Saturday, June 27, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Eight years ago today I was busy doing this.
I laughed the whole way down the aisle.
Then they let us kiss in public. I don't remember much of this part. Except for a crane flying over the lake. I was trying not to pass out.
Then we kissed so much we upset the birds. Have I told you I don't like birds?
Then someone gave us cake to eat. It was really damn good. Even a year later it was good.
My dad got jiggy with it.
As did your mother.
At the end of the night we were still dancing when everyone else was leaving. Still smiling. So totally in love. Unaware of the drunk couple making out behind us.
I am still totally in love with you. There is no person on this Earth I would rather take this journey with. Happy Anniversary. I miss you.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
I am not a practical person. I do not like logical things. Things that are logical confuse me and I do not like to feel confused or stupid, so I just tend to ignore such things, like math. And yet I still am the one who is the bill payer in the family. AHEM! There are no bounced checks, we don't run out of money so I figure all is well. Anything past that in the finance department and sorry, but no can do. This impracticality annoys me at times. Why can't I just like one thing, get another degree, and work and be happy. Why am I such a dreamer? Why did I change my major at least five times in college? I work hard at things don't get me wrong, perhaps I have problems with commitment. Or am easily attracted to shiny objects.
The husband bought me a couple of books for Mother's Day, one was Dooce's book which was like reading about myself and the other was 10-10-10 by Suzy Welch. This book is about decision making in life, or more aptly how to make good decisions with your life. There is a method called 10-10-10, in which you basically map out your decision based on how you think it will affect you in 10 minutes, 10 months, and 10 years. Or at least that is what the first four chapters talk about. I am having a hard time reading it. Too much logic involved. So I picked up Eat Pray Love instead and it is much more me. So very beautiful, or at least her time in Italy is. I love this book, I want to marry it. It is so pretty and wonderful. Now granted the poor women was pretty depressed at the beginning and rightfully so but then ah Dios mio the Italian food and descriptions. This book got me to thinking about doing things that I want to do, RIGHT NOW! And, more importantly, how to make them happen. I really have begun to think about who I am. Kind of opposite to 10-10-10 because currently I seem to be focusing on the first 10, as in immediately. Like, I want a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich who cares what 10 months of these things will bring to my hips. But I am starting to go a little further out in my thinking.
I like school. I am an A whore. I love getting As. I was always terrible pissed when I got a B. Not in high school, I could have cared less then, but in college. The husband and I have this on going discussion about the purpose of education, or namely college. He believes it is so people can learn skills to get a job; such as you need the basic skills of your degree but you also need to learn all the networking and other such b.s. required to land a job these days. He's probably right if your goal post college is to work and be paid for it. I, however, just love school for the sake of learning. I am a big nerd.
I also love beautiful things. I am a huge romantic too. I love flowers but shot myself in the foot once with a nasty comment and so I rarely receive them anymore. I love the idea of holding hands, strolling along some Parisian street all twitterpated. I listen to Bocelli because he just sounds so beautiful. I like pretty smelly things in my house, I like to look at pictures of beautiful countrysides, lavender fields, you know all kinds of girlie crap. But not blingy. Not so into the bling.
So what have we covered here, that Jennie is not at all practical, she's a big nerd, and likes pretty things. Where am I going with this. That I am going to start focusing my energy and doing things that I like (not harmful to the family things mind you) but things such as: I am going to take a couple of classes. Not to be practical and learn how to invest our money to make millions. Nope not for me. I am going to take some writing classes. One on travel and the other just basic creative writing. I really want to take a French class too. Now you may be asking yourself, um didn't she get some Chinese language computer course that was all pricey. Yes. Yes I did. I do not like it. Not because it is hard, there are parts of Chinese that are very hard, like character writing, but the language itself is rather simple. I just don't like Chinese. It does not move me. I have no desire to go to China, plus I don't like the way it sounds coming from my mouth. I do however want to return to France. I also LOVE the way French sounds, all nasally and stuck up. It is fun to say things in French. I don't care that it is in no way practical, it is pretty and I love to learn. See we are covering things that Jennie likes.
So just to be logical about it: here is my little 10-10-10 discussion on the matter:
Should Jennie learn French and take some writing classes?
