This is the extent of my Olympic watching this year …
After catching the Olympic fever -- bad -- a couple weeks ago, I made a quick recovery … and thoughts of the Olympics went by the wayside.
Other responsibilities got in the way. I spent Thursday night driving; I spent last weekend packing boxes. The Olympics became the furthest thing from my mind. So goes the state of things in my life right now; there’s more important things to do …
I missed Evan Lysacek winning gold. I missed Lindsey Jacobellis's latest gaffe. I missed all but Apolo Ohno's first race, and thus his record-breaking performances. I also missed Shaun White, Lindsey Vonn; I missed Joannie Rochette and the women's figure skating.
But I made a pact today that I was going to relax and watching the gold medal hockey game between the U.S. and Canada …
What. A. Game.
When Canada went up 2-0 in the second period, the game looked all but over. But the U.S. got on the board midway through the second … Things got tense …
When Zach Parise scored the tying goal -- seemingly out of nowhere -- with 24 seconds left in regulation, I flew off the coach and nearly broke my hand slapping it on the coffee table in celebration.
Then, I reached for my laptop, posted the word “Scoooooooooooorrrrrrrrre!” on my Facebook and Twitter and joined the jubilation that was lighting up the social networks … I’ve said it before, and I’ll said it again: I love that! Nothing like watching a game virtually with dozens of friends across the country.
Unfortunately, the jubilation turned to dismay when Sydney Crosby scored the winning goal for Canada in overtime.
Doh. Canada … At the least, I’m happy for the Canadians winning it on their home turf.
But, man, it would have been sweet to see the U.S. win that game …
The intensity and excitement of the game reminded me repeatedly of my hockey-watching glory years during the late ’90s and early 2000s, following the Colorado Avalanche and living with a roommate who was a die hard Detroit Red Wings fan. Good times.
Sure, I'll watch the closing ceremonies tonight. But right now I'm feeling like this afternoon offered all the Olympic memories I need.
2.28.2010
2.25.2010
The music in my head
So Janell Wheeler got the boot tonight from 'Idol.' … Seriously, America? More of you voted to keep Haeley Vaughn!? And Lacey Brown!? Seriously!?
If Didi Benami had gone, too, America, you would have had some 'splainin' to do.
Um, Ashley Rodriguez, Tyler Grady, Joe Munoz -- it was sort of fun. Best of luck.
I'm addicted to Neko Case's "Middle Cyclone" lately ... Her vocals on "The Pharaohs" are so angelic and ingrained in my head that I've been hearing them in my sleep. "I'm An Animal" has just as tight of a hold on me.
I also can't seem to get enough of Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson's swell "Break Up" concept album. It's an absolute pleasure to listen to from start to finish -- although "Relator" (I'm totally taken by the video) and "Shampoo" seem to be getting the most plays on my ipod.
Check it out ...
There's a group making waves on Facebook lately called "When I was younger I would record my favorite songs off the radio onto tape."
The tagline ...
As a kid, I'd play Nintendo games with the sound turned off just so I could have a radio going next to me on the floor, a blank cassette tape in the deck, just waiting for my latest and greatest favorite song to be played.
Then, at the moment I heard the first notes, I'd make a dive for the record button (Maybe that's how I got so good at pinpointing songs after hearing just a couple notes ...). If I was successful, I'd dance around the room in a celebration of securing the song to a cassette tape that I could play over and over and over ... If I missed the song, I'd lament the notion that I might never have the opportunity to hear the song again. (Thank you iTunes and YouTube. Because of you, I can play songs like this favorite on demand.)
Or I'd blame the DJ for blabbering too long and preventing me from getting a song's signature opening. I particularly remember -- while making a radio mix tape of favorite "oldies" -- having a fit over missing the beginning of The 5th Dimension's "Aquarius" and asking my mother whether she thought I should keep the recording or dub over it and hope for another chance.
Many, many nights of doing homework at the desk in my bedroom and then tripping over my chair and bed to get to the radio's record button also come to mind.
I recorded songs off the radio into my college days. And to this day, I still have boxes full of those tapes.
Classic.
If Didi Benami had gone, too, America, you would have had some 'splainin' to do.
Um, Ashley Rodriguez, Tyler Grady, Joe Munoz -- it was sort of fun. Best of luck.
* * *
I'm addicted to Neko Case's "Middle Cyclone" lately ... Her vocals on "The Pharaohs" are so angelic and ingrained in my head that I've been hearing them in my sleep. "I'm An Animal" has just as tight of a hold on me.
