Wild Hat in the LoC

A while ago I was in the Library of Congress and noticed- I could hardly not notice- a woman's hat. It was sprouting flowers and sparkly things and feathers in the brightest colors, and was so completely out of place sitting on top of the short, dumpy woman in the calico house dress. I stared at her on the steps, couldn't take my eyes off her in the upstairs hall, and was surprised by her again in the special display on Native Americans. I began to think I should say something, since she must have noticed me staring. But, what?

I went to use the restroom, and when I came out of the stall, there she was, horrific hat and all, washing her hands. I decided I would speak to her. I couldn't say I liked her hat- that would be too blatant a lie. I decided on, "Your hat is so interesting!" Which was very, very true. But, as I opened my mouth to speak...

She bent over and pulled from her bra two large, hard-back books! My jaw hit the sink and I stared at her. How was that possible? She rearranged herself, tucked the books back in, and walked out of the bathroom, all while I stared, the hat all but forgotten.

I saw her again, as I was leaving the library. She was going through security just before me. She opened her bag and the security officer poked his stick around looking for stolen books, nodded his approval, and she walked out the door, wild hat, books in her bra, and all. I wanted to say, "Um, sir? I think there is somewhere else you should check!" But I didn't.

I ask. What would you do?

Dizzy

My toes

Turning on the grass

My dress

Rippling, floating

My arms

Stretching out, palms up

My hair

Flying in the wind

I look toward

My fingers

Reaching toward the sky

Where the birds fly

Into the clouds that spin

Against the blueness that blurs

And the stars that shine

And the night that falls

Like moonbeams

Onto my skin

As I tumble

Into the grass

That might be the sky

And try to remember

Which way is up

Taylor Swift, Dr. Laura and My Life

I went to the Taylor Swift concert with Bethany last month and had a ton of fun!  We jumped up and down and sang all the songs along with Taylor Swift, and bought concert t-shirts, and went home totally exhausted and happy.  We brought several friends with us, and Josh took a date- but didn't get to sit by us because we had tickets in different sections.  All in all, a great evening!

While I was there, I was looking around at the other concert-goers and was amazed at the ages represented.  There were 2-year-olds in cowboy boots and sun dresses with their moms.  There were teens and pre-teens, and college students, and 40-somethings, and even a few boys!  (One was wearing a t-shirt that said, "Because my girlfriend loves her!"  Haha!  Understood.)  I

 wondered, as I looked around, what it was that made so many girls, of so many ages, love taylor Swift.

And here's what I've concluded.

First:  She's just SO good!  Her songs are well written, fun to sing along with, and they cover the gamut, from "Today was a Fairy Tale" to "I'm not a princess... This ain't a fairy tale."  From "You're just another picture to burn!" to "Can he tell that I can't breathe?"  If you have a boyfriend, used to have a boyfriend, wish you had a boyfriend, or might one day grow up to have a boy friend, she has written a song about where you are.  And if your ex-boyfriend (or husband) was a jerk-- well!  She has a whole album for you.  =)

Which brings me to point #2:  She encourages girls to be girls-- and to expect boys to treat them like princesses.  She curls her hair, wears cute dresses, loves sparkly things, and announces from stage to sold-out audiences everywhere that boys "Shouldn't do bad things!"  and that if they do bad things to her, they can expect to be written up.  In a song, that is.  

She showed a mock interview in which a middle-aged woman quizzed Taylor about the way Taylor treated her ex-boyfriends.  The woman said she was concerned.  "If you are naming the guys you dated in your songs, why would any guy want to date you?"

Taylor said, "Well...If guys don't want me to write bad songs about them... they shouldn't do bad things!"  The stage lights went out and words began scribbling themselves all over the set saying, "They shouldn't do bad things.  They shouldn't do bad things.  They shouldn't..."  The crowd- of almost entirely women and girls, remember- went wild!  I wish I'd thought to look around and see what the few men were doing.  I'd love to know.  Did they jump up and down and scream, "WooHoo!"?  Or were they looking at their shoes wondering how they'd gotten themselves into this situation?  (Not you, Josh.  I don't think you were looking at your shoes.)

I know what I was thinking.  After Screaming and thinking, "YES!" and wiping my eyes, I thought, "Dr. Laura would like this girl!"

An odd thing to think in the middle of a Taylor Swift concert?  Maybe.  But maybe not.  

I've been reading 10 Stupid things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives, by Dr. Laura Schlessinger, and thinking a lot about it.  Yes, she can be offensive on the radio, and no I don't listen to her regularly.  I don't listen to the radio at all, actually.  But I have heard her from time to time, and I agree with what you're thinking.  She should get some tact.  But I also agree with what she's thinking.  And saying.  Almost 100% of the time.

She has several points in the book- but many of them can be summed up in this statement:  Girls, get a life!  

