In Memoriam

I'm not good with serious posts as I really think blogging works best with sarcasm, humor or at least positive insights. But today being what it is, I'm going to try to write something meaningful that will hopefully be uplifting rather than depressing.

Today is the 6th anniversary (how I hate using that word in this context) of my beloved husband's death. I decided a couple of years ago that I would try to use the day to remember the wonderful person he was and that it was a blessing to have had him in my life, even if it was cut short too soon. Unfortunately due to the transient nature of our lives and work, most people I'm close to these days never had the chance to meet him or know him all that well. So here goes -- my post to the kindest, most gentle and generous soul I have ever known.

Chris and I had known each other about 6 months or so before he asked me out. My friends and I frequented the bar he worked at, so I got to know him gradually. One night, two of my friends had a really bad fight (a misunderstanding over a guy naturally) and for whatever reason, while they were in the bathroom yelling at each other, he asked me out. The odd thing is, that night ended one of my long-term friendships (I never really get over how badly one friend treated the other over something so stupid) and started another.

From the very beginning, we got along beautifully. I think we decided by date 3, which was 3 days after the first date, that we needed to be exclusive. Shortly after we started dating, I made a major career change, which he questioned (as did everyone), but fully supported once he understood that it was something I really wanted. Because my new job was with a startup, my hours and responsibilities were crazy -- sometimes all nighters and always late night. He certainly expressed concern for my welfare and that he missed me, but he was still supportive of me. He made gourmet sandwiches for my lunch and cooked supper when I got home, no matter how late.

We moved in together with his cat about 9 months after we started dating. Because we both had a love for animals, we picked up and found homes for numerous strays before we got a dog of our own. At one point, our cat was diagnosed with diabetes and Chris diligently gave him insulin shots twice a day for the next 6 years. When we eventually got another dog, it was a rescue dog that bit Chris so badly that he had a scar on his nose, but he refused to give up on her.

Some time after we had been dating for about 4 years, the question of marriage began to surface. Our families were asking about it. Our friends were curious. We were terrified. We had a great life together. Why fix what ain't broke? And then we started talking about the future. We both wanted a house. Kids. And we figured out that getting married was the right first step. I think if it would have been up to Chris, he would have chosen a JP office visit or a trip to Vegas. He was never one for much of a fuss. But because he knew what it meant to me, he went through with the big church wedding, complete with 5 attendants on each side.

We had a fantastic marriage for the next year and a half. And then one Sunday morning in late April six years ago, I got the call. And two days later, it was all over. I was left alone with our life.

I miss him every day of my life and probably always will. But I'm forever grateful that this wonderfully kind soul and truly great human being was a part of my life. So, Chris, today is for you. I'll light a candle for you tonight and drink a toast in your honor. Because true love is always alive in our hearts.

Who Do You Love to Hate?

So, I've started watching this really random cartoon, which is weird because (a) I don't really have a conventional sense of humor, so I'm not even a fan of hip stuff like Family Guy and (b) I don't like science fiction/superhero themes and many, many cartoons (including this one) focus on these. But this one is a parody on Jonny Quest, which was one of my childhood favorites, so it works for me.

Anyway, the show concerns itself with "good" guys and the villains they fight. And one of the terms they've coined is "arching", which is basically targeting and attacking your arch enemy. At one point, the main villain is forbidden (by the villian union??) to "arch" the protagonist (I really can't say good guy again with a straight face) of the show. And the main villain HATES it. Because there's nothing he loves more than to torment his rival. So much so, that he doesn't ever want to REALLY defeat him because then life's meaning would be gone.

For whatever reason, I'm fascinated by this theme. The rules of engagement (as defined in the cartoon) are about getting one up on one's nemesis without causing any real damage. And I'm not sure I've ever seen this in real life. Maybe it's because I missed out on this type of thing when I was in college. (I never cared for football, so the whole rivalry thing just didn't happen for me. ) And I'm curious if this type of relationship exists in the adult world. I guess in the agency world, you've got the tension between the account people and the creatives. But it doesn't feel like "arching" to me.

Anyone out there have a great rivalry going? I'd love to hear some good "arching" stories.

A Tale of Two Families ... With Some Sparring Thrown In

Family dynamics are always interesting to observe. Every single group is a little bit different, with their own tribal customs and rituals. Friday night I got to observe the new beau's family in the wild.

