You know, A and I aren't perfect. It's not even that we pretend to be perfect, but we are generally happy and sometimes I think that other people look at us and think that we have "everything". And we are pretty lucky - we have a solid marriage, we have good jobs and a more-than comfortable lifestyle, the best furry animals in the world and loving and supportive families.
But a few weeks back we had a minor little fight. I said something stupid and he snapped at me and suddenly it all seemed like too much to bear and I broke down into tears. We talked a little about it, being a misunderstanding and all, but later that night when I still couldn't sleep I got to thinking.
One isn't the loneliest number.
Because, if you're alone, well you're just that. You're alone. You know where you stand, you know that you're on your own and honestly, the world is your oyster. Go get 'em. I'm sure that it's tough not having the support of a partner, but you know what's also tough? Not having the support of YOUR partner.
This is what I think. Two is the loneliest number.
Because the worst is when you have someone by your side, someone who you love and who pledged before God and your friends and your family to be with you for the rest of your life, and you still feel lonely. When they don't understand, or don't try to understand what you're feeling and what you're facing, don't try to reach out and help or hug, and they just roll over in bed and start snoring. It's one thing to be alone by yourself. It's quite another to be alone when you're with another person.
I don't want to blow this out of proportion or anything - I mean, like I said, I have a wonderful marriage and a very happy life. This was a fleeting moment, and when I woke up the next morning to a hug and a cup of coffee on the counter I felt as blessed as can be. But I also wanted to say that being with another person, having a partner - it isn't everything. It doesn't mean that you won't ever feel lonely. Sometimes, you'll feel even worse.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Not the Baby Anymore
So I'm just going to come right out with it. I'm getting old.
I know, I know, I'm not THAT old. But the truth is that I've honestly never FELT old. I guess that one of the main things is that I've mostly always hung out with people who are older than I am, so no matter how old I've gotten, they've always been one step ahead. I guess there's nothing like old friends to make you feel young!
It's been the same at work, as well. I was hired right out of college into a lower-level management position - I pretty much skipped the entry level job. Immediately I was at the young end of my peer group. Sometimes by a little, sometimes by a lot, but there was really never anyone younger than me in the group. This has pretty much continued in my career - until this week.
I was in Vegas for a Marketing Summit. On the plane right out, I watched the Hot Tub Time Machine with my boss - which he found hysterical because of many of the 80's-90's references, and I found hysterical because - well, it's a hysterical movie. But we spent some time laughing about how the majority of the movie took place in 1986 - when I was all of 4. Fast forward to the meeting, where I was once again generally younger than most participants. It wasn't until we got to the session on Social Marketing that I started to feel a little uncomfortable.
Our corporate office recently hired a "Manager of Social Media". Now, of course this in and of itself is interesting, and I'm pretty proud that we're trying to stay on the "edge" of this important shift in the world of marketing. And honestly, this kid is pretty sharp. But you know what - he's just that. He's a KID! Seriously, probably right out of college - 23, maybe 24 years old. He wore a lime green shirt and a white tie and his presentation was full of youtube videos and no capitalization. I leaned over to my boss to say "Whoa, what's up with the no capitalization thing?" and he bust out laughing and pointed at me saying "Ha! You're OLD!"
And it hit me like a ton of bricks. He was right. There was some shit this kid said that I'd never even HEARD OF. And again, I mean, he's great - seems like a really intelligent kid and I know that he's going to be a huge asset to our company. I just couldn't stop thinking about how much older I am than him. I'm the one sitting at the table going "Huh? What now? Could you repeat that? Do you mean I can find this on the, what did you call it - the IN-TER-NET?" It was crazy, dudes. Totally, totally crazy.
That night we had dinner with a fellow franchisee. He brought along one of his new employees - another marketing manager fresh out of college. She was so nice - very articulate and pretty and again probably about 23 years old. I mentioned to her something about being away from my husband and she looked at me and said, "Oh wow - you're MARRIED?" and I was like OMG. Seriously. I am the old married lady at the table. When did that happen?!?!
So I guess the moral of the story is that hanging out with old people is good for your self esteem but no matter what you do, time keeps ticking away and sooner or later you're going to be faced with someone younger than you, so at least try to humble about it.
I know, I know, I'm not THAT old. But the truth is that I've honestly never FELT old. I guess that one of the main things is that I've mostly always hung out with people who are older than I am, so no matter how old I've gotten, they've always been one step ahead. I guess there's nothing like old friends to make you feel young!
It's been the same at work, as well. I was hired right out of college into a lower-level management position - I pretty much skipped the entry level job. Immediately I was at the young end of my peer group. Sometimes by a little, sometimes by a lot, but there was really never anyone younger than me in the group. This has pretty much continued in my career - until this week.
I was in Vegas for a Marketing Summit. On the plane right out, I watched the Hot Tub Time Machine with my boss - which he found hysterical because of many of the 80's-90's references, and I found hysterical because - well, it's a hysterical movie. But we spent some time laughing about how the majority of the movie took place in 1986 - when I was all of 4. Fast forward to the meeting, where I was once again generally younger than most participants. It wasn't until we got to the session on Social Marketing that I started to feel a little uncomfortable.
Our corporate office recently hired a "Manager of Social Media". Now, of course this in and of itself is interesting, and I'm pretty proud that we're trying to stay on the "edge" of this important shift in the world of marketing. And honestly, this kid is pretty sharp. But you know what - he's just that. He's a KID! Seriously, probably right out of college - 23, maybe 24 years old. He wore a lime green shirt and a white tie and his presentation was full of youtube videos and no capitalization. I leaned over to my boss to say "Whoa, what's up with the no capitalization thing?" and he bust out laughing and pointed at me saying "Ha! You're OLD!"
