My knowledge of American History is shoddy at best. It's embarrassing and every once in a while I ask a question about history that makes my husband look at me like a dog watching tv. The ultimate example of this was a couple years ago, while we were cleaning out a trunk in his aunt's house, I picked up a Sacajawea dollar coin and said "Sacajawea...didn't she, like, help the Pilgrims or something??" Todd will never let me live this down but he always lets me off the hook a little by reminding me I was tired.
I was wathcing a tv show the other day and a character on the show was asked when WW2 was. His answer was late 60s-early 70s. I will admit I feel a little better.
Then, we played Cash Cab with Todd's mom and I think Sacajawea has been erased for a while and now Todd can feel embarrassed for a change. I asked his mom a question that was something like 'what sentiment do you get when pointing your middle and ring finger downwards and the rest of your fingers outwards?' This is admittedly a terribly worded question but if you put your hand in a high five and point the ring and middle finger down, you get I love you in American Sign Language.
I enjoyed watching as Todd yelled at his mom that she was doing it the wrong way and then asked me "In what language?" Uh...the language of love?
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
A Late Father's Day Musing
I was listening to NPR this morning on the way to work and a little vignette made me cry. Story Corps is a project where NPR is recording little exchanges between family members. Today's was a father and his adopted daughter and it made me cry. You can listen to it or read the story here. The girl was a hoot, completely precocious and adorable. Her father was silly and at the same time, tender.
I feel like I've always been called by adoption and I think part of that might be my rationalization of it in my own life. To me, when you are adopted that means you are wholly wanted. A person or a couple make a conscious decision to bring you into their lives, love you, care for you. There is no accident in adoption.
Don't get me wrong, I was WANTED by my mom, my grandma, my grandpa, my great-granny, but there is still a part of me that knows I was not totally wanted by my biological father and I forgive him this.
My biological father helped make me and for that I'm grateful but there are not a lot of other nice things I can say about him. When I talk about my dad, I'm referring always to my stepdad who wanted me more than the man who helped give me life. And that is a precious gift. I love you, dad.
I feel like I've always been called by adoption and I think part of that might be my rationalization of it in my own life. To me, when you are adopted that means you are wholly wanted. A person or a couple make a conscious decision to bring you into their lives, love you, care for you. There is no accident in adoption.
Don't get me wrong, I was WANTED by my mom, my grandma, my grandpa, my great-granny, but there is still a part of me that knows I was not totally wanted by my biological father and I forgive him this.
My biological father helped make me and for that I'm grateful but there are not a lot of other nice things I can say about him. When I talk about my dad, I'm referring always to my stepdad who wanted me more than the man who helped give me life. And that is a precious gift. I love you, dad.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Please hold your compliments
While shoe shopping one day with Todd we ran into friends of ours: A lady I work with, let's call her Christine, and her pseduo-adopted daughter. The daughter, let's call her Maya, was trying on boots. She had several boxes in front of her and I suggested a pair that both I and Christine's other daguhter have and like.
She tried them on, we thought they looked cute, then she tried on other pairs. now, if you know me, you know I am not subtle. I was taught to keep my opinion to myself unless someone asked me for it and when people ask me, I usually make srue they really want it before I respond.
So, in true Bean fashion I belt out over the aisle "Those are not good - they look like cat feet!"
....They were the shoes she'd worn in, the shoes she owned already.
OOPS.
She tried them on, we thought they looked cute, then she tried on other pairs. now, if you know me, you know I am not subtle. I was taught to keep my opinion to myself unless someone asked me for it and when people ask me, I usually make srue they really want it before I respond.
So, in true Bean fashion I belt out over the aisle "Those are not good - they look like cat feet!"
....They were the shoes she'd worn in, the shoes she owned already.
OOPS.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Just a couple-a kids
I feel too young to be married and too old to be young. That's confusing, I know, but there's truth in there. And it always makes me laugh when I am feeling my most grown-up is when little things remind me that Todd and I are both just big kids.
My dear friend Neddy and I have been training to run a 5K. It's hard to start running when you are decidedly not a runner. First, I have the boobs that skip a generation in my family (sorry mom) and running with boobs is...awkward (read: 2 sports bras). Next, I am not fond of sweat or the sun. I get all red and blotchy and sun burnt...much like that awful baby thing I told you about last time. It's not pretty.
