Prior to the midglet's arrival, I spent hours of "free time" working on writing fiction. Mostly fantasy, with solid writing and weak plotting. Rereading some of it now, I still stand by individual scenes and characters, but the overall story-arcs give me pain.
Groan-worthy pain. Who-was-I-trying-to-fool pain.
Fortunately, I have a sense of humor about my own limitations, so after the pain comes laughter and head-shaking.
But in any case, after my "free time" became kid time, I convinced myself that I was a much better editor than I was a storyteller, so I might as well accept that the writer gig was never going to work out for me anyway, so I wasn't missing anything by just giving it up.
But lately? Lately I'm feeling the twitch to write again. I have new ideas in slightly different genres and I find myself playing around with character and plot in ways that I haven't in years.
So... I'm doing some research on a few topics - New England history and mythology mostly - and we'll see how it all meshes together over the next few months.
Showing posts with label navel gazing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label navel gazing. Show all posts
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Regular Posting to Resume
I have seen the error of my ways. I will hereforth desist in posting lengthy updates on the Dooce Community and Facebook and Ravelry, and will instead attend faithfully to this long neglected Blog.
Yeah, sorry, I can't continue with that, even if it is April Fool's. Heh heh.
Here's the short version of life:
Work has gotten a lot crazier lately in a "be careful what you wish for" kind of way. It's good, and it means more job security, but it also means a lot less time for slacking off.
There is a definite element of being on the Life Merry-go-round these days... wake up, feed Zoe, shower, hand Zoe back and forth as we get ready to leave for work, drive to work, hustle through the day so we can leave by 4:30, pick up Zoe, drive home, make dinner and feed Zoe, eat, maybe watch a few episodes of something on Netflix, continue to feed Zoe until she passes out, pack up diapers and other morning gear, brush teeth, go to bed. Rinse. Repeat.
This weekend we're trying something ever so slightly different - driving to NJ for spring break with the in-laws. My parents are meeting us there and staying at a hotel with us, since the in-laws aren't really set up for hosting two adults & a bebe. It's the 2010 Grandparent Extravaganza! Should be fun, but I'm not really looking forward to the drive. Babies need more breaks than we big people do, ya know. Usually the drive takes about 6 hours with one or two stops. We're thinking it's going to be more like 8. Hours, not stops. I hope.
Anywho... just checking in again. Time to grab lunch and get back to work.
I have seen the error of my ways. I will hereforth desist in posting lengthy updates on the Dooce Community and Facebook and Ravelry, and will instead attend faithfully to this long neglected Blog.
Yeah, sorry, I can't continue with that, even if it is April Fool's. Heh heh.
Here's the short version of life:
Work has gotten a lot crazier lately in a "be careful what you wish for" kind of way. It's good, and it means more job security, but it also means a lot less time for slacking off.
There is a definite element of being on the Life Merry-go-round these days... wake up, feed Zoe, shower, hand Zoe back and forth as we get ready to leave for work, drive to work, hustle through the day so we can leave by 4:30, pick up Zoe, drive home, make dinner and feed Zoe, eat, maybe watch a few episodes of something on Netflix, continue to feed Zoe until she passes out, pack up diapers and other morning gear, brush teeth, go to bed. Rinse. Repeat.
This weekend we're trying something ever so slightly different - driving to NJ for spring break with the in-laws. My parents are meeting us there and staying at a hotel with us, since the in-laws aren't really set up for hosting two adults & a bebe. It's the 2010 Grandparent Extravaganza! Should be fun, but I'm not really looking forward to the drive. Babies need more breaks than we big people do, ya know. Usually the drive takes about 6 hours with one or two stops. We're thinking it's going to be more like 8. Hours, not stops. I hope.
Anywho... just checking in again. Time to grab lunch and get back to work.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Glenn
I realized the only way I'm going to actually write these things that I want to write is to not worry about any sort of order and just throw them out as they occur to me.
So, Glenn.
I moved to Grand Canyon, Arizona in May 1999. I moved there because I no longer wanted to live in Pittsburgh near my parents. Also, I fell deeply deeply in love with the Southwest United States on a family road trip in 1995. The hot, dry air, the subtle colors of the rocks and sand, the surprisingly varied plants - from Ponderosa Pine to short and spiky yucca. And the Grand Canyon herself... The Canyon seemed like a religion to me. You know, a religion that wouldn't make me want to beat my head against the wall or go out a shoot someone. A pretty damn rare and special kind of religion.
