134/365 - PH
You had an antique pinball machine on the porch. Somehow it got jammed. My attempts to fix it failed, so you came, took it apart, and showed me how, explaining the complexities of that little machine all the while. You would die three days later.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Grief
I cried. I did. I cried and told him that he had hurt my feelings. He felt awful, apologized, and said he didn't mean it. We are fine.
*********************************
When it rains, it pours. In 2005, I wrote this about my aunt who was really sick. That was almost four years ago. Since then she has valiantly been battling lung cancer and today, this morning, she died.
There are no words to tell you how much this woman means to me. I grieve, even as I smile and say I'm glad she's no longer in pain. I grieve, even as I tell my cousin, her daughter, that she can get through the next week, next month, next year, without her mom. I grieve.
She took her three kids, my sister, and me up to the mountains where we picked wild blueberries. We climbed back down and she made us blueberry pancakes for dinner. We biked down to the ice cream place, but she made us buy frozen yogurt because it was healthier. She let me drive that old clunker around the field even though I wasn't old enough and had never driven before. She sent me box after box after box of trashy romance novels when I was in college. She loved her husband, her kids, her family, and her pet birds. She was one of the punniest, cleverest people I've ever met.
Just yesterday I put a card in the mail for her. I'm sorry she won't get a chance to see it, but I'm glad that I have sent her card after card for the last four years.
I will miss her.
*********************************
When it rains, it pours. In 2005, I wrote this about my aunt who was really sick. That was almost four years ago. Since then she has valiantly been battling lung cancer and today, this morning, she died.
There are no words to tell you how much this woman means to me. I grieve, even as I smile and say I'm glad she's no longer in pain. I grieve, even as I tell my cousin, her daughter, that she can get through the next week, next month, next year, without her mom. I grieve.
She took her three kids, my sister, and me up to the mountains where we picked wild blueberries. We climbed back down and she made us blueberry pancakes for dinner. We biked down to the ice cream place, but she made us buy frozen yogurt because it was healthier. She let me drive that old clunker around the field even though I wasn't old enough and had never driven before. She sent me box after box after box of trashy romance novels when I was in college. She loved her husband, her kids, her family, and her pet birds. She was one of the punniest, cleverest people I've ever met.
Just yesterday I put a card in the mail for her. I'm sorry she won't get a chance to see it, but I'm glad that I have sent her card after card for the last four years.
I will miss her.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
45 x 365 #133
133/365 - LH
Curly hair. The tight ringlets were always your nemesis. So you put on flannel shirts, combat boots, and wore jeans three sizes too big. When you told your parents you were exclusively dating women, they rolled their eyes. Of course. The knew the whole while.
Curly hair. The tight ringlets were always your nemesis. So you put on flannel shirts, combat boots, and wore jeans three sizes too big. When you told your parents you were exclusively dating women, they rolled their eyes. Of course. The knew the whole while.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Stabby
It wasn't meant to hurt my feelings. Carelessly spoken, an offhand comment meant to convey information, but not to hurt. But it really did. A sharp immediate hurt through my heart. I knew, almost immediately, that I would roll those words around in my mind for the foreseeable future. I would try and figure out what I could have done differently, what I could have said differently, to avoid those words.
Intellectually I know that I should let it go. Place it my palms, breathe in deeply, and expel it into the ether.
Emotionally I can't do that. I just keep hearing those words.
Now I have blocked myself off. He knows there's something wrong, but I can't explain it. I can't explain why those words, among all the others spoken, echo in my mind. I can't explain why I silently look at him, becoming monosyllabic and withdrawn.
I will, before too long, shed a few tears quietly and let it go. But even once I do that, I will have to accept that mistakes have been made, my judgment is not as sharp as I once thought, and love is an amorphous thing with ever changing boundaries.
Intellectually I know that I should let it go. Place it my palms, breathe in deeply, and expel it into the ether.
Emotionally I can't do that. I just keep hearing those words.
Now I have blocked myself off. He knows there's something wrong, but I can't explain it. I can't explain why those words, among all the others spoken, echo in my mind. I can't explain why I silently look at him, becoming monosyllabic and withdrawn.
I will, before too long, shed a few tears quietly and let it go. But even once I do that, I will have to accept that mistakes have been made, my judgment is not as sharp as I once thought, and love is an amorphous thing with ever changing boundaries.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
45 x 365 #132
132/365 - NH
You listened so carefully. Maybe you were waiting for a sign from me? You hated it when I would sing along to the music in stores. I loved your mom so much. I held on to you for far too long, hoping to keep her.
