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Not Pithy. Just Thankful.

24 Nov

For once, I’m not going to be snarky or pithy, because Thanksgiving deserves respect. Besides, there’s a whole 48 hours of family-ness ahead of us which should provide fodder for some pithy posts. So instead, this morning I’ll just share a self-indulgent list of things I’m thankful for:

My family. I count myself as lucky every day to still have two living parents who are unconditionally supportive of my somewhat unconventional life. (Not that I live at a nudist colony or travel with a carnival or anything. I just don’t see the point of marriage and kids, so I love that they don’t guilt me about that.)

And my sister and I have become closer with age than experts would’ve thought possible when we were children, given our (almost) six year age difference. In fact, she’s the only person I know who can take a joke even farther than I can in the direction of random or perverse. Oh, and her family is fantastic too.

Proof? Here are two nuggets of wisdom from my youngest nephew, James, who is nine:

“Dad, never, ever criticize a woman’s hair. Her hair is her LIFE.”

“When I get older, I’ll use Just for Men. Until I’m 50. Then I’ll stop. Because it looks weird if your face is wrinkled and your hair isn’t gray.” 

Take THOSE to the bank. (Separately, his obsession with hair is both funny and ironic, since no one in our family has “pretty” hair or actually gives two shits about it. If ever he thinks he’s adopted (he’s not), I’m sure this would be central to his argument that he’s not from our gene pool.)

Reconnecting with Old Friends. Hello! Without this one, Alan wouldn’t be in my life today. And I’m grateful that our paths crossed twice, because he’s a good yin to my yang. For all the reasons I love him, perhaps one of the most telling is that we often pass an evening with nothing more than a bottle of wine and a cribbage board. OK. So maybe Alan deserves a category of his own: I’m thankful for him.

Now back to reconnecting… Whether it’s in person or via Facebook, I feel lucky to still be in touch with people who were a central part of my life at other stages. Whether it’s childhood friends, college roommates or past colleagues (and I use that word loosely when I refer to my friends from Tripper’s Sports Bar!) – I’m thankful to have not lost track of you. And I’m grateful that old friends can just pick up where things left off, no matter how many years have passed.

My friends. You’re awesome and you know who you are. Enough said. Thanks, too, for letting me write about you on my blog without getting offended or sending me a notice about your privacy rights. That makes you double-awesome, which is kind of like a double rainbow, but without the stoned dude providing commentary. Seriously? I have the best friends in the world. Kisses to you all.

My health. So it’s been a weird year health-wise (car accident, inflatable calf, Bakers Cysts, migraines, hives) but  those are the natural product of (gasp!) aging. I’ll take that. It beats the alternative. And it reminds me of my friends who have not been as lucky, but who have taught me about grace in their response to the cards they have been dealt. Thank YOU.

My freedom. You know that song from Annie Get Your Gun, that goes “Anything you can do, I can do better?” Well, that tends to be my motto. I’m thankful I live in a time and place that it CAN be my motto – that I’m not held back by a society that doesn’t allow a woman to do what she’s capable of. And that I can leave my house every day without having to duck bullets (unless I turn the wrong way on U Street!).

My job. Not only is it great to be employed, but I get to train and develop people so they’re better at their jobs. How rewarding is THAT? And I love the people I work with. They’re some of the smartest, funniest, most dedicated people a person could call colleagues. Even better? I get to call a lot of them friends.

The little things. Here’s a list of the random things that I’m thankful for: bathtubs, public libraries, food, fleece/flannel, books, technology, tampons, pillows, NPR, animals, candles, sunny days, snowstorms, fireplaces, exterminators, good wine, bacon, Advil and Dupont Circle.

My readers. Thank YOU for showing up here and reading. Even without an audience, I’d write. But having you here, providing feedback (even if it’s just in the form of a page view and not a comment) makes it rewarding. And when you DO comment? Completely makes my day. Someone recently told me her mom reads my blog, and that – even though she knows my real name – she refers to me as Pithy. So thanks, everyone, for indulging me.

Have a great Thanksgiving! 

A Non-Pithy Post: Welcome to the World, Natalie!

28 Oct

Dear Natalie Ellen,

I learned via a text message from your mother that you arrived in the world this afternoon. From your mom’s perspective – it was not a moment too soon. She’s been ranting for the better part of a week that she was ready to have you.

In fact, just yesterday she publicly stated that she was going to “plead her case” to the doctor. I, on the other hand, have been hoping you’d take your sweet time and come on Devil’s Night so I could pass the cool birthday baton to you. For your sake, I’m glad you arrived today!

But enough about your entry into the world – I’m sure your mom will never let you forget it, so I’ll leave that to her.

I want to tell you about the family you’re joining. Your mother is my oldest friend – we’ve known each other even before we started nursery school together – so I think I can paint a fair picture.

First, be prepared to be photographed. A LOT. Your mom comes by it honestly and can’t help herself. When you get irritated by it, ask if you can watch one of the old VHS tapes of her playing softball, swimming or at a dance recital – and then you’ll realize it could be much worse. And if she EVER tries to make you take piano lessons, ask her to play something for you first. I assure you: that will end the conversation.

Second, let me tell you now: You WILL be a Spartan fan. Some of your favorite childhood memories will be of tailgating with your parents in East Lansing and hanging with the children of your mom’s college roommates. You will learn from an early age how to “Sparty On!” and you’ll be able to sing the fight song before you enter kindergarten.

Her text from the hospital said, “We’re all doing fine. I’ll be home for the big game Saturday!” (For the record, MSU is currently ranked 5th in the nation and is 8-0 thus far this season. You’ll appreciate that when you’re older.)

