Monthly Archives: February 2009

the best thing about today, and any OTHER day, too.

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My parents were married 39 years ago today.

It’s crazy to imagine spending that much time with ANYONE… seeing as I’ve only been on the planet for 34 years.

Heck, they’ve been hanging out together longer than I’ve been doing anything.

And they love each other, which is a rare thing these days.

And they are best friends, which is a rare thing these days.

And they talk about everything, and know everything about one another, which is a rare thing these days.

And they are committed to forever… which is the rarest thing of all.

They haven’t been able to afford crazy getaways, or giant romantic gestures, or expensive dinners out, or lavish gifts at any point in their marriage, because they’ve chosen to do things with their lives that pay out more in joy and peace than in cash. I don’t think they see those things as the key to a great relationship, anyway.

But they do have their things: little trips to Cannon Beach, OR; their shared ice cream moments; their day-off drives; their rarer but always memorable gift-giving moments; their phone calls when either of them isn’t at home, just to check in; their reputation for being the most solid couple in any group of friends they’ve ever had; and their devoted love for their kids.

When my brother married my sister-in-law, Carey, I remember saying in my “Welcome to the Family!” toast that — in addition to a great husband — she had lucked into an amazing set of parents.

I can’t think of two people who are more concerned for the happiness and well-being of the people they’ve brought into this world… and the people those people choose to be with.

When I introduced them to Gradon this Christmas — even though we’re neither married, nor engaged — he became another one of their kids. They got him a birthday present. They celebrated when he got a new job. Heck, he is wearing a scarf my mom made for him as I type this, on the chilly streets of Boston, 3,000 miles away.

And it’s not because they’re desperate to get me “married off”, or anything like that (though I know they’ll be happy when that happens.)

They’re just quick to love. Generous with their love. Open with their love.

They do it with everyone.

Especially one another.

I won’t pretend that they haven’t had to face a ton of challenges together, or that they never squabble. Because they DO squabble. That’s inevitable, I think. I am always a little suspicious of couples who claim they never argue or disagree on anything. Stuff is going to come up.

But that stuff is such a small part of who they are.

The rest of their lives together shows them to be loving, wise, thoughtful, silly, sassy, chatty, fierce, gracious, crazy and seriously, seriously hilarious.

I love you, Mom and Dad.

Thank you for loving one another, and showing me the best example of true devotion I have ever seen. Thank you for putting one another first, and making your relationship a priority. Thank you for giving me a foundation to build my life on, and huge doses of grace every step of the way. Thank you for accepting the person I care about, and for supporting us in our plans and hopes.

May this next year bring you more of all the good things you love, and much less of what you don’t. May you be healthy, happy, safe and secure.

And may I continue to learn from you what love really looks like. Not red hearts and chocolates and roses love. Real love. True love.

Love that lasts at LEAST 39 years.

xoxox,

Meg

friday love list: because it’s all topical and stuff.

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Every Friday, I do a Love List. Well, almost every Friday. Most Fridays. At least SOME of them. HEY, STOP HASSLING ME.

Why do I do it?

Well, it’s a good way to shake off the Weekday Angst and set yourself up for some Weekend Happy.

And it just so happens that this Friday Love List comes a day before the World’s Most Commercial Exploitation of Love (besides The Notebook)… so why not do it up in style?

(Note: It also happens to be my parents’ anniversary. No, they aren’t cheesy. Yes, they are awesome. And whoa… it’s been 39 years. Beat THAT!)

This year, I actually happen to be in love for Valentine’s Day, so there’s even MORE reason to seize the day.

Or I could just say that I’m counteracting Friday the 13th.

Any and all reasons work.

So, without further ado…

THINGS I LOVE

This guy.

My mom and dad, who inspire me by being best friends AND happily married, though it all.

New York cheesecake

Soft, warm pashminas.

Random haiku. The more random the better.

Steak tartare.

Calla lillies, peonies, hydrangeas, and anything else they sell here.

Sunny, dry weather. Bliss. Cold or warm.

Eric, Matty, Mike and the rest of the good guys in my life.

Dreams you can fall back into on a Saturday morning when you realize it’s okay to sleep in.

Boston, Boston, Boston and All Her Residents.

Good scissors.

Ballet flats of all kinds.

Vitamins C, D and E.

Short people.

This song:

This cat:

Goldfish. The cracker AND the pet.

Takeout of all kinds.

Huge handbags in unexpected colours

This, in handfuls. It will change your whole life.

This, for springtime.

Make sure to share YOUR love list with us in comments. If you put one up on your blog, leave us the link!

oh, yeah, blogging EVERY DAY. i’m so on it.

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Wow, I’m really good at this regular blogging thing, huh?

Throw in a bout of pneumonia, a bunch of deadlines and a trip to Boston to see my buddy up there, and I’m Queen AWOL of the Internets.

Allow me to catch up with a point-form extravaganza of sorts (though I am pretty sure I remain pointless):

    I had a great time in Boston, although I’d like to address the fact that I spent 25% more on everything than all the Americans I was with because OF THE DAMN DOLLAR. Frick. Also? Some dude catcalled me when I was shoveling snow (yes, I shovel snow. No, I’m taken.) with the following witty opening line: “Nice to see a woman who knows her place!” I gave him the finger and shouted something back I would not say to my mother. He beamed. I think I am fitting in nicely, no?

    I’m realizing that my fear of dentists is not pain-related. It’s bill-related.

    Pneumonia appears to be gone, but I have a wicked cough and a ton of something in my sinuses that probably isn’t marzipan. So either I’m just transitioning into a new set of symptoms for the same ailment, or I have a follow-up cold. Which is so thorough of me.

    I continue to be the person the crazy people want to talk to, in any public place. I am a Crazy Magnet. I am magnetically crazy?

    I have decided that ballet flats need to become my new flip flop… though I am short enough that most people would recommend heels. “They’re slimming!” “Yeah, so are treadmills, but you can’t wear them to parties.” I’m sure Gradon wishes I would choose sexier shoe options, but hey… he likes Converse and lace-up Oxfords for HIS man feet, so why should I be a slave to the stiletto?

    The skincare blog is headed for reality — we have our URL and our hosting, and I’m setting it up! Stay tuned for the big release!

    I’m officially tired of three things to do with my hair: a) the ten gray hairs that sit at my temples, reminding me I am 34 and that my father went gray early (THANKS, DAD); b) the shortness of it that requires me to style it AND prevents me from ponytailing or curling it because the former won’t work and the latter makes me look like Shirley Temple crossed with a poodle, and c) the mild frizziness that somehow plagues me, even though my hair is SUPPOSED TO BE STRAIGHT.

    I tried Marshmallow Fluff. It wasn’t as fluffy as I imagined it would be. But it was very marshmallow-y. And sticky. I got some on my eyebrow (don’t ask), and a pigeon got stuck on my face when I went for a walk.

    Speaking of, pigeons in Boston are way less aggressive than Vancouver pigeons, and MUCH more sedentary. I actually nudged one out of the way with my shoe when he was blocking a woman trying to push her stroller down the sidewalk, and the fat little dude ROLLED like a donut out of the way. If I’d have done that in Vancouver? The pigeon would have eaten a) the baby b) my face and c) any passing vehicles.

    Four things I longed to say in the midst of air travel but did not: 1. DON’T PUT YOUR SEAT ALL THE WAY BACK UNLESS YOU ARE IN EXECUTIVE CLASS, YOU JACKASS. I HAVE SHORT LEGS BUT I WILL NEED *SOME* ROOM. 2. Sir, your sandwich is so smelly that I feel as though I am trapped in someone’s armpit. And when I say someone, I mean someone who has not showered since the Carter administration. 3. THREE POTATO CHIPS ARE NOT WORTH 3 DOLLARS. 4. Your elbow is awfully pointy, Ma’am. I know you’re sleeping, but that’s my boob.

    Coffee is still my IV of choice.

And how are YOU doing?