Thoughts and Musings

Friends Forever

Eight weeks! Oh. My. God. I'm going to be married in 8 weeks. I love my life. And I love my fiance. So that worked out pretty well, don't ya think?

One Tuesday every month (depending on our respective schedules), three friends and I head over to the Abington Ale House for a "girl's dinner." This is a relatively new tradition with us. I'm not even sure how it started. Some of us had lost touch after high school or college, but somehow we found our way back into each other's lives. I relish this time with these girls. It's a time to let our hair down, have a few drinks, regale each other with tales of work, love, life, and family. It's a time to forget about all that ails us and to come together to laugh, lament, joke, and reminisce. One of these girls, Alana, is my best friend and my maid of honor. I've known her since first grade. The other two, Diane (or Gumby, as she is affectionately known) and Tracee, I met in high school. Diane and I have been close since then. Tracee and I have have grown closer over the years. I love all three and look forward to my time with them...just the girls. On a recent visit to the Ale House, Tracee commented that the four of us seated at that table represented the 4 major stages of a woman's life. Tracee is single and dating; I am engaged to be married; Alana has been married for a number of years, with no children yet; and Diane has been married for a number of years, and has two children. The comment caught us by surprise and we were all silent for a moment as we reflected on it. The four of us came of age together. We've been through a hell of a lot together, and we're all in different places in our lives, doing different things, with different responsibilities, careers, and interests...and yet, every month we come together and laugh as we did when we were 16 and without a care in the world (comparatively speaking, of course). We also use each other as a sounding board, taking into account each person's experiences, and we listen to and learn from each other. And at the end of the evening, we order a fudge brownie sundae with 4 spoons...what's better than that?

I've loved watching my friends grow into the adults they've become. It's been an amazing metamorphasis, and I'm proud to call them all friends. And I look forward to the next Tuesday we sit and break bread together and laugh until our sides hurt.

Et Tu, Aaron?

OK, I know I have a lot to write about here; I know I have to touch on all the subjects I've been trying hard to ignore since my last post...but bear with me a minute while I vent, alrighty?? Is anyone else FREAKED out that Aaron Sorkin has left, quit, EXITED West Wing? I mean we're talking about one of...no, no...THE BEST show on television today, and the creative genius, yes, I said genius, behind it walked out on the last day of production this season! The man wrote 87 of the show's 88 episodes. I am amazed by that! All that brilliant dialogue. I can't bear to think of the show without the pithy comments uttered by the ever-morose Toby, sarcastic Josh, laid-back Leo, etc. And what about the powerful speeches by the POTUS (c'mon, you know this one!)? Who else would have the gall to write dialogue in Latin and NOT translate it for the audience! (From episode 44 "The Two Cathedrals": gratias tibi ago, domine.
[Thank you, Lord.] haec credam a deo pio, a deo justo, a deo scito?
[Am I to believe these things from a righteous god, a just god, a wise god?]
cruciatus in crucem [To hell with your punishments!]
tuus in terra servus, nuntius fui; officium perfeci. [I was your servant, your messenger on the earth; I did my duty.] cruciatus in crucem -- eas in crucem
[To hell with your punishments! And to hell with you!]

Sorkin has battled personal demons in the past, and he likely needs a break from the grueling schedule of the show. But, man, will he be missed.

OK, I'm done whining. {Sigh}. Wait, not yet. Red Sox lost again today. {SIGH}. It's been raining for like a month straight...I'm starting to grow gills. {Sigh} Huh. OK, NOW I'm done whining.

Well, where shall I begin this time? Chaos first. Joe and I recently bought a house. This is not a fun process despite what anyone may tell you. However, I've come out the other side wiser to the ways of the world. We did things right. We first contacted a mortgage broker, got prequalified, then started looking. We were lucky in that we found the house we wanted within 2 weeks. We looked at a total of 5 houses. The fifth was an open house, and it's the one we bought. So that was good. What wasn't so good was the fact that our mortgage broker was a slimeball who almost cost us the house by dragging his feet on the loan. We ended up going through a diiferent company (shout out to Jack Conway Financial), and the process proceeded smoothly.

So we passed papers on April 25. Today is May 28, and we're still not in the bloody house! Ugh. We had hired a contractor to do some work (shout out to Emery Construction...you rock!...and to Robbie L. who recommended them), and what started out as a small-ish job sort of escalated as we discovered a few things that needed to be addressed. First, we discovered that the house wasn't insulated. Huh. OK, so we decided to take down the exterior walls and insulate. Joe and I (with a little help from our friends) did this ourselves (tore down the walls, that is). That was actually fun...destruction is a good way to get out a little pent-up aggression. The windows also needed to be replaced. Mike (our contractor) picked out some beauties and had them in place in no time. But just as we were ready to sheetrock we discovered that the wiring in the house was hella, hella bad. Nothing in the house was grounded. I don't know much about these sorts of things, but I'm pretty sure that's not good. And so we hired an electrician ('nother shout out: to Steve Pinkus, electirican extraordinaire). The problem was we had to pull Mike's guys off the job so Steve could re-wire the houses {sigh}. Anyway, everything got delayed because of the technical difficulties and I ended up having to store my furniture because my lease was up and I couldn't yet put it in the new house. So technically I'm homeless right now. Ain't that a kick? So now the goal is Friday. My cousin Lauren and her new baby Emily are coming to stay with us Friday, as are Joe and Donna. I hate to put guests in the shed, so I'm crossing my fingers we get things buttoned up this week. I have faith in everyone involved. They've all been wonderful and amazingly patient! When all is said and done, we're gonna have them all over for a drink down at the bar...ironically the only room in the house that didn't need a makeover.

