The Urgency of Writing

This week, I submitted the first three chapters of a novel-in-progress to my Writing Workshop. The basic structure of our workshop is that two writers submit each week.  (There are 12 of us, plus our professor, Nick.)  The other students are given a week to  read the pieces, evaluate them in terms of style, theme, characterization, narrative, cohesion, plausibility, clarity, etc etc....asking in the end, "Does this piece work?  And if not, what can the author do to "fix" it?" 

Each of us are asked to put our thoughts to paper.... writing up a response to the author (one-page minimum) that includes the good and the bad.  Responses should be well-balanced and tactful, highlighting the strengths of the piece, but focusing on potential areas of improvement. 

(In more novice workshops, people have a tendency to just blow smoke up each others bums in fear of hurting feelings or looking like an a-hole, but as I learned in my first MFA workshop this past Monday, this ain't your Grandma's Hug-and-Kiss workshop.)  And it shouldn't be! When the writers are skilled and the editing eyes are keen.... the comments are heavily constructive.  This is what I've been waiting for!  Having 12 readers/editors who are also extremely talented writers.... giving my humble novel all of their attention.  

"This is exciting!  I've been waiting so long and it's actually happening!  I'm so lucky!" I thought to myself. 

So toward the end of class, after discussing two awesome stories by my classmates Nawaaz and Tricia, I handed my piece out to each student.  I felt so proud!

"Thanks, Nania.  Looking forward to reading it!" one of my classmates said.

"Cool!  See you next week!"  I smiled. 

And then something happened.  After the last copy was handed out, my stomach got a little knotty, like I'd eaten too much chicken vindaloo (extra spicy).   

And, the back of my neck started to get a little itchy. Had I fallen to the bed-bug pandemic??  No way.  I follow Martha Stewart's "Rules for Tidy House and Home" to a T.  After walking over to the Thayer Street parking structure, where my car was parked, and giving my friend a lift home, my upset stomach started to turn into.... urgency.  (That's a medical term.  Bowel urgency.)  

I picked up my speed.  Jeepers (my 11 year-old Jeep) halted momentarily at she changed gears.  A thin veil of sweat arose on my forehead, nose, and chin.  "Oh, Dear.  Oh, Dear.  Nania, calm down.  You do not actually have to use the facilities.  You are just having anxiety."

I have some difficulty with anxiety, by the way.  Even when I was little, I'd wake up in the middle of the night to double and triple-check my assignment book, ensuring that I'd done everything I needed for school the next day.  

Anyway, all I'll say is... with the help of my trusty Jeepers, I pulled into my parking lot, parked, flew up the stairs to  my apartment, really tested the strength of the deadbolt on my front door, and..... I was right.  I didn't have to "go."  (I'm sorry if you're upset by the intimacy of these accounts.  Really.  The last thing I'd want to do on a lovely Wednesday morning is read about you feverishly racing to the can.)  But alas, perched upon the can, I thought to myself.  "That was weird."  

(Chronological bathroom narrative omitted).... and then I washed my hands.  

That night, I slept 2.5 hours.  "What the heck??  I AM EXHAUSTED.  Nania, GO TO SLEEP.  NOW.  GO! TO! SLEEP!"  (That never works, by the way.  Ordering yourself to sleep.  Take it from an insomniac.)

So, alas,  I wait until next Monday.... to be in the hot seat. To receive a flurry of responses in our intense 90-minute discussion, and to take those 12 response papers home and get cracking on revisions.  And yes, yes, I know.  I should not be so worked up.  I know I'm fit for this workshop and that I'm a good writer.  But I think the event of being a decent writer and letting other good writers read my writing for the first time... let's just say, I'm on house arrest for the week.  Because the "urgency" is too much to bear. 

-NL 

Link, Link, Link

I wanted to highlight the "Blogs I Follow" in the right-hand column of this page.  (There are three listed.  Only two are actual blogs, but all three are very important!)  

The first is a link to Notes From a Prudent Man, by Cyrus Irani.  Cyrus lives in Chicago with his lovely wife Cindy (my bff), and his blog is basically a collection of observations and insights, filtered through the lens of a very astute, funny, and of course, prudent person.  I enjoy reading it especially because Cyrus often writes about things he does with Cindy.... so I get little glimpses of what she is doing now and again.  I really enjoy updates on the things that may seem mundane to Cindy, thus she does not mention them to me over the phone.  For example, below you will see a photo of Cindy purchasing a Rotisserie chicken from Costco. 

