First, for some general housekeeping, I just want to let you all know that I am in the midst of re-laying-out my blog. Not re-designing really, because I don't know anything about designing anyone or anything. But I'm going to change my format and layout and banner and all of that. I don't know why I'm telling you, other than that everyone seems to warn everyone when things are changing, so I just wanted to do my part.
OK!
This weekend was lovely. On Friday night I had this romantic notion of my Saturday morning being spent out on our back patio with my new San Diego Zoo mug, drinking tea and knocking out some freelance assignments while the sun rose and birds sang and flutes serenaded me. So I did that, except it was 400 degrees. I still drank tea out of that mug and I sweat like a Bikram yogi, while Aaron cut the grass and Jethro un-gracefully rolled around in it but I loved it.
After giving Jet a bath, some cleaning and a trip to the gym I picked up some groceries and came back home. As Aar was helping me bring the bags in from the car, he noticed I had bought brand-name paper towels and decided to exclaim, with arms to the sky and eyebrows to the ceiling, WE ARE MIDDLE CLASS NOW! And then he gave me a giant high five and started to dance a little bit, but just a little bit.
I have never bought brand name paper towels, I don't think. I am nervous around money. Around it, with it, without it, etc. It makes me nervous. I can literally pinpoint a memory to you of standing in Claire's at the mall as a wee pre-pubescent and picking out a pair of earrings and then thinking to myself, well, do I want these earrings or do I want to go to a nice college? I can't remember if I chose the earrings or the college but as fate would have it, I earned a free ride to Ohio U, and every now and then I wonder how many more earrings I'd have now if I had known that all along. ANYhoo.
Whenever I'm about to spend money, on say, paper towels, for example, I always imagine what else I could be spending it on. You might think that makes me a wise spender or something nice like that, but really it makes me a hyper-obsessive malcontent for whom grocery shopping is one of Dante's levels. Because seriously? Paper towels? When I could just buy the off-brand ones for three months and then have enough for a pair of Nine West's or an upgrade at a hotel in Fiji?
Anyway I've come to learn after 4 odd years or so of living in my own space that some things you just cannot buy off-brand. Lysol wipes, Windex, bug spray (ouch) and, new to the list, paper towels. There is just no comparing. And 4 years is a sufficient test period, don't you think? So we're a Bounty family now.
Brand-or-no-brand theory notwithstanding, Aaron's exclamation made me laugh but also made me think. We have been so blessed since we moved to Arizona. Ever since those first few paychecks, our income has steadily grown over the past few years, through new jobs and promotions and what have you. But somehow, each time we get a little bump, we find a way to spend it (for the most part.) We have built up a modest savings for rainy and/or pregnant days (I AM NOT PREGNANT I AM MAKING A POINT) and have spent a pretty penny or two on some pretty awesome trips (Ireland, etc.) but for the most part, we spend what we make. Some of it is on paying down student loans, but still. We spend and we spend good.
I've always wondered if we'd reach a point where we'd step back and say ok, if we make any more than we do now, let's just save/give away all of it. Because we don't need to go beyond this point. Our house has a roof and enough rooms for us; our clothes are not falling apart; our bellies are full. Enough.
I think we should reach that point. Whether it's an exact dollar amount or a checklist of needs, we should have a threshold. The hard thing is, I think it's important that we decide on that threshold now before we get there. Otherwise I don't think we'll ever know we're there.
I'm still not sure what it is, but I want to start being intentional about figuring that out. And being able to give a good, Biblical, spirit-led response to why it is what it is. As in, why it includes Mary Kay mineral powder foundation and a yearly family trip to South Carolina. Because I think it will have to include those things.
So what about you? Do you have a threshold? Does it include Bounty paper towels because mine includes Bounty paper towels.
Showing posts with label Aaron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aaron. Show all posts
Monday, June 3, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
Who Aaron Is
The other night we went out to eat with Aaron's mom, who was in town visiting, and his brother Ben. We went to another of Phoenix's hundred million little independent restaurants; another hole-in-the-wall that really isn't, but that I've driven past hundreds of times and never noticed. It was adorable. All dim and warm; clinking dishes, muffled laughter, smelling of garlic and onions and everything wonderful. I loved it.
We sat on the second floor and once I was finished complaining about all the delicious-sounding menu items that were fatally full of gluten and ultimately decided on a less-menacing vegetable stir-fry, we started chatting about our days, as people do. It was a lovely dinner, really. Good food, good people.
I remember when Aaron and I had just gotten engaged. Some hometown friends of his were visiting us, and one of them told us that upon hearing of our engagement, Aaron's ex-girlfriend got very sad and said "Wow, if I were still with Aaron, I'd be getting married right now."
It's like on Say Yes to the Dress when the producers ask the brides - why is your fiance the perfect guy for you? And I understand that the "for you" has some implications but their answers always make me hide under my blanket for that portion of the show. "He just treats me so great! He just gets me! He loves me! He wants to give me everything I want!"
We sat on the second floor and once I was finished complaining about all the delicious-sounding menu items that were fatally full of gluten and ultimately decided on a less-menacing vegetable stir-fry, we started chatting about our days, as people do. It was a lovely dinner, really. Good food, good people.
Aaron still winks at me.
When Aaron has something to say, I listen. And it's because I want to listen. Aaron talks about his day with the simultaneous innocence of someone whom life is happening to, unlike some Big Fella In Charge of All Things, but also with such knowledge and wisdom and insight that it almost makes you self conscious. Like, he knows everything about everything - what could he be thinking of me right now? He is electric. And I love it.
He was no different that night; alternating between sharing the stress of his work day and remembering a funny quote from Family Guy, then beginning to repeat it but stopping himself in the wake of my prudish glare. And he listens the same way - intently; giggling at the right times, indignant at the right times, thoughtful always.
People don't listen like that very much anymore.
And even during that dinner, as our conversations wove around through the four of us, it still felt like Aaron and I were on a different plane. He laughs when he knows what I'm thinking. I laugh when I realize he's laughing because he knows what I'm thinking. He takes a bite of my dinner without asking. I take a bigger bite of his. He grabs my hand under the table.
Sometimes I think about how strictly we tend to relegate people to certain "roles" in our lives. Have you ever noticed how many people, whether on Facebook or in conversation, refer to their significant other as a Role rather than their name? "The hubby and I are going out tonight!" "Going shopping with the boy!" I always cringe at that. Don't you cringe? Doesn't it sound horrible?
I think I spit out my Diet Coke. It was one of the weirdest, and saddest, things I'd ever heard.
Aaron is my husband. He is my best friend, he is my partner, he helps provide for us and he makes decisions for us. But before any of that, and above any of that, to me, he is Aaron. He is not The Husband. He is not "the boy." (EW.) He was not a Place-Holder for the Altar or a Face for my Christmas Card Photo. He is Aaron.
When I said yes to his proposal, it wasn't because I had some life calendar upon which I had written "Get Married at 23" regardless of who I was dating. Neither did he. In fact, before meeting him, I didn't even want to get married that early. I didn't even know if I wanted to get married at all. But then I met Aaron. There would have been no one else.
It's like on Say Yes to the Dress when the producers ask the brides - why is your fiance the perfect guy for you? And I understand that the "for you" has some implications but their answers always make me hide under my blanket for that portion of the show. "He just treats me so great! He just gets me! He loves me! He wants to give me everything I want!"
I just feel so differently! I married Aaron because Aaron is Aaron. He is so kind, and so smart. He is funny. He cares about people. He has integrity. He likes funny TV shows. He likes to be outdoors. He is cute. HE is these things, as Aaron. Obviously I love and appreciate how he loves me, and the impact he has had on my life, and how he makes me better and treats me well. But I love him first and foremost because of him, not who he is to me.
I'm afraid that's what we're teaching ourselves to do - love whomever 'loves' you. It does not matter who they are. Look at everyone else in your life as simply having a role to play. Souls are not important. Actions are - the ones toward you, anyway.
How superficial would that be? How superficial is it already? How selfish is it? And isn't it plausible that THIS is why we're so broken with each other anymore? Why we get divorced so frequently? Why we're so let down when people - regular people; nasty, selfish, lazy sinners just like us - don't Perform their Role like we had expected?
I hope we can stop this, and that we can see people as people; as living, flawed, horrible, wonderful people who sometimes will make our lives better and other times will make them worse but at all times will be themselves and not our property or simply cogs in our wheels. And as having a purpose beyond the one they simply happen to fulfill toward us.
I am guilty of this too. So I will try, too.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Having Fun the AB Way
I'm feeling extra sweet on my sugar sweet husband this morning and so I thought to myself, I should write about it. But then I had a silly thought that I shouldn't, because my blog is supposed to be "funny" or "not too personal" or something like that, but upon reflection I think I'm wrong. Blogs aren't 'supposed' to be anything, much less my blog. I go through phases where I think, "I'll have one of those funny blogs" or "one of those fashiony blogs" or "one of those real deep-thinking blogs" but then I realize that sometimes a girl just wants to write about her painful reaction to a school shooting in one post and then show a picture of a homemade broccoli soup in another. Sometimes I feel cheeky, other times I feel sad, other times I feel like taking an iPhone photo of my toenails. Don't we all?
