My New Year's Word 2012.

Every New Year's, I do a little thing called the New Year's Word.  It's a movement - my own personal movement - away from New Year's Resolutions, which never really work for me (or I suspect, anyone).

Why the New Year's Word?  Because it is an anchor in decision-making.  Every time I'm waffling on some kind of personal choice, I think about my New Year's Word, and blam: Decision made.  For example, in 2010, my word was "balance."  When deciding whether or not to hang onto my fun but time-consuming freelance writing gigs, I asked myself: "what would a balanced person do?" And just like that, I quit them all.  

But in 2011, I chose quite a different word.    

As a result of my 2011 New Year's Word - openness - some really rad things swept into my life.  Don't I sound so The Secret?  My behavior didn't change (I swear I only made one vision board) but, like the year previous, each time I had a choice to make I landed on the side of my word.  What would an open person do?

Here's what an open person does: 

*Buys a house.  In January, Ross floated the idea of looking for a home.  "Like, to buy?"  I asked.  "Yes," he said.  It sounded so unfathomably adult.  But you know what?  By April, we owned one.  Our first one! 

*Joins Cirque du Soleil.  Ok ok, so I'm not in Cirque yet, but after years of fantasizing I finally signed up for aerial silks classes.  I took my first one last January, and I haven't stopped.  It's bizarre how into it I am.  I even BOUGHT a silk that I'm going to try and hang in my back yard somehow.  You think I'm joking! 

*Tries samba. Continuing the dance theme, when Ross suggested checking out Austin Samba School this year (as we are both obsessed with Brazil),  I said, "I'm open to it."  You guys, nothing has made me feel more hopelessly white.  My pelvis is positively blushing.  It cannot believe the things I'm asking it to do!  But looking awkward, jerky, and totally white girl for a while is worth it, because let me tell you something, samba dancers know how to d-r-e-s-s.  Our "school" is actually more of a performance troupe, with 50 drummers and 50 dancers (Ross is on the drumming side), and for our shows we don these wild costumes.  Think high camp: Sequins, body paint, high heels, feathers, headdresses, the works.  We make Ru Paul look like Ann Taylor: LOFT.  Needless to say, I love it.  (PS, we are performing at Carnaval in February if you live here in Austin.)

*Talks to artists. I started doing this series on the blog called The Eavesdropper Interviews, which is a simple Q&A with creative types.  My very first one was with the famed Newspaper Blackout author, Austin Kleon, and these little Q&A sessions inspired my friends and I to try this concept out on video!  (More on that really, really soon.)

Maybe it was talking to all those artists, but this year I actually got up the guts to work more seriously on my own art, too: Writing.  Offline writing.  Pieces prepared for outlets I respect and adore, outlets that run creative nonfiction. When deciding if I should submit or not because I was scared of rejection, I said to myself: "I guess I'm open to that possibility, too."  Good thing, because I did get rejected.  But I got a piece of writing accepted, also.

Now I've got a new word.  And admittedly, I cheated a little bit: I've had months to think about it.  Back in October my friend Camille had a mock "New Year's Brunch" party at her house for an HGTV.com shoot (fancy!) and it came to me then ...

Evolve!  That's my word for 2012. 

I've cut things out that didn't matter (2010, Year of Balance), I've folded in things that do (2011, Year of Openness), and now I want to focus and develop those sacred areas of my life.  Which include the lofty and ambitious (evolving into a better writer, wife, and friend) to the somewhat silly (evolving the living room decor).  See also: Photography, blogging, dance, knowledge of Austin's yoga studios, knowledge of Austin's bars, my computer's hard drive, my mental reference library of red wine, the state of our front yard, my relationship with my next door neighbor, my relationship with the universe, and my relationship with Twitter.  

What is your word?  Please feel free to share!  I called the New Year's Word my "personal movement" earlier, but really, it's a movement for everyone.  Resolutions are hard.  Words are magical.  Just ask my pelvis.

(Photos: All by me accept for the house photo, via Miwa.  Also I should clarify that that is NOT our house but I wish it was.)

UPDATED 12/31/11: OH MY GOD this is so exciting.  Here's that HGTV.com video I was mentioning earlier with Camille at her house.  Look whose word makes a special cameo at the very end!

What we once were.

Ever since I spent Christmas with my three little nephews, I've been thinking about this line from the Wordsworth poem, "Tintern Abbey:"

May I behold in thee what I was once.

In that poem, Wordsworth is looking out over the countryside with his sister, thrilled to see that this is all new to her, that she's getting an enormous kick out of the nearby mountain, the blue sky, the "deep and gloomy wood."  He's been coming to this spot for years, and its magic is wearing off, but in his sister's eyes, he gets to see it new again.

I know this sounds terribly corn pone Reader, but I really do think that kids make Christmas.  "HA!" I can just hear my young parent friends saying.  "Wait until you have some of your own."  Don't worry, I want to tell them.  We're still totally figuring out how to be grown-ups over here.

But on Sunday, when our families spent Christmas together for the first time (Ross's and mine), the morning was just a little bit louder, the presents ripped open a little more vigorously, and the toy train watched with a little more intensity than it was for any of us five years ago.  That's about when Ross's sister had her first baby -- the one modeling Sponge Bob paraphernalia above.

