3 Things That Cause Disproportionate PAIN

I'm preparing for childbirth again and I'm uncomfortable well, most of the time. The pain of childbirth is talked about all the time, but it's gotten me thinking about things that are teeny tiny that cause unexpected amounts of pain or annoyance.

1. Finger wounds (and stubbed toes)
A nick from extra sharp knives, slamming a knuckle in a door, a hammer on the nail bed, being smacked by something heavy that your two-year-old threw at you (angry face emoji), paper cuts (oh dreaded paper cuts). All such small injuries, all such infinite pain. And why do they take so freaking long to heal??

2. Voice activated customer service
Not physical pain, but I can't count how many times I've hung up on a robot (screaming AAARRRGHHHH and throwing my phone across the room). Usually it starts with a calm, collected request for "Customer Service" or "Operator." When repeated pleas are either not heard or receive a perky "I'm sorry, I'm still not understanding, did you want to talk to billing?" my voice gets louder, more terse, and more impatient. 

3. Cold/canker sores
I was teaching a lesson to my Young Women's class a while back and recounted this one month in college that I remember still so viscerally. I was working the early AM shift so I was getting no sleep, I didn't love my classes, I was probably going to break up with my boyfriend (not that we were fighting, turns out we just didn't like each other that much), and to top it off: I had a canker sore that just about made me want to die. Of all the awful things that could have happened to me in college, the pain I remember most strongly is that of the canker sore. It pushed me over the edge of misery.

I've never been prone to cold sores (thank heaven), but I've had plenty of canker sores. As it seems, they are just tiny little bumps inside your lip. But don't be fooled, they make life hell.

Top Three Reads of 2017

I came across some excellent books this past year. Top three:

1. We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joyce Fowler

This I picked at random from the Overdrive app through my library. It was available, I don't think I read the summary, and it ended up on my Kindle. I hate to give too much away because I enjoyed SO MUCH some surprising elements of the story that most summaries I've read give away.

Basically it's about a woman reflecting on her childhood (I thought it was a memoir until I read more about the novel afterward). She has a dysfunctional relationship with her family, two long-lost siblings she reunites with to different degrees. One review called her a "breathtakingly droll 22-year-old narrator" which I kind of love. As a narrator, Rosemary does an excellent job portraying the holes in our memories of childhood we piece together in adulthood, and how our personal identities and self-perception are shaped in families.

2. Gut: The Inside Story of our Most Underrated Organ by Giulia Enders

My digestive system has always basically sucked and, allergists/gastroenterologists/doctors be damned, no one seems to know why. SO I've taken to reading a lot of these public-accessible sciency books about the digestive system. Gut is my favorite so far. It's not trying too hard to be entertaining, is actually backed up by science, and is still accessible as a non-physician.

Favorite sections were on the Gut Brain (especially as it relates to emotions) and the world of probiotics (I am SOLD).

3. Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rivka Brunt

I picked this up from a Little Free Library in town (a favorite way to find random books). After reading the first page I said - out loud, to myself - "I am going to like this book." The voice is so strong and the setting so unique, I could tell immediately it would be enjoyable to read. I didn't expect to spend so much time thinking about the characters and their situation during and after reading it.

The story follows June, a teenaged misfit whose best friend in the whole world is her uncle Finn. When her uncle dies of AIDS (in the 80's, in New York), she is befriended by his partner Toby (whom she'd never known about when Finn was alive). June's character feels very real and, perhaps because I was an oblivious teenage girl (not quite as emo as June, but still very much in my own world), I identified with her coming to understand her uncle's life. I've heard plenty of stories of the AIDS epidemic in the 80's, especially from a public health perspective, but never anything as personal. Even though the AIDS crisis was in the background of most of the story, it felt very real.

2018 has so far left me in a reading rut (I've started at least 8 books and haven't gotten more than a chapter or two in any of them), but I'm hopeful excellent reads will show up.

3 Things on Longing

On longing

This is the kind of post that I'd likely read and roll my eyes at, but it's been on my mind a lot- what moves me. What I long for. What stirs my soul.

On a recent long car ride to the Washington Coast, I thought

1. Adventure in the great wide somewhere

Last month I went to visit my sister and while there we took her four girls to see the new live action Beauty and the Beast. It was Jamie's first time in a movie theater. It did not go well for him (thanks to a giant bag of popcorn he lasted until the beginning of Be Our Guest), I did get to fully enjoy my favorite song in all of Beauty of the Beast, the opening number, Little Town. Even better, actually, is the reprise, where Belle, disgusted and mystified at Gaston’s advances, escapes to a beautiful mountain meadow and sings about what she really wants out of life:

I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell.

The moment is beautiful and moving even as an adult and I was surprised at how overcome with emotion it made me. I remember having a similar reaction as a little girl when watching the scene and it hasn't gone away.

I never had a Gaston or provincial life, but there's something stirring about Belle’s throwing her hands out to the universe telling it, I want you, Universe. I don't know what experiences are out there that I'm chasing, but I want them from somewhere deep inside me.

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2. Beautiful things and beautiful words

A few years ago I attended the Bellevue Arts and Crafts Fair for the first time. I went by myself, it was the middle of summer. Some 500 stalls of painters and sculptors and artisans (and popsicle sellers. It was a million degrees out) set up shop in the parking garage of the mall. The setting is nothing pretty, quiet the opposite. But I wandered around with literal pangs of, I don't know, some combination of awe and adoration and lust for all the beautiful things on display and for sale. I was overcome by a desperate, pulsing desire to fill my home and my life with beautiful things. I feel it from time to time, though I rarely seek it out. There is so much art out there I think is ugly, pretentious, or downright weird. But when it strikes, I feel it down to my sternum. The last time it struck was a drive by of this giant statue in downtown Seattle (On 9th and Mercer if you want to see it), The Meeting of the Minds (by Spanish artist Jaume Pluma). IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL. It's two people sitting cross-legged, facing each other. Their bodies are made up of letters and different language characters. If I could buy a shelf-sized version (this one is 12 ft tall) I would.

I have started being drawn to poetry, which elicits similar pangs. I think there might be even more crappy and ho-hum poetry than there is crappy visual art, if that's possible, but I'm trying to wade through it to find poets and styles that I'd exceptional.

3. Connection with the great web of humanity

My best friend/self help guru Brene Brown (she's not really, it just feels like it because I refer to her research so often) talks a lot about how human beings are hardwired for human connection. It fuels the development of civilization, from vast geopolitical happenings to interactions between neighbors and family. In adulthood I've come to realize that I am more of an introvert than anyone would have ever guessed. I always pegged myself as an extrovert -- I am comfortable in big groups, generally social, and enjoy gatherings -- but it turns out I get burnt out by all of these things. And, contrary to what many introverts will say, being an introvert isn't necessarily about hating people or being a loner, but rather being fueled my smaller, deeper connections. It's harder to seek these out, I've realized, than simply being surrounded by people. It requires being vulnerable (gulp...) and taking time to let trust accumulate (I'm all for rushing toward friendly intimacy, but apparently it doesn't work like that).

I feel this not only with people I know but, in this gigantic impossible way, with the world. I want to connect with you know, everyone. Everywhere. Simple, right?

While in New York in June, I bought this print that says

"I'm in love with cities I've never been to and people I've never met"

Yes. I am.