Timeless Themes

SUSIE and the OTHER TRAVEL WRITERS are working at their computers. Most have on headphone. LISA enters.

LISA

I got a book in the mail. I'm really excited.

SUSIE

Oh yeah? What's the book?

LISA

It's a book of erotic photography.

SUSIE

Cool. Does it have a theme?

LISA

I don't know...boobs? 


Fin.

When You Want to Look But Can't Take Your Eyes Off the Road

We drove back from Columbus this morning. Along the way, I witnessed one of the dumbest and most endearing moments in family history. 

Dad is driving and mom is in the passenger seat, browsing Facebook on her iPhone. She sees the above picture and laughs. She hands me her phone and from the backseat, I look and laugh and hand the phone back. She wants to share it with my dad, but doesn't want him to take his eyes off the road. So she describes the photo series frame by frame. 

Imagine you're my dad: you're a 57-year old computer programer driving through central Indiana on an overcast day and you could really give a shit about viral internet photos.

"So at the top of the photo it says 'How to catch a cat.' Step one: bring a box.' Then it says 'Step 2: Wait.' So there's a box that's on the floor and there's a white cat inside it. There's also a marmalade cat on top of the box. And the white cat inside is really filling up the box because the box is small. Next scene is marmalade cat inside the box with the white cat. Then the third picture has the two cats in the box and another cat on top of it, waiting to get in. Then in the final scene, the cat that was on top of the box in now crammed into the box with the other two cats. They're all really squished in there. The third cat can't even turn around because its so full of cats and you just see his black tail hanging out. And there's a fourth cat sitting on top of the box."

Thanksgiving 2012

I don't want to jinx it, but this might have been the best Thanksgiving I've ever had. There was no bickering, no accusations, no back-biting, and best of all, no flat-out fights. Everyone helped. We ate. We cleaned up. We watched a movie.

Maybe there are other families that are always like this; mine isn't. Since I was young I have assumed the role of peace-keeper and mediator and it can be stressful to spend time together. I find myself on high alert, listening for the minute tremblings of unrest, a subtle change even the most sensitive seismograph couldn't detect. So maybe I'm blowing it out of proportion, but it just makes me so happy when everyone gets along. I mean, last night we even joked about my sister's high school rebellious streak... something that's easier for my mom and dad to stomach now that Carrie is a married, a successful lawyer at the attorney general's office, and expecting her first child.

The day had a few nice moments, like my dad and I retreating to the den for solitude and being followed soon thereafter by my sister and mom who filled the room with their chatter. My sister and I catching up on our lives while we cut vegetables for the stuffing. Or when their kitten Rosie held my hand with her paw while we watched HUGO.

But the best part was dinner.

In our family, my grandfather gave the blessing. He passed away several years ago and was a really really great man. Like strangers showed up to the funeral who he had met at the grocery store and a 5-year old neighbor boy asked us where Carl was when we returned to his home after the funeral. We lost his wife, my Babcie, earlier this year.

Both my grandparents were involved in the church. My grandfather was an organist for years. We attended an Episcopal church where my parents sang in the choir, my mom was an organist, and in middle school, I was an acolyte.  But by high school, my parents relationship with the church changed - I'm not sure what happened but some sort of internal church politics seemed to get in the way of their faith. I was 15 and could care less about waking up early to sit through a stuffy service where people sang music they would never sing at home. It stopped being a part of my life.

In college, one of my teammates reintroduced me to God. She grew up in a church where the songs of praise where sung over rock riffs and the preachers jokingly said prayers for their sport teams. The environment felt joyous and people seemed genuinely happy to be there. They weren't perfect people, but they were trying to be better. I really dug the atmosphere. I still go to church when I can drag my ass out of bed on a Sunday and I pray every night for friends and family.

Now I'm the only representative of the faith in the family. In the past few years, we've sat down to holiday meals and stared at our empty plates, wondering if anyone was going to offer a prayer like Dziadziu used to. Sometimes I'm asked to pray and sometimes we just start eating. 

