Talk about a few major jumps in the action, eh? Two blog postings ago I had just met my now-husband, Chris. My last blog posting I was married to Chris and had passed the CPA exam.
I'm now a fully-licensed CPA and almost 15 weeks pregnant! Oh my goodness, when did all this HAPPEN? It feels like Chris and I just met, but here we are about 2 1/2 years later: happily married, with two dogs and a bun in the oven. We are really, truly blessed.
This seems like as good a place as any to lay my pregnancy goals right out there for the world to see. Since skiing the full Birkie next year is out (actually, ALL ski racing is out, as I'm due March 18), my goals have been revamped accordingly. My goal is to shuffle around on my trustworthy nordic skis this winter and stay on trails I know very well, possibly taking the doggies out skijoring a few times so they don't feel left out. I would like to keep my weight gain down to 25 lbs, which is on the low end of normal range according to a chart I am watching carefully.
So far I'm up about 4-5 lbs from pre-pregnancy weight and doing about as much exercise as I can get away with. Jogging is sorely limited, as it seems to bring on a pain in my groin muscles that is not unlike the feeling of shin splints (except in a different area, obviously). It feel likes the muscles are being pulled aways from my pelvic bones- not pleasant! So I'm doing pretty limited jogging, but trying to take the dogs for lots of walks and doing as much ski walking as I can fit into the schedule.
So far I've been fairly free of weird cravings. It seems like my appetite is sticking to normal foods, like apples from our home apple tree and currently, turkey and stuffing. The latter craving has not yet been fulfilled, so I think I may end up cooking a turkey this weekend. Go figure, when my one consistent food aversion for the last few months has been chicken breasts. I still have no desire to even look at a chicken breast, but turkey sounds lovely. *shrug* What can you do?
Chris has been ultra-supportive, and is SO excited to be a father in a few months! We have not yet found out what sex the baby will be, but Chris is hoping for a boy. That will be answered in about a month, hopefully!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Learning to Let Go
Talk about a blast from the past! After a 2 year hiatus from posting, I thought I'd check out my old blog posts and see what it was that I was so excited to write about back then.
The very end of my last post completely floored me. As follows:
"So let me make a toast.... To the end of squandered opportunities, to the end of bad choices, and to the beginning of recognizing a good thing when you find it."
I cannot say how completely appropos that final paragraph was. It fell about 5 days after my very first date with Chris, and two days after skiing my first half-marathon distance ski race.
Then came the big gap in postings. Why? Because as it turns out, it's difficult to find the inspiration to blog when you don't have any drama in your life. That may not be true of everyone, but it was certainly true for me. There is a part of me that wants to take the happy things in her life and keep them private- nurture them and hide them from the world, lest they fly away and disappear.
What were my life concerns two years ago? I wanted to find someone to be my true partner in life, to help me find my "true north" and (much more mundane) to pass the CPA exam.
Now I find myself happily married, considering a family, and most recently a CPA licensing candidate after having FINALLY passed that bugger of an exam.
In my past life, my inability to let go of things was the bane of my existence. I would obsess over failed relationships, bad decisions, not knowing what I wanted for dinner, you name it.
As a happy person who has recently achieved some of her major life goals, I am now finding myself obsessing over my most recently accomplished goal, which was to pass the CPA exam.
After over 18 months of studying and agonizing, I finally killed the exam with what turned out to be relatively few hiccups. However now that I'm not obsessively stressing myself about study and work, I find myself searching for ways to hold onto that aggravating exam. For example, I recently took on project to help a CPA website administrator put together a set of study flashcards to offer on his website. That's right, I voluntarily spent another month effectively studying the darn CPA exam AFTER receiving my passing grades. Even I am wondering about my sanity on that one.
My dear husband just shakes his head at me and then goes off to read a good book, which is what I too would be doing if I was halfway sane.
E.
The very end of my last post completely floored me. As follows:
"So let me make a toast.... To the end of squandered opportunities, to the end of bad choices, and to the beginning of recognizing a good thing when you find it."
I cannot say how completely appropos that final paragraph was. It fell about 5 days after my very first date with Chris, and two days after skiing my first half-marathon distance ski race.
Then came the big gap in postings. Why? Because as it turns out, it's difficult to find the inspiration to blog when you don't have any drama in your life. That may not be true of everyone, but it was certainly true for me. There is a part of me that wants to take the happy things in her life and keep them private- nurture them and hide them from the world, lest they fly away and disappear.
What were my life concerns two years ago? I wanted to find someone to be my true partner in life, to help me find my "true north" and (much more mundane) to pass the CPA exam.
Now I find myself happily married, considering a family, and most recently a CPA licensing candidate after having FINALLY passed that bugger of an exam.
In my past life, my inability to let go of things was the bane of my existence. I would obsess over failed relationships, bad decisions, not knowing what I wanted for dinner, you name it.
As a happy person who has recently achieved some of her major life goals, I am now finding myself obsessing over my most recently accomplished goal, which was to pass the CPA exam.
