if you haven't read "Lindsay Says Yes" you totally should. there's a link to it in my "stuff i like, too" column. she's a great friend of mine, and she's the most thankful person for everything in the world. sometimes i have to remind her it's okay to feel feelings that aren't strictly gratitude. she wrote a list of things she was thankful for in 2010. as i venture into the terribly lame world of unemployment, i find myself both wanting and needing to be thankful for the little things. here's my top ten list of things i'm super thankful for recently (in no particular order):
1) my family: as i'm writing this blog, my sister is laying next to me and we are watching Craig Ferguson. we act really weird, but we think we're really funny and that's all that i really care about. it's as if we're on the drug known on the street as "Charlie Sheen." she's a pretty awesome sister for a bunch of reasons. she's extremely supportive of me and herself is a pretty amazing example of a heroperson. my parents are pretty great too. they help me navigate my 20s but leave the sea open to my own exploration. also my mom is really good at knowing when you need those little things like Valentine's Day cookies or to cry for no reason and my dad is good at dealing with my mom and sister's overexcitement at the Oscars and helping hang stuff up in my room. my family has been through a lot but now we're a big happy Taylor Swift song. even my extended family is superawesome. they are a much needed added flavor to life. both of my parents are one of seven, and my extended family extends love, light, and support really far with beaming cousins who radiate fresh energy and life and mindful, sincere aunts and uncles who respectfully interject their insights. friends; you're my family with a twist. it all applies, you're along for the ride in a different way.
2) manicures/pedicures/new shoes/wedding shows: i put these together because they all make me feel like a princess and i only have to spend about $20 or less on them. getting my nailz did usually involves a massaging chair and nail polish colors that look like the color scheme of a nine-year-old girl's room, unless that nine-year-old girl is me because my walls were covered in posters of the Bernie Williams and Paul O'Neill. also, my aforementioned awesome parents understand that being supportive means buying me some stuff when jobs don't work out (in addition to the manicure/pedicure). hello divine pink suede peep-toed shoes with a three inch that let's me stomp. it. out. sometimes, these things are just necessary. like the black pair sitting in the top of my dresser that i have yet to wear because there's been no occasion. this means i'll probably go over dressed to a comedy show or wear them around the apartment when i'm cleaning unnecessarily. after all the shit talking i did to Carrie Bradshaw in my previous post, i have to hand this one to her. i promise i won't be wearing a see thru shirt with a bright colored bra or a weird feather thing in my hair next time i'm out on the town desperately looking for men. i won't be doing either of those things ever actually. and wedding shows! what an amazing distraction. why yes, i do want to watch a bride with a subpar wedding pick out giant dresses shaped like pastries and a new cake and bridesmaids dresses and see the reception venue of a wedding i'm not going to. how am i so touched by the vows of people i don't know? oh wedding shows. thank you.
3) ZocDoc.com: oh my goodness i can make doctor's appointments and not call anyone?! thank you God and technology and doctors that are on this magical wonderinternetporthole. i have had more relationships with dermatologists than boyfriends in my life time, and the best one i've ever found in the whole wide world came from this site. i didn't even have to call anyone on the phone. they even remind you when your appointment is. it's like having a personal assistant for your appointments without all of that obnoxious human interaction (a deeply valued and underrated part of society but not in the context of doctor's appointment making). it's great because i'll never be important enough to have a personal assistant.
4) nature in nyc: i love outdoorsy things in New York City. it's like these misplaced pieces of nature that make total sense somehow. i went to Central Park, Prospect Park, and South Street Seaport spontaneously in the past 72 hours because not being in chaos sounded like a healthy thing to be doing and it so was. it's hard to feel like you aren't wasting time in New York City if you're not on your way to "be doing something" while also texting on your phone with one hand and carrying a Chai Tea Latte in the other. taking a naturebreather is the biggest not waste of time ever.
5) music: duh. this city is full of amazing music that not a lot of people know about. check out Hank and Cupcakes if you want to dance your ass off or Bryan Fenkart if you want to feel feelings. Bryan Fenkart was a writing God to me turned friend and WWE pay-per-view provider. i'm now on his management team. March 7-8 i get to stop by the recording booth and his second album/a bunch of my dreams unfold. megarad. other music i'm addicted to at the moment: frightened rabbit (my backwards walk is UHMAYZING), mumford & sons (duh), adele, the weakerthans, wakey wakey,virginia coalition, the weepies, eric hutchinson, anna nalick again), ari hest (always), band of horses, LCD Soundsystem, city and colour, fleet foxes, los campesinos, lisa jaeggi, matisyahu (coming the BK bowl), thriving ivory, brandi carlile, and the walkmen. to name some.
