A Zesty Enterprise

Moms and daughters

2011-06-06T20:45:00.002-05:00

My mom used to tell me (often when we looked at my baby photos or watched the old 8MM films of me as a baby) that she wished I could have met my baby self. I now believe I have. Sometimes holding my baby girl, I feel like I'm meeting myself -- like I'm looking into a mirror that shows the past. It's not just her physical resemblance to me (which I think is concentrated on the bottom half of her face -- and her hair) but certain mannerisms and expressions.

And even though I really don't resemble my mother at all, I've started to look like her in more and more photos since I became a mom.

Maybe next time I need new glasses, I'll pick out some 1970s specials to make the circle complete.

Some thoughts pre-delivery

2011-04-30T11:07:00.010-05:00

But not from me...from my mom's journal. She wrote this entry (this is not the whole thing, just an excerpt) when I was almost three years old.

Then, one day, it became a reality -- am I or am I not pregnant? Then, will it be alright, followed by doctors, tests, hospitals, results!! A fine, healthy little girl -- Perfect -- of course she is perfect -- always was -- beautiful, everything in its right place.

The night she was born, 9.15 pm, I lost count of the time after 12 noon Saturday 29th October, false labor had begun on Friday about 4 am -- twinges, small irregular contractions -- too excited to sleep. I knew I was supposed to rest up for the main event, but I couldn't think of sleep, impossible -- my daughter was about to come out into the world -- I would actually touch her, kiss her, count her fingers and toes. Would she be fair like me or darker like Sal? Would she have blue eyes or brown? A lot of hair or bald? What weight would she be? More important than anything, would she be OK? Would the actual birth be natural or caeserian, and would I be able to go thru labor without sedation?

All day Friday -- waiting, timing, not eating in case things really got started in a hurry. Friday night, Sal home from work, I'm still here, pains still not 5 minutes apart 12 times in a row, the prerequisit for admission into hospital. Friday evening Rose & Joe came over but I couldn't entertain them properly, my world was suddenly limited to me, my baby and Sal, in that order. There was room for nobody else, only us three, about to be united, a family -- THE family.

According to the current plan, I will be going to the hospital on Tuesday to meet our little girl. A couple of factors have rendered it preferable to schedule it instead of waiting for nature to take its course, but even though I probably won't be having the labor experience my mother had, I can identify with her thoughts and feelings as she was on the threshold of meeting her long-awaited baby girl.

Here's hoping she's as perfect as I was. :)

Heavy thoughts

2011-02-16T13:37:00.002-05:00

Sometimes (usually during the workday - shhh!) I check out certain websites/blogs as a little mental getaway. I used to like FML, but after a while it became a little too negative for me. Then I learned about Gives Me Hope and Makes Me Think. (Thanks, Meg!) GMH is a bit too cloying sometimes, so lately I favor MMT. Even if not all the submissions do make me think, they're generally interesting to read. But I was just noticing that there are a few major recurring themes across these submissions. One is self-harming. Another is suicide. A third is parents rejecting their kid because the kid is gay, or otherwise "different." (It seems like most of these are written by the kid -- the kid who self-mutilates, or considered suicide, or came out to his/her parents.)

And as a future parent, these really upset me. When I was a kid I was barely aware of any of this stuff. Even as a teenager, I don't think I knew there was such a thing as "cutting". I knew there was suicide in the world, but I didn't know anyone personally who had attempted it, committed it, or been affected by a loved one doing so. I vaguely knew about homophobia but it wasn't part of my life. I knew some gay people when I was in high school, and lots more once I got to college and beyond, but it wasn't a big deal to me and from what I could tell, it wasn't a big deal to my parents either.

I'm not worried about being that parent who turns her kids out on the street for being who they are (as long as who they are isn't an animal abuser -- that's another story), nor even worried about making it clear to them that I don't care if they're gay or want to wear their hair in blue spikes (at a reasonable age) or whatever. I hope that I can do as good a job of raising them to be open-minded as my parents did raising me. I want them to be as puzzled and as horrified as I am that there are people in the world who actually disown their loved ones for such things.

But I am a bit worried about all this self-harming and depression/suicide stuff. From things I've read and seen (granted, mostly fiction), it seems like sometimes even if the kid is raised in a loving home, something just leads him/her to these self-destructive thoughts and behaviors, and sometimes the parents are last to know. Why are so many kids so depressed, and why was I so completely unaware of it when I was their age? If I could at least relate to it, it would give me as basis for dealing with it from the parental side (if, heaven forbid, I need to one day), but I'm at a total loss. I would never have said I was "sheltered" growing up -- I mean, I grew up in New York City, took the subway to high school every day with a diverse group of kids (albeit all nerds), had an after-school job, even experimented with a little underage drinking and smoking, all the usual stuff -- so was all this going on around me and I was clueless, or is it that it's a lot more prevalent these days? And do sites like MMT make this sort of thing seem more common than it really is, because these troubled kids gravitate toward them?

I don't want to be a helicopter parent, but I want to be involved enough to at least maybe have a chance of being clued in to whether my kid is about to slit her wrists.

I can't believe I am already worrying about this stuff when she won't even be born for another couple of months. Welcome to parenthood, I guess.

It's a...

2011-01-21T14:41:00.004-05:00

...baby who will be wearing things like this!

The (very wrinkled) zippered onesie was mine when I was a baby. The Lilly Pulitzer cardigan I bought for a friend when I thought (hoped) she might be having a girl. Her son is almost 7 now and I decided to keep it in case I myself ever had a girl. And now I am! (Bonus: the cardigan was purchased in Nantucket!)

El Duderino? Dudette?

2010-12-14T11:16:00.008-05:00

As I mentioned in my last post (wow, less than a month ago!), I have a lot to be thankful for this year. Chiefly: the baby the Dude and I are expecting in the spring.

Nope, we don't know yet whether it's a boy or girl. We may find out in January, but this baby has already shown itself to be capricious.

(Shout-out to Gabe for the blog post title suggestion.)

Giving thanks

2010-11-24T10:49:00.003-05:00

I have a lot to be thankful for this year. Being a prolific blogger is not one of them. :)

Until I return (before the end of this year, I promise!), entertain yourselves with this quiz and have a blessed Thanksgiving with loved ones.

(I am the stuffing: "You're complicated and complex, yet all your pieces fit together. People miss you if you're gone - but they're not sure why.")

One year later

2010-06-03T11:54:00.009-05:00

This is my fourth "one year" post, but for once, it's not about death. (Imagine that!) This time it's a happy anniversary: our first wedding anniversary!

When planning our wedding, we had debated where to go for our honeymoon. A European cruise was one of our top choices, but in the end we decided that would be too active when all we'd want to do, after hectic wedding planning, was rest. So we opted for a Caribbean beach stay then and soon thereafter decided we'd do the Europe cruise for our anniversary. Honestly, I was itching to plan the Next Big Thing as soon as we got back from our honeymoon. :)

We had cruised before so we knew we both liked the whole setup, although our first cruise was way too short at five nights. For our anniversary trip we chose a twelve-nighter, also on Royal Caribbean as was our first one. (After the first cruise we were "gold members" and got some onboard perks...after a few more it's platinum level!) It was a Barcelona roundtrip with port calls in Cannes, Livorno (Pisa), Civitavecchia (Rome), Naples, Venice, Dubrovnik, and Corfu. Well, we had to skip Naples as swells prevented our ship from getting positioned safely for passengers to get off, but we visited and enjoyed the rest of the ports of call.

This was on our anniversary itself. I get a kick out of being able to say we spent our wedding anniversary on the French Riviera! Fancy!

We were both enchanted by the Colosseum in Rome.

The ship had a masquerade ball after the Venice visit; carnival masks are sold pretty much everywhere you go in Venice.

The brave or bored can go here to view the whole album...all 350 photos.

All in all, it was a terrific way to spend our anniversary. Now...what's next??

OK, I am old

2010-04-14T13:16:00.002-05:00

I still feel young most of the time, but something happened recently to bridge the gap a bit.

One of my favorite old-standby novels to reread when I want something familiar and comforting and fun is Wifey, by Judy Blume. I love all her "adult" novels (which description always sounds to me like they are porn...and they do all have some sexytime in them but are NOT porn) but sometimes Wifey is the easiest and most fun re-read for me.

When I first read it (as a teenager, maybe?) the protagonist, Sandy, seemed very old to me. She was a housewife with two kids and had been married for twelve years.

As I picked it up to re-read a month or so ago, I thought, "wait a minute...isn't Sandy...32? OMG. I'm 32. I'm Sandy's age!"

I'm old enough to theoretically have been married twelve years and have two kids old enough to be away at summer camp! Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Most pathetic Oscars watch yet

2010-03-05T14:07:00.003-05:00

Often I am really into the awards season, watching the Golden Globes with a decent amount of interest and then becoming very excited for the Oscars. Why, three years ago at this time I could barely stand the suspense over how many awards The Departed would win.

This year, I missed the Globes completely. I literally had no idea they were on until the following day when I heard radio reports of who won what. And I just realized yesterday that the Oscars are this Sunday.

I will watch, but I wish I had more of an idea of what was going on. I don't think I've ever seen all the nominated films, but I've done better than this year. The only movies I've seen this year that are nominated for anything are Up, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and Julie & Julia. I think I'm going to see Precious this weekend, so at least I will have one more going in.

Either way, I like the red-carpet part!

Forever young

2010-03-03T12:23:00.003-05:00

When do we start feeling like "grown-ups?" Anyone got any thoughts? Because I'm 32 and haven't gotten there yet.

I always feel like a "kid." I refer to females my age as "girls," not "women." (Guys are lucky that they have the age-neutral term "guys.") I thought getting married might make me feel like I'd crossed that line from childhood to adulthood, but no. You might think losing both parents and selling the house I grew up in -- things I'd normally consider "adult" responsibilities -- would have gotten me there, but no. My husband is about to turn 40, which definitely sounds adult to me, and yet...nope. The other day, a friend told me she was in an interview situation and the person interviewing her told my friend she liked her shoes. My first thought was, "was she our age or a grown-up?" How can a 32-year-old woman* think this way?

I'm terrible with kids because I think I am still one of them, not an authority figure. I'd like to think that (someday) having my own kids might push me across that threshold, but I bet not. Grandkids?

And...does it matter? Most people seem to admire a sense of youthfulness in an older person. But there might be questions of appropriateness to consider; I don't want to be the middle-aged fool who doesn't know how to act her age.

I guess it's nothing to fret over right now. I just wonder sometimes if I'll ever stop feeling like a kid playing house.

* And yes, that felt unnatural to type in reference to myself.

Time flies

2010-02-22T10:23:00.009-05:00

I just realized that last week marked the fourth anniversary of my starting this blog. Since I don't keep up with it that regularly, I sometimes forget how long it's been around and how many major life changes it has chronicled.

When I started this blog four years ago:

I had been dating the Dude for about six weeks
I was driving a 2000 Ford Focus
I lived in an apartment in Maryland with just Mr. Kitty
I had two living parents
I had just gotten an iPod but had nothing on it yet
Hoyden had a sweet hubby
I was working at a boutique law firm

Now:

I've been married to the Dude for just over nine months
I drive a 2006 Mazda3 after totalling the Focus
I've moved three times -- to an apartment in Virginia with Mr. Kitty, then into the Dude's townhouse with my parents' cats whom he adopted, and then with Dude and three cats into our single-family home
Both my parents are gone (no one link -- the whole damn blog has been about that since July 2006)
I own the same iPod, with the same set of music that a coworker loaded onto it for me in February 2006, and have used it about four times in these four years
Hoyden's a free agent since her hubby turned sour
I work for the government

Will this blog still be around in February 2014? And if so, what will have transpired between now and then? It's hard to imagine quite as much will have changed. Unless something really funky happens, I shouldn't be moving, marrying, or losing any more parents. My iPod situation will probably remain static. I can envision a vehicle change in that time. I imagine the main theme for the next few years will be the expanding of families, as many of my friends are having kids, or recently had them, or will soon have them. We're not there yet ourselves, but I'm sure our family situation will be different in four years' time in one way or another.

Here's to this blog changing from the Death Blog to the New Life Blog in years to come!

It's not business, it's personal

2009-12-28T13:11:00.005-05:00

I have something to rant about, and I'm not sure where else I can do it. I don't want it to be perceived as directed at any particular person, which it might be if I wrote it on Facebook or the like. Here goes:

I hate getting nonpersonalized holiday cards.

You know the ones. Usually, these days, a single-panel photocard with a greeting and signature all pre-printed. Not one pen mark on the thing, front or back.

