‘Ello, Govnah! November 5, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Work.18 comments
Things have improved greatly at work from where they were a year ago, when I shared an office with Crazy McShittybritches. Not only do I have my own office with its own door (yes, that still excites me after all these months), but I now have two new co-workers as office neighbors and the three of us get along well. After two years here, I finally have some decent companionship and it’s been a nice change.
Disclaimer: I like both of them, so what I’m about to say is not actually a complaint, but more of a poking fun at a personality trait. Good fun, that’s all.
I don’t know your policy on sharing stories about your personal life at work. Me, I’ve always been pretty middle-of-the-road. With the exception of the one or two people I usually become close friends with at a job (well besides Avatel, where we were for all practical purposes a family to the point we knew each other’s menstrual cycles, bowel schedules and sexual preferences), I limit it to brief and relatable anecdotes. Basically, until I get to know you fairly well, I’m not one to share too much of myself. Of course once you become one of my people, I will then overshare to the point of inappropriateness – ask any of them. Or hell, just read this blog.
Anyway. One of the new office friends – K. She’s a very pleasant woman; wife, mother of four and church-going. Very, very frequently church-going. But not too obnoxious with the church talk. Early on, I pulled the Jew card (which has to be the queen of diamonds, right? Hahaha!) (Oy.) and also added we sometimes attend a Baptist church. This is very effective in confusing people to the point they won’t try and save me. So, we’re cool on that front.
No, her main quirk so far isn’t as big as religion or politics. It’s the scope and nature of family stories she shares. All day. Every day. My other work friend J nor I cannot say anything to her, work-related or not, that doesn’t have her immediatley responding with a cute tale starring her husband and/or kids. I mean – not a biggie in the great scheme of things. Regardless, here’s an example from yesterday morning:
I arrive in the morning and walk to our common area, where our coffee set-up is located. (Aside: A few weeks ago I told them there was a spare coffee pot in the main break room not being used anymore, and that it belonged to me. I’d brought it in long ago when the office’s maker went kaput but we’ve since gotten a new one. We decided to confiscate it and use it ourselves, bringing in our own supplies and sharing and it’s working out great). Anyway.
We said good morning and I held up the container and said, “I brought our replacement coffee!”
Her reply: ”Oh, it was so funny this morning. I didn’t brew any at home like I normally do because I knew I’d have a cup once I got here and my seven-year-old came downstairs and said, ‘Mommy, where’s my coffee!?’ It’s so funny, but about two or three years ago I got in the habit of making him a cup – mostly milk of course - when I made mine and it just became a little routine with us! I had to tell him, ‘Joshua, Mommy didn’t make any this morning but I promise I will tomorrow!’ He was so disappointed!”
My reply back: “…Awww…that’s…funny…”
Another one, just for fun:
Her: “How was your trip to Florida?”
Me: “It was great. I had a lot of fun, especially at Disney.”
Her: “Oh, that’s good. You know, Sam and I have always promised the kids we’d take a trip to Disney one day, but with everybody’s schedules being so different now and my oldest being away at school it’s just so hard. The age difference between my girls and boys really make it difficult for us to find things we can all do as a family, so whatever we end up doing someone is usually pouting a little – haha!”
Me: “…Oh…that’s…true…”
I mean, sweetgeorgiabrown! Maybe it’s because the two examples I just shared both happened fairly early in the morning and I’m not what’s commonly known as a “morning person,” or even “awake before 9 a.m. even though I get to work at 8,” but my God. In the month or so I’ve gotten to know her, I could pretty much give you a play-by-play of the entire inner workings of her household and a good portion of each child’s life history.
Do I prefer this over the sullen silence and occasional rudeness I used to get from Shittybritches? Of course. Does that mean I’m going to stop making fun of it? Ha!
Other fodder for future stories:
- Her humming and/or singing of religious music. I think I posted on Facebook the other day how I hate hummers (insert blowjob joke here) and that I’ve worked near them before. Seriously, with the humming. Do you think your co-workers are enjoying it, that we’re really getting into the melody? Or do you just not care. Or do you not even realize you’re doing it. See, the possibilities here are endless and I feel quite sure I’ll be exploring them all.
