A Single Girl's Soliloquy (I promise it's not that sad)

Valentine's Day is in less than a week.  Normally I'd be my usual bitter, cynical self about it and walk around making snarky comments (both in my head and out loud) and giving happy couples the stink eye and thinking 'spare me'.  

Well, I've dismissed that attitude.  I've decided that I sometimes need to have a better outlook on life.  

While I can understand the importance of a day for couples to...well...no...that's a lie, I can't really see the importance of Valentine's Day.  What is it for?  Is it just a day for couples to flaunt it in the faces of their single friends?  I certainly hope not!  And I certainly don't think so.  But here is my personal philosophy regarding Valentine's Day.  Caution:  I'm about to hop on my soapbox. 

Okay, maybe you're with someone, but why do we have to set aside a holiday so that you can buy your significant other chocolate, or lingerie, or new...ficus.  Wouldn't it be so much more pleasant to be surprised with a new ficus some other random day of the year?  I think I would like that better.  Or get me a present on April Fool's Day with a note that says "This isn't a joke", or something like that.  That's my idea of romance. 

And shouldn't every day be spent celebrating ALL of the relationships in our life?  Sure, take your lover ("that word bums me out unless it's between the words 'meat' and 'pizza'") out on Valentine's Day because that's what everyone else does, but also remember to take them out on June 5th and December 3rd and April 17th because those days don't matter, and for that reason, they matter more.  And if you're single, call your family and remind them that you love them.  Call your friends and make sure they know that you couldn't live without them because, let's face it, you probably couldn't.  But also make sure you call them throughout July, and September, and March and every other month of the year.  It's one day that supposed to be special, but every day is special, we just have to make it so.  Oh gosh...I'm getting way too sappy.  I'll stop now.  

However, I can understand how one could still be depressed about Valentines Day.  If this happens to be the case, enjoy these e-cards and then go focus all of your holiday energy on President's Day, which comes six days afterward.

Seriously.  It's not that bad.

And that's how Clara C's it!

Mustachio

Remember way back in...May (I think) when I blogged about beards?  Know what are even funnier than beards?  You got it, mustaches.  They never fail to crack me up, no matter how good or bad they are.  So here you go, a gallery of mustaches (that may or may not contain one or more crazy political leader).

He may have sent millions of people to the Gulag, but there's no denying that Stalin had a crazy cool mustache. 

I'm not entirely sure what you'd call that...but whatever it was Chester A. Arthur rocked it (as best he could).

The Ted-ster. 

Oh!  Nietzsche!  I didn't notice you there.  I was too distracted by your wooly mammoth of a mustache.

Taylor Rice, of Local Natives, proving to us all that the mustache has not become obsolete (and can look pretty damn sexy).

Salvador Dali:  Is it art...or is it just really scary? 

Einstein's mustache brought him much joy.

Frank Zappa...I have no words

Apparently "Famous Mustaches in History" is a frequent search on Google Images.  So I'm not the only one.  But seriously.  A mustache is one of those things that can either go horribly wrong (Chester A. Arthur) or horribly right (Taylor Rice).  There really is no in-between.  Except maybe in the case of Salvador Dali.  His really is a work of art...it's so terribly horribly...frightening?

And that's how Clara C's it!

A Far-Away Land...Called Minneapolis

My eldest sister, who lives in Washington D.C., says that men in D.C. are hard to date because they are very work oriented and they never want to settle down and that men from the Mid-West are the men that you really want because they are family men.


So tonight, in an act of desperation, I said that I will move to Minneapolis to meet a man if I have to.  I WILL MARRY A MAN WHO EATS HOT DISH AND PROBABLY IS DESCENDED FROM LEIF ERIKSON HIMSELF!  So any Minnesotans reading this blog, spread the word.

Michigan is technically part of the Mid-West...apparently.  That's what I've been told anyway, but whenever I think if the Mid-West I always thing of Minneapolis, Minnesota (and St. Paul too, I guess since the two always seem to go together).  And for some reason I have this huge romantic ideal built up around it.  It's probably because I've listened to too much Prairie Home Companion and read too much F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I guess that's what happens when you read too many books.  You get romantic ideas about places...like Minneapolis?  I don't know.  It's probably the worst plan I've ever had, but then again, you never know...


And I guess if meeting a Minneapoilan (Minneapolianite...whatever they're called) doesn't work out I can always just build a log cabin for myself in the Big Woods of Wisconsin.

And that's how Clara C's it!

Umm...Sorry

So sorry that it's been so long since I've blogged.  I really don't have a good excuse other than finals week, but that was only one week, not...what's it been?  Four and a half?  Five?  I'm not going to do the math.  Let's just say it's been a long time. 


I finished Wuthering Heights and I loved it.  That's right.  I LOVED it.  Okay, maybe I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would.  


So here we are, the day after Christmas.  Boxing Day, in Great Britain, Australia, New Zealand and Canada.  I'm pretty sure I love Boxing Day, even though I don't really know a thing about it.  Essentially it's just a banking holiday.  I don't know.  I always thought it would be something cooler.   


Christmas was wonderful and beautiful and all of those good adjectives.  I sincerely hope yours was as well. Santa brought me a little case of the flu along with new winter boots (which are useless since there STILL isn't any snow), but it's okay.  My immune system lives for battles like this.  Also, it's a really good excuse to stay in bed all day. 


