Well readers, it is technically Christmas, so Merry Christmas.
I have to be honest...my Christmas is not super merry. I cried all the way home today. I miss my dad so much and for some reason Christmas is hitting me so much harder than Thanksgiving did. His headstone is finally done, so I'm going to go and see his final resting place for the first time since he was buried in June. Not the most uplifting activity for Christmas. Our home feels so bare without his presence and without the Christmas decorations he'd always put up.
So instead of getting lost in the sadness, I'm trying to focus on good things that happened this past year. 2013 was a shit year, but there were shining moments. As I listed to my all-time favorite Christmas song, O Holy Night, I want to share five of the things I can look back on in 2013 and genuinely be happy.
1.) Marriages. This year, two of my favorite couples got married. The love these twosomes share is the kind of love I hope to have some day. Their weddings were celebrations of their love and their personalities. I can't remember going to two more fun weddings. They are wonderful people and to be able to share in the joy of one of the happiest days of their lives were nights I'll never forget.
2.) Babies. Y'all, this was a good year for babies. My friends had the most beautiful identical twin boys imaginable. They were born a day before my father died and I remember showing him the photos of the boys...he said they were perfect, and they are. Their picture made my dad smile one of his last smiles and I'll never forget that look on his face. They are perfect. But with a hot dad and an even hotter mom, why would I expect anything less? My other friends had an adorable little boy. I love seeing the pictures his mom posts about him. It is so obvious how loved he is. He is very lucky to have the mom and dad that he has. He will be raised as a proper UK fan! And lots of my friends are pregnant. A new life is something to always celebrate and I am so excited for my friends who are expecting a new addition to the family in 2014.
3.) Healing. The day my father passed away a friend of mine's dad was admitted to the very floor in St. Thomas where my dad was. I am so thankful his father was rehabilitated and healed. While I am sad the same can't be said for my father... and a little jealous, if I'm honest, I am so grateful this man has the chance to meet his grandson, who was born a few days ago. While I mourn my loss, I am glad a friend did not have to experience what I'm going through. I am also thankful for the healing of people I'm not close to. A friend on Facebook's daughter has been healed of cancer. Another friend beat breast cancer. 2013 was full of miracles for some people and I need to remember that although my miracle didn't happen, countless others did. And I should be happy for them.
4.) Opportunities. I have been blessed with great opportunities at work. What could be better than having the chance to move upward in an organization that you believe in and care about? Not much. My friends have always had great opportunities. Although I am extremely sad, my best friend in Nashville has an amazing job opportunity in California. She'll be leaving in two weeks, and I will miss her, but I could not be more excited for her new path.
5.) Friends. In 2013 I said goodbye to some friends, hello to others, and nice to see you again to a few. As you grow, friendships evolve, and I am so blessed to have the people in my life that I do.
Although I am sad, I am also thankful for the things I have been blessed with. Merry Christmas to you and yours, and may you all have at least five things to celebrate and be thankful for.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
The Art of Ignoring Christmas
Greetings and salutations readers!
This time last week I was on the deck of a cruiseship, sunning myself. This week, I'm in my childhood bed at home, still nursing a cold, and cramped because mom's dog, cat, and my cat have all decided to sleep in my single bed too. But, I sure do feel loved!
This year, my mom has decided to ignore Christmas. We're not putting up a tree, we're not having a traditional special meal, and gifts we give eachother are not to be wrapped in holiday wrapping paper. I could argue, but I know when to pick my battles, and this is not one I am going to win.
When she first told me at Thanksgiving that we were basically ignoring Christmas, I was fine with it. Holidays have never been large productions at my house because I have such a small family. But now that I'm home for a day or so, this close to Christmas, and there is no sign of holiday cheer anywhere at the Stergas residence, I'm beginning to regret going along with her decision. I want to go into our living room and break out my old Christmas carols piano book, but I'm afraid it will make mom upset. I miss having a tree with our family ornaments to read next to at night. I miss the joy that usually comes with the holiday season.
I've tried to do Christmas my own way this year. I've sought out ways I can help families who actually do want a Christmas for their children, they just may not have the means to do it this year. I'm really excited for my friends' Booze Exchange party on Friday night, because that's going to be the extent of my Christmas cheer this year.
Instead of dwelling on all the things I'm going to miss about Christmas, let me tell you all about four of my most favorite Christmas moments.
1.) The trampoline. Okay, so at a certain age, most children stop believing in Santa Claus, or at least become skeptical of the jolly old man who supposedly comes into homes through chimneys, even if your house does not have a chimney. Supposedly reindeer dust disables security systems, or so I was told as a wee one. One year in particular, I thought I had this all figured out. I'd go to bed, mom and dad would assemble all of the Barbie accessories I'd asked for, throw in a few clothing items I immediately passed over, and filled my six foot (yes, six foot) stocking. I was an only child. What can I say? So I woke up on Christmas morning and played along with the whole 'Santa' bit. Because if you stop believing in him, he stops coming, and I wanted to most presents I could possibly get. Greedy, yes...but don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same. I read my letter from Santa in which he says what a good girl I had been this year, trying to speed through the letter so I could get down to business and assess how I'd made out this year. I get to the last line and it says 'look in the backyard.' I was perplexed as to what could be there. I saw the Barbie jeep I'd requested in the corner, so it's not like it was sitting outside. Maybe there is an injured reindeer I need to nurse back to health back there? I ran into the den, looked outside, and saw.... A TRAMPOLINE!!!!!!!!!!!! OHMYGOSHHOWDIDMYPARENTSSNEAKTHATBACKTHERE?!??!?!?!
Needless to say, Santa was obviously real. At least, for that Christmas.
2.) The year I became an adult. Don't worry male readers, this has nothing to do with any processes the female body goes through. It deals with the point in my life in which my six foot long stocking could no longer be stuffed with Barbies and video games. Determined to still fill the giant sock with presents, my father had the brilliant idea to fill it with printer paper packets because I was typing so many papers for school. At that point I thanked my parents for their valiant efforts over the years to fill my stocking, but I was relieving them of their duty. Getting printer paper is probably the 2000 equivalent of coal.
3.) The Jeep. One year I got a Hot Wheels jeep to drive around in and I knew the world was mine for the taking. I would cruise around my backyard for hours, chasing Scout, our dog, and leaning back in the driver's seat like I was large and in charge. I'd wear sunglasses even in the winter and I would pack myself a lunch (usually of dunkaroos and gushers) for the road, in case my journeys ever took me out of my backyard. Life was glorious, until two jerks stole my beloved Jeep and trashed it. Luckily, said jerks were not very smart and trashed it in one of their backyards and left evidence. Their mothers made them save up enough allowance to buy me a new one and present it to me, along with a letter of apology. I said I forgave them (to much oohing and ahhing about how cute I was and how sweet) but I totally lied. I did not forgive, nor did I forget.
4.) The last Christmas I had with my grandmother. Christmas of 1993 was probably the last Christmas I was truly naïve of how precious life is. Until that point I had never experienced loss, and it didn't dawn on me that people wouldn't be around for forever. We went to my grandparents house, had a meal, played with the awesome toy train my grandfather set up for me each year, and had a great time laughing and loving eachother. The next day at church we found out my grandmother, Mama Helen (or Gree, as I usually called her), had suffered a heart attack and was in the hospital. She would later pass away in February of 1994. That Christmas was the last time I felt like I had a whole family. Since that Christmas, I've lost my great grandmother, my grandfather and my dad, and my family has dwindled to two.
One thing reflecting on past Christmases has done is made me realize what I want in my future family. I hope to marry someone one day that comes from a larger family so I can experience the big family affairs. Someone with brothers and sisters so my children can have cousins their own age to play and cause mischief with. I hope that my future family will have enough people to survive losses but still keep the family gatherings a tradition. Obviously I'm in no rush to get married since I am almost 29 and have been single for a very long time, but one day I'll be ready. I am excited for the day when I have children of my own and can find ways to make Christmas a time of wonder for them. I'm not sure about this Elf on a Shelf stuff because personally, I think a voyeur elf is pretty darn creepy, but I'm sure I'll change my viewpoint if it makes my little ones smile.
If I don't write anymore before Christmas, enjoy your holidays and being with your families. May you all be blessed with good fortune in 2014. Be safe, be kind, and most of all, be happy.
This time last week I was on the deck of a cruiseship, sunning myself. This week, I'm in my childhood bed at home, still nursing a cold, and cramped because mom's dog, cat, and my cat have all decided to sleep in my single bed too. But, I sure do feel loved!
This year, my mom has decided to ignore Christmas. We're not putting up a tree, we're not having a traditional special meal, and gifts we give eachother are not to be wrapped in holiday wrapping paper. I could argue, but I know when to pick my battles, and this is not one I am going to win.
When she first told me at Thanksgiving that we were basically ignoring Christmas, I was fine with it. Holidays have never been large productions at my house because I have such a small family. But now that I'm home for a day or so, this close to Christmas, and there is no sign of holiday cheer anywhere at the Stergas residence, I'm beginning to regret going along with her decision. I want to go into our living room and break out my old Christmas carols piano book, but I'm afraid it will make mom upset. I miss having a tree with our family ornaments to read next to at night. I miss the joy that usually comes with the holiday season.
I've tried to do Christmas my own way this year. I've sought out ways I can help families who actually do want a Christmas for their children, they just may not have the means to do it this year. I'm really excited for my friends' Booze Exchange party on Friday night, because that's going to be the extent of my Christmas cheer this year.
Instead of dwelling on all the things I'm going to miss about Christmas, let me tell you all about four of my most favorite Christmas moments.
1.) The trampoline. Okay, so at a certain age, most children stop believing in Santa Claus, or at least become skeptical of the jolly old man who supposedly comes into homes through chimneys, even if your house does not have a chimney. Supposedly reindeer dust disables security systems, or so I was told as a wee one. One year in particular, I thought I had this all figured out. I'd go to bed, mom and dad would assemble all of the Barbie accessories I'd asked for, throw in a few clothing items I immediately passed over, and filled my six foot (yes, six foot) stocking. I was an only child. What can I say? So I woke up on Christmas morning and played along with the whole 'Santa' bit. Because if you stop believing in him, he stops coming, and I wanted to most presents I could possibly get. Greedy, yes...but don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same. I read my letter from Santa in which he says what a good girl I had been this year, trying to speed through the letter so I could get down to business and assess how I'd made out this year. I get to the last line and it says 'look in the backyard.' I was perplexed as to what could be there. I saw the Barbie jeep I'd requested in the corner, so it's not like it was sitting outside. Maybe there is an injured reindeer I need to nurse back to health back there? I ran into the den, looked outside, and saw.... A TRAMPOLINE!!!!!!!!!!!! OHMYGOSHHOWDIDMYPARENTSSNEAKTHATBACKTHERE?!??!?!?!
Needless to say, Santa was obviously real. At least, for that Christmas.
2.) The year I became an adult. Don't worry male readers, this has nothing to do with any processes the female body goes through. It deals with the point in my life in which my six foot long stocking could no longer be stuffed with Barbies and video games. Determined to still fill the giant sock with presents, my father had the brilliant idea to fill it with printer paper packets because I was typing so many papers for school. At that point I thanked my parents for their valiant efforts over the years to fill my stocking, but I was relieving them of their duty. Getting printer paper is probably the 2000 equivalent of coal.
3.) The Jeep. One year I got a Hot Wheels jeep to drive around in and I knew the world was mine for the taking. I would cruise around my backyard for hours, chasing Scout, our dog, and leaning back in the driver's seat like I was large and in charge. I'd wear sunglasses even in the winter and I would pack myself a lunch (usually of dunkaroos and gushers) for the road, in case my journeys ever took me out of my backyard. Life was glorious, until two jerks stole my beloved Jeep and trashed it. Luckily, said jerks were not very smart and trashed it in one of their backyards and left evidence. Their mothers made them save up enough allowance to buy me a new one and present it to me, along with a letter of apology. I said I forgave them (to much oohing and ahhing about how cute I was and how sweet) but I totally lied. I did not forgive, nor did I forget.
4.) The last Christmas I had with my grandmother. Christmas of 1993 was probably the last Christmas I was truly naïve of how precious life is. Until that point I had never experienced loss, and it didn't dawn on me that people wouldn't be around for forever. We went to my grandparents house, had a meal, played with the awesome toy train my grandfather set up for me each year, and had a great time laughing and loving eachother. The next day at church we found out my grandmother, Mama Helen (or Gree, as I usually called her), had suffered a heart attack and was in the hospital. She would later pass away in February of 1994. That Christmas was the last time I felt like I had a whole family. Since that Christmas, I've lost my great grandmother, my grandfather and my dad, and my family has dwindled to two.
One thing reflecting on past Christmases has done is made me realize what I want in my future family. I hope to marry someone one day that comes from a larger family so I can experience the big family affairs. Someone with brothers and sisters so my children can have cousins their own age to play and cause mischief with. I hope that my future family will have enough people to survive losses but still keep the family gatherings a tradition. Obviously I'm in no rush to get married since I am almost 29 and have been single for a very long time, but one day I'll be ready. I am excited for the day when I have children of my own and can find ways to make Christmas a time of wonder for them. I'm not sure about this Elf on a Shelf stuff because personally, I think a voyeur elf is pretty darn creepy, but I'm sure I'll change my viewpoint if it makes my little ones smile.
If I don't write anymore before Christmas, enjoy your holidays and being with your families. May you all be blessed with good fortune in 2014. Be safe, be kind, and most of all, be happy.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
The Art of Loving to Cook
Hello readers!
I'm trying to forget the fact that I was on a cruise ship two days ago in 80 degree weather and now I'm sitting on my living room floor in pajama pants (pirate themed, though!), a long sleeve shirt and a sweater and I'm still cold. The fact that I have a fever probably doesn't help. It's time for the Anna-just-went-on-vacation-so-naturally-her-body-hates-her annual illness. This post is sponsored by Dayquil and Nyquil, which both knock my on my ass, as my five friends I cruised with saw when I was passed out on the boat most of Sunday and had not had a single thing to drink. But, I digress.
We had some amazing food on our trip to Mexico. We started and ended the trip in New Orleans where, obviously, good food is everywhere. The food on the ship was good for the most part, and even if you hated what you ordered, you could order like four other things in its place until you found something you liked. In Mexico I had the best shrimp nachos and guacamole of my life. It was a good week for food.