- Her breaking into a bizarre, British Cockney accent for no discernable reason, to the point that when she does it J has started calling her Nanny McPhee. I had to bite my tongue from adding, “Or Mrs. Doubtfire,” because I refuse to acknowledge the fuckery out loud for fear of encouraging it. It’s funny when Andy from The Office does it, so I’m not quite sure why it doesn’t work for K. But it doesn’t. So shut it, you silly git, before you drive me nutters!
I wonder what people say about me when they talk about what an asshole I am.
Boats, Buses and Golf Carts November 3, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Fam Damily, Friends, Holidays, Jews, Vacation.7 comments
There were only a couple of things that prevented this trip from being 100% perfection. One, the Florida weather. It’s always a little warmer down there than it is here, but it really showed itself up this time by not getting the memo it was the END OF OCTOBER and not the BEGINNING OF AUGUST. Seriously, it reinforced the fact I am very happy I live someplace that has actual seasons instead of just Hot and Not as Hot. The other thing was Brian deciding to have his weeks-long cough turn into bronchitus-almost-pneumonia and texting me from the doctor’s office that they had him on a breathing machine since his blood wasn’t getting enough oxygen. That was a stressful half hour and I had to forcibly stop myself from getting in the car and driving back twelve hours after I’d arrived. But, he’s doing much better now after a few days of antibiotics and codeine-laced cough syrup (dude canNOT handle his narcotics, btw) and after that scare I went on to have a kickass vacation.
Highlights:
- Even though I hate Summer weather in late Fall, I must admit it was nice to be able to go riding around on Bob’s boat to watch the late afternoon big orange sun slowly drop down through the pink and purple sky over the lake while listening to beachy boat songs. It was one of those moments when life has the perfect soundtrack running and it hasn’t happened to me in awhile.
- Elizabeth had too many social obligations (being a high school cheerleader is a lot more demanding than one would think and I’m not being sarcastic since I now believe she has some real anxiety issues going on) but her cousin Becky, my other daughter-from-another-mother decided to join me for the weekend in Disney. She’s 17 and the fact she still deems me cool enough to hang out with means a lot to me. We stopped at Walmart to get her a costume and we lucked out. For twenty bucks she got to be a guitar for Halloween – I can’t adequately describe how cute she looked.
- To you non-Floridians Disney really isn’t in Orlando, it’s just easier to say that. It’s actually in Kissimmee or if you want to get even more technical, it’s its own little city (a.k.a. Lake Buena Vista) and if the company takes over any more property it will become obvious in its goal to take over the entire state. All this to say, I took the wrong way getting off the turnpike and we almost ended up in Daytona Beach, reinforcing Kim’s Law: If there is a choice between two ways to go, Kim will choose wrong Every Time. Always, no exceptions.
- I’m not sure if Disney pumps Prozac through the air along with the upbeat-but-subtle music, but it truly does live up to its nickname of the happiest place on Earth and that feeling has never changed for me despite having been there close to a hundred times. They might be evil corporate monsters plotting to take over the world, but I’m fine with that.
- Fort Wilderness is the campground there where we stay every time we go and has so much fun stuff to do, I don’t ever feel cheated when I don’t go into one of the parks, which was the case this trip.
- We did manage a short trip over to Downtown Disney however, an annual tradition where I immediately fall under the souvenier spell and feel an intense urge to buy myself and others many Disney-themed gifts. It’s a sickness, I tell you. I haven’t gotten to the point where my aunt is, where most of her casual wardrobe is now made up of Disney character clothing, jewelry and accessories, but I’m sure that’s coming eventually. Prozac air, I’m telling you.
- Cousin Scott and his family didn’t make it down from NY this year which was a bummer, but his younger brother cousin Matt is always a good stand-in and like always I had good fun hanging out with him. We spent the majority of the weekend riding around on tricked-out golf carts (if you’ve never been in a camoflauge colored golf cart that’s jacked up on ridiculous sized wheels and goes 24 mph you haven’t lived) and even when he accidentally crashed the cart into the back of a Disney bus due to looking sideways while driving forward (a serious but common affliction in my family), it only served to send Becky and I into hysterics and will forever be referenced in our collective Remember Whens.
