On Negotiating Relocations

In the Name of Love?

I’m a New Yorker through and through, and so when the idea to relocate anywhere but NYC arose, I was devastated.  Leave my family, friends, and Park Slope familiarity for the Wild West? Never! Or so I thought. It wasn’t until an email from an old friend arrived, someone who was as attached to her New Jersey roots as I was my Brooklyn abode, in which she described her own experiences relocating from the burbs to another continent (Australia!) and discovered a truth she didn't think was possible - she survived.  And so, I reasoned, if she could do it, so could I.  And twenty-four hours later, I committed...and live to tell the tale.  Enjoy!
 
[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Marriage License

Great-ish Expectation.

As with so many aspects of the wedding transition, the practice is about letting go: letting go of pressure, letting go of expectations, letting go of perfection, letting go of the old life, letting go of "shoulds", and letting go of trying to squeeze yourself and your relationship into a preconceived image or model of how you think your relationship is supposed to be. -passage from article

(ps: happy 42nd anniversary to my very happily married parents!)


[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Growing Up

The Great Divide.

Like it or not, we inevitably enter different phases (of our lives) from the (potentially) long-time family and friends around us.  Conversations that once flowed now strain for common ground. New relationships replace the old.  And as families and wrinkles expand simultaneously, we balance the need to evolve into the person, parent, and partner we are becoming with the friend we once were and (might) always be (to some).  Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On (the Real) Einstein

(aka My Dad).

When junior high school science and math fair projects rolled around in the Einstein household, we knew it meant serious bonding time with our father - the architect.  The projects always began the same way, with multiple trips to the (9th street) Brooklyn Public Library to check out as many (adult and children's) books as possible on [cathedrals, the brooklyn bridge, mind over matter, and so on], and (frequently) resulted in a gold or bronze medal.  In between, father and daughter (or son) read and exchanged numerous scientific and mathematical facts before carefully (rubber) cementing perfectly measured methodologies and results on award-winning poster board.  Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Girl Talk

With my next best friend losing her bachelorette status in less than five weeks, this blog will resume in three days (on Monday, January 26th) after this blogger celebrates said milestone.

On Waiting It Out

So It Goes. 

Locking our loved ones up in a pain-proof box protected from the big, bad, unfair world isn’t a viable option and so we must stand by and support them when the going gets tough, reminding them (and us) that this too shall pass.  And since such is life, we'll (all) be stronger for it (in the end) as we maintain mild faith that the light at the end of the tunnel doesn't discriminate, much like the pain and heartache that brought us (all) here in the first place.  Enjoy! 

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Joining (Sticker) Clubs

Initiation Fees.

I join, create, and quit, not necessarily in that order.  I'm passionate but unwilling to commit.  I feel inspired by shares values, interests, and (occasional) obsessions yet prefer to skim the surface of these mutual commonalities.  I've joined book clubs without ever intending to read the actual books.  I created a writer's club that met three times, resulted in a group blog, and never contributed.  Hebrew school included one hour in the early eighties.  I've attempted three graduate school programs in four semesters, two undergraduate universities in eleven months, and started a sleepover club (for adults) right after I moved to Denver (last year) in which only one sleepover was actually had.  I join but I don't, with intentions as ephemeral as the subjects themselves, and initiation fees paid for by guilty consciences and an unmet desire to belong.  Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Modern Courtship

The Infancy Stage.

The infancy stage of a long-term relationship usually entails  over-analyzed text messages, invitations after midnight, and carefully calculated skinny jeans that he probably won't notice anyway.  Multiple glasses of wine half past midnight reveal secrets and flirtations intentionally stifled at half past eight, and jukebox selections intended to impress and indulge.  Enjoy!    

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Another Day Off

With a 3-day weekend in progress, yoga and (my first homemade butternut squash) lasagna will substitute for writing today's blog entry, which will resume tomorrow, Tuesday, January 22nd, with a topic called love. 

On Growing Into Love

Inevitable Failure.

On our tenacious quests to (hopefully) find a person to grow old with, we meet, date, and (even) fall in love with soulmates that will never be.  And along this path of self-reflection, chaos, determination, and heartbreak, we attempt to mold disjointed puzzle pieces into a (near-perfect) picture of what life could (and, in that particular moment, should) be, sometimes in the face of defiance by loved ones, acquaintances, and even ourselves.  Until it's time to move onto the next person, place or thing, the noun that makes more sense for who we are (always) becoming on our non-linear paths towards clarity that will never truly be.  Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Being Frightened

Into the Woods.

My first realization of the quiet vastness of the woods was in 1988 when my parents purchased a small, isolated cabin in the Catskill Mountains. The property lines between neighboring homes (often of summer vacationers rather than year-round dwellers, making it feel even more desolate) consisted of one (to three) acres of unexplored forest.  And I was terrified of them, and stayed as far away as possible, imagining all sorts of deadly animals and bugs (the horror!) that would surely attack (and kill) me if I ever came too close. And so avoided them I did, throughout childhood, adolescence, and eventually adulthood, until relocating to the Rocky Mountains last year, where (ir)rational fears still haunt and the woods are rarely explored without a buddy. Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Photographic Evidence

 
Over a Decade Ago.

