Author Archives: janaremy@gmail.com

growth

I think I’m gonna get kinda mushy in this post.  But it’s so pretty outside today, I think I’ve lost my head a bit…

The longer days and the recent daylight-saving time switch mean that I’m getting home at night while it’s still light outside.  Such a huge difference that makes in how weary I am when I walk in that front door.

And today, I not only got home early, but I had enough time to water my plants (poor plants don’t get much attention in the wintertime).  There’s a lot of magic happening in my backyard right now, including

peach buds
orange blossoms
rosebuds (so many!)
heliotrope clusters
herbs that are “waking up” after getting all leggy and tired in the winter

But the most exciting discovery today was this, which took me my surprise because I’ve been checking that particular pot everyday and thought that maybe (maybe) nothing would grow:
IMG_6837

And then I looked a bit closer and found this:
IMG_6843

And even this (can you see how small it is when the grains of soil around it look like boulders?!:
IMG_6846

Those three wee plants are the first growths of the tulips that came from the bulbs that came to me in a suitcase all the way from Amsterdam last year. The bulbs “wintered” in my refrigerator drawer for several weeks, then we planted them, and…then, today, sprouts!

My longtime readers know just how happy it makes me to have growing things all around me.  And of course in springtime those feelings are magnified, even more.  Now I can’t wait to see those teeny stems and leaves turn into something tall and sleek and colorful.  🙂

My Top-10 clothing-packing tips

Inspired by this Profhacker post, here are my Top 10 clothing-packing tips.  I believe in keeping things simple, and developed the strategies below so I can minimize the worries that I have before an upcoming trip, and so I can prepare at a moment’s notice.*  For me, that means carrying on one small roll-aboard suitcase with my clothing/toiletries and a shoulder bag with my travel documents and electronics.  For long trips with many transfers, I’ll carry it all in one backpack.

1) Travel light.  If in doubt, don’t bring it. (I can’t emphasize this enough–one can definitely travel in Europe for two weeks and wear the same clothes everyday)

2) Related to #1, Carry on.  If you carry on your bags, you’ll be forced to travel light and can make smoother transfers, and can get where you’re going without needing an assistant or a trolley to get you there.  But egads, don’t be that carry-on person with the too-large expandable-zipper suitcase.  If you can’t lift it over your head and into the bin easily, it’s too much.

3) Make a universal packing list and then customize it for each trip.  I keep my universal packing list in a googledoc (so I can access it from work or phone or home), and then create a new list for a specific trip using the universal list as a template.  Or if my travel is so last-minute that I don’t have time for a custom list, I just use the universal one.

4) Include an outfit list with your packing list.  I print out this list and put it in the inside mesh-zipper pocket of my roll-aboard, where it’s visible every time I open my bag.  I didn’t use to do that, but I found that if I make a list of each outfit that I’ll need for my trip, I’m less likely to forget something like the shoes or the tights that I need to make an ensemble work.  And I’m also less likely to be packing items that I won’t actually wear and will add unnecessary weight (see #1). Also, I rarely bring more than three outfits on a trip–even one that’ll last two weeks.  By outfit list, I mean something like this:

Conference day #2: black slacks; brown sweater with black tank layered underneath; black trouser socks; black flats; gold chain necklace and gold hoop earrings; grey raincoat and blue flowered scarf

As a sidenote:  I’ve you’ve seen me at many conferences you’ve probably realized that I wear the same outfits to most of them.  I like having a “uniform” and making things easy on myself that way–so I can focus on the content of the event and not on fretting about what I’m wearing to and from.  While I also get a lot of pleasure from looking nice when I travel, for me keeping things simple offers that, rather than worrying too much about the details of my clothing choices (and knowing that and being stress-free is more important to me than accessorizing).

5) Wear black and grey items with colored accessories.  It’s true that I probably wear too much black, but it’s so seductive when one is packing light–it not only doesn’t show roadgrime, but it can go from casual to classy just by changing a necklace or a scarf.  For example, one of my must-packs is a black knit dress like this one.  It can go from beach to opera house** depending on whether I wear tights or a belt or boots or chandelier earrings.  I can layer a long-sleeve tee underneath it for winter, too.  My black travel staples include the dress mentioned above, a tanktop, wash & wear dress-slacks, and a long-sleeve tshirt.

6) I try to make sure that every item I bring can be both dressed-up and dressed-down, particularly my bulky outerwear because I don’t want to bring along more than one coat or jacket.  For example, for winter I’ve got a hip-length grey wool peacoat that looks good with jeans and a t-shirt, as well as over a cocktail dress.  For fall weather I bring along an artsy-looking black velvet blazer with a bright-colored lining that can be worn with tailored clothes, casual, or dressy.

7) I wear one pair of shoes and pack another.  Usually I wear something more casual (i.e.  Cons) and pack a pair of black flats.  If it’s winter and I need to bring boots along, then I sacrifice a lot of suitcase real-estate to do so (it’s rarely worth it to me).

