Category: Uncategorized

Sunday is a golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Only 11 days to go – after today – til the end of NaBloPoMo.  I won’t lie, this is hard work.  But it’s been nice getting back into the habit of writing again.

Today was a good day.  My mom was here overnight with her Little Sister.  They spent the day in D.C. yesterday and met us for dinner last night.  This morning we all went to breakfast, and then they headed back into the District to go to the aquarium.  I went to the pool and swam laps and then laid out for a while. On the way to the pool, I saw a little boy, no more than four, running crazily down the sidewalk laughing, and he was wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt.  Made me smile.

After, I came home and watched the end of the British Open with David – what a heartbreaker for Tom Watson.  Then the Tigers game was on, so we watched that, though I fell asleep for a bit towards the end.  The Tigers fell to the Evil Empire while I napped.  Boo.  By the time I woke up, it was nearly time for the Braves game, but I had to go grocery shopping, so David paused the game for me (ahh, the magic of TiVo).  Worked out well for him, since he was in the middle of a golf game on Wii.

I went to the store and stocked up on lots of goodies.  I’m really trying to get myself back under control food-wise, so I bought plenty of fruits and veggies and stuff to make and freeze for lunches during the week.  When I got home, I started cooking three meals at once – two for lunches, and our dinner for tonight.  It was a little crazy there for a while, but I managed to get everything done, and the last dish is in the oven as we speak.  It makes me feel good to know that I’ve made it possible for me to be successful this week by planning ahead and taking the time to get things prepared.  I’ve been wildly off program as far as Weight Watchers in concerned over the last year (which may be the subject of its own post here soon), so I’m trying to slowly get myself back into the right mindset.

We had dinner – pork chops a la Emeril, one of our favorites – and a salad with fresh cucumber from our balcony garden.  Yum.  Now we’re relaxing, finishing up Season 3 of the Sopranos (we broke down and bought the complete season a few weeks ago at CostCo – we had a coupon for $50 off!).  All in all, a nice end to a nice, relaxing weekend.

I don’t know what you could say about a day in which you have seen four beautiful sunsets.
— John Glenn

Not much time today, so I thought I’d share this Richmond sunset with you, as David and I head off to see Second City tonight.  My mom called this morning to tell us she’d be in town today with her Little Sister (from the Big Brothers Big Sisters program – and she’s been a part of my family for longer than I’ve been hearing impaired), so we’re going to meet up with them for dinner after the show.  Have a great Saturday night!

Hey little sister, what have you done?
Hey little sister, who’s the only one?
Hey little sister, who’s your superman?
Hey little sister, who’s the one you want?
Hey little sister, shotgun!
— Billy Idol, White Wedding

So it’s Friday night at 10, and David is, unfortunately, still at work.  Fortunately for me, though, this allows me to indulge in one of my favorite guilty pleasure shows – Say Yes to the Dress on TLC.

The premise behind this show is that women come to Kleinfeld – a widely known high-end bridal salon in Manhattan – to search for the perfect wedding dress.  Each of them is paired with a “consultant,” which is really just a fancy word for salesperson, and shown multiple dresses in the hopes that one will catch the bride-to-be’s eye (and wallet).

This show is like the ultimate in wedding porn.  Kleinfeld carries thousands of dresses in all styles and price ranges.  That is, assuming your price range starts around $1500.  The brides generally come in with a budget, be it $1500, $3000, or $10,000.  Sometimes, like tonight’s lesbian couple searching for “matching pantsuits,” the budget is unlimited.  This is actually the part of the show that irks me the most: no matter what the stated budget is, the consultants – without fail, always bring in dresses that are out of the bride’s price range.  The goal, of course, is to get the bride to fall in love with one of those dresses, and they count on the absolute madness that surrounds so many women planning weddings – the idea that the day has to be perfect and that every detail matters immensely – to convince her that she must have THIS dress or the wedding will be a disaster.  It’s kind of unsavory, frankly.  And watching the struggle some of these brides and their families go through – one bride’s obviously working class mother agreed to take a second job to afford the out-of-her-price-range dress her daughter wanted –  is a little more reality than this show needs, I think.  It should be pure fantasy.

To be honest, however, part of the appeal in watching this, for me, is to marvel at that very same madness that I just criticized. It’s amazing to me that women will pay thousands of dollars for a wedding dress. I just cannot fathom that.  Even those brides whose wedding budgets would have paid for my law school education with change leftover – I just don’t get it.  It’s one day, you wear the dress for 6 hours, and you never wear it again.  And you can’t do anything else with it, either, except put it in a box and hope you have a daughter who might want to wear it.  I’d rather spend the money to rent a Dippin’ Dots cart.

And I don’t travel in circles where these kinds of things matter, either.  My mother would die if I told her I wanted to spend $2000 on a wedding dress.  I happen to know that Aimee got everything – wedding dress, veil, undergarments, shoes, etc – for under about $700.  And her dress was absolutely perfect for her.  See?

(That’s hands-down my favorite picture of her, ever.)

And if I were as crafty as Lydia, I’d make my own wedding dress, too.  I absolutely love the pattern she chose.  Oooh, maybe I’ll pay Lydia to make my wedding dress!

Look: there’s no doubt the dresses on this show are, for the most part, beautiful.  And if these women are comfortable spending that kind of money for a dress, and it makes them happy, then more power to them.  I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show.

Acting is half shame, half glory.  Shame at exhibiting yourself, glory when you can forget yourself.
— John Gielgud

1.  my boss’s “in” with Second City that’s netted me tickets for a Saturday evening performance of Barack Stars

2. the  way foreign boys speak English

3. the way pants feel against newly-shaven legs

What have you got?

She didn’t care that she wasn’t off with some man from Peoria who wore suits and sold hairbrushes door-to-door.  She had the bug that afflicts every part of you, especially your reason.  It makes you dream of babies crying out for you in the night.
— from The Book of Ruth, by Jane Hamilton

Lately, I’ve had babies on the brain.  Like, dreaming about them practically every night, noticing pregnant women everywhere I go, reading blogs by women who are pregnant or who write about their children.  It’s bizarre.

Being a mother is the one thing I’ve always known, for sure, I wanted to be.  I watched my friends and my brother get married and have children, and I wondered when it might happen for me, but I never really felt the “clock ticking,” as it were, until recently.  I guess that’s what this is.

I long to be pregnant.  And longing is precisely the right word to describe the feeling, I think.  It’s nearly a physical yearning, and it floors me every time it hits.  I touch my stomach and imagine what I’d look like 8 months pregnant, how it would feel to have a  tiny human being growing inside there, how completely my life would change the second I heard that first cry.

But I worry, too.  I worry about what kind of mother I’ll be, whether I’ll mellow out between now and the time my kid is a juice-spilling, sticky tornado of energy, whether I’ll be able to let go of my control-freak tendencies and raise healthy, well-adjusted kids, whether they’ll be out-of-control teens, and if they’ll hate me.

I long to be pregnant, but the idea of actually caring for a tiny person who needs all of me — even with the man I love beside me — seems unbearable, undoable, impossible.  And that makes me wonder if I’ll ever really be ready, and the idea that I might never be scares me.

Of course, as usual, I’m WAY ahead of myself, so I’ll just run and double check that I took my birth control pill this morning and move on!