Aqua with gas

Posted by random olio

I have become horrendously addicted to sparkling water. I know a random thing to become addicted to, but I am. I can remember in 2001, my sister and I went on a trip to Italy. A quick side note. My sister, the amazing person that she is, decided that she would take me to Italy for my college graduation present. What a cool present from a sister, in a family with no parents. Back to the trip — I had no idea how to speak the language and figured my sister could handle that part. I was the map girl, and man was that important when we were in Venice. The only words I knew how to speak were: “Where is the bathroom.” Important, right?

Imagine sitting in a trattoria in Italy with a gorgeous waiter taking your order. You are on vacation and you have absolutely nowhere to be. It was probably the last vacation of my life (with the exception of my honeymoon) where I truly felt no stress of the workplace that I left behind (although I do remember making a long distance phone call from Venice to Boston to check in on my boss as he had asked if I would check in partway through my vacation). I guess I was just as crazy back then.

I digress. This post has only a tiny portion to do with Italy. I can remember when you would order they would ask if you wanted aqua with gas, or without. I was adamant that we had water without gas. Sparkling water, gross?! Well, I guess over time you do change. Fast forward to 2014. At some point during this year I got addicted to sparkling water. I still cannot remember when or where, but now I prefer drinking water with bubbles. We even purchased a Soda Stream last spring. We do not use any fancy flavors, but I love to come inside after a long run and gulp down a glass of cold water with bubbles. Somehow I feel like the water is just slightly different. It tastes different. It has a bit of an edge… Especially when you hold the Soda Stream button down just a little longer than you should.

Now back to a few weekends ago when Chris and I went out to dinner. We knew we would be getting sparkling water. When we ordered it I assumed we would be paying for our water. It was a nice restaurant and of course they would charge more for the bottled sparking water. When they asked right away if we wanted sparkling or still we asked for sparkling, only to find out that they bring you their own bottle of sparkling water. I am sure they have their own machine that makes sparkling water, but why not? More restaurants should make their own sparking water and stop charging customers $3-10 for a bottle. I know when I was in Shanghai I sometimes had to pay $15 USD just for a bottle of Perrier (craziness)!

Thank you, Ava Gene’s, for letting us enjoy our food, drink countless bottles of sparkling water, and never paying a cent for the bubbles. There is more in this world than price gouging over some carbonation. More places should make their own sparkling water. I would be a fan. Bring on the bubbles!

You get what you ask for…

Posted by random olio

Do you ask for what you want? Or are you shy about it and hem and haw, not sure you should speak up for what you want? I used to be quiet and banter around about what I wanted and then one day I spoke up. The next time it got easier, and easier, and easier. Now I am not shy about speaking up. I say what is on my mind.

Imagine what it would be like if we all said what was on our mind. If we never had to wonder what others thought, what information they might be hiding? Recently I found this article: “You Don’t Get What You Don’t Ask For” published in Inc. magazine online. As the article mentions, do we not speak up because of fear? Are we afraid that someone will turn us down? Are we afraid someone will say no? Are we just downright afraid? What makes us that way?

Dare to ask for what you want. Dare to take a risk. You have no idea what that risk could mean for you. It could change your life. If you had not taken that risk would you not have met your other half? Would you not have told them you loved them? If you had not been you in that interview, would you be in your current job? Would you know your good friend? Everyday we take risks. When we confront the nasty man at the grocery store, when we decide to fight back, and when we take a stand against an injustice.

If you do not ask you might not get that new project. You might not get to join them for lunch. You might not go on that trip. What is the worst that can happen if you ask? That someone will say no? Will that crush you? It should not, because all you have to do is ask. You really have nothing to lose but your pride. Right?

Remember: You get what you ask for. Ask for what you want.

We are in last place

Posted by random olio

It has been on my mind for quite a while. I have not been able to formulate the words I feel, yet I know there are articles and blogs out there that state the facts, opinions, and emotions of countless mothers, soon-to-be mothers, and of course fathers out there that have experienced or will soon experience what it is like to bring a child into this world. I think about it in relation to when my sister had my niece, when my friends have had their babies, and when my colleagues (both men and women) have had to come back to work so quickly, either because of financial or work related reasons. What am I ranting about?

Parental leave in the United States.

A few days ago I read an article on The Huffington Post titled: “A Working Mother’s Plea to the President” that brought tears to my eyes for its authenticity, rawness, and the poignant reality to parents and families in the United States. Over time I for some reason have collected articles and personal blogs about parental leave because I am stunned and aghast that a country that is as progressive, modern, and futuristic as the US that we treat our mothers and babies as though it is 1770. How can we have pride for a country that keeps its eyes closed about this issue?

