Archive for » December, 2009 «

The Softer Side
27
December
by TouchedByMadness

You might have noticed that there hasn’t been a whole lot of activity on this blog lately. So I’m doing the only sensible thing I can think of since I can’t find the time to write anymore – start a SECOND blog.

Hear me out.

I haven’t been writing because I’m never in my office. I’m always in the kitchen baking up mountains of incredibly tempting desserts. I briefly considered posting some recipes on TouchedByMadness, but they didn’t seem to fit here.

I decided I wanted a place to express the newer, more domestic side of me -  The Stacey with rolled up sleeves and frilly aprons. The Stacey that goes curtain shopping. The Stacey that has come to terms with the color pink.

It kinda creeps me out, but it seems there is a happy little homemaker somewhere inside me. And she will be posting brownie recipes over at http://cupcakeapron.com.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go figure out how to make buttermilk.

 

Category: Uncategorized  2 Comments
Private
25
December
by TouchedByMadness

Sorry about the password protected post. It’s not really my story to tell, so I don’t want it public, but it’s definitely something I’m trying to work through myself. If you want to read, let me know.

Category: Random  One Comment
Protected: Unhappily Ever After
25
December
by TouchedByMadness

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(Almost) One Year Ago
19
December
by TouchedByMadness

At 7am the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“What did you get for Christmas?”

“Mmmmm? I don’t know, Mom. I was asleep. We don’t start Christmas at 6am in our house.”

“Sorry, baby. I’ll call you back later.”

I tried to doze again. After about an hour of fitful slumber, I gave up and went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of hot chocolate. The Captain appeared soon thereafter. Curled up on the couch in our pajamas, we decided that the best activity for drowsy people was opening Christmas presents.

I pulled out the gifts from under the tree and stacked them in front of the Captain. He produced a small box from his pocket, handed it to me, and dug into his pile of packages.

I opened my gift. Pearl earrings. I said my “Oooohs” and “Ahhhhs” and set the box aside. The Captain gave me a kiss and returned to his presents.

He unwrapped.

And unwrapped.

And unwrapped.

After awhile I began to feel that this gift-giving thing seemed somewhat one-sided and that clearly one of us was spoiled.

Finally the Captain finished opening his presents. He leaned towards me, presumably to thank me for my obvious generosity, and pulled a small box from his other pocket.

I unwrapped a second tiny package and opened it. And stared.

At about the time my sleepy brain began to understand what I was looking at, I felt the Captain’s lips near my ear.

“Will you marry me?”

Category: Adventures in Adulthood, Memoir, Relationships, Wedding  5 Comments
Uncharitable
11
December
by TouchedByMadness

I step out into the cold. With a harried expression, I attempt to simultaneously slip my hands into my gloves and fumble for my keys. The bag of groceries on my left wrist twists and turns and bangs against my kneecap. The canvas bag on my right shoulder slips down to my elbow. I grab the handles tightly before I drop anything. When I look up, I am greeted by a round, warm face.

“Merry Christmas,” the woman says. Her smile is genuine.

I feel like an ass. Between my full hands and my empty wallet, this is one more charity I won’t be donating to this year.

The holidays are a time for giving. For helping those less fortunate. I’m reminded of that at every store I visit. The cashier collects for one cause. The bell-ringer outside collects for another. Donation bins line the walkways. Multiple people ask me for money at each stop I make. I could never afford to give to them all, but each time I say no, I’m filled with an ugly feeling.

I wish I could buy my bag of cat food without the side of guilt, but as I walk past the red donation pot without giving, I wonder if the bell-ringer is judging me. All the way to my car I try to remind myself that I’m not a terrible person.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe it.

Category: Blogging Is Cheaper Than Therapy  6 Comments