i woke up this morning and the world was fluffy white. trust minnesota to deliver. it's still snowing like a banshee. (i think like a banshee is a minnesota thing) Kari and I had a GREAT drive, semi-adventureous, and she met my family and now she is somewhere near Duluth, probably covered in more snow that we are.
now i need some snow pants so i can go sledding. well ok i think i will just go to target instead.....and eat turkey leftovers later.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
CHILDHOOD INSTA-RECALL
HOW TO RECALL CHILDHOOD INSTANTLY:
1. Rediscover Apple Juice
2. Read Green Eggs and Ham before going to bed at night. (Occasionally switch to the Cat in the Hat, or One Fish Two Fish...)
3. Make someone read Shel Silverstein to you.
4. Put on lots of layers of clothes and go fall down in the snow. Make a snow angel.
5. Eat copious amounts of grilled cheese sandwiches and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, without the crust.
6. Buy a night light and use it. (They got really cool ones these days, way better than when we were children)
1. Rediscover Apple Juice
2. Read Green Eggs and Ham before going to bed at night. (Occasionally switch to the Cat in the Hat, or One Fish Two Fish...)
3. Make someone read Shel Silverstein to you.
4. Put on lots of layers of clothes and go fall down in the snow. Make a snow angel.
5. Eat copious amounts of grilled cheese sandwiches and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, without the crust.
6. Buy a night light and use it. (They got really cool ones these days, way better than when we were children)
7. Gather all the pillows and blankets in your house and make a fort using the table and chairs.
8. Line all the stuffed animals in the house around your bed to fight off the monsters.
9. Watch your favorite show ten times in a row until you know all the words. Then say them aloud everytime you watch it.
10. Stare wide-eyed at everyone around you. Smile when they look at you funny and laugh if they make a face.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Spaghetti Day
Wednesday is Spaghetti Day. The day when my entire family eats spaghetti. Kind of funny, right? Why spaghetti? Why that day? Well, I am going to just go ahead and tell you. See, you can't stop me, because this is my blog. I get to decide what goes in it. You get to decide to read it and you could stop now, but I bet if you've made it this far, you won't. Doesn't matter, cuz I'm still going cogitate on the matter regardless.
Does it have to be Prego? Why yes it does. The Chicago faction has dropped the carrot sticks and added salad and Cory's famous garlic bread, while the St. Paul faction may or may not have dropped the chocolate cake requirement a few years ago due to the calorie content....red wine is optional in Chicago, pretty much a big no-no in St. Paul. Meat, also optional, changes year to year. But the main thing is that the Garretts and the Claeys' eat spaghetti.
It's what we do, to commemorate, celebrate the day, that we all came together and became a family. It was the day my twin and I moved in, not the official adoption, cuz that happened a year later in a court downtown St. Paul. I was wearing a nicer dress then, that fit. I signed some papers saying, yes, I did want these two particular individuals to be my parents. I was seven then. But the day we moved in. Now that was a strange day. We were six years old. We knew it was going to happen.
Here is how it started: Mommy Lynn sat us down for a talk one day. She had decided to adopt us. She said if we were good and said good things about her to the social workers that she would take us to Valley Fair. I had always wanted to go to Valley Fair. I knew enough about what to tell the social workers and what not to tell them. In fact I knew so much that I actually forgot what I knew I knew. There was a lot we didn't say. Knew it would end up getting us arrested and in jail. So I forgot it, for years actually-because what six year old wants to go to jail? We kept our mouths shut, afterall- we loved our Mommy Lynn. There was another mommy years ago but she stopped loving us (that's what Mommy Lynn said) so we sort of just tried to forget about her. And we tried to do right by Mommy Lynn, she was the only one who was willing to love us, you see. But even though we loved her right well, we still had dreams. Every night I prayed to God to bring me a pretty mommy who would love me because I was me. I wasn't sure if such a mom existed, but I thought I would ask for one just the same. Then Mommy Lynn starts saying all that about 'adopting'.
But the social workers came instead to tell us there were some other people who wanted to adopt us. My brother and I looked at each other in complete surprise-who could possibly possibly.....but it was true. The social workers brought a photo album. The woman was pale like my Mommy Lynn, but with red hair. Actually, fire orange. The man was big and dark, darker than me and my brother. How strange, we thought-they looked sooooooo strange. Come to think of it, neither of us had ever seen a red-headed white person, or a dark black man. At the time I thought it was a sign, realizing for the first time that we never really fit in where we were. All the neighbors called us n^%^ers and Mommy Lynn always had us scrubbing for hours in a hot tub because we were too dirty and dark. But it turns out people were actually just 'that' color.
