Monday, December 30, 2013


Last New Year's, I was thinking a lot about beginnings. I know now that was because I hadn't had any in years, and there was a lot I needed to seek out. What I didn't know at the time was just how many new beginnings were in store. A new city. New friends. New opportunities. New experience. New perspective.

I'm proud of how open I was in 2013, how much new life I let in and how much I risked for it all.

But this year, as "the countdown" approaches, I'm feeling differently. I've been thinking about what, exactly, it means to make a resolution. Many people make them on New Year's Eve, but I think the introspective among us are always resolving.

But what does that really mean? 

I love versatile, yet powerful words like resolve. To have resolve means to be bold and courageous, steadfast and earnest. To exhibit willpower, intention, and purpose.

In medicine, to resolve means to heal. 
"symptoms resolved after a median of four weeks"

When talking about something seen at a distance, to resolve means to turn into a different form when seen more clearly, to transform.
"the orange glow resolved itself into four lanterns"

When dealing with problems, to resolve means to find a solution.
"the firm aims to resolve problems within 30 days"

In musical arrangements, to resolve means to move from discord (confusing or harsh sounds) to concord (harmonious sounds). To, quite literally, move from chaos to harmony.
"the song resolves from dissonance to consonance near the very end"

When dealing with decisions, to resolve means to firmly choose a course of action.

In chemistry, it means separating something out to distinguish between its parts, or to make sense of something by putting it on a spectrum.

It can also mean placing a vote to express a formal opinion, or dispelling doubt by clearing away the inflammatory or unnecessary. 

All of which feels a lot like what I need to be doing and being in the coming year.

Her eyes are light and clear
And fearless like Chicago winds in the winter time
And her hair is never quite in place
And the knees in her jeans have seen better days
And she's no beauty queen but you love her anyway
She's a wildewoman

Yeah, she'll only be bound by the things she chooses
-Lucius, Wildewoman

Here's to resolution. 2014, we have our work cut out for us.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Epiphanies, Volume III

Volumes I & II.
  • Are you ready? Get ready, because I am about to blow your mind. Ready? Tootsie Roll-flavored coffee creamer. Am I right? I would buy that in bulk. (I Googled it. It doesn't exist. But I did find a recipe for a Tootsie Roll drink based on vodka, so, you know, win.)

  • Socrates said, "An unexamined life is not worth living." He didn't say, "Examining your life is one route to achieve happiness." or "You should stop and examine things from time to time." Nope. He said a life without reflection is not even worth it.  This is thinly-veiled justification for my over-thinking tendencies, I admit, but damn, that's some statement, Soc. 

  • On that note, Pema Chodron's notion that "Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know" is blowing my mind recently. 

  • The United States spends less money on cancer research than it does on potato chips. Think about that next time you buy a $.99 bag of Lays.

  • Winter in Chicago is no joke. It's either gonna toughen me up or make me so crabby that I just start running in the south/west direction. So far the latter is more likely. I shall arrive bundled up beyond recognition--and then I'll be crabby because I'll be too hot. In the event that this happens: West Coast friends, please gently remind me to remove my scarf. (This sweatshirt made me laugh.)

  • Music that is perfectly acceptable for treadmill purposes suddenly seems fourteen kinds of inappropriate when it comes on in other settings, like the bus, or, you know, the office. Also, 'Sup Diddy, where ya been? I've sort of missed you. #butseriouslyLudafolife

Monday, December 16, 2013


  • I slather my hair in a gooey concoction of honey, mayonnaise and olive oil on the regular. That is not the confession. The confession is that I actually believe 100% that it works magic on my hair. I have a lot of beliefs about hair. 

  • Sometimes I wonder who would see my Google search history if I died. And by 'sometimes', I mean 'nearly every day'. And by 'wonder', I mean 'worry about'. Let my headstone read: 
                               Here lies Bobbi Marie. 
                               She was a very curious person.

  • Sometimes I wait for a second elevator in the morning because I like to be alone until at least 10am if I can help it. 

  • A random guy at Trader Joes asked me what I'd do if I won the Mega Millions (In retrospect he was hitting on me, but--confession within a confession--I can never really tell I'm being hit on *while* its happening...). Anyways, I told him I'd buy an island and just live the life, and maybe an airplane so people could visit when they wanted. But, really, the first thing I'd do (while my island sale is pending) is buy this dress  and throw a Gossip Girl-esque party. And you would all have to wear masks. No exceptions.

  • The second thing I would do is throw a ton of money into private detectives so that the people from the Craiglist ad could have a second drink.  And then I would do something about this.

  • Whoever I marry will need to be cool with me wearing that dress on our wedding day, because, seriously, purple > white any day of the week. Besides, as Miranda said so eloquently, the jig is up

  • I know that show is seventeen kinds of ridiculous, but good god, I am so thankful for friendships like theirs. You know, the kind where your phone call ends with: "God, could you imagine if someone was listening to this conversation?" "Well, the NSA is, but oh well. Screw 'em. They'll laugh their a$$es off."