A Summer Swimming Wish

I think it’s safe to say summer has arrived in Louisville. Despite the fall-like temperatures last week, I’m looking at temperatures in the high 80s and 90s for the next few days. I don’t mind the heat if I don’t have to be anywhere looking presentable, and I usually don’t. But if I’m walking around in it, I start craving oceans, lakes, rivers — any body of water. Given the geographical location of my current home (and the drugs and sewage in the Ohio River), a pool is really the best I can hope for without driving too far. And while I have at least one pool connection, I am after one particular pool — the Lakeside Swim Club.

Melissa at Loueyville.com voiced this desire last year: “Lakeside has become my Xanadu. My Dulcinea. My Holy Grail…I want to be invited to Lakeside just to see it.”

She’s right — Lakeside IS the Holy Grail of pools. When I first moved to Louisville, I was in good swimming shape. My Peace Corps roommate was once a swim instructor, so he helped me with my form and taught me a few tricks. I love the water, and I wanted to figure out where in Louisville I could practice my recently acquired flip-turn skills. So I turned to Google and learned about Mary T. Meagher and some Y pools. At the time, I was jobless and carless, so getting to these places often seemed like too much of a commitment. If I had the money to buy a membership, I didn’t have the time, and vice versa. I briefly read about Lakeside, but wrote it off quickly after taking in their membership requirements.

Later that year, I was in the Highlands Kroger when I saw this aerial photo of a pool surrounded by high rock walls. It looked beautiful, and unlike any pool I’d seen. I determined this had to be Lakeside and that I had to go. I mean, the club is built out of an old rock quarry. There’s a pool, a “lake” with swimming lanes, and a float area. Last year, Melissa and I visited the quarry in La Grange. No memberships required there, just $8 (maybe $9?) and a float. But it has creepy fish (minnows but also monsters) and pond scum (quarry scum?). Lakeside has chlorine. I don’t just want to see it. I want to swim in it.

But again with the membership. You have to be a member to get in, and to become a member, you either have to live in the neighborhood surrounding the pool (certificate membership) or be sponsored by a certificate member (associate membership). Members can bring guests, and that’s where my ticket is. But as far as I know, none of my acquaintances are members. But this is a small town, right? Who do I have to buy drinks for in exchange for a guest ticket to swim in that “lake”? I only want to go once. I promise I won’t abuse your connections. We can swap stories about fabulous places we’ve been swimming.

If you don’t know anyone with a sweet connection, at least leave me some other suggestions about fantastic swimming holes — anywhere in the world.

This one's nice, but it's in Ghana​

Eat, Pee, Read

Last month, I finished the “Hunger Games” series. All three books. In about three days. And then, after a break of a few weeks to read some other books, I read the first two books of the series again, almost as rabidly as the first time.

It’s been a while since I’ve encountered a book that’s hooked me so much that I have to devour it in a “do-nothing-until-the-book-is-finished” way. The guy who helped me at the bookstore said people who buy the first or second book come back to buy the next one unshowered and covered in crumbs. That sounds accurate and close to my experience of reading these books. But I also had a lot of time in Peace Corps to lose myself in good books — books where all you can do is eat, pee, and read (and hydrate. Gotta hydrate).

Apart from “The Hunger Games,” here is a short list of Eat, Pee, Read books I’ve devoured in the last few years:

In Cold Blood (Truman Capote)
The Color Purple (Alice Walker)
Zeitoun (Dave Eggers)
Water for Elephants (Sara Gruen)
We Were the Mulvaneys (Joyce Carol Oates)
A Sunday in at the Pool in Kigali (Gil Courtemanche)
Fall on Your Knees (Ann Marie McDonald)
Waiting (Debra Ginsberg)
The Rapture of Canaan (Sheri Reynolds)
Half of a Yellow Sun (Chimamanda Ngoz Adiche)

I read all but the first three in Peace Corps, and this is a shortened version of the list I originally had. Each Harry Potter book I read also falls into this category.

What about you? What books have made you give up social engagements — or basic hygiene? And, if you have experienced pee-and-read with a non-fiction book, please share, as I notice that most of the books on my list are fiction.

Lessons Learned from Wedding Planning

​I got married about a month ago, happily bringing an end to about six months of worrying about getting married. Here are a few things I learned and a few I wish I would have known:

Do It Your Way
There are “about 153,000,000″ results in Google when you search for “wedding-planning.” Take what you want from them. You want an immaculately decorated church wedding with a fairy-lit forest reception? Have a ball. You want to get married on a mountain with only your officiant present? Go for it. All kinds of people, from friends to our cake baker told me, “It’s your day, do what you want,” but I still worried.

