for the ages

i found out on Saturday afternoon at a bridal shower in New Jersey that Paul Newman had died. i was stunned. i had heard the cancer rumors a few months ago, but had forgotten. it wasn't that i'd seen all of his movies or was some sort of fervent fan. but if your vision is decent and you have air in your lungs, it's impossible not to like Paul Newman. i can't think of too many actors today who seem as nice, normal and down-to-earth as he did.

and then, of course, there's his marriage to Joanne Woodward.

i saw a clip of an old interview on the Today show this morning, during which Joanne spoke about her relationship with Paul. i really believe it was one for the ages. to me, they exuded grace. (you know how i feel about grace.) they also seemed to have such an ease together - just a comfortable, sweet, not-a-doubt-in-the-world ease that i think is extremely rare to achieve, extremely rare to hold onto.

but then something Joanne said in the interview that made me smile. this is how it went:

Joanne: “Somebody once said: ‘what is your relationship based on?' And I said, he’s very good looking and sexy and all of those things but all that goes out the window and what is finally left is, if you can make somebody laugh, then that’s important.”

Paul: “And I keep her laughing…”

Joanne: “And he sure does keep me laughing.”

she's right. and maybe i'm lame, maybe i'm weird, but i was really happy this morning to realize that i knew that she was right, that i know how that feels, that maybe their love for the ages wasn't quite so mysterious or unattainable. Paul himself said once that "correct amounts of lust and respect" was the key to their success. sometimes love really is that simple.

rest in peace, Paul Newman.

mb

catching up, saying goodbye

i have been meaning to write for a solid week. i can't believe it's Sunday night again. as i write, i'm catching up on the premier of "Grey's" that i missed Thursday night (so nice to see Bernadette Peters again, so annoying that Meredith is still obsessing over love and relationships).

today is the last day of the regular baseball season. exactly a week ago i was on my parents' couch with my dad, watching the last-ever game at Yankee Stadium. we watched the pre-game ceremony, actual game, and post-game hoopla with and it was really amazing. there were many times i just wanted to sob, but i did my best to keep a hold of myself.

except, of course, when Bernie Williams came out. that was an incredible moment. all night i was feeling a mix of nostalgia and joy (that i've been lucky enough to experience so many great Yankee moments) and sadness. but when it was all over, i didn't feel at all depressed, which is what i'd been expecting. i felt a little relieved (it had been a lot of anticipation) and happiness (because they won, they went out the right way).

come April, i know i'll feel differently. i'm betting i won't be able to get any tickets to any home games next season, and while that might be a good thing (i'm not sure i want to go there), it's going to take some getting used to. i feel like the Yanks won't belong to me anymore (and fans like me), they'll belong to rich people who don't give a crap about them.

in the meantime, i'm just going to enjoy the fact that today Moose got his 20th win and that there's no way the Yanks would've gotten past the Angels anyway, so missing the postseason isn't really that bad. the team needs time to get back to its roots, back to being a real team (not just a catch-all for non-clutch all-stars).

anyway. it's rare that i go into any October feeling stress-free. i don't want to make a habit out of it, but for this year at least, i'm going to enjoy it.

mb

AWOL

damn. i was in a good rhythm there for, oh, a week—updating my blog regularly. now i'm pissing everyone off with my writer's block. i'm sorry! my head's been all over the map this week and i haven't felt focused enough to write anything intelligent, insightful or witty.  

i do have a partially-written draft saved about my experience at my company's fashion show last Friday, but have felt uninspired to finish it. (basically i freaked out for three weeks about what to wear and what would go wrong—scenes of Ugly Betty danced in my head—but then it wound up being pretty amazing and trauma-free. and i got a front row seat, by some cosmic mix-up. i definitely felt cool and glamorous... for five minutes.) 

in other news, i've still been hardcore about going to the gym every morning and feel proud of myself for it. it's getting darker and darker at 6 am, yet after about 30 seconds of denial that it's actually morning already, i get myself out of bed and dressed and on my way to the gym. the only other people out and about at that hour are dog owners. so it's me with my Red Bull walking amongst them and their collection of pups. it's sort of funny. anyway, i forgot how much i used to love going to the gym regularly. i'm glad i'm back. especially because i hosted a little shindig at my apartment last Friday for the girls and it was Dolch's birthday so i baked a butter cake from scratch and made my own dark chocolate frosting. we each had a piece that night, and i sent them all home with cake doggy bags, but there was still a big chunk left on my cake plate, more than a quarter of the cake for sure. by Sunday afternoon it was all gone. i should have just thrown it away, i know, but i also know that i would've gone diving into the trash can five minutes later trying to salvage it because i am not the kind of girl who throws away dessert. 