Tonight, my dad asked me to give the blessing. I can't remember what I said exactly, but I made everyone hold hands and I gave thanks. It wasn't the most eloquent -in fact, I used the phrase "cooking in Carrie's womb" to describe the fetus growing inside my sister's belly- but that's the fun of leading the prayer. You get to say what you want to say. It was emotional for me and my voice quavered. 

When I finished, everyone had tears in their eyes, too. Even my dad, who doesn't get all riled up like the women-folk. We all cried for different reasons, but whatever it was, the release honored the time we have together. I'm thankful so many of us are still here to hold hands around the table.

Face Cake

All last week my friend Lisa kept promising me a cake with my face on it. Today, it arrived.

The resemblance is uncanny. I hope no one tries to eat my face thinking it's the cake. 

Dream: Dating an Infant

My ex-boyfriend walks into my house on Austin Circle. We hug. We have decided to get back together. 

My mom and dad are skeptical and grill him on whether this the right choice. My mom asks "How will you fix the problems from before?" He replies, "We'll just be better about having meetings and filing reports." I think, wow that's a terrible answer. 

Then he slowly turns into an infant.  I'm sitting in an armchair, bouncing him on my lap. I'm so happy we're back together. He's just so cute and lovable. Then the age difference sinks in and I think, "Wait a minute. I really shouldn't be dating this baby." 

[Wake up.] 

You Can Be a Pig Big, Too! Oy!

Halloween is an important day because it’s the one time of year when it’s socially appropriate to dress up as the person you dream of being. That’s why there’s a whole skank-costume industry – marketers know there’s a whole class of women who are waiting to show off their bodies with no apologies. Hey, it’s just a silly costume, right? Plus, I was drunk so it was like whatevvverrrr.

As an introvert with too much self-control, I’m naturally drawn to sexy heroines who are unapologetically impulsive.  In past years, I've been Kara "Starbuck" Thrace from Battlestar Galactica, Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, and I keep toying with the idea of being "The Bride" from Kill Bill. But that’s mostly because Uma Thurman and I are both leggy blondes with bowl cuts.

This year, however, I took a break from my femme fatal theme and went in a whole new direction. I chose the lovable sidekick to the sidekick: Pumba from the Lion King.

To illustrate the difference between my choices, I pulled a few quotes from the movies.

 * Lara Croft: Right, so... Pretty much touch anything, and you get your head chopped off.  

* Starbuck: So life's a bitch. What do you want to do, cry about it?  

* Pumba: I'm a sensitive soul though I seem thick-skinned. And it hurt that my friends never stood downwind.

That being said, Pumba is charming, positive, and always good for a laugh. I saw Lion King in 3D earlier this year and I died laughing at all of his fart jokes and grunts.

Unfortunately, they're not making Lion King costumes these days. And the ones that are still available are all Simba/Nala, the two most boring characters in the damn movie. So I was left to create my own costume. 

There were a lot of considerations to take into account but I finally decided that a Pumba hat/mask was the way to go. So I ordered a tiger foam hat as a base to build my masterpiece on. The tiger was a great choice because it has a long muzzle and high-brows.

 Once the tiger mask arrived, I cut out cardboard pieces to make the warthog snout, mis-matched ears, and some high check bones. I used the tiger’s ears, which I had torn out, to make larger eye sockets. Then I Scotch taped them into place, papier mached the entire thing, and let it dry.

After it dried, I used acrylic paint to give it Pumba’s coloring.

For tusks, I tore the horns off a Warrior Dash Viking hat I earned two years ago and never parted with. I hot glued them into place.  

 

But even with the tusks in place, the whole ensemble wasn’t working together. The acrylic paint and flat surface of the hat was so different than the bottom of my costume, a very hair bear costume.

I solved the unity problem by trimming some hair off the bear suit – the suit is VERY hairy– and hot glued it to the tusks and ears. I then used the black fur from the afore mentioned Warrior Dash hat to make Pumba’s signature mohawk.

I was very proud of the final product. Not to mention, I had a fantastic Timon by my side to complete the ensemble. This might be the most charming couples costume ever.

Writing Writing (or My Writing Bootcamp)

Henry David Thoreau, you idiot. 