I also can't seem to get enough of Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson's swell "Break Up" concept album. It's an absolute pleasure to listen to from start to finish -- although "Relator" (I'm totally taken by the video) and "Shampoo" seem to be getting the most plays on my ipod.
Check it out ...
* * *
There's a group making waves on Facebook lately called "When I was younger I would record my favorite songs off the radio onto tape."
The tagline ...
Back before you could get your hands on CD's there were these things called tapes... remember?Of course I joined it!
Sitting by the radio waiting for your favorite song, then quickly hitting the record button when it came on.
CLASSIC !
As a kid, I'd play Nintendo games with the sound turned off just so I could have a radio going next to me on the floor, a blank cassette tape in the deck, just waiting for my latest and greatest favorite song to be played.
Then, at the moment I heard the first notes, I'd make a dive for the record button (Maybe that's how I got so good at pinpointing songs after hearing just a couple notes ...). If I was successful, I'd dance around the room in a celebration of securing the song to a cassette tape that I could play over and over and over ... If I missed the song, I'd lament the notion that I might never have the opportunity to hear the song again. (Thank you iTunes and YouTube. Because of you, I can play songs like this favorite on demand.)
Or I'd blame the DJ for blabbering too long and preventing me from getting a song's signature opening. I particularly remember -- while making a radio mix tape of favorite "oldies" -- having a fit over missing the beginning of The 5th Dimension's "Aquarius" and asking my mother whether she thought I should keep the recording or dub over it and hope for another chance.
Many, many nights of doing homework at the desk in my bedroom and then tripping over my chair and bed to get to the radio's record button also come to mind.
I recorded songs off the radio into my college days. And to this day, I still have boxes full of those tapes.
Classic.
2.24.2010
'Idol' thoughts
Let me start by saying this: If there’s one reason I keep watching “American Idol” this season, it’s to see what Andrew Garcia will bring each week.
I've never declared myself a fan of Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar We’re Going Down.” But Garcia’s acoustic take on it tonight was sweet music to my ears -- much like his much-talked-about Hollywood Week performance of “Straight Up.” I wholeheartedly disagreed with the judges on "Sugar," and I was completely surprised to hear all four of them say they weren't impressed with the performance. (Simon: "Not original enough" ... Have you heard the original!?)
Up to the moment Garcia started singing Wednesday night, I’d been thinking I was thisclose to being over and done with “American Idol.”
Not one of the 24 Idol wannabes gave a performance that had me feeling so giddy I’d risk -- quoting a recent description of me from my friend Tom -- “passing out from a music-euphoria-induced coma.” And believe me folks, I can be a sucker for some pretty raunchy music sometimes … (Now I’m starting to wonder if I'm crazy for liking Andrew Garcia’s “Sugar” performance as much as I did ...)
Maybe it’s that I’ve got so much going in my life right now to care. Maybe it's that there’s a dozen other things I could be doing than wasting two hours, three nights a week, watching what feels more and more like a karaoke singing competition.
Maybe it’s that I’m not feeling the kind of attachment to any of the contestants this year that I remember feeling during past seasons for a Chris Sligh, a Gina Glocksen or a Brooke White ...
Maybe it's that I've been watching "Idol" for too long and the novelty has worn off for me.
Wednesday night’s guys night performances were dreadful. Aside from Garcia, none of them made an impression on me.
I haaaaaated Todrick Hall's performance of “Since U Been Gone.” Sure, I give him props for changing it up and taking the kind of risk the judges lust for. But I haaaaaated it.
Jermaine Sellers (“Get Here”), Tyler Grady (“American Woman”), Lee DeWyze (“Chasing Cars”) and John Park ("God Bless the Child") -- I couldn’t wait for their performances to finish.
I’ve never understood what the judges see in Tim Urban and was utterly dismayed when I read the judges had decided to bring him back to the competition. Interestingly, everything Simon said in his critique about Urban’s performance was what I’d been saying during his previous performances.
And Kara’s flirt fest with Casey James was just wrong, even if his rendition of “Heaven” was decent.
Ok, Michael Lynche’s smooth rendition of “This Love” made a slightly more positive impression on me. The judges were just lukewarm on Lynche’s take, too, even though he did a commendable job of making the song his own without “murdering it” (ahem, Todrick).
For the girls on Tuesday night, I had higher expectations than the boys. But all the girls offered were two hours of mostly bad song choices, terrible runs and forgettable performances.
