Monday, December 27, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
More context: We babysat Maddie (two-year-old daughter of some friends) on Saturday. She calls people "silly" sometimes in such a way that her mom says she thinks it sounds like she's really saying "dumbass."
Even more context: This conversation happened while walking Max last night. We met a dog (and owner, I suppose) that was Max's twin. They did not like each other.
This is way too much context for this conversation. Prepare to be underwhelmed.
Me: Max didn't like his evil twin.
Joe: I think he just wanted to say hello. The other dog was mean.
Me: That's SILLY.
Joe: Haha, what a SILLY.
Me: Heh. Let's eat some SANDWICHES.
Joe: Hahaha. Yum.
Me: I mean, who would turn down a sandwich? If someone passes you a sandwich, are you going to say no to a bite?
Joe: No. No, I would not.
Me: BTW, I'm talking about real sandwiches, not pot.
Joe: I know, Liz Lemon. I know.
Anyway. We celebrated Christmas with my dad's side of the family on Saturday and did chocolate martini shots and ate Happy Birthday, Jesus cake in honor of my Grandma. She would have been so proud.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Me: I read that Anne Hathaway and James McAvoy are in talks to play Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
Joe: Oh, yeah?
Joe: Is that bad?
Me: I just...I don't know if James McAvoy is right to play Mr. Darcy.
Me: I don't think he's tall enough.
Me: In my head, Mr. Darcy is really tall and I think James McAvoy is kind of short.
Joe: Haha, is he?
Me: Maybe he could stand on a box or something.
I think James McAvoy is totally dreamy but I don't know if he's Darcy dreamy. Mr. Bingley dreamy, maybe.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Two things happened this year that made me feel alive, two things that are opposite sides of the same coin, really. I got married in September, a day full of happiness and fun and love, and then my grandma died in October and there were days of sadness and family and, you guessed it, love again.
When I think about both events, spending time with friends in the days before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner, the day itself, and a month later, the last time I saw Grandma, the visitation, the funeral, the days of confusion, I tend to focus on specific moments, the most important flashing through my mind in quick succession.
My grandma couldn't come to the wedding, but she was present that day. The pastor surprised us all by taking a moment to remember her during the ceremony, and I concentrated on blinking away the tears that quickly formed in my eyes. I sat next to my great-aunt, my Grandma's twin sister, after the ceremony and she held my hand, told me how the pastor's words had touched her, and we sat for a quiet moment together.
The wedding ceremony itself was a blur. My feet hurt, my arm was tired from holding the bouquet, and my cheeks already ached from smiling and laughing. We were so happy, walking out into the church foyer after the ceremony, holding hands, hugging friends and family, taking a giddy ride to the reception.
The reception was...I don't even know. There was Twister and dancing and there were fake mustaches EVERYWHERE, there were cupcakes and soft pretzels, and a bottle of wine and Hogwarts being passed around on the dance floor. I danced with my family and old friends and new friends and did I mention Hogwarts? I walked arm in arm to the bar (naturally) with my dad to get a drink, grinned at my parents dancing with their best friends, delighted in seeing my sister dance with mine. If the wedding ceremony was a blur, the reception was even hazier, a crazy whirligig of fun, if you will (™ Xander Harris), a funhouse ride swirling us about in an uncontrollable dance, finally spitting us back out at my parents' house for more celebration.
There was a moment, though, at my parents' house, that my dad and his brother and sister and I stood in a huddle in the kitchen, arms around shoulders, friends and family eddying around us. I don't remember who said it or how it was said, but someone made reference to how much fun Grandma would have had and how much she'd been missed that day, and we stood there, all bittersweet smiles and aching hearts, until we were swept away by the general merriment of the night. We didn't know she would be gone in a month. How could we?
The days of her visitation and funeral passed in a similar blur, but with more tears. My eyes were swollen from a week of crying and still my body had more tears, my high-heeled feet hurt, my heart hurt, and all I wanted to do was hide. But, as always seems to happen, those times when you want to run and hide are exactly the times you can't, and so I went to the visitation, made small talk with almost-strangers and kept my eye on my family, gravitating to whoever might need me most. I went to the funeral, jumped up to read when it was my turn, and spent the rest of it with my eyes forward, tears streaming down my face, holding Joe's hand, my other arm around my sister's shoulders.
