The Rest Is Still Unwritten

An Open Letter to Vegas

thebadwife — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 21:53:01 +0000

Dear Vegas,

I love you very much. I love your cheap entertainments, and obnoxiously large portions of food, and your unwillingness to ever sleep. I love how everything is huge, and tacky, and cheesy, I love Area 51, and Wedding Chapel Row, I love the seedy underbelly attempting to be disguised by glitter. I love that Vegas has all the glitz, but none of the glamour.

I wish we could have known one another in the good old days, I have a feeling we would have been fast friends, and I know you would have made me famous.

Till we meet again, I will see you in my dreams.

Another weekend….gone too fast

thebadwife — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 17:54:51 +0000

I am so tired today/ possibly more tired than usual. I am not entirely sure why, I didn’t do a whole lot this weekend, at least not more than usual. But I think it is a combination of a crazy week previous, along with working on Friday, I so love getting having Fridays off, and when I have to work one I feel very put out. Aside from that I am also feeling apprehension about leaving my boy and heading to Vegas for the week with my friend A. I am so concerned I am going to miss something, it is a little taxing. But between my husband and our very dear friends they promise all will be well, so I should ditch the guilt and to worry and just have fun. I am working on it.

Anyway last week I went twice to the movies, once with my mother and sister in law and once with Carly. I saw the Help (again) STILL SOOO GOOD, and Carly and I saw Young Adult, which was not what I expected which ended up being a pleasant surprise. We had a house guest for the weekend, and we took in a movie, I hosted a breakfast in the early morning hours Saturday with 8 friends, followed by a visit with another couple with a tour of their new home, then off to a birthday party, and home to watch the Miss America Pageant. (Priceless) Sunday we had brunch with my mother in law then a friend and I took Brighton to a hockey game.

Tonight I have to pack, and plan, and clean…working tomorrow then straight to the airport VIVA LAS VEGAS!

VIVA….

thebadwife — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 02:04:29 +0000

We meet again….

in 14 days….

: IN THIS HOTEL

With my super fabulous friend ATHENA! Pumped…and beyond.

A new year!

thebadwife — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 00:11:54 +0000

Christmas came and went. It was amazing, and hard all at the same time. I have no idea what was missing this year, but something was. Regardless, not dwelling on the past I fully intend on fixing that for next year to make it everything it once was and more. THat is not to say it did not have wonderful and amazing moments, because it absolutely and completely did…a whole ton of them infact. It was full of joy and love, and goodness, and family, and fun, and eating, WAY TOO MUCH eating. But for me, this year I was more focused on getting to the new year thanI was basking in the Christmas glow. So some small part of me was rushing through it so we could hurry up and get to the next thing. which I now regret, just a little.

DIGRESS.

What else is new? Besides the year? We rang in 2K12 with C&C in Montana, amoungst heaping piles of new clothes, Sonic Drive throughs, and the hickest of all hick town bars. It was memerable, and epic.

Now we are home, and the new year filled with promises, and goals, and fresh, white newness is already 3 days old. Nothing much has changed, I don’t think. I feel different though, I feel changed. for the better. But really honestly in an overnight sensation sort of way. its a feeling that makes me think just maybe I could accomplish all of my resolutions this year, and I suspect that is because I never actually set any, which in turn makes me want to. But I won’t, I will however tell you about the amazing project Carly and I are working on:

http://amonthatatime.tumblr.com

Yup, sweet goodness.

In other news my husband rocks except when he doesn’t, my children are perfect except when they’re not, and I am living the dream, not buts there…just another day in paradise. I really do love my life, year after year it really does get better. And I am so increadibly greatful.

Just Because

thebadwife — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 21:34:04 +0000

Smile at people who take your money in stores, whether they smile back or not.

Skip the token advice. Let them talk it out.

Buy the red one.

Accept that you won’t really be teaching that driver a lesson.

Add a genuine thank you at the end of an email when someone does something for you, even when it’s their responsibility.

Squeeze the hand you’re holding.

Get out on the dance floor first.

Don’t point out how bad those pants look. They didn’t wear them to bug you.

Listen to that great song twice. Or 100 times.

