Recently in Quality of life Category

You probably already know this from experience, but new research has shown that the more you fight with your better half, the worse you sleep -- and the worse you sleep, the more you fight with your spouse.

 

Here are some more details from the study conducted by Brant Hasler, a clinical psychology doctoral candidate at the University of Arizona and presented at the 23rd Annual Meeting of the Associated Professional Sleep Societies, June 2009:

 

"Results indicate that on a day to day basis, couples' relationship quality affects their sleep, and their sleep also affects their subsequent relationship functioning. For men, better sleep (as indicated by diary-based sleep efficiency) was associated with more positive ratings of relationship quality the next day. For women, negative partner interactions during the day were associated with poorer sleep efficiency for both themselves and their partner that night.

 

'When we look at the data on a day-by-day basis, there seems to be a vicious cycle in which sleep affects next day relationship functioning, and relationship functioning affects the subsequent night's sleep,' said principal investigator Brant Hasler, clinical psychology doctoral candidate at the University of Arizona. "In this cycle, conflict with one's partner during the day leads to worse sleep that night, which leads to more conflict the following day. Although these results are preliminary due to the relatively small sample size and a subjective measure of sleep quality, the woman's perception of the relationship seems particularly important, as it impacts both her own and her partner's subjective sleep quality that night."

 

The study involved data from 29 heterosexual, co-sleeping couples who did not have children. Each completed sleep diaries for seven days. Each partner was asked to record the quality of interactions with their partner six times a day.

 

Hasler said that interventions directed at improving either quality of sleep or relationships may provide overall benefits, as the two directly impact each other. Hasler recommends that couples should resolve disputes before going to bed and avoid confrontational discussions on a day when one or both of them had a bad night's sleep."

 

So the next time your better half is grumpy because you slept late on Saturday when you were "supposed" to be cleaning out the basement, you can honestly say that you were sleeping in because you love him or her so much --  you weren't being selfish, you were actively improving your relationship! And who can argue with that?

The absolute best place to buy fancy -- or any -- kitchen gadgetry is the second hand store. Consignment stores always have truckloads of never used or barely used kitchen items -- my theory is that people buy fancy kitchen gadgets believing that simply having them will magically make them want/like/have time to cook, but when that doesn't happen, and the gadget has been in the box unopened for a year, they drop them off at the thrift store -- which means you can have a gourmet kitchen on a college student's budget. Here are some of the standout items I have found at thrift stores:

1. Atlas Stainless Steel Pasta Machine, $7.00 (Retails new for around $90.00)
2. Le Crueset Enameled Cast Iron French Oven 9qt., $30.00 (Retail: $299.00)
3. Le Crueset Halo Enamel-on-Steel 1.5qt Tea Kettle , $3.00 (Retail: $55.00)
4. Cuisinart Stainless Steel Automatic Burr Mill Coffee Grinder, $4.99 (Retail: 50.00)
5. Cuisinart Ice Cream Maker, $12.00 (Retail: $50.00)
6. Williams-Sonoma Glass Cake Platter, $6.99 ($65.00)
7. Marble rolling pin, $2.99 (Retail: $80.00)

I could go on and on because pretty much my whole kitchen has come from the consignment store -- all my pots and pans; all my cake, bread and muffin pans; all my baking tools -- at a fraction of retail price.

Having said that, I'm a person who believes you don't need any fancy kitchen gadgets to be a good cook or to enjoy cooking. New York Times food columnist and cookbook author Mark Bittman makes all his meals and tests all the recipes for his cookbooks in his tiny Manhattan apartment. For all the great kitchen stuff I have picked up at the thrift store, I make almost every meal with a pot or skillet, a wooden spoon, and a sharp knife. That's it.

If you need some kitchen staples or gadgets, head to the consignment store, but don't let lack of equipment stop you from cooking! Pretty much all it takes to make dinner is the desire to do so!

This morning I was walking to the bus stop and I was halfway there when I realized I was wearing two different shoes: one with a heel and one without.

Yep, that's right, I walked a block didn't notice that each half of my body was at a different height. It was like when you drive somewhere and when you arrive at your destination you can't remember any part of the drive.

Numerous and varied studies have shown that we often don't pay quality attention to the things around us. Whenever I read one of those studies, my first thought is, "Sure, maybe that happens to other people, but not me! I always know what's going on around me!" I guess I have to revise my self-assessment.

I know this much: I better start paying attention when I'm getting dressed or tomorrow I might show up at work with my pants on backwards.

Okay, so it didn't exactly get stolen. I am selling my old house and I used the TV to stage it. Since we're a one TV family, that means we're going without in our new house.

