Happy Weekend!

The Best Vacation We Never Took

So, no Scotland. Every flight out of Newark that night was cancelled. We did, however, get the full airport experience by waiting in line for two and a half hours trying to catch a bus back to Manhattan in the sleet and cold. Awesome.

But! Regardless of the lost trip - the adventure was still had. Dave stayed all weekend, and Amy took the train at midnight to Penn Station and we had a grand time. I spent all day Saturday swearing I was too tired and cold to go out, and then ended up finding the company was too good all day long to bail. I believe we all crashed to sleep at last at 3am Sunday morning.

You know you have good friends when missing out on a Scotland trip doesn't seem so bad. (There will be pictures forthcoming.)

Things here, while they haven't exactly slowed down, have gotten managable. And this week teems with great fun and potential blog-matter.

May, Mikki and I are going wig shopping soon ( I want one and fully intend on relying heavily on all advice they have offered to give on what color and style is best). And as if buying a wig and fancy fake eyelashes isn't enough - we're all going out to hear our friend Doug's band play Thursday night - when I'll be wearing the aforementioned wig.

Oh so fab.

That night is also my friend Steven's going away party - which, while sad he's moving all the way to the other side of the world, is tremendously happy as it's SUCH a great oppostunity for him and his wife. AND Sam and I are already looking for tickets to go visit them in the fall. Singapore for Thanksgiving! Woot!

AND (it just doesnt stop!) we have a friend getting married (a girl I work with) on Friday. And Work Weddings are always the BEST. Even better, we get to all get super fancy dressed up, drink, and dance and make general fools of ourselves with some of the coolst people we know.

It's a week worth waiting for, I tell you. Hands down.

Scotland!

Things here have been crazy busy - but no matter.

Sam and I leave for Scotland tonight for the weekend! Be back Monday!

No Better Place (Just sometimes I forget)

It's been a bit rought here lately. I've been sick and a little sad and more than a little overhwelmed. I promise to write for real soon. I've started a lot of entries, all about the things I'm thinking about, the plans I'm making. All of which involve us staying here, digging our roots in even deeper than they are now. In the entry below I talk about how it's somehow inevitable that we someday leave this city, and now? Well, now I'm not so sure. We really have made this home and thrived. And I'm so very proud of us for that.

II can't put to words how very lucky I am. To be here, with Sam. To be living this life. So I went back and found an old, old entry that talks about that and figured I'd share. ( I know Aunt Judy and Dave haven't seen this, and well, honestly I know I owe them especially something to read. . . )


For No Better Place - 01.28.05


New York.

People keep asking me now if we're staying, Sam and I. As if becoming married will immediately propel us to the suburbs where we will be compelled to suddenly own SUVs and nourish already spoiled, overly-sized dogs.

And it's a hard question for me. I love this city, obviously, if you have read any of my previous posts. I came here looking for much more than the degree that brought me. The piece of paper was merely a catalyst. I wanted to find out who I was. I wanted to stop crushing madly on this place and have a downright affair with it. I wanted the city in all its mythical proportion to become real to me. To dirty my boots, wear out the soles of my feet, and teach me how to live on pasta and cereal. I wanted to know, in all honesty, if this place would break me. If it really was all people said it was.

And I wanted to know, if the person I always dreamed about being was inside of me. I had always dreamed of moving here. I had always talked of it. And when I made the decision, a good friend I hadn't seem in ten years looked at me with the most genuine expression on his face and said, "I always knew you'd end up there."

I wasn't sure I could do this. I wasn't sure I'd find what I'd hoped for here. I wanted to be here, be a part of it. I want to not just survive my experience, but thrive in it. I wanted to leave the big skies and sweeping winds of my home, and build a new one in a place that was foreign and like no other place I'd been.

