I've already been married for 3 months and completed over a year of employment at Best Buddies. I've lived in Florida for a year and four months - in that time I've gone home to see my Dad 3 times (and gotten a new baby brother) and gone home to Mom 10 or so times. When I stop to really look back at the past year and four months, it just flew by. In my freshmen year of college, the thought of three more years seemed like an eternity. In terms of my experiences and how I changed in those four years at college, it probably was an eternity but looking back, it just whizzed by. I don't know if this is something of a mid-life crisis but I've recently been feeling so overwhelmed with the magnitude of what I want to accomplish in what seems like such a short period of time.
I'm married at 23 - this, was an unexpected gift. And now that I'm married, I want to have a baby at 25 (it seems arbitrary but I'd like to get started early to avoid the many healthy problems that my mom suffered through in having her babies at 30 and 35). And before having a baby, my husband and I want to get out of debt (a cumulative amount more than our annual income), own a home (I have a sub-prime credit score which will take at least 7 years to repair), loose a combined 100 lbs (I just had cookies for dessert and rice and platanos with my dinner...), we want a certain annual income (about twice what we're making now) and Master's degrees (we haven't even taken a GRE). So when I do the math, I'll be ready to have a baby in my early 30's...more than five years after my goal.
Time just seems to be escaping me.
Mike tells me I just need to take one thing at a time. In the words of Stacy's away message, plan the work and work the plan. But I've always had trouble seperating everything. I guess it's the fatalist in me - I need to pay down my debt, but i don't make enough money, and if I don't make enough money, I can't go back to school, which means I'll be stuck in this job forever, and...well, I think you get it. This is where my mind goes.
Most recently I've been busying myself with projects:
- Catching up on work - I've been checked out the last few months and there is much to do
- Revitalizing the Theta Iota Chapter
- Single-handedly running the first ever SLU auction at our national convention in DC (a trip I'm not even sure I can afford to take)
- Creating a consulting firm with my sister-in-law
- This blog
- A pretty agressive job search
- Reading more...
This is the same approach I had in college - if I keep myself busy enough, it'll all just come together. I guess the hope is that one or more of these projects will bring me to some peace and a sense that it will in fact all be ok.
The largest benefit of having a husband is the confidence that you are not going through any of this along. The detriment of a husband - now you're failures are no longer just yours. If I fail, I've failed him as well.
I assume the most important part of it all is to try and keep some perspective and not let the emotion of it overtake me. Something my friend Sarah says comes with age. For despite my Mrs. status, I am only 23.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Reunion - Saturday, July 19, 2008
Today, three months after the happiest day of my life, I picked-up my wedding dress from the dry cleaners. I was determined to get a certain list of errands done and still make it to the beach for some sun bathing and relaxation before Mike got home from work (5 PM) - really maximize my Saturday. So I was up at 10 (this is early for me on a Saturday) and working - dishes, sorting through all of the laundry that needed to be done, cleaning the kitchen...Jumped in the shower, got all my beach stuff ready and packed into the car. First stop, north to Publix for my beach snacks. Then south to the dry cleaners - drop the dress off at home - and off to the beach.I had been saving up the money to pick up the dress since I dropped it off. And calling the dry cleaners -
Can I pick it up on the 1st?
Sure
Call back - can I pick it up on the 15th?
...not a problem
Well - actually can I get it on the 1st?
yes ma'm...it's still here
I'll be there on the 15th, is that ok?
So finally, this paycheck was the one that put me over the top. I drove up to the dry cleaners...parked, and timidly walked up to the door. I dreaded something would be wrong - they closed early on saturday, gave my dress to Goodwill since it had been there 2 months... something.
The store is open - relief!
I walk-in, receipt in hand - I'm here to pick up THE wedding dress (because mine is the only one that ever had to be laundered before).
The teller goes to the reel to look for it. All of the clothes spin - my eyes frantically running back and forth trying to spot something familiar. STOP
She pulls down my dress - instant Kool-Aid smile!!! It was like seeing my long-lost friend - my 3rd bridesmaid - my partner in all of the anxiety, excitement, joy and love that filled my wedding day.
And...icing on the cake - the check-out woman at the cleaners tells me - is that YOUR dress? It's beautiful...but it looks too big for you.
Oh no, it fits like a glove.
Really? You look a lot smaller than that.