And it hit me like a ton of bricks. He was right. There was some shit this kid said that I'd never even HEARD OF. And again, I mean, he's great - seems like a really intelligent kid and I know that he's going to be a huge asset to our company. I just couldn't stop thinking about how much older I am than him. I'm the one sitting at the table going "Huh? What now? Could you repeat that? Do you mean I can find this on the, what did you call it - the IN-TER-NET?" It was crazy, dudes. Totally, totally crazy.
That night we had dinner with a fellow franchisee. He brought along one of his new employees - another marketing manager fresh out of college. She was so nice - very articulate and pretty and again probably about 23 years old. I mentioned to her something about being away from my husband and she looked at me and said, "Oh wow - you're MARRIED?" and I was like OMG. Seriously. I am the old married lady at the table. When did that happen?!?!
So I guess the moral of the story is that hanging out with old people is good for your self esteem but no matter what you do, time keeps ticking away and sooner or later you're going to be faced with someone younger than you, so at least try to humble about it.
Friday, November 12, 2010
O Christmas Tree
Well, it's that time of year again. You know - the end of October. When all families venture out to find the perfect christmas tree. Okay, so yeah, I guess we're a little on the "early" side of things, but this is life when you have a husband OB-SESS-ED with all things Christmas.
Let me back up a bit and explain why we were traipsing through a tree farm on a brisk October day. We found Exley's last year when we were once again in search of the perfect place to find our perfect tree. We are pretty tough to please in this department since we tend to ask a lot of our trees, mainly that 1. they are ginormous and 2. they stay alive for a bazillion years (read: six-seven weeks). We've been able to find places to "cut your own tree" (which helps with requirement #2), and we've been able to find places with pre-cut ginormous trees, we have never been able to find a place that allowed us to find both. So last year we took a trip over the bridge to dirty Jersey and drove an hour to Exley's (Side note: I find evidence that God has a sense of humor in that many of the things I love the most are in dirty Jersey. Namely christmas trees, wine, greyhounds, and my best friends). Lo and behold - Exley's was everything we wanted and more - a huge field of mature trees just waiting to be cruely cut down in their prime and dragged through the mud to become the centerpiece of our holiday traditions. Seriously there was just tree after tree. As A giggled and clapped his hands like an excited schoolgirl, we began the search in ernest. Quickly we found it - the perfect tree! We looked for a price tag and only found a red tie. We searched for an elf to help us and our hopes were dashed when we learned the meaning of the red tie - the tree had already been selected! Bought and paid for! Well, no worries then, there were plenty of trees. Plenty of trees - all with the tell-tale red tie. A was so sad - so many perfect trees, so many red ties. It was then that we learned the awful truth - Exley's allows tagging to begin at HALLOWEEN! Art was enranged - he yelled, loudly - "BUT THAT IS NOT FAIR! THAT IS CHEATING! CHEATING AT CHRISTMAS!" Dejected and tree-less, we went to Exley's second farm where we found a lovely White Pine, but I am not going to lie to you, our holiday was marred by The Tree That Got Away.
Determined not to let it happen again, A sent me an actual Outlook appointment request for Halloween 2010. Fast forward to this year, when at 8:30 am on October 31 I opened my eyes to A's smiling face - "LET'S GO GET OUR TREE!!!" I begged for another hour of sleep but he would not be dissauded, telling me that I was lucky that we hadn't slept in the parking lot last night. So there we were, once again on the road to Exley's.
We arrived to face the expanse of beautiful trees. A was momentarily shocked to learn that since Halloween was on a Sunday this year tagging had actually begun the day before, a fact that caused great indignation and almost ruined the day (and in truth - although his mood rallied A could not help but point out EVERY TREE that had a red tie and that it would have probably been THE ONE).
Let me back up a bit and explain why we were traipsing through a tree farm on a brisk October day. We found Exley's last year when we were once again in search of the perfect place to find our perfect tree. We are pretty tough to please in this department since we tend to ask a lot of our trees, mainly that 1. they are ginormous and 2. they stay alive for a bazillion years (read: six-seven weeks). We've been able to find places to "cut your own tree" (which helps with requirement #2), and we've been able to find places with pre-cut ginormous trees, we have never been able to find a place that allowed us to find both. So last year we took a trip over the bridge to dirty Jersey and drove an hour to Exley's (Side note: I find evidence that God has a sense of humor in that many of the things I love the most are in dirty Jersey. Namely christmas trees, wine, greyhounds, and my best friends). Lo and behold - Exley's was everything we wanted and more - a huge field of mature trees just waiting to be cruely cut down in their prime and dragged through the mud to become the centerpiece of our holiday traditions. Seriously there was just tree after tree. As A giggled and clapped his hands like an excited schoolgirl, we began the search in ernest. Quickly we found it - the perfect tree! We looked for a price tag and only found a red tie. We searched for an elf to help us and our hopes were dashed when we learned the meaning of the red tie - the tree had already been selected! Bought and paid for! Well, no worries then, there were plenty of trees. Plenty of trees - all with the tell-tale red tie. A was so sad - so many perfect trees, so many red ties. It was then that we learned the awful truth - Exley's allows tagging to begin at HALLOWEEN! Art was enranged - he yelled, loudly - "BUT THAT IS NOT FAIR! THAT IS CHEATING! CHEATING AT CHRISTMAS!" Dejected and tree-less, we went to Exley's second farm where we found a lovely White Pine, but I am not going to lie to you, our holiday was marred by The Tree That Got Away.
Determined not to let it happen again, A sent me an actual Outlook appointment request for Halloween 2010. Fast forward to this year, when at 8:30 am on October 31 I opened my eyes to A's smiling face - "LET'S GO GET OUR TREE!!!" I begged for another hour of sleep but he would not be dissauded, telling me that I was lucky that we hadn't slept in the parking lot last night. So there we were, once again on the road to Exley's.
