Happy for No Reason

Yesterday, while running errands, I tuned into a segment on NPR where Marci Shimoff, author of Happy for No Reason, was giving an interview based on her research into happiness. I only caught a brief snippet of the interview, but what stood out to me was that she said everybody has a happiness quotient. This is the baseline ratio or number of how happy a person is, regardless of circumstance. You could win the lottery and within a year, you'd return to this baseline number.

This happiness quotient is about 50% genetic, but the rest of it is largely up to individual choice: how one chooses to view the world and respond to it. True happiness has nothing to do with what happens to you, what things you have in your life or what things you don't have. That happiness is superficial and fleeting. True happiness comes from what you give out. So for example, one of the things she said is that being loved is not a cause for true happiness. But giving out love, in gratitude, forgiveness, doing for others, caring for others...that's what brings true happiness. She quoted a Chinese proverb:

"If there is light in the soul, there will be beauty in the person. If there is beauty in the person, there will be harmony in the house. If there is harmony in the house, there will be order in the nation. If there is order in the nation, there will be peace in the world."

It seemed from what I caught in the interview that much of what she said was based on scientific research, though when I went to her website, it seemed very commercialized, with very little mention of data or credentials. So that makes me a little skeptical. But what she says has a lot of face validity to me - it sounds logical and true on it's face. It certainly reflects my own particular perspective and experience in the world.

What really struck me was the notion that people have a baseline happiness quotient regardless of circumstance-and that that happiness level has an affect on the people around you. I have known people whose mere presence in a room can either brighten it, or suck all the energy out of it.

There is a very remarkable difference between happy people who fall on hard times, and truly sad or angry people. Even if the hard times are lasting for happy people, and they turn to others for support, it is never an encumbrance to help them and be there for them. But people who are naturally more negative can be intensely draining to be around, even when they are in a decent mood. With them, there is always a problem, always a drama, and in my experience, they always find passive aggressive ways to let you know they're upset. And while I have been known to be passive aggressive when I was younger, once I got old enough to really see what I was doing, I worked hard to recognize and change that about myself because I can't stand passive aggressiveness. It's weak and ultimately harmful because: 1) it makes solving the problem infinitely more difficult because you're never dealing with the real issue, only smoke and mirrors and symptoms of the issue, 2) the passive-aggressor is only punishing everybody else for the unhappiness they feel, instead of ponying up to their own responsibility, and 3) the passive-aggressor gets to pretend they're the victim, they're misunderstood or unappreciated. They're so good at pretending this, they can't see past their own bullshit. They martyr themselves for others and resent it all the while.

But I digress. You can see this is a pet peeve of mine.

I don't know if Shimoff's argument is appealing because it contains both an ability to blame unhappiness on something over which we have no control, and an element where we can tell ourselves we can change how we feel-that we do have choice and control. We can tell ourselves, "I'm not to blame, but I have the freedom to change if I want." It's the epitome of American dogma, isn't it? I have long believed that happiness comes from how you choose to respond to the hand life deals you, but maybe we are predisposed-whether through nature or nurture-to be more optimistic or pessimistic. But I do know, of the unhappy people I've known, some could benefit from a healthy dose of gratitude for what others do for them and the others could do with a little bit of forgiveness.

But then, perhaps, they don't want to be happy. This is something else I have observed: some people are actually genuinely and perfectly content to wallow in a cocoon of self-pity.

Vacation or Staycation, Try the Wine Country

For our first wedding anniversary, my husband and I decided to go wine tasting up in the Santa Ynez region, recently made famous by the movie Sideways, and conveniently enough, located in our backyard.

We enjoy wine tasting up in this scenic area, but this time we decided to splurge and hire a driver to take us around. A quick Google search online introduced us to Cloud Climbers Jeep Tours, who do group wine tours, including 4 wineries, more wine than you can taste, tasting glasses, a fabulous lunch, door-to-door service and a driver who will tell you all about the area and its wineries. Best of all, you get to ride around in a jeep - and not haggle over who gets to be the designated driver. How cool is that?

We were joined by a couple up for a mini vacation from LA, and having such a small group, our wine tour talk quickly devolved from the usual local history tidbits, to which everyone politely nods with bemused interest, to the latest news about the pot farm just beyond the ridge and how much tax money we're wasting on suicide barriers on the nearby bridge. Not your mother's wine tour, I must say - but infinitely more entertaining. We also more readily herdable, being a smaller group, which meant we got the added bonus of hitting up a fifth winery since we had time.