I remember when they came over the first time, with more pictures of their two kids, mixed pretty as you please and I was fascinated. Once coaxed from behind the couch, that is. We had two sleep-overs. We both got Care Bears. And there were so many cool toys, and the clothes these kids wore (my potential siblings), well they fit! They weren't too big or too small.
But the house smelled funny-different, there was no carpet just hardwood so the stairs creaked and they left lights in the hallways on, where I was used to darkness and tip-toeing. And I still wanted to go to Valley Fair. I was pretty sure I would NEVER get to ride a roller coaster if we let these people take us, but it was so clear that they WANTED us. Like no one ever had before. Someone wanted us? How fricking strange is that, right? Liked us? No way, never happen. But it was happening and somewhere along the way I forgot about Valley Fair (until years later, the 5th grade spring field trip, when I was grounded from it and couldn't go, drat) and agreed, we agreed, to let them be our new family.
I remember moving in day. The station wagon that arrived to pick us up. The sister being so bossy and excited, and the brother being so loud. We, my brother and I, were shy and quiet. Lynn watched from the window as we and our most special toys (he-man and teddy bear and doll) and our suitcase full of clothes that were ten years out of style and sizes too big and small, drove away. She looked real sad. My new sister was the one who burst into tears then. She saw how heart-broken she was. We were kind of glad, though....
The new neighborhood kids were in the backyard of my new home when we got there. They knew we were coming and wanted to know if we would all play with them. We had to put our stuff away. On my new bed, the pink care bear sat, looking at me. I put my things down and went to play. Then, yep, you guessed it. Spaghetti.
Hooray for spaghetti.
Does it have to be Prego? Why yes it does. The Chicago faction has dropped the carrot sticks and added salad and Cory's famous garlic bread, while the St. Paul faction may or may not have dropped the chocolate cake requirement a few years ago due to the calorie content....red wine is optional in Chicago, pretty much a big no-no in St. Paul. Meat, also optional, changes year to year. But the main thing is that the Garretts and the Claeys' eat spaghetti.
It's what we do, to commemorate, celebrate the day, that we all came together and became a family. It was the day my twin and I moved in, not the official adoption, cuz that happened a year later in a court downtown St. Paul. I was wearing a nicer dress then, that fit. I signed some papers saying, yes, I did want these two particular individuals to be my parents. I was seven then. But the day we moved in. Now that was a strange day. We were six years old. We knew it was going to happen.
Here is how it started: Mommy Lynn sat us down for a talk one day. She had decided to adopt us. She said if we were good and said good things about her to the social workers that she would take us to Valley Fair. I had always wanted to go to Valley Fair. I knew enough about what to tell the social workers and what not to tell them. In fact I knew so much that I actually forgot what I knew I knew. There was a lot we didn't say. Knew it would end up getting us arrested and in jail. So I forgot it, for years actually-because what six year old wants to go to jail? We kept our mouths shut, afterall- we loved our Mommy Lynn. There was another mommy years ago but she stopped loving us (that's what Mommy Lynn said) so we sort of just tried to forget about her. And we tried to do right by Mommy Lynn, she was the only one who was willing to love us, you see. But even though we loved her right well, we still had dreams. Every night I prayed to God to bring me a pretty mommy who would love me because I was me. I wasn't sure if such a mom existed, but I thought I would ask for one just the same. Then Mommy Lynn starts saying all that about 'adopting'.
But the social workers came instead to tell us there were some other people who wanted to adopt us. My brother and I looked at each other in complete surprise-who could possibly possibly.....but it was true. The social workers brought a photo album. The woman was pale like my Mommy Lynn, but with red hair. Actually, fire orange. The man was big and dark, darker than me and my brother. How strange, we thought-they looked sooooooo strange. Come to think of it, neither of us had ever seen a red-headed white person, or a dark black man. At the time I thought it was a sign, realizing for the first time that we never really fit in where we were. All the neighbors called us n^%^ers and Mommy Lynn always had us scrubbing for hours in a hot tub because we were too dirty and dark. But it turns out people were actually just 'that' color.
