"In my opinion the organization of the Institution should be such as to stimulate original research in all branches of knowledge, in every part of our country and throughout the world." - Professor Joseph Henry (1797-1878), the first Secretary of the Smithsonian (photo courtesy of NMAH)

ACK!

I know. I know. I know.

I am a horrible blog updater.

But I promise, if you guys knew how little sleep I’m getting these days, you’d cut me a little slack.

This semester I am in three grad seminars. Working at the Archives. And just took on a new job designing, fabricating, and installing a new local history museum with my Museum Studies prof. Taking the dog to puppy training classes. And, even though Sherman can entertain himself for the most part, I always want to play with him, which stalls everything.

I am reading at least three books a week for these classes. My favorites, so far, have been In the Devil’s Snare by Mary Beth Norton (a really interesting interpretation of one of the contributing factors to the Salem Witchcraft Crisis in 1692),  To Begin the World Anew by Bernard Bailyn (about the Founding Fathers), and The Marketplace of Revolution by T.H. Breen (about the role of the British market in the American Revolution, really fascinating!).

I also completely scrapped my old thesis project (there was a logistical problem with one of my readers), starting 100% over again and making this museum project my thesis. It will take me one more semester to finish. I know this is the right move, because I am actually exhilarated about this. It’s an awesome CV addition, it’s actually what I want to do for a career, and I can FINALLY use that right side of my brain that I have buried underneath 39 required books, a back injury from the accident that is giving me gnarly daily headaches, student loans, a non-existent social life, and advancement to candidacy. Next stop, Smithsonian National Museum for American History! My portrait will be next to that guy’s (above). Hope you’re ready, Washington.

Although life is only going to get crazier in the next few weeks until mid-December, I want to keep writing. I just need to be REALLY disciplined.

I do want to inform people that I have caved and officially want a Kindle. It’s just way too hard to buy books now that Borders is gone, and even though it only takes Amazon two days to ship the books to me, I appreciate the instant gratification of an eReader. So, I am probably going to ask for one for Christmas or something. Or save up. Who knows.

I have a few book reviews worked up so I will post those in the following weeks… thanks for your loyalty, readers!  :)

This is my excuse for a lack of posts in three weeks (and I know you’ll forgive me once you see it:):

This cute little boy has kept me up ALL NIGHT every single night for the last three weeks. But then he looks at me with those cute puppy eyes, and I turn into jello.

In the meantime, I read three books that I really didn’t like. So instead of drawing it out and writing three incredibly boring reviews, I’m going to write one with all three.

First up:

Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe

Why didn’t I like this one? It’s an American classic. For goodness sakes, it practically started the Civil War. It’s very well written and the story is intriguing.

My problem with it was mostly that it was just so darn hard to keep the stories straight. There are, like, five stories going at once, and not in the cool, He’s Just Not That Into You kind of way. It was so exhausting to read it by the time I got halfway I was SO ready for it to end. I hate when books are exhausting like that. It’s okay if it’s thought-provoking, it’s okay if it’s tedious, but if I need to take a nap after every reading session, it’s not my cup of tea.

Which brings me to #2.

Declaration of Independents by Nick Gillespie and Matt Welch

 I read a thousand books like this as a political science student and for the most part, they’re all the same: one guy’s (or in this case, two guys’) jumbled, random political thoughts arranged in the most user-friendly way. Although, how easy is it for anyone, journalist/writer/author or not, to REALLY articulate the exact inner workings of their brain? It’s so hard to write out why A leads to B which leads to C, even for talented writers. The trick is keeping it short and concise, and of course– as one of my professors told me– never use a $10 word for a 10 cent concept. These guys didn’t follow those guidelines at all.

But, what I did appreciate was that they didn’t take a “America is DOOMED!” perspective, which is incredibly hard to find from a Libertarian. Two Libertarians adopting a “hey, we actually live in a pretty awesome country” perspective is so rare, I almost want to frame this book to prove to people that I found them. It could’ve used more case studies, as case studies are the absolute best way to illustrate your point in any political argument.

I wouldn’t recommend this book though. Half the time I was left asking, “wait, huuhhhh?”

