Do it for the joy...

Long week. Work nights. Study days. I realize all that's really happening is that my butt is trading chairs. Sometimes I think I could work nights, but then a morning spent at home makes me think I really don't care if I work at all. Seriously. If I could have enough money and insurance to live well I'd spend my free-time weeding my flower beds, making pie, doing laundry and volunteering for noble causes. And when I volunteer I can say I've had enough and then go home for the day. Only to return with a bright, sunny attitude the next day. I've been working full-time (mostly for newspapers) since I was 21. Now as the 10-year mark approaches I think I would miss it, but not that much. Is there something in you at 30 that slows down and says this is OK? Cause that's where I am. Working nights is most unproductive and studying days is way too productive. I'm about to embark on a new career path and I wonder if I'm just pissing in the wind. Do I give up what I've achieved here or in journalism because I want a job that is different, even if that means starting out by answering phones and making coffee, trying to prove myself again? What's in this for me? Do I have the stamina?

"Would you prefer the easy way? Well, Ok, don't cry." - Ani DiFranco.

Who's listening?

So, I'm setting up a blog. A facebook, a twitter, and a flickr page. But who does all this technology serve. Is it for me? To document my life? Is for the strangers who happened upon it and then use it in news stories when I lose my mind and steal ice cream? Really, who is all this for? Is it akin to hieroglyphics, our paintings on the walls of caves to remind people with a trail of metadata that we were here. We thought. We felt, we struggle. Is it for me? Is this online journaling supposed to help me better understand life and where I fit in to it all?

I'm not sure. I'm guessing we've evolved into compulsive creatures who to share every thought or blurb through a text message to a variety of Web sites. I'm still trying to figure out where updating all the various sites fits in my list of daily tasks. I like the idea of a blog and love to read other people's blog. It's like peeping in their windows. But is there a point when all becomes meaningless?

When my grandmother died we went through her things. She kept a daily journal for most of her life. Some of the entries in the slim calendar books were cryptic, "drank Pepsi," or "Cubs lost." While brief we get an idea of what her days were like and what was important to her. We still have the journals and still sometimes go through them. Will twitter posts and others hold the same meaning? A flimsy printout doesn't embody the same sense of history. But maybe that's the difference. Even when we stop producing, there is a live and dynamic version of us on the Web. Is there a shelf life for such things?

I can't claim Luddite privileges and put my head in the sand. Afterall, I did meet my husband on myspace.

The fine art of pinning

Sorry folks, as if any of you are reading, but I've been without a computer. Once we three computers. Then there were none. A friend is trying to fix our old computer, but that will require a new motherboard. Mother what?? So I keep waiting to post pictures. Doing a blog on a work computer feels deviant enough.

We've had a bramble in front of our house for nearly a month now. It's all the debris and limbs that were broken during the ice storm. I've got a tree out there. The pile is larger than my car. The birds are loving it. Brush and limbs, plenty of things to scoot around on and catch. Hopefully the mice are NOT finding a home it in. But my neighborhood is slowly coming together. The city crews have been in the boulevard clearing out splintered and broken limbs from the top of the gazebo and fountain.

We've been in full tilt wedding planning. After spending the morning trying on various styles of undergarments at the bridal store, I finally something that would work, and dropped my dress off at the tailors for alterations. That was scary. That must be what people feel like when they leave their children at daycare for the first time. I've had that dress in my care for several months. Occasionally I get it out and try it on. I check on it, is it still in the closet...yes.

So when I left it with Kim Hoa, I felt like I had left an arm at her store.
"I call you in two weeks," she said as she whisked the dress away.

"Oh, ok. Thank you."

These were our parting words as I left the dress in her care, wondering about the state of her insurance. Whether they had smoke detectors in the shop. If those old sewing machines she worked on were subject to burning up in a huff. Kim Hoa is a small Asian woman. She wears a white coat, like a nurse...only for garments and ill-fitting pants. Her shoes were Velcro sneakers that probably came from a huge discount store. Her eyebrows were painted on..that's where I see as she pins me, talking with a thick accent and pins in her mouth. I realize in my heels that I'm taller, way taller, than she is and I'm staring right at her eyebrows. When I walked in with the dress, she showed me a tiny dressing room in the front room of her shop.

"Ask me if you need help," she said.

I stumble around to put the dress, for nearly the fourth time that morning. Finally I come out, shoes, proper undergarments, except for a black bra hanging out. It looks great, and I'm a little melancholy that nobody else is here to see it, except a 10-year and her mom waiting to have jeans altered.

"Oh, you need to have cups in," she says. "Take this off, so we can see."

With that she unhooks my bra and I pull out from the sleeve of the dress, like I'm changing for middle school gym, but I'm in the front of her shop.
"Ummhmmm. Yes, this is too big."
More pins. I cringe. Please don't snag the beautiful dress.

It's on this day, however, this lovely unseasonable warm day in January that I realize, I'm getting married, very soon and it's going tobe pretty. The cake will taste sweet and the bubbly will go down without a hitch. The dress, the groom, the cake. That's all I really need, well and of course a few shots afterward.

