Went hiking today. I felt pretty miserable. embarrassed and pathetic. I got winded so quickly. my knees felt like jello and my legs seemed to weigh a million pounds. It was humiliating. I turned real bitchy real fast. nearly tuned back.
Aaron accused me of always being 'this way' whenever we do anything HE wants to do and claimed to be a saint while doing all the things I want to do. This just pissed me off all the more.
I wasn't trying to foul up his day. I wasn't trying to make him feel miserable.
I was simply and utterly disgusted with myself and with the shape that I'm in.
Good thing it was only a hill and not a mountain-- or else I'd have pitched myself off the side.
About half way up we came to a truce. I made it to the top (which was embarrassingly not too far from the base...), felt very much as though I would vomit, rested and we hiked around in a much more cross-country kind of way and less of a "i want to kill myself" kind of way.
It was a great day for it- not too hot and quite a nice view from the top.
we didn't picnic at the top as originally planned on account of my feeling nauseated and on the verge of heaving my breakfast sandwich all over the blue hills and eventually we headed back down. For kicks we opted to take the ski slope down which was delightfully steep and filled with grasshoppers! Its a wonder we didn't end up twisting our ankles.
Once at the base again we enjoyed the few animal exhibits and happened upon the gift shop. There we baught a bag of kettle cooked popcorn. The cashier, a 17 year old kid, warned us that it had addictive qualities.
Um. It was so good we felt like crazy crack fiends devouring it on the way home. Next time we go hiking we're buying the whole stock!
Maybe that's why I get winded hiking right?
Anyway I decided to stop at an office supply store on the way home since I start the next chapter of my life on tuesday. gulp.
We ran into Adam and Danielle there which was an awesome and pleasant surprise, except it made me feel a little more awkward about my own teaching endeavors as Adam's already an established teaching professional. After we parted ways I basically wandered about the store in a half-hearted daze. Theatre stuff, with very few exceptions, doesn't live in Office Maxx. I had hi-liters a plenty at home so I picked up some binders, some tissues and a note-book holepunch and called it a day. My heart wasn't in it and I just felt wretched to be trying to thin k and feel like a teacher.
I'm so nervous I could probably run away and never be heard from again. I'm nervous that I never should have done this to begin with and that it just isn't my passion and that the kids will sniff that out on day one (they are like dogs in that way) and the whole experience will be miserable. Not to mention the rest of my life.
Bah.
I need shoes.
We had Indian for dinner. It was wonderful, as usual.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Pangs
HGTV has lost its charm for me. We don't have much of a cable selection as we're getting illegal cable for free and HGTV was always reliably enjoyable. But now that I am coming to terms with not winning the lottery and becoming a multimillionaire watching other people enjoy their homes or shopping for homes or getting amazing renovations is not really pleasant. I find myself thinking all kinds of venomous thoughts and this bitter bile builds up until I'm swearing like a drunken sailor at these idiot couples who continuosly fail to see past paint color or who turn down the fixer upper and go with the brand new construction, or who have more money than they know what to do with.
I feel like my father shouting at the tv with such vitriol. So I've been tuning in a lot less.
So I thought I'd leave lifetime television for battered women on the tube during the day for white noise while I did various and sundry. To be honest I was waiting for the repeat of Project Runway since I had to miss it on thursday night, but I am a lifetime movie junkie. I simply LOVE all that dysfunction.
But what came on? Not a delightful thriller about the babysitter seducing the husband or the dad sleeping with his own daughter or a jealously twisted young woman who tries to ruin shannen doherty's perfect life because she once lost a talent competition in third grade (love!) or some other tori spelling mash up of feelings, betrayal, and violence... no. Baby story.
And this reminded me of why I don';t watch lifetime in the day. I used to watch the baby programs ALL THE TIME! They USED to make me happy and pleasantly anticipatory. Now they make me feel dark and ominous feelings that I'd rather never experience.
If you thought my house envy was bad- look out! Here are people having babies half-hour after half-hour while I get older and more sure it will never happen for me. Ugh. It really does seem like most folks are having little bundles of whatever lately. Some people are having their second or third! And for a woman who wants a big family- I'm talking 6-8 kiddies-- watching others start their families or add on to their families is getting old really fast--- like my uterus!
NOT like this is an appropriate time to have a kidlet anyway. For Christ's sake, we live in a studio! I always quip to folks when they ask if we plan to have a baby anytime soon (and yes, how outrageous is that for folks to ask? UGH!), I always say: "Where would I keep the thing? Under the desk?"
So no. No kids. no baby story. no house. no millions.
No job. no money. no prospects really.
I start student teaching this week. I'm sure this blog will just heat up with all sorts of scandal. The lame ass kind of teacher's room scandal that makes for thrilling literature....
I'm hoping I'll be so thoroughly occupied that my mind will stop designing dream kitchens and in-law apartments. That I'll be able to think intellectually again instead of just in an obsessive-compulsive way about ho I'd spend and invest the millions won in the lottery.
Maybe I'll be able to tolerate reading a book again.
And hopefully I'll learn to be as happy as I ahould be with all the wonderful blessings I already have. Why isn't there a tv channel for that? Well, becasue that would be wretchedly boring I'm sure and make other folks as blindingly jealous as I have been for kitchen renovations and offspring.
I just don't feel like myself and I'm terrified of starting next week and I feel like an empty vessel.
I just spent a visit down the cape where I felt on edge and uncomfortable the entire duration. Like I was holding my breath. I had nothing interesting to contribute, nothing witty or even amusing. I was a dull guest. Luckily there seemed to be hundreds of babies and toddlers and children around to distract from my abysmal lack of conversation skills, and plenty of better homes & gardens magazines for me to escape into.
Until I win the millions I vow not to buy any more DIY type magazines. Fuck Kitchen Cabinetry. I have one. One kitchen cabinet. And that's the reality. And I love my little studio fo all its complications and stresses and tiny-ness. I'm going to put away the home design mags, the decoration idea books and all that other SHIT that is making me long for impossible things. Starting today I refuse to tune in to those silly channels.
And I think I might return the orange vinyl purse and glass doorknob I pilfered from my adventures in the house on Arlington street. REALLY say goodbye.
I feel like my father shouting at the tv with such vitriol. So I've been tuning in a lot less.
So I thought I'd leave lifetime television for battered women on the tube during the day for white noise while I did various and sundry. To be honest I was waiting for the repeat of Project Runway since I had to miss it on thursday night, but I am a lifetime movie junkie. I simply LOVE all that dysfunction.
But what came on? Not a delightful thriller about the babysitter seducing the husband or the dad sleeping with his own daughter or a jealously twisted young woman who tries to ruin shannen doherty's perfect life because she once lost a talent competition in third grade (love!) or some other tori spelling mash up of feelings, betrayal, and violence... no. Baby story.
And this reminded me of why I don';t watch lifetime in the day. I used to watch the baby programs ALL THE TIME! They USED to make me happy and pleasantly anticipatory. Now they make me feel dark and ominous feelings that I'd rather never experience.
If you thought my house envy was bad- look out! Here are people having babies half-hour after half-hour while I get older and more sure it will never happen for me. Ugh. It really does seem like most folks are having little bundles of whatever lately. Some people are having their second or third! And for a woman who wants a big family- I'm talking 6-8 kiddies-- watching others start their families or add on to their families is getting old really fast--- like my uterus!
NOT like this is an appropriate time to have a kidlet anyway. For Christ's sake, we live in a studio! I always quip to folks when they ask if we plan to have a baby anytime soon (and yes, how outrageous is that for folks to ask? UGH!), I always say: "Where would I keep the thing? Under the desk?"
So no. No kids. no baby story. no house. no millions.
No job. no money. no prospects really.
I start student teaching this week. I'm sure this blog will just heat up with all sorts of scandal. The lame ass kind of teacher's room scandal that makes for thrilling literature....
I'm hoping I'll be so thoroughly occupied that my mind will stop designing dream kitchens and in-law apartments. That I'll be able to think intellectually again instead of just in an obsessive-compulsive way about ho I'd spend and invest the millions won in the lottery.
Maybe I'll be able to tolerate reading a book again.
And hopefully I'll learn to be as happy as I ahould be with all the wonderful blessings I already have. Why isn't there a tv channel for that? Well, becasue that would be wretchedly boring I'm sure and make other folks as blindingly jealous as I have been for kitchen renovations and offspring.
I just don't feel like myself and I'm terrified of starting next week and I feel like an empty vessel.
I just spent a visit down the cape where I felt on edge and uncomfortable the entire duration. Like I was holding my breath. I had nothing interesting to contribute, nothing witty or even amusing. I was a dull guest. Luckily there seemed to be hundreds of babies and toddlers and children around to distract from my abysmal lack of conversation skills, and plenty of better homes & gardens magazines for me to escape into.
Until I win the millions I vow not to buy any more DIY type magazines. Fuck Kitchen Cabinetry. I have one. One kitchen cabinet. And that's the reality. And I love my little studio fo all its complications and stresses and tiny-ness. I'm going to put away the home design mags, the decoration idea books and all that other SHIT that is making me long for impossible things. Starting today I refuse to tune in to those silly channels.
And I think I might return the orange vinyl purse and glass doorknob I pilfered from my adventures in the house on Arlington street. REALLY say goodbye.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
I am deeply saddened to note the death of my favorite senator, the lion of the senate, Senator Ted Kennedy. Words fail me at present. Hes has been a part of my life since birth, a fixture in this state and his passing robs us of some sense of surety and security.
He will be missed.
I wish he could have lived to see his life's work come to fruition.
He will be missed.
I wish he could have lived to see his life's work come to fruition.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Aaron and I had a much-needed vacation day yesterday. The house is still a mess from the whirlwind of making Sushi Cupcakes-- it is sooooooo easy to mess up a studio apartment in a very short amount of time with almost no effort! Not so easy to restore it to neutral!
We decided though, instead of spending the day cooped up and cleaning, that we would have a day to ourselves with an excursion. I love him and I love our life. It reminds me of that Sunny & Cher song so often: They say our love won't pay the rent\ before it's earned our money's all been spent...
So yes. We may not have a pot but I got him... babe.
We went to.......................... THE ZOO!
At first I thought it would be awkward to go to the zoo without having children, but when we arrived at Southwick on "Multiples get in half-price" day, on the second-to-last sunday before school starts back up, we were actually quite relieved and grateful not to have any children in tow! Those little tag-a-longs would've just slowed us down!
We had a great time. Neither of us had been to this particular zoo and it was quite a decent little zoo and pretty affordable too. I think my favorite part was toward the end of our adventure when we finally took advantage of the "combo bracelets" we'd purchased upon admission and we rode the "skyfari"; a sort of ski-lift cruise above the park. We had such a fun, relaxing time we asked to ride it again immediately! It was about the only time during the day that we got to be alone and more than 10 feet away from clusters of loud, sweaty, grumpy, whiney, other people!
