"It makes sense that, Preuss, a man who was outstanding at measuring and drawing and using barometric data to construct a 2-dimensional topographical representation of a mountain, might suck at climbing said mountain."
-This American Life (Episode #329)
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Kiss-of-death
Apparently, when I make a wedding dress for a friend, that means that they will move within 6 months. I'm on friend #3 who has departed under these circumstances... oddly the same number of wedding dresses I have made.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Losing my center
This morning, I lost it. I admit it, I'm tired and a bit cranky. It's been a long week with lots of late nights. I was looking forward to sleeping in. And my husband woke me up to tell me that the pipes were frozen... and to make sure that I heard it, again, “the pipes are frozen.” So, I got up to get the stoves going. Groggy and weak, I headed out into the frigid air (frigid= -13 F). Yeah. Damned cold.
So, now fully awake and crankier, I got the stoves going and sat down to try and wake up. I don't remember what happened after that, but I found that Copper had ripped big holes into the dog blanket. Now, it's not that big a deal. It was a dog blanket. I paid $2 for it at a yard sale. But it was cute and I liked the idea of having a nice wool blanket for the doggies on these cold days, something to make them feel warm and cozy. And I think what really threw me over the edge was the size of the holes. He clearly had been at it for a while before he stopped or was stopped.
I turned on my husband. “D- you let him destroy this blanket last night!!!” It was at this point that he began to make excuses and counter-accusations. I clearly had him in my cross-hairs and I was out for blood. What got me riled was that I'm pretty sure I know what happened, you see, my husband has been preoccupied with a video game and when he's playing video games, nothing short of an explosion in the backyard can gain his attention. So really, the blanket was sacrificed for a video game.
This is where things get complicated. Last night, I was out at a strip club... for school. The project was that we had to choose an activity which caused us discomfort or anxiety. For a girl who has climbed a 100' tower and has gone winter hiking and camping and who regularly makes an ass of herself, something which causes discomfort is a BIG bill. So, this is what our group settled on and as far as the requirements of the project, it was effective. I was very uncomfortable. I really didn't want to go. And I was a little bit traumatized by the event. And so, one of D's counter-accusations was that it was all good that I criticize him while I'm out having fun at strip clubs. And this has me really irritated. It's bad enough that I had to go at all and that I'm tired and crabby and I had nightmares about nasty itty-bitty boobies, but to get attacked for being out “having fun” was just too much.
And he didn't even leave me a cup of coffee or start a new pot. It was not a good morning.
So, now fully awake and crankier, I got the stoves going and sat down to try and wake up. I don't remember what happened after that, but I found that Copper had ripped big holes into the dog blanket. Now, it's not that big a deal. It was a dog blanket. I paid $2 for it at a yard sale. But it was cute and I liked the idea of having a nice wool blanket for the doggies on these cold days, something to make them feel warm and cozy. And I think what really threw me over the edge was the size of the holes. He clearly had been at it for a while before he stopped or was stopped.
I turned on my husband. “D- you let him destroy this blanket last night!!!” It was at this point that he began to make excuses and counter-accusations. I clearly had him in my cross-hairs and I was out for blood. What got me riled was that I'm pretty sure I know what happened, you see, my husband has been preoccupied with a video game and when he's playing video games, nothing short of an explosion in the backyard can gain his attention. So really, the blanket was sacrificed for a video game.
This is where things get complicated. Last night, I was out at a strip club... for school. The project was that we had to choose an activity which caused us discomfort or anxiety. For a girl who has climbed a 100' tower and has gone winter hiking and camping and who regularly makes an ass of herself, something which causes discomfort is a BIG bill. So, this is what our group settled on and as far as the requirements of the project, it was effective. I was very uncomfortable. I really didn't want to go. And I was a little bit traumatized by the event. And so, one of D's counter-accusations was that it was all good that I criticize him while I'm out having fun at strip clubs. And this has me really irritated. It's bad enough that I had to go at all and that I'm tired and crabby and I had nightmares about nasty itty-bitty boobies, but to get attacked for being out “having fun” was just too much.
And he didn't even leave me a cup of coffee or start a new pot. It was not a good morning.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Yooohoooooo- you there... with the kid.
