Category: Memoir

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Beginnings Being a girl cars Drew Endings Humor Love Memoir Nature Nonfiction Sentiment Travel

#tbt: Moving back to California

Five years ago, Drew and I packed up most of our New York stuff, and drove back to California.

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Thank God Jared was staying in the apartment, so there was a lot of stuff we could just leave – like our bed, couches, rugs, etc.

We basically packed all night while watching Roseanne. In the morning, Joe came over to help us load up the van.

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Also thank God we casually said, “Yeah, let’s upgrade to the largest size van you have.” We needed every square inch of space.

It took us three nights to get home, driving pretty much all the time. We were also doing Atkins at the time, so we weren’t even really stopping to eat very much…I’m not sure how we passed the time. I remember at some point we started playing Lingo out loud, and for awhile we listened to Rent…

I also took a lot of pictures out the passenger side window, so there’s a lot of semi-blurry landscape with window reflections. This was pre-smartphone.

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(I’m pretty sure Drew took that picture.)

When we got to Nevada, we wanted to drive through to Reno so we could crash with Molly. But Nevada is insanely wide, and neither of us could keep our eyes open. So our final night on the road was spent in Elko, Nevada.

The next day, I drove us across the state line into California, and later Drew and I realized that whenever we’re in a car together, he may say “Do you want to drive?” to be nice, but I generally never do, and he generally always wants to. So now we don’t worry about taking turns to be nice to each other. A good lesson for our impending marriage.

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It’s been FIVE YEARS since we came back. New York is drifting further and further away from us. But it’s still an indisputable part of our lives and of our relationship. I think a reunion may be in order.

 

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Awesome Children Drew Family Friends Love Memoir Nonfiction Religion Travel

Baptized B

B’s second birthday is coming up, so this baptism thing has been a long time in coming. We procrastinated for various reasons, but finally this spring we made the decision to go for it. This last weekend, my family and Drew’s family gathered at my childhood church and saved B from purgatory. (Just kidding.)

I will tell you, I had A LOT of anxiety leading up to this weekend. I worried about getting the three of us plus the godparents all the way up to Lake County in our car with all our stuff. I worried that B would freak at getting water on his head. I worried that it would be awkward. I worried that no one really wanted to be doing this. I worried that no one would have a good time.

But it turns out, everyone was into it, and we had a great time. We went up to my parents’ house on Saturday night, and Drew’s parents and my aunt and uncle (who was performing the baptism) were there already. We hung out that night, keeping B up 2 hours past his bedtime. Then everyone dispersed, and we took godparents Erin and Allen to the hotel casino where they were staying.

There, we ran into Drew’s parents, and found out that his dad had just hit it big on video keno. So that was a nice bonus.

The next morning, we picked up Erin and Allen, and headed to the church, about 20 minutes away. The service was outdoors (#summertime!) and so B spent most of the service running all around, up some stairs and around the church building, up some other stairs and around the community center, basically just going everywhere possible. But luckily we were keeping an eye on the time, so we could get him back down in the vicinity of the service by the time the baptism began.

I held him during the ceremony, and he was mostly good. He complained a little bit, but mostly drank milk and pointed at things. I remembered the Creed. He didn’t love the water on his head, but he didn’t freak out. My uncle gave him a candle (unlit), and a medallion. We recessed and sang songs. We did it!

There was cake afterwards, and Erin and I tried to wrangle all the family members into place to take pictures. We managed to take some really cute pictures, including one of my new favorite pictures:

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Charming, buddy. Charming.

After pictures, we packed everyone up and we all went to go eat. Well, most of them went to brunch – our car, followed by Drew’s family’s cars, went in the wrong direction. I just was mistaken about where I was going. Oops!

We found the correct place, and settled in for complimentary mimosas and brunch. Although they didn’t really seem able to handle our party of 15 – it took like an hour between ordering and getting our food – the food was good, the company was lovely, and B was awesome. He even ate the food we ordered him! Crazy!

By the time we were done, it was already after 1:30, so we just stopped by my parents’ house to get all our stuff, and then we headed out of Lake County. (Well, we stopped for milkshakes at Renee’s first.) We got home that night in time for dinner and bedtime, and then Drew and I basically crashed, ignoring the pile of stuff we’d brought home.

A long weekend and we’re both ever more tired, but I’m still so happy with how everything went. It honestly went better than I could have hoped, and far better than I expected. A total win. B is so lucky to have this loving family, and two brand-new godparents! (Not pictured: my bff Kirsten, who came out from Davis, and her mom – I was so honored to have them come support us!)