After the Zoo we went to TGIFridays because Aaron had never ever been to one and decided that was UnAmerican. Turns out Aaron is pretty UnAmerican because TGIFridays did not have a single, not one single entree that did not contain meat of some variety. He ended up ordering the 5 cheese macaroni and cheese which is designed to come with bacon and a grilled chicken breast on top- but he ordered it sans meat. It came with the warning that the plate was super hot (which it was), but guess what? The macaroni was chilly! I mean just-got-it-out-of-the-fridge-cold. Yuck. They took it back, microwaved it a while longer and gave it back at an acceptable temp. pretty unimpressive.
My Mojitos were great though!
We'd planned on catching a film after Friday's but decided to go home where we could stretch out and be naked LOL, and we downloaded a few horror film from blockbuster online instead.
Layaing in bed later I revisited a topic that had been on my mind that morning before the zoo. I'd spent a good half-hour looking up online dream decphering websites to try and figure out the symbolism behind a very vivid dream I'd had the night before. It isn't often I remember any details of my dreams and this one seemed to mean SOMETHING so I started delving into it. Two parts stood out (though I knew the dream was longer and more intricate the only residue that was still remaining were just two measly parts, like the small stain after you wipe up a big spill...).
First: Aaron and I were touring an old, very typical new-england basement. The only thing a-typical about the basement was that it was completely empty of stuff. just the bare-bones basement. It had low ceilings, exposed pipes, a hard-packed dirt floor and stone walls that had been whitewashed at some point but were now peeling paint. I remember Aaron and I were having a tiff about something and I was vaguely annoyed and bitchy.
The other thing was very realistic in that I was in my own apartment, waking up and climbing out of my loft bed as I do on any typical morning and heading to the bathroom to pee. When I got there there were two or three large rat dropping on the toilet lid and one or two in the sink. The rat was nowhere in sight but the evidence was undeniable: we had a rat problem.
What did this all mean? Well I got a lot of stuff about basements meaning intuition and rats being symbols for blahblahblah, ut nothing seemed to fit. I puzzled over what intuition really means anyway and tried to figure out if my feminine intuition was trying to tell me something.
Aaron finally said: How did you feel about it? In the dream? How did it make you feel?
I was so wrapped up in the visual imagery, the symbolism of the actual things, that I hadn't given this aspect a single thought. None of the dream interpretation sites on the web had mentioned this perspective either.
Laying there in bed with my husband I tried to recall how I felt in the moment of the dream.
"Well, the rat poop made me feel annoyed, I guess..."
"Just annoyed?"
"Well... I sort of felt like I felt when we heard that second mouse scraping at the wall in the bathroom after we'd already found Wally and two dead ones... like:Here we go again! what else could go wrong... kind of like I was half expecting it somehow..."
He was quiet for just a fraction of a minute, making sure I was done before he said: "I think that has a lot to do with all the unpleasant surprises life's been throwing you lately, and your anxiety about what else might be coming around the corner that you'll have to deal with: like the alternator, my van's check engine light, hidden costs that keep cropping up everywhere..."
As he spoke to me I got irrationally tense and anxious. I'd never thought of that stuff as being related to the rat poop but it made sense. It wasn't a nightmare in that we were swarmed with rats or that a big scary rat with red eyes and fangs was after me, but it was much more like life: here's the evidence of something not good and now we have to expend time. money and effort to root out the problem and restore our home to neutral.
Then he asked me about the basement.
"I was annoyed at you" I said.
"But what else- how did you feel about the peeling paint?"
Now up to this point I'd been trying to think of the symbolism behind the peeling paint in the basement and not examining how I FELT about it...
"Um, like it was messy but expected."
"How did the mess make you feel?"
"Tired." this answer surprised me even as I said it.
"What do you mean?"
"Sort of resigned to it."
"Resigned?"
"Yeah like: this is a mess and I'm going to have to clean it up. I didn't make the mess obviously, and it made me tired to look at it, but it was inevitable, It needs to get done and I am going to have to do it."
There was just a breath of a quiet moment before he said: "I think that one has to do with how you feel about your parents."
Before a breath could even go by I said "Ohhhhh Nooooo" and began to sob uncontrollably.
It was really wild. I want to get this all down because as an actor I'm in the business of emotion and tapping into all this stuff and I'd spent a day trying to puzzle out some imaged and symbols and with one word Aaron managed to tap into this well of emotion I didn't even know I was carrying inside me.
I consider myself very in touch with my emotions- they are always ready and available for me to tap. Its a great help as an actor!
But this? It was WILD! It was like he hit a button. Simple as that. Flipped a switch. The :Sob Uncontrollably for five-ten minutes button.
Of course he cuddled me and calmed me down and I kept apologizing and saying: "I don't know where this came from.." and he murmured all kinds of wisdom and I felt such relief.
I tell you. He should go into business. He laughed at this suggestion and chalked it up to another non-existant career that he'd be great at!
But I think it was amazing.
Eerie, but amazing.
Now That's intuition!
We decided though, instead of spending the day cooped up and cleaning, that we would have a day to ourselves with an excursion. I love him and I love our life. It reminds me of that Sunny & Cher song so often: They say our love won't pay the rent\ before it's earned our money's all been spent...
So yes. We may not have a pot but I got him... babe.
We went to.......................... THE ZOO!
At first I thought it would be awkward to go to the zoo without having children, but when we arrived at Southwick on "Multiples get in half-price" day, on the second-to-last sunday before school starts back up, we were actually quite relieved and grateful not to have any children in tow! Those little tag-a-longs would've just slowed us down!
We had a great time. Neither of us had been to this particular zoo and it was quite a decent little zoo and pretty affordable too. I think my favorite part was toward the end of our adventure when we finally took advantage of the "combo bracelets" we'd purchased upon admission and we rode the "skyfari"; a sort of ski-lift cruise above the park. We had such a fun, relaxing time we asked to ride it again immediately! It was about the only time during the day that we got to be alone and more than 10 feet away from clusters of loud, sweaty, grumpy, whiney, other people!
After the Zoo we went to TGIFridays because Aaron had never ever been to one and decided that was UnAmerican. Turns out Aaron is pretty UnAmerican because TGIFridays did not have a single, not one single entree that did not contain meat of some variety. He ended up ordering the 5 cheese macaroni and cheese which is designed to come with bacon and a grilled chicken breast on top- but he ordered it sans meat. It came with the warning that the plate was super hot (which it was), but guess what? The macaroni was chilly! I mean just-got-it-out-of-the-fridge-cold. Yuck. They took it back, microwaved it a while longer and gave it back at an acceptable temp. pretty unimpressive.
My Mojitos were great though!
We'd planned on catching a film after Friday's but decided to go home where we could stretch out and be naked LOL, and we downloaded a few horror film from blockbuster online instead.
Layaing in bed later I revisited a topic that had been on my mind that morning before the zoo. I'd spent a good half-hour looking up online dream decphering websites to try and figure out the symbolism behind a very vivid dream I'd had the night before. It isn't often I remember any details of my dreams and this one seemed to mean SOMETHING so I started delving into it. Two parts stood out (though I knew the dream was longer and more intricate the only residue that was still remaining were just two measly parts, like the small stain after you wipe up a big spill...).
First: Aaron and I were touring an old, very typical new-england basement. The only thing a-typical about the basement was that it was completely empty of stuff. just the bare-bones basement. It had low ceilings, exposed pipes, a hard-packed dirt floor and stone walls that had been whitewashed at some point but were now peeling paint. I remember Aaron and I were having a tiff about something and I was vaguely annoyed and bitchy.
The other thing was very realistic in that I was in my own apartment, waking up and climbing out of my loft bed as I do on any typical morning and heading to the bathroom to pee. When I got there there were two or three large rat dropping on the toilet lid and one or two in the sink. The rat was nowhere in sight but the evidence was undeniable: we had a rat problem.
What did this all mean? Well I got a lot of stuff about basements meaning intuition and rats being symbols for blahblahblah, ut nothing seemed to fit. I puzzled over what intuition really means anyway and tried to figure out if my feminine intuition was trying to tell me something.
Aaron finally said: How did you feel about it? In the dream? How did it make you feel?
I was so wrapped up in the visual imagery, the symbolism of the actual things, that I hadn't given this aspect a single thought. None of the dream interpretation sites on the web had mentioned this perspective either.
Laying there in bed with my husband I tried to recall how I felt in the moment of the dream.
"Well, the rat poop made me feel annoyed, I guess..."
"Just annoyed?"
"Well... I sort of felt like I felt when we heard that second mouse scraping at the wall in the bathroom after we'd already found Wally and two dead ones... like:Here we go again! what else could go wrong... kind of like I was half expecting it somehow..."
He was quiet for just a fraction of a minute, making sure I was done before he said: "I think that has a lot to do with all the unpleasant surprises life's been throwing you lately, and your anxiety about what else might be coming around the corner that you'll have to deal with: like the alternator, my van's check engine light, hidden costs that keep cropping up everywhere..."
As he spoke to me I got irrationally tense and anxious. I'd never thought of that stuff as being related to the rat poop but it made sense. It wasn't a nightmare in that we were swarmed with rats or that a big scary rat with red eyes and fangs was after me, but it was much more like life: here's the evidence of something not good and now we have to expend time. money and effort to root out the problem and restore our home to neutral.
Then he asked me about the basement.
"I was annoyed at you" I said.
"But what else- how did you feel about the peeling paint?"
Now up to this point I'd been trying to think of the symbolism behind the peeling paint in the basement and not examining how I FELT about it...
"Um, like it was messy but expected."
"How did the mess make you feel?"
"Tired." this answer surprised me even as I said it.
"What do you mean?"
"Sort of resigned to it."
"Resigned?"
"Yeah like: this is a mess and I'm going to have to clean it up. I didn't make the mess obviously, and it made me tired to look at it, but it was inevitable, It needs to get done and I am going to have to do it."
There was just a breath of a quiet moment before he said: "I think that one has to do with how you feel about your parents."
Before a breath could even go by I said "Ohhhhh Nooooo" and began to sob uncontrollably.
It was really wild. I want to get this all down because as an actor I'm in the business of emotion and tapping into all this stuff and I'd spent a day trying to puzzle out some imaged and symbols and with one word Aaron managed to tap into this well of emotion I didn't even know I was carrying inside me.
I consider myself very in touch with my emotions- they are always ready and available for me to tap. Its a great help as an actor!
But this? It was WILD! It was like he hit a button. Simple as that. Flipped a switch. The :Sob Uncontrollably for five-ten minutes button.
Of course he cuddled me and calmed me down and I kept apologizing and saying: "I don't know where this came from.." and he murmured all kinds of wisdom and I felt such relief.
I tell you. He should go into business. He laughed at this suggestion and chalked it up to another non-existant career that he'd be great at!
But I think it was amazing.
Eerie, but amazing.