Haeley Vaughn? Have I mentioned I don’t understand what in the world the judges hear in her voice? Truth be told, her version of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” was better than I could have predicted, and it might have been her best performance to date. But seriously, she’s like a little school girl wailing off-key in the shower. She’s gotta go.
And Lacey Brown made a valiant effort trying something different on “Landslide,” but there’s no lying -- it was awful. Like Simon, I was ready for it to end after about 15 seconds. Haeley might actually be safe, thanks to Lacey. And thank you, Randy, for reminding the younglings that Fleetwood Mac made “Landslide” famous, not the Dixie Chicks … And Kara, pulling out the references to Sixpence and The Sundays -- nice!
I had seen Janell Wheeler and Katie Stevens as frontrunners until Tuesday night. Now, I’m not so sure. And I’m not getting the "dark horse" fuss about Siobhan Magnus.
As for my bright spots from Tuesday night?
Didi Benami stole my heart singing Ingrid Michaelson’s “The Way I Am.” My thoughts about Miss Ingrid are no secret, and I thought Didi‘s version was a charmer. I totally disagreed with Simon; I get a strong Brooke White vibe from her, which might be good sign that Didi could go far. That’s not so good for winning the whole thing, though, and I get what the judges meant about her being too sleepy.
Crystal Bowersox, I thought, was the best of the girls with her coffeehouse take on Alanis Morissette’s “Hand in My Pocket” -- one of my all-time favorites. Loved her vocal, loved her acoustic guitar, loved her harmonica-playing, and I’d totally download her version from iTunes. I’ll bet Crystal is in the top 12, easy.
Here's a good read from The New York Times: On ‘Idol,’ Shifts in Power, Not Talent
I've never declared myself a fan of Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar We’re Going Down.” But Garcia’s acoustic take on it tonight was sweet music to my ears -- much like his much-talked-about Hollywood Week performance of “Straight Up.” I wholeheartedly disagreed with the judges on "Sugar," and I was completely surprised to hear all four of them say they weren't impressed with the performance. (Simon: "Not original enough" ... Have you heard the original!?)
Up to the moment Garcia started singing Wednesday night, I’d been thinking I was thisclose to being over and done with “American Idol.”
Not one of the 24 Idol wannabes gave a performance that had me feeling so giddy I’d risk -- quoting a recent description of me from my friend Tom -- “passing out from a music-euphoria-induced coma.” And believe me folks, I can be a sucker for some pretty raunchy music sometimes … (Now I’m starting to wonder if I'm crazy for liking Andrew Garcia’s “Sugar” performance as much as I did ...)
Maybe it’s that I’ve got so much going in my life right now to care. Maybe it's that there’s a dozen other things I could be doing than wasting two hours, three nights a week, watching what feels more and more like a karaoke singing competition.
Maybe it’s that I’m not feeling the kind of attachment to any of the contestants this year that I remember feeling during past seasons for a Chris Sligh, a Gina Glocksen or a Brooke White ...
Maybe it's that I've been watching "Idol" for too long and the novelty has worn off for me.
Wednesday night’s guys night performances were dreadful. Aside from Garcia, none of them made an impression on me.
I haaaaaated Todrick Hall's performance of “Since U Been Gone.” Sure, I give him props for changing it up and taking the kind of risk the judges lust for. But I haaaaaated it.
Jermaine Sellers (“Get Here”), Tyler Grady (“American Woman”), Lee DeWyze (“Chasing Cars”) and John Park ("God Bless the Child") -- I couldn’t wait for their performances to finish.
I’ve never understood what the judges see in Tim Urban and was utterly dismayed when I read the judges had decided to bring him back to the competition. Interestingly, everything Simon said in his critique about Urban’s performance was what I’d been saying during his previous performances.
And Kara’s flirt fest with Casey James was just wrong, even if his rendition of “Heaven” was decent.
Ok, Michael Lynche’s smooth rendition of “This Love” made a slightly more positive impression on me. The judges were just lukewarm on Lynche’s take, too, even though he did a commendable job of making the song his own without “murdering it” (ahem, Todrick).
For the girls on Tuesday night, I had higher expectations than the boys. But all the girls offered were two hours of mostly bad song choices, terrible runs and forgettable performances.
Haeley Vaughn? Have I mentioned I don’t understand what in the world the judges hear in her voice? Truth be told, her version of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” was better than I could have predicted, and it might have been her best performance to date. But seriously, she’s like a little school girl wailing off-key in the shower. She’s gotta go.