Last up:

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig

Take a stroll down memory lane with me. Remember your college Intro to Philosophy class? I remember mine: it was 9am (which feels like 5am for an 18-year-old), on the top floor of the Wyatt building (which, was like, FIVE miles from my dorm– okay, it was across the field, but it felt like five miles). It was during a period in my life when I was drinking energy drinks like water and every day I cracked one open three minutes before class started the dude in front of me would always comment on how it sounded like a beer can opening and he wished it was. And then my professor would start lecturing. And we would all fall asleep. (I mean, I absorbed every word and took diligent notes, Mom and Dad.)

And that was a little more interesting than this book.

I really liked how Pirsig connected his story of maintaining his motorcycle with his 11-year-old son with his own philosophy, but I had no idea what he was talking about when he would start talking about Phaedrus. Did I miss that part in class? Was I sleeping that morning? (Hey, I actually got an A in that class, but because I had to re-learn everything at night from my books. And I learned a valuable lesson: the four hours you spend at night re-reading stuff is not worth the crappy 50 minute nap you get at 9am.)

Either way, it was so hard to get through, if I’m being totally honest. I keep reading reviews from people that LOVED the book. I can see why people love it, it’s very thought-provoking– how dependent are we, really, on technology? And is that such a bad thing?

So, there you have it- what I read while this bundle of fur slept. And then when he woke up, I swore that I would put off having babies for… well, a really long time.

When: 1850s

Where: Sacramento, the Sierra Nevada foothills and Placer County.

Why: Ask any American West history enthusiast, and they’ll tell you that Northern California’s most important historic prize is the transcontinental railroad. Not gold. Yes, gold is indirectly what brought the railroad here in the first place– but the West (and America) wouldn’t be what it is today if it weren’t for the colossal transportation projects of the 1850s that combined the geniuses of several men across the United States. And California wouldn’t be what it is without Theodore Judah.

Almost every city and town in the greater Sacramento area has a street or school named after Judah, but in my encounters not many people know who he was. Most people are acquainted with the Big Four (Stanford, Crocker, Hopkins and Huntington), or as I call them, the moneybags of the Central Pacific. But who got the Big Four to invest in this incredible project?

Judah did! In fact he said, “Gentlemen, raise the money and I will build your road.”

A sleepy worker in the Sacramento rail yard (Photo courtesy of Library of Congress)

The first railroad was built in Baltimore. Unlike other big cities on the East coast,  Baltimore did not have a major waterway; rivers were the most heavily used venues for interstate transportation. Anxious to be in on the competition, Maryland built a railroad for shipping goods to the major hubs in New York along the Hudson River and Chicago at the end of the Mississippi River. After proving to be a huge success for merchants and shippers, the railroad expanded all over New England and stretched down to the South and West to the states of Kansas, Missouri, Illinois and Wisconsin.

Theodore Judah, “Crazy Judah,” was the one to convince Congress to pass the Pacific Railroad Act in 1862 to bring this lucrative form of transportation to the far Western territories. The discovery of gold brought a frenzy of young men to California, and the railroad was a cheap, fast way to bring their families out to join them. He convinced the Big Four to invest in this big idea through his persuasive manner and the fact that he was just so darn crazy. The result was the Central Pacific Railroad Company. And when no one could figure out how to pass the tracks through the tricky Sierra Nevada, Crazy Judah was the one to figure it out.

And that railroad put Sacramento on the map. In switching yards in Folsom, Roseville, and Rocklin, population exploded. Sacramento transformed from a small stopping point to a large shipping center, the gateway to San Francisco from the East. And it enabled a mass movement of dedicated families, single men and single women, all seeking to pursue their version of the American dream.

All because of the crazy vision of one guy.

Now you know next time you see a street named after Judah. It will either really impress your friends, or make them roll their eyes (in my case, it tends to be the latter.)

For more reading: Empire Express: Building the First Transcontinental Railroad, by David Haward Bain. Penguin, 2000.

