9.27.2006

places that

Make me rather uncomfortable:
Michael's Craft Store
Library
Cafeteria
Kinko's
Hospital
Church Book Store
Candle Store
The Mall
overly clean homes
shady parts of Concord, CA
Japanese Restaurants
Circus
The Ocean
Baby Gap
American Apparel
J.Crew
Buffets
Boat
Airplane
Museum

I like to visit:
Home Depot
Skate Shop
Nursery (the kind for plants, not kids)
Movie Theater
Candy Aisle
Staple's
Office Building
The Temple
Any Party Store
Bed, Bath and Beyond
Ikea
Santa Cruz
Most Restaurants; Besides Japanese
Grocery Stores
Restoration Hardware
H&M
Banana Republic
Target
Any Park
Manhattan
Mountains
San Francisco
the shower
record store
magazine rack
rock venues

pull

Dear Mike,

Remember when I got home from blowing my self-imposed grocery budget last week? When I showed you the sliced gouda and sliced salami I bought just for you. So you could have a fancy little snack. A gluten-free specialty? You smiled and thanked me for being so thoughtful. We might have even hugged and smooched.

Well. It tastes really good, this stuff. I sort of just ate the last slice of each on a really good sandwich. I know you only had a couple of slices total, but hear me out! You see, I figured with us going on a trip and all there might not be time for you to enjoy it. And I bet it's better fresh, so I can get you some new slices when we get back and you will like that better. So really I am just trying not to waste food [said shyly--> foot sweeping the ground].

Sorry I ate the one thoughtful thing I did for you this week. Who knew gouda would have the same pull on my will power as chocolate?

9.26.2006

If I had Tivo

Jackass
Nanny 911
Wife Swap
Trading Spouses
Super Nanny
Unwrapped (food channel show on candy)
This Old House
Sweet 16
Real World
Grey's Anatomy
Gilmore Girls
Golden Girls
Three's Company
Misc. movies on Lifetime (for the nights Mike travels)
The Apprentice
Oprah
America's Next Top Model
BYU Channel
just kidding
The Office

Dr. 90210
The Fresh Prince of Bel Air
Curious George (for Zane)

Sex and the City
Colbert Report (for Mike)
alright- I secretly think it can be funny. it would be for me.
Malcom in the Middle
*
Shows I want to purchase
Seinfeld
The Young Ones
I Love Lucy
The Office (UK)
Bosom Buddies

9.23.2006

9.21.2006

brilliant

I love you, Del Monte. He shoveled in corn for the first time in his 2 year old life faster than he does his favorite fries. Faster than I ate my Goobers during the Grey's premier tonight. Very, very impressive idea. It completely worked.

I love it when marketing creates positive, healthy interest.

As for this new flavor of Doritos, Blazin' Buffalo Ranch, not so healthy. Yet, an official addition to the junk food Hall of Approval.

9.20.2006

tiny. love. stories.

Last night flipping channels I ran across a little segment (movie?) of Ten Tiny Love Stories. I couldn't change the channel. It was like my college perfomance art class- just one woman (actress) at a time speaking to the camera for about 15 minutes in the comfort of 'her' home. Each took me on a brief and poignant journey of heart break or confession that allowed me to feel little bursts of energy, good and bad. Voice accents and body language added incredible depth to the monologues. Each would end abruptly and I wanted to know more. Until the next story began the trance all over again.

I loved the ironic details out of nowhere. "And then there were the artichoke hearts". So I waited patiently to hear what would evolve around that bizarre comment. It made me want to create my own little short stories about my past tiny love stories.

They never get told, really, do they? Our past love stories- the funny, the sad, the happy, the pleasant. They just get tucked away into a memory rolodex until a song or image triggers them to surface only to be pushed away.

What a great anonymous blog that would be- tiny love stories people could send away. To get them out of the rolodex for us to read and enjoy. To hear about your artichokes would be so fun.

9.19.2006

gush


The essence of being part of a family is something I am gushing with pleasure in today. Of having the role that is being a wife and mother. The ability to fully participate in all related responsibilities with a higher degree of enjoyment. With health in my navel and marrow in my bones. I am beginning to realize what the prior sentence actually feels like.

I would be remiss if I didn't tell you I have a broken heart for the other people. Those other people who sat (or will sit) in the same chair I sat in. The ones that keep going in the process. For those that had (or will have) the path that is a fear and terror I could never begin to imagine. I cried hard for those people last night and hope that if I cross paths with any of them I can offer assistance in one way or another.

It's like we are all in the same room standing in line, given numbers. Some numbers are called into one plan and others into another. I don't know why I get the number that ends the process and others don't. I just wish I could stand next to each of them and hold their hands.

I really just wish no one would get that number at all.

