Category Archives: A Day In The Life

He’s A Keeper

Nothing brings out the humor in life like big events: funerals, weddings….BABIES.

Well friends, pregnancy has brought out some great lines from my sweet Baby Daddy.

Here’s a sampling for your enjoyment.

——

Somanna: So people at work are really excited for us.

Me: Aww that’s sweet.

Somanna: Yea….especially when I tell them it’s your first.

—–
Two weeks after learning about the proverbial bun in the oven, we’re out and about running errands in town….

Somanna: Hey! You wanna grab a drink somewhere?!

—–
Also in the early weeks of shock pregnancy….while discussing a myriad plans for 2014…
Me: Well, it’ll depend. We ‘ll just have to see how it goes. You’ll need to save some PTO (paid time off) for May.
Somanna:  What do I need to save my PTO for?

—-
Somanna, very emphatically: You are carrying my CHILD!

(Pauses)

Yea, I’m glad it’s you. I mean, that’s cool.

—–

Me:  What do you want the baby to call you? Daddy? Papa? Pop?

Somanna, deadpan in a deep Indian head bobble accent: Father.

—–

Upon walking into Babies R ‘Us for the first time last weekend:

Somanna: Wow. Shit just got real, son!

—–

Me: Perhaps we should take baby CPR. You know, so we don’t kill the baby.

Somanna: Nah, we can just Google it.

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Filed under A Day In The Life, Laugh in, Oh Baby!, we're in Lurrrvvv

Dusting This Thing Off

Well. According to the calendar, it is September 16, 2012.

I am not exactly sure how that happened. Last time I checked it was oh, about August 1st. And suddenly October is bearing down on me. (Insert WTF here).

Dear Reader (if you even exist, which I highly doubt). This summer was many things, but probably the most of which was BUSY. And unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on  your perspective – I think it’s a bit of both), this fall looks to be no different.

I can’t really put my finger on what has changed …maybe I’m getting older and slower, maybe its our current daytime gigs, but our whole work/life balance is out of whack. I used to have a handle on things.  And now..I don’t remember where I last put the handle down and it doesn’t matter anyways because I’m running late and have to head out the door. Parents, hats off to you because I really just don’t know how you do it.  Consider me stumped.

But despite all that, we’re doing ok.  And we’re trying really hard to shift the scales more in the life direction and less in the work direction. Because that’s important too. So that’s exactly what this post is all about: taking action, no matter how small the step. Instead of constantly thinking vague thoughts like “I should blog more,” I decided to be more specific and establish some basic goals:

-Step 1: Write a post and publish it no matter what.

-Step 2: Write a second post, with pictures, and publish it within a week of the first post.

Here’s to already checking off step 1 and more importantly, to moving more in the direction I want to go in.

Balance feels good.

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Filed under A Day In The Life, Bloggin' It Up

The problems of a first world white woman in a multi-cultural relationship…

So in case you haven’t figured it out yet, Somanna is Indian. Like In-dee-yaahh with tea and curry and call centers. Not Indian with tepees, tomahawks and sports mascots. Just to use a few racist generalizations 😉

To further state the obvious, we live in America. The United States. North Carolina. Asheville, my beloved little Southern mountain town.

Our day-to-day lives are pretty American. Specifically white, middle class. (Can you tell I minored in sociology? Yay Liberal Arts!) As much as we love Western North Carolina, the fact is – it’s just not a terribly diverse area. Definitely one of the cons.

I grew up on Southern, American food. I cook Southern, American food. I have a Southern accent, we live in my home state and both the activities of our lives and the aesthetics are very much American. Very Western.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Except.

Except that one of us is not Western / American by origin.

So how do I create a home that reflects that? How do other intercultural couples or even just couples with vastly different aesthetics approach decorating their home? That is the question I’m posing to the interwebs tonight.

I desperately want our new home’s decor to showcase both our backgrounds and perhaps highlight Somanna’s background a bit more. If I can’t take the sweet man home but every two years, then damn it I’m going to bring home to him. I want a space that reminds him of touches of home both in India and Zambia (yeah – he grew up in Zambia – it’s wonderfully complicated :))

So how does one do this? I’ve found a few decorating blogs on Indian decor and I’ve searched Amazon for some books. And of course, Pinterest. I need inspiration. Indian Inspiration!