You listened so carefully. Maybe you were waiting for a sign from me? You hated it when I would sing along to the music in stores. I loved your mom so much. I held on to you for far too long, hoping to keep her.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
45 x 365 #131
131/365 - NW
Drinking the pink milk after eating the Fruity Pebbles. Spending forever setting up Mousetrap only to realize it was a boring game after minutes. Sitting on the front porch, leaning against her legs. Cold iced tea in tall glasses. Fuzzy memories of someone important long gone.
Drinking the pink milk after eating the Fruity Pebbles. Spending forever setting up Mousetrap only to realize it was a boring game after minutes. Sitting on the front porch, leaning against her legs. Cold iced tea in tall glasses. Fuzzy memories of someone important long gone.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
45 x 365 #130
130/365 - JG
The first time I met you, you smashed your fist into the wall. Later on that fist smashed into the hood of her Ford Taurus. When she broke up with you, you sobbed in my arms. I felt only the joy knowing she got away.
The first time I met you, you smashed your fist into the wall. Later on that fist smashed into the hood of her Ford Taurus. When she broke up with you, you sobbed in my arms. I felt only the joy knowing she got away.
Monday, March 23, 2009
45 x 365 #129
129/365 - JG
You were in that awful accident; you watched your brother and best friend die. After that, you ran wild, but we made excuses for you. We watched you sink into an abyss. I don't know where you are now, but I hope you climbed out.
You were in that awful accident; you watched your brother and best friend die. After that, you ran wild, but we made excuses for you. We watched you sink into an abyss. I don't know where you are now, but I hope you climbed out.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
45 x 365 #128
128/365 - JG
You were my protector. No one dared mention my shabby clothes, my lack of a lunch, my impossibly shy sister, or the bruises when you would throw your arm around me and walk with me across the hall. Not one of them said a word.
You were my protector. No one dared mention my shabby clothes, my lack of a lunch, my impossibly shy sister, or the bruises when you would throw your arm around me and walk with me across the hall. Not one of them said a word.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
45 x 365 #127
127/365 - KM
We screamed along to that John Michael Montgomery song on our way to that away football game. You wore your cheerleader's uniform and I had painted TCHS on my cheek. You were beautiful, joyous, and all I ever wanted to be. We all miss you.
We screamed along to that John Michael Montgomery song on our way to that away football game. You wore your cheerleader's uniform and I had painted TCHS on my cheek. You were beautiful, joyous, and all I ever wanted to be. We all miss you.
Friday, March 20, 2009
45 x 365 #126
126/365 - SK
You birthed eight children, raised them in a tiny house with a man who cared nothing for them, and seem shocked by their current inabilities to hold steady jobs or care for their own broods. I often wonder what you thought would happen to them.
You birthed eight children, raised them in a tiny house with a man who cared nothing for them, and seem shocked by their current inabilities to hold steady jobs or care for their own broods. I often wonder what you thought would happen to them.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
45 x 365 #125
125/365 - PS
They didn't like you. At first. As the years went by you changed flat tires, patched up walls, fixed too many leaky pipes to count. They grew to accept you. As your wife was dying, poisoned by your smoking, they forgot all but the first.
They didn't like you. At first. As the years went by you changed flat tires, patched up walls, fixed too many leaky pipes to count. They grew to accept you. As your wife was dying, poisoned by your smoking, they forgot all but the first.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
45 x 365 #124
124/365 - RT
The youngest child and only son in a family of five. A small child with a speech impediment many hours of therapy have not quite corrected. An awkward and socially inept tween desperate to be older and more integral in your enormous extended family.
The youngest child and only son in a family of five. A small child with a speech impediment many hours of therapy have not quite corrected. An awkward and socially inept tween desperate to be older and more integral in your enormous extended family.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Stop The Presses
My eye won't stop twitching.
Google tells me that this could be caused by a few things: exposure to overly bright lights, being overly tired, heredity, or anxiety. Or it might be an early sign of a chronic movement disorder or an unspecified neurological disorder.
I vote for brain tumor.
Why do our bodies turn on us in times of stress? I would like to think that when I'm stressed out, I can depend on my body. Instead it freaks out, makes my eye pulsate when I'm innocently trying to teach a class, and refuses to even attempt that downward facing dog yoga pose.
It's not a brain tumor. It's stress. I get it. The stress radiates around me. My office mate told me I had stress vibes all day. I've tried. Yesterday I even went to the mall. By myself. (Which, by the way, spring fashion is NOT friendly for those of who don't want to wear hot pink, florescent orange, or any variant of the color yellow. Gap, Old Navy, and Express - I'm talking to YOU.) I've been reading a lot, watching plenty of bad television, and window shopping on Etsy. Let's not talk about the hours of working out, including yoga, I've been doing.