We arrived to face the expanse of beautiful trees. A was momentarily shocked to learn that since Halloween was on a Sunday this year tagging had actually begun the day before, a fact that caused great indignation and almost ruined the day (and in truth - although his mood rallied A could not help but point out EVERY TREE that had a red tie and that it would have probably been THE ONE).
We started right away, being careful to walk down each row of trees, leaving no poverbial rock (tree) unturned.
Halfway though the day, we thought it would be helpful to remember which trees we liked if we snapped a photo of each one. I honestly did not consider the amusement value they would provide on the old (new) blog, but here you have it:
You can see A here, posing next to the tree as a size comparison. You can see he takes his job very seriously.
Not the one.
Not the one, either.
And then, finally, after many miles and much searching, we found it:
Isn't it BEA-U-TIFUL? It is a lovely Norway Spruce. Shorter needles and stronger branches for our menagrie of heavy christmas ornaments. It is quite tall (as you can see by A's comparison) and very chubby. We are only nervous that it will last til Christmas as it has a reputation for being less hardy than other species, but we have to risk it for our perfect little (enormous) tree.
After we found it, we decorated it with some garland so that it would start to feel festive the last few weeks before it joined our family. We can hardly wait for thanksgiving!
Compass wonders what presents Santa will leave under there this year. A new bed? A giant bone? A screaming monkey? The possibilities are endless.
It was a perfect start to the holiday season. Christmas is coming, that's for sure!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Short and Sweet
I think that a little problem that I've been having on this old (new) blog is that if I don't have time to get all my thoughts out and write a novel and a half, I just don't want to write at all. Damn that Zelda. But you know life is crazy, and busy and it's nearly impossible to find enough time to blog all that often when I have such great expectations of myself. Ahem.
So I'll just give a short synopsis of the past week. On Wednesday, we headed to Indiana, PA for A's sister's wedding. Thursday I had my second manicure EVER. Woot. I also had what I am hoping does not become my first documented migrane EVER. Boo. I've actually been having some weird headache deals lately, but this was the first one that came together with the vision weirdness and pain. Hello, STRESS.
Also on Thursday, Compass went ape shit crazy in the hotel room when we left for the rehersal dinner. No seriously, the hotel called A's cell and do belive the words "ape shit" and "crazy" were both used. A quick google of "Indiana Pet Sitter" and two phone calls later we found a literal angel who came right over to our hotel to hang out with a certain spoiled little greyhound. He was, of course, happy as a clam the rest of the evening (and the next day, as well - was a wee bit expensive but worth every penny to know that our darling was safe and happy - do you see why he's spoiled, eh?)
Friday was the big day and everything went mostly according to plan. I got my hair done for the fourth time in my life if you count the two times I had it down when I was wee little in my aunt's weddings. While the final result was kicking awesome, I was not a fan of the spraying and teasing and pulling. I'll take a ponytail any day. The weather even cooperated for a few quick snaps outside.
After being announced into the ballroom as "Doctor and Mrs. R" courtesy of a very kind and perhaps too trusting DJ, the fun really got started and we danced the night away. I will tell you this much - we Yings can dance. By which I mean, we are really enthusiastic about throwing our bodies around as if we are dancing. At any rate, we have a blast, and that's the most important thing.
We made it home on Sunday just in time for my vision to go all wonky in which I am hoping will not be the second documented migrane. Ugh. I know - it's just stress. Too much, too long - my body needs a break. And break it will have! Well, after my little 18 hour stint in Vegas this week. After that, a break!
Well, I guess that wasn't so short after all. Ah well. You know me.
So I'll just give a short synopsis of the past week. On Wednesday, we headed to Indiana, PA for A's sister's wedding. Thursday I had my second manicure EVER. Woot. I also had what I am hoping does not become my first documented migrane EVER. Boo. I've actually been having some weird headache deals lately, but this was the first one that came together with the vision weirdness and pain. Hello, STRESS.
Also on Thursday, Compass went ape shit crazy in the hotel room when we left for the rehersal dinner. No seriously, the hotel called A's cell and do belive the words "ape shit" and "crazy" were both used. A quick google of "Indiana Pet Sitter" and two phone calls later we found a literal angel who came right over to our hotel to hang out with a certain spoiled little greyhound. He was, of course, happy as a clam the rest of the evening (and the next day, as well - was a wee bit expensive but worth every penny to know that our darling was safe and happy - do you see why he's spoiled, eh?)
Friday was the big day and everything went mostly according to plan. I got my hair done for the fourth time in my life if you count the two times I had it down when I was wee little in my aunt's weddings. While the final result was kicking awesome, I was not a fan of the spraying and teasing and pulling. I'll take a ponytail any day. The weather even cooperated for a few quick snaps outside.
After being announced into the ballroom as "Doctor and Mrs. R" courtesy of a very kind and perhaps too trusting DJ, the fun really got started and we danced the night away. I will tell you this much - we Yings can dance. By which I mean, we are really enthusiastic about throwing our bodies around as if we are dancing. At any rate, we have a blast, and that's the most important thing.
We made it home on Sunday just in time for my vision to go all wonky in which I am hoping will not be the second documented migrane. Ugh. I know - it's just stress. Too much, too long - my body needs a break. And break it will have! Well, after my little 18 hour stint in Vegas this week. After that, a break!
Well, I guess that wasn't so short after all. Ah well. You know me.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
In which Christine O'Donnell and I find some common ground
We are both, officially, NOT US senators.
Well done, Delaware. I am not gonna lie to you, you had me a little nervous there. Glad you came through and I don't have to move.
Post script for my someday children: Your father was called suddenly out of town and was not able to vote today, saving us a messy divorce and ensuring that you might have a chance to someday exist. Talk about a close call all around.
