Thanksgiving

I'm not road-tripping anywhere for Thanksgiving, but if I was, this would be my theme song. One of my favorites - and I just heard in O'Donnoavan's last week. I could ramble on about all the multitudes of things that I've been blessed with this year, but instead I'm just going to post this song. For some reason, it says more than my words can. In short, let's just say I'm thankful for everything.

All Hallow's Weekend

This is turning out to be the best Halloween I've had in years.

It isn't going how we were planning - we hoped to go to a club or a party with our fabulous costumes. But there aren't many exciting events on Saturday night that aren't 21+... curse our youthfulness! So [Львица] and I decided to go back to our hometown of Lakeville for the weekend and spend it with our families.

I was somewhat disappointed - just because I built up this whole fairytale idea of having a Halloween extravaganza that I realistically should have known wouldn't happen. Sometimes, being a Romantic totally blows. Especially when you're an obsessive Romantic.

Tangent time - Am I obsessive? Stupid question, coming from the girl who's blogged about Torchwood and John Barrowman more than anything else this past month. It's been on my mind a lot - yes, I've been obsessing about obsessing :P - because of a Facebook conversation I had with X:

Me: I've always had an Scotland obsession. But now it's worse. incredibly worse.

[X]: I can't imagine... especially with your talent for obsession. (You have to admit, you're good at it. ;) )

Of course, I come back with a smile and agree that I'm a pro at obsessing... but am I really THAT obsessive? I am obsessive - it's a Scorpio trait, I'm a pro at ruminating, I tend to blabber on about the same things forever. But am I EXTREMELY obsessive? Like, to the point where I can't tell if [X] means this in a jesting manner or if she's referring to how I obsessed over [No-Mr-Darcy]. And [tedesco]. And a zillion different movies and books and such. Am taking part in a normal human trait? Or going too far? Do people just humor me because they think it's cute that I fixate for one things for extended periods of time? Or are they creeped out?

I worry about this because of how I reacted Thursday night. Admittedly, I just saw Ianto die on Torchwood and was utterly devastated (yet another sign of obsession, right?) but when [Львица]'s plans changed for Halloween, I suddenly a sudden impact with reality. It wasn't [Львица]'s fault or anything; it was just that I suddenly realized that there wasn't anything for us to do, exactly, for under 21s. And that my whole building up for some sort of magical Halloween experience wasn't going to happen. And suddenly this whole spiral of worry that I hadn't been consciously thinking about unfurled. I realized that I'm spending more time thinking about fictional things than real life, that I'm stuck fantasizing about the impossible, that I have totally unrealistic expectations for love and life and shit...

Yeah, it really had nothing to do with the pre-Halloween events. It had more to do with this.

In my cultural studies class on Thursday, we were talking again about Monsieur Lefebvre's ideas of culture and his harsh critique of Surrealism. Our professor had been lecturing at us how there is a distinct difference between the wondrous and unexpected in real life and what Surrealists/ literary modernists are involved in - the magical, marvelous and bizarre. Our professor argues that the bizarre prevents us from seeing the wondrous in real life, that it does anything but look the harsh realities of everyday life in the face and instead paints it garish colors and injects it with a life it doesn't have.

There's some truth in this. I mean, some things completely obscure reality and can be dangerous, in high amounts. But I feel like many things labeled surrealist or modernist don't ignore reality - maybe they just don't want to deal with it ALL THE TIME. Maybe sometimes, a small escape isn't so bad. Not ALL the time, clearly. But can you blame me or anyone else for want to run to sci-fi or shopping or chick flicks or going out with the guys when life gets shitty? Sometimes we need to forget, for just a short period, about the parts of our lives that suck so we can see the wonderfulness of our everyday lives. I overestimate the ability for people to see the amazing-ness of everyday life, but I believe that people do see it. But sometimes you need the escape first. Of course, I'm being a total bourgeois here, but I REALLY don't want to discuss that at the moment. So I'm being an inappropriate cultural studies student here. But I'm not really trying to be a cultural studies student. So don't judge me.

Anyway, that's exactly what I did - escaped. I stopped worrying about whether or not my using Torchwood as a way to escape the monotony of this semester is ruining my perception of reality for five minutes and... used a different way of escaping. [Львица] and I went to the Mall of America on Friday afternoon for some retail therapy (yes, yes, as a cultural studies student I KNOW this is a sign of the power of consumer culture. But sometimes it really works, at least for the short term. Which, of course, is the drawback). I bought two incredibly cute dresses, one little black dress and a fantastic sequined phenomenon.  Shown here:













Yes, I admit the sequined one is would not typically be my choice.   But after seeing La Cage  - and I need a party dress - and I love the colors - AND I LOOK FANTASTIC IN IT.  Which was mind-blowing to me, she who usually looks terrible in tight tiny dresses. So win. Epic win :D