6) c.c. sabathia: my only pitching hope for the New York Yankees this year. 'nuff said.
7)reading and writing: writing is my favorite ever. i write about a lot of stuff like life and relationships and addiction and music and stuff, but i don't really write about writing. ca-thar-sis. boom. writing is super therapeutic. i try to write everyday--song lyrics, a blog, poetry--even just a sharply intentional sentence that might be used some day. writing rushes the emotional floodgates providing an unmatched release and unparalleled sensation. you can even write through emotions, driving your way through unknown forests of the mind and heart, arriving at destinations with conclusions you never would have sought otherwise. hey writing, thanks for being an art.
reading, i wish we had been friends longer. my parents always read to me when i was little, and i read as an adult, but i can't help but feel i'm still catching up on those in-between years where i viewed it as a chore when i was younger. i have a cousin who reads and reads (and reads and reads) and always has and will never stop. she's way cooler than i am in this regard, and can probably give you (and will give you) better recommendations than i ever could, but here is my top five within my top ten (my shirt before the shirt for you Jersey Shore fans).
1) anything by Kurt Vonnegut, particularly Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse V, or anything that has his name on the cover. show me a reader who doesn't like Vonnegut and i'll show you someone whose opinion is wrong. you probably didn't know opinions can be wrong, but come on. he's TOO good.
2) Sex, Drugs, and Cocoapuffs and/or IV: a decade of curious people and dangerous ideas. both have been nothing short of awesome. anything Klosterman seems to write is a solid choice but these two are my favorites. plus he talks about how he hates Rick Helling in "IV" and so do i.
3) This Is Your Brain on Music: this book is about the neuroscience behind music and it's amazing. i'm awful at science and hate it, but this book is awesome. read it. it's by Daniel J. Levitin and he's really smart.
4) Craig Ferguson: American on Purpose: this is so much more than a biography. it's the only account of anything that explains addiction to someone that isn't an addict or in the close circle of one. you're doing yourself a disservice not to read this book.
5) the curious incident of the dog in the night time: an awesome book by Mark Haddon written from the perspective of an autistic child. Haddon combines the struggles of every day life and the story line through this lens. it's pretty rad.
8) egyptian art: it's the most amazing, powerful art. i didn't appreciate how strong it was until i took an art course in college. go look at some at the Met and REALLY look at it. it's so different from any other time period with sharp lines and square edges and power stances. it's like they carved pharaohs doing power yoga or something. besides if you're board you can go play in the giant tomb at the Met or check out how they invented the wheel or something. while i'm discussing art, check out Alex Grey (www.alexgrey.com). free subscription to this blog if you aren't amazed/immediately want to get his work tatooed on your body somewhere.
9) horoscopes: okay i don't know if i believe they true. but i don't believe they 100% aren't so it's fun to look at them every day. i'm not going to live my life by them, but if they fit the life i live, then it's just fun to think about. it's like a fortune cookie without the $20 worth of Chinese food arriving way too fast. i can get mine tweeted to me every day, so why not? besides, i'm a Taurus and totally stubborn, so don't try to tell me they aren't true and that it's a waste of time.
10) dogs: i don't mean those little rats on a leash that dress better than i do and are being toted around in someone's Louis Vitton. i mean like a real dog! like a golden retriever or a bull dog or a huskey or those english sheepdogs that can't see. basset hounds are the only small dogs i really like because they have so much personality, but for the most part, give me a big dog. one that the E*TRADE baby would try to ride.
there's my top ten things i appreciate in life always, but am really feelin' right now. you've been gratituded.
-k.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 1
Monday, November 29
i love my dad so much it sounds like a taylor swift song.
line two.
my dad started working from home during the days of dial up internet service so we got a second phone line. i don't even know how, but i do know that one year during the holiday season i would call this second phone line from our first phone line and this would somehow trigger our downstairs stereo to gloriously awaken our whole household with the most over-the-top recording of Jingle Bells ever recorded. ever.