After over 18 months of studying and agonizing, I finally killed the exam with what turned out to be relatively few hiccups. However now that I'm not obsessively stressing myself about study and work, I find myself searching for ways to hold onto that aggravating exam. For example, I recently took on project to help a CPA website administrator put together a set of study flashcards to offer on his website. That's right, I voluntarily spent another month effectively studying the darn CPA exam AFTER receiving my passing grades. Even I am wondering about my sanity on that one.
My dear husband just shakes his head at me and then goes off to read a good book, which is what I too would be doing if I was halfway sane.
E.
Monday, March 2, 2009
This one's for you!
God love my friends, they are an adventurous group of people.
A good friend of mine sent me a text at about midnight on Saturday, saying, "I just spent the entire day snowmobiling and now I'm being hit on by a 60 year old woman. It's come down to this, Erica, get me my gun. I'm done!" I didn't receive the text until around 3am, at which time I couldn't stop myself from sending him what I felt was a friendly and appropriately supportive response saying, "Well, did you ask her to take out her dentures?"
This of course led to an immediate phone call from him, full of disgusted protestations about the potential horrors of kissing someone with no teeth. I responded that it might behoove him to find a new place to hang out, if he doesn't like the attention he's receiving. And on my own end, perhaps I should know better than to answer late-night text messages? ;) j/k, Ry.
I was toying with the idea of posting an, "Erica's top 5 worst dates ever" blog, but I think maybe that might be unfair to some of the people I went out with. After all, there could be a perfectly good (medical?) reason why someone would spit into their hand a dozen times during dinner while steadfastly refusing to use a napkin (Where did the spit disappear to? I have no idea.). Or maybe it's not nearly so entertaining as I think to go on a Valentine's date and have your date tell you *after* you order that he has only $10 with him, and then offer to cook you a breakfast burrito at his house instead. Or who could forget my personal favorite, which involved being invited over to watch a movie at a boyfriend's dorm room, only to arrive and find him sitting with a group of dorm buddies, snuggled up to another girl?
But no worries- in typical "Erica" fashion, I stuck around to watch the entire movie anyway, just to piss him off. And in the end the other girl ended up dating his best friend, so I guess you just can't fight karma, can you? Poor guy.... he wasn't very smart. This is the same guy who asked me if "Romeo and Juliet" was written by Shakespeare. But damn, was he cute!
It's tempting in the face of adversity to concentrate on all the bad experiences and forget about the astonishingly good ones. If you can manage to let go of the slights of the past and immerse yourself in the memories that make you smile, the journey is much sweeter. You get much more satisfaction from the memory of meeting the handsome blue-eyed stranger who asked you to dance and then whirled your heart away, or the amazing company of a true gentleman at a formal event. Or the smile of anticipation on someone's face before a first kiss, followed by the smile of triumph afterwards.
Such are the memories that keep you going when you've spent two years making mistake after mistake. If you're lucky, you'll recognize your true opportunity when it presents itself and you won't let it go to waste.
On this very day, I hope that I have finished making mistakes and will be forgiven for those I've already made.
So let me make a toast.... To the end of squandered opportunities, to the end of bad choices, and to the beginning of recognizing a good thing when you find it.
A good friend of mine sent me a text at about midnight on Saturday, saying, "I just spent the entire day snowmobiling and now I'm being hit on by a 60 year old woman. It's come down to this, Erica, get me my gun. I'm done!" I didn't receive the text until around 3am, at which time I couldn't stop myself from sending him what I felt was a friendly and appropriately supportive response saying, "Well, did you ask her to take out her dentures?"
This of course led to an immediate phone call from him, full of disgusted protestations about the potential horrors of kissing someone with no teeth. I responded that it might behoove him to find a new place to hang out, if he doesn't like the attention he's receiving. And on my own end, perhaps I should know better than to answer late-night text messages? ;) j/k, Ry.
I was toying with the idea of posting an, "Erica's top 5 worst dates ever" blog, but I think maybe that might be unfair to some of the people I went out with. After all, there could be a perfectly good (medical?) reason why someone would spit into their hand a dozen times during dinner while steadfastly refusing to use a napkin (Where did the spit disappear to? I have no idea.). Or maybe it's not nearly so entertaining as I think to go on a Valentine's date and have your date tell you *after* you order that he has only $10 with him, and then offer to cook you a breakfast burrito at his house instead. Or who could forget my personal favorite, which involved being invited over to watch a movie at a boyfriend's dorm room, only to arrive and find him sitting with a group of dorm buddies, snuggled up to another girl?
But no worries- in typical "Erica" fashion, I stuck around to watch the entire movie anyway, just to piss him off. And in the end the other girl ended up dating his best friend, so I guess you just can't fight karma, can you? Poor guy.... he wasn't very smart. This is the same guy who asked me if "Romeo and Juliet" was written by Shakespeare. But damn, was he cute!
It's tempting in the face of adversity to concentrate on all the bad experiences and forget about the astonishingly good ones. If you can manage to let go of the slights of the past and immerse yourself in the memories that make you smile, the journey is much sweeter. You get much more satisfaction from the memory of meeting the handsome blue-eyed stranger who asked you to dance and then whirled your heart away, or the amazing company of a true gentleman at a formal event. Or the smile of anticipation on someone's face before a first kiss, followed by the smile of triumph afterwards.