But even though I enjoyed all of the food, I missed cooking. I have always liked to cook, but in the past couple of years, it has really become a passion of mine. I frequently spend all of Sunday afternoons in my kitchen, prepping and making my meals for the week, since I know I'm not going to have a lot of time for cooking after work. It's peaceful to me. I love the sounds of roasting vegetables in the oven and the crackling of hot oil in the skillet before you put your ingredients in. I like chopping vegetables...when I'm angry or frustrated at something it's a great way to expend energy and do something productive. I don't so much care about the eating part though, which is weird. Most of the time after I have spent hours cooking, I don't even want to eat anything I made and end up eating a sandwich for dinner. I love the prep more. But my favorite thing about cooking is watching other people enjoy my food. I'm a people pleaser by nature, but few things make me happier than cooking a delicious meal for friends and being with them while they enjoy it. I love planning menus for full meals or even just a tailgate dish. I seriously spend hours combing through recipes, tweaking them to make them my own, and counting down till I can make them. Living alone, I don't get the opportunity to cook for others as much as I'd like. I plan on changing this in 2014. I want to have friends over for dinner at least twice a month. I want to plan elaborate meals I'd never cook just for me (even though I have done that on occasion) and enjoy time with the people that mean the most to me.
People often ask me what are my favorite things to cook. I have listed my top 6 go-tos below. Let me know if you want the specific recipes, or if you want to come over and have me cook them for you! Seriously, I would be so excited if people wanted to invite themselves over!
1.) Scallops. I have mentioned before on this blog how much I love scallops, but they are my absolute favorite. They are delicious and you can do so many things with them. They seem very fancy, but require very little attention: two minutes on each side and they are done and ready to be consumed. Sometimes I'll just use salt & pepper and some lemon juice. Lovely. Other times I'll make a saffron sauce to serve with them. I was playing around in the kitchen one day and ended up creating a champagne cream sauce I served over pasta with scallops that I need to figure out how to make again. I really need to write things down more!
2.) Salmon. Seafood is my favorite, so I cook a lot of fish. I know it's more expensive than chicken, but it's what I like, so it's what I make. A simple rub of brown sugar and Dijon mustard is a great, quick, go-to recipe for work nights. Also, mixing grainy mustard and sour cream makes a great topping for your salmon. Rosemary is a great spice to use too, if you're looking for something different than the normal dill associated with salmon. Seriously, there are so many options for this yummy fish, and it's super good for you!
3.) Roasted vegetables. I make pans of roasted vegetables every week. Broccoli with lemon, asparagus, balsamic green beans & mushrooms, sriracha & honey brussel sprouts...YUM. Roasting is super easy, keeps the nutrients in the vegetables, and give the outside a crunch while cooking the inside to a comfort food temperature. I haven't found anything that I don't like to roast yet! Maybe I'll try eggplant next since I really want to like it, but haven't found a recipe I like yet.
4.) Homemade pasta. Yes, it's a lot of work. Yes, if you don't do certain things right you'll have a glob of basically playdough on your table. But, if you do it right, there are few things better. One of my goals in life is to be able to recreate my dad's lasagna that he would spend all day making. My mom won't be my guinea pig because she says it brings back hard memories, but I'm taking volunteers!
5.) Pad thai. I make the best pad thai I've ever had. I'm sorry, it's how I feel. There's a place downtown with good pad thai and of course, the Smiling Elephant is delicious, but I really feel like mine is just as good, if not better, and it's incredibly easy to make. I have trouble ordering it while I'm out, because it is so simple to make in my kitchen.
6.) Meatloaf. We were talking about this the other day in New Orleans: there are few ways to make meatloaf look appetizing. I mean, who hears the word 'loaf' and is like, man, that shit is going to be fancy?!?! But I actually really like it, and enjoy making it something people want to eat. I make buffalo chicken meatloaf with large chunks of bleu cheese and frank's red hot sauce. I also make a really good turkey and cranberry meatloaf that is really hearty and a great winter meal. I think I like making meatloaf so much because you can just thrown a lot of random ingredients in a bowl, mix together, and cook it. Chances are, if you know the ingredients you're putting in the bowl mix well, you'll have a tasty dinner.
I'm serious friends, let me know if you want to come over for dinner. I look forward to having many of you at my place soon for great food and some laughs!
I'm trying to forget the fact that I was on a cruise ship two days ago in 80 degree weather and now I'm sitting on my living room floor in pajama pants (pirate themed, though!), a long sleeve shirt and a sweater and I'm still cold. The fact that I have a fever probably doesn't help. It's time for the Anna-just-went-on-vacation-so-naturally-her-body-hates-her annual illness. This post is sponsored by Dayquil and Nyquil, which both knock my on my ass, as my five friends I cruised with saw when I was passed out on the boat most of Sunday and had not had a single thing to drink. But, I digress.
We had some amazing food on our trip to Mexico. We started and ended the trip in New Orleans where, obviously, good food is everywhere. The food on the ship was good for the most part, and even if you hated what you ordered, you could order like four other things in its place until you found something you liked. In Mexico I had the best shrimp nachos and guacamole of my life. It was a good week for food.
But even though I enjoyed all of the food, I missed cooking. I have always liked to cook, but in the past couple of years, it has really become a passion of mine. I frequently spend all of Sunday afternoons in my kitchen, prepping and making my meals for the week, since I know I'm not going to have a lot of time for cooking after work. It's peaceful to me. I love the sounds of roasting vegetables in the oven and the crackling of hot oil in the skillet before you put your ingredients in. I like chopping vegetables...when I'm angry or frustrated at something it's a great way to expend energy and do something productive. I don't so much care about the eating part though, which is weird. Most of the time after I have spent hours cooking, I don't even want to eat anything I made and end up eating a sandwich for dinner. I love the prep more. But my favorite thing about cooking is watching other people enjoy my food. I'm a people pleaser by nature, but few things make me happier than cooking a delicious meal for friends and being with them while they enjoy it. I love planning menus for full meals or even just a tailgate dish. I seriously spend hours combing through recipes, tweaking them to make them my own, and counting down till I can make them. Living alone, I don't get the opportunity to cook for others as much as I'd like. I plan on changing this in 2014. I want to have friends over for dinner at least twice a month. I want to plan elaborate meals I'd never cook just for me (even though I have done that on occasion) and enjoy time with the people that mean the most to me.
People often ask me what are my favorite things to cook. I have listed my top 6 go-tos below. Let me know if you want the specific recipes, or if you want to come over and have me cook them for you! Seriously, I would be so excited if people wanted to invite themselves over!
1.) Scallops. I have mentioned before on this blog how much I love scallops, but they are my absolute favorite. They are delicious and you can do so many things with them. They seem very fancy, but require very little attention: two minutes on each side and they are done and ready to be consumed. Sometimes I'll just use salt & pepper and some lemon juice. Lovely. Other times I'll make a saffron sauce to serve with them. I was playing around in the kitchen one day and ended up creating a champagne cream sauce I served over pasta with scallops that I need to figure out how to make again. I really need to write things down more!
2.) Salmon. Seafood is my favorite, so I cook a lot of fish. I know it's more expensive than chicken, but it's what I like, so it's what I make. A simple rub of brown sugar and Dijon mustard is a great, quick, go-to recipe for work nights. Also, mixing grainy mustard and sour cream makes a great topping for your salmon. Rosemary is a great spice to use too, if you're looking for something different than the normal dill associated with salmon. Seriously, there are so many options for this yummy fish, and it's super good for you!
3.) Roasted vegetables. I make pans of roasted vegetables every week. Broccoli with lemon, asparagus, balsamic green beans & mushrooms, sriracha & honey brussel sprouts...YUM. Roasting is super easy, keeps the nutrients in the vegetables, and give the outside a crunch while cooking the inside to a comfort food temperature. I haven't found anything that I don't like to roast yet! Maybe I'll try eggplant next since I really want to like it, but haven't found a recipe I like yet.
4.) Homemade pasta. Yes, it's a lot of work. Yes, if you don't do certain things right you'll have a glob of basically playdough on your table. But, if you do it right, there are few things better. One of my goals in life is to be able to recreate my dad's lasagna that he would spend all day making. My mom won't be my guinea pig because she says it brings back hard memories, but I'm taking volunteers!
5.) Pad thai. I make the best pad thai I've ever had. I'm sorry, it's how I feel. There's a place downtown with good pad thai and of course, the Smiling Elephant is delicious, but I really feel like mine is just as good, if not better, and it's incredibly easy to make. I have trouble ordering it while I'm out, because it is so simple to make in my kitchen.
6.) Meatloaf. We were talking about this the other day in New Orleans: there are few ways to make meatloaf look appetizing. I mean, who hears the word 'loaf' and is like, man, that shit is going to be fancy?!?! But I actually really like it, and enjoy making it something people want to eat. I make buffalo chicken meatloaf with large chunks of bleu cheese and frank's red hot sauce. I also make a really good turkey and cranberry meatloaf that is really hearty and a great winter meal. I think I like making meatloaf so much because you can just thrown a lot of random ingredients in a bowl, mix together, and cook it. Chances are, if you know the ingredients you're putting in the bowl mix well, you'll have a tasty dinner.
I'm serious friends, let me know if you want to come over for dinner. I look forward to having many of you at my place soon for great food and some laughs!
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
An Empty Spot at the Table
I swear, not every blog entry I write from now on will have something to do with my dad. But, it's on my heart, so it's coming out through my words.
This Thanksgiving, there will be a void at the Thanksgiving table. This void will be added to the existing ones which once held places for my great grandmother, grandfather, and grandmother. They say one is the loneliest number, but this year, two seems pretty damn lonely to me.
When my mom asked what I wanted to do for Thanksgiving this year, I immediately had an idea. In the past we'd always done the traditional turkey, dressing, cranberry crap, green bean casserole, rolls, and pie that seem to make up the standard Thanksgiving fare. Having mom slave away over a turkey for just two people seemed silly. I told her I wanted to have Italian food and she said she didn't know how to make it because she never learned how to...dad always cooked it.
And boy, did he.
My daddy was an amazing cook. He could make pasta from scratch and I don't think I'll ever taste anything as good as his lasagna. He would make traditional Italian pastries for special occasions. He'd give out his creations to his friends at Christmas...I always thought it was hilarious he'd give cakes to his favorite spin instructors at the YMCA. Cooking is one thing I got from him, although mom is a good cook too. But she doesn't have the love for it that daddy and I had/have.
So this year, I'm cooking my first holiday meal. I'm making a traditional Italian meal in honor of dad. I'm going to attempt to make the lemon bars he'd always make for mom's birthday, but since the recipe was only in his head, that one will be tricky. But while I'm cooking tomorrow, I'm going to pretend that dad is there watching me and helping me make the pasta dough. I'm going to pretend that he'll do the dishes and complain that I'm not helping. I'm going to pretend that after our meal we'll return to the living room and get trapped watching one of those silly Hallmark holiday movies he loved so much. I'm going to pretend he's sitting in his chair, talking to Cooper the cat, acting like he can't stand the cat but he secretly loves him. I'm going to pretend that before I go to bed, I'll hug him goodnight and tell him I love him.
This will be the first major holiday without dad. Yesterday was five months to the day that he died. It's going to be a hard day. Mom isn't taking it well. There will be many tears. But alongside the tears, there will be memories. Memories of the daddy who would spend hours playing Barbies with me and taking me to pottery lessons in the summer while listening to Oak Ridge Boys tapes. Memories of the man who survived so much in his life but never complained...except about little things like papercuts. Memories of the times I made him proud and I thought his face was going to crack from smiling so wide. Memories of the times I made him laugh, a deep laugh from the belly...most of those came from making fun of my mother's odd habits in some ways. And memories of the last time I told him I loved him.
Treasure your loved ones this Thanksgiving, whether they be the family you were born with or the family you accumulated along the way. Make memories, even if they seem silly or small. Laugh together and love. Be thankful for one another.
I know I am eternally thankful for the 28 years, 132 days, 8 hours, and 2 minutes I got to spend with my daddy.
This Thanksgiving, there will be a void at the Thanksgiving table. This void will be added to the existing ones which once held places for my great grandmother, grandfather, and grandmother. They say one is the loneliest number, but this year, two seems pretty damn lonely to me.
When my mom asked what I wanted to do for Thanksgiving this year, I immediately had an idea. In the past we'd always done the traditional turkey, dressing, cranberry crap, green bean casserole, rolls, and pie that seem to make up the standard Thanksgiving fare. Having mom slave away over a turkey for just two people seemed silly. I told her I wanted to have Italian food and she said she didn't know how to make it because she never learned how to...dad always cooked it.
And boy, did he.
My daddy was an amazing cook. He could make pasta from scratch and I don't think I'll ever taste anything as good as his lasagna. He would make traditional Italian pastries for special occasions. He'd give out his creations to his friends at Christmas...I always thought it was hilarious he'd give cakes to his favorite spin instructors at the YMCA. Cooking is one thing I got from him, although mom is a good cook too. But she doesn't have the love for it that daddy and I had/have.
So this year, I'm cooking my first holiday meal. I'm making a traditional Italian meal in honor of dad. I'm going to attempt to make the lemon bars he'd always make for mom's birthday, but since the recipe was only in his head, that one will be tricky. But while I'm cooking tomorrow, I'm going to pretend that dad is there watching me and helping me make the pasta dough. I'm going to pretend that he'll do the dishes and complain that I'm not helping. I'm going to pretend that after our meal we'll return to the living room and get trapped watching one of those silly Hallmark holiday movies he loved so much. I'm going to pretend he's sitting in his chair, talking to Cooper the cat, acting like he can't stand the cat but he secretly loves him. I'm going to pretend that before I go to bed, I'll hug him goodnight and tell him I love him.
This will be the first major holiday without dad. Yesterday was five months to the day that he died. It's going to be a hard day. Mom isn't taking it well. There will be many tears. But alongside the tears, there will be memories. Memories of the daddy who would spend hours playing Barbies with me and taking me to pottery lessons in the summer while listening to Oak Ridge Boys tapes. Memories of the man who survived so much in his life but never complained...except about little things like papercuts. Memories of the times I made him proud and I thought his face was going to crack from smiling so wide. Memories of the times I made him laugh, a deep laugh from the belly...most of those came from making fun of my mother's odd habits in some ways. And memories of the last time I told him I loved him.
Treasure your loved ones this Thanksgiving, whether they be the family you were born with or the family you accumulated along the way. Make memories, even if they seem silly or small. Laugh together and love. Be thankful for one another.