Yesterday I received a photograph in the mail from the summer of 2002 (over ten years ago) taken at the second wedding I’d ever attended.  Examining the picture, I was quickly brought back to the time where the arrival of actual photographs took three to five joyful and highly-anticipated days, the result of which almost always left a mixture of delight and disappointment.  In this particular print, despite its decade of experience, the rippled paper still successfully contrasts my sun-kissed (early) twenty-something skin pristinely again the black and beige spaghetti-strapped dress I’d purchased earlier that year during my first (and only) trip to France.  And we were all smiling, in anticipation of the marriage that would last an eternity, of the friendship that still goes strong today, and a subconscious awareness that this particular moment, though temporarily fleeting, might also be memorialized indefinitely. Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Family (TV) Drama

I'm Hooked.

I admit it, I'm hooked, on prime-time dramas, comedies, and even the occasional reality show, of damaged relationships, budding romances, troubled teens, and reality stars on the hunt for love.  Between Sean's quest for a fairy tale ending (The Bachelor) and Christina's battle with cancer (Parenthood), the monotony of my own "real life" takes second stage.   Lannister's quest becomes my quest (Game of Thrones, specifically Tyrion), Dexter's torment my own (Dexter), and productive weeknights spent un-productively over-analyzing the subtle flirtations between Jess and Nick (New Girl), Karev and the intern (Grey's Anatomy), and Anna and Mr. Bates (Downton Abbey, before prison).  Enjoy!
     
[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Being Pen Pals

Postmarked 1908.

With less than ten hours to explore Austin, Texas last month during a work-related visit, I combined recommendations from fellow travelers, friends, and (the travel section of) the New York Times, and ended up on South Congress Street.  Known for it's plethora of vintage, thrift and antique shops, I found myself in a sea of other people's lives, picking through used clothing, kitchen utensils, tin boxes, magnets, stamps, screwdrivers, and records, imagining who and where these dusty collections once lived.  And then I found the postcards - dating back to 1908 with carefully-written (one-to-six line) notes of birthday and holiday wishes, updates on afternoon activities, inquiries about warranted visits, shout-outs to siblings and parents, promises to stay in touch, and almost always a sincerity and longing to be close again.  If and when I got back to Austin, this will be my first (and potentially) only stop. Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Shards of Optimism

 Restaurant Style.

Twice in the last two years, I've had the misfortune of finding shards of glass in my restaurant meals. (I know!)  While most people would react with an assortment of high-volume explications, my typical approach has been to make the most out of the bad situations by asking for the dessert menu.  My near-ish death experiences have introduced me to highly-revered crème brûlées, lobster ravioli, and an appreciation for seizing the moment.  Most recently, when my nut-allergic roommate had an unwarranted run-in with shards of almonds, he was grateful for both my epipen and optimism, and the maple carrot cake that followed.  Enjoy! 

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Flu Season

Disdain Thy Neighbor.

With flu season upon us, my health anxieties have officially kicked into high gear.  While others may categorize my disdain for sniffling coworkers and coughing customer service reps as borderline hypochondriacal, I prefer to think of myself as someone who attentively takes that extra step.  Flu shots a given, wiping down hotel fixtures and singing complete (yet swift) rounds of "Happy Birthday" with each hand wash simply increases my chance of skipping out on this year's germ-fest...and next year's, and the year after that. Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Being a Bride(-to-Be)

Maintaining Perspective.

I've officially joined the ranks of those eager young women whose weeknight evenings are filled with unexpected details of (semi-affordable) photography albums, half-written thank you notes, and bridal FAQs on etiquette and color palates.  What you aren't told is that as soon as you get that (engagement) ring you sought after for months/years/maybe.even.decades, the questions and decisions come crashing down, as highly coveted venues and caterers have already met your bridezilla competitors long before you'd heard of them, relationships-past are inspected with minute morality, and you quickly lose sight of that thang' called perspective.  Enjoy!   

 [Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Sitting Still

Unbroken Habit.

Ever since I got an i-phone (two years ago), I’ve fallen into the black hole of helpless addicts whose faces are resentfully buried deep beneath the electronic boredom, with little to no end in sight. And as I find myself in infinite cycles of checking email (nothing new), sending texts (nothing interesting), facebook liking (nothing I haven’t seen before), I have momentary actualizations of how completely bored I am.  And yet the cycle repeats and repeats and REPEATS until life (is) interrupted by that thing I must do for ten seconds (buckle my seat belt, look both ways, order my meal) and then, without fail or hesitation, my miserable hand reaches for those buttons I’ve learned to hate.  Enjoy!
 
[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]

On Post-Holiday Blues

Until Next Year.

While the majority of folks dutifully take down their holiday cheer within 24-hours of New Year's Day, the exceptional few (of us) hold out for as long as possible.  Dried out pine needles scatter across the already-dusty hardwood floors creating (un)necessary daily sweeping rituals. Greeting cards from loved ones maintain annual (2012) summaries of other people's lives. And leftover Hanukah gelt interrupts renewed vows to get back in shape. But the wait is worthwhile, as ornaments of previous memories glimmer beneath the tired Christmas lights, reminding us of all the new memories waiting to be made on the (365-day) horizon.  (Happy New Year and) Enjoy!

[Blog Reminder: Click on Subtitle Above for Article.]