Today is my brother's 45th birthday. I know what you're thinking - heck, you don't look old enough to have a brother that old!
You are correct. I do not look that old.
My brother has always been such an awesome force in my life. He pretty much was my father figure - he fixed my boo-boos, he let me sleep with him when I was little and had nightmares, he listened to me and read me endless stories. He also gave me my love of Rush and a passing appreciation for The Lord of the Rings trilogy. (To be accurate, I've only ever read - ok, skimmed, Bored of the Rings.)
I'm glad to have such a great man in my life. He's accomplished so much. You know what? I already wrote a love letter to my brother last year, and I can't top it. So just check it out already.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Hell Yeah, I've Got A Case Of The Mondays
Occasionally I get the dumbest questions I could possibly imagine. To wit:
Customer: So you'll pull my credit report?
Me: Yes. You need to have a least a score of XXX to qualify. We'll look at all three scores from the three credit reporting agencies.
Customer: You'll use the highest score, right?
Me: No, we use the middle score.
Customer: Which one is that?
Me: ...
Me: The middle score is the one we'll use.
Customer: Well, what will be it?
Me: Are you asking me what your middle score will be?
Customer: Yes, exactly! What's my middle score?
Folks, it took everything I had not to say, when answering "Which one is that?", "The one in the middle."
And it's taking even more not to submit this to Not Always Right.
Customer: So you'll pull my credit report?
Me: Yes. You need to have a least a score of XXX to qualify. We'll look at all three scores from the three credit reporting agencies.
Customer: You'll use the highest score, right?
Me: No, we use the middle score.
Customer: Which one is that?
Me: ...
Me: The middle score is the one we'll use.
Customer: Well, what will be it?
Me: Are you asking me what your middle score will be?
Customer: Yes, exactly! What's my middle score?
Folks, it took everything I had not to say, when answering "Which one is that?", "The one in the middle."
And it's taking even more not to submit this to Not Always Right.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
She's Simply Stunning.
These past couple of days that I've been able to enjoy with Lucy have amazed me. Taken me completely aback. I didn't know I could fall in love so fast.
I mean, really. Look at this creature:
She's stunning. She makes precious baby noises. She curls into me when she's ready for a deep sleep, so I wrap her closer into my body. When she's napping, she does poses while on my lap.
Today we had a long chat about how she'll never make the mistakes I've made, because she won't ever know that love is conditional with some people.
I could cuddle this little girl forever. And, as her parents know, quite possibly devour her.
Best part of tonight: Her dad came back and checked all of her digits to make sure they were still intact. I've been threatening to eat her for days now.
I mean, really. Look at this creature:
She's stunning. She makes precious baby noises. She curls into me when she's ready for a deep sleep, so I wrap her closer into my body. When she's napping, she does poses while on my lap.
Today we had a long chat about how she'll never make the mistakes I've made, because she won't ever know that love is conditional with some people.
I could cuddle this little girl forever. And, as her parents know, quite possibly devour her.
Best part of tonight: Her dad came back and checked all of her digits to make sure they were still intact. I've been threatening to eat her for days now.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
An Open Letter To Lucy
Welcome to the world, little girl! I hope you won't mind that I intend to call you LucyBug. Probably forever, or until you're old enough to threaten me if I do it again.
I cannot think of a child that was more wanted. Lucy, your wonderful parents love you beyond any sense of language. There are not the words for the admiration, joy, inspiration, and love that you generate at a mere glance. You are already an amazing person, and with each tiny new thing that you learn, you will become even more extraordinary to all who get the privilege of knowing you.
I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here. I love you and I've not yet met you (see you tomorrow night!). You've given me a sense of wonder that I've not felt for a while. Something tells me that you'll continue to inspire me.
Lucy, this world is an imperfect place. Luckily, you've got safe haven with your parents. I know beyond knowing that were they able, they would stop time and move heaven and earth to protect you. You will occasionally drive them mad. They will still love you. You will sometimes make them laugh. They will still love you. As they learn your personality and help you navigate the world, your parents will always know awe-inspiring happiness in taking care of you.
Make no mistake, though, LucyBug. You will fall down. You will get hurt, both physically and emotionally. But you'll also have the softest of landings. When you're little, you will cry and your parents won't know why. But trust them, because they put you above everything else they have in their lives. And nothing you could ever do will change that.