Now That's intuition!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sushi & Salvage
I had a blasty blast last night- first at my siter's where we had a small family gathering to celebrate the august birthdays, and then at Danielle & Adams where we celebrated Danielle's B-day and played games!
Aaron made danielle a cake with Adam's request\guidance being only: something crazy would be best.
Since Aaron had just received the amazing book "Hello Cupcake!" for his birthday from Pippi he kind of wanted to do something with cupcakes. The solution? Sushi Cupcakes in a Sushi Boat! We took plent of pics, so I'll try to post sometime.
Anywayyyy.
I have a new passion. Sure Drama teaching will be awesome, but guess what else I want to do now? After watching 4+ hours of the DIY network at my sister's (I don't get those fun cable channels) and stumbling upon a show called: Operation Salvage, I now have a great yen to open and operate a salvage and restoration company!!!
I think this probably stems from my natural pack-rat insticts and also my long years in the theatre where junk is always held on to, squirreled away and re-invisioned for new projects. I always enjoyed being props mistress and if I ran a salvage yard I would be props queen! Maybe I'll also run a little antiques shop in conjuction with the architectural salvage yard.
The demolitions will be the most fun! Like a treasure hunt and a theatrical set strike all at the same time! I'll get to go into old abandoned buildings and homes and grab all the awesome stuff that would otherwise be destroyed and sent to the dump, then I'll turn around and sell that stuff for hundreds and thousands!
Sounds so fun.
I think Aaron will murder me if I don't teach for at least a little while though :)
So: September 2nd= back to school!
More on that later.
Aaron made danielle a cake with Adam's request\guidance being only: something crazy would be best.
Since Aaron had just received the amazing book "Hello Cupcake!" for his birthday from Pippi he kind of wanted to do something with cupcakes. The solution? Sushi Cupcakes in a Sushi Boat! We took plent of pics, so I'll try to post sometime.
Anywayyyy.
I have a new passion. Sure Drama teaching will be awesome, but guess what else I want to do now? After watching 4+ hours of the DIY network at my sister's (I don't get those fun cable channels) and stumbling upon a show called: Operation Salvage, I now have a great yen to open and operate a salvage and restoration company!!!
I think this probably stems from my natural pack-rat insticts and also my long years in the theatre where junk is always held on to, squirreled away and re-invisioned for new projects. I always enjoyed being props mistress and if I ran a salvage yard I would be props queen! Maybe I'll also run a little antiques shop in conjuction with the architectural salvage yard.
The demolitions will be the most fun! Like a treasure hunt and a theatrical set strike all at the same time! I'll get to go into old abandoned buildings and homes and grab all the awesome stuff that would otherwise be destroyed and sent to the dump, then I'll turn around and sell that stuff for hundreds and thousands!
Sounds so fun.
I think Aaron will murder me if I don't teach for at least a little while though :)
So: September 2nd= back to school!
More on that later.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Baby Names
Funny- I feel like I always have lots to say until I open up this page...
I've always been a bit intimidated by a blank page.
I used to doodle on my blank notebook pages if I had nothing to write- but not pictures, as I was always a pretty wretched artist, but names. I used to practice writing my future children's names over and over.
Since high school we've changed a few of the potential names and some remain. We've thrown out Jack- which was very avant garde and unusual 12 years ago but is crazy popular today, especially with the Jackson\Jaxon variant. We've also tossed Caleb, which still makes me very sad, but the old fashioned name has just skyrocketed in popularity recently. When I'm in Toys-r-Us and hear "Hey Jax come here" or "Caleb put that down!" it makes my uterus clench, but hey, I've surrendered them to the universe.
I clung to the 4-6 names for so long because they represented our first major decision together, our first major plans for our future together. Another one that was sentimental to us was Oliver, but we had to nix that one after a friend of ours named her little boy Oliver last year.
Wayyyy back when we were dating, early on before sex, we used to watch movies to pass the time... this was our "date". We'd watch the entirety of the film with an expectant tingle, waiting for the credits to roll and the mood to shift... for the hot and steamy making out session and the heavy petting.
Anyway, One time we were watching an old film from our childhood: Oliver and Company! A great little cartoon musical based on Oliver Twist but Way more fun! At one point during the film we were having such a good time and reminiscing about our separate childhood years and getting to know one another that I turned to him and exclaimed something along the lines of: "Our kids are definately going to watch this movie!!"
There was a stillness then. A quiet as my words fell between us, and a rather stunned look from my 15 year old boyfriend. I pancked! I was sure I'd freaked him out and would scare him away. You know ho boys are- they hate being tied down and thinking about getting married and having babies, so I scrambled to recover the fumble!
I started rapidly over-explaining: "You know YOUR kids and MY kids can get together maybe and watch it..."
Ugh.
An expression crossed his face that I wasn't able to identify at the time and assumed it was relief or maybe skepticism and veiled panic at the thought of marrying me and being stuck forever with my kid, but her recovered nicely and laughed and agreed and we went about our business of chatting and then making out. fervently.
We talked about it some time later. Was it months? or years? I don't know. But I never forgot that moment, that day. I was so happy and then so afraid I'd screwed everything up by that freudian slip O'the tongue.
Turns out HE remembered it too, very well. That shocked expression? He was soaringly happy to hear me say "our kids". And the other expression- the unidentifiable one?: He was disappointed that I'd back-tracked and yes, a little skeptical of my lame attempt at a cover up. Id made him joyful to the core to think of OUR kids, or probably freckle-faced, crooked-toothed little ragamuffins sitting on a couch somewhere in the ether of the future and watching Oliver and Company with us.
The revelation of our true feelings is another moment I'll never forget and will cherish, so naturally sometime down the road I announced my intention to include Oliver, for those very reasons, into the name pool. He was the third son that I was sure we'd have and aaron wasn't so certain but aquiesed to as a contingency plan. He's a softy.
But, then, Kerry had a baby with Matt and Olver's right out of contention. It will always be a fond memory but not a child.
Its ok. I recently saw a dinner theatre production of the Musical Oliver and was reminded how much I really can't stand it, and since it would be impractical to name our son Oliveranscompany Reardon, people would most commonly associate him with that wretched, cloying title song from that woefully subpar musical venture and that would likely drive my up a wall for the rest of the poor kid's life!
I miss him though sometimes. I imagine he'd look like Ron Howard as opie- with orange hair, freckles, and maybe the lisp he had in The Music Man movie... I'd teach him to sing 'Gary, Indiana' so he wouldn't feel so bad about his crazy speech impediment and he'd be wholesome and from the late 50's early 60's. Gee Whiz.
So. We've a new crop of boys names-- one of which is especially exciting, but I refuse to put it out there for fear of it getting crazy popular. Another couple that are great but a tiny bit more common.
And the girls names are pretty solid. Over the years we came to add a third solid selection which I'm pretty jazzed about: Both our grandmother's names and then an awesomely cute nickname.
And our favorite? at one time we were set on waiting and giving it to our yougest daughter... but as I get older and we get poorer the decision has become: name the first girl the best name, because we don't know and can't predict which one will be the youngest.
There. Done. Done blogging for the day. It sure will be fun when\if we do have kids, because both our firstborn names for both sexes are pretty unconventional. They will no doubt drive my sister to distraction (hell she hated OLIVER for goodness sake!), and make more than a few peoply raise their eyebrows and engage in "what were they thinking" conversations behind our backs, but hey- names are branching out. Aaron figures that by the time our kids are adults the names won't seem that bizarre, that lots more parents are taking chances.
And guess what? I think Apple is an adorable name. Why the grief? Apple is both yummy, beautiful and wise. We name girls other fruits and we name them after hundreds of flowers and we name them after MONTHS and days for goodness sake, so what's the trouble with Apple? Its frsh and vibrant and still somehow classic and mythic.
stop hating. LOL!
I've always been a bit intimidated by a blank page.
I used to doodle on my blank notebook pages if I had nothing to write- but not pictures, as I was always a pretty wretched artist, but names. I used to practice writing my future children's names over and over.
Since high school we've changed a few of the potential names and some remain. We've thrown out Jack- which was very avant garde and unusual 12 years ago but is crazy popular today, especially with the Jackson\Jaxon variant. We've also tossed Caleb, which still makes me very sad, but the old fashioned name has just skyrocketed in popularity recently. When I'm in Toys-r-Us and hear "Hey Jax come here" or "Caleb put that down!" it makes my uterus clench, but hey, I've surrendered them to the universe.
I clung to the 4-6 names for so long because they represented our first major decision together, our first major plans for our future together. Another one that was sentimental to us was Oliver, but we had to nix that one after a friend of ours named her little boy Oliver last year.
Wayyyy back when we were dating, early on before sex, we used to watch movies to pass the time... this was our "date". We'd watch the entirety of the film with an expectant tingle, waiting for the credits to roll and the mood to shift... for the hot and steamy making out session and the heavy petting.
Anyway, One time we were watching an old film from our childhood: Oliver and Company! A great little cartoon musical based on Oliver Twist but Way more fun! At one point during the film we were having such a good time and reminiscing about our separate childhood years and getting to know one another that I turned to him and exclaimed something along the lines of: "Our kids are definately going to watch this movie!!"
There was a stillness then. A quiet as my words fell between us, and a rather stunned look from my 15 year old boyfriend. I pancked! I was sure I'd freaked him out and would scare him away. You know ho boys are- they hate being tied down and thinking about getting married and having babies, so I scrambled to recover the fumble!
I started rapidly over-explaining: "You know YOUR kids and MY kids can get together maybe and watch it..."
Ugh.
An expression crossed his face that I wasn't able to identify at the time and assumed it was relief or maybe skepticism and veiled panic at the thought of marrying me and being stuck forever with my kid, but her recovered nicely and laughed and agreed and we went about our business of chatting and then making out. fervently.
We talked about it some time later. Was it months? or years? I don't know. But I never forgot that moment, that day. I was so happy and then so afraid I'd screwed everything up by that freudian slip O'the tongue.
Turns out HE remembered it too, very well. That shocked expression? He was soaringly happy to hear me say "our kids". And the other expression- the unidentifiable one?: He was disappointed that I'd back-tracked and yes, a little skeptical of my lame attempt at a cover up. Id made him joyful to the core to think of OUR kids, or probably freckle-faced, crooked-toothed little ragamuffins sitting on a couch somewhere in the ether of the future and watching Oliver and Company with us.
The revelation of our true feelings is another moment I'll never forget and will cherish, so naturally sometime down the road I announced my intention to include Oliver, for those very reasons, into the name pool. He was the third son that I was sure we'd have and aaron wasn't so certain but aquiesed to as a contingency plan. He's a softy.
But, then, Kerry had a baby with Matt and Olver's right out of contention. It will always be a fond memory but not a child.
Its ok. I recently saw a dinner theatre production of the Musical Oliver and was reminded how much I really can't stand it, and since it would be impractical to name our son Oliveranscompany Reardon, people would most commonly associate him with that wretched, cloying title song from that woefully subpar musical venture and that would likely drive my up a wall for the rest of the poor kid's life!