Remember your tone of voice and speak with kindness.

Be on time.

Own your mistake, even if you could ambiguously leave it on someone else’s plate.

Carry your favorite candy always.

Take what you dish out.

Offer your seat to someone who looks more tired than you, regardless of their age or gender.

Bring something great to a friend’s party, not just a re-gift of what someone brought to yours.

Take pictures of sunsets, and sunrises.

Feel the Christmas Spirit, and spread it.

Ask someone how they are — truly are — and listen to the answer, whether or not they ask you the same question in return.

Hold the elevator door. Don’t pretend you don’t see them.

Do the chore before you’re asked, without pointing it out for credit.

Enjoy things unironically.

Have dessert without letting everyone at the table know how guilty you feel for doing it.

Laugh at even the lame jokes.

Extend grace.

The five BEST Christmas songs!

thebadwife — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 20:42:26 +0000

(First I would like to say, that it is very difficult to just pick 5. But, alas, I will try…)

I remember years ago hearing a choir perform Handel’s Messiah and when the big finale of the Hallelujah chorus came, I flat out burst into tears. Like, streaming down my cheeks. I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the way their voices blended and soared that I pretty much turned into a blubbering mess. Rock, rock on, I say.

“I’ll Be Home For Christmas” is a fabulous standard with a fierce emotional connection for me. I remember hearing it playing while watching a Christmas special right after 9/11 showing soldiers reuniting, or sending messages to their families from over seas where they were fighting on the front lines. Being with my family at Christmas is an absolute necessity for me, and I was overwhelmed once again at the sacrifice these brave men and women along with their families were making. It is hard to know, that not all of those soldiers, those fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, husband, wives, sons, and daughters, would ever be home for Christmas again, “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams”

Mel Torme singing “The Christmas Song”. Smoothness.

O holy night, sung by anyone EXCEPT Mariah Carey. But especially sung by my Grandfather, a great man, who loved music, and died too young, my grandma will say. And the memory of him singing this song, is one my Grandmother holds tight to, and when we sing it for her I can see her eyes well up. It moves her. It moves me.

I like pretty much anything from the Alabama Christmas album. Hey, I know, it’s a little random, but it is a family tradition. It grows on you. Give it time people. Give it time.

The five BEST things about Christmas

thebadwife — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 20:39:53 +0000

Christmas decorations. Everywhere. In malls, at home, in trees on the street, at the local coffee shop. Trees and glitter, and presents and Christmas-y things. The red Christmas cups at Starbucks, filled with special Christmas-y drinks!

Family. Family. Family. Friends included in Family. Especially My Children, and my brother on Christmas morning!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE

I really love listening to Christmas music. I also really love to SING Christmas songs, just saying. I can bring the Christmas tunes. Especially when I am cleaning the bathroom. Showers are acoustic wonderlands. And of course along these lines, one of my most important and exciting Christmas Traditions Singing at The Lodge. I love performing there year after year. I love how much my Grandmother loves it. I love sharing that moment with her.

Christmas movies. My favorites are White Christmas, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, It’s a Wonderful Life, and pretty much all other Christmas movies. Even ones involving Tim Allen. The cool Christmas-y stuff negates the Tim Allen-ness.

The Christmas Story, The Birth of Christ, it gets lost in the many other aspects of the season, or so we think, but, not really. The feeling is there, in the precious memories we make with our families, the spirit is there in the tender moments shared with the ones we love most, and the ones we don’t know at all. In the giving, and the receiving, in the sharing of joy and of pain. In the time spent cherishing all we have after a wave of grief and acknowledgement of those who have less. In all our kind words, and unselfish gestures, in the love we share, it is there.

15 for Monday

thebadwife — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 22:14:35 +0000

I like skies almost as much as mountains right now. But not as much as oceans.

“Gorgeous” is one of my favorite words, ever. Also? “Reprehensible.”

I never dream, but I always wake up envious of those who do.

When I get an email at work signed off with “Cheers!” I always assume the person who sent it is working on his 3^rd pint of Guiness, and is 10 minutes away from dancing a jig on the bar top to an Irish Rovers song. I may also picture the person resembling a leprechaun.