If you’ve got any suggestions: resources, tips, links, blogs, books, pictures, magazines, movies, places to shop, anything – I’m all ears.

Or words.

Whatever.  I’ll take it!

Help a sister out y’all!

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Filed under A Day In The Life, Cultural Confusion, la casa

How To Look Like a Complete Moron Without Really Trying

(Real names have been changed to protect the innocent.  How I wish I was referring to myself.)

So I recently met a new neighbor.

I bombed it yall.

Here’s how it went down.

As my new neighbor crossed the yard to introduce himself, he extended his hand and said in one breath, ” Hi, I’m Josmith.” No pause, no break. One word.

I, of course, returned his handshake and introduced myself, first name only. This prompts him to ask for my last name. I obliged. And then sincerely asked, “And yours?”

To which he responds, slightly perplexed: “Joe.(Pause).Smith.”

Oh.

Riiiight. Joe (PAUSE-IDIOT) Smith. Because really, who in the hell names their kid “josmith.”

Later during the course of our pleasantries, he inquired on where we work, etc and I explained that Somanna works with ultra low temperature freezers. This excites Mr. Neighbor as he apparently took not one, but two courses on thermodynamics (one was an elective even!) because he enjoyed the subject so much. Don’t.we.all!

And then he said,”I’m sure your husband has found a lot of parallels between moving and entropy.” (huh, huh – geeky science joke.)

“MmmmHmmm,” I nodded enthusiastically. “Bless his heart.” (It’s the standard Southern reply – works for almost any situation. Except for maybe this one.)

My neighbor eyed me, cocks his head to the side and said,

“Do you know what entropy means?”

You have two choices in moments like these. Lie your ass off or own it with all the awkwardness of Liz Lemon. Feeling an unspoken bond of dark hair, thick brows and awkward humor with Tina Fey, I opted for the later.

Me, stammering: “No…I uh, no I don’t know what that means.”

This admission was followed by INCESSANT grinning, foot shifting and possible hair twirling.

I just got CALLED OUT YO! In my face!

And then I got schooled as Mr. Neighbor-Man-With-Two-Names explained entropy with an analogy involving dust bunnies. Because clearly he thought that since I don’t do “science speak” perhaps reaching me through the feminine realm of domestic chores would be more my speed.

At this point, I had one single shred of dignity left.

Which I successfully annihilated by shoving my ringing cell phone, complete with this cheesy photo of Somanna in Mr.Joe – PAUSE-Smith’s face squealing “This is my husband, see?!!”

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Yes, because I’m sure Mr. Neighbor man would have confused him with all of the other 6’3 Indian men on our street.

Why stop at third, when home plate is so close?

Grand Slam yall. Grand &*$%ing slam.

*Drops mic and walks offstage…….

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Filed under A Day In The Life, Laugh in, the drama queen

Moving Lessons

Here’s the thing about moving.

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IT SUCKS.

OMG how it sucks!!! It’s traumatic really. Once, way back circa 2001, I saw a “Behind the Music” (remember those?!) with Melissa Etheridge and she reminisced on a time when she could pack her car with all her belongings and just go. She described that time in her life as “freeing.” So wise Melissa, so wise. Just don’t come to my window Melissa. That’s a little scurry.

I thought about that quote a lot, as we hauled an obscene amount of crap from wee apartment to spacious house. (Seriously, how did it all fit in there?) When did the crap become so important that you couldn’t part with it? When did my agrarian instincts surpass stomp out with gleeful abandon the nomadic ones?

Internal instinctual battles aside, we are happy to be here, in this space and place. But I ain’t gonna lie. Moving is rough. A combination of things made this move feel particularly rougher.

So Dear Reader, here are the top ten lessons from our move. Learn from these errors, you must. Only then will you become a Jedi Master who can move things stress free with the Force.