Oh yes, I was happy.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Ode to Bus 54 - July 10, 2008
My good friend Jessica was inspired to begin her blog while riding the 54 Bus in Washington, DC. She always told me about it and I never got myself together to read it. As much as I love email, I find I am often hesitant to move onto all of the other things the Internet holds. I just recently began online shopping...I know, I'm an old lady at heart.
The bus54 blog is currently home to Dispatches from Bolivia which motivated me to be an avid fan of the blog. Phone calls to Bolivia weren't really an option so reading the weekly posts was the best way to stay connected with all of Jessica's adventures. But after my month and a half of commuting via Miami's very interesting public transportation system, I think I was probably missing out on bus54.
Thanks to the rising cost of gasoline, increased parking costs and the legacy of the wedding of my dreams (ask VISA about it), I gave up driving to work and began taking the bus. For those of you who enjoy people watching, let me tell you, the bus is the perfect place to really cultivate your people watching skills...and probably your storytelling as well. You begin to see the same people each day. You see their outfits, where they get on and off and overhear snippets of their lives as they talk on the phone or surprisingly, to each other (yes, strangers).
The most interesting characters so far:
- This man who looked like he was dropped right out of the '80's....like a retired pimp who'd been through some things. He had on those old school air force ones with a mustard yellow Nike check and a matching yellow jumpsuit! Dark shades and a gold chain rounded out the look and I wondered, where could he be going?
- The woman with a voice box who actually spoke to me - Outside of those Truth campaign commercials, I'd never really seen the voice box (I know there's a medical name for it) in person. So that in itself caused some staring (thank God for sunglasses). But then, she put her hand to her neck and spoke to me! It really does sound like a robot. Where could she be going and what is it like to go there everyday and have to work in that condition?
- "When I do XYZ, I can get into my dream school, Devry University. Once I get in there, I'm set, that's where all of the millionaire companies hire from." Who calls Devry their dream school? This is a far cry from my GW classmates and a true testament to the value of advertising. After thinking about it though, it's also a true testament to the elitism I feel...I mean really, how dare I question or gawk at a young man (a young black man) who's trying to get an education. Who am I to judge the quality of that education?
- Pajama Lady - now I know I've been known to go out and have a little too much cleavage but this woman literally had on a night gown! She was very chatty with her fellow commuters - she cleans houses and her husband works at Wendy's - she was at least 40. And as I sat there coming to my own conclusions about how she dressed and what her life must be like, the bus driver was trying to kick a high school kid off the bus. He looked 15 or 16 and had paid 75 cents, the student fare. But he had no student ID to show so pajama lady gives him a dollar - "here you go baby boy. I don't want you to have to get off the bus. Just remember your ID next time OK sweetheart?" Another lesson in humility for me.
The bus54 blog is currently home to Dispatches from Bolivia which motivated me to be an avid fan of the blog. Phone calls to Bolivia weren't really an option so reading the weekly posts was the best way to stay connected with all of Jessica's adventures. But after my month and a half of commuting via Miami's very interesting public transportation system, I think I was probably missing out on bus54.
Thanks to the rising cost of gasoline, increased parking costs and the legacy of the wedding of my dreams (ask VISA about it), I gave up driving to work and began taking the bus. For those of you who enjoy people watching, let me tell you, the bus is the perfect place to really cultivate your people watching skills...and probably your storytelling as well. You begin to see the same people each day. You see their outfits, where they get on and off and overhear snippets of their lives as they talk on the phone or surprisingly, to each other (yes, strangers).
The most interesting characters so far:
- This man who looked like he was dropped right out of the '80's....like a retired pimp who'd been through some things. He had on those old school air force ones with a mustard yellow Nike check and a matching yellow jumpsuit! Dark shades and a gold chain rounded out the look and I wondered, where could he be going?
- The woman with a voice box who actually spoke to me - Outside of those Truth campaign commercials, I'd never really seen the voice box (I know there's a medical name for it) in person. So that in itself caused some staring (thank God for sunglasses). But then, she put her hand to her neck and spoke to me! It really does sound like a robot. Where could she be going and what is it like to go there everyday and have to work in that condition?
- "When I do XYZ, I can get into my dream school, Devry University. Once I get in there, I'm set, that's where all of the millionaire companies hire from." Who calls Devry their dream school? This is a far cry from my GW classmates and a true testament to the value of advertising. After thinking about it though, it's also a true testament to the elitism I feel...I mean really, how dare I question or gawk at a young man (a young black man) who's trying to get an education. Who am I to judge the quality of that education?
