apropos of anything

It’s been a busy weekend. Actually, it’s been a busy couple of weekends and a busy couple of weeks. Instead of blogging, I should be sleeping if I have any hope of making it into the gym before work tomorrow morning, but y’all, after this weekend, I just can’t take it anymore. I have a grievance to air, and where better to air it than here, for all of you to read?

I love saris. I love them so much that it hurts when I see them worn improperly. I want to take the wearer into the bathroom of whatever fancy reception hall we’re at and redo her entire outfit.

But, because that’s rude, I’m instead going to offer four five sari-wearing tips here in case anyone happens to be Googling for them. Every single one of these rules have been drilled into my head by multiple generations of Indian women. Follow them, and I promise you and your sari will look fabulous.

1. Iron your sari before you put it on, particularly the area around the fall. No, I’m not being facetious. Sometimes it’s hard to iron a sari properly, so depending on the material and your patience level, you may just want to get it professionally steamed. If the sari isn’t ironed well, your pleats won’t hang well. And speaking of pleats, if you’ve had the sari pre-sewn, please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t iron creases into your pleats. Your sari should hang, not stand stiffly at attention.

2. Put your shoes on first. Absolutely first. Before you put on the petticoat, even. Your petticoat (and as a result, your sari) should be tied according to your with-shoe height. When you’ve got the whole outfit on, I should only be able to see the tips of your shoes (if even that) under your sari. Indians can be very mid-Victorian that way. If it’s an old-school silk sari and you’re tall, you may have to wear flats to make it all fit right because they tend to run a little short. If you’ve had the sari pre-sewn so you don’t have to wrap it yourself, it’s probably been sewn to your shoe-less height, so wear flats to make it all fit right.

3. Tighter is better. We laughingly say to each other, if you can breathe, your petticoat isn’t on tight enough, but it’s a little bit true. Your petticoat should be tied as tightly at your waist as possible because that’s what’s going to make your sari feel secure and comfortable. A loose petticoat will allow your sari to shift as you move, and you don’t want to end up with half of it coming undone as the night goes on. And on that note…

4. Embrace the saftey pin for verily, it is your friend. Your sari may end up being pinned in fifteen different places, but that’s okay because you’ll be able to twirl around a hillside just like a Bollywood actress. What’s not okay is having your pleats fall apart because you sat down the wrong way.

5. Pleats are important. The sari is about two things: the pleats and the pallu. The pallu (the pretty and usually heavily patterned part at one end of the sari) came with the material, so you can’t change that. The pleats, however, are all you. Take the time to do them right, and make sure they align from top to bottom. It’s easier if you have help, but you can do it on your own too. (At least, you can if you’re my mother.)

I will admit that I am a sari snob. Putting a sari on right takes quite a bit of practice, but I consider it an art form worth learning. And when I see someone wearing a sari hiked up to their ankles (a la Urkel-style highwaters) or creased to high heaven, well… in those moments, I understand what the Fug Girls feel like when they encounter a pair of formal shorts.

P.S. Happy Tax Day.

Every light fixture in my house has a bulb in it. I don’t have a problem with darkness — in fact, sometimes you might come over to find that I have no lights on at all, only umpteen candles scattered about and a fire in the grate — but I hate dim, poorly-lit rooms where the bulbs are so weak (or so missing) as to make the light ineffectual. Light is supposed to make things brighter, not dingier.

But even though I turn off lights in any room I’m not using, sometimes I feel guilty about being less than energy efficient. Sometimes I worry that I’m a right-wing Bush administration crony who believes global warming is a load of hooey. Surely, surely there’s a way I can have my light and my conscience too.

There is.

Fluorescent light bulbs have come a long way, baby. They’re cheaper now. They’re available at your local hardware store. You can put your makeup on under their light and trust that you don’t look like you just stepped out from under the big top.
Most importantly, they conserve an amazing amount of energy (75 to 80 percent less energy than incandescent bulbs), and they last long enough to make the scroogiest Scrooge proud.

So, me, I am changing my bulbs. It’s the first step towards a bright, guilt-free existence. And if I do it, and you do it, and your neighbors do it, well… the journey to a billion CFLs begins with one bulb.

Baseball is back! And today, despite their best efforts, the Braves even managed to eke out a win against the Phillies. I can’t wait until the home opener, even if there’s a really good chance the Mets will win. I never really feel like the season’s started until the Braves have played at home, and also, I am going through serious Turner Field withdrawal. Our ballpark may not be historic, but at least it’s not a juice box.

Leta convinced me to co-own a fantasy baseball team with her this year. I’ve never done this before, she’s only done this once, and we kind of decided right at the very last minute… so we aren’t exactly prepared with the usual sheaf of spreadsheets (I know!). We’re winging it. Going with our guts, so to speak. And I’d be sad that after this first day of baseball, our guts appear to be misguided, except that it’s way too early to be second guessing ourselves. So what if Andruw Jones and David DeJesús went 0 for 5 today? I have faith in our guts.

I’m so glad spring is here. Everything’s pretty outside, the pollen is turning our cars a lovely shade of yellowish green, I am back in my open-toed shoes, and, of course, there’s baseball again. Baseball is beautiful, and baseball is love, even when your team (real or otherwise) isn’t doing as well as you’d like.