We just ran our 5K on Saturday morning and we did really well, I was so proud of us. About 2/3 of the way through I was EXHAUSTED, really hot and then I looked up and said "KITTYYYYY!" while pointing at a cat I saw on top of its carpeted perch two stories up in a very posh house overlooking the ocean. Woosh, flash back to childhood, pointing out every cat and dog I could find. Todd and I actually do that all the time. When we lived with Kyle we'd take walks and report back to him every night how many cats we saw and how many we touched. Mostly we did it to annoy him because he was not so much an animal lover as an animal tolerator, but Todd's mom tells me that Todd has also loved animals since before he could talk as well.
This past weekend I was stressing out (surprise) about the Vegas trip for Nini's bachelorette - "I HAVE NO CLOTHES TO WEAR!!!" So Todd, wonderful husband that he is, took me EVERYWHERE to find stuff and after leaving Old Navy at 8:55pm or so he asked if we could stop at Toys-R-Us. I said sure but that they would undoubtedly be closed. They weren't! Turns out TRU is open until 11pm on Fridays and 10pm on Saturdays and I swear we ended up spending at least 40 minutes there. Todd took pictures of inaccurate Star Wars dioramas and sent them to his brother, I looked at how much better girls toys are now and we both just reveled in toys. I nearly bought a ball to play 4-square.
A couple weeks ago I was buying a hello kitty bag unearthed from that Target $1 bin and the cashier asked me "Do you have kids at home?" "....No...." "Don't worry, you're not the first adult to like Hello Kitty." Then he launched into a discussion of the video game Halo and how he thought they should make a Hello Kitty planet and call it Halo Kitty...this went on too long...
...but a couple weeks later when Todd found the toy he was looking for I joked that he better be ready for the cashier to ask if we have kids. He remarked that it felt a little like buying 4 (yes, FOUR) Star Wars toys was like buying condoms so he put them in the middle of the Target run between the paper towels and the ketchup. I thought to myself later though, buying 4 (yes, FOUR) Star Wars toys at almost-30 was the exact opposite of buying condoms :)
My dear friend Neddy and I have been training to run a 5K. It's hard to start running when you are decidedly not a runner. First, I have the boobs that skip a generation in my family (sorry mom) and running with boobs is...awkward (read: 2 sports bras). Next, I am not fond of sweat or the sun. I get all red and blotchy and sun burnt...much like that awful baby thing I told you about last time. It's not pretty.
We just ran our 5K on Saturday morning and we did really well, I was so proud of us. About 2/3 of the way through I was EXHAUSTED, really hot and then I looked up and said "KITTYYYYY!" while pointing at a cat I saw on top of its carpeted perch two stories up in a very posh house overlooking the ocean. Woosh, flash back to childhood, pointing out every cat and dog I could find. Todd and I actually do that all the time. When we lived with Kyle we'd take walks and report back to him every night how many cats we saw and how many we touched. Mostly we did it to annoy him because he was not so much an animal lover as an animal tolerator, but Todd's mom tells me that Todd has also loved animals since before he could talk as well.
This past weekend I was stressing out (surprise) about the Vegas trip for Nini's bachelorette - "I HAVE NO CLOTHES TO WEAR!!!" So Todd, wonderful husband that he is, took me EVERYWHERE to find stuff and after leaving Old Navy at 8:55pm or so he asked if we could stop at Toys-R-Us. I said sure but that they would undoubtedly be closed. They weren't! Turns out TRU is open until 11pm on Fridays and 10pm on Saturdays and I swear we ended up spending at least 40 minutes there. Todd took pictures of inaccurate Star Wars dioramas and sent them to his brother, I looked at how much better girls toys are now and we both just reveled in toys. I nearly bought a ball to play 4-square.
A couple weeks ago I was buying a hello kitty bag unearthed from that Target $1 bin and the cashier asked me "Do you have kids at home?" "....No...." "Don't worry, you're not the first adult to like Hello Kitty." Then he launched into a discussion of the video game Halo and how he thought they should make a Hello Kitty planet and call it Halo Kitty...this went on too long...