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Awesome Being a girl Fashion Friends Holidays Humor Love Memoir Nonfiction

A Ring in Every Candle

This year, I’ve been one of those obnoxious girls with a “birthday week” – I just got lucky I suppose. From a party at work to a much-anticipated child-free dinner out, from besties sending unexpected presents to our luxurious night away while my parents babysat. It’s been a great birthday week.

One such unexpected present arrived on Wednesday.

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It’s a candle that smells like birthday cake, and somewhere inside of the candle is a gold-foil-wrapped ring, which is worth anywhere from $10 to $5000. You have to burn it to find the ring, and this is a pretty hefty candle – I’m guessing it’ll take hours of burning to get to the buried treasure.

The card didn’t have a name or a return address listed – just a gift message that said, “Happy 30th! I think our 30s are going to be awesome.”

I texted the person who told me she had sent me something in the mail – but it wasn’t from her.

I texted the person who was most likely to have found a product like this on the internet – but it wasn’t from her.

I texted some of the girlfriends I could think of who are thoughtful enough to send a birthday gift – but it wasn’t from any of them.

I texted my brother (sort of a last resort) – but it wasn’t from him.

So my question is: who sent me this diamond ring candle?

(And will I get one of the elusive $5000 rings?)

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Memoir Nonfiction Work

Beware the Freight Elevator

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day! 
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

-From The Road Not Taken

Remember when I went into a whole Robert Frost thing? And made a big deal about new paths and making decisions and striking out?

My time to “come back” came sooner than I expected. Today is my last day at my “new” job. To that end, I’ve spent the last couple days finishing things, cleaning up things, and putting away things that have been basically scattered over my desk the entire time I’ve been here. There have been many post-luncheon tasks to accomplish, and I’m proud to say that I think I’ve actually (almost) accomplished them all.

The one I’ve been putting off for three days, was taking the leftover wine from the event on Tuesday down to our storage space in the basement. That’s the “did-do” I’m singling out for today.

I didn’t NEED help getting down there, so while I’ve been down the creepy freight elevator to the creepier basement multiple times, this was my first (and last) solo trip. Yes, I told someone I was going, and I made sure to take my phone. (Not that I know if it would work down there.)

When I opened the door to the storage space, I definitely heard something scurry away. I’m not afraid of rats, per se, but I don’t want to cuddle them either.

To be honest, from start to finish, this entire errand took about 10 minutes. I gleefully crossed it off my list of things to do before 5pm today. A good choice for Friday the 13th.

Take wine to basement

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Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment Technology Writing

Throwback Thursday: Graduation

Graduate college  ✓
Become an Adult  ✓
Fight with technology  ✓
Get up super early  ✓

30-year-old Me laughs right in 22-year-old Me’s face.

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So cute. Enjoy it (everything) while you can, 22-year-old Me!

 

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Baby Beginnings Children Drew Memoir Nonfiction

First day of daycare

This is a huge milestone. The moment we’ve been leading up to for (at least) the last year.

Some background: I went back to work (4 days a week) just before B turned 3 months old. And since then, he’s been watched primarily by Drew’s parents, which has been one of those things that we are afraid we are taking for granted, but we try to remember to be grateful every day. So let me just say on the record, I am so thankful for Drew’s parents for taking on the majority of weekday childcare, and also for my parents for making the trek down here so frequently to babysit.

I couldn’t imagine leaving B with a daycare provider when he was 3 months old. I know people do it, and I admire that, but we are lucky and didn’t have to. I’m so happy we had family who could watch him. As he got older, it was an issue of finding somewhere we could take him that we could trust and afford and where we would feel comfortable leaving our most precious possession. It also became harder, as the months went by, to give up our free family daycare.

But we knew that he would probably really like to be around other kids more often, and he could learn a lot from them. We’re always impressed with what our friends’ kids seem to pick up from daycare, and it seemed like we were kind of missing out on that. Our pediatrician has stressed the importance of playdates, especially since B isn’t in daycare, and we understand how important socialization is at this age.

A couple weeks ago, we met with a woman (we’ll call her Alicia) who does in-home daycare for 3s and under, and we really like her. She comes highly recommended by members of Drew’s family, which makes me feel good. She has 4 other kids right now, who come on various days of the week, although one is about to “graduate” to preschool. Another one is 6 months old. Two of the kids are just right around B’s age, and when we went to meet her, he had a great time playing with them.

We decided to do two days a week, and today is the first of those days. All morning I kept telling him how lucky he is, that he gets to go play with other kids today, and he’s going to have so much fun. I dropped him off at 8am, and he walked right into the house and then started running around the living room, climbing on the couch, and talking to the girl who was already there. He seemed happy and totally not shy. I passed off all of his stuff to Alicia, gave him hugs and kisses goodbye, and then she took both kids to go find some toys in the other room, and I left.

