Thankful

While I am thankful for so much this year, I wanted to mention three things that stand out to me. 

I am thankful for my son, Harrison. These past six months have been amazing watching him grow and learn. I love his laugh; I love his smile; I love his pout.  The sleepless nights are worth every second because he is so wonderful and I love him so, so much. 

I am thankful for my husband. He has put up with a lot this past year…from my irrational, pregnant hormones, to crazy, no-sleep Kerri. He has been supportive and loving and I can’t imagine my life without him. 

I am thankful for my mom and sister who both kept me sane during my first few weeks as a new mom. They made sure I found the time to shower, eat, and sleep while caring for a newborn. Their support means so much to me.  

Ceiling Cat

So I had my own version of ceiling cat recently…I didn’t realize this was a real thing until my brother told me, after he heard the story I’m about to write about. For those who are unfamiliar with ceiling cat, here you go:

http://siskoid.blogspot.com/2010/10/cat-of-geek-84-ceiling-cat.html

My husband and I just bought a house! And I think we will always remember our first night.

It started off as any other night would. We had dinner at a restaurant to celebrate our big purchase. It was a really nice dinner, but I had my first Lenten slip. It was Friday and I ate meat. (Gasp!). I’m using my pregnancy as an excuse though…the baby wanted to meat! If it’s that big of a sin, I figure it will be washed away when we baptize the baby.

Dinner ended and we drive home. We enter our house and I immediately walk upstairs to see how our cat, Hank, is doing. I locked him in one of the bedrooms since we had been moving stuff into the house all day long. He wasn’t too thrilled about this (scratching at the door and trying to run out as soon as the door opens a crack), but it meant he wouldn’t sneak outside while the door was open all day. (He’s an indoor cat). Anyway, my husband and I both enter the room and the cat is not there…Did the walls eat him up?! The door was shut. Unless he suddenly learned how to turn a doorknob, there is no way he could have left this room. Where the hell could he have gone? And then we realized the small closet door in the room was ajar, so we opened it. Still…no Hank.

My heart started racing because I have no clue where he went. I start looking all over the house, calling his name. HANK!!! I shake the bag cat food…and he doesn’t come running towards me. 

And then I hear my husband say, “I found him!” I run back upstairs where I don’t see my husband holding the cat.

Me: Where is he?

Husband: He’s in the hole in the closet.

Me: What?! Get him out!

Husband: He’s not coming.

I go into the closet and bend down to try and see him.

Me: Why can’t I see him?

Husband: You have to angle your head a certain way.

I adjust and see Hank’s little eyes glowing at me.

Me: Hank!! Come out!! What are you doing?!

And then we try EVERYTHING to get him out. Treats, cat food, a cat toy, a lasso (ok I exaggerate) and lastly a can of tuna. He loves this stuff. Any time I am making tuna and open that can, Hank comes trotting over. I usually pour the excess liquid into a small dish for him and he laps it up.  I think to myself that this has to work! We open the can and place it in front of the hole. And…nothing. He still isn’t coming back towards the light.

Now I’m starting to get upset…and freaked out that every time I look in the hole, not only will I see Hank, but I will also a gigantic spider crawling towards me or worse towards Hank to eat him up.

Me: Let’s knock down the wall!

Husband: What? I’m not going to knock down the wall.

Me: There is a hole in the closet anyway and it will need to be fixed!

Husband: Honey, we just bought this place. I’m not knocking down the wall.

Tears start welling up in my eyes.

Husband: Let’s just go to bed and he’ll come out eventually!

Me: No!! I can’t sleep like this!!

And now I become hysterical…crying, sobbing uncontrollably. Pregnancy hormones? Probably. But I am also obsessed with my cat. So I might do this anyway. Looking back at all of this (just a few days later), all I can think is my poor husband.

Me: Please do something!! I can’t sleep like this and I can’t even see Hank anymore in the hole!

My husband looked in the hole and can’t see the cat either.

So my husband goes downstairs and I can hear a drill start up. I wait for a few minutes to try and compose myself before I head downstairs to see what he is doing. And as I walk into the kitchen, I see my husband, standing on a stool, drilling and cutting a hole into our ceiling. The ceiling of the house that we just bought.  I don’t even say anything because I know he is mad that he is doing this, but as far as I’m concerned it was incredibly necessary to do. And then I notice another hole in the bathroom right next to where he is currently drilling. (And later I would see the start of a hole in the closet right next to the bathroom).

My husband loves me. A lot.

Once the hole (the final one) is completed, he sees Hank and starts to lure him out treat by treat. Finally he is able to grab him and he pulls him out.