Cyrus also reviews movies, posts pictures of things that he finds funny or meaningful that may likely go unnoticed by the average person.... and my favorite part... he tells stories.  And I love a good story.  Oh, you'd like to see a photo of Cyrus?  

I would explain this photo to you, but instead, I shall remain silent.  All I'll say is, if you're going to tune in to someone's thoughts.... shouldn't it be this guy's?

The second blog is Eliza Rose Knows.  Eliza is my friend Sarah's niece.  Eliza's father is a really amazing professional photographer (...I stalked his website one day, and was really impressed and surprised to see the extensive list of well-knowns in his portfolio!  Just to name a few.... Nelly, Sheryl Crow, Taylor Swift, Queen Latifah, Billy Idol, Pharrell, Dave Matthews, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, John Legend, and wait for it... wait for it.... SNOOP DEE-OH-Double G!  Scream!  He also has a big portfolio of people with different beards, which I believe was showcased in its own independent venue in Austin, Texas.  Really enjoyable, humorous, and beautiful photos.) Anyway, he has written a blog from his daughter Eliza's perspective that describes her daily activities and interests through amazing photos, hilarious videos, and brief musings.  The icing on the cake is that Eliza now has a super cute baby sister named Evangeline.   Below: Look at them go! 

  

Sweetness. 

The final link is to a website called, A Trade for A Trade.  The basic story here is that my new UofM writing pal, Kendra, and her husband Johnathan run an online business.  I've tried several times to explain this business to people... (as Kendra and Johnathan have very eloquently explained it to me).  But since I am largely ignorant of fair-trade and ethical goods, when I excitedly try to convey the idea behind their website to others, I end up saying jumbled stuff like, "It's a very good website!  Kendra and her husband visited many different countries that make... ethical... objects.  I mean, they actually went to different countries to make sure the products were very... fair and.... fairly made.  Wait, not "fairly-made" like, only fair quality, but fair to the person who made them, I think.  It's all very...ethical. And good.  Oh dear."  

So I'll just let the website speak for itself.  Please visit it so that I don't have to feel guilty for the verbal damage I've already done to their business.  I mean, they've worked so hard.  And...ethically!   I'll stop. 

Happy Tuesday! - NL

That Really Hurt! And It's Still Hurting!

Greetings from Washington, D.C.! I am back in our nation's capital for the wedding of two good friends: Matt & Jenny! But, since I am slotted to give a speech today... I must practice! So I will leave you now with one of my very favorite YouTube videos of super-cute British tots, Harry & Charlie. This single posting from 2007 has gotten nearly 232,000,000 hits!! (Yes, that's 232 MILLION.) And Charlie & Harry have since garnered some serious celebrity status. If you've never seen it... it is 56 seconds of pure happiness. And if you've already seen it... give it another watch!

Oh, and make sure that you keep an eye on both boys -- because they are each hilarious in their own right. Good for a laugh... and good for the soul! Enjoy! Off to rehearse some nuptial words...

-NL

Oh, The Contest-Related Excitement!!

It is now time for our Tinger's Corner Contest drawing!  Just to remind you... the winner will receive a Tinger-Related gift in the mail from "The Nan Stop," along with a whole blog post dedicated to him or her!  The post will appear within the next week or so!  The 14 entrants were all included in this drawing by becoming a Faithful Reader of this blog (See right-hand column.)  

And the contestants are:
Eunia L: Friend & Sister, Chicago, IL
Sara W: Friend and Fellow Writer, Northampton, MA
Jenny S: College Friend, Washington, D.C.
Justin J: College Friend, Bay City, MI
Lauren S: HS Friend, Chicago, IL
Aaron PD: Friend & Fiance, Washington, D.C.
Cyrus I: Friend & Best friend's Hubby, Chicago, IL
Cindy I: Best Friend, Chicago, IL
Amanda & Bobby R: College Friends, Bloomfield Hills, MI
Dana H: HS Friend, Chicago, IL
Sarah M: Grad School Friend, New Orleans, LA
Angela K: College Friend, San Francisco, CA
Lindsay M: Grad School Friend, Atlanta, GA
Alyx Voytilla's Dog, Tyla: Grad School Friend's Family Pet.  Alyx is in Fairfax, VA.  Tyla resides in New York. 