First 10- we can afford it, it will get me out of the house, challenge my brain
Second 10- I may have met other people that can lead me in the direction that I want to go with my writing , good networking skillz perhaps. I will have learned something new which will starve off Alzheimer's later in life, I will say sweet nothings to the husband in French and then write about it with the new found writing skills
Third 10- Since we will own a villa in the South of France by this time and I will be surrounded by lavender fields conversing fluently with the locals, while I sip wine, eat my tasty chocolate filled croissant and finish editing my forth book which, naturally, will wind up on the New York Times best seller list...and I will get to meet Oprah, then of course this is a good decision.
See I told you I am impractical and not at all logical.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
(I am trying something new here for a bit. I love to write this is the only reason for this blog. I am going to be writing one very long narrative and see where it takes me, continue reading if you like I am not sure how long I will keep it up but its mainly for me so if you get bored and don't want to read I won't mind and there are only about six of you that actually read this crap anyway)
The husband travels a lot. Somehow I think is a cruel joke the universe has played on me. Like when you're trying to lose weight and people keep bringing you free pies, key lime, chocolate mousse, rhubarb strawberry all of your favorites but you can't eat them because you are on Weight Watchers so you watch them eat them instead. Then you bite into a carrot just to be sociable. You see, I love to travel. Since having kids it has gotten more difficult because we are now buying four plane tickets and there is all the luggage, car seats, minivan rentals. Not quite the same as a backpack, Lonely Planet book, and a baguette with fromagge. That will be my life again, someday. Unfortunately I get to watch my husband go places. Granted, it is usually to places I have no interest in going like Ohio or Michigan. Sometimes he goes cool places like California or New York, then I pout. And yet with my wanderlust I seem to have developed an afraid of flying thingy over the past couple of years. Not quite sure what that is about, I think it is the lack of control issue. Anyhoo...
While I was living my bohemian life in Europe I became a nanny for a few months right before we returned to the States. The kids were pretty cute. Twin babies and a three year old boy. I was apparently this family's Mary Poppins because they didn't want me to move back and when they went to Egypt on vacation they took me with them, and then paid me too. It was in February 2001. I remember laying on the beach next to the Red Sea thinking to myself "Self, you have got the sweetest life ever. Two weeks ago you were skiing in Switzerland and now look at you tanning in Egypt. You must have been a very good person in your past life." Then a few months later I was married, living in Las Vegas, quickly realizing that a pre-med degree was not for me, nor was Vegas, then came the job which completely resembled The Office (I was Pam, always nice.) You know with all the gender discrimination that sexual harrassment that comes with working these days, not to mention bitchy strippers turned mortgage brokers who hadn't yet learned that throwing tantrums is generally not acceptable behavior in adults. Then came pregnancy one, two, and three, the move to Colorado, the overworked traveling husband, and an aging yet still very naughty dog and her sidekick the cat. Suburbia. Where my life's worry is whether or not my kid will get opened enrolled in school next year or am I just going to have to move.
I have been trying to return to that beach or at least that mindset for the past eight years. Its not like my life is hard. Especially now. Three kids is time consuming and there is very little sleep or personal time, but it is no way hard. The husband's travels pay him well, my kids are healthy, my marriage is way stronger now than a year ago...not much to complain about right? Yet, I still have my good friend anxiety with me. Its more like a mean dog than a friend. You see anxiety or worry is there because we were supposed to stay alive in harsh conditions eons ago like a dog is supposed to be man's best friend. But then life got way more easy and yet this primordal anxiety fills people up over stupid crap like laundry. Man's best friend turned bad. So this postpartum anxiety is now like a bad dog chained to a tree that if you get too close it will growl and bark and you. But at least this time it is tied to a tree as opposed to baby girl's postpartum fun fest where the dog was chasing me all over the backyard and the fence was too high to jump. I am not sure why we even keep this dumb old mean dog around. I guess I am afraid they will put it to sleep at the pound, so there he is attached to the tree.
Even though I am having all this fun with suburbian anxiety, kids, traveling husbands I frequently let my mind wander back to this beach next to the Red Sea. But last weekend a glimmer of hope reemerged in my mind. It stated "hey there dummy you get to play in both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans this summer... and not only that, but you are going to both DISNEYLAND and DISNEY WORLD in one summer! Wake up stupid. Your life is pretty damn good." Then it kicked the dog tied to the tree. I smiled and loaded the family up in the truckster and went to the Rockies game.
~more later, hopefully tomorrow~