I traipsed around Friday and Saturday in my "costume" which was my totally ridiculous way of having a Halloween costume without buying anything. Thus I was Gwen Cooper from Torchwood, since I have a similar black leather jacket and pencil jeans. And boots - lots of boots. A costume and my favorite TV show combined. Win-win. [Львица] and I carved pumpkins on Saturday morning which was FABULOUS. Talk about noticing the magic of everyday. There was something truly amazing about cutting into those fresh, fragrant gourds and scooping out the seeds to roast and coat with cinnamon-sugar or salt. Especially cutting into the one I carved, a funny, wild-shaped one that had the oddest, oblong seeds and an aroma more like butternut squash than pumpkin. Our carvings turned out really well. [Львица]'s birdcage was incredible and my goofy face didn't fair too badly either :)

Our pumpkins :)

And that evening I went out to dinner to Kieran's Irish pub with my parents. It's one of my favorite restaurants and was wonderfully decorated with Halloween decorations. I got a good night's sleep at home, watched a spooky movie with my parents and got to nibble on Halloween candy (I forgot how much I actually like Almond Joys, by the way).

So, nothing fancy. Just everyday. But magical none the less. Maybe my cultural studies prof has a point after all. But I don't carve pumpkins everyday... how can I really call it that? OMG, why do I keep doing this to myself? I don't need to keep theorizing my life - that's what got me into this problem to begin with. IT'S MY LIFE. What happens, happens. Whether everyday, wondrous or bizarre. And I need to stop criticizing how I feel all the time - otherwise I truly will loose grip on reality. 

Tomorrow's Halloween - another school day, a dress rehearsal for my band concert. Nothing super exciting. But who knows - I still think there is something magical about this holiday, whether anything extraordinary happens or not. It doesn't need to. It just... feels magical, no matter what.

Ode to October

So, as we reach the end of October (obviously), I'm sharing two songs named after the month. One is by Eric Whitacre, a composer I'm familiar with from high school band (ah, fond memories):

 

(There's also a great and terrible band joke on the comments for this video: How do you tune two flutes? Kill one. Sad, but somewhat true. I play flute, I know the pain.)

And another video from one of my all-time favorite bands: U2.

A little Sunday outing

Today I took a jaunt through an apple orchard and a pumpkin patch with [Львица] and her mother and sister. What a beautiful way to spend a sunny, 80 degree Sunday afternoon.

[Side note - Not that I'm complaining, though I am a little bit because our apartment building retains heat like a greenhouse, but how is it 80 degrees in October in Minnesota? THIS TIME LAST YEAR WE HAD GOTTEN SNOW. Not that I want the snow just yet. It's just I'm longing for crisp days and cold nights. Though this hot spell reminds me strongly of Indiana.]

The apple orchard was cool. Okay, it was more of a store than an orchard, not like the one I went to in sophomore year with [X] and [it's a twin thing] and their parents which actually required us to pick apples and put them in a bucket (fun and an iconic autumn event, but quite difficult if you don't what kind of apple you are looking for). Regardless, I got honeycrisp apples and apple cookies and STRUDEL. And I learned what lefse is (Norwegian potato pancakes. Norwegians baffling me with their cuisine once again!).

And off to a pumpkin patch. I was sort of startled to realize that I, a red-blooded young Midwestern American woman, have never been to an actual pumpkin patch to get pumpkins. Or maybe I did when I was much younger but I don't remember it now. Regardless, it was... magical. I know that sounds bizarre. But there's something about this time of year that is really unlike any other season. There's a scent in the air that appears at no other time, there's a glimpse of possibility, the chance that anything could happen.

Maybe it's the little kid trapped in me that always thought something crazy was going to happen around Halloween. I always wanted to get whisked off to some magical land or fight some sort of otherworldly creature. There's something about this month that's just... exciting.

Deep down I know it's just another month, another time of the year. But it never feels just like that. There's something that jumps into my bloodstream when the leaves start changing and the corn starts getting harvested that makes me a little... well, a little crazy.

I also find myself thinking about Indiana a lot this time of year. Probably because of the corn harvesting (stereotype that Indiana is nothing but corn? Not one hundred percent true, but trust me - there is a HELL of a lot of corn). And also because all of my childhood Halloween experiences happened there. I never really picked up trick-or-treating after I moved to Minnesota because I didn't have anyone to go with and then I got to old and then it got weird. Yay.

But when I was little, I used to count down the days until Halloween. I wrote short stories about it. I spent months planning my costume. I looked forward to all the movies and TV shows with Halloween themes (my personal favorite? One I've actually seen in recent years - the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode where everyone turns into their costumes). I was quite obsessed.

I still am. I just want to run around in a costume for the rest of the month, eat candy, embrace the whimsical and morbid experience that is Halloween. Why do I get this way? I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with being born this time of year. Maybe Halloween is a Scorpio's idea of a perfect holiday (except that I like Christmas too. Like a ton).

But Halloween feels more than a holiday... it's historical. Like Jack-o-lanterns, stemming from the old Celtic tradition of carving gourds to keep away evil spirits (or so I recall reading somewhere. Or watching on that God-awful film reel in Catholic school). It's also controversial. Like the people who won't celebrate Halloween because they think it's a Satanic holiday. I love controversy.

