Category Archives: memories

A Look Back: Nick & Nora

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“I talked to my father the other day,” Nick said. Just like always, his driver’s side window was down, the A/C blasted into the tiny cab of his truck. Because of this his left arm was constantly hanging out the window leaving him with a permanent farmer’s tan. 

“Oh, about what?” I said absentmindedly, thinking it had something to do with the status of the MU Tigers or some other sports-related thing, as that is all they ever bonded over.  The country road whizzed by as they barreled down the highway to a farm party or some such activity, a country music station fizzled as the antennae searched for a signal.

” A jeweler. He gave me the name of the family jeweler so that when I’m ready, I can call and get you a ring.” He said it just like that. No fanfare. No trying to be secretive about. To Nick’s credit, he did have a sparkle in his eyes and a smile played on his lips as he glanced toward’s the passenger seat, waiting for my reaction.

” Ah. Well. That’s… exciting.” That was not the response I wanted to come out of my mouth. Immediately my stomach twisted up into knots, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Had he really just said “you” and “ring” in the same sentence? Meaning engagement. I was only 21, and even at that a young 21. Had you asked me then, I would have told you I’d be married by 24, not 21.

In an instant my life flashed before my eyes. I’d be forced to accept a job with the State Government, to be a drone, day in and day out. The only benefit to that, I thought, was the extreme amount of holidays and vacation days I would be forced to take. And maybe the fact that there wineries and beautiful countryside near by. Within a few years we’d buy a house in the countryside, adopt a few more dogs and before I knew it I’d be barefoot and pregnant.

It would have been a life of quiet. Of comfort.  Of minimal passion and little romance. Of little ambition for as great as Nick was, he made it clear that he never wanted to leave this town. I was afraid the promise of love and marriage wouldn’t be enough to keep me in the town where he grew up, which was 30 minutes away from the State Capitol.

It was a life that I was unsure I wanted. After 18 months of dating I felt terrible thinking that but I just couldn’t envision myself living in a smaller town for the rest of my life. We made it through my undergraduate graduation, somehow, and then through Christmas. New Year’s came and went, which we spent apart; a telltale sign. We made the decisions to go our separate ways; each of us in search of individual adventures.

Nick found his: finishing college, switching jobs, getting married and adopting his wife’s child.

And as for me, well, I’ve had adventures in dating, in love, in jobs, in trips, with friends and family. I know that one day I’ll find a man who I’m meant to have lifelong adventures with and when he mentions the idea of THE ring? I won’t want to throw up in my mouth.

I’m glad that my 21 year-old self was wrong about me getting married at 24.

Moments of Nostalgia

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Something about cooler temps, blustery evenings, leaves blowing across the sidewalk… it all makes me nostalgic.

The sounds of the marching band drift through the air on Thursday and Friday nights as they play at halftime and when touchdowns are scored.
Was it really 12 years ago that I was part of that band? That I was marching on the field, playing my flute, enjoying my high school days? We traveled via bus, won competitions, had end of the season parties at my parents house. I look at my flute now and it seems so foreign to me. I wonder if I can get out any notes…

There are signs posted for the big Homecoming game and dance, girls are all abuzz at the mall looking for the perfect dress.
Is it possible that I haven’t been to a formal dance since 2001? The thrill of  your crush asking you to the dance, finding the dress, the big reveal when your date picks you up, getting your hair and make-up done, looking forward to the after party. I recently stumbled upon an album with high school photos. We really did make such a big deal out of Homecoming, didn’t we!?

{ via }

The stores are filling up with Halloween costumes and candy, the children in the neighborhood are chatting about what superhero/princess/concept they will be in less than two months.
It seems like ages ago that I was dressed up as a ballet dancer or going to Halloween scavenger hunt parties with friends. I miss the giggling as we ran down the streets, fighting the sleep that was inevitable because we absolutely had to fill up our pillow case full of candy.