I miss him though sometimes. I imagine he'd look like Ron Howard as opie- with orange hair, freckles, and maybe the lisp he had in The Music Man movie... I'd teach him to sing 'Gary, Indiana' so he wouldn't feel so bad about his crazy speech impediment and he'd be wholesome and from the late 50's early 60's. Gee Whiz.
So. We've a new crop of boys names-- one of which is especially exciting, but I refuse to put it out there for fear of it getting crazy popular. Another couple that are great but a tiny bit more common.
And the girls names are pretty solid. Over the years we came to add a third solid selection which I'm pretty jazzed about: Both our grandmother's names and then an awesomely cute nickname.
And our favorite? at one time we were set on waiting and giving it to our yougest daughter... but as I get older and we get poorer the decision has become: name the first girl the best name, because we don't know and can't predict which one will be the youngest.
There. Done. Done blogging for the day. It sure will be fun when\if we do have kids, because both our firstborn names for both sexes are pretty unconventional. They will no doubt drive my sister to distraction (hell she hated OLIVER for goodness sake!), and make more than a few peoply raise their eyebrows and engage in "what were they thinking" conversations behind our backs, but hey- names are branching out. Aaron figures that by the time our kids are adults the names won't seem that bizarre, that lots more parents are taking chances.
And guess what? I think Apple is an adorable name. Why the grief? Apple is both yummy, beautiful and wise. We name girls other fruits and we name them after hundreds of flowers and we name them after MONTHS and days for goodness sake, so what's the trouble with Apple? Its frsh and vibrant and still somehow classic and mythic.
stop hating. LOL!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Mum is back in the hospital. Now she's having a reaction to all the various medications they put her on.
I need to clean the house and call Bob and get some lesson plans rolling.
I'm also trying to figure out whether or not I will RSVP to this Theatre Education barbeque scheduled for the end of the month. It is a reunion of our Teaching Shakespeare class and will be great for networking but.... ugh. I have such social anxiety about situations like this. Erg.
I dunno.
My soaps are on... lol... and then I've got to clean the house so Aaron can come home and be creative. Later I'll go check on Dad, make sure he eats dinner... He's kind of lost when Mum is in the hospital.
I need to clean the house and call Bob and get some lesson plans rolling.
I'm also trying to figure out whether or not I will RSVP to this Theatre Education barbeque scheduled for the end of the month. It is a reunion of our Teaching Shakespeare class and will be great for networking but.... ugh. I have such social anxiety about situations like this. Erg.
I dunno.
My soaps are on... lol... and then I've got to clean the house so Aaron can come home and be creative. Later I'll go check on Dad, make sure he eats dinner... He's kind of lost when Mum is in the hospital.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Wake Up
I've never been like this... so certain that I had a real, honest-to-goodness shot at winning the lottery. And then so miserably devastated when I fail to do so.
It is sick. Sick in the head. delusional.
But SOMEONE WILL WIN, right? Why not me? Why is it always happening to someone else?
I don't know. I swore up and down that I'd be done if I didn't win last night I'd stop playing. Get over the fairytale dream and start working myself into the grave like every other average irish catholic lower-middle-class proletarian on the south shore of Massachusetts.
Then I won the bonus ball........ again.
Which means I have 2 more $s to try again.
And now the Jackpot is 207 million.
I don't know. I woke up so bitterly disappointed and grumpy and let down. I took my parents into boston yesterday for their final hearing on my dad's workman's comp claim. He ended up settling for what he calls "peanuts", and it will be a struggle for them to make it even a year on the settlement. A year. That's all the time I have to get enough money together to but a house with an inlaw apartment. Or what? They starve? They lose their house? I really don't know. I just kept praying for a Miracle from sun up until 11:30 when my tickets just didn't match those damn numbers.
And I have to spend all fall student teaching, which equals zero income. I know what you might be thinking: get an night & weekend job. Nice thought. And were I a normal student teacher I probably would do so. However I am a DRAMA teacher. So after an entire unpaid day of drama teaching I get to go to nights of unpaid rehearsal too! To be honest, I wouldn't want to miss the rehearsals even if I could- because that's where SO much happens- that's where the real creativity and life is... the thing that helps you muddle through days where most kids picked the class for an easy elective and could give a shit about theatre and what you have to say.
Plus, the more directorial credits on the resume the better chance I have for landing a drama job of my own.
Look. most people struggle to make ends meet. they work hard at jobs they hate in order to earn money. Looking for a miracle or an easy way out or the path of least resistance is pretty futile. I'll think about cashing in my megaball dollars for two more chances, but that's it. not a penny more. no more buying seven dollars worth because seven is lucky; no more buying just a few at any convenience store I happen to stop at because you never know ehrer the luck lives; no more pinning my future on something that is about as likely as prince charming marrying me and making me a princess (do you think Prince charming would marry both myself AND Aaron?- Aaron is a sexy fellow and could sure please a prince...).
Everytime I think I'm all grown up I find myself all wrapped up in day dreams and fantasy.
Like my blog friend wrote in his blog recently- here's an amazing piece of advice that's been echoing in my mind for days now: "If you want to make your dreams come true: Wake Up!"
It is sick. Sick in the head. delusional.
But SOMEONE WILL WIN, right? Why not me? Why is it always happening to someone else?
I don't know. I swore up and down that I'd be done if I didn't win last night I'd stop playing. Get over the fairytale dream and start working myself into the grave like every other average irish catholic lower-middle-class proletarian on the south shore of Massachusetts.
Then I won the bonus ball........ again.
Which means I have 2 more $s to try again.
And now the Jackpot is 207 million.
I don't know. I woke up so bitterly disappointed and grumpy and let down. I took my parents into boston yesterday for their final hearing on my dad's workman's comp claim. He ended up settling for what he calls "peanuts", and it will be a struggle for them to make it even a year on the settlement. A year. That's all the time I have to get enough money together to but a house with an inlaw apartment. Or what? They starve? They lose their house? I really don't know. I just kept praying for a Miracle from sun up until 11:30 when my tickets just didn't match those damn numbers.
And I have to spend all fall student teaching, which equals zero income. I know what you might be thinking: get an night & weekend job. Nice thought. And were I a normal student teacher I probably would do so. However I am a DRAMA teacher. So after an entire unpaid day of drama teaching I get to go to nights of unpaid rehearsal too! To be honest, I wouldn't want to miss the rehearsals even if I could- because that's where SO much happens- that's where the real creativity and life is... the thing that helps you muddle through days where most kids picked the class for an easy elective and could give a shit about theatre and what you have to say.
Plus, the more directorial credits on the resume the better chance I have for landing a drama job of my own.
Look. most people struggle to make ends meet. they work hard at jobs they hate in order to earn money. Looking for a miracle or an easy way out or the path of least resistance is pretty futile. I'll think about cashing in my megaball dollars for two more chances, but that's it. not a penny more. no more buying seven dollars worth because seven is lucky; no more buying just a few at any convenience store I happen to stop at because you never know ehrer the luck lives; no more pinning my future on something that is about as likely as prince charming marrying me and making me a princess (do you think Prince charming would marry both myself AND Aaron?- Aaron is a sexy fellow and could sure please a prince...).
Everytime I think I'm all grown up I find myself all wrapped up in day dreams and fantasy.
Like my blog friend wrote in his blog recently- here's an amazing piece of advice that's been echoing in my mind for days now: "If you want to make your dreams come true: Wake Up!"
Monday, August 17, 2009
This Weekend
This Weekend was Aaron's 27th birthday. I focused all my energy on making sure it was an enjoyable one for him. He's pretty (irrationably) freaked out by 27... actually he's been freaked out by pretty much every birthday since 22.
In the morning on the 15th he had to go to the doctor's to get bloodwork- this was a whole process that involved him abstaining from any food or drink (besides water) for a solid 24 hours- so a full day of taffy deliveries on an empty tank friday- I was so worried about him. It didn't help matters that I had a terrible dream that I won the lottery but Aaron died in a terrible car crash on the same day.
I told Aaron I'd take him out anywhere he wanted to eat and the man chose Old Country Buffet! I was thinking something very specdial and gourmet- but as he was starving he was thinking: FOOOOOOOOOOD! NOW! LOTS!!
It was a suprisingly yummy. Not GOOD, but tasty. and affordable! I tried not to think about the reports of kitchen un-cleanliness and roaches and just ate my country biscuit and hollandaise sauce with good humor.
Then I took him to old navy for some new jeans since he had split his last good pair playing with DJ & Amanda's kids. He complained about his waist size, but I think he looks awesome in the stuff we bought.
Later we went to Gramma's for Aaron's fave- baked mac-n-cheese and blueberry cake.
I took him to White's bakery too- he got a slice of Keylime pie and an eyful of what a successful, well established bakery looks like. I like to plant these things in his imagination as he prepares to embark on the next phase of his life :)
After Grandma's we went over Adam and Danielle's which was AMAZING for the soul. It always twinges a little to go over because they have a condo that they own, and Aaron & I are nowhere near financially ready to take that step, but it is always so fun to go over too, because they are always chill, welcoming and fun. They had installed a new tiled backsplash which was AWESOME and which was right up my alley since I am hopelessly addicted to HGTV lately and to kitchen makeover magazines [all because the damn house on Arlington street needs a kitchen remodel... a house which I cannot have... YUP!].
Anyway, what a great way to spend the night! We played a fun new game called Partini- a very fun party game akin to cranium but even easier and more interactive, we had yummy cupcakes, and we ended up hanging out till 2 AM!
Fun Fun.
Jopardy is on- I gotta run.
Long story short: I love my hubby, LOVE LOVE LOVE my friends and am so lucky to have them!
In the morning on the 15th he had to go to the doctor's to get bloodwork- this was a whole process that involved him abstaining from any food or drink (besides water) for a solid 24 hours- so a full day of taffy deliveries on an empty tank friday- I was so worried about him. It didn't help matters that I had a terrible dream that I won the lottery but Aaron died in a terrible car crash on the same day.
I told Aaron I'd take him out anywhere he wanted to eat and the man chose Old Country Buffet! I was thinking something very specdial and gourmet- but as he was starving he was thinking: FOOOOOOOOOOD! NOW! LOTS!!
It was a suprisingly yummy. Not GOOD, but tasty. and affordable! I tried not to think about the reports of kitchen un-cleanliness and roaches and just ate my country biscuit and hollandaise sauce with good humor.
Then I took him to old navy for some new jeans since he had split his last good pair playing with DJ & Amanda's kids. He complained about his waist size, but I think he looks awesome in the stuff we bought.
Later we went to Gramma's for Aaron's fave- baked mac-n-cheese and blueberry cake.