The five Borders stores in Sacramento are closing: the place where I spend many of my Friday and Saturday nights because my love for books is stronger than my desire to go out; the place I go when I need something to do; the place I go to stroll through the Staff Member Picks… the place I went to buy all my high school Honors books; the place where I spent hours sampling books in the Politics & History section and incubated my love for the subjects.

It’s the end of an era. I guess it’s my destiny to end up with a Kindle or a Nook. I remain obstinate in my claim that paper books will never be obsolete. But because Barnes and Noble is so darn expensive and Amazon lacks Kindle-free immediate gratification, I conclude that in the very near future, I will have an electronic reader.

Arrivederci, Borders.

Imagine, if you will, the following scenario: you went to an awesome law school, clerked for a Supreme Court Justice, married a great guy who was also fellow Supreme Court clerk, had two beautiful daughters and lived a comfortable life in New York City. And you wanted to be… happier.

For me, reading Gretchen Rubin’s “stunt nonfiction” was entertaining, but a chore. It’s impossible for me to restrain from comparing this to Eat Pray Love. Both authors decided to spend a year indulging in self-awareness activities. But I responded so much better to Elizabeth Gilbert, I found The Happiness Project much harder to swallow. Perhaps because I felt that Elizabeth Gilbert really did have problems and really did need to spend a year reevaluating her life and her priorities. Gretchen Rubin had to look for problems in her seemingly problem-free life and then had the luxury of endless free time and unlimited funds to help her fix every single thing she believed fell short of perfection.

Don’t get me wrong; I think this is a noble goal. I’m doing a similar thing, but the Diet version. Diet Life Reevaluation. Life Reevaluation Lite. After the accident and my friend’s death, I told myself I wanted to change for the better; I wanted to really embrace each day and be grateful for what I have. I just thought Rubin’s approach was extremely tiresome. I have such little patience with people who moan about eating too much “fake food” when I see homeless people eat scraps of people’s leftover trash outside of work. I have a hard time reading about one woman’s indulgence of every single whim to “fix” what wasn’t contributing to her happiness when I see extremely poor elementary-aged kids on Lightrail carrying their school books in a backpack that looks like it has been heavily used since 1985.

I agree wholeheartedly that happiness is something you choose. Happy people act happy. I understood this every time I served a table that I could tell was going to be a real P.I.T.A. and smiled upon greeting them; the people with whom I acted chipper and outgoing were the people who were the most pleasant to serve and, in turn, left the largest tips.

Maybe I’m being too hard on Rubin. She did talk about a lot of current research on happiness and what makes people happy. That was very interesting and entertaining. She actively tried to let things go and adopt a more content attitude. She worked on her gratitude and thankfulness.

But unlike Elizabeth Gilbert’s year-long journey, at the end of it, I felt exhausted, not exhilarated. I honestly felt like she tried to make herself look like someone I’d love to meet for a cup of coffee, but I really could not relate to her. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not “jealous” of the fact that she has so much money and free time to pursue this goal; I am a full supporter of doing whatever you want with your money and your time (as long as you’re not hurting anyone else): I just had a really hard time reading 300 pages of her cushy discomfort.

I don’t mean to put a damper on your weekend, friends. This book left me with a sour taste. But it is a really easy read, and the studies and research she cites are actually very relevant and very helpful. They are also entertaining. It’s just everything else that didn’t thrill me. If you’re looking for an easy beach read, this is it.

C.

]]> http://sspurlock.wordpress.com/2011/07/16/the-happiness-project/feed/ 0 sspurlock Happiness_Project2 http://sspurlock.wordpress.com/2011/07/12/picking-a-puppy/ http://sspurlock.wordpress.com/2011/07/12/picking-a-puppy/#comments Tue, 12 Jul 2011 17:59:07 +0000 sspurlock http://sspurlock.wordpress.com/?p=624 Continue reading →]]>

Everyone here knows that Zack and I were talking about getting a puppy since we got married. We both love dogs, and 8 months before our wedding our family dog Lacey passed away. I knew no dog could ever replace Lacey, but I also knew that I missed having a living soul love me so unconditionally, and that a dog’s love and companionship was something I would need for the rest of my life.