I shall now place all of your names in Tinger's blue hat:

And drumroll, please!!


(We don't have a drum at The Nan Stop, so Gordon LaChance is just hitting a wooden spoon against his head.)


Ting - Ting - Ting!


And the winner of the first Tinger's Corner Faithful Readers Contest is.....

I'm going to place some other random photos here to increase the suspense:

Here are some games I really want to buy from Borders.  (I already own Bananagrams, thanks to an excellent recommendation from my friend, Alyx.)

Here is a pic of Gustavo, the friendly Baskin Robbins employee who helped me personalize my friend Ling's housewarming cake!  

Hola, Gustavo!

Here is a Mastodon's tooth from the Royal Museum of British Columbia.  

(This explains the demise of the ever-powerful Sabertooth Tiger.)  

And finally, some lovely Fish Tacos:

I feel as though I'm forgetting something.  Oh yes!  The contest winner is:

DANA HOLCMAN!!
DANA HOLCMAN!!
DANA HOLCMAN!!
(I call that visual echoing)


(Fanfare!)
(Gordon wildly hitting head with wooden spoon!)
(Nania, Tinger, Gordon doing the wave!)
(Applause!)


Take a bow, Dana!  Your prize and post should appear within about 7 days! 


And thank you to all of our contestants!  And don't you worry... Gordon is brewing up a new contest as I type.  This one will involve reader participation!  Eee!  The excitement is overwhelming me!




-NL

Oh, Wasted Time! Sweet, Wasted Time!

I've realized over the past few weeks, that moving to a new place and learning the ropes inherently leads to wasting time.  Lots of it.  For example: going to downtown Ann Arbor to make a quick stop at my English department mailbox.  How long to you think something like that would take? Here was my initial estimate:


Drive to campus: 5 minutes
Find parking and park: 5-10 minutes
Walk to Angell Hall and take elevator to 3rd floor (English Department): 5-8 minutes
Check mailbox: 2 minutes. 


So at most, this little excursion was supposed to take me 25 minutes.  Instead, it happened like this:


Drive to campus.  Dodge a flood undergraduate pedestrians as if playing a real-life video game.  Get significantly delayed at two big downtown intersections while waiting for droves of pedestrians to cross the street.  Think to self, "Do these kids have a death wish?"  (I mean, I'm happy to stop for a pedestrian anytime!  Of course!  But when they literally step out right in front of my Jeep -- which is not a small car -- it makes me think that they got called out in class for not doing the assigned reading, or are feeling embarrassed about some poor alcohol-induced sexual decision they made the night before -- and are trying to put their misery to rest on the grill of my car.)  Actual Elapsed Time: 18 minutes


Find Parking and Park: Yes, there were several parking spots.  Yes, I tried to parallel park in them.  But yes, I have anxiety about parallel parking when I know that 30 people are watching me do so.  It's unnerving.  My judgment and depth perception go out the window.  And I am forced to look for a spot in a more unpopulated area that is at least three-times the length of my vehicle: 28 minutes. 


Walk to Angell Hall and Take Elevator to 3rd floor: As I said, parked pretty far from my intended destination.  The elevator ride went smoothly, though: 15 minutes.  


Check mailbox (and say hello to anyone I might see during my journey): 5 minutes.  


TOTAL TIME: 1 hour and 6 minutes.  To. check. my. mailbox.  And no, there was nothing that important in it. 


Example #2 of wasting sweet time: 
In my Asian studies class, the professor puts all of the required texts in the "Reserve" section of the Shapiro Undergraduate Library.  This is good for me, because I don't want to buy all of these textbooks. (Some of them are really interesting and will definitely help inform my writing -- others are way over my head and discuss topics I'm not that invested in learning about right now.)  So I get everything from the Reserves to do the class readings.  


This is how the Reserves work: You can take the books out for 4 hours at a time.  (This is because there is oftentimes only one copy available -- and other students may need it.  Sharing: important to learning.  And if students don't bring the materials back on time, there is a $1 for every 15 minutes overdue.  That adds up!) So,  if you get there and someone else has the book you need, the circulation desk can tell you exactly when it is due back -- and it is usually back at the appropriate time. What an efficient process!  I love efficiency!  So I am very fond of this system.... until I realized how it is possible for me to screw it up.  