Sometimes, it's a traditional folding card but the sender's name is signed at the bottom with no indication whom it's to. It's clear that these senders just went through and signed their entire stack of cards assembly-line style and stuffed them into envelopes.

In both cases, the message is that the sender only thought about the recipient long enough to write the recipient's name and address on the envelope -- unless that was automated, too, in which case there was only as much thought as it takes to make a label-merge document. Or to reprint last year's labels.

I don't understand it. Holiday cards are not mandatory; they're optional means of telling people in your life that you're thinking of them during the holidays. If you cannot take the time to write "Dear ___," and sign your name in each card, perhaps holiday cards are not for you.

My mother wrote many, many holiday cards every year. And every year, she put in a "Dear __" line and a few words before signing at the bottom. Oh, wait -- I lied. There was one year in our overlapping lifetimes that she did not: her final Christmas. She was too weak and tired from her cancer and her chemo, so she just signed at the bottom. Just that once. She said to me, "I hope people will understand."

I wrote 107 holiday cards this year. In each and every one, I wrote a "Dear __" line at the top and a personalized sentence or two before signing at the bottom. If I didn't think the recipient merited that courtesy, I didn't send them a card at all.

I realize I'm in the minority on this, given that fully 1/3 of the cards I received this year fell into one of these categories (all-preprinted photocard panel or assembly-line-signed folding card). But I had to get it out. Receiving such a card from you does not make me feel thought-of during this holiday season. It makes me feel like an obligation.

The years without a Christmas

2009-12-18T13:59:00.008-05:00

Yay, it's time yet again for me to whine about being an orphan!

I have a friend who flat-out hates Christmas because it makes her miss her late mom so much. I totally understand that, but it's not the case for me. Personally I don't and, so far, can't hate Christmas. But I gotta say, since they've been gone, it just hasn't been the same.

I feel like I try and try, so hard, every year. (This is only my third dadless Christmas and fourth momless, so "every year" isn't really as dramatic as it sounds.) I put up the tree, and decorate it. I throw decorations all over the house; it looks like a tinsel factory exploded. I carefully set up my (mom's) Nativity set, and defend it to all the infidels who criticize its scope -- you know who you are. (The Dude claims emphatically that Luke Skywalker was not at the birth of Jesus.) (I retort that there is no Luke Skywalker piece and indeed every figure in my set is a Biblical figure.) (Other wiseacres chime in, "where does the Bible mention cats?") (I say dignifiedly, "I'm not up on my Bible studies but each figure came with a description of how they fit into Biblical times, so I'm sure they have it on good authority that cats were present.") (OK, I do admit that St. Francis of Assisi's life did not in fact overlap with Jesus's. But he's my favorite saint, so, bugger off.) (And why the hell shouldn't I hide baby Jesus in the loft until Christmas morning? In this tableau he hasn't been born yet, people. But I digress.)

I write and send dozens (maybe hundreds; I need to get this year's final count) of Christmas cards. Well, "holiday" cards, since several of them go to non-Christians. I buy too many gifts and wrap them reasonably festively, choosing from a way-too-large array of wrapping paper designs. (I've never understood people whose gifts are all wrapped in the same paper. I don't object to the idea, but I know I'll never get down to just one roll. I'm still rotating between rolls bought in the 80s.)

I listen to Christmas music until I can't stand another minute. (If I have to hear one more version of "My Grown-Up Christmas List" I'm gonna lose it.) I dig out my cheesy Christmas earrings and lapel pins. I bake cookies, even, sometimes. But I just don't feel it.

Sure, the "magic" of Christmas from childhood tends to dissipate once we're older -- we become surly teenagers who think everything is lame, then adults whose parents have to wake us up Christmas morning because we'd rather sleep 'til noon than get up at 5 a.m. to open presents like when we were kids. (Or was that just me?)

But even up until and through the Christmas of 2006, I still felt Christmas. I still did most of the old routine that we honed over almost 30 years as a family. I went to Mass on Christmas Eve in the same church, sitting in the same part of the church, as I had every year I could remember. I watched the Sesame Street Christmas special like I did every Christmas Eve after Mass (on the same rickety old VHS tape we recorded it on when I was little). I still had a little spark of excitement when I woke up the next morning and realized, "ooh! It's Christmas!" Even with my mom gone that year, and my dad super-depressed because of it, the two of us made a point of keeping things as much the same as we could, and it worked for me. I woke up in the same bed I'd woken up in every single Christmas morning of my life. (Well, I probably woke up in a crib the first few years.) I had as ridiculous a number of presents to open as ever, because my parents were insane (and it was always mostly my dad anyway, and with my mom gone he just bought that much extra for me). I put on the Christmas music and dad and I settled into "our spots" in the living room and tore into our loot. Dad and I argued over which of our new movies we'd watch first on Christmas Day. It was the same exact routine every year.

I don't think I realized, even that last year, how much I loved and, truly, needed that simple routine. Dad died eight months later and one of the very first things I did after he died was make plans to go away for Christmas. What I wanted to do was go back to my empty house alone, but even then I knew that was too macabre. So I decided to splurge and take a trip. It was fine, but it wasn't Christmas to me. Then last year it was The Dude's "turn" (since he'd come with me instead of hanging with his family in 2007) and we went to his parents' house. This year he recognized I might exercise my prerogative to go away again, but I decided we could stay in town, with the caveat that I wanted to wake up in my own bed (not at his parents' house). So we've arranged that to everyone's satisfaction and I'm pretty pleased with the plan. It should be a nice couple of days. But it won't feel like Christmas.

I'm not sure what else I can do to feel the old Christmas feeling. I guess the first step will be to let go of the idea that the only true Christmas (for me) is the one I grew up with, because that is gone. It is not coming back, because it is inextricably linked to people who are no longer living and a house that is no longer mine.

People say their kids' Christmas excitement is contagious. I hope that is the case if/when we have kids. I suppose I will have to (continue to) fake Christmas spirit to get theirs going, and then hopefully one year they will start being excited for Christmas without my assistance, and then hopefully they can get me excited. Maybe eventually it will stop feeling forced.

For the birds

2009-12-07T15:13:00.005-05:00

I never took much notice of birds before. In New York, as far as I could tell, it was mostly pigeons. Actually, now that I think about it, we often heard exotic calls in our small, overgrown (Queens) backyard, which my mom and I referred to as "the rain forest," but I never saw anything but pigeons. And ducks and geese, if we went to "the country" (like, Westchester).

A year or two into living in the DC area, I had an encounter that charmed me. I drove into DC on a weekend (for some Bar class I think) and parked in my firm's parking garage. As I got out of the car, a little bird flew over to me and started looking around expectantly. I said (yes, out loud), "oh, let me go upstairs to the office and get you some crackers!" I did, and when I got back to my car, I didn't see the bird. Dejected, I called, "little bird! Where'd you go?" and it flew over to me from a rafter. It was so cute! (Sadly, it did not like the crackers.)

The Dude's mom and aunt are into birds, and they've rubbed off on me a bit. His parents have several bird feeders in their backyard, set up for easy viewing through their picture window. It mesmerizes me whenever I'm at their house -- especially seeing so many colorful birds stopping by. Maybe cardinals are fairly ordinary, but they seem very exotic to me.

His mom gave me a spare window feeder she had, and I set it up a few months ago without any takers. Then they got me a fancy stand-alone feeder setup for my birthday. The Dude and I didn't get it installed until a couple weeks after my birthday, so about three weeks ago. We were both disappointed that no birds were coming, but his mom and aunt told us they eventually would find us.

And finally they have!

And the piece de resistance:

Unfortunately it's a fuzzy photo, but -- a cardinal!

The Supremes

2009-11-12T10:23:00.004-05:00

The big excitement around here recently was not, as I'd expected, my 32nd birthday (although that was very nicely celebrated over the course of several days and indeed, more celebrations are still to come), but instead my admission to the Bar of the Supreme Court of the United States. It's quite a simple thing to achieve: be a member in good standing of the Bar of a state (or DC) for three years, and have two current Supreme Court Bar members sponsor you. You can elect to be admitted by written motion (boring) or in open court (awesome). Some people do this so that they can submit briefs (and, potentially, argue) to the Supreme Court, but many of us do it "just because."

It was very exciting to be escorted to the front of the Courtroom and chat with the Clerk of the Court (who wears tails to work) while awaiting the Justices' entrance. When they filed in at exactly 10 a.m., the first order of business was admissions. I was first, presumably because my new last name puts me close to the front of the alphabet. They called up my movant (one of my sponsors) and he read the scripted speech to the Chief Justice. The Chief Justice said his motion was granted and then turned to me and said I was admitted. They did the same for the rest of the day's admissions and then we, our movants, and our guests (one each) got to stay for the first case.

I've always be kind of obsessed with the Supreme Court so this was truly a thrill. I blame my mom. She always thought it was the coolest; when I was born, the doctor said I'd be the first woman president and my mother said, "No, they shoot presidents in this country; she'll be the first woman Supreme Court Justice." Well, SDO beat me to that pretty soon thereafter, and I don't think even becoming the fourth is on the radar for me anymore; still, I know my mom would have been really proud on the day of my admission. And if she were alive, I hope the Dude would have understood when I chose my mom as my one guest. Knowing her, she would have found a way to get chatting with some of the Justices -- finding them outside on a smoke break or accidentally walking into their offices when looking for a bathroom.

I'm now trying to convince my other lawyer friends and coworkers to do this. I'm hoping one of them will have me move their admission so I can have a turn at addressing the Court. Even if not, I should use my new status to attend more oral arguments there. (There's a limited number of seats for Supreme Court Bar members, so it's still not guaranteed, but perhaps easier than waiting in the public line.)

Admission information here, for any of you who are interested!

Is this kosher?

2009-09-17T08:59:00.001-05:00

Mr. Kitty is not concerned with appearing ladylike.

Time milestones

2009-07-22T13:17:00.005-05:00

I hate that this blog has become all-depression-all-the-time, with the occasional digression into wedding stuff. I swear there is more to my life than death and weddings.

That said -- today marks the anniversary of the passing of a friend's fiance. He was so young and succumbed to cancer just months before their wedding was to be. While I mourn the loss of my parents constantly, I cannot even fathom losing a fiance or spouse so young. Parents are "supposed" to go first; 20-somethings with their whole lives ahead of them are not supposed to go. So, I'm sending good vibes to that friend today.

In happier news, today is also the 18-monthiversary of the Dude's and my engagement. He thinks I'm insane for mentioning all these -versaries and contends that now that we're married, the only -versary we should observe is our wedding anniversary. But what fun is that?

Actually, the Dude is interested in a different anniversary these days: the one-year mark since we moved into our new house, which I'll have to stop calling "new" sometime soon. He thinks the fact that we've been here a year means we ought to be fully unpacked. Ridiculous!

Unhappy anniversary

2009-07-07T09:19:00.007-05:00

The worst day of my life was July 7, 2006.

If asked, my official answer would probably be July 6, 2006 -- the day my mother died. However, she died after 9 that night, and while the moment I learned of her death will haunt me forever (due in no small part to the fact that the news came via a voicemail from a nurse at the hospital who said she was sorry to inform me my mother had "expired"), the rest of that evening was too frenzied to allow the fact to really sink in. I was booking travel, calling/emailing/IMing/texting people, and packing. I did sneak off to sit in "my mother's" closet in my apartment and wail for a spell while the Dude was asleep, but mostly I was just in shock. (My mother never lived in that apartment with me -- never even saw it -- but she was supposed to come stay with me for an extended period after getting out of the hospital and her room was all ready.)

The 7th, though, was a long and painful day. I'd slept for a total of about 20 minutes when the Dude and I headed to the airport for an early (6 a.m. or so?) shuttle to Laguardia. I spent that flight looking through photo negatives (which I'd grabbed from boxes of photos and stuffed haphazardly into a manila envelope in the hours before) to find a suitable photo of my mom that I could get enlarged and frame for the wake, knowing she'd wanted a closed casket and figuring there ought to be some visual representation of her there. (I came up with the one shown at the end of this post, which everyone seemed to like.)

A friend picked us up from the airport and dropped us off at my parents' (except now it was just my dad's) house. Dad seemed his usual noneffusive self, until the Dude expressed his condolences to him, at which point my dad broke down just for a moment. I tried to hug him but we both knew it was ineffectual, and unnatural-feeling since we were not huggers -- at least, not with each other.