anyway. i would have felt very bad about myself and all the weekend cake gorging if it weren't for my newly reestablished gym habit. (that was the point of that anecdote.)

and speaking of the weekend, i DVRd SNL while i was out Saturday night and watched the Palin/Clinton skit as soon as i woke up Sunday morning. it exceeded my already-high expectations. it was perfect. i wish someone would put Tina Fey and Amy Poehler on the ballot for chrissakes. i seriously think i would vote for them. they seem much smarter (and are definitely funnier) than any current candidate. and they probably understand the economy just as well. 

wait, let me stop here. i can't even think about politics right now without feeling rageful. 

so let's go from rageful to woeful. you've probably heard that Yankee Stadium is two days away from being a former ballpark. i'd sort of shoved the everything related to the Yanks to the recesses of my brain because this season has just been too painful and disappointing to deal with consciously. but today, because it's all over the news—and because i found out my Uncle Mark and cousin Scott will be there Sunday night for the last game—i'm thinking about it again, and feeling sad. to me, right now, the new Stadium feels like yet another thing wrong with the world, another manifestation of corporate greed. apparently there's controversy over exactly who's been paying for this ridiculously priced new stadium (which i think looks cold and too museum-like for a real ballpark) and yesterday online i saw elaborate illustrations of all the new park's various suites. one word comes to mind: excessive. and another word: unnecessary. 

so, yeah. i'm sad. i'm sad to lose the Stadium. and i'm sad i'll never be inside it again. i think i'll probably cry Sunday night watching the game on ESPN. sometimes there is crying in baseball. 

OK. that's all the random thoughts i can stuff into one entry at the moment. hope they suffice. enjoy the last weekend of summer. Christmas decorations will be available in all major stores on Monday.

mb

candidates—they're just like US!

every morning for the last few weeks, i've been getting up early to go to the gym. (even more ridiculous—i'm enjoying it.) i'm usually still on the elliptical machine for the first 10 minutes of the Today show, which means i get my daily dose of inane political news and irrelevant poll results. 

this morning's edition really knocked my socks off. 

maybe you've heard that McCain's people are outraged because Obama dared to use, when referring to McCain's campaign, a very common saying regarding a pig in lipstick. the people are outraged, you see, because Sarah Palin referenced a pit bull in lipstick in her speech last week and apparently now no one else can reference lipstick and animals in the same sentence without implying that she is that animal, too. 

naturally.

the way i see it, even if Obama was trying to compare Palin to a pig, that's far less insulting than the pit bull reference she used on herself. hello! pit bills are not very cute and most are trained to rip things (animals, people, couches) apart maniacally with their big scary teeth. pigs, on the other hand—what's not to love? did we learn nothing from Charlotte and her web of SAT words? radiant! humble! magnificent! 

moving on to the plethora of polls... there are literally at least five ambiguous polls each morning that i swear are made up but nevertheless reported as IMPORTANT NEWS! this morning, one poll was showing a several-point bump Sarah Palin has ostensibly given John McCain among female voters between the ages of 18 and 39 or some such thing. Palin is apparently drawing enormous crowds to McCain's appearances, so much so that McCain may never again appear without her. 

it sounded a lot like how it was for Obama not very long ago. and then i realized: we are a culture brainwashed by US Weekly. we go crazy for the Hot New Person on the scene. our passion for Mr. or Ms. Hot New Thang burns, oh how it burns, and we'll do anything for more information, more dirt, more sound bites, an embarrassing telephoto glimpse here and there. 

and then, four days later, we find someone new to obsess over. someone fresh! exciting! and absolutely not old and/or wrinkly! (you never see, say, Clint Eastwood or Cloris Leachman in US Weekly. the only reason Helen Mirren got in that one time was because she wore a bikini and had more muscles than wrinkles, god bless her.) 

anyway. clearly this US Weekly way of life has spread to the presidential election. and, dismayed as i am by the troves of women who are seemingly enamored of Palin simply because she has ovaries (and sounds like Frances McDormand in Fargo?) i decided this morning that this too shall pass. 