I think I read too many blogs about blogs, you know what I mean?
So now I'm going to type a few paragraphs about my husband, because I can, and because it will make me smile.
Yesterday we got a new car. ("A NEWWWW CAR!" - Bob Barker) It is fabulous. It's a shiny blue SUV with a bluetooth system and reasonable payments. And we're buying it, not leasing it! Permanence!
As we were driving home calling everyone we know so that we could use the bluetooth, ("Hi Dad! Shut up Dad we have to call someone else") Aaron started talking about how nice it feels to actually make a big purchase. Because it sometimes feels like most 'big things' in our life are on loan... we rent our house, a lot of our furnishings are either leftover from dorm days or are second-hand... you know what I mean. So this brand new car is kind of a rite of passage for us. A Brand, New, CAR! (Bob, it's ok. Take a break.)
While Aaron jabbered on excitedly about this prospect I marveled once again at how hard this dude loves life. Things are Fun for Aaron. You don't understand. Everything is FUN for Aaron. Making waffles! Taking down Christmas decorations! Getting the car washed! LIFE!
It occurs to me that some people may not have spouses like this. Maybe Aaron doesn't have a spouse like this. Maybe sometimes I'm a little too bored. A little too whiny, a little too quiet, a little too ho-hum in proportion to the amazing go-round we're getting. I mean, we're kind of on the pretty princess train, you know? House to live in, nice bed, good jobs, Chipotle on Demand, two families who think we're the bees knees, finances that allow us to visit said families, etc.
Aaron gets this. Aaron knows how to have fun. Aaron IS fun. And I'm lucky.
Go make some waffles!
I think I read too many blogs about blogs, you know what I mean?
So now I'm going to type a few paragraphs about my husband, because I can, and because it will make me smile.
Yesterday we got a new car. ("A NEWWWW CAR!" - Bob Barker) It is fabulous. It's a shiny blue SUV with a bluetooth system and reasonable payments. And we're buying it, not leasing it! Permanence!
As we were driving home calling everyone we know so that we could use the bluetooth, ("Hi Dad! Shut up Dad we have to call someone else") Aaron started talking about how nice it feels to actually make a big purchase. Because it sometimes feels like most 'big things' in our life are on loan... we rent our house, a lot of our furnishings are either leftover from dorm days or are second-hand... you know what I mean. So this brand new car is kind of a rite of passage for us. A Brand, New, CAR! (Bob, it's ok. Take a break.)
While Aaron jabbered on excitedly about this prospect I marveled once again at how hard this dude loves life. Things are Fun for Aaron. You don't understand. Everything is FUN for Aaron. Making waffles! Taking down Christmas decorations! Getting the car washed! LIFE!
It occurs to me that some people may not have spouses like this. Maybe Aaron doesn't have a spouse like this. Maybe sometimes I'm a little too bored. A little too whiny, a little too quiet, a little too ho-hum in proportion to the amazing go-round we're getting. I mean, we're kind of on the pretty princess train, you know? House to live in, nice bed, good jobs, Chipotle on Demand, two families who think we're the bees knees, finances that allow us to visit said families, etc.
Aaron gets this. Aaron knows how to have fun. Aaron IS fun. And I'm lucky.
Go make some waffles!
Monday, September 24, 2012
Anniversary 3
We went to Tucson this weekend to play Rich People for a few days and celebrate the fact that Aaron Michael picked me three years ago.
We watched movies, ordered room service (OMG THE COOKIES), hung out by the pool and ate at the Westin La Paloma's swanky restaurant. AND we got massages. The view from our room was pretty gorgeous (see bottom right) but I think my view at dinner was even better. (wink wink flirt flirt. Seriously, though. What a hunk.)
We've taken that hand picture every year, starting with our honeymoon when we were sitting in an empty little cafe in Key West and admiring our new jewelry. It's getting fun to build up these memories - we've taken some awesome anniversary trips over these past three years.
Every year I pinch myself and thank God for being so smart. When I married AB 3 years ago I knew I loved him and that he was the bees knees, but there are so many things about him I didn't know then but that are such important attributes in a partner. He works hard, he is responsible, he cares about doing things right, he has integrity when it'd be easy not to... and every time he shows me one of these things I think - how smart am I? I didn't even KNOW how good your scrambled eggs were when I married you! Bonus!
Sometimes it's easy to get overwhelmed by things in my life that make me feel sad or worried or anxious, but it's a cold splash of water to realize that through everything, I have this smiley guy right next to me. He is the absolute best and I love him with my whole, entire heart. Here's to a million more, bud.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Marriage Exhibit B
(Maybe you remember Exhibit A)?
I mean, TOTAL SWOON, right? Aaron thought to himself, what is the quickest way to her heart....and he was not wrong, my friends. He was not wrong. (The fall colors! THE COLORS!)
In other unfocused news, do you know what song gets in my head like, multiple times a week? I seriously mean multiple. I'll wake up out of a dead sleep on like, some mundane Wednesday or something and here I am, humming this song. I haven't even watched this movie in YEARS, though I should remedy that, I'm thinking. Something about this melody. I like Middle Eastern music, I think.
You're welcome. (Can someone who is up on their Serendipity trivia tell me if that's actually Obi Wan in that video? If it is I'm really sad about it but I'm not sure why.)
How was the weekend, friendsies?
I mean, TOTAL SWOON, right? Aaron thought to himself, what is the quickest way to her heart....and he was not wrong, my friends. He was not wrong. (The fall colors! THE COLORS!)
In other unfocused news, do you know what song gets in my head like, multiple times a week? I seriously mean multiple. I'll wake up out of a dead sleep on like, some mundane Wednesday or something and here I am, humming this song. I haven't even watched this movie in YEARS, though I should remedy that, I'm thinking. Something about this melody. I like Middle Eastern music, I think.
You're welcome. (Can someone who is up on their Serendipity trivia tell me if that's actually Obi Wan in that video? If it is I'm really sad about it but I'm not sure why.)
How was the weekend, friendsies?
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Marriage
Aaron: "What do you WANT?"
Maria: "I need you to treat me like a princess today."
Aaron: "Then I can't even lay my eyes on you, because I'm a peasant. I'm going to play xbox."
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Fantasy Football Has Come, Woe Unto Us
Should you have been a fly on the wall:
Aaron: DUDE! Oh my gosh, dude. I just picked up (evidently well-performing football player's name). Can you believe how good I am at this?
Ben: DUDE! BUT DUDE! Did you see who I just got? I just got (football player for whom a case is to be made that he is better-performing than the above choice by Aaron). So, yeah! Go me!
Maria: I think I have heard this person's name before, and in a football-related context regarding satisfactory performance. I will search for him and add him to my team.
Aaron: That guy is dead.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Eavesdropping
Fridays are my favorite days of the week. You know, everyone's working for the weekend and all that. Piggybacking onto that sentiment, one of my favorite things about blogging is going "along for the ride" so to speak with other fun people with fun words and things. So I thought that maybe I'd start inviting you along with me on Fridays. I'll share a picture and then the conversation that accompanied it, and it will be just like you were there, except you weren't, unless you're like this blue-shirted guy in Exhibit A below, in which case, sorry about that, and also if you read this, IM me (wink wink.) (Didn't AOL get rid of AIM or something? I can't wait for when the History Channel does a documentary on how it changed the course of Gen Y's social lives and probably melted our brains or something and one of us is going to solve the mystery of space because of it. Because like, you could make the electronic entrance of the person you had a crush on sound like a cash register. I don't know what living is without that.)
Last night Aaron and I ate at our favorite Friday night spot, Four Peaks. It's up in Scottsdale next to an auto parts store and Costco. That's what suburbs are like.
Aaron (regarding the baseball player on the TV): "They call that guy Kung Fu Panda."
Me: "...what?"
Aaron: "Yeah. Kung Fu Panda. Because he's fat."
Me: "that guy's not fat."
Aaron: "Yes he is! Look at his jowls."
Me: "I'm sorry?"
Aaron: "His jowls. He has big jowls. He's jolly."
Me: "I don't understand what jowls have to do with being fat. When you say 'jowls' are you referring to actual 'jowls' or some other part of the human body that you think should be called 'jowls'? And anyway, even if that guy were actually fat, why Kung Fu Panda? I mean, what?"
Aaron: "You know. Kung Fu Panda. Like the fat panda in the movie. Pandas are fat."
Me: "There are so many millions of other animals and people in the world that society associates with being fat before pandas. Whales. Tubs of goo. Your proverbial 'mamma.' Roseanne."
Aaron: "Roseanne probably wasn't always fat. Plus, that's a girl's name."