And I think we've all been a little more childlike since.

Happy Holidays 2011!

Hooray!

Christmas totally snuck up on me this year, but that doesn't take away the overwhelming little-kid excitement I feel about the holiday.  I always use this time of year as an excuse to play my favorite Christmas song in the entire world on repeat, and if I'm lucky, to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (the claymation version).  Which I maintain as the best holiday movie ever, even over its very close second, Charlie Brown Christmas.  The Island of Misfits?  C'mon.  If that's not a timeless and comforting metaphor for the way we all feel sometimes -- different -- then I don't know what is!

I've also been thinking about a topic that's been kicking around in my head for a while now as a post idea: Volunteer opportunities in Austin.  So why not use this holiday post to talk about them, huh?

To be honest with you, I've wanted to blog about volunteering several times before here on my blog, but I never have because I feared it would be off-putting.  Like ... "you know who's cool?  Me. Because I volunteer.  Boo-yah."  This is always the way I was afraid it would come out sounding.  Self-congratulatory or something.

But Reader, I have to say that one of the greatest times I've ever had in Austin was the time I spent volunteering for Faith in Action Caregivers.  I'm not a member of any church, nor would I even call myself a Christian necessarily, but I do think of myself as a spiritual person and like to feel connected to a greater whole, in whatever faith tradition that can help accomplish that.  Thus: Me, in 2007, just having moved back to Austin, sitting on my couch bored one day and thinking of ways I could occupy my time.  So I Googled "the elderly, volunteer, Austin," and discovered Faith in Action Caregivers.  

Through them, I met a woman who would come to be a very close friend.  Her name was Ann Brown, and I loved her.  We went grocery shopping together every Saturday for a little over a year, until she had to be put into an assisted living facility.  Ann had severe Parkinson's and couldn't drive herself to H-E-B, so I picked her up and off we went to fulfill her grocery list: Coffee, eggs, pie crusts.  Ann adored baking, and sometimes let herself indulge in pre-made fillings.  "The best part about Parkinson's is, I burn off all the calories!" she'd say happily, dropping a can of cherries into our cart.

I miss Ann so much, and ever since she's been gone, I haven't been doing a whole lot with Caregivers.  I've decided to pick volunteering back up again for the holidays and 2012 because ... well.  You don't know this Reader, but I am a very, very selfish person.  Or maybe you do.  Either way, volunteering helps temper that.  Also?  I don't know what it is, but I just get a kick out of old people.  My mom worked with the elderly a lot when I was growing up, and we used to have little parties at our house for senior citizens.  That's a blog post for another day, but anyway, as a kid I felt like I had about 20 grandparents.  Which was pretty awesome.

You might have the same special feeling about animals, or kids, or the homeless.  So I've listed 15 charities + causes in Austin below that I think are neat, two of which I've personally been involved in myself (Caregivers and Ride On Center for Kids).  If you know of anymore or are involved in any yourself, please feel free to list them in the comments section.

* Happy holidays to you and yours! *

** Age of Austin // Angel House Soup Kitchen // Austin Child Guidance Center // Austin Children's Shelter // Austin Clubhouse (recovery from mental illness) // Austin Pets Alive // Blue Dog Rescue // Capital Area Food Bank of Texas // Faith in Action Caregivers // Family Eldercare // Front Steps Austin (ARCH) // Kids in a New Groove (provides private music instruction to children in foster care) // Literacy Coalition of Texas // Meals on Wheels // Ride On Center for Kids (horseback riding therapy) **

Tattoo lust + one more red hair moment.

At Propaganda on Tuesday, I couldn't help but notice Lindsay's amazing tattoos.  Lindsay works the front desk there, and if you ever go, you must check them out.  Aren't they glorious? 

Also ... Reader.  Because I'm very sentimental, I was paging through old photos of me with red hair last night, and I found this hilarious one taken a few years ago.  Can we please laugh at this together?  It was taken for Vain's website to show off Buffy's color work, and while Buffy is a genius (as is the photographer), I really do appear to have just stumbled out of a psychiatric ward:   

Like ... what is going on here??  Would you not be terrified if this person walked into your house?  Somebody call the Betty Ford!

The photographer at the time told us to imagine we were getting arrested for something, and while the other hair models imagined something ... sexy?  Like, indecent exposure?  I imagined that I had just been involved in a hit-and-run accident.  Um, what?  Who thinks like that?  I may even have started crying during this shoot, because I felt so guilty about running over a (fictional) person.  I'm pretty sure Tyra would NOT approve.

(At least the hair is poppin.')

The end of my red period.

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Freshly minted brunette here, reporting for duty!

Well Reader, I said goodbye to my red tresses yesterday.  How strange!  Even this morning, the new 'do still feels somewhat wig-like.

My beloved Buffy, the girl who turned me red almost exactly three years ago, made the switch with me.  Back then, in late 2008, I was still blond -- and the new hue changed everything.  