We wanted a taco truck / Photo by Michelle Jones​

Stop Worrying
Ha! I didn’t stop worrying until 19 days after the wedding. I worried about the capacity of a reception hall before we booked it (we didn’t even book that space, and when I was worrying about it, we hadn’t done anything to commit to it). I worried the hall would look bare with the minimal decoration skills I planned to apply. I worried we didn’t buy enough cups, that my hair would fall, that there wouldn’t be enough beer… everything. Even while worrying about these things, I knew that if any of them happened, we’d get through it. Still, I woke up in the early morning and lay awake, stressing about these hypothetical situations.

Something Will Go Differently Than Planned
The women at the beauty school where I had my hair done shared this encouraging advice during my “wedding hair” trial: Something will go wrong.

So I tried to think of all the possible situations and solutions (probably contributing to my sleepless mornings).

What if the taco truck doesn’t show? We’ll order pizza.
What if the flowers don’t arrive or aren’t enough? We can buy flowers at a florist. Or Kroger. What if my hair falls? 39 pins couldn’t hold it for two hours! Who cares?!

The flowers arrived and were beautiful.​

Of course, the situations I planned for did not come up. Instead, the day before the wedding, we were under a severe weather watch (“THE APOCALYPSE IS COMING!”, but isn’t it always?), and my cell phone stopped working. So I drove to the phone store for a new SIM card under blackening skies, scanning the clouds for the one that was going to turn into a funnel. Thankfully, the tornadoes did not come for us. The phone only worked intermittently for the rest of the weekend, but everyone has a phone, and I was somewhat able to communicate through Twitter (although really, if you’ve been meaning to replace your nearly three-year-old phone for eight months, consider doing so before a bunch of people who will need to call you travel to your city for your wedding).

Seek Advice from Like-Minded Friends
When worrying about all those wedding disasters, voicing my concerns to a friend helped. Whenever I got spazzy, I had several empathetic, but sensible friends and family members who helped keep me sane. Acquaintances and strangers were encouraging, but they also planted nonsense in my head. Those hair salon ladies listened to my worries and shared some reassuring words. But they also contributed to a crisis in confidence about the reception decor (again), resulting in the cancellation of table linens I’d ordered less than 24 hours before (black table cloths would have been fine). Luckily, a friend helped ground me by showing me photo albums of the detailed decor from her wedding, then revealing that no one remarked on these details. This was the same friend who told me as long as I had food, music and drinks, everything would be fine. So know which friends are able to listen and advise without creating more stress for you.

Have a Rehearsal

No matter how small the ceremony — and ours was very small — rehearsing your ceremony is a good idea. Ours went smoothly, but my parents and I clearly needed practice walking together.

We had some issues getting through the door / Photo by Michelle Jones​

​Buy More Bourbon

Especially if your wedding is in Kentucky.

Have Fun

This seems so obvious, but at least one blog I read proved that pressure can ruin the day. Despite all my worrying though, the goal was to get married, then celebrate. That all happened, and this is what I really learned: Gabe and I have loving friends and family who braved tornadoes, airline asininity, stage fright, and a small-scale bridezilla (I got a little grouchy around 3 pm on wedding day) to celebrate with us.

​Photo by Michelle Jones

​Now excuse me for the next two months. I have some serious “thank you” card writing to do.

Friday Photos: Climbing the Schilthorn in Switzerland

​About two years ago, my brother, dad and I hiked from Stechelberg, in Switzerland’s Bernese Oberland, to the peak of the Schilthorn, a 2000 meter hike. You start in the valley, immediately begin climbing, and six to eight hours later, you arrive at the summit, where you can take the cable car back to Stechelberg and catch the bus home.

The hike begins below the treeline, plateaus briefly in alpen meadows where grazing cows provide distraction (and sometimes obstacles), and then you start clambering over large boulders until you reach this path through shale. Depending on how many breaks you need, there’s only about an hour of hiking left from this point (there’s more boulder clambering, and a stretch of path where you can look over the edge into the other valley and imagine yourself falling, if not to your death, then at least to your serious injury. Better to just look ahead).

My brother and I have conquered this mountain twice. I plan to do it at least once more, knees permitting.

Happy Friday. May bad knees not get in the way of any weekend plans.

Friday Photos - Swiss Cows

This blog is very quickly becoming a Friday photo blog, but we’re at three business days until unemployment and I hope for at least one update a week to break up the “Friday photo, Friday photo, Friday photo” pattern.

Today, I give you Swiss cows.

