Why is post Christmasing so sad.
Is it because it's all over and the fun is in making it happen and not in unmaking it or is it because it's such a marker - another year, what did you do to be a better person, make your world a better place, what did you lose.
Perhaps is it because you have so much crap you are astounded and wonder where it all came from and how a holiday that occupies 1/12 of the year can take up so much space in the basement.
Maybe it's because you think that going into the basement is like a trip to purgatory - you are going underground and retrieving 15 giant plastic buckets of Christmas crap. Dante would be all over that.
Ok, basements aren't like a trip to purgatory unless it's for laundry. I just really hate packing Christmas up.
I didn't put them all on but I personally pulled all the ornaments off the tree. One of the people who was involved in installing them was putting them on without hangers. WTF. Seriously people. Any idea how difficult it is to remove an ornament on a 2 month old dried up live tree without a hanger? I will either have to be more discerning about the invite list for the decorating party or give clearer instructions. It's just that some things in life just seem so FUCKING OBVIOUS like using a tissue when you blow your nose or a hanger for a Christmas ornament.
Yeah, ok. So I really like ornaments. I look for them all the time, especially if they are exceptionally beautiful CHRISTmas things like angels or manger scenes - stuff by Waterford, Wedgewood. I note that this makes me like my mother. FINE.
In spite of all my years I have just learned that my personal collection of ornaments blows. I need to either let people know that's what to give me is lottery tickets AND ornaments for Christmas or stop giving away the stuff I buy because my tree is seriously ghetto.
But is this really my fault? Example? If you give me an ornament, I beg you, CHOOSE CAREFULLY. I will keep the damn thing no matter what it is. I will think of you and thank God for your friendship OR your affect on my life whenever I see it.
Look, I didn't make me or send me, so for pete's sake please do the right thing and give me something so awful it makes me laugh or something really pretty. I'm not kidding, I have things from when I was old enough to remember.
I know what's wrong with me and I suppose I am unleashing it unfairly on on my poor crappy ornaments.
The tree was actually especially beautiful this year. A few idiotic snowmen can't destroy that kind of magic. But it doesn't matter. I haven't seen my dad in a whole year and Mark's dad died two years ago which it turns out is way worse than dying one year ago. There's nothing that can make either of those things less awful at Christmas. Also the house is for sale and I was keenly aware the whole holiday season it might be the last one in my beautiful house.
But what's my real message here? YOU are my ornament so if you give me a reminder, I will think of you fondly at least twice a year - once on, once off, no matter where I am in my life. So make it a good one.
PS - Not that I would expect anything less, but especially nice job Jessica. Your ornament is so awesome I put so I could see it every time I went near the stairs. Damn fucking you, short of fire and flood, I will carry it with me forever.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Friday, November 27, 2009
Oops we did it again
For some reason, cooking a turkey is a problem in my family.
I don't know why but we just can't seem to manage it.
I suppose it shouldn't be an enormous surprise, it's not like I cook, but after all these years and all these failures I am still laboring under some kind holiday enthusiam, a pop-up timer, insert theromoter here, "how hard can it be" mentality.
My Nana had 5 kids and being 1935, didn't work so she always had a hot meal on the table the moment grandfather walked in from work, it was expected. Dinner was applesauce, brown bread, coleslaw, rolls, baked beans, green beans, lima beans, mashed turnips, you name it. Lots of sides to fill up hungry kids in the post depression era. Two generations and more than 50 years later guess what we just can't live without at Thanksgiving. Oh we have to have it all of it or it's just some ordinary dinner.
Turns out that particular family tradition has covered our holiday ass because more often than not, our turkey is totally raw. We have had every variation in the book - not thawed enough, not started early enough, cooked allll night long and still not done.
I wonder if my friend Dave remembers the first turkey I ever tried. I was 22 and it was such a spectacular failure it should have been a cautionary tale for me forever. I think I will recount the fine details of that tale some other time but suffice to say we had invited everyone we knew to that dinner and it was massive public humiliation.
And a turkey? You think you can jam that sucker back in the oven but the truth is, once you cut into it, it's game over baby. I sent my mom home with a full to the top 8 QUART pot of partically cooked, deboned turkey. I have no idea what my mom is going to do with 8 quarts of turkey.
Glad you weren't at my house, aren't you.
