so you know that dream you have, where you're about to leave work on a friday night and indulge in a few cocktails and pomme frittes - and right before the end of the day, your professor's secretary emails you wondering where your take home exam is? the take home exam you thought wasn't due for another week? the one you haven't started? the one you could have easily done before if you hadn't spent your day in front of the television making baby blankets? the one that may have actually been due the previous day, and a late submission of which could derail graduation two weeks from now?
and you know that other dream you have where your cool gay landlords' houseguest is locked out with their dog, and asks to cut through your apartment to get to the backyard ... where you can't say no, but your apartment is embarrassingly messy, what with your dining room table covered in open boxes from packages you've gotten over the past two weeks, the laundry basket out of which you've been living all week sitting next to the couch, and the suitcases from a trip two weeks ago still strewn about your bedroom? and you know that despite your apologies for the messiness, he's totally going to tell them later over a pomegranate martini that their tenants are slobs?
and you know that dream where you walk out of the dressing room to show your husband the dress you've tried on, and you don't realize until you're in the crowded aisle that the back of the dress is tucked into the top of your panties? and not only does everyone see you, but a little kid says really loudly, mommy i can see her butt!
totally my weekend. ok not that last one.
but whatever, i was at the argonaut by ten last night. also, i think the landlords may already know we are have moments of slobbery.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
rest in peace, friend. you will be missed.
I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.
I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.
I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--
Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.
Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?
Heaven gives it glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.
-Robert Frost
That are gone before I can tell what they are.
I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.
I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--
Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.
Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?
Heaven gives it glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.
-Robert Frost
Sunday, April 13, 2008
peaks and valleys
i knew yesterday was going to be one of those days well before i actually knew why. when i checked my cell phone at 9am and found three missed calls, i had a feeling. two of those numbers were the mishmash of numbers i've come to associate with my brother's calling card. the other was from my mother. and she left this message.... nearly singing, really.
good mooooooorning! it's your muuuther. i don't know if your bruuuther has called you yet. if not...... you should caaaall me. i luuuuve you!
my brother's not going to iraq.
my brother got himself transfered to an air force base on the kuwaiti coast, where he'll be working as a paralegal. for the duration of his deployment. nowhere near a convoy, nowhere near a roadside bomb. he won't need a flack jacket. he might get carpel tunnel, you know, from working at a computer. he leaves thursday. i think my mom cried for almost an hour after getting this news. i didn't cry nearly that long, but i did suddenly feel like someone had finally loosened the invisible rubber band around my lungs that has been keeping me from taking full breaths ever since this deployment thing became real. and that first email i get from him once he's moved, maybe then i'll take in one very long, deep breath and really exhale.
but it was a call about another younger brother that is the real story, even as happy as i am with the news about mine.
b's phone rang at about 11 last night. he looked at the number, not recognizing it, and then looked at me. for a second i could tell he thought about not answering - but not for the usual reason, that he thought it was a wrong number or something. i think because he was afraid of who was on the other line. but he answered.
then, jonathan...
i turned off the television. and the silence as he listened, and drew in that breath so sharply that told me what i already knew, was so so heavy around us.
i've made a lot of calls for my brother in our lives together, announcing the birth of his first-born when he and his wife were still wide-eyed over the little guy being the most memorable. but the idea of having to make that call, the one telling a friend of 20 years that your younger brother is dead - that is a phone call i never, ever want to be tasked with. it's a fear that has been terribly real to me, with my brother going to iraq. and on the day i found out that won't happen, to know that jonathan is making that call for his younger brother - the enormity of that pain is not lost on me.