- My niece might just be the cutest, most well-behaved 2-year-old on earth. Yes, obviously I’m biased, but Becky said the same thing. And yes, she’s biased too but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I love her so much I almost can’t stand it. She was Belle from Beauty and the Beast for Halloween and she has unknowingly but single-handedly made me re-commit to uploading my pictures to Flickr. Not today but before the end of the week for reals.
- The kids loaded UP on candy. My cousin Lori summed it up perfectly when she said, “It’s trick-or-treating in the nicest, cleanest, safest neighborhood in the world.” Plus, again – golf carts. Where were they when we used to trick-or-treat, huh? I spent most of my time jumping on and off the back of the cart to take pictures of all the decorated camp sites and offer Becky moral support while she got loaded down with sweets. After inspecting all the kids’ hauls, I was amazed to see there was not a no-name brand in the whole bunch, but Nestles, Hersheys and Wonkas all the way. Nice.
- Sister booked us into one of the Disney resort hotels – All Star Sports/Movies/Music – something like that, but our building was the 101 Dalmations one and it was so freaking cool. Besides the fact it was about ten minutes from the campsite and the first night we headed over there Sister got lost and it took us an hour and a half (the unhelpful hotel front desk person when we called for directions: “Have a magical evening!”), it worked out really well for us convenience-wise and respite-from-family-wise. I love my family but even moreso when I don’t have to sleep in the same space as them. Their loudness transcends sleep and it’s just no good for my sanity levels.
- Awesome fireworks show set to a Halloween story and music on the shores of the Disney lake. Could’ve done without the flying insect I accidentally inhaled and swallowed, but walking barefoot through the sand at night and seeing a chillbump-inducing light show was totally worth it.
- Even with the whole Daylight Savings ending (I highly recommend planning a vacation that ends on this beautiful extra hour day) I ended up tacking an extra 20 hours or so onto the end of my vacation and didn’t leave to come home until yesterday morning at 10:00. This put me back home exactly eight hours later (would’ve been 7 1/2 but my car automatically veered off the exit where the Gap outlet store in Georgia and I was forced to spend a half hour in there to pick up a couple of tees and sweaters that sated my constant Gap jones). I probably should’ve figured on just taking yesterday off from the get-go, but it’s actually more fun when it’s a last-minute decision, like that one extra night feels like a gift. And we made the most of it back at Grace’s house, what with Elizabeth’s hair dyeing adventure, baking brownies, taking another couple of trips around town to various stores and ending the evening with me finally watching Twilight for the first time. Verdict: Uh…didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would? That’s about all I can say about that.
- Me and the girls also stopped by the cemetery and visited my dad and Elizabeth’s grandparents, all of whom are coincidentally located very close to each other. It was just getting dark and it was really peaceful. At the same time, we all kissed our hands and touched my dad’s stone, one of those moments. And did the same to her grandparents and I was sorry I hadn’t thought to buy flowers first but didn’t realize I’d be stopping there until I did. So it happened that I visited my dad, but skipped seeing my mom again. Oops.
- As much fun as it all was, it was also so good to get back to the man, dog, seasonably correct weather and a fire in the fireplace that was happily crackling for me when I walked in the door. I doubt I’ll ever be able to come to terms with loving living here but missing the hell out of my favorite people in the world who are all 400-ish miles away. I guess as long as we all keep making the visits happen, it’ll all work out.
October is over for another year. Holy shit.
Huh? October 27, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Bloggie, Whatever.3 comments
I have no idea how or why the comments closed on that last post. I certainly didn’t do it on purpose, as what is the meaning of life without comments?
It’s an even less exciting post than normal so I’m not changing it at this point, but does anyone know what the hell happened and how I can prevent that from happening again?
Signed,
Tech Tard
Home is Where the (Startled) Heart Is October 25, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Home Life, Whatever.comments closed
Today literally started with a bang (that’s what she said).
I’m sitting at home alone on this pleasantly cool and cloudy Sunday morning (now afternoon) doing some multi-tasking (laundry, internet, minding my own beeswax) (what is beeswax?) when out of nowhere I hear a couple of no-shit, unmistakable real live gunshots. Actually two quick ones in succession and then a couple seconds later, a third.
