My mom:
waves goodbye out the window each time I drive away from the house.
loves true crime books and mobster movies/shows.
makes the best spaghetti sauce you will ever eat—truly, I have never had better.
taught me I'm supposed to iron the collar and cuffs on a shirt first. (and that everything i own needs a better pressing. she's a first-rate ironer).
cries when young kids win olympic gold medals.
loves babies and children and has a knack for communicating with even the most difficult ones. When we go to Target, I know when her students are there because they get the same wide-eyed stare I'd give Madonna if I saw her buying toilet paper.
gave me her: exact color of eyes (blue-gray), pale skin, chiclet teeth, thank-god-its-fast metabolism. Even my knees look like my mom's. I am practically a clone of my mom, although my nose is different and my feet look just like my dad's.
worries more than she should.
has started to call Mo her granddoggie, a day I thought I'd never see!
has always said all we kids had to do was our best. If that wasn't an A or first place or taking the obvious path to our goals, that didn't matter. As long as it was our best.
walks quickly, in shorter strides. Her mom said she ran first.
is usually hurrying, but always has time to talk. ALWAYS.
completes, or nearly completes, the New York Times crossword puzzle.
loves flowers and gardening and hates lima beans.
has been right about just about everything that she warned me she was right about.
including one of her common phrases: this too shall pass.
now I use it all the time, too.
still signs her emails to me "love mommy." even though I don't always call her that out loud anymore.
is still my mommy. Always.
never compared her children to each other. Always made us feel loved equally (although we tease her about Chris being her favorite). I think that's a pretty amazing feat.
understands both sides of stories most of the time. She's a true middle child.
is an adventurous eater and taught me to be one, too. (Although I still hate bananas and melon.) we like to go out to eat together.
loves to be included in new adventures, travel, restaurants, or hearing a new CD. Life is learning.
once cut out a photo of George Michael (this was the '80's after all) in his Faith days, and hung it on the inside of a cabinet door in our kitchen. She liked him.
and Cher, and Bon Jovi. And I can remember dancing around to Bruce Springsteen's album Born in the USA in our living room with her.
puts everyone else first.
wears Calyx perfume.
always made us the dinner of our choice on our birthdays. Also, we were allowed to choose a cake, and she made it at home.
didn't go to college, but I'd hazard a guess and say she would have majored in architecture or interior design if she had.
is incredibly intelligent. She's a voracious reader and puzzle do-er. She 'gets' people, too.
read to me every night when I was little. Even as the books got longer, we would just read a chapter or two aloud every night. one of our favorites was Island of the Blue Dolphins.
enjoys setting a table. Maybe she wouldn't think so, but the effort she puts in shows. She loves getting the right napkins and cute salad plates and even covers the chairs. She makes events more special because of it.
has completely rocked at being a mom. It's just her nature. She has connected with her children and grandchildren and their significant others and just about everyone around her because she is a good listener, fast with a laugh, and kind. She's engaging and charming and beautiful, too.
As I get older, I realize what a sacrifice being a mother is. On how many days it is a completely thankless job. I realize how not everyone is meant to be a mom. How selfless and giving you'd have to be to become a successful one. How much love you have to give. How lucky I am to have gotten such an amazing mom, who is my friend and mom. Who I respect and adore. I am not even a mom yet, but I feel like I get what she has done for us as a mom, sent us out into the world prepared as well as a mom can, continuing to send us home with leftovers and sometimes calling to make sure we got home safely.
Thank you, Mommy, for the sacrifices you have made for your three kids. I realize now how difficult some of them might have been, but you never making us feel like they were. Thanks for always being proud of my "best." For supporting my decisions and my emotions, and for even telling me when I was completely crazy in a nice way. Thank you for being enthusiastic about all my successes and telling me my failures were just learning experiences. thank you for telling me when I feel down and out that "Mom still loves you, Dad still loves you, Susie and Chris still love you, William still loves you" and on and on until I smile at all the people who love me and realize my troubles aren't so bad. I hope someday, I can repay you. Perhaps one day I will show up at your door with my coat pressed, after all. I love you so much.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
Two Weeks
Two weeks from now, I will be in Hawaii, and four days from my wedding. We will officially, legally, be a "we," although we have been a "we" since about July 25, 2005. Our first date was July 8, and I can honestly say I was in love with William on our second date. I didn't tell him that until much later, but I was.