how can Jingle Bells be over the top you ask? i really don't know (or i have NO idea). i just know that it's very, very possible. the jewel case to this CD lay as just one bright shining star (Christmas pun vaguely intended) in a sky of ornament artwork and Santa tunes and tracks. my dad's selection of Christmas CDs to this day outweighs his any-other-time-of-the-year collection. (CDs are apparently these mini records that existed before mp3 players). if you find this irrational, you maybe be right. but you also may not know that these hours of Christmas music were entirely necessary. they were not only the sounds of the season, but the soundtrack that played behind the hours logged during the assembly of my dad's Christmas village. you may have seen these porcelain wonderlands in department stores or as restaurant decor. these villages may have looked defeated as my dad's probably DOMINATED it. my mom bought my dad a starter set, and a can opener for the can of worms that was about to be opened. the village has grown into a double decker venture, calling for an extension that my Papa built, and another later built by my dad. while many of you were out snagging the best of Black Friday deals, my dad was carefully calculating the layout of each building, pond, porcelain person, street post, and which color light bulb to use in the village church to give it a stained glass effect. he would mark these, mark the spotlights, install the lighting, and redeploy the figures to their appropriate spots all over a three day process. then, some blonde princess of a daughter would come in and sprinkle fake snow. over the years, i made various transitions to sprinkling snow from my dad's arm, to being tall enough to sprinkle from the piano bench, to being eye level and above. this wasn't the only transition we had to make.
our ring of fire started when i was in 7th grade, and Christmas that year became truly painful as my Nanny passed that December. pain rushed into a blur--one which did not include candy-canes or reindeer or many smiles really. troubles continued into the next year, and the following holiday season marked "the first one without Nanny." thankfully my dad is a rock of stability and also kind of an elf apparently. times were tough. there was sadness. there was pain. there was grieving. but there was also Christmas. what could have been a blackened yearly marker of loss was instead a beacon of light because of my dad's commitment to his family, the Holiday spirit, and one helluva a village. somehow, through all of the difficulty, he alone mustered up some semblance of celebration, even when the rest of his family couldn't, or just didn't want to.
my Papa had a working man's hands and i'll never forget them--he held all of us tight enough that it's impossible to. he taught my dad a lot of his handy work, a microcosm of which is shown tinkering in the village. i miss his quiet power and understated but always visible, unforgotten, and unwavering strength, even in the eyes of his own wife's passing, which came smack dab in the middle of the holiday season. i miss my Nanny and her ability to make the most ridiculously lofty dreams not only completely reasonable, but tangible. i miss their example of a many times tested marriage and their fearless demonstration of commitment to each other and their seven kids. i'm proud to see it in my own parents. i wish i appreciated all of this more when they were still here, but i am confident they see it now, especially as my sister tackles her acting career with her burning and fierce passion, and i try and set some of my words to music.
this Christmas the village remains in a cold but safe storage unit.this Thanksgiving, we watched pictures of village displays from years past scroll on our television as i ate with my Core Four family, a lovely guest of Lydia's and my thriving uncle, who i know my grandparents are looking down upon with pride.
i didn't get to write a Thanksgiving post. i'm always thankful for my family every day all year. i guess this year i'm just also really thankful for Christmas, and admittedly in recent years my electric bill has spiked because of my own absurd passion for Christmas lights.
watching Christmas unfold in the City (yeah, i'm one of THOSE new yorkers) makes Christmas a feeling as much of a Holiday. that's what my dad did when we didn't know what or how to feel in the midst of the pain. this year, we don't have to try. and though missing my Nanny and Papa and reflecting upon their absence can hurt, i am ever thankful that my dad ensured their would be clear memories of joy, too.
with a little help from the crew at Department 56.
-k.
----------------
Now playing: Taylor Swift - The Best Day
via FoxyTunes
my dad started working from home during the days of dial up internet service so we got a second phone line. i don't even know how, but i do know that one year during the holiday season i would call this second phone line from our first phone line and this would somehow trigger our downstairs stereo to gloriously awaken our whole household with the most over-the-top recording of Jingle Bells ever recorded. ever.
how can Jingle Bells be over the top you ask? i really don't know (or i have NO idea). i just know that it's very, very possible. the jewel case to this CD lay as just one bright shining star (Christmas pun vaguely intended) in a sky of ornament artwork and Santa tunes and tracks. my dad's selection of Christmas CDs to this day outweighs his any-other-time-of-the-year collection. (CDs are apparently these mini records that existed before mp3 players). if you find this irrational, you maybe be right. but you also may not know that these hours of Christmas music were entirely necessary. they were not only the sounds of the season, but the soundtrack that played behind the hours logged during the assembly of my dad's Christmas village. you may have seen these porcelain wonderlands in department stores or as restaurant decor. these villages may have looked defeated as my dad's probably DOMINATED it. my mom bought my dad a starter set, and a can opener for the can of worms that was about to be opened. the village has grown into a double decker venture, calling for an extension that my Papa built, and another later built by my dad. while many of you were out snagging the best of Black Friday deals, my dad was carefully calculating the layout of each building, pond, porcelain person, street post, and which color light bulb to use in the village church to give it a stained glass effect. he would mark these, mark the spotlights, install the lighting, and redeploy the figures to their appropriate spots all over a three day process. then, some blonde princess of a daughter would come in and sprinkle fake snow. over the years, i made various transitions to sprinkling snow from my dad's arm, to being tall enough to sprinkle from the piano bench, to being eye level and above. this wasn't the only transition we had to make.