Almost immediately, the Dude and I drove my dad's clunker up to the main shopping street so I could get the photo enlarged and printed. I initially wanted to go to this specialized photo/framing shop that I liked, but it wasn't open -- and fair enough, as it was still only about 8 a.m. We sat on a bench and waited a while in case it was to open soon, and while there, several friends and acquaintances passed by -- something I used to both love and hate about where I grew up. They were on their way to work (it was a Friday), or out running errands, as if the world were still turning and nothing was wrong. I put on a brave face. Finally we decided the shop wasn't going to open anytime soon, and walked down the block to the Rite Aid photo counter. The lady behind the counter pleasantly helped with my request but she had no idea what it meant. I wanted to shout, "this is for my MOTHER'S WAKE. Do you get that? My MOTHER is DEAD! How can you not realize the enormity of this??" Instead I picked up a few things in the aisles of the drugstore and went to check out at the pharmacy register, where one of my mother's friends often worked. Indeed, I found her on duty that morning. She had not heard the news: "how's your mom doing?" "Well...actually...she passed away last night..." and I dissolved into tears right there in the drugstore. People behind me might have thought I was crying about whatever ailment had brought me to the pharmacy counter.

Afterward, we drove to the hospital to collect my mother's things. I fought back tears as I asked several people where to go -- first the front-desk guard, then a nurses' station on the floor the guard had directed me to, then someone in the ICU where the nurse had directed me. Finally I left with my mother's purse and the other assorted articles she'd had at the hospital with her for all those months -- some clothes, slippers, reading material, and her prized possession: the album I'd made for her of our Australia trip a few months prior. She'd shown it to anyone who stopped by her hospital bed for more than a moment, and when I'd visit, we'd look through it together, even though we'd both seen all the photos dozens of times by then. From the hospital I drove us to the river, just to sit for a bit (and to show the Dude the view of Manhattan and the Bronx). I went through her purse as we sat on a bench by the water, separating the important pieces (non-driver's license, social security card) from the junk. It felt both like a violation and like the most natural thing in the world.

The next item on the agenda was going to the funeral home with my dad. The Dude stayed behind at our house and rested. The arrangements were made swiftly, for a viewing that very evening and the funeral the next morning. We didn't have to involve the cemetery because my mom wanted to be cremated.

By this time I felt like I'd been through the wringer and it wasn't even noon.

I don't remember exactly what we did the rest of the day -- the Dude checked into his hotel nearby, I puttered around (picking up the photo, buying a frame to put it in, framing some other photos to display at the wake, and bringing all that plus some of my mom's clothes to the funeral home), and my dad worked the phones. He was better at delivering the news coherently than I was. I think I tried to take a nap at some point in there but I couldn't sleep.

Although my mom wanted a closed casket, the funeral home offered us the option to have a private viewing before they closed it and let everyone else into the room. We decided to do this, and I'm still not sure if it was a good idea. On one hand, it helped us (at least, me) to see her one more time, but on the other, it left us all in a blubbering heap just as everyone else started to file in to pay their respects. It was me, my dad, my godmother, and the Dude. The Dude barely even knew my mom, but he still wept at the raw emotion coming from the rest of us upon saying goodbye to her body before the lid closed. Although they hadn't done a great job on her (she wasn't embalmed or worked on much, but they tried to arrange her jaw and mouth the way they thought it should look, and it was all wrong), seeing and touching her cold lifeless body really drove it home for me. I placed her beloved Australia photo album at her side and a rosary in her folded hands.

The rest of the night consisted of greeting visitors and enduring neverending assurances of "she's at peace now" and various other platitudes from well-intentioned mourners. I kept it together pretty well (not that I had to, or even should have, but I have a problem breaking down in front of other people, and was already embarrassed enough having done so at the store and at the private viewing) most of the night, until some of my mom's friends started telling me how proud she had always been of me.

The Dude and I went to the diner for a late meal after the wake was over, and I spent most of it bitching about a couple of good friends of mine who hadn't turned up despite saying they were coming. It felt good to be angry instead of just impenetrably sad.

I dropped him off at his hotel and I went back to the house, where I'd decided to stay that night. My dad was dozing off in front of the TV like any other night, and I used his computer to check my email and scan in the photo of my mom to order some blank notecards of it, for thank-yous. I was by now a master of the "silent cry" and tears ran down my face the entire hour or so that I was online. Finally I figured I should go to bed, but once I was lying there in my childhood bedroom, it struck me that I would never again wake up in this bed to my mom cooking breakfast, fondly shooing the cats out of her path, or sneaking a smoke at the bathroom window. I cried those huge, heaving, hiccuping sobs usually reserved for children, until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open any longer.

July 7, 2006, was an exhausting day of loss, pain, and finality. At least July 6 I woke up knowing I had a mother -- indeed, one who was supposedly "doing better" at the hospital. And July 6, her suffering ended, so in a way that was a good day for her. But for those of us left behind, July 7 was the crushing first day of the rest of our lives.

I think I'm heartless

2009-06-23T08:59:00.002-05:00

I've learned something about myself over the years, and I was reminded of it yesterday: I don't care much about large-scale disasters unless they directly affect my life.

Yesterday afternoon/evening, there was a horrendous Metro accident here in DC. I learned of it via the radio on my drive home, which does not take me anywhere near the accident site. Even when I used to take Metro to work, I did take that line, but on the opposite end.

I could think of one person I "know" (and I don't even know him personally, but he's my friend's husband) who takes that end of that line, so I texted my friend to make sure her hubby was OK, and he was. That was the extent of my interest in it. Sure, I felt saddened by the loss of life, but I didn't need to keep hearing about it over and over.

When 9/11 happened, many people were glued to the 24/7 TV coverage of the disaster. I watched at first just to find out what the hell was happening, since our classes were abruptly canceled and it was raining ash outside, but once I did find out what had happened and how it affected me, I was no longer interested in the news coverage.

Am I terrible?

I guess I just don't see what good it's going to do me to watch hour after hour of coverage, where things quickly descend into the repetitious and sensational. I learn the facts, I discern how those facts affect me, and then I figure I'll hear of any changes when I next turn on the radio the following day -- or someone will call or email me if there's some breaking update that does affect me in some way.

I can't decide if it makes me awfully selfish or just...depression-avoidant. I also can't decide whether it matters.

So, I'm married

2009-06-03T12:00:00.005-05:00

Just barely married:

Intro as husband and wife, leading into first dance:

Our fabulous (and delicious!) cake:

Catching up with old friends:

And relaxing in the tropics afterward:

I just can't believe it's all over. However, I say that with a feeling of relief, not of longing. I know some people miss all the excitement once their wedding is over; some feel at a loss for what to look forward to next. I enjoyed designing our celebration and, sure, the attention one gets as a bride-to-be, but I can also honestly say I'm glad it's behind me. There are, and always will be, other things to focus my energies on.

And gosh, being married just feels so...peaceful. Like I've been blessed with a feeling of contentment. I suppose it might be the security of the commitment -- as if now we can just sit back and be ourselves more freely or something, like we don't need to try so hard. Not that I lived in constant fear that the Dude would leave me or something until we had it in writing that we were joined, and not that I'm taking marriage as a sign to just "let go," since I know (well, I've heard) marriage requires constant work and attention. But it just feels good, and easy. (Easy enough for me to say that three weeks in!)

Showered again!

2009-04-21T10:48:00.004-05:00

A great group of ladies (and babies) in the NYC area threw me a fabulous bridal shower last weekend. Good food, drinks, and generosity abounded.

Prayers for friends unmet

2009-04-07T12:58:00.003-05:00

I love the internet. Through it I've made friends with many people I probably never would have crossed paths with otherwise. Some of those I've eventually met in person, some not.

One of my earlier "online-only" friends was/is Sarah Parker. We have a mutual "in-person" friend, Tracey, and Sarah and I became online-friendly via Tracey's blog and eventually Facebook. Now, even though I've never met Sarah or her family, I'm feeling very personally affected by the struggle her family is going through right now.

Sarah and her husband have three kids -- twin boys (7, I think?) and 4-year-old Trinity. Trinity is in the hospital now fighting for her life. Read about her struggle (and see what a cutie she is) here.

I'm not even much of a praying sort, and I'm still praying for Trinity and the rest of the Parkers. If you're reading this, I hope you will too.

I don't know...

2009-03-25T10:30:00.001-05:00

You Are Cowboy Boots

You are incredibly down to earth and happy with yourself. You don't pretend to be someone else.

You also tend to be very practical. You don't really have a lot of room for fluff in your life.

You are a very honest and direct person. You will give anyone a straight answer, even if it's a bit uncomfortable.

While you're quite sensible, you always like a little bit of flash in your life. You don't overdo it, but you do like turning heads.

What Kind of Boots Are You?

Showered!

2009-03-23T13:29:00.003-05:00

I was bridally showered by a wonderful group of DC-area ladies this weekend!

(The Dude was the only dude there and he only showed up near the end, to get some cake, see his family (which comprised about half the room), and haul gifts out to the car.)

Anniversaries

2009-03-16T07:50:00.002-05:00

Thirty-four years ago today, my parents got married.

Two months from today, the Dude and I will get married.

And a year from today will be the first birthday of a friend's baby who is about to emerge into the world any minute now.

Spoke too soon

2009-03-13T10:29:00.002-05:00

This morning:

Sigh.

What can I say?

2009-03-12T13:53:00.007-05:00

Monday:

Friday:

OK, maybe not quite. But it did go from almost a foot of snow (that, up top, was the view out our front door) to over 70 degrees in the span of a workweek.

By the way, isn't that second photo (which I got by image-Googling "tropical") the picture young Ellie drew of Pensacola in Contact?

Anyway...I could use the planning of My Big Fat Nondenominational Nonethnic Wedding as an excuse for not having blogged, but that's really not the reason. I just haven't felt that there's been much to say. It seems most of the blogs I follow these days only have frequent posts because the bloggers are expectant parents or new parents. When all else fails, they can post more ultrasound, belly, or baby photos, and satisfy their readers. Somehow I don't think I can get away with posting quite that many cat photos. And I haven't felt like posting wedding-planning photos because most of the details are either not interesting enough to post about or are so interesting that I want to keep them a secret.

So for now I'll follow Henry Higgins' advice in My Fair Lady, and stick to two subjects: the weather and everybody's health. The weather, I opened with. My health: fine, except I am severely deficient in vitamin D so I'm on a super mega-dose supplement. In two months and a few days from now, I will be lounging in a scene much like Pensacola up there (with my husband -- whoa) and hopefully getting my D the natural way.

This concludes my random ramblings for now.

New year, new furniture

2009-01-06T12:49:00.004-05:00

OK, technically, the new furniture was purchased last year...but it was delivered this year!

After several months of sitting in mismatched armchairs in the family room (and thus having nowhere to seat guests) and of china being in storage containers on the dining room floor, we now have...

1) real family-room seating:

and 2) real dining-room storage furniture:

And here is the china, finally out of storage!

Man, we're grown up!

All is calm

2008-12-24T08:50:00.005-05:00

After all that panicking -- it all came together. Of course.

Before:

(and imagine a bare mantel and foyer console table...)

After:

Merry Christmas to all.

Already?

2008-12-16T12:22:00.011-05:00

I know I sound like a grownup/mom saying this, but I cannot believe how quickly Christmas has come upon me this year.

Truly, as a kid, the wait for Christmas was interminable. I mean, it even took forever for just the Christmas season to start, which to me was basically December 1. I couldn't wait to help my mom write (well, she wrote, I sealed and stamped) the family Christmas cards, to display the received cards, to wrap presents, and of course, to put up the tree. The latter we normally didn't do until December 20-22; it involved moving furniture around in our cramped living room and my dad hated change.

In recent years -- say, since I've been living on my own -- I've enjoyed doing those tasks at a fairly leisurely pace. Some years I'd put up my (small, artificial) tree shortly after Thanksgiving, work on the cards in the first couple of weeks of December, and have a lot of fun wrapping gifts decoratively with festive music playing in the background.

So what's changed? Why do I feel so very far behind this year? I can't figure it out. My first guess was that it's different living with someone (other than parents), but actually I already lived with the Dude by last Christmastime. (I moved in with him Thanksgiving weekend.) Is it because this year I'm in our house instead of his? And that now that we're engaged and living in our long-term home, I feel more responsibility to do everything "right?" I just can't figure it. (I will say this: in the future I will not make big plans for two consecutive December weekends. I hadn't realized how much that would set me behind.)

Our household was festive last year.

