I'm making dinner right now. Bill has started his new schedule and I'm cooking for one on Mondays. I am actually really excited tonight. Last year I made a stuffed squash with lots of sage, white wine and parmesan in the filling. The combo was fantastic - sweet, acidic, cheesy- so I am trying to recreate it. I don't have a squash but I have one little sweet potato, so I'm making a sage, garlic, sweet potato and parmesan rice pilaf. I am ten minutes away from knowing if it is awesome or not.
Work beat me down today. I have worked there for three months and I am already the one in charge when management leaves. Whatever. I've got a key and a teeny bit of authority. I was managing big projects before this job, so remembering to lock up doesn't scare me. Still, every yahoo waited until the owner left to call and bitch about things I don't even understand. It was a stressful afternoon - but it's over.
I was forced, absolutely forced to open a new bottle of wine to add a splash to my dinner, so I have a lovely glass of 04 Jadot Chablis right now. It hits the spot.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Fucking Coincidence
There were two men I knew.
One was a retired car dealer who moved to Arizona and had to be six and a half feet tall. I met him once, when travelling, and though I was only the girlfriend of the son of his son's new wife, he was so kind to me. He was loud and charming and probably had been a wonderful salesman. He made me feel right at home. We watched bad reality TV together and commented on the contestants.
The other was an immigrant who raised five kids and supported them by cooking in kitchens all around Chicago. He later retired and helped his wife open a beauty shop. None of his kids or his wife ever learned to cook because he made delicious and elaborate meals for every occasion. His six grandkids all called him Pops. He loved my sister instantly. She was an outsider and not Catholic. He spoke very little English and she doesn't know Spanish, but he loved her and adored the granddaughter she brought into his life.
Both were older and both we sick with painful diseases. They lived half a continent away from one another and I might be the only person in the world who knew them both. Both were good fathers and both had loving marraiges that lasted decades. Both died today - the same damn day, and left those wives, children and grandchildren heartbroken. If two people I knew had babies on the same day, I would call it a miracle, but this is a cruel blow. The world gives but it takes away. So, Parker and Jose, wherever you are, your families love you so very much.
One was a retired car dealer who moved to Arizona and had to be six and a half feet tall. I met him once, when travelling, and though I was only the girlfriend of the son of his son's new wife, he was so kind to me. He was loud and charming and probably had been a wonderful salesman. He made me feel right at home. We watched bad reality TV together and commented on the contestants.
The other was an immigrant who raised five kids and supported them by cooking in kitchens all around Chicago. He later retired and helped his wife open a beauty shop. None of his kids or his wife ever learned to cook because he made delicious and elaborate meals for every occasion. His six grandkids all called him Pops. He loved my sister instantly. She was an outsider and not Catholic. He spoke very little English and she doesn't know Spanish, but he loved her and adored the granddaughter she brought into his life.
Both were older and both we sick with painful diseases. They lived half a continent away from one another and I might be the only person in the world who knew them both. Both were good fathers and both had loving marraiges that lasted decades. Both died today - the same damn day, and left those wives, children and grandchildren heartbroken. If two people I knew had babies on the same day, I would call it a miracle, but this is a cruel blow. The world gives but it takes away. So, Parker and Jose, wherever you are, your families love you so very much.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Full Moon
I hope it is the full moon. I have been tense, pissy and mentally clouded all day. I cannot keep up with the fairly simple demands of my job. I forgot details and put down papers and walked away. I was a true space cadet. That wouldn't matter too much if I didn't have to drive on the highway to get home.
The car and I are each still whole, so that's great. I almost got hit by an SUV and a I later almost hit a car. By almost hit, I don't mean had to break or swerve. I mean I was centimeters away driving at top speeds. Both could have been fatal and I defied the laws of physics by not grinding into that SUV as we both merged into the center lane from opposite sides. It was lovely.
Home is empty with Bill out for his Tuesday night pool playing. I checked my email and read the message boards on a website I frequent. I think I need to cut that out. First, the snob in me doesn't want to spend that much energy invested in cyberspace. The judgemental part of me doesn't think it's healthy to rely on the internet for social satisfaction. The pissy part of me wants to tell a few morons a few things about the real world and the very fact that I can get so upset about the words of strangers tells me I've crossed a boundary and need to check myself.
