Things I Learned About My Dad

IN THERAPY.

No, the words didn't really need to be that big or bold or pink for that matter... But, whatcha gonna do.

Dooce has gathered essays and written about dads. As my clock seems to be ticking louder and louder these days - concurrent with my lament that my husband and I can't possibly be ready for children - I wonder about fatherhood. About what it feels like.

There are many things I will never know about - Thailand's infrastructure, kidney mash, what it is to be blind (I could go on). And I will never know what it feels like to be a father -- despite having one, having a variety of fatherhood figures in my life - despite wanting to be a team member in a parenting pair.

So, on to my Dad. Mel. Melvin if I was feeling particularly snarky. He was strong. Growing up he used to work out in our basement and I remember him lifting lots of things. He had a fantastic ability to be there - where ever there needed to be. It was a phone call, an email, a scribbled note. He was always present - always supportive, never taking over the moment.

Now, this I say are my impressions of my father as a child. As an adult, I saw something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. So, maybe that was a lesson in and of itself -- nothing, no one is ever exactly what they seem. (How damn scary that you left me with that. How damn scary that trust and predictability seems to be the thing I cannot get past.)

Lessons though -- not impressions, but lessons... I think my faith has a lot of its roots in my father's teachings. He loved to go to church - to read us the Bible. I think if he was ever able to escape the shackles of his wife he would go back to being the man he was supposed to be.

And I... I'm glad he warned me. I remember him telling me I was becoming a Dragon Lady like my mom. I knew, through his mistake, his sacrifice that I needed someone strong. Not just physically strong - I can hire someone to move the dining room hutch - but someone emotionally strong and grounded. Thank you Dad. In a round about way, I think you might have saved me there.

I wish I could save you. I wish I knew more about you. Why things are still so secret. Why you won't talk to your parents. I wish I knew why you won't get out. Lessons: I know you've got more to give. It's a damn shame you aren't around to give them.

So, anyway can't wait to read the book. Dude that was a pretty visceral reaction. You should probably pre-order at Amazon.

Simple Pleasures

A ripe clementine.
Watching the victory speech of a political candidate that has transcended horse race politics.
A chick-fil-a diet coke (with caffeine).
A warm, soft blanket.
Drumline on a Sunday morning. (shut up, I'm waiting for Meet the Press).
Seeing familiar faces standing behind the next POTUS on a South Carolina stage.

This weekend has been something else. Watching history take place in South Carolina has been amazing. Amazing. Knowing how race shades every issue in the south - which I dare to say that you cannot realize until you have lived there, really lived there.

I am encouraged - enticed - seduced. I am ready for this man to take over; to bring our nation back on track. To refocus our energy and efforts on rebuilding the inside of this phenomenal country.

Damn. Great weekend.

You know it's bad

when your husband, after saying something particularly ridiculous, says, "This is going on the blog, isn't it?" I don't have the heart to tell him that the three readers who come to this site every day aren't really his fan base...

And now I can't even remember what he said. So, go figure.

I'm almost deliriously happy today -- which makes about as much sense as caffeine-free diet coke. My not-boss (although no one has told him he's not my boss) has been throwing me under the bus the last few weeks. Which is interesting on so many levels. One being that I had never even heard the term, "Thrown under the bus," prior to working at this agency.

Meanwhile, my husband is finally working. And I don't say "finally" in a negative way. Oooooh no! This is excellent! Highly excellent! He's dressed - in grown up clothes - when he gets home from work. And he's excited and happy and challenged. And still studying for the Bar -- let us not forget that all important test looming in our future.

I think we should do something nice for ourselves afterwords... I'm just not sure at the moment. He's never had a massage...

Okay, I'm off to work. It's Thursday!

Various & Sundry x 42

So, it's been rather busy the last two weeks in our household. Kramps was a turd (he'll probably read this and say, "Turd Ferguson" and I'll roll my eyes). But, we've gotten through the turd period and we're moving forward. Amazing.

So, there are various things on my mind - here are a few:
1) Some folks are traveling to pitch to a chicken processing plant. I suggested the Palestine Garden (hat tip KatieCali) instead. We'll see. I'm crossing my fingers.
2) We have a wedding in Orlando in early March. Despite my annoyance with a Sunday afternoon wedding, I have been perusing Anthropologie and have come up with two possibilities for this occasion - the Rain-In-Spain Shift or perhaps the Lovesome dress. Which brings me to...
3) Nutrisystem. I'm stalking my 44.2 lb delivery (it's in Atlanta tonight). I am so excited. Yeah, yeah I know... but I'm more excited about the fact that I don't have to cook for a while. Which brings me to...
4) Soup. It's cold and rainy tonight in Tally and I made Broccoli & Cheese Soup (from Cooking Light). Y'all - it was so yummy. Thick and creamy and delicious. FYI - I used leeks instead of onions.
5) I'm sick of hearing BarBri lectures coming from the office. Seriously, I had to put a stop to him falling asleep with his iPod (contracts pushed me over the edge).
6) I am loving - LOVING - American Idol this year. I'm waiting for Charleston's auditions and can't wait to hear about the contributions of one MSS.
7) I am addicted my new little NANO. I love her - her name is Lucy. I'm on a BritPop kick... Alice Russell and Lily Allen are two of my faves.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all I've got at the moment.

Sidelines.

Many years ago, I met one of my favorite politicos. We were cheering for Fritz as he drove in to WYFF to meet Inglis for a debate. Tonight, watching the back-to-back debates, I saw the same practice. The announcer acknowledged what I've always suspected -- the cheering is for the candidate.

