grate. grating. grated.

dear thumb,

why do you always ram yourself into the cheese grater? you are not cheese. you are my thumb. you'd think you'd learn after 7 years but you keep slicing yourself up - three different graters, three different thumb casualties - always when i am making lemon zest! can someone have a grater phobia?! christian, i'll need you to take care of my lemon zest needs from now on!

me

• p.s. christian doesn't think it counts as a wound. can you set him straight? i mean i know a chunk of skin isn't missing like last time... but still!
• p.p.s. i know the evidence is blurry but it's hard to take a picture of your right hand with your left using an iphone!
• p.p.p.s. i may need to delay my return to blogging as typing is a little too strenuous on my thumb.

darkness.

an aspect of the northwest i have yet to embrace is the vivid time change. we plunge into darkness during the four o'clock hour. dark commutes meet constant rain and i find myself sitting, motionless on a bridge. eight miles slowly become 60 minutes. last night i sat on that bridge, as reports poured in of a denser darkness engulfing millions of brazilians.

these past few weeks there has been darkness of a different kind. 13 dead at fort hood. rising death tolls in el salvador, vietnam and the philippines. a massively deadly car bomb in pakistan. a seattle police officer gunned down on halloween just blocks from our apartment.

last night i found myself focused on the execution of john allen muhammad. throughout the day i had constantly thought about what this partial ending to another dark episode would mean. sitting in traffic i heard his time of death pronounced. 9:11 pm eastern time. i was relieved. surprised by my relief as 23-hundred miles and seven years separated me. relieved in a bizarre way that maybe only those who lived through the dc sniper shootings of 2002 could be.

lead us from night to never ending day*

i opted out of walking the few blocks which opened up a fireworks view. instead, i sat, as the night got darker, and listened. i listened to the colorless show. the rhythms and beats as the explosions grew closer together... until, the grand finale of sound. it was different listening rather than watching. and i think i really liked it.

i love the 4th of july with all of its red, white and blueness. i am still, however, on the look out for traditions.

when i was younger i remember asking my granny all about her life growing up in the 30s and 40s. i find that era wonderful. the hair. the dresses. the music. the patriotism. the posters. the radio broadcasts. she would always remind me about the rations. the worry. the separation. the loss. the death. it wasn't glamorous, she reminded. your brother or fiance may never have come home, she'd say. but still i continued my love affair with world war II.

so this year, i made star cupcakes and we watched alfred hitchcock's 1940 film foreign correspondent. it was typical hitchcock filmography but it had an added element of eeriness since it debuted before world war II had become world war II.

during the end scene the globe reporter broadcasts to a still neutral america while the credits rolled to the star-spangled banner:

“okay, we’ll tell ‘em then. i can’t read the rest of the speech i had, ‘cause the lights have gone out, so i’ll just have to speak from the cuff. all that noise you hear isn’t static - it’s death, and its coming to london. yes, they’re coming here now. you can hear the bombs falling on the streets and on the homes. don’t tune me out now, hang on a while - this is a big story, and you’re part of it, it’s too late to do anything here now except to stand in the dark and let them come… as if the lights were all out everywhere, except in america. but keep those lights burning, cover them with steel, ring them with guns, build a canopy of battleships and bombing planes around them. hello, america, hang on to your lights: they’re the only lights left in this world!” [globe reporter: johnny jones/huntley haverstock]

the feeling at the conclusion of that black and white movie is what i imagined for my granny and my grandpa. that power which seems to be missing today - or maybe we just need to take the time to listen rather than watch the display.