Well done, Delaware. I am not gonna lie to you, you had me a little nervous there. Glad you came through and I don't have to move.
Post script for my someday children: Your father was called suddenly out of town and was not able to vote today, saving us a messy divorce and ensuring that you might have a chance to someday exist. Talk about a close call all around.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Happy Halloween!
I'm not gonna lie to you, we had a little bit of FAIL in this year's halloween extravangaza. But these guys are so cute, I had to share.
Introducing our HAPPY MEAL!
First, we have our HOT DOG -
Then, we have our side of FRIES -
And what happy meal would be complete without a SODA -
I'm afraid poor Simon bore the brunt of the costume FAIL but he was such a good sport.
Happy halloween!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Proud to be an American?
"The United States - how can you live in that country?" the man had asked. She had shrugged. "A lot of my stuff is there," she said, and it was then she first felt all the dark love and shame that came from the pure accident of home, the deep and arbitrary place that happened to be yours.
-Lori Moore, Agnes of Iowa
It was probably sometime in 2001 that I bought a pair of Doc Marten boots covered in the American flag. Ironically, I bought them in Canada, when I was visiting Toronto with my family on summer vacation. I was proud to be an American, and I loved those freaking boots.
I was driving in my Pap's red truck when I heard that President Bush had officially declared war. I cried a little, and vowed that until the war was over, I would not wear those boots again.
Sometime in 2005, I sold my American flag boots on eBay. There was no end to the war in sight, and I was sick of the shame I felt each time I saw those boots in my closet.
In 2008, I voted for the man who would become our president and cried again as I heard him tell our nation "Yes we can." I only wished that I could have been wearing my boots that day. But time went on, as it does, and two years later while we've moved a bit forward, I don't know that I'd be parading around town in those boots, even if I had them.
It is election season and I suppose it is inevitable that I've got politics on the brain. But for me, this election has been different. Maybe it's just because I live in Delaware and have been subject to these ridiculous Christine O'Donnell ads. Maybe it's because in between those ads are previews of Sarah Palin's new TLC show. But it has struck me how absolutely ludicrous American politics has become. From "I'm not a witch" to "Golly gee, I can see Russia from my house!" to one I just heard about recently - Republican candidate Ken Buck comparing homosexuality to alcoholism.
I know that all of these examples are of Republican candidates, but to me, this isn't about being a Democrat or a Republican. This is about being an American. This is about taking some pride in our political system and people who we choose to represent us. Partisan politics aside, I believe that we all want to work towards a better America. A country that continues to flourish and prosper. A country where we take care of our children and our elderly, where everyone, regardless of gender, race, sexual orientation can be themselves and lead happy lives. I know that we disagree of what that looks like and how to make it happen, but I don't believe that many folks would argue that we're not going to go anywhere very fast when we've got these absurd caricatures of politicians leading the way. It is time for us to demand more of our candidates, of our elected officials, and of ourselves. I would lead the charge, but unfortunately I seem to have misplaced my army boots...
-Lori Moore, Agnes of Iowa
It was probably sometime in 2001 that I bought a pair of Doc Marten boots covered in the American flag. Ironically, I bought them in Canada, when I was visiting Toronto with my family on summer vacation. I was proud to be an American, and I loved those freaking boots.
I was driving in my Pap's red truck when I heard that President Bush had officially declared war. I cried a little, and vowed that until the war was over, I would not wear those boots again.
Sometime in 2005, I sold my American flag boots on eBay. There was no end to the war in sight, and I was sick of the shame I felt each time I saw those boots in my closet.
In 2008, I voted for the man who would become our president and cried again as I heard him tell our nation "Yes we can." I only wished that I could have been wearing my boots that day. But time went on, as it does, and two years later while we've moved a bit forward, I don't know that I'd be parading around town in those boots, even if I had them.
It is election season and I suppose it is inevitable that I've got politics on the brain. But for me, this election has been different. Maybe it's just because I live in Delaware and have been subject to these ridiculous Christine O'Donnell ads. Maybe it's because in between those ads are previews of Sarah Palin's new TLC show. But it has struck me how absolutely ludicrous American politics has become. From "I'm not a witch" to "Golly gee, I can see Russia from my house!" to one I just heard about recently - Republican candidate Ken Buck comparing homosexuality to alcoholism.
I know that all of these examples are of Republican candidates, but to me, this isn't about being a Democrat or a Republican. This is about being an American. This is about taking some pride in our political system and people who we choose to represent us. Partisan politics aside, I believe that we all want to work towards a better America. A country that continues to flourish and prosper. A country where we take care of our children and our elderly, where everyone, regardless of gender, race, sexual orientation can be themselves and lead happy lives. I know that we disagree of what that looks like and how to make it happen, but I don't believe that many folks would argue that we're not going to go anywhere very fast when we've got these absurd caricatures of politicians leading the way. It is time for us to demand more of our candidates, of our elected officials, and of ourselves. I would lead the charge, but unfortunately I seem to have misplaced my army boots...
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Quote of the day
"My childhood had no narrative; it was all just a combination of air and no air: waiting for life to happen, the body to get big, the mind to grow fearless. There were no stories, no ideas, not really, not yet. Just things unearthed from elsewhere and propped up later to help the mind get around. At the time, however, it was liquid, like a song - nothing much. It was just a space with some people in it.
But one can tell a story anyway.
One can get a running start, then begin, do it, and be done."
-Lori Moore, Who Will Run The Frog Hospital
But one can tell a story anyway.
One can get a running start, then begin, do it, and be done."
-Lori Moore, Who Will Run The Frog Hospital
Monday, October 25, 2010
iPad, youPad
I got home this evening after yet another crazy monday to a note and two boxes on the kitchen table. The note was a really awesome thank you from my husband that was really appreciated. I'd like to say that was the best part, and I mean, it WAS really nice, and would have been the best part except that I opened the boxes and found...