We began signing up for waiting lists about 8 months ago and seriously started discussing what breed we wanted. Zack grew up with big dogs his whole life; his latest dog Bailey was a black lab/Great Dane mix the size of a small pony. I love cuddly dogs, no matter what the size. This would be our first dog, so we needed one with a very calm demeanor and a medium temperament. We plan on having kids during this dog’s life, so we wanted one that would be good with our future little ones. We’re also students, so we needed a purebred (less health problems if it comes from healthy parents raised to have healthy pups) without spending over a grand just for the puppy. And lastly, we wanted a dog that Zack can take on hikes with him, since that’s his new interest and I won’t let him do it alone… because he’s incredibly accident-prone and overdue to have some completely avoidable injury. I would only let him start if he had a big service-oriented dog to go with him.

And so we settled on getting a golden retriever. For our life stage, a golden is just what we need.

A woman I contacted last year about her golden puppies posted on Facebook that her dogs just had a litter of 10 puppies that would be ready to take home in August. BINGO! I contacted her immediately, and she said they still had boys left. Even better, she had pictures and video of the sweet little things on Facebook. We met the dogs two weeks later and fell in love with the second largest boy. We picked him. She put a green ribbon around his neck to tell him apart from the others. We named him Sherman.

William Tecumseh Sherman, actually, but we’ll call him Sherman Starke (Zack calls him Shermies). William Tecumseh Sherman was a Union general during

William Tecumseh Sherman

the Civil War, famous for his March to the Sea in 1864 which significantly weakened the Confederacy’s industry and infrastructure. It was a huge contributor to the Union victory a year later. Naturally, we had to name a puppy after him, especially if our puppy liked to wage total war on anything that could be chewed. Our next dog will be Ulysses S. Grant.

We’re thrilled to have this new addition. If there’s anything that can throw a wrench in housing and moving plans though, it’s a puppy… we’re definitely in for it when we start looking for places to move after Zack goes full time to Davis.

Here are some photos of Sherman. I can’t wait to watch him grow. He’s such a spirited little boy, and we are so excited to start our family with him!

What's cuter than playing with a puppy? Playing with a bunch of puppies!

After my last post about my self-awareness kick, I was totally overwhelmed by the flood of support I received from family, friends and even strangers (but strangers, really, isn’t a term I like to use to name my readers with whom I do not have the pleasure of personal acquaintance). I truly do have some of the most amazing people in my life, although I’m not really surprised that so many people have been so… well, freaking awesome.

I mentioned last week my fabulous aunt Kate sent me a book that she told me deeply affected her attitude and outlook, and I was eager to read it. I really needed a new perspective. Within three days I finished Brene Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection.

The Gifts of Imperfection is about living a “wholehearted life” by approaching it from a position of worthiness. As in, “it’s okay that I still have dishes in the sink and I got a B+ instead of an A on that last research paper and that my jeans are maybe a size or two too higher than they should be, because I am trying my best in life, and I am worthy of love and belonging.” To find joy in life, one must practice courage and compassion and make connections. It takes courage to own our vulnerabilities and flaws, but when we do, we free up so much more time and energy to love and support others because we’re not trying to be the most perfect version of ourselves.

One of the things Dr. Brown explains is that communication about hopes and dreams is crucial to living wholeheartedly. It reminded me of something I do all the time: when I leave my comfort zone and apply to a new internship or interview for a new job or spend a ton of time on a paper, I guard myself by saying, “I’m not going to get my hopes up.”  Why? It’s embarrassing to be rejected. It’s embarrassing to have flaws and it’s really embarrassing to be vulnerable. It’s very unsettling to have your happiness or professional success at someone else’s mercy. So instead of owning that, I always tell myself that I won’t get my hopes up. Why do we do this? It’s such a waste of emotion. Joy comes from sharing with others and connecting with others. If you constantly tell people that you’d be totally fine if you didn’t get the internship or the job or an A on the paper, but you still get it anyway, they won’t know to be excited for you. They can’t share that joy with you. You’re cheating yourself out of that happiness and those connections. It’s far better to own it. It’s better to say, “I am staying realistic, I know there are a ton of qualified candidates that are vying for this internship, perhaps many that are just as qualified as I am. But I am hopeful, I really hope I get it.” And then if you don’t get it, you cultivate your connections and relationships with others when they can comfort you by saying, “I know you must be really disappointed you didn’t get that job. I’m really sorry.” And BAM! Instant credit to your friendships and relationships.