Such are the memories that keep you going when you've spent two years making mistake after mistake. If you're lucky, you'll recognize your true opportunity when it presents itself and you won't let it go to waste.
On this very day, I hope that I have finished making mistakes and will be forgiven for those I've already made.
So let me make a toast.... To the end of squandered opportunities, to the end of bad choices, and to the beginning of recognizing a good thing when you find it.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Working on my aim.
Currently my life is nothing short of a chaotic mess.
I'm running in 5 directions at once, which obviously results in me getting nowhere... or maybe not nowhere, but definitely not where I want to go in 4 out of the 5 directions.
What am I doing, you ask? "What am I not doing?" is perhaps the better question. My life has taken some large and significant turns over the last two years. If you factor in the last 5, it's just beyond comprehension.
2004 - divorce and move to Vermont, lose 15 lbs.
2005 - Serious but brief relationship, move to Houston, become broke, move home to Duluth, lose another 5 lbs.
2006 - Start serious relationship with a sloth, gain 15 lbs.
2007 - End serious relationship with sloth, spend the rest of the year wasting more time with sloth. Develop riding goals and start working on judging certification.
2008 - Get promoted, work life in an uproar, no progress on the CPA exam, finally ditch the sloth for good, run WAAAY too many horse shows, be financially irresponsible and just generally behave like a complete mess. Start skiing again, put my horse on the back burner.
2009 - Go crazy skiing. Pay someone else to play with my horse. Trying to re-establish my direction at work, join an e-zine, lose 5 lbs and trying to ground my sense of self. Set goal to do a short course triathlon in 6 months, get my judging scores in 6 months, pass the CPA exam in 6 months.... oh holy FUCK, how the heck am I supposed to do all that?!
Life confusion, TODAY... ski well, don't ski well, ski well again. Feel skinnier, look skinnier, feel fat again, LOOK fat again. Feel inspired, feel left behind, feel like I can take on the world and TKO. Want something, want nothing, want anything! See the distance, see everything around me, see nothing but my tunnel vision with a truck in the way.
The thoughts in my head are dizzying and move at the speed of light. One topic, another topic, a third and then circle back to the first. A little nervous, almost queasy... did I have too much caffeine? Yes. Not real stress then, just the coffee. Breathe in, and breathe the stress out with it. Wash, rinse, repeat. Pause for thought- my thoughts would confuse many people. Un-pause. Re-orient the antenna... proceed with normal programming.
***************
It's Valentine's Day. I'm single. I haven't had a "good" Valentine's day since 2003, and haven't had sex on Valentine's Day since 2004. I read the preceding paragraphs and think it's possibly a good thing I've been single for two years. I've been pseudo-stalked by a string of booty-texters, but I'm quite sure that doesn't count. I shouldn't complain, I could be single with no entertainment from the inebriated masses.
My dear friend Jimmy sent me the the following text this morning: "Happy Valentine's Day... The most smurftastic, smurfarific, F-ing day of the year! Thanks Mr. Hershey!"
My response: "And thank you Mr. Valentine for being executed, too!"
His response: "I heart hangings and beheadings!"
How can you dislike V.D. (I freaking laugh every time I say that abbreviation) when you have super-fantastic friends who say things like "I heart hangings and beheadings!" I died laughing, much to the chagrin of my father, who during this interchange was attempting to make a point to my mother and I on the specific reasons why the current economic stimulus package will flop. After the third or fourth time I interrupted him, laughing and chuckling to myself, "I heart hangings and beheadings, AUGH, I'm dying... so sorry dad, please continue!" he finally gave up. God bless my father.
What are the directions I'm being pulled right now, you may ask? Writing. Riding and managing shows. Skiing/potentially triathlon-ing. Working. CPA-ing.
I think half the reason I'd like to meet someone is because then I've have some kind of magnetic north around which to plot my course. I don't necessarily need to *go* north, but knowing where north is, suddenly the other directions may become more clear. When you can change your own north at will, because it's merely internal, it's that much easier to find yourself becoming disoriented.
Some food for thought.
E.
I'm running in 5 directions at once, which obviously results in me getting nowhere... or maybe not nowhere, but definitely not where I want to go in 4 out of the 5 directions.
What am I doing, you ask? "What am I not doing?" is perhaps the better question. My life has taken some large and significant turns over the last two years. If you factor in the last 5, it's just beyond comprehension.
2004 - divorce and move to Vermont, lose 15 lbs.
2005 - Serious but brief relationship, move to Houston, become broke, move home to Duluth, lose another 5 lbs.
2006 - Start serious relationship with a sloth, gain 15 lbs.
2007 - End serious relationship with sloth, spend the rest of the year wasting more time with sloth. Develop riding goals and start working on judging certification.
2008 - Get promoted, work life in an uproar, no progress on the CPA exam, finally ditch the sloth for good, run WAAAY too many horse shows, be financially irresponsible and just generally behave like a complete mess. Start skiing again, put my horse on the back burner.
2009 - Go crazy skiing. Pay someone else to play with my horse. Trying to re-establish my direction at work, join an e-zine, lose 5 lbs and trying to ground my sense of self. Set goal to do a short course triathlon in 6 months, get my judging scores in 6 months, pass the CPA exam in 6 months.... oh holy FUCK, how the heck am I supposed to do all that?!