....wait for it....
... an ipad!!!
We've been talking about getting one for a few weeks now, but me and my frugal scroogey self just couldn't seem to pull the trigger. He knew I wanted one, and knew we had a little "extra" in the budget this month and more than that, he knew that I deserved it. We work hard for our money, and it's nice and appropriate to treat ourselves every once in awhile.
Let me just tell you - 6 hours later - it is as awesome as it looks.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Runs In The Family
There was one thing that I didn't write about in my post about A's Gram that I wanted to be sure that I remembered and wanted to record on the old (new) blog.
When we were at the funeral, one of his mom's cousins came up to us and shared her favorite memory of Gram. She told us that she would always remember opening one of Gram's drawers and seeing all of the clothes folded so neatly. She said that as a little girl she loved to look in Gram's closets because her color coordinated hangers were so pretty.
You know how there are some things that you just "don't get" about your spouse? The color coordination of hangers is one of those things. You see - A does that too. We each have our own colors and I believe there is even an intricate system of what type of clothes get what hangers. I mean, my family has a pretty neat house but A takes organization (especially of clothes) to the extreme. The way he stacks his socks has always driven me nuts.
But that moment was like when you are taking a photo and suddenly the lens zooms out and what you were focused on just becomes a small part of a bigger picture. I didn't know that A got that from his Gram, and in that moment, that annoying little habit turned into a piece of his history - his inheritance - something that was not a unique quirk but something that identified him as a part of a bigger group.
I can't say that it won't still get on my nerves, but when it does, at least I'll know whose name to mutter under my breath when I roll my eyes. Nevertheless, I'm glad that we'll always have a way to keep Gram in our hearts - or in our sock drawer, at least.
When we were at the funeral, one of his mom's cousins came up to us and shared her favorite memory of Gram. She told us that she would always remember opening one of Gram's drawers and seeing all of the clothes folded so neatly. She said that as a little girl she loved to look in Gram's closets because her color coordinated hangers were so pretty.
You know how there are some things that you just "don't get" about your spouse? The color coordination of hangers is one of those things. You see - A does that too. We each have our own colors and I believe there is even an intricate system of what type of clothes get what hangers. I mean, my family has a pretty neat house but A takes organization (especially of clothes) to the extreme. The way he stacks his socks has always driven me nuts.
But that moment was like when you are taking a photo and suddenly the lens zooms out and what you were focused on just becomes a small part of a bigger picture. I didn't know that A got that from his Gram, and in that moment, that annoying little habit turned into a piece of his history - his inheritance - something that was not a unique quirk but something that identified him as a part of a bigger group.
I can't say that it won't still get on my nerves, but when it does, at least I'll know whose name to mutter under my breath when I roll my eyes. Nevertheless, I'm glad that we'll always have a way to keep Gram in our hearts - or in our sock drawer, at least.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I'm Not a Witch Either.
If you had to tell the world one thing about you, what would it be?
Christine O'Donnell paid hundreds of thousands of dollars on an ad campaign to do just that. What did she have to say? Check it out for yourself.
I'm not a witch.
Really? I mean, REALLY? I'm not a witch? One thing you'd like to tell Delaware voters and that's what you pick? That's the best you've got?!
I'm nothing you've heard.
Now this part really gets me. You're NOTHING I've heard?! Am I the only one who understands the implied logic here? If you're NOTHING I've heard, then you must be assuming that I've heard only horrible things about you. Do you actually believe that the general opinion about you is that awful? IS the general opinion about you THAT BAD?!?! I mean - WHOA.
None of us are perfect.
Um, okay. I'll take that I'm not perfect and you - well, I mean. Yeah, we'll agree on that one.
None of us can be happy about what we see around us.
Well, if we include this ad then we can pretty much agree on that too.
I'd go to Washington and do what you'd do.
You know what I'd do in Washington? I'd wander around like a tourist with no freaking clue what's going on. I'd go out and get wasted and probably wake up wondering how the hell I got there in the first place. So again, I mean - I can't really argue except she gets to save a buck by skipping the booze.
I'm you.
No, Christine. No, you're not. You're not me at all. I guess we're both not witches, and I guess we both have vaginas, although we seem to substantially disagree on what to do with them (seriously, what good is having one if you don't have fun with it!) I don't believe you can "hug out the gay" (although I do love to hug the gays). I do believe in the hard scientific evidence that monkeys are our cousins (in fact, I think I have a cousin that only made it 3/4 of the way). Although I am not a constitutionalist as you are, I do know that the first amendment dictates the separation of church and state. You know, Christine, I'll even give you that I've done and said some stupid shit, too, but I've genuinely tried not to do it while being filmed. I'm not you. We don't share a single political viewpoint, and more than that, I'm a well-educated and articulate woman who can not only form coherent and logical opinions but express them clearly.
And BTW, Christine- I take back what I said about us both not being witches. I guess I'll have to carry that flag alone as well.
PS - This post is full of links - please mouse over the text for the hyperlinks. I wish they appeared in a different color and there is probably a way to do it but I don't know how. Don't miss her actual ad and in the final paragraph there are four links and a final one where she speaks directly about her "dabbling."
Christine O'Donnell paid hundreds of thousands of dollars on an ad campaign to do just that. What did she have to say? Check it out for yourself.
I'm not a witch.
Really? I mean, REALLY? I'm not a witch? One thing you'd like to tell Delaware voters and that's what you pick? That's the best you've got?!
I'm nothing you've heard.
Now this part really gets me. You're NOTHING I've heard?! Am I the only one who understands the implied logic here? If you're NOTHING I've heard, then you must be assuming that I've heard only horrible things about you. Do you actually believe that the general opinion about you is that awful? IS the general opinion about you THAT BAD?!?! I mean - WHOA.