Sadly, I've never been especially good with religion, and I never quite made it into the ranks of the True Believers, which is partly why I left the Grand Canyon in May 2001. But that's not really relevant to this little essay which I'm pretending is about someone I once knew who made a lasting impression on me.
So. Glenn. Glenn was one of the leads (like a supervisor) at the Bright Angel Transportation Desk (the BAT desk - hah). Unlike the myriad employees of the concessionaire who sported name tags proclaiming origins of "Iowa", "Indiana", "Pennsylvania", or "France", Glenn's read "Arizona", though to be more precise, it could have just as easily read "Navajo Nation". And also unlike the mostly transient employee base, Glenn, like many of the other Navajo employees, were much more permanent residents and workers.
When I started working at BA Trans, Glenn had been there for five years. He'd been in the park for 10. This in a place where the average length of employment ran about 2 months. He didn't speak to me. He rarely made eye contact when he did speak in his low and steady, nearly-monotone voice, and he said the most appalling things to the guests. At least, as far as I was concerned.
One morning, a couple approached the desk and asked if the weather was going to hold for their overnight mule trip to Phantom Ranch. "Let me consult my crystal ball," Glenn replied. The thing I heard him say most often was, "Ma'am (or sir), you need to calm down. I'm trying to help you." As part of my training, I went on that particular overnight trip and had to listen to this couple complain about how rude Glenn had been to them.
Of course, after 2 years of dealing with similar questions, I couldn't believe how calm he managed to remain. We never had a close friendship, but I know we appreciated each other's competence at the job. Most likely because competence was in ridiculously short supply.
If you listened carefully, you might have realized that the man had a wicked sense of understated humor, and that he always called 'em like he saw 'em. He would not hesitate to tell you if he thought you were wrong, or being an idiot. He was never late for a shift (shockingly rare trait in the staff there) and he never made any of the tragic mistakes that some of the other leads did (like overbooking or letting guests with questionable English skills go on the mule trip). Of course, by the time I got there, he had spent five years at the job, so maybe his mistakes had been ironed out by then. I do know that while guests complained about his rude treatment (as they perceived it), they never complained that he gave them incorrect information. I saw him spend hours at a time trying to help visitors with travel problems or reservation difficulties. He wasn't perky about it, but he really would do everything in his power to solve a problem.
And even though, when a mutual friend and former coworker stopped in for a visit at the Canyon (yes, Glenn's still there), Glenn claimed not to remember who I was, I still remember him fondly, with just a tinge of exasperation.
I realized the only way I'm going to actually write these things that I want to write is to not worry about any sort of order and just throw them out as they occur to me.
So, Glenn.
I moved to Grand Canyon, Arizona in May 1999. I moved there because I no longer wanted to live in Pittsburgh near my parents. Also, I fell deeply deeply in love with the Southwest United States on a family road trip in 1995. The hot, dry air, the subtle colors of the rocks and sand, the surprisingly varied plants - from Ponderosa Pine to short and spiky yucca. And the Grand Canyon herself... The Canyon seemed like a religion to me. You know, a religion that wouldn't make me want to beat my head against the wall or go out a shoot someone. A pretty damn rare and special kind of religion.
Sadly, I've never been especially good with religion, and I never quite made it into the ranks of the True Believers, which is partly why I left the Grand Canyon in May 2001. But that's not really relevant to this little essay which I'm pretending is about someone I once knew who made a lasting impression on me.
So. Glenn. Glenn was one of the leads (like a supervisor) at the Bright Angel Transportation Desk (the BAT desk - hah). Unlike the myriad employees of the concessionaire who sported name tags proclaiming origins of "Iowa", "Indiana", "Pennsylvania", or "France", Glenn's read "Arizona", though to be more precise, it could have just as easily read "Navajo Nation". And also unlike the mostly transient employee base, Glenn, like many of the other Navajo employees, were much more permanent residents and workers.
When I started working at BA Trans, Glenn had been there for five years. He'd been in the park for 10. This in a place where the average length of employment ran about 2 months. He didn't speak to me. He rarely made eye contact when he did speak in his low and steady, nearly-monotone voice, and he said the most appalling things to the guests. At least, as far as I was concerned.
One morning, a couple approached the desk and asked if the weather was going to hold for their overnight mule trip to Phantom Ranch. "Let me consult my crystal ball," Glenn replied. The thing I heard him say most often was, "Ma'am (or sir), you need to calm down. I'm trying to help you." As part of my training, I went on that particular overnight trip and had to listen to this couple complain about how rude Glenn had been to them.
