Every evening after Amelia does her 20 minutes of mandatory bedtime reading she insists that I make-up three stories. This has been going on for months.
"Mom I cannot sleep until I hear your stories," She tells me.
I am beginning to run out of ideas. Within the last couple of weeks Amelia has decided to let me off the hook. I make-up two and she makes up one. Her stories are hilarious and morbid. Tonight's was about a zombie that ate every single person in the world. His belly exploded and gooey people ran out of it. The earth was filled with slimy half zombie people. Crazy-right? Do I need to send my kid to a shrink? Perhaps.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Grammy fug
I have said it before and I will say it again--I don't understand why people waste their pretty by dressing like morons at the Grammys! It KILLS me!
Here is a sampling of the ugly:
Here is a sampling of the ugly:
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Sean
My uncle Sean died on my birthday. I was oblivious to that fact until the next morning. My mom sent me an e-mail to announce his death. I never received it. She mentioned it the next morning over the phone while I was sitting in front of a Starbucks in Normal heights. I was waiting for Scott, the film writer at the Reader to show up. We were meeting to discuss a story collaboration. I was crying when he walked up. I don't like to cry publically. It makes me feel weak. It was humiliating. He handed me some napkins and said I looked like a raccoon because I had black smears of mascara under my eyes. He was trying to make me laugh. I did, a little.
Sean was in his 60s. He had been sick for a long time. Sean was my dad's older brother. I have been told that as a baby I would crawl into his lap and follow him around everywhere he went. He had a sharp wit and would laugh often. During my gawky adolescent years he lived with us. He would stick up for me when I came home with awful report cards or got in trouble at school.
In the last few years I have had dreams of my dad and Sean together. About a year ago I dreamt that the two of them were sitting together on a bench. Sean was wrapped in a blanket and my dad was studying x-ray images belonging to Sean. I'd like to believe that the dreams mean something. Maybe the two of them are together. I don't know if I believe that people hang out leisurely after death. I have always found that sentiment extremely naive. I remember someone, an aunt or an uncle, telling me after my dad died: "How nice it must be for your father to be with his parents." The thought enraged me. I'm not sure why.
I was able to write Sean a letter a few days before he died. My biggest regret with my dad was that I didn't tell him things I should've before he died. I tried to do that with Sean. I sent an e-mail to my aunt in Ireland, in which she printed up to bring to Sean in the hospital. She said he kept it where he could see it before he died. I am thankful for that.
Sean was in his 60s. He had been sick for a long time. Sean was my dad's older brother. I have been told that as a baby I would crawl into his lap and follow him around everywhere he went. He had a sharp wit and would laugh often. During my gawky adolescent years he lived with us. He would stick up for me when I came home with awful report cards or got in trouble at school.
In the last few years I have had dreams of my dad and Sean together. About a year ago I dreamt that the two of them were sitting together on a bench. Sean was wrapped in a blanket and my dad was studying x-ray images belonging to Sean. I'd like to believe that the dreams mean something. Maybe the two of them are together. I don't know if I believe that people hang out leisurely after death. I have always found that sentiment extremely naive. I remember someone, an aunt or an uncle, telling me after my dad died: "How nice it must be for your father to be with his parents." The thought enraged me. I'm not sure why.
I was able to write Sean a letter a few days before he died. My biggest regret with my dad was that I didn't tell him things I should've before he died. I tried to do that with Sean. I sent an e-mail to my aunt in Ireland, in which she printed up to bring to Sean in the hospital. She said he kept it where he could see it before he died. I am thankful for that.
Monday, February 6, 2012
A Trip
Aaron is gone for one full week. My mom hates when I announce these things publically. I think she believes that there will be pillaging and raping.
On Friday night I had dinner with Aaron’s mom and her husband. Since Aaron is gone it was just the kids and I. They were on a lay-over from a trip to South Korea. My brother-in-law is getting married. They flew to Korea to meet my soon to be sister in laws family.
They talked solely about Korea during dinner. I was excited to hear about their adventure.
"Julia’s family is very powerful in Korea,” Aaron's step-dad told me.
“They are aristocrats.” my mother in law added.
Over the course of my meal I was told about all the multimillionaire Koreans they ate dinner with, the famous Buddhist monk that blessed Jesse’s engagement, the 5 star hotels Julia’s family lodged them in, the exact dollar amount her family would be spending on the wedding, and how they were certain that Jesse would be set up with a sweet job after he was married. I was trying to conceal the fact that all of it irked me. I have an expressive face and tend to overuse sarcasm. The combination of the two has always gotten me into trouble.
I felt intense jealousy. I know how stupid that is. I think a part of me hoped that something would be off—that they would get to Korea and feel uncomfortable. Isn’t that terrible? What is wrong with me?
In all, the evening made me feel irrelevant. I know that wasn’t their intent but that is how I felt.
The good news in all of this is that in June Aaron and I will attend the wedding in South Korea. We will be there for a week. I think it is going to be a great adventure.
On Friday night I had dinner with Aaron’s mom and her husband. Since Aaron is gone it was just the kids and I. They were on a lay-over from a trip to South Korea. My brother-in-law is getting married. They flew to Korea to meet my soon to be sister in laws family.
They talked solely about Korea during dinner. I was excited to hear about their adventure.
"Julia’s family is very powerful in Korea,” Aaron's step-dad told me.
“They are aristocrats.” my mother in law added.
Over the course of my meal I was told about all the multimillionaire Koreans they ate dinner with, the famous Buddhist monk that blessed Jesse’s engagement, the 5 star hotels Julia’s family lodged them in, the exact dollar amount her family would be spending on the wedding, and how they were certain that Jesse would be set up with a sweet job after he was married. I was trying to conceal the fact that all of it irked me. I have an expressive face and tend to overuse sarcasm. The combination of the two has always gotten me into trouble.
I felt intense jealousy. I know how stupid that is. I think a part of me hoped that something would be off—that they would get to Korea and feel uncomfortable. Isn’t that terrible? What is wrong with me?
In all, the evening made me feel irrelevant. I know that wasn’t their intent but that is how I felt.
The good news in all of this is that in June Aaron and I will attend the wedding in South Korea. We will be there for a week. I think it is going to be a great adventure.
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