I remember what he wore. It was a hot, hot, fry-eggs-on-the-sidewalk July afternoon. He had on this baby blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts, and I can remember thinking, as my hair whipped around my face while driving down the freeway with him that he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen in my whole life, and he had been in front of my face for years. It was our second "date," although we were just hanging out, and I think it was a Sunday afternoon.
We beat the heat by going to the mall for a while, but neither of us really wanted to shop. So we went into Barnes and Noble, and we sat on the floor and looked at art books together. As if that wasn't enough to capture my heart, we went home, and he wanted to play me a song on his iPod. We listened to it togther, one earphone for each of us, sitting so close I was sure he could hear my heart beating.
I get butterflies just thinking of that moment.
The chemicals in our brains don't really allow us to return to those fleeting first moments of dating, where, at the time, it feels like agony, but later, you sometimes wish you could recapture. but when I think about him, tan and handsome in his light blue shirt, twinkling hazel eyes (oh, his eyes) and offering me an earphone, I get all twitterpated and giggle.
I am more in love than I could have ever imagined a person can be. Maybe that's totally sickening. But it's completely true. william makes me laugh like....forty times a day. He treats me with respect and kindness. He goes shopping with me. We have funny conversations, we have serious conversations, and sometimes we just sit silent in front of the tv, or he paints and I write. We usually disagree what music to listen to, but we like the same kinds.
I have a true partner in William. In every sense of the word. I feel so lucky. So, so, so lucky. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the person I want to be with for the rest of my life, and that is fulfilling in a way that I cannot even describe. It's overfilling, more than fulfilling.
William came home from work yesterday and says to me: I was planning to go on this bike ride, but now it has to get moved. And when they changed the date, I just automatically said yes, since I wanted to go. Then I realized it was two weeks from now, a nd we'll be in Hawaii! We're at the point where people are making plans in advance, that are not so in advance, and we won't be here.
The excitement on his face showed. I started to laugh.
William says: We are leaving in TWO WEEKS.
I say: I know!
And we just sort of stare at each other, like . . . this is it!
This. Is. It.
I have dreams every night about all the things that can go wrong (and do), but oddly, I don't think about those during the day. it's been an overwhelming almost-two-months during this layoff. Tumultuous does not even begin to describe the peaks and valleys of the last 50 days. I feel like I'm at that point on a rollercoaster where you look down before the first drop and think, We are not going any higher than this. This is already way too high.
I know we have a few more chik-chik-chiks before we reach the top and I can look down with certainty that this is it, the top, are we ready? And then my stomach will be two stories above my body, where suddenly the chain lets go and I hear almost nothing at all except the sharp intake of breath I'm saving for the most exciting moment.
I remember what he wore. It was a hot, hot, fry-eggs-on-the-sidewalk July afternoon. He had on this baby blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts, and I can remember thinking, as my hair whipped around my face while driving down the freeway with him that he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen in my whole life, and he had been in front of my face for years. It was our second "date," although we were just hanging out, and I think it was a Sunday afternoon.
We beat the heat by going to the mall for a while, but neither of us really wanted to shop. So we went into Barnes and Noble, and we sat on the floor and looked at art books together. As if that wasn't enough to capture my heart, we went home, and he wanted to play me a song on his iPod. We listened to it togther, one earphone for each of us, sitting so close I was sure he could hear my heart beating.
I get butterflies just thinking of that moment.
The chemicals in our brains don't really allow us to return to those fleeting first moments of dating, where, at the time, it feels like agony, but later, you sometimes wish you could recapture. but when I think about him, tan and handsome in his light blue shirt, twinkling hazel eyes (oh, his eyes) and offering me an earphone, I get all twitterpated and giggle.
I am more in love than I could have ever imagined a person can be. Maybe that's totally sickening. But it's completely true. william makes me laugh like....forty times a day. He treats me with respect and kindness. He goes shopping with me. We have funny conversations, we have serious conversations, and sometimes we just sit silent in front of the tv, or he paints and I write. We usually disagree what music to listen to, but we like the same kinds.
I have a true partner in William. In every sense of the word. I feel so lucky. So, so, so lucky. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the person I want to be with for the rest of my life, and that is fulfilling in a way that I cannot even describe. It's overfilling, more than fulfilling.
