Sunday, April 30, 2006

Progress, because I promised

It's still very rough, still has a lot of work - but an hour or two added has left it here.

(Carrie - is this enough to be properly excused earlier in the week? :) )

close-up


cock-eyed photo of the whole painting


Did I mention the whole lot of work left to be done? I cannot stress that enough. But I figured I owed you a progress report. Hope your weeknds went well too. I'll write more on mine tomorrow. I just feel awesome to have done just this hour or so of work on this right now, let alone truly enjoyed all the time previous. I'd forgotten how wonderful weekends were!

Friday, April 28, 2006

Six Months

He makes me toad-in-the-holes and thick strawberry smoothies for dinner.

He takes me to fancy dinners and broadway shows, all dressed up . . .because *I* like them.

He never tires of playing tourist with me, even when it means riding on a bus for an hour so I can see a new neighborhood.



He explains any question I have during a baseball game, not matter how intense the moment is.

He knows what I love to do, who I hope to be; and does everything in his power to help me make it real. Even when it's not easy.

He never gets tired of my worries and concerns. And he always has resolutions for them.

He hides love notes in my wallet next to my corporate card when I go on business trips.

He always gives me money for taxis in the morning to class, so I can sleep "ten more minutes."

He always makes the bed and feeds the cats.

He never complains, no matter how many times I ask him which shirt/dress/outfit looks better.

He treasures our albums of our life together, and by that, makes me feel treasured.

He reads the books I'm crazy about, and then talks to me at length about them.

He remembers my favorite artists.

He brings me subway sandwiches when I have to work late.

He never hesitates to be foolish with me.



He never lets me get too serious.

He lets me get mad and vent and complain about my job, but never makes me feel bad for always going back.

He reminds me of what I'm good at.

He gives me piggy-back rides when my feet hurt. Up four flights of stairs.

He listens to me plan endlessly for our "someday" house. He remembers what I say.

He tucks me in, every night, with a kiss.

When one of my dear friends is having a hard time, he always always always offers to send me there. Tomorrow. No matter the distance.

He hides little chocolates in my lunches.

He laughs at my jokes.

He always tells me I'm the prettiest/coolest girl in the room. And I believe he really thinks so.

He goes with me to the doctor when I'm scared.

He walks endlessly through Williams and Sonoma as I wander about planning elaborate "someday" meals.

He knows sometimes when I cry I don't always have a specific reason, and he holds me and hands me kleenex until I feel better.

He knows sometimes when I laugh tears stream down my face and he takes special joy out of it when that happens. And tries to make that happen on a regular basis.

He cares for me, openly and honestly, and never goes one day without repeatedly telling me he loves me dearly.

He's my best friend, my favorite person, my one true love. And I am blessed every day for being able to share his life. He has made my life inexplicably better, richer . . . happier. I did not know how wonderful, truly, life could be before I met him.

He is my husband. I am his wife.

Never have words held such promise to me.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Monday, April 24, 2006

Do you pray?

Victor Nizovtsev

Sarah asked me a question a few weeks ago about belief, religion, faith -- we have these conversations a lot and I relish them. And in addition to Sarah's prompting, I've found that it's been a running theme in my life in general a lot lately. I've been thinking and talking a lot about spiritual philosophy and religious leanings. . . it feels right to follow through and write it all down. And, well, I promised Sarah I would. So, I am, belatedly, following through on a promise to a friend:

What I Think
I'm not overtly religious. I don't believe a spiritual path is something one must share, nor do I believe it's anyone's perogative to "convert" anyone else, or even begin to think their path is the right one and there are people who are "wrong".

I do believe, however, I am extremely fortunate to have found a path I can walk in safety and comfort. That I have found a set of beliefs that give me strength when I am weak and guidance when I am lost. I have found when I am conscious of my spiritual state and make an effort to cultivate a loving and peaceful way, I am in a far better place. My path is important to me and it is something I make time to pay attention to.

It's not important, really, what that path is to anyone but me.

What I have found, however, is that I am suddenly in a place where there are so many cultures and belief systems it's absolutely staggering. And I am thrilled to be able to live in such a place. Where a few blocks in one direction is a mosque, and in the other a synagogue; I must pass a dozen different christian churches on my way to class. I love this diversity. I find it amazing and wonderful. When I think about why I love it here, this is one of the main things that come to mind.

I have long been tremendously interested in other people's beliefs. Fostered by a father who constantly pushed my thought processes as a child, talking to me about bits of everything - greek myths, the Koran, even the definition of time. I was taught from an early age that knowledge breeds understanding, and that each person who walks this earth deserves to do so (without harm) as they believe is right. It is one of the greatest gifts given to me by my parents.