- Pajama Lady - now I know I've been known to go out and have a little too much cleavage but this woman literally had on a night gown! She was very chatty with her fellow commuters - she cleans houses and her husband works at Wendy's - she was at least 40. And as I sat there coming to my own conclusions about how she dressed and what her life must be like, the bus driver was trying to kick a high school kid off the bus. He looked 15 or 16 and had paid 75 cents, the student fare. But he had no student ID to show so pajama lady gives him a dollar - "here you go baby boy. I don't want you to have to get off the bus. Just remember your ID next time OK sweetheart?" Another lesson in humility for me.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Types of Love - July 9, 2008
Hey, no new posts?! lol....i thought i would add a random/nice memory to your blog. Now this may apply more to me than you, but here goes lol. One thing I'll always remember about you is how thoughtful you are. I have evidence of this thoughtfulness all over my room (at this very moment). I still have (and cherish) two small wooden jewelry boxes you gave me from DR and a pair of volcanic rock turtles you got me from Italy. I really love them all and wanted to thank you again for thinking of me :)
- Jennifer Kurtz, Elementary School Friend Extraordinaire
Jennifer Kurtz has probably been my biggest fan in terms of this whole blogging endeavor. Who knew so many years ago that we would reconnect in the blogesphere!
Her recent post on my blog reminded me of something another great friend of mine told me about in college. Jessica Lynd is always reading something inspiring, something spiritual and thought provoking and often comes to some very accurate conclusions about the nature of man and the nature of particular people that she knows based on her readings. I think she's really mastered the art of reflecting on what you read.
According to Gary Chapman, there are Five Love Languages and the only way to achieve and express heartfelt commitment to your partner is to fully understand your love language and theirs. Jessica read the book and described the languages to me:
- Words of Affirmation - this person gives and thrives off of verbal appreciation and encouragement
- Quality Time - this person treasures quality conversation and activities, really focusing on spending time with the other person
- Gifts - this person expresses themselves by giving gifts and really treasures any gift that is received
- Acts of Service - this love language involves physical expressions of love in helping others and appreciating when you are being helped
- Physical Touch - self-explanatory
She identified me as someone who expresses themselves by giving gifts and really treasures any gift that is received. I do pride myself on being an excellent gift giver. I always do my best to find that special something for someone...something I've been slacking on recently. And reading Jenn's post made me so happy - it's always nice to know the things you put effort into matter to someone else.
I really do love Magazines - July 8, 2008
My love affair with magazines began at an early age. I was one of those kids who always had a subscription - Highlights, National Geographic Kids, Scholastic something or other and then the infamous Cricket and later, Cicada magazines (fabulous writing like The New Yorker, but for kids). It was the only way for my Dad to keep up with my book a day reading habit (magazines are far cheaper).
Today on the bus I was reading my first issue of Entrepreneur. I had picked-it up at the airport on my way to DR (my guilty pleasure while I travel -blow $20 on magazines at the newstand). Traveling is my opportunity to test drive something new - see what is worth getting a subscription too. The selection of Entrepreneur was inspired by my sister-in-law and her very strong conviction that owning a business is the only way to financial security, the perfect home-life balance and wealth.
The amazing thing about magazines are the many topics covered within just a few pages. I feel like a travel agent after flipping through Budget Travel, a health & wellness professional after reading Self and a financial consultant after finishing Kiplinger's Personal Finance.
I really do love magazines.
Today on the bus I was reading my first issue of Entrepreneur. I had picked-it up at the airport on my way to DR (my guilty pleasure while I travel -blow $20 on magazines at the newstand). Traveling is my opportunity to test drive something new - see what is worth getting a subscription too. The selection of Entrepreneur was inspired by my sister-in-law and her very strong conviction that owning a business is the only way to financial security, the perfect home-life balance and wealth.
The amazing thing about magazines are the many topics covered within just a few pages. I feel like a travel agent after flipping through Budget Travel, a health & wellness professional after reading Self and a financial consultant after finishing Kiplinger's Personal Finance.
I really do love magazines.
Perspective - Monday, July 7, 2008
Demian is going to PennState Hazleton tomorrow for his first visit. He has some errands to run - computer log-in and ID, the search for part-time job prospects, checking out the dorm room and in general, getting to know his new home.
I am excited for him and a little anxious. I know that the transition from life as a hevito in DR to a hard-working, broke college student will be difficult for him. And I hope his first impressions of Hazelton are good ones, I hope he can see himself there and see himself happy there.