This particular politico and I would meet again and again - and I miss his slow southern drawl, interesting perspective and generous compliments. (Wow, that made me homesick for the SCDP) I remember arguing about Gore, at the steps of the Township at a State Convention. He was a Gore supporter, I favored Bradley. Someone new - someone fresh - someone who would change the world.

I knew he was supporting Hillary - from a conversation long ago. I figured he wouldn't have changed, although I can't tell you that for sure. Regardless, after watching the debate tonight, I was honestly surprised at her performance. There's always that moment -- whether in a campaign, on a football field, or on a first date - that moment that either makes it or breaks it. In my opinion, this was Clinton's moment. "But I've already made change," she says.

Damn. It wasn't enough that she got angry or even that John was kissing up to Obama so hard that I almost felt bad for Elizabeth. This was a debate where she couldn't lose her cool, and yet that's exactly what she did. I don't think she was particularly mad at Obama or John or even Bill. She seemed like the popular kid who had just moved to a new high school and didn't have a date on Friday night. Petulant. I thought this article did a good job of explaining it too.

And, as for the Republicans... I thought the first few hits to Romney were good, but McCain took it too far. He sounded like a bitter ex-wife. I also thought it was interesting that Romney flat out defended pharmaceutical companies. (I personally don't care how many commercials they run about finding the cure for Alzheimer's - I think they're awful).

All in all, a very good political evening. K. and I even enjoyed ourselves -- probably because neither one of us can really speak right now.

I am so rad.

It's nearly midnight on Friday night and I'm reading food blogs, planning my Publix spree tomorrow morning. I am sick. SICK - no voice, save for the raspy, pleading whining that begs Chris for the occasional glass of water. I am so cool.

So, I'm looking of recipes for the coming week -- veggie ones -- and of course, after looking for basics at Cooling Light or FoodTV, I head on over to my favorite food blogger, Smitten Kitchen. Today, she's featuring Goulash. And it looks delicious.

Did I mention that my husband is 1/4 Hungarian? He makes a mean Paprikash and I adore stuffed cabbage and his Hungarian Tomato Sauce. The interesting thing is that Deb mentions, in her post, that she collects tins of Paprika. CHRIS DOES TOO. Ohmygoodness, I now have something in common with this kitchen inspiration.

I know, I'm excited too. Chris buys Paprika constantly. Each time he makes a Hungarian dish, while not weekly, a brand-spanking-new red tin takes up residence in my cramped kitchen. WTF? I asked him once - demanded to know why he was wasting the $2.19 every month on a new paprika. His answer? He's keeping the Hungarian economy afloat.

Kid's quick.

Oh IowA!

Days like this, I miss Laurin Manning. When national media is so focused on the horse race, when Meredith Vieira has the audacity to ask Obama for a "straight answer" on how important it is for him to win in Iowa, when Fox News blares from another room -- I miss her analysis and pithy commentary.

I have not chosen a candidate. But I am damn excited for two folks today. I hope the weather in South Carolina is as favorable as it is today in Iowa.

Birthday #27

My birthday is one week away. I will be twenty-seven years old.

Several things seem to be floating around in my noggin:

• This will be my first birthday when my Grami does not call early in the morning to sing me Happy Birthday and tell me that she loves me. She would tell me the story of how I blew spit bubbles at her as she held me - her first grandchild. She was the second person to hold me. How precious this knowledge is to me now.
• This is my second birthday in Tallahassee with Chris. Last year he put a candle in a half grapefruit and it was the cutest thing (weirdest thing) ever. Can't wait for this year's Birthday Bunny.
• Yes, I still celebrate Birthday Bunny and I never plan to stop.
• I love the story about the snowy night in January, 27 years ago. There was a full moon and my mother had bought bags and bags of groceries - she was nesting.
• I am twenty-seven years old. Well, almost. And that's the oldest I've ever been.

Twenty-seven.I am so glad I'm alive. I'm so glad that I'm loved. I'm so glad that I still smile when I think about my birthday.

Stretch A Penny

My husband told me he never knew I could stretch pennies so far. To be perfectly honest, neither did I.

In the past, money and I didn't quite get along. I loved spending it - loved thinking about it - loved making endless spreadsheets. The problem was I had no clue what to do with it. Overspending wasn't an occasional woe, it was a constant disaster.

So, one of my goals in the next two years is to eliminate the bulk of our debt. Considering our student loan totals, I know we won't get rid of all of it in two years (or ten). However, by 2010 - I plan to have zero unsecured debt. More than that, instead of dreaming of our first house, I plan to be earnestly looking for our first home.

It's exciting - incredibly scary - planning for two years from now. I cannot believe it. We started walking this week. Me with George and my new iPod Nano, Lucy (yes, I named my iPod). Chris listening to Barbri on his iPod and occasionally making a snorting noise. Walking - just walking. We did one mile and then one and a half -- we're slowly getting back into shape (hoping to get back into shape). We're eating lots of tomatoes and wheat and fiber.

I want to start a family. And it's going to take me two years to get ready. And it's going to be fun and weird and we're bound to love it and hate it and question our decision.
Don't say I never did anything for you kid.

Fat & Happy

The K.'s 2008
Originally uploaded by CK[2]

We had a fantastic night.
The Laughing Troupe was hysterical -- I got all the jokes: even the local stuff. I think that might become some sort of tradition.

Happy New Year - best of luck in 2008!