But my brain doesn't know that it's okay for it to be relaxed. My brain knows that there are things going on. Sure, there's nothing my brain can do about these things, but it's still engaged. It wants to fix things and since it can't, it's telling my body TO FREAK THE FUCK OUT. (My eye just twitched.)
Any advice on stopping the twitches? How do I relax? What can I do differently? Somebody HELP ME!!! Before I stab my eye with a hot poker.
Google tells me that this could be caused by a few things: exposure to overly bright lights, being overly tired, heredity, or anxiety. Or it might be an early sign of a chronic movement disorder or an unspecified neurological disorder.
I vote for brain tumor.
Why do our bodies turn on us in times of stress? I would like to think that when I'm stressed out, I can depend on my body. Instead it freaks out, makes my eye pulsate when I'm innocently trying to teach a class, and refuses to even attempt that downward facing dog yoga pose.
It's not a brain tumor. It's stress. I get it. The stress radiates around me. My office mate told me I had stress vibes all day. I've tried. Yesterday I even went to the mall. By myself. (Which, by the way, spring fashion is NOT friendly for those of who don't want to wear hot pink, florescent orange, or any variant of the color yellow. Gap, Old Navy, and Express - I'm talking to YOU.) I've been reading a lot, watching plenty of bad television, and window shopping on Etsy. Let's not talk about the hours of working out, including yoga, I've been doing.
But my brain doesn't know that it's okay for it to be relaxed. My brain knows that there are things going on. Sure, there's nothing my brain can do about these things, but it's still engaged. It wants to fix things and since it can't, it's telling my body TO FREAK THE FUCK OUT. (My eye just twitched.)
Any advice on stopping the twitches? How do I relax? What can I do differently? Somebody HELP ME!!! Before I stab my eye with a hot poker.
45 x 365 #123
123/365 - RW
You were nice at first; gradually we felt your anger trickle through the false smiles and hugs. The culmination was an angry email sent to me about my wedding guest list. You've managed to create a superficial relationship in which we merely exchange holiday cards.
You were nice at first; gradually we felt your anger trickle through the false smiles and hugs. The culmination was an angry email sent to me about my wedding guest list. You've managed to create a superficial relationship in which we merely exchange holiday cards.
Monday, March 16, 2009
45 x 365 #122
122/365 - BH
It didn't matter that we were awkward and unsure. We relaxed under our guidance, your gentle teasing. We gradually became more ourselves despite the feared camera. You made us beautiful and showed us the grace that comes with being in love with your whole being.
It didn't matter that we were awkward and unsure. We relaxed under our guidance, your gentle teasing. We gradually became more ourselves despite the feared camera. You made us beautiful and showed us the grace that comes with being in love with your whole being.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
45 x 365 #121
121/365 - CV
A summer of freedom. You ate cookies you found at a dump. We laughed. We drove really fast. We listened to music really loud. We held hands when we walked down the street. We made love. You made me smile and healed my battered soul.
A summer of freedom. You ate cookies you found at a dump. We laughed. We drove really fast. We listened to music really loud. We held hands when we walked down the street. We made love. You made me smile and healed my battered soul.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
45 x 365 #120
120/365 - BV
With all the grace in the world, you acclimated to a new culture, a new language, and a new climate. But one day there was a dumb joke about some American pop culture icon of days long past that you didn't understand. You looked crestfallen.
With all the grace in the world, you acclimated to a new culture, a new language, and a new climate. But one day there was a dumb joke about some American pop culture icon of days long past that you didn't understand. You looked crestfallen.
Eek!
We received lots of words of encouragement about doing taxes this year. Several married couples told us that we'd get lots of money back. We were very excited! Filing jointly would be fun! We'd giggle at the small amounts we had to declare ($11 interest from our savings account!).
So imagine our dismay when we learned this morning, after spending hours doing our taxes that this "saving money by filing together" rumor was. . . very untrue. The amount we owed the federal and state governments was disturbingly large. I had just gotten my checking account to a decent level and now this!
Eek!
So imagine our dismay when we learned this morning, after spending hours doing our taxes that this "saving money by filing together" rumor was. . . very untrue. The amount we owed the federal and state governments was disturbingly large. I had just gotten my checking account to a decent level and now this!
Eek!
Friday, March 13, 2009
45 x 365 #119
119/365 - AB
The day I saw the fine lines around your eyes I knew that your perpetually smiling shell hid deep concerns and fears. Whenever life would be too much, I would call you, crying, asking for consolation. You never asked me to return that favor.