And then I think: so what? I've gotten most of the cards out now (so they'll almost surely arrive before Christmas), I've (hastily) wrapped and mailed most of the out-of-town gifts, and our tree is up, just not yet decorated. I even put up my nativity display last week, and put some other little decorations around the house, and we've had the "candle" lights up in our front windows since Thanksgiving weekend. So why do I feel so overwhelmed?

I never fathomed how my mom could view Christmasy things as chores. And I never, ever wanted to feel that way myself. My dad and I called her "Scrooge" for at least the last five Christmases of her life because she got more and more stingy with the Christmas spirit. I don't want to be like that. I've always loved all these Christmas tasks.

I don't know what the answer is. I think next year I will try to budget my time better (and it might help that I won't be preoccupied with wedding planning at the same time) so that I can take the time to really enjoy doing these things, instead of rushing through them late at night just so I can get them done when I'm "supposed" to.

The motherland

2008-11-24T09:34:00.019-05:00

I guess I can, and do, call several places "the motherland." Recently I called New York that, and I would probably call Italy that too, although technically it's my fatherland. More legitimately I could call Australia that, since my mom grew up there. But perhaps the most accurate "motherland" for me is Britain, as it's the place of my mother's birth and ancestry. And I took a trip back there last month.

It was my third time going, but first as an adult and of course first since my mom died. I had been wanting to take a trip to Europe while GoudaGirl was still living there, but the plans kept falling through, until we found a specific excuse to make it happen: David Tennant performing Shakespeare in Stratford-upon-Avon. I got some tickets on eBay and cashed in some frequent-flyer miles for a roundtrip ticket to London. GoudaGirl got some (relatively) inexpensive flights between Amsterdam and England, arriving to and leaving from different airports (different from each other and different from either of my flights). We both ordered BritRail passes. The Dude declined to join me, especially since the trip was scheduled on a weekend after two straight weekends away (and one entire WEEK off work) for both of us. Probably for the best, as I wouldn't want his first/only trip to the UK to be as rushed and busy as this one was.

Upon arriving in London after an extremely uncomfortable red-eye, I hung around King's Cross awaiting GoudaGirl's arrival. King's Cross is one of the big train stations in London; I remembered it from my last trip there with my mom, but more recently it's become known worldwide as the station Harry Potter and classmates use to get to Hogwarts via the hidden Platform 9 3/4. Once I found GoudaGirl, we boarded a train to Newcastle where we changed for another train to Edinburgh. Unfortunately, there was construction/trackwork being done that forced the latter train to detour widely and made the trip longer than it usually is. I slept through a lot of it anyway.

In Edinburgh we checked into a hostel by the train station and met up with a friend of GoudaGirl's (also a former classmate of my own) who now lives there. We walked around, oohed and aahed over Edinburgh Castle and other points of interest, bought shoes (that was just me, and only out of necessity as the only shoes I'd brought with me decided to fall apart), and ate a wonderful dinner at a very cool vegetarian restaurant. By this time, I was about falling over from exhaustion (having not really slept at all the previous night) so before hitting a pub they dropped me back at the hostel, where I crashed instantly.

The following morning brought us to one of the parts of the trip that I was most excited about: taking a local train from Edinburgh to the little town about an hour away where my grandmother was born and raised. My mother had talked about it a lot too (she visited there and stayed with local cousins in the 1950s) and I had hoped to get to go there with her someday, but it never happened. (We did go to Edinburgh both other times I'd been to the UK so I'm not sure why we never took the extra few hours to visit the town.)

The train itself was the cleanest and most comfy one we were on during the entire trip, and the ride was, in my opinion, by far the most scenic. We crossed the Firth of Forth both ways, and coming back we were closer to the water, which was really pretty with the sun glinting off of it.

The town, Lochgelly in the sort-of-county of Fife, was very cute and quaint, although nothing but the supermarket was open, it being a Sunday. We shopped there for some lunch after hiking (literally -- it was very much uphill) to my grandmother's street.

Once we got back to Edinburgh, we took a different train down to Leeds in north-central England, where we stayed at an American-style hotel right by the train. (GoudaGirl has an amazing knack for knowing of cheap lodging steps from the train stations.) Leeds was a much bigger city than I expected, with tons of shopping. The next morning, we met up with one of my mother's old friends (whom my mom and I had stayed with for much of both of the trips we took to the UK when I was a kid) who lives about an hour away. GoudaGirl soon broke off and went ahead to Stratford while I stayed and lunched with the family friend. The photo here was taken in one of the fancy Leeds shopping arcades. After saying goodbye to my mom's friend, I took a series of trains to Stratford.

Stratford-upon-Avon is an adorable town with tudor architecture (my favorite) everywhere you turn. We stayed at a quaint bed-and-breakfast at the recommendation of a friend who stays there a lot with her family. I just had time to put my bags down and change before we headed over to the theater by way of a nice pre-theater dinner spot. The theater itself was quite intimate given how many huge stars perform there. (On Broadway I often feel like I'm watching the actors on screen even when they're in the same room with me just because the same room is often enormous and I'm usually at the farthest end of it from the famous people.) The play itself -- Love's Labour's Lost -- was really enjoyable, far more so than I'd expected. Afterward, GoudaGirl got some autographs (although not the "big one," which she did manage to get the following night when I'd already left for home).

We wandered back to our B&B through a Monday-night-quiet town, and the next morning I had to take the 9 a.m. train to get to London...for my 4:30 p.m. flight. Yeah. The series of trains was long enough and the schedule of trains leaving from Stratford sparse enough that I really could not leave any later. Well, in fact I probably could have, since I wound up with hours to kill at Heathrow, but that's why they invented duty-free shopping concourses. I also coughed up the extra forty-something pounds (around $100) to upgrade to an economy plus seat going back, since my knees were still bruised from the trip over. Worth every shilling.

Some thought I was a little nuts to just shoot across an ocean for a long weekend, but that's pretty much my typical approach to travel, and I don't regret it at all. I think I've even convinced the Dude to let me drag him over there sometime. The scotch whisky sampler I brought back for him only helped my case. Next time I really want to explore more of Scotland besides Edinburgh and Fife. And I will bring comfortable shoes.

Inexcusable hiatus, and decorating

2008-11-18T10:54:00.017-05:00

You know how ignored your blog is when it no longer auto-fills in the browser's URL field because it's been so long since you even visited it, let alone posted! What can I say? I think GoudaGirl said it best when she said that she felt Facebook had replaced the purpose(s) blogging served in her life. Still, I don't want my little space here to die out completely.

We're coming upon our first "holiday season" in the new house. I'm so excited to now have a mantel, I already ordered a festive mantel swag and have lots of other decoration ambition. (OK, technically there was a mantel in the Dude's old house, where I lived at this time last year, but it was in the basement and covered in dust, whereas now we have one right in the family room, where we spend most of our time.) Also, the Dude actually wants to decorate the outside of the house! Is he destined to be one of those suburban homeowning husbands/fathers (eventually) who gets into a competition over whose house has the most Christmas lights? Those of you who know him know how ridiculous this notion is, since his home never even had a photo on the wall or a Christmas decoration in sight until I got my hands on it.

But maybe he just needed to be in the right environment. He was fairly enthusiastic about greeting trick-or-treaters this Halloween, and while he slightly ridiculed me for being so excited to carve my first pumpkin ever --

-- he was pretty proud of it once it graced our front doorway and flickered in the night. Then he felt wounded when one group of trick-or-treaters commented, "you don't have any decorations!" Not wanting to become known as the neighborhood hermit/Scrooge, he was spurred into action -- or active thought, at any rate. Now he wants our home to look festive to passers-by.

Personally I would love one of these totally kitschy giant inflatable snowglobes, but I don't think he'll go for it. :)

A flibbity-jibbet? A will-o'-the-wisp?

2008-09-06T16:00:00.010-05:00

I've been home the last couple of days, battling a cold or flu or some such thing. And I've had the strongest urge to watch The Sound of Music while home resting. I just finished doing so, and was struck by how immediate and emotional my reaction was. I couldn't stop tears from falling, almost constantly from beginning to end -- not just at key plot points but even at the opening credits and the intermission music.

Granted, I'm probably a little weepy just by virtue of being ill and feeling sorry for myself, but I don't think that was all of it. The moment the film started, I was instantly transported to a more innocent time -- not 1930s Austria, but 1980s Queens. I felt like a kid again; no, I was a kid again. I could see my childhood living room, could hear my mom rustling in the kitchen, could feel the chill of a New York autumn late afternoon and see the twilight outside our house mix with the glow of the streetlamp streaming through the living-room window.

My tears were not exactly sad -- they were nostalgic. I am quite sure they'd have been there even if my parents were still alive and well in that very house, because I'd still be an adult and in my own home with my own bills and responsibilities, and still be longing for a simpler time when my biggest concern was finishing a school project and when everything made a lasting impression on me.

Do we absorb things more deeply as children? And if so, does this place a responsibility on parents to ensure that their kids' early experiences with something that they may encounter over and over again throughout their lives be as positive as they can be? I suspect I'm bigger on "associations" than perhaps some others are; maybe I process, sense, feel things differently. But I do bet I'm not the only person who can see the opening credits of some beloved movie or hear the opening notes of an old song or read the opening lines of a classic book and be taken to another place and time in their own lives.

I also bet I'm not the only person to go back and play the "singalong" feature that comes on the anniversary DVD of The Sound of Music and pretend I can yodel like Maria.

Finally, at home

2008-08-25T12:06:00.008-05:00

I don't know if I mentioned it here, but I moved yet again; the Dude and I bought a single-family home together and moved into it out of his bachelor-pad townhouse. Not that I didn't like the townhouse; I really loved it in a lot of respects. But we were just bursting at the seams. OK, OK -- my stuff and I were causing it to burst at the seams. I mean, really, two people and three cats should have been able to live comfortably in a three-bedroom, three-level townhouse, right? Yeah, well, you haven't seen how much stuff I have.

So we're really doing the suburbs thing now, which we both had wanted to eventually do anyway. Single-family house, two-car garage, deck, yard, closet space, driveway, lawnmower, the whole bit. No white picket fence or 2.5 kids (yet). (Well, probably never re the fence.)

Here are some pics of things we've done to the house so far:

Daybed and wall hangings in the small guestroom (future baby room).

Ceiling fan and ceiling medallion just installed in the master bedroom by the Dude's dad.

Entryway console unit by the front staircase.

The cake pictured at the top was made and decorated by the Dude's mom.

A year gone

2008-08-12T16:36:00.004-05:00

Hard to believe, but one year ago today, my dad drifted peacefully away. His cousin (my godmother), the Dude, and I were all there in his hospice room. The Yankees game was on the TV, and family photos on the table. Even though I knew it was coming, I burst into tears when he stopped breathing.

One year ago, I really stopped being a kid.

Keep him Happy

2008-08-04T09:39:00.002-05:00

Happy the Hippo was born and bred at the National Zoo. He has had the same keeper for thirteen years. And now they're shipping him off to make even MORE room for the elephants, who already have a pretty good space there.

I object!

A offer I can't refuse

2008-06-24T14:08:00.005-05:00

I've been asked to be godmother to this cutie:

Here I am cautiously checking out my goddaughter-to-be at the tender age of six days!

I don't think I had realized JUST how tiny newborns are. Until now, the youngest baby I think I've been around was about three months old. What a difference.

Interesting

2008-06-05T15:02:00.005-05:00

I'm pretty sure I took this a few years ago with a very different result. But nowadays, I am...

The Priss

Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLD)

Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss.

Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy.

These facts indicate people are often intimidated by you. They also fall for you, hard. You have a distant, composed allure that many find irresistible. If only more of them lived up to your standards.

You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady & long-term. And soothing.

The Online Dating Persona Test

G'day

2008-06-03T07:10:00.004-05:00

Well, The Dude and I are playing hosts for the second time two weeks (and also the second time since I moved in last November). First it was one of my college friends who stayed a night over Memorial Day weekend (and helped us actualize the first-ever usage of the backyard since The Dude bought the place five years ago!). Now it is one of my Australian pseudo-relatives who is touring the U.S. and staying with us all this week.

Ever since I can remember, my family housed wandering Aussies. Heck, we lived in NYC, a city that all the relatives and friends wanted to visit when they finally made the big trip to the U.S., so it was inevitable. My father was never big on having company or otherwise having his "routine" disturbed, but, as my mom marveled at many times over the years, he was always very good about letting the Aussies stay -- sometimes for months and months. Maybe it was because he recognized my mom's huge sacrifice in leaving all her friends and family and moving across the globe to build a life with him in New York.

