Tag Archives: personal

A Sixth-Grader’s Nightmare: Christmas Edition

6 Dec

709fd2be62450971e334b29ee4c7f54aMortified. Horrified. Petrified.

I used to flip through teen magazines to the back section, a place where girls would write in to share their most distressing personal tales of embarrassing mishaps. “It was mortifying!!!” said every girl ever.

How awful! That would never happen to me, I thought. And as I chuckled over their misfortunes, in the back of my mind, I prayed that similar events would never happen to me.

Wrong.

It was my sixth-grade year. Instead of a traditional Christmas chorus concert, the entire grade put on the play The Runaway Snowman. Four kids would lead the production while the rest of the grade chimed in as the choir. I was one of those lucky few selected to fill one of the acting/singing parts.

This is it, I thought. People will recognize me, my talent, what I can bring to the table. As a sixth grader, I was consumed with the ideas of popularity, fitting in and standing out (go figure). And without athletic talent, this was an arena that I could perhaps shine in somehow.

So after many practices, our class was ready to present the show to our parents. It was a Friday afternoon and I spent the entire school day beaming. I was a star, I was brimming with absolute joy and excitement. My fellow cast mates and I were let out of class early to prepare for the production. A band director’s office was our costume slash prop room, and we had carefully laid out our clothes and makeup ahead of time.

After the lead character, the snowman, had put on his ensemble and headed out the door, I prepared to put on a dark blue jumper dress and a pair of my mother’s high heels. Not only was I playing the part of an adult woman, I would look the part. Absolutely stunning. There was a boy in the choir that I had been crushing on hard core. I kept thinking with the blush, lipstick and outfit (forget the thick glasses, buck teeth and braces), it would be hard to not take notice of me on stage.

And standing with just my Pocahontas underwear on (I was changing from my sports bra to a training bra), it happened. The door opened. And not one, or two, but four of my fellow male classmates happened to be standing right there. Wide mouthed.

I didn’t know what to do. How did they get in? Why were they here? What did they see?

I started to scream, “Get out! Get out!” I suddenly crossed my arms against my bare chest, realizing what they had just seen.

And the guys started screaming and running from the door, almost as horrified as I was.

I leaped under the teacher’s desk, crouched, breathing heavily. Was this a dream? It had to be. No way would something this horrible happen – it was too humiliating.

The frightened boys had come into the classroom to get the props for the stage, and I had forgotten to lock the door for privacy.

Something that people have nightmares about just happened to me. A 12-year-old girl just gave some of the cutest boys in school quite a show.

I couldn’t go back out there, even with just 15 minutes until the production would start. It took quite a bit of coaxing from the director to get me to show my face, and the confidence I had displayed earlier (after displaying my assets) was completely out the window.

For months, I couldn’t live it down with students teasing me about the incident. The boys were also unable to make eye contact with me or utter more than two words at a time in my presence.

Honestly, I hadn’t remembered the incident until a few days ago. Repression has most likely hidden many of my middle school slip-ups – especially terrible ones like this one.

After the event, it was difficult to visit that embarrassing moments page in the magazines. Part of the fun was knowing those events couldn’t happen to you. But I now knew for a fact that they could.

And although it was the worst thing that had happened to me at that time of my life, a few years later, I would understand that I could fill a couple pages with horrible moments similar to this one.

So Blessed

5 Nov
This photo was taken by my now sister-in-law Nicole.

This photo was taken by my now sister-in-law Nicole.

Wonderful. Absolutely, spectacularly wonderful. On my flight back to New York City, I can’t think of anything I would change about my weekend in Iowa (except for it to have been longer). I saw many of the people that I love all in one place. I spent time in a beautiful place at a gorgeous time of year. And I married the love of my life.

And while a majority of my time was devoted to the wedding, I was able to savor the pace of life back in Webster City. Trick-or-treating with my one-year-old niece, all dressed up in a donkey costume. Having family meals at my childhood home. Cuddling with my anxiety-ridden kitty Suki. Hiking through Briggs Woods and stopping by the local library.

The wedding was beautiful – at a winery near Ames, with decorations to go with the season. The backdrop to the ceremony was perfect with the ever-changing colors of the tree leaves peering through the glass wall of the reception hall as the sun set.

