Monday, December 28, 2009
Revealed
I shed a couple of tears when this came off the other day. In order for you, the reader, to understand why, let me illuminate you.
I own this t-shirt:
If you can't read the print, it says "Beards are sexy". And they are.
When J and I first started dating, before the L word had passed between us, I sent him drawings like this one:
That's me, with the crazy hair and the bouquet. That is J, as a peanut with a beard. The bouquet is a love offering to the beard.
Since I've known him, he has had a full (to crazy full) beard. I have to admit that his beard single-handedly earned him a second date. The beard and the sweetness.
I think I cried mostly because it was so shocking to see his face for the first time. (That, and the thought of looking like an old lady next to him. Someone might arrest me for robbing the cradle. I am two whole years older in the first place.)
And that was the end of it. I felt like I had a new boyfriend. One that was just as nice, but who was now colder in the middle of the 30ยบ weather we are now having. Poor little beardless peanut.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Today I Turn 30
When you are 14, 30 seems so far away. You have such big ideas for your life and who you will be at that point. I figured I would be married (and super succesful, of course). At 28 actually, that way I would have two years of marriage and have my kids starting at 30. I had everything planned out.
When I was 22, I had a full set of silverware. And a complete kitchen set up, nice pots and pans and everything. This morning I mangled one of my 3 (total) spoons in the garbage disposal. Witness the pathetic evidence above. Now, I could use this as a metaphor on how life never turns out how you would like. But I'm not going to do that. Because that would be depressing, and not at all how I view things.
When you are a teenager, and share a room with another teenager, it is impossible to like that other teenager. But when you get older those things fade into the distance. And if you are lucky, you find a friend. A best friend.
The friendships formed in the crucible of middle school are not often lasting. But if they do last, you are given the gift of someone who knows you like no one else can. This person was a witness to your transformation into an adult, and you are the witness for their life. This person has seen your heartaches from the inside.
They love you, even through your difficult and unhappy early 20s.
You can spend all day with this person and not speak a word (although, that would be a little weird). You have stories and a shared history that create a sense of foundation. If everything goes wrong in your life, you will know that this person still thinks you are the greatest thing since stinky cheese.
When Gunter was a puppy, he chewed up my glasses. When I came back into the room and saw the destruction that he had wrought, I wasn't angry, not even for a second. Because I loved him, and realized that he didn't know what he was doing. Having Gunter made me more forgiving. Being responsible for another life, even one so small and silly as a pug, helped me to grow up. I could stay out late and party, but if I did that I couldn't remain the person I wanted to be in my eyes and in the eyes of my dog. If I neglected him, I would be the type of person that neglects a small helpless creature, a creature that depended on me for everything in his life. It was easier than I thought to be a good person. (It's harder with the second pug for some reason, perhaps I am meant to only have one child.....?)
If you aren't lucky enough to find the love of your life in grade school, we all know that it can be years adrift on a "sea of heart break" (to quote Johnny Cash....lost love and loneliness....sea of tears...). You can spend all of your twenties, breaking your heart over and over again. I suppose you can spend your whole life that way. But with each bruising, I think that we get smarter. That we refine what we want in another person. And we definitely become less tolerant of bullsh*t. I thought about posting multiple pictures of the different people I broke my heart over. But when I uploaded them, I realized that it made me look like a tramp. So I decided to post a picture of just one...as of yet, heart still unbroken.
My life is nothing like what I had imagined it would be ten years ago. And I'm glad. I think the person that I wanted myself to be would be an unhappy, snotty person. Somehow, the strange twists and turns and hard knocks of the the last ten years have saved me from myself. Funny how that happens.
When I was 22, I had a full set of silverware. And a complete kitchen set up, nice pots and pans and everything. This morning I mangled one of my 3 (total) spoons in the garbage disposal. Witness the pathetic evidence above. Now, I could use this as a metaphor on how life never turns out how you would like. But I'm not going to do that. Because that would be depressing, and not at all how I view things.