I admit I was apprehensive about The Dude's willingness to host long-term houseguests, but he has been great about it. (I think to him, a week is long-term...I don't know if he could comprehend having an overseas visitor stay for six months.) He was prepared to make himself scarce if he felt the need, but last night the man who claimed that he was going to "hide" all week wound up staying up chatting with our guest after I threw in the towel and went upstairs to get ready for bed.

The other apprehension I had about this week was -- this would be the first Aussie visitor since my mom died. The last time I saw this person was when my mom and I were in Australia together two years ago. We came back from Australia and she went to the hospital two weeks later, never to return home. Would it be too hard on me? Bring back too many memories?

As it turns out, just the opposite. He just got here yesterday afternoon, but already his visit has made me feel so much closer to my mom and her family and almost-family. I swear there was a moment last night when I forgot she was gone; we talked about her not in a sad, reverent way but in a familiar and appreciative manner that we might have used if he had just come down here after a stay with her up in NY. And while usually the moment when I "remember" (often when I first wake up from a dream about her) that she is dead is a very upsetting one for me, this time it was just comfortable and nostalgic.

One year (redux)

2008-05-16T06:51:00.006-05:00

One year ago, I had just observed my first Mother's Day without a living mother. One year ago, I had a living father. One year ago, I was signing a six-month lease extension on the apartment I'd rented the previous May to live in with my mom (who never did get to see it).

But! Exactly one year from today...

Lady in (too much?) red

2008-05-15T15:54:00.002-05:00

Bet you can't guess what my favorite color (to wear) is.

Uncool

2008-04-11T10:18:00.005-05:00

I was really unhappy to hear about the updating of the Sweet Valley High books. I'm not ashamed to admit I loved these books, and the Sweet Valley Twins and even Sweet Valley Kids. (I never did read any of the Sweet Valley University series.)

First of all -- they're giving Bruce Patman a Cadillac instead of a Porsche? Since when is a Caddy more hip and modern for rich kids to drive? I think Cadillac, I think old people who golf a lot.

But my main gripe is with the shrinking of the twins. Elizabeth and Jessica were always described as 5'6" with perfect size-six figures. Now they're perfect size fours. Seriously? Is a size six that grotesquely huge now? You know, Julia Roberts' character in Pretty Woman was supposed to be a size six. Was she a fatty?

The porky Wakefield twins of yesteryear

Comforting, I guess...kinda...

2008-04-04T13:37:00.000-05:00

You've Changed 32% in 10 Years

Ah, the past! You may not remember it well - because you're still living in it.

While you've changed some, you may want to update your wardrobe, music collection and circle of friends.

How Much Have You Changed in 10 Years?

Heavenly anniversary?

2008-03-16T08:35:00.008-05:00

Thirty-three years ago today, my parents were married. One year ago today, my dad observed his first wedding anniversary as a widower. Then a few months later he passed away. So, according to my parents' beliefs, this is their first wedding anniversary since they've been "reunited."

I wish I could say I believe that with as complete a certainty as they did. When my mom died, my dad commented that it was at times like that that he really felt sorry for atheists, because they had nothing to believe, nothing to cling to. I don't consider myself an atheist but let's just say I have a lot of questions. I was raised to have the blind faith that my parents did (probably because that's how they were raised), but somehow they seemed to retain it throughout their adulthood and I have not. Sometimes I wish I could just accept it as they did, because then I would have something to cling to.

But, for their sake today, here's hoping.

Mark it zero!

2008-03-03T11:15:00.004-05:00

Appropriately enough given the original theme of this blog, I have joined the Dude's bowling league. I am a terrifically bad bowler, and I have been very upfront on this point. It's a handicap league, so it kind of doesn't matter how bad you are, just whether you're consistently bad. It's good if you improve week to week, but then you're held to a higher standard. Handicaps in the league seem to range from zero (meaning the bowler's average is at or over 200) to the high 90s for the most part...mine is a cool 100. Actually, after bowling even worse my second week than my first, it's now going to be higher than 100. That means my average is around 90.

This actually thrills me. I told the rest of the team I was just aiming for 80 each game. They know my history: I was in a children's league from about the age of 7 to 10 or so, and once bowled a 7. SEVEN. Now I average more than that each frame! I even rolled a 132 once since joining this league, prompting everyone on my team AND the opposing team to exclaim that I was "on fire." (You'll notice I had already set their expectations low.)

So I'll never be a great bowler, but as long as my handicap doesn't go higher than, say, 120, I will be pleased with myself. And I only joined because they were desperate for another bowler, so my teammates can't really say much, other than cheer wildly when I occasionally manage to pick up a spare. :)

Tagged again!

2008-02-29T08:29:00.002-05:00

This time Tracey tagged me. She was probably the only person who actually played along when I tagged her. Here are the rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

Unfortunately, I am at work, and the nearest books to me are the many volumes of the United States Code. So:

The term "wages" does not include -
(i) the amount of any payment made to, or on behalf of, an employee or any of his dependents (including any amount paid by
an employer for insurance or annuities, or into a fund, to provide for any such payment) on account of retirement, or
(ii) any payment or series of payments by an employer to an employee or any of his dependents upon or after the termination of the employee's employment relationship because of retirement after attaining an age specified in a plan referred to in section 409(a)(11)(B) of this title or in a pension plan of the employer.

(D) In the case of -

(i) an individual who has attained retirement age (as defined in section 416(l) of this title) on or before the last day of the taxable year, and who shows to the satisfaction of the Commissioner of Social Security that he or she is receiving royalties attributable to a copyright or patent obtained before the taxable year in which he or she attained such age and that the property to which the copyright or patent relates was created by his or her own personal efforts, or
(ii) an individual who has become entitled to insurance benefits under this subchapter, other than benefits under section 423 of this title or benefits payable under section 402(d) of this title by reason of being under a disability, and who shows to the satisfaction of the Commissioner of Social Security that he or she is receiving, in a year after his or her initial year of entitlement to such benefits, any other income not attributable to services performed after the month in which he or she initially became entitled to such benefits,

there shall be excluded from gross income any such royalties or other income.

(E) For purposes of this section, any individual's net earnings from self-employment which result from or are attributable to the performance of services by such individual as a director of a corporation during any taxable year shall be deemed to have been derived (and received) by such individual in that year, at the time the services were performed, regardless of when the income, on which the computation of such net earnings from self-employment is based, is actually paid to or received by such
individual (unless such income was actually paid and received prior to that year).

Sigh.

I shall tag: Anna, Lyneidas, Hoyden, Dianne, and GoudaGirl (even though I know she won't do it unless she finds a way to make it about her European travels...maybe she can use a travel guide).

Closed

2008-02-12T12:03:00.001-05:00

Well, it's finally done. My childhood home, which has been under contract since about October, finally went to closing last week. Here's some stuff I learned at or around this, my first house closing:

Even on a weekday afternoon, parking is still a bitch in Astoria.
Even when you're running late for something involving several parties, someone else will always be later.
You don't just get one big fat check...it's several smaller checks.
You're supposed to tip the title company guy so he "doesn't lose your paperwork."
The title company guy has a lot of power besides whether to lose your paperwork, like deciding whether an out-of-state seller has to prepay any capital gains tax at the closing.
A seller could get by without addressing the buyer at all.
Everyone in Astoria is still Greek or Italian.
Going to a movie alone is a fun way to follow up and celebrate your house sale.
A movie in Astoria costs $11 now!
All the hype about Juno is deserved.

It was actually a decent experience. I was afraid I'd cry at the closing or do something similarly unseemly, but it was fine. I was sad on the drive up to New York, but I stopped by "my" house to make my farewells just before heading to the closing, and I felt good about it. I still do. Erstwhile complaints about it aside, that house gave me and my family a few decades' worth of memories, and it was time to let it go. I wish good luck to the new owner.

Cookin' up a storm

2008-02-07T10:02:00.001-05:00

Lately the Dude, Mommy Dude, and I have gotten into cooking classes. A couple of weeks ago we went to a vegetarian entrees cooking demo at L'Academie de Cuisine, at Dudemom's invitation (we got her a gift certificate there for Christmas, and it was nice of her to spend some of it on us). And last night we attended the first of a series of four vegetarian cooking classes at Gail's Vegetarian Cooking. We were first introduced to Gail's when I entered and won a contest on the website. Anyway, we weren't sure what the format of Gail's classes would be, but it turned out to be mostly a demo, but a little hands-on in that Gail invited students to go up and participate. Dudemom volunteered for the first and second tasks Gail offered -- chopping carrots and chopping onions. Since I'm just getting over a bacterial infection and am still on antibiotics, I didn't want to touch the food too directly, but I did volunteer to juice lemons, since I was only touching the outside of the lemon, which wasn't getting used. (We did wash our hands first, of course.)

The dishes and the facilities at L'Academie were definitely fancier, but I liked the food equally at both. (At both, at the end of the demonstration, the class members get to dig in!) I'm looking forward to the next three classes at Gail's and also the sushi workshop.

The Dude and I both like to cook, and to eat home-cooked meals, but we never seem to find the time or energy to do it. Perhaps if we stocked our kitchen with more fresh and versatile food, we could cook more often on the spur of the moment. For now, we have to plan it in advance. And since I've been sick I've had NO interest in dealing with food at home, so we've been going out for the most part.

Anyway, it's fun learning new dishes, even if we don't use our new knowledge right away! And I continue to appreciate how he and his parents are so accommodating of -- and even interested in -- my vegetarian diet.

Engaged!

2008-01-28T11:11:00.000-05:00

The Dude popped the question last week. I said yes. :)

Idol is missing a fan

2008-01-17T08:33:00.000-05:00

No, not me -- I've never been into this show. No, the long-lived and much-hyped reality-TV sensation American Idol is now without one of its biggest fans of the past: my dad.

Last season he emailed me Idol updates after almost every episode. Since I didn't watch, I sort of read them with an "and this is relevant to me because...?" attitude, but I had to admire his enthusiasm. Of course, now that he's gone I'd give anything to have him back, even if it meant getting his daily report on this new season.

I just went through my emails and pulled some of his comments from last season. Whether you watch(ed) or not, his tone and conspiracy theories can be pretty amusing:

January 25, 2007:

I watched the Idol auditions from NY last night. What a strange bunch! After one girl was turned down, she gave the most impassioned speech about why she simply HAD to go on to Hollywood. It's good to believe in yourself, but one has to be realistic as well. She obviously never entertained the possibility that she wouldn't make it, and was crushed.

Another good-natured gal, after being rejected, readily admitted she couldn't sing, but gave some convoluted reasoning as to why she should go on. A rightfully incredulous Simon told her: "You ARE aware this a singing competition, right?"

On the other side of the coin, some hopefuls are so nice and so earnest that you feel really bad for them when they get turned down. Randy seems a bit meaner this year, and Paula seems like she might be abusing some substance, as some have been speculating.

February 6, 2007:

This year, I find I'm very irritated by the boorish and cruel behavior of all three Idol judges, not just Simon. I have a feeling the producers told them to do it, to ensure ever higher ratings. I believe that will eventually backfire, though. It's one thing to sit at home and laugh at some poor talentless wannabe...I do it myself. But to ridicule someone who's standing in front of you, nervous as can be, trying their best, is just plain mean and insensitive. Laughing and making faces among themselves is uncalled for. To further humiliate someone who's just been rejected, in every city the contestant has to exit through a set of double doors, one of which is always locked. No explanation given, not even a sign on the locked side, saying "use other door." Tonight they thought it would be fun to show one contestant after another trying to push open the locked door. Hmmph!

February 21, 2007:

Idol is getting good now. The top 12 female contestants competed tonight in a two-hour program, and the males did it last night. Two from each group will be eliminated, according to viewer voting, with results to be announced tomorrow evening. There is some really good talent this year, but of course Simon had good things to say about only a few of them.

March 7, 2007:

The eight remaining male Idol contestants gave mostly so-so performances last night. The ladies are WAY ahead of them. The next American Idol will almost surely be female.

March 8, 2007:

Two of the people eliminated tonight came as a big surprise to everyone. Even the judges were shocked when Sundance, a guy with a very good voice, was sent home in favor of Sanjaya, a guy who should have been eliminated two weeks ago after his weak version of a Fred Astaire song. Viewers seem to take other factors into account other than the singing voice when they vote, such as looks and likeability. It shouldn't be, but that's the reality. So now there are 12 finalists. Oh, and that Antonella got the boot, also, which surprised nobody.

March 13, 2007:

Tonight An Inconvenient Truth is on again, and ends early enough so I can still catch American Idol, which is good. Try to catch it if you can, to see what you think of Melinda and Lakisha. There's also a very likeable and talented gal named Jordin, who I'd like to see go further. She's 17.

