Hello friends. It's been quite a while since I've posted a blog, over a year in fact. The truth is I've gone through somewhat of a transformation in that time. I've been rediscovering myself, doing things again that I used to love. I needed it, but I haven't had much time to sit down and focus on writing a blog. Even the name of my blog isn't that relative to my life anymore. I'll probably keep it though, if only for its quirkiness.
So all that being said, you're probably waiting for me to say something interesting or funny. You've missed the inner workings of my mind. I'm sorry but this was just to get us reacquainted. Hi, I'm Cathy. I like talking with friends, coffee, pink, the beach, and have developed a Hello Kitty obsession. I make no apologies for these things. And I leave you now on this unexpected snow day to buy a bathing suit.
Until we meet again, stay classy friends!
-Cathy
Friday, March 8, 2013
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Circle of Life (Not a Google+ joke)
One word: Owen.
Alright, I'll give you some more words. He's the most precious, handsome, adorable, fresh smelling, 3 week old, baby nephew little peanut the world has ever seen. I don't know why we use the term peanut for babies, though. They're more like walnuts or pecans than peanuts, wrinkly and soft. Semantics :)
Yesterday we spent the day flying, first from Boston to D.C., then to Huntsville, AL to spend this week visiting the little unspecified nut and his parents. On the first flight we sat next to a very friendly older man that asked us where we were going. The Atheist told him about his sister's baby. When we questioned him in return, he told us he was going to a veteran's funeral in D.C. The rest of the conversation was lost on me as we were taking off, and I very much dislike takeoff. But I got to thinking (after I relaxed) about the perplexities of the circle of life. Beauty and age, sadness and joy, birth and death, the yin and the yang. In this life you can't be all joyful or all downtrodden. It's a two for one deal, with no "buy one at the original cost" option. Whenever there's death, there's always life. I don't mean to say that you should never feel your sad emotions, or that knowing you'll be happy again is an instant fix for depression. But birth is a time for renewed hope in the possibilities of life, and not only just for the baby.
I'm off to spoil that little cashew...I think I'll stick with peanut. I just decided that I'll be the aunt ten years from now that pinches his cheeks every time I see him. I look forward to it :)
Alright, I'll give you some more words. He's the most precious, handsome, adorable, fresh smelling, 3 week old, baby nephew little peanut the world has ever seen. I don't know why we use the term peanut for babies, though. They're more like walnuts or pecans than peanuts, wrinkly and soft. Semantics :)
Yesterday we spent the day flying, first from Boston to D.C., then to Huntsville, AL to spend this week visiting the little unspecified nut and his parents. On the first flight we sat next to a very friendly older man that asked us where we were going. The Atheist told him about his sister's baby. When we questioned him in return, he told us he was going to a veteran's funeral in D.C. The rest of the conversation was lost on me as we were taking off, and I very much dislike takeoff. But I got to thinking (after I relaxed) about the perplexities of the circle of life. Beauty and age, sadness and joy, birth and death, the yin and the yang. In this life you can't be all joyful or all downtrodden. It's a two for one deal, with no "buy one at the original cost" option. Whenever there's death, there's always life. I don't mean to say that you should never feel your sad emotions, or that knowing you'll be happy again is an instant fix for depression. But birth is a time for renewed hope in the possibilities of life, and not only just for the baby.
I'm off to spoil that little cashew...I think I'll stick with peanut. I just decided that I'll be the aunt ten years from now that pinches his cheeks every time I see him. I look forward to it :)
Monday, July 25, 2011
It's All in the Details
Wow. It's been about six months since I wrote a blog entry, the first and only one so far. Oh well, life gets in the way of things sometimes. In my previous post I mentioned that I would give detail to the name of the blog. First, though, I'd just like to give a brief background as to why I'm writing this silly thing.
Every Sunday, the Atheist and I have family dinner at my parents house. These past holidays my father must of been cleaning out the basement when we came across some high school essays of mine. The proud father lugged these upstairs before a said Sunday dinner, and acted as though we all of course would be interested in what was going on in my brain over ten years ago. Something happened though. I remembered that even though I didn't very much enjoy high school, I loved to write. And even though I'm scared to death that you'll think my thoughts and words are that of an uneducated sap, I've decided to continue something I used to enjoy...and put it on the web for public scrutiny. Hey, why not?