...but a couple weeks later when Todd found the toy he was looking for I joked that he better be ready for the cashier to ask if we have kids. He remarked that it felt a little like buying 4 (yes, FOUR) Star Wars toys was like buying condoms so he put them in the middle of the Target run between the paper towels and the ketchup. I thought to myself later though, buying 4 (yes, FOUR) Star Wars toys at almost-30 was the exact opposite of buying condoms :)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
FREE BABY!
I was an ugly newborn. Pink, vaguely mole-rat-looking, splotchy, just ugly. So when I see really cute babies, I swoon. And, let's be real: African American babies are the cutest of all. Right around 3 years old is best. Right when they're really chatting and they still have chunky baby features.
We went to a friend's graduation party this weekend and I met and fell in love with Dallas. He had a foam sword that he carried around and tried to slay everyone with. He found me and tried to kill me and then I chased him for about an hour. I taught him the acting skill of fake dying. That was amusing. Then we went to leave.
Me: Dallas, do you want to come live with us?
Him: No!
Me: Please?
Him: OK
Then we were talking to his mom:
Me: Your son is adorable. I asked him if he'd come with me but he said no.
Mom: Dallas, do you want to go home with them?
Him: Yes. I'm brining my sword.
Mom: OK
Him: Where's my jacket???
Be careful what you wish for! Like a teen mom, I hadn't thought of what life with a 3-year-old might be like so I'm glad his mom decided to keep him. I felt like I had to sneak out, betraying the little fella.
We went to a friend's graduation party this weekend and I met and fell in love with Dallas. He had a foam sword that he carried around and tried to slay everyone with. He found me and tried to kill me and then I chased him for about an hour. I taught him the acting skill of fake dying. That was amusing. Then we went to leave.
Me: Dallas, do you want to come live with us?
Him: No!
Me: Please?
Him: OK
Then we were talking to his mom:
Me: Your son is adorable. I asked him if he'd come with me but he said no.
Mom: Dallas, do you want to go home with them?
Him: Yes. I'm brining my sword.
Mom: OK
Him: Where's my jacket???
Be careful what you wish for! Like a teen mom, I hadn't thought of what life with a 3-year-old might be like so I'm glad his mom decided to keep him. I felt like I had to sneak out, betraying the little fella.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Behold: The Cryptic Reconnect
As Nicole says, I get all the good stuff.
It used to be every Christmas or so during college when old boyfriends, realizing they were back home, alone, would feel compelled to contact me. "Hey....it's been so long....what are you up to?" (Read: Are you seeing anyone??). I say this with no ego, it just used to happen.
And now, with the advent of facebook, the trend continues. Now that I'm older it's more with old friends. Remember the girl I FORCED to go to the health center to get a pregnancy test after unprotected sex with her boyfriend who refused to speak to me after that? Well, we're facebook friends now!
So today, when I checked facebook and had the most cryptic message from someone with 2 friends, no photo and a fake name, I was freaked out. I at first thought it was spam but then the details of the message were so clear and real that I was left in a "do I know you?" moment.
Message from: FAKE NAME
Title: My name is not FAKE NAME
Message text: I do recall however, enjoying a film with you and "I haaaaaaate it" one, Punch Drunk Love, and then being assaulted by an angry woman Bible. See if that jogs the old noodle! Dana Point representin!
.....
What the what?
So I just wrote back: Am I supposed to guess who you are?
Of course, it turned out to be a friend I didn't mind reconnecting with who does amazing charity work and lives on the other side of the planet. No implied creepy booty call.
It's funny how reconnects like this take you back. The night he was talking about, my BFF and another girl I'd been trying to befriend went to his house to watch that movie. The other girl was a nutty Holy Roller and used to be SO MAD if anything was said that was anything but Christly. That night we drove home and she refused to speak to Nicole and I. She ended up dating the best friend of my old boyfriend who was a real jerk, karma rules.
Todd told me: You know too many people. When you only know 4 people, you can be certain that crap is spam.
Nicole, of course, guessed the mystery person on the first try.