Of course, after 2 years of dealing with similar questions, I couldn't believe how calm he managed to remain. We never had a close friendship, but I know we appreciated each other's competence at the job. Most likely because competence was in ridiculously short supply.
If you listened carefully, you might have realized that the man had a wicked sense of understated humor, and that he always called 'em like he saw 'em. He would not hesitate to tell you if he thought you were wrong, or being an idiot. He was never late for a shift (shockingly rare trait in the staff there) and he never made any of the tragic mistakes that some of the other leads did (like overbooking or letting guests with questionable English skills go on the mule trip). Of course, by the time I got there, he had spent five years at the job, so maybe his mistakes had been ironed out by then. I do know that while guests complained about his rude treatment (as they perceived it), they never complained that he gave them incorrect information. I saw him spend hours at a time trying to help visitors with travel problems or reservation difficulties. He wasn't perky about it, but he really would do everything in his power to solve a problem.
And even though, when a mutual friend and former coworker stopped in for a visit at the Canyon (yes, Glenn's still there), Glenn claimed not to remember who I was, I still remember him fondly, with just a tinge of exasperation.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Mikey
Yeah, I don't know what happened to April, either.
So... moving on.
I worked with Mike at the grill in our college dining services. He was a full-timer, I worked about 10 hours a week as a freshman, and later closer to 20 hours a week as the student area manager my senior year.
Mike was a little nutty - suffered from major depressive issues - had been a roadie with different bands in the 80s and was married with three kids when I knew him in the 90s. I would guess his age at 37 or 38 when we first met. He also had a band of his own and on a few occasions they played at different frat parties on campus.
From the beginning, I was one of the few students who could manage Mike and his moodiness. (The gifts of growing up with an alcoholic parent? I don't know.) On the good days we would play practical jokes on each other, or do stuff that would have gotten us fired in another situation. On bad days I would tease him and be silly until he rose out of the funk a bit.
Once he threw a wad of raw hamburger at me. In retaliation I pretended to slit his throat with the bread knife I was using at the time, only to reverse it at the last second and run the dull edge across his neck. We would put on finger condoms (for food service workers who have a cut on a finger), blow them up and then shoot them at each other. (Seriously amusing in case you've never tried it.) On a couple other occasions, one of the other student workers and I put all the grill tools in a pan of water and then stuck it in the freezer for Mikey to discover in the morning. He acted pissed, but you could tell he loved the attention.
After I graduated, Mikey fell apart just a little bit more - left the grill that he had made popular, moved to another work area, got divorced, and so on. Until I moved to Vermont, I would get a phone call from him every six months or so just to catch up... Not to say that his collapse had anything to do with me, but I was not hearing good things after I left.
In one phone call from him, maybe 3 years after I graduated, he told me about giving his wife a diamond ring for their anniversary. He said he surprised her with it and her reaction made him think about me. (yes, creepy, I agree) A year or so after that, when they split up (she left him for someone else) he told me that she had always been jealous of me and "ha ha" wasn't that ridiculous.
Yeah. So I'm a little more cautious in the relationships I have with people at work now.
It's been a while, and last I heard, Mikey had all three of his kids living with him and was dating a woman he had known for years, and all seemed to be on the way up. I hope things worked out with them and that they're happy together.
Yeah, I don't know what happened to April, either.
So... moving on.
I worked with Mike at the grill in our college dining services. He was a full-timer, I worked about 10 hours a week as a freshman, and later closer to 20 hours a week as the student area manager my senior year.
Mike was a little nutty - suffered from major depressive issues - had been a roadie with different bands in the 80s and was married with three kids when I knew him in the 90s. I would guess his age at 37 or 38 when we first met. He also had a band of his own and on a few occasions they played at different frat parties on campus.
From the beginning, I was one of the few students who could manage Mike and his moodiness. (The gifts of growing up with an alcoholic parent? I don't know.) On the good days we would play practical jokes on each other, or do stuff that would have gotten us fired in another situation. On bad days I would tease him and be silly until he rose out of the funk a bit.
Once he threw a wad of raw hamburger at me. In retaliation I pretended to slit his throat with the bread knife I was using at the time, only to reverse it at the last second and run the dull edge across his neck. We would put on finger condoms (for food service workers who have a cut on a finger), blow them up and then shoot them at each other. (Seriously amusing in case you've never tried it.) On a couple other occasions, one of the other student workers and I put all the grill tools in a pan of water and then stuck it in the freezer for Mikey to discover in the morning. He acted pissed, but you could tell he loved the attention.
