A Middle-Aged, Non-Crisis Type Thing

This is me, being 30.

I LOVE THAT CARDIGAN.
Birthday present to myself, purchased on the most fantastic ladies' weekend before my birthday.
Extremely worth it.

In 2013, Rilo Kiley released rkives. That year I walked a lot, listening to the dying strains of my favorite band while anticipating what I thought would be my final Seattle summer bloom. The best stretches of my walks reached over I-5, strips of sidewalk where I could lean over and gaze on downtown to the distant south. One day, I moseyed back home after watching a movie in a theatre that would later become one of my places, and "A Town Called Luckey" came on.

"Happy Birthday, you're halfway to sixty...."

I immediately whipped out my phone, scrolling about six years in the future on my Google calendar, and added a new event:

I set it so I got an email AND a notification, just in case I forgot I was getting monumentally older.

And now, I've crossed that event off my list.

I listened to a lot of Jenny Lewis on my birthday.* I made healthy choices, I taught adolescents how to write, I ate a burger so good it almost inspires weeping. **

The most extraordinary thing is how ordinary it feels. No massive rift as one decade moves into the next. No earth shattering moments, leaving an unblemished goddess surrounded by the ruins of my twenties. Just...me. Who I am. What I have. Life going on as marvelously normal as ever.

Thirty is good so far. Twenty-nine was great. Things are ...dare I say?... going well.

I do have plans for shattering life the tiniest bit this year. But, at the risk of exposing my overly-sentimental marshmallow core, as long as I've got these two people in my life, it's fine. 

Seriously, it was one of the best birthdays. Sun! Food! Family! Yes, in that order!

I'm halfway to sixty, and apologies to Ms. Lewis, but I don't have to sing myself towards freedom. I've found myself. Happy.

29. 28. 27. 26. 25.

*It doesn't hurt that her latest album is FANTASTIC.

**See? I did plan a whole dinner this year! Uneeda=manna from the gods.

2018, In Many Words (And Phone Pictures)

It's popular to look back on 2018 as a dumpster fire. And yes, in the worldwide sense, it was. Somehow, beyond the scope of my imagination for the capacity of evil/party loyalty, Trump is still president. Hordes of broke Millennials are accused of lazy solipsism, while facing a world priced beyond what we even could have dreamed. And I'm living in Seattle, a city facing the hotbed of tech bro boomtown and Bezos greed.

And yet, 2018 was personally fantastic.

It was... comfortable. There's not much else to it. I keep wondering when I will stop being surprised that I'm an adult. This year I lived the closest to my ideal life. That's doing pretty well in my opinion.

So if you're so inclined, sit back and bask in what a year of Fairly Idyllic Cat Life©  looks like. At least according to the photos I took, because heaven knows I don't keep a diary, and heaven knows my mind...you know, I wish I could say that it isn't what it used to be, but honestly that ol' brain has been gone for as long as I can remember. So yes. Can't rely on the whole "memory" thing. All praise camera phones.

January

I am halfway through a year of exercising a half hour a day, five days a week. For the first time, I start lifting weights. I surprisingly like it. My mom visits town, and by the time she leaves my house looks cleaner, and Alex gets her first haircut and increases her vocabulary and knowledge level by about 100% (that may be an exaggeration). Taylor and I see Queens of the Stone Age for the second time. I didn't think anything could beat the first, where I was about fifteen feet away from Josh and died, but by the end of the night my socks are still rocked all the way off.




February

Alex gets old enough to wear pigtails. I run tech for my school's musical for the last time (but shh, they don't know that yet). I'm reminded yet again that sound crew is the best crew in drama. College friend Gary visits, and on what I swear is the coldest day of the year we take him to all the beaches (3) in our neighborhood. It is freezing. Foolish. Misguided. But oh my, what views!

Taylor and I try to beat the Seattle winter blues by abandoning our child and spending five days in Austin, TX. This plan backfires, as Austin shows off its overcast and foggy splendor. As a result, it pretty much feels like we spend five childless days in Seattle. We still find ourselves enchanted by Texas pride (tempered with a heavy dose of hippie-dom), Sixth Street, street art, and tacos. We also check out San Antonio and the Alamo. I fall in love with a grilled cheese brisket sandwich. My love is real. Lasting. I still think of that sandwich weekly.

March

I run a 5k! This feels like (and is) a huge accomplishment for this former couch potato. I celebrate by eating chocolate. Surprisingly, I don't completely stop running.

It seems like it gets a little warmer and sunnier. As a family, we visit Hendrix's grave and the Ballard Locks. My friend Liz moves here from Boston, which is a personal delight and a writing motivator. High school friend and forever favorite Ashley visits for an art conference. Using her shoes, I take what may be the best photo of Alex. It's my screen background at work to this day. Alex goes on her first Easter egg hunt. She eats too many jelly beans. Her inner sugar monster is revealed, much to my ongoing chagrin.

April

Card from a student.
They're nice sometimes.