Me: "Is it more normal to be called an animal than a girl?"
Aaron: "I'm just saying, pandas are fat."
Me: "Does that guy know Kung Fu or something? Because I could get on board if that guy is like, an olympic-level Kung Fu artist or athlete or whatever they call them. Although it would be a little weird if he spent most of his time playing baseball when really he's an olympic Kung Fu dancer. USA!"
Aaron: "You're missing the point."
Me: "If there was a point, I think I'm losing my grip on the English language."
Aaron: "Sometimes nick names are nonsensical."
Me: "I think I'd like to write down for future notice to you that nonsensical nicknames are off limits for dinner conversation."
Aaron: "I don't know why you have such an aversion to Kung Fu Panda."
Me: "Baseball makes me cry a little."
Aaron: "You have salad dressing on your jowls."
Happy Friday!
Last night Aaron and I ate at our favorite Friday night spot, Four Peaks. It's up in Scottsdale next to an auto parts store and Costco. That's what suburbs are like.
Aaron (regarding the baseball player on the TV): "They call that guy Kung Fu Panda."
Me: "...what?"
Aaron: "Yeah. Kung Fu Panda. Because he's fat."
Me: "that guy's not fat."
Aaron: "Yes he is! Look at his jowls."
Me: "I'm sorry?"
Aaron: "His jowls. He has big jowls. He's jolly."
Me: "I don't understand what jowls have to do with being fat. When you say 'jowls' are you referring to actual 'jowls' or some other part of the human body that you think should be called 'jowls'? And anyway, even if that guy were actually fat, why Kung Fu Panda? I mean, what?"
Aaron: "You know. Kung Fu Panda. Like the fat panda in the movie. Pandas are fat."
Me: "There are so many millions of other animals and people in the world that society associates with being fat before pandas. Whales. Tubs of goo. Your proverbial 'mamma.' Roseanne."
Aaron: "Roseanne probably wasn't always fat. Plus, that's a girl's name."
Me: "Is it more normal to be called an animal than a girl?"
Aaron: "I'm just saying, pandas are fat."
Me: "Does that guy know Kung Fu or something? Because I could get on board if that guy is like, an olympic-level Kung Fu artist or athlete or whatever they call them. Although it would be a little weird if he spent most of his time playing baseball when really he's an olympic Kung Fu dancer. USA!"
Aaron: "You're missing the point."
Me: "If there was a point, I think I'm losing my grip on the English language."
Aaron: "Sometimes nick names are nonsensical."
Me: "I think I'd like to write down for future notice to you that nonsensical nicknames are off limits for dinner conversation."
Aaron: "I don't know why you have such an aversion to Kung Fu Panda."
Me: "Baseball makes me cry a little."
Aaron: "You have salad dressing on your jowls."
Happy Friday!
Monday, June 18, 2012
Begrudged Serendipity
Two ways to ruin my week are to put a hitch in my plans or throw me a curveball. By that I mean, A. cause something to in my life to change, or B. take control away from me. I do not do these things well. Do you remember that episode of Seinfeld where Elaine discovered she didn't have any "grace?" I would love for people to think I have grace too but, much like I think Elaine is, I am one of those people that gives purposely audible sighs of frustration in the check-out line at the grocery store when the cashier is taking too long. Once you're that person, you can't not be that person. I'm sorry, everyone.
That being said, I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't share the story of our layover flight in Canada on our way to Ireland, otherwise known as the Great Maria Breakdown of 2012. If you've brought along your sympathy-for-Aaron cap, do put it on now.
We had successfully endured a layover at Newark Airport, which is like the knock-off brand of Cool Whip of airports. It's so sad there, like one of those houses that got to be on some home makeover show but then you go back a couple of years later and there's newspapers stacked on the chaise lounge and cats ate all the potpurri. So we boarded our plane for Belfast with all of the obligatory squeals of excitment that I DIDN'T CARE WHOSE BABY THEY WOKE UP, LADY; WHO BRINGS A BABY ON AN INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT ANYWAY AND I BET THOSE OVERALLS WILL BE COVERED IN PUKE BY THE TIME WE LAND, AND IF IT'S NOT THE BABY'S PUKE MAYBE IT WILL BE MINE and can you believe the anger I already had, just upon boarding? This is called foreshadowing and if you're taking notes, this is the time to write "Exhibit A: Crazy" in your margins.
About an hour and a half into our United Airlines flight, a comically calm pilot came on the sound system, interrupting my viewing of "Man on a Ledge" to which I give two stars but I was happy that Elizabeth Banks' hair was normal, and said "Hi everyone! The de-icing mechanism on our engine is broken! We are going to make an emergency landing! Thanks everyone!"
So we landed in Halifax, Nova Scotia, which is Canada, you guys. Then an early-90's sitcom began to play out in front of our very eyes, as a three-hour wait to get a hotel room was followed by a hand-written "free hotel voucher" from the airport lady whose computer was "broke", but who was rather keen to enjoy a visit from a big-bellied security guard with a bright yellow vest and quite a loud snore.
After we waited for our "voucher" and then waited for the shuttle to take us to the hotel and then laid down in bed at 4:30 am, steam was coming out of my ears and not the good kind. It was at this point that Aaron said "Maria, set your alarm. In the morning we are going to go see the Titanic cemetery."
You see, as our flight emergency landed all up in this joint, I sarcastically remarked to my husband, "oh hey. Halifax is where everyone is buried. The wreck's only a few hundred miles away. YAY I'M SO GLAD WE'RE HERE."
That's when Aaron's brain started cookin' and by the time we woke up the next morning, he had a map in one hand, money for the bus in the other and a goofy grin that only a crazy person could have after spending the night with Maria Whose Plans Were Just Interrupted.
I whined. I pouted. I gave sarcastic glares. When the United Airlines guy said "we'll board in about an hour" the next day, I said "Is that like, a real hour or like, your fantasy-world definition of an hour? Because it was "an hour" about 3 hours ago, and since "an hour" implies 1 hour and 3 hours is not 1 hour but 3, I feel I can't rely on your current notion of '1 hour.'" And he said "Have you heard of an "engineer's hour"? And I said no, but if you're about to tell me it's going to be longer than a real person's hour, you probably shouldn't, and now I'm thinking about the term "baker's dozen" for some reason but the only thing people have here in Canada is freaking Tim Horton's and I really don't feel like a day-old cream-filled donut, and now I'm not only angry about the 3 hours but also about the lack of good food.
You guys, before we finally took off for Ireland about 40 hours later they made us wait an extra 3 hours so they could give us sandwiches on the plane. Cold ham sandwiches from Tim Horton's. All I could think was, "this is what I bet it looks like behind the scenes at the Pentagon." Total counter-intuitiveness, impatient people, a lack of willingness to take responsibility, and too high of a priority placed on sandwiches.
But here's the moral of the story: we went to the Titanic cemetery. And I was emotional, and it was beautiful, and though I couldn't give in at the time, I can't believe how serendipitous it was that our emergency landing sitcom happened in Halifax, where I probably would have never had occasion to go otherwise.
Now, excuse me, but I am about to go all Toyota up on an unsuspecting United Airlines customer service rep. But with GRACE.
More Ireland stories coming soon...
Do you have a travel nightmare story? Do share.
That being said, I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't share the story of our layover flight in Canada on our way to Ireland, otherwise known as the Great Maria Breakdown of 2012. If you've brought along your sympathy-for-Aaron cap, do put it on now.
We had successfully endured a layover at Newark Airport, which is like the knock-off brand of Cool Whip of airports. It's so sad there, like one of those houses that got to be on some home makeover show but then you go back a couple of years later and there's newspapers stacked on the chaise lounge and cats ate all the potpurri. So we boarded our plane for Belfast with all of the obligatory squeals of excitment that I DIDN'T CARE WHOSE BABY THEY WOKE UP, LADY; WHO BRINGS A BABY ON AN INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT ANYWAY AND I BET THOSE OVERALLS WILL BE COVERED IN PUKE BY THE TIME WE LAND, AND IF IT'S NOT THE BABY'S PUKE MAYBE IT WILL BE MINE and can you believe the anger I already had, just upon boarding? This is called foreshadowing and if you're taking notes, this is the time to write "Exhibit A: Crazy" in your margins.
About an hour and a half into our United Airlines flight, a comically calm pilot came on the sound system, interrupting my viewing of "Man on a Ledge" to which I give two stars but I was happy that Elizabeth Banks' hair was normal, and said "Hi everyone! The de-icing mechanism on our engine is broken! We are going to make an emergency landing! Thanks everyone!"
So we landed in Halifax, Nova Scotia, which is Canada, you guys. Then an early-90's sitcom began to play out in front of our very eyes, as a three-hour wait to get a hotel room was followed by a hand-written "free hotel voucher" from the airport lady whose computer was "broke", but who was rather keen to enjoy a visit from a big-bellied security guard with a bright yellow vest and quite a loud snore.
