Blogging has been slow here at LivingSmall because I just haven’t felt like I had anything interesting to say. It’s been a weird month — I’ve been a tiny bit depressed — I have to say, I sort of thought this grief thing would get easier at some point — like after I made it through the first anniversary, or got through the holidays — but it still just sucks. And trying to write this book isn’t helping — I mean, last January was SO horrible what with the crying on the couch with the dog in my lap, and…
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When last week’s article in the Boston Globe about food blogs came out and it listed Pim’s full name, I got to wondering. So I googled her and it turns out that Pim, of Chez Pim, and I not only work for the same very large computer company, but we’re in the same division, and even in the same building (which considering there are about 45 buildings on campus, is pretty interesting). Who knew? So I emailed her, and she IM’ed me this morning, and we made plans to go out next time I’m back in town. Small small world…
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Argh — I feel like the Bad Blogger. I’ve been so consumed by the Tsunami, by the subzero weather, by a rousing game of UpWords with Maryanne last night, and by getting my New Year’s resolutions organized ( a:sitting again in the mornings, b: writing writing writing the second and third sections of the memoir and c: reading Virginia Woolf’s novels in order [as opposed to the letters and diaries which I love]), that I haven’t gotten around to blogging. As for cooking — I made a bomber bolognese sauce with hot italian sausage and ground antelope the other day…
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I know Christmas probably tapped most of us out, but really, compared to the folks in these photos we all have so much more than we need. So send money — since we’re not already in Asia, sending donations of clothing etc probably will just clog up the delivery pipelines even more — there are any number of great organizations you can send donations through. I donated to the International Red Cross because Cisco, who employs me in my day job as a tech writer, will match dollar for dollar. Check out the South-East Asia Tsunami Help Blog for links…
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Last night I was reading Tara Bray Smith’s memoir, West of Then, when I came across a familiar name in the text. It’s an unusual name, and I looked at it, and thought I wonder if that’s who I think it is? The age would be about right, and my friend also grew up in Hawaii in, shall we say, a sort of hippie household. So I called her up, and she said that yes, it was her, and that the whole thing has been really difficult for her. Smith used not only her first name in the book, but…
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I have an old friend here in town — one of those people with whom I was friends in my 20s — and well, we’ve taken very different paths as adults. Her husband works as a conservative activist for a libertarian think tank, and my friend has become increasingly involved with the conservative cause. They’re nice people, who are raising good kids. But they’re also the kind of trust-funders I grew up with, the sort who don’t question their own level of privilege, and who believe that they deserve their bigger piece of the pie. Like I said, we’ve taken…
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From Chris over at Get Your War On. Now is not the time to give up. There is real work to do, and we’re the only ones who can do it. Wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper today. I’ve never done that before, since the letters page starts to look like a tar baby from which none of us are safe, but I’ve decided it’s time to get in the game, and not just in the echo-chamber that is this blog. I tried to keep it simple, tried to point out that what this man was…
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As the Dalai Lama says. And he’s someone who knows opposition when he sees it. Did the Dalai Lama squeal about how mean the Chinese were? How they overran his country and killed his people and destroyed his cultural heritage? Nope. He spoke truth to power, while continually pointing out that “the Chinese people are good people.” Frankly, these days I’m looking to those folks who have seen real tangible serious oppression. The Dalai Lama. Nelson Mandela. Vaclav Havel. So what did I do today to make positive effort for the good? I wrote letters. Yup, boring old on-the-ground letter…
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A few years ago I was hit by a snowboarder on the first day of the season. I was standing in the lift line when a snowboarder, going too fast, caught an edge and fell. He came screaming toward me, caught me in the legs, and I caught my cheekbone on the edge of his snowboard as I fell. And the guy cursed me out. He wasn’t apologetic or anything. I came up bleeding like one can only bleed from a face wound and swinging. I was furious. I grew up fighting my brother and my seven boy cousins and…
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I remember being really little and going with my mother to vote. We went to West Park, to the skating shelter, and she wouldn’t let me come in the booth with her. She explained that voting was private, and that in America, no one could ever make you tell who you voted for. She explained that this was one of the things that made the system work. That you had the right to a secret ballot. And then she walked across the shiny wooden floor and pulled the curtain behind her, and I remember watching her legs underneath the curtain…