Giving Thanks

This week was the second time I wasn't with my family for Thanksgiving, the first time being when I was in England, so there WAS no Thanksgiving, and it's not like I could have gone home, anyway. I could have gone home this time, and I didn't. It would have been expensive, really expensive, and expensive is not in my budget, and I had so much work, and I'll be home in three weeks anyway...so staying here was justified, but I still felt awful about it. I love Thanksgiving (apart from the, you know, "let's kill all the Native Americans and take their land" problem). It's probably tied with Christmas as my favorite holiday, because it's about family and friends and food, and giving thanks. And here's what I'm thankful for! Prepare yourself for some sappiness.

I'm thankful for my family. Even when I'm not close by, I know that they are always just a phone call or video screen away, and that is an immensely comforting thing. I was able to video-chat with my aunt and some of my cousins during the Thanksgiving parade, and then my mom, dad, sister, and grandmother after dinner, and that made the day infinitely better. This is our first Thanksgiving without my grandmother, and this is going to be a hard holiday season for me. But knowing that they will always make me laugh when I need it and let me cry when I need it is something that keeps me sane.

I'm thankful for my friends. I have awesome friends. I have been a mess this fall at replying to mail and calls (usually I'm pretty good, but not recently) and they have continued to send me cards, leave me funny voicemails, and put up with my whining. I'm really lucky in that I have close friends from high school and college and now grad school. I miss my college friends so much (I miss my high school friends too, of course, but I usually get to see them around the holidays) but it just makes our meetings that much better when they do happen. We're pretty good about staying in contact, and I hope that never changes.

I'm thankful that I get paid to go to school. I mean, really, how good is this gig? I teach something that I love, take classes that I like, and am able to live off of this without having to work more on the side. Not everyone gets to do this, and I'm very fortunate. Yes, sometimes it's pretty stressful, especially since I'm applying to Phd programs right now and not knowing what is coming up for my future is scary as hell, but--I'm glad I'm doing it.

I'm thankful for good food. This year, instead of super-traditional Thanksgiving fare, a friend and I just cooked parts of it that we liked. So we had garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, garlic bread, carrots and dip, black raspberries, guacamole and chips, mimosas, chardonay, and salted caramel cheesecake. I'm rather pleased about this cheesecake, as it was my first time making one. I decided to do it from scratch, from making the dulce de leche by boiling a can of condensed milk, to cooking caramel for the top. Which was really cool! I felt like a wizard, because when you add the cream to the hot sugar it freaks out, but you just whisk and whisk and it turns out ok. Rather cool.

I'm thankful for pets, especially the cats that I housesat for this week. I definitely would like to get a dog or a cat when I finally settle in a place for longer than a few years. One of the cats doesn't like people who she doesn't know, but by the end of the week she had crept out and let me pet her. And the other cat did not budge from my lap if I was sitting. Or typing, as evidenced by this photo, taken with my computer camera:
I'm thankful for Jane Austen. Self-explanatory, really.

I'm thankful to live in this country, much though I find it frustrating a lot of the time. As an American, I do have personal freedom (especially as a woman) that I would not have other places, and the means to protest if I so choose.

I'm thankful for feminist art historians. Without these people (especially one in particular) I would not have gone to grad school, and probably wouldn't have majored in art history in the first place. Thanks for changing my adopted corner of academia for the better.

I'm thankful for yarn, the way knitting needles click, and the satisfaction of making something out of, well, strings. I'm excited to spend my winter break knitting and watching Dr. Who.

I'm thankful that the Muppets are back, and REALLY jazzed about seeing the movie soon. We watched The Muppet Christmas Carol (aka the best Christmas Carol ever made, if not the best Christmas movie ever) on Thanksgiving, and it never ceases to make me happy.

And speaking of Christmas--I am thankful for Christmas things, especially Bloomington's Canopy of Lights! Some friends and I went to the big lighting kick-off the Friday after Thanksgiving and it was spectacular. So many people were gathered around the square, and the emcee and this fairly creepy clown led the singing of carols and then Santa arrived, and we counted down from 10, and then they turned on the lights! And then we all sang, "We Wish you a Merry Christmas" and dispersed. My friends and I went around the shops around the courthouse, got some soup (pumpkin with roasted pumpkin seeds on it, yum. There is a new soup restaurant on the square, perfect for lunchtime take out, and only $4 or so for a bowl--I think they have 8 different soups a day), and then went and got a drink, and went home!Post-lighting! The lights go from the courthouse to the buildings around the square, so it really *does* look like a canopy of lights!