When you are a teenager, and share a room with another teenager, it is impossible to like that other teenager. But when you get older those things fade into the distance. And if you are lucky, you find a friend. A best friend.
The friendships formed in the crucible of middle school are not often lasting. But if they do last, you are given the gift of someone who knows you like no one else can. This person was a witness to your transformation into an adult, and you are the witness for their life. This person has seen your heartaches from the inside.
They love you, even through your difficult and unhappy early 20s.
You can spend all day with this person and not speak a word (although, that would be a little weird). You have stories and a shared history that create a sense of foundation. If everything goes wrong in your life, you will know that this person still thinks you are the greatest thing since stinky cheese.
When Gunter was a puppy, he chewed up my glasses. When I came back into the room and saw the destruction that he had wrought, I wasn't angry, not even for a second. Because I loved him, and realized that he didn't know what he was doing. Having Gunter made me more forgiving. Being responsible for another life, even one so small and silly as a pug, helped me to grow up. I could stay out late and party, but if I did that I couldn't remain the person I wanted to be in my eyes and in the eyes of my dog. If I neglected him, I would be the type of person that neglects a small helpless creature, a creature that depended on me for everything in his life. It was easier than I thought to be a good person. (It's harder with the second pug for some reason, perhaps I am meant to only have one child.....?)
If you aren't lucky enough to find the love of your life in grade school, we all know that it can be years adrift on a "sea of heart break" (to quote Johnny Cash....lost love and loneliness....sea of tears...). You can spend all of your twenties, breaking your heart over and over again. I suppose you can spend your whole life that way. But with each bruising, I think that we get smarter. That we refine what we want in another person. And we definitely become less tolerant of bullsh*t. I thought about posting multiple pictures of the different people I broke my heart over. But when I uploaded them, I realized that it made me look like a tramp. So I decided to post a picture of just one...as of yet, heart still unbroken.
My life is nothing like what I had imagined it would be ten years ago. And I'm glad. I think the person that I wanted myself to be would be an unhappy, snotty person. Somehow, the strange twists and turns and hard knocks of the the last ten years have saved me from myself. Funny how that happens.
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Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Colder than (blank)...please fill in.
But pugs don't feel cold apparently. They get so excited to go outside to go potty that they don't want to come in. Poor things, I just can't take them to the park when it's under 30 degrees out. They would love it, Gunter would anyway, but it's kills me. Even if I'm wrapped up, my back gets so tense from the cold that it causes big problems. So the pugs are trapped inside for now. Poor pugs.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Housekeeping
Lest you dear readers think having pugs is a walk in Cuteness Park all day long, let me educate you.
Pugs shed enough to make another full pug out of the hair approximately every two weeks. If you ever adopt a pug, be ready to never have a clean house ever ever again. Just in case you didn't get the scale of the pile of hair pictured above, I made Gunter pose with it to give you some idea.
On another front, I'm trying something new. I'm so busy that I've found myself subsisting on burritos from ChaChaCha. Which is perfectly fine with me, seeing as I looooove mexican food. But it's not terribly healthy. I thought about joining a CSA, but I didn't want to have to deal with 5lbs of turnips every other week. So I decided to try the online shopping and home delivery that New Seasons offers. (New Seasons is this awesome grocery chain we have here in Portland. Think Whole Foods meets small co-op, times that by an awesome factor of 10). Turns out it's fantastic. I can shop online for every food item I could ever want, specifying the weight of the veg I want, what size of bulk cheese, etc. And then someone goes and collects it together and brings it to my house. How great is that?!
It cost 9 dollars. I figure if having groceries in the house keeps me from eating out one time, I will have made my money on it. Love it, love New Seasons, love Oregon. (But for all of you right coasters who think moving to Portland is a good idea...you will never make it through 9 months of gloomy rain. Trust me. Stay where you are.)
And they gave me a carton of ice cream free.
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