Unfortunately my mother has insisted on going with him. Something about proving to him that her blindness doesn't disqualify her from the visit, etc., etc. The thing about my mom is that each and every situation, no matter what it is, is about her. So Demian's desire to go without her is not about him needing to discover this new place on his own, or about him learning to navigate the campus and speak to the different offices without a pushy mom in the background. It's about her blindness, and Demian's suppossed need for therapy to accept her blindness.
When she first got sick, it was difficult for me to do what I needed to do for her. She and I barely spoke - my feelings of resentment and the low self-esteem that I suffered as a result of always being a terrible daughter clouded any feeling of affection I could have had towards her. But I sucked it up - I did my best to be there for her and take care of her. I made sure to call her every day and visit as often as possible. And as time passed, I just accepted that mom was all about mom and I had to get over it.
But recently, my ability to overlook this fundamental flaw in her has been more and more difficult to come by. I recently got married and am thinking of starting a family with my husband. The depression I sometimes suffer through is no longer just my problem - it is something that affects my husband, something that he has to deal with and work through. And I worry about being the kind of parent my mother was - I worry that I will be too caught up in myself and my own struggles to provide the sort of support my kids need, I worry that I will make my children feel guilty and responsible for any problems I might have, as my mom did.
Today's happy moment was that after a short but heated conversation with mom, and the residual passing and ranting and fears that always come after such conversations, Mike assured me that I would be a wonderful mother.
And now my mom is crossing something of a line. She's doing everything in her power to maintain a tight grip on Demian. On Saturday she gave me a dissertation on what a terrible person he is and how he left the states as Demian and has come back as a little version of Amos (my father). She's doing it all over again. She always hated, resented the feelings I had for my father and she held it against me, threw it in my face, every chance she got. I was being a disloyal and disobediant daughter to her merely in existing. And now Demian is too.
It breaks my heart to watch her do that to him and enrages me all at once. It offends the feeling of protection I have for him. Didn't I go through all of that krap so he wouldn't have to? ...and my unending desire for my mom to just let the past go and be happy. But she is stuck in her ways, and maybe it's her guilt trips and bagdering that help her get through the day, help her feel in control.
Mike helps put all of these feelings in perspective though. I can't change her, only do my best to advise. I can't be in New Jersey to moderate, only call Demian and support him, remind him that his time there will not last forever. And I'm no good to either of them if I spend my time driving myself crazy about what I can't do.
I am excited for him and a little anxious. I know that the transition from life as a hevito in DR to a hard-working, broke college student will be difficult for him. And I hope his first impressions of Hazelton are good ones, I hope he can see himself there and see himself happy there.
Unfortunately my mother has insisted on going with him. Something about proving to him that her blindness doesn't disqualify her from the visit, etc., etc. The thing about my mom is that each and every situation, no matter what it is, is about her. So Demian's desire to go without her is not about him needing to discover this new place on his own, or about him learning to navigate the campus and speak to the different offices without a pushy mom in the background. It's about her blindness, and Demian's suppossed need for therapy to accept her blindness.
When she first got sick, it was difficult for me to do what I needed to do for her. She and I barely spoke - my feelings of resentment and the low self-esteem that I suffered as a result of always being a terrible daughter clouded any feeling of affection I could have had towards her. But I sucked it up - I did my best to be there for her and take care of her. I made sure to call her every day and visit as often as possible. And as time passed, I just accepted that mom was all about mom and I had to get over it.
But recently, my ability to overlook this fundamental flaw in her has been more and more difficult to come by. I recently got married and am thinking of starting a family with my husband. The depression I sometimes suffer through is no longer just my problem - it is something that affects my husband, something that he has to deal with and work through. And I worry about being the kind of parent my mother was - I worry that I will be too caught up in myself and my own struggles to provide the sort of support my kids need, I worry that I will make my children feel guilty and responsible for any problems I might have, as my mom did.
Today's happy moment was that after a short but heated conversation with mom, and the residual passing and ranting and fears that always come after such conversations, Mike assured me that I would be a wonderful mother.
And now my mom is crossing something of a line. She's doing everything in her power to maintain a tight grip on Demian. On Saturday she gave me a dissertation on what a terrible person he is and how he left the states as Demian and has come back as a little version of Amos (my father). She's doing it all over again. She always hated, resented the feelings I had for my father and she held it against me, threw it in my face, every chance she got. I was being a disloyal and disobediant daughter to her merely in existing. And now Demian is too.
