Archive | February, 2012

Preludes and Words.

29 Feb

I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.

My favorite line from a favorite poem, Preludes by T.S. Eliot. I remember when I first read this poem. This line took my breath away, then.

Tonight, it made me cry.

***

It was the summer after my Freshman year of college. I decided to stay up at school with my boyfriend at the time, and on the weekends, we would take long drives on quiet roads through the center of the state. We’d visit state parks, small sandy patches of land, lakes or ponds or rivers, I am now not sure what they were. I would drive, and it would be sunny, and he would sit in the passenger seat, his legs stretched out and resting on the dashboard, and he would read to me. We had bought a stack of big, old books for one dollar at a flea market: “The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway” and “Great American Short Stories” and some other anthologies, all faded and mustard yellow or brown. And he would read these stories out loud, a wonderful storyteller, he was.Roman Fever. The Most Dangerous Game. Hills Like White Elephants.And I fell in love. With the characters. And the backdrops. And every surprise. And every nuance. Every word.

***

Today, my husband sent me a message on is way to work; He had just read a passage in his book that made him stop and marvel. He read it to me, tonight, in bed, and it was like he was painting for me as he recited the words. Velvety words. Evocative imagery. It was beautiful. And it made me want to read my favorite poem. So, I read Preludes.

And I cried.

And I fell in love all over again.

The greatest things.

28 Feb

Today, I experienced two of the greatest things.

First, I saw this:

(image via)

and it was like all of the stars aligned into the world’s most extraordinary moment. Nothing so perfect could actually exist, surely.

My mom and I watched the Les Miz Flash Mob from last night’s episode of “It’s a Brad Brad World” with our mouths agape, eyes wet with tears and chills running up and down our arms. Actual goosebumps. The best thing I’ve ever seen.

And I could not stop saying so. And then I started plotting how to get Gary to leave Brad for me, so that maybe, just maybe, in 10 years, we would be sitting outside at our Anniversary party, and I’d be waiting for his dry, pithy toast, when, out of nowhere, the piano intro to “La Vie Bohemme” would come cascading from between the trees, as my slew of most talented friends would make their way to the stage…

And then, this happened:

So, yeah, he’s totally mine.

And, as a side note to my current husband: If you ever want to know what my most perfect birthday present ever would be

see above.

#febphotoaday/28

28 Feb

28. Money

A 7-year-old bottle of Essie Nailpolish

in Castaway.

purchased at the fabulous El Corte Ingles. In Barcelona. With Euros. European Monday.

And, seven years later,  when I catch a glimpse of this color on my toes

I am brought back to Placa Catalunya,

to the Barca Spring,

walking in my Espadrilles

and becoming a big girl.

And, seven years later, the polish still works. And looks as good as ever.

So, yeah, that’s just MONEY.

#febphotoaday/25

25 Feb

25. Green

Because, you know…

it ain’t easy.

Feb Photo Hooray!

25 Feb

Yesterday’s #febphotoaday was my favorite yet, and thank you to everyone who got in on the fun.

It has been voyeurism at it’s finest and I’ve so enjoyed seeing what is inside your bathroom cabinet.

And I’m totally judging you.

Truly, though, it has been a blast, and if you haven’t checked out some of the Facebook posts, please visit our Mommy, Ever After page to do some serious stalking. Come on. You know you like to stalk.

And you get bonus points if you post your own photo.*

Come on, it’s what the cool kids are doing.

*Bonus points are in the form of pink cupcakes, sparkly shoes and undying love and affection.

#febphotoaday/24

24 Feb

24. Inside Your Bathroom Cabinet

Now, i’m used to sharing many personal things on here,

but this…

this is intimacy, folks.

And here you have it. Now you know why my skin smells like patchouli and coconut, that I hoard bottles of Secret Spring Breeze deoderant (because they’ve discontinued the original, a scent that I lived for in eighth grade) and that I have recently begun waging a war against eye wrinkles (until about 15 minutes ago, my nighttime skin routine involved washing my face with a bar of Dove Sensitive Skin soap and then moisturizing with Cetaphil lotion. Baby steps, peeps. Baby steps.)

And as a side note, this is one photo I would love to see responses to. If you’d be so kind,

so open,

so brave,

I’d love for you to post a response with a photo of your own bathroom cabinet. I am always on the look out for new, great products.

And hoarders.

Can’t wait to see whatchyu got!

With all of the things I worry about…

23 Feb

Last week in school, my daughter’s class shared the indoor play area with the Pre-K. I was so tickled to see many of the older girls fawning over my daughter, as they held her hand and walked her around, pushed her in a play car and even taught her some of their games.

But my daughter, fearless and determined, wanted to hula hoop. So, she marched over to one of the little five-year-old boys and grabbed his hoop. And he was happy to share. He let her get it in with him and helped her to try to figure it out.

And this whole thing made me smile.

And then, yesterday came, and my daughter and I had to walk through that same Pre-K classroom in order to get to the playground.

And when the little boy spotted us, he ran in our direction.

“Hey,” he called to me,

eager to get my attention.

“Is she old enough to Skype?”

This five year old was asking me if he could video chat with my daughter.

So, with all the things I worry about,

all of the things that keep me up at night and give me bouts of The Cray,

I never expected that having to ward off older boys from my 22 month old

would be one of them.

Oh, Scott.

23 Feb

You’re right. You’re always right.

Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke.
  -F. Scott Fitzgerald

And, noted.

#febphotoaday/23

23 Feb

23. Your Shoes

So, I was all prepared to use this photo:

Because a) these were actually the shoes I wore this morning as we took a sunny stroll around the neighborhood and

b) I was actually outside, walking.

I know.

My sneakersliterallyhad dust on them.

But, then, my daughter walked into my closet and said, “Ooooh, mommy shoes. Pretty.”

She’s got killer timing, no?

So, I felt obligated to show you what she thought I should post.

And those sparkly jellies in the top spot? They were my other new somethings, the ones I wore after I became a Mrs, and needed to get down in some more practical boogie shoes. And for me, bedazzled=practical.

So, I kind of cheated today, didn’t I?
So what. Sue me.

(Just don’t take my shoes.)

#febphotoaday/22

22 Feb

22. Where you work.

Because a place without glittery butterflies is no place for me.

I mean…

21 Feb

Not only does this girlie girl insist upon accessorizing,

but she even chose to do so with feathers.

She’s a keeper, she is.

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