KK: John, your mother said she only wanted to invite 50 people, but each week she sends me more names. She currently wants to invite 130 people.
John: Let me see that list. He grabs it from my hands.
John: I don’t even know who some of these people are!
So, we call Billie Sue.
John:
Billie Sue: They lived next door to us in
John: We moved away from
Billie Sue: Your brother used to play with their kids when he was little.
John:
Billie Sue: No.
KK: They’re OFF the list!
Tante Max tells the story best. Each night for weeks, air raid sirens had been going off forcing the neighborhood into bomb shelters. But this night, word came to evacuate. People piled onto the train, clinging to whatever they could from their former, orderly lives. During the trip they were repeatedly forced to flee from the train into nearby ravines whenever bombers passed overhead. By morning they had made it safely into the countryside.
After their night of terror they knocked on a farmer’s door. The burly, gruff man agreed to give them shelter in exchange for their work on the farm, and he set them to work immediately.
For two years my family lived in a one room shed at the back of the farmer’s property, while World War II raged throughout
The war had destroyed their previous lives, their homes, their business. But slowly they recreated themselves in a different part of
My mom flies to
Last week we finished John’s expense reports for 2005. His reimbursement won’t be enough to pay for the wedding, but it will be enough to build us a fine new bathroom.
My first Expense Report Experience with John came just a year or so into our relationship. The company where we were working instituted a new policy – that expenses had be submitted within 90 days of incurring. This threw John into a tizzy, a whirl of tender stresses. He flew to his home in the Bay Area and collected a box full of receipts.
Keeping the receipts is not John’s difficulty, because John keeps just about everything. In his three bedroom house in
1) A letter to the newspaper editor of his hometown that he wrote in 12th grade in which he threatened to sue the school district if they changed the method for calculating GPA’s prior to his graduation. He was slated to be valedictorian, after all.
2) The profile of his ideal mate, which he completed for a dating service while he lived in
3) A hideous ceramic bowl/vase object painted in pink and greens and yellows with hula dancers in grass skirts. I think he pilfered it from a bar in a fancy hotel during one of his sales conferences. I vaguely remember a story about one his sales reps sneaking it out in a baby stroller. I am such a proud girlfriend.
The point is, in that box he brought home
When the head of business services realized the magnitude of the expense reports soon to cross her desk, she had the company begin allocating money with which to reimburse John.
In the end, they paid him over a $100,000. “Hey, it’s better than I would have done if I’d invested that money in the market!” was John’s sole rationalization. And he may be right.
I have a feeling this post will earn me some hate mail, especially from that character who calls himself Johntex.
One of the things I love about my college is the plethora of interesting people I come into contact with.
This morning I was talking with a student of mine who is from
It was a pretty glum day today, bad news kept crossing my desk. So I decided the heck with it, I broke free of my office and left to soak up some sun before my evening class. I followed the path to my car and ended up walking behind a young fellow with a colorful tattoo that covered his entire right calf. “I’ve never seen a hibiscus flower on a tattoo before.” “Really?” he asked incredulous. “I’ve got them all over.” “That’s nice,” was all I could think to say.
A motorcycle was parked behind my car, and strapped to its handlebars was a helmet. The rider had outfitted it with a furry striped tail and two floppy ears.
People are amazing.
Check out the cool wedding photographer we hired: www.sarahborkhamilton.com
This Thursday included another one of my favorite things, going to see my marvelous hair dresser Keri. There are a few things you should know about my visits to Keri. The first is that I often put a note on the inside of the front door to remind me of any extra errands I need to run each day. So, the day before seeing Keri, there’s usually a note up there that reads HAIR in big block letters. This is also my little way of ensuring that I receive the appropriate complements when John gets home.
One week I flew out the door without taking the note with me, partly to make John aware of my new found radiance. That particular evening John came home and we began the normal evening rituals – making dinner, discussing our days, playing with
That’s another one I’m not letting him forget.
Believe it or not, it was a hair stylist that signified a serious progression in our relationship. John also gets his hair done by Keri. He likes all of the perks that come with a trip to an Aveda salon, like the shoulder, neck and scalp massage, the scented oil aromatherapy, the great hair products and the ability of an Aveda stylist like Keri to make him look, as he says, ‘edgy’. One day about four years ago John picked me up from the airport at the end of a week long business trip to
John had an appointment that morning at an Aveda salon along the coast, and I decided to ride along with the hope that they would be able to work me in. I could tell that John was a little uneasy with my idea. “It’s just that I don’t like to share my hair stylist with someone I’m dating.” Now I was confused. “If we broke up, we couldn’t both keep going to the same stylist. And I don’t want to lose her.” I must have giggled. “I think it’s a reasonable precaution,” he continued. And so this simple outing had turned into a make-or-break moment for our relationship.