What I take back from this experience is how truly blessed I am. The amount of love and generosity shown to me by everyone we encountered was astounding. Dear family and friends worked tirelessly to make sure that each detail was accounted for. Tiny snags were quickly mended and everything went seamlessly. My wedding party was everything that I could possibly ask for. If I needed anything at any time during the process, each of my attendants were completely willing to perform each and every task. My matron of honor (also sister) made sure that there was nothing I could even think of that needed to happen that hadn’t already took place. And while each one of us live in different areas of the country, we all shared so much laughter and conversations – it was like nothing had changed between my childhood friends. Our families were just … awesome. My parents, dear lord I tear up thinking of what they had done for me. And seeing all of my family and friends – old and new – all in one place … wow. Even though I wish I could stop at each table and have endless conversations with all that attended, just seeing people, some that I haven’t seen in years, was so great.

And last, but definitely not least, my beautiful husband. From the love poem he read at the ceremony to the laughter we shared over cheap take out in our hotel room near the airport last night – I can’t imagine anyone else that I would want to spend my life with. In all the planning, we spent a lot of time apart. But when we put our wedding clothes on – taking pictures and saying our vows, I kept thinking, “Oh yeah, you. I’m here to marry you. And I am so happy at this very moment.”

The last two days have been exhausting, yet I smile at the thought of all that hoopla and excitement that we were able to share with people we deeply care about. Hopefully someday in the near future, we can be closer to quite a few of them and spend more day-to-day time in their presence. But for now, I am just completely happy and so unbelievably blessed.

Are you nervous? Are you excited?

25 Oct

red-41205_640

There are just a couple more days before my early-morning flight to Iowa. Right now, I have thank-you cards to write and a beauty store trip planned, but other than that my weekend will hopefully be pretty … normal. Well, sort of. Our neighborhood throws an annual Halloween kids’ block party Saturday that we are volunteering at, and we have a reading and pub crawl planned later that night in NYC. Sunday – we will most likely have some friends over for a big vat of chili and some sweet, sweet cinnamon rolls. Oh yeah, I should probably start packing sometime, too.

The problem with being in a different time zone than the wedding event is that I’m pretty removed from it all. Not only from the assembly of constructing the event, but emotionally, as well. Which is hard – mostly on my mom. She has to plan a lot of it on her own, and while I can say what florals and colors I prefer – the bulk of the work has been on her. I’m incredibly grateful for someone in my life with that much motivation to making my day special. But it wasn’t until last month when I flew back for my shower when I saw most of the decorations and table setting fillers. Everything is incredibly hard to picture, even when you have the Skype tool to work with.

Emotionally, I have been going about my normal everyday business, besides having a bit of a to-do list each day for the past month. I go to my 40-hour a week job, watch television, walk around town, grocery shop – the norm. It’s been fun putting together a mixed-CD playlist, going to our Skype pre-marriage counseling, etc., but it seems all a bit surreal still.

I’ve been asked by everyone, “Are you getting excited and/or nervous about your big day?” Um … yes. I mean, I’m normally a heavy sleeper, and this week the slightest sound will bounce me wide awake. Nate needs to get up at 5 a.m. to grade papers, I guess I better get up too! And while I’m excited to see people and celebrate the occasion, but I still can’t wrap my head around the whole concept. I can’t wait to see family and friends, I can’t wait for some snuggling time with my niece, I can’t wait to be in old surroundings that feel so familiar.

When I think about the wedding, I think about this: I love the guy I’m with. I don’t want to be with someone else, and I can’t wait to be more permanently settled and start a family. But we have already started our lives together – living in an apartment, having our weekly date nights, cooking for one another, exploring a new city – for me, it’s confirming our commitment to one another, which is completely exciting for me.

So I have to keep reminding myself that in almost a week, this whole marriage thing goes down. So the answer to the “Are you nervous?” and “Are you excited?” questions? I’m pretty happy, that’s for sure.

 

“The Five Year Engagement” holds truth

23 Oct

Carrie Olson:

Since the whole wedding thing is happening in almost a week, I thought this was definitely worth a reblog.

Originally posted on Girl Of The Corn:

In some ways, a bit too close for comfort.

“We were almost perfect for each other …”

“The Five Year Engagement” is a love story. Violet and Tom, a couple that love one another very much, have grandiose plans to marry. The wedding date keeps moving further back as their lives change. They change. Resentment builds, they start testing each other, and the bond breaks. The question of “what if” lingers, and eventually, they do find their way back and renew the relationship.

It’s beautiful, funny, and incredibly sad. For me, it is a bit depressing and too close for comfort. Not the called-off wedding or premise, but the emotional content that keeps this film so fresh.