She believes that if girls (or women) set goals for themselves and work toward achieving them, they will see that they are actually, in Taylor Swifts words, princesses.  And that they deserve to be treated as such.  Then they will stand up to the men in their lives and insist that they "shouldn't do bad things!"  She suggests that, instead of waiting to be chosen by a boy, girls go out and do the choosing themselves.  What a novel concept!  

I thought a lot about this.  From the time girls are small we are told to wait for boys to choose us.  The very fact that Sadie Hawkins dances exist, and that they announce "This next song is girl's choice" means that the rest of the time we are supposed to stand on the side and hope we are-- what?  Cute enough?  Smiling at the right moment?  Dressed right?  So that a boy will choose us.  We are not supposed to ask the guy out on a date.  Or even call him!  That would be too forward.  And have you ever heard of a girl proposing to a guy?  I haven't.  And I bet if you have it stuck out in your memory because of how totally unusual it is!

What does all of this say about girls?  To be honest, I don't have the answer to that.  But I do know that I like the idea of girls being someone they, themselves, can feel good about, so that they are choosing, at the very least, to say Yes to the princes out there and No to the jerks.  and when they kiss the prince and discover he is, in fact a frog, they can dump him back in the swamp, wipe off their mouths, and say, "Yuck!  He shouldn't have done those bad things!"  And walk away.  Instead of moving into the swamp with the frog.

Rebecca  =)

who recommends Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Awake!

You'd think, after almost no sleep for a couple of days, and driving for 12 hours straight today, that I would be exhausted enough to sleep.  But no.

I lie awake in the dark hotel room, alternately closing my eyes and staring at the patterns of light made by the gaps in the curtains and wondering why my brain won't shut off.  

And then thinking, of course my brain won't shut off.  Did I really wonder that?  What a stupid question.  (sigh)  It's 12:13 am.

I turn over and try laying on the other side.  

and then turn back over.

and then stare at the ceiling some more.

and then go to the bathroom, just for something to do. 

and then lay down and close my eyes again.

and then open my eyes.  The patterns of light have not changed.  It's 1:26 am. 

Perhaps while driving all day, my brain has to keep alert about traffic and road conditions, and listen to the kids, and think about exits, and listen to the book on CD (Fablehaven, today) and try to stay awake, and perhaps with all that it does not have time to sort through all the other things going on in my life, and so, when I lay down in a dark hotel room, and there is... nothing... it can finally begin to sort through real life.  

We have a court date next week.  And another next month.  And What if Mike looses his job?  Where will  our pets live?  Where will we live?  Scenes from the past replay over and over in my mind.  a phrase here.  a snippet there.  What did that mean?  What will we do?  I try to tell my brian to do Yoga Nidra, but it keeps wandering to everything else.  I bring it back to focusing on the left side of my mouth, (yes, it's a little weird, but it usually works!) and then realize I've drifted back into life.  

Finally, I get up, undo the velcro on my laptop bag (very loud in a silent, dark hotel room with 4 kids asleep), tell Bethany to lie back down, and go sit in the bathroom, on the toilet seat lid, and turn on my laptop for the first time on this trip. 

After checking my email, posting a sleepless status on Facebook, and writing on my blog, I am out of things to do.  Perhaps I will try going back to bed.  

It is 2:10 am.

Rebecca  :0   

Preperations

Tomorrow morning we leave for Utah. 

I am not running away

Not really

or at least

Not forever

I'm just getting a break

And seeing Rachel!

And Elizabeth!

And Michael!  =)

And Grandma and Grandpa and Sadie and Polly and Dan...

=)

And I'm not being here

for February

14th

Which probably

Will make life easier

But at the same time

being gone

tastes

like

Really

Really

dark 

chocolate

Like Cinderella

I feel

like Cinderella

standing 

on the empty

ballroom floor

holding

both my slippers

and wondering 

what 

to

do

now

This was not

how the story

was 

supposed

to 

end

Pausing for Snow

I open the door

And the cat

Usually so anxious for escape

Stops

Nose in the wind

Sniffing the unfamiliar whiteness

One paw suspended

She reconsiders

 

He opens the garage

To a flurry of cold

And a gusty unexpected breath

His black shoes

Become dusted in white

He is surprised

At the deepness he sees

From here

Of drifts piled

Where the door had been

He sets down his briefcase

And fumbles

For the phone in his pocket

 

She bounces from the window

Across the room

Still in her pajamas

Collared shirt and blue slacks

Forgotten

Excitement

In every leap

She hollers

Downstairs

That the spelling test

Won’t happen

Today

 

I close the door

On chills

And shovels scraping

And squeals

About fast rides

Down steep hills

Into the empty street

 

 

 

Carefully

I make my way

Over piles

Of crumpled hats

Damp mittens

And puddles

Of melted boot tracks

To pull a blanket

Over my lap

And open my book

Almost forgotten

 

The cat is curled

Beside my feet

While the world

Pauses

For snow