March 15, 2007:

I wonder if the voting on American Idol can be rigged. That Sanjaya survived yet again this week. He's the weakest link and should have been gone three weeks ago.

March 21, 2007:

Unbelievably, that guy Sanjaya survived yet another week on Idol, and is now in the top 10. I wonder if the voting can be rigged?

March 25, 2007:

Apparently the fix may be in regarding the viewer voting for that talent-challenged Sanjaya on American Idol. There's a website that's been encouraging people to vote for the worst contestant, which everyone agrees is him. Plus, he's been getting a huge amount of votes from India. The producers should address the issue during the program, maybe have Sanjaya himself reject such tactics, asking people to vote for him only if they truly feel he deserves it. I'm sure that's not going to happen, though.

March 27, 2007:

I gave Toni Ann [his cousin, my godmother] a call this morning. We had a good chat about American Idol. She's a big fan, also, and likes the same people I do, and thinks Sanjaya is the worst, as well. Simon threw in the towel with him tonight, saying there was longer any point in rendering criticism, since he seemed to be able to survive week after week, regardless of his awful performances.

April 17, 2007:

Tonight the remaining seven Idol finalists had to sing Country songs, and were coached by Martina McBride. 17 year old Jordin just looks better and better every week. Great voice and stage presence, and very, very likable. Were it not for Melinda, my money would be on her to end up #1. Simon really blasted Sanjaya tonight, and deservedly so. I sure hope he's history after tomorrow's results are in.

May 23, 2007:

The American Idol season finale was a very good show, well produced, good musical numbers, and lots of guest stars performing. At two hours, it WAS a bit long, though. One hour would have been just right. As most viewers expected, Jordin was crowned the new Idol for 2007. She's only 17, and has a great future ahead of her. Blake was very good, also, but he's more of a performer than a singer, whereas Jordin has a terrific voice.

A runnin' fool

2008-01-15T14:33:00.000-05:00

Well, a walkin' fool, at any rate. LaFlacaD asked how my exercising is going. In short, not bad.

So far, I've gone a total of 13.6 miles on the treadmill since it arrived right before we left for Christmas. 0.57 mile of that was actual running. I'm trying to use it 2-3 times a week at 1-2.5 miles per use. Since I almost exclusively walk, it takes 20-60 minutes to go this distance. As I continue, I will aim more for increasing the incline and running for longer stretches at a time. So far, I vary the incline from 0 to 2.0 when walking. Running I only do at 0 or 0.5 for now. I don't want to overdo it from the get-go. My muscles are definitely still adjusting, as proven by my limping today.

I'm interested to see how many total miles I'll have gone by, say, the end of the year. I'm aiming for 200, but we'll see!

Probably true

2008-01-10T10:02:00.001-05:00

You're Definitely Not a Brainiac

Knock knock! Any brains in there? Seems to be pretty empty.
You have a brain, obviously, but you don't really choose to use it.

Yes, thinking is hard. But being an idiot is harder.
Isn't it about time that you gave your noggin a little exercise?

Read a book, do a puzzle, learn how say a few things in a foreign language.
If you don't use it, you'll lose it. And at the rate you're going, you're going to lose it soon.

Are You a Brainiac?

A good time was had by all

2007-12-27T12:49:00.001-05:00

As discussed and debated on this very blog a few months ago, I rented a cottage in Nantucket for Christmas. Originally it was going to be just me, but in the end, the Dude accompanied me. The cottage I went with -- the Wild Rose -- turned out to be much cuter in person and just the right fit.

Unfortunately most businesses were closed while we were there, but I did get to show the Dude some of my favorite Nantucket spots, such as the Brant Point Lighthouse (decorated with a huge wreath, above) where I took my mom's ashes.

Once home, we celebrated with our critters:

Hope everyone else's holidays were as merry and bright!

Getting a leg up on the resolutions

2007-12-17T08:57:00.001-05:00

The Dude and I (mostly I) have been talking for a while now about getting home exercise equipment. I had hoped to do so pretty soon after I moved in, but other things tend to get in the way. Anyway, the Dude, knowing it was important to me (and also seizing an opportunity for an easy gift), decided to get it for me for Christmas. I suggested it would still count as a Christmas present if we got it early, so we went Friday and picked out a PaceMaster Bronze Basic with a free Schwinn recumbent bike. They are being delivered and set up this Friday morning.

I'm posting about this so I will feel accountable to my vast, vast readership to actually keep up with my workouts on these. Someone mentioned recently that she likes to accumulate TV show seasons on DVD, as is currently the fashion, and that she is only "allowed" to watch episodes while working out. If she takes a break, she hits the pause button. So wanting to see the next episode is great incentive to work out. When I used to go to the gym, I loved watching reruns while on the treadmill, so this should work well. The TV, VCR, and DVD player are already set up by where the equipment will go. And I have a few DVD sets already waiting. (And perhaps more coming off of my Amazon.com wish list?)

So...let the home workouts begin!

Tag, I'm it

2007-12-04T14:03:00.000-05:00

OK. Anna tagged me, so I will play along, but I don't really expect all seven of my taggees to keep it going.

1. Link to the person who tagged you and post the rules on your blog.

2. Share seven random or weird things about yourself.

a) As a kid I was such a good swimmer, my instructor told my parents to start training me for the Olympics. (They never did.)

b) There are rumors in my family that we are descendants of Mussolini.

c) I can't whistle.

d) I used to be mildly allergic to eggplant.

e) I was one of two designated hand-shakers (at the Sign of Peace) at my class's First Communion ceremony. The other is my friend whose maid of honor I will be next September.

f) I was an extra in Hackers. Angelina Jolie smiled at me on the set. She had boy-short hair then.

g) I talked on the phone with Jay Leno when I was 15.

3. Tag seven random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

First of all, I'm guessing they don't mean random-random, but a random selection of your blogging friends. So OK, I will tag: Hoyden, Lyneidas, LaFlacaD, GoudaGirl (who will I guess have to share seven random/weird things about herself as they pertain to living in Europe), Tracey, Phil even though he hasn't blogged in a year, and Melissa.

4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Moved and shod

2007-11-30T10:45:00.001-05:00

Mr. Kitty and I have moved once again, this time to the Dude's house.

Recall that he adopted my parents' cats a year and a half ago. Mr. Kitty and Mao and Bugsy lived together for three years and tolerated each other. We're hoping they'll do at least that, or better, this time around. So far we're keeping them separated, but we'll probably integrate them this weekend. And yes, like with the last move, I procrastinated and was back at the apartment doing all sorts of last-minute packing and cleaning until about ten minutes before my moving-out inspection.

On Thanksgiving eve, Mr. Kitty helped me sort and pack my shoes for the move:

And that was not all of them. There were several more pairs that did not fit on the (king-sized) bed.

Eighty. 8-0. That is how many pairs of shoes I had. I managed to narrow it down to 40-something. Almost halved my shoe collection! That's still 40 more pairs than, say, the Dude owns, but hey.

They grow up so fast

2007-11-20T15:26:00.000-05:00

I got to see my bovine pal, Emily the blind calf, and other rescued farm animals this weekend at Poplar Spring Animal Sanctuary's Thanksgiving With the Turkeys. It's an annual fundraising and awareness event that is basically a huge vegan potluck luncheon and a chance to meet and greet the animals. The Dude, his mother, and Red Fraggle came too; the latter got to see her beloved goat, Monty.

Here is Emily now!

The Dude abides

2007-11-09T08:58:00.000-05:00

As you may know from the title of this blog and its inaugural post, I am a fan of the Coen Brothers' film The Big Lebowski. Fortunately, the Dude is as well (though not as obsessively so as I), so he was happy to accompany me to the annual Dudefest at the Arlington Cinema and Drafhouse (which is a really cool venue - go there if you can!) last night.

A good time was had by all, although we did not enter the costume contest. A couple of guys dressed as the nihilists were the crowd favorites until there appeared a particularly good Walter-on-ringer-handoff-night, who took the prize. I deeply regret not entering the trivia contest (though the Dude urged me to), as it turns out I could have wiped the floor with those amateurs. Well, the guy who won -- also the only contestant who got anything right! -- seemed to know his stuff.

We're already thinking up costumes for next year. Far out, man!

Cruise completed!

2007-11-05T08:25:00.000-05:00

This was my home last week:

Not too shabby, huh? Here's some stuff we did:

It was a blast! But the Dude and I agreed it was much too short. Just as we started to feel settled in, and felt like we had relaxed enough to transition from work to vacation and were ready to start really doing different things on the ship, it was over! The day we got back to Baltimore, the ship was leaving again for a nine-nighter to the Caribbean. Maybe we'll try that one next. :)

Random updates

2007-10-19T15:08:00.000-05:00

I hate going so long without posting, but sometimes there just isn't much to say. I'm guessing that I will have something worth blogging about after our cruise. Until then, there isn't a lot going on. Well, Hoyden is coming up this weekend to accompany me to lunch with our former boss, who is a real trip and whom we haven't seen in years. That should be a lot of fun. And at some point I will need to pack for this trip. I've started a preliminary to-pack list and it's frighteningly long.

Oh, and p.s., I'm turning 30 on the cruise! Since we'll be surrounded by tons of ocean and in some undefined time zone, it won't feel "real." At least, that's what I'm counting on.

After the cruise, the big focus will be on packing up my jam-packed apartment (which was packed already but is now overflowing because of all the things I salvaged from my NYC house, which is about to go under contract) because I'm moving in with the Dude at the end of November! I think he and I both dread the actual process (him cleaning and rearranging things and possibly getting the floors revamped, and me packing and unpacking [hiring movers this time -- yay!]) but are looking forward to the end result.

I also want to send a shout out to my old college chum Melissa, whose debut novel, Violet on the Runway, is doing fabulously. I am in the middle of it right now and I love it! Of course, I can very easily relate to tall, willowy model Violet and her struggles with being so skinny and achieving instant fame. ;)

Check it out!

Stretchin'

2007-10-07T22:52:00.001-05:00

Mr. Kitty says hello!

The countdown is on!

2007-10-04T14:55:00.001-05:00

I can't believe it's already/finally October. The best month of the year!

Aside from gorgeous fall colors and crisp evening air, this perfect month marks my coming into the world. This year, that historically significant day will be celebrated at sea en route to Bermuda!

Behold my mediocre Photoshop skillz

2007-09-26T08:33:00.001-05:00

I enjoy touching up photos using Photoshop. Sometimes I will airbrush a zit or fat roll out of a photo of myself, and one time I removed an unsightly bystander and lamp from a photo that friends wanted to use on their holiday card, but most often, I try to fix up damaged old photos. The first one I did was a group shot of my mom's volleyball team from the 1950s, which had numerous scratches and tears, including a large part of the coach's face. Another one I did, more recently, was an early photo of my grandparents, when they were young and carefree, probably in the 1930s. I had to reconstruct my grandfather's chin, and I think I made it a bit more prominent than it really was, but my dad was still pleased with the results.

Now in cleaning out my parents' house, I found some old photos that I had never seen before. One in particular of my dad and his friend Mike was really cute, and I decided to scan it, fix it up, get a larger print made and frame it for Mike, who wasn't able to come to my dad's funeral because he now lives in Arizona. This isn't really the best example of my touching up, but it's what I have with me here. Plus I want to share it because they look so cute in the photo, which is from New Year's Eve 1961. Mike is the one peeking in at the left. (Perhaps that's obvious, at least if you know what I look like, since I look exactly like my dad. Seriously, if I cut my hair right now and wore a suit and tie, this is exactly what I'd look like, on the right.)

After:

A nicely framed copy is en route to Arizona and a second one is on my bookshelf.

At least I'm lightweight something!

2007-09-11T09:38:00.000-05:00

'Tis better to give

2007-09-10T11:21:00.001-05:00

Red Fraggle and I were talking recently about how nice it would be to "register" for charity donations when/if we get married (not to each other), especially since we're at the point now in our lives where we can buy a new blender if we want and don't need a dozen crystal platters cluttering up our city-cramped living spaces. I did a little research online and found JustGive.org, where couples can create charity wedding registries, singles can create charity wish lists, and you can even buy charity gift certificates redeemable on their site. Apparently Red knew that this sort of site existed, but it was a new and rather exciting discovery for me. To that end, I created my own charity wish list, linked also at left. Not that I'm looking for belated Labor-Day gifts or anything, but just for your future convenience if you are the gift-giving(-to-me) sort.

Do-gooding and a tax write-off to boot! Can't hate that!

Am I "older?"