William came home from work yesterday and says to me: I was planning to go on this bike ride, but now it has to get moved. And when they changed the date, I just automatically said yes, since I wanted to go. Then I realized it was two weeks from now, a nd we'll be in Hawaii! We're at the point where people are making plans in advance, that are not so in advance, and we won't be here.
The excitement on his face showed. I started to laugh.
William says: We are leaving in TWO WEEKS.
I say: I know!
And we just sort of stare at each other, like . . . this is it!
This. Is. It.
I have dreams every night about all the things that can go wrong (and do), but oddly, I don't think about those during the day. it's been an overwhelming almost-two-months during this layoff. Tumultuous does not even begin to describe the peaks and valleys of the last 50 days. I feel like I'm at that point on a rollercoaster where you look down before the first drop and think, We are not going any higher than this. This is already way too high.
I know we have a few more chik-chik-chiks before we reach the top and I can look down with certainty that this is it, the top, are we ready? And then my stomach will be two stories above my body, where suddenly the chain lets go and I hear almost nothing at all except the sharp intake of breath I'm saving for the most exciting moment.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Interview
Just kidding. Last minute move to Monday.
At 10:30 Central time, I have an interview. For a job! That has great benefits! And I know the president of the company because I have been freelancing for her.
So let's all hope it goes well. I haven't slept well in days, and I'm under the gun to get a lot of writing done. I have to shake that all off and look glowing and bright when I walk in. And say funny, intelligent things. These are feats on a regular day!
More later, as it is two weeks to the date that I leave for Hawaii!!!
At 10:30 Central time, I have an interview. For a job! That has great benefits! And I know the president of the company because I have been freelancing for her.
So let's all hope it goes well. I haven't slept well in days, and I'm under the gun to get a lot of writing done. I have to shake that all off and look glowing and bright when I walk in. And say funny, intelligent things. These are feats on a regular day!
More later, as it is two weeks to the date that I leave for Hawaii!!!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Like a Little Prayer
Ok, so I realized that maybe my blog got weird in the last post. Maybe not. It was really me just being irrational and hoping to be rational. I shouldn't get into a religious discussion here, but I just wanted to say:
If there's a God, I am sure he or she doesn't really care if I get all my writing done. Maybe in some all-knowing, wanting happiness for all way, he or she does, perhaps. But I'm pretty sure that if God exists, this is not top of list for him or her. There really are a lot of other things to attend to in the world. I think I meant "pray for me" in a very general sense but maybe came off wrong.
I would love to make a joke or two, but everything I've typed so far can just be taken the wrong way on the interwebs.
I feel like I need to get this off my chest. Be kind.:
I think the concept of a heaven or afterworld is true. I think when we leave our bodies, that we aren't done. Energy never disappears, it re-forms, and I do believe that I have felt the presence of ghosts and spirits. I think there is great lesson to be learned in the Golden Rule, which is repeated throughout many great religions and moral and philosophical texts worldwide, as well as in the homes of perfectly non-religious people. I do believe in the power of attitude, the power of prayer, the power of sending good vibes and energies out into the world. I believe in karma. I believe to some extent in reincarnation. I believe that we need the comfort of knowing or faithfully believing there is more, or a better, more perfect state. I believe that we might all be lucky enough to feel the presence of someone who passed with whom we were close. I believe we should want less and do more. (I am so guilty of the opposite.) I believe you can hope and pray for wonderful things for another being who does not believe the same things as you, and they count just as much. I believe that organized religion helps many people, but not all people, with these issues and more. I believe that some people use religion as a shield for their wrongdoings, though, too. And I believe we all have the right to practice any form of those things—which we call religion or lifestyle or kindnesses or just plain humanities—without judgment or persecution.
That's all.
If there's a God, I am sure he or she doesn't really care if I get all my writing done. Maybe in some all-knowing, wanting happiness for all way, he or she does, perhaps. But I'm pretty sure that if God exists, this is not top of list for him or her. There really are a lot of other things to attend to in the world. I think I meant "pray for me" in a very general sense but maybe came off wrong.
I would love to make a joke or two, but everything I've typed so far can just be taken the wrong way on the interwebs.