None of us are perfect.
Um, okay. I'll take that I'm not perfect and you - well, I mean. Yeah, we'll agree on that one.
None of us can be happy about what we see around us.
Well, if we include this ad then we can pretty much agree on that too.
I'd go to Washington and do what you'd do.
You know what I'd do in Washington? I'd wander around like a tourist with no freaking clue what's going on. I'd go out and get wasted and probably wake up wondering how the hell I got there in the first place. So again, I mean - I can't really argue except she gets to save a buck by skipping the booze.
I'm you.
No, Christine. No, you're not. You're not me at all. I guess we're both not witches, and I guess we both have vaginas, although we seem to substantially disagree on what to do with them (seriously, what good is having one if you don't have fun with it!) I don't believe you can "hug out the gay" (although I do love to hug the gays). I do believe in the hard scientific evidence that monkeys are our cousins (in fact, I think I have a cousin that only made it 3/4 of the way). Although I am not a constitutionalist as you are, I do know that the first amendment dictates the separation of church and state. You know, Christine, I'll even give you that I've done and said some stupid shit, too, but I've genuinely tried not to do it while being filmed. I'm not you. We don't share a single political viewpoint, and more than that, I'm a well-educated and articulate woman who can not only form coherent and logical opinions but express them clearly.
And BTW, Christine- I take back what I said about us both not being witches. I guess I'll have to carry that flag alone as well.
PS - This post is full of links - please mouse over the text for the hyperlinks. I wish they appeared in a different color and there is probably a way to do it but I don't know how. Don't miss her actual ad and in the final paragraph there are four links and a final one where she speaks directly about her "dabbling."
Monday, October 18, 2010
Papa Ying Can Craft, Can You?
We Yings are a rather creative people, but mostly it's my sisters and my mama who get the creative street cred, if you know what I mean.
Well, not to be outdone, Papa Ying has proved that it's a marathon not a sprint and while this project took him many months (years?), it is well worth the wait. How seriously awesome is this?
Despite battling a few setbacks (as he was in the final stages of grouting for some reason he tried to vacuum the top of the table and sucked up a bunch of tiles!), the finished product is a true work of art. Do you think he needs convincing?
Well, not to be outdone, Papa Ying has proved that it's a marathon not a sprint and while this project took him many months (years?), it is well worth the wait. How seriously awesome is this?
While some of the pattern is random, there are also some cool designs and some meaningful symbols inlaid as well. He even put in a button he received when he ran the Marine Corp marathon a few years ago. The neatest part is that the table actually belonged to his grandmother so it is not only hip and cool it is kind of antique as well.
Despite battling a few setbacks (as he was in the final stages of grouting for some reason he tried to vacuum the top of the table and sucked up a bunch of tiles!), the finished product is a true work of art. Do you think he needs convincing?
Well done, Papa Ying. Maybe someday this table will belong to YOUR grandchildren!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Put Your Hands Up!
Whew.
I'm not gonna lie to you folks. These past six weeks have been a giant emotional rollercoaster. So many things have happened that I want to share my thoughts about, and I do plan to go back and write a few posts that I will just post-date for my own sanity. But to give a brief overview...
There are a few things that I've still got bumping around in my head and I'm looking forward to typing them out in the next few days.
But yeah. Whew. Whoa.
I'm not gonna lie to you folks. These past six weeks have been a giant emotional rollercoaster. So many things have happened that I want to share my thoughts about, and I do plan to go back and write a few posts that I will just post-date for my own sanity. But to give a brief overview...
- A interviewed for a promotion in Tampa, FL.
- We rescued a little kitty we named Oliver.
- The Steelers won the first game of the season without Ben.
- I can't sleep.
- A got the job in Tampa.
- We found out Oliver was a lady cat.
- We found out our house was worth $10.
- The Steelers lost their second starting quaterback. Still won game 2.
- A was offered $3 more in salary per year to move.
- A got an interview with a new company.
- I can't sleep.
- We survived the Cat Crisis of 2010.
- I cry myself to sleep.
- The Steelers won game 3.
- A turned down the promotion.
- A flew to New Hampshire on a day's notice to meet with new company.
- New company offered him job.
- A accepts job with new company, 10 days after first intervew.
- We have a giant party at our house with over a dozen out of town guests to celebrate A's big birthday.
- I wake up sick as a dog with a sore throat that I attempt to tame with frequent sips of Apple Cider Vinegar (which works but OMG almost makes you throw up).
- ON A's actual birthday, he accidentally shuts Compass' tail in our front door.
- While at the vet on his birthday, A gets a call that his Gramma had passed away.
- We pack up 2 cats, 1 dog and a week's worth of shiz-nitz and head to Pittsburgh.
- I can't sleep.
- We spend an emotional week with A's family saying goodbye to Gram.
- A comes down with my illness.
- We drive back across the turnpike and arrive home at midnight on Saturday.
- Praise the Lord, at least the Steelers have a BYE week so we can lie in bed and recover. Although I sleep most of the day Sunday, you guessed it - by Sunday night - I can't sleep.
There are a few things that I've still got bumping around in my head and I'm looking forward to typing them out in the next few days.
But yeah. Whew. Whoa.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
First etsy sale!
I made my first and second etsy sales lickety-split just like that! Two of my fall collars - a 2 inch martingale for a greyhound and a chic leaves tag collar for a sweet Jack Russell. Neither people I "know" so it's not even nepotism! YES!
Very exciting news for my burgeoning etsy career. I'm now only $999,975 away from making a million dollars. You know what they say - you can make it a dollar at a time. Clearly I'm out to prove it.