I needed to get a book titled "One Way Or Another: Asian American Art Now."  The book had been checked out, but the friendly young librarian informs me that it will be returned in less than an hour.  40 minutes to be exact.  Nice.  I can read a book and run to the restroom -- and the book I need should be back in that time.  In a perfect world, that is how it should go.


Instead, I plop down on a cushy library chair and pull out "The Portrait of a Lady."  This is my second attempt to read this book.  No disrespect, Henry James, but this shit it BORING.  It's the only book on my required reading list that I've truly detested.  (So far, it's basically about this really bright, beautiful, high-society woman... and how too many charming, educated men are in love with her.....Zzzzzz....)  My eyelids grow heavy even while writing about it.  I know it's supposed to get better toward the middle -- but I cannot make it there!  Anyway, I start reading this book again.  And guess what happens?  Yes.  I fall asleep in the cushy chair.  Now, mind you -- I chose a chair right in front of the circulation desk so that I could keep an eye out for any of my classmates who might be returning the book.  And, I assumed that when the book arrived, the librarian would let me know. 


I slept for almost a whole hour.   I woke up.  Checked my watch.  Looked up at the circulation desk.  The librarian smiles at me warmly, as if saying, "Oh, good morning, library napper!"  


I walk up to the desk.  "Hi, I think my book should be back now."  I hand her the call number that I've scrawled onto a sheet of paper.
"Oh.  Yes."  She smiles again, this time nervously.  "Well, it was returned on time.  But, you were asleep.  I wasn't sure if I should wake you up.  And..."
I started to laugh and almost simultaneously we said, "Someone else checked it out."
"Yes" she continued.  "While you were sleeping.  But it will be back in.... 3 hours and 44 minutes." 


Oh, sweet time, wasted.  I gather my things and walk to my distantly-parked car.  I shall try again another day.  


-NL

I'm sorry, Applesauce.

The other day, a friend was checking out my Facebook profile, and asked me, Nania.  Why do you have "I'm sorry, Applesauce" written under your profile picture?  Astute question.  In answering this, I have to tell you a little bit about medical Speech-Language Pathology.  Bear with me.  It's time for some learning, folks. 


In the hospital setting, Speech Pathologists spend a large portion of their time diagnosing and treating dysphagia.  Dysphagia is any type of swallowing disorder that can occur in your mouth (oral), throat (pharyngeal), or in the tube that leads to your stomach (esophageal.)  The causes for these problems are endless.  Strokes, brain tumors, progressive neurological diseases, craniofacial disorders and surgeries, old age, even certain medications can cause dysphagia, and can result in a patient's inability to eat safely.


It's actually really sad and life-alterating, because dysphagia can very commonly lead to aspiration pneumonia -- that's when your throat fails to protect your airway from food and water -- so every time you eat and drink, a little bit of food or liquid gets down into your airway... and collects in your lungs.  (You have ALL aspirated before.  Recall anytime that you weren't paying close enough attention while eating/drinking, and something went down the wrong way.... resulting in uncontrolled, tearful coughing that is oftentimes painful.)   Now imagine if that happened with every bite/sip you took.  Next thing you know, you're coughing, running a terrible fever, and you find yourself in the doctor's office feeling weak and unable to eat.  See videofluoroscopic image below.  This is a motion x-ray study that Speech Pathologists use to diagnose dysphagia.  (The arrows show aspirated material.)

(Sometimes these patients end up NPO -- which stands for Non per oral -- where they cannot be given any food, liquid or medication through their mouth -- and they have to eat through a feeding tube which can be placed through your nose if the problem is temporary... or can be surgically inserted somewhere along your digestive tract, if the problem is expected to persist.)  


Okay, enough with the science of it.  Here's the applesauce part:


In order to diagnose dysphagia, Speech Pathologists first do a bedside feeding exam, where we give the patients various consistencies of food and water to see what elicits a gagging or choking reflex.  This is a prime indicator of dysphagia.  