8) For me, going through TSA checkpoints can be a bit of a hassle (i.e. I always get the patdown), so I tend to wear as little clothing as possible for those encounters.  Usually that means a knit dress over leggings or a tank top with slacks or jeans.  That way, there’s no mystery about what I might be “hiding” under my clothes.  Most importantly, I carry the same bags every time I travel so I’m familiar with exactly what they look like and how they feel in my arms. So I can easily tell if I’ve forgotten anything, or left an item behind on the conveyor belt–even when my mind is preoccupied about whether I’ve got time for my flight transfers.  Also, I tend to wear socks when I travel because I don’t like the idea of walking barefoot through the TSA area (oh, and I also like going sock-footed while at my seat on the plane).  But maybe I’m just weird that way.

9) Have dual-purpose clothing.  I pack pajama pants that I can also wear to the gym, and a spandex tank-top that can be paired with a skirt for a night out, layered under a sweater for warmth, worn for a workout in the hotel fitness center, or also worn for a dip in the ocean/hotel swimming pool/WaldenPond.  I will confess that I’ve done all of those with the same tank-top in the same trip.  It works, and one can always rinse it out in the sink and let it dry overnight if one doesn’t want eau-du-pond lingering for the rest of your travel.

10) This is only tangentially clothing-related, but is so important to smooth travel, that it warrants being the capstone on this list.  Keep your travel documents in one place, and make that the same place in the same bag every time you travel.  I carry a file folder in my shoulder bag with my travel documents, including itineraries, reservation conformations, train passes, addresses/phone list, and conference schedules.  If I take a document out of that folder, I put it right back in as soon as I’m done.  I also use that same folder to collect receipts for travel reimbursement, or brochures from places that I visited.  If I’m having to jot down some important contact information for my trip on the fly (i.e. my hotel reservation was changed to a different place and I’m copying down an address for a cab driver), I’ll write it directly on the outside of the folder so it’s easy to find.  Then when I get home from the trip I put that folder into my file drawer for future reference.

And a bonus:
11) Streamline electronics.  In an ideal world I would bring my Canon 50d and my MacBook and my phone and e-reader along on every trip.  Instead, for freedom and mobility I allow myself one large (read: heavy) electronics item and I forgo the others.  For example, if I’m headed to Europe for pleasure, I’ll bring my nice camera and leave the laptop.  However, if I’m traveling domestically for work, I’ll probably leave both home unless I’m giving a conference talk and I need to present from my laptop (although Prezi for iPad might mean I no longer do that, soon enough).  I tend to bring my iPad (non-3G because I’m cheap like that) and iPhone on every trip now.  On the iPad I load guidebooks and layover-reading materials.  Given its longer battery life, it’s well-worth the weight of that in addition to my iPhone, which works better for mapping and communicating with fellow travelers or family members back home.

*one day last summer I spent time in three different countries with social obligations in each one that required changes of clothing.  Pulling that off has convinced me that traveling light and simple is the way to go–so I can enjoy the journey more and fret less.
**or to an on-the-spot cameo appearance in the LDS Conference Center
musee d'orsay

Sonia’s legacy

The story of Sonia Johnson’s journey, From Housewife to Heretic, is a cautionary tale for young Mormon feminists. Through the story of Johnson we are warned against the dangers of too much ‘liberal’ education and too much female empowerment.

In her (in)famous speech–the one that most likely caused her excommunication–she wrote:

The political implications of this mass renunciation of individual conscience under direction from “God” are not clearly enough understood in this country. The Mormons, a tiny minority, are dedicated to imposing the Prophet’s moral directives upon all Americans, and they may succeed if Americans do not become aware of their methods and goals. Because the organization of the Church is marvelously tight, and the obedience of the members marvelously thoroughgoing, potentially thousands of people can be mobilized in a very short time to do–conscientiously–whatever they are told, without more explanation that “the Prophet has spoken…”

Members are cautioned not to reveal that they are Mormons or organized by the Church when they lobby, write letters, donate money and pass out anti-ERA[political] brochures door-to-door through whole states. Instead, they are directed to say they are concerned citizens following the dictates of their individual consciences. Since they are, in fact, following the very dictates of the Prophet’s conscience and would revise their own overnight if he were to revise his, nothing could be further from the truth.

I include Sonia Johnson in my pantheon of Mormon foremothers–as someone whose actions have influenced my own stance towards politics and the LDS church.  And I find her words even more salient (and perhaps, even more frightening) in a post-Prop8 world with a Mormon candidate vying for the highest political office in the United States.
5 fav LDS women's books

this caring colored my life…(a requiem)

 Just came home and got this news.  Such an amazing way to start a weekend!

This poem has been in my queue for awhile, awaiting the day when “Remy vs. Remy” was finally settled.  And, that is today (will y’all raise a glass my way tonite, my friends?  This is truly a moment that calls for commemoration–a time to toast to life-lessons learned)…And as always seems to happen in my life, when one door closes, many more open up on the pathway ahead.  I’m turned towards all of those right now rather than looking back…

So, I don’t think John will see this (we’ve done the best we can to disentangle our lives from one another, which includes not following each others’ blogs), but this is for him anyways…a requiem for our relationship, for letting go of the weight of the care and the obligations that followed in its wake.