A bit blurry, but a view of the courthouse and the Hospice Tree of Life.

Favorite bars, Irish Lion and Crazy Horse, all kitted out for Christmas! (fun fact, these two buildings used to be a brothel in the late 1800s)Friends. Lights. Happy belated Thanksgiving, everyone!

"Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends. "

I feel like I'm living in a Christmas Story, because 1. I live in Indiana, 2. it is snowing, and 3. people around me quote it constantly as, indeed, so do I.Here is the square in downtown Bloomington, in all its Christmas-y splendor. I've never seen trees wrapped so well! And it's not just the square that's bedecked. I had a haircut this morning and I go to a place which is in a Victorian house and already full of quirky wall colors and fun decorations (the foils they use for coloring are leopard print, for example), but they really went to town for Christmas. My hairdresser said they close for a day to fully decorate, and it shows--the stairs up to the second floor were completely turned into a Christmas village with houses and fake snow, mini-trees were on all the cabinets, ornaments hung from every doorway and ceiling, and gold ribbon was everywhere. I was in the small mall downtown yesterday, and it's the same thing there! The best was long strings of lights hanging from the ceiling--I had to duck to pass under them--and the ceiling is mirrored so it looked really cool.

It's been a very hard week for non-academic reasons, and I will be so glad to be home. As always, though, it had really nice moments, due to the fabulous people in my life. On Wednesday, to celebrate surviving our first semester, a bunch of us went to Grazie, the Italian restaurant on the square, and got to admire all those Christmas lights. What did I have? A campari and soda (the people in one of the mystery series I like drink those all the time), some Malbec, and gnocchi in a very tasty Gorgonzola sauce with a lot of spinach. All told, it cost about my entire weeks food budget, but no matter. Grazie is a really cool place--our server was great and the decor is classy but comfy. I'll definitely be back. Having sampled other people's dinners, the food seems to be uniformly tasty, too. After that we went to a dance party where there was ABBA records (I love ABBA and I don't care who knows it) and silliness and it snowed and snowed.

Which brings me to the title of this post, quoted from It's a Wonderful Life, a movie which I am ambiguous about. I spend so much of it being depressed, and then the ending is such a mushfest. When everyone brings the money so George doesn't have to go to jail and Harry Bailey says, "A toast to my big brother George: The richest man in town," I cry EVERYTIME. I honestly teared up just typing it. Which shows that I am a total sap, but also that Christmas movies, carols, and books are embedded in so many of my memories that I can't fathom a world in which I wasn't watching The Muppets Christmas Carol with my family on Christmas Eve, because that is what we DO.

One of the many reasons why I like this time of year is because I am a creature of ritual and tradition. It doesn't have to do with the religious aspects at all, really--it's more the fact that so many people experience it, and Christmas is such a good and convenient time to be happy and thankful. I've got a lot of Northern blood, but sometimes even for me the winters get too cold and dark and claustrophobic, and I need friends and family then, more than ever. And if there are cookies involved, so much the better!

So because I'm a grad student and really good at quoting other people, here are some of my favorite Christmas things. Most you probably know, but some maybe not. Enjoy.

"You - you said - what'd you say a minute ago? They had to wait and save their money before they even ought to think of a decent home. Wait? Wait for what? Until their children grow up and leave them? Until they're so old and broken down that they... Do you know how long it takes a working man to save five thousand dollars? Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about... they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they're cattle. Well, in my book he died a much richer man than you'll ever be."
--George Bailey, It's a Wonderful Life
[Jimmy Stewart is so cool. I wanted to be a senator after watching Mr Smith Goes to Washington as an impressionable youngster.]

"Whence comes this rush of wings afar,
Following straight the Noël star?
Birds from the woods in wondrous flight,
Bethlehem seek this holy night."
--"Whence Comes this Rush of Wings," which I think was originally a French carol
[if you don't know this carol, I would suggest looking it up. My grandmother has a sweet Christmas carol book from the Met, so it's got all these cool paintings in it too, and my sister and I have lately become enamored of this carol. It's got a lovely little dissonant bit at the end, and the bird imagery is neat.]

My mouth's bleedin' Bert! My mouth's bleedin!