I know I am eternally thankful for the 28 years, 132 days, 8 hours, and 2 minutes I got to spend with my daddy.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
A Letter To My Awful Downstairs Neighbor On The Day I Move Out
Greetings readers! Or, reader...
Yes, it's been a long time. I know. I wish I could say I was out saving the whales or walking little old ladies across the street, but really, I've just been lazy. Work was really insane for a while and when I came home at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was watch Modern Family re-runs on TNT and eat roasted mushrooms and green beans, apparently my new favorite thing. Coating in balsamic vinegar and olive oil and roasting for 35 minutes makes pretty much any vegetable a delightful treat.
So what's new since I last wrote?
Well, I'm buying a townhouse. I haven't found it yet, but I'm buying one. Instead of moving apartments when my lease is up, I am going to put down roots and be a big girl and buy something. I had hoped to move to Chicago in the near future, but for a lot of reasons, I just don't see that happening. I'm all mom has left and I don't want to be that far away from her in case something happens. But, things are also going extremely well in my career, and I don't want to give that up to start over somewhere else. My boss is fantastic and gives me lots of great opportunities to grow and learn new skills. Plus, I'm starting a year long leadership program next month that I'm really excited about.
Mainly, I'm excited to have an end date to living in my apartment with the world's loudest man upstairs. I have (frequently) dreamed about writing him a nasty-gram and leaving it on his door on my last day. It would go a little something like this:
Dear Asshole in 1408
It is with extreme pleasure that I bid you adieu, sir. For the past nine months I have listened to you slam your sliding glass door, stomp as loud as an elephant every time you move (which is constantly...do you wear a pedometer or something? Do you have goals as to how many steps you walk each day?), yell at your ex-wife over the phone, scream at your girlfriend in person (wow sir, you sure do know how to treat the ladies), and yell to whoever will listen to you on the phone about how you're trying to get a job and you're not a deadbeat. Well, I kind of think you are, since I've caught you sleeping in your car in the middle of the day on more than one occassion, but that is neither here nor there.
I hope your next downstairs neighbor brings an arsenal of fans and noise machines to drown out your constant blundering around at 2:47 in the morning. I hope they enjoy the plethora (I bet you don't know what that word means) of decorative cigarette butts you so kindly drop onto my porch on a daily basis. And I really hope they enjoy listening to you throw items and break them, only to immediately vaccum them up. At least you're tidy. I'd hate if you cut your foot on a piece of ceramic lamp you demolished during one of your stomping tirades. With as hard as your feet land, the piece of lamp would get jammed up practically to your ankle.
So good luck to you in finding a job, being nicer to your poor girlfriend (no idea why she puts up with you...maybe you make a mean lasagna?) and working toward not being a total dick. Let me know how that works out for you.
Or actually...don't. Because I'm moving out and I never have to see or hear you again.
Best,
Your newly-liberated former neighbor in 1404
Yes, it's been a long time. I know. I wish I could say I was out saving the whales or walking little old ladies across the street, but really, I've just been lazy. Work was really insane for a while and when I came home at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was watch Modern Family re-runs on TNT and eat roasted mushrooms and green beans, apparently my new favorite thing. Coating in balsamic vinegar and olive oil and roasting for 35 minutes makes pretty much any vegetable a delightful treat.
So what's new since I last wrote?
Well, I'm buying a townhouse. I haven't found it yet, but I'm buying one. Instead of moving apartments when my lease is up, I am going to put down roots and be a big girl and buy something. I had hoped to move to Chicago in the near future, but for a lot of reasons, I just don't see that happening. I'm all mom has left and I don't want to be that far away from her in case something happens. But, things are also going extremely well in my career, and I don't want to give that up to start over somewhere else. My boss is fantastic and gives me lots of great opportunities to grow and learn new skills. Plus, I'm starting a year long leadership program next month that I'm really excited about.
Mainly, I'm excited to have an end date to living in my apartment with the world's loudest man upstairs. I have (frequently) dreamed about writing him a nasty-gram and leaving it on his door on my last day. It would go a little something like this:
Dear Asshole in 1408
It is with extreme pleasure that I bid you adieu, sir. For the past nine months I have listened to you slam your sliding glass door, stomp as loud as an elephant every time you move (which is constantly...do you wear a pedometer or something? Do you have goals as to how many steps you walk each day?), yell at your ex-wife over the phone, scream at your girlfriend in person (wow sir, you sure do know how to treat the ladies), and yell to whoever will listen to you on the phone about how you're trying to get a job and you're not a deadbeat. Well, I kind of think you are, since I've caught you sleeping in your car in the middle of the day on more than one occassion, but that is neither here nor there.
I hope your next downstairs neighbor brings an arsenal of fans and noise machines to drown out your constant blundering around at 2:47 in the morning. I hope they enjoy the plethora (I bet you don't know what that word means) of decorative cigarette butts you so kindly drop onto my porch on a daily basis. And I really hope they enjoy listening to you throw items and break them, only to immediately vaccum them up. At least you're tidy. I'd hate if you cut your foot on a piece of ceramic lamp you demolished during one of your stomping tirades. With as hard as your feet land, the piece of lamp would get jammed up practically to your ankle.
So good luck to you in finding a job, being nicer to your poor girlfriend (no idea why she puts up with you...maybe you make a mean lasagna?) and working toward not being a total dick. Let me know how that works out for you.
Or actually...don't. Because I'm moving out and I never have to see or hear you again.
Best,
Your newly-liberated former neighbor in 1404
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
The Art of Writer's Block
Writing has been tough the past couple of months. I've already written two pretty depressing entries but don't worry...this is not a third. Or at least, I set out at 1:00 a.m. this morning to make it cheery. We'll see how things go.
I've just been uninspired lately. I haven't really had any major adventures (other than Kroger on Senior Tuesday), haven't passed any major milestones (I guess I did turn 28 & 1/2) and haven't made any amazing discoveries (other than I could possibly live on hot & sour soup for the rest of my life if I needed to because it is my new FAVORITE. And we all know how I hate all-caps.)
I've started and scrapped several blog entries over the past few weeks. Below is a comprehensive list (maybe not completely comprehensive...I get the distinct feeling I started a blog entry in a wine haze after too many glasses of Lonely Cow after a dinner) but it's the best you're going to get.
Live-Blogging the MTV movie awards: At this point, why bother posting? You're over it, I'm over it, and the only thing that isn't over it is Miley Cyrus's tongue. One of the best parts of the show was the Beyonce Pepsi commercial (yes, a repeat, I know. The show was that bad.), the NSYNC reunion was way too brief but I don't think 4/5's of the guys could have gone on much longer, I'm even more excited to see JT in November than I already was, and I think the show was in Brooklyn but I'm not positive because they didn't say where it was located enough. Done. You're welcome for that summary.
My Thoughts On the Current State of Traffic in Nashville: Spoiler alert - it's turrible. I think the source of my ire comes from the fact that school has started back up, thus adding 20 minutes to my commute each morning. I did get some satisfaction this morning when a motorcycle cop pulled over the jackass who cut from the back of the right lane waiting to merge on I-40 all the way to the left lane in front of me, forcing me to let her in or rear end her. He looked very mad (he was on the shoulder of the exit ramp) and waived her over angrily. I can't imagine that he could do anything but scold her and shake his finger at her, but it did give me some sort of sense of justice in the world. Bravo, cop. Bravo.
Apparently I'm Really Good At Coming Up With Insults: My co-worker/friend/sorority sister has brought out this new-found talent within me. She'll usually ask me, "Okay, so this person isn't quite a (really bad name) but (mediocre bad name) doesn't do him/her justice. What's in between?" She's asked me this two times and both times I have come up with a satisfactory answer. I won't write on here what I say because I know once it's on the interwebs it never goes away, and I don't want my future litter of children to find this on their holographic 3D super speed computers and ask why mommy was allowed to say bad things if they weren't. My biggest fear is that my kid's first word will be 'fuck.' Who am I kidding...I'll laugh. Let's be honest. But I'll try to do so out of earshot of my children. And I'll probably blame it on their daddy.
How Excited I Am To Watch Sports I Care About Again: But really, who isn't excited that football is back and basketball is vastly approaching? This would be completely uninteresting and therefore, I did not get past the first sentence.
The Art of Personal Space: I have a big thing about personal space. I live in a very small bubble and not everyone is invited to invade said bubble. I can't stand hover-ers at work, who will stand in front of you until acknowledged, even if you're on the phone and I can't stand to be hugged unless I know you and at least one dirty secret about you. But this is turning into a negative entry and I'm trying not to do that. Remember, 'Choose Joy' and all that...I got it tattooed on my body for a reason...listen to your tattoo!
Thos are the few I can remember and could write something witty about. Lots of entries didn't even make it past the first line. I hope you enjoyed my (attempted) return at my normal style of blogging. Hopefully I'll have more of my wisdom (opinions) to contribute to the world soon.
Love & Light
I've just been uninspired lately. I haven't really had any major adventures (other than Kroger on Senior Tuesday), haven't passed any major milestones (I guess I did turn 28 & 1/2) and haven't made any amazing discoveries (other than I could possibly live on hot & sour soup for the rest of my life if I needed to because it is my new FAVORITE. And we all know how I hate all-caps.)
I've started and scrapped several blog entries over the past few weeks. Below is a comprehensive list (maybe not completely comprehensive...I get the distinct feeling I started a blog entry in a wine haze after too many glasses of Lonely Cow after a dinner) but it's the best you're going to get.
Live-Blogging the MTV movie awards: At this point, why bother posting? You're over it, I'm over it, and the only thing that isn't over it is Miley Cyrus's tongue. One of the best parts of the show was the Beyonce Pepsi commercial (yes, a repeat, I know. The show was that bad.), the NSYNC reunion was way too brief but I don't think 4/5's of the guys could have gone on much longer, I'm even more excited to see JT in November than I already was, and I think the show was in Brooklyn but I'm not positive because they didn't say where it was located enough. Done. You're welcome for that summary.
My Thoughts On the Current State of Traffic in Nashville: Spoiler alert - it's turrible. I think the source of my ire comes from the fact that school has started back up, thus adding 20 minutes to my commute each morning. I did get some satisfaction this morning when a motorcycle cop pulled over the jackass who cut from the back of the right lane waiting to merge on I-40 all the way to the left lane in front of me, forcing me to let her in or rear end her. He looked very mad (he was on the shoulder of the exit ramp) and waived her over angrily. I can't imagine that he could do anything but scold her and shake his finger at her, but it did give me some sort of sense of justice in the world. Bravo, cop. Bravo.
Apparently I'm Really Good At Coming Up With Insults: My co-worker/friend/sorority sister has brought out this new-found talent within me. She'll usually ask me, "Okay, so this person isn't quite a (really bad name) but (mediocre bad name) doesn't do him/her justice. What's in between?" She's asked me this two times and both times I have come up with a satisfactory answer. I won't write on here what I say because I know once it's on the interwebs it never goes away, and I don't want my future litter of children to find this on their holographic 3D super speed computers and ask why mommy was allowed to say bad things if they weren't. My biggest fear is that my kid's first word will be 'fuck.' Who am I kidding...I'll laugh. Let's be honest. But I'll try to do so out of earshot of my children. And I'll probably blame it on their daddy.
How Excited I Am To Watch Sports I Care About Again: But really, who isn't excited that football is back and basketball is vastly approaching? This would be completely uninteresting and therefore, I did not get past the first sentence.
The Art of Personal Space: I have a big thing about personal space. I live in a very small bubble and not everyone is invited to invade said bubble. I can't stand hover-ers at work, who will stand in front of you until acknowledged, even if you're on the phone and I can't stand to be hugged unless I know you and at least one dirty secret about you. But this is turning into a negative entry and I'm trying not to do that. Remember, 'Choose Joy' and all that...I got it tattooed on my body for a reason...listen to your tattoo!
Thos are the few I can remember and could write something witty about. Lots of entries didn't even make it past the first line. I hope you enjoyed my (attempted) return at my normal style of blogging. Hopefully I'll have more of my wisdom (opinions) to contribute to the world soon.
Love & Light
Sunday, August 18, 2013
The Art of Eating Soup
Hi readers:
It's been a long while. Well, I wrote a post right after my dad passed away six weeks ago, but I didn't post it very long. You see, I've been very curious about people's varying reactions to the news of my father's death. You have the people who are genuinely sorry, the people want information they have no business knowing, the people who start crying about a loss they suffered (oh, so do I comfort you now?) and the people who just don't know what to say. I've experienced all of those, and I'm usually pretty fine with people's reactions, but one thing really did set me off.
I started off my previous blog saying that at that point, I had told the details to pretty much everyone I wanted to/needed to, and I wouldn't be going into detail in my blog. I guess I should have written in all caps DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS because apparently some people didn't get that memo. I know that when you post something on a social networking site you open yourself up to criticism and comments. I get it. But damn, not ten minutes after I posted the article to my Facebook account someone who I knew in college but hadn't seen for years commented some version of the following: Wow, sounds like your dad survived a lot. What happened? You can send me a private message if you'd like.
Oh really? A private message? Gee, you are so thoughtful! Thank you for taking into account that I might not want to share the details of my dad's death on Facebook. You're such a giver. Obviously you didn't really read what I wrote because I clearly said I had already told people I wanted to/needed to know. I'm debating on whether or not to block that person from being able to read this entry. I'm not calling them out by name, and I don't really care if they're offended I'm writing about them. I'm not responsible for their reaction to my feelings.
Anyway, that's why I took a break from writing. And also, I haven't been super inspired lately. I just try to get through life one day at a time. Some days that's easier than others, and some days, friends, you aren't going to be able to win. I shared with my friend C at lunch yesterday that some days, there is no right answer. If you say one thing, I'll have wished you said another. If you said the other thing, I would be pissed you didn't say the first thing. I'm self-aware enough to know this is not fair. I try and stay away from people on days like that. But, in our open office area at work, it's pretty impossible. My friend/sorority sister/co-worker said I need a sign on my desk that says 'Today is not your day.' And I really do. But I don't want to be my mother and start constructing signs and taping them to doors of the house saying 'Do not knock, ring doorbell, leave anything or visit. DOCTOR'S ORDERS'. Yeah. Because that happened and it's totally normal and not anti-social/borderline rude. At all.
