Monday, September 28, 2009
8:43 pm I bought it.
Conversations with My Father
It's a bright Sunday morning. Stephanie is sitting at the kitchen table, probably clipping coupons. Dad is also seated at the kitchen table, in front of the laptop. An Excel spreadsheet with the family budget is on the screen. Tara floats down the stairs, looking radiant, as per usual.
Dad: Tara, did you buy clothes yesterday?
Tara: Why yes, Father, I did.
Dad: With whose money?
Tara: Mine! I'm an independent woman, Dad.
(Tara and Stephanie throw their hands in the air at the same time and proceed to sing and dance around the kitchen to the Destiny's Child hit, "Independent Woman Part I")
Dad: Remind me to have a conversation with you about the meaning of the word "independent."
Love,
Tara
All the women who independent, throw your hands up at me...
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
"My Best Friend"
Saturday, September 26, 2009
12:52 am Happy Birthday, Mom!
In honor of my mother’s birthday, I wanted to write a post about the top memories I have with her. But I’m finding it difficult. Not because I don’t have special, significant memories involving me and my mom…but because most of the ones that stick out in my mind are so personal. The relationship between a mother and daughter is filled with inside jokes and life-changing events and awkward moments. I mean, I could tell you about the first time I got my period and how my mom sat me down and explained… but that would be inappropriate. This is a blog, not a diary. Let’s try to have some boundaries.
I mean, of course I have some normal memories. As a treat when we were little, sometimes Mom would take us to Wickham Park for a picnic. We would drive through McDonald’s to get our Happy Meals (we had to eat our chicken nuggets before we could drink our shakes), and then we would go to our “secret spot” which was under this giant tree that we were sure no one else knew about. Then we would lie on our blanket and throw French fries at the squirrels and guess how many rings were in the trunk of the tree. I want to do that with my kids.
Very little has changed about the way I felt about my mom as a little girl and how I feel now. When I was little and we were living in Manchester when Mom worked nights, I would sneak out of bed to stand by the window and wait for her car to pull in the driveway. I always felt better when she was around. Now that I’m 22, I still wait around for her to come home! If she calls to say she’s on her way home, I find myself hanging around downstairs, checking the clock!
What really amazes me is how much I’ve become like this woman that I’ve grown up wanting to be. Not only am I now constantly cold, but I have inherited her “acid tongue.” I’m still trying to get to her level, because man, as soon as you zing her, she’s got another one coming right back. And the other day, she was dancing and singing around the house, and just when I was thinking about what a nut she is I realized… I DO IT TOO. I also crack up at my own jokes, predict the endings to television shows within the first five minutes, and blow kisses to other drivers who piss me off… AND SO DOES SHE.
One of the things I appreciate the most about my mom is that she always knows what to say. You may not want to hear it, and she knows this, so she’ll preface it by saying, “Well, do you want me to tell you what I think?” And you brace yourself and say yes and she tells you and SUDDENLY EVERYTHING IS SO MUCH CLEARER. She has a knack for seeing a situation as it really is – not as the crazy, overanalyzed problem that I tend to make it. And she’s so COOL about things. For example, I remember calling her during Senior Week to tell her I had kissed a guy the night before. I had kind of been kicking myself for it, until she said, “Well, do you like him or is he just someone you needed to kiss before you graduated?” HE WAS JUST SOMEONE I NEEDED TO KISS BEFORE I GRADUATED! I nearly shouted, relieved that someone could understand me better than I understood myself. I mean, what mother is THAT COOL?!?!
