Boo

Every week I tutor an adorable 7-year-old for an hour. She's a little chatterbox, so we spend a little time getting to know each other before starting her homework (example: I recently discovered that her favorite singer is Beyonce, but she doesn't like when she sings with that white girl Lady Gaga).

This week we were working on graphs. After a few minutes of me trying to explain what "one-third" is and getting nothing but a blank stare, I ran to the supply room to grab some scrap paper. (Math's not my strong point, but we kick butt when we practice reading.) I came back already chatting away about pieces of pie, but stop abruptly as I look around and see an empty room.

Panic.

I've lost a fair number of things in my life, but this would be the first child to disappear on me. My mind immediately jumps to the conversation I'll have to have with her adorable grandparents, what her brother will think, if I'll be in the newspaper --

"BOO."

She jumps out from behind the door. Relief, right? Wrong. As I've mentioned before, I am a giant scaredy-cat and if you startle me, I'm likely to start shaking, curl into a ball, or maybe claw you in defense. Unfortunately this little girl is not a reader of my blog and thought she was pulling a cute prank on her tutor. She expected a laugh, so when she got a shriek instead she was understandably upset.

My heart rate calmed after a few seconds and I immediately tried to comfort her, telling her I thought her joke was really funny and trying to laugh off my reaction. I pulled her in for a hug, but apparently was still a little shaky because I hit her mouth with my shoulder in the process. She pulled away, smiled and said:

"You hit my tooth."

We had discussed earlier how loose her tooth was, and sure enough, there was her top chomper hanging on at a weird angle, enjoying its last few minutes in her mouth by decorating the surrounding gum red with a little blood.

I hadn't experienced losing a tooth in a long time (my little brother has pretty much moved out of that stage) but some sort of instinct must have kicked in as I coached her in pulling it out, got a wet paper towel and ice for her to chew on, helped wash off the newly freed tooth, and constructed a little tooth fairy pouch for her to take the little guy home in.

Once we had settled back in and pulled out our Dr. Suess book, she paused, turned to me and flashed a huge, toothless smile. And all was well in the world.

victoria falls

This is my new dream. Awesome.

here we go

The couple seated behind me in the coffee shop where I've parked myself for the day to look for jobs is meeting with a wedding planner. While I managed to keep my face in my New Yorker my ears were at their table as they pieced together their dream wedding. As I eavesdropped, their choices began to seem kind of weird to me: the bridesmaids were wearing red, blue, and yellow dresses? Groomsmen in black tuxes with yellow shirts? A lot of talk about "the field?"

Then it clicked. A Steelers-themed wedding.

At which point I inconspicuously turned to sneak a peek at the couple. I saw a young, blond wedding planner, a pretty girl in a red sweater, and the fiance in a Troy Polamalu jersey with a black and gold Super Bowl jacket draped over his chair.

"I didn't want to hire a wedding planner 'cuz I thought you'd just make like phone calls and stuff, and I was like, 'I could do that,' but this is great, you can help us get like black and yellow napkins and stuff. Do you think we could get Steelers keychains and engrave the our names in them as favors?" - him.

"I mean, I think one of our biggest problems is going to be that my dad is a Cowboys fan" - her.

Oh man. Another reminder that adjusting to the atmosphere of this city (even fitting in with Colin and his crew, who are decidedly less psychotic about Ben and gang - there was no talk of walking down the aisle to "Pittsburgh's going to the Super Bowl") is going to take some serious work. Maybe I should be thankful that the Steelers didn't make the playoffs this year - more time to study.

oh, oh-ten

Hi 2010. I know we're rather recent acquaintances, but I feel like old friends. I've been thinking about you a lot over the past year, worrying, dreading, dreaming about our life together and what it would hold. Maybe that's why our several-week-old relationship feels more like 12 years than 12 days.

We met in Grand Rapids, sitting on Colin's couch. My eyes may still have been a bit puffy from mourning the passage of the last 22 years and all the changes they've brought, but by the time you came around I was happily chatting with my best friend about the year ahead and the exciting promise it held. Marriage? Apartment? Job? School? I felt ready for it all.

You came home with me and met my family, laughed and planned and played with us. I resented you when you asked me to pack up my clothes and sort through piles of memories and get in Roger on the road to Pittsburgh, but I did it. It hurt but I did it.

And now here we are in Pittsburgh and you were right. Time passes and it's not a bad thing. As I look out the window of this coffee shop and see the snow falling down, I'm thankful for you and the chance to see and and enjoy a new place. To write about its peculiarities. I mean, any place as obsessed with sports as this town is merits more than a few blog entries, I'm sure.

here it comes

Sitting here trying to sort through the happenings of the past weeks, I realize why you don't wait over a month to update your blog. What is most important - coming home, spending time with family, seeing old friends, wedding planning? What's funniest - an hour-long "quiet game" among my siblings (involving fake marriage proposals over text messages in an attempt to induce exclamations)? A dead guinea pig lying in his cage on our front porch for days to wait out the snowstorm that made grave digging impossible?

I'm in Wisconsin now visiting my mom's family and hanging out with my grandparents. Last night was our big family Christmas party. Since my mom is the youngest of her brothers and sisters, I had years of being classified as one of the "little kids," even when the majority of that group was in high school and college. Not anymore. I'm not sure I noticed the complete takeover by the great-grandchildren until this year, but they are plenty, they are cute and they are loud.

My "I'm old" revelation helped me as I tried to wrap my head around the wedding shower my aunts and uncles threw me at the party. Judging the toilet paper wedding dress competition was easy enough - it was brimming with the familiar goofiness that my family is oh-so-good at. But opening presents of bakeware and tablecloths while everyone looked on hit me in the face one more time with the life that's coming. (I already have two black eyes and a bloody lip from the wedding planning that took place over the weekend.)

I'm so excited about everything that's coming up, but I don't think you can move home from a different country and find a whole new life waiting for you to plan it without a few oh-my-gosh-what-am-I-doing moments. Yes, I get overwhelmed. Yes, I escape by watching "Glee" online, getting really into a weird acapella singing competition on TV and dancing around the kitchen to Mariah with my awesome siblings.

But I also lay awake at night grinning as I think about all that will happen in the next year - so many firsts, relationships that will grow, life with my best friend. A new city to blog about! A graceful transition to aim for. It's coming, and I can't wait.