our ring of fire started when i was in 7th grade, and Christmas that year became truly painful as my Nanny passed that December. pain rushed into a blur--one which did not include candy-canes or reindeer or many smiles really. troubles continued into the next year, and the following holiday season marked "the first one without Nanny." thankfully my dad is a rock of stability and also kind of an elf apparently. times were tough. there was sadness. there was pain. there was grieving. but there was also Christmas. what could have been a blackened yearly marker of loss was instead a beacon of light because of my dad's commitment to his family, the Holiday spirit, and one helluva a village. somehow, through all of the difficulty, he alone mustered up some semblance of celebration, even when the rest of his family couldn't, or just didn't want to.
my Papa had a working man's hands and i'll never forget them--he held all of us tight enough that it's impossible to. he taught my dad a lot of his handy work, a microcosm of which is shown tinkering in the village. i miss his quiet power and understated but always visible, unforgotten, and unwavering strength, even in the eyes of his own wife's passing, which came smack dab in the middle of the holiday season. i miss my Nanny and her ability to make the most ridiculously lofty dreams not only completely reasonable, but tangible. i miss their example of a many times tested marriage and their fearless demonstration of commitment to each other and their seven kids. i'm proud to see it in my own parents. i wish i appreciated all of this more when they were still here, but i am confident they see it now, especially as my sister tackles her acting career with her burning and fierce passion, and i try and set some of my words to music.
this Christmas the village remains in a cold but safe storage unit.this Thanksgiving, we watched pictures of village displays from years past scroll on our television as i ate with my Core Four family, a lovely guest of Lydia's and my thriving uncle, who i know my grandparents are looking down upon with pride.
i didn't get to write a Thanksgiving post. i'm always thankful for my family every day all year. i guess this year i'm just also really thankful for Christmas, and admittedly in recent years my electric bill has spiked because of my own absurd passion for Christmas lights.
watching Christmas unfold in the City (yeah, i'm one of THOSE new yorkers) makes Christmas a feeling as much of a Holiday. that's what my dad did when we didn't know what or how to feel in the midst of the pain. this year, we don't have to try. and though missing my Nanny and Papa and reflecting upon their absence can hurt, i am ever thankful that my dad ensured their would be clear memories of joy, too.
with a little help from the crew at Department 56.
-k.
----------------
Now playing: Taylor Swift - The Best Day
via FoxyTunes
Friday, September 17
lessons learned from moving.
for mom, dad, and Lydia
as t --> infinity.
the audible creek from our old wooden kitchen floor lulled slow and steady as i swayed back and forth with my dad holding me tight and dancing. i harked back to the countless times my dad and i danced, remembering when i was waist high and standing on his toes and we'd slowly rotate. that was about 15 years and two feet ago. rotating now from our makeshift dance floor, the viewpoint yields an empty refrigerator, once flooding with photos, and a cold, blank wooden door, once plastered with childhood artwork.
my mom always says that Binghamton gave us roots and that moving onto New Jersey and New York City gave us wings. preserving consistency with the metaphor, i asked my mom how she felt about branching out from these roots, which have been home for my entire life and longer. she said that she feels as though we've gotten all of the home out of this house.
my parents did the snowbird gimmick for a while and flew to Florida to escape the harsh Binghamton winter cold and gray skies. this was particularly awesome for me because the Yankees spring training happens to be in said state. i remember my dad and i unsuccessfully trying to dodge Florida traffic late after i landed at the Tampa airport. we finally arrived at their Lakeland apartment, and my mom's mission was to organize our endless pile of photographs scattered about the floor. it was then that my mom first made mention of not staying in Binghamton too much longer, and i told her home was wherever she and my dad were.
the house has been on the market for about a year. apparently the economy and housing market aren't so great or something. coincidentally it was about a year ago that 124 Rosedale made its home-to-house transformation. we've been ready, and my parents have been up for an adventure, intending to sublet in New York City, our now collective wings, until the end of the year, and once again escape to Florida for the winter.