I feel like I need to get this off my chest. Be kind.:
I think the concept of a heaven or afterworld is true. I think when we leave our bodies, that we aren't done. Energy never disappears, it re-forms, and I do believe that I have felt the presence of ghosts and spirits. I think there is great lesson to be learned in the Golden Rule, which is repeated throughout many great religions and moral and philosophical texts worldwide, as well as in the homes of perfectly non-religious people. I do believe in the power of attitude, the power of prayer, the power of sending good vibes and energies out into the world. I believe in karma. I believe to some extent in reincarnation. I believe that we need the comfort of knowing or faithfully believing there is more, or a better, more perfect state. I believe that we might all be lucky enough to feel the presence of someone who passed with whom we were close. I believe we should want less and do more. (I am so guilty of the opposite.) I believe you can hope and pray for wonderful things for another being who does not believe the same things as you, and they count just as much. I believe that organized religion helps many people, but not all people, with these issues and more. I believe that some people use religion as a shield for their wrongdoings, though, too. And I believe we all have the right to practice any form of those things—which we call religion or lifestyle or kindnesses or just plain humanities—without judgment or persecution.
That's all.
Pray For Me
This week ahead includes a LOT of writing, on two long stories in which I have done a LOT of reporting. It's really important to me that they both come off really well in the first turn-in, so pray. Pray. OK, if you don't believe in God (which is totally OK in house o' Willikat) could you at least do one of those "Hey, let Katie rock the writing today?" into the universe? Thanks.
I am working on overcoming bride brain to just write, write, write my little butt off. I got my errands for today out of the way early, dressed and ready early, and coffee in hand. I even dropped Mo off at my parents' house (man, she loves my dad, I think more than she loves me) so she wasn't here for snuggles and walks.
I'm going to turn on my magic writing music (Belle & Sebastian, Beck's Sea Change, Billie Holiday) and write.
I am working on overcoming bride brain to just write, write, write my little butt off. I got my errands for today out of the way early, dressed and ready early, and coffee in hand. I even dropped Mo off at my parents' house (man, she loves my dad, I think more than she loves me) so she wasn't here for snuggles and walks.
I'm going to turn on my magic writing music (Belle & Sebastian, Beck's Sea Change, Billie Holiday) and write.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
God Bless the Internet
I was searching for some wedding music on YouTube and found this gem. I probably have never talked about my love for both trumpet-laced music and Johnny Cash (and if I could do a Venn diagram, the circles would intersect at Ring of Fire!).
But I do love both, greatly. And I happened upon this video, which is a performance with Louis Armstrong and Johnny Cash on the Johnny Cash show in 1970. I could listen to it over and over.
OK, what is up? I used to be be able to embed YouTube videos but now it won't let me. Did something change? Please advise.
But I do love both, greatly. And I happened upon this video, which is a performance with Louis Armstrong and Johnny Cash on the Johnny Cash show in 1970. I could listen to it over and over.
OK, what is up? I used to be be able to embed YouTube videos but now it won't let me. Did something change? Please advise.
Friday, May 2, 2008
25 Days
This spring has been just terrible, weather-wise. I was so psyched that at the very least, I would be able to go out and enjoy warming weather, sunshiny skies, and long walks with Molly during my underemployment. Instead, it's been cold, dreary, rainy, sleety, and even sometimes snowy. Today it is so dark out it's practically like night, which makes it difficult to want to do anything, save for curling up on the couch with Mo and watching John Hughes movies.
I am totally losing focus on everything that requires my attention. I think I have caught a case of wedding-brain. I'm working every day and doing interviews and writing and networking and all those things, but it feels like a part of my brain is always wandering 10 percent off track, or, like today, when I'm waiting for callbacks, I can't seem to motivate myself to do anything beyond wait, when I could be efficiently typing away on another story. I have a lot to accomplish in the next week, two big stories, and I'm excited about them both, but I just caught myself daydreaming about packing my suitcase. I was worried that when we left for Hawaii the spring would have been beautiful and perfect and I would have been mad that I waited so long to leave, but that doesn't appear to be the case anymore.
My dress should be ready next week. RSVPs are coming in every day now. Everything's rented and ready to be delivered on June 13 for the reception. My wedding planner e-mailed me today, and we're rolling on final details. William is headed to a weekend away with just a very few of his friends for his bachelor party; mine is next Saturday.
