We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, of fix us in the present. ~ Anaïs Nin
My first memory is watching my dad take our cat to be buried. Mom and I are sitting on the couch and staring out the large picture window at the front of the house. It’s nightime and my dad is silhouetted in the streetlight, his shoulders hunched as he’s pulling a wagon behind him containing the cat’s body. Mom is crying and I am about three years old.
The first lie I can remember telling is how I got the cut between my eyes. I was using a butter knife to open the paper on top of a peanut butter jar and I didn’t know enough to not point the knife in the direction of my face. It slipped and stabbed me right between my eyebrows. I told my parents that the refrigerator door had stuck and popped open and hit me in the face. Because I was seven, I was too dumb to realize that not only was I not tall enough for the door to make that particular point of contact but the peanut butter jar and knife were on the counter. I got one stitch for that incident and am lucky it missed my eyes.
I had the kind of weekend that I’ve been craving. One where I played a hermit and said no to invitations and didn’t leave my house at all. Sometimes I love going out and spending time with our awesome friends and family and other times, I don’t want to see anyone or leave the house for two days straight. And that’s pretty much what happened. I actually think the only time I went outside was on Sunday to get the mail. And I am perfectly okay with that.
That’s not to say I didn’t get anything done. Because I did accomplish things.
We’re a little late to this party but Steve and I have been absolutely hooked on Breaking Bad. All of our friends were fans and we had missed the first season so it was difficult for us to initially get into it, knowing the time we’d have to invest to catch up. And we were absolutely correct on the time it would but incorrect in assuming it wouldn’t be worth the investment. This show is absolutely amazing! We have made it through seasons one, two and are halfway through three in a little under two weeks. There are nights we will watch five or six episodes and at 47 minutes a piece on Netflix, that’s still a hefty time commitment. But we’ll be like, “One more episode” then it will end on a cliffhanger and we’re like, “We’ve got to know what’s going on!” I will say, it is really bleak and depressing to watch. Like, not in an awful way but in a way where I’m wondering how I’m finding such pleasure in a show that never seems to have a happy ending. Also, how am I enjoying this when every minute, I want to punch Skylar in her big fat meddling nosy frowny face. I wish she would die but I’ve seen previews for season 5 and she’s still there so that makes me sad. So hopefully we’ll be able to catch up before the fifth season premieres in ten days. Though I’m not sure if I could handle not being able to immediately start the next episode after the kind of cliffhangers they have.
I don’t know if you remember, but I kind of got married a few months ago. And everything about that day was perfect. I couldn’t have picked a better, more appropriate way for us to tie the knot. Married life has been awesome because frankly, it’s not much different from our non-married life. It’s just now we get to call each other “Wifey” and “Hubby” and wear extra, sparkly (in my case) jewelry.
Because we didn’t have a real wedding or a chance to celebrate with all of our friends and family (and because my mom likes any good excuse to have a party), my parents actually offered to throw us one. We agreed but had some boundaries – we didn’t want it to be a wedding or reception. We weren’t going to do dances or garter tosses or bouquets or anything like that. I wasn’t going to wear a dress. We just wanted something simple and low key and us.
Well, thank god I kind of left the rest up to my mom because what she came up with was nothing short of amazing! I was apprehensive that it was going to be a bit over the top. I mean, we were talking backyard BBQ and stuff. But what my parents threw together in the course of two months turned out to be an awesome night of food, friends, family and fun. We had an absolutely beautiful location, an ideal Charleston setting with the water and the sunset and the palm trees. We had excellent food and a well-stocked bar and a DJ who kept everyone on the floor dancing, despite not having a cool breeze and it being hot as Hades, as is common here in the Summer.
Ultimately, we all had a blast!
Some of my favorite summer memories are of the Fourth of July celebrations we’ve had over the years.
There were the fireworks at Brittlebank Park here in Charleston, before they moved it to Patriot’s Point. We’d get there early, before the sun went down, and spread our blanket out on the grass and just hang out and enjoy the cool breeze coming off the Ashley River. This was before the time of smart phones and everyone being connected via WiFi and Facebook and social media so we actually made friends with the people sitting next to us. There was always delicious food – hot dogs and soda and ice cream. And someone was always selling glow sticks that we begged for because apparently the fireworks weren’t enough.
There was the time we went into Philadelphia to watch the fireworks over the art museum. I don’t remember much about that time except for the fact that the crowds were ridiculously crazy and there was nowhere to sit so we stood most of the night and then piled our tired and sticky bodies into the van and sat for hours in traffic to get home. I missed the celebration in Charleston terribly that year.
We spent years after that going back to our high school because we definitely weren’t going to repeat the Philadelphia experience. We spread blankets on the same field where we used to run for gym and didn’t have to worry about making friends because all of the people we had walked those halls with were there with their families. We brought coolers and snuck cold beer into red solo cups and listened as the booms were punctuated by the patriotic music. I always got chills when they played “God Bless the USA” or the “1812 Overture” because those were always my favorites.