Visit me at oneofthosemothers.com
Content will be up January 1st.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
You may call me "Mrs. Mommy"
Half an hour ago I thought that I had finally found time to sit down and write a blog post about motherhood. I logged in, and then the baby woke up. As I typed the first sentence of this post, he woke up again, but Sam went to him and maybe he will fall back asleep for his daddy.
I have visited my blog several times since I last posted, over a year ago. I use it as a quick way to find other blogs, and every time I do, I have a moment of embarrassment when I see the titles of my last two posts. Contentment and Superbowl parties. Within a couple of weeks after I wrote about being content with my life as it was, I got pregnant and changed degree programs from the Ph.D to the masters. The day before the Superbowl, as I was getting ingredients together for margaritas, I got a positive pregnancy test. (Since I wasn't ready to tell the world about the pregnancy, I spent the evening of that party walking around with a margarita glass full of orange juice and crushed ice, so that no one would wonder why I wasn't partaking in the merriment).
There are a thousand things I could say about pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood, which all seem new and exciting to me as I experience them for the first time, but of course most of them have already been said:
"Having a baby is like having your heart walking around outside your body."
"You consider taking a shower a luxury."
"You find that you never knew you were capable of that kind of love."
"Seeing your baby on the ultrasound for the first time is magical."
I read lots of books about pregnancy while I was pregnant. I read about different kinds of childbirth and parenting styles, I took the hospital tour, I spent way too much time reading online parenting and pregnancy forums, I talked to people, and I reminisced about the time when my little brother was born.
And I got a lot of advice, from friends, family, and strangers. Pretty much the bigger my belly got, the more advice I got. I didn't mind. It all made me feel very, very prepared.
I wasn't.
I wasn't prepared for how stressful the five days of pregnancy that came after my due date would be, even though I had told myself to expect to be overdue. (Karma for all of those library books?)
I wasn't prepared for how intimidating doctors and nurses can be, and how vulnerable I would feel in the delivery room.
I wasn't prepared for the night feedings that come every couple of hours to take up a couple of hours. (It was only like this in the beginning.)
I wasn't prepared for the potential for guilt feelings. No matter what parenting decision you make, it turns out, there will be articles written to say that it is wrong. Mothers, like brides, are constantly told to think of themselves, but for mothers, there is always the nagging thought that you ought to be singing/reading to your baby, so that his brain will develop, or something like that.
I wasn't prepared for the complete loss of control. Every second of my every day is now dominated by the most adorable little tyrant.
I wasn't prepared to be separated like an egg. All my patience goes to Paul, all my impatience (I have a lot of it by the end of the day) goes to whomever I meet. (Poor Sam.)
And oh, the nicknames. I knew I would give them to SugarPlumPuddingPop, aka P-Dubya, aka Snuggle Muffin, aka SugarFace, but I did not expect to start giving them to myself. Paul obviously can't talk yet, but sometimes he makes a sort of "ahhmoomoo" sound, which I have taken as addressed to myself, so now sometimes instead of calling myself "mama," I call myself "moomoo." Not sure if this is an allusion to the fact that I am essentially his personal cow for the next few months, or if he means it to be spelled muumuu, and is questioning my fashion sense. I am also "the Milk Lady."
I wasn't prepared, at all, for how much I love this baby. For me it was not a rush of emotion the first moment that I heard his cry and saw his slimy little body in the doctor's hands. I was too exhausted, and all I could think was that I didn't see how he could've have fit - surely my belly wasn't that big - and I remember being a little bit relieved when someone said something about him being a boy, because I had been vaguely worried for the past 20 weeks that maybe the ultrasound technician had got it wrong. But the bond that I have with this baby is overwhelming. Even when he finally, finally, falls alseep, sometimes I miss him, and look at pictures of him on my phone. I have worse separation anxiety than he does. And the protective nature of this special kind of love is so intense that, at the risk (which I usually avoid) of sounding like Sarah Palin, it can only be described as fierce. But that, too, is different from what I was expecting. I thought that being a "mama grizzly" meant that you would have a rush of adrenaline and feel powerful. I think the reality is that you have a sudden realization of how powerless you are, and this leads to an adrenaline rush, but the emotion is one of panic, not invincibility. Even more than the sleep deprivation and difficulty in finding time to shower and anxiety and guilt, the thing that sucks the most about motherhood is having to deal with the fact that you can't protect your sweet helpless baby from the things that are really bad in life, and that along with everything you have to give, you give your sinful nature, and the sinful nature of everyone else.
Thank God for grace, because there aren't enough books, articles, or friendly pieces of advice in the world to prepare a self-centered student for the experience of being a mother.
I have visited my blog several times since I last posted, over a year ago. I use it as a quick way to find other blogs, and every time I do, I have a moment of embarrassment when I see the titles of my last two posts. Contentment and Superbowl parties. Within a couple of weeks after I wrote about being content with my life as it was, I got pregnant and changed degree programs from the Ph.D to the masters. The day before the Superbowl, as I was getting ingredients together for margaritas, I got a positive pregnancy test. (Since I wasn't ready to tell the world about the pregnancy, I spent the evening of that party walking around with a margarita glass full of orange juice and crushed ice, so that no one would wonder why I wasn't partaking in the merriment).
There are a thousand things I could say about pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood, which all seem new and exciting to me as I experience them for the first time, but of course most of them have already been said:
"Having a baby is like having your heart walking around outside your body."
"You consider taking a shower a luxury."
"You find that you never knew you were capable of that kind of love."
"Seeing your baby on the ultrasound for the first time is magical."
I read lots of books about pregnancy while I was pregnant. I read about different kinds of childbirth and parenting styles, I took the hospital tour, I spent way too much time reading online parenting and pregnancy forums, I talked to people, and I reminisced about the time when my little brother was born.
And I got a lot of advice, from friends, family, and strangers. Pretty much the bigger my belly got, the more advice I got. I didn't mind. It all made me feel very, very prepared.
I wasn't.
I wasn't prepared for how stressful the five days of pregnancy that came after my due date would be, even though I had told myself to expect to be overdue. (Karma for all of those library books?)
I wasn't prepared for how intimidating doctors and nurses can be, and how vulnerable I would feel in the delivery room.
I wasn't prepared for the night feedings that come every couple of hours to take up a couple of hours. (It was only like this in the beginning.)
I wasn't prepared for the potential for guilt feelings. No matter what parenting decision you make, it turns out, there will be articles written to say that it is wrong. Mothers, like brides, are constantly told to think of themselves, but for mothers, there is always the nagging thought that you ought to be singing/reading to your baby, so that his brain will develop, or something like that.
I wasn't prepared for the complete loss of control. Every second of my every day is now dominated by the most adorable little tyrant.
I wasn't prepared to be separated like an egg. All my patience goes to Paul, all my impatience (I have a lot of it by the end of the day) goes to whomever I meet. (Poor Sam.)
And oh, the nicknames. I knew I would give them to SugarPlumPuddingPop, aka P-Dubya, aka Snuggle Muffin, aka SugarFace, but I did not expect to start giving them to myself. Paul obviously can't talk yet, but sometimes he makes a sort of "ahhmoomoo" sound, which I have taken as addressed to myself, so now sometimes instead of calling myself "mama," I call myself "moomoo." Not sure if this is an allusion to the fact that I am essentially his personal cow for the next few months, or if he means it to be spelled muumuu, and is questioning my fashion sense. I am also "the Milk Lady."
I wasn't prepared, at all, for how much I love this baby. For me it was not a rush of emotion the first moment that I heard his cry and saw his slimy little body in the doctor's hands. I was too exhausted, and all I could think was that I didn't see how he could've have fit - surely my belly wasn't that big - and I remember being a little bit relieved when someone said something about him being a boy, because I had been vaguely worried for the past 20 weeks that maybe the ultrasound technician had got it wrong. But the bond that I have with this baby is overwhelming. Even when he finally, finally, falls alseep, sometimes I miss him, and look at pictures of him on my phone. I have worse separation anxiety than he does. And the protective nature of this special kind of love is so intense that, at the risk (which I usually avoid) of sounding like Sarah Palin, it can only be described as fierce. But that, too, is different from what I was expecting. I thought that being a "mama grizzly" meant that you would have a rush of adrenaline and feel powerful. I think the reality is that you have a sudden realization of how powerless you are, and this leads to an adrenaline rush, but the emotion is one of panic, not invincibility. Even more than the sleep deprivation and difficulty in finding time to shower and anxiety and guilt, the thing that sucks the most about motherhood is having to deal with the fact that you can't protect your sweet helpless baby from the things that are really bad in life, and that along with everything you have to give, you give your sinful nature, and the sinful nature of everyone else.
Thank God for grace, because there aren't enough books, articles, or friendly pieces of advice in the world to prepare a self-centered student for the experience of being a mother.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
2011 Resolution: Contentment
My first resolution was to spend less money on food and more on clothes. Sam didn't like the second part of that. Actually, upon comparing my clothes budget with his mom's, he made me decrease mine. I've suspected for a while that I spend way too much on groceries, although we rarely eat out and prices are very high in this city.
