A Displaced Person...

It's holiday card season! I love holiday cards, and our recent marriage means that the Grige and I have gotten a LOT of them for the first time on our own. It's very exciting. However, I have an observation to make:

There is a thing, with addresses, where people send things to us as "Mr. and Mrs. Grige E. Fisk". I would really like someone to explain this to me. Is it just a convention that has hung on for no real reason? Is there a good reason that we can't just abolish it? Why do sane and reasonable people whom I love still do this?

It doesn't make any sense. I'm perfectly comfortable receiving mail as "Mr. and Mrs. Fisk", that is a good way to shorten us to our married titles. I'm not going to get up on my high horse and complain about the fact that no one cares that I would prefer to use Ms. instead of Mrs. But, if there is room for the Grige's middle initial, there is sure as hell room for my first name.

I'm sure the people who address things this way don't mean to upset me. But if no one ever says anything about the passive subversion of women's worth - my worth - that it implies, they'll never know how much it offends me. Choosing to take the Grige's last name was a hard enough decision for me, and one I'm still not wholly comfortable with. Receiving mail addressed to me as "Mrs. Grige" is like getting slapped in the face. It makes me feel like I no longer exist.

At first, I wanted to justify my anger by saying that I am and always have been the higher earner in our household. Paired with the Grige's debt and my lack thereof, higher earner has been equivalent to "breadwinner" for the last few years, way before we were married. Ergo, I deserve to have my name on the envelope, and maybe people should just start sending things to us as "Mrs. and Mr. Emily Fisk"

However vindicated that argument might make me feel, it's just another layer on the problem cake. Any wife, no matter what form her contributions to the household come in, deserves to have her name on her mail. The end.

So, I'll be spending the remainder of my funemployment contemplating a good way to address (ha! pun.) this with my loved ones. You know, feminist baby steps. 

A Song

Because it's been a sad weekend, and I don't have a kid to hug.

This is Tiger Mountain Peasant Song. Originally done by Fleet Foxes, and covered beautifully by First Aid Kit and less beautifully by me. But, you know, self esteem! and stuff.

Also, I kind of wanted an excuse to try uploading video via blogger. It's a total miracle that my dinosaur of a computer will do this at all, but pardon the quality anyhow. 

I could have...

Flown to the east coast myself and delivered my gifts personally for what I just spent on shipping. Sorry friends, you'll be receiving gifts that can be sent with Amazon Prime from here on out. Otherwise, UPS costs will make us ho-ho-homeless.

In other news, the Brentwood Target is sold out of Pandora One gift cards (Hey Pandora! Sell those at more than one retailer next year, OKAY?). They are also sold out of wrapping paper and Christmas themed gift cards (I had to buy Valentines day ones) and people in the toy section will literally ram you with their carts to get the last pink iPod shuffle. To top it all off, as I was leaving (rather disgruntled, as you might imagine) two people literally got out of their cars to fight over my parking spot.

Game, set, match. You win, Target. I am staying safely inside for the duration of the holiday season and praising the lord for Amazon Prime.

God Bless Us, Every One.

On the 16th Day of Christmas...

I realized that my true love might need a little help with ideas about what to get me.

The Grige is still knee deep in grad school, so I'm mostly just hoping that he remembers to get me anything at all at this point. In any case, here's what's on my list this year:

1. New boots: In DC, improper footwear was like my winter calling card. After living in Michigan my whole life, I never really felt like the weather in DC merited more than a pair of ballet flats or rubber flip-flops (you know, when it rained). I was wrong then, and it would be wrong now. I need some winter boots that are both warm and hip, and these two fit the bill.

The Sperry Hikerfish boots

The North Face Snowtropolis series boots

Pro-tip - I chose lace-up boots because my calves are huge. If you're buying for someone else, knowing this can be helpful. North Face makes some beautiful lace-less boots in this same style, but I'm sure they'd never fit around my tree-trunk calves. Laces also make it easier to fit your jeans into your boots, if that's your style.

2. Jewels. I always love to get "fun" jewelry for the holidays. I like pieces that aren't too expensive but really make a statement. Anthropologie has some beautiful necklaces which are uncharacteristically reasonably priced this season. I'd suggest checking them out. Of course, the one I'm in love with is priced right around $250. Tears of an emily :-(

 

3. New Skis. I've been riding a pair of men's Fischer race tune giant slalom skis the last 7 years. They're in excellent condition because I've been tuning them myself before and after each outing, but the fact remains that they are extremely aggressive, rigid, really, really long men's skis. They're fast as heck but not much fun outside of a race course. Since I haven't really raced in at least 5 years, they're not really a great ski for me anymore.  

Here they are!