9.18.2006

breathing joy

I'm fine. No cancer. Completely FINE!!!!!!!

Fine has to be the most spectacular word in the world today.

9.16.2006

when september ends

I sat in the chair alone with my gown on next to this crazy machine. Looking out the window through a crack in the closed blinds, I wondered about the other women who have sat in this chair. What did their journey lead to? I knew as I sat there- odds were that I would leave with no further steps in the process of testing for breast cancer. That I would get to go home and hug my baby, yet feel a little more compassion for the pink ribbons. Maybe even participate in a walk or race for the fight against cancer. I would at least think about it more than I did before this mammogram visit.

The technician comes back and needs a few more images scanned. I swallow the lump in my throat and clear away my grateful feelings and replace them with a little shred of concern. Just a tiny shred.

Then the Doctor wants to see me in another room for another exam. This was not what I was told would happen. This is not what was planned. Concern level is elevated to orange.

He begins speaking words I don’t comprehend, yet in a soft and non-concerning tone. The process isn’t done. I am not going home with a clear head. He tells me not to lose sleep over it, that it’s just some little calcifications on a regular cyst that are worth checking out at my youthful age. It is rare they are cancerous, but he has seen it happen before.

Two weeks go by before I have more details and a thorough conversation with another doctor. Who’s on first?! What’s on second?! I will spare writing the awful and agonizing feelings, tears shed (and held back) while thinking of potential plans to arrange for my son’s life in the event there is a day I will not be in it while he is still young.

I have two days to mentally prepare for a procedure I know very little about. Stereotactic Core Biopsy. I read horror stories online of people traumatized by this and emotionally scarred for days (from benign and cancer survivors alike).

*

Hooray for my visiting teacher! I have someone to watch Zane.
Not hooray for the new job, Mike is away on business.
Hooray for my drums! I get to play with the bassist from the band I auditioned for the night before the procedure. This is a much needed outlet.
Hooray for my Home Teacher/ Friend! I get a priesthood blessing.
Hooray for Aunt Sharon who spoke with me about her experience with the same process and offered comforting words I needed to hear.

*

The morning of the procedure I wanted to puke, but somehow felt overwhelmingly grateful for technology allowing a less invasive method (i.e. it’s not surgery!).
I had a sense of calm that whatever the plan is for my life, I don’t have a lot of control related to this type of health check. The only control I have is to be calm and trick my mind into getting through this procedure and taking care of my son. I force myself to box up all my scary thoughts and set them aside. Not to be opened unless Monday’s call has unwanted news.

As for the procedure, it did not hurt nearly as much as I expected. The initial ‘bee’ sting I read about was accurate, only it was like the bee took a nose-dive into the inside of my body and kept going. That was the only time I hurt enough to verbally express it with AHHHHH and I squeezed the hell out of the ball in my hand. That was the numbing agent.

When they were finished, I wanted to jump up on the table, bloody and topless, and blow into a trumpet:


DO DODODOOOOOOOOOOO! IT DIDN’T HURT THAT MUCH!!!

The aftermath is worse than the procedure. The hole where the incision was made is small, yet larger than I expected. It’s like I got shot with a bee-bee gun at close range, only it went completely through. The hour before I can take another dose of Tylenol isn’t so fun.

So I wait to hear about what’s next in my plan, this plan that exists for me. I have to trust that the One who created it knows what He’s doing. That could be a pretty tall test for me.


Or a completely awesome celebration of life.

9.14.2006

9.13.2006

punk rock girl

So there is this girl at the gym I want to be friends with. I don't remember how to make friends anymore; how to initiate anyway. As a mother you sort of congregate towards other mothers with children of matching age. It's relatively natural and simple.

But what if she isn't a mother? And what if she isn't married? What if she thinks I am hitting on her?

I can't say the following for sure "live around here?", "come here often?", "nice day out today, isn't it?"

I love the elegant tattoos on her arms, I am pretty sure that we could be best friends. I am also pretty sure she would be a great lead singer for the band I will form.

I also think she would skateboard with me and probably has some Vans. Her name could be one of these: Rachel, Amy, Gretchen, Kim, or Mary.

I imagine she doesn't smoke/ do drugs and is quite serious about staying so thin. I think she went to the spinning class when I was stepping onto the treadmill.

We probably can't be best friends if she is in the spinning class. I am just not coordinated or hardcore enough to spin.

So that leaves me with the perfume lady. And her sidekick Estee Lauder.*

------

* I have actually made some awesome friends here that I can rely on in a crunch, laugh & have fun with. I am so grateful for them. They are a lot better at making friends than I am.

9.12.2006

psychocandy

In my most recent job before having my baby, I was mostly sad to leave because I had the ideal boss. He was the only true mentor I ever had in the HR industry. He was cool, intelligent, approachable, and genuine. That combination in a boss just doesn't really exist. AND he actually listened to The Jesus and Mary Chain. We worked well together and I am sure he is now 12 promotions up.