And I did. And what's even more I've built a home here with Sam. This will always be our first home. This city. This place. This is where we searched for a new home together, where we ran blocks to get to the agent to make sure it was *this* one, the one we unpacked our separate stuff shoved tightly in my boxes and his boxes, and somehow ended up with a place that's ours. Where we shopped for furniture and shower curtains, and cleaned and cooked and celebrated our first Thanksgiving. Where we wandered unexplored streets and avenues together, where we happily got lost in the park together. Where we planned meals and chose produce out of balsa wood crates in a lot by a park weekend after weekend together.

This is where he asked me to spend the rest of my life with him, and because of this - New York City will always be "home" to me. In ways all the other places I have lived haven't become.

These, these memories, this "first" of our life together, makes New York City a whole 'nother place to me. It stopped being a place to conquer and a place to savor and explore and share.

If it's possible, I love it even more now. But I still dream of having a house with a yard, a space that is ours alone - where we don't hear sirens, or traffic, or neighbors constantly. Where we can paint the walls if we choose, or get in the car and drive to the mountains on a whim. I dream of it often, in fact.

But it doesn't have me packing my bags. It just has me thinking. And due to this thinking and dreaming, I know I probably won't be here forever. But right now, it feels right. It feels like home.

I never want to be the kind of person who leaves New York because she can't take it anymore - because she's lost the carefree and accepting sheen that makes piles of garbage on Sundays okay, that ignores the filth of the subway and the random passing commentary of the crazies. I never want to get fed up with New York. It'll be a sad day for my inner urban warrior if I do.

But I will leave someday. I'll kiss this city gently on the cheek as we say goodbye and thank it sincerely for all its offered. I will promise to visit often, and cry at the thought that I will soon be forgotten amongst it's masses. My story will be small and insignificant to all the other stories that have happened here. Much like I was amongst all the other people while I lived here. But my experience here, my story here, will always be monumental to me.

For why I came, what I found, and what I'll be lucky enough to leave with. My life, my sense of self -- the feeling there is nothing I can't conquer somehow. I'll be leaving for a new adventure then, I know it. And the beautiful part about it is that time, I won't be going alone.

Niagra Falls

awesome, awesome weekend

Three day weekend

I lay there, staring out the window, watching the giant flakes dance outside overtop what I couldn't see from where I was - giant, overwhelming beautiful waterfalls. Waterfalls filled with snow and ice. Covered in mist.

Curled up next to him I listened to him talk, listened to his heart beat. I thought, "I want to remember this - this moment, who we are. How we dream. What we are together." And right then I wished that he'd outlive me, because I cannot imagine my life without him, without our times spent together filling it up. I cannot imagine not having this, this moment and all the others we share all tied together: defining my time, my life, my home.

The sky was pricked with stars, the moon hung just so, and we had it so good. So lovely. So simply. There were no deadlines and obligations. No work or school or chores. It was just him and me. Just a boy, telling his girl a story about oceans and whales and desert islands as winter swirled and swam outside. And there was no place in the world I'd have rather been.

Cruise, Take 1

Well, first, of course, I have to say I had the most delicious Valentine's Day. I came home to an apartment full of candles and roses and the music from our wedding playing on our stereo - and, honestly, I coudln't have felt more loved. It's been a real hard couple of weeks; a lot of work, very little sleep, and not much quality time with my husband. The fact he still went through so much trouble - well, it meant the world.

I made him dinner, trying to find the perfect combo if items. We had beer and honey risotto, spinach souffle with roasted red pepper sauce, and . . .drumroll, please . . . steaks. Ribeye steaks with bacon molasses butter to be exact. Steaks from the Meat King himself and they make Sam so happy with their yummy goodness I could have made canned green beans and Kraft mac-n-cheese and it would have still been labeled best meal ever.

And we own such delicacies, of course, because my cousin Kathy in all her overwhelming generosity actually came to the airport as we were flying out a few weeks ago and hand delivered them. Steaks. Big bags of them. To the AIRPORT.

