Speechless
Yeah… first day playing with the kitten has left me basically mushybrained and speechless, so I’m not going to attempt to write anything worthy of attention. I’ll just say……
G’night!!
Posts Tagged ‘love’
The Good Life
“And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.” - Kahlil Gibran, “The Prophet”
Eddie and I were talking tonight, and we started talking about how marrying someone is choosing that person to be your family (in the wake of a fun-filled day of Nelson family antics). If you do it right, you’re choosing that person forever. As Ani Difranco says “And when we signed up for forever, we had no idea it was in years.”
It made me think of Nonna and Papa, Ed’s late grandparents. If I could have any kind of marriage, it would be modeled after theirs. They met young, married young, and had a child that was the sun and the moon to them. They were blessed with a wonderful daughter-in-law (now my wonderful mother-in-law), and two grandsons whom never failed to make them proud. In return, they never failed to let them know. They celebrated a golden wedding anniversary, and even in the twilight of their lives, still held in their hearts the one person who was their True North- Papa used to talk to Nonna in his sleep after she’d passed on. They will forever be carried in my heart as the quintessential “little old Italian married couple.” I am lucky enough to have had their example. I now wear Nonna’s engagement ring, which every day is a reminder of what we are working to build. If I could have a marriage like that, with three generations of love, a lifetime partner at my side, and a proud legacy to leave to my grandchildren, that would the one for me.
That is not to say they never had a fight, that they never said unkind words or went to bed angry. It’s not to say there weren’t days where they probably looked over their coffee cup at the family they chose, and gave solid consideration to running for the hills. Those aren’t things the grandkids ever hear about of course, and I’m sure there are things that never left the walls of Hancock Street. That’s the reality of the bond, though. Real marriages don’t come without the bumps and bruises. Those bumps and bruises are the balance by which to judge the times of love and harmony. They’re the barometer you use to measure what gives your life value, and lets you know that what you’re getting out is worth all that you’ve put in. Gibran didn’t write “When love beckons to you, follow him, because it’s going to be a breeze.” Nothing worth having ever is.
I’m happy to say that Ed and I have been blessed with mostly smooth sailing the past nine years (two of those as man and wife). I’ve written about the “small moments” in the day before, and how important they are. We crack each other up, listen to each other’s “bad day at the office” stories, get each other asprin and water when a headache comes on. We cut each other slack, and have a hard time saying no to the other (see Kittens and new Palm phones for further details). We’re off to a good start.
So even with bumps and bruises, the late nights and hard moments, I would still wish for a marriage like Nonna and Papa’s. They left behind something that most of us, especially in our youth, simply cannot comprehend. The trick is realizing it as your living it, and striving every day to make something worthy, something that your grandchildren will aspire to.
The Educational Parade
A co-worker looked at me today and said “So.. when is your semester over?”. I laughed and replied “Two years.”
I was kidding, but it made me realize that I really am opting for the mule’s path to academic success. I’ve decided I want to be done with the rest of my BS and also my MA in two years, which seems completely ridiculous, but is actually doable as long as I don’t take any breaks. I’ve got something like 17.75 classes left for my BS (a mathematical phenomenon I will never understand), which works out to about 8 semesters of accelerated classes, AKA 4 regular semesters (since Northeastern Uni is cool enough to offer accelerated online courses.) So far, so good. Then it’s on to my MA, which should be in Education, but that remains to be seen. Marion and I have been plotting GRE’s, which makes the whole finishing my undergrad seem much more real, and very close!
Even despite the grueling pace, I realized recently that I’m not unhappy with my classes or the time that I’m putting into them, not even a shred. Sure, I have some nights that only see 4 hours of sleep, and I’ve torched more than my share of midnight oil in pursuit of that mirage we call “a social life”, but at the end of the day, I’m still really happy I’m doing this, and I still feel as though I’m working towards something that is going to change my life - something that will help me change the lives of others. Ed jokes that he’s going to need a hard-hat if I take on any more classes, but for the most part I think I manage to not be completely hideous. I don’t watch much television any more, but I’m coping. It’s not like ‘Lost’ ever made much sense to begin with, so catching bits and pieces really doesn’t put me at any more of a disadvantage than watching intently while following along with LostPedia on my laptop.
I recently found out I’m even getting a little atta-girl for the work I’ve done thus far. I got a letter in the mail the other day from MCC, saying that I’d won the English Award for Outstanding Achievement. Finally, my beefy GPA pays off! I’m really quite pleased with the award. I’ve even got a spot at the honors awards banquet tomorrow night! I just hope they make some extra munchies, because I’m going to be blazing through the canapes like there was no tomorrow.
The part that keeps amusing me though, is that I wasn’t even going to attend commencement for my AA, because I didn’t want to take the vacation time away from my job to go to the weekday ceremony. But was I going to pass up getting an award after doing all the work? Hell no! Well, here’s the funny part: Now, because of the award, not only do I have to be at the Commencement, but also at the rehearsal - because they’re going to make me sit on stage like a monkey in a board and robe for a few hours apparently?
So, my day off just became a day-and-a-half. So much for conservation of vacation time! I catch myself protesting this in my head, saying “I don’t have time for this! I have a family reunion to go to this year! I have a friend coming in from the UK! I can’t use 12 hours of vacation! C’mon guys! You’re killin’ me!”
But even though I’m crabbing about the stretched-thin time, it hit me that I’m still loving what I do, and I’m still pluggin’. I realize how much of a blessing that is, and how good it feels to have someone pat you on the back for it every so often. There’s something really important to be said for loving a hard life for the sake of itself. So, whatever it is that is worth the sacrifice for us, worth the late nights and tired brains and aching bodies, that is what we should commit ourselves to do, because there is a singular achievement to be found in nursing those sore muscles and foggy brains. I’m just glad I’ve found what it is for me.
Even His Feet be Sweet
Okay so I said my last post a-la-dessert picture wasn’t going to be my real post, and I wasn’t lying. Tah dah!
But it is about that last post, in a roundabout fashion. I’ve been reading a lot of Freud today while writing a monstrous paper for my Abnormal Psychology in Literature class, so be prepared - it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Freud was big on sexual satisfaction, and the idea that the Id wants us to be happy all day, every day (no matter what the stupid Ego and Superego have to say about it, those chumps). But what about just regular old life satisfaction though? What about the kind that comes from your partner taking a playful swat at your butt as you walk by in a towel, or stopping in their tracks every so often just to plant a kiss on you? Did we lose that somewhere along the road, maybe after the off-ramp from Freud, somewhere along the Sexual Revolution Memorial Highway?
I was contemplating this (though not so eloquently) as I was kissing Ed’s feet today. It wasn’t in a sexy-freaky Jerry Springer fetish way (we got to that earlier in the afternoon). It just happened to be the closest part of him to me when I got the urge to lay one on him. It was all of the affection with none of the getting up off the couch. He giggled, I giggled. It was good! We’re sort of like that… touchy-feely mushballs when we’re not sparring or sleeping. We do nice things for each other (see dessert nachos), bust chops about useless trivia, steal the food off each other’s plates, surprise each other with books and CDs. And we play a lot!
“Everyone needs to get this if they don’t have it now.” I thought. If someone is missing out on the little touches and the fits of the giggles in bed at night, then we need to start filling Cosmo with tips on how to get there. Instead of splashy magazine covers talking about sizzling new sex moves that require bungie cords and hammocks, why are we not talking about “The Top Ten Ways to Steal a Kiss”? Aren’t those the really fulfilling things?
Don’t get me wrong, Freud and I definitely agree that everyone needs a good roll in the hay at regular intervals. But I think the sweet things are just as important.