In sum, if you want to be my friend, just call me or email me. I am actually quite nice.
It used to be every Christmas or so during college when old boyfriends, realizing they were back home, alone, would feel compelled to contact me. "Hey....it's been so long....what are you up to?" (Read: Are you seeing anyone??). I say this with no ego, it just used to happen.
And now, with the advent of facebook, the trend continues. Now that I'm older it's more with old friends. Remember the girl I FORCED to go to the health center to get a pregnancy test after unprotected sex with her boyfriend who refused to speak to me after that? Well, we're facebook friends now!
So today, when I checked facebook and had the most cryptic message from someone with 2 friends, no photo and a fake name, I was freaked out. I at first thought it was spam but then the details of the message were so clear and real that I was left in a "do I know you?" moment.
Message from: FAKE NAME
Title: My name is not FAKE NAME
Message text: I do recall however, enjoying a film with you and "I haaaaaaate it" one, Punch Drunk Love, and then being assaulted by an angry woman Bible. See if that jogs the old noodle! Dana Point representin!
.....
What the what?
So I just wrote back: Am I supposed to guess who you are?
Of course, it turned out to be a friend I didn't mind reconnecting with who does amazing charity work and lives on the other side of the planet. No implied creepy booty call.
It's funny how reconnects like this take you back. The night he was talking about, my BFF and another girl I'd been trying to befriend went to his house to watch that movie. The other girl was a nutty Holy Roller and used to be SO MAD if anything was said that was anything but Christly. That night we drove home and she refused to speak to Nicole and I. She ended up dating the best friend of my old boyfriend who was a real jerk, karma rules.
Todd told me: You know too many people. When you only know 4 people, you can be certain that crap is spam.
Nicole, of course, guessed the mystery person on the first try.
In sum, if you want to be my friend, just call me or email me. I am actually quite nice.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
oh dear Jesus
So. Bloody. Overwhelmed.
I spent a good hour last night sobbing about how overwhelmed I feel. There's really nothing more pathetic than a grown woman driving and crying. I obviously knew these two weeks would be difficult, but I don't think I planned for how awful I'd actually feel.
I feel like I'm not doing anything well. I keep skipping out on my exercise plan, the apartment is a horror film mess, I'm behind in reading for one class and have a giant paper looming, I thought I was on the right track in the other class and turns out my paper is terrible and nowhere near completion, I'd tried to finish something early so the professor could look at that but we didn't get to it because of how awful my other assignment was, I haven't gotten anything together for mother's day, I haven't paid any of the bills, it's just a sad state of affairs over here.
I'll get through it, I always do but it's more painful than usual. Thank god for Todd. And for the cats. Buggy just sat next to me and told me a million stories while I pet her. Last night, during the pathetic crying jag, Todd took my shoes off while I lay face down on the bed sobbing like a child and helped me into some pajamas. What a mess.
As a pallate cleanser, please enjoy the following article from my favorite author about his view on education. I have a brain crush on Dave Eggers and wish I was running 836 Valencia. DREAM Job.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/
I spent a good hour last night sobbing about how overwhelmed I feel. There's really nothing more pathetic than a grown woman driving and crying. I obviously knew these two weeks would be difficult, but I don't think I planned for how awful I'd actually feel.
I feel like I'm not doing anything well. I keep skipping out on my exercise plan, the apartment is a horror film mess, I'm behind in reading for one class and have a giant paper looming, I thought I was on the right track in the other class and turns out my paper is terrible and nowhere near completion, I'd tried to finish something early so the professor could look at that but we didn't get to it because of how awful my other assignment was, I haven't gotten anything together for mother's day, I haven't paid any of the bills, it's just a sad state of affairs over here.
I'll get through it, I always do but it's more painful than usual. Thank god for Todd. And for the cats. Buggy just sat next to me and told me a million stories while I pet her. Last night, during the pathetic crying jag, Todd took my shoes off while I lay face down on the bed sobbing like a child and helped me into some pajamas. What a mess.
As a pallate cleanser, please enjoy the following article from my favorite author about his view on education. I have a brain crush on Dave Eggers and wish I was running 836 Valencia. DREAM Job.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)