I don't know why but we just can't seem to manage it.
I suppose it shouldn't be an enormous surprise, it's not like I cook, but after all these years and all these failures I am still laboring under some kind holiday enthusiam, a pop-up timer, insert theromoter here, "how hard can it be" mentality.
My Nana had 5 kids and being 1935, didn't work so she always had a hot meal on the table the moment grandfather walked in from work, it was expected. Dinner was applesauce, brown bread, coleslaw, rolls, baked beans, green beans, lima beans, mashed turnips, you name it. Lots of sides to fill up hungry kids in the post depression era. Two generations and more than 50 years later guess what we just can't live without at Thanksgiving. Oh we have to have it all of it or it's just some ordinary dinner.
Turns out that particular family tradition has covered our holiday ass because more often than not, our turkey is totally raw. We have had every variation in the book - not thawed enough, not started early enough, cooked allll night long and still not done.
I wonder if my friend Dave remembers the first turkey I ever tried. I was 22 and it was such a spectacular failure it should have been a cautionary tale for me forever. I think I will recount the fine details of that tale some other time but suffice to say we had invited everyone we knew to that dinner and it was massive public humiliation.
And a turkey? You think you can jam that sucker back in the oven but the truth is, once you cut into it, it's game over baby. I sent my mom home with a full to the top 8 QUART pot of partically cooked, deboned turkey. I have no idea what my mom is going to do with 8 quarts of turkey.
Glad you weren't at my house, aren't you.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Did you ever feel so tired that you felt...retarded? indisposed? drunk with exhaustion?
I have been tired but never so tired I felt like not only was I not in my body, I had no idea where to locate my body.
We failed at acquiring something we wanted this week. The only thing that is weird about it is that it is unusual. Usually we know what we want and we find a way to make. it. happen.
Not this time.
I want to believe that if it wasn't meant to be then life has taught us that forcing something is a huge mistake. There's no question you can force a round peg in a square hole, but there's also no question that there will be damage and regrets. The right things are not forced, they are gifts freely given.
But I'm still so let down.
Hope doesn't know anything about square holes.
I have been tired but never so tired I felt like not only was I not in my body, I had no idea where to locate my body.
We failed at acquiring something we wanted this week. The only thing that is weird about it is that it is unusual. Usually we know what we want and we find a way to make. it. happen.
Not this time.
I want to believe that if it wasn't meant to be then life has taught us that forcing something is a huge mistake. There's no question you can force a round peg in a square hole, but there's also no question that there will be damage and regrets. The right things are not forced, they are gifts freely given.
But I'm still so let down.
Hope doesn't know anything about square holes.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
How Long to Sing This Song
A few years ago someone invented an under-bed storage bag that you hook up to a vacuum cleaner and suck all the air out so you can store stuff in the minimum amount of space. I was walking around CVS tonight and realized that's how I felt. Crushed. Sucked small. Wrinkled. Seems like time for an anti-depressant. If you start having anxiety attacks when the sun goes down, it's probably time.
In other vacuum news, the schnauzer appears to have the magical ability to attract little burrs into the fur around his nose. I'm talking about hundreds, as if I put some kind of burr mousse into his nose fur. How the hell am I going to get those things out? What if I have to shave his beard off? I think he spends 50% of the year looking ridiculous because we have to denude him for stuff like this.
Tell me what you think of magical skills. Do you think everyone has a magical ability? I don't but I know some people do have it and it's weird. Let's say you have a gift, that's fine. I don't begrudge you but what I don't understand is why can't it be something useful? Just wondering.
In other vacuum news, the schnauzer appears to have the magical ability to attract little burrs into the fur around his nose. I'm talking about hundreds, as if I put some kind of burr mousse into his nose fur. How the hell am I going to get those things out? What if I have to shave his beard off? I think he spends 50% of the year looking ridiculous because we have to denude him for stuff like this.
Tell me what you think of magical skills. Do you think everyone has a magical ability? I don't but I know some people do have it and it's weird. Let's say you have a gift, that's fine. I don't begrudge you but what I don't understand is why can't it be something useful? Just wondering.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Birthday
Yesterday my mother called me at work at 9:30 all excited and said "it's the last day of your thirties!!". And then I was rude to her because who calls someone at work to say that. Plus, what exactly is the appropriate response? And then I felt really bad that I was rude, but seriously, wtf.