I spend a lot of time at home, reading and eating soup. Because when you have to be ON and social and pleasant 40 hours a week because it's your job, sometimes you just don't want to pretend anymore or put on a show. I don't want to pretend to be happy at happy hour. Because I'm not happy. Not all the time, but I'm still very sad. I'm doing things to cope and get help with dealing with this huge change in my life, but I'm a work in progress. My friends have been amazing, giving me space when I need it and watching Pitch Perfect for the 177th time when I need to be around people. I'm not very good asking people for help. So even if I don't respond to a text or email or phone call for a few days, I appreciate you checking in.
Speaking of soup, last night I went to Kroger and spent $30 on hot and sour soup and bleu cheese stuffed olives because that's the only meal that sounded good to me. You'd think I was pregnant or something. Which I know is not possible. Well, I guess it could be, but considering the amount of times a day I say the word 'fuck', I doubt God would pick me as an incubator for Jesus Jr. Call it sacrilege, I call it honesty. Because let's be honest, the last thing I need is a kid. I can barely take care of my diva of a cat.
So that's my life right now: soup, work, books, and the occasional social event. And that's okay. I've been doing a little bit of dating, which I haven't done in a long time, but we'll see. maybe I'll find someone to eat soup with me, and maybe not. But I'm trying. I think that's actually my life right now: I'm trying. I'm trying to be happy, do my job, be a good friend, check in on others, be supportive, and lots of other things. I know I don't always succeed, but know that I want to. Be better. My HR friends at work will like that one.
Until next time...oh, and if you get a chance, go back and read my previous entry. Because I'm proud of it. Just don't ask how he died. There. I said it. It is spelled out. I've done all I can.
It's been a long while. Well, I wrote a post right after my dad passed away six weeks ago, but I didn't post it very long. You see, I've been very curious about people's varying reactions to the news of my father's death. You have the people who are genuinely sorry, the people want information they have no business knowing, the people who start crying about a loss they suffered (oh, so do I comfort you now?) and the people who just don't know what to say. I've experienced all of those, and I'm usually pretty fine with people's reactions, but one thing really did set me off.
I started off my previous blog saying that at that point, I had told the details to pretty much everyone I wanted to/needed to, and I wouldn't be going into detail in my blog. I guess I should have written in all caps DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS because apparently some people didn't get that memo. I know that when you post something on a social networking site you open yourself up to criticism and comments. I get it. But damn, not ten minutes after I posted the article to my Facebook account someone who I knew in college but hadn't seen for years commented some version of the following: Wow, sounds like your dad survived a lot. What happened? You can send me a private message if you'd like.
Oh really? A private message? Gee, you are so thoughtful! Thank you for taking into account that I might not want to share the details of my dad's death on Facebook. You're such a giver. Obviously you didn't really read what I wrote because I clearly said I had already told people I wanted to/needed to know. I'm debating on whether or not to block that person from being able to read this entry. I'm not calling them out by name, and I don't really care if they're offended I'm writing about them. I'm not responsible for their reaction to my feelings.
Anyway, that's why I took a break from writing. And also, I haven't been super inspired lately. I just try to get through life one day at a time. Some days that's easier than others, and some days, friends, you aren't going to be able to win. I shared with my friend C at lunch yesterday that some days, there is no right answer. If you say one thing, I'll have wished you said another. If you said the other thing, I would be pissed you didn't say the first thing. I'm self-aware enough to know this is not fair. I try and stay away from people on days like that. But, in our open office area at work, it's pretty impossible. My friend/sorority sister/co-worker said I need a sign on my desk that says 'Today is not your day.' And I really do. But I don't want to be my mother and start constructing signs and taping them to doors of the house saying 'Do not knock, ring doorbell, leave anything or visit. DOCTOR'S ORDERS'. Yeah. Because that happened and it's totally normal and not anti-social/borderline rude. At all.
I spend a lot of time at home, reading and eating soup. Because when you have to be ON and social and pleasant 40 hours a week because it's your job, sometimes you just don't want to pretend anymore or put on a show. I don't want to pretend to be happy at happy hour. Because I'm not happy. Not all the time, but I'm still very sad. I'm doing things to cope and get help with dealing with this huge change in my life, but I'm a work in progress. My friends have been amazing, giving me space when I need it and watching Pitch Perfect for the 177th time when I need to be around people. I'm not very good asking people for help. So even if I don't respond to a text or email or phone call for a few days, I appreciate you checking in.
Speaking of soup, last night I went to Kroger and spent $30 on hot and sour soup and bleu cheese stuffed olives because that's the only meal that sounded good to me. You'd think I was pregnant or something. Which I know is not possible. Well, I guess it could be, but considering the amount of times a day I say the word 'fuck', I doubt God would pick me as an incubator for Jesus Jr. Call it sacrilege, I call it honesty. Because let's be honest, the last thing I need is a kid. I can barely take care of my diva of a cat.
So that's my life right now: soup, work, books, and the occasional social event. And that's okay. I've been doing a little bit of dating, which I haven't done in a long time, but we'll see. maybe I'll find someone to eat soup with me, and maybe not. But I'm trying. I think that's actually my life right now: I'm trying. I'm trying to be happy, do my job, be a good friend, check in on others, be supportive, and lots of other things. I know I don't always succeed, but know that I want to. Be better. My HR friends at work will like that one.
Until next time...oh, and if you get a chance, go back and read my previous entry. Because I'm proud of it. Just don't ask how he died. There. I said it. It is spelled out. I've done all I can.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Advice From A Girl Who Just Lost Her Dad
Hi readers.
Not going to lie, it has been a pretty shitty two weeks. It's been an emotional roller coaster and the ride won't be over for a long time. My father, who had survived cancer, a clinical trial where he was the only survivor, a heart attach and a blood clot condition, finally encountered something he couldn't fight and I lost him at 5:08 p.m. on June 26th. They say everyone grieves in their own way, and writing has always been therapeutic for me. I won't go into a lot of details about what happened and please respect that decision by not asking for more information. I tell the people I want to know the whole situation and if you haven't heard by now, it's not important that you know.
I decided to write this list of advice I'd offer to other people my age. I hope anyone reading this never has to experience what I'm going through, but who knows...this could be helpful to someone at some point in their life. The following list of advice is just my opinion.
1.) Always take an ambulance when offered.
2.) Know your family members' allergies, medical history, and medications. At my age, 28, I would assume most people know vague summaries of their parents' and siblings' medical histories, but not enough to go into much detail. Because my parents haven't been in the best of health, my family is a little different. I was very knowledgeable about medical procedures my father had in the past, his allergies, and his medication, both the schedule and dosages. This was very important because it allowed his doctors to get to work faster, once he arrived in Nashville. You think as the child, it would be another parent's responsibility to know this information. But you can't always count on your other parent being available, or in the correct state of mind, to be helpful.
3.) Know your family members' final wishes. When we were asked if we wanted to remove the breathing mask, even though by doing so it meant he would not survive, we knew what dad wanted. Quality of life was so much more important than quantity of life. We knew he wanted to be comfortable but he didn't want to stick around this Earth if he wasn't going to enjoy his life. We were able to give him a peaceful passing, and although my heart still hurts so much every time I think about it, I have solace in the knowledge that we did what my daddy wanted.
4.) This one is heavily just my opinion, but I would say don't look at the person in their last moments. Mom and I were in the room, holding his hand when he passed. I just stared at his hand because I did not want to see the last breathe he took. We sat there for a little over an hour and the nurse would update us on his breathing. When she said it was slowing down, I watched only his chest, watching it rise and fall slower and slower. When it didn't rise for a time, I went out to the nurses' station to let them know it was over. But, God was exceptionally cruel that day and when I entered the room, daddy took one last breath, and I saw it. It's an image that keeps me awake at night and gives me nightmares when I finally do sleep. I find myself thinking back to that moment during the day and I have to hold in my emotions at work. I know with time it won't be so prevalent in my memory, but right now, it's all I think about. Who knows. If I hadn't been in the room I may be crying at the fact that I wasn't there. There's no way to know how I would feel if I did something differently. I just know that right now, in this moment, I wish I hadn't seen that.
5.) Grieve the way you want to grieve. There are days I want to be around friends. There are days I want to be by myself. There are days I avoid everything going on and seem happy. There are days when I'm tired of saying I'm okay when I'm really not. I shouldn't be afraid to admit that some days, I am not okay. I will be, but some days I just don't want to hide how sad I am. I don't want to put on a show so people won't think I'm going to break. My friends and co-workers have been so great to me and I couldn't ask for a better support system. But know if I don't reply to a message or if I cancel plans, it's not because I'm losing it, I just want to feel what I feel and not have to put on a face for anyone.
6.) Prepare yourself for upcoming life events. I know weddings are going to be very hard. That doesn't mean that I don't want to support my friends getting married or that I don't want to be at their weddings. I wouldn't miss the two I have coming up for the world. But I am mentally preparing myself for the father/daughter things. For a while, when things weren't the best between me and my dad, I had said I didn't want him to walk me down the aisle. Now that I don't have that option anymore, I want it more than anything. Same with the father/daughter dance. I know I'll be surrounded by friends at both weddings and I love the couples who are getting married dearly. I just have to know what to expect, surround myself with friends, and concentrate on the love in the room between my friends who are lucky enough to find their other halves. The first year is going to be hard too, because every holiday/event will be the first one without dad. His birthday is in September, I had said we'd go to the UK/Vandy football game together this fall as his Father's Day present, and Christmas is going to be very lonely. Not to mention my birthday, Father's Day next year, and pretty much any significant event that happens to me. I started bawling the other day when I was watching some random tv show and a girl had just given birth and handed her father his first grandchild to hold.
I really don't have much else. This weekend will be hard because it will be the first time I've been at the house when he wasn't there. It'll be weird to not see him sitting in his chair by the computer, playing solitaire. It will be weird to not have him comment on how messy my car is when he fills up my gas tank for me before I'd return home. And it'll be weird to walk out of the house, not having him hug me and tell me he loves me. But I'll get through it, just like I'll get through next week, and next month, next year, and all of the rest of the years of my life. But even though I'll get through it, the hole in my heart which houses the pain of loss of my grandmother and grandfather, definitely got a little bigger two weeks, one day, and four hours and forty two minutes ago.
Not going to lie, it has been a pretty shitty two weeks. It's been an emotional roller coaster and the ride won't be over for a long time. My father, who had survived cancer, a clinical trial where he was the only survivor, a heart attach and a blood clot condition, finally encountered something he couldn't fight and I lost him at 5:08 p.m. on June 26th. They say everyone grieves in their own way, and writing has always been therapeutic for me. I won't go into a lot of details about what happened and please respect that decision by not asking for more information. I tell the people I want to know the whole situation and if you haven't heard by now, it's not important that you know.
I decided to write this list of advice I'd offer to other people my age. I hope anyone reading this never has to experience what I'm going through, but who knows...this could be helpful to someone at some point in their life. The following list of advice is just my opinion.
1.) Always take an ambulance when offered.
2.) Know your family members' allergies, medical history, and medications. At my age, 28, I would assume most people know vague summaries of their parents' and siblings' medical histories, but not enough to go into much detail. Because my parents haven't been in the best of health, my family is a little different. I was very knowledgeable about medical procedures my father had in the past, his allergies, and his medication, both the schedule and dosages. This was very important because it allowed his doctors to get to work faster, once he arrived in Nashville. You think as the child, it would be another parent's responsibility to know this information. But you can't always count on your other parent being available, or in the correct state of mind, to be helpful.
3.) Know your family members' final wishes. When we were asked if we wanted to remove the breathing mask, even though by doing so it meant he would not survive, we knew what dad wanted. Quality of life was so much more important than quantity of life. We knew he wanted to be comfortable but he didn't want to stick around this Earth if he wasn't going to enjoy his life. We were able to give him a peaceful passing, and although my heart still hurts so much every time I think about it, I have solace in the knowledge that we did what my daddy wanted.
4.) This one is heavily just my opinion, but I would say don't look at the person in their last moments. Mom and I were in the room, holding his hand when he passed. I just stared at his hand because I did not want to see the last breathe he took. We sat there for a little over an hour and the nurse would update us on his breathing. When she said it was slowing down, I watched only his chest, watching it rise and fall slower and slower. When it didn't rise for a time, I went out to the nurses' station to let them know it was over. But, God was exceptionally cruel that day and when I entered the room, daddy took one last breath, and I saw it. It's an image that keeps me awake at night and gives me nightmares when I finally do sleep. I find myself thinking back to that moment during the day and I have to hold in my emotions at work. I know with time it won't be so prevalent in my memory, but right now, it's all I think about. Who knows. If I hadn't been in the room I may be crying at the fact that I wasn't there. There's no way to know how I would feel if I did something differently. I just know that right now, in this moment, I wish I hadn't seen that.
5.) Grieve the way you want to grieve. There are days I want to be around friends. There are days I want to be by myself. There are days I avoid everything going on and seem happy. There are days when I'm tired of saying I'm okay when I'm really not. I shouldn't be afraid to admit that some days, I am not okay. I will be, but some days I just don't want to hide how sad I am. I don't want to put on a show so people won't think I'm going to break. My friends and co-workers have been so great to me and I couldn't ask for a better support system. But know if I don't reply to a message or if I cancel plans, it's not because I'm losing it, I just want to feel what I feel and not have to put on a face for anyone.
6.) Prepare yourself for upcoming life events. I know weddings are going to be very hard. That doesn't mean that I don't want to support my friends getting married or that I don't want to be at their weddings. I wouldn't miss the two I have coming up for the world. But I am mentally preparing myself for the father/daughter things. For a while, when things weren't the best between me and my dad, I had said I didn't want him to walk me down the aisle. Now that I don't have that option anymore, I want it more than anything. Same with the father/daughter dance. I know I'll be surrounded by friends at both weddings and I love the couples who are getting married dearly. I just have to know what to expect, surround myself with friends, and concentrate on the love in the room between my friends who are lucky enough to find their other halves. The first year is going to be hard too, because every holiday/event will be the first one without dad. His birthday is in September, I had said we'd go to the UK/Vandy football game together this fall as his Father's Day present, and Christmas is going to be very lonely. Not to mention my birthday, Father's Day next year, and pretty much any significant event that happens to me. I started bawling the other day when I was watching some random tv show and a girl had just given birth and handed her father his first grandchild to hold.