*god of our fathers performed by the mormon tabernacle choir

torn.

on my 12th birthday i received my first cassette tapes. paula abdul's forever your girl and the cocktail soundtrack with kokomo.

possibly the best music video ever was paula abdul dancing with mc skat kat for opposites attract. i think i totally get that song now more than ever (well except for the part where skat kat likes to smoke, gross!).

i am rice, christian is pasta. i am third world africa and latin america; he is refined europe, but mostly rome. he is ski, i am dance. i am documentaries and npr; he is espn and sports center. i am post/folk/indie-rock; he is brit rock. he is competitive, i am not. i am basketball, he is football. i am tetris, he is mario kart. i am caution/pansy chicken, christian is adventure.

in the past 24 hours i've been torn twice.

first, the sounders fc vs. dc united game last night. i really didn't know who to cheer for. my first professional soccer game was a dc united game. but the sounders have such great uniforms. and each goal, three, elicited fireworks and sparkly confetti that flitted through the air. plus we were sitting in club seats. it doesn't get much better than that. did i mention we attended the game with the governor? well she was about 10 seats away, one row down, across the aisle... but you get the picture. at the end of the game dc was dragging it out and their goalie took his sweet time getting the ball into play. he'd alternate between adjusting his socks or his shorts. an agitated fan threw a thirst buster sized drink on him. christian thought he deserved it. guess what i thought?

second, the confederação brasileira de futebol played the u.s. national team in a confederation cup match this morning. let me tell you those brazilians have some fancy footwork. and don't even get me started on their amazing uniforms! so yes, i cheered. i cheered hard for my adopted pátria amada. i even wore the colors to prove it.

according to christian, that makes him a patriot and me a traitor. i can live with that. it ain't fiction, just a natural fact, we come together cuz opposites attract.

WA is finally for lovers!

it has been two and a half years. two and a half years of pining. pining for cherry blossoms, battlefields, monumental structures, historic soil, familiar trails, highways and bridges. it surprises me what triggers a pang of saudade.

outkast's hey ya. crab cakes. h & m. postal service's the district sleeps alone tonight. visits to ikea. newscasts. mango salsa cous cous. car dancing. walking through the sliding doors of dsw. sushi.

i intensely yearn for the unattainable. it is no surprise how completely and successfully i block out the bad as i embellish my life in the district. the humidity suddenly less oppressive. the beltway gridlock forgotten. the unnecessary heartaches buried.

just as hard as i fell for dc, i became enamored with virginia. i still miss my commonwealth license plate along with my potomac river and shenandoah valley. i even miss my red chair. my $10 red chair from craigslist that katharine and i drove so far to get. who misses a $10 red chair?

there i lived next to water and crossed over water. here, i am surrounded by even more water. i cross a bridge daily. but it is different. and, in small moments, i still pine.

today i fell in love with arlington all over again. first i watched this rap* (thank you kate!) later in the day, i was reunited with grease soaked brown sacks spilling salty fries of perfection. my first trip to 5 guys, i was accompanied by a senator's son. here i was six years later and 5 guys found me, even though i'm in the wrong washington.

christian was jealous.

about the french fries... not the senator's son.

*in case you're wondering - i worked in rosslyn, lived between courthouse and clarendon
and ate at rio grande in ballston, basically i was the original gangster.

did not our heart burn within us?

chocolate. pop. facebook. alcohol. ice cream. cake. sugar. cheetos. coke. french fries... just a few of the things my friends have given up during this time of symbolic self-denial. but lent, much like a fast, is hollow without prayer, penitence and almsgiving. i admit i started this journey mostly to see what my life would be like without pop - but i quickly made the sacred correlation of exactly what this sacrifice, no matter how small, truly signified.

it was my humanly imperfect way of walking in His steps, if but for this brief time.

i was surprised to have friends checking in daily to see how i was doing. i was more surprised by others who told me they only lasted a few days attempting similar pursuits. is that all He is worth to me? a few days? when viewing my abstienence in that light, i felt power despite the triviality of it. i felt if i was choosing to give something up for Jesus, then i could do it for as long as necessary. He would carry me. He would shoulder my burden. He would strengthen my weakness.

quite a lesson to learn from soda.

yo homes, smell you later!

easter is my favorite holiday.

as a christian, i love its symbols, i love its hope, i love its power. don't get me wrong, i also love the colors, the eggs, the chocolates and the animals but sometimes i wish i belonged to a denomination which observed ash wednesday, lent and holy week. i still am maneuvering my way to carve out new "family traditions" and i want to make the weeks leading up to easter more meaningful.

on my way to work i passed st. luke's lutheran church. i always try to read the marquee and today it spoke of lent, of self-denial, of sacrifice. so, office friend laura and i decided we'd share our last coke before we kicked pop to the curb during lent.

as you can see, we took our decision very seriously.