Despite being absolutely terrified of meeting him, his son, his mom and dad, his sister, brother-in-law, niece and six random friends of the family, once I got there, everyone did their best to make me feel at home. Some of it was a little awkward (we were at a barbecue joint and everyone was trying to push meat at me, the vegetarian), but well-intentioned, none-the-less. And I somehow got seated between my beau and his son, which was really frightening, because his son's opinion matters more than anything else in the world. But even his son seemed to be trying to put me at ease by talking to me throughout the entire meal. (We totally bonded on gargoyles.) Anyway, what started out being the scariest thing in the world ended up being absolutely OK. More than OK. It was actually really fun. Because everyone acted like having me around was the most normal and coolest thing ever.

Contrast this with my family's reaction to this relationship. They're in denial, and being passive aggressive, are determined that if they just ignore the fact that we're dating, the relationship will go away. I heard from my sister-in-law that my sister and my Mom think I'm a complete idiot for even giving the new beau the time of day. This is based on the one or two times they met him almost 20 years ago. Yes, he broke my heart. Yes, he made some mistakes. But you know what? We were TOO young for the relationship to be viable at that time. (I shudder to think what would have happened if we HAD stayed together. ) So, they're tryng and succeeding somewhat in making me sad that I can't share my excitement about this new relationship with them. Because I know that if things go south, they'll throw anything and everything I share back into my face with an I Told You So. (Interestingly enough, I told my husband's sister about it, and she is overjoyed. Go figure.)

So, in the midst of all of this, I had a karate tournament. What a disaster that was. I'm not totally discouraged because I think there were a number of things working against me, but it certainly didn't turn out how I would have expected or hoped. Suffice it to say that I came in 4 out of 4 in my division. Knocked out (figuratively, not literally) in the first round. I did fight someone two belt ranks higher than me, who seemed to have a lot of tournament experience, so I guess that's something. And I did manage to score a few points on her. So it wasn't all terrible. Just not what I'd hoped for.

So I'd say I broke even on this weekend's events. The loss at the tournament was more than made up for by Friday night's family frivolities. I'm not counting my family into the equation because maybe if they can pretend this relationship isn't happening, I can pretend that they don't have an opinion about it.

High Anxiety

Do you ever wonder how you get yourself into such a naturally untenable position? Well, I've managed to get myself into two. And I'm seriously wishing that I had some type of prescription drug habit to help me cope. Dr. House? You there with the Vicodan?

I'm not a social creature. I'm pretty sure some people would classify me as downright anti-social or as my new beau so politely put it, a little on the reclusive side. To clarify though, Im not mean spirited nor do I think most people are somehow bad. I just don't have the mingling skills most girls seem to acquire somewhere along the way, so unless I know someone, I don't really know what to say.

But this weekend, I have two huge (one figuratively and one literally) social events. Gah. Why me?

The first is the most emotionally signifcant -- a birthday dinner for the new beau's sister. That is happening tonight (supposedly anyway -- I still have no details!). Which means, in addition to his mother and son, to whom I was briefly re-introduced to last weekend, I get to meet and hang out with his dad, his sister, her husband and presumably her three-year old daughter. That's a lot of people. And because he'll have his son, whom he hasn't seen all week, his attention will rightfully be on him, not me. So I'm kinda gonna be out there on my own. Thankfully, it's a birthday party, so hopefully the focus will be on his sister, so I won't have to talk much.

The second is literally the bigger of the two -- a karate tournament. Which means that I've somehow decided that it's OK to put myself in a situation where people are going to stare at me. Fortunately, most people don't care about the girls, so the crowd watching me will be significantly smaller than if I was one of the guys. But there will still be a degree of people watching and yes, judging what I'm doing. There's obviously a lot less talking involved in this, but there's still an awful lot of people I have to interact with.

So gentle readers, please say a kind prayer to the deity of your choice for me tonight and tomorrow. I think it's Nietsche who said that what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. If that's true, I'll be giving Achilles, Xena and Muhammad Ali a run for their money by Sunday.

The Surreal Life

Remember when you were little and you had these ideas about what life would be like when you were all grown up? Because I'm not much younger than Methusaleh, my initial thoughts were something like my parents had -- I would become a housewife with lots of kids and a husband who wore a suit and went off to work every day. Obviously things have turned out much differently for me. Which is probably better. I'm a littel ADD, which works out GREAT in advertising, but probably not so much for a housewife. What I'm trying to say is that I'm used to curve balls in life and have abandoned Plan A through about Plan H.


