Category Archives: Current Events

I Can’t Live If Living is Without You, Downton Abbey

When it comes to Downton Abbey, you’re either in love with it or you have no idea what it is. I fall into the former category. I cannot get enough of Downton Abbey. I love watching the show, I love chatting about the show with friends, and I love convincing people that they, too, should jump on the Downton Abbey watching train.

Downton Abbey came into my life on a lazy Sunday. I had no intention of leaving my bed and was therefore looking for something enthralling to watch on Netflix. Netflix suggested that I watch Season 1 of Downton Abbey. I had remembered seeing a lot of buzz about the show on Twitter (in part because I  wondered why so people were misspelling the word “downtown”) and was in the mood for a good British costume drama.

From the moment I saw the beautiful opening titles with the beautiful music and shots of Highclere Castle, I was hooked. Then, the show’s story lines began unravelling and I became obsessed. I can’t believe the heirs to Downton Abbey went down in the Titanic. Poor Mr. Pamuk. Why won’t Anna and Bates get together already? Why is Thomas made of pure evil? What is a weekend? How could Edith expose her sister Mary’s secret? Why do I have such a crush on Matthew Crawley? Will Matthew and Mary end up together? Between the scandals, the romance, the plotting, the costumes, and the scenery, I ended up watching the entire first season in one sitting.

Now that Season 2 has come and gone, I don’t know how I’m going to get my Downton Abbey fix. There are only so many times a person can re-watch the seasons. Already I’ve re-watched Matthew’s proposal to Mary a good 15 times or so. I could always print off the Downton Abbey paper dolls and come up with my own story lines, but I’m not 12. There’s always Vanity Fair‘s Downton Abbey trading cards. They might bring some Downtonian joy into my life. I even taught myself how to play the theme song on the piano, so a little more practice couldn’t hurt. But let’s face it, nothing short of watching Season 3 will satisfy my Downton Abbey cravings and Season 3 doesn’t air until January. Why do you make us wait so long, PBS? WHY?!

I guess I’m just going to have to come to terms with the fact that Downton Abbey won’t be back on my television for another 11 months. Instead of focusing on the giant void the show’s absence has left, I’ll instead focus on the joy the show brought into my life. I’m thankful for the time we shared and look forward to another season. In the mean time, I’ll just have to get some new hobbies.

Write Me When You Get To Liverpool

At the end of a visit with my grandma, just before we’d go our separate ways, she’d shower me with affection and leave me with a few words of wisdom. One of her favorite things to say before parting was “Skriv till mig när du kommer till Liverpool.” This phrase was Swedish for “Write me when you get to Liverpool.” It was something her mother, who emigrated from Sweden to Wisconsin at age 15, always said to her and in fact, it was what her mother urged her when she set off for America. At the time my great-grandmother set sail for America, the major hub for ships was Liverpool. Liverpool would have been the last city where she could have written home to alert her family of her whereabouts and general state of things before heading to America. “Write me when you get to Liverpool” was their way of saying, “Call me when you get there.” My grandma often used it in a “don’t be a stranger” kind of way. It’s stuck and I often say to people in my family, “Write me when you get to Liverpool” whenever they go on a trip.

As I’ve been preparing to move to New York City and saying goodbye to friends, I find myself using archaic sayings to people when we part. I don’t really like to say things like, “Goodbye, I’ll miss you” or “stay in touch.” At this point in my life, I am surrounded by people who I will always remain close with, so I don’t need to remind them to stay in touch, as we always will. I also don’t like sentimental goodbyes around the time of an exciting move. Sentimental goodbyes imply that something sad is happening and actually, this move is quite the opposite. Instead of sappy goodbyes, I find myself saying, “If you’re ever in Manhattan, look me up.” Like someone could grab a White Pages in Manhattan and be able to find me listed there. It’s also my way of reminding people, “Hey! You now have a friend in New York! Use that to your advantage.”

Similar to “look me up,” I also enjoy saying, “Drop me a line.” These days it’s fairly easy to drop someone a line via text message, Facebook, Twitter, and [insert your favorite social network here], but I envision the line to be dropped in the form of a hand written note. As if a friend in town would write me a note (preferably on parchment paper with the help of a quill) alerting them of their whereabouts and I would then meet them at some dark bistro in Manhattan for a drink and a meeting of the minds.