and so here i sit, mozart's requiem and the smell of roasting potatoes filling the apartment, my bell's appropriately at my side, and tears in my eyes. i'm thinking of our best friend, again on a hastily-planned flight from ethiopia. i imagine him staring out the window, unable to sleep, trying unsuccessfully to push down his grief with wonderful memories (isn't that what we're all trying to do?) ... i'm thinking of jason's parents, of his wife. i'm thinking of the army of friends that have marched to the front lines of his hospital room, only to stand helpless before him. but i have to tell you, i can't stop thinking about jonathan. my grief, b's grief, pales next to the reality of bittersweet beautiful moments in jonathan's life he'll see without his younger brother. it's a reality i've occasionally, briefly considered in the middle of the night, peering over the edge of that cliff from my bed, b sleeping soundly beside me, hoping i don't wake him with my crying. it's a terrible, terrible reality.
last night, though, that's not what i did as b slept. instead, i pressed the side of my face, cool and a little wet from tears for jason, against his warm back. i could hear his heart, and all i could do was softly, in rhythm with its beats, whisper adamant directions - don't stop. don't stop. please heart. don't stop. don't ever, ever stop.
good mooooooorning! it's your muuuther. i don't know if your bruuuther has called you yet. if not...... you should caaaall me. i luuuuve you!
my brother's not going to iraq.
my brother got himself transfered to an air force base on the kuwaiti coast, where he'll be working as a paralegal. for the duration of his deployment. nowhere near a convoy, nowhere near a roadside bomb. he won't need a flack jacket. he might get carpel tunnel, you know, from working at a computer. he leaves thursday. i think my mom cried for almost an hour after getting this news. i didn't cry nearly that long, but i did suddenly feel like someone had finally loosened the invisible rubber band around my lungs that has been keeping me from taking full breaths ever since this deployment thing became real. and that first email i get from him once he's moved, maybe then i'll take in one very long, deep breath and really exhale.
but it was a call about another younger brother that is the real story, even as happy as i am with the news about mine.
b's phone rang at about 11 last night. he looked at the number, not recognizing it, and then looked at me. for a second i could tell he thought about not answering - but not for the usual reason, that he thought it was a wrong number or something. i think because he was afraid of who was on the other line. but he answered.
then, jonathan...
i turned off the television. and the silence as he listened, and drew in that breath so sharply that told me what i already knew, was so so heavy around us.
i've made a lot of calls for my brother in our lives together, announcing the birth of his first-born when he and his wife were still wide-eyed over the little guy being the most memorable. but the idea of having to make that call, the one telling a friend of 20 years that your younger brother is dead - that is a phone call i never, ever want to be tasked with. it's a fear that has been terribly real to me, with my brother going to iraq. and on the day i found out that won't happen, to know that jonathan is making that call for his younger brother - the enormity of that pain is not lost on me.
and so here i sit, mozart's requiem and the smell of roasting potatoes filling the apartment, my bell's appropriately at my side, and tears in my eyes. i'm thinking of our best friend, again on a hastily-planned flight from ethiopia. i imagine him staring out the window, unable to sleep, trying unsuccessfully to push down his grief with wonderful memories (isn't that what we're all trying to do?) ... i'm thinking of jason's parents, of his wife. i'm thinking of the army of friends that have marched to the front lines of his hospital room, only to stand helpless before him. but i have to tell you, i can't stop thinking about jonathan. my grief, b's grief, pales next to the reality of bittersweet beautiful moments in jonathan's life he'll see without his younger brother. it's a reality i've occasionally, briefly considered in the middle of the night, peering over the edge of that cliff from my bed, b sleeping soundly beside me, hoping i don't wake him with my crying. it's a terrible, terrible reality.
last night, though, that's not what i did as b slept. instead, i pressed the side of my face, cool and a little wet from tears for jason, against his warm back. i could hear his heart, and all i could do was softly, in rhythm with its beats, whisper adamant directions - don't stop. don't stop. please heart. don't stop. don't ever, ever stop.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
my laziness has clearly permeated even my blogging
i kind of have senioritis with my life right now.
because i can't seem to piece together a funny blog on my own these days .... this is a recap from my gchatting in elder law class this afternoon. enjoy.