2007-08-31T07:25:00.000-05:00

The other day, a coworker expressed his condolences on the loss of my father. He commiserated by saying both his parents were gone too, and both his wife's parents, and even his sister. He said, "It's just part of being older."

But this guy was like 60. I'm not yet 30.

Then yesterday I met with an accountant about sorting out my dad's estate and what I'll need to pay taxes on. He, too, showed he was a kindred spirit by saying that he'd lost both his parents too.

The guy had hair so gray it was white, and I'm pretty sure he's a grandfather.

OK, not for nothin' (how's that for a New York-ism?), but of course these guys' parents are dead! If they were alive, they'd probably be in their 90s or more. And yes, some people do live to that age and older, but it shouldn't be any sort of big shock if they don't.

I realize I need to stop comparing my situation to everyone else's. As I said a few posts ago, I have it worse than some, but plenty have/had it worse than I. And whether you lose your parent when you're 7 or 70, whether the parent is 30 or 90, it's gonna hurt. I shouldn't define an "appropriate" level of grief based on external factors.

But come on. Seriously? "Older?"

Of course

2007-08-28T09:31:00.000-05:00

You Are a Hot Fudge Sundae

Classic, simple, and divine.
Why mess with perfection?

What Kind of Sundae Are You?

Lodging update

2007-08-24T19:47:00.000-05:00

I know all my loyal readers -- both of you -- are waiting on pins and needles to hear where Santa will find me Christmas morning. Well, yes, as an astute commenter pointed out, I did have a clear preference -- for door number 3. However, unfortunately it turns out that that cottage isn't available after all. The first two are still available, but other possibilities are coming up now. I hope to make a decision next week. I'm really excited! I might even bring a little tree and some garland to spruce up wherever I land...

Away it is!

2007-08-23T09:35:00.000-05:00

And the winner of the where-should-I-go-for-Christmas poll is...go away somewhere cool! That is fortunate, because about five minutes after I posted that last entry (with the poll), I decided to go away. I still like that it was the most popular choice.

Guess where I've decided to go! Here's a hint:

In fact, I've already bought my plane ticket. Now here is the big question: where should I stay? I've already decided that I want to rent a cottage this time, not stay at a B&B like I usually do. I want a bit more privacy and space. So here are the top three choices right now, in the order in which they were presented to me:

1. A loft "penthouse" at the top of a historic building near town. It has a jacuzzi tub, a private widow's walk, and a private garden.

2. A mildly cute, recently built cottage west of town with a patio and shared yard.

3. An extremely cute, but smaller, cottage north of town with a fenced-in backyard, near the beach and the lighthouse where I scattered my mother's ashes last year.

Keeping in mind that the outdoor amenities will probably be useless in the wintry cold of Christmastime on an island in New England, and that 2 and 3 are about equidistant from town (where I'll want to go to get food and shop and go to church and all) and both farther than 1, and all three are about the same price, which one should I rent?

[Note: I took down the polls because (a) they're moot now and (b) they seemed to be causing the blog to take forever to load.]

And a happy new year

2007-08-21T07:45:00.000-05:00

Well, instead of the dead-mom blog, this can now be the dead-parents blog! Swell, huh?

So I spent a good deal of time crying last night after a discussion The Dude and I had about holidays -- mostly Christmas. (Why did this come up? Possibly because someone's cell phone rang with "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" while we were eating dinner.) I have spent all 30 of my Christmases with the same two people -- my parents. OK, no, I spent 29 with them, and one (last year) with just my dad. The last 28 have been at the same house, which I am now cleaning out and preparing to sell.

The Dude spends his Christmases (and Thanksgivings, for that matter, and probably Easters too) with, naturally, his parents, at their home here in the DC area. Also his aunt, uncle, and cousins converge on his parents' house, so it's a big family affair. Which sounds very idyllic, but is not what I'm used to.

I figure (and he provided support for this) that if my parents were still alive, we'd wind up alternating Christmases, or all holidays, with his family and mine. Now I feel kind of gypped because since my family's gone, the default is to spend all holidays with his. Now, I really like them, and I can't think of a really good reason not to spend holidays with them, except that it's not what I'm used to.

However, I need to keep reminding myself that what I'm used to cannot exist anymore. So no matter what I do, it won't be what I really want (i.e., spending the holidays with my parents at their house). So at that point, what difference does it make? Still, some tiny part of me feels like I should still get a say, like we do what I want every other holiday, even if what I want is to sit in our own home. But that's not fair to his family, who's right here in town. Sigh.

Anyway, the issue of future holidays, like once we're married and have kids and stuff, is not as relevant to me right now as the issue of what to do with myself this Christmas...

[Note: I took down the polls because (a) they're moot now and (b) they seemed to be causing the blog to take forever to load.]

You're invited!

2007-08-20T08:40:00.000-05:00

What: Pity Party
When: Now through Indefinite
Where: Everywhere I am
RSVP: Just come on over!
Man, could I feel any sorrier for myself? Boo hoo, I'm an orphan and not even 30. Well, so what? My godmother (dad's first cousin, who was with me for a lot of last weekend and week) lost her mom at 16 and her dad at 27. At least I had my mom until last summer. Look at Harry Potter! Lost both his parents when he was only ONE! Plenty of people (real and fictional) have/had it worse than I do. But guess what...I still feel sorry for myself. Most of my friends my age have both parents living. Their parents will be at their weddings (or already were), and will live to see their grandkids. Heck, one friend is two years older than I am and her GREAT-GRANDMOTHER is alive! Yet here I am with no parents, no grandparents, no brothers, no sisters, no aunts, no uncles, no cousins. The best I can do is three first cousins once removed, and one of them is crazy and one is in Australia. The remaining one is doing her best to be parental and part of my life. And plenty of friends treat me as part of the family and some have outright offered to let me "join" their families. I definitely appreciate all the support I'm getting, but it isn't the same as my own late family.

People tell me that in a way I'm lucky it's just me left, because it makes it so much easier to deal with the estate and paperwork and all -- no one to split things with, no one coming around wanting a piece. That's true, but it also means no one else to do the work. Again I have lots of people offering to help, but it's not the same. But it'll have to be good enough.

Rest in peace, part 2

2007-08-17T21:40:00.000-05:00

World's best dad.
1940-2007.

Hell yes

2007-08-03T14:55:00.001-05:00

You Are a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

You life your life in a free form, artistic style.
You are incredibly creative and at times, quite messy.
Deep down, you are a kid at heart. And you aren't afraid to express it.

Your best friend: The Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Your mortal enemy: The Club Sandwich

What Kind of Sandwich Are You?

Toddlin'

2007-07-31T13:43:00.000-05:00

I realize I haven't posted much lately. Simply put, I haven't felt like anything's happened worth sharing. Also, I usually prefer posting with an accompanying photo, and I haven't been taking any interesting ones. Not even in Chicago, where the Dude and I went this weekend for his friend's wedding. How come I don't have any photos of the Windy City, you ask? Well, we didn't spend much time in the city itself. We flew into O'Hare, drove downtown (in our XM-radio-and-GPS-equipped rental car...now we are both hooked on both amenities) to do a quick spot of shopping and lunch-eating (at Flat Top Grill, hooray!!!), but I was too busy doing the driving to take any nice skyline photos, and also it was either smoggy or rainy, couldn't tell which, but it made for a less-than-picture-perfect view. We spent the rest of the weekend in the 'burbs, where our hotel and the wedding both were.

Even though the Dude brought work with him, it turned out to be a fun and relaxing weekend -- and miraculously, one with so few travel mishaps that even the travel-patience-impaired Dude was satisfied. The wedding was nice, and we caught up with several of the Dude's friends (most of whom I already knew). And we caused quite a sensation at the Outback Steakhouse near the hotel when twelve of us marched in near closing on Sunday evening, including the bride and groom still in full wedding regalia.

That's probably my last major trip for a while, aside from a couple of possible weekend excursions to the likes of Philadelphia and Bethany Beach...until we cruise at the end of October!

Oh, and I should be getting my used Harry Potter tonight...so far I've avoided spoilers. Hope I can for a little while longer.

NO SPOILERS!!!

2007-07-20T13:46:00.001-05:00

...Well, I can't spoil it because I haven't read it yet. I didn't even pre-order it. I debated doing so, and then figured that since I'll be out of town this weekend and don't want to lug it around and stuff, and since a friend has offered to give me his copy once he's read it (he collects the British versions of the books to keep, but he will read the U.S. version to tide him over until he gets his U.K. version), I'd hold off.

Clearly I have a knack for finding dead-mom meaning in everything I encounter, but really, seriously, the release of the seventh and final Harry Potter book is bittersweet for me. It is, of course, bittersweet for many, in that they want to read it but don't want the series to be over, but there's an additional layer of emotion in it for me, as my mom was an avid Harry Potter fan and commented on more than one occasion that she fervently hoped she would live long enough to read the final installment and find out what happens. When she died, I had only seen the movies (at that point, the first four). I have since read all (well, the first six) books, and of course seen the fifth movie. So I get it. I get the big deal about the books. They're great.

The physical books are special to me too, as they were all the ones my mom bought and read. (Hey, I'm cheap -- was I supposed to go out and buy myself a set when I inherited six gently used installments from her?) I actually don't like to get new books...something about a used book is neat to me. I like knowing that someone else was enjoying the same words from the exact same pages before me. So it's fitting that I'll be "inheriting" a used copy of the final book as well.

So to all you fans, enjoy Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Enjoy it for my mom as well as for yourself. But don't tell me about it just yet.

I'll say!

2007-07-16T15:16:00.000-05:00

You've Been a Little Ruined by American Culture

Whether you live in the US or not, deep down you're a little American.
And there's nothing wrong with loving American culture, but it may have negative effects on your life.
Slow down and enjoy what you have. Reconnect with life's simple pleasures.
You don't need to be in a consumerist rat race. Life's too short to overwork yourself!

Has American Culture Ruined You?

One year

2007-07-03T08:04:00.000-05:00

This Friday is the one-year anniversary of my mom's death. It's hard to believe. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday, and other times it feels like eons ago.

One year ago, I was sending flowers for a friend's dog who'd just died, not knowing that many more condolences and flowers would soon be coming my way. One year ago, I was excited for a friend who was about to depart for a year-long master's program in Australia. (He's coming back this week.) One year ago, I was looking forward to seeing the second Pirates of the Caribbean movie in the theater. One year ago, I was in a different job. One year ago, I chose not to go up to New York for the long Independence Day weekend, even though it would afford me more visiting time with my hospitalized mom, because I thought it would be a good chance to unpack into my new apartment, where my mom was supposed to come stay with me when she got out of the hospital. Now the only part of her that is there physically is a small keepsake urn from her cremation. And myself, since I am (or was) physically part of her.

One year ago I had no concept of how drastically and permanently my life would change in just a few short days.

A day for dads

2007-06-18T13:10:00.000-05:00

I went to see my dad for Father's Day. (I always hate having to write down the names of holidays like that -- Father's Day, Mother's Day, Secretary's Day...I feel like it should be Fathers' Day, or even just Fathers Day [no possessive at all], but I guess it can just as easily be a day belonging to each individual father, so I'll go with the convention.) I hadn't thought of it this way until just now, but it was his first Father's Day as a single parent. I probably should have acknowledged that in some way other than giving him the usual batch of scratch-off lottery tickets and sugar-free goodies and letting him buy me pizza. Ah, well.

OK, this is not from Father's Day, but it's the only cute old picture I have online of me and my dad.

Safe haven

2007-06-11T11:05:00.000-05:00

This weekend Red Fraggle and I went to visit our sponsored animals at Poplar Spring Animal Sanctuary in Poolesville, MD. It's an amazing place and I encourage anyone in the area who is interested in, or even just curious about, farm animals to go visit (which you can do by making an appointment in advance) and/or donate to their worthy cause.

I loved getting to meet all the animals, but my favorite was Emily, a blind calf. She was being kept in a separate pasture with Beulah, a cow whose hoof was injured. Emily and Beulah are bonding and the hope is that once Beulah has recovered, they can both go join the rest of the cows and Emily will have a buddy to help her out. They might put a bell on Beulah's neck so Emily can find her.

Emily with her friend Beulah.

It's really a special place with a lot of special residents. If you were on the fence about going vegetarian, you should go meet your meat. (Emily would be a burger right now except that she got separated from her raised-for-meat herd because she was blind, and then the farmer abandoned her to die on her own but some nice neighbor saved her.) These animals are all so sweet with their own personalities, no different than your dog or cat. Speaking of which, I wonder if Mr. Kitty would like a bovine sister...

