I think it's funny that my idea of a sick burn is to kill 'em with kindness. Go above and beyond. Knock their socks off. I'll show you that I'm not just a government wonk. I'll call you and email you. I'll sign my email "Your Neighbor". That'll show you what a passive-aggressive, judgemental, condescending dick you are.
Or I'm rewarding you for being a passive-aggressive, judgmental, condescending dick by getting everything you want and more.
Or I'm being a hypocrite because I'm attempting to be just as passive-aggressive in return.
But it makes me feel better, so there's that.
1.06.2017
1.02.2017
Ode to my mother
For posterity, what I said at my mother's memorial in November:
Hi Everyone,
Thank you for coming today to celebrate and remember my mother, a woman full of love, laughter, and Strong. Opinions!
Ok, no one's perfect, but truthfully, when I think of my mother, I think of love: love for me, our family and friends, and the world at large. Allow me to give you some examples.
May of you know my dear friend, Christine. You may or may not know she was an exceptionally picky eater as a kid (that's right, Christine, I'm throwing you under the bus ;)). One of her foibles was that she did not like ham. So every Easter, in addition to an entire holiday meal cooked from scratch, Mama would also get a turkey breast for Christine. If you've ever been at our home for the holidays, you know that Mama went all out: beautiful linens, coordinated dishes, and a decorated home. No small feat.
I would like to note, however, that while Christine got a turkey breast, I was not allowed to dislike onions; true story! In the first grade, I told her that I didn't like onions (because all of the kids at school thought they were gross). She told me, in no uncertain terms, that I had been eating and enjoying onions my entire six-year-old life, and I wasn't about to stop now! This seemed cruel at the time, but in truth it was as much love as Christine's turkey breast. She raised me to be an adventurous and flexible eater, always welcome at friends homes for sleepovers and comfortable on school trips because I ate whatever was put in front of me. And it worked, mostly. But, I'll tell you a secret; I still don't like onions on my pizza.
My mother has a shoe box overflowing with note cards for all occasions. Beautiful cards, seasonal cards, silly cards. She was a writer and a reader, and had a great love for the written word. One of the ways she expressed Love for those around her was to send things by mail: cards, letters, advent calendars for the kids. And what's more, she treasured the cards she received and kept them in the panes of glass in her kitchen cabinet, where she could see them everyday. To receive a card from her was to receive love from her, an exceedingly rare thing in a digital age.
Many people show disdain for Barbie dolls, but my mother loved them. An expert sewer, my mother honed her skills by sewing Barbie clothes as a child. She loved all the different roles Barbie could be: Pilot, Rock star, Astronaut, you name it. But she especially celebrated the increasing diversity of Barbies available. If Barbies reflected our standards of beauty, my mother went out of her way to seek out Barbies that weren't blonde-haired and blue-eyed. In fact, my ken doll was black. I had the United Nations of Barbies, with beautiful, colorful outfits to match.
My mother loved dolls, and I had lots. In fact, I have been told I was spoiled because I had two American Girl dolls. And maybe I was, but I'll also tell you this: I probably would have only had one if it weren't for the Addy doll. My first American Girl doll was Felicity. She had red hair, and pale skin, and reflected the history of my own family living here since the revolution. By contrast, my Addy doll had beautiful black skin and wiry hair. My mother saw dolls as a tool to send a message, not just to me, but to the toy companies and those around me, that these dolls were valuable, important and loved, just like the people they represent.
Just before my mother passed, she had ordered several CDs on various topics from our church's reading room, a kind of bookstore. They arrived a few days after she passed. One of them was on parenting. I'm 32 years old, and to the very day she passed, my mother was still trying to improve as a parent. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.
It always seems like there is a lack of love in the world, but my mother taught me that love is ever present. In our church , Love is one of he seven synonyms for God, and it was her favorite one. Love is always needed, and can always be expressed to everyone around us. It is not diminished by sharing; it is enhanced.
We love you, Mama, and we thank you for your example of how to Love.
Hi Everyone,
Thank you for coming today to celebrate and remember my mother, a woman full of love, laughter, and Strong. Opinions!
Ok, no one's perfect, but truthfully, when I think of my mother, I think of love: love for me, our family and friends, and the world at large. Allow me to give you some examples.
May of you know my dear friend, Christine. You may or may not know she was an exceptionally picky eater as a kid (that's right, Christine, I'm throwing you under the bus ;)). One of her foibles was that she did not like ham. So every Easter, in addition to an entire holiday meal cooked from scratch, Mama would also get a turkey breast for Christine. If you've ever been at our home for the holidays, you know that Mama went all out: beautiful linens, coordinated dishes, and a decorated home. No small feat.