Last year I think I made some sort of resolution about procrastination. Maybe I will get around to starting that this year. ;-)
When I think about all of the ways in which I could improve, I'm realizing that a lack of contentment may be at the bottom of a lot of things. If I could become content with the place I'm at in life at this moment - a graduate student, with graduate-level work even if I still feel like an undergraduate, living on a graduate stipend, in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a very new set of friends, with a husband who is definitely a boy and not one of my girlfriends, with a social life that doesn't really require half of the dresses in my closet, and in a city that just isn't south of the Mason-Dixon line - maybe I wouldn't need so many of the other resolutions. Maybe I would be content to do my homework and papers early, even if doing them doesn't make me feel like one of the smart kids anymore. Maybe I would start buying only clothes that are actually practical for my lifestyle. Maybe I wouldn't bother Sam with questions about whether he likes my new hat (he didn't, by the way, but I do). Maybe I would quit looking at decorating magazines.
I've definitely found out that the grass-is-greener phenomenon happens to me. Sam and I spent 17 days in Texas for my brother's wedding, Christmas, and New Year's, and I realized that Texas is not the Utopia I pretend it is sometimes when New York gets frustrating. Actually, I even missed New York while I was there, so maybe I've turned some sort of corner. Texas - especially in the southern part - is very humid and warm, even at Christmas, and most of the restaurants are chains. I missed my little flower stands (at which you can get gerbera daisies even in January!) and cheap pizza and good Thai food. Maybe not so much the subway, but I did miss being able to walk to many of the places I needed to go.
In reality I had every reason in the world to be content, even before I got my Christmas loot. ;-) I have the best friends and family ever, and I seem to be lucky in finding more people like them even when I move away. And now, I have the grandfather of all Greek dictionaries, which has been termed by clever Classicists as the "Great Scott." (There are three dictionaries by Liddell and Scott, and the smallest is the Little Liddell, and the medium one is the Middle Liddell, and now I have the Great Scott.) And I have the cutest little red food processor, which looks great next to its mommy, the Kitchenaid mixer, and a date with Sam at the Irish Repertoiry Theater. And lots of new books, including one rather hard-to-find book in which C.S. Lewis writes not just popular stuff but literary criticism.
And I don't have a cat, which would get hair everywhere, or a puppy, which would be smelly and needy, or a baby, who would change everything. And for now, apparently, that is all for the best.
Last year I think I made some sort of resolution about procrastination. Maybe I will get around to starting that this year. ;-)
When I think about all of the ways in which I could improve, I'm realizing that a lack of contentment may be at the bottom of a lot of things. If I could become content with the place I'm at in life at this moment - a graduate student, with graduate-level work even if I still feel like an undergraduate, living on a graduate stipend, in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a very new set of friends, with a husband who is definitely a boy and not one of my girlfriends, with a social life that doesn't really require half of the dresses in my closet, and in a city that just isn't south of the Mason-Dixon line - maybe I wouldn't need so many of the other resolutions. Maybe I would be content to do my homework and papers early, even if doing them doesn't make me feel like one of the smart kids anymore. Maybe I would start buying only clothes that are actually practical for my lifestyle. Maybe I wouldn't bother Sam with questions about whether he likes my new hat (he didn't, by the way, but I do). Maybe I would quit looking at decorating magazines.
I've definitely found out that the grass-is-greener phenomenon happens to me. Sam and I spent 17 days in Texas for my brother's wedding, Christmas, and New Year's, and I realized that Texas is not the Utopia I pretend it is sometimes when New York gets frustrating. Actually, I even missed New York while I was there, so maybe I've turned some sort of corner. Texas - especially in the southern part - is very humid and warm, even at Christmas, and most of the restaurants are chains. I missed my little flower stands (at which you can get gerbera daisies even in January!) and cheap pizza and good Thai food. Maybe not so much the subway, but I did miss being able to walk to many of the places I needed to go.
In reality I had every reason in the world to be content, even before I got my Christmas loot. ;-) I have the best friends and family ever, and I seem to be lucky in finding more people like them even when I move away. And now, I have the grandfather of all Greek dictionaries, which has been termed by clever Classicists as the "Great Scott." (There are three dictionaries by Liddell and Scott, and the smallest is the Little Liddell, and the medium one is the Middle Liddell, and now I have the Great Scott.) And I have the cutest little red food processor, which looks great next to its mommy, the Kitchenaid mixer, and a date with Sam at the Irish Repertoiry Theater. And lots of new books, including one rather hard-to-find book in which C.S. Lewis writes not just popular stuff but literary criticism.
And I don't have a cat, which would get hair everywhere, or a puppy, which would be smelly and needy, or a baby, who would change everything. And for now, apparently, that is all for the best.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
It's that time of the semester, again.
For one of my Greek classes we are doing a huge metrical analysis project that involves frequency charts of dactyl/spondee rhythms and some other things. I think I like rhythm. I like the idea of predictable variation (which, incidentally, is not exactly what you get from Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica).
I almost like that at the end of every semester of grad school and college since I decided what to major in, I've gone through a sudden period of questioning everything about my decisions. Right around the time I start panicking about term papers and finals, I start wondering if academics is really "my thing," if maybe I would do better in a different discipline, if I should have taken time off between college and grad school to get practical work experience, or if I really just need to get started on having babies (you knew that one was coming). My current idea is that maybe I've lived my whole life based on a false dichotomy in which I think of myself as smart but not athletic, when really, it's the other way around, and I should be looking into a field that requires more manual than mental labor. I could be the most un-creepy construction worker ever.
It's good that semesters are rhythmical, because I know that these sort of thoughts are coming, so I can take care to disregard them when they do come.
Marriage is rhythmical. It fluctuates fairly predictably between the "I'm so lucky and ridiculously happy that everything is really funny all the time" part (95%) to the part where God teaches things like patience and unconditional love and shows you some of the parts of yourself it's more comfortable to forget about (5%).
I think the idea of a week is brilliant. Mondays you try to get stuff done, because you are super-motivated. Tuesdays you give up, and do laundry, because it's free soap day at the laundromat. Wednesdays you panic, and actually do a little work. Thursdays you are so busy all day you forget to be productive. On Fridays, it doesn't matter what happens, because it's Friday, which is cleaning day and therefore the best day, and anyway you can live through anything till your husband gets home. Saturdays are the wild card, and on Sundays you reward yourself for all those good intentions and get ready for another round.
And seasons are actually not at all overrated.
I almost like that at the end of every semester of grad school and college since I decided what to major in, I've gone through a sudden period of questioning everything about my decisions. Right around the time I start panicking about term papers and finals, I start wondering if academics is really "my thing," if maybe I would do better in a different discipline, if I should have taken time off between college and grad school to get practical work experience, or if I really just need to get started on having babies (you knew that one was coming). My current idea is that maybe I've lived my whole life based on a false dichotomy in which I think of myself as smart but not athletic, when really, it's the other way around, and I should be looking into a field that requires more manual than mental labor. I could be the most un-creepy construction worker ever.
It's good that semesters are rhythmical, because I know that these sort of thoughts are coming, so I can take care to disregard them when they do come.
Marriage is rhythmical. It fluctuates fairly predictably between the "I'm so lucky and ridiculously happy that everything is really funny all the time" part (95%) to the part where God teaches things like patience and unconditional love and shows you some of the parts of yourself it's more comfortable to forget about (5%).
I think the idea of a week is brilliant. Mondays you try to get stuff done, because you are super-motivated. Tuesdays you give up, and do laundry, because it's free soap day at the laundromat. Wednesdays you panic, and actually do a little work. Thursdays you are so busy all day you forget to be productive. On Fridays, it doesn't matter what happens, because it's Friday, which is cleaning day and therefore the best day, and anyway you can live through anything till your husband gets home. Saturdays are the wild card, and on Sundays you reward yourself for all those good intentions and get ready for another round.
And seasons are actually not at all overrated.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
What I actually learned during finals week,
when I was studying all that Homer, Vergil, and Lucretius.
1) They stopped putting caffiene in Monster engery drinks. I don't know when they did it, because in undergrad, I remember it being there, but Monster energy drinks no longer make me bounce off the wall.
2) Nobody really understands Vergil's Georgics. Nobody.
3) We Classicists make up a lot of things. Like the term, "didactic poetry."
4) When someone asks you a question you don't know how to answer, the best thing to say is, "I think it has something to do with the moon and the tides." This is a surprisingly versatile answer.
5) Starbucks' cinnamon coffee cake is really, really good. Almost makes up for the fact that all I ate that week besides Starbucks coffee cake was pizza, Chinese take-out, and Subway.
6) Washing dishes is fun! Compared to thumping my head against the wall trying to figure out how to write my term paper.
On an unrelated note, here's a little something for all the single ladies out there: a picture of post-marital laundry. Enjoy!
1) They stopped putting caffiene in Monster engery drinks. I don't know when they did it, because in undergrad, I remember it being there, but Monster energy drinks no longer make me bounce off the wall.
2) Nobody really understands Vergil's Georgics. Nobody.
3) We Classicists make up a lot of things. Like the term, "didactic poetry."
4) When someone asks you a question you don't know how to answer, the best thing to say is, "I think it has something to do with the moon and the tides." This is a surprisingly versatile answer.
5) Starbucks' cinnamon coffee cake is really, really good. Almost makes up for the fact that all I ate that week besides Starbucks coffee cake was pizza, Chinese take-out, and Subway.
6) Washing dishes is fun! Compared to thumping my head against the wall trying to figure out how to write my term paper.