And Lacey Brown made a valiant effort trying something different on “Landslide,” but there’s no lying -- it was awful. Like Simon, I was ready for it to end after about 15 seconds. Haeley might actually be safe, thanks to Lacey. And thank you, Randy, for reminding the younglings that Fleetwood Mac made “Landslide” famous, not the Dixie Chicks … And Kara, pulling out the references to Sixpence and The Sundays -- nice!
I had seen Janell Wheeler and Katie Stevens as frontrunners until Tuesday night. Now, I’m not so sure. And I’m not getting the "dark horse" fuss about Siobhan Magnus.
As for my bright spots from Tuesday night?
Didi Benami stole my heart singing Ingrid Michaelson’s “The Way I Am.” My thoughts about Miss Ingrid are no secret, and I thought Didi‘s version was a charmer. I totally disagreed with Simon; I get a strong Brooke White vibe from her, which might be good sign that Didi could go far. That’s not so good for winning the whole thing, though, and I get what the judges meant about her being too sleepy.
Crystal Bowersox, I thought, was the best of the girls with her coffeehouse take on Alanis Morissette’s “Hand in My Pocket” -- one of my all-time favorites. Loved her vocal, loved her acoustic guitar, loved her harmonica-playing, and I’d totally download her version from iTunes. I’ll bet Crystal is in the top 12, easy.
Here's a good read from The New York Times: On ‘Idol,’ Shifts in Power, Not Talent
2.23.2010
I shall believe
I’m home again. The one in The ‘Ville …
Part of me is happy to be back here. The other part of me is wishing I could be in two places at once … I got to spend five nights and four days with Kates and Pheebs. Two extra nights and two extra days than what I had planned, which made it that much harder to leave them.
The original plan was to spend Friday driving there and Monday driving back. But I was granted an early leave Thursday afternoon, and as it turned out, I got out just in time because The ‘Ville got walloped with another snowstorm Friday morning … Then, as I was preparing on Sunday night to begin my drive back, winter weather was still affecting The ‘Ville, and the forecast for K-Town was just as foul. As emails flew among my colleagues and I on Sunday night, I was all but advised to stay put.
I didn’t argue. We were having a good weekend being a family …
When I arrived late Thursday night, of course, Phoebe was asleep, and I’d have to wait for Friday morning to see her reaction to me being home … Before I awoke, Kates started the morning routine, getting Phoebe dressed and ready for daycare. Then Phoebe got her morning milk and plopped herself on the couch to watch her Elmo video.
Around that point, I walked down the hallway and appeared in front of her … But she didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even miss a gulp of her milk. Instead, her little eyes just peered at me over her bottle, as if to say, “What’s up, Daddy.” Even as I took a seat next to her on the couch -- nothing.
It wasn’t until Kates and Phoebe were about to leave for the daycare that Pheebs’ true emotions started showing. In one of her signature signs of affection and trust, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the back door, saying, “Daddy, come.” I obliged and helped her to the door before handing her off to Kates, who led her out the door … Once Kates and Phoebe were outside, and I began to close the door, Phoebe realized I wasn’t going with them, and the waterworks began. She did not want to let me out of her sight.
As Friday continued, I worked from home. Hundreds of miles from my office, it never ceases to amaze me how mobile our society has become … I also joined some old newspaper friends for lunch at the iconic Coffee Pot. Before that, I went to the News to meet my friend Laura, and stepped inside the newsroom for the first time since leaving two months ago. It was wonderful to see some former colleagues. I relished the notion that I’m in a better place now.
On Friday afternoon, Kates was running late on her way to pick up Phoebe and called me to go and keep Phoebe company at the daycare until she arrived; I would have picked up Phoebe myself but I no longer have a car seat in my vehicle … When I arrived, Phoebe ran to me and jumped into my arms like never before. And she stayed there for the duration, showing no intentions of letting go. Every couple minutes she just stared at me, eventually catching my eyes and giggling like she couldn’t believe it was really me.
Back at the house Friday evening, I found myself on the couch watching Barney with Phoebe -- something I wouldn’t have been caught doing dead a couple years ago. And yet, I realized, in those moments, I couldn’t have been happier.
The other highlight was playing blocks with her. She’d dump her blocks onto the floor and command me to join her on the floor: “Daddy, sit down!”
Her personality is showing more each day, and she’s learning words by the minute. Say something out loud, and she’ll repeat it. She learns the words, and she remembers it. Her memory is getting sharper by the day, too.