He gave Christmas gifts to all of us 'staff' and go ahead.....ask me what I got. Wilco CDs. That's right. From my boss.

He even killed a spider for me once that was in my office! I emailed his boss to make sure it would be included in the Teamwork part of his Annual Review.

It was hard to tell him the news I was leaving because I didn't want to disappoint a cool boss I knew I would never have again. I knew he was pulling for me to go places and gave me so many opportunities to grow and learn without judgement.

How do you tell someone 'thanks' and 'goodbye' when they have contributed so much support to the success of your career!? I thought for months about proper gift ideas from stores I knew he shopped at.

A month or so before I left, I was in the Hershey's Store in Times Square. That's when I saw it, the perfect gift! A giant Reese's mug overflowing with mini Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. The only candy he would ever accept from the candy dishes on my desk. It wasn't quite the send-off I was hoping for, but it would do nicely. I would give it to him on my last day.

This huge mug of chocolate stared at me for days from my bedroom dresser waiting to be eaten. BEGGING to be eaten. On day five I gave in and ate my boss's gift. He never got my thank you gift. I ate it all.

***

This is the part where my mom calls to remind me of all the candy I would eat instead of selling for school fundraisers.

9.10.2006

Curse of the Rated R Rabbit

I grew up watching rated R movies. I laughed when heads rolled off of bodies on Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I scoffed at the awful special effects of each Jason and Freddie movie. The blood, language, and violence did not bother me. But something changed as I became an adult.

I tend to get wrapped up in movies like I am in the life of the movie. The characters, if the movie is done well, become my friends and family instantly. I assume there will be the American happy ending because so far, I am pretty happy in life. No tragic deaths of loved ones, no mafia connections (besides an old neighbor), no kidnappings, no addiction to drugs or alcohol. We go to sleep snug in our beds all tucked in and doors safely locked. Sometimes we get freaky, but I won't write about that here. And it's actually more often instead of sometimes, but I will leave it at that.

So back to my point. The Netflix deal has us watching roughly 2 movies every week once Zane goes to sleep. I am lazy about managing the list and have let Mike steer this ship. Many of the movies are award winning and some are indie. A few romance movies slip in, as my husband would like the often to be more of an always. We have exhausted all of the PG-13 movies from the list and we have begun again with the Rs.

Perhaps I am no longer as naive to think murder and death are fake. Psycho people really exist and I am sure I sat next to several of them on the subways of NY, drive next to them on the roads of CA, and went to school with many in AZ, not to mention the terrorists that lived short blocks away from where I worked in Jersey City, NJ.

Jason movies are a little far-fetched, but the notion of not being safe is triggered in my mind when I hear gun shots, see blood, and watch homes collapse in sadness on the screen. Especially as a parent, I am scarred if a beloved character in a movie has a child of any age and is 'killed off'. It hangs in my heart for days and it's all I can think about. I mourn with the characters long after the movie is over. It's rather pathetic.

The mafia movies, I have trouble sleeping at night. I keep thinking a hit man is going to do a drive-by with assault rifles. That Zane will be gone in the morning and a bloody horse's head is going to be there instead. It twists me inside and I have to check on him every hour of the night. And will Mike make it home from work tomorrow? Or will he be covered in wet cement in a dark basement?

I guess all I am saying is my heart beats too fast, more than my body can handle, with many rated R movies. I fear enough for the safety of my son without filling my head with insane and far-fetched possibilities of insecurity and death, pain and suffering. Normal people can probably tune these things out and end it with the movie. Not me.

That said, I either need some recommendations for non-fear-inducing (happy) rated R movies or I have to stop watching them altogether. And then what will I do about my Amelie and Goodwill Hunting?

9.07.2006

my martin fit






Very few things make me miss the office these days. These are some of them.
1-3 BR, Nord, J.Crew

alone

one lonesome red leaf greeted us this morning. i can't wait for his yellow and orange friends to come out and play this fall.

9.06.2006

...Flies a Kite


--> DCFC is touring everywhere but San Francisco. It's because I made fun of the way the lead singer dances, I know it. Sorry, SF. I owe you all an apology for missing out this year.

--> My husband and I have hugely separate interests. Last night there was a truce. OKGO was on The Colbert Report. People all over the world were holding hands and smiling at the colliding forces.

--> Not enjoying the voice selected for The Man in the Yellow Hat. He is too mysterious and cool of a guy to have such a happy, Howdy Doody tone.

--> We turn pink in the sun. That's what we do. No amount of green popsicle can stop it.

guess who learned html. finally. 15 years late.

9.05.2006

e

i know, i know.
pretty much the coolest thing you have ever seen.
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