I panicked at first. "How will I fill my nights?" I gasped. "What will I do?" The answer, it turns out, is a lot! It turns out I LOVE not having a TV. Here are some of the things I've rediscovered:

1. I'm learning to play the piano.

2. I'm cooking more. Without a show or a Netflix to plop down in front of, I think, "Gosh, maybe I'll make dinner." And then I do.

3. I'm reading again. Sure, I read regularly; I'm an editor. But back when we had our TV and I would get home from work, I'd tell myself, "Ugh, I've been editing all day. I'm sick of reading! I'll just watch TV." But it turns out that was just an easy excuse to watch TV. I have plenty of mental space left for books -- and now I have the time to read them!

4. My better half and I are spending more time doing actual interactive things. Several nights in a row last week we sat at the dining room table and played board games. We played chess. We got out the video camera and filmed our dogs doing tricks.

We've been having so much fun without the TV, we don't know if we want it back. We're thinking we might keep it in the basement when we get it back and drag it up only for the occasional movie. 

I spent the morning thinking about flying pigs.

This is just a quick dispatch to tell you that I was working on a blog post (no, not this one), and it had been dragging on all morning. Not sure why. Maybe, I thought, I'm distracted by the economy. But, no, that's not it. I haven't been all that worried because the way I figure: if all heck breaks loose in the markets, we'll all be sunk -- and there's no comfort like company.

Then I thought: maybe I'm too excited about tonight's vice presidential debate (now that's my kind of sporting event!) to focus. But this presidential contest has been going on for over a year, and I've managed to get plenty of other things accomplished. So scratch that.

Is it the leaky plumbing in my new house? Goodness knows I don't want a mold problem. Could be, I guess. Is it that today's my birthday? Maybe. I did spend a few minutes this morning dreaming of what I would buy for myself if someone gifted me $10,000 (top candidate: a new, high-efficiency furnace).

Then, I thought: maybe its just plain, old-fashioned restlessness. You know, the stare-into-space-for-no-reason-at-all-despite-your-best-efforts-to-focus kind of day. The day when you try to get to the point (of your blog post, your work project, your dirty dishes, you name it) but nothing helps.

These days strike once in a while, and, in my experience, there isn't much we can do to hurry them along. They serve some purpose, I've decided. Maybe it's the brain's way of taking charge and mandating a break from our continual multitasking. Maybe it's the only way our brains can get a vacation from our usual high-speed routines.

Whatever it is, I've been trying not to get upset at myself for what I perceive as lack of ambition and focus (which is my tendency). Instead, I've been trying to expand my definition of success beyond productivity and "getting things done." I'm trying think of taking a break, staring into space, pondering everything and nothing all at once, as just as necessary as being productive.

And, look: I managed to produce something anyway -- this blog post. Giving in to my distraction netted me the result I hoped to achieve in the first place. Sure, it's not the first post I started to write, but it's probably better than the original one I couldn't get off the ground.

Okay, I admit it: I tried the deep-fried chocolate chip cookies. Whatever negative impact that had on my arterial health was offset by the pure joy of spending the day at the Fair. 

The State Fair was fantastic. I still can't exactly explain the Fair's appeal (see my previous post), but on my recent visit I took note of some factors that, I suspect, contribute to it's fantastic-ness. I also tried to find some wisdom hidden in these factors -- some bit of advice we can extrapolate from the State Fair experience and apply to the remaining 50 weeks of the year. Here's what struck me:

No one at the Fair is stressed out. The Fair is a celebration -- of summer, of hard work (prize-winning preserves, anyone?), of agricultural dexterity (the biggest pumpkins and the sweetest apples!), of giddy, rollicking fun (the rides, the games, the prizes!) -- and stress has trouble gaining traction amid so much joy. In fact, I have begun to suspect that stressing out at the Fair is a physical impossibility. So what's the take-home wisdom? Feeling relaxed isn't just the opposite of avoiding stress. It's about the active pursuit of joy -- and, of course, the celebration of the world's best strawberry jam!

You can't be ironic at the Fair. The Fair is full of kitschy stuff and it's tempting to take an ironic view: "This crop art is good precisely because it's soooo bad!" But irony dies at the State Fair entrance gates. For whatever reason, the Fair is something you can't help but genuinely love, kitsch or not, and I think that authenticity of feeling contributes to the joy of the Fair. Take-away wisdom? It's important to be passionate -- without qualification or apology -- about the things you enjoy and genuinely take pleasure in. Love cross-stitch and quilting? Embrace them! Think weeding the garden by hand is the most satisfying way to spend a Saturday afternoon? Be proud! Prefer alone time to the company of others? Don't apologize! Just because contemporary culture can find the joke in any situation doesn't always mean it should. We're allowed to love what we love -- and when we're out and proud about what we love, we tend to enjoy our lives a lot more.