After we waited for our "voucher" and then waited for the shuttle to take us to the hotel and then laid down in bed at 4:30 am, steam was coming out of my ears and not the good kind. It was at this point that Aaron said "Maria, set your alarm. In the morning we are going to go see the Titanic cemetery."
You see, as our flight emergency landed all up in this joint, I sarcastically remarked to my husband, "oh hey. Halifax is where everyone is buried. The wreck's only a few hundred miles away. YAY I'M SO GLAD WE'RE HERE."
That's when Aaron's brain started cookin' and by the time we woke up the next morning, he had a map in one hand, money for the bus in the other and a goofy grin that only a crazy person could have after spending the night with Maria Whose Plans Were Just Interrupted.
I whined. I pouted. I gave sarcastic glares. When the United Airlines guy said "we'll board in about an hour" the next day, I said "Is that like, a real hour or like, your fantasy-world definition of an hour? Because it was "an hour" about 3 hours ago, and since "an hour" implies 1 hour and 3 hours is not 1 hour but 3, I feel I can't rely on your current notion of '1 hour.'" And he said "Have you heard of an "engineer's hour"? And I said no, but if you're about to tell me it's going to be longer than a real person's hour, you probably shouldn't, and now I'm thinking about the term "baker's dozen" for some reason but the only thing people have here in Canada is freaking Tim Horton's and I really don't feel like a day-old cream-filled donut, and now I'm not only angry about the 3 hours but also about the lack of good food.
You guys, before we finally took off for Ireland about 40 hours later they made us wait an extra 3 hours so they could give us sandwiches on the plane. Cold ham sandwiches from Tim Horton's. All I could think was, "this is what I bet it looks like behind the scenes at the Pentagon." Total counter-intuitiveness, impatient people, a lack of willingness to take responsibility, and too high of a priority placed on sandwiches.
But here's the moral of the story: we went to the Titanic cemetery. And I was emotional, and it was beautiful, and though I couldn't give in at the time, I can't believe how serendipitous it was that our emergency landing sitcom happened in Halifax, where I probably would have never had occasion to go otherwise.
Now, excuse me, but I am about to go all Toyota up on an unsuspecting United Airlines customer service rep. But with GRACE.
More Ireland stories coming soon...
Do you have a travel nightmare story? Do share.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Neuroses
In a rare moment of calm, as I sit enjoying a hunka chips and salsa in my pajamas, it has come to my memory that the following excerpts of e-mails have been sent to Aaron, by me, within the last two weeks:
"Oh my gosh bud, I just bought this dress online for $51.99. I was waiting for it to get back in stock and then it did and I don't know what I was thinking I just bought it! Is that ok? Don't worry. They have a good return policy."
"Babe, help me! I really want to go to Zumba tonight but I promised Vanessa I'd chat with her on the phone after work and I want to have enough time to talk to her but I don't want to go to Zumba late but I want to work out today because I feel lazy. Serioulsy, what am I going to do?"
"OMG bud I just wrote on (someone's) facebook wall and I just know (they) are going to get mad about it. Why did I do that?! Are you mad at me?"
And this one's just glorious:
"BABE:
"Oh my gosh bud, I just bought this dress online for $51.99. I was waiting for it to get back in stock and then it did and I don't know what I was thinking I just bought it! Is that ok? Don't worry. They have a good return policy."
"Babe, help me! I really want to go to Zumba tonight but I promised Vanessa I'd chat with her on the phone after work and I want to have enough time to talk to her but I don't want to go to Zumba late but I want to work out today because I feel lazy. Serioulsy, what am I going to do?"
"OMG bud I just wrote on (someone's) facebook wall and I just know (they) are going to get mad about it. Why did I do that?! Are you mad at me?"
And this one's just glorious:
"BABE:
ADLSKJSLDKFJSLDKFJSLDKJFSLDKFJLSKDJFSLDKJFSLDKF
that is my whiney voice. Please take five moments of silence and hear it in your head. Here it is again:
LKAJFLSAKDJFLSKJFDLSKDJFLSKJFLSKJFLKSDJFLSKDJLKJDSF
MY NECK IS SORE AND MY THROAT HURTS AND I WANT A RED VELVET CUPCAKE BUT I DON'T WANT THE CALORIES."
(that was the entirety of that one.)
And here's the thing, people. With all that blathering, borderline-frightening crazy up there, I get responses like this:
"Babe, I'm so glad you got that dress! I can't wait to see it on you!"
"Hi love! Why don't you just talk to Vanessa in the car on the way to Zumba. The worst case scenario is that you miss the very beginning of class, and that won't be so bad."
"I'm not angry at all, little girl! Don't you worry about it! What you wrote was great."
And, well, to that last piece of literary perfection, he replied:
"RIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. That's how I feel."
They can't all be winners.
But he certainly is. Give him a medal. And for me...maybe some ritalin?
that is my whiney voice. Please take five moments of silence and hear it in your head. Here it is again:
LKAJFLSAKDJFLSKJFDLSKDJFLSKJFLSKJFLKSDJFLSKDJLKJDSF
MY NECK IS SORE AND MY THROAT HURTS AND I WANT A RED VELVET CUPCAKE BUT I DON'T WANT THE CALORIES."
(that was the entirety of that one.)
And here's the thing, people. With all that blathering, borderline-frightening crazy up there, I get responses like this:
"Babe, I'm so glad you got that dress! I can't wait to see it on you!"
"Hi love! Why don't you just talk to Vanessa in the car on the way to Zumba. The worst case scenario is that you miss the very beginning of class, and that won't be so bad."
"I'm not angry at all, little girl! Don't you worry about it! What you wrote was great."
And, well, to that last piece of literary perfection, he replied:
"RIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. That's how I feel."
They can't all be winners.
But he certainly is. Give him a medal. And for me...maybe some ritalin?
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Tulips; Yellow and Purple
Yesterday I bought some purple and yellow tulips. I had just taken a shower so my hair was half wet and half frizzy, and I was wearing my token OU Football T shirt (went to one game in 4 years, ladies and gentlemen, but darn it all if I don't love that shirt) and my gray gym shorts with the paint stain on them from the Great Funeral Home Paint of 2007. (Aaron and I took all odd jobs that summer, together. We painted, we camp counseled. We watched movies in my basement. It was glorious.)
Anyway, my point is that when I bought the flowers I didn't look like a person who would be buying flowers at a grocery store. At Lowe's, maybe. Because you could've assumed that I was doing housework in my grub clothes and the flowers fit into that. But I wasn't at Lowe's, I was at Basha's, where the flowers are way overpriced and where the home-owners certainly do not go on home improvement shopping sprees.
And the flowers were most definitely overpriced. I paid like, $7.99 for each color. One bushel of purple, one of yellow. That's like, almost $15, man. (Full disclosure: there was a giant pause in my typing before I got that number out. I haven't taken a math class since 2005, so it's ok.)
I hadn't planned to buy them. They weren't on my neat, yellow, college-ruled list. The other thing about the flowers was that I didn't really have a purpose for them in mind, other than putting them in my little purple vase and in the center of my clutter-filled kitchen table. Also regarding live flowers: they don't live forever. You have to have these things in mind when you are shelling out $15 on something. Especially when $15 could also go toward dog food, or laundry detergent, or Chipotle.
The best part about all of this is, though, that I bought the flowers. I had one millisecond of "oh, I shouldn't" but I took that thought captive, ya'll. And Aaron didn't even blink a beautiful eye of his. He looked at them and said "Oh Ria, how beautiful!" and when I said "they're kind of expensive" he looked at me like I was speaking a different language, and we just paid for them at the register.
This Easter morning when I got up, the tulip blooms had started to open up, and the swirl of purple and yellow that I saw out of my still-sleeping eyes was just so sweet and sugary. I went out on my porch with my mug of orange juice. (Orange juice is my coffee, but I still pretend it's real coffee.) And I sat and stared at this gorgeous sunrise, and I read the resurrection story in Luke and John, and I thought about my Aunt Cris, and I realized that buying flowers is a little thing, but if in doing so you can stomp on a little tiny fraction of the larger-than-life swarm of useless anxiety that we allow to surround ourselves every single minute, well, then that is really something. It is like a little bit of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter that's all your own. And that was only made possible by the real Easter.
My weird, anti-intellectual, but ever-present anxiety died in a moment, and then a sweet, flower-smelled peace resurrected that couldn't have otherwise. And the victory is delicious.
Happy Easter!
Anyway, my point is that when I bought the flowers I didn't look like a person who would be buying flowers at a grocery store. At Lowe's, maybe. Because you could've assumed that I was doing housework in my grub clothes and the flowers fit into that. But I wasn't at Lowe's, I was at Basha's, where the flowers are way overpriced and where the home-owners certainly do not go on home improvement shopping sprees.