The day I saw the fine lines around your eyes I knew that your perpetually smiling shell hid deep concerns and fears. Whenever life would be too much, I would call you, crying, asking for consolation. You never asked me to return that favor.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
A Long Time Coming
On her wedding day, lo those many years ago, we silently drove to the hair salon. It was only her and I, a quiet time before all the chaos that even a small wedding can create.
The silence was weighted down with all the words left unspoken.
Are you sure? Is this making you happy? Is this what you want?
Even then her cell phone would ring constantly. He wanted reassurance that she would actually be there if he showed up. Years later, the constant cell phone ring would become a theme as she and I rode in a different car, in a different city, to a different salon for my wedding.
I joked with her at the salon. I took pictures of hair all up in tangles. I told her how beautiful she was.
When we got back in the car, the silence spoke volumes.
He had threatened once to kill me if I didn't stop calling her and if I didn't stop saying bad things about him. It wasn't a credible threat, as I lived a state away, but the words haunted my nightmares for months and months.
She stopped at a stop light. I can still see her face, so heart-stoppingly beautiful, as she turned to me.
She started with just a nickname only she can call me. "I know you think I'm beautiful and funny and wonderful, but not everyone does. Sometimes when he looks at me, I even think he loves me."
My heart broke right there.
"You are. You are beautiful. You are funny. You are my best friend. I love you no matter what."
I swallowed hard and told her a lie. "And of course he loves you. Who wouldn't?"
I knew that as I stood up there as her maid of honor, I would be wishing all the time that the marriage wasn't taking place.
It wasn't my finest hour. After the bride and groom left the building, I started taking out the presents to her car. Now their car, I guess. There was an awkward incident where I sobbed in the arms of a guy who once broke my heart, all while his new girlfriend stared at me. I drove her car to her mom and dad's house, silently went up to the guest room, and cried myself to sleep.
Manipulative. Abusive. Abrasive. Lazy.
He did manage to drive a wedge between us. For two months, we didn't talk. I cried. I wanted my best friend back. Oh, God, I'm crying now, just thinking about those two months.
I called her mom. I didn't know what else to do. We worked out a plan that we would not talk about him with her. If she brought it up, we would do what we could to comfort her, but we wouldn't bring it up. We just wanted her to talk to us again.
I'd try and call her in that ten minute span of time when she wasn't with him. It wasn't the same, but eventually the joking and the laughter came back. As long as he wasn't within earshot.
The baby was born. He is the best thing that man ever did.
She took baby steps towards regaining that independence. She set up an email account he didn't know about. We finally started communicating again in the way that best friends do.
And last weekend, she packed up the baby, a bag, and she left him. She left him.
That's not my story to tell, all the details, all the pain, all the decisions. But this is my story.
I can't be more excited to have my best friend back.
The silence was weighted down with all the words left unspoken.
Are you sure? Is this making you happy? Is this what you want?
Even then her cell phone would ring constantly. He wanted reassurance that she would actually be there if he showed up. Years later, the constant cell phone ring would become a theme as she and I rode in a different car, in a different city, to a different salon for my wedding.
I joked with her at the salon. I took pictures of hair all up in tangles. I told her how beautiful she was.
When we got back in the car, the silence spoke volumes.
He had threatened once to kill me if I didn't stop calling her and if I didn't stop saying bad things about him. It wasn't a credible threat, as I lived a state away, but the words haunted my nightmares for months and months.
She stopped at a stop light. I can still see her face, so heart-stoppingly beautiful, as she turned to me.
She started with just a nickname only she can call me. "I know you think I'm beautiful and funny and wonderful, but not everyone does. Sometimes when he looks at me, I even think he loves me."
My heart broke right there.
"You are. You are beautiful. You are funny. You are my best friend. I love you no matter what."
I swallowed hard and told her a lie. "And of course he loves you. Who wouldn't?"
I knew that as I stood up there as her maid of honor, I would be wishing all the time that the marriage wasn't taking place.
It wasn't my finest hour. After the bride and groom left the building, I started taking out the presents to her car. Now their car, I guess. There was an awkward incident where I sobbed in the arms of a guy who once broke my heart, all while his new girlfriend stared at me. I drove her car to her mom and dad's house, silently went up to the guest room, and cried myself to sleep.
Manipulative. Abusive. Abrasive. Lazy.
He did manage to drive a wedge between us. For two months, we didn't talk. I cried. I wanted my best friend back. Oh, God, I'm crying now, just thinking about those two months.