It breaks my heart to watch her do that to him and enrages me all at once. It offends the feeling of protection I have for him. Didn't I go through all of that krap so he wouldn't have to? ...and my unending desire for my mom to just let the past go and be happy. But she is stuck in her ways, and maybe it's her guilt trips and bagdering that help her get through the day, help her feel in control.
Mike helps put all of these feelings in perspective though. I can't change her, only do my best to advise. I can't be in New Jersey to moderate, only call Demian and support him, remind him that his time there will not last forever. And I'm no good to either of them if I spend my time driving myself crazy about what I can't do.
Monday, July 7, 2008
BBQ - 4th of July Weekend
We had our first BBQ this weekend. I really was exhausted - emotionally and physically. I still hadn't quite recovered from my previous weekend's travels and honestly, was not in the right mood to have a house full of people.
But I think despite that, everyone had a good time and the food was good (always the case at the Fuller II house). And this time, I barely did any cooking. I made a GIANT (yes, GIANT) bowl of potato salad (that we're still eating from) and mixed some sangria blanca (we're addicted) and everything else was done by Mike and
family. I can't event explain the relief - I had no energy for slaving away in the kitchen.
But enough about my lack of energy (about which I could probably blog each and every day) and onto the weekend's happy moment.
I shouldn't really say "we" had our first BBQ. Unlike past events at Casa Fuller, this was definitely Mike's BBQ. Leading up to the event, he bought a BBQ (thank you State of Florida employees for the Home Depot gift certificate!) and anxiously ran through the grocery store overpurchasing meat, bread, condiments and desserts. He absolutely wanted to ensure that we had enough of everything.
Then, the first lighting of the grill....playing with the coals, waiting for them, until they are perfect.....camping chairs set-up outside....a beer....and finally - the meat is put on the grill!
Three courses later (sausages and hot dogs, then burgers, grand finale - chicken!) the BBQ is a resounding success. Nothing is burned, bellies are full and my husband has proven himself an adept BBQer! He was quietly proud, pleased and impressed with himself. It was too cute - like a right of passage for him I think. Something close to my fried-chicken experience.
But I think despite that, everyone had a good time and the food was good (always the case at the Fuller II house). And this time, I barely did any cooking. I made a GIANT (yes, GIANT) bowl of potato salad (that we're still eating from) and mixed some sangria blanca (we're addicted) and everything else was done by Mike and
family. I can't event explain the relief - I had no energy for slaving away in the kitchen.
But enough about my lack of energy (about which I could probably blog each and every day) and onto the weekend's happy moment.
I shouldn't really say "we" had our first BBQ. Unlike past events at Casa Fuller, this was definitely Mike's BBQ. Leading up to the event, he bought a BBQ (thank you State of Florida employees for the Home Depot gift certificate!) and anxiously ran through the grocery store overpurchasing meat, bread, condiments and desserts. He absolutely wanted to ensure that we had enough of everything.
Then, the first lighting of the grill....playing with the coals, waiting for them, until they are perfect.....camping chairs set-up outside....a beer....and finally - the meat is put on the grill!
Three courses later (sausages and hot dogs, then burgers, grand finale - chicken!) the BBQ is a resounding success. Nothing is burned, bellies are full and my husband has proven himself an adept BBQer! He was quietly proud, pleased and impressed with himself. It was too cute - like a right of passage for him I think. Something close to my fried-chicken experience.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Recovering - Thursday, July 3, 2008
It's been a very difficult week. I always feel like I leave a part of myself behind in Santo Domingo. The babies are so small and every time I see them, they are new people! My Dad, he is going through it, in more ways than one. And I can't help but feel that he doesn't have enough people to talk to, enough support to help him get through the days. And Demian, oh Demian, he needs more than what Mom and Dad are providing. They are both so wrapped up in their troubles - rightfully so as they both have fairly serious troubles - but it seems like he's getting the short end of the stick.
On top of that, I got paid on Monday and had a financial meltdown on Wednesday, overwhelmed by my many commitments, wants and needs and the utter sense of impotence that I felt in realizing I absolutely did not have the means to come near fulfilling all of those things. This is becoming a monthly occurrence and something I need to find my way out of - both mentally and financially.
So the past two days haven't really been blog-worthy but I feel like today, things are getting better.
I didn't require 3 cups of coffee as I did on Tuesday and Wednesday.
My day began with a call from my sister-in-law - convinced that entrepreneurship is the only way to success, she has asked me to go into some consulting with her. I'm definitely a fan of projects and looking forward to where this one will go.
My sister-in-law Adriane and her son, Lion
I got to work before 9 AM for the first time since transitioning my commute from the car to the bus (gas is a bitch).