After I graduated, Mikey fell apart just a little bit more - left the grill that he had made popular, moved to another work area, got divorced, and so on. Until I moved to Vermont, I would get a phone call from him every six months or so just to catch up... Not to say that his collapse had anything to do with me, but I was not hearing good things after I left.
In one phone call from him, maybe 3 years after I graduated, he told me about giving his wife a diamond ring for their anniversary. He said he surprised her with it and her reaction made him think about me. (yes, creepy, I agree) A year or so after that, when they split up (she left him for someone else) he told me that she had always been jealous of me and "ha ha" wasn't that ridiculous.
Yeah. So I'm a little more cautious in the relationships I have with people at work now.
It's been a while, and last I heard, Mikey had all three of his kids living with him and was dating a woman he had known for years, and all seemed to be on the way up. I hope things worked out with them and that they're happy together.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
61 months and counting
So.
Drive-by posting ahead:
Been doing this blog for much longer than I ever anticipated.
Still have lots to say.
Some might even be interesting.
Putting a lot of my creative energy into work these days.
Still no Internet at home.
But many good intentions and things to write about.
Might pick up again sometime soon.
Probably going to be quiet until we ransom our souls to the satellite internet providers though.
Sigh.
.....
So.
Drive-by posting ahead:
Been doing this blog for much longer than I ever anticipated.
Still have lots to say.
Some might even be interesting.
Putting a lot of my creative energy into work these days.
Still no Internet at home.
But many good intentions and things to write about.
Might pick up again sometime soon.
Probably going to be quiet until we ransom our souls to the satellite internet providers though.
Sigh.
.....
Saturday, May 12, 2007
First things first
Passport arrived! Jay called me while I was at the airport in Detroit (on my way to Denver for a wedding) to let me know that the FedEx guys pulled into the driveway at the same time Jay got home. Yay!
As another note of praise for Bernie Sanders's staff, Kelly called me to confirm that she had been tracking the package and that it looked like it had been delivered safely. I am in awe.
I have free wireless in the hotel here, but last night it was EXTREMELY slow, so I'm just now getting around to the tag Sue stuck me with. Gosh. So, seven random facts or habits about me...
1. I hate the telephone. When I was cell phone only for five years, it was not uncommon for me to use twenty minutes TOTAL for an entire month. I think it's because I'm not an auditory learner by any means, and that if I need to really listen and retain information, I either have to write everything down or else it will be pretty much gone five minutes after I disconnect, except for the general ideas. No wonder I prefer email.
2. I've always had really long fingernails. Not intentionally, but just because they grow really fast and are pretty strong. I can't stand for them to be uneven though, so from the time I was about 9 years old, I've always carried a nail clipper with me.
3. I don't know if I actually dream in color, or whether I just remember certain things as having particular colors. Last night I dreamed that someone braided extensions into my hair with long red ribbons. (Clearly, I've been watching too much America's Next Top Model.) I also remember a dream in which my then-boyfriend (not Jay) was sitting at the end of a driveway juggling a basket of blue oranges. (I'll leave the interpretation to you on that one...)
4. When I was in seventh grade, my best friend's mother (a professional artist) offered to give me private lessons for free after seeing my sketch book. How stupid was I to turn that one down. D'oh.
5. I've always been pretty shy, but sometimes I can fake an outgoing chatty personality really really well, and with no alcohol involved. It works best when the people around me are either also shy, or don't know each other either. (In other words, weddings are prime.) Other times I morph back into the little girl hiding behind mom's skirt. But I can put it on when needed. Good to know, I think.
6. The trip starting Tuesday will be my ninth trip to Europe, but will be the second time in England. However, on previous trips I only left London twice - once to visit a friend in Edinburgh, and another to visit a friend in Oxford. Both of those trips were in October, so I've never actually been to England when it wasn't raining...
7. I like cats. Jay says I am part cat. Cats like me. Unfortunately, ever since my childhood cat died in 1998, I have had a brutal allergic reaction to cat dander. First the skin that came in contact with cat starts to itch, then turns red, and if not promptly washed, will break out into ginormous hives that will spread across my body until I kick them out with a nice 5-9 day course of steroids. So when people ask if I like cats, I say, "Yes, but the steroids are a killer."
Passport arrived! Jay called me while I was at the airport in Detroit (on my way to Denver for a wedding) to let me know that the FedEx guys pulled into the driveway at the same time Jay got home. Yay!