A Wikipedia search for “Parental Leave” shares a chart of all the countries in the world. Only two countries list “0” days. Papua New Guinea and the United States. How is that possible? How is it that every other country in the world has some type of paid parental leave policy and all we have is a law that means we will not lose our job (FMLA of course). What does that say about our countries support for families and the bonding that is necessary at the beginning of a child’s life? Some of the countries on the list not only give you time off before you have the baby, but an extensive amount of time after the child is born. Note: the District of Columbia does require employers to give paid time off. So does that mean that all of our politicians are covered, but regular American citizens are not? Can you believe Sweden gets 16 months off for maternity leave? What does this mean for parents and families that cannot afford to take any time off? Who is taking care of those babies in the immediate days after birth?

A search on Change.org resulted in many petitions all of which are closed. This is an issue that deserves our attention. How can we be in LAST PLACE? Read “A Working Mother’s Plea to the President.” It is time to speak up.

She flies with her own wings

Posted by random olio

I have lived in Oregon for almost 11 years and I have a confession to make. I did not know our state motto until last week while reading: “Pen & Ink: Tattoos and the Stories Behind Them” by Issac Fitzgerald. I know shocking. I love my state. I love Oregon, Portland, and my little neighborhood. Our state motto though is downright badass. It is: Alis volat propriis in Latin, which translates to: she flies with her own wings. It means she is free, independent, strong. What is not to love about that state motto?

It does not say “he” it says “she” – after a quick Internet search I could not find a single other state that has a motto with “she.” Many had “he” or “we,” but no other “she.” An Internet search for Alis volat propriis also returns a zillion tattoos with the Latin version displayed on a plethora of body parts. While I do not like to be a follower, it is an intriguing option that might just get added to my short “I’d get that tattoo list.” Why does this saying tick for me? Why does it resonate so strongly? Many reasons.

I grew up fast. At the age of twelve, my mom was sick, and my dad was mostly out of the picture. I had to figure out a lot of things in my own way and fast. What does that do to a kid’s development? There could be a lot of differing answers. For me it meant I learned early to do my own thing. I did not like to do what everyone else was doing. I charted my own journey. No one was looking out for me, and I had to make sure that I looked out for myself. I flew with my own wings and I still do.

That is with Chris flying beside me.

Whether you are a man or a woman, fly with your own wings. Speak out with your voice. Be strong, independent and free. It might be my state motto, but it has also been my unwritten motto all these years.

Alis volat propriis.

Alfred Dunner: heart moment

Posted by random olio

It is amazing how you can be walking through a store, look up, and have a flashback of multiple experiences before your eyes. Almost when you accidentally click the button on an email that allows you to open all attachments at once. It is fast movement where window after window opens before you. A miasma of different experiences that cascade across the screen.

Mine happened with Alfred Dunner.

Who is that you might wonder? If you have ever gone shopping with your grandma you might have heard of the brand. From what I can remember it was one of the better “granny” clothing brands. My extensive (yes I can say that because they were often) shopping trips with my grandma spanned L.S. Ayres (now owned by Macy’s), JCPenney’s, and occasionally Sears. The main department stores in my small town, with the additional at-home shopping of Appleseeds, and a few other catalogs she would purchase from (such a big deal to her) but most of the time sent things back.

Granny Smith had great taste in clothes (well at least for a someone in her 80’s/90’s). If she found something, purchased it, and wore it that was a huge win. It meant a successful shopping trip. She was picky (maybe I get my pickiness from her). She knew what brands were crap, and what looked good on her. She did not ever want to look frumpy. Even if she was going to the grocery, she would make sure she looked nice, and church meant dressing even nicer. I have to agree on the frumpiness, although I am as frumpy as I want at home!

I am not a fan of shopping and would rather a stork showed up at my door with clothes that were perfect for me in the right fabrics, colors, and sizes. Yet, growing up in a small town meant there was not that much to do. So many Sundays after church my grandma and I would go to the mall, get a nice meal (her terms) and walk around the mall. It was a way to spend time and connect with her. It was something she felt comfortable doing, and it sure beat watching golf (her Sunday afternoon activity). Additionally, it also just might have meant a new item for me (not always but sometimes). What was not to like about that?

Alfred Dunner, I have never met you, but you gave me a heart moment to remember Granny Smith.