And the flowers were most definitely overpriced. I paid like, $7.99 for each color. One bushel of purple, one of yellow. That's like, almost $15, man. (Full disclosure: there was a giant pause in my typing before I got that number out. I haven't taken a math class since 2005, so it's ok.)
I hadn't planned to buy them. They weren't on my neat, yellow, college-ruled list. The other thing about the flowers was that I didn't really have a purpose for them in mind, other than putting them in my little purple vase and in the center of my clutter-filled kitchen table. Also regarding live flowers: they don't live forever. You have to have these things in mind when you are shelling out $15 on something. Especially when $15 could also go toward dog food, or laundry detergent, or Chipotle.
The best part about all of this is, though, that I bought the flowers. I had one millisecond of "oh, I shouldn't" but I took that thought captive, ya'll. And Aaron didn't even blink a beautiful eye of his. He looked at them and said "Oh Ria, how beautiful!" and when I said "they're kind of expensive" he looked at me like I was speaking a different language, and we just paid for them at the register.
This Easter morning when I got up, the tulip blooms had started to open up, and the swirl of purple and yellow that I saw out of my still-sleeping eyes was just so sweet and sugary. I went out on my porch with my mug of orange juice. (Orange juice is my coffee, but I still pretend it's real coffee.) And I sat and stared at this gorgeous sunrise, and I read the resurrection story in Luke and John, and I thought about my Aunt Cris, and I realized that buying flowers is a little thing, but if in doing so you can stomp on a little tiny fraction of the larger-than-life swarm of useless anxiety that we allow to surround ourselves every single minute, well, then that is really something. It is like a little bit of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter that's all your own. And that was only made possible by the real Easter.
My weird, anti-intellectual, but ever-present anxiety died in a moment, and then a sweet, flower-smelled peace resurrected that couldn't have otherwise. And the victory is delicious.
Happy Easter!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Monday Nonsense
Ok, friends. Here's the dealio, as Michael Scott would say. Due to the 'political' nature of my new job, my boss is a bit wary of me having a public blog. (They were burned in the not-too-distant past by an employee with a weak social network filter. Ahem.) However, upon hearing that, after I got over the initial devastation (not really) I researched and found a way to have an invite-only blog. So for now, you all and I share a secret. :)
That being said, I didn't start this post with a lot to say. Just wanted to be in the blog world again.
So, my sweet Mom and Dad are coming out to ol' Scottsdale tomorrow for their yearly April visit, and it feels like Christmas Eve. Aaron and I just completed the Baer Apartment Deep Clean of 2011, and that feels lovely. We blasted Mute Math, John Mayer, and Eisley. Also the vacuum joined in on the noise factor.
While I was cleaning the shower and Aaron Michael was sweeping the furniture, I had one of those existential moments where I realized I was actually having fun, and that Aaron is just the stinkin' bee's knees. Sometimes I think people imagine the 'domestic' parts of marriage to be anti-climactic. I certainly used to, before we got married. But I would trade the awkward tension of dating for the happy hum-drum of cleaning together almost any day.
We were born in different states. We literally never knew of each other for the first 18 years of our lives. Now we are inseparable and we clean our apartment together in music-filled silence. Who could've known?
That reminds me of a line in "Memoirs of a Geisha," which I just finished and have been mulling over all day. But I can't quite recall the line right now. It is about the rhythm of life and how our destiny is like a stone falling toward the earth... it's the most beautiful line and I'm butchering it. But this is where I tell you that if you really want to hear it, you'll have to go read the book. Then, of course, call me so we can chat about it!
Alright, time for my nightly glass of cranberry juice (girlfriends: jump on this train. If you'd like to know why, Google it or e-mail me.) and then a little bit of reading. Tonight I'm starting "Water for Elephants."
I have to say a thank you before I go, though. I was nervous putting myself out there to have an e-mail only blog, because I wasn't sure if I'd have any takers. But ya'll made me feel very loved and I'm so glad we can share this together. And hey - if you have a blog too, would you mind leaving it in the comments? I really really want to follow you.
Goodnight, friends.
Maria
That being said, I didn't start this post with a lot to say. Just wanted to be in the blog world again.
So, my sweet Mom and Dad are coming out to ol' Scottsdale tomorrow for their yearly April visit, and it feels like Christmas Eve. Aaron and I just completed the Baer Apartment Deep Clean of 2011, and that feels lovely. We blasted Mute Math, John Mayer, and Eisley. Also the vacuum joined in on the noise factor.
While I was cleaning the shower and Aaron Michael was sweeping the furniture, I had one of those existential moments where I realized I was actually having fun, and that Aaron is just the stinkin' bee's knees. Sometimes I think people imagine the 'domestic' parts of marriage to be anti-climactic. I certainly used to, before we got married. But I would trade the awkward tension of dating for the happy hum-drum of cleaning together almost any day.
We were born in different states. We literally never knew of each other for the first 18 years of our lives. Now we are inseparable and we clean our apartment together in music-filled silence. Who could've known?
That reminds me of a line in "Memoirs of a Geisha," which I just finished and have been mulling over all day. But I can't quite recall the line right now. It is about the rhythm of life and how our destiny is like a stone falling toward the earth... it's the most beautiful line and I'm butchering it. But this is where I tell you that if you really want to hear it, you'll have to go read the book. Then, of course, call me so we can chat about it!
Alright, time for my nightly glass of cranberry juice (girlfriends: jump on this train. If you'd like to know why, Google it or e-mail me.) and then a little bit of reading. Tonight I'm starting "Water for Elephants."
I have to say a thank you before I go, though. I was nervous putting myself out there to have an e-mail only blog, because I wasn't sure if I'd have any takers. But ya'll made me feel very loved and I'm so glad we can share this together. And hey - if you have a blog too, would you mind leaving it in the comments? I really really want to follow you.
Goodnight, friends.
Maria
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Here's What's Up.
I haven't written in a while. Part of that has been that we have been insanely busy (in a good way! December is always that way, it seems.) But another part is that I feel like every time I am inspired to write, it's because I'm feeling particularly bummed or melancholy, and I don't like that. It makes it seem like my whole life is melancholy. And it so is not! Maybe those kinds of days are just the ones where I feel more poetic.
Either way, I want to write tonight. I don't have a main point in mind. Just want to write. About what's going on lately in Baer world.
1. New Years and such
This year, my resolution is not to lose weight. We can talk about the magnitude of that one day, maybe. But probably not.
Anyway, I have two goals this year. The first is to find a play to be in. Over Christmas break, Mom and Dad took us to see "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" in Lakewood (Cleveland) and it was faaaabulous. ("Could you use a slave, you hairy bunch of Ishmaelites?") It made me want to hop on stage and make everyone look at me while I do funny things. That's generally what wish every day was like, but community theater is man's way of making that socially acceptable. So I plan to partake this year.
My (our) second goal this year is to research and hopefully find a long-term trip to start planning for. One of Aaron and I's goals for our life is to spend an extended amount of time in another country, helping out. What that looks like, we have no idea. And I do hesitate to make grand plans like that too far in advance, because that's just the sort of thing God likes to mess up to teach you a lesson. (Don't take that literally, but I kind of mean it.) Anyway, we are hoping after this year to at least have a goal in mind and a savings plan for it. Then, the idea is, after another 2 or 3 years in Phoenix, we will pack up, go on an adventure for a while, then come back to the states and 'settle down' a bit closer to my parents. :) I've started researching some orphanages in Uganda for the past three weeks, because we sponsor a sweet little dude in Kampala and would love to get to meet him, too. We'll see. I'll keep you all updated on our progress.
2. Books
Now I want to talk about "Atonement" and whatnot. One of the things I love the most about Christmas and the respite it promises every year is the stories I always finally have the time to delve into. One year I got the Bourne movies as presents and spent the entire break watching the Bourne Supremacy every night. (I used to be a big movie re-watcher. I'm sure there's some clever psychoanalysis you could get from that, but let's pocket that one for now.) Another year I was given Gladiator and the Gladiator soundtrack, and when I wasn't watching Russell Crowe nobly behead armies of stunt men, I was laying on my floor listening to sad flute songs, humming along.
This year, I finally finished the Hunger Games series. It shook me through and through, and you really should expect nothing less from a book. It was happy and sad and complicated and frightening and such a striking commentary on why humans only screw things up on their own - even when they think they're doing the opposite. READ it.
I also read "Atonement" by Ian McEwan and I had to sit with it for a week or so before I finally formed my opinion. And my opinion is a bit complicated. First, parts of it were dreadfully boring. Dreadfully. But I found myself completely unable to put it down, because his way of writing through a child's stream-of-consciousness is one of the most fun things I've ever read. It almost made me mad how much he knew me. But I was Briony. I really can't describe to you how much I was her. One afternoon in my childhood, and all it sounded and felt and looked like to me, WAS worth 150 pages. Just like Briony's. Even if it bores you.