As another note of praise for Bernie Sanders's staff, Kelly called me to confirm that she had been tracking the package and that it looked like it had been delivered safely. I am in awe.
I have free wireless in the hotel here, but last night it was EXTREMELY slow, so I'm just now getting around to the tag Sue stuck me with. Gosh. So, seven random facts or habits about me...
1. I hate the telephone. When I was cell phone only for five years, it was not uncommon for me to use twenty minutes TOTAL for an entire month. I think it's because I'm not an auditory learner by any means, and that if I need to really listen and retain information, I either have to write everything down or else it will be pretty much gone five minutes after I disconnect, except for the general ideas. No wonder I prefer email.
2. I've always had really long fingernails. Not intentionally, but just because they grow really fast and are pretty strong. I can't stand for them to be uneven though, so from the time I was about 9 years old, I've always carried a nail clipper with me.
3. I don't know if I actually dream in color, or whether I just remember certain things as having particular colors. Last night I dreamed that someone braided extensions into my hair with long red ribbons. (Clearly, I've been watching too much America's Next Top Model.) I also remember a dream in which my then-boyfriend (not Jay) was sitting at the end of a driveway juggling a basket of blue oranges. (I'll leave the interpretation to you on that one...)
4. When I was in seventh grade, my best friend's mother (a professional artist) offered to give me private lessons for free after seeing my sketch book. How stupid was I to turn that one down. D'oh.
5. I've always been pretty shy, but sometimes I can fake an outgoing chatty personality really really well, and with no alcohol involved. It works best when the people around me are either also shy, or don't know each other either. (In other words, weddings are prime.) Other times I morph back into the little girl hiding behind mom's skirt. But I can put it on when needed. Good to know, I think.
6. The trip starting Tuesday will be my ninth trip to Europe, but will be the second time in England. However, on previous trips I only left London twice - once to visit a friend in Edinburgh, and another to visit a friend in Oxford. Both of those trips were in October, so I've never actually been to England when it wasn't raining...
7. I like cats. Jay says I am part cat. Cats like me. Unfortunately, ever since my childhood cat died in 1998, I have had a brutal allergic reaction to cat dander. First the skin that came in contact with cat starts to itch, then turns red, and if not promptly washed, will break out into ginormous hives that will spread across my body until I kick them out with a nice 5-9 day course of steroids. So when people ask if I like cats, I say, "Yes, but the steroids are a killer."
Friday, April 27, 2007
That's right. I'm brilliant.
Hah. (Thanks to Sue for the procrastination tool. Just 12 more research essays to go!)
Hah. (Thanks to Sue for the procrastination tool. Just 12 more research essays to go!)
| Your Personality is Very Rare (INTP) |
 Your personality type is goofy, imaginative, relaxed, and brilliant. Only about 4% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 6% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceiving. |
Friday, March 23, 2007
The Raging Koala
See, I promised, and I occasionally follow through. (I'm still waiting on the kayak pictures, too. Not my fault - I swear.)
About a month or so ago, we were invited to a game night at a fellow faculty member's house. Much fun - best chocolate chip cookies I've had in ages - and a whole bunch of games I had never played before. One of those games was called ImaginIFF. The idea behind the game is that you roll the dice and based on the roll, one player is "it". Then the person who rolled the dice picks a card that reads like this: If player X was a house, what kind of house would he/she be? Then it lists six different options, and everyone selects the option they think best fits. Majority wins the right to advance on the board.
Everyone ends up as the focus multiple times throughout the game. Some options are more revealing than others, and it doesn't really matter if you're correct according to the player in question, only that you agree with what everyone else thinks about the player in question. Don't know if that made sense... but regardless... enough set up.
Two questions with me as the focus: "If Kate were an emotion, which would she be? Sadness, hatred, envy, love, lust, rage. Consensus went with "love". Safe and inoffensive, right? Guess which one Jay picked?
Rage.
And you know what? He's totally right. I have an insane temper. And I'm not using the word insane lightly, either. I can laugh off a lot of things, but when I get really angry, I become a different person. I don't have any control of myself when I get a rage on. It's genetic. Seriously. Why do you think I don't live near the folks? This, I'm sure comes as no surprise to the people who know me well. But I'm at least glad that I don't project that image to the people who don't already know and love me.
So that's the raging part. The koala part comes about in much the same way. The only funny part is that out of the choices (panther, golden retriever, palomino, crocodile, koala, and something else I can't remember) all but one person out of the eight who were there chose koala for me. Even the ones who didn't know me. I guess it's the ashy blondness, slight pudginess, and my undeniable cuddliness.