I’m not one for sappy, dramatic goodbyes. Instead, I prefer a simple “see you later” or “look me up” to remind my loved ones that really, nothing’s going to change except the distance between our respective houses. However, I do promise that I will write when I get to Liverpool.

We Tell Ourselves Stories In Order to Live

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live…We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of multiple choices. We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the ‘ideas’ with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience.” –Joan Didion, The White Album

I’ve been thinking about these words from Joan Didion a lot lately as I’ve been preparing to move to New York. While I’m incredibly excited to move into my new apartment in New York, the prospect of carving out an entirely new life for myself is a little overwhelming at times. I’m leaving behind the comforts of a job, health insurance, and my childhood home in search of new opportunities that I haven’t secured yet. At the same time, this is all incredibly exciting. I will be a resident of Manhattan, something I’ve only ever dreamed about. 

In order to maintain the excitement of possibility and to forget about the worries that surround moving to a new city with no job in tough economic times, I focus on the narrative. Instead of focusing on how I am plucking myself from a comfortable life and catapulting myself into a new city filled with unknowns, I tell myself stories about what my new life in New York could be like. It’s these little stories that get me through the day-to-day details of facilitating a move and the anxiety of not having a job or insurance two weeks from now. Here are some of the little stories I tell myself as I pack up my belongings and give away clothes I don’t need:

  • You can work at the Gap and work your way into the fashion world. 
  • You can nanny and be the next Mary Poppins for a family on the Upper East Side
  • Moving to a new city is like that time you studied abroad, but without the hassle of going through customs or changing your currency. 
  • Just fake it ‘til you make it. 
  • Give it two years and if you have a terrible time, you can always move back to Wisconsin and live in the country. 
  • All of the east coast is at your disposal: eat lobsters in Maine, visit old friends in Boston, eat clams on the shores of Rhode Island, pop down to Washington DC and say hello to your representative, check out North Carolina, gamble in Atlantic City.

Maybe none of these imagined stories about my new life in New York will ever come true, but telling them is enough to keep me plugging along on this new journey. Something will eventually pan out and when it does, I will be looking for a new narrative to keep me going.

A New Year Brings New Things

I’ve never been one for making New Year’s Resolutions. I’ve always operated under the notion that if you want to make a change, then make it already. You don’t need to wait for a new year to begin in order to make positive life changes (or any life changes for that matter). In fact, I prefer to make life changes whenever I feel so inclined. If that happens around the time of a new year, then it is only a matter of coincidence.

While I’ve never really made formal New Year’s Resolutions, I have often made lists titled “Things I Must Do.” These lists functioned as big ideas that when completed would contribute to my overall quality of life. Tasks such as “be outside,” “go to new restaurants,” get my driver’s license,” “buy good photography to hang up,” “watch classic ’80s films, “read poetry suggested by my professor,” “buy a Mates of State album” were all examples of things that I felt compelled to do in order to bring myself to the next level of awesomeness -at-life.

Now that it is 2012 and many things still remain on my “Things I Must Do” list, I’ve opted for a slightly different approach at accomplishing these “big idea tasks.” Instead of debating back and forth and spending hours agonizing over  what to do next, I’ve simply picked something I’ve always wanted to do and made that my number one priority. For me, that something is moving to New York City. So instead of talking about taking action, I took action and will be moving there next month.  Though this change coincides a little with the start of a new year, the passing of another year has only signified to me that I don’t want any more time to pass without making a move.

So, here’s to 2012! I hope that before the year’s end, you can accomplish some of your “big idea tasks.” Whenever you feel so inclined, of course.

I Love It When You Retweet Me

“Will our tales of digital courtship capture the imaginations of our daughters? Will they be impressed when we tell them about that time the text message was misinterpreted, or how the cute boy re-tweeted our Vampire Weekend reference? Will they care?”–Charlotte Alter, “Guns, Ammo, Romance?” Published November 17th in the New York Times.

Romance in the digital age.

When I was small, I never imagined that my heart would palpitate at the sight of an instant message from my real life crush’s screenname, an unexpected text message from a beau, or a retweet. Sometimes it creeps me out how much of a thrill I get from connections in the digital world while ignoring what is lacking in the actual world. A retweet? That’s all I get? No handwritten letter? No surprise visit? No stroll down the lane? No reading sonnets aloud by the fire? No fortepiano duets? No froggy went a-courtin’? Sometimes, I think I was born in the wrong era.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think any of this is any one particular person’s fault, it’s just a sign of our times. Things progress as they always do, but I’m just a little disappointed that my stories of romance will never rival the ones my grandma told. I can just picture the tales of romance I’ll recount to my grandchildren some day:

“Hey kids, you want to hear about romance? Let me show you my gchat history! You’ll read some very romantic exchanges in there!”
“Grandma, why is there a 30 minute time-lapse between responses?”
“Oh never you mind. Want to read some of my old text messages? See there was this boy and he texted me to ask me how my day was going and…”
“Let it rest, Grandma.”
“I think I have one love letter somewhere…”
“We’ll take your word for it.”