"There was a line for Santa and a line for the women's bathroom, and one woman, after asking me a dozen questions already, asked, 'Which is the line for the women's bathroom?' I shouted that I thought it was the line with all the women in it.
She said, 'I'm going to have you fired.'
I had two people say that to me today, 'I'm going to have you fired.' Go ahead, be my guest. I'm wearing a green velvet costume; it doesn't get any worse than this. Who do these people think they are?
'I'm going to have you fired!' And I wanted to lean over and say, 'I'm going to have you killed.'"
--David Sedaris, "The Santaland Diaries," from Barrel Fever
[Not overly jolly, I suppose, but so true in so many awful ways. David Sedaris reading this is even more win, so do check that out here. It's not the whole story, but it'll give you a taster. For more Sedaris Christmas Wonderfulness, here is the text to "Six to Eight Black Men," which is the first essay of his I ever heard. It's great.]

Ms Sheilds, in Ralphie's dream: "Oh! The theme I've been waiting for all my life. Listen to this sentence: 'A Red Ryder BB gun with a compass in the stock, and this thing which tells time'. Poetry. Sheer poetry, Ralph! An A+!"
--A Christmas Story
[One of those movies that my family could probably quote in its entirety, as could so many other people.]

Oh, there goes Mr. Humbug
There goes Mr. Grim
If they gave a prize for being mean
The winner would be him
Old Scrooge, he loves his money
'Cause he thinks it gives him power
If he became a flavour you can bet he would be sour
Aside, vegetable: Yuck!
Vegetable seller: Even the vegetables don't like him!
--"Scrooge," from the Muppet Christmas Carol
[Again, my family could legitimately quote this entire movie. I also think every line from it is hilarious, and the songs are really very good, if you like Muppets. I especially love "Thankful Heart." Michael Caine will always be Scrooge to me.]

Kermit as Bob Cratchit. Genius, my friends.

"Dasher Dancer Prancer Vixen
Eisenhower Kennedy Johnson Nixon
Dasher Dancer Prancer Vixen
Carter Reagan Bush and Clinton"
--Bob Dylan, "Must be Santa"
[I bought Dylan's Christmas CD, Christmas In the Heart, last year when it came out and I'm still not sure why, as Dylan singing "Little Drummer Boy" makes the ears bleed. I think he had the proceeds go to charity, which is a nice deal, and "Must be Santa" is such good fun! The music video is GREAT. Any time I can see Dylan smoking a cigar while saying "ho ho ho," vaguely gesticulating in lieu of dancing, and wearing a myriad of hats, is time well spent.]

Flick? Flick who?

Rudolph: But you fell off the edge of the cliff.
Yukon Cornelius: Didn't I ever tell you about Bumbles? Bumbles bounce.
--Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer
[This movie transports me back to being 6 years old. And Hermey wants to be a dentist!]

Handel's Messiah. All of it.
[I only listen to it at Christmas, and I don't know why, because some of those arias should be heard year round.]

What are you favorite Christmas things, pop culture-y or otherwise? (I could write an entire post about lingonberries, rice pudding, korv, Janson's Temptation, glogg, pickled herring, pepperkaker and Bondost, but I don't want to make you all hungry!)

And whether you celebrate Christmas (religiously or not), Chanukah, Kwanza, Festivus, St Stephen's Day, the Winter Solstice, Boxing Day, or nothing in particular, I hope that you and yours are happy and healthy. Safe travels, and see you in 2011!!

Wish List

Every year about this time, I write my parents my Christmas Wish List. It's usually a pretty silly affair--I always put a Green Volvo right at the top, although mostly it's not too outrageous (in looking over the past few years, the most common elements were "funky jewelry," increasingly dorky art history books, and the West Wing on DVD.) Anyway, I sat down to write my list today and this is as far as I got before I stopped:
--large mixing bowls
--Chicago Manual of Style 16th Edition
--flannel sheets

BORING. The thing is, I don't need stuff. Transporting it would be a pain, and sappy as this will sound, the top of my list is to be with my family and friends, eating copious amounts of cookies and drinking copious amounts of glogg. But do I want stuff? Well, yeah. Here are some things that are just too fabulous to pass up, whether real or not.

A Colander



But not just any colander. One that is shaped liked an Angelfish. (Thanks to Amazon for the images.) One of my friends clued me into Boston Warehouse and their ADORABLE household goods, and this is one of my favorites. Another is the Peacock Duster.





Admittedly, I don't dust that often. But I actually might, with one of these babies.