Life confusion, TODAY... ski well, don't ski well, ski well again. Feel skinnier, look skinnier, feel fat again, LOOK fat again. Feel inspired, feel left behind, feel like I can take on the world and TKO. Want something, want nothing, want anything! See the distance, see everything around me, see nothing but my tunnel vision with a truck in the way.
The thoughts in my head are dizzying and move at the speed of light. One topic, another topic, a third and then circle back to the first. A little nervous, almost queasy... did I have too much caffeine? Yes. Not real stress then, just the coffee. Breathe in, and breathe the stress out with it. Wash, rinse, repeat. Pause for thought- my thoughts would confuse many people. Un-pause. Re-orient the antenna... proceed with normal programming.
***************
It's Valentine's Day. I'm single. I haven't had a "good" Valentine's day since 2003, and haven't had sex on Valentine's Day since 2004. I read the preceding paragraphs and think it's possibly a good thing I've been single for two years. I've been pseudo-stalked by a string of booty-texters, but I'm quite sure that doesn't count. I shouldn't complain, I could be single with no entertainment from the inebriated masses.
My dear friend Jimmy sent me the the following text this morning: "Happy Valentine's Day... The most smurftastic, smurfarific, F-ing day of the year! Thanks Mr. Hershey!"
My response: "And thank you Mr. Valentine for being executed, too!"
His response: "I heart hangings and beheadings!"
How can you dislike V.D. (I freaking laugh every time I say that abbreviation) when you have super-fantastic friends who say things like "I heart hangings and beheadings!" I died laughing, much to the chagrin of my father, who during this interchange was attempting to make a point to my mother and I on the specific reasons why the current economic stimulus package will flop. After the third or fourth time I interrupted him, laughing and chuckling to myself, "I heart hangings and beheadings, AUGH, I'm dying... so sorry dad, please continue!" he finally gave up. God bless my father.
What are the directions I'm being pulled right now, you may ask? Writing. Riding and managing shows. Skiing/potentially triathlon-ing. Working. CPA-ing.
I think half the reason I'd like to meet someone is because then I've have some kind of magnetic north around which to plot my course. I don't necessarily need to *go* north, but knowing where north is, suddenly the other directions may become more clear. When you can change your own north at will, because it's merely internal, it's that much easier to find yourself becoming disoriented.
Some food for thought.
E.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
My Own Commandments
Wow. So today I was scanning through the Huffington Post site, where I ran across a suggestion that everyone should have their own personal set of commandments to live by. I thought, "Aha! I already have one!" as I know that sometime after my divorce I came up with such a list (although it may have been more directed towards dating than towards life as a whole) and that I have indeed brought up that list at other times in my blog.
So I enthusiastically started mucking through two years of myspace blogs in search of my own personal commandments. I found a list of life goals and a few requirements for potential suitors, but my personal commandments were nowhere to be found. I began to feel disturbingly like they have been lost somewhere between my transition from the "Under 35 divorce support" web board on which they were originally posted, the "Graduates of said board who wanted to keep in touch" web board, and my myspace blog.
I then went to search my email archives, where I believed I stored an email from a friend that was my original inspiration. I discovered that the email was gone, and felt like a piece of my own personal history had somehow disappeared with it. It's an odd feeling to think that a few typed lines could hold such a close place in your heart, but I guess it makes sense when I consider how much of myself I tied up in them at the time. And of course everything in that period of my life felt so completely melodramatic that it probably just triggers a stir-up of a bunch of overly excitable crap from the furthest depths of my subconscious mind.
And so I now embark on the rather daunting task of defining what I want for myself, or where I'm going, or SOMETHING... how can I make the list if I don't even know what I'm listing? I guess I'll treat it like any good blog- you don't really know where it's going until you get there, you just have to take some vaguely-defined idea and hope it takes wing (just to warn you, it often doesn't!).
(And this first one is the hardest, it's always the "getting going" that comes with the most difficulty)
1. Be "me" at all times. This seems obvious, but for whatever reason there are always a few people in my life that seem to make me feel 5 inches tall, and in their presence I turn into a vacuous little blonde airhead who seems to be stuck about a year and a half out of high school. I'd like to stuff that annoying little chit into a meat grinder, but instead I'll just settle for pretending she doesn't exist and figure out a way to make her stay in her box where she belongs.
2. Listen, REALLY listen, when my friends give me advice. They sometimes see me more clearly than I do myself, and to a "one" they all tell me what I need to hear.
3. Put more value on where my life is going than where it is now. When things are going well it's easy to sometimes rest on my laurels and not keep on with the keeping on. Rest less, work more.
4. Get fit. Be fit. Stay fit. That may seem obvious, but if you've ever been UN-fit, you'll know this is harder than it sounds.
5. Stay funny, but be nice at the same time. I would like to keep the funny parts but eliminate those occasional rare "joking" comments that can come out the wrong way. It makes me wince just thinking about them.
6. Stay in touch. Don't ever again become the hermit of my early-mid-20's. Know that if I feel like I'm getting there, something is very, very wrong.