I really don't have much else. This weekend will be hard because it will be the first time I've been at the house when he wasn't there. It'll be weird to not see him sitting in his chair by the computer, playing solitaire. It will be weird to not have him comment on how messy my car is when he fills up my gas tank for me before I'd return home. And it'll be weird to walk out of the house, not having him hug me and tell me he loves me. But I'll get through it, just like I'll get through next week, and next month, next year, and all of the rest of the years of my life. But even though I'll get through it, the hole in my heart which houses the pain of loss of my grandmother and grandfather, definitely got a little bigger two weeks, one day, and four hours and forty two minutes ago.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
I Can Never Eat Anything Delicious Again...Or, At Least For Three Months
Sorry readers (or, reader) it's been a while. I know. Life got in the way, I wasn't feeling creative, and frankly, I was cranky most of the last month and although I can be extra funny when I'm cranky, this was the less than enjoyable cranky Anna that comes out when she's sick. You do not want to deal with her. I don't either.
So the reason for my crankiness is because I haven't been feeling well. I've had an ongoing health issue that has been getting progressively worse and was really starting to affect my life. It sounds dire, but it's not. It's nothing serious, I'm working on ways to control it, and there are plenty of people who are worse off than I am. I could alleviate whatever slight worry you might be feeling for me by telling you what it is, but I'm not going to do that. And I have a very good reason.
Basically, this is my journey. And while I appreciate when people say, "Oh, well that happens to me too and this is what I do...", I actually don't want to hear it. I'm a strong believer that different things work for different people. And some might think the way I've been instructed to go about things is stupid. Although you are entitled to your opinion, I don't want to listen to it. I've discussed this at length with my healthcare professional, done all the research, and I think it's the best way for me. It may not end up working and then you can say you told me so, but until then, keep your comments to yourself, k? Thanks.
So in addition to starting medication, I have to cut out all foods that can trigger my ailment. And let me tell you, there are a lot of foods that can be triggers. The thought is that I'll cut out all of these foods for about three months and then I can start adding them back in. If I start feeling bad again after I add a food back into my diet, I'll know that if I want to feel better, I need to stop eating it again. My hope is to be able to control this by diet and will be able to go off of the medication. I'm not against medicine when it can make you feel better. And if I need to continue taking it I will. But if I can control this naturally, I'd much rather do it that way. (cue BSB 'I Want It That Way' as background music.)
So below are the foods I have to cut out and my reactions to each:
Processed Meat
Okay, not a huge deal. No bacon or sausage, but I don't eat a ton of those anyway. Although ever since I found out they were on the list of banned foods, I have really wanted a bacon cheeseburger.
Cheese
THIS IS A HUGE DEAL. I love cheese. I frequently have bleu cheese crumbles for dinner. And I love goat cheese on crostini with strawberries and basil. And queso is delicious. I could survive on cheese alone. Okay, well I'd probably feel like shit, but it would be awesome for a few days. This also means no pizza. Slightly devastating.
Nuts
To this, I say, aw nuts! Okay, I'm not really that cheesy. Again, not a huge deal. Until you realize that your oatmeal packets have nuts in them and have to awkwardly pick them out at your desk.
Chocolate
Don't like it anyway. I could care less.
Food With Preservatives
No more lean cuisines, smart ones, or hot pockets. Damn. Those quick meals will be missed.
Cultured Dairy Products
This is actually a huge deal to me because I love sour cream. It's a great ingredient for sauces, spreads, marinades,...a lot of things. One of my favorite go-to dinners is to bake chicken breats in the oven topped with a layer of sour cream and italian breadcrumbs. Easy and delicious, every time. Well, not anymore. At least not for three months.
MSG
No Chinese food for me and NO SOY SAUCE. That is a huge deal, considering my weekly sushi Wednesday pilgrimages to Koto. I have found an alternative and might become that lady that brings her own sauces to restaurants. You gotta do what you gotta do.
Caffeine
I'll miss it, but I can do without it. I've given up caffeine before and shockingly did not get one single withdrawal headache. This leads me to doubt that it is responsible for what I have since my body doesn't react negatively to the absence of it, but what do I know?
Fresh Baked Goods w/ Yeast
So no cakes or doughnuts or bread. I only like bread out of that list and I can do without it. But damn. I'm not even done with the list and I'm getting depressed all over again about my options.
Canned Soups
All soups must be homemade. Goodbye, Campbell's Creamy Tomato. Goodbye.
Potato Chips
I'm not even going to remark how heartwrenching this is. I'll just say that for my birthday this year, instead of a cake, I was given a jumbo bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. That is how much I love the things. Luckily I've gotten used to roasting chickpeas and edamame in the oven with different spices, which is a nice substitute.
Alcohol
Except at the wedding of the Favorite Redhead. I have to drink to the happiness of my favorite couple. Plus, champagne, red wine, whiskey and beer are the main bad guys, so having a couple of glasses of white wine would be okay, right?
There are a few other things but these are the main ones. It's a lot like clean eating, which is really good for you, so hopefully I'll get healthier as well as feel better. Plus, I'll be saving money not eating out as much since I'm not going to pay for someone to drizzle lemon juice over a bed of lettuce and charge me $13 for a 'salad.' I'll do that myself at home. I'm sure after two weeks or so I'll be so used to it I won't even miss the other foods. That's a blatant lie. I will always miss bleu cheese and potato chips.
I am comforted in the fact that it might not be goodbye for forever to some of my favorite foods, but moreso a see you later.
I am now starving after writing about food. That's the equivalent of looking at Pinterest right before dinner. Damn.
So the reason for my crankiness is because I haven't been feeling well. I've had an ongoing health issue that has been getting progressively worse and was really starting to affect my life. It sounds dire, but it's not. It's nothing serious, I'm working on ways to control it, and there are plenty of people who are worse off than I am. I could alleviate whatever slight worry you might be feeling for me by telling you what it is, but I'm not going to do that. And I have a very good reason.
Basically, this is my journey. And while I appreciate when people say, "Oh, well that happens to me too and this is what I do...", I actually don't want to hear it. I'm a strong believer that different things work for different people. And some might think the way I've been instructed to go about things is stupid. Although you are entitled to your opinion, I don't want to listen to it. I've discussed this at length with my healthcare professional, done all the research, and I think it's the best way for me. It may not end up working and then you can say you told me so, but until then, keep your comments to yourself, k? Thanks.
So in addition to starting medication, I have to cut out all foods that can trigger my ailment. And let me tell you, there are a lot of foods that can be triggers. The thought is that I'll cut out all of these foods for about three months and then I can start adding them back in. If I start feeling bad again after I add a food back into my diet, I'll know that if I want to feel better, I need to stop eating it again. My hope is to be able to control this by diet and will be able to go off of the medication. I'm not against medicine when it can make you feel better. And if I need to continue taking it I will. But if I can control this naturally, I'd much rather do it that way. (cue BSB 'I Want It That Way' as background music.)
So below are the foods I have to cut out and my reactions to each:
Processed Meat
Okay, not a huge deal. No bacon or sausage, but I don't eat a ton of those anyway. Although ever since I found out they were on the list of banned foods, I have really wanted a bacon cheeseburger.
Cheese
THIS IS A HUGE DEAL. I love cheese. I frequently have bleu cheese crumbles for dinner. And I love goat cheese on crostini with strawberries and basil. And queso is delicious. I could survive on cheese alone. Okay, well I'd probably feel like shit, but it would be awesome for a few days. This also means no pizza. Slightly devastating.
Nuts
To this, I say, aw nuts! Okay, I'm not really that cheesy. Again, not a huge deal. Until you realize that your oatmeal packets have nuts in them and have to awkwardly pick them out at your desk.
Chocolate
Don't like it anyway. I could care less.
Food With Preservatives
No more lean cuisines, smart ones, or hot pockets. Damn. Those quick meals will be missed.
Cultured Dairy Products
This is actually a huge deal to me because I love sour cream. It's a great ingredient for sauces, spreads, marinades,...a lot of things. One of my favorite go-to dinners is to bake chicken breats in the oven topped with a layer of sour cream and italian breadcrumbs. Easy and delicious, every time. Well, not anymore. At least not for three months.
MSG
No Chinese food for me and NO SOY SAUCE. That is a huge deal, considering my weekly sushi Wednesday pilgrimages to Koto. I have found an alternative and might become that lady that brings her own sauces to restaurants. You gotta do what you gotta do.
Caffeine
I'll miss it, but I can do without it. I've given up caffeine before and shockingly did not get one single withdrawal headache. This leads me to doubt that it is responsible for what I have since my body doesn't react negatively to the absence of it, but what do I know?
Fresh Baked Goods w/ Yeast
So no cakes or doughnuts or bread. I only like bread out of that list and I can do without it. But damn. I'm not even done with the list and I'm getting depressed all over again about my options.
Canned Soups
All soups must be homemade. Goodbye, Campbell's Creamy Tomato. Goodbye.
Potato Chips
I'm not even going to remark how heartwrenching this is. I'll just say that for my birthday this year, instead of a cake, I was given a jumbo bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. That is how much I love the things. Luckily I've gotten used to roasting chickpeas and edamame in the oven with different spices, which is a nice substitute.
Alcohol
Except at the wedding of the Favorite Redhead. I have to drink to the happiness of my favorite couple. Plus, champagne, red wine, whiskey and beer are the main bad guys, so having a couple of glasses of white wine would be okay, right?
There are a few other things but these are the main ones. It's a lot like clean eating, which is really good for you, so hopefully I'll get healthier as well as feel better. Plus, I'll be saving money not eating out as much since I'm not going to pay for someone to drizzle lemon juice over a bed of lettuce and charge me $13 for a 'salad.' I'll do that myself at home. I'm sure after two weeks or so I'll be so used to it I won't even miss the other foods. That's a blatant lie. I will always miss bleu cheese and potato chips.
I am comforted in the fact that it might not be goodbye for forever to some of my favorite foods, but moreso a see you later.
I am now starving after writing about food. That's the equivalent of looking at Pinterest right before dinner. Damn.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Seven Times My Mom Tried To Turn Me Into A Girly Girl...And Failed
I am not a girly girl. I'm definitely not a tomboy either. I've never had an issue with the fact that I was just as happy to play ninja turtles in pre-school with all of the other boys rather than dress up and have tea parties with no tea. I mean, what's the use of pouring someone a play cup of tea if there is no actual liquid going in the cup? Girl needs some applejuice.
Being the only child of an only child, my mom had lots of high hopes for me growing up. She wanted, nay, demanded that I be valedictorian, go to law school, become a doctor/lawyer/award-winning playwright, and have a gaggle of children with my rich husband. Well, I'm 1/4 on her major wishlist. Sorry Susan.
Another thing that she desperately wanted me to be was a girly girl. Mom dreamed of the days where she and her daughter would do eachother's nails and dress in lots of pink. Well, that didn't really ever happen. Below are seven of the most memorable instances of me disappointing my mother in my non-girliness. Which is now, apparently, a word.
1.) I hated dance. My mom dreamed of having a ballerina in the family, but I guess she'll have to settle for dressing the dog up in a tutu. I could have cared less. During dance class I was more concerned with the girls who got to launch themselves at the vault during gymnastics class. My costumes had sequins all over them, but God, were they itchy and uncomfortable. Plus, there were all the feathers. I LOATHE feathers. Dance and me, were not a perfect marriage.
2.) I gave up gymastics for softball. My mom finally caved and allowed me to take gymnastics, beginning when I was six. I suppose she figured it still counted as dance considering I took lessons at a dance studio. Well, in third grade, I developed another love: softball. My grandfather loved teaching me how to catch the ball and bat. As readers of this blog are aware, my grandfather was the most important person in my life before he passed away. I learned all of the MLB teams and mascots. He would quiz me while I swung on my tire swing in the backyard. Not so coincidentally, but my love affair with softball and baseball developed the summer Baskin Robbins sold ice cream sundaes in miniature baseball helmets of MLB teams. I was a fat kid, so this was very appealing to me. I'd say we needed to go to Baskin Robbins so I could get another baseball helmet, but really, I wanted the chocolate fudge sundae. With no cherry. After a few years of doing both gymnastics and softball, I had to pick just one, as my practice schedules were becomming more and more demanding. Even though my mom desperately pleaded (and bribed) to try and get me to stick with gymnastics, I chose softball. Because nothing made me feel better in the world than hearing my grandfather cheer for me when I hit the ball.
3.) I refused to have a pink room. Mom and dad decided that they were going to redecorate my room. They wanted me to make the transition from little girl room with the Barbie sheets to the big girl room with floral patterned wallpaper. Pink floral patterned wallpaper. Even though I was only seven, I knew what I wanted. And it was not pink. I wanted UK blue (I started out as a fan young) but mom thought my fandom was fleeting. Wrong. I finally compromised with mom enough to have lavender wallpaper...even though I wanted royal purple. At least I didn't have pink. Although, I did notice that even though my bedspread was lavendar, pink sheets kept popping up underneath the covers. Neither of us acknowledged this fact. I silently compromised and mom acted like she knew nothing was amiss. I've mentioned before how good my family is at avoidance. Prime example.
4.) All I wanted to wear to school were Adidas pants and UK shirts. For Christmas each year my mom would stuff my 5 foot tall stocking (remember, only child) to the brim with outfits full of ruffles, sparkles, and silky fabric. That makes it sound like my stocking was full of stripper outfits, but don't worry, it wasn't. Each year I'd look at the pile of clothing in front of me and promptly exit the living room to put on my comfy Adidas pants and UK tshirt that was my normal Middle School era attire. I wanted to be comfortable, not cute. I mean, I was chubby, still had 80s bangs, braces to fix my horribly crooked teeth, an acne problem, and I was 12. No amount of frills or flair was going to make me look cute. I stuck to my comfort while mom wistfully glanced at the outfits she had bought me, only to be discarded for tshirts as old as our pets were.
5.) Red car vs blue car. When I was 16, because of my good grades and my aversion to ever disobeying my parents, mom and dad said they'd buy me a car. Obviously, I was super excited. We went to the car lot, I test drove some of my favorites, and I was down to two: a red Pontiac Sunfire with a sunroof and a blue Oldsmobile Alero, also with a sunroof. Obviously, mom liked the red car because she said it was more lady like. Obviously, I liked the blue one because it was blue. Blue won out. My mom's mortification only grew when I hung Mardi Gras beads in the rearview mirror. No, I didn't earn them (but I might next weekend while in New Orleans!...no, I really won't) but that didn't make any difference to her.