Joe: amazing that bea arthur came out of retirement to teach this class
me: HAHA! you're going to get me in trouble!
Joe: "you're a pal and a confident!"
"thank you for bein' a friend!"
schuster [a male professor] looks kind of like betty white, no?
sally is rue mclannahan
and tom osbourne as "granny"
me: JOE!!!
Joe: ma!
"my stan had a reverse mortgage"
...
Joe: http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/jkubicek/bea_arthur_rotj.jpg
me: that was mean
also, hilarious
...
Joe: yeah - one was this chick who strained so hard when she was giving birth that the veins around her eyes are now 100% visible - it's like something from x-men
sorry - that was meant for another window
me: now you're just testing me
Joe: ;)
****************************************************
ej: i congragulate you on having one of the weirdest facebook status messages ever.
me: thank you. i appreciate your recognition
it's not actually bea arthur.
...
ej: omigod, the exit to "big beaver road" is #69
http://wonkette.com/375146/thrifty-senators-husband-only-spends-150-on-prostitute
me: HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW THAT
you didn't know that?
ej: no!
me: they're not even making that shit up. that's for real.
ej: hahahahahahha
this is awesome.
me: the hotel where we had our guests stay for our wedding and our wedding reception - both on big beaver. i thought people would think my wedding map i included in the invitation was some kind of sick joke.
"take exit #69 and make a michigan turn to go west on big beaver"
ej: HAHAHAHAHHAHA
me: i toyed with adding language like - you'll go down on big beaver for 2 miles ... but ultimately my good manners go the best of me.
ej: on your wedding invitation! love it!
me: and if THAT doesn't make your tumblr, i will be mightily offended.
******************
if only i could gchat with my blogging self. that would be funny. and it might indicate some sort of mental illness.
because i can't seem to piece together a funny blog on my own these days .... this is a recap from my gchatting in elder law class this afternoon. enjoy.
Joe: amazing that bea arthur came out of retirement to teach this class
me: HAHA! you're going to get me in trouble!
Joe: "you're a pal and a confident!"
"thank you for bein' a friend!"
schuster [a male professor] looks kind of like betty white, no?
sally is rue mclannahan
and tom osbourne as "granny"
me: JOE!!!
Joe: ma!
"my stan had a reverse mortgage"
...
Joe: http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/jkubicek/bea_arthur_rotj.jpg
me: that was mean
also, hilarious
...
Joe: yeah - one was this chick who strained so hard when she was giving birth that the veins around her eyes are now 100% visible - it's like something from x-men
sorry - that was meant for another window
me: now you're just testing me
Joe: ;)
****************************************************
ej: i congragulate you on having one of the weirdest facebook status messages ever.
me: thank you. i appreciate your recognition
it's not actually bea arthur.
...
ej: omigod, the exit to "big beaver road" is #69
http://wonkette.com/375146/thrifty-senators-husband-only-spends-150-on-prostitute
me: HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW THAT
you didn't know that?
ej: no!
me: they're not even making that shit up. that's for real.
ej: hahahahahahha
this is awesome.
me: the hotel where we had our guests stay for our wedding and our wedding reception - both on big beaver. i thought people would think my wedding map i included in the invitation was some kind of sick joke.
"take exit #69 and make a michigan turn to go west on big beaver"
ej: HAHAHAHAHHAHA
me: i toyed with adding language like - you'll go down on big beaver for 2 miles ... but ultimately my good manners go the best of me.
ej: on your wedding invitation! love it!
me: and if THAT doesn't make your tumblr, i will be mightily offended.