Since the hospital is able to modify foods based on a patient's needs -- we give these various testing consistencies to see if there is ANYTHING that doesn't seem to be going down the wrong tube.  Thin liquids, like water, are commonly aspirated (which makes sense because swallowing is all about good timing.  And if things are not timed-well, the fastest-moving consistencies are the most likely to slip into the airway.)  The solution to this problem?  Thickened liquids and pureed foods.  See below:

Yes, friends.  Imagine getting a plate of food that looks like this.  One of the saddest interactions I had to have with patients was:


Patient: "Excuse me, Nania.  What is the beige pile?"
Nania: "Um.  Let me look at the receipt that came with your tray."
P: "Ok.  It smells like fish."
N: "Yes, I agree.  But it's actually chicken."
P: "Oh."
N: "The green is broccoli."
P: "Yeah.  I can tell by the tiny flecks."
N: "Yeah.  Um.  I've heard the mashed potatoes are good."
P: "Okay.  I'll eat those."  *Patient half-heartedly smiles.*
N: "That sounds good.  Do you need anything else?" *Smile back, trying not to show pity on my face.*
P: "No.  But thank you very much. I'm good for now."  


*sigh*


Anyway.  Back to the applesauce.  Geez.  Applesauce is one of the standard testing materials to see if a patient can tolerate a pureed diet.  And unfortunately -- some people can't even eat that.  So what happens as a result?  Coughing, choking, red-blue-faced-ness... and applesauce being expectorated, oftentimes projectile-style, from both the mouth AND the nose.  I have seen it so many times, that now -- I'm sorry, Applesauce, but I can't eat you anymore.  How dearly you were once loved by me.  


I'll try to end this quasi-despressing post on a helpful note, at least.  If you know someone who needs modified food, the best resource in the biz is the "I Can't Chew" Cookbook:

It really helps make modified foods more enjoyable -- and I wish more people who needed it knew about it.  So there you go.  Spread the word.  Available at Amazon, used, for as little as 5 bucks.  


And be sure to take care of your mouths and throats people.  If I EVER EVER EVER see you smoking, I will take the back side of your t-shirt and stick it in an industrial paper shredder.  And no, I won't unplug it until you promise to stop smoking... or until the shredder consumes your whole shirt.  Now, that is one thing that will never need pureed foods to survive. 


-NL

A Tinger of One's Own

Readers!  Hello!  And welcome to the second installment of, "Tinger's Corner: Perspectives From Down Below by a Finger-Length Toe."  


It is my distinct pleasure to announce our very first "The Nan Stop" Raffle, to celebrate hitting TEN faithful readers this week!!  (See right-hand column of 5 friendly reader photos, and 5 ghostly blank heads.)  


So what's this drawing all about?  And what are the possible winnings, you ask?  Great questions!  Please see the title of this blog entry for a clue about the prize!  (That's all I'll say about that part.)  But in addition to the mysterious Tinger prize, Nania will also dedicate an entire blog entry to you!   


All you need to do to enter is become a Faithful Reader before the morning of the drawing!  (Yes, this is a marketing ploy.  Let's just come out and say it.  But, a writer needs readership... it keeps them motivated and plucky!)  On Friday, September 24th,  Gordon LaChance and I will put all of your names into my blue hat.  (See below.)

And then... I will reach into my hat with the tip of my tinger.... and select a winner!   The announcement will be on Friday morning... and  your personalized post will appear sometime in that following week.  

Right now, the contestants are...(see photo to the left.)


Anticipated Questions:
1. How will I receive the prize?  And when?
Answer: In the mail, at no cost to you!  It will arrive approximately 7 days after the drawing.


2.  Is it edible?
Answer: I'm sorry.  No.  Next question.


3.  I see that Nania's fiance, Aaron, is one of the contestants.  Will he somehow have an advantage in this drawing?
Answer: Let's look at this the right way, folks.  Of all the contestants, Aaron likely gets the most exposure to me and thus, has no reason to want or need special consideration in this contest.  He will be given equal treatment.


4. Tinger, what is your gender?  Are you a female toe, as you are attached to a female foot?
Answer: Um.  I don't see what this has to do with the contest.  But I'm actually transgendered.  In my case, this means that most of the time, I'm female.  But when I'm in a "male" mood or want to wear a masculine hat -- I switch.  Sometimes Nania refers to me as "she" and other times "he."  The Nan Stop is a highly tolerant and open-minded place where all are welcome and should feel comfortable.  So hopefully, my transgendered revelation will promote such harmony and peace here! 