The thing I loved most was that the tour did not have preset winery destinations. Our driver asked us what kind of wines we liked, what we were in the mood for, then took us to his recommended spots. We hit up Brander, Lincourt, Gainey, Saarloos, and Artiste. My husband and I had planned to buy one bottle of wine. We took home three.

Of the five, Artiste was the only one we had been to before, and it was the last one on our list. I would like to tell you their wines were amazing, fabulous, and not-to-be-missed. But as it was the fifth winery that day, my wine palate had disintegrated from detecting floral, citrus, or spice and earth tones, to only being able to distinguish between whites and reds. Though, the sweetness of the final port did shine through enough for me to smack my lips on it, find a scrap book and draw a picture of a turtle. My husband added to the drawing: his turtle humped my turtle. You can see what a state we were in.

We ended up buying one bottle from Brander and two from Lincourt - all of them were whites of some kind or another. I think the heat of the day ruined my taste for reds this trip around. But the winery I truly enjoyed visiting was Saarloos & Sons.
Family owned and operated, this winery has quirky-yet-cool staff members who love to talk to you and tell stories. It also has the most AMAZING cupcakes...I might have to say they even beat Crushcakes. They were oh so moist, and flavored with wine. But the part I loved best was the aesthetic: vintage Victorian with a hint of modern, and a twist of grunge.



The day ended with dinner at Via Maestra 42, the top-notch, authentic Italian restaurant who catered our wedding. All in all it was a fabulous day and a magical way to spend an anniversary. For all you Californians out there, or others near a winery, this is a great vacation idea for these tight times when you want to keep it close to home.

A Year Ago

A year ago today, I was in my kitchen with my mom and my matron of honor preparing food for the wedding rehearsal dinner. I was worried and anxious that the party would go well and that the food would turn out nicely. I was thrilled to have my loved ones all around me. I was trying to think if there was anything I'd forgotten, and mostly surprised by how smoothly things were going. But most of all, I was impatient and excited for one of the most important events of my life: my wedding day.

On July 11, 2008, I married Toby Matthew Keller, and tomorrow we shall celebrate our one-year anniversary. So much has happened in one year, I still cannot believe it has already been a year. Somehow it feels as though the three months right after the wedding just never existed. It's like our honeymoon was another world to where we time warped, only to boomerang back sometime in October, when reality really sank back in.

I didn't think it was possible to love him more than I did on our wedding day. But marriage has changed us, and deepened our relationship in ways I could never imagine. There is a sense of security and comfort, where we are each other's foundations, our rocks on which to lean and find the courage and will to pursue our dreams. Even when we argue or disagree, there is no fear, because we know, underneath the disagreement, we are solid and secure with each other. Yes, marriage is a lot of work. To constantly be aware of another's needs and desires, to want them to succeed and always be happy, to find ways to get past the problems life hands you, it is work. It takes energy, commitment and will-power. But it is so worth it, because the good times are so very, very good.

Inevitably, there will be times when it is so very, very hard. But I write this so that my future self will always remember the good times, and to help us get through the bad. I don't wish to sugar-coat marriage, because I think over-sentimentalizing it and over-romanticizing it leaves one in danger of being unprepared for the reality of it.

But I also believe that people who say marriage doesn't matter, that it's just a piece of paper, are full of sh*t (no offense), and are probably masking a fear of commitment. There is something indescribably important about standing up, with your loved one, in front of all your family and friends, and pledging your entire life, heart and soul to each other. And to know that all your family and friends have witnessed that moment, support you, honor that commitment, and pledge to help you sustain that commitment. A marriage is not just a pact between two people; it is a pact between two families (to whatever degree those families are present in your lives) - and I come from a large, in-your-business, love-you-until-rocks-bleed Asian family. And once there is a marriage, we don't believe in distinctions between blood relatives and in-laws. Every one is family. Every one has a place and belongs, where there is no judgment, only love and support. Whether (you think) you want them to be there or not.

So tomorrow, we will celebrate the passing of a year. We will go wine-tasting, we will flirt with each other, we'll dine on fine foods and wedded bliss. And we'll celebrate the day when two became one.

*Wedding photos taken by Kelly Segre Photography.

Grad School Killed the Lit'rary Star

I have lost my ability to read, and I blame grad school entirely. I no longer read. Ever. I skim. It actually takes a concerted effort to really read, and even then, halfway through I forget and skip a few lines.

I've always loved great literature and language that transports and inspires. But grad school quickly knocked that notion out of me. My first quarter I had to get through 600 pages a week, on top of 3 3-hour seminars, papers, presentations, a readership, and a 25-hour a week job - a perhaps an emotional breakdown or two. And those are 600 academic pages, mind you. Not Harry Potter. Six hundred pages of fiction I can get through in a matter of hours. I challenge any non-academic to try reading Moravcsik with any kind of efficiency and get his argument on the first read. Or Skowronek. Brilliant scholar he may be, but Lord, he cannot write.