i predict that well before Election Day finally arrives, America will have moved on to the Next Amazing Thing or So Salacious Story (perhaps Miley Cyrus will opt for a sex change or Brad Pitt will find a way to get himself pregnant) and no one will give a hoot who gets elected. 

unless, of course, US Weekly does a Who Wore It Best: Election Day edition. 

mb

eight years

if someone had told me a year ago that a year from then i'd be writing this particular entry, i would have said..."yeah, i know."

eight years ago today i had a dinner party at my crappy apartment in Ridgefield Park, New Jersey. i made a dummy-proof pasta salad and probably chocolate chip cookies for dessert. after consuming a large amount of wine (and being nudged by some friends) i kissed the lone guy at the dinner party. Michael. who i'd known since sophomore year of college, who i'd sparred with constantly over everything from the endless quarters he asked to "borrow" from me so he could do his laundry to the cherished Ben Folds Five CD of his that somehow went missing. (i confessed to "borrowing" it...years later.)

the kiss that night in my apartment was just for fun, i told myself, just a silly experiment. it wouldn't be anything more than a drunken moment we'd laugh and make jokes about later.

i couldn't have been more wrong.

when you think about it, in the grand scheme of things, eight years isn't very long. just 10 percent of the average person's life. but, when you think about it some more, eight years is the amount of time most people spend in high school and college. and when you think of all the changes that occur between freshman year in high school and senior year of college, eight years suddenly seems like a significant span of time.

my relationship with Michael has been that kind of eight years. it's not that my dinner party feels that long ago or that these eight years have dragged on. to the contrary, they seem to have passed in the blink of an eye.

it just feels like i was a different person back then, at my dinner party. hell, it feels like i was a different person each year between then and now. i think i have done more learning in the last eight years than any other time in my life. and i'm such a better person for it.

Michael and i have grown up together - literally and figuratively. there were many things we did the hard way, bad decisions, stress and angst. but there are many things we've done right, more things we've done right than not, otherwise we wouldn't be celebrating eight years today.

we weren't actually really together a year ago. (it's a long story you can find starting here.) but almost exactly a year ago, give or take a couple weeks, i woke up one morning knowing with absolute certainty that we belonged together. it didn't make sense to me at the time, i felt a little nuts for even thinking it, but the feeling stayed there, this nugget of faith lodged in my chest.

so i went with it. and i am so very, very, very glad that i did.

it's true what they say: when you know, you know. sometimes that knowing doesn't come when or how you think it should. sometimes that knowing takes a beating. but when you know, you know. and even if your brain, your friends and your horoscope are each telling you different things and you think you don't know which end is up, just follow your heart.

that's the one place, the one tool we have, that doesn't waver, doesn't fade, doesn't ebb. it's the steady humming that sometimes can't be heard over all the noise in our lives, but sooner or later it's the only sound you hear and you'll know for sure what to do.

during our more challenging times, Michael and i sometimes felt a little sad, a little disillusioned and disappointed to know that we weren't writing a fairytale, that our story was muddled, complicated, slowing becoming an epic saga.

but now we know we're lucky. we wouldn't trade the last eight years for anything, considering they got us to where we are today - an amazing place. and really, when you think about it, these eight years are just the first chapter.

mb

bundle of oy

so i had an interesting gynecologist appointment on Friday.

(i wouldn't normally use such a thing as a basis for a blog entry, but it really was interesting, so please bear with me.)

it started out normal enough.

doc: "how are you? any problems?"

me: "nope, all good."

doc: "you still with the same partner?"

me: "...yes...?"

doc: "you've been together...eight years?"

me: [not sure how she knows this from looking in my file, but...] "yep, just about."

doc: "planning to get married?"

me: "er...yes?"

doc: "do you want kids?"

this is around the time i start babbling about my life plans, sort of pulling them out of my rear end, sort of not, and suddenly the doc starts telling me to make sure i'm getting enough folic acid on a daily basis and to watch my tuna fish intake. then she says she wants to do blood work.