I don't really have any friends close by, at least not any more. It is so much harder after college. Bill grew up a few miles away, so he has plenty of childhood friends around. I don't have that anymore and it can be hard.
The car and I are each still whole, so that's great. I almost got hit by an SUV and a I later almost hit a car. By almost hit, I don't mean had to break or swerve. I mean I was centimeters away driving at top speeds. Both could have been fatal and I defied the laws of physics by not grinding into that SUV as we both merged into the center lane from opposite sides. It was lovely.
Home is empty with Bill out for his Tuesday night pool playing. I checked my email and read the message boards on a website I frequent. I think I need to cut that out. First, the snob in me doesn't want to spend that much energy invested in cyberspace. The judgemental part of me doesn't think it's healthy to rely on the internet for social satisfaction. The pissy part of me wants to tell a few morons a few things about the real world and the very fact that I can get so upset about the words of strangers tells me I've crossed a boundary and need to check myself.
I don't really have any friends close by, at least not any more. It is so much harder after college. Bill grew up a few miles away, so he has plenty of childhood friends around. I don't have that anymore and it can be hard.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Pissy
Today, I'm sad. Bill has legal troubles and I am selfishly angry about them - very angry. We need that money to buy a house and get married. I have money issues already. Seeing our plans float further into the future because of money makes me want to rip out my eyeballs. I have no idea where my job is going. I feel it's secure, but what do I know?
I feel like crying.
I feel like crying.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
In an effort to actually track my days...
Today was a beautiful fall day. We took a walk and I bought new canvases to paint on. We went to dinner with my accross the hall neighbor. The "institution" Italian restaurant in the neighborhood was having an off night - rubbery calamari and Bill's vodka sauce was not good. Our server was a straight up beeotch too. Still, no dishes to wash and we are home early for ANTM and Project Runway. I'm about to crack open a bottle of Chablis. I've got my feed-the-birds cardigan ready since it isn't quite time to turn on the heat. I love Wednesdays. I really do.
My sister's baby (at 21 months) is learning defiance and choosing daddy this week. "Help please! No Mommy, Daddy!" and "All done Daddy. No Mommy." My poor sister. I think it makes her a little sad to be number two for the first time ever.
My sister's baby (at 21 months) is learning defiance and choosing daddy this week. "Help please! No Mommy, Daddy!" and "All done Daddy. No Mommy." My poor sister. I think it makes her a little sad to be number two for the first time ever.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Future Me
For two years now, I have written an email to myself and had it delivered exactly one year later, as part of a "time capsule" project. Each letter has been addressed "Dear Future Me." I wrote about my baby sister becoming a mother, wishing myself to stop smoking for good (YAY, I really did that) and my boyfriend.
When I imagined my life when I was young, there were a few important factors that defined the grownup I wanted to be.
They are: art, open outdoor space, dogs, cooking, comfort, love, freedom, creativity...
I could probably go on for pages but I will spare anyone who reads this. I am not me unless I can spread out and be creative. I am not me unless I can mess around the schedule and make my own. Today, I felt like me a bit.
I went to a wine tasting on behalf of the job. I was uncomfortable once I arrived. I felt mentally clouded and totally uncool. Everyone seemed to know one another and they were all fakey-fakey. I had slight high school flashbacks. Look at me, the fattest girl here and the most dowdy! The men were all metro and wearing ties and sweaters with jeans. The girls were ditzy but thin and drawing attention. I was the one in flats and pants - yet again.
Still, I force myself to smile and talk to a few strangers. I could have networked a bit more, but this was an honestly douchey crowd. I made the best of it and left.
What felt awesome was the afternoon to myself. I had a few extra hours. I walked and shopped the Goodwill. I contemplated Halloween costumes. I made dinner at a leisurely pace. I drank wine while cooking and talked to my sister on the phone.
Sometimes I think my standards are wacky and sometimes I think I am so blessed. Does anyone really want more than to cook for a loving partner and talk on the phone and drink wine and walk around the city for a few hours every day?
One thing I never ever ever imagined as a young girl was real romantic love. I was a pessimist from adolescence. A boy name Charles blew me off when we had a distinct plan to go see Con Air. Guys at school would ask me about my slutty best friend or sexy baby sister or trigonometry. My mother was the world's bitterest divorcee. My deck was stacked for misery and I accepted it. I spent much of college in women's' studies classrooms and rejecting any cocktails purchased for me at bars. I fell for conceited jerks and cried when they dated skinny morons. I was fairly textbook for man issues.