10.) Hire movers.  This may seem an obvious point, as you are, you know, moving. But to a cheap skate and an idealist like me, this was unnecessary. Somanna voiced doubts and I dismissed them with the enthusiasm of a 15-year-old trapped in a 30-year-old body. Long story short, I waited too long and there were no movers available. Except for our backs and some neighbors & friends who took pity. Thank you kind neighbors and friends! Our backs are indebted to you.

9.) Try to take some time off of work to help you manage the chaos. Feeling stingy with vacation time, we opted to keep on working during all of the hullabaloo. This led to decreased productivity at work (sshh! That’s our little secret, mmkay?) and an increased consumption of chocolate, fried foods and milkshakes.

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8.) Accept the inevitable: shi*t will break, you will revert to the diet of a frat boy, the exercise routine of an invalid and bonus points if you are buying a foreclosure, you will uncover some fun little surprises. Like leaky sinks, hooray! You will also spend a lot of frivolous money on stupid stuff, because you can’t find half of your stuff. Roll with it. The righteous can suck it, broken things will get fixed later and so you have some extra paper towels on hand. There are bigger crises in the world.

7.) Don’t limit the amount of time you have the moving truck. The laws of time bend in weird ways during moving. It takes you approximately three hours to load the truck and 25 minutes to unload it. I don’t $%&*ing understand! What sort of Harry Potter physics is this?   All the boxes were packed ahead of time?!

Anyways, the last thing you want is to make desperate phone calls to the truck rental office at 5:30 pm (ahem, when they close) begging for a few more hours. Especially when your cell phone signal is shoddy at your new house. There are healthier ways to test the strength of your marriage. Good times, my friends, good times.

6.) Unless you are the 1% of super-humans who can not only function but thrive in times of chaos, do not start massive home projects during the moving period. Such as say, ripping up your laundry room floor.

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Let the 1% brag all they damn like about how much they accomplished in a 26 hour day. The rest of us normal folks have to focus on survival. Forget all that junk your teachers told you about aiming for the stars and having goals. Survival qualifies as a goal and mediocrity will get you there.

5.) Space out your vendor deliveries, installations and visitors (if possible). Within 1 hour on moving day, I had delivery guys, uh delivering appliances (which prompted a whole other chain of problematic events – see item # 4), a neighbor stopping by to introduce himself, another friend visiting to assist with said problems caused by delivery guys, cute kiddos running around and Somanna calling me telling to hurry back over because the clock is ticking on the moving truck and what is taking me so long? Then the cable guy walked in, it was 2:30 and I still hadn’t eaten lunch.

Did you know my head can spin?

It’s true. Just ask the cable guy. He was pretty impressed. The kids were mostly scared.

4.) Measure and measure well for your appliances.  Of course you’ll think to measure the space the appliance will actually go in. Ya-duh. We’re not that dumb. But did you think to measure all the doorways that appliance will have to go through to get to its little home sweet home? Yea, neither did we. OOPS. Thanks a lot Mr. Sales Guy. And since we have an older home, some of those doorways are pretty narrow. Which can lead to this:

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Yup, had to rip down the trim to get the fridge into the kitchen. Because the door jamb stuck out 1/4 of an inch – A QUARTER OF AN INCH PEOPLE!- and thus, the fridge would not fit through the doorway into the kitchen.

So down it went, and a few days later, in went the new fridge.

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Except it was TOO BIG. Oh yes, it fit in the space (barely), but it had ZERO breathing room. Which is kind of recommended because:

  1. you need some space in the back for cords,
  2. you need space around all three sides so that your appliance can “breathe” and operate more efficiently,
  3. by providing such space you prevent mold or mildew from growing on the walls (due to the excess heat from the appliance), and
  4. Because it just looks better to have a fridge proportional to your space than having a behemoth appliance in the corner.

Again, thank you Mr. Sales Guy. You failed to inform two novice refrigerator buyers of these  important considerations during our lengthy and multiple shopping trips.

20120630-190941.jpg(Fridge # 2 in the living room – Be jealous.)

20120630-190954.jpg(Behemoth fridge waiting to be removed from the kitchen.)

