Category: Uncategorized

Life is not the wick or the candle; it is the burning.
— Unknown

Part 1

26. snow in Salamanca

27. being in my parents wedding when I was 6

28. popping grapes at midnight on New Year’s Eve on the roof of our house in Barcelona

29. watching The West Wing with the Wednesday night crew at Andre’s

30. rolling down the hill with D

31. my first (and only, so far) motorcycle ride

32. leaving home in the morning, saying goodbye to a fluffy Shad (our Old English sheepdog) and coming home from school to find her with a buzz cut for the summer, everywhere except over her eyes

33. pretending to be asleep in the car so my dad would carry me inside to bed

34. outdoor opera in Santa Fe

35. driving cross country, from VA to El Paso, with my family, listening to books on tape

36. standing on the famous steps at Cannes (50 or so pounds ago, but man, do I love that picture)

37. JB bugging out so bad seeing Max Weinberg when we went to see Conan O’Brien that she couldn’t muster anything but silent tears for Conan, her one true love

38. Yankee Stadium last April with Aimee and Tim, booing A-Rod in the snow

39. meeting baby Ben for the first time

40. Nate and Molly’s wedding, and the reception after

41. the first time I heard the Princess call me Mel-mel

42. playing with the Conductor – “I am the giantest baby ever!” (because he was)

43. riding on the top of a double-decker bus

44. the day my implant got turned on

45. playing Rose in Bye Bye Birdie in high school

46. mom spending 5 days on a cot in my hospital room in Philadelphia when I had to get my appendix out on vacation

47. “Lance and Joey: We’re legal and we love you!” (the big sign Aimee and I made for the last *NSYNC concert we went to. I’m not embarrassed either – that sign got us on TV and got waves from the boys on stage to us in the fourth row!)

48. curling up in a big chair with a cat in my lap, a good book, and a storm raging outside

49. accidentally ending up with a box of my dad’s stuff after a move and finding it full of stuff Nate and I made for him when we were kids

50. slipping into clean, fresh sheets with nothing on

Part 3

Part 4

History is merely a list of surprises. It can only prepare us to be surprised yet again.
— Kurt Vonnegut

Man, I am just an idea-stealer here lately, but I came across this post at MightyGirl, by way of Les Cadeaux (which I reached for the first time yesterday by way of The Rage Diaries), and knew I had to do it.

The idea is, if your life were to flash before your eyes, what 100 moments would you want to see? In no particular order, here are my memories, 1-25.

1. the day the Princess was born, Nate was holding her and she was sleeping, and when I whispered her name, she opened her eyes.

2. my 24th birthday cake, which read, “Happy Birthday, You Old Bitch!”

3. the utter relief I felt the day after I lost my hearing when I opened the door to my apartment and saw my dad standing there – he dropped his bag and just wrapped me in his arms, and I knew I could just let go

4. kissing a boy “right in the middle of the Plaza” in Salamanca

5. picking berries at Brown’s Berry Patch in the summers at the golf course

6. the 5-day canoe trip down the James River when I was 17 – but I was a counselor, and the kids were young teens, so I lied and told them I was 19

7. sitting on the hood of Aimee’s car in the parking lot of the high school on a spring night, just talking

8. singing These Are Days as a duet with my best friend in college with our a cappella group backing us up

9. dipping my toes in the Mediterranean Sea (that’s what the picture at left is)

10. pulling up the results page for the bar exam, seeing that the names had been posted, taking a moment to take a deep breath, then scrolling down and seeing my name and tears escaping my eyes

11. climbing to the top of the Arc de Triomphe (all 284 steps) in Paris with my grandmother and seeing the traffic whizzing around the traffic circle below

12. watching the sun set from the top of the Eiffel Tower

13. watching the sun rise over the Mediterranean Sea in Nice

14. meeting Nate and the family at the mall one Sunday when the Conductor spotted me from 25 yards, and he took off running towards me as fast as his tiny legs could carry him and ran into my arms with a giant smile on his face

15. pretending we were a motorcycle gang as we sped on our bikes down the alley behind our house

16. when Luigi ran away and was gone for three months and then when I came home from a Girl Scout camping trip and opened the door, he jumped on me

17. sparklers at dusk in the summertime

18. meeting Aya on the back steps of the dorm – where we’d both gone for a smoke – the first week at college, and knowing I’d found a lifelong friend

19. dandelion jelly with Donna

20. “before the beach”

21. giving the toast at Aimee’s wedding

22. drinking champagne from the bottle

23. catching fireflies

24. Grandma and Grandpa’s 50th Anniversary party

25. the look on my dad’s face as he walked in the door of his 50th birthday surprise party

26-50 up next. Steal this idea, please – or just share a couple in the comments if you’d rather! I teared up reading the posts I stole this from, and I don’t even know those people, so I’d love to read yours!