I took him to White's bakery too- he got a slice of Keylime pie and an eyful of what a successful, well established bakery looks like. I like to plant these things in his imagination as he prepares to embark on the next phase of his life :)
After Grandma's we went over Adam and Danielle's which was AMAZING for the soul. It always twinges a little to go over because they have a condo that they own, and Aaron & I are nowhere near financially ready to take that step, but it is always so fun to go over too, because they are always chill, welcoming and fun. They had installed a new tiled backsplash which was AWESOME and which was right up my alley since I am hopelessly addicted to HGTV lately and to kitchen makeover magazines [all because the damn house on Arlington street needs a kitchen remodel... a house which I cannot have... YUP!].
Anyway, what a great way to spend the night! We played a fun new game called Partini- a very fun party game akin to cranium but even easier and more interactive, we had yummy cupcakes, and we ended up hanging out till 2 AM!
Fun Fun.
Jopardy is on- I gotta run.
Long story short: I love my hubby, LOVE LOVE LOVE my friends and am so lucky to have them!
Friday, August 14, 2009
Hi!
I just found out today that Danielle reads my blog. Hi Danielle!!!!! I really didn't think ANYONE read it AT ALL! It was just sort of my little secret in a dusty little corner of the internet where nobody looked anymore.
So now I'm a little selfconscious... but I promise to try to be brave and continue writing as though this is a diary hidden in a cupboard somewhere.
Ummmm.
Dear Diary,
Today I am halfheartedly cleaning the house. And watching HGTV like its my job! I wish there were such a job. I would also excel at watching Law & Order SVU like it was my job and much of the programming on Food Network.
On the job front: I just found out there will NOT be an opening in Lexington, where I was hoping to apply. I am not disheartened and since I promised Aaron I would do it, I still vow to complete my Resume today. Maybe I'll also call Bob to chat about the fall at BHS.
I need to come up with a project or I have to take some other class to make my credits. Oy. I promised myself August would be spent lesson planning and writing up a proposal for a project and here it is, halfway through and I got nuthin. EEK!
So now I'm a little selfconscious... but I promise to try to be brave and continue writing as though this is a diary hidden in a cupboard somewhere.
Ummmm.
Dear Diary,
Today I am halfheartedly cleaning the house. And watching HGTV like its my job! I wish there were such a job. I would also excel at watching Law & Order SVU like it was my job and much of the programming on Food Network.
On the job front: I just found out there will NOT be an opening in Lexington, where I was hoping to apply. I am not disheartened and since I promised Aaron I would do it, I still vow to complete my Resume today. Maybe I'll also call Bob to chat about the fall at BHS.
I need to come up with a project or I have to take some other class to make my credits. Oy. I promised myself August would be spent lesson planning and writing up a proposal for a project and here it is, halfway through and I got nuthin. EEK!
UnLucky 13...
I have to laugh. Of course you'll note that my post is coming this morning and not yesterday... and for good reason: yesterday was just awful!
Right after I finished excitedly gabbing to Jeff on the phone abut all the positive signs in my life, the proverbial shit hit that proverbial fan. Who is throwing shit at a fan anyway- and why on earth? Is it some curious toddler? Or maybe a mischievous chimpanzee-- I know they have a penchant for scatological shenanigans... or maybe a mentally insane inmate from some old fashioned asylum left to his own devices.
Anyway, after a long day of gardening* at 18 mesa road in the muggy drizzle and mud and mosquitos, I had driven Mum to Shaws west side to get her prescription filled at Osco Pharmacy- but asked to wait in the car while she ran her errand on account of my filthy, ragamuffin-y state of dishabille. I dropped her off right at the door saying: "I'll be ... somewhere!" and went off insearch of a parking spot with a good view of the door so I might swing over and pick her up, rather than have my infirm mother search me out in a huge parking lot in the rain.
With no good spots available near the door I decided to park wayyyyyyy at the Belmont St. sdge of the parking lot with my front end pointed right at Shaws so that I could see her the minute she came outside. I put my keys in the same position we do at the drive-in movies**: all the way back so that the radio and wipers can be on but I'm not draining the battery.
I cheerfully chatted with jeff about his new job, Aaron's newfound zeal for culinary school and my auspicious discovery of the 7leaves on our prosperity tree and finally I spotted Betty's ensemble emerge into the dim of the afternoon drizzle: Red shirt, pink shorts, red shoes. Typical Betty :)
Quickly saying my goodbyes to Jeff I turned the keys to start the engine. It felt funny. I must've done it wrong... I turned them back to start and tried again. nothing. clickclickclickclick SERVICE ENGINE SOON in bright orange. dingdingding my seatbelt isn't on. Try again. CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK bongbongbong emergencybrakeison.
Then nothing. Nada. Zip. The radio, which had reset in this tumult was not coming on at all. It wouldn't even click and tell me threatening things on the dash. It dinged faintly and then stopped even dinging... Oh shit.
I hopped out of White Thunder (My Buick's Affectionate Nomicker) half-jogged to meet my Mum wayyyyy at the other end of the lot where she stood peering out from her dry vantage in a curious\concerned way.
Keep in mind that I look a mess. I borrowed one of Betty's t-shirts to garden in, a dayglo yellow monstrosity with puffy roses and lillies which sparkled and read something like: 'Love, Sweet Love' in scrolling script (also dusted with sparkles). My jeans, which were crusted with mud at the cuffs and a good way up my calf from gardening, were now soaking up the puddles in the parkinglot like they were made from tericloth instead of denim. My hair, which was filthy at the start of the day, now had mud and probably a leaf or two, and was pulled back into two ponytails using rubber bands*** and still was plagued by persistent wispy strands who insisted on rebelling and making me look as disheveled as possible. And my hands? After a good scrubbing at the house before we left they looked better- which is to say they were so brown and muddy it would have been inadvbisible to eat any fingerfood.
Of course I had never planned on having to get out of the car.
Now my just-out-of-the-hospital-mother has to either trek with me across the puddly-est parking lot in christendom (are we in christendom? I just finished reading a book on the crusades and I like the way it sounds) or stand there dry but lonely at the shaws entrance. with a "this will be a story to tell" she sets out with me.
We hope, somehow, that giving White Thunder a minute or two alone will somehow leave her in a better state- as if she were a spoiled teenager at her semi-formal who'd just had a moment of hysterical rage at seeing another girl wearing HER dress and "needed a minute" in the hallway by the gym to curse and ask "why me" and then psych herself up with "I look better in it than she does anyway" before returning to the cafetorium for dancing and snide remarks.
It turns out NO. That does not work on Buicks. White Thunder didn't need a minute. She needed a miracle. She was DEAD. done. this parrot was no more.
Shit.
Dad couldn't come get us because he can't drive with a busted driving foot. Michelle couldn't come because she was at Canobie lake park. Pippi was at work. Aaron was in New Hampshire making deliveries. We were pretty well screwed.
Parking way at the back of the lot may have been smart for spotting Madre, but it sure seemed dumb for getting stranded! Luckily, however, it left us alot closer to the Midas across the street who I called up and asked if they could give me a battery.
They sent this big clod of a man over to give us a jump- an action I was highly dubious of-- she didn't sound like the battery had died, she sounded DEAD AS A DOORNAIL!!!
But she took the spark and across the street we went for a new battery.
And an ALTERNATOR!!!!?????!!!!!????
I couldn't help feeling fucked-over.
But I forked up the money I didn't have to give for an ALTERNATOR and a BATTERY TOO!
And, wet and miserable, we waited............ and waited........ and waited......
It was Mum's naptime AND she's had to give up coffee AND she's quit smoking cold turkey AND we didn't even have a decent magazine to read. Mum skimming through 'Black Men's Business Magazine' was enough to make my mouth lift in half-a-smile, but anyway...
After an hour or so Mum finally screwed up enough nerve to change the channel on the big old tv in the waiting area, an ancient model of some unknown asian electronics brand on which somebody had carefully written with permanent marker the letters HDTV.
We ended up on Peter Brady's gameshow based on trivial persuit. I love quiz shows so this might have been the highlight of this pretty lousy experience. Excepting that gameshows make me hate stupid people and worry about the atate of the MAerican education system of which I am pecoming a part in the fall!!!
When Pippi got out of work she responded to my urgent text and set out to come take Mum home.
Half hour, 45 minutes later she pulls up and wouldn't you know they finished my car at exactly the same moment? ahhhhhhhhh, life. I gotta hand it to that curious toddler\mischievous monkey\raving lunatic, but that was some sweet timing!
Pip took Mum home and I was free to go home to shower and crash. I thought about but didn't have the physical nor spiritual energy to swing by the house on Arlington street real quick before heading home to 160 south main.
I felt so bad for Mum- what a way to spend an afternoon. I felt so bad for my pitiful bank account- what a way to get raped and robbed! And I felt a little disheartend at the idea that I may have jinxed all my good luck by speaking of it aloud.
Later, after eating all the food I shouldn't, I asked Aaron why he thoght I ran into such bad luck after finding the good luck leaves. He said "It means that there's no such thing as Luck."
I looked at him with a pitying, skeptical face that I imagine a priest gives to those who don't believ in God. I'm way to Irish to ever stop believing in Luck. I reconcile my Un-Lucky day to it being the 13th--- though not a friday.
My mother says- and probably so does yours- "It never rains but it pours". Amen. It surely does.
*****************************NOTES**************************
* Gardenig is only a loose term for what I was doing out there. What I was doing could be more closely akin to hacking through a jungle with a Machete. "Clark Gable in Magambo" Dad said. I was tackling the weeds, which have been allowed to grow all year. They were often taller than me and they were all very wet and sluggy and many had stubborn roots. I filled 8 lawn bagas and only made it as far as the rose garden section. I wonder when I'll stop calling it the rose garden? All but two rosebushes (of the original 16) have long since died and I've planted lots of other types of flowers there... but that's what I call it!
**Aaron and I enjoy going to the Drive-in movies in Mendon MA. We highly reccommend this experience! $20.00 for a carload. brilliant. Anyway, to prevent your car from killing the battery they instruct you to turn it all the way back toward you, past start, and into the position where you can listen to the radio without fear!! So this DID NOT, absolutely DID NOT kill my battery.
***I cut my hair short so that I wouldn't be able to pull it into a ponytail. I realized that bI am so lazy and impatient when it comes to my hair that its default state had become the ponytail. I wanted to be an adult woman with a hairstyle, not an anti-style.
Of course it is august in MASS and I was gardening. I wanted my hair out of my face and off my neck. So I improvised some jedi-looking situation with two rubberbands. What an atrocious way to be in public.
sigh.
Right after I finished excitedly gabbing to Jeff on the phone abut all the positive signs in my life, the proverbial shit hit that proverbial fan. Who is throwing shit at a fan anyway- and why on earth? Is it some curious toddler? Or maybe a mischievous chimpanzee-- I know they have a penchant for scatological shenanigans... or maybe a mentally insane inmate from some old fashioned asylum left to his own devices.