I called her mom. I didn't know what else to do. We worked out a plan that we would not talk about him with her. If she brought it up, we would do what we could to comfort her, but we wouldn't bring it up. We just wanted her to talk to us again.
I'd try and call her in that ten minute span of time when she wasn't with him. It wasn't the same, but eventually the joking and the laughter came back. As long as he wasn't within earshot.
The baby was born. He is the best thing that man ever did.
She took baby steps towards regaining that independence. She set up an email account he didn't know about. We finally started communicating again in the way that best friends do.
And last weekend, she packed up the baby, a bag, and she left him. She left him.
That's not my story to tell, all the details, all the pain, all the decisions. But this is my story.
I can't be more excited to have my best friend back.
45 x 365 #118
118/365 - MS
A conversation never has a chance to lull with you around. With a quick smile, you always turn the talk around to something interesting to all parties involved. I've never been as impressed by someones ability to make small talk intriguing and (sometimes) even fun.
A conversation never has a chance to lull with you around. With a quick smile, you always turn the talk around to something interesting to all parties involved. I've never been as impressed by someones ability to make small talk intriguing and (sometimes) even fun.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
You're Welcome, USPS
I know I've mentioned my adoration of greeting cards in the past, but I don't think I've ever actually listed how many articles of mail I mail during the course of a week. Here's what I'm putting in the mail tomorrow.
1) A birthday card and present for my father. His birthday is Saturday. I'm doubtful that it will get there in time, but at least I mailed it before Saturday!! We picked up a cute little something for him at an antique shop in Stillwater. It turns out that the town is made up of basically bed and breakfasts, antique shops, and townie bars. Great fun.
2) Two credit card bills, paid in full. Suck it, ever increasing APRs. I feel like every month now I have to get on the phone and call my credit card company to remind them what a good customer I am and to stop increasing my interest rate, already.
3) A birthday card to BB's brother. His birthday is on Friday. Hmmm...there's more of a chance that this one will arrive on time than my father's, but not really. I am horrible with the ontimeness thing of birthday cards.
4) A card to my grandmother. She's old. She doesn't leave the house much. I told her all about our stay at the bed and breakfast this weekend. I like to think she'll live vicariously through my adventures.
5) A card to an elderly woman I used to work with years and years ago. She's old. She doesn't leave the house much. I adore her because she used to tell us, in her old quavery voice, about stories of her youth. Apparently she was quite the wild thing. She used to sneak out of her house with a key she had secretly made and meet her boyfriend, a fairly rebellious guy with a Harley. She only dated him for the bike rides and she told us over and over again how difficult it was to avoid his advances for intimacy. Then she'd give us tips on how to avoid these untoward advances. I guess she thought we'd need them, not realizing that the closest my co-worker and I had gotten to the opposite sex in the months we'd worked there was sitting next to guys in the courtroom who'd been accused of domestic violence. Anyway, I love her. I hope my card brings her happiness like her stories bring me happiness even now.
6) A postcard to a friend sort of bragging about my bed and breakfast stay last weekend.
7) A postcard to my cousin. Her mom is dying. I worry that she's taking care of her mom so much she's forgetting to take care of herself.
8) A postcard to one of BB's friends from college. We have a sporadic correspondence that always cracks my shit up. I think she'll be amused by the postcard.
9) A postcard to a friend I haven't heard from in a long time. I think she may be breaking up with me as a friend. If she doesn't respond to the postcard in some way (email, phone call, or something), I'll know she is.
And that's just today. I usually do this slew of mailings once a week. The boy thinks it's weird, but I know better. It brings me joy to think of people opening their mailboxes and seeing something that isn't junk mail or bills. It brings me joy to think of people stepping outside of the awful news on tv and into the memories of good times past. I love mail and I love sending mail.
I hope this encourages people to send someone they love a little note in the same way that this post from Definitely RA encouraged me.
1) A birthday card and present for my father. His birthday is Saturday. I'm doubtful that it will get there in time, but at least I mailed it before Saturday!! We picked up a cute little something for him at an antique shop in Stillwater. It turns out that the town is made up of basically bed and breakfasts, antique shops, and townie bars. Great fun.
2) Two credit card bills, paid in full. Suck it, ever increasing APRs. I feel like every month now I have to get on the phone and call my credit card company to remind them what a good customer I am and to stop increasing my interest rate, already.
3) A birthday card to BB's brother. His birthday is on Friday. Hmmm...there's more of a chance that this one will arrive on time than my father's, but not really. I am horrible with the ontimeness thing of birthday cards.