My first thought was, “Uhhhh….” Which leads me to believe I’m not the person you want to have around in the event of an emergency. After a couple of minutes sitting here trying to justify a reasonable explanation for a firearm being discharged in the middle of my surburban neighborhood on a Sunday morning, I got up and shut the front door which had been purposely left open to let in the lovely Autumn breezes. Thanks a lot, gunshots – now my house is being deprived of that fresh nature smell that Febreeze just can’t replicate.
I’m very comfortable in this neighborhood. It’s a nice blend of young-to-middle-aged dog owners like ourselves who live in small but respectable houses whose yards tend to have more dirt than grass, the lively apartments behind our back yard where you can sometimes hear the equivalent of a Cops episode on a Saturday night (Brian has now given in and finally joined me in this sport. He’s still laughing over the argument a young couple was having a few weeks ago where the girl got so frustrated she yelled, “I’m not sayin’ nothin’! I’m just sayin’!”) and a few streets over, the Bigger Nicer Homes (I don’t know why I refer to them as “homes” and our house as a “house,” but it just seems right) with grass yards and who probably don’t appreciate living so close to us, the non-SUV driving, non-grass having, having to go to work for a living, lower-status neighbors like us. I like the balance of being on the middle tier and don’t harbor any expectations of ever moving up from this station in life. Lowered expecatations = less disappointment, a good code to live by.
And we’ve certainly lived in much scarier places. I look at our years in Lake City, Florida as one long social experiment where the guinea pigs were us and the test was to see how long we could live in a town that is basically a detour off the interstate and a portal straight to hell without cracking up. We failed that experiement.
Our first house there was in a neighborhood so ghetto and bizarre, it’s hard to describe, but a good example to sum it up is this: some people one block over from us kept peacocks and emu’s in their front yard. The kind of place where cats appear out of nowhere and dogs actually travel in packs. Every time I drove up to our house, which boasted a good amount of lawn garbage leftover from the previous tenants and which the landlords didn’t see a need to clean up, I would automatically start singing the theme song to Sanford & Son. Which soon became a trend amongst all our friends because that is the most fun instrumental song to sing in the history of the world. Our roommates were once asleep (since it was the middle of the night) and were awoken by a girl opening up the front screened porch door who was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear asking if they had any Valium. I’m still sad we were out of town that night so that I missed that.
For the most part though, it seems like wherever we’ve lived, our place is always on the cusp between the Good houses and the Bad ones. Which is very symbolic in my opinion. And it brings just enough in the way of sordid entertainment to keep things interesting but also a feeling of safety that lets me wander around outside on the phone at night without a care in the world. Of course I usually have the vicious teddy bear dog with me, but that’s beside the point.
And anyway, there are no guarantees no matter where you live. My sister and brother-in-law planned and chose carefully and a few years ago built their home in an upscale, very respectable Orlando neighborhood, one of those where there are rules about what kind of vehicles can (or more importantly canNOT) be in the driveway and you get a nasty letter if your yard gets too tall or part of your fence is left unpainted (they found that out when they didn’t finish painting their fence right away) and now live next door to what we can only guess are Mexican drug overlords who may or may not have rennovated their house into a meth lab, causing them to move all the furniture into the garage, where they seem to live. My sister is not pleased. Especially since they have yet to offer her any free drugs – what kind of neighbors are you, anyway?
This isn’t the area I pictured us moving back to when we came back here to live. A few towns over is Lexington, a lovely, sprawling, bucolic mid-sized town where I’ve lived before and was extremely happy there. Far enough away from the “big city,” but close enough to be able to work and play in Columbia, it is my ideal spot and top pick for favorite cities in South Carolina. However after two years here in Forest Acres (a weird town-within-a-town situation) where the residents seem to outlive the tree limbs that come crashing down around us on an almost daily basis lately, I have grown to love it here as well. I know I’m lucky whenever I can look out of my own kitchen window and love the sights I see.
And the gunshots? Well, it is deer season after all. And not too far from here there are a lot of wooded areas; it’s very possible one of them could have wandered out and into our neighborhood, looking for some adventure and is now going to provide meat for a deserving family. Right? Right.