I can finally relax. Hank is safe and has not been eaten by large spiders. And he is filthy. Absolutely covered in dirt. All of the white spots on his fur are soot stained. My husband hands me the cat and walks away without saying anything. I hug my cat and bring him back upstairs. I move a heavy dresser in front of the closet door that he got into. He won’t get into that closet again! Then I head to bed. I can sleep now.

New Year's Resolutions

Is it too late to discuss New Year resolutions? Oh well. I’m going to talk about it anyway.

For those who don’t know, I’m a big grammar nerd. I was an English major in college and now work in publishing. I don’t go so far as to correct people’s grammar (well most people), but I sure would love to. My brother thinks I should. He read somewhere that not correcting people's grammar is like letting “people shit in the pool and not saying anything”.

I think social media has made people’s grammar so much worse. It drives me crazy to see posts on facebook where people do not know (or are too lazy to figure out) the differences between words such as to, two, and too, or they’re, there, and their. This is learned in elementary school!! And then there is the incorrect use of the word literally. “I literally just died”. No, you literally did not die.  

Anyway…I digress. One of my new year’s resolutions was to improve the way I speak. So many people today use the words “like” and “goes” when talking about dialogue. For example, “I was like what is going on?” Or “He goes, “tell me more”.

I do this more often than I’d like. So, I’m trying to stop. And it is difficult. Very difficult. I tend to talk quickly and so I’m trying to slow down my speech and really think about what I’m trying to say before I slip into my old ways. I have almost given up…it’s very easy to just continue to speak that way. It feels natural (unfortunately). I’m working on it though. I think it will be a longer process than I realized, but I guess that’s what New Year’s resolutions are for! It would be easier to give up, but I don’t want to be one of the many people shitting in the pool.  

A Trip on the Orange Line

A few years ago, when I was still new to commuting, I was heading home on the orange line. I drove in to Oak Grove that day rather than taking the train. I was just sitting in my seat, minding my own business, when I noticed a rather large woman getting onto the train. She stood out for many reasons: she was wearing leopard print pajama pants; she had on a yellow stained ripped t-shirt; her greasy blonde hair was matted to her head. It looked like she hadn’t showered in weeks. She sat down directly across from me in the unfilled train. Lucky me.  

I continued reading my book, not wanting to create any additional awkwardness by staring at her some more. But then I saw her take out a bright orange pill bottle.  Presumably a prescription. I watched as she struggled with the cap.  Then the cap suddenly popped off and, as if in slow motion, her pills scattered across the floor...of the train…the 10,000 different sets of feet, dirt, gum, trash, mold, and what-could-be-the-next-stage-of-biological-warfare-breeding-ground floor of THE SUBWAY.  I could see her jaw drop in shock.

So, as the tiny white pills laid there among the accumulated filth of a city, she gazed down at them, with a sad and confused expression on her face.  Then, without warning, her ratty, soiled sneaker shot out and landed on top of a few of these coveted pills. Without a shred of situational awareness, she slowly and carefully dragged her foot closer and closer to her, scraping the pills across the floor until they were within reach…Then she reached down, picked up the pills with her stubby fingers, and popped them into her mouth. She looked up at me and smiled.

I love the T.

That Celtics Fan

In honor of the Celtics being in the playoffs, I thought I’d share this story about a Celtics fan I came across during one of my commutes to Boston a few years ago. I was heading to work one morning and just got off the train and was heading downstairs to North Station to wait for the Green Line. It was rush hour, so there were people everywhere.

As I stepped off the escalator, I noticed a strange man wearing a green Celtics t-shirt approaching people. It barely registered though. Every morning I see a variety of people asking for money, food, cigarettes, etc. There wasn’t anything too different about this man…except I started to notice that he only approached women. Great, I thought to myself. Let’s avoid this one.

I headed over to wait for the next train and saw him sauntering towards me from the corner of my eye. I could see his greasy, stringy hair swinging side to side and I noticed he had a hunch back…I didn’t make eye contact. I continued looking straight ahead at the wall with advertisements for (Rock) Star Checking from Salem Five…Keep Talking, We’re Listening…until I realized he was standing right next to me. I suppose I could have just kept staring straight ahead, but it was getting awkward. So I slowly turned my head to look at him.

In all seriousness, he asked, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Shocked, I didn’t know how to respond.  After replaying it a few times in my mind I realized I had just been asked out…by the weird, stringy-haired, crazy Celtics T-shirt guy.  “Um…no,” I mumbled.  

And he just walked away.

I could hear the man standing behind me snickering (which is what I would be doing if I saw this encounter). Finally, the T arrived and I stepped on.

A few things crossed my mind after this. What if I had said yes? It was 8:30am. Did the Celtics fan want to go somewhere for breakfast? Or would he have met me somewhere later? Did he ever get a positive answer from any of the women he asked? I guess I’ll never know because I didn’t accept his offer.