I was struggling to write Getaways copy for quite some time. This was partially due to the fact that the style changed nearly every month, and often by the week for an entire year. But worse, it was that I couldn't transition and hit the reset button like my team members. There was no flow in my words. I was frustrated and ashamed that I wasn't performing as well as everyone else. 

One of our managers took me under her wing and for a half-hour each day for one week, we met to discuss my writing.  Along with my daily sessions, I started transcribing live copy from the site to get a feel for the current language, style, and organization. Within just a few days, it started to get easier. I even earned compliments from our editors!

As an employee wishing to keep their job and an artist, I was ecstatic. I felt a huge transformation; I was reconnected with my brain again. 

The feedback sessions were incredibly valuable, but I attribute the brain surge to rewriting the copy on the site. Because when you're engaging with words like that, you get the feel of them coming out of your mind. It tricks your brain into thinking you're creating, even when you're regurgitating. So the question is - if you exercise your brain through this artificial "creation" process , will it eventually do it better when left to its own devices? 

Having read The Brain That Changes Itself, I'm lead to say yes, but I'm putting it to the test. I've dedicated a little time the past few nights to writing writing. Right now I'm working from Henry David Thoreau, the famed naturalist writer. I bought a copy of Walden last year and regrettably, could never get through more than a few pages of it. It's incredibly rich in detail and elicits fully formed, 3D impressions that are beautifully written. But when it comes down to it, it's hard to focus on because...well nothing happens. (Cut to me washed in the TV's glow while on-screen actors make-out while shooting machine guns.)  

This was tonight's passage. I wrote this by hand three times:

The wasps came by the thousands to my lodge in October, as to winter quarters, and settled on my windows within and on the walls overhead, sometimes deterring visitors from entering. Each morning, when they were numbed with cold, I swept some of them out, but I did not trouble myself to get rid of them; I even felt complimented by their regarding my house as a desirable shelter. They never molested me seriously, though they bedded with me; and they gradually disappeared, into what crevices I do not know, avoiding winter and unspeakable cold. 

Once I finished my transcriptions, I made a list of the words I'm not used to seeing. They're a part of my vocabulary, of course, but they're not something that's overly familiar in everyday speech or writing. But they could be. They belong. 

Word list: wasps, quarters, settled, deterring, numbed, swept, shelter, molested, bedded, gradual, crevice, and unspeakable. 

I'm aiming to pick a different author each week and hopefully 3-5 times that week, sit down and let their words play around my head. If I'm lucky, they'll stick and help me become a better writer.

**SPOILER ALERT: I've got a short story dropping next week AND I'm working on a project that comes in not one, two, or four or five parts... but three, count 'em, three parts. Keep clicking, my friends!**

Birthday!

My friend Lisa came into work today and said loudly, "Happy Birthday, Susie!" This started a cascade of my co-workers exclaiming "It's your birthday? Happy birthday!" Then I said "Yeah! Everyone clap!" And they did. It was the best.

Groupon Stock Photography, Part 2

I'm in another Groupon! 

Other things you could sell with this photo:

• Subscription to a Russian Bride-a-Month
• Bartending flair class
• Gymnastics apparel
• Group tango lessons 

Mentor/Mentee

A few weeks ago I signed up to be a mentor to a high school student from Chicago Tech Academy. The purpose of the year-long program is to connect high school juniors and seniors with professionals who can guide them on their paths to college or careers. 

Today I met my girl and we totally hit it off. The program leaders provided us with some "get to know you" questions, including "If you could live anywhere, where would you want to live?", "If you could have any one super power, what would it be and why?" and "If you had to lose one arm or one leg, which would you choose?"

Conversation flowed naturally and we found we have a lot in common. We both like blue and green. We would both move to California. We're interested in writing and acting and are terrible at math. And we know all the words to the "Just keep swimming" song Dorie sings in Finding Nemo.

The highlight for me was when we left school and were walking toward the bus stop. She told me how she joined the after-school robotics club because they have the best snacks. We joked around about how one day she'd win the Noble Prize and when people asked her how she got interested in engineering, she'd say, "Little Debbie honey buns."

I was really worried I'd get a dud of a kid, like just not interested in me or any advice I might give. But she was so lively, confident, and interesting. I really hit the jackpot.