I would like to note, however, that while Christine got a turkey breast, I was not allowed to dislike onions; true story! In the first grade, I told her that I didn't like onions (because all of the kids at school thought they were gross). She told me, in no uncertain terms, that I had been eating and enjoying onions my entire six-year-old life, and I wasn't about to stop now! This seemed cruel at the time, but in truth it was as much love as Christine's turkey breast. She raised me to be an adventurous and flexible eater, always welcome at friends homes for sleepovers and comfortable on school trips because I ate whatever was put in front of me. And it worked, mostly. But, I'll tell you a secret; I still don't like onions on my pizza.
My mother has a shoe box overflowing with note cards for all occasions. Beautiful cards, seasonal cards, silly cards. She was a writer and a reader, and had a great love for the written word. One of the ways she expressed Love for those around her was to send things by mail: cards, letters, advent calendars for the kids. And what's more, she treasured the cards she received and kept them in the panes of glass in her kitchen cabinet, where she could see them everyday. To receive a card from her was to receive love from her, an exceedingly rare thing in a digital age.
Many people show disdain for Barbie dolls, but my mother loved them. An expert sewer, my mother honed her skills by sewing Barbie clothes as a child. She loved all the different roles Barbie could be: Pilot, Rock star, Astronaut, you name it. But she especially celebrated the increasing diversity of Barbies available. If Barbies reflected our standards of beauty, my mother went out of her way to seek out Barbies that weren't blonde-haired and blue-eyed. In fact, my ken doll was black. I had the United Nations of Barbies, with beautiful, colorful outfits to match.
My mother loved dolls, and I had lots. In fact, I have been told I was spoiled because I had two American Girl dolls. And maybe I was, but I'll also tell you this: I probably would have only had one if it weren't for the Addy doll. My first American Girl doll was Felicity. She had red hair, and pale skin, and reflected the history of my own family living here since the revolution. By contrast, my Addy doll had beautiful black skin and wiry hair. My mother saw dolls as a tool to send a message, not just to me, but to the toy companies and those around me, that these dolls were valuable, important and loved, just like the people they represent.
Just before my mother passed, she had ordered several CDs on various topics from our church's reading room, a kind of bookstore. They arrived a few days after she passed. One of them was on parenting. I'm 32 years old, and to the very day she passed, my mother was still trying to improve as a parent. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.
It always seems like there is a lack of love in the world, but my mother taught me that love is ever present. In our church , Love is one of he seven synonyms for God, and it was her favorite one. Love is always needed, and can always be expressed to everyone around us. It is not diminished by sharing; it is enhanced.
We love you, Mama, and we thank you for your example of how to Love.
1.01.2017
My 2017 word of the year
Love. In fact, I began my year of Love (I loke to capitalize mine so as not to limit it to romantic love) roughly two months ago. My mother's legacy was Love. And so much of what we're seeing int the world shows us that so many are feeling unLoved. And, since I'm an avid Gretchen Rubin fan, I was made aware of this idea to pick a one-word theme a few weeks ago, which clinched the idea.
To clarify, here is a brief, incomplete list of all the ways we can express Love: holding the door open for someone, donating time or money to a cause special to you or someone else, engaging with a child, complimenting a stranger, having a hard conversation, checking in with what you yourself need, writing a letter, asking how you can help (and following through), cooking a meal, standing up for someone, tidying up a space, forgiving someone unconditionally, sharing a forgotten memory, writing in a journal, sharing a smile, etc.
Pick one. Pick ten. Do something Loving today.
#365daysofLove
12.16.2016
Yuletide brain dump
For most of the western civilization, this is a hectic time of year. It is also a fraught time of year when you have recently lost someone close to you. So allow me to hereby present a ramble of things on my mind these days;
My aunt just canceled our the Xmas get together on my dad's side of the family due to adverse weather conditions. I believe the straw that broke the camel's back was when my uncle, her brother said he was fine with coming over in the snow/wind/sub-zero temps, but he hadn't gotten his shopping done, so he wouldn't be upset if we delayed. We do a yankee-swap, so he only has to buy one gift. He can go to fucking Walgreens and have his pick of $25 gift cards. And my hand to God, if we delayed until next November, he still wouldn't be ready. Because he doesn't operate in advance, he does it when he's under the gun. Now that's all fine and good, but don't commingle your best-operating procedure with someone else's fear of the weather. They are not the same.