7. Moderation in love as in life. Embrace both sides of the equation: Be willing to put myself out there and take some chances while maintaining good judgement and trusting my gut. And no, that doesn't mean I'll start responding more favorably to booty texts. Sorry, guys.
8. Be reasonable. Have reasonable expectations of people, and of life. And perhaps more importantly, of myself.
9. Let go. Don't be afraid to let things happen. Don't be afraid to let things go. Get a little out of control sometimes.
10. Deliver what I promise. Don't pretend to offer something I'm not, don't pretend to be able to do things I can't (or won't) and just generally put on the table exactly what I'm offering.
11. Listen to my gut. Pretty much every personal "to-do" list I've ever written has this same advice. When I listen to it, it's right. When I don't, I pretty much always regret it.
I guess these commandments are things I try to do on a daily basis anyways, but maybe by defining them and putting them on paper I'll be able to keep them more in the forefront of my daily life.
What are your commandments?
Erica.
So I enthusiastically started mucking through two years of myspace blogs in search of my own personal commandments. I found a list of life goals and a few requirements for potential suitors, but my personal commandments were nowhere to be found. I began to feel disturbingly like they have been lost somewhere between my transition from the "Under 35 divorce support" web board on which they were originally posted, the "Graduates of said board who wanted to keep in touch" web board, and my myspace blog.
I then went to search my email archives, where I believed I stored an email from a friend that was my original inspiration. I discovered that the email was gone, and felt like a piece of my own personal history had somehow disappeared with it. It's an odd feeling to think that a few typed lines could hold such a close place in your heart, but I guess it makes sense when I consider how much of myself I tied up in them at the time. And of course everything in that period of my life felt so completely melodramatic that it probably just triggers a stir-up of a bunch of overly excitable crap from the furthest depths of my subconscious mind.
And so I now embark on the rather daunting task of defining what I want for myself, or where I'm going, or SOMETHING... how can I make the list if I don't even know what I'm listing? I guess I'll treat it like any good blog- you don't really know where it's going until you get there, you just have to take some vaguely-defined idea and hope it takes wing (just to warn you, it often doesn't!).
(And this first one is the hardest, it's always the "getting going" that comes with the most difficulty)
1. Be "me" at all times. This seems obvious, but for whatever reason there are always a few people in my life that seem to make me feel 5 inches tall, and in their presence I turn into a vacuous little blonde airhead who seems to be stuck about a year and a half out of high school. I'd like to stuff that annoying little chit into a meat grinder, but instead I'll just settle for pretending she doesn't exist and figure out a way to make her stay in her box where she belongs.
2. Listen, REALLY listen, when my friends give me advice. They sometimes see me more clearly than I do myself, and to a "one" they all tell me what I need to hear.
3. Put more value on where my life is going than where it is now. When things are going well it's easy to sometimes rest on my laurels and not keep on with the keeping on. Rest less, work more.
4. Get fit. Be fit. Stay fit. That may seem obvious, but if you've ever been UN-fit, you'll know this is harder than it sounds.
5. Stay funny, but be nice at the same time. I would like to keep the funny parts but eliminate those occasional rare "joking" comments that can come out the wrong way. It makes me wince just thinking about them.
6. Stay in touch. Don't ever again become the hermit of my early-mid-20's. Know that if I feel like I'm getting there, something is very, very wrong.
7. Moderation in love as in life. Embrace both sides of the equation: Be willing to put myself out there and take some chances while maintaining good judgement and trusting my gut. And no, that doesn't mean I'll start responding more favorably to booty texts. Sorry, guys.
8. Be reasonable. Have reasonable expectations of people, and of life. And perhaps more importantly, of myself.
9. Let go. Don't be afraid to let things happen. Don't be afraid to let things go. Get a little out of control sometimes.
10. Deliver what I promise. Don't pretend to offer something I'm not, don't pretend to be able to do things I can't (or won't) and just generally put on the table exactly what I'm offering.
11. Listen to my gut. Pretty much every personal "to-do" list I've ever written has this same advice. When I listen to it, it's right. When I don't, I pretty much always regret it.
I guess these commandments are things I try to do on a daily basis anyways, but maybe by defining them and putting them on paper I'll be able to keep them more in the forefront of my daily life.
What are your commandments?
Erica.
Stealing Someone Else's Words Again
This is a re-post from my prior blog, and actually isn't something I myself wrote. But from time to time I enjoy reading, so I thought you might as well. I apologize in advance for the egregious misuse of quotation marks. I cut and pasted. :)
Thanks to Jess for the following:
"Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky his is to have you.... The one who turns to his friends and says, 'that's her.'"
"I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.
"Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning."
"You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel."
"Love is not blind; it simply enables one to see things others fail to see."
"Love is one of the hardest words to say and one of the easiest to hear."
"Love is saying 'I feel differently' instead of 'You're wrong.'"
"When you smiled you had my undivided attention. When you laughed you had my urge to laugh with you. When you cried you had my urge to hold you. When you said you loved me, you had my heart forever."
"I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you."
"It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let the person know how you feel."