It was a sunny autumn day, brisk but not cold, as we gathered around the graveside to say our final goodbyes. I tried not to stumble in my heels. I smiled at my sister, put a rose on other family plots, hugged a crying cousin as we walked away from Grandma one last time. I felt too alive that day and all too human.
We went to my parents' house after both the wedding reception and the funeral, my entire family gathered, joyous to be together, missing those not there, and all of us grinning and crying and laughing, just grateful to be alive and loving each other.
Monday, December 06, 2010
This may not sound like any big whoop but Joe and I didn't go out to dinner at all this past weekend. AND. We didn't order pizza or Chinese or any other food deliverables, either. No. We cooked. Like, using real recipes and everything. This is weird because, in my mind, the weekend = going out to dinner. I don't know why. That's just how it is. So, in order to break the habit, we didn't go out to eat all weekend.
This is in an effort to eat healthier and, just as important, save some money. Plus, as it turns out, I actually enjoy cooking. I know. I KNOW. Who am I? I made banana bread on Saturday and then spent I don't know how long grilling and skinning (ew) red peppers to make a red pepper sauce to have with dinner (chicken) and just...what? But it was so good! And I got to use some wedding gifts, so win win win.
Yesterday, I finally dislodged the stand mixer from the pile of wedding gifts we haven't unpacked yet (because we have nowhere to put them and so they sit, unused and depressed, just like all the enchanted crap in the Beast's castle) and found a place for it in the kitchen. I flipped through the recipes that came with it and decided to try the brownies, mostly because I wanted an excuse to eat some brownie batter. This is kind of embarrassing, but I was totally intimidated by this mixer, like, I don't know, maybe because it's so heavy? Heavy machines tend to be the most dangerous (LOGIC) and that means the stand mixer is the kitchen appliance most likely to hurt me. Unless, like, the refrigerator falls on me or something WHICH COULD TOTALLY HAPPEN. The brownies were good (but not as good as these) and BONUS the mixer did not kill me or hurt me at all. At least not yet. I'm keeping my eye on it. Anyway. I think I'm going to try some chocolate chip cookies next. Yes, mostly to eat chocolate chip cookie dough, WHAT OF IT?
Friday, December 03, 2010
I’m cool dad, that’s my thang. I’m hip, I surf the web, I text. LOL: laugh out loud, OMG: oh my god, WTF: why the face?
(Right now, Doctor Who is keeping me from writing but I don't think that counts.)
This is easy, really, because the thing I do each day that doesn't contribute to my writing is, well, this. You're looking at it. Kind of, I mean, the internet is this huge, intangible thing, but if I'm completely honest with myself, it's really the thing that keeps me from doing all of the other productive things I could theoretically be doing if I wasn't busy trying to get my unread items in Google Reader down to a reasonable number.
I wouldn't change it for the world, though. It's given me friendships and a husband and countless hours of entertainment. If it weren't for the internet, I would never have tried NaNo and written two (sort of) novels. I would never have seen this. I would never have experienced the Thanksgiving Miracle.
I thought about trying to calculate the number of words I've spewed all over these here internets, but it seemed like a lot of math so...I didn't. But between Long Story Short and Wonder Killer and The Collective, not to mention various other long-forgotten, infrequently-updated projects, I'd put the number close to 89 GAJILLION.
Might my time have been better spent doing something else? Maybe. But this (and this and this) is what I did and what's did is done. And you know what? I wouldn't do a damn thing differently.
So, no, I guess. I can't eliminate it. And I think maybe that's OK.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Anyway. Here's the first prompt:
December 1: One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?(Author: Gwen Bell)
This year I lost a roommate of four years (sniff) but gained a roommate who I'll hopefully live with for way more than four years (hee). I got married and got a dog, only not in that order. I gained some amazing new family members and lost a beloved grandmother.
I've never been good with change and this year was chock-full of it. I think I've handled it all rather well, especially considering how much I pissed and moaned a few years ago over teeny baby changes like getting a new car. Is this growing up? (I wish there was a word for "shrugging shoulders." Meh? I don't know.)
Maybe it sounds weird to say that I'd like next year to be a challenge. I suppose it would be more accurate to say that I'd like to be challenged more next year, creatively and professionally and dare I say physically? I'd like to run more, even when I don't feel like it. I'd like to write more, especially when I don't feel like it. And I'd like to have a job that doesn't make me want to stab puppies on a regular basis. So if you'd like to give me one of those jobs, that'd be great. I mean, think of the puppies, you heartless bastards.