No, I imagined my stories of romance would be more like my grandma’s. Tales of being escorted home from school by a handsome boy; letters from the WWII front; a man who demanded to paint her portrait, a portrait which hung in her house for 50 years; the man she met at a church fair who later became my grandpa.

While all of these things are all still possible, technology has taken away the urgency of face-to-face contact. As an obsessed avid iPhone user, I definitely enjoy a surprise text or tweet, but it doesn’t really make for a great story. I don’t quite know what the answer is, except that I want stories that could at least be in the same category as those tales of romance my grandma once told me.  In the meantime, I guess I’ll settle for a retweet.

Wisconsin Ain’t No Flyover State

“Wisconsin. That’s in Michigan, right?”

Once, on my family’s annual family vacation to New Hampshire, a kid asked me where I was from. I of course responded with, Wisconsin. Without skipping a beat, he responded, that’s in Michigan, right? I never forgot the disgust I felt that someone my age (11) had no idea where Wisconsin was located. Didn’t they have social studies classes in New England? Aren’t you required to locate all the fifty states on a map at least once in your childhood? Have you not watched a single episode of Schoolhouse Rock?

They don't even serve this where you're from.

Fast forward 17 years and I’m sure that boy now has a clear idea of where Wisconsin is located. I doubt he’s ever visited, because after all, what coastie would be caught dead hanging out in a flyover state?

Consider this article, “Just Tossing Around the Old Bag of Corn” that appeared in the New York Times a few weeks ago. The article goes into detail about how New Yorkers are really getting into a game that we’ve been playing around these parts for decades. It’s how I imagine Columbus’s reports of the New World would have sounded to the people that he “discovered.” Dude, we’ve been saying the same thing for centuries. You didn’t discover cornhole, we did.

This is still "the beach."

My favorite is a recent post written by Wisconsin to New York transplant Megan L. Wood in The Awl called, “It’s Cute That New York is Catching Up to Wisconsin.” It expresses similar thoughts on how people in New York are now just discovering “new trends” that Wisconsinites have been setting for years.

It’s time to set the record straight. Wisconsin ain’t no flyover state, it is the real deal. You know you love us and secretly wish that you could be more like us. It’s time to put an end to that ridiculous nickname and realize that things that happen in Wisconsin are as relevant as things that happen on the coasts. Sometimes, even more so.

Since 1844!

If you still need convincing that Wisconsin ain’t all that, then I’d like to ask you a few questions. First of all, has your state been brewing Pabst Blue Ribbon since before it was an official state? Did Laura Ingalls Wilder grow up in a log cabin deep in the woods of your state which served as the inspiration for her Little House on the Prairie series which later became a hit television series starring Michael Landon? Were duck boat tours started in your state? Is America’s Largest Water Park in your neck of the woods? How many publicly owned sports teams does your state have? Can you buy alcohol on Sundays? Was America’s first kindergarten in your home state? Does your state deep fry everything and then serve it with a side of cheese? Can you host a tailgate party at all of your local sports venues? Does your state have this many breweries? When President Obama wishes us all a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays this year from the White House, will he do so against the backdrop of the White House Christmas tree, cut from the forests of your state?

Oh and did your state do this?

Wisconsin “Budget Repair Bill” Protest from Matt Wisniewski on Vimeo.

Goodbye Borders, Hello Independent Bookstores?

With today’s announcement that Borders will close the last of its 399 stores, I couldn’t help but wonder, does this mean the return of independent bookstores? I can’t say I’m exactly sad to see Borders go as I’ve always been a huge supporter of the smaller, mom-and-pop bookstores, but I do feel for the Borders employees who will lose their jobs.

The closing of Borders represents the larger picture of the changing book industry and I don’t like the direction in which it is going. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer real books over their electronic form. I will always own more books than I know what to do with and I will always go out and buy more. You will never see me reading a book on a Kindle or an iPad. I’ll even take that a step further and say that I don’t buy books over the internet. When it comes to buying books, I am all about going to the local, independent bookstore and physically browsing through their collection.