Thanks to Jess for the following:
"Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky his is to have you.... The one who turns to his friends and says, 'that's her.'"
"I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.
"Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning."
"You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel."
"Love is not blind; it simply enables one to see things others fail to see."
"Love is one of the hardest words to say and one of the easiest to hear."
"Love is saying 'I feel differently' instead of 'You're wrong.'"
"When you smiled you had my undivided attention. When you laughed you had my urge to laugh with you. When you cried you had my urge to hold you. When you said you loved me, you had my heart forever."
"I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you."
"It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let the person know how you feel."
Thursday, December 25, 2008
"You'd have to know her." Or, "The whole fam damnly."
So, it isn't completely unheard of for me to review something I wrote in a previous blog and edit out a part that I belatedly realized might not sit well with some people.
In chatting with a friend the other day, I was informed that one line from my last blog could be viewed as being extremely conceited and self-absorbed. The line, which I have since changed, was related to my father writing a memo to potential suitors that I had "won the genetic lottery," and was followed by a comment about how I am willing to provide references on how terrific my sense of humor is (insert tongue in cheek here).
When my friend told me this, I was rather at a loss. It of course struck me immediately that he was right, but since the entire comment was supposed to be a combined statement on how fathers always think their daughters are anybody's best catch, combined with some wry sarcasm on the benefits of receiving my dad's genetics, it hadn't really occurred to me what the more obvious interpretation of that statement would be.
It provoked some thought on my part, which inevitably led me to the following problem: how do you blog about something funny when your audience ranges from people who know you extremely well and can finish half your sentences for you, to people who have met you once at a cocktail party, to people who you were passingly friendly with in high school? The issue there being that people who know me well read the exact same line mentioned above and busted a gut, and some others were apparently EXTREMELY turned off by it, thinking that I'm this horribly stuck up person who thinks overhighly of myself... which I can assure you is most certainly not the case.
For example, my sister had read the blog. I asked if she'd read it prior to my edit, and she had. I told her of the reason for the edit, and she snorted, laughed and said, "Yes, but who in their right mind would EVER want to win that lottery?!" THANK YOU, Jen, my point exactly. But if you don't know my dad, you don't know me quite well (well enough to know I in no way think I am a genetic masterpiece, LOL) and don't know the multitude of downsides to receiving the Sivertson genes... well, yes, you get the point. However you can't write to everyone's benefit, but you edit the text, shrug and move on.
So, now that I've gotten that off my chest, on to the "real" blog.
******************************************************************************
Christmas in the Sivertson household is always quite a riot. There are generally at least 4 dogs in my parents' small house, 3 of which are approx. 100 lbs. The fourth is a wired-up dalmation cross who is forever darting about and tripping people (those who aren't tripped are sometimes knocked down by the other three). My dwarf aunt (from my mom's side) adds to the mix by randomly throwing food to the dogs and exclaiming, "Who wants to play FRISBEE??" at odd moments, which is a guaranteed method of getting my huge German Shepherd, Dante, leaping up and howling like Chewbacca to anyone who will listen. The term that comes to mind is "dogemonium." As in, a pandemonium of dogs.
Next on the list is my father and my sister's fiance of 7 years loudly discussing passenger boats over the tops of everyone else's heads (they're substantially taller than the rest of us) and increasing volume as needed so that they can hear each other from exact opposite sides of the room. The dogs at this point lie down and resign themselves to boredom for a brief time.
Meanwhile my mother is futilely attempting to put together an elegant family function, while trying to juggle my sister and I, who alternate in assisting and/or managing said function and injecting completely inelegant humorous comments while laughing like hyenas. When my oldest sister (who is 14 years older) is present, the effect is multiplied by three and frequently includes totally random quotes from "Raising Arizona." When it's just Jen and I, the comments tend to include quite a bit of David Sedaris and Eddie Izzard (look them up, they rock). You'd be shocked at how often the quotes of a transvestite British comedian can be applied to your average family gathering. "You want a rack of babies? We've got babies on racks!" "Sometimes I'd go up in that tree and the squirrel would be just COVERED in makeup!" "You can't kill the rooster!"
My sister (three years my elder, btw) also tends oddly towards imitating a small child at times... I guess that since she doesn't want kids she has decided to substitute occasionally acting like one in order to make the rest of us crazy. Example... picking some random term out of the conversation and repeating it to me 5 times until she manages to intrude on my concentration and tell her to shut it. "Steak seasoning? STEAK SEASONING. Steak Seasoning? STEAK SEASONING. Steak Seasoning?" "You! SHUT UP." Then she giggles like a five year old and goes back to sipping her Tom and Jerry.
Truth be told, however, my sister and I are two sides of the same coin. There are multiple documented cases of one of us leaving the room and both of us going on to say the *exact* same thing to someone 30 seconds later. And we frequently startle people at the horse shows we manage together by glancing at each other and bursting into laughter from nothing more than a shared glance. There is some level of shared thought going on there which lends itself to complex lines of reasoning that somehow end in the same place. We've long since stopped asking each other if we're both laughing about the same thing, because we pretty much always are.