Nothing could have probably made Sam more ecstatic.

In fact, listening to Sam wax poetic about these piles of meat in our freezer these past couple days was enough for ME to eat steak last night. And I have not eaten a steak for a solid fifteen years at least.

And it was good.

Though I would have gladly traded it for Kathy and Fred's company, hands down.

Kathy and Fred picked us up from the airport when we flew into Houston for the cruise a month ago. Kathy was ever-patient as I tried to figure our schedule and when we might be able to see them. She even called Dave (best-man-of-all-time) and arranged it all so HE could meet us for dinner, too.

And the five of us had a FABOO time.



Ahhh, Texas. Where you cannot go ANYwhere without seeing the flag, the state, some delineation thereof. Wow. And I thought New Yorkers loved their home obsessively . . .



This is us. See us so happy? Cause we are with the best company EVER and are having a fabulous time. Have I mentioned? The fabulous time? It was such a great start to vacation . . .



This is me and the oysters. Hadn't tried them, said I would. They looked gross. But I liked them. Lots. Go figure.



Sam and I and Kathy and Fred. We're already trying to figure when and how we'll make the next trip to go see them. And have already begun a list of ways to lure them here . . . I'm so lucky to have such awesome family.



And, well, of course, Dave is family, too. And just as awesome.

OH THE MEAT!

This is Sam, stepping in for a moment to tell you about THE MEAT KING and his wonderful meats!

Misty's cousin Kathy (sweet, beautiful and super cool) and her awesome husband Fred met us the day before we went cruis'n for dinner and general good times... anyway, Fred's the Meat King and he delivered! Kathy handed off 8 or so amazing steaks to us at the airport before we flew back and I had one tonight and it was magical... OH THE MEAT! So tender and juicy and flavorfull.

Thank you Kathy and Fred!

Misty's in Miami kicking butt at her job. She left me alone to eat red meat and drink beer... but I miss my wife and wish she was here to enjoy it with me.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled bloggings...

cruise stories coming . ..

Alas, I'm working 12 hour days without a day off since we got back. Craziness has ensued and all my clothes from our trip lay strewn about our living room floor . . . and our bedroom . . .and some in the bath.

*sigh*

Sam wins husband of the year award simply for his patience.

However, the designs I'm working on now are, quite frankly, the best I've ever done. And I'm proud, prouder than I've been in a while. I love being able to stop, take a step back and realize I'm creating the kind of work I would tear out of a magazine for inspiration. I wish I could share it with you, and I will.

Just for now it's top secret.

Craziness is . . . the madness of this work runs straight through the weekend. I'll be teaching this weekend as well - leaving class Sunday afternoon, jumping in a cab to the airport for a whirlwind trip to Miami.

(Les, I'll be calling. I'm waiting to see what my schedule is like.)

I miss my tan. The sun. Time with no one but my husband.

But, well, that time will come and soon. Sam and I are headed to a fancy Niagra Falls get-away next weekend. Woo-hoo!

"I eat the air, promise-crammed"

So I know I owe you stories about the cruise, and as soon as I have all the photos loaded I shall bore you endlessly with tales of our adventures. Promise.

Til then, Hamlet and I have a lot in common. I'm doing some evaluating of my life, making some decently big decisons and feeling pretty good about potential opportunities in the future. Nothing too grand or that anyone beside me would probably really care about - but big things for myself, and hopeful exciting things I'm quite looking forward to.

Hope your air is promise-crammed as well.

Um. Ya'll I DO NOT want to be back.

Well, it was an awsome trip - and I'm already planning when we can go again.

There was sun (I'm tan for the first time in YEARS and lordy, does it feel nice), there were fruity drinks, there was much peaceful sleep on the rocking boat . . . and BEST of all, there was the company of all my "new" family.



There are not words to explain how very fun it was to spend seven whole days with these fools. Expect a full report, however, in the coming days.