On an unrelated note, here's a little something for all the single ladies out there: a picture of post-marital laundry. Enjoy!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A Whole New Life
The title of this post is meant sarcastically. I've deleted my Facebook account, so this blog will probably get more attention. I will dedicate this blog post to happy things, because I've been thinking about unhappy things lately, and need to get them out of my head.
1) I've been ridiculously distracted by with shopping lately (probably to make up for the fact that Facebook can't distract me anymore). Especially for adorable dresses. I have a crazy affinity for cute dresses right now. Which makes very little sense, considering there are so few events in my life that call for adorable dresses. New York is not actually that glamorous when you live in it day to day. I think this affinity may harken back to a time exactly one year ago, when I was getting ready for the many, many events leading up to my wedding that required dresses. Also, as I mentioned, I haven't gained the Newlywed Nine, and have actually lost five, so that might have something to do with it. I'm getting good at finding dresses I really like and then finding them on sale somewhere online. My new favorite brands are BB Dakota and Max and Cleo. I told Sam a few minutes ago that I had found 100 dresses that I wanted very badly. I bought 3 of them today.
2) I'm getting tired of cooking the same things and have resolved to try at least one new recipe every week. This week I tweaked a new recipe for grilled salmon and made lemon pasta with roasted shrimp. Sam liked both a lot.
3) My precious baby brother turns five years old today. The picture of him and me is from two years ago. I sent him a big stuffed tiger for the occasion, which he named "Tika Tiger," and then just "Tiger," and he tells mom that "there is a beast in the house!" Stephanie got him a fish that sucks that algae from the side of his fishtank, and he named it "Algae-Sucker." He is the sweetest little boy in the world. As a toddler he used to insist on hugging all the stuffed animals by turn when he saw them sitting on the shelf in stores, and now his favorite thing to do is buy the kind of worms people use for fishing bait (with his own money) and then set them free in his backyard. I think he will be a philanthropist of some kind when he grows up. He writes me lots of letters, but I still can't believe he's five years old now.
4) My big presentation in Greek class is done with and now I just need to find a good topic for my Latin term paper so that I can get started over Easter break. That would make the end of my semester less stressful.
5) It is SPRING, finally, and all the wonderful things associated with this blessed season are beginning to happen. The weather has been incredibly refreshing, and Sam and I have started to spend time in Central Park. I've started my Spring cleaning and quite literally dusted off my flip-flops. The flower stands are starting to sell flowers other than roses, and very soon the asparagus you see in the grocery stores won't be brown and wilted. I've had a sort-of Spring break, Easter is coming up, and then my birthday, when I will turn 21 for the 3rd time! I think my third chance at being 21 will be the best yet.
6) My love-hate relationship with this city is growing. Sam and I have decided that off-Broadway plays are much better than Broadway plays. We found out that at the Irish Repetoire Theater they offer $20 tickets to people our age (yes, they know that I'm not really 21) and we saw a play by George Bernard Shaw that was really good. We were in the front row, so close to the acting that when they actors stormed off stage they had to be careful not to hit us.
7) I have an unadulterated love for Philadelphia after visiting it during Sam's and my mini-vacation long weekend "honeymoon" a couple of weeks ago. We got cheap bus tickets and splurged on the Omni hotel, only took a cab once and walked everywhere else because we were in such a great location. We ate at lots of good restaurants, saw a movie and a play, visited lots of historical sites, and even attended the same church that George Washington attended. I seem to like every city I go to instantly except New York, which is unfair for New York, because it's harder here since I have to live in it, but really, I think New York is just overrated. I will probably miss it when I leave, though.
1) I've been ridiculously distracted by with shopping lately (probably to make up for the fact that Facebook can't distract me anymore). Especially for adorable dresses. I have a crazy affinity for cute dresses right now. Which makes very little sense, considering there are so few events in my life that call for adorable dresses. New York is not actually that glamorous when you live in it day to day. I think this affinity may harken back to a time exactly one year ago, when I was getting ready for the many, many events leading up to my wedding that required dresses. Also, as I mentioned, I haven't gained the Newlywed Nine, and have actually lost five, so that might have something to do with it. I'm getting good at finding dresses I really like and then finding them on sale somewhere online. My new favorite brands are BB Dakota and Max and Cleo. I told Sam a few minutes ago that I had found 100 dresses that I wanted very badly. I bought 3 of them today.
2) I'm getting tired of cooking the same things and have resolved to try at least one new recipe every week. This week I tweaked a new recipe for grilled salmon and made lemon pasta with roasted shrimp. Sam liked both a lot.
3) My precious baby brother turns five years old today. The picture of him and me is from two years ago. I sent him a big stuffed tiger for the occasion, which he named "Tika Tiger," and then just "Tiger," and he tells mom that "there is a beast in the house!" Stephanie got him a fish that sucks that algae from the side of his fishtank, and he named it "Algae-Sucker." He is the sweetest little boy in the world. As a toddler he used to insist on hugging all the stuffed animals by turn when he saw them sitting on the shelf in stores, and now his favorite thing to do is buy the kind of worms people use for fishing bait (with his own money) and then set them free in his backyard. I think he will be a philanthropist of some kind when he grows up. He writes me lots of letters, but I still can't believe he's five years old now.
4) My big presentation in Greek class is done with and now I just need to find a good topic for my Latin term paper so that I can get started over Easter break. That would make the end of my semester less stressful.
5) It is SPRING, finally, and all the wonderful things associated with this blessed season are beginning to happen. The weather has been incredibly refreshing, and Sam and I have started to spend time in Central Park. I've started my Spring cleaning and quite literally dusted off my flip-flops. The flower stands are starting to sell flowers other than roses, and very soon the asparagus you see in the grocery stores won't be brown and wilted. I've had a sort-of Spring break, Easter is coming up, and then my birthday, when I will turn 21 for the 3rd time! I think my third chance at being 21 will be the best yet.
6) My love-hate relationship with this city is growing. Sam and I have decided that off-Broadway plays are much better than Broadway plays. We found out that at the Irish Repetoire Theater they offer $20 tickets to people our age (yes, they know that I'm not really 21) and we saw a play by George Bernard Shaw that was really good. We were in the front row, so close to the acting that when they actors stormed off stage they had to be careful not to hit us.
7) I have an unadulterated love for Philadelphia after visiting it during Sam's and my mini-vacation long weekend "honeymoon" a couple of weeks ago. We got cheap bus tickets and splurged on the Omni hotel, only took a cab once and walked everywhere else because we were in such a great location. We ate at lots of good restaurants, saw a movie and a play, visited lots of historical sites, and even attended the same church that George Washington attended. I seem to like every city I go to instantly except New York, which is unfair for New York, because it's harder here since I have to live in it, but really, I think New York is just overrated. I will probably miss it when I leave, though.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Things that happen to people like me.
I'm only taking two classes this semester, with not quite as intense homework loads as I imagined when I signed up for them, and between that and only working 12 hours a week as a graduate assistant, quite frankly, I have way too much time on my hands, and am by no means making good use of it.
So, in lieu of a blog about what I'm doing, since it seems that I'm doing as little as possible, I'm going to write my first blog with a theme: things that happen to people like me.
1) The Newlywed Nine. This is a thing that happens to people like me. I am very happy to report that it has not happened to me. Similar to the freshman 15 some people gain when they first go to college, the newlywed nine is weight that newlyweds often gain. I saw a statistic somewhere that said that people actually do gain an average of about 7-8 pounds their first year of marriage. Why is this?
2) Imposter Syndrome. This is a thing that happens to lots of people, often women, and often in the academy, and often to grad students. In other words, people like me. To be honest, I have to report that this happens to me all the time. Imposter Syndrome is not an official psycological malady. I didn't know that it was even something that happened to other people until my good friend Sara assured me that I'm not alone. What it means is that a person doesn't believe that he earned his achievements. I think almost everyday that I must have got into grad school because somehow I managed to look better on paper than I am in real life. I never think that I am sufficiently competent for the schoolwork I do, and I'm always pretty sure that my mediocrity will be found out soon and then they'll send me home (wherever that is) and tell me I'm not good enough to be among real academics. On the other hand, I do think I'd make a good housemaid. I'm getting good at cleaning all sorts of different surfaces in my apartment, now that I have so much time.
3) Other things that happen to people like me. We walk past the doors of the classrooms we are supposed to go into, and then have to turn around abruptly a few minutes later when we realize we are walking nowhere. We get on the subway going the wrong direction, don't realize it for a few stops, then get out, walk across the street, and get on the same wrong subway. We go to work and hope that the professors have found something for us to do to make us feel important, so that we do not have to sit in a graduate student office, thinking that it would be a bad idea to get on Facebook right now. We think of answers to questions that come up in class, but refrain from suggesting them because surely someone else would've thought of that if it were correct, then listen while someone else laboriously proposes said answer, which is confirmed. We look around frantically for the book we have just finished copying, only to have another grad student take it out of the copyer and hand it to us. We misplace the cellphone into which we are talking. (Really, one day I was talking to my mom, and told her I had to hang up because I'd lost my phone). Sometimes we eat lunch alone and look so pathetic that they busboys feel sorry for us and decide to flirt with us. Our husbands say things to us like, "Ashley, I don't have time for you to get irritated with me if I'm going to be working out everyday."
