Danny and Annie

When I lived in Vermont, I had no clock, so in one of his magnificent care packages, K. sent me one, complete with a radio alarm, for I hate to wake to a buzzer.

Now it's by our bed. This morning, it went off at 6.50, and NPR flooded the room loud and clear. Usually one of us hits it, but this morning, we listened to this project called Story Corp. Apparently there is a New Jersey man named Danny who loves to talk to Story Corp about his wife, Annie.

He was described as a bald toothless gnome of a man, and his voice was pure grit, but he spoke tenderly about how much he loves his wife. Apparently he's done this so often that Danny and Annie are now the "faces"-- or voices rather-- of Story Corp. My favorite was when he said being married is like having a color television-- you don't ever want to go back.

Of course, they are re-visiting the story of Danny and Annie because Danny has cancer, and is expected to die soon. He says he doesn't expect to live, but he and Annie talk often of hope-- hope for her future after he's gone.

There are not enough men or women who wear their heart on the sleeves, and it is so exhilerating to see someone do so. Embarrassing, of course, especially for us Wasps. But exhilerating nonetheless.

Check their pics out at http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5230164

HAPPY THOUGHTS

you can always just go to bed.

bathtubs.

somewhere, the sun is shining.

spring is coming.

there are many beautiful shades of bubblegum pink tonenail polish.

george bush can not be president longer than his term (thank you, mr. roosevelt.)

tulip bulbs.

the earth will run out of oil. (YEAH! WOOHOO! WHAT WILL WE DO NEXT?)

saturday could involve: french toast, coffee, a grapefruit, a walk.

celebrities and their oh-so-traumatic lives.

all-girl bookclubs.

dogs and people who like dogs.

thunderstorms.

screen porches.

three-day weekends.

swimming in a sun-warmed lake.


kisses chickies!

heads' up!

Why is it that lists of things to do before you die include items such as:

write the great american novel
learn to speak french
travel to the great wall of china

and so on.

right now, i have several ambitions, and they look like this:

learn to make slipcovers
get our taxes done
plan interesting lunches for next week, so my husband doens't have to eat dinty moore out of a can (which is really very good, but also very much like canned dog food).
keep writing my not-the-great-america-novel
get something done to my eyebrows

and so on :)

nonetheless, i firmly beleive that it is important to keep in mind those things you'd really LIKE to accomplish, as opposed to the ones you kinda have to accomplish (read taxes).

so think, people, think, and then do what i do best: list. because if you're like me, you might forget.

V Day Approaches

I have never really been single. Not something that's couth to say, but it's true-- I counted up the months in high school, and there were 8-- combined-- of singleness, and then in college, well, the minute I broke up w/my highschool boyfriend I was madly in love with K.

But depite all my years of coupledom, I've never had a truly superb Valentine's Dy. Or even a romantic one. My old boyyfriend paid for Chinese take-out once. And back BEFORE I was with K., he sent me some really beautiful tea that made me very angry at Chinese-take-out boyfriend.

Why am I telling you this? Because I am boldly shattering the myth that all couples have February 14ths filled with teddy bears, massage oils, and romantic dinners. Actually, I've always thought the single versions of V-day sounded great-- chick flick, pajamas, and chocolate. Mmmm. Chick flicks. A moive without 1: really awesome special effects 2: loud noises and spilling intestines and 3: car chases that supposedly make up for the complete lack of plot and ridiculous dialogue.

In essence, Valentine's Dy is a day of loathing for Singles and Smug Marrieds alike-- because all it does is higlight what's not there*. So buy your chocolate, and call your mom. She'll be glad to hear from you.

Peace out chickens

* I am blessed with a very romantic husband-- who nonetheless has a deep, deep aversion to being told what to do and when to do it.

Getting to the Golden Years

Kagan and I have been talking a lot these days about retirement. By the by, I am a champion worrier, and really, I can freak out about the most far-off event, even if I don't know that it will happen. We had the kids conversation BEFORE we started dating, and the remarraige post-death conversation less than a month after our wedding.

But anyway, retirement. The idea of having enough money to do nothing for twenty odd years of my life strikes me as some strange pot-of-gold urban legend, but I am assured that it is possible (especially with compound interest) if I get off my butt and open a Roth IRA.

Here's what retirement looks like for me: I have a place to live that I like, and I can quit my day job. (With any luck, I can retire in five years :) ) To accomplish this, I need to make a lot of money and stash it away, manipulating the tax system like silly putty.

So how did anyone ever retire? Come on, I know there were old people before social security came and went. How did they live? Did they starve? Did they just drop dead in the fields? Were adult children nicer? Did you die rather than go to the doctor/hospital?

I have to say I'm not really sure.

What's In A Name?

I like my name. I like my husband's name. I think a fair bit about names.


top 10 names in 2005 (in order of popularity):

Emma Emily Madison Kaitlyn Sophia Isabella Olivia Hannah Makayla Ava

Aidan Jacob Ethan Nicholas Matthew Ryan Tyler Jack Joshua Andrew


I confess I'm a big fan, especially when you compare them to the '80s:


Jennifer Jessica Amanda Melissa Sarah Nicole Heather Amy Michelle Elizabeth

Michael Jason Christopher David James Matthew John Joshua Robert Daniel


And just for kicks, let's look at the 60's:


Mary Susan Karen Maria Lisa Linda Donna Patricia Debra Deborah

David Michael John James Robert Mark William Richard Thomas Steven


The weirdest thing of all? Savannah, which is the name my sister and I duel over, is n. 47 on the 2005 list.

All the good names are taken (pout, flounce-off).

Just for kicks: Things I Don't Believe In ctd.

nuclear power

living together pre-marriage

mean men

pantyhose

sweaters with faces on them (read santa clause, reindeer, etc.)

deficit spending

this crazy, crazy idea that opening up that one last tiny piece of Alaska will somehow save us from foreign oil dependence (really-- look at a map.)

being bad at your job

vegetarianism

lunching with co-workers you don't really like

annual letters about how great your family is (oh, mom and i had so much fun with this one. we'd compose them in the car. this year, dad moved four times, the septic tank erupted into the library, alexe got two speeding tickets and went to three driving schools, eliza began bathing regularily, and oh, our dog died.)

negativity :)

cheerio children.