And, I was actually productive today at work - I was an animal, shooting off emails left and right, responding to old inquiries, catching up on my time away and the past few days that I'd spent in a daze. It was reminiscent of my most productive days at work (which have been few and far between the past few months). And it felt good, it felt good to know I was earning my salary, doing everything that was expected of me.
And later in the day, as if Anthony (our Founder & Chairman) had seen exactly how hard I was working, we get a Staff Appreciation email. The office will be closed all-day Monday and Tuesday until noon. Our mileage reimbursement has been increased by almost ten cents a mile! And, the jackpot, we will be implementing summer hours, working from home on Wednesdays is an option from now through Labor Day (if you're supervisor approves - but still an option nonetheless.
On top of that, I got paid on Monday and had a financial meltdown on Wednesday, overwhelmed by my many commitments, wants and needs and the utter sense of impotence that I felt in realizing I absolutely did not have the means to come near fulfilling all of those things. This is becoming a monthly occurrence and something I need to find my way out of - both mentally and financially.
So the past two days haven't really been blog-worthy but I feel like today, things are getting better.
I didn't require 3 cups of coffee as I did on Tuesday and Wednesday.
My day began with a call from my sister-in-law - convinced that entrepreneurship is the only way to success, she has asked me to go into some consulting with her. I'm definitely a fan of projects and looking forward to where this one will go.
My sister-in-law Adriane and her son, Lion
I got to work before 9 AM for the first time since transitioning my commute from the car to the bus (gas is a bitch).
And, I was actually productive today at work - I was an animal, shooting off emails left and right, responding to old inquiries, catching up on my time away and the past few days that I'd spent in a daze. It was reminiscent of my most productive days at work (which have been few and far between the past few months). And it felt good, it felt good to know I was earning my salary, doing everything that was expected of me.
And later in the day, as if Anthony (our Founder & Chairman) had seen exactly how hard I was working, we get a Staff Appreciation email. The office will be closed all-day Monday and Tuesday until noon. Our mileage reimbursement has been increased by almost ten cents a mile! And, the jackpot, we will be implementing summer hours, working from home on Wednesdays is an option from now through Labor Day (if you're supervisor approves - but still an option nonetheless.
Home - Monday, June 30, 2008
I came home on Monday! Mike picked me up and took me too....drumroll please....Chipotle!! I mean, that is some serious love - I LOVE Chipotle!
And as much as I always feel like a part of me has been left behind in DR, it was good to be home.
And as much as I always feel like a part of me has been left behind in DR, it was good to be home.
Married Life Has Agreed with Me - Sunday, July 29, 2008
On Sunday we made the rounds - obligatory family visits - which I always enjoy. There is the constant flow of Presidente as my uncles and Dad catch-up, we all stare at the babies in awe of all that they can do and how big they've gotten, catch each other up on family news and share stories of the funny things we've seen or heard in the last few days.
On this trip, I was full of awe as all of my baby cousins were now twice as big as they were the last time I saw them and couldn't even be called babies anymore. At each visit I was overwhelmed with how fast time seems to fly and the nostalgia of my teenage and college years when visits to DR happened at least three times a year and never for just a few days as they are now.
But back to the happy thoughts. My cousin Morena was at my uncles house (her Dad). I hadn't seen her in ages. The last time we spoke her son Omar was 5, now he's going into the 5th grade! And she has another little one! She raved about how mature I looked - how she could tell that marriage was doing me good and it just made me look beautiful. I thanked her, with a big ear to ear smile plastered on my face thinking back to my hubby and how much I really did enjoy being married to him. As I giggled and absorbed my praise, my aunt Carla raved behind me about how big and strong and elegante Mike was - and those beautiful eyes.
I've seen a definite change since marrying Mike - I wear make-up now, and think twice before leaving the house in sweats, the bags under my eyes are lighter - not so severe, and it now seems easier to smile - it doesn't require all the effort it used too, the effort to appear to be having a good time while always feeling a little off.
But let me tell you, as good as if feels to notice the change and improvement in myself, the feeling of someone else, someone who's known me forever, spontaneously recognizing that improvement really was phenomenal. And I hope, a testament to how right we really are for each other.
On this trip, I was full of awe as all of my baby cousins were now twice as big as they were the last time I saw them and couldn't even be called babies anymore. At each visit I was overwhelmed with how fast time seems to fly and the nostalgia of my teenage and college years when visits to DR happened at least three times a year and never for just a few days as they are now.