This book was like a mirror. I consider myself a pretty confident person, but I could always work on it. I do get pretty embarrassed about my flaws. Since I was three, I have bitten my nails. I had ugly stump nails that I always hid behind black nail polish. I was totally embarrassed by it. And I say “like” a lot when I talk. Most people think I’m super ditzy until they talk to me about something cool, like history or politics. I am always embarrassed about my “valley-girl-ness” around new people and I am always trying to slow myself down when I speak so that I don’t sound like an airhead. But those are my “flaws” and they’re part of me. I can overcome them with time, but it doesn’t make me less lovable because I have them. In fact, they add character!

I would encourage anyone who needs a mirror in a book form to read it. I got an A- for one of my final grades last semester, and it brought my GPA down to 3.975 instead of 4.0. I have been totally beating myself up about it for months.

Now I’m not.

The month of June had some lessons for this girl, and I learned them. You hear me universe? I learned your lessons! Have mercy on me now!

Last month I learned so much about love, life, and gratitude. A week to the day and hour after a former coworker and friend died on her honeymoon, Zack and I got in a bad car accident and I have been out of work since due to my injuries. So as I sit here on my couch for the nth day in a row listening to the Smiths and being grateful for my life, I am experiencing a significant pull to self-improvement.

That’s my goal for the month of July. Due to the pain narcotics, I haven’t been able to read as much as I’d like (okay, I tried reading The Shining and realized that Stephen King is not for me and gave up reading all together for a little bit) but what I am reading is carefully chosen to help me redraw my life. Not in a pretentious, soul-searching, eye-roll-inducing kind of way, but in a way that will put these painful lessons to use.

First up: The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown, PhD. Mad thanks to my loving and supportive aunt Kate who sent it to me… what perfect timing to be reading this book!

The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. This is more fun reading, but still helpful.

Spunk & Bite: A Writer’s Guide to Bold, Contemporary Style by Arthur Plotnik. Because my single most important professional goal in life is to write. Working toward that goal will be a significant source of confidence for me. Now is the time to start.

Golden Retriever (Smart Owner’s Guide) by Dog Fancy Magazine. Zack and I are getting a golden retriever puppy (it only took a year of convincing), to strengthen our already solid partnership in life!

Thanks to all my wonderful friends and family who were there for me this month. My parents always have been and always will be my greatest source of support and love. They were there for every step of the way. They let us borrow their cars when we needed them to get me around to doctor’s appointments. They kept me company when I totally needed it. Thanks to my soul sister Susie for her endless compassionate support. And our friends Greg and Vanessa for being such wonderful people, always willing helping us out when we need it.

And thanks to my fantastic husband, my partner! Life is easier and the journey is so much more fun having him along. We’re in this together. And after he had to take care of me in the very compromised state I was in immediately after the accident, I really think we reached the threshold where it would be more energy to go back and start at 0 with someone else than to just stick it out together for the rest of our lives.

Honestly, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Vengeance is a sentiment everyone feels at least once in their life. If you don’t act on it, at least you wish justice would be done for people who may have wronged you. And even if you choose to forgive those who do, you still have an underlying feeling like someone who could screw you over like that will inevitably dig his own grave. Justice/vengeance is one of the best plot devices in my opinion. It’s not overdone, it makes you think, it keeps a plot moving but it also develops the characters.

In The Count of Monte Cristo, vengeance unfolds rather than pushes the story along.  Jealous rivals throw protagonist Edmond Dantes in prison for a crime he didn’t (knowingly) commit. In prison he meets a wise old man who spends 14 years educating him, teaching him eloquence and articulation. And before the man dies, he tells Dantes where a fortune is buried on the island of Monte Cristo.

After a brilliant escape, everyone thinks Dantes is dead. And really, he is dead. When he uncovers the treasure and amasses a huge fortune, the new-and-improved articulate, cool Dantes is ready to get his revenge on those who took away his ship, his bride, and his youth. He spends ten years wiggling his way into the families of the three rivals, doing favors, slowly building up what he can tear down in the end.