So picking a new ski is something I should really do for myself, but volkl has a few models I'm quite fond of. Mostly, I need something that's flexible, built for a woman's center of gravity, wide enough to handle powder but mostly focused on shredding somewhere between 160 and 166 cm long.  I'm not going to speculate on what skis I should buy, but it would be nice if someone took me out for a demo day...

So that's my list! What's on yours?

On the 6th Day of Christmas

The Internets gave to me....

This amazing tumblr and a partridge in a pear tree. Thanks, McV.

I don't think that the Grige is going to build me a table this holiday season, but I am attempting to get him some fun gifts. Here's a little round up of some fun things I'm wanting to buy my bearded man.

1. A plaid shirt, to make him look like a lumberjack.

2. This way cool drafting chair in mint green by Humanscale. The architect needs somewhere comfy to rest his buns during those late nights in studio.

3. A beard comb, like this mansome handmade tortoise one from Swissco. His beard has gotten very long, and while I love running my fingers through it's multi-colored luxuriousness, he needs something more professional to deal with it.

4. Clark's Desert Boots. These are the original, and I adore this pebbled suede. Warm tootsies are definitely the key to a happy Grige

5. Cool, new prescription sunglasses from Warby Parker. Their prices can't be beat, and my be-spectacled gentleman will love some extra protection from the sun. Their virtual try-on feature will help me find the perfect pair.

6. A little something to help him relax...

So what's on your list this year?

A Note On Style

You will rarely hear me say much about personal style. I have a few opinions, but they're generally safe, oft-shared opinions that I parrot like the proper woman-blogger that I am. But today, I have a general style note, specifically aimed at PBS. Hold on to your hems, because it's a three-parter.

I'm presently watching (mostly because I'm so horrified that I can't look away) Celtic Woman: A Christmas Celebration on PBS.

1. It's not only un-flattering, but actually just completely in bad taste to put 20-30+ year-old talented female vocalists in pastel colored prom dresses for a Christmas special. I understand that you may be trying to get away from "the little black dress", but you're undermining their talent by making their appearance not only un-seasonable, but also laughable. it looks like a high school prom. Which usually only takes place in May.

They are not wearing those wraps right now...

2. If you insist on the bevy of strapless pastel prom dresses, learn to properly film such a dress. I understand that you're trying to avoid the inherent sexy-ness of the vocalists' heaving bosoms, but by avoiding the bust line, you're making them all look naked. So please, at least attempt to get the top of the dress in the shot. You're making an already bad style situation far worse.

Imagine this if you cut them all off above the bust line...

3. Is that the front-woman from the Dixie Chicks? If so... how the mighty have fallen. I think it's not though... at least the internet doesn't think so. I was truly frightened for a moment.

Color me horrified. 

Walter the Turkey

You can brine if you want to
You can leave your friends behind
Because your friends don't brine and if they don't brine
Well they're no friends of mine.

I say, we can brine where we want to
a place where they will never find
and we can act like we come from a pre-grocery store world
leave the real one far behind
and we can brine...

Happy two days before Thanksgiving! I'm filled with joy and excitement, because I picked up Walter, our fresh, organic, free range turkey earlier today. I strapped him lovingly into the backseat of the car and we sang along to Men Without Hats the whole way home. He's now resting peacefully in his brine, with visions of my roasting pan and all the joy he will bring dancing in his head.

Walter. Obscured by brine and intoxicated by instagram filters.

I freaking love Thanksgiving, but I won't expand on our menu because I have too much cooking to get back to. Suffice it to say that at our house, the November issue of Bon Appetit is met with more squeals than a Justin Beiber concert. My table-scape is set, Walter is brining, anything that can be pre-made has been, and I have a two page schedule taped to my cupboards to make sure everything runs smoothly on Thursday. I can't freaking wait.

As an aside, I want to say a few words about Walter, since he's already met his maker, and will be meeting our tummies in a few days. Walter is from Whole Foods, where, until today, I felt confident that I could buy a reasonably local turkey, pre-ordered for convenience and never frozen. While the convenience and un-frozen requirements were certainly met, I discovered that Walter is from Grand Rapids, Michigan.

I am also from that area of Michigan, and four of the people who will soon be noshing on Walter are coming from there too, increasing Walter's carbon footprint to a size I'm uncomfortable with. I live in Missouri! This is about as farm-y as it gets, and I really can't understand why I couldn't get a turkey from a farm around here. Instead, my family and Walter travelled separately from the same place to get to my table, and that upsets me. If I had known this was the best option, I would have had my family pick him up and drive him down themselves. Or, I would have just gone to the farmers market and braved the crowds to get a local Tom. Ugh. Frustrating.

Anyhow, Walter is a special bird, and I'm glad he's with us. I just with he could have travelled with family instead of in a truck.

Off to add my stinky hippie tears to the brine....