Matador editor Carlo Alcos (@vagab0nderz on Twitter) asked about favorite sounds while traveling. Mine? Cow bells in the Alps. That sound reminds me of summer, hiking, sausage cooking over open fire (while I eat a cheese sandwich), Alpine wildflowers, cold, blue-green lakes and parasailers gliding high above valleys.

Happy weekend — I’m going to a bourbon distillery. Anyone else got good plans (like going to Costa Rica for the weekend)?

Roe v. Wade Week

January 22nd marks the 38th anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision. This year, a number of local organizations collaborated to plan a week of educational discussion and activities focused on abortion access. Because of the sensitivity and surprise factor (flash mobs) of some of the activities, it was better not to advertise the full week’s schedule, but there are still some events happening this week, should you be interested.

On Friday, January 21st at 2:00 PM, “Queering Reproductive Justice: A Community Conversation” takes place on the U of L campus. The discussion will examine where the queer and reproductive justice movements meet.

At 6:00 PM Friday, see the documentary Silent Choices, shown at the Planned Parenthood office. Silent Choices, directed by Faith Pennick, examines abortion and birth control from the African American perspective. You can read more about the film and watch clips from it here. Donations of items for infants (diapers, etc) will be accepted for Women in Transition.

On Saturday night, stop by the BBC Taproom at 636 E. Main Street for the “We Got This: Trust Women” benefit for women’s rights. The shindig starts at 7:00 PM with music from local musicians Silo, Bunny Day and the Mercy Buckets, Banda Copas, Meredith Pass and, according to this ‘zine that I’m getting my information from, more. There is a suggested donation of $10, which will go to the A Fund and the ACLU Reproductive Freedom Project. Silent auction and raffle proceeds will benefit the Louisville Clinic Escort Legal Defense Fund.

Finally, on Sunday, there will be a candlelight vigil to commemorate Roe v Wade between 5 and 7 at Fourth Avenue Methodist Church. Local faith leaders speak about the impact of denying women reproductive freedom. I went to this last year and found it refreshing to hear support from the religious community, since I usually see the opposite on the clinic sidewalk.

Big thanks to the many people and organizations who worked to put this week together: Feminist Alliance of U of L, Kentucky Health Justice Network, KRCRC, Louisville NOW, Planned Parenthood of Kentucky, Sister Song, WENCH, Women in Transition and the Clinic Escorts. 

Friday Photos: Winter Sunsets

If you haven’t gathered from all my whining and complaining here and on Twitter, I don’t do so well in winter. But one thing I enjoy about this frigid, monochrome season is the sunsets. I don’t know if their timing just coincides with my walk home from work or if sunsets really are more vivid this time of year. Maybe it’s the bare trees letting through more of the sky. I do a lot of tree-gazing, and I like the way the silhouetted branches create stained glass windows of yellows, blues and reds with the sun’s fading light.

Way to go, nature, providing something to distract me from my frostbitten nose.

I Quit! Now What?

I gave (three weeks) notice at my job last Friday. I do not have another job lined up, nor do I know what I want next. It feels like the right decision, but since then, I’ve been waffling almost non-stop, from recurring moments of self-doubt — “What am I DOING?! The economy is terrible, bla bla bla,” to “Everything will be fine, now move along.” Here is a short list of fears:

1. How am I going to pay for my life?
Since the last job search, I’ve acquired higher rent and some new financial obligations (oh, hello physical therapy bill). I get nervous quickly when spending without earning, and thus far, I’m having a hard time believing I’m going to make rent off content writing and occasional substitute teaching.

2. Health insurance – I’m working on my options for this. The state of health insurance upsets me anyway (why am I paying so much a month when things like physical therapy still aren’t covered?!), but going without anything seems unwise, especially because I bike everywhere when it’s warm.

3. Making the same mistakes – I’m worried #1 and #2 will be enough to make me take the first job that comes along, and that I’ll stay for months after realizing I’m not happy.

4. Lacking self-discipline – I quit this job because I was frequently angry before I even got to work. I wasn’t angry at work, but at myself for still being there. I’m concerned that now I’ll just look at Facebook 87 times a day instead of doing what I should, which leads to concern #5, which is basically #1 reworded.

5. What do I do? I quit this job and, like I said, I’m not sure for what. I know why I quit, but I don’t know what I’m headed to. I want more than 40 hours a week in an office, two weeks vacation and a nice benefits package. Those things are great (although four weeks would be greater), but… more. I want more. But the list of interests is long, and I’m not sure where to start. Photography? Writing? Health work? Teaching? Social work?

I know these are decisions I have to make for myself, and in lieu of a counselor, I’ll take your comments. Encouragement, suggestions, admonishment – leave it below. Please and thanks.