I have seen this movie too many times, yet refuse to buy it. Perhaps I don’t want to compare my relationship too much to theirs, as I so often do with other movies…

View original 891 more words

I Heart MST3K

21 Oct

10133_1

I bought a stockpile of “classic” Halloween movies a week ago. Unfortunately, I accidentally shipped them to my parents’ house in Iowa.

So I guess I won’t be seeing them until after the fact. Last year, I was too broke to consider purchasing “The Addams Family” movies, “Hocus Pocus”, “Beetlejuice”, or my sister’s favorite television show “The Munsters”. I couldn’t fathom spending a few bucks on a pre-owned copy of the ’80s magic that is “Teen Witch”, without thinking about my empty bank account.

So what’s a girl to do without these masterpiece videos? Netflix, of course. For a thrill, we’ve gone through Hitchcock’s classic “Psycho”, delved into “Paranormal Activity” for a sleepless night, and “Blair Witch Project”-ed myself.

But what about the humorous, the lighthearted that my trick-or-treating self enjoyed so much in earlier days? I looked no further than what is absolutely near-and-dear to my heart: MST3K. For those of you non-nerds that haven’t immersed yourself in a 24-hour extravaganza of Mystery Science Theater 3000, you are missing out.

Introduced by my dad, we never could get enough of this Minneapolis-based show when it first appeared on Comedy Central. The Thanksgiving holiday wasn’t devoted just to turkey, no, it was also about “Gamera”, “Zombie Nightmare” and other D-rate movies. Listening to robots and humans make fun of the horrors of cinema made us have such gut-wrenching belly laughs, there was nothing like it. We had quite a few of them dubbed on VHS tapes, and after school or on Saturday afternoons, my two siblings and I would spend hours rewinding the parts we found the funniest. It got to the point where we would find old movies on television and try our hand at sarcasm – sending us in a fit of hysterics over our own humor.

The best were the shorts – 15-minute films that were obviously shown to the youth of the ’60s in P.E. class. My personal favorite was a half-hour black and white promotional flick from Iowa State University. In an effort to recruit the female persuasion to their home ec studies program, the college created one of the most sexist and hilarious films of all time. Add in the snark of Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot, and you have got just the best thing around.

My fiancee has been subjected to my family’s humor time and time again, and he has been forced to watch a couple of our all-time favorite episodes. Instead of watching a traditional holiday movie last Christmas Eve, we chose “Santa Claus Conquers the Martians” – it just seemed fitting.

We were able to find a few of the episodes on Netflix a couple nights ago. We chose “The Final Sacrifice” on Saturday evening. On Sunday, neither one of us could stop repeating some of the more memorable lines from the show. So imagine my surprise, when Nate and I sat down to watch an hour of TV and he suggested, “Um, could we watch another one of those?” I didn’t even suggest the beloved series, he did it all on his own. How ’bout that?

I knew I picked the right guy.

Understanding 9/11

11 Sep
The Empty Sky Memorial in Jersey City, N.J.

The Empty Sky Memorial in Jersey City, N.J.

Each workday, I enter and leave through the Port Authority Trans-Hudson hub that sits right next to the World Trade Center. The six-minute train ride underneath the river lets me sort out my thoughts before my short jaunt to the building that houses Soap Opera Digest. At 6 p.m., I stroll back home past the New York Stock Exchange, gothic buildings and churches in the Financial District. As soon as I hit Fulton Street, I look straight ahead. There, the Freedom Tower stands prominently, and I have to tilt my head up to see the entire building with its newly placed spire.

As soon as I open the door to my brownstone apartment in Jersey City, I can see the tower standing alone in the distance. I am reminded day after day, time after time, of 9/11.

When it happened, I was a senior at Webster City High School. We had a two-hour in-service that morning and my mom was busy talking to my uncle Dave on the phone about some things that needed fixing in the house. He must have said, “Turn on the news!” because my mom hurriedly flipped on the small TV in my parent’s bedroom. She let out a small shriek and covered her mouth, as we both watched the second plane hit. I knew it was a big deal, I knew that this was horribly wrong but as a 17-year-old, I just felt numb. We went to school and many of our teachers nixed our studies and left the television on so we could continue to watch the coverage. During lunch and cafe, we went back to talking about cross country, boys, our usual conversations. Why? We were kids, that’s why. It’s not easily digestible information that planes were being flown into buildings. That thousands of people had just died a couple hours ago. That there was so much hate.