Laura thought it would be helpful if others knew of our pledge so she solicited support:

In the spirit of Lent, Robin and I have decided to give up Coke (A-Cola that is). For the next 40 days (starting tomorrow) we are requesting your support on our spiritual journey. If we are at lunch together or anywhere there might be temptation, please remind us sweetly of our commitment. Thank you for your time, support and energy. Peace be with you.

we're already off to a good start. our co-worker fianna decided to join us in her quest to give up crunchy, cheesy goodness:

chili-dance

we have returned from the annual chili cook off.

crock pots swimming with chili and enough pies to make the judges' stomachs ache. this year some new items were added to the evening's entertainment. live music and line dancing (although not at the same time).

the line dance instructor took the floor and we headed up front to show our enthusiastic support. a few moms with toddlers in hand lined up as well as several uncertain participants. after she showed us the first eight counts i turned to christian, "this is the electric slide!" i said. "it is?" he said. obviously stake dances don't rank as high on his teenage resume. i thought that it couldn't just be the electric slide. i mean, that's not really line dancing, is it? but after a grapevine tap to the right and left, four walks back followed.

at one point christian raised his hand, "am i allowed to clap?" he asked. "no" she said, "there's another dancing coming up where you can clap." anticipation mounted! when we were finally ready to add music we all busted a move to "it's electric!" it definitely was a blast back to 1994. contrary to instruction, christian threw in quite a few claps, both on beat and off.

our bowls of chili were calling to us so we snuck off the dance floor but no sooner had we sat down then we heard, "christian!" the dance instructor was yelling into her microphone, "now you can clap!" we ran back out and did a semi-macarena before calling it quits.

my advice to you, if you are ever feeling down, just go bust a move at a chili dance. you'll be glad you did when 12 and 14 year olds tell you what smooth moves you have!

heavy things.

about a month ago i walked into something very familiar. the intensity of phones ringing. people frantically talking and typing. televisions blaring from every desk. obscenity laced rants. i was immersed back into television news discussing blocks, leads, packages, live shots... but it was not a welcome return.

in a mere hour and a half my heart finally made a decision my mind had been dragging its feet on for two years now.

i walked away a little stunned - and over the next week i felt true grief. i felt as if i were mourning the loss of something close to me. something living. something, i would never recover. doing probably the only thing he could, christian just let me cry. i cried for the loss of a dream. i ached over past decisions which had closed seattle's doors to my dream. slowly i came out of my despair, realizing if i were to go back to fall 2006 i would still marry christian, knowing what that would mean.

that grief and mourning process i went through seems almost trivial when compared to the awful rawness of this past week. the beehive i referred to in kindred spirits lost one of her little twin brothers suddenly. thursday, hundreds gathered to say goodbye, but his funeral was unlike any i have ever attended. it was light and love and goodness and peace. it was a celebration. i sobbed while his fifth grade class sang their hearts out as their music teacher danced and played guitar. his sister's pure voice rang out. his cousins sang. the congregation joined in on let it be... times of trouble... hour of darkness... broken hearted people... there is still a light.

it was beautifully tragic - and yet it was a joyous testament to our divinity, to the reality that her family will once again be whole, that our heavy things, no matter how small, can be turned to the Lord and we can be comforted, lifted and rescued.

--you must tell it, umfundisi. is it heavy?
--it is very heavy, umnumzana. it is the heaviest thing of all my years.
cry, the beloved country; alan paton

kindred spirits.