To cap the night, Kates and I ordered campfire-style patty melts from one of our favorite take-out joints. We played with Phoebe. We read stories on the “big bed,” we rocked together and put her to bed.
Then Kates and I fell asleep together on the couch, trying to catch up on our TV shows.
Saturday began around 7 a.m. with Phoebe calling “Daaaaaa-dy … Daaaaaa-dy … Daaaaaa-dy” from her crib across the hall. It was amusing because -- even when I’m home -- the first person Phoebe wants in the morning is always Kates -- “Maaaaaa-my” -- and no one else. … So I -- somewhat gladly -- got out of bed to tend to Phoebe while Kates basked in a few extra minutes of bedtime.
By mid-morning, I was in our basement den, and the packing had commenced. The top goal for the weekend was to gut the den of all its clutter, close my beloved baseball museum and reduce all our displays and belongings to a pile of boxes … By 11, our realtor had arrived, and Kates and I were signing paperwork to sell our house. It went on the market Monday morning.
As Kates and I packed things away, and the boxes started mounting, it was hard not to wonder what must be going through Phoebe’s head …. Throughout the day, she galloped among and between the boxes. She sat among the virtual forts, playing with some of my old business cards. And every once in awhile, she’d convince Kates and I to stop packing so we could dance and jump around with her. Phoebe delights in jumping and dancing …
And there was Phoebe’s fascination with the packing peanuts. We probably spent most of the morning doing this …
I wish I could say Sunday and Monday were as enjoyable …
My parents came Sunday afternoon to help with the packing operations. Mother-dominated conversations turned to Kates’ job prospects. And the sale of our house. And the purchase of a new house. And closing dates. And moving dates. And vacation visits. Things that, in my mind, are months in the future.
I listened as politely as I could … Until eventually, I snapped. “I can’t think about that stuff right now!” I shouted at my mother.
Looking back on the exchange now, I can only reason that this whole moving thing and the finality of leaving our house -- the beloved house in which we’ve lived and improved and made our own during the last 5 ½ years -- is starting to hit me. There were some weird feelings bubbling inside me over the weekend, as we decluttered and packed. The walls are mostly barren now and we’re missing many of the family photos that added charm and personality to our home. Phoebe’s toys have been mostly packed away and relegated to our basement rec room. Worst of all, my baseball museum has been reduced to a coordinated stack of boxes, and I’m fearing I might never recapture its grandeur.
I’ve made a lot of big moves in my life, and I’ve always been an independent person. I can fend for myself.
Still, never before has my life felt so upside down as it feels right now. I’m living in two totally different worlds. I feel the pull of my world in The ‘Ville, to be there and work and do what’s best for my career.
And yet I have my two wonderful girls in K-Town, who I long to be with, dine with, laugh with and experience life with. I want to run and play blocks with Phoebe. I want to watch TV and hold Kates. I want to work on our house, in our yard, take walks around the block.
I just have to be patient … No one said this would be easy.
Part of me is happy to be back here. The other part of me is wishing I could be in two places at once … I got to spend five nights and four days with Kates and Pheebs. Two extra nights and two extra days than what I had planned, which made it that much harder to leave them.
The original plan was to spend Friday driving there and Monday driving back. But I was granted an early leave Thursday afternoon, and as it turned out, I got out just in time because The ‘Ville got walloped with another snowstorm Friday morning … Then, as I was preparing on Sunday night to begin my drive back, winter weather was still affecting The ‘Ville, and the forecast for K-Town was just as foul. As emails flew among my colleagues and I on Sunday night, I was all but advised to stay put.
I didn’t argue. We were having a good weekend being a family …
* * *
When I arrived late Thursday night, of course, Phoebe was asleep, and I’d have to wait for Friday morning to see her reaction to me being home … Before I awoke, Kates started the morning routine, getting Phoebe dressed and ready for daycare. Then Phoebe got her morning milk and plopped herself on the couch to watch her Elmo video.
Around that point, I walked down the hallway and appeared in front of her … But she didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even miss a gulp of her milk. Instead, her little eyes just peered at me over her bottle, as if to say, “What’s up, Daddy.” Even as I took a seat next to her on the couch -- nothing.
It wasn’t until Kates and Phoebe were about to leave for the daycare that Pheebs’ true emotions started showing. In one of her signature signs of affection and trust, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the back door, saying, “Daddy, come.” I obliged and helped her to the door before handing her off to Kates, who led her out the door … Once Kates and Phoebe were outside, and I began to close the door, Phoebe realized I wasn’t going with them, and the waterworks began. She did not want to let me out of her sight.