Living at home these past few months has given me the rare opportunity to get closer to the family members I kind of left behind when I went to college. My relationship with my mom has always been a strong one – I’ve always been able to tell her anything. And even though I used to roll my eyes when she would make me text her after I got back to my dorm after a night of drunken debauchery or now when she comes in my room every morning to kiss me goodbye, I know I’m lucky to have a mother who loves me so much. It was only recently that I realized how truly lucky I am. Because she’s not only my mother. She’s my best friend.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
Love,
Tara
I mean, of course I have some normal memories. As a treat when we were little, sometimes Mom would take us to Wickham Park for a picnic. We would drive through McDonald’s to get our Happy Meals (we had to eat our chicken nuggets before we could drink our shakes), and then we would go to our “secret spot” which was under this giant tree that we were sure no one else knew about. Then we would lie on our blanket and throw French fries at the squirrels and guess how many rings were in the trunk of the tree. I want to do that with my kids.
Very little has changed about the way I felt about my mom as a little girl and how I feel now. When I was little and we were living in Manchester when Mom worked nights, I would sneak out of bed to stand by the window and wait for her car to pull in the driveway. I always felt better when she was around. Now that I’m 22, I still wait around for her to come home! If she calls to say she’s on her way home, I find myself hanging around downstairs, checking the clock!
What really amazes me is how much I’ve become like this woman that I’ve grown up wanting to be. Not only am I now constantly cold, but I have inherited her “acid tongue.” I’m still trying to get to her level, because man, as soon as you zing her, she’s got another one coming right back. And the other day, she was dancing and singing around the house, and just when I was thinking about what a nut she is I realized… I DO IT TOO. I also crack up at my own jokes, predict the endings to television shows within the first five minutes, and blow kisses to other drivers who piss me off… AND SO DOES SHE.
One of the things I appreciate the most about my mom is that she always knows what to say. You may not want to hear it, and she knows this, so she’ll preface it by saying, “Well, do you want me to tell you what I think?” And you brace yourself and say yes and she tells you and SUDDENLY EVERYTHING IS SO MUCH CLEARER. She has a knack for seeing a situation as it really is – not as the crazy, overanalyzed problem that I tend to make it. And she’s so COOL about things. For example, I remember calling her during Senior Week to tell her I had kissed a guy the night before. I had kind of been kicking myself for it, until she said, “Well, do you like him or is he just someone you needed to kiss before you graduated?” HE WAS JUST SOMEONE I NEEDED TO KISS BEFORE I GRADUATED! I nearly shouted, relieved that someone could understand me better than I understood myself. I mean, what mother is THAT COOL?!?!
Living at home these past few months has given me the rare opportunity to get closer to the family members I kind of left behind when I went to college. My relationship with my mom has always been a strong one – I’ve always been able to tell her anything. And even though I used to roll my eyes when she would make me text her after I got back to my dorm after a night of drunken debauchery or now when she comes in my room every morning to kiss me goodbye, I know I’m lucky to have a mother who loves me so much. It was only recently that I realized how truly lucky I am. Because she’s not only my mother. She’s my best friend.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
Love,
Tara
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
"Where were you?"
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
9:24 pm Ugh.
At the risk of being criticized by my fellow journalists, I have something to say: The news is depressing. I used to look down on people who said they never watched the news because, "It's just so sad," but lately I've found I have to agree. For example, today I came home from job number two (the toy store) and signed on to AOL to check the first of my fifteen email accounts. The first thing I see on my AOL home page is the headline, "Five Slain in Home, Toddler Survives." I'm still processing this when I see the next headline, "Missing Student's Remains Found, Mom Speaks Out." I click this headline first and proceed to read about how a 19-year-old girl was abducted by knife-point in Oregon five years ago while she was cleaning light fixtures outside an apartment building her sister managed. She was then bound, raped, and bludgeoned to death. The monster who did this finally led police to where he hid her body today. At the bottom of the story there's a link to read more about "Missing Women Cases" with a photograph of Annie Le, the student who was recently murdered at Yale.
What.
The.
F***.
I just sat there, bombarded by these awful, horrific stories that are true, that actually happened to real, good, innocent people, and I just can't help but feel overwhelmed and sad and sick to my stomach. What is wrong with the world that these things happen every single day?