4) A card to my grandmother. She's old. She doesn't leave the house much. I told her all about our stay at the bed and breakfast this weekend. I like to think she'll live vicariously through my adventures.
5) A card to an elderly woman I used to work with years and years ago. She's old. She doesn't leave the house much. I adore her because she used to tell us, in her old quavery voice, about stories of her youth. Apparently she was quite the wild thing. She used to sneak out of her house with a key she had secretly made and meet her boyfriend, a fairly rebellious guy with a Harley. She only dated him for the bike rides and she told us over and over again how difficult it was to avoid his advances for intimacy. Then she'd give us tips on how to avoid these untoward advances. I guess she thought we'd need them, not realizing that the closest my co-worker and I had gotten to the opposite sex in the months we'd worked there was sitting next to guys in the courtroom who'd been accused of domestic violence. Anyway, I love her. I hope my card brings her happiness like her stories bring me happiness even now.
6) A postcard to a friend sort of bragging about my bed and breakfast stay last weekend.
7) A postcard to my cousin. Her mom is dying. I worry that she's taking care of her mom so much she's forgetting to take care of herself.
8) A postcard to one of BB's friends from college. We have a sporadic correspondence that always cracks my shit up. I think she'll be amused by the postcard.
9) A postcard to a friend I haven't heard from in a long time. I think she may be breaking up with me as a friend. If she doesn't respond to the postcard in some way (email, phone call, or something), I'll know she is.
And that's just today. I usually do this slew of mailings once a week. The boy thinks it's weird, but I know better. It brings me joy to think of people opening their mailboxes and seeing something that isn't junk mail or bills. It brings me joy to think of people stepping outside of the awful news on tv and into the memories of good times past. I love mail and I love sending mail.
I hope this encourages people to send someone they love a little note in the same way that this post from Definitely RA encouraged me.
45 x 365 #117
117/365 - MP
You made me feel like my words were worth something, like I was important, like you dreamed about us forever. You calmed me. The pain came so suddenly; the tears that fell were just as much for that dream deferred as for my poor heart.
You made me feel like my words were worth something, like I was important, like you dreamed about us forever. You calmed me. The pain came so suddenly; the tears that fell were just as much for that dream deferred as for my poor heart.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
45 x 365 #116
Monday, March 09, 2009
45 x 365 #115
115/365 - CV
We were paired together in a backyard beanbag throwing contest. You apologized profusely each time you failed to score, apparently not noticing that not a single one of my bag ever touched the scoreboard. You're brilliant, but somehow lacking the most basic of self-esteem.
We were paired together in a backyard beanbag throwing contest. You apologized profusely each time you failed to score, apparently not noticing that not a single one of my bag ever touched the scoreboard. You're brilliant, but somehow lacking the most basic of self-esteem.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
45 x 365 #114
114/365 - KB
You married the son of a judge for the social standing. When your husband failed to live up to his familial station, you surprised everyone by giving up your own expectations and loving and supporting him as he grew further and further from that lifestyle.
You married the son of a judge for the social standing. When your husband failed to live up to his familial station, you surprised everyone by giving up your own expectations and loving and supporting him as he grew further and further from that lifestyle.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Ten Guilty Pleasures
1) Trashy books. I can't help it. I know I'm supposed to read intellectual things. But, the truth is, I am not interested in intellectual types things. Unless it is an intellectual type thing wrapped up in trash. (For instance, I just read Sudhir Venkatesh's Gang Leader For a Day which is the popular culture version of a grad student in sociology did for his dissertation work. It was rather light reading, but when the boy caught me reading it, I told him I was just doing some "research" on participant observation. Because I like me some methods readings, of course.)
So, I like Nora Roberts and her alter ego JD Robb, Judith McNaught, Sue Grafton, and Barbara Delinsky. I escape from the real world with my entertainment and that includes the reading I do! I should probably apologize for this, but I can't find it in myself to do so.
2) Baby clothes shopping. This obsession has been well documented here. I can't seem to stop myself from compulsively buying adorable baby items, especially socks. The situation is so bad that I am forced to hide my baby purchases from the boy, so I think this definitely qualifies as a guilty pleasure, maybe even bordering on addiction.
3) Endless games of Boggle. I just keep starting new games. Over and over and over again. This is one of the reasons we don't actually own a gaming system. I think I would never be able to step away!!
4) Gossip-related entertainments shows. TMZ, Entertainment Tonight, Extra...I watch them all. See, the thing is, the boy and I have a lot of fights about this. He things it's just perpetuating the problem of the dumbing down of America, the explotiation of celebrities, and the dumb lawsuits resulting from paparazzi being dumb. And I can't argue with him. But, see, we don't have royalty in the United States. These people are our royalty. I need to know the intimate details of Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal's life!!