Anyway, after a long day of gardening* at 18 mesa road in the muggy drizzle and mud and mosquitos, I had driven Mum to Shaws west side to get her prescription filled at Osco Pharmacy- but asked to wait in the car while she ran her errand on account of my filthy, ragamuffin-y state of dishabille. I dropped her off right at the door saying: "I'll be ... somewhere!" and went off insearch of a parking spot with a good view of the door so I might swing over and pick her up, rather than have my infirm mother search me out in a huge parking lot in the rain.
With no good spots available near the door I decided to park wayyyyyyy at the Belmont St. sdge of the parking lot with my front end pointed right at Shaws so that I could see her the minute she came outside. I put my keys in the same position we do at the drive-in movies**: all the way back so that the radio and wipers can be on but I'm not draining the battery.
I cheerfully chatted with jeff about his new job, Aaron's newfound zeal for culinary school and my auspicious discovery of the 7leaves on our prosperity tree and finally I spotted Betty's ensemble emerge into the dim of the afternoon drizzle: Red shirt, pink shorts, red shoes. Typical Betty :)
Quickly saying my goodbyes to Jeff I turned the keys to start the engine. It felt funny. I must've done it wrong... I turned them back to start and tried again. nothing. clickclickclickclick SERVICE ENGINE SOON in bright orange. dingdingding my seatbelt isn't on. Try again. CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK bongbongbong emergencybrakeison.
Then nothing. Nada. Zip. The radio, which had reset in this tumult was not coming on at all. It wouldn't even click and tell me threatening things on the dash. It dinged faintly and then stopped even dinging... Oh shit.
I hopped out of White Thunder (My Buick's Affectionate Nomicker) half-jogged to meet my Mum wayyyyy at the other end of the lot where she stood peering out from her dry vantage in a curious\concerned way.
Keep in mind that I look a mess. I borrowed one of Betty's t-shirts to garden in, a dayglo yellow monstrosity with puffy roses and lillies which sparkled and read something like: 'Love, Sweet Love' in scrolling script (also dusted with sparkles). My jeans, which were crusted with mud at the cuffs and a good way up my calf from gardening, were now soaking up the puddles in the parkinglot like they were made from tericloth instead of denim. My hair, which was filthy at the start of the day, now had mud and probably a leaf or two, and was pulled back into two ponytails using rubber bands*** and still was plagued by persistent wispy strands who insisted on rebelling and making me look as disheveled as possible. And my hands? After a good scrubbing at the house before we left they looked better- which is to say they were so brown and muddy it would have been inadvbisible to eat any fingerfood.
Of course I had never planned on having to get out of the car.
Now my just-out-of-the-hospital-mother has to either trek with me across the puddly-est parking lot in christendom (are we in christendom? I just finished reading a book on the crusades and I like the way it sounds) or stand there dry but lonely at the shaws entrance. with a "this will be a story to tell" she sets out with me.
We hope, somehow, that giving White Thunder a minute or two alone will somehow leave her in a better state- as if she were a spoiled teenager at her semi-formal who'd just had a moment of hysterical rage at seeing another girl wearing HER dress and "needed a minute" in the hallway by the gym to curse and ask "why me" and then psych herself up with "I look better in it than she does anyway" before returning to the cafetorium for dancing and snide remarks.
It turns out NO. That does not work on Buicks. White Thunder didn't need a minute. She needed a miracle. She was DEAD. done. this parrot was no more.
Shit.
Dad couldn't come get us because he can't drive with a busted driving foot. Michelle couldn't come because she was at Canobie lake park. Pippi was at work. Aaron was in New Hampshire making deliveries. We were pretty well screwed.
Parking way at the back of the lot may have been smart for spotting Madre, but it sure seemed dumb for getting stranded! Luckily, however, it left us alot closer to the Midas across the street who I called up and asked if they could give me a battery.
They sent this big clod of a man over to give us a jump- an action I was highly dubious of-- she didn't sound like the battery had died, she sounded DEAD AS A DOORNAIL!!!
But she took the spark and across the street we went for a new battery.
And an ALTERNATOR!!!!?????!!!!!????
I couldn't help feeling fucked-over.
But I forked up the money I didn't have to give for an ALTERNATOR and a BATTERY TOO!
And, wet and miserable, we waited............ and waited........ and waited......
It was Mum's naptime AND she's had to give up coffee AND she's quit smoking cold turkey AND we didn't even have a decent magazine to read. Mum skimming through 'Black Men's Business Magazine' was enough to make my mouth lift in half-a-smile, but anyway...
After an hour or so Mum finally screwed up enough nerve to change the channel on the big old tv in the waiting area, an ancient model of some unknown asian electronics brand on which somebody had carefully written with permanent marker the letters HDTV.
We ended up on Peter Brady's gameshow based on trivial persuit. I love quiz shows so this might have been the highlight of this pretty lousy experience. Excepting that gameshows make me hate stupid people and worry about the atate of the MAerican education system of which I am pecoming a part in the fall!!!
When Pippi got out of work she responded to my urgent text and set out to come take Mum home.
Half hour, 45 minutes later she pulls up and wouldn't you know they finished my car at exactly the same moment? ahhhhhhhhh, life. I gotta hand it to that curious toddler\mischievous monkey\raving lunatic, but that was some sweet timing!
Pip took Mum home and I was free to go home to shower and crash. I thought about but didn't have the physical nor spiritual energy to swing by the house on Arlington street real quick before heading home to 160 south main.
I felt so bad for Mum- what a way to spend an afternoon. I felt so bad for my pitiful bank account- what a way to get raped and robbed! And I felt a little disheartend at the idea that I may have jinxed all my good luck by speaking of it aloud.
Later, after eating all the food I shouldn't, I asked Aaron why he thoght I ran into such bad luck after finding the good luck leaves. He said "It means that there's no such thing as Luck."
I looked at him with a pitying, skeptical face that I imagine a priest gives to those who don't believ in God. I'm way to Irish to ever stop believing in Luck. I reconcile my Un-Lucky day to it being the 13th--- though not a friday.
My mother says- and probably so does yours- "It never rains but it pours". Amen. It surely does.
*****************************NOTES**************************
* Gardenig is only a loose term for what I was doing out there. What I was doing could be more closely akin to hacking through a jungle with a Machete. "Clark Gable in Magambo" Dad said. I was tackling the weeds, which have been allowed to grow all year. They were often taller than me and they were all very wet and sluggy and many had stubborn roots. I filled 8 lawn bagas and only made it as far as the rose garden section. I wonder when I'll stop calling it the rose garden? All but two rosebushes (of the original 16) have long since died and I've planted lots of other types of flowers there... but that's what I call it!
**Aaron and I enjoy going to the Drive-in movies in Mendon MA. We highly reccommend this experience! $20.00 for a carload. brilliant. Anyway, to prevent your car from killing the battery they instruct you to turn it all the way back toward you, past start, and into the position where you can listen to the radio without fear!! So this DID NOT, absolutely DID NOT kill my battery.
***I cut my hair short so that I wouldn't be able to pull it into a ponytail. I realized that bI am so lazy and impatient when it comes to my hair that its default state had become the ponytail. I wanted to be an adult woman with a hairstyle, not an anti-style.
Of course it is august in MASS and I was gardening. I wanted my hair out of my face and off my neck. So I improvised some jedi-looking situation with two rubberbands. What an atrocious way to be in public.
sigh.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Lucky 7?
Today we discovered a very special happening! Our Pachira, our Money Bonzai, or Prosperity tree, has grown a 7-lobed leaf! This occurance is said to be very very rare and very very auspicious! Good luck and Prosperity? We certainly hope so :) We have had one pachira since we moved in- a gift from Jeff- though it arrived nearly dead and has never been too robust ever. One day we decided we would take our prosperity into our own hands and together purchased this little tree at IKEA one afternoon. I have managed not to kill it so far. But in the two + years that we've had this particular variety of houseplant each new leaf has been carefully examined with held breath, only to reveal 5 or 6 lobes at best, sometimes as few as three.
Today, while chatting with my sister about Mum and idly examining the new growth I was stunned and delighted to count 7 tiny lobes!
Needless to say I got some lottery tickets :) but am counting myself very fortunate just to have witnessed this wonderful event!!! Now we need to cross our fingers and pray that I manage to keep the little luck tree alive and flourishing.
Maybe soon I'll post pictures!!
Mum got out of the hospital at last today- and though the pachira is supposed to be for luck in money, I can't help but think the little sweetheart had something to do with that good fortune as well!
*Contented Sigh*
I am happy every day with my husband and my family- even when things look the blackest and most grim... I am very, very, lucky and am grateful every day.
Today, while chatting with my sister about Mum and idly examining the new growth I was stunned and delighted to count 7 tiny lobes!
Needless to say I got some lottery tickets :) but am counting myself very fortunate just to have witnessed this wonderful event!!! Now we need to cross our fingers and pray that I manage to keep the little luck tree alive and flourishing.
Maybe soon I'll post pictures!!
Mum got out of the hospital at last today- and though the pachira is supposed to be for luck in money, I can't help but think the little sweetheart had something to do with that good fortune as well!
*Contented Sigh*
I am happy every day with my husband and my family- even when things look the blackest and most grim... I am very, very, lucky and am grateful every day.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The empty passenger seat
Driving around the city recently- I've been driving to and fro alot more lately due to Mum's hospital stay and aaron's car being in the shop- driving around yesterday sometime I was sad to realize that my car was absent an important presence: an imaginary friend. It came as sort of a shock to my system when I recognized how long it must have been since I had last had a conversation with myself in the car. I used to do it all the time. ALL the time. Depending on my interests at the given time my car would be a dilapidated space ship or an enchanted magical transport or a spy mobile. I think my last imaginary friend, one who stuck around in all sorts of quiet times, was probably professor Lupin.
We were married.
Its a long, creative, off-the-beaten-path, tragic and obviously EU\AU kind of story, and not one I'm going to get into right now.
I guess I just bring it up because I think my last imaginary friend may have died when I finished book 7.
Why then? I've had plenty of non-Potter related imaginary companions. Some of these include: The Phantom of The Opera, Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dracula, and more!
Oh, you know what? I just rememberes, here and now, that Obi-Wan reprised his role for a while a couple of months back when I was really into Cartoon Network's Clone Wars cartoon series. Ah yes. I was a lounge singer on some stopover planet during the clone wars. We met one night, I sang an anti-war song from the 60's (umm, Earth's 60's, since I don't know any galaxy far, far away anti-war songs) and we fell in love.
I think my obsession with Obi-Wan (besides the fact that he looks like Ewan McGregor), is the whole forbidden love thing. I had a Thornbirds obsession for a long time and still find young heterosexual priests very alluring.
Hmmm. Well I don't know why my romance with Ben (in my fantasy I was the one who gave him that nickname!) faded... I lost interest. And I've tried talking aloud into the empty space in my vehicle and everything just rings false... lame... tired. I always like to throw myself and my imaginary companion into some scandal, some looming peril- you know, where I have to dart my eyes to the rearview mirror frequently to check for anyone following us, or have to take unexpected detours to avoid detection from the powers that be... but everytime I try that lately I just yawn, look around suburbia and shrug.