Sure, I could find and buy every book I’d ever want online, but part of the fun of finding a book is the hunt! Will this bookstore have the book I want? What will I do if they don’t have the book I’m looking for? I have to say, my local bookstore has rarely let me down. Many times I stepped into Borders and the book I wanted wasn’t there. That same book could be found on the shelves of my local, independent bookstore.

It’s such a treat to be able to browse through the local bookstore. From the moment I walk through the front doors of my bookstore, I know I’m taking part in something good. From the friendly, quirky, and very knowledgable booksellers to the handwritten book recommendations and the quiet lull of the store to the plush furniture on which you can skim through a book, the bookstore creates an enjoyable reading environment that can never be duplicated online.

The closing of Borders marks a turning point in the book industry and I’m hoping that it will also be a turning point for independent bookstores. The art of physically choosing a book from a bookshelf and holding it in your hands should never die. Instead of virtually browsing and buying a book, why not pick a book from the shelves of a wise and friendly bookseller in your own community?

Happy Birthday To Me

Thursday’s child has far to go. – “Monday’s Child

June 2nd, 1983.

Today, I turn twenty-OLD. Today is also a Thursday, the actual day of the week on which I was born. That should count for something. Another fun fact about today, my mom graduated from high school on this day in history. Somewhere in the ’60s, to be exact. I once came across her high school diploma while digging for my old ’80s toys in the attic (I am so nostalgic) and confirmed this fact. I thought it was a weird coincidence that she happened to graduate from high school on a day that would become very significant later in her life. She did not share my sentiments. No problem, I’ve always been the more nostalgic one.

In the spirit of being nostalgic and in honor of June 2nd, high school graduations, and the fact that it’s my birthday so I can write about whatever I want, I would like to take you on a quick trip down memory lane. Below is a birthday reflection I wrote in 2001, straight from the pages of my high school diary (which means it was written in pink ink.) I wrote this entry the night before my 18th birthday and a week before I graduated from high school:

June 1st, 2001

Dear Journal,

Wow, it’s all finally over. I can’t believe it. I’m sad because this is a happy and sad time. I’ve finally made it, yet I can’t imagine my life any different than it is right now. I love this life. I love my friends, I love the routine of going to school and seeing people. I love going out on weekends with friends. I’m going to miss everyone so much. 

Tomorrow I turn 18! I can’t believe it! Time really flies.

I cried in class today thinking about how it is over. I’m so excited, but sad at the same time.  All of these great memories are truly in the past. I am going to miss all of the people.

Well, that is all.

Love, 

Sonja

All that yearning for days gone by and I hadn’t even officially turned 18 yet! In my defense, I don’t think I actually cried in class. It was probably just forced silent tears for dramatic effect.

It’s always fun to see what you were thinking at a given moment in time. On my birthday, I like to reflect on what I’ve accomplished thus far and what I would like to accomplish in the coming year. I also like to take the day off. Today being my day off and the day I turn twenty-old, I raise my glass of whiskey to all of you and hope that you have a wonderful day. I know I will.

Disclaimer: In spite of the fact that I’m turning 28 (there I said, it) today, many days I still feel like I’m this age:

Support Refugees Worldwide, Get a Blue Key

The camp population is still growing, topping 17,000- a small city. Day starts early, with a long trip along the brackish marshland, through whitewashed villages, to the border,  and then all day in the sun and wind,  thousands of  anxious, tired, hungry, people desperate to go home or, in some cases,  anywhere else.  Hearing the stories of those coming out of Libya, the depth and sheer brutality of the racial  discrimination there,  even more than the violence, makes you angry at the regime. One Eritrean could not even bring himself to speak of the humiliation he had experienced. -Andrew Purvis, UNHCR worker, “Diary from the Field: Excerpts from Tunisia.

A few weeks ago, I was particularly struck by this particular post on Spin Sucks: “Get Your Blue Key In Support of World Refugee Day.” This post shed light on the Blue Key campaign which supports the 43 million refugees around the world and the workers at the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission for Refugees) who support them. For $5, you get a blue key to show solidarity for refugees and those who care for them.