Now, I know there are people who will say, "Well, at least the toddler survived," and "At least they found the body," and "At least they arrested the killer," and I wish I could look at things that way, but I have a hard time seeing how these things balance out. And at the risk of getting all deep and philosophical, I'm going to get a little deep and philosophical because every time I read one of these stories, I can't help but think: Where was God then?
And I know that's probably the wrong question to be asking, but it's what I'd really like to know.
Love,
Tara
9:24 pm Ugh.
At the risk of being criticized by my fellow journalists, I have something to say: The news is depressing. I used to look down on people who said they never watched the news because, "It's just so sad," but lately I've found I have to agree. For example, today I came home from job number two (the toy store) and signed on to AOL to check the first of my fifteen email accounts. The first thing I see on my AOL home page is the headline, "Five Slain in Home, Toddler Survives." I'm still processing this when I see the next headline, "Missing Student's Remains Found, Mom Speaks Out." I click this headline first and proceed to read about how a 19-year-old girl was abducted by knife-point in Oregon five years ago while she was cleaning light fixtures outside an apartment building her sister managed. She was then bound, raped, and bludgeoned to death. The monster who did this finally led police to where he hid her body today. At the bottom of the story there's a link to read more about "Missing Women Cases" with a photograph of Annie Le, the student who was recently murdered at Yale.
What.
The.
F***.
I just sat there, bombarded by these awful, horrific stories that are true, that actually happened to real, good, innocent people, and I just can't help but feel overwhelmed and sad and sick to my stomach. What is wrong with the world that these things happen every single day?
Now, I know there are people who will say, "Well, at least the toddler survived," and "At least they found the body," and "At least they arrested the killer," and I wish I could look at things that way, but I have a hard time seeing how these things balance out. And at the risk of getting all deep and philosophical, I'm going to get a little deep and philosophical because every time I read one of these stories, I can't help but think: Where was God then?
And I know that's probably the wrong question to be asking, but it's what I'd really like to know.
Love,
Tara
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
"I Guess It's Half Timing, And The Other Half's Luck"
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
1:29 pm Fam Room
Sooo I should probably be doing some work from home right now, but I took a little break to blog. What can I say? Procrastination is my middle name.
Anyway, things at home have been really good lately. After getting the news that I didn't get my dream job on Friday I thought I would never be happy again, but I'm actually in a great mood. (Over-dramatic is my other middle name.) I've finally accepted that I'm going to be at home for a little while longer, and it feels kind of nice not to fight it. I figure I might as well make the best of it.
I've started my part-time job in Westport, and I absolutely love it. I'm learning a lot about web stuff, and they're letting me write a blog for them! I'm getting PAID to BLOG! Hello, new dream job. I really love working there, and since the drive is so long, they let me do 10 hours a week from home. So that's a total of 20 hours a week with them, and around 15 a week with the toystore. I've been busy! It's nice to be making money...
The only thing that's hard about being home is that most of my friends aren't around. But, a lot of my friends from college are in the same situation I am, so we call each other to commiserate as much as possible. In order to keep my social life alive and well (and to keep me from throwing myself in front of a bus), I have started planning monthly trips to visit my friends. September and October are already planned, with my first trip being to Lowell, MA to visit Eliz. I can't wait! In the meantime, Steph and Andrea are home, and I always have the Bingo ladies :)
I started reading a new book called, "One Moment Meditation: Stillness for People on the Go" by Martin Boronson. I'm not very far, but I already really like it. The other night I was reading it when this passage really struck me:
"On a deeper level, if our sense of contentment is dependent on circumstance, then it is vulnerable to a change of circumstances. If we are only content because life is going well, we will not be content when life is going badly. That's just not a very stable or deep kind of contentment. True contentment transcends the 'ups and downs' of life. It embraces life as it is now, with all of its imperfections. In other words, the only way to be really peaceful is to be fully content with what's happening now - even if, sometimes, it isn't peaceful." (xix)
I mean... RIGHT?!?! So that's what I'm working on: being content with my current circumstance.