We rented the movie at Blockbuster last night and I might start it tonight. I'm not quite sure, after reading it, how they plan to make a movie out of it, so it should be interesting. I convinced Aaron to watch it by showing him that Kiera Knightly was on the cover. Thanks, Kiera.
3. Old Journals
Aaron bought us new bookshelves this weekend, as he's been inspired lately to beef up our humble apartment. (He painted our living room too - it's a fabulous orange. So southwesterny. I adore it.) As I was shifting old books, bibles, journalism textbooks and planners that I just can't make myself through away from our old shelves to our new, I came across one of my favorite journals. It's the one I had my sophomore year in college. My roommates would recognize it in a heartbeat, I guarantee. It's a big spiral hardbound thing, with a french lady on the front in a fabulous hat. It says "Chic" right next to her. I got it because I was obsessing over the Cardigans that year (and always) and I thought Nina, the lead singer, was so "chic." So that was my word of the year.
Anyway, that journal truly includes the very beginning of Aaron and I. And it was so much fun reading about some of the sweet, confusing things I had forgotten about. How he showed up to one of my shows at a coffee house in a "stupid backwards hat" and offered to buy me a coffee when I had told him to stay away from me until he decided what he wanted to do with his girlfriend back home who he was on a 'break' with. How he seemed so strangely infatuated with me and I almost counted that against him - I was such a nerd; how could I like someone who would have liked me? But what a guy he was, and is. He totally swept me away. I'm so glad I have that journal.
It was weird, reading that, then looking over and seeing this gorgeous guy put the finishing orange touches on our walls. Could he be the same guy? He's not as confusing, or mysterious to me anymore. But strangely, I don't miss that. Now he looks like home. And that's even better.
4. Limbo
Now, this is where I'm going to get melancholy, I guess. Oh well. Take it with a grain of salt.
If you don't read Kate Andre's blog, you simply must. She is so lovely. I've been reading it for a long time now. She's an Ohio kindred spirit, if she doesn't mind me calling her that. Today I read her sweet new entry and found out that she and her new husband are expecting. I'm so happy for her!
And here's where you all are going to laugh at me. Seeing that news made me feel weird. All of my friends, including Aaron, will not hesitate to describe to you how inexplicably terrified of having children I am. I can't even think about it. Now I think that one day, maybe in 10 years or so, Aaron and I will want to grow our family a bit. But right now? HECK no. Don't get me wrong - if God gives us children, we will love them and trust Him. We knew we'd have to be ok with that when we got married. But we are most definitely not trying for that just yet.
BUT. Kate's news made me sigh. And I can't figure out what that means. I almost felt a little...jealous. What a thing she's doing, being a mother. What am I doing? It made me feel like I'm in limbo a bit. Is it wrong to not have kids yet; or to not be trying to have them? Is that what you're supposed to do when you get married? Are we accomplishing anything, or are we being selfish?
Some of those questions I already know the answer to; it's just that that's what went through my mind upon hearing Kate's news. Other friends of mine have had children very recently as well - some of our best friends Kristina and Anthony had little Sophia a few months ago, a friend from home, Becca, had her sweet little Selah in December. And what am I doing? Am I doing nothing?
I said before that you'd laugh at me, and I imagine you are. Here I am, perhaps the person most terrified of children on the planet, stomping her feet because she feels left out. I don't know what that means.
Briony would.
Oh well. Just wanted to get all of that off my chest. I certainly hope God doesn't think this would be a funny time to send us a child. That joke wouldn't land, Big Guy. Come on now.
Ok, now I'm sitting her in the quiet, on our comfy couch bundled in my new pajamas, with a hot chocolate surrounded by orangey, sunsetty walls. Even with limbo and travel plans and baby fear running through my heart, I can't help but be joyful.
Here's to a good week!
Either way, I want to write tonight. I don't have a main point in mind. Just want to write. About what's going on lately in Baer world.
1. New Years and such
This year, my resolution is not to lose weight. We can talk about the magnitude of that one day, maybe. But probably not.
Anyway, I have two goals this year. The first is to find a play to be in. Over Christmas break, Mom and Dad took us to see "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" in Lakewood (Cleveland) and it was faaaabulous. ("Could you use a slave, you hairy bunch of Ishmaelites?") It made me want to hop on stage and make everyone look at me while I do funny things. That's generally what wish every day was like, but community theater is man's way of making that socially acceptable. So I plan to partake this year.
My (our) second goal this year is to research and hopefully find a long-term trip to start planning for. One of Aaron and I's goals for our life is to spend an extended amount of time in another country, helping out. What that looks like, we have no idea. And I do hesitate to make grand plans like that too far in advance, because that's just the sort of thing God likes to mess up to teach you a lesson. (Don't take that literally, but I kind of mean it.) Anyway, we are hoping after this year to at least have a goal in mind and a savings plan for it. Then, the idea is, after another 2 or 3 years in Phoenix, we will pack up, go on an adventure for a while, then come back to the states and 'settle down' a bit closer to my parents. :) I've started researching some orphanages in Uganda for the past three weeks, because we sponsor a sweet little dude in Kampala and would love to get to meet him, too. We'll see. I'll keep you all updated on our progress.
2. Books
Now I want to talk about "Atonement" and whatnot. One of the things I love the most about Christmas and the respite it promises every year is the stories I always finally have the time to delve into. One year I got the Bourne movies as presents and spent the entire break watching the Bourne Supremacy every night. (I used to be a big movie re-watcher. I'm sure there's some clever psychoanalysis you could get from that, but let's pocket that one for now.) Another year I was given Gladiator and the Gladiator soundtrack, and when I wasn't watching Russell Crowe nobly behead armies of stunt men, I was laying on my floor listening to sad flute songs, humming along.
This year, I finally finished the Hunger Games series. It shook me through and through, and you really should expect nothing less from a book. It was happy and sad and complicated and frightening and such a striking commentary on why humans only screw things up on their own - even when they think they're doing the opposite. READ it.
I also read "Atonement" by Ian McEwan and I had to sit with it for a week or so before I finally formed my opinion. And my opinion is a bit complicated. First, parts of it were dreadfully boring. Dreadfully. But I found myself completely unable to put it down, because his way of writing through a child's stream-of-consciousness is one of the most fun things I've ever read. It almost made me mad how much he knew me. But I was Briony. I really can't describe to you how much I was her. One afternoon in my childhood, and all it sounded and felt and looked like to me, WAS worth 150 pages. Just like Briony's. Even if it bores you.
We rented the movie at Blockbuster last night and I might start it tonight. I'm not quite sure, after reading it, how they plan to make a movie out of it, so it should be interesting. I convinced Aaron to watch it by showing him that Kiera Knightly was on the cover. Thanks, Kiera.
3. Old Journals
Aaron bought us new bookshelves this weekend, as he's been inspired lately to beef up our humble apartment. (He painted our living room too - it's a fabulous orange. So southwesterny. I adore it.) As I was shifting old books, bibles, journalism textbooks and planners that I just can't make myself through away from our old shelves to our new, I came across one of my favorite journals. It's the one I had my sophomore year in college. My roommates would recognize it in a heartbeat, I guarantee. It's a big spiral hardbound thing, with a french lady on the front in a fabulous hat. It says "Chic" right next to her. I got it because I was obsessing over the Cardigans that year (and always) and I thought Nina, the lead singer, was so "chic." So that was my word of the year.
Anyway, that journal truly includes the very beginning of Aaron and I. And it was so much fun reading about some of the sweet, confusing things I had forgotten about. How he showed up to one of my shows at a coffee house in a "stupid backwards hat" and offered to buy me a coffee when I had told him to stay away from me until he decided what he wanted to do with his girlfriend back home who he was on a 'break' with. How he seemed so strangely infatuated with me and I almost counted that against him - I was such a nerd; how could I like someone who would have liked me? But what a guy he was, and is. He totally swept me away. I'm so glad I have that journal.
It was weird, reading that, then looking over and seeing this gorgeous guy put the finishing orange touches on our walls. Could he be the same guy? He's not as confusing, or mysterious to me anymore. But strangely, I don't miss that. Now he looks like home. And that's even better.
4. Limbo
Now, this is where I'm going to get melancholy, I guess. Oh well. Take it with a grain of salt.
If you don't read Kate Andre's blog, you simply must. She is so lovely. I've been reading it for a long time now. She's an Ohio kindred spirit, if she doesn't mind me calling her that. Today I read her sweet new entry and found out that she and her new husband are expecting. I'm so happy for her!
And here's where you all are going to laugh at me. Seeing that news made me feel weird. All of my friends, including Aaron, will not hesitate to describe to you how inexplicably terrified of having children I am. I can't even think about it. Now I think that one day, maybe in 10 years or so, Aaron and I will want to grow our family a bit. But right now? HECK no. Don't get me wrong - if God gives us children, we will love them and trust Him. We knew we'd have to be ok with that when we got married. But we are most definitely not trying for that just yet.