I lucked out so much with my boyfriend. Sometimes, I think I used up all my luck and I am now cursed for career and such. See, I got the best and most attractive man I have ever met to fall in love with me. Sometimes, I think this far exceeds my lifetime allowance of happy points and as such I am doomed to never find my path in life.
For every youthful fantasy of happiness I created, there was never a man in the picture. When I fell in love with Bill, three plus years ago, I had to readjust mentally. It was a couple years into our relationship that I realized that someday, when we had children, we would both get a say in the way our kids were raised. Ridiculous, yes - but I had never seen two parents work together. That realization floored me and as a person who has worried about the implications of string theory since I was twelve, I like to consider my contingencies well thought out. I had imagined children but never imagined a dad in the picture. I had even imagined a wedding but never imagined a marriage. I guess I just assumed romances would always end (cough, cough, my issues, cough).
So, as I adjust to keeping Bill forever. I wish and I hope and I finally imagine a future me who isn't the tough and independent woman of my adolescent fantasies. She is similar in many ways but happier and softer too. Her independence is loose and free, not hard and defiant. Future me will not be the exact replica of the woman I imagined when I was a teenager. That can be scary when I realize my outline has disappeared.
When I imagined my life when I was young, there were a few important factors that defined the grownup I wanted to be.
They are: art, open outdoor space, dogs, cooking, comfort, love, freedom, creativity...
I could probably go on for pages but I will spare anyone who reads this. I am not me unless I can spread out and be creative. I am not me unless I can mess around the schedule and make my own. Today, I felt like me a bit.
I went to a wine tasting on behalf of the job. I was uncomfortable once I arrived. I felt mentally clouded and totally uncool. Everyone seemed to know one another and they were all fakey-fakey. I had slight high school flashbacks. Look at me, the fattest girl here and the most dowdy! The men were all metro and wearing ties and sweaters with jeans. The girls were ditzy but thin and drawing attention. I was the one in flats and pants - yet again.
Still, I force myself to smile and talk to a few strangers. I could have networked a bit more, but this was an honestly douchey crowd. I made the best of it and left.
What felt awesome was the afternoon to myself. I had a few extra hours. I walked and shopped the Goodwill. I contemplated Halloween costumes. I made dinner at a leisurely pace. I drank wine while cooking and talked to my sister on the phone.
Sometimes I think my standards are wacky and sometimes I think I am so blessed. Does anyone really want more than to cook for a loving partner and talk on the phone and drink wine and walk around the city for a few hours every day?
One thing I never ever ever imagined as a young girl was real romantic love. I was a pessimist from adolescence. A boy name Charles blew me off when we had a distinct plan to go see Con Air. Guys at school would ask me about my slutty best friend or sexy baby sister or trigonometry. My mother was the world's bitterest divorcee. My deck was stacked for misery and I accepted it. I spent much of college in women's' studies classrooms and rejecting any cocktails purchased for me at bars. I fell for conceited jerks and cried when they dated skinny morons. I was fairly textbook for man issues.
I lucked out so much with my boyfriend. Sometimes, I think I used up all my luck and I am now cursed for career and such. See, I got the best and most attractive man I have ever met to fall in love with me. Sometimes, I think this far exceeds my lifetime allowance of happy points and as such I am doomed to never find my path in life.
For every youthful fantasy of happiness I created, there was never a man in the picture. When I fell in love with Bill, three plus years ago, I had to readjust mentally. It was a couple years into our relationship that I realized that someday, when we had children, we would both get a say in the way our kids were raised. Ridiculous, yes - but I had never seen two parents work together. That realization floored me and as a person who has worried about the implications of string theory since I was twelve, I like to consider my contingencies well thought out. I had imagined children but never imagined a dad in the picture. I had even imagined a wedding but never imagined a marriage. I guess I just assumed romances would always end (cough, cough, my issues, cough).
So, as I adjust to keeping Bill forever. I wish and I hope and I finally imagine a future me who isn't the tough and independent woman of my adolescent fantasies. She is similar in many ways but happier and softer too. Her independence is loose and free, not hard and defiant. Future me will not be the exact replica of the woman I imagined when I was a teenager. That can be scary when I realize my outline has disappeared.
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