In the end John made the noble, brave decision, and we’ve been using the same hair dresser ever since. Clearly he made the right choice. Soon, Keri will be working her magic to make us both look perfect for our wedding day.
This week, John noticed my hair. We’re in high romance mode, soaking up the sweetness until John leaves again on Sunday.
Poop update: I collected a sample, and the vet sent it to a lab for analysis. We should know something later today.
I wish I were joking. After two sips, it landed, wings waterlogged, helpless, drowning in my delicious indulgence. So I was forced to switch to a different mood enhancer. By then the coffee was ready. I enjoyed a slow cup, a bowl of cereal, and a couple stories in the morning paper.
The day before my soon-to-be mother in law had none-too-delicately reminded me that whatever parasite Sunny has is probably communicable to
Fortified, I grabbed
At the pet store I decided I’d had enough shit-cleaning and refused to tackle the disgusting task of decontaminating Piper’s litter box. She’d simply get a new one. (Yes I know I am contributing to our city’s overflowing landfill!) I picked out a Buddha Dome for Piper and a more straightforward fully enclosed container for Sunny. (He wasted no time in spreading his poop on the inside walls as soon as I put it in his room.) I grabbed a play toy for Sunny, paw wipes and some pig ears for
Back at home my Gift-From-God (aka Olga, the housekeeper) was cleaning our shower. No matter, I didn’t have time anyway. I dished out the new litter boxes, toys and treats, washed my face, brushed my teeth, pulled on a tank top, a pair of hiking pants, my flip flops, and most importantly a hat. (I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shampooed. God, if having a human baby is anywhere near as tiring as having a kitten baby, you can count me out!) I spread on copious amounts of deodorant, some perfume, and drove to class.
On Mondays and Wednesdays I must deal with my inherited hooligans. I’m happy to report that I have scared them into submission! They actually complemented me on my camouflage costume and cheerily soaked up three hours of algebra and geometry.
Once class was over, I still had to prepare my lecture notes for the evening’s calculus class and meet with students during office hours. Is it a bad sign that, as an education professional, I sometimes pray that no students show up? My prayer rarely seems to work, but it did this day. I must have made the homework too easy.
As soon as I finished my lesson, I rushed home, petted each of the three kids and was about to drive back to school when I saw John’s taxi arrive. I can’t tell you how glad I am that he’s home.
I’ll skip the rest and just say that calculus flew by, John’s smitten with the new kitten, and I’m in heaven now that John’s home.
Or so I was about to write. When I woke this morning I discovered that Sunny’s condition had worsened over night. He now has very little chance of making it to the litter box in time, even though he and it are never more than 9 feet apart.
I cleaned up the droplets that followed wherever he went, fed him yet another bottle of baby food. By now I’ve depleted my grocer’s supply of strained meat Gerber jars and have to find a new store to pillage this morning.
I made coffee, I opened the drapes, I stepped outside and got the paper. And then I thought about Churchill. You know, he started each day with a Scotch (though he did somehow make it last till
Now Wednesday may once again be one of my favorite days of the week.
Mondays are the day that I meet my buddy Frank for a matinee at our local movie theatre. Frank is a self-described physics geek, movie buff and misanthrope. Only the first two are true though, he’s one of the nicest people I know. Often our stroll to main street necessitates a stop at the pub before the movie, where we order a gin and tonic for Frank and a Guinness for me. Sometimes the movie necessitates another stop at the pub before the walk home. This week we were running a bit late so we compromised and sipped canned Guinness taken from the fridge on the way out the door.
It was an odd flick, slap-stick, made funnier by the aforementioned Guinness. Adam & Steve, a love story between two gay men, who were star-crossed lovers in the 80’s and rediscovered each other in the present day. Posey Parker played an prickly-yet-adorable side-kick; it’s probably worth seeing just for her. I left feeling inspired by love and giddy from the last two dance numbers. If only life were like musicals, where we could break into choreographed singing routines and mend our troubles with a tune.
Once home for the evening, I made myself a salad and hosted online office hours for my calculus students. Then I was off to bed to read The Last Lion, a biography of Winston Churchill, and before I knew it I was singing and dancing in my sleep, dreaming about Tuesday.