And aside from what my myriad of personal beliefs are, I do have one specifically that lately has been on my mind. And it - without a doubt - always makes me feel wonderfully warm and loved and protected.

And that is that the powers that have created this world and keep it turning have done a truly amazing and caring thing. We, as a race - as inhabitors of this world- have been given so very many paths to choose from. No one must go without. We have gods and godesses, saviors and messiahs, prophets and saints. We have giant stone cathedrals, small grassy knolls; governmentally recognized holidays, nights of prayer that go unnoticed. Talismans and statues, crosses and stars. We have been provided with so much to hold onto, if only we look to find what we need.

How amazing is that? How loving? How benevolent?

The power that turns the stars has also given us the choice as to how we want to turn our hearts. And amazingly, despite the all of the intricate and defining differences, they all have one thing in common: their message.

Love. Be kind. Live true.

Despite how or why or when or where- what book is read, what deity honored, it's just that simple.

And in this city of steel and stone, with its multiplex of customs, traditions and legacies, I feel blessed to know that each of us, in our own way has been provided for. It is no small gift.


"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share/ And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere." Dar Williams

Friday, April 21, 2006

Hus-bad

Yesterday in my post I made a typo I only noticed today.

I misspelled "husband" as husbad.

I've decided that is what I shall call him from here on out. Cause it's funny. And appropriate on so many levels.

*** This is my disclaimer that OF COURSE I have the best husband ever. He does the laundry and the dishes and packs my lunches and pretty much does ALL the chores. But if you know him AT ALL, you will understand why husbad is so very right.

I can't fight the universe.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Things I Love

No time yesterday, but making time today . . . :)

the sound of birds chirping at my window
the taste of a vanilla cherry-dipped cone in the summer
sand between my toes
the smell of turpentine
a strong clean wind
open spaces
christmas in the city
thunderstorms
movies with popcorn and pop
celebrating days-a-versaries with Sam
hearing hagen say "aunt kittie"
riding with the top down on an endless highway, music as loud as it can get
dancing barefoot in my living room
lying in the sun
hats
holidays, any and all
especially Halloween
sitting next to my husbad at baseball games
getting all dressed up and going out
early mornings/late nights with good friends
being funny enough to make sarah snort when she laughs
family gatherings
walking the city to the music on my iPOD
new brightly colored shoes
curious george
the sound of a child's laugh
hearing little sarah say "i love you to the moon and back!"
that first hug when you've been away from home too long
eatting breakfast with Sam on a weekday morning
disney rice krispie treats
central park zoo
the smell of cinnamon
waking up in a house knowing good friends are in the next room
polar bears, monkeys, tiny birds
preparing a meal and setting a table for people I love
surprises
taking a nap on my made bed on a lazy afternoon
doing good work
orange lilies and daisies
planning adventures
reading a compelling book - becoming totally engrossed in it
that moment in class where I know I've reached someone
feeling healthy
Sam's laugh
vanilla ice cream with Hershey's syrup
wandering through a museum
dancing stuffed Stitches
star-filled skies
"Sunflower Sutra"
falling asleep in Sam's arms
flying over Manhattan; coming home

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Misgivings

I often look at Sam and say, "Let's feast!" and then spend dayss planning the perfect menu. People ask me occassionally why I would go through the trouble to cook something fancy for just the two of us. But I cannot imagine cooking for a large number of people. For me, it's not about how many can enjoy the meal, or to what great extravangance I can go to -- it's about a gift I can give.

The care I can take to make sure it's right, perfect, delicious. Not for twenty, but for two. It's about feeding him. Taking care. Sustaining, simply, our lives. Sustaining this moment in time. Savoring, relishing - not just the meal but now. Here. Where we are. Scents evoke memory like little else. Meals pivot occassions.

Let me take an hour or two to give you a precious sequence of time. Because so much hurries us on our way. This is my chance to slow time for the two of us . . . whenever wherever we are. So that when we return to our lives, our races, our harried days - we have the whisp of this meal to follow back.

Misgivings
"Perhaps you'll tire of me," muses
my love, although she's like a great city
to me, or a park that finds new
ways to wear each flounce of light
and investiture of weather.
Soil doesn't tire of rain, I think,

but I know what she fears: plans warp,
planes explode, topsoil gets peeled away
by floods. And worse than what we can't
control is what we could; those drab
scuttled marriages we shed so
gratefully may auger we're on our owns

for good reason. "Hi, honey," chirps Dread
when I come through the door; "you're home."
Experience is a great teacher
of the value of experience,
its claustrophobic prudence,
its gloomy name-the-disasters-

in-advance charisma. Listen,
my wary one, it's far too late
to unlove each other. Instead let's cook
something elaborate and not
invite anyone to share it but eat it
all up very very slowly.