If the holidays include a date, I generally tend to warn people in advance. Between my aunt (see above), who is definitely her own brand of interesting, my parents and the general state of crazy humor, it can be a bit bizarre for the uninitiated. However it's relatively tame compared to how it used to be. In years past the holidays would have also included my two grandmothers, who are polar opposites of one another.
My Danish grandmother from my father's side was a demure woman of excellent manners who wore the same outfit for virtually every Christmas I can remember (a dark aqua ruffled blouse with one of several necklaces received from her granddaughters, and black slacks). My mother's mother, on the other hand.... she was a German grandmother to the very definition, who was quite fond of her cocktails and reminding each family member of each and every one of his/her respective shortcomings ("Erica, I'm so proud of you for graduating from college. I never thought you'd get that far, you know." "Thanks, grandma, that's lovely."). It was probably revenge for our behavior as children, when all of us cousins would sit outside during the summer and giggle like chipmunks as we took turns imitating her inebriated behavior while shouting at each other, "God damn it Fritz, help me up!" and pretending to fall down on the lawn. Weren't we just peaches? That's okay, she only got meaner as the years went by. The truth is, she was equally mean to her own kids when they were growing up, so I can take no credit whatsoever for her vitriolic sense of family affection.
Perhaps she was just an outlandish example of the dry humor the rest of us have heartily embraced. My 5 year old 2nd cousin asked me last night, "Where is the Christmas tree?" When I pointed out the 3-ft tree sitting on a coffee table, she looked puzzled and wondered why we didn't have a bigger one. My mom then grumpily explained that my father doesn't like Christmas (total crap, btw) and decorating is too much work. After that comment my father seemed out to prove her right, and I caught him later telling my little cousin that "Sometimes we give the presents back to Santa and he gives them to other little kids next year." Fortunately my dad is a total cream puff with kids and she was smart enough to catch the twinkle in his eye and make a saucy comment back. Just what we need, a traumatized year old who thinks she isn't getting any presents!
If you embrace the fam, it's a wild and lovely ride. Traditions pass from grandparents on down, and the Tom and Jerry's and Norwegian fish cakes generally make their welcome appearance. (don't ask for the recipe, I won't give it to you, LOL). Tomorrow Christmas will be over and this year will be relegated to memory, the year when dad tried to tell Clara we give back the Christmas presents and I lined up the Tom and Jerry mugs for a photo shoot. The year Kitty gave me a hand-painted portrait of Diva and Dante drove everyone crazy on Christmas Eve because his frisbee was forgotten at home. The year when my mom bought my dad the "ShamWow" as a massive family joke, and my sisters took pity on me and bought me gift cards for a new washer and dryer. And the year Don drove all the way back from Wyoming in a day so he could spend Christmas day with us and discuss cleaning guns with my father for hours on end while the rest of us sprawled in front of the fireplace with Weez, Tuck-tuck, Big Digs and Kent (sorry, dalmations don't get cute nick-names).
On that image, I wish you all a very happy holiday season and I hope that you're enjoying your family time as much as I am. Love you, guys!
-Erica.
In chatting with a friend the other day, I was informed that one line from my last blog could be viewed as being extremely conceited and self-absorbed. The line, which I have since changed, was related to my father writing a memo to potential suitors that I had "won the genetic lottery," and was followed by a comment about how I am willing to provide references on how terrific my sense of humor is (insert tongue in cheek here).
When my friend told me this, I was rather at a loss. It of course struck me immediately that he was right, but since the entire comment was supposed to be a combined statement on how fathers always think their daughters are anybody's best catch, combined with some wry sarcasm on the benefits of receiving my dad's genetics, it hadn't really occurred to me what the more obvious interpretation of that statement would be.
It provoked some thought on my part, which inevitably led me to the following problem: how do you blog about something funny when your audience ranges from people who know you extremely well and can finish half your sentences for you, to people who have met you once at a cocktail party, to people who you were passingly friendly with in high school? The issue there being that people who know me well read the exact same line mentioned above and busted a gut, and some others were apparently EXTREMELY turned off by it, thinking that I'm this horribly stuck up person who thinks overhighly of myself... which I can assure you is most certainly not the case.
For example, my sister had read the blog. I asked if she'd read it prior to my edit, and she had. I told her of the reason for the edit, and she snorted, laughed and said, "Yes, but who in their right mind would EVER want to win that lottery?!" THANK YOU, Jen, my point exactly. But if you don't know my dad, you don't know me quite well (well enough to know I in no way think I am a genetic masterpiece, LOL) and don't know the multitude of downsides to receiving the Sivertson genes... well, yes, you get the point. However you can't write to everyone's benefit, but you edit the text, shrug and move on.
So, now that I've gotten that off my chest, on to the "real" blog.
******************************************************************************
Christmas in the Sivertson household is always quite a riot. There are generally at least 4 dogs in my parents' small house, 3 of which are approx. 100 lbs. The fourth is a wired-up dalmation cross who is forever darting about and tripping people (those who aren't tripped are sometimes knocked down by the other three). My dwarf aunt (from my mom's side) adds to the mix by randomly throwing food to the dogs and exclaiming, "Who wants to play FRISBEE??" at odd moments, which is a guaranteed method of getting my huge German Shepherd, Dante, leaping up and howling like Chewbacca to anyone who will listen. The term that comes to mind is "dogemonium." As in, a pandemonium of dogs.