I look stronger in black and white.

When I handwrite things, I tend to go too quickly and leave letters out. Is this how shorthand was invented?

I like hugging freshly-printed documents… so warm and clean and new! Like… paper kittens.

I am exceptionally skilled at dealing with my own heartbreak. I wish I could tell the 22-year old me that we’d get better at it as time went on, but I have a feeling that would have made her cry. “What? We get more of this?”

I am tired of the sound of my own complaining.

I’m going to buy the new boots the week.

Pigeons are bloody loud.

If you’re going to make anyone cry, it should be Barbara Walters. She’s got it coming.

I can’t handle people who think they have me all figured out.

I have come to the conclusion that I am the only person who cares about the length of my hair.

My eyes are my best quality. Including the ones in the back of my head.

Steer Clear

thebadwife — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 21:31:01 +0000

Oh my goodness.

SO Grumpy.

Really.

Deep, dark malaise from the corners of my soul.

Bad mood. Scorchingly bad. And things keep going haywire around me. Fortunately, I have LOVELY co-workers, and so I am ALSO buffeted all around me by waves of sympathy and joy.

Not that this is de-scorching me. But they swear they can’t tell I’m in a bad mood at all.

Okay, okay. I’m done.

And in other news: No, no, I just deleted what I was going to say. It was a horrible rant about certain people, and I probably would have offended MYSELF with the viciousness. It’s best to learn to cut down on the opinions when you are having a craptastic day.

Right?

If not, stay tuned. Opinions may be forthcoming?

(Editor’s note: Everything I am going through is not .0001% as bad as what most people go through. I know. I just wanted to rant.)

Reposting a blog entry that could have very literally been written by me, word for word

thebadwife — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 23:50:32 +0000

Don’t Touch My Christmas Music, You Big Grinch

Nov. 29, 2011

By Chelsea Fagan

Chelsea is a student and writer living in Paris.

Read more »

Thanksgiving is over. By any and all standards accepted in modern society, now is the appropriate time to start listening to it. I’ll be honest, I usually start during my Thanksgiving preparations, but to each his own. If I get on the boat a little bit early, that doesn’t mean it’s not stopping to pick you up a few days later. And now, the Christmas music era, if you will, is truly the greatest time of all.

As I write this, I’m listening to Billy Gilman (you remember, the blonde child singer-prodigy, essentially the singing version of the little kid from Jerry Maguire) singing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” and it is the sonic incarnation of pure happiness. What music other than this is so shamelessly peppy, happy, child-like, and steeped in its own delightful overproduction? None, that’s what. This is the kind of music that one just smiles and nods to as they listen to it. Everyone — from Celine to Whitney to Barbara to Frank to Dean — has their own chipper version of every song, and each one is more wonderful than the last. Don’t like this cover of “Winter Wonderland?” Fear not, there exist 103982308432823 others to take its place in your heart.

And everywhere, from the grocery store to the skating ring, is playing these adorable songs. Everywhere you go becomes a delightful little holiday moment, everywhere just makes you want to eskimo kiss under some mistletoe while wearing a scarf and believing deeply in Santa Claus. It is, if you’ll allow me the reference, the most wonderful time of the year.

But then there are those terrible, horrible people who spend the Christmas season in a pouty, Grinch-y state of discontent as they bemoan every song they hear. “It’s non-stop” they say, “it’s everywhere.” Good, I think. And frankly, is it so hard to have one measly month a year in which songs are about loving your neighbor and being happy for what you have? If you can honestly listen to Frank Sinatra singing “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” and think, “Turn that crap off. It’s offending my ears,” you are a terrible person. That is the litmus test of a good person, and you have failed. Congratulations.

I cannot tell you the number of times people have chastised me for playing the music of the season, asking me if I didn’t get “enough” of it in shopping malls (as if there could be such a thing as “enough”). I would like to take this moment to tell those people, collectively, go away. Wham! and I are going to be talking about giving our heart to someone special this year, and you can sit in the corner and listen to your sad summer music and hate happiness.

And, if you get a big lump of coal in your stocking this year, I will be completely indifferent.