…these totally geeked-out necklaces! Daily Candy featured them this morning, and already I’m in love. Choose from gold or silver, @ or hashtag. I think that @elizabethbake will make its debut on either my neck or my wrist in the new year. Woo hoo!
Monthly Archives: December 2009
So now that I’ve recapped an entire decade…
…Let’s move forward to the next one. Last year I did un-resolutions, or what I would not do in 2009. Shall we review?
1. I resolved not to take things personally this past year. I failed miserably.
2. I resolved not to get mired down in bullshit. Also failed miserably.
3. I can’t remember the rest.
New Year’s resolutions annoy me in about 19 different ways, but mostly because, according to various media, they have to do with health, dieting, exercising and the like. Seriously, sit down for a half hour and count the number of television commercials you see for Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, Bally Fitness, Alli, the smoking cessation plans, BLAH BLAH BLAH. When did we lose focus on what a new year is all about? (A clean slate, in my opinion.) I’m thinking, oh, forever ago.
I have goals for 2010. I have far fewer plans for 2010 than I did for this past year. To me, resolving to do something, or planning to accomplish a certain number of things, is merely setting yourself up for failure. And then you turn around at the end of yet another year and all you have to show for it is what you didn’t do as opposed to what you did.
In 2009, the things I accomplished that I’m very proud of are few, but important to me. First of all, I took the personally challenging step of getting myself some good, qualified, non-nutty help for my panic disorder. I’ll say this again – and again and again – it’s one long-ass road. Over Christmas I was out for break, and I missed a few doses of one of my wonderfully fabulous medications. The same day I got the nasty stomach virus that completely sidelined me for the holidays is the same day my brain went FRUITBAT, NUTBUCKET CRAZY. After a lengthy conversation with my pharmacist and one psycho phone call to GlaxoSmithKline, I discovered that my uncontrollable crying was not, in fact, due to my impending nervous breakdown. Instead it was a lesson that I should not miss doses for ANY REASON WHATSOEVER, otherwise I will be subject to psycho episodes that scare my husband. What was my point? Oh yes, I went to the doctor. Yay me.
Second of all, I’m proud that I got my ass up and off the computer for a little while, and reentered the society in which I live. Many bloggers I know spend all day EVERY SINGLE SOLITARY day whipping their blogs into tip top shape, adding features and then subtracting them, designing mastheads, changing formats, writing content that is of-the-moment and, frankly, a little non-relevant after a few weeks. Maybe they’ll wind up being Dooce 2.0, or maybe they’ll produce something groundbreaking and get a six-figure book deal. In which case, good for them. For me, I love this space, I really do. I love writing for it, I love reading what you all think, and to me, my readers are my friends. My site is basic, boring even, and lacks a lot of what a basic blog should have. But I’m not a flashy kind of girl. I have grand plans for what I’d like this blog to become (I’ve been talking about this “redesign” for months now, but I’m not yet happy with anything we’ve come up with) but I’m not impatient for it to happen. I have a full-time job already, and I have friends, real-live ones that live down the street, that I need to see more often. It’s good for me.
I’m also proud of myself for getting thisclose to graduating school. My master’s degree has been a long time coming, good God a REAL REAL LONG TIME, and I’m almost done. It’s quite a big deal for me, the procrastinator extraordinaire, to finish anything, and to almost finish something is almost as big a deal. Maybe I’ll graduate in 2010, maybe I won’t. I’m okay with either outcome, which is also new and different to me.
I do have goals for 2010. I’m not going to list them, purposely, because I don’t want to look back next year on December 30th and think, Damn, I’m a slacker YET AGAIN this year. I tend to do things like that.
A couple of calendar events on the schedule for next year are a blogging conference in February (holla Blissdom!) if it’s not sold out already, my ten-year college reunion in May, and at some point heading to Louisiana, invited or not, to see Baby Girl Beets wearing her Dooce onesie. (Oh, come on, like you could resist it either.) You should plan to see more of me here in 2010, more of me on Twitter, and perhaps an increased presence around town, should you live near me. YOU’RE WELCOME.
What about y’all? Are you resolving, un-resolving, planning or scheduling? Or none of the above?
10 years in 10 minutes (or less)
If there were ever a time for lists, I think this would be it.
2000:
I ring in the new millennium with my “best friend” in DC.
We graduate college in May, I start my first job June 1.
I report the stories, the breaking news, but mostly the boring features.
I go to LA, interview hometown boy working on hit show “Survivor.”
I spend most afternoons with my grandparents, glad to have time with them.
I make new friends, try new drinks, live at home with my parents, trying new rules.
2001:
12:01, New Year’s Day. I lose my Nana, the first love of my life.
I spend more and more time with my grandfather, less and less time caring about reporting.
June 1, last day of work. Off to Europe with old friend, new again, to find myself. (Finding myself apparently means collecting designer handbags and drinking my way through 8 countries.)