Trippin’ October 23, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Friends, Travel, Vacation, Weather.10 comments
I’ve been annoying the shit out of myself, trying to find the time and patience to put together a picture post of last weekend’s camping extravaganza and now here it is already a week later. Time flies when you spend your spare time trying to catch up on sleep. Then I figured it’s stupid to wait on the pictures when no one is really that into them anyway and if they are there’s always Flickr. Not that I’ve gotten them up there yet either, but get off my ass, okay? I tend to forget other people aren’t quite as fascinated with Fall foliage as I am, because (A) they live where the leaves also turn, or (B) they just don’t give a crap. For me though, yes. As soon as we got to the top of that one hill on I-26 West where you can see the first of the Blue Ridge Parkway, my cold black little heart started beating a little faster and I immediately knew whatever happened over the course of the next two days, it would all be worth making this trip. Mountains do it for me.
And it’s a good thing I had that attitude, because there were a couple of challenges that were somewhat difficult to deal with. I knew it was going to be cold. I didn’t know by Saturday evening it would be so cold I’d literally be wearing EVERYTHING I PACKED. Oh yeah. At one point I started doing jumping jacks, simply because I couldn’t figure out any other way to get warm. That works, by the way. What I was mostly concerned with was sleeping, because God knows, do not get in the way of my precious sleep. And actually that worked out okay the first night – the $2 Coleman handwarmers were very effective shoved in various parts of our under-most layer of clothing – next time I’ll just know to buy more than four of them so I’ll be able to duct tape them all over myself.
No, the main problem came from the fact that at various times throughout the weekend it would get cloudy and drizzly and once I get that cold damp feeling, I find it mostly impossible to function normally. Then I made the biggest mistake ever by climbing in the van “just for a few minutes” with Joan to get warmed up. I did not climb back out of the van until the following morning, not really worring too much about my husband’s possible death-by-frostbite alone in the tent. I did check on him first thing to make sure he was breathing – I’m not that mean.
But Joan. Poor little Joan. She was already starting not to feel that great on the drive up there. By the next morning she was officially and very obviously sick. I felt horrible for her, but she remained a trooper the entire weekend – way more of a champ than I would’ve been. Turns out she now has bronchitis coupled with the flu, so yeah. I feel extremely lucky I came away from it with a stuffy nose and some congestion. She and I agreed next year should we choose to do it again (which I wouldn’t mind doing at all, it was that much fun), we will be staying in a cabin. When I told my cousin Scott about it he said, “Yeah, no kidding, Kim. I was going to warn you Jews don’t camp in tents.”
But, all in all – so much fun. The food tasted awesome like it always does in the outdoors. The food we brought, plus the best cappucino, spinach & mushroom pizza and homemade lemonade ever. The music was awesome, even with standing in the rain to hear some Cowboy Junkies. There was a tent that had nothing but Celtic music all weekend long and we couldn’t walk past it without stopping to listen. Even though our anniversary was supposed to have an aluminum or tin gift, Brian got me an awesome necklace made from recycled glass. We laughed a lot together and I realized like I always do we have a lot of fun whenever we’re someplace different, exploring and away from the daily grind. I mean, who doesn’t – but still. We don’t have a lot of opportunity to do that and I’m thankful we managed to do it for this.
The trip home was cool too – Brian napped, Joan worked on trying to remain amongst the living and Delorme and I had a great conversation in which pretty much every sentence began with, “Remember that time when…” which are always fun to have when you’ve known the other person practically twenty years. Not fun for the people who weren’t there, but luckily they’re both pretty patient about listening to old stories.
And now I’m getting ready to get ready to leave for Florida next week. Two trips in two weeks isn’t my idea of sane planning, but that’s the way it worked out this time and I’m not bitching. A little tired, but not bitching.
Overshare October 20, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Experience, Life, Lists, Youth.16 comments
We had a super-fun weekend and hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to do a picture post. My camera was being a crackhead today and decided to upload 267 pictures, most of which I thought I’d deleted off of the camera a long time ago. Silly me – hitting the “delete” icon that looks like a trashcan, answering that yes I really do want to delete the picture and watching it disappear apparently isn’t enough to really make the picture go away. Must figure out this problem somehow or else maybe throw the camera into the nearest brick wall and watch it smash into many small pieces, something I fantasized about doing this afternoon during the upload debacle. I mean, if you can’t immediately post your vacation pictures on Facebook, what good is it to actually go on vacation? It’s like it doesn’t even count or something.