A Piano
I don't care what brand or model or size or color, it just needs to have pedals that (mostly) work and be tuned. Admittedly, if I won the lottery and had a much bigger apartment, I would want a cherry wood baby grand Steinway. My boss last year was in a concert at Steinway Hall, and I went and then wandered some of the showrooms, and ohmygosh. They have a "crown jewel collection" and they are ridiculously gorgeous. Practically too gorgeous to play, actually. (don't believe me? check it out here.) Until then, I'd be happy with a "free piano" from craigslist, as long as most of the keys were there.

Sterling Cooper Draper & Pryce T-Shirt

I haven't watched Mad Men this season (no cable + no time) but at the end of last season, Sterling and Cooper broke away from the company bearing their names and started a new ad agency with Don Draper and Lane Pryce, the English guy sent to oversee their takeover. It was a momentous episode. There was much rejoicing in our apartment during it. I like this t-shirt because Mad Men is a stellar TV show. The soundtrack is not half bad, either.




A Biopic about Caravaggio
Now, lest you scoff, not just any biopic. One where they interview actual cool art historians and don't focus on the tawdry details of Caravaggio's life (because, ya know, he also PAINTED OCCASIONALLY). The main stipulation, though: there must be plenty of reenactments of Caravaggio painting, talking to Cardinal del Monte, stalking the streets of Rome, etc. Caravaggio must be played by Johnny Depp, and he must paint with no shirt on.

Vintage Amber Earrings

I really like how amber looks--perhaps too much time spent watching Jurassic Park as small child? Maybe it just reminds me of honey/maple syrup? Anyway, amber is lovely, as is Etsy (thanks for the image, Etsy!), as is old jewelery, especially when the jewelery seems well-loved and used by the previous wearer of it.




Finger Lakes Wine of the Month Club Membership
I doubt that such a thing exists, but if it did, I would like it for 1. nostalgia's sake, 2. the fact that I genuinely like the wine produced there, and 3. I try to drink local wine, but everything produced here is really, really sweet, and I miss the awesome selection in NY.

A Mary Worth Tote Bag

I will go on the record saying that Mary Worth is the greatest, most unintentionally hilarious comic strip printed in American newspapers. For those of you who are uninitiated, she's this biddy who offers advice to people, mostly by butting into their lives. Everyone is either very good or very bad (or very dumb). There is no gray area in Mary Worth's world. She solves their problems, and at every story's end they have a pool party where no one swims, and they eat what appears to be salmon squares and drink what appears to be ketchup in glass goblets. Occasionally Mary's "gentleman friend" Dr Jeff Corey asks her to marry him and she always says no. Mary Worth is the most entertaining thing published in my hometown paper.

A Man
A nice one. If he had attractively muscular arms and was willing to vacuum, I wouldn't complain. Ideally, someone not unlike Atticus Finch, just slightly younger and maybe with a Scottish accent. He doesn't have to like opera, but he should be willing to sit it out for me. If he could fix computers that would be great, or at least know more about computers than me. Witty. Functional knowledge of cooking and current events. Appreciation for Monty Python, Star Wars, and poetry, but doesn't feel the need to quote them all the time. Perhaps has a dog, or at least is kind to dogs. Kind to people. Doesn't creep on people at bars. Non-misogynistic, non-homophobic, doesn't privilege certain religious traditions over others, etc. Clean hair. Now that I've put this out there, universe, I shall be delighted to see you what you come up with. Cheers.

A Trip to Jarrolds (at Christmas)

This is Jarrolds, a department store in Norwich, England. Every Wednesday morning, my friends and I would meet there and go to the 5th floor, where there was a cafe, and we would get scones with all the elderly British people. A cheese scone with raspberry jam and some time spent gazing at the Christmas displays in all the windows would be really wonderful.

A Piece of Cheesecake from Lord's Bakery
Lord's Bakery is located in Flatbush/East Flatbush, Brooklyn (or as my cousin's students lovingly call it, "Gaza Flatbush.") It is a magical place. The people are super nice, the cakes are stunners, the bagels are less than a dollar, and the cheesecake is the best cheesecake I've ever had. It's got this lemon-y, fresh taste to it. I miss Lord's Bakery. A LOT.

The Ability to Apparate or be able to Immediately Visit my Friends without having to Pay for Plane Tickets, Wait in Airports/Train Stations, etc.
Self explanatory, really. Maybe we should all pick a town and all move there? Of course, with that much goodness in one place, my head and heart might explode.