"when marilla and anne went home diana went with them as far as the log bridge. the two little girls walked with their arms about each other. at the brook they parted with many promises to spend the next afternoon together. "well, did you find diana a kindred spirit?" asked marilla as they went up through the garden of green gables. "oh yes," sighed anne, blissfully unconscious of any sarcasm on marilla's part. "oh marilla, i'm the happiest girl on prince edward island this very moment..." (Anne of Green Gables; L.M. Montgomery)

i seem to find kindred spirits on paper. whether fictional or real i dive into their life, their story, their struggle. i am consumed by words. my earliest kindred spirit would have to be bridge to terabithia. we were reading it popcorn style in my 5th grade class. i read ahead the night before until i stumbled, and then crashed into the words "your girlfriend's dead." i stopped, shaken. i cried. i cried hard. hard as if i had been jess. i cried in a plane over peru as i read walk 2 moons. i sobbed on my front porch in college during the poisonwood bible. but i haven't just been in the depths of despair, i've laughed out loud, underlined sections or counted down the days until the next book is released in a series and then when it is, i swallow it whole. i swallow it so quickly i instantly regret that it is over.

this week i finished my 25 cent yard sale copy of malcom x. i finished malcom x but really i just started - muhammad ali, betty shabbaz and growing up x are all on their way. like so many others, malcolm, reached out from the yellowing pages and shook me. he shook me in a way that made me long to meet him, along with all the other kindred spirits i've seemed to have accumulated.

last night at our young women activity one of our beehives needed a ride home. on that ride, i realized she understood these paper kindred spirits that shake us. we talked of the giver trilogy, madeline l'engle, stargirl, flipped - she shared some of her loves and i shared mine. somehow, in that short ride, the gap over our 19 year age difference was filled.

{spoiler} we are not high rollers

when you get married four days after christmas your anniversary is forever cemented to christmas. last year we were visiting family and felt like it would have been rude to have celebrated. so we didn't. we kept promising to throughout 2008 but we didn't. we learned from our mistake and even though we were visiting family again, we snuck away for a night to celebrate our second anniversary (much to the dismay of my little sister).

we booked a fancy resort in scottsdale and my dad booked us an even fancier car. for some reason i thought we were going to gainey ranch, which i knew well. we were actually headed to mccormick ranch - which easily dazzled us! christian drooled over the golf course and flat screen tv. the room was amazing. we had planned to eat our take out dinners and began searching for a microwave... we quickly realized that fancy hotels, while offering in room mini fridges, do not include microwaves in their detail.

with no other alternatives we ate our cold steaks... with our hands as we watched the sound of music. to redeem our ghetto-ness i took christian for a drive through old town scottsdale and then we shared a banana split at the sugar bowl.

in the morning we were true hoighty-toighties, checking out raquets to play tennis in our pajamas. and by play, i mean, i blasted at least three balls over the fence. we ended our stay with a dip in the heated pool. i think our third year of marriage can only get better... right? i mean, at least we have a microwave!!

we are in a recession

when you are in a recession you give neighbors homemade . you don't go shopping on black friday. you also convince your families to draw names so you only have to buy 4 presents (, , ... well actually 3 because convinces you to not buy him something) instead of 18, even though you still end up buying presents for and making it a total of 6 presents because you couldn't resist! you also decide you are just getting little presents for , as in less than $10 little presents, like and and that's it. and you know, it is almost sweeter that way. so, for those of you who weren't able to make it on our this christmas card season... feast your on it:

Robin and Christian are coming up on their two year anniversary and so far it’s been a party (noun). In case you want to know their intimate details, yes, Christian still sleepwalks (verb, plural) and no there are no babies (noun plural) on the way. Avoiding Seattle’s political climate, they spent their 4th of July (holiday) in Victoria, Canada, barely (adverb) missing the Canada Day fireworks (noun, plural). Christian reluctantly (adjective) went along with Robin’s not-so-romantic-after-the-fact-25-mile-bike-ride to Butchart Gardens. Other stops in 2008 included Utah (state), Arizona (state), California (state) and Baltimore (city). They also made it to Bavaria this year (see enclosed photographic proof) and bought their very first nutcracker (noun).