Aside: While walking around the festival Saturday, I overheard a dad say to his daughter, “See, this is better than Facebook, isn’t it?” I didn’t hear her answer but it made me laugh. In my opinion real life is still better than a social networking site but maybe it wouldn’t be if I was fourteen.
I was talking to a friend today and the subject turned to sex as it oft does amongst women. (I have a theory that we female folk discuss it more than men do and in a way more raunchy manner most of the time, but maybe that’s just been my experience.) Anyhoo, we were talking about the old days, back long before we were married, when sex seemed like an all-consuming activity. I mean, the amount of energy we used to put into thinking and planning and talking about it, let alone doing it, is staggering to me now.
I’m now going to share some of the fascinating details of my sexual career – you’re welcome.
- I was ten days into being sixteen the first time I did it. Weirdly, that is the exact same age, to the day, how old a good friend of mine was too for her first time.
- I’ve been impaled by fourteen penises (penii?) in total (not all at once). That never sounded like a lot to me until just now.
- Not only do I know all the last names of the guys I’ve been intimate with, I know most of their middle names too. And knew them before Facebook and Myspace were around.
- I’ve done it with a few boys who were only one-time deals, but never had a one-night stand in the sense where I met the dude that night and we boinked, never to speak again. In fact, I’m still on friendly terms with roughly half my list. And yes, that is thanks to the internet.
- I think a lot of this has to do with the fact I grew up in a very small town. A small, uneventful, incestuous town.
- Most of my non-monogamus action happened between the ages of 19 and 21.
- I once was forced to crawl out of the bedroom window of a double-wide trailer after doing it with a guy a friend of mine liked. I was quickly caught, since I really had no plan figured out beyond that and had to turn right around and enter the place through the front door, thus letting her know we’d both spent the night there. That kind of sucked.
- I once hooked up with this HOT-ass dude, a blonde, blue-eyed player way out of my league. It was the most boring sex I’ve ever had (and I was only nineteen or twenty at the time but even back then I knew it sucked) and when my friend knocked on the door to tell me she had to go home, I made him stop in the middle of it. He was pissed, but luckily not an asshole about it like he sort of had the right to be.
- I’ve only done it with one Jew. We ate bagels and cream cheese afterwards and I’m not even making that up.
- I’ve never done anything with a girl besides kiss. It was midnight on New Year’s Eve, we were at a hotel room party and her boyfriend was drunk and being a dick and wouldn’t kiss her when the clock struck twelve. So I did. Her name was Kate.
- I’ve had sex in Florida, Alabama, New York, Virginia, and both Carolinas.
Sooooo…what’s new with you?
Roughin’ it October 13, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Foodies, Friends, Travel, Weather.8 comments
By my estimation it’s been about four years since I’ve slept in a tent. And it was that last trip that reinforced my tent-camping philosophy which basically states no camping in the state of Florida between the months of March and November unless you are in a motorhome and even then just don’t. In fact, since 95% of my camping experience has been in a motorhome, each time I’ve pitched a tent it’s been a new and educational experience. This weekend we’ll be tenting it in the mountains of North Carolina, where by all weather accounts it’s going to be fairly nipply in the daytime (mid 50’s), downright frozen-snot cold at night (low 30’s) and today I see the new development that on Sunday there’s the possibility of snow flurries.
Now, you may or may not remember, but I am a crazyhead when it comes to snow. I pray for it every year and the one or two days we actually get some, I spend most of my time outside in it taking pictures and trying to urge it to stick and pile up a little. However, I’ve never camped in it so if the ever-changing forecast is accurate I hope it does actually wait until Sunday when we’re breaking camp and getting ready to come home. I’d love to see it; I just don’t want to sleep in it. I mean, my God. I’m still Floridian enough so that when the temp drops below 70 I’m reaching for my socks and hoodie.