A few weeks ago, Mom, Dad, Steph, Kaitlyn and I all went tubing down the Farmington River. It was a little cold and cloudy out, and I was nervous about the "rapids" people kept mentioning. So, naturally, I hadn't been in the water more than 5 minutes before I realized I was headed straight for these low-hanging branches by the side of the river. I started kind of flailing my arms and legs in an attempt to steer away from the branches, but it only brought me closer. Mom and Dad tried to "help" by yelling useful things like, "Kick your feet!" and "Don't go toward the branches!" I was doomed. Minutes later I emerged from the branches, bruised and covered in leaves and twigs.
As we were floating along later, Dad suggested that maybe getting stuck in the branches was a metaphor for how I treat situations in my life: I fight them instead of flowing with them. I countered that getting stuck in the branches was definitely a metaphor for my life in that my parents like to yell unhelpful suggestions from the side every time I get into trouble, but he did have a point. So now I'm trying to flow instead of fight.
And the flowing has been pretty rewarding so far. The other night before bed, Kaitlyn came into my room and told me that she was sorry I was sad I didn't get the job I wanted, but that she was glad to have me home with her.
It made me that much more content to keep going with the flow.
Love,
Tara
New Theme Song:
1:29 pm Fam Room
Sooo I should probably be doing some work from home right now, but I took a little break to blog. What can I say? Procrastination is my middle name.
Anyway, things at home have been really good lately. After getting the news that I didn't get my dream job on Friday I thought I would never be happy again, but I'm actually in a great mood. (Over-dramatic is my other middle name.) I've finally accepted that I'm going to be at home for a little while longer, and it feels kind of nice not to fight it. I figure I might as well make the best of it.
I've started my part-time job in Westport, and I absolutely love it. I'm learning a lot about web stuff, and they're letting me write a blog for them! I'm getting PAID to BLOG! Hello, new dream job. I really love working there, and since the drive is so long, they let me do 10 hours a week from home. So that's a total of 20 hours a week with them, and around 15 a week with the toystore. I've been busy! It's nice to be making money...
The only thing that's hard about being home is that most of my friends aren't around. But, a lot of my friends from college are in the same situation I am, so we call each other to commiserate as much as possible. In order to keep my social life alive and well (and to keep me from throwing myself in front of a bus), I have started planning monthly trips to visit my friends. September and October are already planned, with my first trip being to Lowell, MA to visit Eliz. I can't wait! In the meantime, Steph and Andrea are home, and I always have the Bingo ladies :)
I started reading a new book called, "One Moment Meditation: Stillness for People on the Go" by Martin Boronson. I'm not very far, but I already really like it. The other night I was reading it when this passage really struck me:
"On a deeper level, if our sense of contentment is dependent on circumstance, then it is vulnerable to a change of circumstances. If we are only content because life is going well, we will not be content when life is going badly. That's just not a very stable or deep kind of contentment. True contentment transcends the 'ups and downs' of life. It embraces life as it is now, with all of its imperfections. In other words, the only way to be really peaceful is to be fully content with what's happening now - even if, sometimes, it isn't peaceful." (xix)
I mean... RIGHT?!?! So that's what I'm working on: being content with my current circumstance.
A few weeks ago, Mom, Dad, Steph, Kaitlyn and I all went tubing down the Farmington River. It was a little cold and cloudy out, and I was nervous about the "rapids" people kept mentioning. So, naturally, I hadn't been in the water more than 5 minutes before I realized I was headed straight for these low-hanging branches by the side of the river. I started kind of flailing my arms and legs in an attempt to steer away from the branches, but it only brought me closer. Mom and Dad tried to "help" by yelling useful things like, "Kick your feet!" and "Don't go toward the branches!" I was doomed. Minutes later I emerged from the branches, bruised and covered in leaves and twigs.