Robin continues to fight crime alongside the Dark Knight (male super hero), ur, fight heart disease at a Seattle-based non-profit. She also seems to have a part time, non paying job called church (noun). After a year at Microsoft’s Game Studios working out licensing for XBOX games, Christian’s contract came to a screeching (adjective) halt, much like the economy. He claims he is enjoying his “retirement” but Robin thinks you should hook him up with a job if you need a lawyer (profession). Robin also says interested parties should preferably reside in Washington D.C. (city) or San Diego (city). Or maybe you can just help them turn Christian’s blog into a money-maker (noun). Happy New Year (holiday)!

snow on snow, snow on snow.

when i was little we had to memorize things. my first memorization came at three when i was assigned to speak in church. my parents rehearsed with me for countless hours and the product was a little person at a little podium without parental whispers aiding her. we also memorized poems. poems like invictus were taped to our bathroom mirror. along with the memorizing came the amateur performing. the 3rd grade talent show illicited a terrific rendition of sick by shel silverstein. i wore my pajamas and had ratty bed head and everything. i soon moved on to original work submitted by my parents - the main piece being a spoof on mary eating her little lamb - "she got so big she filled the earth and changed circumference to girth!" obviously my parents proved to be fantastic speech writers for my growing student council career. in one christmas skit my brothers, sister and i recited christina rossetti's the caterpillar.

(l-r: asia (5), leiland (9), james (12), robin (16). center: stage mom)

too bad reality tv didn't hit until 10 years later. our stage mom could have really taken us places!!

well tonight i am reminded of something more eloquent by ms. rossetti. her christmas carol in the bleak midwinter.

in the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago. our god, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain; heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign; in the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed the lord god incarnate, jesus christ. enough for him, whom cherubim worship night and day a breast full of milk and a manger full of hay. enough for him, whom angels fall down before, the ox and ass and camel which adore. angels and archangels may have gathered there, cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; but his mother only, in her maiden bliss, worshipped the beloved with a kiss. what can i give him, poor as i am? if i were a shepherd i would bring a lamb, if i were a wise man i would do my part, yet what can i give Him - give him my heart. (in the bleak midwinter; christina rossetti)

we (as in seattle) have been snowed in. we. have. been. snowed. in. for. days. i haven't been to work since last monday. we've only left our house so christian could ski down our street and go buy me coke. church was canceled. our car is buried. it was fun and exciting the first day. okay maybe the second day too. but now i'm realizing that i need better hobbies. better hobbies and lots of prayers. our flight to arizona leaves tuesday. dozens of flights were canceled today due to lack of deicer at the ariport. the snow isn't letting up anytime soon. i told my family to pray that we make it and 14-year old rachel answered the call:

me: it's snowing again! the snow is so deep. you could make a snowman or a snow angel or a snow ball!
rachel: HOLY CRAP. in YW i prayed for your snow to stop the day you guys are coming

me: you prayed in young women? out loud?

rachel: yes. the opening prayer..me: that is so funny!
rachel: i got your guys' backs!me: so you said, "please make it stop snowing in seattle?"rachel: yeah i was all like (real fast) "anyone who is stuck inside their house in seattle can you please help them make it to the airport in time?" after i was done everyone said, "sounds like someone's stuck in seattle"so we were learning about how to love yourself and be dependable at church. the teacher explained what to do like a million times and then mel leaned over and was like what are we supposed to do?
me: ha ha
rachel: i was like, i guess people can't depend on you for your hearing

me: OH SNAP!

rachel: hahah

maybe i should get someone else to start praying!

in case of emergency, have coke on hand.

seattle is surprisingly ill-equipped when it comes to snow. december 2006 after christian finished his finals i flew in for a week to buy furniture and help move in to our new apartment. our move-in date coincided with a major black out. added to the fact that in the winter it gets dark at 3pm, we weren't able to get that much done. a month later an ice storm hit and we would run to the window every time we heard a car unsuccessfully trying to make its way up our hill. christian's school shut down. my eight plus years experience in two snow cities gave me hope. salt* trucks and plows will come. salt trucks and plows will come. salt trucks and plows did not come. instead the city placed a sandwich board at the top of our hill. snow closure, it read. that was it. no reinforcements.