- by William Matthews, After All: Last Poems (Mariner Books, 2000)

Not much to say

I've been awful at updating, I know. I've been in a sort of weird place, figuring out what I want to do with my days and better ways to spend my nights.

It all comes down to I've been working too much, and not everyone I work with is all that pleasant. I won't go into it, of course. But the last week or so has had me re-evaluating where I am and where the focus of my time is and I've decided it's way out of whack. It's hard for me to reprioritize, though. I, at my very core, am a pleaser. I want to make everyone happy. I don't want to disappoint. But sadly that often means *I* am disappointed. And after one too many discussions with Sam about this, ones where I'm in tears and he's trying desperately to get me to understand we can solve it -- I have decided to do exactly what he's been telling me to do.

Figure out what makes me happy. Make lists. (See? You didn't expect that, huh? Cause I lurve me some lists. You'd think I'd do this right pronto. But of course it takes a few weeks of upseted-ness for me to sit down and just solve it all already.)

SO . . . Things that make me happy:

Reading - I love that feeling of not being able to WAIT to pick the book back up again, of learning new things and exploring new worlds and characters

Painting - I'm terrified of starting again. But I am. And once a week I'm making time for it. I have a feeling though once I DO get back in the swing it will be a lot more often than once a week. Right now is the self-portrait; next the urban saints.

Designing - I know, this is my day job and I'm supposed to hate the dreaded 40 hours. But see. I, um, am GOOD at it. As boastful as that sounds. Damn good, in fact. And solving business objectives with visual design is like my own personal rubix cube. And I'm lucky to do it every day. But I need to do it on my own terms once in a while. So I'm making time for this as well. I need a new site. I'm makign it a priority to do new, good work and then show people what I'm capable of. I'm pretty excited about it.

Writing - I'm not great, but I enjoy it. So look forward to more of this - but inifintely better.

The gym - Now, let's be honest right here. I don't love this. But I miss feeling good about how I look. All the time. I miss not thinking about it ever, and I want to get back there. So, back to the gym. Or rather going on a regular basis. So the gym bag is at my feet presently and I'm dedicating myself to progress.

Those really are the top things. I love curling up in bed amongst the pillows with a good book, the light shining in my corner of the room. Kittens at my feet. Or how when I'm painting the whole world drops a way and I can stop thinking for a bit and just create, in a way that never happens when I'm designing. But of course, there's the challenge of design; the mental gymnastics I love. That's a whole entry in itself.

So I'm figuring it out. Somehow. I'm a libra, I need balance. And right now there's very little of that in my life. There needs to be more and I'm the only one that can do it. So I am. I'm trying, and that’s the first step. I promise not to wax poetic here for a while, I know it's been way boring for everyone not me for weeks.

And in response to the need to stop navel-gazing, I'll answer Em's question from a few weeks back. Below the tattoo I'm getting. For my 32nd birthday. I still need to design the exact details, but here's *where* and *what*.



dragonfly, between my shoulders

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Orange you glad?

So Sam packs my lunch for me almost every day. Thereby I eat my packed lunch as it was so cool he packed it. When *I* pack it, well, who cares. It's a trick to get my self to eat healthily and thankfully Sam plays along.

The last couple days Sam has sliced an orange up for me to eat as a snack.

Just now I put the orange slice in my mouth and made faces, totally cracking myself up. However, as I was at my desk, no one else got to join in the fun.

I'm not sure what this says about me and my only child complex. Nonetheless, I was greatly amused.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

a long rambling entry. but i feel better. :)

I've been working a lot. And that takes up lots of energy. It's been good, I've been on point and have been proud of the work we're doing - I was even promoted, which is cool. But it's exhausting, and seemingly never-ending - and leaves me not much time for here. In addition, I've been distracted as of late with my own thoughts and concerns - and by being overcome by them, and not wanting to talk about them particularly - when I've had the time tp write here I've found other things to do. But this morning I realized I was doing myself a disservice, as part of me having this blog is talking and communicating and knowing I can say things that worry me out loud without being burdensome or whiney. And so, I figured I should share what's on my mind. That, and something a fellow officemate said this morning made me think twice about HOW I was moping. Turned it on end, I guess. So I figured that was worth something too.