Maybe that last one only happens to me. I thought it was the funniest thing Sam ever said. We were almost fighting when he said it but then I had to laugh for about five minutes.
So, in lieu of a blog about what I'm doing, since it seems that I'm doing as little as possible, I'm going to write my first blog with a theme: things that happen to people like me.
1) The Newlywed Nine. This is a thing that happens to people like me. I am very happy to report that it has not happened to me. Similar to the freshman 15 some people gain when they first go to college, the newlywed nine is weight that newlyweds often gain. I saw a statistic somewhere that said that people actually do gain an average of about 7-8 pounds their first year of marriage. Why is this?
2) Imposter Syndrome. This is a thing that happens to lots of people, often women, and often in the academy, and often to grad students. In other words, people like me. To be honest, I have to report that this happens to me all the time. Imposter Syndrome is not an official psycological malady. I didn't know that it was even something that happened to other people until my good friend Sara assured me that I'm not alone. What it means is that a person doesn't believe that he earned his achievements. I think almost everyday that I must have got into grad school because somehow I managed to look better on paper than I am in real life. I never think that I am sufficiently competent for the schoolwork I do, and I'm always pretty sure that my mediocrity will be found out soon and then they'll send me home (wherever that is) and tell me I'm not good enough to be among real academics. On the other hand, I do think I'd make a good housemaid. I'm getting good at cleaning all sorts of different surfaces in my apartment, now that I have so much time.
3) Other things that happen to people like me. We walk past the doors of the classrooms we are supposed to go into, and then have to turn around abruptly a few minutes later when we realize we are walking nowhere. We get on the subway going the wrong direction, don't realize it for a few stops, then get out, walk across the street, and get on the same wrong subway. We go to work and hope that the professors have found something for us to do to make us feel important, so that we do not have to sit in a graduate student office, thinking that it would be a bad idea to get on Facebook right now. We think of answers to questions that come up in class, but refrain from suggesting them because surely someone else would've thought of that if it were correct, then listen while someone else laboriously proposes said answer, which is confirmed. We look around frantically for the book we have just finished copying, only to have another grad student take it out of the copyer and hand it to us. We misplace the cellphone into which we are talking. (Really, one day I was talking to my mom, and told her I had to hang up because I'd lost my phone). Sometimes we eat lunch alone and look so pathetic that they busboys feel sorry for us and decide to flirt with us. Our husbands say things to us like, "Ashley, I don't have time for you to get irritated with me if I'm going to be working out everyday."
Maybe that last one only happens to me. I thought it was the funniest thing Sam ever said. We were almost fighting when he said it but then I had to laugh for about five minutes.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Rambles
I've decided I like Boston better than New York. But New York is okay. Maybe I just like Boston more because I was visiting lots of friends and having fun and in New York I actually have to figure out how to live and work and study.
There are a lot of alarming stories going around about the economy and people in their twenties, which are making me definitely want to stay in school and maybe work a bit harder at it. I guess time's up for wondering what to do with my life; it's time to do something. Americans in general are taking longer than they used to to grow up. But you can't just find a great job easily these days; you have to be competitive. And I want that dog and fireplace and baby someday, and I want money for dogfood and firewood and swingsets, so I'm going to try getting a degree that will possibly land me a decent job. The good thing about jobs as professors is that if you get tenure, you've got a decent salary and amazing job security. The bad thing is, tenure-track positions are difficult to get and so is tenure.
I wasn't really ever considering dropping out, anyway; I've just realized how little choice I really have. Anyway I'll probably enjoy it more if I work harder at it. And I didn't choose all the best classes this semester, but I will for next semester.
Midterms are over, thank goodness! Except for French, which does not at all worry me. I haven't got my grades back from the midterms so I'm still anxious about that but at least I can move on to think about other things.
Inspired by H and her pretty apartment, I am looking into making small upgrades on the cuteness of mine. We got a new couch, and although it is smaller and less comfy that the old one, I think it's much cuter, and there's no need for a slipcover that must be constantly re-adjusted, and anyway I think a smaller couch fits my small living room better. They always say it's important to have your furniture be to scale. I've found some pretty red vases to go in the living room, and I'm going to add some picture frames that match the ones I have and put pictures of my family and Sam's from the wedding in them, and Sam doesn't necessarily know this, but we're definitely getting a nice-looking chair to go with the couch, and I've found that cinnamon sticks make a great natural potpourri.
Poor Sam. Yesterday before our date night I dragged him through Bed, Bath and Beyond, Gracious Home and Pottery Barn. We're headed to Ikea next weekend, even though it's all the way down in Brooklyn. I've actually never been to Brooklyn before. I've been to Queens, but only accidentally when I took a subway train in the wrong direction.
We had Sunday brunch today, which seems like a very New York thing to do. I've definitely perfected my french toast recipe, and we've decided to make it a Christmas morning tradition. We booked our tickets to go back to Texas for Christmas. To save money, we're flying on Christmas afternoon and flying back New Year's Day.
I'm always looking for recipes of the cheap/healthy/quick/tasty persuasion, so if you have any that meet any of these qualifications, please share. I especially like things I can prepare ahead of time and cook at the last minute, so that I can cook ahead on weekends.
Why do weekends end so quickly? I'm not ready for another week, and I'm especially not ready to start thinking about term papers.
There are a lot of alarming stories going around about the economy and people in their twenties, which are making me definitely want to stay in school and maybe work a bit harder at it. I guess time's up for wondering what to do with my life; it's time to do something. Americans in general are taking longer than they used to to grow up. But you can't just find a great job easily these days; you have to be competitive. And I want that dog and fireplace and baby someday, and I want money for dogfood and firewood and swingsets, so I'm going to try getting a degree that will possibly land me a decent job. The good thing about jobs as professors is that if you get tenure, you've got a decent salary and amazing job security. The bad thing is, tenure-track positions are difficult to get and so is tenure.
I wasn't really ever considering dropping out, anyway; I've just realized how little choice I really have. Anyway I'll probably enjoy it more if I work harder at it. And I didn't choose all the best classes this semester, but I will for next semester.
Midterms are over, thank goodness! Except for French, which does not at all worry me. I haven't got my grades back from the midterms so I'm still anxious about that but at least I can move on to think about other things.
Inspired by H and her pretty apartment, I am looking into making small upgrades on the cuteness of mine. We got a new couch, and although it is smaller and less comfy that the old one, I think it's much cuter, and there's no need for a slipcover that must be constantly re-adjusted, and anyway I think a smaller couch fits my small living room better. They always say it's important to have your furniture be to scale. I've found some pretty red vases to go in the living room, and I'm going to add some picture frames that match the ones I have and put pictures of my family and Sam's from the wedding in them, and Sam doesn't necessarily know this, but we're definitely getting a nice-looking chair to go with the couch, and I've found that cinnamon sticks make a great natural potpourri.
Poor Sam. Yesterday before our date night I dragged him through Bed, Bath and Beyond, Gracious Home and Pottery Barn. We're headed to Ikea next weekend, even though it's all the way down in Brooklyn. I've actually never been to Brooklyn before. I've been to Queens, but only accidentally when I took a subway train in the wrong direction.
We had Sunday brunch today, which seems like a very New York thing to do. I've definitely perfected my french toast recipe, and we've decided to make it a Christmas morning tradition. We booked our tickets to go back to Texas for Christmas. To save money, we're flying on Christmas afternoon and flying back New Year's Day.
I'm always looking for recipes of the cheap/healthy/quick/tasty persuasion, so if you have any that meet any of these qualifications, please share. I especially like things I can prepare ahead of time and cook at the last minute, so that I can cook ahead on weekends.
Why do weekends end so quickly? I'm not ready for another week, and I'm especially not ready to start thinking about term papers.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Another Tuesday has finally ended
Tuesdays have been my least favorite day for a while now. Yesterday was one of those Tuesdays where nothing I tried to do seemed to work out. And the buses and subways were particularly irrational. I tried a different route for my Tuesday commute after hearing about a crime comitted at one of my subway stops at the exact time that I'm usually there (only it was a Sunday, not a Tuesday). So I ended up on a bus, which I had been on before, and it should've stopped right outside the gate of the campus, but it didn't - it kept going. That is the worst feeling in the world, to be on a crowded bus that has just passed your stop. Fortunately it stopped probably less that 1/4 mile away, so it wasn't a big deal. And then I called Sam to have him meet me at the subway stop that the bus took me to so that we could right home together and I wouldn't have to wait at the stop alone, but he had to wait 1/2 for the subway to get there and I did have to wait alone, although I wouldn't have had to if I hadn't called him, because the train got there right when I did.
You just can't beat this city. You just have to accept it. Which I can usually do, except after such a long day as yesterday was. Suddenly I've got a lot of work to do for my assistantship. In addition to cataloging books and helping another professor with lots of different projects, I'm going to be holding review sessions once a week for a beginning Latin class and office hours for a Greek class. Two weeks from today I have my first midterm, and two weeks from tomorrow I have a midterm and a presentation in the same class.
So it's not really getting cold in New York, but the other day the apartment apparently decided it was cold enough for the heater to turn on. Our heat is included in our rent so we don't really pay for it (at least not separately) and we also don't, apparently, control it. There are two strange-looking contraptions, one in the living room and one in the bedroom, which, come to find out, are called radiators. I maybe knew this a long time ago before I moved to Texas, where turning on the heater really just means turning off the air conditioner.
Anyway, these heaters naturally deemed it appropriate for themselves to turn on one late night when Sam was gone and I was tired from class. They did so with very strange noises coming from the bedroom, and I, ever-paranoid about burlaries even when they are physically impossible, went to see what was happening there. There were strange hissing noises coming from the white thing in the corner that sounded rather sinister. My first thought was, "oh my gosh, it's a gas leak, and I'm going to die." I've heard about gas leaks and I've seen the people in movies who turn on their gas stoves to commite suicide, and then think better of it. (I don't usually watch movies in which people think of suicide without thinking better of it). Then I thought, "no, don't be ridiculous, it's just noisy because this is the first time it's come on this winter." So I went back to the living room.
Usually at night I get unreasonably hyper after feeling sleepy all day, but that night I felt ridiculously drowsy. This worried me, because I was pretty sure drowsiness was one of the symptoms of dying from inhaling gas. So I thought, "maybe I should call my parents." But I didn't want to sound silly so I put off calling them until it occured to me, that if I were to die, it might look like a suicide, unless I called someone.
They said it was fine but I opened a window for ventilation, just in case.
You just can't beat this city. You just have to accept it. Which I can usually do, except after such a long day as yesterday was. Suddenly I've got a lot of work to do for my assistantship. In addition to cataloging books and helping another professor with lots of different projects, I'm going to be holding review sessions once a week for a beginning Latin class and office hours for a Greek class. Two weeks from today I have my first midterm, and two weeks from tomorrow I have a midterm and a presentation in the same class.
So it's not really getting cold in New York, but the other day the apartment apparently decided it was cold enough for the heater to turn on. Our heat is included in our rent so we don't really pay for it (at least not separately) and we also don't, apparently, control it. There are two strange-looking contraptions, one in the living room and one in the bedroom, which, come to find out, are called radiators. I maybe knew this a long time ago before I moved to Texas, where turning on the heater really just means turning off the air conditioner.
Anyway, these heaters naturally deemed it appropriate for themselves to turn on one late night when Sam was gone and I was tired from class. They did so with very strange noises coming from the bedroom, and I, ever-paranoid about burlaries even when they are physically impossible, went to see what was happening there. There were strange hissing noises coming from the white thing in the corner that sounded rather sinister. My first thought was, "oh my gosh, it's a gas leak, and I'm going to die." I've heard about gas leaks and I've seen the people in movies who turn on their gas stoves to commite suicide, and then think better of it. (I don't usually watch movies in which people think of suicide without thinking better of it). Then I thought, "no, don't be ridiculous, it's just noisy because this is the first time it's come on this winter." So I went back to the living room.
Usually at night I get unreasonably hyper after feeling sleepy all day, but that night I felt ridiculously drowsy. This worried me, because I was pretty sure drowsiness was one of the symptoms of dying from inhaling gas. So I thought, "maybe I should call my parents." But I didn't want to sound silly so I put off calling them until it occured to me, that if I were to die, it might look like a suicide, unless I called someone.
They said it was fine but I opened a window for ventilation, just in case.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Ashy so tired...
Well, I feel vindicated. I spent $185 on my winter coat, and it was on sale from $300. I thought it was a pretty good deal. Unfortunately, as I was walking to the subway stop one day very soon after I bought those shoes, some guy (who was pacing back and forth across the sidewalk talking on his cell phone and paying no attention to people who were actually using the sidewalk properly) stepped on the back of my heel and stretched out one of my shoes. Grrr... I kind of felt like an angry New Yorker at that point.
Grad school is hard. It's a lot of work. Sometimes I wonder, why did I try so hard to get here? Why didn't I pick a major that would allow me to get a real job right out of college and then make a decent salary and live in some nice suburb and get a dog and have a baby? And a fireplace, I've always loved fireplaces...
Oh, well. This is where I am for now and maybe once I actually get to feeling like I know what I'm doing, I'll remember why I thought I wanted to do it.
The one thing I never question is why I married Sam. I've never really had any doubts about him. I love being married. I remember reading in a magazine once a long time ago about the 10 things people never tell you about marriage, or something like that. Most of them weren't that surprising, but the one I actually remember was that once you get married, you feel a stronger common identity with your spouse - you feel more embarrassed when they do something embarrassing, more proud when they do something impressive, etc. I think this is actually true and one of the few things that really changed much when we got married. It might be this that leads to the other thing that changed, which is that we argue a bit more than we used to.
Of course, what everybody always tells you is true is that you have to work hard to communicate with your spouse. Sometimes they have different "love languages." A lot of this is psycho-babble, I know, but I think it is important to let people who love you know what you need, because most of the time, they want to give it to you and just don't know how. For instance, when I have a bad day, I go up to Sam, lift his arms up, and get in them. If he starts to pull away before I'm ready, I just say, "No. The hug is not over." Men can understand messages like this.
I'm not always so direct. The other day I noticed that the roses I had in my little bud vase were dying, so I said to Sam, "If you were thinking about surprising me with something today, I'm definitely NOT expecting a few stems of red carnations like the ones they sell at the stand down the street on the corner...that would be such a surprise." He didn't jump on this opportunity so at lunch I threw away the dead roses, filled my vase with clean water, and called attention to our lovely centerpiece. He agreed that it was nice, and I said, "yes, but don't you feel as if something might be missing?" Can you guess what my thoughtful husband surprised me with later that afternoon? I couldn't contain my amazement. It really was such a surprise.
In general, though, it's best to be very direct with men, so the other evening I told Sam he needed to use more pet names when addressing me. By "pet names," I mean terms of endearment, but Sam took me a little bit too literally, and now calls me "Spot."
Grad school is hard. It's a lot of work. Sometimes I wonder, why did I try so hard to get here? Why didn't I pick a major that would allow me to get a real job right out of college and then make a decent salary and live in some nice suburb and get a dog and have a baby? And a fireplace, I've always loved fireplaces...
Oh, well. This is where I am for now and maybe once I actually get to feeling like I know what I'm doing, I'll remember why I thought I wanted to do it.
The one thing I never question is why I married Sam. I've never really had any doubts about him. I love being married. I remember reading in a magazine once a long time ago about the 10 things people never tell you about marriage, or something like that. Most of them weren't that surprising, but the one I actually remember was that once you get married, you feel a stronger common identity with your spouse - you feel more embarrassed when they do something embarrassing, more proud when they do something impressive, etc. I think this is actually true and one of the few things that really changed much when we got married. It might be this that leads to the other thing that changed, which is that we argue a bit more than we used to.
Of course, what everybody always tells you is true is that you have to work hard to communicate with your spouse. Sometimes they have different "love languages." A lot of this is psycho-babble, I know, but I think it is important to let people who love you know what you need, because most of the time, they want to give it to you and just don't know how. For instance, when I have a bad day, I go up to Sam, lift his arms up, and get in them. If he starts to pull away before I'm ready, I just say, "No. The hug is not over." Men can understand messages like this.
I'm not always so direct. The other day I noticed that the roses I had in my little bud vase were dying, so I said to Sam, "If you were thinking about surprising me with something today, I'm definitely NOT expecting a few stems of red carnations like the ones they sell at the stand down the street on the corner...that would be such a surprise." He didn't jump on this opportunity so at lunch I threw away the dead roses, filled my vase with clean water, and called attention to our lovely centerpiece. He agreed that it was nice, and I said, "yes, but don't you feel as if something might be missing?" Can you guess what my thoughtful husband surprised me with later that afternoon? I couldn't contain my amazement. It really was such a surprise.
In general, though, it's best to be very direct with men, so the other evening I told Sam he needed to use more pet names when addressing me. By "pet names," I mean terms of endearment, but Sam took me a little bit too literally, and now calls me "Spot."
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
My Tuesday Commute
Starts with 6 blocks of walking, then three different subway trains, then another 1/2 mile of walking. It takes over an hour, and at the end of the day I have to do it over again.
My graduate assistantship, so far, means that I'm making a catalogue of books and assisting in research, which means working on bibliographies, getting books from the library, and helping to proofread things.
I have four classes, since I added French for Reading, and they are on three different campuses. I like the CUNY Graduate Center best, because it's on Fifth Avenue, and I get an irrational sense of importance when I go to Fifth Avenue and I'm actually supposed to be there. The Fordham Rose Hill campus is prettiest, but all the buildings look similar and I still get lost.
The nice thing about commuting on a subway is that you can use the time in ways you couldn't if you were driving. If it's not so crowded that I'm crammed in between a bunch of people (and trying to pretend I don't notice them, which is how New Yorkers seem to deal with this unnatural closeness between strangers) I usually read or write letters. It's harder to do homework, since for me that always involves balancing a dictionary, book, and notebook, but sometimes I try.
I seem to be spending less time in class than I did in undergrad, but a lot more time on homework, which I actually don't mind so much. It's weird for me that Sam isn't in school with me, and that he never has any homework. I guess it's probably weird for him, too. He went off with a friend today to visit the Natural Science Museum. I couldn't go because I have class soon.