Next on the list is my father and my sister's fiance of 7 years loudly discussing passenger boats over the tops of everyone else's heads (they're substantially taller than the rest of us) and increasing volume as needed so that they can hear each other from exact opposite sides of the room. The dogs at this point lie down and resign themselves to boredom for a brief time.
Meanwhile my mother is futilely attempting to put together an elegant family function, while trying to juggle my sister and I, who alternate in assisting and/or managing said function and injecting completely inelegant humorous comments while laughing like hyenas. When my oldest sister (who is 14 years older) is present, the effect is multiplied by three and frequently includes totally random quotes from "Raising Arizona." When it's just Jen and I, the comments tend to include quite a bit of David Sedaris and Eddie Izzard (look them up, they rock). You'd be shocked at how often the quotes of a transvestite British comedian can be applied to your average family gathering. "You want a rack of babies? We've got babies on racks!" "Sometimes I'd go up in that tree and the squirrel would be just COVERED in makeup!" "You can't kill the rooster!"
My sister (three years my elder, btw) also tends oddly towards imitating a small child at times... I guess that since she doesn't want kids she has decided to substitute occasionally acting like one in order to make the rest of us crazy. Example... picking some random term out of the conversation and repeating it to me 5 times until she manages to intrude on my concentration and tell her to shut it. "Steak seasoning? STEAK SEASONING. Steak Seasoning? STEAK SEASONING. Steak Seasoning?" "You! SHUT UP." Then she giggles like a five year old and goes back to sipping her Tom and Jerry.
Truth be told, however, my sister and I are two sides of the same coin. There are multiple documented cases of one of us leaving the room and both of us going on to say the *exact* same thing to someone 30 seconds later. And we frequently startle people at the horse shows we manage together by glancing at each other and bursting into laughter from nothing more than a shared glance. There is some level of shared thought going on there which lends itself to complex lines of reasoning that somehow end in the same place. We've long since stopped asking each other if we're both laughing about the same thing, because we pretty much always are.
If the holidays include a date, I generally tend to warn people in advance. Between my aunt (see above), who is definitely her own brand of interesting, my parents and the general state of crazy humor, it can be a bit bizarre for the uninitiated. However it's relatively tame compared to how it used to be. In years past the holidays would have also included my two grandmothers, who are polar opposites of one another.
My Danish grandmother from my father's side was a demure woman of excellent manners who wore the same outfit for virtually every Christmas I can remember (a dark aqua ruffled blouse with one of several necklaces received from her granddaughters, and black slacks). My mother's mother, on the other hand.... she was a German grandmother to the very definition, who was quite fond of her cocktails and reminding each family member of each and every one of his/her respective shortcomings ("Erica, I'm so proud of you for graduating from college. I never thought you'd get that far, you know." "Thanks, grandma, that's lovely."). It was probably revenge for our behavior as children, when all of us cousins would sit outside during the summer and giggle like chipmunks as we took turns imitating her inebriated behavior while shouting at each other, "God damn it Fritz, help me up!" and pretending to fall down on the lawn. Weren't we just peaches? That's okay, she only got meaner as the years went by. The truth is, she was equally mean to her own kids when they were growing up, so I can take no credit whatsoever for her vitriolic sense of family affection.
Perhaps she was just an outlandish example of the dry humor the rest of us have heartily embraced. My 5 year old 2nd cousin asked me last night, "Where is the Christmas tree?" When I pointed out the 3-ft tree sitting on a coffee table, she looked puzzled and wondered why we didn't have a bigger one. My mom then grumpily explained that my father doesn't like Christmas (total crap, btw) and decorating is too much work. After that comment my father seemed out to prove her right, and I caught him later telling my little cousin that "Sometimes we give the presents back to Santa and he gives them to other little kids next year." Fortunately my dad is a total cream puff with kids and she was smart enough to catch the twinkle in his eye and make a saucy comment back. Just what we need, a traumatized year old who thinks she isn't getting any presents!
If you embrace the fam, it's a wild and lovely ride. Traditions pass from grandparents on down, and the Tom and Jerry's and Norwegian fish cakes generally make their welcome appearance. (don't ask for the recipe, I won't give it to you, LOL). Tomorrow Christmas will be over and this year will be relegated to memory, the year when dad tried to tell Clara we give back the Christmas presents and I lined up the Tom and Jerry mugs for a photo shoot. The year Kitty gave me a hand-painted portrait of Diva and Dante drove everyone crazy on Christmas Eve because his frisbee was forgotten at home. The year when my mom bought my dad the "ShamWow" as a massive family joke, and my sisters took pity on me and bought me gift cards for a new washer and dryer. And the year Don drove all the way back from Wyoming in a day so he could spend Christmas day with us and discuss cleaning guns with my father for hours on end while the rest of us sprawled in front of the fireplace with Weez, Tuck-tuck, Big Digs and Kent (sorry, dalmations don't get cute nick-names).
On that image, I wish you all a very happy holiday season and I hope that you're enjoying your family time as much as I am. Love you, guys!
-Erica.
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