I have a funny story to share with you, dear reader.  I went to visit my grandparents in their retirement community and I was wearing this big knit sweater (which is admittedly kind of ugly) that my grandmother knit for my mother in the eighties.  We went down to get grandma and grandpa from dinner and what do we see?  An old man wearing the same exact sweater as me.  That's right folks, I was wearing the same sweater as an eighty year old man named 'Walt'.  We tried to get a picture, but, despite his walker, Walt was a fast mover.  

I hope that you aren't all completely distraught over the fact that I haven't blogged since mid-November and that you will continue reading, despite my lack of posts as of late.  I promise that I will do better in the future.  Perhaps it will be my New Year's resolution.  JK!  I don't make resolutions.  I just make vague promises to myself that I never end up keeping.  But either way, I'll blog more.  PROMISE. 

And that's how Clara C's it!

Prejudice

I have a deep and burning hatred for the book Wuthering Heights.  I'm not entirely sure why, but it's been simmering for about two years.  


I've never actually read the entire book.  I read the first two chapters, was confused and bored out of my mind and quit.  Then, over the summer, I watched a PBS adaptation of the book and I hated that as well for really no other reason than I was already extremely biased against it because I hated the book (or rather the first two chapters of the book).  I disliked it so much that I didn't even give it the honor of being on my bookshelf (I'm pretty sure it's under my bed).  I'm sorry, but just you try to read a book in which every other character seems to be named 'Cathy' and most of them are somewhat repulsive. 


However, you will be happy to know that I, Clara R. Richter, have had a change of heart.  I have decided to put all pre-existing prejudice aside and this Thanksgiving break I plan on reading Wuthering Heights, no matter how painful it may be.  


Also, they are releasing a new film version of Wuthering Heights and I'm actually rather intrigued by it...and Mumford and Sons is doing most of the music.  


"The Enemy"


"Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living! You said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe—I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"


Yep, this is going to be a real pick-me-up, but I feel like I can't despise the book as deeply as I do unless I have read the entire thing.


And that's how Clara C's it!

Mother Knows Best

"Magic is believeing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen." 

So, apparently my mother was right about the Wizard of Oz being the most powerful wizard of all because he makes you believe in yourself.  Somehow Mother always manages to be right...

And that's how Clara C's it (I'm at work and can't put this in its normal font, cuss)!

Ten Things I Love (or at Least Like)

1.  Fall.  Fall in Michigan.  Fall in Ohio.  Fall while driving through Pennsylvania.  I like fall just about anywhere where there is the changing of leaves and a chill in the air.

Pure Michigan

2.  I love naps.  Sometimes naps are the best part of my day. What's better than two hours of sleep in the middle of the afternoon?  Not much.  Sometimes I sleep in my bed.  Sometimes I sleep on the floor.  Sometimes I sleep on the couch. Sometimes I sleep in class...

3.   My bike...and biking in general.  Nothing like a beautiful bike ride on a beautiful afternoon.  My friend Kayli and I biked quite a bit this summer.  And then my uncle gave us his old road bike and so I started zipping around on that.  But no matter what kind of bike I am on it is a great mode of transportation.  Who needs a car when you have two legs, two pedals, and two wheels?

Ride More, Drive Less

4.  Fuzzy, funky, warm, slightly grandma-ish sweaters.  I have a collection of them.  Some of them are old.  Some of them are new.  All of them are warm.  

5.  Patagonia.  If my whole wardrobe were Patagonia, I wouldn't complain.  They make great outdoor gear, plus, they're sustainable!  How great is that?  Pretty great.

6.  Books.  Reading.  Being in bookstores.  The smell of old books.  The smell of new books.  Novels, books of poetry, memoirs, nonfiction, anything really.  I have an overloaded bookshelf at home and I've acquired even more books since coming to school.  When I have my own house I fully intend on having a room devoted to books, even if it means my children all have to sleep in one bedroom...just kidding...or am I?

7.  Home.  As much as I love being at school I do miss home a lot.  Generally I don't miss the people (no offense family and friends), I'm more prone to missing places.  Lately I've been missing the pier.  I don't spend that much time at the beach or on the pier in the summer, just because there are so many people wandering around, but this is my favorite time of the year to be on the beach.  Fall storms whip the lake into a fury and it crashes over the pier with astonishing force.  It really is a thing of beauty, the fall storm on Lake Michigan.  

8.  My red shoes.  I feel like they're my magic shoes.  They go everywhere with me and I go anywhere in them.  They're muddy and the laces are getting frayed and the sole is starting to wear down, but I've got no complaints, because I like things with character.  Every time I wear them I imagine my life becoming part of Andrew Bird's 'The Ballad of the Red Shoes'. 

If Dorothy was a hipster...

9. The Black Keys, who, according to my father, sound like a mellow version of The Rolling Stones.  You can decided that for yourself.  Here's their new single.  
Lonely Boy

10.  A hot cup of tea.  Earl Grey, Darjeeling, English Breakfast, Green, White, Queen Anne's.  All kinds of tea.  Any kind of tea.  I don't discriminate.  They only sell Queen Anne's at Fortnum and Mason, in London, and I highly considered having it shipped to me for 36 American dollars.  I just love it.  Especially when I get to drink it out of my mustache mug.

And that's how Clara C's it!