******************
if only i could gchat with my blogging self. that would be funny. and it might indicate some sort of mental illness.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 03, 2008
the only way to punish a newspaper for baseless, degrading and irresponsible journalism is to hit them where it hurts. that's why, friends, i am canceling my years-long subscription to the washington post today.
there's no eloquent way to respond to a piece of garbage that reads more like a 15-year-old boy's rant than an opinion piece to be run in any newspaper, let alone the washington post. there's no way to argue against bold-faced lies about clinton's campaign. there's no way to refute the scientific facts that allegedly support the premise that women are an inferior breed when those facts aren't presented. oh, except that part about how women are in more, though significantly less serious, car accidents. and i don't even think she represented that study accurately.
even if i could refute it, who cares? does the post really care if a bunch of people are yammering online about how irresponsible they are? it does get people talking, right? and reading the newspaper?
i think everyone who was as shocked by charlotte allen's dribble as i was should cancel their subscriptions. hold this newspaper to a higher standard. frankly, they've not even risen to a standard i would have expected in rural michigan 20 years ago. let alone here, now, from this paper.
doesn't this speak to how our society has still not moved past gender stereotypes that we've long since decided were inappropriate based on religion or race? doesn't this deserve the same outrage we'd give a similar article making these gross generalizations based on religion or race? doesn't this deserve an end to whatever patronage you provide to the washington post?
there's no eloquent way to respond to a piece of garbage that reads more like a 15-year-old boy's rant than an opinion piece to be run in any newspaper, let alone the washington post. there's no way to argue against bold-faced lies about clinton's campaign. there's no way to refute the scientific facts that allegedly support the premise that women are an inferior breed when those facts aren't presented. oh, except that part about how women are in more, though significantly less serious, car accidents. and i don't even think she represented that study accurately.
even if i could refute it, who cares? does the post really care if a bunch of people are yammering online about how irresponsible they are? it does get people talking, right? and reading the newspaper?
i think everyone who was as shocked by charlotte allen's dribble as i was should cancel their subscriptions. hold this newspaper to a higher standard. frankly, they've not even risen to a standard i would have expected in rural michigan 20 years ago. let alone here, now, from this paper.
doesn't this speak to how our society has still not moved past gender stereotypes that we've long since decided were inappropriate based on religion or race? doesn't this deserve the same outrage we'd give a similar article making these gross generalizations based on religion or race? doesn't this deserve an end to whatever patronage you provide to the washington post?
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
so i'm walking home from the bus stop last night, down my quiet street in adams morgan, when across the street i see this guy with a ski mask run up behind this woman and try to take her purse and her ipod. she fought back a little, and before i really thought about what i was doing, i ran across the street and just started beating the shit out of this guy with my big as umbrella. it's one of those with the big curved handle, and i was swinging it from the other end and just nailing him with that thing. the women stepped back, grabbed her purse and her ipod from the ground and - obviously a neighborhood resident - starts running towards that 7-11 on the corner of 19th and columbia where one can always find a cabbie and a cop or two and yelling for the police. so now i'm here with this guy, just beating on him with my umbrella. at that point, he reached for his belt, and i thought i was in trouble. thankfully, under the street light, i could see that the gun he pulled out was a toy, something he had bought at target for a kid. and he knew i knew, because i started laughing and asking him if he was going to shoot me with a dart or some shit. then he decides to try to pistol whip me with this thing, this little plastic gun. i'm sure it was quite a sight, me with my big polka dotted umbrella hitting him - he trying to pistol whip me with a toy gun. he grabbed my umbrella and was pulling me closer with it so he could hit me, when the cops came running down the street and yelled Police! we both turned around, and this asshole steps on my foot.
GODDAMN IT! THAT'S MY FOOT! JESUS!
Oh, wow, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean ...
so the police grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground.
you're brave for a little thing, the cop said as he finished putting the cuffs on the perp, looking me up and down.
oh no, i just did what anyone would have done...
at this point, a few cop cars pulled up, and the new cops were asking who stopped this guy ... and i heard some of them talking about whether this was the guy that had been mugging people all over the neighborhood for the past couple of weeks. i was feeling pretty good, knowing that i had helped catch some serial mugger. i gave my statement, got a few pats on the back, and limped down the street to my apartment, realizing my foot was killing me.
that, or i stubbed my toe on the coffee table.
either way, i have a broken toe. and it hurts like a mother.