I am at that age. All my friends are having kids and I’m excited for them when they do. I put in effort to see them. I go to visit. I sew. I bake. I bring food. I’m happy to change diapers and feed and clean.
And then it starts to happen-
My best friend invited me to come down when she goes into labor.
That turned into getting the blanket email announcing the birth that everyone else got including co-workers and not getting a call or personal email until several days later.
I invite a new family over (new = baby is now 5-10 months old) for dinner.
I get an enthusiastic “YEAH! That would be fun” from the new mom.
That turns into a “well, with all the baby stuff we have to pack, why don’t you come here for dinner and we’ll order take out.”
And then that turns into, “why don’t we meet you at a restaurant at 5:30.”
Which turns into new dad showing up alone because the baby is sleeping.
Or my best friend stops calling or visiting. Ever.
As the Mommy blogs multiply and I rack up the miles on my car visiting everyone, I am more and more inclined to write the anti-mommy blog. It’s not that I don’t like kids… or even that I don’t want them. Quite the opposite. I’m just not sure when it was that the meaning of “having a baby” turned into “our life stops and any friendship we had is now meaningless.”
I mean COME ON!!! Babies can travel! They won’t break. I swear.
And so, on the cusp of starting my own family, questions rumble around in my skull… will I “den up” in my house when I have a kid? If so, for how long? Will I hurt my friends as they have hurt me? Will any of my friends who have had kids put in as much effort as I have?
And then it starts to happen-
My best friend invited me to come down when she goes into labor.
That turned into getting the blanket email announcing the birth that everyone else got including co-workers and not getting a call or personal email until several days later.
I invite a new family over (new = baby is now 5-10 months old) for dinner.
I get an enthusiastic “YEAH! That would be fun” from the new mom.
That turns into a “well, with all the baby stuff we have to pack, why don’t you come here for dinner and we’ll order take out.”
And then that turns into, “why don’t we meet you at a restaurant at 5:30.”
Which turns into new dad showing up alone because the baby is sleeping.
Or my best friend stops calling or visiting. Ever.
As the Mommy blogs multiply and I rack up the miles on my car visiting everyone, I am more and more inclined to write the anti-mommy blog. It’s not that I don’t like kids… or even that I don’t want them. Quite the opposite. I’m just not sure when it was that the meaning of “having a baby” turned into “our life stops and any friendship we had is now meaningless.”
I mean COME ON!!! Babies can travel! They won’t break. I swear.
And so, on the cusp of starting my own family, questions rumble around in my skull… will I “den up” in my house when I have a kid? If so, for how long? Will I hurt my friends as they have hurt me? Will any of my friends who have had kids put in as much effort as I have?
Monday, February 4, 2008
From the archives
more so I don't lose it- this is something I wrote in Feb 2004.
Last night, I was accosted on the train. A skinny, wrinkled, black man with a large personality walked up to me laughing. "You go to Harvard?" I replied that no, I wasn't a student.
"HOOOOOO-weee, what a heated debate!!" he said as he clapped his hands together. "I don't like it when people can't even listen to each other to respect one another's views, ya know?" He touched my arm.
I half smiled and nodded.
"I just want to have a conversation... a discussion, ya know?" Touching my arm again.
Again, smile and nod. Just keep smiling and nodding and Man Who Invades Personal Space will go away. Maybe I'm overly sensitive about personal space, but I live in Boston. We don't talk to strangers here. You don't smile. You don't make eye-contact. And we certainly do not touch each other.
He continued, "At one point Red got up- I call him Red because his face is all, you know..." He waves a circular motion in front of his smiling face. I added, "Red?" I'm so helpful. "Yes, Red. He got up and he's 6'2" and he gets up and just keeps going and going and going and everyone in the room was staring and he said, 'now everyone, just shut up. We all know it's immoral and that's that.'" He laughed and clapped his hands again in what I dare say was glee. I stared at him laughing like he'd just won a battle and I needed to know what we were talking about.
I wanted to say, "that doesn't sound very conversational," but I chose the path of least resistance and feigned interest, "What was the debate about?"
"For or against gay marriage... which of course, I'm against," He looks at me sideways, "now I don't know how you feel about it, but it's immoral." Again he glances at me questioningly.
I knew I was in trouble. I've been cornered by bible-thumpers before. Yeah, yeah, the wrath of the lord... hell and damnation. I understand you think I'm going to hell. I've had friends who were bible-thumpers try to tell me that all I needed was the lord in my life or forgiveness is next to godliness.