And while we are on the subject of my mother, I am at a complete loss to understand why she has no boundaries when it comes to work. She calls, she drops by, she comes into my office and uncrates the dog. Can you imagine your mother dropping in unexpectedly to your workplace once every couple of weeks? Even after living in New England for more than a year, she still doesn't get why it stresses us out.
Anyway.
Many weeks ago Rachel and Mark secretly discussed THE PLAN for my birthday - having my friends meet us at the MFA, going to an exhibit and then going to dinner. Mark said "great!" and left it all in her very capable party planning hands.
She proceeded to make very elaborate and secret preparations and Mark, assuming THE PLAN was exactly as they discussed, was a good sport and played right along. I started receiving letters in the mail telling me to do this and that, reserve this date and time, etc all very mysterious and exciting.
It's incredible to me, but somehow Mark never once checked in with her. Meanwhile, she knows him pretty well but it never occurred to her that he wouldn't be able to cope with a happy surprise - something she thought would be great fun.
So what she did was instead of planning a party (she figured been there, done that) she decided as a surprise to book us a romantic weekend for two in Boston. She would get us to our destination and then leave the fine details up to us - we could to do as much or as little as we liked.
She booked a room at the 4 Seasons that came with champagne, chocolate and breakfast, plus tickets to an exhibit at the MFA on Sunday afternoon. Dinner cash with taxi fare was provided (courtesy of my brother) and suggestions were given but the choice was left up to us.
Great! Fun! The only issue is, Mark can't roll like that.
He always needs a plan from the moment he gets out of bed in the morning until he goes to bed at night. Allll planned. On a regular day to day basis he juggles constantly - calls, questions, drop ins, but all on his turf. Take him away from his comfort zone and he can rarely can keep it together if anything unexpected pops up. If he forgets the GPS and gets lost, if the plane is delayed, if the car is low on gas, if airport parking is full, if he forgets his cell charger, you name it, it doesn't take much, he completely and usually inappropriately loses it.
In this case, neither of us knew exactly where we were going (we had an address and directions) and we were sent into the heart of the city, negotiating traffic and pedestrians. Then, suddenly we arrived at the address we were given and 4 valets leaped from the curb, opening our doors, helping with the bags, welcoming us, asking for the room reservation name, needing to be tipped, holding the lobby doors open and all that was before we got into the building. Right about then, I opened the next envelope and he learned that there was no plan, no dinner reservations, no friends coming and he was just supposed to relax. Result: plan change and instant epic meltdown.
So, the weekend didn't go as planned but I suppose my reminder is my life never does. It the end, it was a really lovely thought but next time we will let Mark stay at work and it will just be a girls weekend.
And while we are on the subject of my mother, I am at a complete loss to understand why she has no boundaries when it comes to work. She calls, she drops by, she comes into my office and uncrates the dog. Can you imagine your mother dropping in unexpectedly to your workplace once every couple of weeks? Even after living in New England for more than a year, she still doesn't get why it stresses us out.
Anyway.
Many weeks ago Rachel and Mark secretly discussed THE PLAN for my birthday - having my friends meet us at the MFA, going to an exhibit and then going to dinner. Mark said "great!" and left it all in her very capable party planning hands.
She proceeded to make very elaborate and secret preparations and Mark, assuming THE PLAN was exactly as they discussed, was a good sport and played right along. I started receiving letters in the mail telling me to do this and that, reserve this date and time, etc all very mysterious and exciting.
It's incredible to me, but somehow Mark never once checked in with her. Meanwhile, she knows him pretty well but it never occurred to her that he wouldn't be able to cope with a happy surprise - something she thought would be great fun.
So what she did was instead of planning a party (she figured been there, done that) she decided as a surprise to book us a romantic weekend for two in Boston. She would get us to our destination and then leave the fine details up to us - we could to do as much or as little as we liked.
She booked a room at the 4 Seasons that came with champagne, chocolate and breakfast, plus tickets to an exhibit at the MFA on Sunday afternoon. Dinner cash with taxi fare was provided (courtesy of my brother) and suggestions were given but the choice was left up to us.
Great! Fun! The only issue is, Mark can't roll like that.