Be brave. Be kind. Be honest. Be loving. Sometimes wear your heart on your sleeve. Insist that people treat you with the respect and integrity that you deserve. Know that there are people all around you who love you, simply because you're you. Please know that being exactly who you are is more than enough.
(And if you call me Kisstine, you will own my heart forever. If you don't, well, you'll still have a life estate in it.)
Welcome.
I cannot think of a child that was more wanted. Lucy, your wonderful parents love you beyond any sense of language. There are not the words for the admiration, joy, inspiration, and love that you generate at a mere glance. You are already an amazing person, and with each tiny new thing that you learn, you will become even more extraordinary to all who get the privilege of knowing you.
I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here. I love you and I've not yet met you (see you tomorrow night!). You've given me a sense of wonder that I've not felt for a while. Something tells me that you'll continue to inspire me.
Lucy, this world is an imperfect place. Luckily, you've got safe haven with your parents. I know beyond knowing that were they able, they would stop time and move heaven and earth to protect you. You will occasionally drive them mad. They will still love you. You will sometimes make them laugh. They will still love you. As they learn your personality and help you navigate the world, your parents will always know awe-inspiring happiness in taking care of you.
Make no mistake, though, LucyBug. You will fall down. You will get hurt, both physically and emotionally. But you'll also have the softest of landings. When you're little, you will cry and your parents won't know why. But trust them, because they put you above everything else they have in their lives. And nothing you could ever do will change that.
Be brave. Be kind. Be honest. Be loving. Sometimes wear your heart on your sleeve. Insist that people treat you with the respect and integrity that you deserve. Know that there are people all around you who love you, simply because you're you. Please know that being exactly who you are is more than enough.
(And if you call me Kisstine, you will own my heart forever. If you don't, well, you'll still have a life estate in it.)
Welcome.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
The Social Contract of Driving
On my way home tonight, I noticed that the traffic slowed much earlier along my trek than usual. My first thought was that I'd left earlier than usual so there were more cars on the road. Nope, it was 5:16, which is about normal for me. Finally, I could see that there was a wreck in one of the main lanes. As I approached, I saw another car behind the accident, blinker on, trying to get around the mess. Folks, do you think anyone let this lady in?
No. Of course not. They're all in such a damn rush to get home that they forgot the rules of the road. So I let her in, and I was saddened to see that it took her a minute to realize that I was going to stop and allow her to merge. She was suprised that someone would let a minute of her precious life go by so another person could rejoin the moving traffic.
This is ridiculous. We all have to share the road, and there's an absolute social contract to driving. We all know the basic rules: Stay in your lane, signal your turns, for the love of Pete, don't drive drunk...but you know there are many more subtle rules. You're supposed to pay attention. You're supposed to know that we're all in this gridlocked nightmare together. You're supposed to take turns.
So now, when someone breaks these rules, I yell out the window, "You broke the contract!"
No. Of course not. They're all in such a damn rush to get home that they forgot the rules of the road. So I let her in, and I was saddened to see that it took her a minute to realize that I was going to stop and allow her to merge. She was suprised that someone would let a minute of her precious life go by so another person could rejoin the moving traffic.
This is ridiculous. We all have to share the road, and there's an absolute social contract to driving. We all know the basic rules: Stay in your lane, signal your turns, for the love of Pete, don't drive drunk...but you know there are many more subtle rules. You're supposed to pay attention. You're supposed to know that we're all in this gridlocked nightmare together. You're supposed to take turns.
So now, when someone breaks these rules, I yell out the window, "You broke the contract!"
Monday, September 28, 2009
Pretty!
I found this on Discombobulated. Enjoy!
Sonnet 17 by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I do not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Sonnet 17 by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I do not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Words Of Wisdom
I was reading Cary Tennis' archives on Salon, and these are my favorite bits. I didn't save the exact pages from which I got these quotes, but that's OK. It's just a sampling...
<- The fact that you are a little crazy doesn't mean you have no rights.
Who is it who decides that our wishes are ridiculous or not ridiculous, anyway?
Our wishes, after all, are very close to feelings. Like feelings, they are not always rational. But they deserve respect.
<- Our churches have become the propaganda wings of political parties.
<- Why not simply accept that death will come to us all, and let it come when it comes? Why not recognize death as the one merciful thing that will bring us finally together. Why not see death as the final antidote to our crippling feeling of insufficiency. Finally, if we feel we have not been good enough for anything in life, at least we are good enough to die. At least death will embrace us as it embraces your mother and my uncle and my father-in-law and every other soul who has ever lived and ever will live.