"pre-pregnancy tests," she tells me, as if i've given her the impression that i'm in some "pre" pregnancy stage and these tests are imperative. she goes on to list various genetic tests along with general health tests, all of which will tell me just how ready i am to start trying.

this is around the time i realize it ain't no joke. i'm an adult. i'm an adult with a ticking clock, and my gynecologist knows it.

a very nice nurse then drained about 12 gallons of blood from me - i lost track of how many test tubes she filled up - and i was told the results will be back in about a month. the doc handed me a pamphlet entitled Healthy Pregnancy and sent me on my way.

it's safe to say that, on the subway ride back to my office, the overriding thought running through my mind was: holy shit.

it just wasn't the kind of appointment i was expecting to have. on most days i forget how old i am. i'm still waiting, as they say, for my real life to begin. i'm still waiting for that moment when i feel like i actually know what i'm doing. not that i don't have pangs when i see pregnant women walk by on the sidewalk, or when one of my best friends called me a couple weeks ago to let me know she's expecting, or when i hear my cousin Henry giggle. i'm a woman, i have a uterus, it happens.

but my appointment on Friday was just so real.

but it was a weird kind of real because i'm truly not in that phase of life just yet. i left the doctor's office feeling as i were somehow behind, somehow delinquent. that perhaps my doctor thought taking my blood and giving me a pamphlet would be the not-so-subtle nudge i need to get on with things already.

i was in a weird mood the rest of the day, caught somewhere between 'wistful' and 'indignant.' and it just so happened that i reconnected with several high school friends that afternoon (via that glorious invention called Facebook) and i'm not kidding - every single one of them is married with at least one kid, mostly two.

clearly i'm quite the rebel, taking my sweet time to settle down, waiting until the last possible moment to open Megan's Baby Factory. it's probably no surprise to anyone - i was a mini-adult in high school, i'm an overgrown kid in adulthood. but, you know what? i got over it. the weirdness wore off and i remembered how grateful i am to be where i am right now.

i appreciate my doc's concern, and at least now i'll be prepared when the time is right. but i'm really OK with taking a little more time before every shirt i own is stained with spit-up and finding thirty seconds to pee in peace is a miracle.

i just hope my dentist doesn't start talking to me about baby teeth...

mb

the mother load

i don't want to completely jump into the whole Sarah Palin debacle—there are enough opinions to go around right now and if you know me, you have probably assumed correctly that i think it was an asinine move to make her the VP candidate, mostly because i think everything the GOP does is asinine—but i do feel the need to address something being debated in the wake of her appointment. 

i'm referring to, as the New York Times called it, the Mommy Wars. 

first of all, i think the idea of any 'Mommy War' is ridiculous—it's the equivalent of high school cheerleaders picking on, say, the science club or the yearbook staff, just because they chose the 'wrong' extra-curricular. what is it about women that compels us to constantly need a social pecking order? to incessantly judge each other, on everything from waistlines to spouses to hair styles to mothering skills? i can't express how obnoxious and hurtful i find this, i really can't. 

second of all, there's this whole matter of, "well, you'd never ask a male candidate whether he could handle being vice president and a father at the same time." i have two responses to this. 

number one: maybe we should. 

and number two: it stands to reason, doesn't it, that since women carry their babies inside them for nine months, deliver them into the world and nourish them with their own bodies, that perhaps—especially in babyhood and childhood—mothers are especially crucial to their children? that maybe it's more important for mothers to be readily available to their children than it is for fathers?

before everyone goes up in arms, i am not knocking single fathers or same sex parents by any means. i'm just saying that perhaps biology plays a part here. when you do have two parents of opposite genders, they tend to play different roles in a child's life. is that the way it has to be? of course not. is that the way it typically goes? i think so. 

and especially in this case—in the case of Sarah Palin—i think taking care of five children (one of whom has Down's and one of whom is currently growing her own baby) while trying to run for VP of the U.S. is utterly, inarguably impossible. i mean, i know very little about her, but i'm assuming that if she were a robot or a superhero, CNN would have broken the story by now. seriously, how can she be a proper mother to those kids and be second-in-command? she hasn't lived the D.C. life yet, as far as i know. she has no idea what she's in store for and i'm dismayed that she's willing to put so much on the line. something's gotta give, as they say, and i fear that for her, it will be motherhood. 

but i'm not here to judge someone i don't know. i really just wanted to say that i think this whole debate over (or, more accurately, between) working moms versus stay-at-home moms detracts from the crux of the parenting issue. work-free or workaholic, all that matters is that a woman is a good mother. or a man is a good father. do you love your kids? nurture your kids? hug your kids? are the kids happy, well-adjusted, healthy? if the answer to all of these is yes, everything else is moot.

women can argue 'til the end of time about which choice is better—to work or not to work—but all that time they spend picking on each other and flapping their gums would be better spent, you know, being a mom. 

mb