So the name. In the most basic terms, I'm a Christian, my husband is an Atheist, and sometimes we go to bars. But you probably already figured that out. I knew you were smart. But it wasn't always this way. When the Atheist and I started dating, we shared the same beliefs, and still when we got married. The Atheist used to be a Christian. A year ago Easter he changed his mind. Obviously there's more to it than that, but it's his story to tell, and I could never begin to fully describe his journey from point A to point B. What I can tell you is that my journey has not been an easy one. Grief, anger, denial, bitterness, acceptance, forgiveness. Grief over the loss of the shared values and ideas I thought we had. Anger, towards the Atheist for presumably not considering my feelings. Denial, that one's obvious. Bitterness, it just doesn't seem fair. Acceptance towards the things I can not change, though I have tried to surprise baptize him. Joking. Kind of. Forgiveness, yes towards him, but also for myself. Forgiveness for the guilt that maybe somehow I failed him, forgiveness for the previous unpleasant emotions I had towards him. I never expected life to deal me an easy hand, but somehow I believed that having the same faith would make our life together perfect. Hey, I'm still young. Over the past year I've learned what I, personally, and we, collectively, are made of.
I'm off to bed now, the Atheist is sleeping, and I'm pretty sure the clicking of the keys is making him grumpy. I promise it won't be another six months until you hear from me again. As my brother-in-law said, "writing one blog doesn't make you a blog writer."
Every Sunday, the Atheist and I have family dinner at my parents house. These past holidays my father must of been cleaning out the basement when we came across some high school essays of mine. The proud father lugged these upstairs before a said Sunday dinner, and acted as though we all of course would be interested in what was going on in my brain over ten years ago. Something happened though. I remembered that even though I didn't very much enjoy high school, I loved to write. And even though I'm scared to death that you'll think my thoughts and words are that of an uneducated sap, I've decided to continue something I used to enjoy...and put it on the web for public scrutiny. Hey, why not?
So the name. In the most basic terms, I'm a Christian, my husband is an Atheist, and sometimes we go to bars. But you probably already figured that out. I knew you were smart. But it wasn't always this way. When the Atheist and I started dating, we shared the same beliefs, and still when we got married. The Atheist used to be a Christian. A year ago Easter he changed his mind. Obviously there's more to it than that, but it's his story to tell, and I could never begin to fully describe his journey from point A to point B. What I can tell you is that my journey has not been an easy one. Grief, anger, denial, bitterness, acceptance, forgiveness. Grief over the loss of the shared values and ideas I thought we had. Anger, towards the Atheist for presumably not considering my feelings. Denial, that one's obvious. Bitterness, it just doesn't seem fair. Acceptance towards the things I can not change, though I have tried to surprise baptize him. Joking. Kind of. Forgiveness, yes towards him, but also for myself. Forgiveness for the guilt that maybe somehow I failed him, forgiveness for the previous unpleasant emotions I had towards him. I never expected life to deal me an easy hand, but somehow I believed that having the same faith would make our life together perfect. Hey, I'm still young. Over the past year I've learned what I, personally, and we, collectively, are made of.
I'm off to bed now, the Atheist is sleeping, and I'm pretty sure the clicking of the keys is making him grumpy. I promise it won't be another six months until you hear from me again. As my brother-in-law said, "writing one blog doesn't make you a blog writer."
Friday, January 21, 2011
Tattoos and Marriage
Being my first blog you're probably expecting me to explain the name, but I'll get to that next time. This entry is dedicated to the importance people put in commitment, and what they find valuable enough to commit to. I'll say this first: if you find something worth committing to, you should. Whether it be a relationship, a goal, a diet, if there is something that will enrich you're life in even a small way, you should dedicate your time and effort, and sometimes money, into doing what's worthwhile.
A little over four years ago, after fives years of dating John, we got married. We took the plunge. We got the ball and chain (literally, my grandmother got us hats with a ball and chain). After some time of getting to know each other, we made vows that through thick and thin we would work things out. It was a commitment that we did not take lightly, and a lot of hard work we entrusted each other with. A few months after the celebration, we went and "marked" ourselves with ring tattoos. We have traditional rings as well, but we were confident enough in our decision to spend our lives together to be cool enough to get some ink to commemorate the occasion.