But back to the happy thoughts. My cousin Morena was at my uncles house (her Dad). I hadn't seen her in ages. The last time we spoke her son Omar was 5, now he's going into the 5th grade! And she has another little one! She raved about how mature I looked - how she could tell that marriage was doing me good and it just made me look beautiful. I thanked her, with a big ear to ear smile plastered on my face thinking back to my hubby and how much I really did enjoy being married to him. As I giggled and absorbed my praise, my aunt Carla raved behind me about how big and strong and elegante Mike was - and those beautiful eyes.
I've seen a definite change since marrying Mike - I wear make-up now, and think twice before leaving the house in sweats, the bags under my eyes are lighter - not so severe, and it now seems easier to smile - it doesn't require all the effort it used too, the effort to appear to be having a good time while always feeling a little off.
But let me tell you, as good as if feels to notice the change and improvement in myself, the feeling of someone else, someone who's known me forever, spontaneously recognizing that improvement really was phenomenal. And I hope, a testament to how right we really are for each other.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Graduation - Friday, June 27, 2008
My little brother graduated from high school today and I had the honor of escorting him across the stage with my father. In my old age, I've become such a sap. I was close to tears for most of the graduation but held it together for fear of feeling an old lady.
Demian sat up on stage whispering among his friends while the announcer ran through the graduation precedings. As they were called to the stage, each student was regalled with what their classmates thought of them - Demian was known for his jokes and happiness, you can't be sad around him and he's a great soccer star. The class giggled and cheered for him (nope, not every graduate got that). His best friend Arturo graduated and he was class President. His girlfriend Anabel came up and she was Senorita Fashion, America's Next Top Model.
Then a slideshow went across the stage and there was Demian, front and center in every other photo.
And I was just really shocked. When Demian lived in NJ, he was afraid of everything. He was afraid of gettig lost, afraid of animals, almost afraid to talk. He had a small group of two or three friends and was unsuccessfully struggling to find his own personality under the iron fist of my mom. I was safely behind enemy lines with my Dad which meant Demian was left to struggle against the oppression alone (yes, I harbor guilt).
That was only three years ago. And now here he was, best friends with the class president, basically voted most popular kid in school, in love with the most beautiful girl in school and more confident in himself than I ever thought he could be. A very proud sister was I.
Best Friend and Best Sister at the after party - organized of course my Demian & Company.
Loyal friends and followers who escorted Demian to the airport - the one to the right is the girlfriend - Anabel.
Generosity - Thursday, June 26th
My flight on Wednesday was suppossed to take off at 6:30 PM. So on Tuesday, I ask my boss if I can work from home on Wednesday so I can put in my hours and avoid the back and forth - home, work, home, airport. And I give him this whole story about how I can't get my suitcases on the bus because they're so big - and it was legitimate. Not that I couldn't possibly have worked it out, but it seemed like so much unnecessary work. So after some eye-rolling and questions, he approves. And I was so productive in my day at home. I really don't know what I would have done without that day.
So I spend my day running between my computer, my suitcases and the bathroom in preperation for SuperShuttle's 3 PM arrival. I check my bags and am waiting for the plane by 4:30 PM. Such good timing. A wonderful start to my trip home.
At 5 PM, they announce that the flight may be cancelled - technical difficulties - please hold until 8 PM. 8 PM arrives and the flight will be taking off at 9:30 PM - cheers of joy. We board the plane at 9 PM and sit there for over an hour! None of the airline staff feel the need to tell us what the hell is going on. So the Vice President of the Dominican Republic (yes, he was on the plane), gets off. Followed by a dozen or so passengers. And finally, when they see this, the captain says the problem on the plane isn't fixed. We'd all have to exit the plane while they fixed it - it would take 2 hours. Pa que fue eso? The entire plane was in chaos - cursing, sucking of teeth and crying children.
So we do as we're told becuase what's a plane that doesn't work? And no one at the agent counter wants to speak to us. They are waving people off and rolling their eyes - as if it's our fault that at 10 o'clock (2 hours after we should have landed in DR), we were still in the same spot.
New announcement - the flight will be taking off at 11:40 pm from the other side of the airport. More uproar! And screams for food vouchers. Food vouchers can be found at the opposite gate. So we all trudge over to the other side of the airport - like sheep. Arriving at the other gate, more cries for food vouchers. Some requests for luggage to be removed from the plane and some people stomping off to take their cabs home. And another ticket agent who doesn't have the decency to treat exhausted people who have now been delayed almost six hours with some respect and answer their questions. (Yes, the arline has heard all about him.)