5) Steaming hot showers. Mother Earth gets angry with me every morning. So does my skin. But, in this case, my impulsive control lets me down. It just feels so good!!
6) Secret moments alone with food I shouldn't eat. Sometimes when I go to the fancy grocery story, I buy one of the mini loaves of French bread and wolf it down in the car. It's wrong, but oh so right. Once every three or four months, I go through the McDonald's drive through and order a small fry. And wolf them down in like thirty seconds. Then I air out the car and pretend like I have no idea how that fry got wedged in between the seats.
7) The two hours I have alone in our apartment on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. I know I should be doing something productive with this time, but instead I just send emails, read blogs, catch up on my Perez Hilton updates, and listen to music. If I hide in our office, I can barely hear the kid screaming next door. It's like an island of loveliness.
8) My music. I can't help it. The boy recently burned me a copy of Bon Jovi's Crossroad CD and I listen to it loudly. All the time. If the boy hears "Livin' on a Prayer" one more time, I think he might shoot the speakers out and strangle me. I wish I had cooler taste in music, but between Taylor Swift, Bon Jovi, and Garth Brooks, I'm a happy little camper!
9) The several drawers of hosiery I own. It's an addiction. I love socks, hose, and tights. I love funky patterns, disturbingly bright colors, and the texture of sheer silk against my legs. I even love buying socks for the boy. Oh, socks. It's a delightful extra oomph to any outfit to have super awesome socks.
10) A weekend away with my husband. Whoo and hoo. This time tomorrow, we're going to be gone!!! Away!! It's costing us way more money than we thought that two days away ever would cost us, but it's totally going to be worth it. Peace out. I'll be back on Sunday.
So, I like Nora Roberts and her alter ego JD Robb, Judith McNaught, Sue Grafton, and Barbara Delinsky. I escape from the real world with my entertainment and that includes the reading I do! I should probably apologize for this, but I can't find it in myself to do so.
2) Baby clothes shopping. This obsession has been well documented here. I can't seem to stop myself from compulsively buying adorable baby items, especially socks. The situation is so bad that I am forced to hide my baby purchases from the boy, so I think this definitely qualifies as a guilty pleasure, maybe even bordering on addiction.
3) Endless games of Boggle. I just keep starting new games. Over and over and over again. This is one of the reasons we don't actually own a gaming system. I think I would never be able to step away!!
4) Gossip-related entertainments shows. TMZ, Entertainment Tonight, Extra...I watch them all. See, the thing is, the boy and I have a lot of fights about this. He things it's just perpetuating the problem of the dumbing down of America, the explotiation of celebrities, and the dumb lawsuits resulting from paparazzi being dumb. And I can't argue with him. But, see, we don't have royalty in the United States. These people are our royalty. I need to know the intimate details of Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal's life!!
5) Steaming hot showers. Mother Earth gets angry with me every morning. So does my skin. But, in this case, my impulsive control lets me down. It just feels so good!!
6) Secret moments alone with food I shouldn't eat. Sometimes when I go to the fancy grocery story, I buy one of the mini loaves of French bread and wolf it down in the car. It's wrong, but oh so right. Once every three or four months, I go through the McDonald's drive through and order a small fry. And wolf them down in like thirty seconds. Then I air out the car and pretend like I have no idea how that fry got wedged in between the seats.
7) The two hours I have alone in our apartment on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. I know I should be doing something productive with this time, but instead I just send emails, read blogs, catch up on my Perez Hilton updates, and listen to music. If I hide in our office, I can barely hear the kid screaming next door. It's like an island of loveliness.
8) My music. I can't help it. The boy recently burned me a copy of Bon Jovi's Crossroad CD and I listen to it loudly. All the time. If the boy hears "Livin' on a Prayer" one more time, I think he might shoot the speakers out and strangle me. I wish I had cooler taste in music, but between Taylor Swift, Bon Jovi, and Garth Brooks, I'm a happy little camper!
9) The several drawers of hosiery I own. It's an addiction. I love socks, hose, and tights. I love funky patterns, disturbingly bright colors, and the texture of sheer silk against my legs. I even love buying socks for the boy. Oh, socks. It's a delightful extra oomph to any outfit to have super awesome socks.
10) A weekend away with my husband. Whoo and hoo. This time tomorrow, we're going to be gone!!! Away!! It's costing us way more money than we thought that two days away ever would cost us, but it's totally going to be worth it. Peace out. I'll be back on Sunday.