we had to wait for the thaw.

so this week, two years later, as every school in the city and surrounding area reported, not just delayed starts but closures, we thought the storm of all storms was hitting. everyone eagerly stayed home, paralyzed at the thought of snow, anxiously watching the skies. nothing. came. not even a drop of rain. it actually warmed up and the sun peaked out. friends from salt lake, idaho, chicago and alaska scoffed.

but this morning, yesterday's storm hit in all her glory. we awoke to giant, lazy snowflakes that darkened the sky and heavily dropped late into the afternoon. our view was transformed. the cars buried, streets hidden and the neighborhood seemed vacant. christian decided to take advantage of the biggest storm since 1990. as we headed outside it seemed people were friendlier. neighbors walking dogs, kids sledding down the sidewalk, adults throwing snowballs, and christian skiing down denny way.

don't get me wrong, i am not a snow person. i come from the desert and long for the desert. however, there was something magical. there was almost a silence as if a city was sleeping. i felt like i had walked through the back of a wardrobe into an enchanted land... the charm quickly wore off when i realized i couldn't feel my toes or fingers. this must be the early stages of frost bite. and to think, i would be trapped in my apartment, watching felicity season three, making macaroni and cheese from scratch, playing tetris party and not one pop to be found!! next time we will be better prepared.

*while salting seems normal to me after a gazillion 4am live shots about how many trucks of salt mdot and vdot have standing by... apparently here, that is blaspheme. seattle sands. and only very sparingly i might add.

our souls for service yearn, our duty clear

last sunday i asked my girls what news stories their friends and parents are discussing - the economy. the presidential election. the bombings in mumbai. gang wars - i expected these answers. i helped them realize how using our time wisely and preparation, both physical and spiritual, can help us overcome fear. a list of names was behind me on the board: gandhi, the brother of jared, noah, neil armstrong, orville & wilbur wright, rosa parks, moses, nelson mandela, martin luther, john the baptist, susan b. anthony, jesus, helen keller, jackie robinson, jane austen, joseph smith, the founding fathers, beethoven, captain moroni, albert einstein, the pilgrims, mother teresa, michelangelo.

at the end of the lesson i brought their attention to this list. some took issue with the wright brothers sharing the same space as the likes of nelson mandela. others - saw what linked them all. they were all examples. when the time came, they all paved a way for something bigger, greater. some magnified their talents. others were righteous servants of the lord. essentially their souls yearned for service and their duty was clear. the discussion brought to mind a hymn we recently sang in church. a hymn i was less familiar with but felt a strong connection to:

thy spirit, Lord, has stirred our souls, and by its inward shining glow we see anew our sacred goals and feel thy nearness here below. no burning bush near sinai could show thy presence, lord, more nigh. “did not our hearts within us burn?” we know the Spirit’s fire is here. it makes our souls for service yearn; it makes the path of duty clear. Lord, may it prompt us, day by day, in all we do, in all we say. (text: frank iemke kooyman. thy spirit, lord, has stirred our souls)

this hymn is considered a closing prayer, a perfect "amen" to a spiritual meeting where we are acknowledging hearts truly have been touched and eyes opened. the congregation renews their commitment to this, the highest of spiritual goals. a spiritual experience as this song mentions is a private possession and through the words of a hymn becomes a personal testimony. two scriptural references are crucial: the burning bush and the road to emmaus - signifying that both times the Lord personally appeared and communicated directly with His followers under memorable and dramatic circumstances. in turn it is implied that we have had a comparable experience. (our latter-day hymns - the stories and the messages by karen lynn davidson)

when last did i travel along emmaus or
remove my shoes before a burning bush?

and they said one to another, did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?
luke 24:32

and they all cried with one voice, saying: yea, we believe all the words which thou hast spoken unto us; and also, we know of their surety and truth, because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil , but to do good continually.
mosiah 5:2