See, right before Sam and I got married I went in for a normal check-up and the doctor found something that didn't seem right. So the very same week we got home after the wedding, I went in for a biopsy to make sure everything was okay. Awesome. Amazing timing. Anyway, it turned out it was. Or at least not dire. Apparently there are six levels for what she was analyzing - 1 being it goes away by itself, six being cancer. That's such a weird word to type out. So I was level 4. So good news, no cancer. Bad news I go through all the tests every four months to make sure nothing has progressed into anything scary.

So yeah, four months to forget, two weeks to become totally terrified at random moments something will go horribly wrong. I'm at the start of week two. And I'm at once scared and determined to not fret. These two weeks of waiting for tests results do a number on my already great penchant for over-worrying. It's great practice for keeping things in perspective.

Cause see, it's this big thing to me. It scares me and worries me and seems so, well, it seems so much bigger than I can take on if it takes a wrong turn. But you know what?

It's not. Because I am so.very.lucky.

So, so what. So for two weeks every four months for the next two years I worry and don't know what the future holds; and have to hope for the best. Who doesn't? Everyone has their own personal struggles, their own travesties and drama. No one lives a life untouched by sadness or difficulties. What matters, I guess, is where I’m at right now. The realization of all the blessings and luck and favor I have been granted in my life.

And how, really, this is nothing at all. Not truly. Even if it becomes the unsaid event, the wrongness I worry over – well, I’ll deal with it. With my husband and my chosen-family and we’ll all be fine.

Not everyone has that choice. The choice of good available medical care. The choice of not being alone. The choice of sharing the burden. Of being loved.

Not everyone laughs every day. Not everyone looks at their life and can say, “Yes. This is good.”

But I can. And that makes all the worry and all the anxiety seem meaningless and futile and more than just a little bit selfish. Because it is.

I’m choosing today to be grateful. And happy. And glad, for EVERYTHING. The good stuff and the bad stuff. Because it all makes me want to celebrate my life and my friends and my hopes for what’s next.

I said today at work I thought we should do more for those in need, mor ecommunity service. Someone responded "but *I* am in great need!" I wanted to shake her. We ALL are! I wanted to say. But look! Look at how BLESSED we are. We are rich. Beyond words. And that means we have enough to share. And as humans that is our function, our reasoning, our purpose.

To be able to step back from our own trifles and struggles and share what we are rich in with those who are not so. To share the kindnesses and the gentleness. The love we revel in everyday.

I’m not sure, right this moment, what will come next in my life. In my day. But that is my goal. It’s only through this thought, this action I believe we can truly change our own lives. Solve our own worries. Put them down and find something better to carry. And, truly, how can that not be grand?

a long rambling entry. but i feel better. :)

I've been working a lot. And that takes up lots of energy. It's been good, I've been on point and have been proud of the work we're doing - I was even promoted, which is cool. But it's exhausting, and seemingly never-ending - and leaves me not much time for here. In addition, I've been distracted as of late with my own thoughts and concerns - and by being overcome by them, and not wanting to talk about them particularly - when I've had the time tp write here I've found other things to do. But this morning I realized I was doing myself a disservice, as part of me having this blog is talking and communicating and knowing I can say things that worry me out loud without being burdensome or whiney. And so, I figured I should share what's on my mind. That, and something a fellow officemate said this morning made me think twice about HOW I was moping. Turned it on end, I guess. So I figured that was worth something too.

See, right before Sam and I got married I went in for a normal check-up and the doctor found something that didn't seem right. So the very same week we got home after the wedding, I went in for a biopsy to make sure everything was okay. Awesome. Amazing timing. Anyway, it turned out it was. Or at least not dire. Apparently there are six levels for what she was analyzing - 1 being it goes away by itself, six being cancer. That's such a weird word to type out. So I was level 4. So good news, no cancer. Bad news I go through all the tests every four months to make sure nothing has progressed into anything scary.

So yeah, four months to forget, two weeks to become totally terrified at random moments something will go horribly wrong. I'm at the start of week two. And I'm at once scared and determined to not fret. These two weeks of waiting for tests results do a number on my already great penchant for over-worrying. It's great practice for keeping things in perspective.

Cause see, it's this big thing to me. It scares me and worries me and seems so, well, it seems so much bigger than I can take on if it takes a wrong turn. But you know what?

It's not. Because I am so.very.lucky.

So, so what. So for two weeks every four months for the next two years I worry and don't know what the future holds; and have to hope for the best. Who doesn't? Everyone has their own personal struggles, their own travesties and drama. No one lives a life untouched by sadness or difficulties. What matters, I guess, is where I’m at right now. The realization of all the blessings and luck and favor I have been granted in my life.