I guess I must finally be growing up. Can't say that I'm pleased about it. I miss the secret adventure and intrigue. I miss the witty dialogue and the vague danger always threatening our way of life. I miss my various alter egos almost as much as I miss the characters who would fill my car or sit by me on the subway, or wait for me in an empty room or apartment.
Now all I think about is getting a home. getting a job. having kids.
draw what conclusions you will. I'm not certain I wish to think too hard about it anymore.
We were married.
Its a long, creative, off-the-beaten-path, tragic and obviously EU\AU kind of story, and not one I'm going to get into right now.
I guess I just bring it up because I think my last imaginary friend may have died when I finished book 7.
Why then? I've had plenty of non-Potter related imaginary companions. Some of these include: The Phantom of The Opera, Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dracula, and more!
Oh, you know what? I just rememberes, here and now, that Obi-Wan reprised his role for a while a couple of months back when I was really into Cartoon Network's Clone Wars cartoon series. Ah yes. I was a lounge singer on some stopover planet during the clone wars. We met one night, I sang an anti-war song from the 60's (umm, Earth's 60's, since I don't know any galaxy far, far away anti-war songs) and we fell in love.
I think my obsession with Obi-Wan (besides the fact that he looks like Ewan McGregor), is the whole forbidden love thing. I had a Thornbirds obsession for a long time and still find young heterosexual priests very alluring.
Hmmm. Well I don't know why my romance with Ben (in my fantasy I was the one who gave him that nickname!) faded... I lost interest. And I've tried talking aloud into the empty space in my vehicle and everything just rings false... lame... tired. I always like to throw myself and my imaginary companion into some scandal, some looming peril- you know, where I have to dart my eyes to the rearview mirror frequently to check for anyone following us, or have to take unexpected detours to avoid detection from the powers that be... but everytime I try that lately I just yawn, look around suburbia and shrug.
I guess I must finally be growing up. Can't say that I'm pleased about it. I miss the secret adventure and intrigue. I miss the witty dialogue and the vague danger always threatening our way of life. I miss my various alter egos almost as much as I miss the characters who would fill my car or sit by me on the subway, or wait for me in an empty room or apartment.
Now all I think about is getting a home. getting a job. having kids.
draw what conclusions you will. I'm not certain I wish to think too hard about it anymore.
I'm near tears watching this town hall in PA. I never thought I'd want to move to canada under a Democratic administration, but it seems like the conservatives have even more power now... I am legitimately frightened, disgusted, angered, hurt, and concerned. I wish I could just melt away.
I am honestly going to stop writing right now and look for work in Canada. Or Australia.
And the thing is-- I love America. I'm such a geek for America! But MA in all her blueness cannot shield me from the madness of the rest of the nation.
I am honestly going to stop writing right now and look for work in Canada. Or Australia.
And the thing is-- I love America. I'm such a geek for America! But MA in all her blueness cannot shield me from the madness of the rest of the nation.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Gardening
Did an incredible amount of work in the front garden at 18 Mesa yesterday. When it isn't too hot and humid and life isn't too too busy, the garden is one of my favorite places to be. You wouldn't know it by looking at my overgrown (understatement) back yard project, or at my pathetic half-wilted half-hideous flowerbox here at the apartment, but I love to garden. Admittedly I haven't got a real TALENT for gardening, but a passion? Yes.
I've always loved to learn to distinguish one plant from another, which ones like full sun and which shade, and I always love how satisfied I feel when its starting to look half-decent.
Anyway, all the work yesterday took along time, wore me out and left the poor little front garden a little denuded looking and lopsided. Remember the lack of talent I mentioned? It turns out I have a marvelous talent for planting the wrong plants in all the wrong places! When I was younger I had a poor grasp on inches and feet and so planted short ones in the back and tall ones in the front and so forth. I got a little better at discerning which plants should go where, but sometimes I still doubt what the book says and plant a tall-y in the front or short-ys in the back! Then there's always the delightful situation of transplanting; I have taken several species of plant from their original homes in the back garden and moved them to the front to fill in space... well they always have the tendency of performing in a very very different way out front than they had done in back! So a nice, compact 24" high bee balm is suddenly this sprawling, leggy, 5' high giant dominating the small front space!
So folks, even though my garden isn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination, it is still a source of pride. I want to tackle the back jungle but don't know if I have the time or energy. I wish to heaven I had my own garden at my own home. It would be so nice to be pruning or weeding or snipping and have Aaron come out with an iced tea for me, and a kiss, and a vague "this looks nice".
Mum's still in the hospital. The Florida cousins are leaving tomorrow. I still haven't won the lottery. Nor cleaned the house. In a little bit I'm headed over to make dad a burger (never cooked a burger before!) and then visit Mum.
Despite my body aches and fatigue we had a great visit with the Florida Cousins yesterday. It was a really great day. And today Aaron and I had a date at the Lux Level to see Julie & Julia, which was wonderful (I'm a sucker for Nora Ephron) and which is probably my inspiration for blogging about my little hobby- the garden!
I've always loved to learn to distinguish one plant from another, which ones like full sun and which shade, and I always love how satisfied I feel when its starting to look half-decent.
Anyway, all the work yesterday took along time, wore me out and left the poor little front garden a little denuded looking and lopsided. Remember the lack of talent I mentioned? It turns out I have a marvelous talent for planting the wrong plants in all the wrong places! When I was younger I had a poor grasp on inches and feet and so planted short ones in the back and tall ones in the front and so forth. I got a little better at discerning which plants should go where, but sometimes I still doubt what the book says and plant a tall-y in the front or short-ys in the back! Then there's always the delightful situation of transplanting; I have taken several species of plant from their original homes in the back garden and moved them to the front to fill in space... well they always have the tendency of performing in a very very different way out front than they had done in back! So a nice, compact 24" high bee balm is suddenly this sprawling, leggy, 5' high giant dominating the small front space!
So folks, even though my garden isn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination, it is still a source of pride. I want to tackle the back jungle but don't know if I have the time or energy. I wish to heaven I had my own garden at my own home. It would be so nice to be pruning or weeding or snipping and have Aaron come out with an iced tea for me, and a kiss, and a vague "this looks nice".
Mum's still in the hospital. The Florida cousins are leaving tomorrow. I still haven't won the lottery. Nor cleaned the house. In a little bit I'm headed over to make dad a burger (never cooked a burger before!) and then visit Mum.
Despite my body aches and fatigue we had a great visit with the Florida Cousins yesterday. It was a really great day. And today Aaron and I had a date at the Lux Level to see Julie & Julia, which was wonderful (I'm a sucker for Nora Ephron) and which is probably my inspiration for blogging about my little hobby- the garden!
Friday, August 07, 2009
Yesterday was tough. I was in quite a dark place. I was frightened, depressed, bitter, discouraged, worried, stressed, hopeless, and grumpy!
But as my mother always says: "this too shall pass!"
And much of that black and stormy cloud has, indeed, passed- and I can see the sun again.
I drove by the house today and tried to say a final goodbye. I sat there in the car waiting for an epiphany or some sort of solid moment of closure. It never came. I was just a woman, sitting in her car, looking at a house and waiting. Life just isn't always like the theatre- or maybe it is, but it's alot more like a beckett play sometimes!
Finally I had to get up to the hospital to visit Mum so I drove away. Sans closure, sans epiphany, sans any sense of accomplishment. But I won't drive by again. Not for a long, long time.
I think the house will stay in my heart and my mind, but it will have to serve as less of a direct goal but more of a symbolic goal: when we get our act together and our life in order we can finally reach for our dream home, which may or may not look alot like this one!!
*****
On the Mum front: She's OK. Not great, but (knock on wood) not awful. They can't get the blood pressure under control and they need to test her for EVERYTHING! So she'll be there until at least Monday!
*****
In other, more productive news: I started the official paper work for my teaching license!!
Yay! On the road to over-qualified unemployment :)
But as my mother always says: "this too shall pass!"
And much of that black and stormy cloud has, indeed, passed- and I can see the sun again.
I drove by the house today and tried to say a final goodbye. I sat there in the car waiting for an epiphany or some sort of solid moment of closure. It never came. I was just a woman, sitting in her car, looking at a house and waiting. Life just isn't always like the theatre- or maybe it is, but it's alot more like a beckett play sometimes!
Finally I had to get up to the hospital to visit Mum so I drove away. Sans closure, sans epiphany, sans any sense of accomplishment. But I won't drive by again. Not for a long, long time.
I think the house will stay in my heart and my mind, but it will have to serve as less of a direct goal but more of a symbolic goal: when we get our act together and our life in order we can finally reach for our dream home, which may or may not look alot like this one!!
*****
On the Mum front: She's OK. Not great, but (knock on wood) not awful. They can't get the blood pressure under control and they need to test her for EVERYTHING! So she'll be there until at least Monday!
*****
In other, more productive news: I started the official paper work for my teaching license!!
Yay! On the road to over-qualified unemployment :)
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Mum is in the hospital. Dad is barely better off. Every day seems to take them closer to peril in many ways, including financial, and I'm not in any position to do a damn thing to help.
I got a call back from the real estate agent today who encouraged me to put in a back-up offer on 40 Arlington street.
Aaron says forget it.
The numbers say forget it.
I'm so depressed I wish I could just disappear completely.
I didn't think it would hurt this much. But here I am, after I thought I'd moved on, weeping and crying "why me?" to the universe.
I don't know. I don't know anymore.
If it's meant to happen? I'm wondering if maybe we have to be less passive about our fate and be instead proactive. MAKE things happen.
Aaron is being so lazy and stand-offish about his own destiny that it is driving me crazy. I just want him to feel passionately, to have drive and to CARE and to MOVE. I know he's guarding himself and I know he has good reason, but he has so much talent and potential that my hear is ready to burst watching him sit here, not DOING what he's meant to be doing.
I want to disappear. I want to go back to Northeastern and do it all over. Until I saw this damned house I was content and even proud of all my life choices and achievements. Now I regret so much. and I hate feeling this way. If I'd just done it the way I was "supposed" to do it, we'd be ready to buy that damned house.
Now, because of all my detours we're missing the opportunity by just 'this' much. And my parents are sick and unable to care for themselves and I can't do anything but drive them to the hospital and watch them decline.
christ. I just want to disappear.
I got a call back from the real estate agent today who encouraged me to put in a back-up offer on 40 Arlington street.
Aaron says forget it.
The numbers say forget it.
I'm so depressed I wish I could just disappear completely.
I didn't think it would hurt this much. But here I am, after I thought I'd moved on, weeping and crying "why me?" to the universe.
I don't know. I don't know anymore.
If it's meant to happen? I'm wondering if maybe we have to be less passive about our fate and be instead proactive. MAKE things happen.