August, home from Europe, no jobs to be found, must toil away in retail again.
Labor Day, I meet the second love of my life.
September 11th, the towers fall on what would have been my Nana’s birthday. My friends flee New York. I flee to my boyfriend’s apartment. Still living at home, still breaking unspoken rules.
October 28th, I kiss my grandfather goodbye, promise to make “that boy” be good to me, and tell him I love him for the last time.
One year, two devastating losses. Still crying, even now.
2002:
No work in retail, no work at all. Boyfriend thinks I make bad job decisions, parents think I make bad life decisions. Smoking nearly a pack a day, living on the sex diet. Maybe they’re all right.
February, the bottom falls out. Broke, in horrific debt, ashamed of myself. Get back to work in retail and suck it up, for now.
Spend the summer at the beach, soaking up the sun and all the Coronas I can hold.
October 28th, one year since losing one wonderful man. Another wonderful man has mercy on me, hires me despite my inexperience and a new life begins.
2003:
Atlanta, MLK weekend. Panic attacks resurface as old friend gets married, start looking at engagement rings for myself. Hard to believe, harder not to believe.
February, “best friend” embarrasses me in front of my family, devastates me by going after my almost-fiancé.
Valentine’s Day: I say yes! We set the date for a year and a half later.
Finally I put my big-girl panties on and move out. Live exactly one year with my new best friend. Both of them.
Summer spent at the beach, making wedding plans, attending friends’ weddings, thinking that a wedding is too much trouble.
Fall brings the advent of graduate school. Who knew it would take so long to finish one damn degree? Will 2010 be the year?
2004:
Future father-in-law is getting worse; will the cancer let him make it to our wedding?
Super Bowl Sunday, first night in new house. We are homeowners! The bank is crazy.
Whirlwind spring, wedding coming soon. Parties, dresses, pearls, weekends in DC, thinking that I made the best decision ever – would almost rather marry bridesmaids, they are so wonderful.
May 15th, amidst worst panic attack of my life, I say “I do.” And I mean it. Pure joy overcomes me, only to be thwarted by Mexican sunburn. At least we’ll remember it, we say.
Father’s Day, we celebrate by rescuing Lucy and Charlie, the two new loves of our lives.
Summer at the beach again, only this time Pepsi calls. Long road trips to and from Nags Head, alone in my Honda.
September, the doctors tell us it won’t be long. They are right. Panic gets worse, finally see a doctor myself. Medication to soothe, but it doesn’t work for shit.
October 10th, we lose him. We sit with him as we tell him it’s okay to go. I hold his ankle as I watch my new husband weep next to his father. I continue to touch him as life leaves him. Most heartbreaking moment of my life.
Christmas comes, our hearts are heavy. Not sure we can celebrate.
2005:
Long hours at Pepsi, long nights alone for me. More trips alone to the beach, this time to comfort grieving mother-in-law.
Trying to settle in, this new marriage thing so difficult. Friends are having babies now, we decide it could be for us, too.
Five year reunion at Sweet Briar, can’t believe it’s been that long since I’ve seen these girls. Next five will surely go slower.
Summer brings me a new co-worker, thankful for a kindred spirit who doesn’t instill panic. At the beach yet again, bringing friends becoming a tradition.
Happy 1st birthday, Lucy and Charlie! Your party is a hit and quickly becomes the talk of the town. Who knew a birthday party for two cats would turn out such a crowd?
Fall brings with it World War 3 featuring my in-laws. If marriage is this hard, I’m not sure I want to do it. I do, however, want to show off the new Volvo.
At Christmas, we are estranged from one side of the family. We refuse to mend fences; by “we,” I mean me.
2006:
I start grad school again. I join the Episcopal Church. Getting confirmed breaks the ice, sister-in-law is speaking again.
Teaching is my second job, though I think I want it to be my first. Banner year at work, moving into new offices, helping new students, keeps my mind off other things.
Summer at the beach for the last time?
We throw my parents a 30th anniversary party, my “debut” on the party circuit in town. It’s a hit, my mother sends me a thank-you plant. Haven’t killed it…yet.
10 year high school reunion, but I don’t go. Too busy, too self-involved, too panicked?
Weekend trips here and there, feel like I’m forgetting something. Oh yes, World War 4 at Thanksgiving.
Another holiday of not speaking. 2006 isn’t very memorable, unless you count the visits from girlfriends, and I do.
2007:
Beach house is sold, we spend Spring Break in the snow.
Another banner year at work, but not so much at Pepsi. He makes a move, one town to another, we hope for better days.
Friends still getting married, friends still having babies. Showers for this, showers for that, where is my money?
This summer we crowd into a beach house with three other families; too many children, too many days, too little air conditioning. We are grateful for vacation being over.