Very exciting news for my burgeoning etsy career. I'm now only $999,975 away from making a million dollars. You know what they say - you can make it a dollar at a time. Clearly I'm out to prove it.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
In Memory of Gram
Who can find a virtuous woman? She is far more precious than jewels...
Strength and honor are her clothing, and she can laugh at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and loving instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the activities of her household and is never idle.
Her sons rise up and call her blessed.
Her husband also praises her:
Many women are capable, but you surpass them all!
Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.
~Proverbs 31:10, 25-30
A J M, 82, of Springdale, passed away Monday, Oct. 4, 2010, surrounded by her loving family at UPMC Presbyterian Hospital, Pittsburgh. She was born Aug. 24, 1928, in Russellton, to the late F and B S L, and has been a lifelong resident of this area. Mrs. M was a member of St. Alphonsus Roman Catholic Church in Springdale. Among her interests, she enjoyed shopping, watching her grandchildren and cooking for her family. Survivors include her husband of 62 years, C M; daughters, K (A) R, of Springdale, K M C, of Harwick, and K M, of New Kensington; grandchildren, A (A) R, K R and T M; sisters, C M and D (F) T; brother, B (J) L; also nieces and nephews. She was preceded in death by her parents; a sister, J D; and two brothers, A L and J L. Friends will be received from 2 to 4 and 6 to 9 p.m. Thursday in Springdale at the CHARLES B. JARVIE FUNERAL HOME INC., 801 Pittsburgh St. Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 11 a.m. Friday in St. Alphonsus Church with entombment to follow in Our Lady of Hope Cemetery. Memorial donations may be made to Central Blood Bank, 5 Parkway Center, 875 Greentree Road, Pittsburgh, PA 15220.
Gram's obituary ran in all the local Pittsburgh papers. I thought I'd start with it, just because it laid out the facts. Date of birth, date of death. Recording of all family members. A place to start, I guess, an outline that I could try to fill in with color as best I can.
Gram was A's maternal grandmother. I didn't meet her until late 2002, when I had begun dating A. By that time, her health had already declined. She walked with a cane, and macular degeneration had slowly begun to rob her of her vision. Despite that, she was a spitfire. A real trip. She would always ask you to come "real close" so that she could see you, and she'd hold your face a few inches from hers and look at you very carefully before saying "Oh my, you're so pretty." I guess that I got her seal of approval pretty quick, and it was a good thing because it was clear that in this family Gram's approval carried some pretty heavy weight.
There are stories that I can share. About her love of cooking and food. Of her, hardly able to stand, propping herself up on the stove to make sure that Christmas dinner turned out just right. I'll always remember her teaching me how to fry apple fritters on Christmas eve - even though she couldn't see two feet in front of her damned if she didn't bark at me each time I accidentally stuck the fork into one of those fritters. I will always remember her like this - at her best even when she was physically suffering - in her kitchen cooking too much food for the people she loved.
But what I really want to do is not to just give more facts, but to try to share who she was, for my children and for their children, too. She was the strongest woman I've ever known. She fought so hard to live, even if living meant just lying in a hospital bed holding hands with her daughters and her husband. She held her family together with an iron fist. She was a true example of a matriarch - a powerful woman who led her family. There was never any doubt what was most important to Gram - and it wasn't money or fame - it was the faces around her kitchen table.
Now, don't get me wrong. She could be proud. I had witnessed her sharpness, hurting her daughters in a way that only a mother can. She had that "my way or the highway" attitude that made her impossible to argue with. She could be harsh in her opinions and she never hesitated to express them regardless of the company she kept. But these things - well, they all just made her who she was.
In the final years of her life, she suffered. There isn't a way to candy-coat the ending. But she was a faithful woman. She prayed the rosary with her daughters. She believed in her church and in her God, and I am certain that she believed that she would be rewarded for her suffering. And when that reward came both in the form of spending more days with her family and eventually in her release to heaven, I feel that she was at peace.
I spent some time last week going through photos and preparing a collage for the funeral. From small black and white photos to full color snapshots, I watched her life fly by. Dozens of photos of family - weddings, new babies, family vacations, special events. So many smiling faces, with Gram always in the center of it all. It struck me that this was the hard evidence of a life well-lived.
I have to say just a few words about her funeral, not really because I want to record it but because I think that it reveals who she was as a person in her life. To be honest, it was really my first experience of death in that up-close-and-personal way. But to be with her family - with her daughters, with her husband and with her grandchildren and see the way that they loved her and remembered her - it was truly remarkable. There was sadness, of course. But I could see how she had helped her daughters prepare for her ending. I could see her strength in them, and her faith that she had gone to a better place. I could see her husband's love for her - 62 years of marriage between them. It was Pap that nearly made my heart break in two as he struggled to say goodbye to the love of his life. I watched as her grandson, my husband, stood in a church in front of dozens of people and fought back tears as he spoke about his Gram. Afterwards, my father said, "You know, I felt like I watched A become a man today," and I thought that after eight years together, I saw a new side of my husband. It was as though as one generation passed, the next summoned her strength and the family that she had built prepared to move forward - without her physical body beside them, but with her spirit in their hearts. I did not find it ironic that she passed on his thirtieth birthday, it seemed was a sign that she knew that her family was well-prepared to go on.
As we said goodbye, I felt my own sadness, too, that she had been my Gram too - while eight years isn't a lifetime, it's no small thing, either. I grieved her loss for my children that would never know her. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to imagine that isn't quite the case at all. Probably, she's meeting them on the other side of heaven right now. I can see her caring for them, whispering to them about the family who is waiting for them, preparing to wrap them up and send them on the journey of a lifetime, straight into our arms. I can imagine years from now, when her great-grandaughter stomps to her room or her great-grandson refuses to finish his dinner, I will remember her, and know that she lives on in them, too.