For now, I can only say, BEST OUT-LAWS EVER!

Sun, here we come!

Off to spend seven days doin' nothin' but enjoying the warm warm caribbean, drinkin' only libations with umbrellas and fruit in them and re-lax-ING.

Hopefully, we'll be able to check in, but if not - see you when we get back!

Midnight Walk

I stood there with a sick feeling in my stomach. My arms were crossed in front of me as I stood at the edge of the curb, trying to look completely at ease. He would glance back from time to time and shrug helplessly as another car drove past.

I wanted to offer to do it myself, but that would just confirm to both of us what we already knew. So I stood patiently, letting him be the gentleman in the foggy light of the late night street.

When yet another car drove past, I stepped forward.

You know how I love public transportation, I'll just take the train. Or the bus. I've been a big fan of the bus lately, remember?

No. It's late and you shouldn't walk from the stop by yourself. You're taking a cab.

His voice betrayed the anger I knew he was feeling. And even though I know it wasn't directed at me I stood staring at him in shocked silence for a moment.

I'm sorry. It's just that we both know you should take a car.

Okay. So back to the curb.

I wrapped my jacket around myself and started counting people on the sidewalk. I started counting the people down the street who were hailing cabs and moments later getting in.

I started listing reasons the cars were stopping at the next corner. It was a main street. It was closer to their home. It was on the way out.

Then comparing the people who they were stopping for. They looked nicer. Richer. Older. They looked more likely to give a big tip. . .all the things but the obvious as I stood watching my friend stalwartly stand in the street, hand held high.

Unbelievable. In a city this big. With this many people and we still deal with this.

He sighed and turned toward me.

Maybe we should walk down a little farther.

Maybe.

We turned together and started down the sidewalk. I wanted to say something. I wanted him to know I was angry for him. That those drivers were idiots.

But I didn't want him to mistake it as pity. Or that I thought I could understand. I can't.

Let's walk, I said.

To your neighborhood? That's awfully far.

He looked pointedly at my feet in their fancy shoes.

I'd rather walk. I want to. We're already on the way. I like the company.

He smiled and slowed his pace.

We walked.

We didn't need a car to stop. Not then. Not tonight.

But I said a small prayer for him for the night he might really need one.

Damn city.

This City - My Love Affair Continues

I found this piece this morning and when I read it, knew I wanted to share it again. I remember those years ago, being scared to come here. Of feeling so very alone. And I remember this, too. The amazing feeling of home, of being able - despite the miles of concrete, to put down roots. To flourish. And that's the one that stuck. It does to this day. This city is still mine, in fact beautifully, it's now ours; something I would have never considered possible when I originally typed this out.

And,I am still hers. So very very many changes and years later--


My First Year

I reclaimed my city tonight. That's right, my city. I'll own her tonight.

Tonight, as I walk through the hordes of tourists in Times Square, past the beautifully lit Bryant Park. Past the men sleeping near the lions of the library, past the couple smoking on the corner outside the cafe. As I meander down fifth avenue and the stores I'll never shop at. Past all of it, past the good and the bad.

Pass the train steps, reeking of some unidentifiable smell. Pass the bodega, the smell of sunflowers and lavender and roses.

In the quiet emptiness of Lexington and 37th. The dark buildings, where I stop my music and watch my shadow to know if someone's behind me.

Through all of it. Through the business and the noise. Through the energy of millions of people sharing such a small place and somehow surviving, most of them at least.

Walking through all of it I remember why I'm here. I realize that this city is at once my greatest adversary and most loyal supporter. Where being alone is an amazing blessing. Being able to walk to the sounds of Ani Difranco and Ben Folds and Dar Williams, each step I take falling in line with the rythms. Having the sirens and horns as a strange accompaniment.

I can look up and see the absolute breath-taking beauty of the lights of the buildings against the purest black of the ever-starless sky. I can know that somehow I've have found my way here. I am finding my way here. I feel my feet hit the pavement and I know I am meant to live here. Meant to be a part of all this, how somehow I have been on a strange and meandering journey and at last it has brought me here; to this place.