selling the house has taught me a lot. it taught me that HGTV is all you really need to sell a house. it taught me that when a baseball obsession starts inside the heart of a blonde thirdgrader adorned in navy blue pinstripes, it grows into a collection 14 t-shirts, (after already seceding at least nine to bedbugs) and over 30 issues of Yankee magazine. it taught me that sifting through your childhood still instills the feeling that your older sister is SO cool. it taught me that three women can collect a LOT of unnecessary crap. it taught me that my dad had longish hair once?! it taught me that horseback riding results in some gorgeous pictures. it taught me that swim team had too many ribbons, and every other sport has too many trophies. it taught me that the lens of a camera takes a very different picture than when viewed through the lens of an adult eye. it reminded me that Mrs. Juriewicz was such a good teacher i didn't hate math. it reminded me that my dad always pitched or coached my softball league. always. it proved further that the sensitivity of my mother's heart outweighs her body, and that my family clung to my dad's amazing strength in hard times for a reason, and that i will forever feed off of it. it showed me even more that my parent's marriage has lasted over 32 years because it's an example of marriage in it's purest form.
growth was the best lesson. personal growth is frequently evaluated by the wise, but considering the growth of a unit is underestimated. a significant marker for my family is coming up on Saturday, and our house closes on Monday. i've been thinking about where we were as a group even less than five years ago. right now, my family has the blessing of coasting. we all wake up and go to bed with smiles on our faces. what happens during the day has been good news or status quo. what was once navigating tricky traumas and waves of pain has faded to smooth sailing through calm waters and tranquil seas. the other side of pain has proven worth it. it's hard to believe that there is light as the end of the tunnel when you can't see it, or it's arresting you in blinding pain. but it's there. adolescence forces your relationships to grow because you are growing into yourself. with self-discovery comes the definition of relationships outside of yourself, especially with those who you see you every day and love you anyway.
when you are around 5 your parents are your all knowing guide and ultimate source of sustainability. when you are around 15 your parents are wrong, or they are right but suck because they aren't right in the way that you are right. when you are around 25, your parents go from being mommy and daddy to mom and dad, still serving as a compass for direction but with the filter of adulthood. it's fun to see your parents grow. i don't know if my parents would fulfill the freedom that they have. i don't know if they'd have the courage or desire for a trial run in Manhattan five years ago. i don't know if they would throw caution to the wind, assuredly a well thought out, carefully plotted throw, but a throw none the less. i don't know if they'd eat through the rhythm of life the way that they are. seeing your parents grow is a fantastically fun realization; we don't always give them enough credit for this. they are your parents. the are supposed to be completely developed and infallible; that's why their mistakes hit with a crucial punch and land with disbelief. my parents have done something amazing. my parents have planted "home" inside of us as individuals, but also created a thread of continuity that runs through all of us.
the YES network over hyped the concept of the "Core Four" this post season, noting the four Yankees that have weathered the ups and downs of Yankee years since 1996, including five world series victories. they completely sweep the fact that andy pettitte left under the rug--ah, the benefits of having your own network. my sister would joke that the Core Four were like the cool kids' lunch table and that they were reading Eat. Pray. Love. in the Core Four book club. now, we refer to ourselves as the Core Four, though our core is a little more solid than contract negotiations and aging careers. every family starts as wide-eyed rookies--life is a new role as children or parents. hopefully, if you grow enough together, you get to enjoy the championships, and can manage when the best pitcher in post season history blows a save. in the bottom of the 9th. in game 7. of the WORLD SERIES. life can be hard.
the inside of my parents wedding rings read "as time goes to infinity." this has been tried, tested, and is true.
i'm just glad we have more staying power the Core Four South Paw.
-k.
as t --> infinity.
the audible creek from our old wooden kitchen floor lulled slow and steady as i swayed back and forth with my dad holding me tight and dancing. i harked back to the countless times my dad and i danced, remembering when i was waist high and standing on his toes and we'd slowly rotate. that was about 15 years and two feet ago. rotating now from our makeshift dance floor, the viewpoint yields an empty refrigerator, once flooding with photos, and a cold, blank wooden door, once plastered with childhood artwork.
my mom always says that Binghamton gave us roots and that moving onto New Jersey and New York City gave us wings. preserving consistency with the metaphor, i asked my mom how she felt about branching out from these roots, which have been home for my entire life and longer. she said that she feels as though we've gotten all of the home out of this house.