I certainly don't want to wish this highly anticipatory time away, but in some ways, I wish it was just here. I know it goes fast and I'll regret even saying that. But now I've reached the kid-at-Christmas feeling, just wondering how everything is going to happen and what's inside the box marked "For Katie and William."
In 25 days, my name is changing. I will wear an ivory dress and hope that my photos turn out ok. In 25 days, I will be on the sunny isle of Maui, glad that we decided to go and do it the way we really wanted. IN 25 days, I will be flying out of Maui to Kauai, for my honeymoon.
What a strange concept. I hardly feel old enough to be getting married, having a honeymoon, bridal showers, or bachelorette parties. I'm 27, so that's plenty normal, but I can remember this same feeling enveloping me at my high school, then college, graduations.
I have nail polish picked out, hair appointments to keep. I think about what the ceremony will be like, if I will need coffee in the morning, if I will be nervous or excited or just overly happy.
Yesterday I received a package in the mail, intended as something for my bachelorette party, from the Kilipino, one of my very bestest friends in the whole wide world—a fitting phrase since she's now in her second year of service for the Peace Corps in Paraguay. The address label was my first name and my new last name. She's been doing this for a while, but it has always seemed like a joke until yesterday. I opened the package, a gorgeous dress from J Crew, and the card. I sat down on the couch and tears rolled down my face, with the dress in one hand and the card in the other. She won't be there on my big day, and I will miss her fiercely. The dress is gorgeous, of course something I'd want, and I ironed it and put it on, wearing it to my interview (for a story, not a job) that afternoon.
In 25 days, we will have been on Maui for four days. We will have been anxiously awaiting these moments for a year and a half. It will all be happening.
I am totally losing focus on everything that requires my attention. I think I have caught a case of wedding-brain. I'm working every day and doing interviews and writing and networking and all those things, but it feels like a part of my brain is always wandering 10 percent off track, or, like today, when I'm waiting for callbacks, I can't seem to motivate myself to do anything beyond wait, when I could be efficiently typing away on another story. I have a lot to accomplish in the next week, two big stories, and I'm excited about them both, but I just caught myself daydreaming about packing my suitcase. I was worried that when we left for Hawaii the spring would have been beautiful and perfect and I would have been mad that I waited so long to leave, but that doesn't appear to be the case anymore.
My dress should be ready next week. RSVPs are coming in every day now. Everything's rented and ready to be delivered on June 13 for the reception. My wedding planner e-mailed me today, and we're rolling on final details. William is headed to a weekend away with just a very few of his friends for his bachelor party; mine is next Saturday.
I certainly don't want to wish this highly anticipatory time away, but in some ways, I wish it was just here. I know it goes fast and I'll regret even saying that. But now I've reached the kid-at-Christmas feeling, just wondering how everything is going to happen and what's inside the box marked "For Katie and William."
In 25 days, my name is changing. I will wear an ivory dress and hope that my photos turn out ok. In 25 days, I will be on the sunny isle of Maui, glad that we decided to go and do it the way we really wanted. IN 25 days, I will be flying out of Maui to Kauai, for my honeymoon.
What a strange concept. I hardly feel old enough to be getting married, having a honeymoon, bridal showers, or bachelorette parties. I'm 27, so that's plenty normal, but I can remember this same feeling enveloping me at my high school, then college, graduations.
I have nail polish picked out, hair appointments to keep. I think about what the ceremony will be like, if I will need coffee in the morning, if I will be nervous or excited or just overly happy.
Yesterday I received a package in the mail, intended as something for my bachelorette party, from the Kilipino, one of my very bestest friends in the whole wide world—a fitting phrase since she's now in her second year of service for the Peace Corps in Paraguay. The address label was my first name and my new last name. She's been doing this for a while, but it has always seemed like a joke until yesterday. I opened the package, a gorgeous dress from J Crew, and the card. I sat down on the couch and tears rolled down my face, with the dress in one hand and the card in the other. She won't be there on my big day, and I will miss her fiercely. The dress is gorgeous, of course something I'd want, and I ironed it and put it on, wearing it to my interview (for a story, not a job) that afternoon.
In 25 days, we will have been on Maui for four days. We will have been anxiously awaiting these moments for a year and a half. It will all be happening.
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