But the weekend cometh! Last weekend I took Sam shopping for cool-weather clothes. He lasted the whole day. I found a warm-enough-even-for-winter coat and some non-flip-flops shoes that are actually comfortable enough to walk around the city in. It was a good day. I'm definitely not used to buying the kind of clothes you need in New York. Question: how much would you spend for a winter coat? I think Sam may have thought I spent too much on mine, but I figured it was something you shouldn't skimp on.
My graduate assistantship, so far, means that I'm making a catalogue of books and assisting in research, which means working on bibliographies, getting books from the library, and helping to proofread things.
I have four classes, since I added French for Reading, and they are on three different campuses. I like the CUNY Graduate Center best, because it's on Fifth Avenue, and I get an irrational sense of importance when I go to Fifth Avenue and I'm actually supposed to be there. The Fordham Rose Hill campus is prettiest, but all the buildings look similar and I still get lost.
The nice thing about commuting on a subway is that you can use the time in ways you couldn't if you were driving. If it's not so crowded that I'm crammed in between a bunch of people (and trying to pretend I don't notice them, which is how New Yorkers seem to deal with this unnatural closeness between strangers) I usually read or write letters. It's harder to do homework, since for me that always involves balancing a dictionary, book, and notebook, but sometimes I try.
I seem to be spending less time in class than I did in undergrad, but a lot more time on homework, which I actually don't mind so much. It's weird for me that Sam isn't in school with me, and that he never has any homework. I guess it's probably weird for him, too. He went off with a friend today to visit the Natural Science Museum. I couldn't go because I have class soon.
But the weekend cometh! Last weekend I took Sam shopping for cool-weather clothes. He lasted the whole day. I found a warm-enough-even-for-winter coat and some non-flip-flops shoes that are actually comfortable enough to walk around the city in. It was a good day. I'm definitely not used to buying the kind of clothes you need in New York. Question: how much would you spend for a winter coat? I think Sam may have thought I spent too much on mine, but I figured it was something you shouldn't skimp on.
Friday, August 7, 2009
A Displaced Southern Bell Navigates NYC
My classes don't actually start until September 2, so for these few weeks I'm adjusting to married life in this apartment.
The closest "supermarket" sells several fruits I don't recognize either by sight or by their Spanish names, but not parmesan cheese. Anybody have a good recipe involving quail eggs? I found yeast, finally, at a Kosher grocery store. There's also a tiny "gourmet" place that sells things with labels in alphabets I can't even read. I think it's mostly Turkish and maybe Russian things, but there was definitely some butter from Germany. Lots of marshmellow figures covered in chocolate.
Our apartment looks pretty cute with all of our new wedding presents and the slipcovered sofa and the bookshelves we put up. There are pictures on Facebook. My awesome in-laws helped us move. It's very small, so everything just fits and if one thing is out of place I feel like the whole apartment is a mess. Actually, though, it's decently-sized for NYC. We have a separate kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, and there's enough room in the living room for part of it to be the dining room. There were no blinds when we moved in, and all our windows face the courtyard, so everyone could see everything we were doing. We have curtains up now, but I wonder sometimes about the people that have lived here for a long time and have never done anything about window treatments. You can see into their places anytime you want. It's creepy. We also had to put in a small air conditioner. It's pretty humid here if not hot, and when we opened the windows to get a little breeze we also got all the smells and sounds of all our neighbors' lives.
One thing I learned that may be useful to anyone moving: those "thermal" curtains that say they block out light and help insulate your room so it stays cooler/warmer, really do work. We have them in the bedroom and it's usually the coolest room of the apartment, even without the ac on. When I first say them I thought probably all curtains do the same thing, but they don't. All window treatments are not created equal.
I have now found a fairly normal sized grocery store (about a 20-30 minute ride on the subway from my neighborhood) and have figured out how to get my laundry from the apartment to the laundromat. I use the little red cart-thing my mother in law bought us. It's kind of like something you'd see a homeless person using. But everyone uses it here, even cute people in their 30's and 20's. When I'm ironing, though, you can't really get from the living room to the bedroom or bathroom. My ironing board folds down from the door of our hall closet and blocks the way. I've also located the post-office box and got my NYC library card. We've found a church that we think we may like. It has two services. The one on Sunday nights is where a lot of graduate students and people our age go, and the one in the morning is mostly families. So far we've gone to the one at night but I think I might like to try both, because I like going to church with older people and little kids.
I've found that I'm kind of territorial in the kitchen. I've waited a long time to have my very own kitchen. I've also found that "what do you want for dinner?" is an impossible question to answer. I found this out when someone asked me this. So now I try to give Sam a couple of options to choose from. Much better results. Even restaurants offer choices rather than a blank, "what do you want?"
I'm having trouble getting my paperwork straight with Fordham. I need to let them know that I've legally changed my name before I fill out the payroll paperwork, but none of the numbers I call seem to result in an answer. They just let the phone ring forever and there's no answering machine. I also do not know where my classes are. Two of them will be on the CUNY campus (City University of New York - and there are a LOT of campuses). My registration doesn't list the place or instructer or what books I'm going to need. All I know is that they are in Manhattan, somewhere, and so am I.
Marriage is completely different from dating/being engaged, but it's mostly fun. We're coming up with our own family traditions. We eat breakfast for dinner on Friday nights, have Bible studies together, and don't answer our phones when we're eating together. I think what makes marriage different from dating is that when you're dating, you focus on all the things you have in common. When you're married, you have to confront all of the things you don't have in common and learn to reconcile your different ways of living, and working, and coping with stress, etc. And you have to face the reality that everything you do, every little weakness you indulge, affects someone else. It affects the person you most care about in the world.
Well, I should get back to studying. I'm trying to get prepared for graduate school. So intimidating. I'm also working my way through the many seasons of Seinfeld. I like it because it's a cheerful way of looking at New York.
p.s. - the shopping here is fabulous, and if anyone wants to visit me, we have a sleeper sofa and I would love the company. :-)
The closest "supermarket" sells several fruits I don't recognize either by sight or by their Spanish names, but not parmesan cheese. Anybody have a good recipe involving quail eggs? I found yeast, finally, at a Kosher grocery store. There's also a tiny "gourmet" place that sells things with labels in alphabets I can't even read. I think it's mostly Turkish and maybe Russian things, but there was definitely some butter from Germany. Lots of marshmellow figures covered in chocolate.
Our apartment looks pretty cute with all of our new wedding presents and the slipcovered sofa and the bookshelves we put up. There are pictures on Facebook. My awesome in-laws helped us move. It's very small, so everything just fits and if one thing is out of place I feel like the whole apartment is a mess. Actually, though, it's decently-sized for NYC. We have a separate kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, and there's enough room in the living room for part of it to be the dining room. There were no blinds when we moved in, and all our windows face the courtyard, so everyone could see everything we were doing. We have curtains up now, but I wonder sometimes about the people that have lived here for a long time and have never done anything about window treatments. You can see into their places anytime you want. It's creepy. We also had to put in a small air conditioner. It's pretty humid here if not hot, and when we opened the windows to get a little breeze we also got all the smells and sounds of all our neighbors' lives.
One thing I learned that may be useful to anyone moving: those "thermal" curtains that say they block out light and help insulate your room so it stays cooler/warmer, really do work. We have them in the bedroom and it's usually the coolest room of the apartment, even without the ac on. When I first say them I thought probably all curtains do the same thing, but they don't. All window treatments are not created equal.
I have now found a fairly normal sized grocery store (about a 20-30 minute ride on the subway from my neighborhood) and have figured out how to get my laundry from the apartment to the laundromat. I use the little red cart-thing my mother in law bought us. It's kind of like something you'd see a homeless person using. But everyone uses it here, even cute people in their 30's and 20's. When I'm ironing, though, you can't really get from the living room to the bedroom or bathroom. My ironing board folds down from the door of our hall closet and blocks the way. I've also located the post-office box and got my NYC library card. We've found a church that we think we may like. It has two services. The one on Sunday nights is where a lot of graduate students and people our age go, and the one in the morning is mostly families. So far we've gone to the one at night but I think I might like to try both, because I like going to church with older people and little kids.
I've found that I'm kind of territorial in the kitchen. I've waited a long time to have my very own kitchen. I've also found that "what do you want for dinner?" is an impossible question to answer. I found this out when someone asked me this. So now I try to give Sam a couple of options to choose from. Much better results. Even restaurants offer choices rather than a blank, "what do you want?"
I'm having trouble getting my paperwork straight with Fordham. I need to let them know that I've legally changed my name before I fill out the payroll paperwork, but none of the numbers I call seem to result in an answer. They just let the phone ring forever and there's no answering machine. I also do not know where my classes are. Two of them will be on the CUNY campus (City University of New York - and there are a LOT of campuses). My registration doesn't list the place or instructer or what books I'm going to need. All I know is that they are in Manhattan, somewhere, and so am I.
Marriage is completely different from dating/being engaged, but it's mostly fun. We're coming up with our own family traditions. We eat breakfast for dinner on Friday nights, have Bible studies together, and don't answer our phones when we're eating together. I think what makes marriage different from dating is that when you're dating, you focus on all the things you have in common. When you're married, you have to confront all of the things you don't have in common and learn to reconcile your different ways of living, and working, and coping with stress, etc. And you have to face the reality that everything you do, every little weakness you indulge, affects someone else. It affects the person you most care about in the world.