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Some mothers are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together.
— Pearl S. Buck

I know I’m not the only one doing this today, but here are some words of wisdom and other things I’ve learned, courtesy of my mother:

1. When you’re feeling bad, a walk outside will nearly always make you feel better.

2. Sit up straight.

3. Learn a foreign language and use it whenever you can (even if it hopelessly embarrasses your children).

4. Buy that tiny bowl at a yard sale or Goodwill – it’s the perfect size for salsa for one or grated Parmesan for the table.

5. You don’t need to have matching everything – eclectic is interesting (I, the perfectionist, struggle to remember this every time one of Pico’s bowls break and I want to rush down to Ikea and replace it).

6. Thank you notes are not negotiable, even for family members – write them in a timely manner.

7. Yes, you can reuse that plastic bag, and you should.

8. Making your bed takes two minutes and makes a huge difference.

9. If you love your job, you never dread going to work.

10. When you’re a guest in someone’s home, clean up after yourself and always offer to help.

11. Know prices on everyday items; then you’ll know when you’re getting a good deal and should buy more.

12. You shouldn’t worry about things you can’t control, and you probably shouldn’t worry too much about the things you can control either – worry doesn’t accomplish anything.

13. It’s ok to have a few things that are just pretty to look at and serve no other function.

14. Read, read, read.

15. Get informed and get involved in causes that are important to you, and give what you can, whether it’s time or money or a letter to your Congressman.

16. Children don’t have to be born to you to be yours; it isn’t biology that makes a mother, it’s love, kindness, sacrifice, desire, and a big enough heart that make a mother.

Happy Mother’s Day! What has your mom taught you?

Uncertainty and mystery are energies of life. Don’t let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity.
— R.I. Fitzhenry

I don’t like to say I told you so, but it is entirely possible that I did tell you so.

Yesterday was pretty scary, though today I’m mostly fine. I don’t have any idea how I’ll be tomorrow. It’s a medical thing, and it could be nothing, it could be something, and it might be a little while before I find out either way.

Please don’t worry, because even if it’s something, I’m going to be fine, but please send good thoughts.

Real magic doesn’t come from achieving the perfect appearance, from being Cinderella at the ball with both glass slippers and a killer hairstyle. The real magic is in the pumpkin, in the mice, in the moonlight; not beyond ordinary life, but within it.
— from Expecting Adam, by Martha Beck

Do you think that if you get to be truly happy, you have to pay some kind of karmic price for it? I can remember thinking that if J ever came back to me (this, of course, was back when I was sure we were destined to be together) and we got married and had a family and I had everything (I thought) I always wanted, I would have to lose something else I loved, just to keep the cosmic balance sheet in check – like you only get to be so happy without it costing you something. I don’t know if that’s making any sense, but that’s what I thought.

I’ve been thinking about this lately because, over the past month or so, I’ve been the happiest for the longest period of time I can consciously remember being in a very long time. Usually, I have periods of happiness regularly punctuated by bouts of sadness, but lately I’ve just been happy, plain and simple. I mean, last Tuesday I cried a little, just because of the day, and the Braves made me sad Wednesday night, and there have been frustrations here and there, but nothing major has happened to knock me into a funk. I don’t know if it’s the weather, or that it’s baseball season (I pinpoint the beginning of this period of happiness to Opening Day), or the headway I’m making on Couch to 5k and the resulting health benefits, or that I’m making an effort to be more positive (because I am), but I just feel good practically all the time: the sky seems bluer, my cat seems sweeter, my job seems less stressful, things just seem to be working themselves out.

And that worries me. I was thinking today – while I was out on a long walk through a park near my house that I’d been to once before, but not on such a beautiful day when there were sunbathers, and people playing catch, and dogs running around, and kids playing baseball – that as happy as I feel, there’s an undercurrent of waiting for something to happen, and I couldn’t figure out what it is. Then I realized: I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. On some level, I’m expecting that, in exchange for the happiness I have right now, I’m going to have to trade something I might not want to part with. It’s kind of the way I felt after I lost my hearing – things were going well, I was really starting to be happy with myself and my life again after a long period of being miserable, and then, BAM.  And I just can’t shake the feeling that it’s coming around again.

That’s silly, right?  I mean, it’s probably just being nervous, because I’ve been thinking that I’m starting to feel good enough to start doing things and going to places where I’ll have to interact with strangers in order to meet new people, and maybe even find someone I like enough to ask out.  I’m comfortable here now, and I know that to get to the next place I want to go in life, I have to take matters into my own hands, and I’ve been thinking about ways to do that, and so I’m probably just anxious about that.  I hope that’s all it is; I like being happy, I like smiling my way through the day and looking on the bright side, and I don’t want to waste time looking over my shoulder worrying about what bad thing might be about to befall me.

I could use some reassurance, if you’ve got any.