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Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts

June 25, 2010

The asker gets asked

[image credit]

And then,

In the middle of party prep, on Friday night toward Saturday morning,

Mr. A stole me away for the evening, took me out on the town and asked me to spend my life with him.

Yes, dear reader. The Asker got asked.

I threw my arms around him and whispered, "Yes!"

Two weeks have passed and I've been dying to tell you, but I had to catch up first on the older blog posts. There will be much more to write: about wedding prep, negotiations with vendors, reflections on certain rituals, keeping costs down, figuring out how to reconcile different people's schedules with various needs and desires... all while working full time to launch a business... and plan a future... and ask daily...

But for now I am simply thanking the stars for Mr. A, who asked me to dance five years ago and again that early Saturday morning.

The rest, as they say, is future.

May 07, 2010

Bliss


Finito!!!!

Dissertation written, revised, edited and approved!!!!

With three golden signatures, one from each of my committee members, on the critical Dissertation Approval Form!!!!!!!!!

Thank you, dear readers, for your encouraging comments and notes back in December. You motivated me when I most needed it, and for that gesture, for your patience and for your continued support throughout this graduate school journey, you get a special line in my acknowledgements, along with my sincere gratitude.

So... I just realized this is my last Friday as a student. I'm now back on campus in Boston, staying with friends. I'll be here until Commencement (with detours up and down the east coast to see people). That's right: Come late May I'll don the funny hat, smile for the birdie. I was ready to skip it, but Mr. A told me I had no choice in the matter. And when Mr. A asks for something, it's very hard for me to say no.

My friends, this evening, made pasta and fresh mushroom-cherry tomato sauce (both from scratch, mmmm) and we watched a movie.

On Tuesday I hand the whole thing in to to the registrar.

And then I'm getting drunk.

Next on my list: everything I've been putting off for months and years like reading mystery novels, writing, writing, writing (stuff that requires no footnotes, like blog posts and short stories and handwritten letters and lists of movies I'm going to see), learning to bake bread, getting back to the business I just launched, learning a new language, dancing tango regularly, riding our bikes along the boardwalk, working my way through that massive stack of magazines with a Meadow Mule by my side and my cell phone off, making a website for my mom, going to museums again, learning about investing in general and specific, watching some TED talks, making the duck and portobello lasagna I set my eye on in 2006 and chicken pot pie and tom kha soup and pizza dough fritters, sleeping on various couches in various cities in various countries, working my butt off for fun and profit, roadtripping through the South, trying to take photographs like these, churning butter in Amish country with my little sister, visiting my dad in Texas and actually spending time with him (last time I went was a month before this deadline so you can guess how that went), eating tons of pinkberry, buying paints and using them, cleaning out my closet and making a trip to Goodwill, playing some piano, recording stories from my grandmother for my future grandchildren, getting something for friend who has a new baby from my other friend who has a new store, watching Hulu on weekends and taking a break to work (and not the opposite), watching season one of The Wire since everyone tells me I have to, digitizing all those VHS cassettes and giving them to the fam, having a Katherine Hepburn movie marathon, eating brunch -- brunch! -- and tracking down a paycheck from 2008 I never received, sewing on all the fallen buttons that I've stashed in the button box, sleeping in until 2, selling a few bookcases on Craigslist, buying a few books on Amazon, going back to Italy, walking or biking everywhere in my neighborhood instead of driving because I'm in no rush to get there, infusing some vodka with tiny tasty red things, going hiking somewhere lush, staying in a cabin for two whole weeks and sitting on its deck and outlining a novel I'll know never write while secretly hoping I might, fixing that little tear on the slipcover of my armchair I haven't had time to think about until now, regularly checking and probably indulging a little too often in Gilt, taking flamenco lessons again, spending the morning at my favorite oceanfront cafe and watching the waves crash, and finally finally finally not having a deadline tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

December 22, 2008

Santa, can I sit on your lap?

December 22. Day 175.

I haven't sat on Santa's lap in about two decades, maybe more, but as The Daily Asker, I can't really conceive of a holiday season where I don't talk with the big guy.

"Are you up for an adventure?" I asked my friend M this afternoon, right before we met up for coffee. He's a filmmaker who lives in LA, and he came back to San Diego for the holidays.

"Always."

He met me at my car and we changed course from Peet's Coffee to the UTC Mall. Destination: Santa's Pavillion.

On the drive over, I thought about what I'd ask Santa for this year. My thoughts started veering toward the kinds of things that are hard to wrap up and put under the tree -- good health for my mom, a job for my sister, job security for my dad, a PhD in the spring, my voice back. On the material side, a bunch of books I like, some quality coffee or tea.

We parked at Macy's and walked through the menswear section, where it appeared a stampede of ravenous girlfriends had made their way. Clothes were falling off tables, cashmere sweaters lay limp -- picked through like yesterday's seafood special.

"This is why I don't like malls," M said. "I did all my Christmas shopping this year online."

Once inside the mall, we walked past a small booth with what looked like an "upscale contemporary" living room inside. Did Santa get a makeover? Where were the tinsel and elves?!! But I was mistaken -- it was empty, a showroom.

And then, we spotted it. The pavillion. The red and green foil. His chair. The promotional photo packages. We took a place in line - somehow I had forgotten about the line, or didn't think I'd actually force a baby to wait to see his first Santa. But so it was.

The kid in front of us was about 5 and squirming in his father's arms.

"Did you know children find beards universally terrifying?" M informed me.

As we waited, we started talking to a grandmother waiting for her daughter and her infant to see Santa. She asked us if we have kids.

"No. Maybe next year," I replied, an inside joke with M since we looked like a happy young couple, but I'm with Mr. A, and M is currently unattached (and gay).

Then, the granny advised us one kid is best, none is better.

"A pregnant woman walked into my deli yesterday and her credit card was declined," Granny said, to illustrate. "She apologized and said it must be the Target purchases.

"Did you buy furniture for the nursery?" Granny asked, making conversation.

"No. $2,0000 in toys for my kids. Already have five. One more one the way," the woman replied.

Our turn was next. We wished her happy holidays and approached Santa. M went in first and sat on his lap.

"For Christmas this year, I'd like affordable health insurance."

"So would I," the jolly guy chuckled.

My turn. I took a seat, leaned in and asked.

"Ho Ho Ho! I'll see what I can do!" he promised.

Gained: hope my Christmas wish will come true.