Babies, babies, babies

How could I forget??? The past year was a great one for the babies. In my circle there were four new babies in 2007. Keep on trucking little mamas.

There were nearly that many engagements in my circle of friends as well. So I'm calling 2008, year of the weddings.

Soon enough I will figure out how to post photos and you can see all the gooey baby and wedding stuff you ever wanted. I'm already taking bets at who is next on the rock road...and who will be first in the baby making. Nobody's holding their breath on that one.

Oh, and also...I've been doing Weight Watchers since July and hit my goal weight today!! Watch out Jane Fonda....I'm gonna aerobocize you!!

2007, part duex

Ok, I better hurry up and put the rest of the year into perspective before it gets away from me.

April was a big fun. I had a shiny rock on my finger to take home to visit the family for my cousin's baby shower. Perfect timing Mr. Mark, the ladies of my family sufficiently swooned and the wedding planning began in full tilt. There were guest lists to be made. Colors to pick, places to book, dresses to try on and cake to taste.



I must admit, I waded into the pool or wedding planning with a little trepidation. I've been in many weddings and seen even the most level-headed bride to be turn into a raving lunatic hours before her wedding. It seemed scary and made the idea of a destination wedding really attractive...for a minute. While destination weddings have their place and are certainly require minimal planning, we didn't want to deprive our families of a bash. Especially my nephews (and brother) who have been known to dance the night away.



Alas, a church wedding and reception bash were the plan. Signed, sealed and ready. Here we go. I also got my wedding dress in April. I approached dress shopping with as much zest as a chef might go after an onion. Get it over with. I know, it could have been a prolonged magical event. I knew what I didn't want so that narrowed the field significantly. I couldn't imagine myself in a dress that was wider than a doorway. I didn't need magic. This ain't no disco. I spent a week looking at a bridal mag -- and then bought the second dress I tried on. It was one of the few dresses on the rack in my size. My mom thought it would be a good point of reference. Turns out it was. The references were great and I said let's get it. She was flabbergasted, but I think relieved at the same time. There would be no multiple dress shopping trips, no meeting in Dallas or Chicago to scout out dresses. Here it was. Wrapped up and ready to go. Scratch that off the list.



The summer was spent getting my Beau's house ready to sell and redoing my hardwood floors. We lived in his house for week while the floors were getting stripped, sanded and refinished. It's sad when most of your worldly possessions fit into the kitchen, stacked ceiling high. Earlier in the summer I had a garage sale and sold the couch and loveseat that came from my dad's basement. It serve me well, but it was time for a change. Too bad we're still using the futon I bought for $100 from a friend who was moving when I lived in Texas.



In July, my Beau and I combined households. I think this was most painful for him. Records were sold. CD and clothing discarded. I'm still going through mine. But since then we've lived in a state of chaos. One room is filled with boxes of books and clothes. Another room (still filled with crap) is where we and the two dogs sleep. Doesn't seem right. I think we're finally addressing it, and trying to get things organized. This has been nearly as stressful as planning a wedding.



In September we hit the road to see the Beastie Boys on the final night of their North American tour. On the shores of Lake Michigan we beatboxed and bobbed. My bro and his wife had a rare night without children and went with us. Holla at yo' boy. That trip also included a visit to scooterworks...where are Stella scooters were born. Very underwhelming and exciting at the same time. Is that possible? Got some chrome accessories that we've yet to put on the bikes. Sadly, they stayed stabled all fall. That's not acceptable.



Winter was good. We went to Lake Wister for Mark's birthday and took in the fall colors. It was nice to get out of town and remember what it was like when we were just dating. Not worrying about yours, mine and ours. We also made a trip home for Thanksgiving. My family through the first of our wedding showers...fun, fun. You don't realize how much stuff you might need until you spend the day at Macy's just putting things on a registry. Surely we need more kitchen stuff?



Mark's house was still for sale. Two house payments for one person is too much. We both got holiday retail jobs. I'm at Pier I, he's at the dreaded mall. We made it through December, a little worse for the wear, but I think we're recovering. Often we were working 18 hour days, while happy shoppers were oblivious and sometimes rude. But after all that, the house has sold. Well, I say sold while holding my breath. We still need to get the papers signed over ...and then we'll have some money again.



So we start 2008, older and wiser. My only hope is that this year will be less chaotic than last, but that's probably a little too optimistic.



I promise not to be so long-winded in 2008. A year is a lot to take stock of.

2007 in Review, Part 1

I've been compiling notes for end of the year highlights in the news industry. Crime, punishment, and of course we can't forget disasters -- which we have all grown so used to here in Oklahoma. Frozen power lines, flooded roads, toppled trees and ruined infrastructure. It was a tough year for my resident state.

As 2007 leaves us, waving goodbye with a blast of flurries and cold, I think it will be a year that will always stick out in my personal timeline.

I'll admit, I didn't keep very good track of what was happening in my life, or my own reflections on it. I'm going to try to do better with that in 2008, cause otherwise I'm just watching the days pass me by like pages torn from a book on a blustery day. I wish I knew the exact date when things happened and how I was feeling about them at the time.