I see him every now and then. Always in North Station. Always approaching women. And yes, always in that green Celtics t-shirt.

An annoying thing happened on my way to Boston

One of my many pet peeves I have when I’m commuting concerns the people that sit with me. I’m early enough on the line that I usually have an inside seat, which I prefer. And most of the time, the person sitting next to me does not bother me. They can be sleeping, reading a book, or just staring off into space; I don’t care. I do care when they are talking on their phone (especially in the morning) or smell like cigarettes, or crowd my space. Recently, I realized there is something else that bothers me: passengers who do not get up when it’s time to get off the train.

When the train pulls into North Station, some people line up so they can get off first. I am not one of these people. I don’t see the point. Saving one to two minutes will not make it or break it for me in terms of getting to work on time.

Anyway, one day a woman sat down next to me after she got onto the train. Well…let me rephrase. When she arrived at my seat, she divided her royal highness' match luggage between the overhead compartment, the aisle and the floor in front of her seat. She folded her coat and placed it on the luggage, unfolded her newspaper, brewed some coffee, had a quick bath and called for room service. OK, not really, but you get the idea. This was a woman with a full agenda and she had yet to take her seat. But, I didn’t think too much of it. We had a half hour to go until Boston.

As we pulled into North Station, she continued reading her paper (the gossip section, I noticed). I already put my book away and was basically ready to stand up when it was time for my seat to file out. (Perhaps she never learned this procedure in grade school?) The train stopped and she was still reading about the Kardashians or Lindsay Lohan’s latest arrest. I didn’t care; it was time for her to start packing up.  If all she had to do was stand up and leave, I wouldn’t even be writing about this, but, she had a lot of stuff to take care of before she got off the train and she wasn’t even moving!  The people sitting in front of me started getting off the train and she just kept on reading! I think at this point I must have cleared my throat or made some kind of movement to indicate that I’d like to get off the train…or that I was about to go for her throat.  I suppose I could have just said excuse me…or GET UP YOU INCONSIDERATE bitch HUMAN BEING!!! She looked at me, sighed, stood up, and moved into the seat in front of me and continued reading. I was putting her out, basically. So, soooooorry to interrupt!!  

It may seem like a little thing.  Something that only delayed me for 30 seconds of my pretty laid-back life.  But, and let this be a warning to you, this is what five years on the MBTA will do to a person. I wasn’t always like this; I used to be a normal, patient-to-a-reasonable-degree person, but now simple situations like this really send me off the deep end! There are many people that stay on the train after it stops (what do I care if someone likes to enjoy their paper in the ambiance of a human cattle car?), but this woman was stealing precious moments of my life!!!  At least let the person on the inside of the seat out so they can get to work or wherever they are going. It’s the same thing as waiting for people to get off the T before you get on or vice versa. It’s just common courtesy with a sprinkle of social awareness.

About one to two weeks after this happened, I was on the train, heading to work, enjoying my book, when I looked up and saw her. Luggage and all. With a look of recognition in her eyes, she sat down next to me.  Some people just suck.

A Disney Vacation

My husband I returned recently from a week long vacation in Florida. We started the trip in Fort Myers (business for him and Red Sox for me!) and then headed to Orlando for the rest of the trip. I must say, Disney at age 27 is not the same as Disney at age 21. Who would have thought that 6 years would make so much of a difference? I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy myself; I did. I love Disney World. Yes, it’s definitely geared for children, but I still think it’s a lot of fun – the rides, characters, etc. But I cannot express how tired I was after a day of walking through the park and standing in lines.

When I was younger, I remember spending all day and night in the parks. My most recent trip before this one was when I was 21. My family and I would start the day in one park, hop on the monorail to another park, and stay until it closed. I never stopped to rest. Waiting in lines, in the hot sun – none of this fazed me. Looking back, I don’t know how my parents kept up!

During this recent vacation, we rested – as much as we could. I think it’s the only thing that prevented us from coming home at 7pm and collapsing into our bed for the night! While we were only there for 3 days (which I now think is the maximum days one should go), we did not spend as much time at the parks as I used to. And surprisingly I was okay with it. After getting home from the Animal Kingdom after the first day, my feet were throbbing! I was hot from the sun and wanted to take a shower. I didn’t feel like going to another park that day. It was only 3pm.

We had dinner one night in Downtown Disney. The meal was excellent, at this Italian restaurant called Portabellos. During dinner we talked about how we wanted to go dancing after this. We’re on vacation after all! Halfway through the meal, my husband remarked on how little time we’ve had for reading during this vacation. And then I said what we were both thinking: How about we just go back to the hotel and read and relax? Yes, please.

We decided the next time we come back will be with our future children and when they are old enough to really appreciate the experience.  And if we’re smart, we’ll rope our parents into it.  Maybe they will have hit their second wind by then!