He always needs a plan from the moment he gets out of bed in the morning until he goes to bed at night. Allll planned. On a regular day to day basis he juggles constantly - calls, questions, drop ins, but all on his turf. Take him away from his comfort zone and he can rarely can keep it together if anything unexpected pops up. If he forgets the GPS and gets lost, if the plane is delayed, if the car is low on gas, if airport parking is full, if he forgets his cell charger, you name it, it doesn't take much, he completely and usually inappropriately loses it.
In this case, neither of us knew exactly where we were going (we had an address and directions) and we were sent into the heart of the city, negotiating traffic and pedestrians. Then, suddenly we arrived at the address we were given and 4 valets leaped from the curb, opening our doors, helping with the bags, welcoming us, asking for the room reservation name, needing to be tipped, holding the lobby doors open and all that was before we got into the building. Right about then, I opened the next envelope and he learned that there was no plan, no dinner reservations, no friends coming and he was just supposed to relax. Result: plan change and instant epic meltdown.
So, the weekend didn't go as planned but I suppose my reminder is my life never does. It the end, it was a really lovely thought but next time we will let Mark stay at work and it will just be a girls weekend.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Post Thanksgiving wrap up
Well, I survived. I was thinking this year would be zero fun because I have never attended a Thanksgiving with only 4 people, let alone hosted such a small party. But the lack of people turned out to be deceiving - my mom and sister stayed over the night before, Ann came for dinner, Jack dropped by with chocolates and just when I was ready for bed (around 7) Rach and Bob came back and we all watched movies until late. Fun!!
Dinner was awful, but that's what happens when you only cook once a year. At least the turkey was perfect. We looked at it as practice for Christmas when we're going all out - ham, turkey, the works - everything I can think of.
This is the first year I have been really sad not to go home to Pennsylvania. I hate the drive, but there's something so nice about Christmas there. It's different. It's neighborly - people bring Christmas cookies to each other. So many plates of cookies show up, no one family could possibly eat them all. Churches ring their bells and play carols on loudspeakers; there are always carolers. We are invited to lots of gatherings, there's lots of family to try and get around to and sometimes we even have time to see our high school friends.
We just don't have that up here. We have lived in this house for 9 years and most of our neighbors have never introduced themselves, let alone bring us cookies. There's an older lady that walks by every morning that I wave to and she never waves back. I was brought up to wave to everybody, wasn't everyone??
Yes, I know, I could start something, send a couple of plates around and see how it goes but it just doesn't seem like it's something normal up here. Or am I wrong - do your neighbors have you in? Bring you cookies? Carol at your house? Do tell.
We are pretty anti-social in general, so perhaps that's it. And it's something else too - we don't have kids and our neighborhood is filled with them. Parallel to that thought, Mark doesn't hang with his extended family much and that always makes the holidays odder. I find them to be very nice people and very artsy crafty - the men are into all kinds of sports and the women are knitters, quilters, cross stitchers, etc. however, Mark is different and it isn't that he has his own personal library of car books in order by marque. Of all the cousins, Mark is pretty much the only one without at least one little kid. Mark's mom keeps inviting us to do things, most recently a trip to Arizona in May for a big extended family vacation but she keeps forgetting we don't have little kids. People who don't have little kids are not positioned well to be able to add to a discussion about hand-me-downs, toilet training, school photos and Storyland expansion. I'm not pooping on school pictures or Storyland but right now, I feel very out of place around his cousins with all their little people and diaper bags and it's another reason why I wish I was heading home to my old 'hood for a big box of holiday nostalgia.
Hopefully, in another year my Dad will still be there and we can head back and breathe in deeply of everything that lets you know you're back where you came from and life is all special and Christmasy.
Dinner was awful, but that's what happens when you only cook once a year. At least the turkey was perfect. We looked at it as practice for Christmas when we're going all out - ham, turkey, the works - everything I can think of.
This is the first year I have been really sad not to go home to Pennsylvania. I hate the drive, but there's something so nice about Christmas there. It's different. It's neighborly - people bring Christmas cookies to each other. So many plates of cookies show up, no one family could possibly eat them all. Churches ring their bells and play carols on loudspeakers; there are always carolers. We are invited to lots of gatherings, there's lots of family to try and get around to and sometimes we even have time to see our high school friends.
We just don't have that up here. We have lived in this house for 9 years and most of our neighbors have never introduced themselves, let alone bring us cookies. There's an older lady that walks by every morning that I wave to and she never waves back. I was brought up to wave to everybody, wasn't everyone??