I turn 29. It's whatever.

Alex and I visit my family in Utah, which is shockingly beautiful. It's my first trip where I am not angry at Utah whatsoever. Basking in the beauty of the mountains with no bitterness is a revelation. Again, Alex's learning increases tenfold. She leaves Utah with bounteous books and a new fascination with sea creatures.

May

My sister-in-law Leila visits to present in WE Day, with two of her kids in tow. Alex enjoys cousin time, and starts getting incredibly attached to them. I enjoy a marvelous dinner that leaves me professionally invigorated. For the first time in forever, I start getting excited about future career prospects, and I to understand what I enjoy in a job.

Oh, and Free Comic Book Day happens. I load up on comics. All is well.




June

Magical month! The school year winds down, and I stop teaching pretty much immediately, in favor of a self-guided project that lets students do what they please so I can clean up my room. The last week is pure perfection, which I've written about before, but I can't gush about the Boothbay Literacy Conference enough. It was the ideal way to decompress and feel excited about teaching again after a long, morose year. It was the ideal way to discover myself again, by solo-vacationing and remembering how I function outside a family unit (essentially the same, but with more pondering and spontaneity). It was the ideal way to remember what I love about the East Coast, something that's not difficult to do when you are staying on a resort with plenty of rocky beaches to scramble over.

July

I sink into the glorious lifestyle of summer Cat. Seattle sort of starts to get warm. I cut all my hair off. Don't ask me how, but that's the first step in my body feeling familiar. I'm at home in my skin for the first time since getting pregnant. My mental identity finally begins to resemble reality. I brunch with friends. I go to movies. I read books outdoors and play on beaches. Basically—I partake in every favorite activity. Life is a dream

I run a second 5K, like I'm some kind of marvelous athlete. Afterwards, they give me Swedish pancakes and I'm completely satisfied. Summer with Alex is pure bliss. We visit my family in Utah for two weeks, and she basks in the attention from cousins and uncles and aunts. I bask in the mountains, spending more time up there in the two weeks I visit than I did probably my entire high school career. What a waste.

August

Alex turns two! She's so old. She immediately turns into a whiny monster, but an easily distracted whiny monster, so she's still amazing (just more work). I start to get the jitters about returning to a non-blissfully luxurious life. The best parts of August: visiting favorite beaches, exploring tide pools, seeing Andrew Bird and the Punch Brothers, and spending time with people I love. The worst parts of August: the last two weeks. In the wake of fires, smoke settles over Seattle. We live in a post-apocalyptic haze. The populace take to wearing dust masks, which only enhances the sensation that the world is ending. It portends my dread, since my summer world is ending. I sink into pre-school year melancholy.

September

Ruining every previous record, I have my first sobbing breakdown four days in to the school year. Usually that takes until the end of October, but this year I miss summer so acutely I can hardly stand it. I'm tired. I'm cranky. I stare out my classroom window, you know, the one that looks onto a cement wall because I'm in the basement and my window opens into a water-collecting trench, and curse the lack of sunlight.

Still, things get done. I run a 10k, Beat the Blerch, where the reward is cake and a disgusting concoction called the burritonut (donut burrito, whose toppings could include: bacon, hot fudge, salsa, sprinkles, and ranch). Alex and I visit a fire truck. We eat more cake. In fact, many baked goods are consumed. I manage to keep reading a lot, even though school has started. It's a revelation in sanity-keeping.

October

Halloween season! I always feel pressure to enjoy a month where my natural spooky aesthetic is acceptable. While I love the atmosphere of October, the clear seasonal change (compounded with feeling like I have to savor every moment) can often lead to slight malaise. I am definitely malaise-y, and angry about it. I am angry a lot in October. On the bright side, that anger spurs me to regulate my exercise schedule and go back to therapy. Nice work anger, somehow giving me what I needed.

October was not without highlights. We go on a spontaneous weekend trip to Spokane, where Alex rides her first carousel and I eat a vegetable coconut curry soup so delicious I immediately replicate it at home (it's been on constant rotation since). I take a 36 hour trip to Austin to see my niece's baptism. Solo travel is incredible. I eat too much Mexican food. Being with family is a real highlight—power reverberates from having all the Cowan women together. I, for one, love it.

Halloween happens. Alex originally asks to be Mickey Mouse, and ends up insisting she wants to be an octopus. I spend hours crafting an skirt. Alex looks adorable. She also becomes, again, a candy-obsessed fiend.

November

A traveling month. First weekend: family trip to Portland. The menfolk see the Lakers vs. the Trailblazers. I'm on kid duty, which isn't too bad considering I get donuts, book chats, and an early bedtime. I eat a brisket that makes me weep with joy. Second weekend: Taylor participates in a Levinas conference, and I'm once again on kid duty. It's less terrifying than it sounds. Third and fourth weekend, aka Thanksgiving week: LA EXTRAVAGANZA! We road trip to LA, and it's all my dreams.