But when you put the two together: Rage + Koala ... slightly incongruous, non? And yet, oddly representative of my personality.
*Note to self: must find picture of berserker koala
See, I promised, and I occasionally follow through. (I'm still waiting on the kayak pictures, too. Not my fault - I swear.)
About a month or so ago, we were invited to a game night at a fellow faculty member's house. Much fun - best chocolate chip cookies I've had in ages - and a whole bunch of games I had never played before. One of those games was called ImaginIFF. The idea behind the game is that you roll the dice and based on the roll, one player is "it". Then the person who rolled the dice picks a card that reads like this: If player X was a house, what kind of house would he/she be? Then it lists six different options, and everyone selects the option they think best fits. Majority wins the right to advance on the board.
Everyone ends up as the focus multiple times throughout the game. Some options are more revealing than others, and it doesn't really matter if you're correct according to the player in question, only that you agree with what everyone else thinks about the player in question. Don't know if that made sense... but regardless... enough set up.
Two questions with me as the focus: "If Kate were an emotion, which would she be? Sadness, hatred, envy, love, lust, rage. Consensus went with "love". Safe and inoffensive, right? Guess which one Jay picked?
Rage.
And you know what? He's totally right. I have an insane temper. And I'm not using the word insane lightly, either. I can laugh off a lot of things, but when I get really angry, I become a different person. I don't have any control of myself when I get a rage on. It's genetic. Seriously. Why do you think I don't live near the folks? This, I'm sure comes as no surprise to the people who know me well. But I'm at least glad that I don't project that image to the people who don't already know and love me.
So that's the raging part. The koala part comes about in much the same way. The only funny part is that out of the choices (panther, golden retriever, palomino, crocodile, koala, and something else I can't remember) all but one person out of the eight who were there chose koala for me. Even the ones who didn't know me. I guess it's the ashy blondness, slight pudginess, and my undeniable cuddliness.
But when you put the two together: Rage + Koala ... slightly incongruous, non? And yet, oddly representative of my personality.
*Note to self: must find picture of berserker koala
Monday, February 05, 2007
The Next Wave
The tail end of the flood of marriages is passing. We've been to a dozen or so weddings in the past 5 years. Our friends (and we) were all slow starters, relatively speaking. The first of my friends to get married was a Dartmouth classmate who married his childhood sweetheart in 2002 on labor day weekend. Five minutes later, two other dear ol' Dartmouth friends married each other. Since then, many more friends - college and otherwise - have gotten hitched. The last of my inner circle who wants to get married is doing so in Denver this May.
So now the next phase begins. The divorces.
In our completely non-scientific observations, we've noticed that the more people spend on the actual wedding party, the shorter their marriages seem to last. (We figure we're sitting pretty, having only spent $75, plus tea and dessert at the local coffee shop.)
Two friends who married on Long Island in the summer of 2003 (and whose wedding probably cost at least 1000 times what ours did) have recently filed for divorce. Two more friends who married "down the shore" in New Jersey in the summer of 2004 have a disaster brewing - both of them liked the idea of being married more than they liked each other. I can only hope they do the right thing and call it quits before the karmic debt skyrockets.
The only positive aspect of this is that the divorce wave is hitting before the baby wave did.
Of course, I hope I'm not speaking too soon...
The tail end of the flood of marriages is passing. We've been to a dozen or so weddings in the past 5 years. Our friends (and we) were all slow starters, relatively speaking. The first of my friends to get married was a Dartmouth classmate who married his childhood sweetheart in 2002 on labor day weekend. Five minutes later, two other dear ol' Dartmouth friends married each other. Since then, many more friends - college and otherwise - have gotten hitched. The last of my inner circle who wants to get married is doing so in Denver this May.
So now the next phase begins. The divorces.
In our completely non-scientific observations, we've noticed that the more people spend on the actual wedding party, the shorter their marriages seem to last. (We figure we're sitting pretty, having only spent $75, plus tea and dessert at the local coffee shop.)
Two friends who married on Long Island in the summer of 2003 (and whose wedding probably cost at least 1000 times what ours did) have recently filed for divorce. Two more friends who married "down the shore" in New Jersey in the summer of 2004 have a disaster brewing - both of them liked the idea of being married more than they liked each other. I can only hope they do the right thing and call it quits before the karmic debt skyrockets.
The only positive aspect of this is that the divorce wave is hitting before the baby wave did.
Of course, I hope I'm not speaking too soon...
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