Honestly, I have to say I did better than I expected. I hope he is also doing well. Every parent knows this is a rough day. We just have to get through the first few days of a new thing, and then everything will be great. Still, if you want to send me good vibes today, it’d be much appreciated…haha.

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Beginnings Being a girl Drew Humor Love Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment Writing

Throwback Thursday: Last will and testament

I wanted to find a good tbt blog post from my old livejournal. But most of them are just…incredibly embarrassing. I went back to April of 2004, because I thought that’d be cool, but man. I was so not cool. Everything is so angsty, and it’s all music or book references, and I basically cannot get through a post without berating myself for being “not pretty” or something. Yikes.

So, I skipped ahead to April of 2005, when things were really starting to look up. And I found this.

tbt blog post

And I thought, Still embarrassing, but it’s young love, and I’ve always been cheesy, and at that point it’s not like my livejournal was something I censored or worried about other people reading, so okay. And then I clicked on the 5 comments and saw a comment from me saying, “I DID NOT WRITE THIS! That would be Drew.”

So, this week’s tbt blog post is brought to you by 2005 Drew…which is a lot like 2014 Drew but with fewer responsibilities and access to my online journal.

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"Other people" Drew Humor Memoir Nonfiction Travel Work

Exhibiting bad manners in public

I arrived at the BART station yesterday morning and walked casually down the platform. I was just approaching one of the pre-walking marks on the ground when I noticed something strange. Looking up and down the platform, I saw single-file lines, with maybe 3 or 4 feet between each person, lined up in front of where the train doors would land. The people in these lines were reading newspapers, or looking at their phones.

Standing near the edge of the platform, I kept studying the lines. When did this happen?

I texted Drew: “Is it a bart manners thing to line up single file to wait for the train? Everyone is doing it here but I’ve never seen that before. Can I just stand near where the door will be or do I have to line up?”

He wrote back: “Yeah, it’s the opposite of the NY cluster.”

That’s what I’m used to…people pushing and shoving to get through the doors first. That’s what I’m comfortable with. Is that sick?

I said: “But…a single file line? I don’t like it. =( And now I realize I’ve been that beezy cutting lines the whole time?”

Then he called me a NY a-hole and I laughed out loud, and the train came, and while I didn’t push and shove to get on, I definitely didn’t wait for the line to go first, and then I camped out near the doors. So I’m definitely that bad-manners BART person who you glare at during your morning commute. Sorry about that! It’s been mostly inadvertent up until now.

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Books cars Humor Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment Work

Throwback Thursday: Public Transpo

In honor of my new routine of taking BART to work, I’m throwing back to an NYC subway post from my LiveJournal. This post hails from Feb 23, 2009.

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I just need to marry someone who has good vision coverage…

This morning on the train a manly man got on and stood next to me. While glancing over his shoulder (bored) I noticed he was reading a paperback copy of In Her Shoes. This delighted me secretly and I admired him for his casual reading of chick lit on a crowded New York subway. Glancing over again, I saw one of the chapter headings: “A Harder Task Than Making Bricks Without Straw.” Hmm, that doesn’t really sound like Jennifer Weiner. I squinted closer at the book title in italics on the top of the left-hand page. Up From Slavery. (It’s the autobiography of Booker T Washington. I looked it up on Amazon.)

I think I might need a new contact prescription.

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Food Holidays Memoir Nonfiction Religion Self improvement Writing

The special beans

I gave up chocolate for Lent this year. It hasn’t been too bad so far. It’s only been 9 days. Only 35 more days to go. (Or something like that.)

There’s plenty of other sweet stuff that I can find to try to fill the void. Including (but not limited to) dried pineapple, popsicles, and vanilla lattes. It’s both a blessing and a curse. (PS. It doesn’t completely fill the void. I cannot wait for post-Easter half-priced Robin Eggs.)

Every year I ponder Lent – what exactly is the reason that I’m giving something up? I have to re-justify what I’m doing, and figure out how to frame it. I have read different theories for how the tradition came about, and I think that the one that suits me best, and makes the most sense, is that I’m making a sacrifice, albeit small, to honor God’s sacrifice for me.

So even if giving up chocolate feels like a superficial thing to do, I suppose there’s a point to it. I don’t know if I’ll necessarily come out the other side of this a better person, but all introspection is good introspection, and I’ve never heard of someone regretting going 6 weeks without eating chocolate.

Now if only my coworkers would stop leaving bowls of it out on their desks all day…