It’s been one week since Sunny came to live with us. During this time my feelings have ranged from desperation, awe, disgust, delight, and finally love. John gets home in four days to discover Sunny first hand. But it’s already too late, Sunny is here to stay.
Last Sunday he slept and hid and then peed and pooped on a stack of John’s old t-shirts. (John doesn’t know about this yet, and I’m not so sure he needs to.) I shut my eyes to the problem and instead took a drive up the coast to a fu-fu pet shop where I paid far too much for some quite adorable non-necessities. I rationalized it with the thought that I’m a middle-aged woman with no kids in sight (nor desired) who ought to at least be able to spoil her cat! When I returned he was still exhausted, scared and rather bewildered by his new circumstances. But my purchase of a carpeted triangle wedge cubby hole with multiple-sized windows, attached fake mice and a coating of catnip was a real winner. His time in my study was over, though. His pooping indiscretion had earned him a stay in the all tile boy’s bathroom. (It also lacks t-shirts.)
On Monday Sunny was well rested and ready to play. I built him a huge playpen out of heavy cardboard so that he could be in the living room with us without the fear of being attacked by Piper or eaten by
On Tuesday he broke free. This meant he could only be in the living room under strict supervision.
Tuesday was also Sunny’s first visit to the vet where he received a near perfect bill of health, a vaccine, and an antibiotic to help with his outrageously pernicious, unimaginably vile smelling and un-litter-box-contained diarrhea. The vet also suggested I feed him only strained turkey baby food until he recovered, which smells almost as bad as the diarrhea!
None of this slowed him down though. Sunny was absolutely delighted by life and the wealth of play toys he discovered in his new home, like a scrap of paper that had fallen to the floor, my laptop cable, the leaves on the houseplant and Piper’s tail. He performed acrobatic maneuvers that amazed the rest of us, literaly somersaulting through the air, hoisting himself up on the couch, dangling from the cushions on the dinning room chairs, and loping down the hall like a kangaroo.
And so went Wednesday and Thursday. During this time Piper’s hissing became less frequent, and though
On one of these days (perhaps induced by sleep deprivation) I declared Sunny litter box trained and did not confine him to the bathroom that night.
Friday was another day. By then
On Saturday I came to the conclusion that all of our lives would be much less stressful if instead of having the four of us simultaneously occupy the living room, I rotated who was allowed in at any given time. Being the epitome of queenly behavior, Piper was always welcome, as was I.
By Sunday I was even better at this rotation scheduling and was able to enjoy more discoveries about Sunny. I watched him and Piper play chase and hide-and-seek. Piper and I used to play those games! I learned just how much Sunny likes his belly rubbed, his face nuzzled and his paws played with. I got to rub
I also have more time for myself. Today I finished writing my last final exam for the semester, selected new textbooks for the fall, and had enough energy to lengthen my run to two miles. And those t-shirts? They are once again clean and fresh smelling, and I’m almost half way through turning them into a t-shirt quilt for John. Now that should be enough to make him forgive Sunny, don’t you think?
There is a picture of me as a child, about four years old, sitting on our avocado-colored linoleum kitchen floor, surrounded by kittens, with a huge smile on my face. The perceptive among you may see an animal lover. Apparently you should also see a sucker for stray cats and dogs.
Saturday morning began with a predawn trip to the airport to send John off to
Just as I was packing up for the day, marking “Free” on a few remaining items, my neighbor appeared holding a mewing, shaking, skinny black kitten. “One of our customers found this wandering in the street. KK, this one has your name written all over it.” This is the same woman who saved my life two weeks ago. I growled.
I refused. I resisted. I swore. I begged and pleaded. And now there’s a black cat sleeping in John’s bathroom.
The neighborhood kids named him Sunshine, and I call him Sunny for short. He’s got
Of course John has no idea there’s a cat sleeping in his bathroom. I wonder what he’ll think when he reads this.
It’s time to get in shape. To stop fooling around. To burn off this belly and slim down that rear end. (In a massive Freudian slip John called them “chubby cheeks” when he swears what he meant to say was chilly cheeks. He’s still suffering for that one.) The reason for all this? I’m getting married in three months and I have bought myself a stunning, slinky wedding dress. The kind that doesn’t look good with bulging bellies and butt beneath it.
My first step was to lay in all the right equipment. I went to the running store and bought two new pair of shoes. It’s best to rotate them you know, a different pair every day. During my running hiatus my old pair were co-opted for gardening. Then I bought a couple of pretty running outfits and a variety of new socks. I am on the way to a new me, I felt. But first, I needed a stop at McDonalds for a quarter-pounder combo meal, supersized. And of course, after that I needed a nap.
