a very welcoming group of talented individuals who truly want to enjoy making good music together. And they are FUN - our first concert ("OUT in Space" ... get it??) we wore costumes and crazy makeup for the second half. One of the directors wore a Luke Skywalker outfit.
MAFB has helped me see how much I can grow and how much better I can be when I really work at something. Take tonight for example: instead of sitting down and watching tv while doing my laundry, I whipped out my music and actually (gasp!) practiced!
I have this sense of pride in our work. I don't want to let the group down or be the weakest link. It's powerful to me that no one has to be there, and yet everyone cares so much about the success and image of the band. The other flute player is also very good and therefore provides a mental challenge for me to improve.
So, thanks to a little number on my little list, my Thursday nights are dedicated to me actually DOING something with my time. I'm developing myself and my skills. I'm being productive!
Oh, and btw, we have a concert this Saturday!
It's gonna be a good one!
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