And how, really, this is nothing at all. Not truly. Even if it becomes the unsaid event, the wrongness I worry over – well, I’ll deal with it. With my husband and my chosen-family and we’ll all be fine.

Not everyone has that choice. The choice of good available medical care. The choice of not being alone. The choice of sharing the burden. Of being loved.

Not everyone laughs every day. Not everyone looks at their life and can say, “Yes. This is good.”

But I can. And that makes all the worry and all the anxiety seem meaningless and futile and more than just a little bit selfish. Because it is.

I’m choosing today to be grateful. And happy. And glad, for EVERYTHING. The good stuff and the bad stuff. Because it all makes me want to celebrate my life and my friends and my hopes for what’s next.

I said today at work I thought we should do more for those in need, mor ecommunity service. Someone responded "but *I* am in great need!" I wanted to shake her. We ALL are! I wanted to say. But look! Look at how BLESSED we are. We are rich. Beyond words. And that means we have enough to share. And as humans that is our function, our reasoning, our purpose.

To be able to step back from our own trifles and struggles and share what we are rich in with those who are not so. To share the kindnesses and the gentleness. The love we revel in everyday.

I’m not sure, right this moment, what will come next in my life. In my day. But that is my goal. It’s only through this thought, this action I believe we can truly change our own lives. Solve our own worries. Put them down and find something better to carry. And, truly, how can that not be grand?

Sunday, April 09, 2006

A lot of catching Up

I've been working a lot lately, and haven't been as recent to all this as I'd like. But this morning before class I heard the news about Iran and all the madness brewing, and I thought about hopw long it had been since I got just chat on the phone with a good friend for hours opn end, and spent an afternoon worrying and doing nothing and I remembered something I wrote some time ago - and figured it bared repeating. As, well, it's still how I feel today. Crushingly.

This is what I want - 02.21.03

I want to spin and spin in a crowded room, surrounded by friends. I want the music to be so loud we can't talk, but have to communicate with smiles and winks and absurd hand gestures.

I want my hair to fall in my face and have it brushed aside by his hand as he pulls me close as the music slows. I want to be able to lean into him and not have to worry about standing on my own. I want all my worries to be centered around where he'll put his hands when we dance, and where we'll go when they turn the lights back on.


I want all my friends in one place, safe and happy - filled with music and laughter.

I want our voices to be hoarse from yelling and our heads heavy from drink and adventure.


I want for my worries to be all about how we'll all manage to do this again in a few weeks. I want my future plans to only be concerned with thoughts of more music and close friends.

And where they sell good greasy food at four in the morning.

I want to sneak a cigarette at the bar as everyone else goes to check out the next floor of the club. I want bum a light and whisper conspiratorially as we hide in the corner, smoke coming out of our mouths and gin sloshing in our glasses.


I want to know once again, what it is to laugh until I cry. What it feels like when my cheeks are sore from smiling.


I don't want to know who our allies are. What country we plan on stomping through on our way to wage war. I want to stop counting those I know who are no longer here, but elsewhere in a sandy and strange desert. I don't want to turn the radio on in the morning wondering what the news will bring. I am tired of hearing the arguments and the rationalizations and reasons. I'm tired of the bright lights and complex systems.


I want to keep my loved ones close, in the darkness. I want us to dance until we can no longer stand, hold each other close and walk home. To a home that's safe, and right , and just.


I want midnight burritos and shots of tequila. I don't want these adult concerns and responsibilities.


I want peace.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Today really is Monday.

Got up, felt fine - got knocked on my ass with sickness. Still at work. AWESOME.

Received wedding album after much work and many weeks/months. Page missing. Cue hormonal instant tears.

BUT as of right now the Mets are ahead in their season opener and as this should not really affect me, it does, by association.(They won! Even better.)

AND in a mere five months Sam and I will be staying here:





And the next night here:



While driving by places like this:



And this:



And it will be green and lovely and awesomely Irish. And there will be castles and pagan stonecrafts and gaelic being spoken. And really, despite the crappy Monday, one can't help but be happy for all that.

In fact I can't be unhappy at just the sheer awesomeness of our planned travels this year. Starting with of course, the greatly under-rated Salina KS, followed by the ever-wonderful beachiness of the bahamas, a quick jaunt east to Ireland, than a turn-around-west lovely stay in the tropics of Hawaii.

Is this my life? I love it! Screw you, crappy Monday.