5. How do I become one of the Faithful Readers?
Answer: Now we're back on track!  Excellent question!  Let me have Gordon LaChance answer this, as it was previously addressed in his first blog:

Oh my, read-uhs!!  Gordon here!  I knew dis cawntest was right around the cor-nuh.  I'm so filled wid excitement, my yolks might burst!   To answer your excellent question about subscribin' to dis blawg: Use the "Follow" button dat has the liddle Google icon on it --- ov-uh there on da right... and your Google Pic will be featured as a "Faithful Read-uh."  You can sign up usin' your Gmail account or blawgspot account, I tink.  
Note: Nania has made the settings such that you will NOT get bombaaaded with emails from dis site... no updates on others' comments, no advertisin' from Blawgspot.... just our daily posts deliv-uhed right tuh yuh inbox!  Easy as dat!  Can't wait for da drawin'!  Good luck to you awl!  Over and out! 
-Gordon LaChance


Good luck, everyone!! Until next time!
-Tinger

Vengeance!

I'm not sure if you recall my story from last week, where I was awoken from slumber by an uninvited, unwelcome, unsavory creature.  If you'd like to read my heroic tale... click here for my September 11 post or go to the right-hand column and refer to the post entitled, "I'm Trying Very Hard To Live By Myself These Days, If You Don't Mind." 

Anyway, for those who are aware of the situation, I very ominously (and presciently!) stated in that blog entry: "This is not over.  Just me against the moth."  

Just as I suspected, this story has come to an end.  It is my rare pleasure to declare.... 

VICTORY!!! YES!!! *Flexing arm muscles, kissing each bicep, baring my teeth, as a professional wrestler might.*

Okay, so the first thing you're going to say is, "Nania, I thought you said this moth was "as big as a bat."  Please note the following things in my defense: 1.) It was the crack of dawn when this bad boy woke me up.  I was not in the most judicious state of mind.  2.)  Fear and adrenaline may have resulted in a bit of exaggeration.  3.) As he freaked out inside this plastic cup, his actual wingspan is quite large.  I said 4.5 inches before... it's more like 2 inches.  But that's still a big moth.  And I do not rescind my observations about the mass of his body.  When this guy flies up on his hind legs... he's a porker.  

Secondly, you might ask, Indiana Jones Nania, how on earth did you catch this surly beast??  The short answer is: He came to me.  It was actually kind of sad.  It was noon.  I was sitting at my desk....(which is stationed in front of a big vaulted window), writing happily and checking my email every 5 minutes as I like to do.  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye... I see a big brown spot, and it is slooowly sliding down the window.  I look up. It's the Moth.  I jump out of my seat and onto my feet.  (This time, I have pants on, so I feel much more capable of handling this confrontation.)  I went through the typical 60-second debate you usually go through when there is a bug on the window: "Is it on the inside or outside of this window?"  I look closely.  I see top of wings, not the "thorax and legs" undercarriage -- this moth is on the inside.  But the "slowly sliding down the window" part is what made me sad.  The moth looked tired.  Defeated.  Or maybe it was so obese because it's pregnant.  Whatever the case may be... this moth is definitely not as spirited as it was the other day.  *Cue violin music and feelings of sympathy.* 

While keeping one eye on the moth, I backed up slowly to my kitchen.  Then, I frantically began to search for something that could serve as a make-shift moth trap.  After considering a colander, a tea cup, and the huge box in which my toaster oven was once housed -- I decided, "These traps are all opaque. I need something transparent so I can actually see the moth.  Open cabinet.  Spot travel ice-coffee cup.  Clear, plastic, sturdy.  Nice!

I walk back over to the window.  Due to my lengthy moth-trap deliberation... the moth is, of course, gone.  But then I look down at the wheels of my filing cabinet.  There she is.  (Yes, in my mind, the moth has just made a trans-gendered leap from "he" to "she.")  I take a deep breath, walked slowly toward her, and bam!  Place coffee cup.  She flaps and flutters for about 3 seconds.... but then perches on the side of the cup and does that sliding thing again. She seems resigned to her fate.  *Cue violins*  

So although she very rudely woke me up last week while I was trying to catch some shut-eye in preparation for class... I figure, maybe she was like, "Nania!  School is starting and I can't contain my excitement!  Wake up!!"  Slap-slap-slap.  So I disposed of the moth in the most humane way I could... by using this classic maneuver: "Slide a piece of card-stock under the cup, squeal as you carry the moth-trap to the door, figure out how you will open the door since both of your hands are occupied, set the trap on your desk, open door, pick up trap, walk outside, say goodbye, and release."  