The only way to survive graduate school is to learn to skim, and skim so well you can get through an article in minutes, and a book in less than an hour and have the main argument. I don't think any scholar (in my field at least) ever reads an entire book.

But while this is a handy skill in grad school, it means the rest of my reading suffers. I just finished getting through two very similar books: Possession, by A.S. Byatt, and The Rossetti Letter, by Christi Phillips. Both books are about scholars stumbling across some historical artifact that changes our understanding of history and follows two simultaneous storylines: that of the scholars, and that of the lovers in history. And by far, I enjoyed The Rossetti Letter, not because it was a better book, but because I was more entertained. The plot-literary moment balance was skewed more in favor of the plot, and so I stuck with the book more. Possession had great swaths of text that contained no plot, and I jumped over whole passages, waiting to get to the interesting part. And my reading of the book suffered for it, I'm sure. I should probably go back and re-read it and pay it the attention that it is due.

But honestly, I don't have time. If I'm going to stick with a book these days, it has to compel me. Which is sad, because I miss savoring books. Instead, I devour them. And leave crumbs all over the table.

Pumpkin Pie Muffins with Cream Cheese Filling

Omigod. YUM. Just that name alone makes me drool. Last week, we went to The Palace Grill, which always has these amazing mini muffins (like apricot, or molasses, or jalapeno cheddar...) and I felt inspired to make some yummy muffins for my husband's birthday, which was yesterday. I was thinking of some of his favorite flavors, maybe something along the lines of maple and pecan, and then it struck me! Pumpkin pie! My husband LOVES pumpkin pie. So I started googling recipes for pumpkin pie muffins.

I found a few that were interesting, but seemed lacking in one sense or the other, and began to think I'd need to patch together several recipes, all the while thinking that a cream cheese filling would be the perfect touch. That's when I came across this recipe: Bakergirl Creations' recipe for Pumpkin Pie Muffins with Cream Cheese Filling. OOoooh yeeeaahhh...

So I tried to make the muffins and document the process as I went. I wanted to take a photo of the part where you have to make a well in the muffin, using two spoons, and plop in a teaspoon of the cream cheese filling. But it turns out it takes two hands to make a well with the two spoons, and a third hand to hold the camera. Of which I am lacking. So all I got was a stupid photo:

And a splooged muffin:

But thankfully, when they came out of the oven, they looked like this:

And they were pure sin in a pocket. Filled with pretty much everything decadent you could imagine to put in a muffin, these little babies were so moist and flavorful, you could eat them all day. The cream cheese was a perfect counterpoint to all the myriad spices. They taste rich and sweet, but not sickeningly so. The spices balance the decadence nicely.

My rating
♥♥♥ I would give it 5 hearts because I definitely could eat them all day long, every day. But if I did, I would quickly look like a cream cheese muffin. I think these are perfect additions to a dinner party, where you can spread the love around (as much as you might want to hoard them all to yourself).

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Rating System:
♥♥♥♥♥ Omigod this is awesome, I could eat it every night!
♥♥♥♥ Wow this is amazing for a special meal!
♥♥♥ Great choice for a dinner party!
♥♥ Hey, that was pretty good. We should have it again sometime.
♥ Eh. S'all right....
♠ Ugh, no! That was so bad I just had to share.

The Language of Love and Grief

Several years ago, I heard a theory that people give love in different ways and it is important to learn to speak each other's language of love so that your loved ones perceive and appreciate your tokens of affection and so that you can see when others are giving love in return. It is when we misinterpret or don't even see each other's efforts that feelings of hurt and under-appreciation arise.

According to this theory, there are five languages of love: quality time, words of appreciation, expensive gifts, acts of service, and physical intimacy. We all engage in all or most of these actions to greater or lesser extent, but we usually tend towards one or two predominant ones. We give love and expect love back in those terms (or at least recognize it most easily). Quality time people relish most the time spent in their loved one's company. The act of being together, even if not really doing anything, often is more meaningful than the finest diamonds in the world. Words of appreciation people love to lavish praise and verbal affection, and it is warm words that mean the most to them. Meanwhile, for other, words are not as important as other gifts. For some, love is measure in extravagance. These people love to spoil and pamper, and the cost of the gift is proportional to the act of love. For others, love is measured in gifts of devotion. Cooking special dinners, helping with various and sundry tasks, and otherwise doing for others becomes a demonstration of love and affection. And finally, physical intimacy and the need and desire to embrace, hold hands, or just be in touch with someone (literally) becomes a manner of expressing love and affection.