Well, I should get back to studying. I'm trying to get prepared for graduate school. So intimidating. I'm also working my way through the many seasons of Seinfeld. I like it because it's a cheerful way of looking at New York.
p.s. - the shopping here is fabulous, and if anyone wants to visit me, we have a sleeper sofa and I would love the company. :-)
Friday, July 3, 2009
Reflections on marriage from the new Mrs. Cole
I'm married! And, after nearly a week, starting to feel like it.
The wedding was crazy stressful up till about 2 hours beforehand, and then it was like a very fast-moving dream. My bridesmaids and other friends are absolutely the most wonderful people in the world, and proved it once again by the amazing job they did taking care of me that day and making everything beautiful with their lovely selves, voices, and thoughtfulness. I'd be the luckiest girl in the world even if I didn't have Sam, because of them! Although the wedding would have been awkward. :-) Either my friends, family, or Sam alone would be enough to make me the luckiest girl, but the combination of all three makes me triply ridiculously blessed. Sarah, Sara, Sarah, Amanda, Lulu, Brie, Julia, Lillian, Stephanie, Hannah, Erica, Jessi - ya'll are amazing and I hope I can be there for you, too, someday, wedding or otherwise.
We are still on our honeymoon in Portland, Oregon. Sam says that it is the most depressed city in the US, according to some statistics or other. I think I'm starting to see why. It's very post-modern. Within walking distance of our hotel there are restaurants of every ethnicity you could think of (including Irish, German, Lebonese and Bosnian). Almost everybody dresses in that weird, hippy/goth kind of way, as if they were trying to be individualistic, but they all look so much the same that they cease to be interesting. Sam's favorite quote is true - "chaos is dull." There's something very unconnected about everything. The Japanese and Chinese gardens here are supposed to be the most authentic in North America. It's as if the people in Portland have sort of re-created "authentic" cultural experiences from all around the world, but don't realize they lost something in the translation. This is really hard to say. It's a beautiful city but I can sort of sense the ennui. Maybe what they lost was a sense of connectedness to the art (including culinary) that makes the culture meaningful. I think that's what's depressing about post-modernism. Things don't seem to mean anything anymore.
On another note, our hotel is fabulous! It's very old-fashioned with bell boys and each person at the desk is also a concierge, and there is a beautiful restaurant and bar in the lobby. It's themed on Old Hollywood, which we were afraid might be cheesy, but they did it very well. And we both love old movies! The other night we watched Casa Blanca, which is very romantic and meaningful for us, because it was right after watching it for the first time that I first told Sam that I loved him, too. That was about a year ago now.
I have so many other stories...honeymoons are awesome. We've decided we'd like to honeymoon for a living, and write a book called "How to Honeymoon Like a Pro" (the irony is, of course, that no one is actually a professional at honeymooning). :-)
The subway is interesting. People seem to forget that they are in public and have the most awkward conversations. They fight and cry and complain about their 6 kids and invite you out to the Irish Pub practically in one breath.
More on honeymoon later. I never finished that scrapbook so I've decided to start writing my love story here, in small pieces. Those who are squeamish about sap are advised to read with caution.
Sam and I met in the beloved "Lounge of Destiny," the nickname for the Classics Department Lounge. But before we met we had a Religion class together. There were about 40 students and we sat on opposite sides of the room. But some enchanted evening - I mean Monday morning at about 11:00, when our class started, Sam and I noticed each other, across a classroom crowded with bored students. For me it was a quickly-developed crush, although we hadn't met. I thought he was very cute and noticed that when he asked or answered questions in class they were thoughtful and well-phrased. Plus he knew Latin and had a proper respect for the philosophers I liked. Sam told me later that he thought I was the prettiest girl in the class and that when he saw me, he actually started wondering if love at first sight were possible. He thought about going home and saying to his roommate, "I saw this girl in Religion and I'm going to marry her." This is the kind of thing someone in a movie might have actually said. But Sam is far too rational, and told himself that he was being irrational, and that it wasn't good to like someone based only on physical appearance.
:-)
I think that's funny.
The wedding was crazy stressful up till about 2 hours beforehand, and then it was like a very fast-moving dream. My bridesmaids and other friends are absolutely the most wonderful people in the world, and proved it once again by the amazing job they did taking care of me that day and making everything beautiful with their lovely selves, voices, and thoughtfulness. I'd be the luckiest girl in the world even if I didn't have Sam, because of them! Although the wedding would have been awkward. :-) Either my friends, family, or Sam alone would be enough to make me the luckiest girl, but the combination of all three makes me triply ridiculously blessed. Sarah, Sara, Sarah, Amanda, Lulu, Brie, Julia, Lillian, Stephanie, Hannah, Erica, Jessi - ya'll are amazing and I hope I can be there for you, too, someday, wedding or otherwise.
We are still on our honeymoon in Portland, Oregon. Sam says that it is the most depressed city in the US, according to some statistics or other. I think I'm starting to see why. It's very post-modern. Within walking distance of our hotel there are restaurants of every ethnicity you could think of (including Irish, German, Lebonese and Bosnian). Almost everybody dresses in that weird, hippy/goth kind of way, as if they were trying to be individualistic, but they all look so much the same that they cease to be interesting. Sam's favorite quote is true - "chaos is dull." There's something very unconnected about everything. The Japanese and Chinese gardens here are supposed to be the most authentic in North America. It's as if the people in Portland have sort of re-created "authentic" cultural experiences from all around the world, but don't realize they lost something in the translation. This is really hard to say. It's a beautiful city but I can sort of sense the ennui. Maybe what they lost was a sense of connectedness to the art (including culinary) that makes the culture meaningful. I think that's what's depressing about post-modernism. Things don't seem to mean anything anymore.
On another note, our hotel is fabulous! It's very old-fashioned with bell boys and each person at the desk is also a concierge, and there is a beautiful restaurant and bar in the lobby. It's themed on Old Hollywood, which we were afraid might be cheesy, but they did it very well. And we both love old movies! The other night we watched Casa Blanca, which is very romantic and meaningful for us, because it was right after watching it for the first time that I first told Sam that I loved him, too. That was about a year ago now.
I have so many other stories...honeymoons are awesome. We've decided we'd like to honeymoon for a living, and write a book called "How to Honeymoon Like a Pro" (the irony is, of course, that no one is actually a professional at honeymooning). :-)
The subway is interesting. People seem to forget that they are in public and have the most awkward conversations. They fight and cry and complain about their 6 kids and invite you out to the Irish Pub practically in one breath.
More on honeymoon later. I never finished that scrapbook so I've decided to start writing my love story here, in small pieces. Those who are squeamish about sap are advised to read with caution.
Sam and I met in the beloved "Lounge of Destiny," the nickname for the Classics Department Lounge. But before we met we had a Religion class together. There were about 40 students and we sat on opposite sides of the room. But some enchanted evening - I mean Monday morning at about 11:00, when our class started, Sam and I noticed each other, across a classroom crowded with bored students. For me it was a quickly-developed crush, although we hadn't met. I thought he was very cute and noticed that when he asked or answered questions in class they were thoughtful and well-phrased. Plus he knew Latin and had a proper respect for the philosophers I liked. Sam told me later that he thought I was the prettiest girl in the class and that when he saw me, he actually started wondering if love at first sight were possible. He thought about going home and saying to his roommate, "I saw this girl in Religion and I'm going to marry her." This is the kind of thing someone in a movie might have actually said. But Sam is far too rational, and told himself that he was being irrational, and that it wasn't good to like someone based only on physical appearance.
:-)
I think that's funny.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Story Time
Last week I had my first wedding nightmare.
We were getting ready to start the processional for the ceremony, at a church I didn't recognize. It was one of those huge circular or semi-circular churches with about a million different aisles, and we weren't sure which one we were supposed to enter. We weren't sure which bridesmaid was supposed to go first, either, or when she was supposed to go. Stephanie and Lillian kept poking their heads out to see and looked ridiculous until finally they all went. Then I told Matthew to go, and he promptly took off in the direction of the choir pit, not to be seen again.
Then it was my turn, I assumed, but then I realized that my dad wasn't there. It took me a while to find him and then he looked at me and was like, "why are you in those clothes? why aren't you wearing your dress? Go put your dress on!" And I looked down and thought, now this is interesting, why am I not in my dres? So I put it on and then realized that it was not my dress. It was a very cute Jane Austin style dress with an empire waist and long sleeves, and the bodice was a yellowy cream color and the rest was white. But it certainly wasn't my wedding dress and I came out and I was like, "Dad, I don't think this is my dress." And he got really impatient like I was being ridiculously picky and was like, "Ashley, just wear that dress and stop worrying. We have to go!" So we went down the long, long aisle.
When we got to the altar there was another couple in the middle of their ceremony! I was really embarassed and started ackwardly backing up, and I turned to my dad and said, "why did we come so early? It isn't even our turn yet!" Then I looked at the bridesmaids.
There were six girls in dresses of the correct cornflower hue, and three or four other girls, whom I didn't recognize, in their own dresses of various patterns, standing with the bridesmaids and talking to them. But I didn't recognize two or three of the bridesmaids, either, so I asked them who they were. Then Sara Garrett, with exaggerated patience, said to me, "well, Ashley, Erica couldn't make it, so she sent a replacement. But she fits the dress." And then I asked who the other girls were. The unidentified bridemaids explained that they had brought friends along to talk to in case they got bored. Then I asked Erica's representative what her name was and she said, "Ashley Diane."