So, that's the house saga. Meanwhile, we're still trying to put the finishing touches on the wedding plans. I'm finding it a bit hard to enjoy that because of all the issues with house and moving and everything. So I'm really looking forward to getting settled so I can focus on the wedding and start enjoying the process. One process I did not particularly enjoy was registering. There is a special place in hell for the guy (and it was undoubtedly a guy) who invented those damn scanner things that you walk around the store with to register! By the end of day 1 (it was a 2-trip event!), we had only 25 item on the list. The Bridal Registry Person told us we'd need at least 75 items. You're kidding me, right? Joe and I have both lived on our own for a number of years now...how could we possibly NEED 75 things!? One can only use so many toasters.

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

Well, I have been sorely neglecting this site! It's been about 3 months since my last entry and recently I received a friendly reminder from a faithful reader who wants to know "what the hell is going on?!" That one question opened a whole can o' worms and I responded with the promise to update soon...so here we are.

I'm sitting here listening to "The Retro Pop Reunion" on Mix 98.5 (I'm such a geek), bopping to bands like Def Leppard, Queen, White Snake, and, of course, the ultimate 80's One-Hit-Wonder Band, Frankie Goes to Hollywood..."Relax" baby! So this is as good a time as any to sit and try to sort out the goings-on of the past 3 months. Hmmm, where to start...

Well, ok, in the "real world" the terror alert has been lowered, raised, and lowered again since last I wrote. Elizabeth Smart has returned safely home after being abducted by a psycho handyman and held captive for, what, 8 months? Man, that was something, huh? I have to take back all my nasty thoughts about the girl's father. I was thoroughly convinced he had a hand in her diasppearance. I guess I still have Jon-Benet syndrome. No one will ever convince me that young Miss Ramsey's folks aren't guilty as hell in that horror. I'm not even gonna go there. Um, what else? Oh, the Old Man in the Mountain has, quite literally, lost his head.

I shouldn't joke about that really; it's quite sad. I remember going on various road trips in my youth and sites like The Old Man were always so awe-inspiring. It was one of those things that when you weren't the one driving you always stared at the thing until it became a blur in the distance. The last time I saw it was a few years ago when six of my friends and I rented a house in NH for a week. The only time the car fell silent was when the Old Man came into view. I guess we were all reliving some childhood memory. Then it was behind us and we resumed our usual banter.

Anyway. That's real-world stuff. There's lots more, of course, but I have neither the time nor the desire to reflect all that deeply on what's been going on in this crazy world. I will add one thing: The God damn Sox have gone from first
place--Yes, ahead of the Yankees--back to second...thanks in part to games like today's where they blew a 6-nothing lead to lose it 10-6. Un-freakin' believable. And. AND! They traded Shea Hillenbrand! They traded Shea! Come on! They traded him for a pitcher (who sucked today, by the way), and I know they need pitchers...but SHEA!?! Come ON! {Sigh} Have you noticed that Grady Little sounds exactly like Forest Gump? I'm just sayin'.

So real life aside, there's been a lot happening in my little corner of the universe as well. Some good, some bad, all chaotic! Not in any particular order of occurrence or importance: Joe and I bought a house, which we almost lost thanks to a slimy mortgage broker who tried to screw us but ultimately got his (more on this later...); we are furiously trying to plan for our July wedding; two of my cousins and a dear friend of mine had babies (Hi Evan, Emily, and Jeffrey!); we got a puppy(!); someone I met only a handful of times passed away and it only dawned on me then how deeply she had touched my life; I developed a case of writer's block that has resulted in the temporary (I hope) shelving of the screen play. And on and on and on.

Seeing it all in black and white is a little overwhelming! I'm so glad May is almost over. I'm going to touch on only one of these subjects now and then I'm going to go to bed because I'm exhausted and I don't feel like writing any more so there. The death of Mary Maguire. Mary was a parishioner at Emmanuel Episcopal Parish. She and I met on only a few occasions, usually when she came to the church for St. Mary's Guild meetings. But I remember clearly the first time I met her. I remember because, though I had at that point only ever talked to her on the phone a few times, she gave me the warmest hug I've ever received and made me instantly feel like I was her oldest and dearest friend. We spoke on the phone more frequently after that, usually talking about such things as the weather and the good buys she got at various stores (I got the feeling she really loved to shop). At the end of every conversation she'd say, "Have a wonderful day, my friend, I'll talk to you soon." I loved that she called my her friend. The second time I met her was at a 9/11 memorial service at the church. Emmanuel is not my home church, so when I attended this service I intended to sit alone as I didn't know anyone who regularly worshipped there. But Mary would have none of it; she invited me to sit with her and sat with her hand on my arm the entire time. She was a lovely woman and I miss her dearly. The last conversation we had was short. She called to find out the date of a parishioner's birthday. I don't remember how it came up but I mentioned in passing that I was engaged. His name is Joe, I informed her. And she replied, "That's a good sign...my husband's name was Joe, too...Joe is a good name for good men." It is indeed, Mary, it is indeed. Good night, my friend, I'll see you again.