GODDAMN IT! THAT'S MY FOOT! JESUS!
Oh, wow, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean ...
so the police grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground.
you're brave for a little thing, the cop said as he finished putting the cuffs on the perp, looking me up and down.
oh no, i just did what anyone would have done...
at this point, a few cop cars pulled up, and the new cops were asking who stopped this guy ... and i heard some of them talking about whether this was the guy that had been mugging people all over the neighborhood for the past couple of weeks. i was feeling pretty good, knowing that i had helped catch some serial mugger. i gave my statement, got a few pats on the back, and limped down the street to my apartment, realizing my foot was killing me.
that, or i stubbed my toe on the coffee table.
either way, i have a broken toe. and it hurts like a mother.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
i am many things. i am a wife, a sister, a daughter. i am an auntie. i am a student, i am almost a lawyer. i am (i hope) a good friend. i am a pretty decent cook. i am a good parallel parker. i am a lapsed violist, and a lapsed christian. i am wondering if i drink a little too much wine for my own good. (i am convinced i do not, for now.)
i am currently considering drinking right from the bottle.
i am seriously thinking about staying in a hotel tonight.
i am not sure why i called my parents about this intruder, whose droppings i just found in my kitchen. i am not surprised that they laughed hysterically at my near-hyperventilating. i am surprised i did not scream when i realized what those droppings were. i am not sure i did not scream, come to think about it.
i am positive no fewer than 10 people walked past me laughing, while i stood on the corner of 19th and columbia as my parents tried to convince me i don't need to get traps if the exterminator is coming tomorrow.
i am now the proud owner of four No View, No Touch (tm) mouse traps.
i am not sure whether i want to find a mouse in said traps in the morning or not.
i am totally sleeping with socks on.
i am now stomping and singing when i take more than two steps in the apartment.
i am considering naming this thing yacobina poppertof to make myself feel better.
i am not feeling better.
i am not going to be happy until that fucker is dead.
i am currently considering drinking right from the bottle.
i am seriously thinking about staying in a hotel tonight.
i am not sure why i called my parents about this intruder, whose droppings i just found in my kitchen. i am not surprised that they laughed hysterically at my near-hyperventilating. i am surprised i did not scream when i realized what those droppings were. i am not sure i did not scream, come to think about it.
i am positive no fewer than 10 people walked past me laughing, while i stood on the corner of 19th and columbia as my parents tried to convince me i don't need to get traps if the exterminator is coming tomorrow.
i am now the proud owner of four No View, No Touch (tm) mouse traps.
i am not sure whether i want to find a mouse in said traps in the morning or not.
i am totally sleeping with socks on.
i am now stomping and singing when i take more than two steps in the apartment.
i am considering naming this thing yacobina poppertof to make myself feel better.
i am not feeling better.
i am not going to be happy until that fucker is dead.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
reading dutch's triptych on the early morning after his son was born, (also, yay little gram!) i was thinking about my own quiet early mornings lately. in the past couple of months, we've had two 5am saturday cab rides to national. both times, though i wasn't thrilled at having to get in a cab at that ungodly hour - on a saturday, no less - and was also pretty annoyed that the cab company decided not to honor their promise to send a cabbie and left us to our own devices ... both times, i found the trip strangely soothing. there's something about seeing this city in darkness - and quiet, not just after dark, with the college hangers-on stumbling down my street after a long night of drinking. there's something so calming about the victorian facades, no steady wash of headlights running over the bricks - about the monuments lit, and knowing even from a distance that they aren't being swarmed by an unrelenting army of tourists. both of those flights i was going to national to catch at that ridiculous hour were to michigan, not for playful romps with nephews or wine festivals or for vacation. not for those things i love michigan for. the first was for christmas, where i knew i'd hug my brother for the last time until god knows when. the second, to spend the weekend in a cancer wing, reminiscing about college and ignoring the staples in jason's head.