20120630-190924.jpg(Buh-bye monster fridge!)

20120630-191024.jpg(Final Fridge in and assembled, Oh HAPPY DAY!)

It was refrigerator stress for a solid 3 weeks – ugh.

3.) If at all possible, try not to go to a 4 day work conference 5 days after you have moved (and were working). This makes thing especially crazy at both work and home. On the plus side, you get to sleep in a nice hotel for four nights. On the downside, you return exhausted.

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2.) Remember not to pack up your pets.

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(Ok, that didn’t really happen.)

1.)    Appreciate the small things – which are really big things. Laugh. Breathe.  Drink. In that order, otherwise you’ll snort your drink through your nose and that’s just plain wasteful.

Appreciate the small things. Like awesome housewarming gifts, complete with cleaning supplies and beer 🙂

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Breathe when you learn your Grandmother is in the hospital and your friends could really use a hand. Laugh when you trip holding the dresser and give yourself a goose egg that your loving husband describes as “looking like a horn is about to push through your forehead.”

Laugh when you set the kitchen towel on fire because you accidentally turned on the wrong burner on the stovetop.

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Revel in the martyrdom, because this too shall pass.

And it will make one hell of a story.

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Filed under A Day In The Life, Moving On Up!

Some real gems

Somanna has had some good ones here lately.

Exhibit A:  In the throes of debating THE BIG HOUSE decision and fretting over every possible scenario that could ever happen to us (the economy, layoffs,aging parents, bankruptcy, pregnancy, the election, cancer, bodily dismemberment, alien abductions, your normal worries…) Somanna attempted to comfort me with this nugget of wisdom:

“Don’t worry. Just remember God’s quote…you know, the one, uh.. how does it go?”

Me: “You mean verse?”

Somanna: “Yes! That’s it, God’s verse!”

Me: “Maybe we should go to church more often…”

Exhibit B:

Me: “I mean this house is awesome, I can see us here for 10 years!”

Somanna: “Really? 10 years?!?? I can’t see anything for that long!”

(BIG PAUSE)

Somanna: “Except for you know, being married to you. I mean, that’s like FOR-EVER! youknowwhati’msaying?!”

 

 

You just can’t script these things yall.

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Filed under A Day In The Life, Cultural Confusion, the drama queen

An Open Letter

Dear Lady on the Other Side of the Cube Wall,

Thank you for blaring country music all day at work just loud enough so I can hear it, but not decipher the artist or song. Because of your inability  to properly interpret “appropriate volume levels,” I now hear phantom twang and fiddles everywhere I go. To the point, I “turned off” my kitchen radio before I realized it wasn’t even on.

I do not mean to hate on country music, I am foremost a fan and a secondly a Southerner, but I think most would agree the listening to squeaky fiddles and nasal voices for eight hours continuously ranks somewhere underneath water boarding, but above sleep deprivation. In other words, it is the torture choice of the mundane.

Secondly, I try real hard not to eavesdrop honey, but surely you realize a cubicle wall provides about as much privacy as a paper gown during a gynecological exam. I’m going hear and see things that the Good Lord never intended me to witness. So if you could reserve your family drama for the lunch hour, or at least my lunch hour, my gratitude would surpass the twitching caused by the incessant fiddles. (Make them stop, please!)

Also, you could be a little nicer. I sometimes wonder if your head has been replaced by a spitting cobra the way you hiss on the phone at presumably your family – surely no one would choose to endure your behavior . I try to pray for you (for both of us really) because, much to my unintended efforts, I have come to learn that you have a loved one who is ill and perhaps that is the source of your stress and hatefulness.

Until I run into you in the bathroom ,or the hallway, or some other common area, and attempt to engage the simple pleasantries, much like the ones your radio station sings about. This is almost always met with warmth of a thousand deadly icicles.  I am trying here sweetie, so please work with me and give me something. An awkward smile, a blank stare, something a little less frightening than your impersonation of Kathy Bates from Misery.

Again, I know you are under stress. So I will continue to pray for you.

I just might pray for me more.

Love,

Peaches

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Filed under A Day In The Life, the drama queen, wtf mate