Roughly 12-18 months ago, I somehow ran afoul of my co-worker. Her shit list is long, and everyone has been on it at one point or another. However, I somehow managed to extricate myself from it, and worked doubly hard to avoid being on it again. We'll, somehow, I am. I had only a vague idea why I was on it the first time, and since I've been extra cautious and extra careful ever since, I have no earthly clue what perceived slight I managed this time. Two parts of this particularly bother me: one was this morning int he break room when she managed to return my hello, but refused to answer my "how are you" for the second time this week, but then went on to ask in-depth questions of my co-worker, standing next to me, about her new job promotion. A promotion she hadn't even known about until I mentioned it 5 seconds previously. The other is that a few months ago, I came to her in a rush worried something I said was misconstrued and that I may have offended her. she says, oh don't' worry, if I'm offended, I'll tell you. Well, unless ignoring and non-response is "telling", that's a big fucking lie. I don't know whether I should make the effort, or just let this one go. I know this time I didn't do anything wrong, and I"m tired of being terrified of her. I'm sorry she's so unhappy.
My cousin still hasn't sent me his Xmas list. I just want to know what gc at Walgreens I should buy. Maybe I should just give him a gc to Walgreens so he can trade it in for another gc.
I wish I had my mom to talk to about all these things. The holidays aren't the same without her.
I keep buying gifts, and then forgetting what gifts I still have left to buy, thus buying more gifts. Not good for my checkbook.
12.06.2016
Who is this strange man?
It’s my paternal grandfather’s birthday today. I just got an email from my dad; he went out
to Ft. Snelling by himself today to
see the grave.
Who is this grave-visiting, church-attending, mild-mannered
man who looks like my father?
party notes
I made:
three-packages of wings (had roughly 1-1.5 packages left at end of night) (DON"T BUY WINGS NOT ALREADY PREPPED / NEED CUTTING! TOO MUCH WORK FOR DAY OF!)
-2/3 size coeur de creme (had at least half left. I bought Major Grey's chutney by Stonewall, but I like TJ's better
-Mushroop app - I think I ate most of it, but roughly half was left
- Veggies and dip - I had three kinds of veggies, and almost all of it was left behind. Definitely cut back significantly
- Chef John's baked brie with cranberries and pecans (because I didn't have walnuts). I thought it was tasty, and would do again. Not sure anyone else cared/noticed
-Clementines; lots left, but no worries
-Ginger creams, by Christine's request, although I don't think anyone else ate them.
-Punch (2L Gingerale, half gallon of cider, and half a bottle of rose's lime, plus a cranberry ice ring)
-Feta stuffed olives (
Other peopel brought:
a pesto, pepper jelly, almond cheeseball (emily)
Cool Ranch Doritoes and Cookie Cart Cookies (christine)
Cookies (Natanya)
Brownie bites (shelley and joe)
Lindt truffles (amanda and rich)
Chips and salsa (S&L)
Some spreaders would be nice.
three-packages of wings (had roughly 1-1.5 packages left at end of night) (DON"T BUY WINGS NOT ALREADY PREPPED / NEED CUTTING! TOO MUCH WORK FOR DAY OF!)
-2/3 size coeur de creme (had at least half left. I bought Major Grey's chutney by Stonewall, but I like TJ's better
-Mushroop app - I think I ate most of it, but roughly half was left
- Veggies and dip - I had three kinds of veggies, and almost all of it was left behind. Definitely cut back significantly
- Chef John's baked brie with cranberries and pecans (because I didn't have walnuts). I thought it was tasty, and would do again. Not sure anyone else cared/noticed
-Clementines; lots left, but no worries
-Ginger creams, by Christine's request, although I don't think anyone else ate them.
-Punch (2L Gingerale, half gallon of cider, and half a bottle of rose's lime, plus a cranberry ice ring)
-Feta stuffed olives (
Other peopel brought:
a pesto, pepper jelly, almond cheeseball (emily)
Cool Ranch Doritoes and Cookie Cart Cookies (christine)
Cookies (Natanya)
Brownie bites (shelley and joe)
Lindt truffles (amanda and rich)
Chips and salsa (S&L)
Some spreaders would be nice.
12.05.2016
A hangover of sorts
I had my annual holiday party on Saturday. I was up late on Friday, up early on Saturday getting ready. I went all day with hardly a break, and almost fell asleep on the couch after everyone left Saturday night. I slept in late Sunday morning, went to yoga, saw a movie, then came home and took a nap. I couldn't shake the tireds all day, and pushed myself to stay up until 11p.
And yet, I lay in bed for three fucking hours and could not fall asleep.
Now I've called into work, and am struggling with the blues. Everyone is annoying, and nobody cares. What the fuck is happening to me?
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