I would say my language of love is primarily acts of service, with quality time and physical intimacy as secondary traits. I do engage in the other two, but to a much lesser extent. My husband, however, I would say is primarily and "expensive gifts" person, with quality time and physical intimacy as secondary traits. I used to expect more acts of service from him, and felt slighted and undervalued when I didn't always receive them. It wasn't until I began to see all the little and big tokens of affection - anywhere from buying groceries, to taking me to dinner, to the fabulous, expensive coats - as all the ways he shows me he loves me that I could truly see and appreciate his devotion on the level it deserved recognition. But with quality time and physical intimacy as both our secondary traits, we speak easily in those domains.

However, I think what might be true of love, might also be true of stress and grief. I've been listening to various family dramas lately and it occurs to me that people deal with grief differently too, and if we don't understand and respect each other's way of dealing with grief, increased conflict and hurt feelings could result.

From what I have seen in my limited experience, I think there might be four languages of grief: sympathizers, bottlers, imploders and exploders. Sympathizers (of whom I would be one) reach out to others for empathy in their grief. They love to console and be consoled, and this constitutes a major part of the grieving process for them, as well as a way to bond with others. They see empathy in times of need as another way to deepen a relationship. Bottlers, on the other hand, shut people out. They may even act passive-aggressively in dealing with their grief, but they keep it close to their chest and much prefer to deal with grief and anger on their own terms. Imploders are similar to bottlers in their sense that they are better left to themselves when upset. They grumble in anger, they may even be spectacularly violent in their fury and perhaps destroy a few inanimate objects, but if left to their own devices, their pain is usually short-lived. Finally, exploders are those who deal with anger and grief outwardly. In more positive ways, they may insist upon dealing with problems and hashing out concerns with the targets of their frustration, working at a problem until it is resolved. In more negative manifestations, they may engage in accusations, argumentation and blame.

I think these categories may even fall along two dimensions: intimacy and time to deal, where intimacy refers to how inwardly or outwardly grief manifests itself in relation to other people. Time to deal refers to how long it takes to manage and resolve the grief.

While I'm a sympathizer, I would say my husband is an imploder. But I quickly learned to give him space and he learned that a warm embrace and a few sweet words go a long way towards me finding me inner peace again. Thankfully in doing so, both of us help each other deal with grief more efficiently so the bad times don't last any longer than they have to.

But this is just a theory based on my own personal observations. I would be very interested to know if this theory holds true in other lives. Also, being a sympathizer and married to an imploder, I feel I might understand these perspectives a little more clearly - and may have given short shrift to the other two personality types. If anyone feels they can elucidate those two perspectives better, I would be most willing to amend my little theory here. It's a work in progress. Please pardon my dust.

The Fidgety-Fidgets

I started off the week feeling blue, shifted quickly to anxious, relieved, happy and productive, and now I'm on to fidgety. I am so female. I suppose the fidgety-ness comes from the fact that it is FRIDAY(!) before a glorious holiday weekend that will be spent in San Francisco with fabulous friends. Some of whom are moving to Morocco (booo!...except that I might get to visit, maybe even as soon as next spring as my husband and I are talking about doing a trip to Syria and Morocco...YAY!).

I'm very much looking forward to festivities and good times with the friends. But a large part of me is very sad that I cannot be in Australia right now. Well, okay, I almost always wish I could be in Australia, but I do have a very particular reason today. My cousin, with whom I'm very close, like almost-sister close, is getting married. It's a quick and small wedding due to extraneous time and budget constraints. But all of her family is either in Thailand or California, and because of the timing, none of us can be there with her. I feel...displaced somehow, not being able to witness this moment in her life and stand by her side through it. I want to see her glow; I want to see her radiantly happy. And pictures, no matter how well-captured, are but pale imitations of the real thing. I feel a loss, not being able to be there, and I only hope she does not feel alone on that day. I will be thinking of her, as will all of our family.

But I can't succumb to the fidgety-fidgets for very long. I have much to do today! My manuscript is, I think, about 99.5% done. I have just one last read-through to do, mostly for cosmetic changes, and this makes me excited, nervous, and proud all at once. Even if it gets rejected, I feel proud that it is complete. (Well, I'm sure it will get rejected. Probably multiple times. But all it takes is that one yes, right?)

In the meantime, I also have laundry to do, survey data to enter, weekend items to pack, and a multitude of other various and sundry tasks to complete. So, as the French would say, "On y va!"

Happy Fourth everyone!