The Fair is real, interactive and shared. At the Fair, we participate: we're a foot away from the cow giving birth; we walk through and touch the sustainable fabrics and earth-friendly flooring in the eco-building; we're on hand to watch a sculptor standing in a room-sized, glass-walled cooler carve the bust of Princess Kay of the Milky Way out of a 90-pound slab of butter. We're not watching it happen on TV, or reading about it on a blog, or playing it in a video game. Part of what makes the Fair magical is that we're really there, experiencing the experience --smelling the deep fried everything, touching the cotton candy, petting the baby piglets -- in a way we can't electronically. Thousands of other happy people are there, too, which only heightens the joy, in so much as joy is contagious and most things are better shared. In a world where electronic diversions and passive entertainments often rule the day, real experiences enrich our lives that much more. The takeaway? Turn off the TV, take off the ear phones, log off the computer and go do something. Adopt a community garden. Go hiking at the nearby park. Make friends with neighbors at the local coffee shop. Volunteer at a pre-school, or animal shelter, or art museum (whatever most inspires you). There's a joy in being part of something -- of participating -- that can never be replicated in pixels.

I love the Minnesota State Fair, which is weird, because, in isolation, every individual component of the Fair is one that I despise. I mean, please! The large crowds, the transfats, the smell of livestock. And I swear you can get Hepatitis C just by looking at the carnival rides.

Yet, inexplicably, the Fair is one of my favorite events of the year. I cannot explain why. Maybe it is the unbridled conviviality. Maybe it is the late August days, languid without being melancholy (a rare feat, I find). Maybe it is the fantastic crop art (It really IS amazing); or the 90-pound butter sculptures of Princess Kay of the Milky Way; or the prize-winning banana breads and jams and flower arrangements and pumpkins and you name it. And maybe, just maybe, it's the deep-fried pickles on a stick, though I wouldn't know since I would never eat something so unhealthy. Ahem.

What do you find inexplicably happy-making? Whatever it is, I say make it a small (or big!) part of your day today. The hectic pace and perma-stress of modern life often crowds out life's giddy little joys. So before the more serious and scholarly mindset of autumn rolls around -- and we roll back our sleeves and set our minds to big projects and prepare for winter  -- sneak out of your obligations for an afternoon and do something giddy and silly and wonderful.

You won't regret it. And if your indulgence happens to be the same as mine, I'll meet you at Sweet Martha's cookie stand. But I'm not splitting my bucket of cookies. You'll have to get your own! (Not, of course, that I would know what those unhealthy cookies taste like. I mean, please!).

At the rate The Squirrel (above) naps, she's the most political dog in the world.

True to my last post, and with the idea of vacations and taking a break on my mind (see my last post), I headed up the block to TeaSource for a cup of afternoon tea. While I was en route, a car drove past with the following bumper sticker: "The most radical thing a woman can do is rest when she is tired."

How apropos! And what a great perspective: resting as a political act, as taking a stand against our culture of perpetual inertia and constant productivity. Napping isn't just for the tired anymore! It's the pursuit of the true reformer and activist. So, good citizens -- women and men -- take a stand against being overworked and harried! Do something radical! Take a nap!

I spent a week on the North Shore in April. (Photo credit: Rambling Traveler; licensed under the Creative Commons)

Blogging is blogging because it's casual, relevant and frequent. As in, it happens regularly. As in, twice a week. Or once a week. Or several times a day.

Recently I've fallen short in the frequency department. Here's how I fell off the wagon: a holiday weekend (July 4th) hit, followed by a day or two of vacation, followed by a busy time in the production schedule when I was back at work, followed up by a dismaying few days of underinspiration and general lack of interesting things to say (one could argue that this period is not yet over... ahem).

So today, with a little more time in my schedule, my natural instinct was to start feeling guilty about my lapse. But lately I've been working to fight my natural propensity for guilt, so I began to look for a positive perspective on my long stretch of silence -- and I found it in the importance of vacations.

Now, granted, I was not vacating the office the whole time I was asleep in the blogosphere. But the holiday weekend did kick off my extended stretch, and summer is one of the classic vacation times. So what better time to think about the necessity of vacations?

In March, we ran a story on the critical importance of vacations -- and how our culture doesn't recognize or support the regular taking of them (read No-Vacation Nation here). In short, the story recounted how vacations are necessary not just for health and happiness, but also for success and productivity. Yet we Americans take far too few of them. Another seminal point in the story is that when many of us DO take vacation, we take some work -- maybe a laptop or our blackberry -- with us.