As we were floating along later, Dad suggested that maybe getting stuck in the branches was a metaphor for how I treat situations in my life: I fight them instead of flowing with them. I countered that getting stuck in the branches was definitely a metaphor for my life in that my parents like to yell unhelpful suggestions from the side every time I get into trouble, but he did have a point. So now I'm trying to flow instead of fight.
And the flowing has been pretty rewarding so far. The other night before bed, Kaitlyn came into my room and told me that she was sorry I was sad I didn't get the job I wanted, but that she was glad to have me home with her.
It made me that much more content to keep going with the flow.
Love,
Tara
New Theme Song:
Sunday, September 6, 2009
"It's Not You, It's Me."
Saturday, September 5, 2009
11:30 pm :'(
Interviewing and dating are two things I’ve been doing a lot of this summer. And now I have a theory that they are essentially the same thing. Allow me to explain…
Firstly, the joy you feel when you get asked to come in for an interview is the same as when a cute guy asks you out: You get the call from an unknown number. You answer, using your most mature, relaxed-but-not-too-relaxed voice. You arrange a time to meet, and hang up. Then you yell “YES!” and proceed to jump and twirl about the room because MAYBE THIS IS THE ONE!
To prepare for your date/interview, you plan out your outfit days in advance and practice what you’re going to talk about. You start to fantasize about what your life will be like together. You can already see how happy you’re going to be together.
Your interview is like the first date. You sit awkwardly, smiling stiffly and trying to remember all of the things you had written down to talk about. You try to read their body language. You try not to talk too much. You tell them what they want to hear.
Just like there are the guys you date because you have a parent or relative or friend who knows them, there are the interviews you go on because you have a parent or relative or friend who knows them. “Informational” interviews are the equivalent of the guys you’d really like to date, but who already have girlfriends. They’ll humor you for a while, but in the end, they just don’t have a place for you in their lives. There are jobs and guys who like you more than you like them. There are jobs and guys who you like more than they like you. Like most dates, most interviews end with someone promising to call someone sometime. And just like after most dates, after most interviews I immediately whip out my cell phone to tell my friends and family all about it.
And just like most dates, when you have a really good interview, you can’t help but get your hopes up. To explain the brokenheartedness I am dealing with right now over not getting a job I wanted, I will use the following metaphor. Let’s call the potential job in this case, Ollie.
Tara & Ollie: A Brief But Tragic Romance
I was really surprised when Ollie contacted me. I didn’t know Ollie. In fact, I had never even heard of him, but Ollie had gotten my number from a friend of his who I’d met but already had a girlfriend, and he asked me out. I was thrilled! Ollie sounded so great. He seemed like everything I could have wanted in a guy.
Ollie and I met in the city for our first date. I was really nervous going into it, but I shouldn’t have been. Ollie and I had an instant connection. He even told me I was everything he was looking for. We talked and laughed and at the end of our date, he said he had some work to take care of, but that he’d call me in a few weeks.
When I got home, I had an email from Ollie saying how great the date was. Naturally, I started dreaming of what my life would be like with Ollie. I even started to look for apartments so I could be closer to him. We were going to be so happy together.
Then my dreams came to a crashing halt on Friday when Ollie contacted me to tell me that he loved me, but he just couldn’t commit. There wasn’t anyone else, but he had come to the realization that there was too much going on in his life right now (he had some financial troubles), and he couldn’t commit to me, or anyone, until he sorted his problems out. He wanted me to know that it wasn’t me - I was great - it was just the timing.
Ollie broke my heart. I cried and cried. “I THOUGHT HE WAS THE ONE!” I wailed. “HE WAS SO PERFECT! I’LL NEVER FIND ANYONE LIKE HIM!” My friends and family tried to console me, but the visions I was having of being single in Gbury for the rest of my life were just too powerful. So, I ate a cannoli and cried myself to sleep.