End of an era

2007-06-06T13:36:00.000-05:00

I am sure I will blog separately about the final episodes after the series finale airs this Sunday, but I was just reflecting (alone, and then via e-mail with a friend) on how sad I am that "The Sopranos" is ending.

The show started when I was still in college. Its existence has been a constant through all these years, when so much else in my life has changed. Through finishing up college, moving from New York to Texas, moving BACK to New York for law school, summer internships here and there, moving to DC, my mother's illness and death, my father's illness, I always knew I at least had more "Sopranos" to look forward to. Now when I watch it, as soon as the opening credits and theme music start up, I get chills, thinking about how many different rooms I've sat in watching that very opening sequence, always with the same excitement and anticipation, albeit in different states, with different people, on different television sets. I'm really going to miss it. Maybe I will get to relive it if I convince the Dude to watch the series with me from the beginning. :)

Hungry hungry hippo

2007-05-29T07:39:00.000-05:00

At the National Zoo Monday during our private entry to the elephant/hippo house for feeding time.

Our latest addition

2007-05-21T08:45:00.001-05:00

The Dude and I went to a charity art auction this weekend to benefit Homeward Trails, the animal-rescue organization I've done a few doggie transports for. We were only going there to look, but a few hours later we left eight pieces of art richer. This was the one piece I wanted badly enough to do the actual bidding on:

Tubby Cat! (Yes, that's his official name.) A number of scrap-metal sculptures by this artist, Richard Kolb, were up for auction that evening. Red Fraggle got a cat clock by Kolb. And if you must be a big copycat (no pun intended) and have your own Tubby Cat, you can purchase one here for a much lower price than I paid at the auction -- but I don't mind, as mine is signed and is for charity and included the excitement of the chase anyway.

Here are all 211 (!) types of scrap-metal sculptures available for sale by the artist.

Me and Julia Gulia

2007-05-15T13:38:00.001-05:00

You Belong in 1985

Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day.

What Year Do You Belong In?

A Day for Mothers

2007-05-14T07:41:00.000-05:00

Here is a relevant entry from my mom's journal:

April 11, 1982

I can't write too much at this point about the death of my mother 6 days ago, it is still too new -- too painful. You will only ever have one mother or father, nobody can ever love you or accept you as fully again, believe me. Mothers & fathers love you simply because you are you -- not for your looks or abilities or personality or money or the thousand & one other reasons people will love, but just because they (your parents) love & accept you exactly as you are. My mother too loved me as I was, she saw little fault in me and was so proud of me even when I didn't do anything much to be proud of -- her heart and her purse were always open to me -- nobody else ever will. We are a tight knit little family, my heart is divided 3 ways -- my mother, my husband, my daughter, each one precious in their own way, all in order of how I knew them. There can be no measuring of love, there is always more where that came from -- a bottomless pit of love -- because she is no longer alive I do not stop loving her, that part doesn't die, her spirit doesn't die and she cannot die altogether as long as WE live, for I am part of her body as you are part of mine so thru you & I, my mother still lives -- a direct link. I must complete her part in the family bible -- that will be yours someday for your daughters, still another link -- see, Grandma cannot completely die, we are here as part of her.

Damn straight!

2007-05-11T08:42:00.000-05:00

You Are 20% Massachusetts

You Yankees loving homo! You probably think Starbucks coffee tastes better than Dunkin Donuts.

How Massachusetts Are You?

(And that 20% is mostly because I have friends from Mass who've told me that stuff that I got "right.")

Ups and downs

2007-05-04T09:06:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, as the preceding post indicates, would have been my mom's birthday. So that was a sad day, needless to say. Tomorrow will be the 10-monthiversary of her death, and next Sunday the first Mother's Day since she died. Way to consolidate the sadness!

Plus, a good friend's beloved family cat passed away Wednesday evening. This cat and I had some differences of opinion -- e.g., I thought he shouldn't attack me, he thought otherwise -- but I am still sad whenever anyone loses a pet. So rest in peace, Winston.

However, life usually throws in some good, uplifting stuff to counter the bad. I have friends visiting this weekend. One is engaged and I'm her maid of honor. Another good friend and her boyfriend went and purchased her engagement ring last night. I know a few people who are expecting a baby -- for some it's their first, for others not. It's the circle of life. The wheel of fortune...leap of faith, band of hope, all that. :)

And now that that song is stuck in my head:

Happy birthday, mom

2007-05-03T09:10:00.000-05:00

Today would have been my mom's 70th birthday.

Feisty to the end. :)

Random updates

2007-04-30T10:10:00.000-05:00

I wish I blogged more often, but I haven't had much to say of note. Here are some miscellaneous items:

1. I did another volunteer transport this weekend for Homeward Trails, the same rescue group for which I chauffeured a couple of dogs near Christmas. This time I went to southwestern VA to pick up some puppies and deliver them to their new parents here in northern VA. Warm-fuzzies for me!

2. I watched the 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice this weekend -- the one with Keira Knightley. I'd heard mixed reviews but actually really liked it a lot. Even though I of course heart Colin Firth and appreciated the depth of the story that was conveyed in the six-hour BBC version, I thought the ages were more appropriate in this newer feature, and the new Mr. Darcy ain't hard on the eyes either.

3. Today's The Dude's and my 16-monthiversary. We might or might not go to dinner at the restaurant where we had our first date (well, OK, another location of the same restaurant, which is a local chain), depending on his work schedule.

4. SOPRANOS SPOILERS -- Nancy Sinatra was on "The Sopranos" last night. It slayed me! Although I preferred the season 3 episode where Frank Jr. joined the Executive Game. In general, I liked the first two new episodes better than the second two, but there has been some important character and plot development of late. And even though he's been so schmucky for so long, I feel bad for Anthony Jr.

Playing

2007-04-23T09:51:00.000-05:00

The Dude and Mr. Kitty enjoyed some quality time this weekend:

Gratuitous nudity, circa 1979

2007-04-12T15:24:00.000-05:00

In the absence of anything real to post...

Generosity is a virtue

2007-03-29T12:59:00.000-05:00

Hey, no pressure, but I'll be walking in the MS Walk in a few weeks, in honor of one of my oldest friends (we were preschool BFFs!) who now has MS, and I'd love some pledges!

Krazy for Knut

2007-03-23T10:31:00.000-05:00

I'm just going to go ahead and jump on the Knut bandwagon. He is the cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutest! The Dude has agreed to go to Germany with me sometime (though he now denies it), which I'd like to do as part of a visit to Gouda Girl in Amsterdam. Honestly, Germany never interested me as a travel destination, but between its status as the only European country The Dude is willing to go to and its being the home of Knut the kute, I'm all for it now!

And if things don't work out with The Dude, I'm totally going to marry his keeper, Thomas Dörflein, so I can be Knut's stepmom.

We're fine

2007-03-22T08:41:00.000-05:00

Mr. Kitty is OK; she doesn't eat, nor has ever eaten, any of the foods on the pet-food recall list. She only eats dry food, which so far is not implicated at all (only wet), and she only eats either Purina or high-end brands like Innova or Wellness, none of which are involved. (Yes, she eats the "light" or lowfat versions of these foods...so she's a little zaftig...so what?) By the way, it was at Red Fraggle's insistence that I started to replace her Purina with the fancy stuff, because the latter has much healthier ingredients and I want Mr. Kitty around a long time. Red is an expert on this now, and if you contact her through her blog, I'm sure she'd be happy to share her expertise if you're concerned about what you're feeding your feline.

Thanks to everyone who asked after Mr. Kitty's well-being!

Bittersweet

2007-03-16T08:20:00.000-05:00

Today I observe two anniversaries.

First, one year ago today, I bought my new car, Ella! She's up around 13,400 miles already, and doing great! A little salt-streaked and jealous of The Dude's car, which he got washed inside and out last weekend, but she's still cuter anyway.

Second and more significantly, thirty-two years ago today, my parents were married. This is the first anniversary since my mom died in July, so it's pretty hard on my dad. I'm supposed to be going to visit him this weekend (well, going to New York for St. Patrick's Day but also seeing him), but weather might force me to postpone, which would be a shame, since I got him a little commemorative gift and wanted to give it to him on the actual day (or near enough...it'd probably be after midnight by the time I got there anyway, given Friday-night traffic) and keep him company a bit on this sad weekend.

Nada

2007-03-09T11:17:00.000-05:00

I'm blogging to say I have nothing to blog about. Life is very mundane of late. The Dude got a new washing machine, which was delivered and installed today. Ho hum. Just when the weather seemed to be taking a turn for the better, it snowed again this week, and iced over something fierce, but it's all melted and dried up now. I'm really sick of winter, even though this has been a mild one. It's a desolate three-block hike from the parking lot to my building at work (as opposed to at my old job, where I parked right inside the building). I need the exercise, but it's unpleasant in dreary weather and even worse when it's below freezing with stiff winds blowing in my face.

But spring is coming! It has to! I've already got tickets for the Washington Nationals' opening day, which means spring has to be coming soon.

The office. (Well, almost.)

Perfect

2007-02-27T10:29:00.000-05:00

The Dude bought me gorgeous pink roses on Friday. "Coincidentally," it was after I got upset with him for something, but he insists that these were not "I'm sorry" flowers, just "just because" flowers. I'll take it!

Victory!

2007-02-26T12:12:00.000-05:00

I promise I will stop gushing about The Departed after this post. I just have to say, I was really cursing the Academy for keeping me up not only until the stated 11:30 finish time, but really until 12:15 when the show actually ended, but seeing Scorsese get his Oscar (from the directing triumvirate of Coppola, Spielberg and Lucas!) and then the movie win for Best Picture made it well worth it.

And yet I still haven't bought the DVD, which has been out for weeks now! I have a mental block about buying new movies, music or books for myself. I always wait and get them used. For this particular occasion, I will probably give in and get it for myself within the next few weeks. I had been waiting to see if I got it for Valentine's Day, but I guess it was deemed an unromantic gift. :)

Ewwww

2007-02-15T09:18:00.000-05:00

I blogged a while ago about how I hate lilies. So...

You Are A Lily

You are a nurturer and all around natural therapist.
People see you as their rock. And they are able to depend on you.
You are a soothing influence. You can make people feel better with a few words.
Your caring has more of an impact than even you realize.

What Flower Are You?

Mark your calendars!

2007-02-09T08:55:00.000-05:00

My favorite movie of the last several years and maybe one of my top-ten favorite movies ever, The Departed, comes out on DVD Tuesday!

Great Scott!

2007-02-06T12:10:00.000-05:00

You Should Drive a DeLorean

You don't take yourself too seriously, and you prefer a fun, unusual car... like this Back to the Future gem!

What Sports Car Should You Drive?

Speaking of which, what is up with those commercials that rip off BTTF? Uncool. I, for one, am not "delighted" to see Christopher Lloyd reprise his Doc Brown role to shill DirecTV. Is nothing sacred? He must have been either really desperate or somehow legally bound to do that.

A Zesty Enterprise

Moms and daughters

Some thoughts pre-delivery

Heavy thoughts

It's a...

El Duderino? Dudette?

Giving thanks

One year later

OK, I *am* old

Most pathetic Oscars watch yet

Forever young

Time flies

It's not business, it's personal

The years without a Christmas

For the birds

The Supremes

Is this kosher?

Time milestones

Unhappy anniversary

I think I'm heartless

So, I'm married

Showered again!

Prayers for friends unmet

I don't know...

Showered!

Anniversaries

Spoke too soon

What can I say?

New year, new furniture

All is calm

Already?

The motherland

Inexcusable hiatus, and decorating

A flibbity-jibbet? A will-o'-the-wisp?

Finally, at home

A year gone

Keep him Happy

A offer I can't refuse

Interesting

The Priss

Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLD)

G'day

One year (redux)

Lady in (too much?) red

Uncool

Comforting, I guess...kinda...

Heavenly anniversary?

Mark it zero!

Tagged again!

Closed

Cookin' up a storm

Engaged!

Idol is missing a fan

A runnin' fool

Probably true

A good time was had by all

Getting a leg up on the resolutions

Tag, I'm it

Moved and shod

They grow up so fast

The Dude abides

Cruise completed!

Random updates

Stretchin'

The countdown is on!

Behold my mediocre Photoshop skillz

At least I'm lightweight something!

'Tis better to give

Am I "older?"

Of course

Lodging update

Away it is!

And a happy new year

You're invited!

Rest in peace, part 2

Hell yes

Toddlin'

NO SPOILERS!!!

I'll say!

One year

OK, I am old