And I'm sorry about telling everyone that you're obese, Miss Moth.  When I'm having an "I Feel Fat" day, the last thing I would want is for some obnoxious blogger to take a picture of me and post it to the world-wide-web with the caption, "OH!  Guess who's looking a little porky today!!  NANIA!!!" 

-NL

You Go, Remy!

This morning, I received an email from my former co-worker and friend, Mona! (Hello, Mona! You Secret Sandwich!) It had link, with no explanation or description. I thought to myself, "Uh oh... is this a Spam email with a virus attached that has viciously bounced off of Mona's email account without her knowing??" But then I realized... it was a YouTube video and gave it a click. After I did so, to my delight I realized -- Oh, it's Remy! My favorite DC-based rapper.... no explanation needed.

But this is a blog, so I'm going to explain. Remy (Full name: Remy Munasifi) is an Arlington, Virginia local - born and raised - who writes the most observant and hilarious raps about daily living in the greater Washington D.C. area. Clever lyrics, combined with catchy music and narrative scenes, Remy has been producing his own rap videos on Youtube for nearly 4 years -- and has since become a viral video sensation -- with over 110,00 Youtube followers. He has garnered shout-outs and fueled discussions on CNN, The Washington Post, and Fox News... just to name a few. And now, he has his very own album, commissioned by Comedy Central.

If you like him, here's a link to his website: http://www.goremy.com/Site/Home.html

This one is for my D.C. readers, who, like Remy, have experienced the ups and downs of relying on the District of Columbia's Metro Transit System. Special thanks to Mona for sending it along! (xoxo, Mona! You're the best Reverend in town!)

-NL

Headline: Beautiful and Amazing Friend Marries a Prudent Man

This past July, I had the privilege of being the Maid of Honor in my very best friend Cindy's wedding. 

Because Cindy is such a big part of my life, I was going to do a blog about her.  But as I started to jot some notes on things I'd want to include, the blog entry started looking less like a testimony of our friendship, and more like an online dating profile.  (Name: Cindy, Height: 5'3, Hobbies: eating, laughing)  You get the idea. So instead, I decided to ask Cindy if it would be alright to post the Maid of Honor speech that I gave at her wedding.  Now, I know it's not polite to tell someone how much you toiled and suffered in order to prepare something for them (and I know Cindy is reading right now, so I'm basically telling her).... so all I'll say is that this one was a nail-biter.  The task of defining such a wonderful, life-changing friendship in approximately 5 minutes... quite daunting.  Along with that, I wanted to say something to Cyrus, her husband, because after years of disliking many of Cindy's past boyfriends, Cyrus was a perfect and much-welcome addition to her life.  And I wasn't sure I had ever expressed that to him.  During the three weeks preceeding the wedding, I edited this speech 8 times.  Two of those edits resulted in completely new speeches.  On the eve of the wedding, after practicing this speech over and over and over... I thought, "Well, there it is.  That's the speech my Cindy deserves."  

Good evening! About 14 years ago, Cindy and I shared a very traumatic experience.  In fact, when I think about it now, it takes me back to a really dark place.  The experience was... Driver's Ed.  It's actually a miracle Cindy and I are here today. This experience was especially traumatic for me, because although we were just learning and didn't know what the heck we were doing, the one thing Cindy was sure about, was that she wanted to drive FAST.  I, on the other hand, didn't take to Driver's Ed with the same enthusiasm Cindy did.  Now, I'm not trying to perpetuate any negative Asian stereotypes... especially not at this wedding... but I'll just say that every terrible thing you've heard about Asian drivers was 100% true about me.  I was panicky, slow, and had really remarkable on-the-spot decision making skills.

Now, there was one event from driver’s ed that really sticks with me. 