45 x 365 #113
113/365 - CP
You told me not to get married. You told me marriage was awful. You told me that you envied me my freedom. You told me marriage would end all that. You were wrong; I am sorry your life isn't everything you wanted it to be.
You told me not to get married. You told me marriage was awful. You told me that you envied me my freedom. You told me marriage would end all that. You were wrong; I am sorry your life isn't everything you wanted it to be.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
45 x 365 #112
112/365 - CD
Your irresponsibility continues to amaze me. After the last time, I had the guts to ask you if you'd ever heard of a condom. You laughed, but the woman sitting just looked down at her hands. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.
Your irresponsibility continues to amaze me. After the last time, I had the guts to ask you if you'd ever heard of a condom. You laughed, but the woman sitting just looked down at her hands. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
45 x 365 #111
111/365 - SW
We'd go to the karaoke bar armed with our performance names, tight clothes, and dark eyeshadow; we'd escape from the pressures of our jobs by singing Nickelback songs badly in front of a group of men who thought we were the hottest things in town.
We'd go to the karaoke bar armed with our performance names, tight clothes, and dark eyeshadow; we'd escape from the pressures of our jobs by singing Nickelback songs badly in front of a group of men who thought we were the hottest things in town.
Monday, March 02, 2009
45 x 365 #110
110/365 - WR
You were beyond drunk as I drove you home. Dolly came blaring out when I turned the radio on; you sang along, surprising me with how well you knew Joshua. We sang loud enough that people looked. I fell a little bit in love with you.
You were beyond drunk as I drove you home. Dolly came blaring out when I turned the radio on; you sang along, surprising me with how well you knew Joshua. We sang loud enough that people looked. I fell a little bit in love with you.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Musings from a Freezing Afternoon
As a joke, a friend of mine got me the game Killer Bunnies and the Quest for the Magic Carrot for Christmas. What kind of joke it that, you ask? Well, for those of you who have not memorized all of the facts about me in my 100 Things list (see #99), I am somewhat terrified of rabbits.
(Side note of no import: The kid next door is screaming. Again. I am never going to have children. The end.)
So, it was a joke. But, nonetheless, we (the boy, the gift-giving friend, and I) sat down and played it. It was complicated, but fun. I had a feeling it was a Dungeons and Dragons game for dummies, but I was having a good time. I mean, the game involves KILLING BUNNIES. What more could a girl ask for? Yes, I felt like a big dork when I played the game, but the boy and I quickly became addicted to it. We play it at least once a week. (What? For all that it seems like all I do is watch television, we don't usually watch television. We play board games. You gotta problem with this?)
Yesterday, both of us were going a little bit stir-crazy, stuck inside the apartment all day (bitter cold here, folks) and we went to a certain mall to obtain a few items. We ended up also buying the new booster deck to our Killer Bunnies game!! Because we are nerds. That is all.
I also made reservations at the Rivertown Inn in Stillwater for next weekend (the Longfellow Bedchamber, of course!). We are totally going away and not thinking about school, jobs, or conferences for forty-eight hours straight. I am so excited you would not believe!!
(Side note of no import: The kid next door is screaming. Again. I am never going to have children. The end.)
So, it was a joke. But, nonetheless, we (the boy, the gift-giving friend, and I) sat down and played it. It was complicated, but fun. I had a feeling it was a Dungeons and Dragons game for dummies, but I was having a good time. I mean, the game involves KILLING BUNNIES. What more could a girl ask for? Yes, I felt like a big dork when I played the game, but the boy and I quickly became addicted to it. We play it at least once a week. (What? For all that it seems like all I do is watch television, we don't usually watch television. We play board games. You gotta problem with this?)
Yesterday, both of us were going a little bit stir-crazy, stuck inside the apartment all day (bitter cold here, folks) and we went to a certain mall to obtain a few items. We ended up also buying the new booster deck to our Killer Bunnies game!! Because we are nerds. That is all.
I also made reservations at the Rivertown Inn in Stillwater for next weekend (the Longfellow Bedchamber, of course!). We are totally going away and not thinking about school, jobs, or conferences for forty-eight hours straight. I am so excited you would not believe!!
45 x 365 #109
109/365 - IR
You agree to let your wife foster a nine month old Great Dane puppy. As he grew more and more destructive, your wife grew more and more frustrated. She never talked about getting a dog after they took him away. You are one diabolical man.
You agree to let your wife foster a nine month old Great Dane puppy. As he grew more and more destructive, your wife grew more and more frustrated. She never talked about getting a dog after they took him away. You are one diabolical man.
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