my parents did the snowbird gimmick for a while and flew to Florida to escape the harsh Binghamton winter cold and gray skies. this was particularly awesome for me because the Yankees spring training happens to be in said state. i remember my dad and i unsuccessfully trying to dodge Florida traffic late after i landed at the Tampa airport. we finally arrived at their Lakeland apartment, and my mom's mission was to organize our endless pile of photographs scattered about the floor. it was then that my mom first made mention of not staying in Binghamton too much longer, and i told her home was wherever she and my dad were.
the house has been on the market for about a year. apparently the economy and housing market aren't so great or something. coincidentally it was about a year ago that 124 Rosedale made its home-to-house transformation. we've been ready, and my parents have been up for an adventure, intending to sublet in New York City, our now collective wings, until the end of the year, and once again escape to Florida for the winter.
selling the house has taught me a lot. it taught me that HGTV is all you really need to sell a house. it taught me that when a baseball obsession starts inside the heart of a blonde thirdgrader adorned in navy blue pinstripes, it grows into a collection 14 t-shirts, (after already seceding at least nine to bedbugs) and over 30 issues of Yankee magazine. it taught me that sifting through your childhood still instills the feeling that your older sister is SO cool. it taught me that three women can collect a LOT of unnecessary crap. it taught me that my dad had longish hair once?! it taught me that horseback riding results in some gorgeous pictures. it taught me that swim team had too many ribbons, and every other sport has too many trophies. it taught me that the lens of a camera takes a very different picture than when viewed through the lens of an adult eye. it reminded me that Mrs. Juriewicz was such a good teacher i didn't hate math. it reminded me that my dad always pitched or coached my softball league. always. it proved further that the sensitivity of my mother's heart outweighs her body, and that my family clung to my dad's amazing strength in hard times for a reason, and that i will forever feed off of it. it showed me even more that my parent's marriage has lasted over 32 years because it's an example of marriage in it's purest form.
growth was the best lesson. personal growth is frequently evaluated by the wise, but considering the growth of a unit is underestimated. a significant marker for my family is coming up on Saturday, and our house closes on Monday. i've been thinking about where we were as a group even less than five years ago. right now, my family has the blessing of coasting. we all wake up and go to bed with smiles on our faces. what happens during the day has been good news or status quo. what was once navigating tricky traumas and waves of pain has faded to smooth sailing through calm waters and tranquil seas. the other side of pain has proven worth it. it's hard to believe that there is light as the end of the tunnel when you can't see it, or it's arresting you in blinding pain. but it's there. adolescence forces your relationships to grow because you are growing into yourself. with self-discovery comes the definition of relationships outside of yourself, especially with those who you see you every day and love you anyway.
when you are around 5 your parents are your all knowing guide and ultimate source of sustainability. when you are around 15 your parents are wrong, or they are right but suck because they aren't right in the way that you are right. when you are around 25, your parents go from being mommy and daddy to mom and dad, still serving as a compass for direction but with the filter of adulthood. it's fun to see your parents grow. i don't know if my parents would fulfill the freedom that they have. i don't know if they'd have the courage or desire for a trial run in Manhattan five years ago. i don't know if they would throw caution to the wind, assuredly a well thought out, carefully plotted throw, but a throw none the less. i don't know if they'd eat through the rhythm of life the way that they are. seeing your parents grow is a fantastically fun realization; we don't always give them enough credit for this. they are your parents. the are supposed to be completely developed and infallible; that's why their mistakes hit with a crucial punch and land with disbelief. my parents have done something amazing. my parents have planted "home" inside of us as individuals, but also created a thread of continuity that runs through all of us.
the YES network over hyped the concept of the "Core Four" this post season, noting the four Yankees that have weathered the ups and downs of Yankee years since 1996, including five world series victories. they completely sweep the fact that andy pettitte left under the rug--ah, the benefits of having your own network. my sister would joke that the Core Four were like the cool kids' lunch table and that they were reading Eat. Pray. Love. in the Core Four book club. now, we refer to ourselves as the Core Four, though our core is a little more solid than contract negotiations and aging careers. every family starts as wide-eyed rookies--life is a new role as children or parents. hopefully, if you grow enough together, you get to enjoy the championships, and can manage when the best pitcher in post season history blows a save. in the bottom of the 9th. in game 7. of the WORLD SERIES. life can be hard.
the inside of my parents wedding rings read "as time goes to infinity." this has been tried, tested, and is true.
i'm just glad we have more staying power the Core Four South Paw.
-k.
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