Rest in peace, Gram.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I give thanks to my God upon every remembrance of you. ~Philippians 1:2-3
Strength and honor are her clothing, and she can laugh at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and loving instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the activities of her household and is never idle.
Her sons rise up and call her blessed.
Her husband also praises her:
Many women are capable, but you surpass them all!
Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.
~Proverbs 31:10, 25-30
A J M, 82, of Springdale, passed away Monday, Oct. 4, 2010, surrounded by her loving family at UPMC Presbyterian Hospital, Pittsburgh. She was born Aug. 24, 1928, in Russellton, to the late F and B S L, and has been a lifelong resident of this area. Mrs. M was a member of St. Alphonsus Roman Catholic Church in Springdale. Among her interests, she enjoyed shopping, watching her grandchildren and cooking for her family. Survivors include her husband of 62 years, C M; daughters, K (A) R, of Springdale, K M C, of Harwick, and K M, of New Kensington; grandchildren, A (A) R, K R and T M; sisters, C M and D (F) T; brother, B (J) L; also nieces and nephews. She was preceded in death by her parents; a sister, J D; and two brothers, A L and J L. Friends will be received from 2 to 4 and 6 to 9 p.m. Thursday in Springdale at the CHARLES B. JARVIE FUNERAL HOME INC., 801 Pittsburgh St. Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 11 a.m. Friday in St. Alphonsus Church with entombment to follow in Our Lady of Hope Cemetery. Memorial donations may be made to Central Blood Bank, 5 Parkway Center, 875 Greentree Road, Pittsburgh, PA 15220.
Gram's obituary ran in all the local Pittsburgh papers. I thought I'd start with it, just because it laid out the facts. Date of birth, date of death. Recording of all family members. A place to start, I guess, an outline that I could try to fill in with color as best I can.
Gram was A's maternal grandmother. I didn't meet her until late 2002, when I had begun dating A. By that time, her health had already declined. She walked with a cane, and macular degeneration had slowly begun to rob her of her vision. Despite that, she was a spitfire. A real trip. She would always ask you to come "real close" so that she could see you, and she'd hold your face a few inches from hers and look at you very carefully before saying "Oh my, you're so pretty." I guess that I got her seal of approval pretty quick, and it was a good thing because it was clear that in this family Gram's approval carried some pretty heavy weight.
There are stories that I can share. About her love of cooking and food. Of her, hardly able to stand, propping herself up on the stove to make sure that Christmas dinner turned out just right. I'll always remember her teaching me how to fry apple fritters on Christmas eve - even though she couldn't see two feet in front of her damned if she didn't bark at me each time I accidentally stuck the fork into one of those fritters. I will always remember her like this - at her best even when she was physically suffering - in her kitchen cooking too much food for the people she loved.
But what I really want to do is not to just give more facts, but to try to share who she was, for my children and for their children, too. She was the strongest woman I've ever known. She fought so hard to live, even if living meant just lying in a hospital bed holding hands with her daughters and her husband. She held her family together with an iron fist. She was a true example of a matriarch - a powerful woman who led her family. There was never any doubt what was most important to Gram - and it wasn't money or fame - it was the faces around her kitchen table.
Now, don't get me wrong. She could be proud. I had witnessed her sharpness, hurting her daughters in a way that only a mother can. She had that "my way or the highway" attitude that made her impossible to argue with. She could be harsh in her opinions and she never hesitated to express them regardless of the company she kept. But these things - well, they all just made her who she was.
In the final years of her life, she suffered. There isn't a way to candy-coat the ending. But she was a faithful woman. She prayed the rosary with her daughters. She believed in her church and in her God, and I am certain that she believed that she would be rewarded for her suffering. And when that reward came both in the form of spending more days with her family and eventually in her release to heaven, I feel that she was at peace.
I spent some time last week going through photos and preparing a collage for the funeral. From small black and white photos to full color snapshots, I watched her life fly by. Dozens of photos of family - weddings, new babies, family vacations, special events. So many smiling faces, with Gram always in the center of it all. It struck me that this was the hard evidence of a life well-lived.
I have to say just a few words about her funeral, not really because I want to record it but because I think that it reveals who she was as a person in her life. To be honest, it was really my first experience of death in that up-close-and-personal way. But to be with her family - with her daughters, with her husband and with her grandchildren and see the way that they loved her and remembered her - it was truly remarkable. There was sadness, of course. But I could see how she had helped her daughters prepare for her ending. I could see her strength in them, and her faith that she had gone to a better place. I could see her husband's love for her - 62 years of marriage between them. It was Pap that nearly made my heart break in two as he struggled to say goodbye to the love of his life. I watched as her grandson, my husband, stood in a church in front of dozens of people and fought back tears as he spoke about his Gram. Afterwards, my father said, "You know, I felt like I watched A become a man today," and I thought that after eight years together, I saw a new side of my husband. It was as though as one generation passed, the next summoned her strength and the family that she had built prepared to move forward - without her physical body beside them, but with her spirit in their hearts. I did not find it ironic that she passed on his thirtieth birthday, it seemed was a sign that she knew that her family was well-prepared to go on.
As we said goodbye, I felt my own sadness, too, that she had been my Gram too - while eight years isn't a lifetime, it's no small thing, either. I grieved her loss for my children that would never know her. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to imagine that isn't quite the case at all. Probably, she's meeting them on the other side of heaven right now. I can see her caring for them, whispering to them about the family who is waiting for them, preparing to wrap them up and send them on the journey of a lifetime, straight into our arms. I can imagine years from now, when her great-grandaughter stomps to her room or her great-grandson refuses to finish his dinner, I will remember her, and know that she lives on in them, too.
Rest in peace, Gram.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I give thanks to my God upon every remembrance of you. ~Philippians 1:2-3
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)