But the highlights in brief:

Rang in the New Year in Austin, Texas, with great friends at a bar my friend for college wanted to go to because there wouldn't be any "Abercrombie Kids there." Also spent time with great friends in Austin as they prepared for their March wedding. We had started our trip to Austin with a car crammed full of camping gear and a dog in the back seat. We had fully intended to spend a night in a campground somewhere in scenic north Texas. Then the weather took a violent turn. Raindrops the size of oranges pelted the car, and then the announcer on the radio said the county were we planned to stay was under a tornado watch. Not good when you're planning to sleep on the ground in a tent. But the storm was beautiful as it moved across the flat north Texas horizon. Rain coming sheets, the front moved through as we traveled into the dark, forgetting our plans to become one with nature.



While at a book store in Austin we ran into my first newspaper boss and a reporter we all suspected he had a relationship with. That was awkward. While trying to get away from them I stumbled into the poetry section and bought a Pablo Neruda poetry book, to which my beau exclaimed, "I don't get what he's trying to say." Poetry can be so vague and frustrating all at once. I believe these poems, read out loud to my beau in Spanish and English while sitting in Austin traffic, sparked his interest in learning Spanish. I like to think that any way.



"Speechless, my friend, alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead and filled with the lives of fire, pure heir of the ruined day. "



Valentine's Day was snowy and cold. Chocolate fondue, fruit, jazz music was a perfect combo.

On we March. My beau and I celebrated our one year anniversary, with lunch and a rushed exchange of gifts in the car. Honestly, I don't remember what I gave him. I was so blown away by his gift that all recollection of what happened next was gone. We were in the car, he had picked me up for lunch. I'm sure I was grouchy, having been at work and all. After lunch, he handed me a box. A box...from a jeweler...could this be....Mind you, we had talked about marriage and I was excited about the prospect, but I was really hoping he wasn't trying to repeat our first kiss by proposing in the car too....

It was a diamond necklace with three oh-so-sparkly stones. I felt fabulous wearing it. It was such a lavish gift, unlike anything I had ever received and from a man who knew what he wanted. What a refreshing change from all the chapters that came before him. To celebrate the necklace, I wore a lot of black, so the stones would pop out. I stared at its reflection while driving, distracted by something so lux.

It was such a wonderful feeling to know that I was with someone who was honest, straightforward and interested in acting on his feelings. Moving with purpose is what I'd like to call it. I turned 29 in 2007 and suddenly things started to feel like they were falling into place, precisely.

I had an inkling my beau was going to propose. We went ring shopping. I was breathless. In all my years of dating, I given a lot of lip service to marriage and commitment, but never actually been to a jewelers trying on sparkly rings at the glass counters under the hot lights. Some of those rings were worth my than my car. I felt like a theif just having them on. Something would surely happen to the $12,000 ring during the 10 seconds it was on finger, I was sure of it.

Arriving at the mall that day to meet my beau, I was short of breath and sweat was pooling in my armpits. Did he really mean it? Was this just a show of his commitment? A crumb to throw a girlfriend who had expounded on the virtues of marriage? A cruel joke?

My beau doesn't have that sort of venom in him. He's pure, honest and his intentions are clear. He knows what he wants. He isn't skiddish, and he follows through. Easter morning he proposed. Clues led me to my Easter basket filled with soccer socks (which have someone been lost in less than a year) and other goodies. I'm reading the notes, and suddenly he's down on one knee...his hands are shaking... and I'm thinking to myself, Here it is. The moment that has eluded me all my life. Act excited. Act excited. Muster a tear.

He asked me to marry him in Spanish. I like to think Pablo Neruda had something to do with it. My language of love. And I said yes... yes...yes!! And the ring. Wow. Mind you, my beau is a student with a student income. But somehow he managed to sell enough plasma to get a ring that lights up rooms a

We spent nearly the whole morning trying to take pictures that would adequately show are joy. Pictures that would some how capture the excitement and potential of the third entity of us...a bright, shiny, new thing....and one with strings attached. We've got about 20 pictures or two people trying to fit their faces into a frame without the aid of photographer. They're laughable really. But they show our fresh-faced, earnest excitement.

That gets us through April. I turned 29, that month too. I nearly forgot my own birthday as we were both headlong into planning a wedding and trying to decide what sort of cake or flowers would define our love for each other. I'm sure it was a great time. I felt like I had already received the best present, some one who wanted to spend the rest of their life with me -- good or bad.

Crushed Ice

I'm starting this a few days after an ice storm left me without power and destroyed trees across my city. It is my city, afterall. I've here five years -- nearly longer than I've lived anywhere in my life. Seems strange that I never expected to be here longer than a year or two. Oh how life changes.



Anyway, I'm looking at blog as my personal-yet-public journal. I need to start thinking or acting on creative thoughts and this is one to force myself to act on the impulse to create. It's tough when there are 100 things to do in a day, but yet so simple. Don't expect great things at first. I'm trying to even imagine an audience for this thing. But both feet are in. Here goes.