BUT. Kate's news made me sigh. And I can't figure out what that means. I almost felt a little...jealous. What a thing she's doing, being a mother. What am I doing? It made me feel like I'm in limbo a bit. Is it wrong to not have kids yet; or to not be trying to have them? Is that what you're supposed to do when you get married? Are we accomplishing anything, or are we being selfish?
Some of those questions I already know the answer to; it's just that that's what went through my mind upon hearing Kate's news. Other friends of mine have had children very recently as well - some of our best friends Kristina and Anthony had little Sophia a few months ago, a friend from home, Becca, had her sweet little Selah in December. And what am I doing? Am I doing nothing?
I said before that you'd laugh at me, and I imagine you are. Here I am, perhaps the person most terrified of children on the planet, stomping her feet because she feels left out. I don't know what that means.
Briony would.
Oh well. Just wanted to get all of that off my chest. I certainly hope God doesn't think this would be a funny time to send us a child. That joke wouldn't land, Big Guy. Come on now.
Ok, now I'm sitting her in the quiet, on our comfy couch bundled in my new pajamas, with a hot chocolate surrounded by orangey, sunsetty walls. Even with limbo and travel plans and baby fear running through my heart, I can't help but be joyful.
Here's to a good week!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Decembering
Ayyyyeeeee mis viditas. I've been on a bit of a blog hiatus. But for good reason! Aaron Michael and I took a trip on an aeroplane back to a sweet Ohio Thanksgiving last week. It was so good for the heart and soul and taste buds. We got to see my precious puppy Jake - he is now 13! Photo below. He is quite handsome, is he not? Especially for an old geezer.
And we got to spend some time with my incredible grandparents. My Grandpa had open-heart surgery the Monday before Thanksgiving, and I was so grateful that we got to see him so soon after. He was already cracking jokes by Wednesday. What a miracle the human body is... and his courage is!
We had a marvelous time, and coming back to Phoenix didn't evoke even one tear - mostly because we'll be going right back come Christmas Eve! ;)
Since we've gotten back, I've also been a bit un-blog-available because...well, we went a little Christmas crazy here in the Baer apartment. "Christmas crazy" being a misnomer, however. Might I add.
We bought a big fat jolly new tree, premium Coldstone brand hot chocolate (did you know there was such a thing?! It is to die for) and a million and one candles. We trimmed the tree, completely replaced our mantle knick-knacks with only Christmas-related decor and surrounded our bedroom window with sparkly bulbs. We've already watched both versions of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Dr. Seuss-ian and Jim Carrey-ian.) And Aaron would have turned on The Santa Clause tonight if he could have gotten away with it. (I think I'm too tired to sit through a movie right now but if I weren't I just might have given the go ahead!) 'Tis the season! (OOH - I also bought Dave Barnes' Christmas album...YOU MUST GET IT NOW!)
Christmas craziness aside, I wanted to share some thoughts for a moment on a beautiful book I’ve been reading. It’s called “The Return of the Prodigal Son” by Henri Nouwen, and my reaction to it has been kind of curious. It was recommended to me by a dear friend who knows me quite well, and she promised it would change me. I read the forward and the first few pages thereafter and started feeling a bit uneasy – it was boring me, if I can be honest with you. It wasn’t stirring me at all and I was worried I’d have to report back to my friend that I didn’t feel what she pictured I would.
But I’ve kept reading since then, and though I have a few passages underlined and a few pages dog-eared, there isn’t one single page or word in the book that stands out to me in particular… yet it has already changed me in a way that is going to stick. Do you know that feeling? It is such a real feeling to me… it would be like waking up one day and learning you were color-blind. (This happened to Aaron a few years ago. He was quite perplexed. He inexplicably became even more so when I couldn’t stop giggling about it…) But can you imagine yourself going through that discovery? You would have to apply it to all of your memories of things you had seen before, and you’d know you would have it in mind for the rest of your life as you took in your sights.
That’s how this feels after having read this book. There is no going back. I will know what it taught me forever. Isn’t that lovely? It’s like my heart walls have changed.
I just want to share one passage that I read tonight, because it is tearing me up in such a wonderful way. I think it reminded me too of all that I’ve been learning about mercy.
Nouwen is talking about the parable of the vineyard – where the landowner hires workers each hour throughout the day, then pays each of them the same wage at the end. Naturally the workers who had been there all day aren’t too pleased. They “grumbled.” (I would too. I may even have had a 'Blockbuster' moment, as my friend Taylor calls them. More on that later). And the landowner (God) said “Are you envious because I am generous?” (Matthew 20:15). Nouwen says that for a while he used to wonder why, in the story, the landowner decides to pay the workers who had been there the shortest amount of time first, in front of all the others. Why wouldn’t he foresee the conflict and just pay the longer workers first, hoping that they would be on their way and miss the payment of the later workers? But then he learns:
“It hadn’t occurred to me previously that the landowner might have wanted the workers of the early hours to rejoice in his generosity to the latecomers. It never crossed my mind that he might have acted on the supposition that those who had worked in the vineyard the whole day would be deeply grateful to have had the opportunity to do work for their boss, and even more grateful to see what a generous man he is. It requires an interior about-face to accept such a non-comparing way of thinking. But that is God’s way of thinking. God looks at His people as children of a family who are happy that those who have done only a little bit are as much loved as those who accomplish much.”
I don’t know that there is any ‘commentary’ I could add… I just wanted to share that passage so that maybe you could be as bewildered and awed by the kind of God we have as I was. Can you imagine if we acted like the children He envisions us as... He must feel so perplexed by our self-involved cages. That passage makes me think of what C.S. Lewis says about pride as well – that it is pure comparison. The later workers couldn’t see the beauty of the landowner’s gesture because their comparison was blinding them. How much we must miss!
Hope that beats up your heart as much as it did mine. In a great way. :)
Until next time, Happy December, friends! Both Aaron Michael and I celebrate our 24th birthdays next week, and apparently he is planning an adventurous day for us in the city…I will try to include some pictures!
[P.S. If you are an online Christmas shopper, PLEASE go to www.hughhewitt.com. Check out the banner at the top of the page that says "Good2Give." If you click through that banner to do all your normal Christmas shopping, a portion of your purchases will go to help sponsor hungry children. How can you say no to that!]
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Anniversary One
Today we've decided to open all the blinds in our apartment. We don't normally do this, on account of the heat it usually lets in. Actually, I can't think of the last time we did. But it's very sunny and bright in here again. It feels like a new apartment. And a new day.
My heart is aching a little bit though as we watch the Packers game (and Steelers game on Packers' commercial breaks. I know the rules). It's 52 degrees at Lambeau Field today. Perfection. If I were there I might even wear gloves.Anyway, it's still over 100 degrees here in the southwest. It feels like nothing has changed in years. Like it's been summer since we got married a year ago. There are positive things to it, but I think seasons are good for my heart. They give the feeling that time is moving. Like you're going somewhere and getting things done. And really, you just can't underestimate how much I love a good hoodie.
I just can't help but daydream about OU, with it's brick streets and green hills and rainy days this time of year. Ohio is so quietly beautiful. If you've never been there, go once for me.
BUT. Last weekend my bud and me got to discover another breathtakingly beautiful part of our country. It was our first anniversary - look how He loves us!- so we took Friday off work and road-tripped out to Rancho Mirage, California. Since I work at The Phoenician, we get 50 % off at all Starwood hotels, so we booked a room at the Westin Mission Hills. Our Assistant Director of HR, Stefanie, just started at The Phoenician and came from this Westin. So she called her friends over there and got Aaron and I upgraded to a suite. :)
The drive out west on the I-10 was beautiful...the sky got bigger and bigger the farther west we went and the mountains got taller and the sun got hotter. We listened to the Fleet Foxes Pandora station and drank Sunkist. And then, as we got closer, these huge, white spikes started shooting up out of the sides of the mountains. And then we got closer and realized what they were - wind turbines. I have to say, they were a little unnerving. There was literally no other sign of civilization in sight - but suddently these huge (I can't describe how big, honestly), ominous, strange-looking turbines. It felt strange to look at them. Futuristic. Do we believe in that technology enough to build such huge structures? I know that sounds ignorant, but that's truly what I was thinking. And I want to take you on our trip with us for a little bit.
After we checked in to our suite, we realized that we were playing the greatest game of "let's pretend" ever...as in, let's pretend we have enough money to be doing this. So we put on "Blankest Year" by Nada Surf and jumped on the bed like 12 year olds. And I smiled like a 12 year old. So did he.
We ate at the beautiful restaurant, got drinks at the lobby bar, took lots of walks, sat out on our deck and sipped champagne in our robes, got HEAVENLY massages at the spa, had margaritas at the pool, ordered tons of room service, and even closed the curtains a couple of times to make our room pitch black and put on some movies. It was so perfect.
On Saturday night, we had a knock at the door from room service. They had an amenity for us. The ladies in my HR office had ordered us a box of chocolate and... a boom box? The server walked in, plugged it in, pushed play, and left. And Nickel Creek singing our wedding song came on. We danced.