Yesterday at the chocolate store I waited on an older woman who noticed my tattoo (this happens often). She was excited to see someone who had actually gotten a ring tattoo, as some of her girlfriends talked about getting it done. The common exchange ended a little awkward, for me anyways, when she said "you must of been sure."
Now, I know what they say about assuming, but I was convinced she meant that I must of been sure enough of my relationship to get a tattoo. This is quite bothersome to me. Her comment was innocent enough, and yeah, I was sure that I wanted to stay married. It got me thinking about how serious people take tattoos, and how less serious people take marriage. I agree that people who are dating probably shouldn't get their partner's name tattooed on their butt or anything like that. And if you take marriage lightly, then you shouldn't get a ring tattoo. Heck, if you want to get buried in a Jewish cemetery you can't have any tattoos at all. The point I'm trying to get to is is how often do you hear people saying to engaged couples, "Wow, you must really be sure"? Believe it or not, in the tattoo community (i don't really consider myself part of this community, I have one tiny tattoo), there are levels of respect depending on what kind of tattoo you have, where you place it, and the meaning. Yeah ladies, your cute little dolphin above your butt crack isn't called a "tramp stamp" for nothing. In comparison, there is hardly any respect for marriage left. And maybe fairly so. People go in thinking about the potential of their partner and leave when they refuse to change. The grass is always greener, someone has something that your partner doesn't, etc. But ink is for life. You nurture it: keep it out of the sun, keep your hands away from doing dishes, put lotion on it. A tattoo is something you've decided that you want to have for life, because it's really hard to get rid of if you change your mind.
I wish marriage still got the respect it deserves. Or even committed, long-term relationships. I believe it doesn't because a lot of people are less committed to the hard work a marriage takes then people who are committed to the art they put on their body.
A little over four years ago, after fives years of dating John, we got married. We took the plunge. We got the ball and chain (literally, my grandmother got us hats with a ball and chain). After some time of getting to know each other, we made vows that through thick and thin we would work things out. It was a commitment that we did not take lightly, and a lot of hard work we entrusted each other with. A few months after the celebration, we went and "marked" ourselves with ring tattoos. We have traditional rings as well, but we were confident enough in our decision to spend our lives together to be cool enough to get some ink to commemorate the occasion.
Yesterday at the chocolate store I waited on an older woman who noticed my tattoo (this happens often). She was excited to see someone who had actually gotten a ring tattoo, as some of her girlfriends talked about getting it done. The common exchange ended a little awkward, for me anyways, when she said "you must of been sure."
Now, I know what they say about assuming, but I was convinced she meant that I must of been sure enough of my relationship to get a tattoo. This is quite bothersome to me. Her comment was innocent enough, and yeah, I was sure that I wanted to stay married. It got me thinking about how serious people take tattoos, and how less serious people take marriage. I agree that people who are dating probably shouldn't get their partner's name tattooed on their butt or anything like that. And if you take marriage lightly, then you shouldn't get a ring tattoo. Heck, if you want to get buried in a Jewish cemetery you can't have any tattoos at all. The point I'm trying to get to is is how often do you hear people saying to engaged couples, "Wow, you must really be sure"? Believe it or not, in the tattoo community (i don't really consider myself part of this community, I have one tiny tattoo), there are levels of respect depending on what kind of tattoo you have, where you place it, and the meaning. Yeah ladies, your cute little dolphin above your butt crack isn't called a "tramp stamp" for nothing. In comparison, there is hardly any respect for marriage left. And maybe fairly so. People go in thinking about the potential of their partner and leave when they refuse to change. The grass is always greener, someone has something that your partner doesn't, etc. But ink is for life. You nurture it: keep it out of the sun, keep your hands away from doing dishes, put lotion on it. A tattoo is something you've decided that you want to have for life, because it's really hard to get rid of if you change your mind.
I wish marriage still got the respect it deserves. Or even committed, long-term relationships. I believe it doesn't because a lot of people are less committed to the hard work a marriage takes then people who are committed to the art they put on their body.
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