Aaron is being so lazy and stand-offish about his own destiny that it is driving me crazy. I just want him to feel passionately, to have drive and to CARE and to MOVE. I know he's guarding himself and I know he has good reason, but he has so much talent and potential that my hear is ready to burst watching him sit here, not DOING what he's meant to be doing.
I want to disappear. I want to go back to Northeastern and do it all over. Until I saw this damned house I was content and even proud of all my life choices and achievements. Now I regret so much. and I hate feeling this way. If I'd just done it the way I was "supposed" to do it, we'd be ready to buy that damned house.
Now, because of all my detours we're missing the opportunity by just 'this' much. And my parents are sick and unable to care for themselves and I can't do anything but drive them to the hospital and watch them decline.
christ. I just want to disappear.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Had a blast meeting DJ and Amanda's whole brood! 5 lovely, energetic, personality-filled balls of fun! Of course seeing the big happy family made my uterus flip! Ah well. I'm trying to repeat the soothing mantra: "If it's meant to happen it will happen". I've had to repeat it so often about so many different aspects of life that it's becoming as second nature as my own name! Don't be surprised if you meet me one day soon and I intoduce myself as "If it's meant to happen it will happen!" or respond to "Hey Beth! How are you?" with a blithe but somewhat maniacal "IF ITS MEANT TO HAPPEN IT WILL HAPPEN!!!!"
Anyway. Winning 84 million dollars in the lottery was, apparently, not meant to happen last night. Neither was cleaning the apartment. Nor securing a student loan for the coming year, nor getting a call back from the realtors selling 40 Arlington street.
What was meant to happen yesterday? Visiting Dad but not doing anything productive (I.E. doing the garden or cleaning the bird cage), going to McMenamy's with Mum (yes I still hate fish and was relegated to the 'Landlubber's' section of the menu), Wathing a good chunk of the Law and Order SVU marathon (clang clang!), picking Matt up from driver's ed (driving by the house on Arlington Street for a minute or two since I was on that side of town anyway... sigh.), watching Stardust with aaron when we were beginning to go mad watching Law and Order (clang....yawn...clang...), Then going on a midnight adventure down route 44 and into haunted rehoboth.
So I didn't win the lottery. So I'm stressed about money and hanging on the edge of reason and reality. So what?
I'm enjoying my life, enjoying the time we have together before the shit officially hits the fan. Sometimes I wish we could just disappear and stay in this suspended state of fun and joy and laughter and warmth and cuddling and wasting hours and not worrying.
If it's meant to happen it will happen!
Anyway. Winning 84 million dollars in the lottery was, apparently, not meant to happen last night. Neither was cleaning the apartment. Nor securing a student loan for the coming year, nor getting a call back from the realtors selling 40 Arlington street.
What was meant to happen yesterday? Visiting Dad but not doing anything productive (I.E. doing the garden or cleaning the bird cage), going to McMenamy's with Mum (yes I still hate fish and was relegated to the 'Landlubber's' section of the menu), Wathing a good chunk of the Law and Order SVU marathon (clang clang!), picking Matt up from driver's ed (driving by the house on Arlington Street for a minute or two since I was on that side of town anyway... sigh.), watching Stardust with aaron when we were beginning to go mad watching Law and Order (clang....yawn...clang...), Then going on a midnight adventure down route 44 and into haunted rehoboth.
So I didn't win the lottery. So I'm stressed about money and hanging on the edge of reason and reality. So what?
I'm enjoying my life, enjoying the time we have together before the shit officially hits the fan. Sometimes I wish we could just disappear and stay in this suspended state of fun and joy and laughter and warmth and cuddling and wasting hours and not worrying.
If it's meant to happen it will happen!
Monday, August 03, 2009
Tapas and troubles
Woke up this morning to the news that my much-needed student loan has been denied, even with the security of a well qualified co-signer. Fun fun. Turns out the screwing over Aaron & I got from AES is still haunting us and not even my brother's huge salary and spotless credit can save us!
So the next year or more is going to be miserable and miserly, pinching pennies and worrying from day to day to day to day. Hey, its a recession right?
So it seems only fitting that last night we had a wonderfully fulfilling evening of food and friendship at Jeff's! We had a dinner party with a "garden fresh tapas" theme. What a blast! Aaron and I went overboard as usual- spending more than we aught to achieve "garden fresh". Jeff spent alo0t less because he actuall has a garden and grows some fabulous vegetable and herbs!!
Anyhow, we had some great culinary innovations- I'm proud of my offerings and Aaron has invented something quite new and beautiful and exciting! So new and exciting that I'm not going to say anything more about it until it's prfected and marketed in our pastry shop one day!
Oh I sincerely hope we open a chocolate\pastry shop someday soon-- Aaron is so gifted and talented and innovative and passionate... I really think this is his calling.
Oh. And we didn't win the lottery, so still no hope for the house on Arlington street :) We figured if we had millions of dollars to play with it wouldn't matter who bought the house: we'd just walk up to them and say "how much you want for it?" and then it would be ours!
But no such luck.
Right now Aaron and I are headed over to grandma's to see aaron's cousins who are up visiting from Florida. We get to meet 2 or 3 new ones!
So the next year or more is going to be miserable and miserly, pinching pennies and worrying from day to day to day to day. Hey, its a recession right?
So it seems only fitting that last night we had a wonderfully fulfilling evening of food and friendship at Jeff's! We had a dinner party with a "garden fresh tapas" theme. What a blast! Aaron and I went overboard as usual- spending more than we aught to achieve "garden fresh". Jeff spent alo0t less because he actuall has a garden and grows some fabulous vegetable and herbs!!
Anyhow, we had some great culinary innovations- I'm proud of my offerings and Aaron has invented something quite new and beautiful and exciting! So new and exciting that I'm not going to say anything more about it until it's prfected and marketed in our pastry shop one day!
Oh I sincerely hope we open a chocolate\pastry shop someday soon-- Aaron is so gifted and talented and innovative and passionate... I really think this is his calling.
Oh. And we didn't win the lottery, so still no hope for the house on Arlington street :) We figured if we had millions of dollars to play with it wouldn't matter who bought the house: we'd just walk up to them and say "how much you want for it?" and then it would be ours!
But no such luck.
Right now Aaron and I are headed over to grandma's to see aaron's cousins who are up visiting from Florida. We get to meet 2 or 3 new ones!
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Growing Pains
So we've come to terms with our restless will to move on, to do something more, to step into the next phase of life. We want a home, not only a studio aprtment crammed to bursting. We want a family of our own, not just a passel of nieces and nephews and a pair or adorable, cuddly cats. We want careers, not simply jobs. We want.
As Aaron said yesterday on our long drive along the cape, delivering taffy and trying to reconcile the loss of a budding, ephemeral dream: "The Honeymoon's Over."
And what a grand honeymoon it has been. Making our home out of this small shell of an apartment, innumerable trips to Ikea and Lowes. Learning the joy and frustration of sharing such a tiny space. Cooking in the most bizzarrely shaped and cramped kitchenette imaginable. Taking delight in every orange accessory we found at a yard sale or at a bargain store. Hanging mirrors and framing photos and trying not to kill the houseplants.
And then enjoying it. Enjoying the loft bed he built with his own hands. Showing off the floating orange shelves we designed and built and installed together. Redesigning the office for a more efficient use of space (7x4 ish). Relaxing on the couch we searched high and low to find (and swallowed hard to shell out the $400.00 for!). Watching the tv we go in one of those doorbuster sales a few day-after-thanksgivings ago. picking books of the bookcases he designed and built. feeding and marveling at the little mouse we rescued from the wall or giggling at how grumpy our tiny robo dwarf hamster always looks.
And laughing. and smiling, and cuddling and sighing with contented satisfaction. This is our home. this is our nest. No matter where we move in the future or how many years go by this will always be our first home. The existence we carved out together. The box we decorated and rearranged and molded and shaped until it was and is ours. Our little piece of paradise with two orange chairs and too many pets.
We don't need a big house to be happy. We don't need the passel of kids I've always dreamt of. We don't need dream jobs or money or fame or anything in particular-- only eachother. Always each other.
These past two + years together as a married couple, here in our little studio have been the happiest of my life and I wouldn't trade them for anything. Not even that big beautiful perfect dream of a home on Arlington street.
I know wherever we end up will be prefectly wonderful because at the end of the day we'll come home to each other, and that is all I ever wanted, all I ever worked for and hoped for and prayed for. I am grateful beyond measure. I'm a luckyh, lucky woman and I don't want anything more than what we're already blessed with.
So let the honeymoon continue. No more yearning for things beyond our reach, no more itching to move on. There's nothing wrong with the here-and-now. It may be cramped. It may be humble. It may be all sorts of imperfect- but to me it is heaven.
As Aaron said yesterday on our long drive along the cape, delivering taffy and trying to reconcile the loss of a budding, ephemeral dream: "The Honeymoon's Over."
And what a grand honeymoon it has been. Making our home out of this small shell of an apartment, innumerable trips to Ikea and Lowes. Learning the joy and frustration of sharing such a tiny space. Cooking in the most bizzarrely shaped and cramped kitchenette imaginable. Taking delight in every orange accessory we found at a yard sale or at a bargain store. Hanging mirrors and framing photos and trying not to kill the houseplants.
And then enjoying it. Enjoying the loft bed he built with his own hands. Showing off the floating orange shelves we designed and built and installed together. Redesigning the office for a more efficient use of space (7x4 ish). Relaxing on the couch we searched high and low to find (and swallowed hard to shell out the $400.00 for!). Watching the tv we go in one of those doorbuster sales a few day-after-thanksgivings ago. picking books of the bookcases he designed and built. feeding and marveling at the little mouse we rescued from the wall or giggling at how grumpy our tiny robo dwarf hamster always looks.
And laughing. and smiling, and cuddling and sighing with contented satisfaction. This is our home. this is our nest. No matter where we move in the future or how many years go by this will always be our first home. The existence we carved out together. The box we decorated and rearranged and molded and shaped until it was and is ours. Our little piece of paradise with two orange chairs and too many pets.
We don't need a big house to be happy. We don't need the passel of kids I've always dreamt of. We don't need dream jobs or money or fame or anything in particular-- only eachother. Always each other.
These past two + years together as a married couple, here in our little studio have been the happiest of my life and I wouldn't trade them for anything. Not even that big beautiful perfect dream of a home on Arlington street.
I know wherever we end up will be prefectly wonderful because at the end of the day we'll come home to each other, and that is all I ever wanted, all I ever worked for and hoped for and prayed for. I am grateful beyond measure. I'm a luckyh, lucky woman and I don't want anything more than what we're already blessed with.
So let the honeymoon continue. No more yearning for things beyond our reach, no more itching to move on. There's nothing wrong with the here-and-now. It may be cramped. It may be humble. It may be all sorts of imperfect- but to me it is heaven.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