I remember when they came over the first time, with more pictures of their two kids, mixed pretty as you please and I was fascinated. Once coaxed from behind the couch, that is. We had two sleep-overs. We both got Care Bears. And there were so many cool toys, and the clothes these kids wore (my potential siblings), well they fit! They weren't too big or too small.
But the house smelled funny-different, there was no carpet just hardwood so the stairs creaked and they left lights in the hallways on, where I was used to darkness and tip-toeing. And I still wanted to go to Valley Fair. I was pretty sure I would NEVER get to ride a roller coaster if we let these people take us, but it was so clear that they WANTED us. Like no one ever had before. Someone wanted us? How fricking strange is that, right? Liked us? No way, never happen. But it was happening and somewhere along the way I forgot about Valley Fair (until years later, the 5th grade spring field trip, when I was grounded from it and couldn't go, drat) and agreed, we agreed, to let them be our new family.
I remember moving in day. The station wagon that arrived to pick us up. The sister being so bossy and excited, and the brother being so loud. We, my brother and I, were shy and quiet. Lynn watched from the window as we and our most special toys (he-man and teddy bear and doll) and our suitcase full of clothes that were ten years out of style and sizes too big and small, drove away. She looked real sad. My new sister was the one who burst into tears then. She saw how heart-broken she was. We were kind of glad, though....
The new neighborhood kids were in the backyard of my new home when we got there. They knew we were coming and wanted to know if we would all play with them. We had to put our stuff away. On my new bed, the pink care bear sat, looking at me. I put my things down and went to play. Then, yep, you guessed it. Spaghetti.
Hooray for spaghetti.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
There is a plan
It's no coincidence that I just got done reading the parts in Ruhi Book 1 AND Some Answered Questions that were about the soul.
I have no concern as to where she is right now. I am loathe to say she is in a better place, because it is cliche and, well, I'm still pretty sure I'd rather have her here than there. At least for now.
The chain of events is this:
She called me at exactly 6:42PM on November 6. I was in a good mood, had a great party the night before, and I was getting ready to be a part of my first deepening. I heard her cheery voice at the other end and smiled. We exchanged the latest news in our lives, she told me all about how her PhD concentration at school was now going to be sexually abused children. I told her I was very excited because I knew how good a therapist she could be to children, especially in that capacity. I told her I quit smoking. She congratulated me. I told her I loved her so much but that I had to go, but that I really wanted to talk to her again soon. She said, come visit me here in Florida. I said, definitely. She said she loved me too.
She also called Bill that night.
She also called Liz.
She also called her Mom.
Monday she spoke with her aunt and that is the last anyone heard from her.
Someone, I think it was her sister, realized her cell phone had been shut off on Tuesday. She was the only one who could have done this...
Wednesday they found her body and a note. She said she was just tired of being sad all the time. She signed the note with a smiley face.
So for days she knew, she knew when I said I would come visit her, she knew then. And the conviction to die stayed with her for several days.
I can't break into that pain, if I could even understand it, I probably wouldn't be here.
She had enough problems. We all were there for them, had them ourselves, in fact, it's what made us all close at one time or another. Slowly but surely, though, we found other paths. All of us. And she found herself with friends but not superheros. And she left us, moved to Seattle and then to Florida for school. I was worried. But I couldn't follow her out there. And I couldn't ease her pain, and I couldn't change her reality. But I do not feel guilty. Because I had time to prepare, and now I just need some time to grieve. To reconcile the fact that yes, I will never hear her voice again, nor see her face again, nor have her make some ridiculous joke again, nor sit on a back porch with her again, smoke with her again, talk about boys with her again, walk dogs with her again, laugh with her again, or cry with her again.
But I will be with her again. I believe that. So for now I will just be patient.
Friday, November 11, 2005
is this what sadness looks like?
she was bright and shiny most of the time. doom and gloom some of the time. i said she'd end up dead and she now she is dead. she was my best bestest of friends at one time. we are in shock, which is no shock really.
she took the pills and said goodbye without saying goodbye.
molly why did you think so badly of the world that you had to leave it?
molly you know how much i loved you.
she took the pills and said goodbye without saying goodbye.
molly why did you think so badly of the world that you had to leave it?
molly you know how much i loved you.
Monday, November 07, 2005
that's the way i see it today.
Not a compliment: Leslie, you seem like you would be a good sales person! That makes sense that that is what you do.