6.) Sexy prom dress vs ball gown. Senior prom was approaching. I had a hot date I'd never met in person (story for another time), was super tan, and I was ready to buy my prom dress. I tried on two that I loved: a mint green fluffy ball gown, and a sexy white one shoulder with gemstone lined oval shaped cutouts that traced a curve from one shoulder, over my chest, down to the opposite hip. I went with the white dress, even though because of the location of the cut outs, I could not wear underwear. Mom thought taking me to Fredericks of Hollywood to find some sort of underwear contraption to wear would be a great idea. When they handed an 18 year old girl a g-string with rhinestones and clear plastic straps mom figured out that probably wasn't the best idea and told me it would be best just to go without
7. The time I told my mom I didn't want a wedding, I just wanted to go to the courthouse. This probably hit my mom the hardest...well, maybe the me giving up dance was harder, but this one was close. When talking about my dream wedding with my mother at one point (probably during a Say Yes to the Dress marathon), I dropped the bombshell that I didn't want a wedding at all. I wanted to go to the courthouse, have a party for all my friends afterwards, and go on a kickass honeymoon. No fluffy white dress, no father/daughter dance, no gross wedding cake. She cried. Like, huge tears, ugly face cried. I tried to explain to her how silly it was to spend so much money on one day and I could use my wedding fund for a down payment on a house, but she was having none of it. I have since changed my mind (although the courthouse/huge party idea is still appealing) but I haven't told her that. Because if I did, she'd be coming to me with floral arrangement ideas and possible invitation prints. And I'm not even dating anyone.
Again, I'm not a tomboy, but I'm definitely not the girly girl my mom dreamed that I'd be. I curse too much, I have a tattoo (still not sure if she's aware I went through with that decision) and I have a sense of humor that is more snarky than charming. But, I think my mom is still pretty happy with the way I turned out.
And one shoutout to my grandfather, Daddy Cliff, who would have been 91 tomorrow. Even though I mortify my mother sometimes with my language and life decisions, I know he's up there in heaven laughing at every curse word I say, enjoying every awkward situation I get into and saying, "That's my girl." I love you Daddy Cliff. Forever and always and a day.
Being the only child of an only child, my mom had lots of high hopes for me growing up. She wanted, nay, demanded that I be valedictorian, go to law school, become a doctor/lawyer/award-winning playwright, and have a gaggle of children with my rich husband. Well, I'm 1/4 on her major wishlist. Sorry Susan.
Another thing that she desperately wanted me to be was a girly girl. Mom dreamed of the days where she and her daughter would do eachother's nails and dress in lots of pink. Well, that didn't really ever happen. Below are seven of the most memorable instances of me disappointing my mother in my non-girliness. Which is now, apparently, a word.
1.) I hated dance. My mom dreamed of having a ballerina in the family, but I guess she'll have to settle for dressing the dog up in a tutu. I could have cared less. During dance class I was more concerned with the girls who got to launch themselves at the vault during gymnastics class. My costumes had sequins all over them, but God, were they itchy and uncomfortable. Plus, there were all the feathers. I LOATHE feathers. Dance and me, were not a perfect marriage.
2.) I gave up gymastics for softball. My mom finally caved and allowed me to take gymnastics, beginning when I was six. I suppose she figured it still counted as dance considering I took lessons at a dance studio. Well, in third grade, I developed another love: softball. My grandfather loved teaching me how to catch the ball and bat. As readers of this blog are aware, my grandfather was the most important person in my life before he passed away. I learned all of the MLB teams and mascots. He would quiz me while I swung on my tire swing in the backyard. Not so coincidentally, but my love affair with softball and baseball developed the summer Baskin Robbins sold ice cream sundaes in miniature baseball helmets of MLB teams. I was a fat kid, so this was very appealing to me. I'd say we needed to go to Baskin Robbins so I could get another baseball helmet, but really, I wanted the chocolate fudge sundae. With no cherry. After a few years of doing both gymnastics and softball, I had to pick just one, as my practice schedules were becomming more and more demanding. Even though my mom desperately pleaded (and bribed) to try and get me to stick with gymnastics, I chose softball. Because nothing made me feel better in the world than hearing my grandfather cheer for me when I hit the ball.
3.) I refused to have a pink room. Mom and dad decided that they were going to redecorate my room. They wanted me to make the transition from little girl room with the Barbie sheets to the big girl room with floral patterned wallpaper. Pink floral patterned wallpaper. Even though I was only seven, I knew what I wanted. And it was not pink. I wanted UK blue (I started out as a fan young) but mom thought my fandom was fleeting. Wrong. I finally compromised with mom enough to have lavender wallpaper...even though I wanted royal purple. At least I didn't have pink. Although, I did notice that even though my bedspread was lavendar, pink sheets kept popping up underneath the covers. Neither of us acknowledged this fact. I silently compromised and mom acted like she knew nothing was amiss. I've mentioned before how good my family is at avoidance. Prime example.
4.) All I wanted to wear to school were Adidas pants and UK shirts. For Christmas each year my mom would stuff my 5 foot tall stocking (remember, only child) to the brim with outfits full of ruffles, sparkles, and silky fabric. That makes it sound like my stocking was full of stripper outfits, but don't worry, it wasn't. Each year I'd look at the pile of clothing in front of me and promptly exit the living room to put on my comfy Adidas pants and UK tshirt that was my normal Middle School era attire. I wanted to be comfortable, not cute. I mean, I was chubby, still had 80s bangs, braces to fix my horribly crooked teeth, an acne problem, and I was 12. No amount of frills or flair was going to make me look cute. I stuck to my comfort while mom wistfully glanced at the outfits she had bought me, only to be discarded for tshirts as old as our pets were.
5.) Red car vs blue car. When I was 16, because of my good grades and my aversion to ever disobeying my parents, mom and dad said they'd buy me a car. Obviously, I was super excited. We went to the car lot, I test drove some of my favorites, and I was down to two: a red Pontiac Sunfire with a sunroof and a blue Oldsmobile Alero, also with a sunroof. Obviously, mom liked the red car because she said it was more lady like. Obviously, I liked the blue one because it was blue. Blue won out. My mom's mortification only grew when I hung Mardi Gras beads in the rearview mirror. No, I didn't earn them (but I might next weekend while in New Orleans!...no, I really won't) but that didn't make any difference to her.
6.) Sexy prom dress vs ball gown. Senior prom was approaching. I had a hot date I'd never met in person (story for another time), was super tan, and I was ready to buy my prom dress. I tried on two that I loved: a mint green fluffy ball gown, and a sexy white one shoulder with gemstone lined oval shaped cutouts that traced a curve from one shoulder, over my chest, down to the opposite hip. I went with the white dress, even though because of the location of the cut outs, I could not wear underwear. Mom thought taking me to Fredericks of Hollywood to find some sort of underwear contraption to wear would be a great idea. When they handed an 18 year old girl a g-string with rhinestones and clear plastic straps mom figured out that probably wasn't the best idea and told me it would be best just to go without
7. The time I told my mom I didn't want a wedding, I just wanted to go to the courthouse. This probably hit my mom the hardest...well, maybe the me giving up dance was harder, but this one was close. When talking about my dream wedding with my mother at one point (probably during a Say Yes to the Dress marathon), I dropped the bombshell that I didn't want a wedding at all. I wanted to go to the courthouse, have a party for all my friends afterwards, and go on a kickass honeymoon. No fluffy white dress, no father/daughter dance, no gross wedding cake. She cried. Like, huge tears, ugly face cried. I tried to explain to her how silly it was to spend so much money on one day and I could use my wedding fund for a down payment on a house, but she was having none of it. I have since changed my mind (although the courthouse/huge party idea is still appealing) but I haven't told her that. Because if I did, she'd be coming to me with floral arrangement ideas and possible invitation prints. And I'm not even dating anyone.
Again, I'm not a tomboy, but I'm definitely not the girly girl my mom dreamed that I'd be. I curse too much, I have a tattoo (still not sure if she's aware I went through with that decision) and I have a sense of humor that is more snarky than charming. But, I think my mom is still pretty happy with the way I turned out.
And one shoutout to my grandfather, Daddy Cliff, who would have been 91 tomorrow. Even though I mortify my mother sometimes with my language and life decisions, I know he's up there in heaven laughing at every curse word I say, enjoying every awkward situation I get into and saying, "That's my girl." I love you Daddy Cliff. Forever and always and a day.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
What I Learned From Being Off Of Facebook For A Week And A Day
Greetings readers!
It's forty one minutes until the new episode of Game of Thrones and I'm finally done working for the day (yes, on Sunday) so I figured I have enough time to jot down a quick blog post before I settle in to watch the Khaleesi kick some more asses and take a few more names. Seriously y'all, call me nerdy for being such a huge GoT fan, but I dare anyone to watch last week's episode and not be impressed. Dracarys.
Anyway, last week I disabled my Facebook account. I didn't do it because I was trying to get my mind off of some guy or for some higher purpose like giving something up for Lent or some other religious holiday. Mainly, I did it because I was sick of looking at it. Here are a few things I learned being away from the world of Facebook.
1.) People don't give a shit what I'm up to.
I am as guilty (or more-so) than anyone of posting meaningless status updates. I try to at least make them witty or entertaining, but I have posted far too many times what I'm having for dinner, what I'm reading, or that I'm exhausted. Sure, a few people asked me if I wasn't on the book of face anymore, but no one cried, time didn't stop, and the world didn't fall off its axis when I didn't post anything for a week. Not that I think I am anywhere important enough for any of those things to happen, but still...they didn't.
2.) I don't give a shit what you're up to.
Just as I'm sure people have groaned at some of my status updates, I groan just as much about theirs. There are several things I can't stand to see posted but I fear if I list them out I will offend my friends who are offenders of the list. But, my top 3 I Don't Give a Shit subjects are your children's bowel movements, anything about how you love gay people but don't support gay marriage, and selfies. I know what you look like, you know what you look like, just STOP.
3.) So much less drama.
A lot happened last week and people were texting me left and right with 'did you see what so and so posted'? And my answer could always be 'No.' And it was glorious. Because I didn't see what stupid decisions some people were making, I didn't think about them. And it was wonderful.
So why am I back on Facebook? Honestly, it's mainly for pictures and to keep in contact with people I don't see very often, such as old professors and co-workers. But, I definitely plan to post less. Yes, I fully see the irony of advertising this new blogpost in a Facebook status, but whatever. It's a link, you don't have to click, and if you don't want to read it don't click it. Not that hard, people.
Okay, time to look over a report one more time before I settle in to watch the greatest show on tv. Why am I working on a Sunday, you may ask? Well, that is a story for another blog. But I'll give you a little teaser: it's because of a coworker I have that sits close to me and does not shut up for the 7.5 hours she is at work. Constant chatter about her aunt's broken hip three years ago, what she made for dinner last night, and updates about the stupid 31 shit she sells. Much like annoying Facebook status she's always there, in your face, constantly spewing information no one around her cares to hear. That'll be a fun read.
It's forty one minutes until the new episode of Game of Thrones and I'm finally done working for the day (yes, on Sunday) so I figured I have enough time to jot down a quick blog post before I settle in to watch the Khaleesi kick some more asses and take a few more names. Seriously y'all, call me nerdy for being such a huge GoT fan, but I dare anyone to watch last week's episode and not be impressed. Dracarys.
Anyway, last week I disabled my Facebook account. I didn't do it because I was trying to get my mind off of some guy or for some higher purpose like giving something up for Lent or some other religious holiday. Mainly, I did it because I was sick of looking at it. Here are a few things I learned being away from the world of Facebook.
1.) People don't give a shit what I'm up to.
I am as guilty (or more-so) than anyone of posting meaningless status updates. I try to at least make them witty or entertaining, but I have posted far too many times what I'm having for dinner, what I'm reading, or that I'm exhausted. Sure, a few people asked me if I wasn't on the book of face anymore, but no one cried, time didn't stop, and the world didn't fall off its axis when I didn't post anything for a week. Not that I think I am anywhere important enough for any of those things to happen, but still...they didn't.
2.) I don't give a shit what you're up to.
Just as I'm sure people have groaned at some of my status updates, I groan just as much about theirs. There are several things I can't stand to see posted but I fear if I list them out I will offend my friends who are offenders of the list. But, my top 3 I Don't Give a Shit subjects are your children's bowel movements, anything about how you love gay people but don't support gay marriage, and selfies. I know what you look like, you know what you look like, just STOP.
3.) So much less drama.
A lot happened last week and people were texting me left and right with 'did you see what so and so posted'? And my answer could always be 'No.' And it was glorious. Because I didn't see what stupid decisions some people were making, I didn't think about them. And it was wonderful.
So why am I back on Facebook? Honestly, it's mainly for pictures and to keep in contact with people I don't see very often, such as old professors and co-workers. But, I definitely plan to post less. Yes, I fully see the irony of advertising this new blogpost in a Facebook status, but whatever. It's a link, you don't have to click, and if you don't want to read it don't click it. Not that hard, people.
Okay, time to look over a report one more time before I settle in to watch the greatest show on tv. Why am I working on a Sunday, you may ask? Well, that is a story for another blog. But I'll give you a little teaser: it's because of a coworker I have that sits close to me and does not shut up for the 7.5 hours she is at work. Constant chatter about her aunt's broken hip three years ago, what she made for dinner last night, and updates about the stupid 31 shit she sells. Much like annoying Facebook status she's always there, in your face, constantly spewing information no one around her cares to hear. That'll be a fun read.
Friday, April 19, 2013
The Art of Being Friends With An Ex
My ex-boyfriend is one of my closest friends.
Not too many people can say that statement. D and I dated for five years and broke up five years ago. Next week would have been our 10 year anniversary, had we stayed together. It was pretty much the best break-up ever. I looked at him, said, "We're never getting married, are we?" He said, "No." I said, "Are you happy?" He said, "No, are you?" I said, "No." There was some crying on my part but mainly because I was scared of losing him as a friend. He's a wonderful person and we were great friends, but that's all we were. However, when you spend that large of a chunk of your life with someone, it's hard to think they may not be there anymore. That was five years ago and we're still very close. In fact, we email 3-4 days a week, sometimes multiple times a day. We email inside jokes between the two of us, links we think the other person would enjoy (usually something Legends of the Hidden Temple or GUTS related), and talk to eachother about people in our lives that we're dating, or want to date. His current goal is to get into the yoga pants of a girl on his kickball team we affectionately call Yoga Pants. I don't know her real name. I know he's told me, but I can't remember it, and prefer to call her Yoga Pants.