Veteran's Day

Today is Veteran's Day. Ever since I can remember, my sister and I would go outside with my dad and we would take a shot at 11:11. We started with shots of orange juice and then moved up to Fuzzy Navel and harder spirits. Today I had a shot for my dad, and also for my grandfathers and my dad's good friend Dave, who is a sweet teddy-bear of a man (he makes a mean fruit salad, and also does a killer Beverly Sills impression.) It's a strange "holiday" as such, one that doesn't get much play in this country, other than as a day off from school. Three years ago I was in England for Remembrance Day/Armistice Day, and it is a MUCH different affair there.

My parents and godmothers were visiting me, and we just happened to pick the Saturday before Remembrance Day as the day we'd go to Westminster Cathedral. We thought it was slightly odd that there were metal detectors up, and that everyone else was pretty elderly, but they let us through to the courtyard, where we saw this:

"Plots" for every branch of military service, nurses, drivers, etc. Everyone kept saying, "get to your plot" and of course we had no idea what was going on, having been let through in the first place only because we were wearing red poppies in our lapels, as was everyone else. (note: this starts in late October and runs 'til Remembrance Day. As my American Foreign Policy tutor, the legendary Andy Patmore, told me, "I wear the poppy for everyone who has died in war, not just the bloody British.) So we ended up hanging out with Ken the Veteran from Birmingham, and a passel of old women, who explained to us that this was the big Remembrance Day service, and that usually the Queen comes, but "her back was playing up" so it would be Prince Phillip this year. There was a procession from the church with trumpets and be-robed people, and at 11 they recited part of the For the Fallen poem by Laurence Binyon. Everyone (except the Wayward Americans) said the last part in unison,

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them."

It totally sent chills down my spine. Just to see all the people who were there, and eavesdrop on their stories, was amazing, and the fact that everything stops at 11--even traffic--while people observe a moment of silence. It's much more potent there for many reasons. When we returned to Norwich, there was a Remembrance Day parade and there was another service at the Norwich Cathedral, as you can see from these pictures:


Most of my meaningful military experiences seem to start in England, oddly enough, and here is what happened on the Thanksgiving that I was there. A friend and I had gone out for waffles and chocolate mousse to console ourselves for being so far away from our families, and afterwards she headed to the shops and I headed to the market (Norwich has a HUGE open air market). There were lots of people milling about, so I stayed to see what was happening. It was the returning home parade for the East Anglian Regiment from Afghanistan, so we were standing there, and they processed down the road with bagpipes and bands, and the guy behind me yelled, "there's my son!" and everyone around me cheered. You could tell the soldiers were supposed to be serious, but they kept sneakily smiling and were so happy to be home, safe. Even though I was 20 at the time, they looked even younger than me.

The old woman next to me (we had been chatting about how short we were before the parade started) turned to me at one point, and lightly touched my arm, saying, "ach, my dear, they are barely more than boys." I burst into tears. I was trying to be quiet about it, because the Brits are, by and large, not big on the emotional displays. It was a combination of things that set me off--the youth of the soldiers, the happiness of their relatives, the fact that it was Thanksgiving and I missed home, the fact that so many people, in so many countries were fighting each other and not returning home, and on and on. The old man in front of me turned around and said, "you should be able to see better, young lady. Come in front of me." I tried to protest, but he was having none of it. So I moved up, and he smiled at me. "It's all better now," he said. "They're alright now."

This post, it turns out, has nothing to do with Indiana. I spent today doing 3 loads of laundry, cleaning my apartment, and translating part of a simplified version of The Decameron. And as this post has instead turned into "Anna's Greatest Hits England Stories" and needs to be wrapped up, I will end with two recommendations:
1. if you are interested in the current wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, do check out Generation Kill: Devil Dogs, Iceman, Captain America and the New Face of American War (2004) by Evan Wright. My cousin and I both read it after watching the miniseries (of the same name) on HBO. The miniseries is great too. Both are powerful, crazy, funny, moving, and horrifying.
2. As a creature of ritual, I have of late been listening to Masters of War by Bob Dylan and Alice's Restaurant by Arlo Guthrie on Veteran's Day. Both sum up a lot of what I feel about fighting in general.

And I'll close with a line from M*A*S*H: You've gotta understand. I'm not working on sick people here. I'm working on hurt young people, with essentially healthy bodies that have been insulted by ammunition. -- BJ