Compliment: Really, sales? That is not what I would picture you doing at all. Sales? Hmmm...that's weird.
Comment number one was from an uncle several months ago when they, my aunt and uncle, took me out for lunch and gave me a cat.
Comment number two was from this morning, a friend of 7 years, ran into him on the train at 730am. He asked, "What is it you do, anyway?" Last time he and I spoke of jobs (mine, in particular) I was a reading tutor on the west side of Chicago for underprivileged children. I loved that job. That's where I was first called Miss Leslie. That was like, four years ago.
This morning in the sales meeting we discovered that I had the best sales last week. I sold $8,851 worth of promotional products. Go me. My biggest order was for 7,000 New Mother's Kits, to Sudbury District Health in Canada. Good clients. Unfotunately, I still did not make my weekly sales goal. If you do the math I actually sold -$4,149. (I was supposed to sell somewhere in the vicinity of $13,000.) By the way, this number is supposed to be 'motviating'. I am supposed to see that and be all, motivated.
I am going to be about numbers right now.
If I made my sales goal every week, I would make this company $676,000 a year. If I got 10% comission, I would make $67,000. That would be nice. (I don't make my sales goal) and I don't make comission. I make less than half that salary. Considerably less. The thing is, I am thinking about it. I don't really want to be thinking about it. But I am. Go away, thoughts about money. I hate you. Bleh.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
caramel macchiatos and nina simone
and here i sit wondering that it took me this long to discover the wonder of nina. ne me quitte pas. moi, je ne parle pas francais bien, mais je sais qe'elle est tres tres magnifique, non? je prendrait des courses de langue plus d'huit annees.....mais, let me just quit that right now. it's been too long since i had to write in french. ah the starbucks.... and the first espresso i have had in maybe two years, settling in, as i get ready to write an article that at this moment i do not want to write. much rather cuddle on the couch with the cat and watch bad television. instead i am ingesting caffeine preparing for an all-nighter as though i were still in college. note: i am not still in college which means i can't stay up all night, go to class and then take a nap afterwards, no i have to stay bright and shiny for nine hours at work after this. ugh. well maybe i will miss the deadline. i'm such a bad journalist. ugh. ugh. i know that in my lead i want to talk about the definition of family and how it has changed over the years, the problem with that notion is trying to say something like that without cliches is like trying walk through a puddle without splashing. one must walk very carefully.....plus i only have three human sources and technically i should have, well, more. but i was looking through the mag and (the good thing about mags over papers is) they seem to like social commentary by the writers as much as social commentary by the interviewees, meaning, I can get away with writing this in the first person and spouting a few opinions of my own, even an experience or two of my own, which goodness knows, i've had...thing is, i hadn't, up til now, thought to write in that kind of voice. hence, the espresso. i need to ponder this one awhile. nina is hearing the sound of mandalays. i want to hear the sound of mandalays too, trouble is, i am not sure what a mandalay sounds like.
ok. hmmm....ok i got a paragraph, founded in absolutely no fact at all but it's a start. it's a start in the right direction certainly. now you know what i realize, i am hitting another milestone. i have had this assignment for weeks, i have sat down to write it at least 4 times, each time giving up. and you know why??????because of that stupid cigarette. writing like that, begs calls screams for nicotine. i am so so so so so so so wanting a cigarette. i take the deep breaths. but each time i pause and search my brain for the solution to the word puzzle i'm figuring, my body calls for the inhaling pleasure of smoke. don't worry i am not going to crash. i am just saying it because saying it sometimes makes it go away. ok. wish me luck. by the time i get your wish, hopefully i will be done with this baby. cigarette free and done. this saturday makes two months of no smoking. who knew?????
ok. hmmm....ok i got a paragraph, founded in absolutely no fact at all but it's a start. it's a start in the right direction certainly. now you know what i realize, i am hitting another milestone. i have had this assignment for weeks, i have sat down to write it at least 4 times, each time giving up. and you know why??????because of that stupid cigarette. writing like that, begs calls screams for nicotine. i am so so so so so so so wanting a cigarette. i take the deep breaths. but each time i pause and search my brain for the solution to the word puzzle i'm figuring, my body calls for the inhaling pleasure of smoke. don't worry i am not going to crash. i am just saying it because saying it sometimes makes it go away. ok. wish me luck. by the time i get your wish, hopefully i will be done with this baby. cigarette free and done. this saturday makes two months of no smoking. who knew?????
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