I’m slowly but steadily getting through my to-do list. We’re splitting the food responsibilities and my part includes dinner on Friday night (chili – spicy for the boys, wimpy for the girls), some lunch stuff, snacks and coffee. I’ve basically got most of the stuff already, but I’m making one last shopping trip tomorrow to get the rest. Here’s my question (and Joan, if you’re reading feel free to chime in since you’re going to be one of the people eating it): If you were going on a three-day camping trip, what would you enjoy eating in the great outdoors? I know whenever I’m outside for extended periods of time I like to graze a lot. And I figure as long as I cover the four basic snack rules – salt, sugar, cheese and chocolate (the Hershey bars for the S’mores don’t count), I’ll be safe.
Other little thoughts:
- I LOVE drinking coffee outside on cold mornings.
- In addition to the regular warm clothes I’m bringing, a hat, gloves and thick socks to go under my hiking boots are coming as well. As long as my head, hands and feet are warm I can pretty much withstand anything.
- I’m going to be thankful Brian turns into a human heat rock when we sleep.
- According to some of the stuff I’ve read, it looks like the leaves are already putting on a pretty good show up there. Eeep!
- This will be my third experience camping at a music/arts festival type thing and based on the past experiences, I know I’m going to love it. I can’t wait until Friday!
Ten years…and a few days October 12, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Marriage.8 comments
I really wanted to post this the other day, considering Friday was the day of our actual anniversary. Stupid work and chores - always getting in the way of the important stuff.
A decade is a long time, so I was curious to see the state of things as they were the month and year we got married – October, 1999. Some interesting stuff came up:
- Bill Clinton was just finishing up his time of getting blown in the Oval office.
- “Higher” by Creed was number one. I still love that song.
- Fight Club and Being John Malcovich were released. We saw Fight Club in the theater shortly after we got married and it blew us away with its awesomeness. Brian’s seen Malcovich and really liked it but I never have.
- Britney Spears was on the cover of the Rolling Stone, the Rolling Stone, the cover of the…dammit – now I’ll have that in my head the rest of the day.
- The Mets beat the Diamondbacks in Game 4 of what almost became a Subway Series, but then that didn’t happen until the following year. And then the Yankees beat them, dammit.
- Global Warming was still being called the “Greenhouse Effect” – hee!
- And the most important thing: Kim & Brian got married. Here is where I’d like to ask you to pretend I’ve uploaded the picture of the Holiday Inn sign where my awesome cousin had the hotel put “Kim & Brian are getting married” on the sign for us. It truly was an amazingly fun time. A couple of other random shots from the day:
That’s four-year-old Elizabeth, my flower girl, dancing with us to “Cowboy” by Kid Rock. A particularly favorite moment for me. And the top picture is one of about five thousand we took standing on his dad’s dock surrounded by our friends and family. The leaves hadn’t changed yet like I’d wanted them to and the sky was overcast that day, but everyone who was there tells me they had a pretty gol-darned good time. So did we.
So now we’re heading into our next decade as an old married couple. I can only hope the next one is as full of fun, joy, laughter and adventure as the first one was. Maybe with just a little more disposable income.
Whine & Cheese October 8, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making.12 comments
I realized something the other day. In the past year, the year we tried the hardest and failed the most spectacularly to get pregnant, I’ve known eight women, personally known mind you, who have gotten pregnant and/or had babies. That’s a riot, isn’t it?
One of them tried for two months and was successful; she’s due a week before Christmas.
One of them had been married longer than I have and they’ve tried and tried with many problems but finally this year after a minor procedure and some fertility help were able to do it. Baby Destiny is six weeks old.
One of them wasn’t even technically divorced yet from her ex-husband and had only been with her current man a few months when it happened for them. Their daughter was born a few weeks ago.
One, a very sweet co-worker. Well, it was a downright miracle they achieved pregnancy; even the doctor told them so, as her husband had some medical issues and she never ovulated regularly and the length of her ovulation was so short they’d already given up on it and had started looking into adoption possibilities. She cried with me one day in my office and told me God would see to a miracle for me just like He did for her. Baby Regan was born last week.
One, a very sweet ex co-worker. They already have three young girls and two other kids they inherited because of a family tragedy and are very young and very overwhelmed and weren’t necessarily trying, but went to Vegas one weekend and had a good enough time so that now they’re almost three months along and praying for a boy.
Two of them are cousins of Elizabeth, the kid I’m closest to in the world and part of a family who likes to start breeding young and continue breeding often. Both of them are due in a few months, I think within a few weeks of each other.