I've always prided myself on the fact that I'm friendly with my exes. No, I don't talk to any of them as much as I talk to D, but that would be too many people to correspond over email with. I don't hate any of them and would greet anyone I dated in the past with a hug. I mean, there are one or two that I wouldn't mind if they contracted a venereal disease at some point in their lives, but I would hope it would be a curable one. I do feel, however, that once your ex is married, correspondence should cease between the two of you, out of respect for their spouse. No more birthday facebook postings, no more congratulations texts, and definitely no sexting. Not that I ever engage in that activity with an ex. But I might someday, if I'm bored.
People often ask me if I think we'll ever get back together and my response is always no. Yes, we still get along really well and he's one of the first people I tell about huge life events, but he's just a really good friend. And I doubt he'd want to date me again anyway. I was a terrible girlfriend at times and an awesome one at others. I mean, we dated when I was 18-23...what 18-23 year old can't say they were equally awesome and horrible to their partners? But that ship has sailed and that Yankee Candle has been blown out. (There's a really hilarious story about my ex and Yankee Candles. Ask me about it sometime.) But it's nice to know that if I need a male perspective on the latest guy in my life, I can always go to him. Usually he says the equivalent of 'what the eff' are you doing', but he really can't argue too much about the people I am attracted to because Yoga Pants has an aversion to sand. To sand. I don't even understand how that's a thing or why that came up the night they met, but whatever. I said as long as they never go on a date where sand volleyball is involved, he should be golden.
I feel like this entry just kind of abruptly ended, but it's all I've got for today. Till next time, whenever that may be...
Not too many people can say that statement. D and I dated for five years and broke up five years ago. Next week would have been our 10 year anniversary, had we stayed together. It was pretty much the best break-up ever. I looked at him, said, "We're never getting married, are we?" He said, "No." I said, "Are you happy?" He said, "No, are you?" I said, "No." There was some crying on my part but mainly because I was scared of losing him as a friend. He's a wonderful person and we were great friends, but that's all we were. However, when you spend that large of a chunk of your life with someone, it's hard to think they may not be there anymore. That was five years ago and we're still very close. In fact, we email 3-4 days a week, sometimes multiple times a day. We email inside jokes between the two of us, links we think the other person would enjoy (usually something Legends of the Hidden Temple or GUTS related), and talk to eachother about people in our lives that we're dating, or want to date. His current goal is to get into the yoga pants of a girl on his kickball team we affectionately call Yoga Pants. I don't know her real name. I know he's told me, but I can't remember it, and prefer to call her Yoga Pants.
I've always prided myself on the fact that I'm friendly with my exes. No, I don't talk to any of them as much as I talk to D, but that would be too many people to correspond over email with. I don't hate any of them and would greet anyone I dated in the past with a hug. I mean, there are one or two that I wouldn't mind if they contracted a venereal disease at some point in their lives, but I would hope it would be a curable one. I do feel, however, that once your ex is married, correspondence should cease between the two of you, out of respect for their spouse. No more birthday facebook postings, no more congratulations texts, and definitely no sexting. Not that I ever engage in that activity with an ex. But I might someday, if I'm bored.
People often ask me if I think we'll ever get back together and my response is always no. Yes, we still get along really well and he's one of the first people I tell about huge life events, but he's just a really good friend. And I doubt he'd want to date me again anyway. I was a terrible girlfriend at times and an awesome one at others. I mean, we dated when I was 18-23...what 18-23 year old can't say they were equally awesome and horrible to their partners? But that ship has sailed and that Yankee Candle has been blown out. (There's a really hilarious story about my ex and Yankee Candles. Ask me about it sometime.) But it's nice to know that if I need a male perspective on the latest guy in my life, I can always go to him. Usually he says the equivalent of 'what the eff' are you doing', but he really can't argue too much about the people I am attracted to because Yoga Pants has an aversion to sand. To sand. I don't even understand how that's a thing or why that came up the night they met, but whatever. I said as long as they never go on a date where sand volleyball is involved, he should be golden.
I feel like this entry just kind of abruptly ended, but it's all I've got for today. Till next time, whenever that may be...
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
16 Ways I Want to Respond to the Question "Do You Have A Boyfriend?"
I really hate that question. For several reasons. It frequently comes at inopportune times. It's used as a filler for the last ten minutes of a lunch hour meeting, or when you run into someone on the street that you would be fine never seeing again, but apparently they want to share their life story with you. Co-workers will ask you if you've had any dates lately and then pat you on the shoulder and say, "Oh, don't worry. You'll find someone someday." Um, thanks, but I'm not worried. You're the one that brought it up. So I have come up with 16 responses that I have committed myself to say in the future when this question is posed to me.
1.) Why don't you ask me if I have a girlfriend?
2.) How much is in your 401k? Oh wait, is that too personal? So sorry.
3.) I have severe trust issues and am probably too emotionally damaged to ever be capable of loving another person wholeheartedly.
4.) I mean, I have a guy I sleep with every now and then. Does that count?
5.) I'm a swinger.
6.) Yes. But he's a secret government agent and if I told you his identity I would have to kill you.
7.) Well this guy thinks I'm his girlfriend but I'm not.
8.) I'm not allowed to date until I'm 40.
9.) I'm actually a polygamist and have four husbands in four different states. Shhh.
10.) Well, I did put a 'Missed Connections' ad out on Craigslist, so fingers crossed!
11.) Define "boyfriend."
12.) Why, are you trying to ask me out?
13.) 'A' boyfriend? I have a harem of boyfriends.
14.) Yes, and I'm only dating him for his money and the use of his fancy car.
15.) (burst into tears) Nooooo! I'm so ugly and stupid and lame and no one wants to date meeeeeeeeee!
16.) That, sir or madame, is none of your concern.
Any other creative responses I should add to this list?
1.) Why don't you ask me if I have a girlfriend?
2.) How much is in your 401k? Oh wait, is that too personal? So sorry.
3.) I have severe trust issues and am probably too emotionally damaged to ever be capable of loving another person wholeheartedly.
4.) I mean, I have a guy I sleep with every now and then. Does that count?
5.) I'm a swinger.
6.) Yes. But he's a secret government agent and if I told you his identity I would have to kill you.
7.) Well this guy thinks I'm his girlfriend but I'm not.
8.) I'm not allowed to date until I'm 40.
9.) I'm actually a polygamist and have four husbands in four different states. Shhh.
10.) Well, I did put a 'Missed Connections' ad out on Craigslist, so fingers crossed!
11.) Define "boyfriend."
12.) Why, are you trying to ask me out?
13.) 'A' boyfriend? I have a harem of boyfriends.
14.) Yes, and I'm only dating him for his money and the use of his fancy car.
15.) (burst into tears) Nooooo! I'm so ugly and stupid and lame and no one wants to date meeeeeeeeee!
16.) That, sir or madame, is none of your concern.
Any other creative responses I should add to this list?
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Am I Weird?
You and I both already know the answer to that question. Yes, I'm terrifically weird. And I wouldn't be any other way. But I'm not talking about being a weird person in general. I'm talking about being weird when it comes to the relationship area of my life. Here's the story.
So, I haven't dated anyone in a pretty long time. Sure, there have been dates here and there, but no really significant relationship in the past couple of years. Most of the time I'm pretty okay being single, and I usually prefer it. Of course there are those moments when you wish you had someone, like when your dad says something hurtful to you or when you have a bad day...or when you can't get your dress zipped all the way up in the back and you go to work with it halfway unzipped and ask a co-worker to finish it zipping up for you. Luckily I have no shame, so this wasn't as awkward as it could be.
So I had been talking to this guy and he did everything right. He called instead of texted, asked me on a next date while we were still on the present one, and was a very nice person. He talked about wanting to settle down, how Nashville was a place he wanted to raise his kids, and how he was at a place in his life where he was ready for all that. This is supposed to be a girl's dream, right? Well, apparently not me. I told him that while I have enjoyed hanging out with him and getting to know him, I don't think I'm ready for a serious relationship right now. To which he replied, then why am I on an online dating site, which is a valid point. I didn't want to say "well, actually I'm just not ready for a relationship with you" because that seems a little mean, even for me. But I just didn't spark with him, and it was easier to tell him I wasn't ready for a relationship at all than specify it to him. In my eyes anyway.
I have to have that spark with people. That feeling where you know you want to talk to this person again. Just because you spark with someone doesn't mean you necessarily want to date them. I spark with my girlfriends and I spark with their significant others, because I genuinely like them and enjoy spending my time with them. No, I don't want my friends boyfriends to kiss me up against a wall or come help me zip up my dress. That would be totally inappropriate. I just need that feeling that I want to have a second conversation with you. And if, at the end of the night, when walking me to my car, I do not want to be saying in my head "please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me."
My friends constantly give me grief for not giving people a chance. I look at it as I am not wasting anyone's time. I know myself pretty damn well and I know if I'm not interested, I'm not going to be. It doesn't take time to grow or whatever. It just isn't there. Is there something wrong with me? I had a close to perfect guy that wanted to seriously date me and I said no. It was the right thing to do because I wasn't feeling it, but is my feeler broken? That sounds really inappropriate.
Maybe someday I'll meet that person that I spark with and can't wait to talk to again. And maybe we'll go on a few dates and then I'll decide that yes, I really do want to welcome this person 100% into my life. I'm 28, it's not like I'm short on time. But right now, I'm just enjoying being me. I'm nerdy, slightly messy, a teensy bit OCD, a lot sassy, a tad bitchy and quite a bit funny. And one day, if a guy comes along that makes me feel like I can't wait to see him again, great. But right now, I'm fine it just being me.
So, I haven't dated anyone in a pretty long time. Sure, there have been dates here and there, but no really significant relationship in the past couple of years. Most of the time I'm pretty okay being single, and I usually prefer it. Of course there are those moments when you wish you had someone, like when your dad says something hurtful to you or when you have a bad day...or when you can't get your dress zipped all the way up in the back and you go to work with it halfway unzipped and ask a co-worker to finish it zipping up for you. Luckily I have no shame, so this wasn't as awkward as it could be.
So I had been talking to this guy and he did everything right. He called instead of texted, asked me on a next date while we were still on the present one, and was a very nice person. He talked about wanting to settle down, how Nashville was a place he wanted to raise his kids, and how he was at a place in his life where he was ready for all that. This is supposed to be a girl's dream, right? Well, apparently not me. I told him that while I have enjoyed hanging out with him and getting to know him, I don't think I'm ready for a serious relationship right now. To which he replied, then why am I on an online dating site, which is a valid point. I didn't want to say "well, actually I'm just not ready for a relationship with you" because that seems a little mean, even for me. But I just didn't spark with him, and it was easier to tell him I wasn't ready for a relationship at all than specify it to him. In my eyes anyway.
I have to have that spark with people. That feeling where you know you want to talk to this person again. Just because you spark with someone doesn't mean you necessarily want to date them. I spark with my girlfriends and I spark with their significant others, because I genuinely like them and enjoy spending my time with them. No, I don't want my friends boyfriends to kiss me up against a wall or come help me zip up my dress. That would be totally inappropriate. I just need that feeling that I want to have a second conversation with you. And if, at the end of the night, when walking me to my car, I do not want to be saying in my head "please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me."
My friends constantly give me grief for not giving people a chance. I look at it as I am not wasting anyone's time. I know myself pretty damn well and I know if I'm not interested, I'm not going to be. It doesn't take time to grow or whatever. It just isn't there. Is there something wrong with me? I had a close to perfect guy that wanted to seriously date me and I said no. It was the right thing to do because I wasn't feeling it, but is my feeler broken? That sounds really inappropriate.
Maybe someday I'll meet that person that I spark with and can't wait to talk to again. And maybe we'll go on a few dates and then I'll decide that yes, I really do want to welcome this person 100% into my life. I'm 28, it's not like I'm short on time. But right now, I'm just enjoying being me. I'm nerdy, slightly messy, a teensy bit OCD, a lot sassy, a tad bitchy and quite a bit funny. And one day, if a guy comes along that makes me feel like I can't wait to see him again, great. But right now, I'm fine it just being me.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
No, Subway Does Not Have Organic Tomatoes. IT'S SUBWAY!
Well readers, a lot has been going on in my world. And by a lot, I mean I have had the 2013 equivalent of the bubonic plague for the past week. What I thought was allergies grew into a cold and then snowballed into a sinus infection/ear infection in both ear combination that took two rounds of antibiotics and a steroid shot to combat. I'm still not at 100%, but I can at least walk to the bathroom without needing to take a fucking nap.
Other than being sick and trying to stay caught up at work, not much has happened. I have, however, started to fill up my summer social calendar and boy, is it going to be an expensive summer. I'm talking multiply baby showers, wedding showers, bachelorette parties, weddings, etc, all of which will require either fitting into a dress I already own or buying/renting a new one. Yes, renting. Rent the Runway is fabulous and will definitely be getting some business from me this summer. Don't get me wrong, I am excited for all of these events. My friends having babies are going to be great parents, my friends getting married are super in love, and who doesn't like an excuse to wear a great dress and fabulous shoes and drink at an open bar?
When thinking about what I wanted to write about today, several topics came to mind. I could write about gay marriage, which seems to be on everyone's most-discussed list right now. I actually did write about it, but decided it wasn't my story to tell and only sent it to a few friends. If you want to read a point of view that you maybe haven't heard from about the issue, feel free to email me or message me privately and I'll happily share it. I got pretty good feedback from it and it's writing that I'm very proud of. Another topic that came to mind to write about is a single girl's gift registry. You know, that episode of Sex & The City where Carrie registers for shoes that were stolen at a baby shower she attended? Because we buy baby and wedding gifts for people to celebrate their life choices, why shouldn't single girls get good gifts too! But then I thought that would be too much research and I'd have to actually figure out what I'd want to put on a registry and that stressed me out.
So I settled on writing about restaurant etiquette. Mainly because I have been really annoyed by several people at restaurants this week, and I have been told I'm at my funniest when I'm annoyed. So Tuesday, in the midst of my plague, I went to Subway after a visitation because I figured I could get a sandwich and eat off of it for the entire day. I'm standing there in my heels and fancy coat since I actually had to enter a church for the visitation (and I get didn't get struck by lightning! Maybe Jesus likes this blog after all!) and all I want is my veggie sub on wheat with oil and vinegar and this lady in front of me is taking forever. We are the only two people in the place. It's 2 p.m. on a Tuesday. This is not rocket science. So then she asks what could be the most annoying or entertaining question I have ever heard at Subway: Do you all use organic tomatoes? Of course Subway doesn't use organic tomatoes! They sell foot long sandwiches (or 11 inches in some cases) full of meat and vegetables for five dollars. They do not use organically fed chicken or organic produce. I'll say it again. They sell five dollar foot long sandwiches. Of course that shit is not organic. The poor sandwich maker just started at her and politely said they did not. The woman sneered at the kid and huffed like she was being so inconvenienced by having to put anything other than Whole Foods quality produce in her Lululemon clad body. I fully expect this woman to get something super healthy and she then orders a philly cheese steak melt with extra mayonaise. Say what? You're worried about organic tomatoes and you order a heart attack on wheat? I do not understand this world.