As for your grandparents on the Dickinson side… they were like second parents to me for much of my childhood. They took me on my first trip to Cedar Point in second grade – when I was still too short and skinny to technically ride the Gemini. Your grandpa rode that ride with me and held me in the seat the entire ride. That’s the kind of guy he is – he likes a good time and wants the people around him to have a good time too. (Oh, and there’s the time when I completely ruined the cream colored upholstery in his new Oldsmobile Cutlass – because I’d gotten grease all over my ass at a McDonald’s – and he didn’t even raise his voice when he saw the damage.) That one is a very cool cat.

And your grandma – who doesn’t like to be called Grandma because she’s entirely too young for that – is one of the craftiest people I know. Had it not been for her sewing skills, I would’ve been fated to dress as a ghost every year for Halloween because my mom couldn’t sew. Instead, I always got to wear your mom’s costume from the year before – a dog, a dinosaur, a witch, a clown, a tea bag… (I know, that last one doesn’t quite, fit, does it?) She also taught me to cross-stitch and how to make a “Triscuit pizza” in the first microwave I ever laid eyes on.

As for your dad… make him your ally. Your mom is a pretty tough customer, but your dad has mastered the art of giving her what she wants and getting what he needs. That’s a subtle art, and you will undoubtedly need to call on it – especially when you’re in high school and hate your curfew. (If he sometimes embarrasses you because we owns binoculars and goes birding, let me tell you: you will one day find that AWESOME, so go with it.)

Your brother? Well, I’m sure initially he’s not going to be your biggest fan because you’re new to the scene and stealing his thunder. BUT, about the time you hit middle school and kids are jerks, you’re going to be VERY glad to have Nolan hovering around ready to kick some asses. Oh – and when he’s 21 and you’re not yet legal – you’re REALLY going to appreciate him.

There are so many stories to tell; I could write for hours. But you have years to hear the other stories, and trust me – the older you get, the better the stories we’ll tell you. One day you’ll fully appreciate what it is to be the granddaughter of a BOM. Just wait for it.

In the meantime, just know that you couldn’t be luckier. The world welcomes you and I can’t wait to meet you.

Love,

“Auntie” Alison

PS~ It is a LOCK that your mom is drinking a Miller Lite tonight to celebrate, if I know her.

If you’re already going to hell, might as well drive the bus.

18 Aug

Now that my place is almost pulled together, I’ve started thinking of hosting a couple housewarming soirees. Not one big party, because it’s kind of awkward to combine five different friend grounds in 1,000 square feet of space. (And that’s assuming people are using the bathroom to socialize.)

Don’t get me wrong – when I was younger, I used to have a “more the merrier” outlook, and I loved combining my friends for events. As we’ve gotten older, however, I’ve realized that people are kind of set in their ways and usually only talk about a) their jobs, b) their kids, or c) their common acquaintances. So it makes it awkward to combine multiple social circles in a space that doesn’t have enough separate seating areas to house them all. Alas, the separate shindigs.

Anyway… this morning I pulled together the list for a reunion of friends who all know each other from our days at e-staff, and headed to evite to craft an invitation for a “pick the paint” party. (Since it’s by far my most creative and gayest circle of friends, I figured it would be my best shot at getting some diverse opinions on what colors to paint my walls.)

And yet, for whatever reason, I could not stop choosing religious themed Evite designs. Specifically, this is the one I was drawn to:

I kept getting the giggles, thinking how random it would be for my friends to receive an invite to a housewarming party in which I suggest that we might pray on which colors would work with my furniture.

(more…)

Observation: Mad Men

28 Jul

BEFORE: Hot John Hamm aka Donald Draper, whom I would call Boss.

Is it just me, or did John Hamm’s face jump the shark between seasons? He looks like an alien now, as opposed to my fantasy boss. That’s all I’m saying.

Rules: If you are in front of me in a line…

12 May

If you’re in line to pay for something:

  • Organize your items on the conveyor belt so that people behind you with heavy baskets can set their stuff down too.
  • Don’t judge my purchases. I’m not laughing at you for your ExLax, so don’t look repulsed by my assortment of TGIFriday frozen foods.
  • If you’re browsing a magazine, you still need to keep one eye trained on the line and move appropriately. (Don’t make me nudge you.)
  • How about finding your wallet BEFORE you get to the register. And even better, have your credit card out.
  • For the love of small puppies and all things holy, don’t even think about writing a check. Who even uses those any more?
  • If you want to dispute a price, the difference better exceed 20 cents. Otherwise, I’ll give you a quarter and we’ll call it a day.
  • If your can has a dent in it, tough shit. You should’ve noticed that when you took it off the shelf. Not now, when there’s a line of people behind you.
  • Please don’t act as if you’ve never used a pinpad to complete a transaction. You should know where the debit/credit button is and how to slide your card. If you don’t, you should only function in a cash-based world or order from Peapod.

If you’re in line to use the bathroom:

  • First off, you must be a woman. I’ve never seen a man in a line for this.
  • If you ARE a man in line for a bathroom – go outside. It’s faster and we women need your bathroom.
  • Be alert. When a stall opens, make a break for it, or I will.
  • This isn’t a time to be fickle. If you don’t like the looks of your stall, don’t stand there contemplating it and praying for another one to open. If you do, I will shove you out of the way and use it. You’re squatting anyway, so unless there is a turd sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser, I think you’re good.
  • I’d actually appreciate it if everyone in line started unzipping, unbuckling and unsnapping while still in line. We could speed this whole thing up if everyone did a bit of public prep work.

What do you think? Am I way off base here?

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