Usually, I don't get this gung-ho about Halloween. While in school, away from all decorations and stores selling stuff for the parties and trick-or-treating, it's easy to forget. Maybe because the season is so weird with the strange weather that it's gotten my attention, reminding me of fall days in Indiana (going to the orchard reminded me of Indiana big time. Selling homemade fudge and apple pies and such  - it was a flashback to Brown County, where the town of Nashville is. Yes, there is a Nashville, Indiana. A bit unfortunate. Anyway, it's the classic old-style town that has a bunch of shops. A bit like Northfield I suppose, for you Minnesotans out there. My parents and I used to go there every year in the fall and they had they BEST fudge in the world. Sometimes I miss Indiana. Just a bit. ) Or maybe it's me trying to make up for last year's Halloween disaster (more about that later). For whatever reason, I've gone bananas over Halloween this year. I want to do something awesome, have a fantastic costume, really REALLY have an American Halloween celebration this year. Maybe because I feel like I don't really know what that means. And I want to find out.

No idea what this means... let's make it a goal to find out, shall we? ;)

A Little Prelude For Halloween

I came across this article online this morning: 'Corpse bride' and groom stage morbid wedding. Which I found because a Facebook friend posted this pic from a Vogue photo shoot for an idea of what she want to dress up as for Halloween.

And then I looked at more photos from the photo shoot...

And if you're not totally eeried out yet, I've had these two songs by Jeremy Messersmith stuck in my head the past two days that also deal with bones and death and such (because I heard about how he was performing a concert in the oldest cemetery in Mineapolis yesterday afternoon to fund-raise for the historic graveyard and I started listening to his music and now it's totally trapped in my head).

Why is there so much stuff about cemeteries and skeletons and the like popping up in the last few days? Maybe it's just standing out because this stuff really gives me the chills. Or because writing fiction about people who can't die really gets you thinking about death. Or maybe because it's NEARLY HALLOWEEN. 'Tis the season.

The Neckbrace Adds Ten Pounds

Something about Saturday was absolutely beautiful. I'm talking last Saturday afternoon, sitting at a stage at the Renaissance Festival, watching the sunlight stream through the breaks between the multi-colored leaves on the branches, the smell of turkey legs and dust and burning wood in the air and the feeling that I was in some sort of time outside of time. Being at the Ren Fest is not about historical accuracy, clearly. Everyone is dressed in... well, whatever. Some people come in street clothes, some, like [Львица] and myself, have costumes that shift somewhere between the Middle Ages and the Baroque period. Although last week - closing weekend - I did see someone dressed as Death and someone dressed as Jesus. Right next to each other. Win.

I've seen more confusing wardrobe choices - a manga-sort character. A man dressed as a 1950's funeral parlor zombie. A guy in a neckbrace in some sort of greenish plastic tube top and shorts (I think he was wearing shorts. Or maybe it was some sort of wrap skirt) complaining about how fat he was (he was stick-thin, but whatever) and the girl he was with telling him the neckbrace adds ten pounds. Next year, I'm on the look-out for someone dressed as a time lord (actually, it makes more sense to see the Doctor than it does to see Jesus. Sorry, it's the truth).

Case and point - the Ren Fest is not so much about the Renaissance sometimes. Sometimes it's an excuse to dress up - sometimes it goes to far that direction, I agree. But it's also a sort of escape - not in a depressing, "oh, my life is too much!" kind of way, but more of a way to get outside of what we're used to. We don't go around wearing corsets, trying to do without modern technology,  living under monarchs and that sort of things. It's a taste of fantasy, a bit of time travel mixed with fairy tales. It's not perfect - sometimes it's awkward. But it's usually a lot of fun.

And for those of you who think it's only for nerds, check out the pickle men and the belly dancers. You will be sadly mistaken.

Apples to Apples

I now know that fall is officially here - I ate my first Honeycrisp apple of the season today.

Why is this important? BECAUSE HONEYCRISP APPLES ARE THE BEST FUCKING APPLES I HAVE EVER EATEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. PERIOD.

I'm not actually being over-dramatic. As anyone who's ever eaten one can tell you, they are orgasmic. They'd probably be the apple that Eve ate in the Garden of Eden (all debates about whether apples can grow in the Middle East/ whether the "forbidden fruit" was actually a kumquat or some other vegetation) except that the Honeycrisp apple is one of those wonderful things modern science has created (like the flying saucer-shaped peaches) at none other than the University of Minnesota. But as far as GMOs go, it tastes pretty natural to me. Actually WAY more natural than Red Delicious or even Granny Smith now (seriously, I had a Granny Smith apple over the summer and it had NO flavor. When I was six, they used to be so tart they made my jaw ache. What HAPPENED?!) I mean, Honeycrisp have this great, sweet, juicy flavor and are super-crunchy, as if to announce to everyone around you, "Hells yes, I'm eating a Honeycrisp."

Other than being super fantastically delicious, they are also one of the few things in the produce section that only appear during certain times of the year. Thus, it's seasonal, local and fucking delicious. And special, because I can't just walk into Cub Foods in March and find it there.

So it's time to eat as many of this babies as I can to fully express the season that is autumn. I'm thinking of trying that baked apples recipe from Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution cookbook - I made those this summer with the gross Granny Smiths and they were AMAZING. WITH BAD APPLES. Imagine what it would taste like with these suckers...