Ache’s end

My sweet ache
is gone.
Sweet and painful
caramel, honey
in a broken tooth.
You were with me
like a light cold
in the bones,
a rainy day gnawing.
An awareness
that would turn down
to a faint hum
to an edging of static.
This caring
colored my life,
a wine badly fermented
with sugar and vinegar
in suspension.
A body can grow used
to a weight,
used to limping
and find it hard
to learn again
to walk straight.

~Marge Piercy

timeline

Recently, I switched my Facebook profile to the Timeline format.  I resisted the change for awhile, thinking that it was better if some parts of my last few years remained in deep-storage.  But I knew that FB was going to force me onto Timeline soon enough anyways, so I decided it was time to set it up.

As I looked over at the early months of 2011, I was surprised at just how excited I was at everything I was experiencing–so many new places, new friends, roadtrips, adventures.  Wow (funny how I’d even forgotten many of the details, and just how close together many of those events actually occurred). I was a woman who was simply thirsty for everything–I think I must’ve hardly slept at all, I was moving and evolving so fast as I shed the trappings of marriage and everything else that had been holding me back..

But…perhaps what’s been most interesting to me about perusing the timeline and considering just how much my life has changed in the interim, is my near-silence about some important people that I met then–most specifically the person that I dated for many months, and who is now an integral part of my daily life.

And…I still don’t have a lot to share here (or on Facebook) on that topic.

Of course he’s a quiet presence in many of my tales and tweets and photos, and many of my “in-real-life” friends and extended family members have become acquainted with him over the past year.

But I find it a hard balance to share my personal life–a space intimately shared with my children and my partner–and my desire not to erode the singular identity that’s come at such a price over the past few years.  Added to that, is the fact that I no longer need the validation that comes from sharing certain personal happenings in a public venue.  Maybe that will change over time, but for now it feels right…
freedom

 

I am an inconvenient woman…

 

Lately I’ve been falling in love with Marge Piercy’s poems all over again…

An excerpt from “The nuisance”

I am an inconvenient woman.
I’d be more useful as a pencil sharpener or a cash register.
I do not love you the way I love Mother Jones or the surf coming in
or my pussycats or a good piece of steak.
I love the sun prickly on the black stubble of your cheek.
I love you wandering floppy making scarecrows of despair.
I love when you are discussing changes in the class structure
and it jams my ears and burns in the tips of my fingers…

I love you with my arms and my legs
and my brains and my cunt and my unseemly history.
I want to tell you about when I was ten and it thundered.
I want you to kiss the crosshatched remains of my burn.
I want to read you poems about drowning myself
laid like eggs without shells at fifteen under Shelley’s wings
I want you to read my old loverletters.

I want you to want me
as directly and simply and variously
as a cup of hot coffee.
To want to, to have to, to miss what can’t have room to happen.
I carry my love for you
around with me like my teeth
and I am starving.

doctor

One of the by-products of my recent-ish divorce is that I just barely got my own health insurance policy.  It’s the first time that I’ve had insurance on my own (not as the result of being a dependent of someone else), and seems a pretty big step for me in being financially and legally independent.

So recently I saw my new doctor for the first time.  I went specifically to get a prescription for some changes to my prosthesis.  When we met I explained to him exactly what I needed, gave him the contact info for my prosthetist, etc.  I didn’t expect for him to examine me, nor did I even sit on the exam table in the room.  Also, when he queried me about whether I was up to date on my vaccinations, I could tell that my reply left him a little bit speechless.

“How do you know so much about this stuff? He asked as he gestured to a screen on his computer showing checkboxes for my immunization record–just after I’d given him a 10-minute spiel about the Tdap vaccine.

“I’m a medical historian, with a strong research interest in resurgent disease.” I replied.

I must say, there’s something about going into a doc’s office with some confidence, knowing exactly what I need and how to get it, that tends to offset any anxiety that I feel from having had so much medical trauma in the past.  Perhaps it’s a bit intimidating for the physicians that I interact with–but I think they tend to find it rather refreshing among the garden-variety sore throats and coughs that they see all day long…

it is your nature…

When I was active in the LDS church and trying to make sense of the challenges of my life, one talk by an Apostle resonated with me particularly deeply. It was by Hugh B. Brown and used a metaphor of a currant bush that was pruned so it might produce better fruit. In that talk Brown discussed some professional opportunities that he lost as a result of his adherence to the LDS church and praised God for not letting him be successful and affluent. He wrote:

I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.

And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.”…
And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.”

I was reminded of that talk as I read a Marge Piercy poem this morning…

A work of artifice

The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have gown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he
whittles back the branches
the gardener croons,
It is your nature
to be small and cozy.
domestic and weak;
how lucky, little tree.
to have a pot to grow in.
With living creatures
one must begin very early
to dwarf their growth:
the bound feet,
the crippled brain,
the hair in curlers.
the hands you
love to touch.

I wonder sometimes, if my life had held different contours and experiences, would I have been a statuesque tree on a hillside?

Or is there something more beautiful to a life where one’s branches have been clipped (over and over again), and yet there are blossoms every spring?