"How old are you?..." I gave him my best one eyebrow raise, in hopes of conveying "let's not go there." He stands back and looks at me, "20? 19?"
I wanted to laugh at his pathetic attempt to pay me a complement. Objectively, I suppose that I do have a child-like quality to my features, but I feel as though my life's responsibilities and experience should surely show through on my face with a little more wisdom than a 20 year old Harvard student. But in the eyes of this man, what life experience can not be relieved by prayer?
I kind of laughed and replied, "No, I'm no where near 20, and a lot closer to 30." I wanted to say, "don't you know you're not supposed to ask a lady her age?"
He gave me his best look of disbelief and stood back to give me a good look over. Then he came in close and said, "You pregnant?" As he said these words, he put out his hand and TOUCHED MY STOMACH!!!!
I kind of laughed, brushed his hand away, pulled the front of my jacket together and crossed my arms in front of me. It's time for the boyfriend/ husband/ significant other card.
He comes in real close and says, "how do you feel about gay marriage?" I paused, conflicted. If I tell him how I really feel, he's going to follow me home. If I tell him I feel the way he does, this conversation will end, but I won't be able to sleep.
"To be perfectly honest, I am for gay marriage."
I got the look of shock. "Why?!" With the slightest touch of alarm, he leaned in, "are you homosexual?"
I laughed at the poor man's naivete (he probably thought I was being cute.) I said, "no, I'm not."
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
I replied, "No. I have a husband."
He paused, but tried not to let that phase him, "How does your husband feel?"
Poor guy. I really kind of felt sorry for him, desperately looking for my salvation. "He feels the same as I do."
"But why?"
I replied, "If the state stays out of and allows gay marriage, it has no bearing on my life or my own marriage. Another person's marriage will not effect me in any way."
"So you don't think it's immoral?"
I replied, "No I don't, but even if I did, it's none of my business to judge what a gay couple does, especially given that it has no bearing on my rights or my life in any way." I marveled at the fact that I was having this argument with a BLACK man. Has he completely forgotten how many of these "discussions" must have occurred to give him the complete freedom he has now?
"Do you believe in the Almighty?"
"No I don't," I regretfully replied. He stepped back in surprise.
"Everyone's going to be judged. You have a boss and we are all going to have to answer to the big Boss."
"Look," I started, "I live according to my own conscience and the choices I make are considerate. I answer to myself and I hope that if there is an 'Almighty', he understands that this is the best I can do."
He rifled through his bag with some urgency as he spouted some additional holier-than-thou, god-fearing brain-washing at me and eventually procured a pamphlet. "This is deep. Read this and don't throw it out."
At that moment, I wished that I could have the courage to tell him, "no thank you. I will throw it out the moment I get off this train, so you should really save it." But being the compassionate person that I am, I knew he was going to be upset if I didn't take it and truthfully, I wanted him to go home satisfied. So I took it from him, smiled, and nodded. I hope he had a blissfully carefree evening and slept in a world where everything was idealistically his way.
Last night, I was accosted on the train. A skinny, wrinkled, black man with a large personality walked up to me laughing. "You go to Harvard?" I replied that no, I wasn't a student.
"HOOOOOO-weee, what a heated debate!!" he said as he clapped his hands together. "I don't like it when people can't even listen to each other to respect one another's views, ya know?" He touched my arm.
I half smiled and nodded.
"I just want to have a conversation... a discussion, ya know?" Touching my arm again.
Again, smile and nod. Just keep smiling and nodding and Man Who Invades Personal Space will go away. Maybe I'm overly sensitive about personal space, but I live in Boston. We don't talk to strangers here. You don't smile. You don't make eye-contact. And we certainly do not touch each other.
He continued, "At one point Red got up- I call him Red because his face is all, you know..." He waves a circular motion in front of his smiling face. I added, "Red?" I'm so helpful. "Yes, Red. He got up and he's 6'2" and he gets up and just keeps going and going and going and everyone in the room was staring and he said, 'now everyone, just shut up. We all know it's immoral and that's that.'" He laughed and clapped his hands again in what I dare say was glee. I stared at him laughing like he'd just won a battle and I needed to know what we were talking about.