Fall Break and we head to the mountains. Blog life is born! I call it “The New Adventures of the Ol’ Bakers” and post pictures of our trips.
Plans begin for my 30th year – 2008 is MINE, I say!
2008:
School year is half over, is graduation on the horizon? We are both in school now, he for his MBA. We are “smart” and “ambitious,” we tell ourselves. Really, we are poor as church mice and nerdily stay home on the weekends.
Scrape together some money and force my three friends to join me on a cruise to the Bahamas. Excuse is that it’s an early 30th birthday gift. Sure. Cruise is magnificent, at least to some. Fab Four moniker is born.
More beach trips, this time tagging along with friends. Spend part of August in Hilton Head, get back just in time for Clues to begin. (Read the archives if you really want to know.)
September 15th, black balloons at work. Recovering from surprise party weekend – best party of my life, have mother and husband to thank.
New Orleans to see one of my bestest get married, catch up with another bestest, making it through an entire weekend of traveling alone without a panic attack.
Birthdays continue into October and December, with 80s costumes, more surprise parties and not so much focus on school. Cousin gets engaged, Egyptians are here, throw a New Year’s party for less than a few people.
2009:
This year will be quieter, we say. The economy will make us stay home, save our money. We borrow from Peter to pay tuition, life savings slipping through our hands.
Six months into “Half Baked, Twice as Good.” Making new friends in the blogosphere, realizing that this little side project could be my calling. For real?
No vacations this year, no fun to be had, we think. Vandals break into our beloved farm, we have oyster roast to retaliate.
Cousin is married in April, bringing entire family together for a fun weekend. Drink too much, reveal long lost hidden secrets. Ramifications? Not yet.
June, I am robbed at work for the second time in a year. Panic is back, so bad I can barely leave the house. Work is a monster, I am frightened by everything.
July, blog is thriving. Panic is worse. Is there a correlation? Head to family vacation with the in-laws for over a week; magically, it is painless. MIL’s new boyfriend to thank?
Birthday comes and goes, unable to enjoy it – my favorite holiday – because of panic. Two shocking deaths, two beautifully sad funerals. Therapist sends me to specialist, finally. Blood pressure sky high, newly-minted nurse scares me to death. Almost.
New meds, new day. At first. Long road, I am told. Work gets better, mostly because holiday vacations are up next. Thanksgiving a success, thanks to doctors and lots upon lots of medication.
More parties this fall, join Cotillion, head out into society, again have meds to thank.
Uncle gets worse, breaks our hearts, we prepare ourselves. Sickness sidelines us at Christmas, we have new name for New Year’s: Peace the Fuck Out Already, 2009. The “Aughts” are over, almost a decade as one-half of a couple.
Ten hardest years of my life, wouldn’t trade them for the world. Unless the next ten are better.
Check out Anna, the original list maker.
A holiday wish from me to you
This picture was taken at our farm over Thanksgiving (last year, but shhhh, don’t tell). I drafted this card but sent another one to family, which means this one is just for you! You’re welcome. And have a great holiday season.
Bragging Rights
Okay, Internet. If Brian gets on here and reads this he’s going to either be a) mad that I shared this with you, or b) really happy that I’m so proud of him. At the risk of sounding a little hypocritical (you know, after my High Maintenance post the other day), I really am proud of my husband. He makes me nuts a lot of the time, but he is so smart, so responsible, so put-together, so completely opposite of me that we just work. Can’t explain it, just is.
Brian has been actively pursuing an MBA for a couple of years now. In both our graduate school cases, we decided to take three courses first before officially applying to our programs of choice. The advantages to that are that we can get a good idea of what the programs are like, get to know the faculty a bit, and have professor recommendations when we actually do decide to officially apply. The other thing you have to have is a certain score on either the GMAT or the GRE, depending upon which program you enter.
I’m a fairly decent test-taker, or as I like to call it – guesser – but BB gets super stressed out and has quite a bit of test anxiety. Consequently, he’s had to take the GMAT several times, along with some test-prep classes to help him get a grasp on the material. Every time he studies for that thing, I look at his notes and I’m all Are you kidding me? That’s MATH? Looks like a bunch of doctor scribbles to me, if you want to know the truth.
In reality, Brian is super smart and has taken to these classes like a fish to water. Something about that GMAT though, just gets him every time. So yesterday afternoon he headed off to Raleigh for the third and final time to just make damn sure he gave that GMAT all he had. Internet, it was 3 1/2 hours of hell and…
HE PASSED!
He needed a certain score to guarantee him admission to his MBA program and he got it, plus some. I could not have been more excited if I tried, I swear to you. I called my mama, his mama, my aunt, my best friend, everyone that knew he was trying and we all squealed together because finally, finally he relaxed enough, believed in himself enough and had the courage enough to prove to himself what we have known all along: that he could do it.
And y’all, that’s all the Christmas I need right there.