Upon reading this post, I immediately thought, there’s absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t do this. I can certainly spare $5 to show my support of the world’s most vulnerable population. It’s the least I can do. As much as I may gripe about what I like to call “first world problems,” I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be forced from my home and then subjected to unthinkable violence. There is simply no comparison in our own experiences to the experiences of refugees.

Who are the world’s refugees? (Facts courtesy of the UNHCR.)

Ivorian refugees in Liberia, awaiting registration. Source: USA for UNHCR Facebook Page

  • 43 million people worldwide have been forced out of their homes since 2009.
  • Of these 43 million people, over 26 million people have received aid and protection from the UNHCR.
  • Around 41%  of the world’s refugees are children under the age of 18, 11% are under the age of 5.
  • 47% of refugees are women and girls.

What Can I Do To Help?

  1. Get a blue key. Show your support for refugees by sporting a blue key.
  2. Spread the word about the blue key campaign on Facebook and Twitter. Donate a tweet a day.
  3. Follow the USA for UNHCR on Facebook to get frequent updates on their work.

Thank you for your help in spreading the word about this great cause and helping the blue key campaign reach its goal of distributing 6,000 keys by World Refugee Day on June 20th.

 

Even Your First (Celebrity) Crush Grows Up and Gets Married One Day

Everyone that knew me well in my early high school days knew that Prince William was my first and most major celebrity crush. If you can remember back to how girls were at that age, you might remember that having a crush was serious stuff. Us adolescent girls were devoted to our crushes and we did not keep our devotions a secret. At our lunch table, my girlfriends and I gabbed about our latest crushes, both celebrity and non-celebrity, over peanut butter sandwiches and cookies. Prince William was the object of my affection and naturally I talked about my crush all of the time. Did you see Prince William on the cover of YM? I love him. I can’t wait to join the Royal Family one day.  I even talked about this crush to the school newspaper. For a symposium published around the time of the Homecoming dance, I was asked, “Who would you most like to take to the school dance and why?” I answered:

Forget about sounding self-centered and shallow, I wanted the world to know that I intended to become the next Princess of Wales. I had a serious crush here!

Then, of course, as my crush on Prince William grew, so did the collection of pictures of him plastered around my room. I devoted one closet door in my bedroom to a Prince William collage, which I adorned with magazine and newspaper cutouts and printed pictures from the Internet. (I had to stop printing color pictures from the Internet after I was reprimanded for using up too much ink in the family printer). Take a look:

The nice thing about having a well-known celebrity crush is that your friends start to pick up on the fact and then they give you pictures they’d saved from their teen magazines and newspapers. They might even buy you posters of your crush or copies of magazines featuring a story on your crush. My sister was kind enough to give me a Prince William poster as a Christmas present. Naturally, I hung the poster above my bed:

Along with verbal devotion and pictorial shrines, there was of course written devotion to the crush. I wrote unabashedly about my love for Prince William in my diary. I even scrawled Sonja + Prince William on the inside front cover. (Other names had to be crossed out for that.) See for yourself:

                     

Of course, crushes don’t last forever and eventually, even I outgrew my crush on Prince William. I moved on from the celebrity crush phase and scoped out the boys sitting next to me in my classes. Magazine cutouts were replaced by photographs on my bedroom wall. I let go of my desire to become the next Princess of Wales and focused instead on joining as many extracurriculars that my schedule would permit.

I never thought about Prince William again until last year, when Prince William and longtime girlfriend Kate Middleton, announced their engagement. I couldn’t help but think about myself as a fourteen year-old girl. My fourteen year-old self would have been devastated by this news. I probably would have ripped down my Prince William collage in a fit of anger. What do you mean MY crush is getting married?!  Thinking about that version of myself made me smile. There is something wonderful about having a teenage crush. The feelings of having a crush at fourteen can never be replicated. There is an innocence in believing that you can have strong feelings for someone you’ve never met and that simply having strong feelings is enough to give you a chance with a total stranger like Prince William. Once you’re older and realize how silly that idea is, there’s no way to return to that innocence.

Or is there? Enter Prince William’s wedding day. I woke up at 4:15 in the morning and watched Prince William’s wedding ceremony live. I put on a dress and a fancy hat and headed over to the local British pub for a viewing party. I wanted to watch the wedding as a nod to my fourteen year-old self and the faded collage that still covers one closet door in my childhood bedroom.  In that brief moment of watching the ceremony, I returned to that innocence of being a fourteen year-old girl with a crush. It was the perfect epilogue to a much earlier chapter in my life.

I raise my glass to you, Prince William!