As my senior year rolled on, I thought more about myself, as teenagers do, and kept up on the news when it fit my schedule. In the years following, I let what happened sink in. Call it maturity or finally allowing myself to unshield my eyes to the atrocities – it happened.

Since moving here, I have talked with native New Yorkers and people who lived here during the attacks. Where they were, people they know that had died – each person had a different story, but talked about it like it happened yesterday. When I first started working in Battery Park, I was very aware of the WTC site. After awhile, I started to get lost in my own thoughts and wouldn’t look up, the sounds of construction turning into background noise.

A couple months ago, I decided to watch 9/11 documentaries, like the ones produced by National Geographic. I watched YouTube videos of the attacks happening during the Today Show, of people getting off the PATH train and finding out about the carnage as they were getting out of the hub. I saw all the surrounding buildings that I walk by every day. I saw people sprinting down the streets that I walk every day. I pictured myself on one of my normal workdays, getting out of the train at the same time it happened. It’s now more real than it has ever been.

I have read the names of people at the memorial aloud; to fully understand that some of these normal people lived in the same neighborhood I do, probably frequented some of the same pubs, and hung out in the parks where I like to read.

Now, I don’t walk back and forth caught up in the music I am listening to or thinking about what I’m about to cook for dinner. I always look up at the Freedom Tower and think about that day and all the people affected. I think about the people trapped in the higher floors and others falling to their death. I see fire trucks daily on their way to some emergency and think about all those firefighters who climbed the stairs with all that heavy gear.

If living here has done one thing, it’s that I realize that life is truly a gift. One not to be wasted or squandered. It could have been any one of these people that I walk to work with, the sea of people heading off to their full-time jobs. Sometimes when something so horrific happens in a far-off place, it’s hard to take a walk in their shoes and understand that those affected are just normal people. Listening to their headphones, planning their grocery list, thinking of the weekend ahead.

If I didn’t let it sink in then, 12 years ago, I have definitely let it sink in now.

Friends

9 Sep
One of those people (one of the COOLEST, "said in my best Will Ferrell impression") in my life, who just happens to make it so much better.

One of those people (“the COOLEST,” said in my best Will Ferrell impression) in my life, who just happens to make it so much better.

“Do you notice you get a little less angry when the crowds become almost unbearable?”

“Yes.”

It’s been a year since we moved to NYC, and in that time, a lot has changed. I went from not working to babysitting to bartending to landing a full-time writing gig. Nate and I got engaged. And now we are less than two months away from our wedding.

While it’s easy to gripe about the constant foot traffic and lack of space – it’s also a pretty cool place. When we do have money and are able to partake in what the city offers – it’s at a Shake Shack, coffee shop, or a pub with a cool vibe or theme. And a lot of times it’s with friends.

That’s what makes it livable for me, being around people I thoroughly enjoy. Unfortunately, with work schedules and commuting, it’s not an everyday occurrence that I see these wonderful faces, but when I do, I’m glad we’ve made time for our meetings.

Yesterday was one of those days. Well, it wasn’t exactly a “hang out and relax” time period, it was a day for our engagement photos. In our dress clothes we walked to different parts of Central Park and our good friend, a photographer, took shots of us in various poses by famous points of the park.

It was really cool to be able to take our photos in such an iconic NYC place by someone we both care about, making the experience not such a formal situation. We talked of “Breaking Bad”, upcoming events we’d like to attend, and current events. And while we were all exhausted by the experience, afterwards it didn’t take too much arm twisting to land at our beloved Shake Shack for Shackburgers and Concretes.

I fell asleep on Nate’s shoulder on the train back to Jersey City, but when we got back, I realized I had a missed call from one of my bridesmaids who lives in Colorado. After lots of phone tag in the past week, we finally were able to talk over wedding plans, our lives, funny stories – she’s one of those people that no matter how much time goes in between seeing each other, we pick up right where we left off. After more than an hour, we said our good-byes, and I couldn’t wait for my wedding just to spend some time in her presence laughing about whatever nonsense I’m sure will happen.

Sometimes I get so down on the fact that my family is miles away in Iowa, and I forget all the friends I have right here or only a phone call away. People that have the same humor or tastes, have had shared experiences, and even people from the same small town I came from.

This place can be absolutely lonely, and many people are unable to stay here for a long period because they can’t make personal connections and thrive. Yesterday was a good reminder of what I do have and what I can easily take for granted.

 

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,206 other followers

%d bloggers like this: