Category Archives: and that’s worthy of a category

other buttons facebook should add besides “like”

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5

ouch

yikes

illegal in most states

meow!

no.

oh, your mom won’t like that

really?

that looks sketchy on my phone

no thank you

no, seriously. really?

you’re grounded

cancel or allow?

i can’t believe it’s not butter

photoshopped into oblivion

redacted

HA!

i closed the door to my bedroom before I clicked the link

that meme died four months back

you kiss your mama with that mouth?

riiiiiiiight

that just put you on the FBI’s radar

ruh-roh

go a size up

bleaching my eyeballs

my work firewall just blocked this post

my emotional firewall just blocked this post

ka-ching!

this wasn’t the part they valued at $50 billion

reset

what a difference a year makes.

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(from my guy, today.)

One year ago today, I landed in Boston on a JetBlue flight from Seattle and gave Gradon an exhausted, trembly, overwhelmed hug (or nine) at the airport.

About 15 hours before that, I was handed a visa at the US border, about 30 minutes from my parents’ house.

The type of visa I received is one you can only apply for in person. You have to come with your bags packed to go where you plan to go, and with your ticket to ride in hand. Ostensibly, that’s because they need to know you’re serious before they even consider you… and I was.

The combination of elation and emotion I felt when they approved me was one of the most curious things I’ve ever experienced. I was thrilled to be over one more hurdle in making my big move, but I was also nothing short of devastated to be leaving my family and friends behind.

I didn’t know how to navigate that conflict in my heart in the moment, so I put it off for the next few hours while we drove to SeaTac. I almost caved when my mom and dad gave me a beautiful bracelet an hour later, but I managed to hold it together a while longer while we rode on.

I can’t really write about saying goodbye to my parents at the security gate without crying again (oh, look, there I go…) because I knew I was breaking their hearts a little — they would now have two kids (and our respective significant others) living a couple plane rides away.

To color that emotion in a bit more, I’ll tell you two things: that we’re very close, and that a fair amount of my parents’ good friends live within an hour of their kids, and see them several times a week. I’m sure they feel a little shafted by how different their experience has become, even though they know it’s the norm for a lot of other families (maybe most?) And the last time I’d lived more than a shortish drive away from them, I was in my first couple years of university. That was more than a decade ago.

But I knew they were excited for me, and they’d actively supported the whole process like troopers. That didn’t change during the drive down. But that goodbye when we got there? I definitely don’t need to do that again. I sat on a bench beyond the security lineups when I was through — they didn’t give the blubbering girl a pat-down, in a rare show of mercy — and tried to get myself together.

It was easier once I got to Boston and saw Gradon waiting for me, but I still felt incredibly guilty for putting 3,000 miles between me and the two people I love most on earth, besides the one I’m going to marry. I still do, though I don’t think I call or write nearly enough to show them that’s the case — and no doubt my hesitation at times is directly tied into my desire not to fall apart on the phone, or some other terrible excuse.

I love you, Mom and Dad. Thanks for making it work. I miss you very, very much.

So.

Gradon.

The reason for the move. Him.

He’s rather amazing.

He makes me laugh, he makes me think, he makes me feel like anything is possible, he makes me feel safe, he makes me feel beautiful. I find all the things I ever dreamed of in his bespectacled, smiling face.

He’s not perfect, of course, but I’m certainly not either. We’re learning to see eye to eye on things like budgets, housecleaning, and how we spend our time, and for the most part, we end up on the same page. We argue from time to time, but those moments are blessedly short-lived, and end in apologies and conversations about how to do better.

Since I arrived, he’s transitioned from freelancing in jeans and Chuck Taylors to a huge job (in a shirt and tie… and pants, of course) working as an online community manager for a major regional bank. We both put in full days, and then commute an hour or so on either end. That doesn’t leave a ton of time together in the evening, but we still manage to eat dinner together almost every night, and watch our share of Netflix discs while he tries to keep his eyes open, and I jabber and flail at the television (family habit.)

We’re engaged now, too, as of February, and we’re jumping through hoops to come up with a wedding plan (heck, a date) in the late fall / earlyish winter (because winter starts early here!). It will be a small celebration with our families and just a few friends, and it will be “us”, however it takes shape. Can’t say much more about that, but when I do, it will be here.

On that day, I’ll also become a stepmom. To one (by then) 13 year-old, and a kind of step-stepmom to a 16 year-old.

They?

Are fantastic.

Noisy, hilarious, alternately (and passionately) in love with their PS3/Nintendo DS/iPod Touch/phones, given to picky but voracious appetites, slightly messy, occasionally smelly, and very infrequently cranky, too. Not to mention ridiculous to watch on Facebook.

But fantastic.

The whole “(step) mom” thing was something I always figured would come naturally, though that will be more my title of sorts than my name (I’m “Meg” or “Meg! Meg! Meg! Look!” or “Hey, do we have soda?”, depending on the moment) and I think it does. I’ve spent more time around kids in my life than almost anyone else, and I tend to fit in (and not just because I’m short.) That doesn’t mean it’s not an adjustment, of course… because it is.

I used to sleep in super late on the weekends, and then spend the rest of the day running errands, getting the occasional mani-pedi, and cooking meals that fit my cravings… and my cravings alone.

Now my weekends are made up of laundry (at the laundromat, but BOY, are we ever going to have in-suite laundry in our next place in July, when our lease is up… wherever that ends up being), cleaning, running errands, and feeding/laughing at/hanging out with crazy-haired teenagers who make fun of me and take up the whole living room with their ever-increasing gangliness.

Even when it’s an adjustment, I wouldn’t change it. It feels right. I love them. In whatever way they can be mine, they are.

So.

The rest of my life.

Work — that thing I do all day.

I’m so thankful for it, and in no small part because it brought me here successfully.

I’m lucky to work with brilliant, talented people at Sametz Blackstone Associates. They haven’t left me on the curb in hopes that someone else will take me away (yet), and for that I’m grateful. I learn something new here every single day and I laugh every single day — and I don’t know how many people can say that’s true of their jobs. Also, I get to hang out with very cute dogs, and visit the bakery around the corner far too often.

(Update: I just learned that one of those beautiful dogs is very sick, and will be leaving us today. Callie, you were a big part of this family, and a dear part of my day. You will be missed, beautiful girl.)

Finally, we have my friends.

This has maybe been the hardest part — not, of course, because of anything to do with my friends, but because moving to a new community and setting up new relationships is always challenging. Unlike Gradon, they don’t have to love me unconditionally (well, I guess he doesn’t either, but HE BETTER), and unlike Gradon and the folks I work with, I don’t see them every day. It takes a little more time to cement a connection.

I do miss the easy way I fit into all the communities I was a part of back in Vancouver, and the inside jokes and normal haunts and habits I had with my dear friends (including my bestie, Catherine.)

Add on top of that my tendency to isolate myself a little when I’m stressed (read: stay home/cook/Netflix. Full stop!) and a dose of my natural shyness, and it’s a bit of a challenge. Also, I can be annoying sometimes. I know… it’s a shock, right?

But I’ve found some lovely people. They include me in their plans, they bring energy and joy into my life, and they’re all interesting and funny and special in their own right. Some of them, I’ve met through Gradon, and some of them on my own. All of them are wonderful. I love them dearly, and hope to continue growing these relationships in the years to come.

So.

That’s the life I chose a year ago, a year later.

I think the last 365 days have added a few more lines to my face — some probably from the stress, but most from smiling and laughing (and I should probably credit some of them to the crazy wind and weather we have here.)

Those days have also added:

more love

more stories

more plans

more complexity

more skills

more joy

… just plain more.

I’m proud of most of it. Almost all.

And thanks for following along.

37 thoughts on the day after my 37th birthday.

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I made a list last year on my birthday.

I couldn’t think of anything profound to say, so I said 36 things that weren’t particularly profound.

I think I’ll do the same today. Even if it’s the day after.

I might even repeat myself a little, because I’m not going to read last year’s list until I’m done writing this one.

I might even contradict myself. You never know.

And I’m totally okay with that.

37. We all have emblematic spazzisms (not spasms, spazzisms) that we use to define ourselves to ourselves, and to others. Mine? Insomnia, mild OCD, mild claustrophobia, and not-so-mild klutziness. I guess I dream of a restful, wide-open, brand-spanking-clean world… covered in pillows.

36. When I turned 36, I was worried about a big move across a country and a border and leaving my mom and dad behind and maybe failing at all the things I was making a giant leap to do, from work to choosing love. When I turned 37, I was worried about Gradon remembering to buy the right ingredients for the dinner he was making me, because he’s kinda forgetful, and he’d frustrate himself if he forgot. That simple comparison in and of itself reveals how huge the last 365 days have been.

35. Anti-wrinkle creams work pretty much the same way wrinkles develop — imperceptibly slowly. Is there some rule that all things that take time to do take the same amount of time to undo?

34. Self-help books < helping myself to another cookie.

33. There are big moments in a relationship that we celebrate: first dates, anniversary months and years, engagements, weddings, more anniversaries. I celebrate the day we negotiated a temperature for our home that the human furnace and the human ice cube could both live with.

32. Consistency wins over perfection every time.

31. I like to be the salt and pepper in a community: the little bit of something that helps makes everyone else a bit more vibrant and distinctive and appealing. And, of course, to add a bit of flavor and bite myself.

30. There is no one thing that makes everyone happy. What seems to be most effective, however, is the realization that you can pick your own thing.

29. Agreeing about everything is boring. Fighting about everything is boring. Debating everything and then making fun of it? Now that’s a lifestyle!

28. If you’re bringing flowers to a party that’s underway, to a dinner party, or to a new mom, bring them already trimmed and in a simple vase you think the receiver would like. Just trust me on this.

27. Don’t apologize unless you actually accept you did something wrong. Making peace in the moment is a distant second to making a conscious choice not to do that thing again, and sticking with that choice. The latter makes future apologies less likely, while the former practically guarantees a repeat.

26. Everyone always rushes to tell people just how much their children do or don’t look like them, as though the goal was to create a 40% scale Xerox of yourself. I find families easier to identify by shared mannerisms and unspoken collective behaviors and the evidence of love in words and body language (if they’re lucky enough to have it), than by a hair color or a big nose or a similar frame. And as the new member of a family where every member looks pretty darn different, I say our bond is evident in how we laugh together.

25. The time to be exclusive is when no one is around to exclude.

24. The soundtrack to my romance is much more silly than I ever thought it would be.

23. I never valued the porches and decks and backyards in my life as much as I should have. The next time I have one or more of them, I may never be indoors again.

22. Whining about hills doesn’t get you up them any faster. Swearing at them occasionally works, however.

21. Quality over variety.

20. I learn by doing things, and the process of trial and error. That’s definitely how I learned to cook, and why I’m a really good cook. That’s also why I’m not a nuclear physicist.

19. Snark is not inherently funny. Tripping with a carton of eggs is.

18. I like to know the answers to questions before I ask them. And if that makes sense to you, let’s be friends.

17. If they ever find evidence that people who pathologically remember song lyrics are somehow more intellectually advanced, dinner is SO on me.

16. Not being able to connect to a wifi signal is the new being attacked by bees.

15. Not doing exactly the thing you want to be doing in life can be totally fine as long as you’re doing it for exactly the right reasons.

14. I always have an opinion. But more than that, I have a strong sense of when people do and don’t need to hear it.

13. It’s ironic that the one piece of clothing women dread wearing most is what we put on to dive into the place we are most weightless. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but I’m too distracted by my hips to think of what it might be.

12. I’m still learning that “make everyone happy” isn’t a reasonable workplace goal. But I keep putting it back on my list, anyway.

11. Put your phone away. I’m saying this to myself, of course. Put your phone away.

10. Sometimes it’s easier for me to jump into the water off a 50 ft. pier than it is to take two steps forward and introduce myself to someone totally new. If I could just get them to jump off the pier with me, however…

9. Other people are not responsible for your moods. They might be part of the cause, but they’re not responsible.

8. I still really, really don’t like clowns, spiders, artificially banana- or melon-flavored foods, or carnations. I’ve heard arguments in favor of all of them. I’m not swayed.

7. I used to be a far better dancer. But I am a far more entertaining one now. You totally want to go to a wedding with me.

6. I don’t choose my friends according to how much we agree on. I choose my friends according to how much respect we show when we don’t agree.

5. When my mother was 37, she had a 13 year old and a 17 year old. The weekend before I turned 37, I was hanging with a 12 year old and a 16 year old in my home, who made me laugh hard, and ate everything in sight. Close enough, right?

4. I don’t need the people I love to know intuitively what I want. I do need them to listen when I tell them.

3. The thought of being the smartest person in the room makes me totally panicky.

2. I still try and avoid watching the news.

1. I’m still completely in love.