But that's my name.
But that's my name.
Right before I woke up I remember being relieved to think that maybe it wasn't the real wedding, but only the rehearsal, and then I was relieved to realize it was only a dream. Apparently I should have asked Erica to be a bridesmaid, although I sincerely hope, Erica, that you come yourself and don't send some replacement who has my name as a hostess. I want to see your very own face! :-)
A couple of nights ago I had a sequel to this wedding nightmare. It was set during the reception. I'm not sure what I was wearing but I remember thinking it couldn't have been my beautiful white gown because everyone was ignoring me. It was like it was Sam's party and not mine at all. I didn't even seem to be there in the capacity of his girlfriend, let alone his bride. Sam did all the cake cutting and everything and was being toasted and cheered and he ignored me along with the rest of the guests, most of whom I didn't know. So I got some cake and drinks with Sara and Sarah and we went to a little corner and ate and I think had a really nice girl talk, like old times. Then suddenly the reception was over and the party was breaking up and I realized I was supposed to go with Sam on his honeymoon and suddenly I got really angry, and thought, (sarcastically) "this guy's going to have a really fun honeymoon after what he did to me! I'm not even going to speak to him the next 11 days!" Then I woke up.
Sam has assured me he will not forget about me at our wedding.
I really wanted to post some wedding-planning pictures I've been taking, but in moving from the dorm I seem to have misplaced the cord that lets me get pictures from my camera to my computer, so here's what I have. They are of me at the opera in January, of my desk while I was writing the thesis, of me with my future sister-in-law and of course, of the back of my dress!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
30 days
More and more things are getting checked off my to-do list, which I have just finished making. (Check!)
I had my dress fitting complete with all the proper underpinnings, and I think I have all my accessories ready except for earrings. For my "something old," I'm wearing a diamond tennis bracelet that belonged to my dear Grandmom who died about ten years ago. For my "something borrowed" my other grandmother (Nano) has loaned me a necklace that has a very pretty and delicate diamond pendant. I have a garter and of course, my shoes and veil. I don't think I'm going to put anything in my hair except the veil but I still have not settled on a hairstyle. The dress is new and I also have something blue.
We tested cakes Wednesday and decided on the Mexican Vanilla. It's unique to the bakery we chose, I think, and has cinnamon in it. I love cinnamon. Our cake is going to be 4 tiers, I think, with flat-front buttercream icing, a simple border, real rose petals for decoration, and our initials as a cake topper. I kind of like non-fussy things, but they said fondant was hard to work with and I don't think very many people like the taste of it, so I think this cake will be perfect.
Sam got measured for his tux and ordered his groomsmen gifts. We're working on photos for the slideshow, mix cds for the reception, and a scapbook/story book detailing the story of how we met and fell in love, etc. I've never done a scrapbook before but I think our story is pretty awesome and worth writing down. I'm hoping to get it done and have it displayed, along with bridal portraits and engagement pictures, at the table where the guest book will be.
I have to go back up to Waco in another couple of weeks to try on my dress. Meanwhile I'll be getting organized, trying to make money, working out and actually enjoying being a bride. :-) My bridesmaids, groom, and other friends have been awesomely awesome and I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
Another Matthew story:
Today I tied our wedding rings on the little pillow and asked him to practice his special job for the ceremony. He was too hyper at first but when Dad came home I said, "let's show Daddy what you're going to do at the wedding," and he got excited. Mom played the part of Stephanie, the Maid of Honor, and told him to let her walk a little and then follow. He giggled a lot, let her walk and then ran across the living room and threw the pillow down. Mom says he'll be fine when it's time for the actual ceremony, but will probably want a little microphone time at the reception. I wonder if it's every customary for the Ring Boy to give a toast?
He's declared tomorrow to be a holiday, Apple Pie Day, and assures me that I will be permitted to assist in the baking of the Apple Pie, provided that I promise not to "cook wrong."
I had my dress fitting complete with all the proper underpinnings, and I think I have all my accessories ready except for earrings. For my "something old," I'm wearing a diamond tennis bracelet that belonged to my dear Grandmom who died about ten years ago. For my "something borrowed" my other grandmother (Nano) has loaned me a necklace that has a very pretty and delicate diamond pendant. I have a garter and of course, my shoes and veil. I don't think I'm going to put anything in my hair except the veil but I still have not settled on a hairstyle. The dress is new and I also have something blue.
We tested cakes Wednesday and decided on the Mexican Vanilla. It's unique to the bakery we chose, I think, and has cinnamon in it. I love cinnamon. Our cake is going to be 4 tiers, I think, with flat-front buttercream icing, a simple border, real rose petals for decoration, and our initials as a cake topper. I kind of like non-fussy things, but they said fondant was hard to work with and I don't think very many people like the taste of it, so I think this cake will be perfect.
Sam got measured for his tux and ordered his groomsmen gifts. We're working on photos for the slideshow, mix cds for the reception, and a scapbook/story book detailing the story of how we met and fell in love, etc. I've never done a scrapbook before but I think our story is pretty awesome and worth writing down. I'm hoping to get it done and have it displayed, along with bridal portraits and engagement pictures, at the table where the guest book will be.
I have to go back up to Waco in another couple of weeks to try on my dress. Meanwhile I'll be getting organized, trying to make money, working out and actually enjoying being a bride. :-) My bridesmaids, groom, and other friends have been awesomely awesome and I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
Another Matthew story:
Today I tied our wedding rings on the little pillow and asked him to practice his special job for the ceremony. He was too hyper at first but when Dad came home I said, "let's show Daddy what you're going to do at the wedding," and he got excited. Mom played the part of Stephanie, the Maid of Honor, and told him to let her walk a little and then follow. He giggled a lot, let her walk and then ran across the living room and threw the pillow down. Mom says he'll be fine when it's time for the actual ceremony, but will probably want a little microphone time at the reception. I wonder if it's every customary for the Ring Boy to give a toast?
He's declared tomorrow to be a holiday, Apple Pie Day, and assures me that I will be permitted to assist in the baking of the Apple Pie, provided that I promise not to "cook wrong."
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Gittin' 'Er Dun
I've worked out 5 times this week, had four shifts at work (and tomorrow's a double), played a lot with Matthew and...
this wedding is so going to happen. I ordered my shoes, bridesmaids' gifts, and cake topper. I bought a dress for the rehearsal dinner, arranged for a fitting for my wedding dress and cake testing, called the marriage license place, and got an email saying the ring bearer pillow has come in.
Matthew doesn't like being called a "Ring Bearer." He says, "I'm not a bear, I'm a boy!" So we call him the Ring Boy. :-) I can't wait to see him in his little tux - he's going to look sooo cute! Not unlike the groom. :-)
this wedding is so going to happen. I ordered my shoes, bridesmaids' gifts, and cake topper. I bought a dress for the rehearsal dinner, arranged for a fitting for my wedding dress and cake testing, called the marriage license place, and got an email saying the ring bearer pillow has come in.
Matthew doesn't like being called a "Ring Bearer." He says, "I'm not a bear, I'm a boy!" So we call him the Ring Boy. :-) I can't wait to see him in his little tux - he's going to look sooo cute! Not unlike the groom. :-)
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Transition Time
Well, undergraduate college is over. Everything got done and I graduated from the honors program. I moved out of the dorm and now I'm here in Corpus, with four goals: make $$, work out, spend time with my parents and little brother, and finish wedding planning.
I've written most of my thank-you notes for the various wedding showers and I check the mail everyday for response cards so I can get a better idea of the number of people to expect. Sam and I have to go back to Waco soon for cake testing, and I have to have a dress fitting. Sam booked the honeymoon, though, so we're officially going to Portland, Oregon for ten days. We also have all the flowers for people to wear/carry ordered as well as centerpieces for the reception tables. The people doing the cake are also providing the pretty disposable things and drinks. I still have to get together some photos for the slideshow at the rehearsal dinner, find a dress for the rehearsal dinner, buy shoes for the wedding, order rental tablecloths, pick out the appetizers and find serving platters for them, plan the bachelorette party, finish thank-yous...
Matthew keeps peaking over my shoulder to see if the cursor is a dinosaur or not.
I'm actually a lot less stressed out now that I don't have to go to school. Tonight I start work again at the restaurant. Yay waitressing! It kind of sucks but it's nice to bring home cash every night.
I've written most of my thank-you notes for the various wedding showers and I check the mail everyday for response cards so I can get a better idea of the number of people to expect. Sam and I have to go back to Waco soon for cake testing, and I have to have a dress fitting. Sam booked the honeymoon, though, so we're officially going to Portland, Oregon for ten days. We also have all the flowers for people to wear/carry ordered as well as centerpieces for the reception tables. The people doing the cake are also providing the pretty disposable things and drinks. I still have to get together some photos for the slideshow at the rehearsal dinner, find a dress for the rehearsal dinner, buy shoes for the wedding, order rental tablecloths, pick out the appetizers and find serving platters for them, plan the bachelorette party, finish thank-yous...
Matthew keeps peaking over my shoulder to see if the cursor is a dinosaur or not.
I'm actually a lot less stressed out now that I don't have to go to school. Tonight I start work again at the restaurant. Yay waitressing! It kind of sucks but it's nice to bring home cash every night.
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