As Friday continued, I worked from home. Hundreds of miles from my office, it never ceases to amaze me how mobile our society has become … I also joined some old newspaper friends for lunch at the iconic Coffee Pot. Before that, I went to the News to meet my friend Laura, and stepped inside the newsroom for the first time since leaving two months ago. It was wonderful to see some former colleagues. I relished the notion that I’m in a better place now.
On Friday afternoon, Kates was running late on her way to pick up Phoebe and called me to go and keep Phoebe company at the daycare until she arrived; I would have picked up Phoebe myself but I no longer have a car seat in my vehicle … When I arrived, Phoebe ran to me and jumped into my arms like never before. And she stayed there for the duration, showing no intentions of letting go. Every couple minutes she just stared at me, eventually catching my eyes and giggling like she couldn’t believe it was really me.
Back at the house Friday evening, I found myself on the couch watching Barney with Phoebe -- something I wouldn’t have been caught doing dead a couple years ago. And yet, I realized, in those moments, I couldn’t have been happier.
The other highlight was playing blocks with her. She’d dump her blocks onto the floor and command me to join her on the floor: “Daddy, sit down!”
Her personality is showing more each day, and she’s learning words by the minute. Say something out loud, and she’ll repeat it. She learns the words, and she remembers it. Her memory is getting sharper by the day, too.
To cap the night, Kates and I ordered campfire-style patty melts from one of our favorite take-out joints. We played with Phoebe. We read stories on the “big bed,” we rocked together and put her to bed.
Then Kates and I fell asleep together on the couch, trying to catch up on our TV shows.
* * *
Saturday began around 7 a.m. with Phoebe calling “Daaaaaa-dy … Daaaaaa-dy … Daaaaaa-dy” from her crib across the hall. It was amusing because -- even when I’m home -- the first person Phoebe wants in the morning is always Kates -- “Maaaaaa-my” -- and no one else. … So I -- somewhat gladly -- got out of bed to tend to Phoebe while Kates basked in a few extra minutes of bedtime.
By mid-morning, I was in our basement den, and the packing had commenced. The top goal for the weekend was to gut the den of all its clutter, close my beloved baseball museum and reduce all our displays and belongings to a pile of boxes … By 11, our realtor had arrived, and Kates and I were signing paperwork to sell our house. It went on the market Monday morning.
As Kates and I packed things away, and the boxes started mounting, it was hard not to wonder what must be going through Phoebe’s head …. Throughout the day, she galloped among and between the boxes. She sat among the virtual forts, playing with some of my old business cards. And every once in awhile, she’d convince Kates and I to stop packing so we could dance and jump around with her. Phoebe delights in jumping and dancing …
And there was Phoebe’s fascination with the packing peanuts. We probably spent most of the morning doing this …
* * *
I wish I could say Sunday and Monday were as enjoyable …
My parents came Sunday afternoon to help with the packing operations. Mother-dominated conversations turned to Kates’ job prospects. And the sale of our house. And the purchase of a new house. And closing dates. And moving dates. And vacation visits. Things that, in my mind, are months in the future.
I listened as politely as I could … Until eventually, I snapped. “I can’t think about that stuff right now!” I shouted at my mother.
Looking back on the exchange now, I can only reason that this whole moving thing and the finality of leaving our house -- the beloved house in which we’ve lived and improved and made our own during the last 5 ½ years -- is starting to hit me. There were some weird feelings bubbling inside me over the weekend, as we decluttered and packed. The walls are mostly barren now and we’re missing many of the family photos that added charm and personality to our home. Phoebe’s toys have been mostly packed away and relegated to our basement rec room. Worst of all, my baseball museum has been reduced to a coordinated stack of boxes, and I’m fearing I might never recapture its grandeur.
I’ve made a lot of big moves in my life, and I’ve always been an independent person. I can fend for myself.
Still, never before has my life felt so upside down as it feels right now. I’m living in two totally different worlds. I feel the pull of my world in The ‘Ville, to be there and work and do what’s best for my career.
And yet I have my two wonderful girls in K-Town, who I long to be with, dine with, laugh with and experience life with. I want to run and play blocks with Phoebe. I want to watch TV and hold Kates. I want to work on our house, in our yard, take walks around the block.
I just have to be patient … No one said this would be easy.
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