You know what they say, about blondes having more fun?  Lies.  I got fifty times more attention as a redhead than I ever did as a blond.  Inspired by Joan Holloway on Mad Men, and particularly by how bold she was, I waltzed into Buffy's chair at Vain and fanned out some pictures.  I was 26, and I wanted some of that boldness for myself.  

Have you ever gone red before, Reader?  If not, I think you should.  Everyone should.  Just to see how it feels, because let me tell you, red is an absolute trip. 

I believe that other redheads present and former can vouch for this: Red goes beyond stares on the street.  My hair has probably been every shade on the red rainbow, from demure ginger, to maroon, to loud, screaming Poison Ivy.  An old lady I used to go grocery shopping with thought I was Irish, my classmates at my 10-year high school reunion voted me "Most Changed" last year, and my Dad once called me "Crayola Head."  So red not only imbues confidence, you see: It makes people process you differently. 

But sometime recently, I saw a picture of myself on an overcast day, and the red suddenly looked ... too much.  Like it didn't fit me anymore.  I craved something more natural, something less look-at-me.  Isn't that funny?  You'd think I'd never give this great thing up, this fun color that got me so much attention.  But I just had this gut feeling.  A beloved chapter (my twenties?) was closing. 

And now?  Well, new color is always a little weird, but I like the new me.  I feel confident in a different way.  Mature!  That's the word.  I feel mature.  Less Poison Ivy, more Jane Birkin.  Thank you for transforming me yet again, Buffy.  You always make me feel so comfortable in your chair, and totally jazzed by the time I leave. 

I love you and your hair dying wizardry!

(PS: Buffy moved two weeks ago to Propaganda on West 5th.  I recommend her to everyone that I know.)

Winter is nice, but Autumn is better.

Adam walked into Nina's house a couple of weekends ago, as we were drinking wine and eating dinner.  "Hey, I'm Nina's neighbor," he said, grinning.  

Nina gestured to a new print she had picked up hours ago, and told me that this talented man had created it.  I was intrigued.

We chatted, and I found out that Adam belonged to Austin art collective Common House (906 E. 49th St).  There was a photographer there whom Nina thought I would like.

"Tolly.  Seriously.  You would go crazy over her stuff.  I think her name is Autumn."

(This is Autumn.)

The photographs above are all by local photographer Autumn Spadaro, and Nina was right: Hers is the kind of art that makes me want to build more walls in my house, so I can cover whole sections with her shadowy black-and-whites.  If you like them too, Autumn's work currently hangs in two spaces: Common House through the end of December, as well as End of An Ear Records.

Also.  Guess what, Reader.  Today I will visit a different sort of artist ... a hair color artist.  It's the close of a chapter, my redhead chapter!  I'm nervous.  But ready.  More on that tomorrow.     

Somewhere over the rainbow cake.

For most of my life, I have had two big dreams of inexplicable origin:

1. To see someone holding a sign with my name on it in the airport, and

2. To witness a live wedding proposal.

And, actually?  Scratch the inexplicable origin part. Don't both of these things happen in Sleepless in Seattle?  They seem like the kind of things that should happen in Sleepless in Seattle. 

I saw that movie when I was 11, and it was about that time when I decided that both Dreams #1 and #2 were dreams worth having.  They were just terribly romantic.  Well, at least #2 was. Why did I think that someone (a chauffeur) holding up a sign (made of cardboard) with your name on it was so special?  (Fact: I still scan the cardboard signs at baggage claim after every flight, secretly hoping one of them says "Moseley.")

Anyway, I told my parents about Dream #1, and they made it come true a few years ago at the Houston airport.  But Dream #2?  Well, aside from my own engagement, that one would have to wait. 

Until Friday, that is.  Friday!  The one that just happened.  And you guys: It happened at my house.

See this delightful girl above?  You know her well from my previous posts.  Amy is one of my best friends, and we had a birthday party for her at our place on Friday.

(My sweet baby kitty!  She looks so sleepy in this picture.)

Because Amy is generous and clever, she decided to turn her birthday party into a little more than that.  "But how?" you ask.  "How can you possibly top a 26th birthday, especially one that comes with an exciting rainbow birthday cake?"  Well, one way is to plan a surprise wedding proposal.

Amy secretly plotted with the gentleman below, to have everybody gather around her birthday cake as she was blowing out candles.  Cake that the lovely lady below - Nicki - had made for her.  And after Amy blew out the candles, Nicki was spun around ... to face Tom, with a ring.

Internet, meet the newly and very beautiful engaged couple, Nicki and Tom!

Oh, Reader.  I wish you could have seen it.  You would have just died.  The whole thing happened in front of a crowd of Nicki and Tom's closest friends, and right before he got down on one knee, Tom said (in a slightly shaky voice): "Six years ago Nicki, I called you back, and I'm really, really glad that I did."

We were all packed into Ross's studio in the backyard, and when Nicki said yes, everybody clapped and cheered wildly. "You're ENGAGED!" Amy screamed, and hugged her, her best friend since middle school.  

I stood there with the cake, thinking about the fact that I got to witness my first wedding proposal right there in my own backyard.  The whole thing cast this gauzy glow over my weekend that, even on a Monday morning, still hasn't gone away.