We are then told that food vouchers will not be given because it's too late - does that make any sense? I haven't had anything to eat since 2 PM when I left my house and because of you, I'm still in the airport, so the logicial thing is that I'm there too late to get food. As if I've watched all my possible flights fly away and chosen to remain at MIA - the coolest place on earth.
I mustered up $15 and bought a sandwich and a beer in the hopes that it would soothe my anger and make me sleepy. But there were so many mothers traveling alone with children. They'd had mutliple connections all day and NEEDED the food vouchers - it easily costs $10 to feed someonne at the airport - and if you've already bought 4 plane tickets and spent the day traveling, it's very possible that you just don't have $40 to spend on food.
Well a very generous passenger took it upon himself to buy out the cuban stand that was still open. He bought 50 sadwiches (yes, $500 in sandwiches) and had the (very rude and useless) airline clerk announce that food was available for any hungry children or families. I was amazed that after such a horrible day and such mistreatment, he was able to find the energy and generosity to fix it for so many of us.
It definitely gave me that warm and fuzzy feeling. And helped me refocus my mind from how angry and furstrated I was to the blessings:
- my boss did agree to let me work from home
- I was on my way to the Dominican Republic - despite my brokeness - to enjoy time with my family
- I had $15 to buy some food
- And when I finally did get to the airport at 3:45 am - my Dad was there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to pick me up (other passengers were not so lucky)
So I spend my day running between my computer, my suitcases and the bathroom in preperation for SuperShuttle's 3 PM arrival. I check my bags and am waiting for the plane by 4:30 PM. Such good timing. A wonderful start to my trip home.
At 5 PM, they announce that the flight may be cancelled - technical difficulties - please hold until 8 PM. 8 PM arrives and the flight will be taking off at 9:30 PM - cheers of joy. We board the plane at 9 PM and sit there for over an hour! None of the airline staff feel the need to tell us what the hell is going on. So the Vice President of the Dominican Republic (yes, he was on the plane), gets off. Followed by a dozen or so passengers. And finally, when they see this, the captain says the problem on the plane isn't fixed. We'd all have to exit the plane while they fixed it - it would take 2 hours. Pa que fue eso? The entire plane was in chaos - cursing, sucking of teeth and crying children.
So we do as we're told becuase what's a plane that doesn't work? And no one at the agent counter wants to speak to us. They are waving people off and rolling their eyes - as if it's our fault that at 10 o'clock (2 hours after we should have landed in DR), we were still in the same spot.
New announcement - the flight will be taking off at 11:40 pm from the other side of the airport. More uproar! And screams for food vouchers. Food vouchers can be found at the opposite gate. So we all trudge over to the other side of the airport - like sheep. Arriving at the other gate, more cries for food vouchers. Some requests for luggage to be removed from the plane and some people stomping off to take their cabs home. And another ticket agent who doesn't have the decency to treat exhausted people who have now been delayed almost six hours with some respect and answer their questions. (Yes, the arline has heard all about him.)
We are then told that food vouchers will not be given because it's too late - does that make any sense? I haven't had anything to eat since 2 PM when I left my house and because of you, I'm still in the airport, so the logicial thing is that I'm there too late to get food. As if I've watched all my possible flights fly away and chosen to remain at MIA - the coolest place on earth.
I mustered up $15 and bought a sandwich and a beer in the hopes that it would soothe my anger and make me sleepy. But there were so many mothers traveling alone with children. They'd had mutliple connections all day and NEEDED the food vouchers - it easily costs $10 to feed someonne at the airport - and if you've already bought 4 plane tickets and spent the day traveling, it's very possible that you just don't have $40 to spend on food.
Well a very generous passenger took it upon himself to buy out the cuban stand that was still open. He bought 50 sadwiches (yes, $500 in sandwiches) and had the (very rude and useless) airline clerk announce that food was available for any hungry children or families. I was amazed that after such a horrible day and such mistreatment, he was able to find the energy and generosity to fix it for so many of us.
It definitely gave me that warm and fuzzy feeling. And helped me refocus my mind from how angry and furstrated I was to the blessings:
- my boss did agree to let me work from home
- I was on my way to the Dominican Republic - despite my brokeness - to enjoy time with my family
- I had $15 to buy some food
- And when I finally did get to the airport at 3:45 am - my Dad was there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to pick me up (other passengers were not so lucky)
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