I wanted to say, "that doesn't sound very conversational," but I chose the path of least resistance and feigned interest, "What was the debate about?"
"For or against gay marriage... which of course, I'm against," He looks at me sideways, "now I don't know how you feel about it, but it's immoral." Again he glances at me questioningly.
I knew I was in trouble. I've been cornered by bible-thumpers before. Yeah, yeah, the wrath of the lord... hell and damnation. I understand you think I'm going to hell. I've had friends who were bible-thumpers try to tell me that all I needed was the lord in my life or forgiveness is next to godliness.
"How old are you?..." I gave him my best one eyebrow raise, in hopes of conveying "let's not go there." He stands back and looks at me, "20? 19?"
I wanted to laugh at his pathetic attempt to pay me a complement. Objectively, I suppose that I do have a child-like quality to my features, but I feel as though my life's responsibilities and experience should surely show through on my face with a little more wisdom than a 20 year old Harvard student. But in the eyes of this man, what life experience can not be relieved by prayer?
I kind of laughed and replied, "No, I'm no where near 20, and a lot closer to 30." I wanted to say, "don't you know you're not supposed to ask a lady her age?"
He gave me his best look of disbelief and stood back to give me a good look over. Then he came in close and said, "You pregnant?" As he said these words, he put out his hand and TOUCHED MY STOMACH!!!!
I kind of laughed, brushed his hand away, pulled the front of my jacket together and crossed my arms in front of me. It's time for the boyfriend/ husband/ significant other card.
He comes in real close and says, "how do you feel about gay marriage?" I paused, conflicted. If I tell him how I really feel, he's going to follow me home. If I tell him I feel the way he does, this conversation will end, but I won't be able to sleep.
"To be perfectly honest, I am for gay marriage."
I got the look of shock. "Why?!" With the slightest touch of alarm, he leaned in, "are you homosexual?"
I laughed at the poor man's naivete (he probably thought I was being cute.) I said, "no, I'm not."
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
I replied, "No. I have a husband."
He paused, but tried not to let that phase him, "How does your husband feel?"
Poor guy. I really kind of felt sorry for him, desperately looking for my salvation. "He feels the same as I do."
"But why?"
I replied, "If the state stays out of and allows gay marriage, it has no bearing on my life or my own marriage. Another person's marriage will not effect me in any way."
"So you don't think it's immoral?"
I replied, "No I don't, but even if I did, it's none of my business to judge what a gay couple does, especially given that it has no bearing on my rights or my life in any way." I marveled at the fact that I was having this argument with a BLACK man. Has he completely forgotten how many of these "discussions" must have occurred to give him the complete freedom he has now?
"Do you believe in the Almighty?"
"No I don't," I regretfully replied. He stepped back in surprise.
"Everyone's going to be judged. You have a boss and we are all going to have to answer to the big Boss."
"Look," I started, "I live according to my own conscience and the choices I make are considerate. I answer to myself and I hope that if there is an 'Almighty', he understands that this is the best I can do."
He rifled through his bag with some urgency as he spouted some additional holier-than-thou, god-fearing brain-washing at me and eventually procured a pamphlet. "This is deep. Read this and don't throw it out."
At that moment, I wished that I could have the courage to tell him, "no thank you. I will throw it out the moment I get off this train, so you should really save it." But being the compassionate person that I am, I knew he was going to be upset if I didn't take it and truthfully, I wanted him to go home satisfied. So I took it from him, smiled, and nodded. I hope he had a blissfully carefree evening and slept in a world where everything was idealistically his way.
Being me
My friend, C, suggested that I start another blog. ANOTHER. I have the professional one, the family one, the school one... I might be blogged out, not one blog left, every blog wrung from my bloggy fingers- or maybe it's true I might have stage fright on all my other blogs.
So here's me and my plastic mug. And here's me trying to come up with a good metaphor for the plastic mug...
Reusable mug= environmentally friendly me
plastic mug= my game face
plastic mug= unbreakable
Anyways, let's see how well I can actually juggle them all.
So here's me and my plastic mug. And here's me trying to come up with a good metaphor for the plastic mug...
Reusable mug= environmentally friendly me
plastic mug= my game face
plastic mug= unbreakable
Anyways, let's see how well I can actually juggle them all.
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