Aspiring to Greatness...or at least aspiring to keep a few plants alive through the summer

The past several days I've been working pretty hard in the backyard...moving topsoil, digging up rocks, planting hostas. And TADA! Here's the finished product...doesn't it look beautiful?

Okay, so this isn't actually MY backyard. It's my mom's. The pictures of my backyard are trapped in my camera sitting at my grandma's house where I took pictures of her and the family for her 94th Birthday (Go Grandma!).

This afternoon, my parents and I moved rocks over and over and over again to form my new stone path from the deck to the driveway. If I don't trip and break and ankle before we get those suckers planted in the ground, it will be no small miracle. Actual pictures of my backyard will follow - however, they'll only be a disappointment after viewing the glory of my parents' backyard. (I've been trying to get Dan to paint me a painting of this backyard for years, but he's too busy working on his own fancy projects. Talent is such a burden.)

Must We Return to the Eighties?

On my recent trip to Easton with my comrads Cassie and Rita, I became aware of an alarming issue: Eighties fashions have returned. With a Vengence. The puffy sleeves, the pants cinched at the bottom, and even these belts. These belts were on sale at JCrew. In the ladies section. Not the children's section. The LADIES section. Cassie commented that JCrew is maliciously taking advantage of our childhoods. All of the things that our parents wouldn't buy for us as children are now waved in front of our faces, ripe for the picking. But tell me, guys, if you are out there, would you find a girl wearing a whale print belt sexy?

I had this very belt when I was a kid (my belly was much smaller then). THIS VERY BELT! As a...ahem...29-year-old woman, I cannot imagine the appropriate context in which I would wear this belt again.
As for the rest of the eighties fashions, I say this: I will fight whole-heartedly against the exit of bootcut, lowrise pants. I will write my congressmen to prevent the full-fledged acceptance of puffy sleeves. I will picket the White House against the prolific wearing of pegged jeans! And I will not, under any circumstances wear a button-down shirt untucked with an enormous belt over the top!! Can we not learn from history?!

When Did You Last Have a Stranger's Fingers in Your Mouth?

I'll be honest. The dentist is by far my least favorite doctor. You'd think he wouldn't be. I mean a dentist isn't going to weigh you, he's not going to ask you to take your clothes off, he's not going to have you laying on a table with feet in stirrups and probe you in private places with cold instruments. None of that. He just asks you to sit in a comfy chair, fully clothed, and open your mouth wide for a little while. Still, I hate the dentist. I fear the dentist. I loathe the dentist. I actually bit my last dentist. And unfortunately, now that I'm an adult and can make my own choices, I've chosen to avoid the dentist for far too long.

It's time to go back. It's time to face the music. Why now, you might ask? Well, if you read the New York Times Sunday Edition this week, I don't think you'd be asking that question. In the front section was an article discussing the status of dental care in Britain. Did you know that in Britain, drug stores actually sell emergency dental kits. You know, just in case you need to have a tooth pulled and can't find a dentist to do it. Apparently, the state of public dental care is in such disarray that this problem ranks as high as gas prices and the Iraq War in the minds of the public. Poor people often have to take it upon themselves to cure what ails them, toothaches and all.

Just the notion of "autoextraction" sends chills down my spine and forces me to think this: "Don't be stupid, Katie. Use your damn dental insurance! Enjoy that novocaine!"

So, I leave you with this last question - does anyone know a good dentist??

This is from the archives...

Literally, actually. This picture was just returned to my mom from McNicholas High School (cheers to my dad for a lovely web page) after several years. Donna, Dee and I were so young. So naive to the ways of the world back then. 15 years old? Maybe 16?
What would I give to be able to fit in those pants again??

I may be liberal, but even this made me tense.

If you haven't heard, Stephen Colbert (formerly of the Daily Show and currently of the Colbert Report) recently roasted President Bush at the White House Correspondant Dinner this weekend. He was amazingly biting - Jon Stewart's appearance on CNN pales in comparison.
Here's the video. Check it out, but I warn you - it's brutal...as the truth often is.

Another Door Softly Closes Behind Me

This weekend I walked up the church steps with some trepidation. It's not everyday you witness your ex marrying someone else. I wasn't sure how painful it would be to watch the man I knew for so long I would marry walk down the isle with someone else. And although we have years and dramas and loves between our unravelling and the present, it all rushes back in a moment at the sight of the joyful tears in his eyes and the sound of the choke in his throat, his smiles and his easy cajolings. Except now, none of it is for me.

Thankfully, it all felt more surreal than painful. I watched with awed curiosity as the wedding unfolded and the vows were exchanged. It felt, for lack of a better analogy, like watching the movie of my life acted out by a stand-in.

It is sad, in a way, the things we leave behind. But in more ways, it is incredible and inspiring to see how far each of us have walked since our college years. We are on our proper paths and those paths parted long ago. I suppose it doesn't hurt to turn back around one last time, nod at each other, and continue on our way.

Brian, thank you for giving me some of the best years of my life, some of my most cherished memories, some of my most important lessons. I'm leaving any remaining sadness, any remaining regret right here. At this door closing. I love you. I'm sorry. And I'm so very happy that you have found true and lasting joy.