If you’re interested in reading it, I hope you have a long weekend with nothing planned. You won’t want to put it down. The characters and the plot will make you want to tear through each page so that before you know it, you’ll be 500 pages in. At least that’s what happened to me, and what has happened to other people I know who have read it. And Edmond Dantes is perfectly crafted to appear cooler and with every page, wielding more unquestionable authority and charm. I picture him to look like this:

Photo: Home Box Office

Okay, yeah… that’s Eric Northman from True Blood. I know I’ve watched too much True Blood when I start imagining characters in books to the characters in the show. But I seriously do picture Dantes like Eric. Plus it doesn’t hurt that he’s so gorgeous…

This book asks you many inescapable questions. If you had unlimited resources at your disposal, would you get revenge on someone who has seriously wronged you? How would you do it?

It also doles out inescapable lessons. There are limits to legal justice, but there are also limits to human justice, the kind of justice when you take it in your own hands. You can’t get justice or revenge on someone without inevitably hurting others. And by the time you’ve set it up so that you can get perfectly destructive revenge, how do you go about it without destroying yourself as well?

In all, this is one of my favorite books I’ve read. It’s just such top-notch literature. I am seriously bummed I read the abridged version on accident (in fact, halfway through the novel, this was my dialogue with myself:

 Sarah 1: “Man, I am really loving this story, I wonder how lame the abridged version is.” Sarah 2: “Yeah, that would suck if someone read it all the way through thinking they were reading the unabridged version.” Sarah 1: “Hmm, maybe I should just make sure this is the unabridged version… [checks the front page]… Crap.”)

I would recommend it to everyone. I’ve read about kids reading it. Dumas has so many lessons to teach you. Just make sure you have a long weekend to read it, you won’t want to put it down.

It’s official. Teenagers are the same in every country. I can say this, because I was one not too long ago. The historian in me is yelling at me for generalizing, but while reading this I concluded that even faced with completely different national political climates, teenagers in Iran are remarkably similar to teenagers in America.

That’s what I learned from Persepolis, the graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi who was a girl during the Iranian Revolution and grew up in the Islāmic Republic in the 1980s. Raised by dangerously progressive parents, Marjane (“Marj”) had to wear a veil and hide her hair because according to the government, women’s hair emits a very toxic chemical that excites men. (This was barely 30 years ago people!) Marj witnessed schoolmates lose parents and lost an uncle herself to the tyrannical new regime. Her parents sent her away to Austria for boarding school so that she could experience freedom and escape the violence at home. She left Iran at 14 years old, but she still felt the war every day.

Yet, she was still a teenager. An outsider, but aren’t most teenagers outsiders in their own mind? I remember those days well. She loved drama. Check. She was obsessed with boys. Check. She talked back to people when she should have been respectful. Check. She cut her hair in funky styles, wore funky clothes and got weird tattoos and piercings. Check, check, and definitely checkkkkkkk. Actually, maybe she didn’t get the tattoos and piercings… I might be projecting my adolescence onto her. See? I told you it was the same. I can’t even tell us apart now.

Okay, so what else did this book do for me besides show me that those painful (painful mostly for adults) teenage years are universal? It taught me a lot about Islāmic republic that you can’t really learn in textbooks, and it reaffirmed that  graphic novels are a really cool way to tell a story. It is a completely different reading experience. I realize that giving you the images doesn’t get your imagination going, but it’s a memoir… so unless it’s a memoir about unicorns and elves, you wouldn’t use your imagination that much anyway.

In all, it was a really quick, interesting read. I feel like I’ve read a lot of stories about people going against the grain and stickin’ it to the man, so I’m kind of tired of that narrative these days. But it was definitely interesting, well done and seriously, it’s pretty incredible how graphic illustrators can show a perfect emotion on a caricature with one or two lines in the eyebrows.

I haven’t rated a book in a while, so I’ll give it a B. I’m glad I read it, but mostly I’m REALLY glad I solidified my love for graphic novels.