Later this afternoon I put on all my new gear. I had forgotten how good new clothes make a girl feel. I’ve been so busy buying things like a maid, wedding invitations, a new bathroom and termite tenting that I forgot all about the power of clothes shopping to lift one’s spirits. Anyway, I got decked out in over a hundred dollars worth of sparkly, scientifically engineered fabrics and went for a run. A whole mile and a half.
But I’ve got to start somewhere. BTW I found a simple little internet site that lets you chart your progress and keep you motivated. http://www.presidentschallenge.org/index.aspx Remember the President’s Physical Fitness Program that we participated in at grade school? Well, it’s still around. And now they have a website for grown-ups.
It may be a long road getting back into shape, but it’s worth it. I feel wonderful when I run. And it (like the internet) can be addictive.
Hector has kept me company this morning as I made my way through some sequence and series problems in calculus II. For some strange reason I find working math problems consoling. If she were still here, this would be the day that my septuagenarian French neighbor and I would go walking. We would discuss the events of the week, national, global, neighborhood and personal. I would tell her that
- If everyone we’re inviting comes to the wedding, we’ll have 300 guests. While I fret about the cost, John just smiles and says, “These are the things in life worth spending money on.”
- I’ve designed the invitations, picked out a wedding ring, hired the bands, caterer, florist, and baker, and bought my dress. All that’s missing are the photographer and tuxes - in other words, John’s responsibilities.
- John will be out of town for the entire month of May.
- The dishwasher is broken and needs to be replaced, and if John thinks I’m waiting until he gets back in town to buy a new one, he’s got another thing coming.
- The most brilliant looking orioles have started visiting my bird feeders.
-
- Olga, the housekeeper, is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Although, after our wedding, I should probably start saying that John is. (We marvel at the way she folds our t-shirts in to perfectly flat, uniform squares. It’s a mystery how she does it.)
- I succumbed to my mother’s pressure to register at Williams-Sonoma. I find it almost impossible to register for our wedding since we’re both in our 30’s and have been living together for years. But I indulged my wish list with some Riedel crystal. (My girlfriend AMQ and I bought some last year and I love treating myself to glass of wine in it when I get home at night.)
- Yesterday I thought I’d need a glass of wine to get through my calculus class. I kept saying, ‘There’s no crying in mathematics.’ Although, I’m not really sure why, I seem to remember plenty of crying in my mathematical studies.
- I discovered a website called zillow.com that overlays the price of properties on top of satellite images. Try it to see how much your house is worth (and that of your neighbors!)
- We’ve finally hired a contractor to redo our bathroom and scheduled the termite tenting. I like him, AND he knows how to use email!
- I tried to watch the film at our neighborhood’s independent movie theater this week, but I found it too sad and left after 10 minutes.
- The college had a book sale yesterday and I picked up five books for five dollars. Most are about Java programming, but I did manage to get
- Texas Monthly is one of my favorite magazines, and I make a point of reading all of the articles written by Skip Hollandsworth. This month he’s written about a charming, modern-day cattle rustler. The pictures in this article alone are worth the price of the issue, especially that of the
- I’m trying to pick out the symphonies we'll attend in the 2006-2007 season, but it’s been tricky to manage it with John’s directive, “It can’t interfere with football season.” I call him part of the burnt orange lunatic fringe.
- The new KPBS catalog came yesterday and I’ve circled all the must-see programs for the month of May.
- A&E is still running Nero Wolf mysteries on Saturday nights and I try to record every one. God bless Rex Stout, whom I discovered in college. I just love him. Isn’t Archie grand? And the orchids! The weather is so amazing here in SoCal that my neighbor grows them in her front yard. (Sickening, I know.)
- Some people find it strange that I keep a globe in my bathroom. My mother for one. But I can’t count the number of times I’ve been reading a history book in the tub and needed to look something up.
- This weekend I must plant the oregano, basil and Gerber daisies I’ve raised, AND get ready for our neighborhood garage sale.
- I seem to have recovered from my internet addiction. So my days are more balanced now, but I can’t say they’re as much fun!
- Best of all, my friends AMQ and Steve are in town!
In between my ramblings Giselle would comment on what’s she’s read in the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times this morning. She’s a voracious reader. Then she’d tell me about yoga and any treats she may have bought at Trader Joes and Whole Foods. We’d talk about her children and grandchildren. We’d talk about gardening, books, movies and music.
I think I’ll go write her a letter.