Last time Taylor and I visited his old stomping grounds, I was seven weeks pregnant and wanted to die. This time, we enjoy sunshine and long drives. Alex spends days playing outside with cousins, an experience that completely ruins her for regular life. We eat burgers and sundaes, than run and bike in warm air. We stay in a house with chickens in the backyard. I take a solo drive to Lompoc to see my beloved Mary. Stopping to get gas in Ventura is the only time I see the beach. And yet, still an amazing California trip. I thought I would leave there convinced that I would do anything to live in LA. Surprisingly, that didn't happen, but it did confirm my belief that I need more sunshine in my life. Oh, what a sunshiney week.

Thanksgiving is also good.

December

Christmas stress. I hate shopping in general. I also get terrible gift anxiety. And I hate the cold. So in essence, this month is made of everything I dislike. Despite conscious efforts to chill out and focus on being present and giving from the heart and blah blah blah, there's a frantic discontent to my existence in December. I drive. I run around. I spend SO MUCH MONEY. This year, I realize that as my family gets larger, I  need to start Christmas savings/shopping far in advance. Ick.

Still, it is a lovely Christmas. Alex understands the concept far more than last year, although she is pretty much done opening presents after three gifts. And who could blame her, after she gets all her heart desired: a "kookoolaylay." She loves that thing with all her heart. The Mickey Mouse bed presented afterward is just enough to make her brain completely explode. All in all, a successful holiday, even if it felt a little lackluster.

2018

And there you have it. 2018 was a good year for "adulting"—for keeping steady in careers, for taking advantage of where we live, for both Taylor and myself reclaiming and settling in to who we are as individuals and as a family. Still, we dreamed in 2018. We discovered what we want, and plotted how to make it happen.

With that, I hope that 2019 is the year of graceful change. I've had change before—oh, how change has marked the twenty-teens—and most of those changes were abrupt and painful. In reaching for higher in 2019, I hope it happens with the wisdom earned through almost a decade of rough growth.

Ready, Set, BREAK

And just like that, as sure as the sun rises over the east and sets in the golden melted pools of western skies, I am done.  

One semester of grad school annihilated, two more to go.

Now on to one month of blessed rest.

Truth be told, I'm pretty proud of how this last semester passed.  Yes, moving here has been hard, and yes, I still had more annoying student habits than I wanted, but for the most part I was able to defeat the worst of my under-achieving demons.  True, my nasty procrastination habit is not completely gone. But I did kick it into submission about eighty percent of the time (the less said about that other twenty percent, the better).  Most importantly, I was able to finish finals with less stress and in a more timely fashion than ever before.  No last minute cramming for me this semester!  As an undergrad, I would usually frantically write my papers the morning they were due, finishing them with fifteen minutes to run to campus, print, and hand them in.  I am not lying when I say I was a lazy student.

So this is a pretty big deal.

This semester, every paper was finished at least by the night before class, and sometimes with a wider margin than that.  Let's check the timer and see how much time I granted myself, shall we?

Principles and Techniques of Journalism: 14.5 hours

Journalism Research: 18 hours

Arts Criticism: 29.5 hours

Media Law and Ethics: 66 hours

Might not seem like much, but to me that's solid progress.  Actual growth.  So eat that, all those people who stood up to violence or proved the Higgs boson particle or what have you.  I decreased my procrastination!  Victory is mine!

And now I can curl up and spend my break doing all those things I've wanted to do for weeks but have been delaying in favor of doing my work.  So over the next month, I'll be....

Reading these books:

Watching these TV shows:

And these movies:

And writing more on here (shameless plugging):

LIGHTBOX HEROES, a blog dedicated to reviewing new network TV shows.
Check us out at: lightboxheroes.weebly.com

I have a new project coming up.  Stay tuned.

And last but not least, doing LOTS of this:

Garfield is my spirit animal

Have a wonderful holiday season, dear world.  Enjoy the rest of this year.  I know I will.

Just the Way I Roll

Sitting in the dark, flipping through the vast array of information that is the interwebs. Overworked from school, tired from work, and appreciating home for the brief respite it is. Welcome to the average roommate bonding time that occurs at Casa de Cat.

But I treasure these moments. The cathartic release that comes from going and going and giving and giving all day. The spontaneous dance parties and random pancake days and occasional bickering and constant appreciation of JEFF BRIDGES. Seriously. He is The Dude, after all.

Still, it's usually just quiet. Music wavering in the background (tonight it's Andrew Bird. Obviously, I got to the speakers first). Separate couches. Too lazy to turn on all the lights, so semi-darkness enfolds us as we sit, lone spots in the haze as computers screens fill our faces with a phosphorescent glow.

It's peaceful. That communal, comfortable feeling of resting, but not being alone.

That, and sharing the occasional gem. I'll play a music video or read some snarky commentary on pop culture, and Lauren will share some Threadless gems. Like this little beauty:


If you don't want that on a shirt, you have no soul.