This weekend, I re-met my new beau's mom and son. (I had met his mom during the previous relationship and his son about 4 years ago totally randomly at a AAA office) As I sat in the same dining room I once sat in 20 years ago, watching my ex- and now current boyfriend interacting with a son who is just 7 years younger than he was when we met, I'm just blown away at how circular life is. I mean, who could have predicted when we split up 17 years ago that we'd end up right back where we started? And I wanted so much back then to have ended up like this.


I don't want to get ahead of myself because I still don't know how far this can go. And I absolutely still cherish the life I had with my husband. So I'm absolutely not in the "this was meant to be" kind of mindset. We've both obviously have a ton of issues to deal with, both separately and as a couple. But just the sense of deja vu or deja future or whatever that I had in that dining room was cool.

The first rule of Fight Club

So, I've talked a little about my karate club. Some vital background info: We have four paying members -- two boys and two girls (let's call the others Ginger, Gilligan and the Skipper). The club is in some serious financial trouble because our dues don't really cover the rent, but our master (from herein to be referred to as the Professor) is covering the difference in hopes that the economy will turn around. In addition to the financial stress, there is a huge gap of talent between the students. Suffice it to say that Gilligan and the Skipper are really, really good and Ginger and I are, well, about what you'd expect for 30ish and 40ish women who aren't all that athletic. The boys don't particularly like to work out with us because they don't see us as much of a challenge.

At the tournament on Saturday, Ginger and I were talking to our young champion from my blog over the weekend (Gilligan). as we watched different sparring matches. Somewhere in the conversation, he happened to let it slip that he, the Skipper and a number of our former male students were participating in a "fight club" to hone their sparring skills. At our school. For free. And this whole thing was being directed by one of the other teachers in our school. Who I'll call Mr. Howell.

I thought it was odd that Ginger and I weren't included -- we are the only ones in our club who aren't. But we've never participated in tournaments, so I didn't think too much about it. Ginger did, though. She was thoroughly offended and feels that our dues are what's keeping the school alive, as well as funding a fight club that we aren't allowed to participate. So she confronted the Professor at our Monday class. I could tell right away that he was uncomfortable talking about it, but she was furious.

So I go to class on Wednesday and I'm the only one there. The Professor is freaked out because now Mr. Howell is pissed off because the fight club was supposed to be a secret. Mr. Howell then emails Ginger and I inviting us to participate in said fight club. But he's angry with Gilligan for telling us about the club and has now ex-communicated him not keeping it a secret.

I know that discretion is the better part of valor, but really? Gilligan can't play because he spilled some big secret? When he's the only champion we've got? And now the Professor and Mr. Howell aren't speaking, Mr. Howell isn't speaking to Gilligan, the Professor is frustrated with Ginger. And I'm stuck in the middle. We're not talking about teenagers, here. Most of the parties involved (with the exception of poor Gilligan) are in their 30s, 40s or 50s. So why do I feel like I'm back in high school with the bickering, name-calling and cliques? Seriously, next time, can I just fight a schizophrenic Ed Norton??????

And the winner for best drama is...

There's a curse out there that goes something like "May you live in interesting times." I have long believed in this. For past 5 and a half years, I've lived a very quiet existence. And I really like that. It's not just that I don't like drama, I also worry way too much about everything. So really, things are better off when I'm just worried about getting home in time to walk my dogs.

Things started getting a little more interesting when I had my not-date, which led to a sort-of-date, which led to a definite date, which is leading up to possibly something more. Which is exciting and wonderful. Except we both have two very eccentric families to deal with. And for most people, this would not be a problem. Holidays and special events, otherwise, who cares, right? Well, I have the meddling family from hell. I do my best to set boundaries, but I will confess that when I was newly widowed, I needed their help -- with everthing from home repair to legal issues. And they sank in the claws and haven't backed off since.

His situation is even more complicated. Because he had a child at a rather young age, he is just now going back to school. And so that he can afford to go back to school and help support his son, he's living with his parents. Yes, that's right -- that means that there are two generations of his family I have to worry about making a good impression on. And because of our rather complicated history (including a lot of crying on my part) and his current lack of employment, my family is not positively disposed toward him. And while, in the long run, I don't really care, I don't need the lectures.

I know that anyone reading this would be thinking, oh surely, Trixie, this is so not a big deal. And it probably wouldn't be if it wasn't coupled with drama no. 2 -- the karate school soap opera. More on that tomorrow. If I'm not dead from High School Musical overload.