The next day (today), I woke up feeling better, but then I remembered that Ollie didn’t want me, and I became depressed again. To get over my broken heart, I plan on staying busy and hitting the dating scene again ASAP. In the mean time, I’ll hope that Ollie has a cute friend he can pass my number along to.
But I can’t help but notice the likeness between the problem with my working life and the problem with my romantic life…
I JUST NEED SOMEONE WHO CAN COMMIT.
Love,
Tara
11:30 pm :'(
Interviewing and dating are two things I’ve been doing a lot of this summer. And now I have a theory that they are essentially the same thing. Allow me to explain…
Firstly, the joy you feel when you get asked to come in for an interview is the same as when a cute guy asks you out: You get the call from an unknown number. You answer, using your most mature, relaxed-but-not-too-relaxed voice. You arrange a time to meet, and hang up. Then you yell “YES!” and proceed to jump and twirl about the room because MAYBE THIS IS THE ONE!
To prepare for your date/interview, you plan out your outfit days in advance and practice what you’re going to talk about. You start to fantasize about what your life will be like together. You can already see how happy you’re going to be together.
Your interview is like the first date. You sit awkwardly, smiling stiffly and trying to remember all of the things you had written down to talk about. You try to read their body language. You try not to talk too much. You tell them what they want to hear.
Just like there are the guys you date because you have a parent or relative or friend who knows them, there are the interviews you go on because you have a parent or relative or friend who knows them. “Informational” interviews are the equivalent of the guys you’d really like to date, but who already have girlfriends. They’ll humor you for a while, but in the end, they just don’t have a place for you in their lives. There are jobs and guys who like you more than you like them. There are jobs and guys who you like more than they like you. Like most dates, most interviews end with someone promising to call someone sometime. And just like after most dates, after most interviews I immediately whip out my cell phone to tell my friends and family all about it.
And just like most dates, when you have a really good interview, you can’t help but get your hopes up. To explain the brokenheartedness I am dealing with right now over not getting a job I wanted, I will use the following metaphor. Let’s call the potential job in this case, Ollie.
Tara & Ollie: A Brief But Tragic Romance
I was really surprised when Ollie contacted me. I didn’t know Ollie. In fact, I had never even heard of him, but Ollie had gotten my number from a friend of his who I’d met but already had a girlfriend, and he asked me out. I was thrilled! Ollie sounded so great. He seemed like everything I could have wanted in a guy.
Ollie and I met in the city for our first date. I was really nervous going into it, but I shouldn’t have been. Ollie and I had an instant connection. He even told me I was everything he was looking for. We talked and laughed and at the end of our date, he said he had some work to take care of, but that he’d call me in a few weeks.
When I got home, I had an email from Ollie saying how great the date was. Naturally, I started dreaming of what my life would be like with Ollie. I even started to look for apartments so I could be closer to him. We were going to be so happy together.
Then my dreams came to a crashing halt on Friday when Ollie contacted me to tell me that he loved me, but he just couldn’t commit. There wasn’t anyone else, but he had come to the realization that there was too much going on in his life right now (he had some financial troubles), and he couldn’t commit to me, or anyone, until he sorted his problems out. He wanted me to know that it wasn’t me - I was great - it was just the timing.
Ollie broke my heart. I cried and cried. “I THOUGHT HE WAS THE ONE!” I wailed. “HE WAS SO PERFECT! I’LL NEVER FIND ANYONE LIKE HIM!” My friends and family tried to console me, but the visions I was having of being single in Gbury for the rest of my life were just too powerful. So, I ate a cannoli and cried myself to sleep.
The next day (today), I woke up feeling better, but then I remembered that Ollie didn’t want me, and I became depressed again. To get over my broken heart, I plan on staying busy and hitting the dating scene again ASAP. In the mean time, I’ll hope that Ollie has a cute friend he can pass my number along to.
But I can’t help but notice the likeness between the problem with my working life and the problem with my romantic life…
I JUST NEED SOMEONE WHO CAN COMMIT.
Love,
Tara
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