We don't ever truly vacate from our duties and responsibilities. We're always connected -- dizzyingly so -- with our work, our to-do lists, our daily tasks, our online audience, be it comprised of one reader (Hi, Aunt!) or 100,000. We rarely, if ever, fully step out of our daily routines.

Yes, it's in our cultural DNA to work round the clock -- our country was built on the idea of hard work and ritual sacrifice. But it's in the best interest of our health to take a break now and then. And not just by turning off the phone for an evening. We need to really disconnect, get away, take more than a long weekend. These longer breaks give us the opportunity both to reconnect with our true selves (who we are as human beings as opposed to human doings) as well as with family, health, dreams, goals, sleep, leisure, and joy.

I stumbled across a recent New York Times article on the exhaustion (sometimes deadly) of round the clock blogging -- and, indeed, it would seem that, as the author Matt Richtel suggests, 24/7 blogging and continual connectivity is the 21st Century sweatshop. The digital dawn has made our lives easier in many respects, but it also asks us to pay for that ease with our time and near constant attention.

While I'm not in any way comparing myself to those fevered 24/7 bloggers -- hardly! -- I think with the completion of this post I'll take a mini-vacation break for tea and a bowl of raspberries in whole milk. And you, having just read this post, should turn off the computer and do the same.

My free cup didn't have whip cream. Sigh. Maybe I'd have drunk it if it did. (Photo credit: Scott Beale / Laughing Squid)

Having woken up late (per the usual), skipped breakfast and hair washing (sorry, aesthetics), I was flying to work one day last week when I realized that I wouldn't make it through my morning meeting if I didn't get something to eat. So I breezed into an upscale chain bakery that happened to be en route.

Me to Cashier: I'll have one of those buttery, quiche-y, egg-and-spinach-y things to go.

Cashier: Comin' up! Would you like a cup of coffee with that? We're giving away a small cup of coffee with the purchase of buttery, quiche-y, egg-and-spinach-y things!!!

Me (desperate for a cup of coffee, but having just spied the stack of Styrofoam to-go cups from which, on (health) principle, I do not drink): No, thanks. I'm okay.

Cashier (undeterred): C'mon it's free! I'll get you a cup!!

Me (lying): No, no. I've had too much this morning already. But, thanks.

Cashier: Nonsense! There's no such thing as too much caffeine -- and it's free! Here! Here's your free cup! Take it, it's free!

Me: . . .

Cashier (beaming): . . .

This free cup of coffee should have made my morning, right? Been a bright spot in an otherwise routine day? I mean, what kind of loser gets depressed when they get something for free?

Well, I was depressed. So by my own logic I concluded I was a loser and just got on with my commute. But later I thought about it more, and something dawned on me: right from the start, my free cup of coffee was far from free.

First off, the cup was made of polystyrene foam, a dangerous synthetic material that has been known to leech toxic materials into the beverages it contains (polystyrene contains benzene, a known human carcinogen). The stuff also takes over 900 years to biodegrade and causes starvation in marine wildlife (polystyrene is one of the most ubiquitous marine pollutants). What's more, producing polystyrene is a huge energy hog. That adds up to a pretty steep environmental and personal health cost for a "free" cup of coffee.

Next, there was the cost to my newly clean car. After I poured the coffee on the grass, the cup was about to become free-floating garbage in my beleaguered Subaru. This seems like a small cost in the grand scheme of things, I know. But stuff adds up, and it takes a psychic toll (especially if, like me, your car tends to serve manifold functions, including purse/lunch cart/storage unit/roving Dumpster). This cup = more stuff = more psychic toll. (The high number of consumer products produced today also takes an environmental toll. Check out the great interactive video, The Story of Stuff, for a clear-eyed picture of the life cycle of stuff.)

Another cost of my free cup of coffee? My annoyance at my inability to refuse it. I felt like I'd been forced into the free coffee, but in reality, most cases of feeling forced into something are really cases of us having said yes despite our wish to say no. So then I became annoyed with myself for having not stuck to my guns and said no. Then I became doubly annoyed that such a simple thing should be so hard to say no to, and then I became triply annoyed that boundaries and limitations and being clear are such hard things to master. I'm an adult, for goodness sake. How hard is it to set a boundary with the bakery counter guy?

I've read that getting better at saying no takes practice (read more on how to say no here), and that the best place to start practicing is in low-stakes settings like, say, a bakery. Sigh. I guess I need more practice. So I'm heading back to the bakery tomorrow, but just in case I still can't refuse, I'm bringing my own refillable mug. Then, at least, good coffee won't go to waste.