but for the 20 minutes we spent basically alone on the roads of dc, silently gliding past the kennedy center, admiring the inky waters of the potomac, i felt calm and strong. this city has seen tragedy and joy that eclipse my spectrum of either emotion. on those mornings, i could almost feel the strength of this place as we passed the golden statues guarding the memorial bridge. i'm not sure what this year will bring, but i'm sure that a 5am cab ride 9 months from now will offer the same calm. i'm sure i'll stare out the window, allowing my forehead to rest on the cool, dank window, too tired to be concerned with how grimy it is, smiling slightly at the beauty of lincoln's memorial and the dignity of the kennedy center. i'm sure i'll find it comforting, and i'll know everything is going to be alright.
but for the 20 minutes we spent basically alone on the roads of dc, silently gliding past the kennedy center, admiring the inky waters of the potomac, i felt calm and strong. this city has seen tragedy and joy that eclipse my spectrum of either emotion. on those mornings, i could almost feel the strength of this place as we passed the golden statues guarding the memorial bridge. i'm not sure what this year will bring, but i'm sure that a 5am cab ride 9 months from now will offer the same calm. i'm sure i'll stare out the window, allowing my forehead to rest on the cool, dank window, too tired to be concerned with how grimy it is, smiling slightly at the beauty of lincoln's memorial and the dignity of the kennedy center. i'm sure i'll find it comforting, and i'll know everything is going to be alright.
i'm trying
i am a little hesitant to blog about the delightfully normal and bad-news-free weekend we've just enjoyed, fearful that the fates will think i'm taunting them and put me in my place. there was a happy hour full of friends, a saturday with starbucks and shopping, an attempt at grilling that may or may not have nearly caught our house on fire, a trip to the woolly mammoth to see no child, brunch, and a monday holiday that was - for a few hours at least - deliciously warm... breakfast was eaten at a sidewalk cafe, and midday beers were enjoyed at a restaurant where the windows had been thrown open and the fresh warm air tickled the freshly painted toes in my flip flops. until the cold front and the pouring rain, of course. but even walking the few blocks home in the rain, me in my flip flops and b in short sleeves, was done with laughter and smiles. it was a good weekend.
it's been a rough few weeks. and to say i've been in a funk puts all previously claimed funks to shame. but i'm trying to pull myself out. i'm trying to remember that things that affect me often don't involve me. i'm trying to remember that there are plenty of problems i cannot fix. i'm trying to remember that there are plenty of problems i should not fix even if i can. and i'm trying to remember that i graduate in less than three months now, have only 12 weeks more to deal with one of the most insufferable people i know and put an end to my long and storied secretarial career. i'm trying to watch more movies, walk with an extra bounce in my step, and notice the buds as they begin to appear on the trees. i'm trying to distract myself with homework, though i know that will surely be short-lived. i'm trying to embrace the fact that 2008 is shaping up to be a year of transition, and that transition isn't always easy.
maybe i should have given up worrying for lent.
it's been a rough few weeks. and to say i've been in a funk puts all previously claimed funks to shame. but i'm trying to pull myself out. i'm trying to remember that things that affect me often don't involve me. i'm trying to remember that there are plenty of problems i cannot fix. i'm trying to remember that there are plenty of problems i should not fix even if i can. and i'm trying to remember that i graduate in less than three months now, have only 12 weeks more to deal with one of the most insufferable people i know and put an end to my long and storied secretarial career. i'm trying to watch more movies, walk with an extra bounce in my step, and notice the buds as they begin to appear on the trees. i'm trying to distract myself with homework, though i know that will surely be short-lived. i'm trying to embrace the fact that 2008 is shaping up to be a year of transition, and that transition isn't always easy.
maybe i should have given up worrying for lent.
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