Normally I wouldn't write about all the details of a trip like this. Because I like to have a little life between Aaron and I that is only ours. But I have been reading Kate McDonald's -er, Kate Andre's blog - about her recent wedding and honeymoon and I've just felt so inspired by it and so grateful and God lets us experience love like this. And our trip just shook my soul and I wanted to write about it. I truly can't believe how much I love Aaron, and how much more I love him every day. On Saturday night we were sitting out on our porch. I had just taken a shower and my skin smelled so clean, and I sat there in my robe holding Aaron Michael's hand. It was completely silent outside. Only crickets and a huge full moon. And Aaron told me something that I will never forget as long as I live. I'm not going to write it in here; because it is a part of our secret life. But it broke my heart and mended it at the same time. It made me cry and laugh, and it made me know that I had always been going to find Aaron, and he had always been going to find me. And that he loves me in a way I will probably never understand. I don't know why I'm so lucky, but I won't question it.
It was a beautiful trip. Here's to many more years.
The outside of our suite
Bella Vista, the restaurant
Part of our room...
Where we took our walks
The Pool
Sunny!
My guy :)
My heart is aching a little bit though as we watch the Packers game (and Steelers game on Packers' commercial breaks. I know the rules). It's 52 degrees at Lambeau Field today. Perfection. If I were there I might even wear gloves.Anyway, it's still over 100 degrees here in the southwest. It feels like nothing has changed in years. Like it's been summer since we got married a year ago. There are positive things to it, but I think seasons are good for my heart. They give the feeling that time is moving. Like you're going somewhere and getting things done. And really, you just can't underestimate how much I love a good hoodie.
I just can't help but daydream about OU, with it's brick streets and green hills and rainy days this time of year. Ohio is so quietly beautiful. If you've never been there, go once for me.
BUT. Last weekend my bud and me got to discover another breathtakingly beautiful part of our country. It was our first anniversary - look how He loves us!- so we took Friday off work and road-tripped out to Rancho Mirage, California. Since I work at The Phoenician, we get 50 % off at all Starwood hotels, so we booked a room at the Westin Mission Hills. Our Assistant Director of HR, Stefanie, just started at The Phoenician and came from this Westin. So she called her friends over there and got Aaron and I upgraded to a suite. :)
The drive out west on the I-10 was beautiful...the sky got bigger and bigger the farther west we went and the mountains got taller and the sun got hotter. We listened to the Fleet Foxes Pandora station and drank Sunkist. And then, as we got closer, these huge, white spikes started shooting up out of the sides of the mountains. And then we got closer and realized what they were - wind turbines. I have to say, they were a little unnerving. There was literally no other sign of civilization in sight - but suddently these huge (I can't describe how big, honestly), ominous, strange-looking turbines. It felt strange to look at them. Futuristic. Do we believe in that technology enough to build such huge structures? I know that sounds ignorant, but that's truly what I was thinking. And I want to take you on our trip with us for a little bit.
After we checked in to our suite, we realized that we were playing the greatest game of "let's pretend" ever...as in, let's pretend we have enough money to be doing this. So we put on "Blankest Year" by Nada Surf and jumped on the bed like 12 year olds. And I smiled like a 12 year old. So did he.
We ate at the beautiful restaurant, got drinks at the lobby bar, took lots of walks, sat out on our deck and sipped champagne in our robes, got HEAVENLY massages at the spa, had margaritas at the pool, ordered tons of room service, and even closed the curtains a couple of times to make our room pitch black and put on some movies. It was so perfect.
On Saturday night, we had a knock at the door from room service. They had an amenity for us. The ladies in my HR office had ordered us a box of chocolate and... a boom box? The server walked in, plugged it in, pushed play, and left. And Nickel Creek singing our wedding song came on. We danced.
Normally I wouldn't write about all the details of a trip like this. Because I like to have a little life between Aaron and I that is only ours. But I have been reading Kate McDonald's -er, Kate Andre's blog - about her recent wedding and honeymoon and I've just felt so inspired by it and so grateful and God lets us experience love like this. And our trip just shook my soul and I wanted to write about it. I truly can't believe how much I love Aaron, and how much more I love him every day. On Saturday night we were sitting out on our porch. I had just taken a shower and my skin smelled so clean, and I sat there in my robe holding Aaron Michael's hand. It was completely silent outside. Only crickets and a huge full moon. And Aaron told me something that I will never forget as long as I live. I'm not going to write it in here; because it is a part of our secret life. But it broke my heart and mended it at the same time. It made me cry and laugh, and it made me know that I had always been going to find Aaron, and he had always been going to find me. And that he loves me in a way I will probably never understand. I don't know why I'm so lucky, but I won't question it.
It was a beautiful trip. Here's to many more years.
The outside of our suite
Bella Vista, the restaurant
Part of our room...
Where we took our walks
The Pool
Sunny!
My guy :)
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
A Thank Offering
"He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me
and he prepares the wayso that I may show him the salvation of God."
Psalm 50:23
I wrote that awful blog about pride a while ago, and I think gratitude is a baby step away from it. You can't be thankful for something if you thought you deserved it anyway, right? Or if you're too busy wondering what your neighbor got instead? According to Psalm 50, gratitude is also how God prepares us for what I like to call His Great Explanation. No laughing matter. Anyway, I don't know about all of that (though I hope to one day) but I do know that gratitude tends to lighten the heart. I'll take that.
So here is my thank offering for today.
1. Do you know that I have the sweetest, warmest, most curiously forgiving husband in the world? He is quite something. He loves baseball and eating huge amounts of spaghetti (tonight: the meat sauce variety. YUM-O.) He takes a childlike joy in grown-up things, like in working hard and in making me feel like I'm responsible for all his smiling. I am so grateful for how he works for us and how he takes care of me. Shoot - I am just grateful that he wants to hang out with me! I am grateful for his easy grace, his goofy jokes and his Kermit the Frog impression, though it could use a lot more work and a lot less 'air-time,' if you know what I mean. I'm thankful to God that He gave Aaron those handsome brown eyes, and an affinity for red meat. That was critical. I am not grateful for how God multiplies Aaron's dirty laundry daily, like He did to the loaves and the fishes. Please do not ask me about this. To recap: thankful for all the Aaron is and does and teaches me. Not thankful for amount of dirty laundry produced.
Next.
2. I am thankful for our jobs. I don't like getting up every day and doing the same thing, I just don't. But that is inconsequential compared to all the wonderful and undeserved blessings that our jobs provide us. I'm thankful God helps me get up every day (my roommate Ashley can attest to what a literal miracle this is) and I'm thankful that we can experience a kind of security that realistically, the vast majority of people in the world don't. What luck! (Luck = blessing that I am not capable to understand, so I figure the concept closest to it that I can somewhat comprehend is luck. Please don't theologize all up and down that part.)
3. I am thankful for this big mug that Aaron made for me when we painted pottery a few weeks ago. It has my name in cursive (no small feat for Aaron - ha) and a big guitar on it, outlined by bubble paint. And it is purple, which is obviously the world's superior color. And it holds just the right amount of hot chocolate, which I am about to take a sip of. (A ginger sip though. Because this will be the first sip of the day. Is it too hot? I will just have to take that gamble). Mmm. Not too hot.
4. I am thankful that I get to go to Myrtle Beach in a week and a half. Oh nelly, I just got chills typing that. This will be an unexpected vacation (I didn't know I was going until about a month ago) and that is the best kind. I am thankful not only for the fun it promises, but also for the excitement it is delivering even now! I'm telling you, going to bed tonight knowing I get to see Joey, Jenny, Mom, Dad and Eric in just a few short days is the sweetest kind of grace.
5. I am thankful for puppy Jethro. Yes, he has no concept of personal space and he often climbs on top of me at hilariously inopportune moments, but he has very floppy ears so all is forgiven. He has the best "YAY! YOU'RE HOME!" face as well, so it all evens out.
5. I am thankful for my Aunt Cris. Three years ago today, she passed away, and I am grateful for that too because she got to finish her wandering a lot sooner than most of us. (I am certain that is because she packed an unfathomable amount of loving others into an absurdly short period of time.) I'm thankful for those awesome rolls she baked for Thanksgiving every year (the warm and buttery variety...Yes Lord) but more than that, I'm thankful for what a graceful, forgiving and loving name she gave the rest of us Christians who frankly, should hang our heads for the slimy reputation we often give our faith and that Aunt Cris had to fight to disprove. I'm told that someone at her funeral told my uncle that she had only seen Christ alive in two people, and Aunt Cris was one of them. She had done it. Thanks Aunt Cris, and thanks God, for sharing her.
See? All that time I just spent discovering what I have to be thankful about was time spent NOT comparing myself, NOT dwelling on what I wish I had or that someone else didn't, and NOT burning my tongue on hot chocolate. Win.
What's your thank offering?
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