I was in the driver’s seat. Cindy was sitting behind me and I could see her little face in my rear view, ready for another low-speed fear-fest.  And basically what happened was I had pulled onto the freeway for the very first time.... and our really big, scary driving instructor started saying, "Merge!  Speed up and merge!" because we were coming up on a shoulder.  But, there was a garbage truck coming up on my right!  He was insistent that this merge was going to happen.  “Now! Now!” he yelled.  So I got really nervous, gripped the steering wheel, made this sound: eeeeeeeeh..... and then when I went to change lanes, I … I closed my eyes. 

Now I can't tell you exactly what happened next because my eyes were closed. But I know it was bad because after much commotion my teacher said this: 

"Damnit! How could you be so stupid?!" And then he pointed at me and said, "You…God! So stupid! How could you do that?" 

Granted, the guy was right.  I could've gotten us killed.  But were were kids and telling a kid that they’re stupid definitely has an effect.  It hurt my feelings. And I started to cry.  What I wanted to say was, "I'm not stupid. I’m a three-time spelling bee champion."  But instead, in true Nania form, I didn't say anything.  And then I looked back at Cindy to see if she was okay.  Cindy didn't look frightened or worried.  She looked pissed.  And kind of under her breath, but just loud enough so I could here her, she said, "She did it because she was scared.  Not stupid.  And I think we should try to make her feel better.  Not worse."  

And then she put her little hand on my shoulder.  We were 15. 

Now I'm not going to be cheesy and say that was the moment I knew Cindy was my best friend.  But it was the moment I knew I wanted to be just like her.  Because Cindy has always been a really tough person, and I'm pretty sure that she always stuck up for herself... but I am absolutely certain that she always stood up for me.

Cindy, you taught me about confidence.  About how to make decisions that felt right to me instead of in the eyes of other people.  You showed me that I was someone worth standing up for. And you taught me how to be brave when faced with challenges and tremendous loss. 

And in those moments when I just couldn’t get my act together and I couldn’t be strong… you were always right behind me.  And with you there, I’ve always felt like I could do anything.  Even drive.  You and I have lived in different cities for over 10 years now… but Cindy, I take you with me everywhere. And so today, it's my honor to stand behind you... to celebrate what a truly amazing person you are.  I couldn’t be more proud or happy for you on this day. 

*

Cyrus.  Did you guys know that Cyrus writes a blog?  Well, I read it.  It's called Notes from a Prudent Man.  I'm just gonna give you some examples of what he’s written.  He recently reviewed the 10 films that were nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars. Here’s a quick snippet from his review of the movie Precious:

"Precious – This would be the story of the guy in “The Blind Side” if he was a girl and wasn’t good at football, but was just as big."

In a later entry, he suggests different Thank You Card messages for wedding presents, such as: “Dear Milo and Lindsey, Thank you so much for the food processor and the electric kettle!  We can’t wait to exchange them for store credit.”  

Here’s another one: “We’re sorry to hear you won’t be able to make it to our wedding.  Hopefully you’ll be able to come to one of our second weddings.”

But in that same blog, while writing about wedding preparation, Cyrus discusses Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet 17.  I won’t read it, but Neruda uses darkness repeatedly as an image to describe intimate love – and oftentimes people struggle to understand it.  In his “struggle” Cyrus says “To me it seems like Neruda is trying to say that he doesn't believe in the theatrical love that people are often conditioned to expect. But he believes in love, and believes it to be a deeper connection that goes to the core of a person and cannot be explained so lightly.”

Cyrus, I’ve always thought that the person who ended up with Cindy would have to be truly unique.  And you are.  Not only because you very eloquently examined Pablo Neruda’s definition of love in the very same blog where you posted a picture of your friend sleeping on the sidewalk after your bachelor party…. but you’re uniquely smart, warm, and good-natured, you’re the type of person who reaches out to outsiders and makes them feel included and comfortable.

And I think the most unique thing about you is that you genuinely seem to like every single person you meet.  It’s actually really annoying.  But as far as my complaints about Cyrus go, that’s all I got.  And of course, you make Cindy happy and that’s what’s most important.

So right now.... I’d like to ask all of you to raise your glasses – first in congratulations to the Iranis and the Park family.  And of course, to Cindy and Cyrus on this wonderful occasion!  Cheers!

*

Love you, Cindy! - NL