So then today at lunch, I saw another thing I can't stand at restaurants: people that ask too many questions. I've never been a server and that's a good thing because those people are saints. We're at my favorite sushi spot downtown and this mother and daughter sit down next to us. The mother proceeds to ask all of these questions about what goes into the spicy mayo, how fried are the tempura items, and she can't eat rice right now because she's on a special diet so which rolls don't have rice in them? Um, how about just read your menu because your menu tells you what is in the food you consume. Also, you can't eat rice? Should have thought about that before you entered a sushi/Japanese establishment for lunch. I sometimes have questions about the menu. And it's fine to have one or two. But if you're so concerned with how everything is made and what every ingredient in the spicy mayo is, then maybe you should stay home and cook for yourself. I have no idea what she ended up ordering, but I can tell you it wasn't as good as my yellowtail roll. With delicious rice.
I sound bitchy today but I'm really in a great mood, actually. Pizza with some girls and kickball later and I don't have to work tomorrow. I do have to go home to Kentucky this weekend (shit) but it's been a month and a half and I can't stretch it any longer. Plus, there's the whole thing about Sunday being a holiday and all that, but I prefer to think of it as Game Of Thrones Premiere Day instead of it's more traditional title: Easter. My friends and I have been sending nerdy emails with Game Of Thrones references and I am pumped. So, I'll sign off of here like I signed my last email. If you watch/read Game of Thrones you'll get it. If not, you'll just continue to think how horribly awkward and weird I am. I'm fine with either.
Lady Anna of Bellevue
House: Stergas
Motto: Choose Joy and Kick Ass
Sigil: Bon Jovi cat
Other than being sick and trying to stay caught up at work, not much has happened. I have, however, started to fill up my summer social calendar and boy, is it going to be an expensive summer. I'm talking multiply baby showers, wedding showers, bachelorette parties, weddings, etc, all of which will require either fitting into a dress I already own or buying/renting a new one. Yes, renting. Rent the Runway is fabulous and will definitely be getting some business from me this summer. Don't get me wrong, I am excited for all of these events. My friends having babies are going to be great parents, my friends getting married are super in love, and who doesn't like an excuse to wear a great dress and fabulous shoes and drink at an open bar?
When thinking about what I wanted to write about today, several topics came to mind. I could write about gay marriage, which seems to be on everyone's most-discussed list right now. I actually did write about it, but decided it wasn't my story to tell and only sent it to a few friends. If you want to read a point of view that you maybe haven't heard from about the issue, feel free to email me or message me privately and I'll happily share it. I got pretty good feedback from it and it's writing that I'm very proud of. Another topic that came to mind to write about is a single girl's gift registry. You know, that episode of Sex & The City where Carrie registers for shoes that were stolen at a baby shower she attended? Because we buy baby and wedding gifts for people to celebrate their life choices, why shouldn't single girls get good gifts too! But then I thought that would be too much research and I'd have to actually figure out what I'd want to put on a registry and that stressed me out.
So I settled on writing about restaurant etiquette. Mainly because I have been really annoyed by several people at restaurants this week, and I have been told I'm at my funniest when I'm annoyed. So Tuesday, in the midst of my plague, I went to Subway after a visitation because I figured I could get a sandwich and eat off of it for the entire day. I'm standing there in my heels and fancy coat since I actually had to enter a church for the visitation (and I get didn't get struck by lightning! Maybe Jesus likes this blog after all!) and all I want is my veggie sub on wheat with oil and vinegar and this lady in front of me is taking forever. We are the only two people in the place. It's 2 p.m. on a Tuesday. This is not rocket science. So then she asks what could be the most annoying or entertaining question I have ever heard at Subway: Do you all use organic tomatoes? Of course Subway doesn't use organic tomatoes! They sell foot long sandwiches (or 11 inches in some cases) full of meat and vegetables for five dollars. They do not use organically fed chicken or organic produce. I'll say it again. They sell five dollar foot long sandwiches. Of course that shit is not organic. The poor sandwich maker just started at her and politely said they did not. The woman sneered at the kid and huffed like she was being so inconvenienced by having to put anything other than Whole Foods quality produce in her Lululemon clad body. I fully expect this woman to get something super healthy and she then orders a philly cheese steak melt with extra mayonaise. Say what? You're worried about organic tomatoes and you order a heart attack on wheat? I do not understand this world.
So then today at lunch, I saw another thing I can't stand at restaurants: people that ask too many questions. I've never been a server and that's a good thing because those people are saints. We're at my favorite sushi spot downtown and this mother and daughter sit down next to us. The mother proceeds to ask all of these questions about what goes into the spicy mayo, how fried are the tempura items, and she can't eat rice right now because she's on a special diet so which rolls don't have rice in them? Um, how about just read your menu because your menu tells you what is in the food you consume. Also, you can't eat rice? Should have thought about that before you entered a sushi/Japanese establishment for lunch. I sometimes have questions about the menu. And it's fine to have one or two. But if you're so concerned with how everything is made and what every ingredient in the spicy mayo is, then maybe you should stay home and cook for yourself. I have no idea what she ended up ordering, but I can tell you it wasn't as good as my yellowtail roll. With delicious rice.
I sound bitchy today but I'm really in a great mood, actually. Pizza with some girls and kickball later and I don't have to work tomorrow. I do have to go home to Kentucky this weekend (shit) but it's been a month and a half and I can't stretch it any longer. Plus, there's the whole thing about Sunday being a holiday and all that, but I prefer to think of it as Game Of Thrones Premiere Day instead of it's more traditional title: Easter. My friends and I have been sending nerdy emails with Game Of Thrones references and I am pumped. So, I'll sign off of here like I signed my last email. If you watch/read Game of Thrones you'll get it. If not, you'll just continue to think how horribly awkward and weird I am. I'm fine with either.
Lady Anna of Bellevue
House: Stergas
Motto: Choose Joy and Kick Ass
Sigil: Bon Jovi cat
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Why Bingo Cards Make Every Life Event Better
Happy Julius Randle Day!
If you know who that is then you're celebrating with me and if you don't, then, well...I guess you're not excited. But, let's just say that college basketball next season is going to be pretty darn fun...if you're a UK fan.
Anyway, let's talk about an important life staple: the BINGO card. No, I'm not talking about the game played in nursing homes or at your elementary school's fall festival. (By the way, I have a great idea for a party: An Adult Themed Fall Festival! That sounds slightly pornographic, but the explanation is not. Guests would play all the games they played at Fall Festivals at their schools, but these games would be the grown up version. Example: instead of tossing rings onto 2-liters, guests would toss rings onto 40s. The cake walk would be the booze walk, the fishing game would have prizes such as flavored lube, and there would be body painting instead of face painting. Genius.) Back to the point, I'm talking about fun BINGO cards.
I saw my first BINGO card a few years ago when CMA Fest was in town. It used to be called Fan Fair and my friend L who works in the music business called the attendees fanfairies and showed me the BINGO card for that year. It listed things like 'find a mullet' or 'spot jorts'. Things that you knew you'd probably see. I later made my own card for my friend K's annual Sweatpants Birthday Pub Crawl. I've since made one for St. Patrick's Day and another friend's birthday this past weekend. The possibilities are endless. Has your friend ever danced on a piece of furniture and fell off? Put it on a BINGO card. Have they ever done a tribal dance around a Red Stripe bottle in Key West? Card it. Do they have a habit of making duckface? Easy. You can put pretty much anything on there. It's also a good way to get people to make idiots out of themselves in a crowded bar. I mean, have you ever seen someone randomly strike a yoga pose in a bar on a Saturday night? Well, if you were at Rebar this past Saturday you did. Usually spectators get in on the fun and offer to help you fill out your card, which is a great way to meet new friends and potential future exes. Really, there's no way you can't win with a BINGO card. If you ever need help putting one together. Apparently I'm really good at it and I think I will add it to my resume.
Also something I'm good at? Fixing printers. Or rather, kicking the printer and calling it a bastard until it starts working again.
Till next time!
If you know who that is then you're celebrating with me and if you don't, then, well...I guess you're not excited. But, let's just say that college basketball next season is going to be pretty darn fun...if you're a UK fan.
Anyway, let's talk about an important life staple: the BINGO card. No, I'm not talking about the game played in nursing homes or at your elementary school's fall festival. (By the way, I have a great idea for a party: An Adult Themed Fall Festival! That sounds slightly pornographic, but the explanation is not. Guests would play all the games they played at Fall Festivals at their schools, but these games would be the grown up version. Example: instead of tossing rings onto 2-liters, guests would toss rings onto 40s. The cake walk would be the booze walk, the fishing game would have prizes such as flavored lube, and there would be body painting instead of face painting. Genius.) Back to the point, I'm talking about fun BINGO cards.
I saw my first BINGO card a few years ago when CMA Fest was in town. It used to be called Fan Fair and my friend L who works in the music business called the attendees fanfairies and showed me the BINGO card for that year. It listed things like 'find a mullet' or 'spot jorts'. Things that you knew you'd probably see. I later made my own card for my friend K's annual Sweatpants Birthday Pub Crawl. I've since made one for St. Patrick's Day and another friend's birthday this past weekend. The possibilities are endless. Has your friend ever danced on a piece of furniture and fell off? Put it on a BINGO card. Have they ever done a tribal dance around a Red Stripe bottle in Key West? Card it. Do they have a habit of making duckface? Easy. You can put pretty much anything on there. It's also a good way to get people to make idiots out of themselves in a crowded bar. I mean, have you ever seen someone randomly strike a yoga pose in a bar on a Saturday night? Well, if you were at Rebar this past Saturday you did. Usually spectators get in on the fun and offer to help you fill out your card, which is a great way to meet new friends and potential future exes. Really, there's no way you can't win with a BINGO card. If you ever need help putting one together. Apparently I'm really good at it and I think I will add it to my resume.
Also something I'm good at? Fixing printers. Or rather, kicking the printer and calling it a bastard until it starts working again.
Till next time!
Saturday, March 16, 2013
SEC Tournament or Bust...Bust Being the Operative Word
Well, that was fun. So I had been looking forward to this weekend for months. I love when the SEC Tournament is in Nashville. Downtown is coated in a sea of blue and every person you meet is your new best friend. I was especially excited because this year the tournament did not fall during Daylight Savings Time weekend. This poses a problem when time springs forward when you are not expecting it to, causing you to make out with a boy in your car until you are positive all alcohol has left your system and you are sober enough to drive, since the bar where you had planned to sober up closed an hour early. The things we do for safety...or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, I walked around downtown yesterday during my lunch break and met a lot of new friends. There was Tom from Versailles who tried to buy me a shot of bourbon on the street. Now, there were no bourbon vendors on the street, nor would have I accepted a shot since it was 11 a.m. and I had to go back to work, but Tom seemed undeterred. His wife just kept shaking her head and mumbling something about him thinking he was still 30 or something. I also met four year old Kayla who was decked out in her UK cheerleading finest. She proceeded to tell me that I was a lot older than she thought but she guessed I still looked okay. But my favorite new friend was Sandra. Sandra is 88 years old and was visitng Nashville for her 6th SEC tournament. She got so excited when she told me she was here for the last one and got to sing Happy Birthday to Patrick Patterson. I hope that's me one day.
I even ended up scoring a spot in a suite (for FREE) at the last minute so I was even more excited. Free food, free alcohol, good company...what more could you want?
Well, it would have been nice if my team had won. Now I'm not going to get down on my team because I don't do that. I love them no matter what and I can't stand when people rant about how done they are with a team. I'd like to see you do half of what those 18 year olds down on the court are doing. I hope we make the NCAA but if we don't, we don't. I still bleed blue no matter what.
So, my weekend has freed up a bit since I had planned on spending part of today downtown. But, I have other exciting things to do, such as get ready to celebrate the birthday of one of my best friends in Nashville tonight! Perfect way to get over one disappointment is to move onto something that you know will be epic.
I also had time to finish up an article I'm submitting to ThoughtCatalog. It's about Yankee Candles. Trust me. It's a good one. Keep an eye out for it...hopefully it will be shared with the world. I just hope the person it's about never reads it because I doubt we'd continue to email four times a week. Fingers crossed.
Enjoy this lovely Saturday, and as always, GO CATS!
Anyway, I walked around downtown yesterday during my lunch break and met a lot of new friends. There was Tom from Versailles who tried to buy me a shot of bourbon on the street. Now, there were no bourbon vendors on the street, nor would have I accepted a shot since it was 11 a.m. and I had to go back to work, but Tom seemed undeterred. His wife just kept shaking her head and mumbling something about him thinking he was still 30 or something. I also met four year old Kayla who was decked out in her UK cheerleading finest. She proceeded to tell me that I was a lot older than she thought but she guessed I still looked okay. But my favorite new friend was Sandra. Sandra is 88 years old and was visitng Nashville for her 6th SEC tournament. She got so excited when she told me she was here for the last one and got to sing Happy Birthday to Patrick Patterson. I hope that's me one day.
I even ended up scoring a spot in a suite (for FREE) at the last minute so I was even more excited. Free food, free alcohol, good company...what more could you want?
Well, it would have been nice if my team had won. Now I'm not going to get down on my team because I don't do that. I love them no matter what and I can't stand when people rant about how done they are with a team. I'd like to see you do half of what those 18 year olds down on the court are doing. I hope we make the NCAA but if we don't, we don't. I still bleed blue no matter what.
So, my weekend has freed up a bit since I had planned on spending part of today downtown. But, I have other exciting things to do, such as get ready to celebrate the birthday of one of my best friends in Nashville tonight! Perfect way to get over one disappointment is to move onto something that you know will be epic.
I also had time to finish up an article I'm submitting to ThoughtCatalog. It's about Yankee Candles. Trust me. It's a good one. Keep an eye out for it...hopefully it will be shared with the world. I just hope the person it's about never reads it because I doubt we'd continue to email four times a week. Fingers crossed.
Enjoy this lovely Saturday, and as always, GO CATS!
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