To this new home. This horrible place. This city that makes me cry as much as it makes me fly.

But tonight I am flying. Tonight I am feeling powerful and at peace. Tonight I know I have made it through this year unscathed. And I will make it through another one, and one after that.

I will lay, exhausted every night, and dream of mountains instead of buildings, of fields instead of lots. I will hold the sound of the birds outside my window as I wake with a precious and cautious embrace, missing the sound of katydids in the summer. Imagining what it would be like to have lightening bugs to chase instead of cockroaches to step over.

But I will know I belong here. I will walk outside to join the thousands I pass everyday, I will smile at the doorman on 34th, guy a banana from the vendor on 36th. I will watch the myriad of people at the bus stops, I will be one of millions. I will be unimportant and small. No one will notice me, no one will care about my trials and tribulations - they have enough of their own.

And yet, I will still be here and I will still move forward and I will be better for it. I am better for it.

There will never be a time I do not close my eyes as the wind stretches across my face as I wait on the corner and not immediately feel the wind at home. The kind that blows across miles and brings you news of endless highways and infinite horizons. I will never not long for that.

I will carry my home in my heart as I traverse this perverse and bizarre place, and I believe that is what will keep me sane.

But I will still be here. And I will be glad of my choice. I will look up at the moon, who has not abandoned me as the fickle stars have. And I will know she shines on everyone and everywhere I love and I will be home.

I reclaim my city tonight. And all she is to me. And I will thank her for the best year of my life.

----

And I continue to. Thank her, that is. Because magically it seems things only get more wonderful as my time here passes.

General Jackassery

The fact I love my husband in copious amounts is pretty obvious on this blog. Also, the fact he in turn is gracious enough to love me BACK, is also pretty obvious.

I was thinking you might want to know that, in fact, sure - we're one of those couples. We hold hands under the table, I take his arm when we walk. When my feet hurt he carries me. When he's watching the game, I get him beer. Sometimes, for no reason (right flat out in public!) we kiss.

I know. I can barely stand us too.

But what really makes us work, I think, is the fact that we're both absolute jackasses sometimes.

And it makes us laugh.


People, there's A. LOT. of LAUGHING.

A lot.

Like fr'instance when we decided me pretending to lick this pole as if it were actual candy (ha! get it?!) seemed like a good idea. And I sort of "lost focus" while Sam set up the perfect shot and ACTUALLY TOUCHED THE POLE WITH MY TONGUE. You know. The pole. In New York City. With my tongue.

Yeah.

He still kissed me. And if that ain't true love? Well, my poppets, I just don't know what is.

Cruisin'

We are a mere two weeks away from taking the cruise with Sam's family.

There are not words to how much I'm looking forward to this.

Mmmmmmm . . .ocean . . . . .

I hold fast.

Jeff, Melissa, Sam and I had a rousing debate our last night together at a little Italian restaurant (where I believe the waiter was somewhat nervous to interrupt us and kept our check an hour after we had finished eating).

Over our bits of pasta, remnaents of bread and sauce we solved the world's problems. Or tried, at least.

We argued the ability to change the course of this world we share. Government versus individual action. Pandemics versus hope. Class issues, race issues. Bigotry. Apathy. Selfishness.

General American attitiudes. The rest of the world. How it's not so far away anymore.

We ran the gambit from historical references and evaluating the industrial revolution on modern times to the effect of India and China's growing work forces. The world's growing forces. The inevitable shifting of power.

We debated intently. I had tears in my eyes at one point - not from hurt feelings, but from sheer passion and belief. Fists landed on tables, chairs turned inward, voices raised and lowered.