Yes, I know, I could start something, send a couple of plates around and see how it goes but it just doesn't seem like it's something normal up here. Or am I wrong - do your neighbors have you in? Bring you cookies? Carol at your house? Do tell.
We are pretty anti-social in general, so perhaps that's it. And it's something else too - we don't have kids and our neighborhood is filled with them. Parallel to that thought, Mark doesn't hang with his extended family much and that always makes the holidays odder. I find them to be very nice people and very artsy crafty - the men are into all kinds of sports and the women are knitters, quilters, cross stitchers, etc. however, Mark is different and it isn't that he has his own personal library of car books in order by marque. Of all the cousins, Mark is pretty much the only one without at least one little kid. Mark's mom keeps inviting us to do things, most recently a trip to Arizona in May for a big extended family vacation but she keeps forgetting we don't have little kids. People who don't have little kids are not positioned well to be able to add to a discussion about hand-me-downs, toilet training, school photos and Storyland expansion. I'm not pooping on school pictures or Storyland but right now, I feel very out of place around his cousins with all their little people and diaper bags and it's another reason why I wish I was heading home to my old 'hood for a big box of holiday nostalgia.
Hopefully, in another year my Dad will still be there and we can head back and breathe in deeply of everything that lets you know you're back where you came from and life is all special and Christmasy.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Trying to be thankful
We watched this WWII show the other night about the art collected/stolen/taken by the Nazis during the war. It was very interesting, where they hid it, who found it, etc. But part of the story was the Siege of Lenningrad. I think because of the cold war, I somehow tuned out this little piece of history when studying WWII. A million civilians died from starvation and cold that winter. That would be like one in 5 in Boston. It made me feel very thankful.
However, at the same time the last year has been terribly unhappy and it all started last Thanksgiving. We were moving to the new shop and Mark's dad was diagnosed with cancer. Uncle Charlie had a stroke in December and died two weeks later. The kicker there was the funeral service on the 23rd and I remember traveling on the 24th to come home to an undecorated tree, unwrapped presents and both fathers MIA. Mark's dad was in intensive care and my dad just went home, completely devastated from the loss of his only brother.
It never got better. We had three weeks to get the GTB done and it was low point in my life.There was tremendous fighting and anger and rage which continued right on through the end of the month.
We did take a nice vacation in early February. The guys rented bikes and rode off and Rachel and I just hung out quietly in Naples. Mark became obsessed with having a new Harley and customizing it. He got rid of his "old" bike in March that had 1,500 miles and bought a new one that he worked out exhaustively and wasn't finished until July. In the meantime, we had a Pebble beach project and the customer didn't pick the paint color until June. It was one of the worst weather summers on record in New England. We didn't stay at camp more than a handful of times and when we did, we didn't do anything. Mark didn't want to see anyone because he was too tired.
I am struggling with this Thanksgiving. Is it the beginning of a new and better year or is this just going to be more of the same and if so, what am I prepared to do about it.
However, at the same time the last year has been terribly unhappy and it all started last Thanksgiving. We were moving to the new shop and Mark's dad was diagnosed with cancer. Uncle Charlie had a stroke in December and died two weeks later. The kicker there was the funeral service on the 23rd and I remember traveling on the 24th to come home to an undecorated tree, unwrapped presents and both fathers MIA. Mark's dad was in intensive care and my dad just went home, completely devastated from the loss of his only brother.
It never got better. We had three weeks to get the GTB done and it was low point in my life.There was tremendous fighting and anger and rage which continued right on through the end of the month.
We did take a nice vacation in early February. The guys rented bikes and rode off and Rachel and I just hung out quietly in Naples. Mark became obsessed with having a new Harley and customizing it. He got rid of his "old" bike in March that had 1,500 miles and bought a new one that he worked out exhaustively and wasn't finished until July. In the meantime, we had a Pebble beach project and the customer didn't pick the paint color until June. It was one of the worst weather summers on record in New England. We didn't stay at camp more than a handful of times and when we did, we didn't do anything. Mark didn't want to see anyone because he was too tired.
I am struggling with this Thanksgiving. Is it the beginning of a new and better year or is this just going to be more of the same and if so, what am I prepared to do about it.
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