I also have a good friend who is getting married next month and becoming a stepmom to a beautiful three-year-old boy. This friend wanted to be a mother as badly as I did and spent a long time waiting for the right man whom she finally found last year and I’m so happy for her. But now she too will join the ranks of momhood, leaving me behind, kinda back here alone in the dust. The barren, stupid dust.
Okay, it’s out of my system now; just thought I’d purge it.
My Broke Brain October 3, 2009
Posted by Kimmothy in Moods, Whatever.16 comments
Things are pretty swell right now. I love this time of year and somehow that seems to spill over into all areas of my life, making me just happier in general. Which of course lends itself to that chain reaction thing that good energy seems to produce and all that.
But. There always has to be a but, right?
My last appointment with the brain doctor. I was talking to her about the fact I’m doing pretty good but for some reason the occasional panic attack has started rearing its annoying head again. She’s fine with prescribing me Xanax if I need it and I told her I’m feeling like I’d like to have it again, maybe if nothing more than a security device. If you can’t admit that to your therapist that, who can you tell, right? And her thing was, sure but what do you think is causing the anxiety. Well honey, that’s what I’m paying YOU the big bucks for – if I knew THAT, I’d pay MYSELF to talk to myself for an hour. Hey, that’s not actually a bad idea.
No lady - YOUR job is to help me figure this out. When things are fucked up, I’m stressed, but I deal with it. I’m used to it, whether it be money problems, fertility issues, dealing with my mother, dealing with work stress - whatever. I know how to exist fairly comfortably while in a minor state of panic. However when things are going WELL, oh boy, look out. That’s when I’m freaked out the most. The waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop syndrome. So in other words…I am unable to relax when I’m HAPPY, only when I’m NOT happy? That is fucked on so many levels. That is not how I want to live. And Xanax or no, I don’t think there’s a medication to fix that. It’s not exactly just simply anxiety and it’s not depression. It’s as simple as having migraines or pooping issues or erectile dysfunction. Being worried about things I can’t control or what may or may not happen in the future is I think, a category completely unto itself.
The doctor had some advice on dealing with the anxiety portion – write in a journal whenever it happens: where I am, what’s going on, what time of day it is, etc. Thinking that maybe if I record it for awhile we’ll be able to see a pattern developing and then maybe see if there’s a certain trigger for them. And pop a pill if it gets too bad. But the vague neurotic worrywart stuff? She didn’t really have much of an answer for that, except to try and re-train my brain to turn my thoughts around whenever it’s happening – that, and Tantric yoga. (Whenever I hear that word, I can’t help but think of Sting and his poor wife) (“Tantric,” not “yoga”). She knows me better than to suggest meditation – me, try to NOT have a thought in my head for an extended period of time? Ha! I’m a bad enough Jew and/or Christian; I’d make a terrible Buddhist.
My brain – it’s always been my worst enemy. I’ve known it for awhile. I know it’s why I have a little too much of a fondness for substances that take the edge off of things and make them nice and blurry and far away. Because besides sleeping, I never get a break from THINKING. The thoughts, they DO NOT STOP. And for a long time I maybe didn’t manage to stop them, but I was certainly successful with slowing them down a great deal. And man, the blessed relief that was.
Of course that caused all sorts of other problems - way, way bigger problems. Because unfortunately I found the perfect thing that clicked with me; the thing that made everything a little brighter, so much more optimistic, so much easier to deal with and temporary and artificial as it was, I took happiness in any form I could get it. I have an alcoholic for a parent, so you’d think I would’ve maybe seen the red flag and been a little more careful, but no, not me. Well, I take that back. But red flags are the easiest flags to ignore.
But those days are over. For two years now I’ve had to rely on almost nothing but my own self to deal with the Unpleasant Thoughts. And while I know I’ve made a lot of progress, I still think I have a long way to go. I used to say I wish I was dumb(er), because dumb people are always happy. They don’t know any better because they’re never burdened with any complicated thoughts and hey, lucky them. But that’s not really how I want to be either – is there anyone really who wishes they knew less? I don’t think so.
Finding happiness. Hard as hell, but a goal worth pursuing.