It was invigorating and wonderful and felt, well, a good way to start the new year; analyzing, figuring - not sitting quietly. If we can still sit and discuss all these things, then all these things are still negotiable. Still able to be contended with. I sat this morning listening to the news, about how the majority of congress has changed their minds about Iraq. All I can think of are all the lives lost. Over a decision people now feel was ill-founded.

But then that story is followed by the man who threw himself in front of a speeding train to save the life of a stranger. How now, though he denies what he did was anythign special - people are clamoring to recognize him. To salute that small act of courage and kindness in a city filled with strangers. Or how two men reached out for a baby falling from four stories up, catching him. Not letting him fall. Returning him safely to his family asking for nothing in return.

And I hold fast. That someday all this chaos and sadness will be overtaken by all the smaller things. I hold fast. That as humans we are truly meant for kindness and love. For peace.

As hard as it is on days that news spots on the motorcycle honor guard that arrives at all fallen soldier funerals has tears running down my face.


Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings.
We're sick of being jerked around.
We all fall down.
. . .

Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings.
Ignore the lower fear
Ugh, this means war.
. . .

It's been a bad day... - R.E.M.

It's New Year's Eve

... and hopes are high
Dance one year in

Kiss one goodbye

Another chance
Another start
So many dreams
To tease the heart
We don't need a crowded ballroom

Everything we want is here

Let's wait and see
It may just be
The perfect year

Enough

"On the wall was a dress that I had embroidered. It said “Ich habe genug.” Which is a Bach Cantata. Which I thought meant, “I’ve had it, I can’t take any more, give me a break.” But I was wrong. It means “I have enough.” And that is utterly true. I happen to be alive. End of discussion. But I will go out and buy a hat." — Maira Kalman, The Principles of Uncertainty

With thoughts of resolutions swirling about me and a slight hangover-ey feeling lingering from this weekend - I read this quote this morning and decided it was worth sharing.

Enough. I need no more. It's really and absolutely true. My life at this moment is full - of love, of laughter, of good friends and wonderful family. We have a beautiful home, in a wonderous city. And we're already making plans of seeing more of this amazing planet we live on in the next months.

Enough. More than, actually.

But if you know me, you know I could always use another hat.

Merry, Indeed

I know Christmas is often seen as a time you're supposed to gather with tens and tons of friends and sing 'round the tree. You're supposed to have multitudes of family near, that without all of that, your Christmas cheer is somehow lessened.

As usual, I found myself feeling differently this season. Oh, sure. I missed the friends I haven't seen in a while. I missed our families. But I wouldn't have traded anything for the wonderful, wonderful Christmas Sam and I had (and are still having, really) this year.

It was simple. But it was still joyous and loving and full of cheer. We celebrated Christmas Eve, old school-glamour New York City style. We got dressed to the nines and had an amazingly fancy meal while listening (and later dancing) to a great swing band that sounded straight from the 1940's. I even remembered most of our steps, and I believe we even held our own with the rest. Though, despite my falters, I love nothing more than to dance with my husband. I don't believe I'm ever happier then in his arms, hearing the music, and us laughing at my constant distraction. Somehow, dancing, my feet never get sore. My heart so always too light.

We walked home, late. Christmas lights shown in the apartment windows of ninth avenue. The bodegas were still hawking what was left of their christmas trees. The bars had yet to close down, and a different carol seemed to seep out onto the street every 10 feet or so. I wished a handsome cab driver a merry christmas; and Santa on a late night walk with his dog, wished us one.

It was a perfect night.

Only to be matched by a perfect day. A day of opening presents under the tree, eating fresh cinnamon rolls and watching "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer." We walked about our neighborhood, made chex mix, made dinner, watched more chrismtas movies . . . I couldn't have asked for a more lovely day.

Just me and Sam. Yesterday was just a long reminder of why I love him so. Of how lucky I am he's in my life. There's no one I'd rather spend Christmas with, no one I'd rather do anything with, really. We had a truly amazing time.

I hope you had the same.

xo