<-You love each other and love is part madness. You love each other and are caught up in a mad dance of veils. Behind the veils that she waves in the air are her secrets, and thus her secret stories, and thus her sacred story, the one she cannot tell for fear it will lose its power of enchantment.
I suggest we more fully embrace the eros of interaction and the sweet honey of need.
I am trying to signal that at root love is madness; it is a contract not between people but between souls. It is different from your marriage. Your marriage is a contract between two people. But your love is a contract between two souls. Love is crazy because the souls want what they want and you don't have much to say about it.
Apparently in the marriage contract there is a clause in invisible ink that says we must sever all our ties and mute all our needs and close all the windows and become what we are not in order to protect the inviolable envelope of the marriage contract. But that is not always practical. There will be violations because we are who we are.
Many of us need more attention to feel more alive. Some of us need to stand in the spotlight and hear the applause. Some of us need a kind of intimacy we can only find outside the house. There is nothing wrong with wanting a fuller social life. There is nothing wrong with needing to be in the spotlight. There are ways to get that honestly. There are ways to get that by forming open friendships, and by performing, and in the fantasy realm.
What I say, at the risk of sounding like an idiot, is that love is naturally the realm of madness. You, your wife and I are all stark raving mad. Begin in madness. Accept everything. Trudge slowly under your great burdens toward some kind of rationality if you must. But accept that you may never get there. You may be perpetually trudging through madness toward some illusory land of Apollo. That's the way it is.
We are all mostly crazy. It's that simple.
<- It takes courage and strength not to repeat, because repetition feels like repair.
<- Opportunistic religiosity. People who revere authority will often turn to God, but if there is no God present, the doctor might do just fine.
"Opportunistic religiosity." Yeah, I need to give that one a think. Might make a good post.
<- The fact that you are a little crazy doesn't mean you have no rights.
Who is it who decides that our wishes are ridiculous or not ridiculous, anyway?
Our wishes, after all, are very close to feelings. Like feelings, they are not always rational. But they deserve respect.
<- Our churches have become the propaganda wings of political parties.
<- Why not simply accept that death will come to us all, and let it come when it comes? Why not recognize death as the one merciful thing that will bring us finally together. Why not see death as the final antidote to our crippling feeling of insufficiency. Finally, if we feel we have not been good enough for anything in life, at least we are good enough to die. At least death will embrace us as it embraces your mother and my uncle and my father-in-law and every other soul who has ever lived and ever will live.
<-You love each other and love is part madness. You love each other and are caught up in a mad dance of veils. Behind the veils that she waves in the air are her secrets, and thus her secret stories, and thus her sacred story, the one she cannot tell for fear it will lose its power of enchantment.
I suggest we more fully embrace the eros of interaction and the sweet honey of need.
I am trying to signal that at root love is madness; it is a contract not between people but between souls. It is different from your marriage. Your marriage is a contract between two people. But your love is a contract between two souls. Love is crazy because the souls want what they want and you don't have much to say about it.
Apparently in the marriage contract there is a clause in invisible ink that says we must sever all our ties and mute all our needs and close all the windows and become what we are not in order to protect the inviolable envelope of the marriage contract. But that is not always practical. There will be violations because we are who we are.
Many of us need more attention to feel more alive. Some of us need to stand in the spotlight and hear the applause. Some of us need a kind of intimacy we can only find outside the house. There is nothing wrong with wanting a fuller social life. There is nothing wrong with needing to be in the spotlight. There are ways to get that honestly. There are ways to get that by forming open friendships, and by performing, and in the fantasy realm.
What I say, at the risk of sounding like an idiot, is that love is naturally the realm of madness. You, your wife and I are all stark raving mad. Begin in madness. Accept everything. Trudge slowly under your great burdens toward some kind of rationality if you must. But accept that you may never get there. You may be perpetually trudging through madness toward some illusory land of Apollo. That's the way it is.
We are all mostly crazy. It's that simple.
<- It takes courage and strength not to repeat, because repetition feels like repair.
<- Opportunistic religiosity. People who revere authority will often turn to God, but if there is no God present, the doctor might do just fine.
"Opportunistic religiosity." Yeah, I need to give that one a think. Might make a good post.
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