The Mizzou Mascot is all over the place this time of year with many people in STL traveling to Mizzou for football games. The roar of the crowd. The excitement of tailgating. People flooding the streets after the game in celebration (or perhaps defeat).
How can it be that it has been six years since I graduated from undergrad? From living with some of my best friends, enjoying the full-time student days, figuring out where I wanted to go in this world? Thank goondess I am able to go back every once in awhile.

No matter how nostalgic I am, I always look forward to the new memories I’ll be making this fall and so far it looks like there will be a lot of them: fall farm party, graduate school graduation, weddings, football games and roadtrips just to name a few.

What are you nostalgic about this time of year?

It's Rex Manning Day!*

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(* Or how all I watched in Middle School was Empire Records)

Tuesday was a Primary Election day in the great State of Missouri which meant only one thing: I had to go back to hell my middle school since it’s my polling place. I don’t know about you, but middle school for me was full of awkward interactions with boys, wearing stupid oversized t-shirts that I secretly hated, wearing crazy shades of nailpolish like bright yellow and blue on my nails, dealing with pimples and bad haircuts, and trying to get the hot guy in the class to notice me while I was wearing said oversized t-shirts with pimples on my face. Let’s just chalk it up to three years of mostly ICK. 

Fortunately I did have a “crew” that I hung out with every single weekend for those three years. We took turns going to each other’s house, a mix of both boys and girls (before we figured out that boys and girls couldn’t *just* be friends) where we would eat junk food to fill our bottomless stomachs (ah, the days when calories didn’t matter and I could wear any bikini I wanted without feeling self-conscious), rock out to music from Cake (please see Exhibit A), The Beatles (we enjoyed rediscovering their music) and They Might Be Giants (they were cool in the mid 1990s, I promise. See Exhibit B), play board games and of course it just wasn’t a get together without our cult movie, Empire Records (see Exhibit C).

We’d act out the scenes. Sing the soundtrack. Shout “It’s Rex Manning Day!” at the top of our lungs. Dance all around whichever basement we were hanging out in that evening. This was our routine, our safety net during a time of such uncertainty and confusion about changing bodies, peer pressure and whatever else our adolescent minds were trying to grasp.

I think we had early curfews then, aka when mom and dad would pick us up, but each time the evening came to an end we’d promise to do it again next weekend. And we did. We even did it here and there in high school for old times sake. Although our friend group shifted a bit in high school when our paths crossed we’d smile and say “It’s Rex Manning Day!” to one another all the while being silently thankful that we had each other to lean on and grow up with for those few years.

Any particular movie or group of friends get you through middle school or your least favorite part of your teen years?

**(Don’t forget to enter the giveaway to win all-natural bug sprays & insecticides and check out my Vlogging Everyday in August progress so far!)**

Exhibit A: Cake’s cover of “I Will Survive.” I can’t even tell you how many times we listened to this song.

Exhibit B: They Might Be Giants, Birdhouse in Your Soul (still love this song)

Exhibit C: Various favorite scenes from Empire Records

386 Mushrooms

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Last weekend Darling and I set out on a mission: Operation Help Gram Sort Through the millions (okay, thousands?) of Photos she owns. I know that people are sentimental but my gram has pictures of ancestors even she doesn’t know, awkward prom photos of me and my HSB (high school boyfriend), photos of clouds and countless other subjects. It’s really quite sweet that she’s saved all of them over the years, but they are taking up space in at least four or five file-size storage boxes, so we promised to help her out.

The plan was simple: Gram would sort photos into cohesive piles, preferably with a theme (aka Memorial Days through the years, childhood photos, my grandfather) and then Darling and I would scrap them onto 12 x12 pages for her to insert into her photo album of choice. (Side note: I love to scrapbook. Yet another hobby I can’t wait to start on when I’m done with my MBA. This means that I have oodles of supplies, paper, stickers, borders, ideas, etc.)

Lately I’ve really been missing my grandfather, even though it’s been over 13 years since he died, so I took it upon myself to work on a few pages of Poppy from when his time during and just after he served in the US Army. Gram had all sorts of neat tidbits and photos of him from that time, so it was really quite easy. Then I came upon this picture (apologies for the quality, but I only had my blackberry on me and we know how unreliable those cameras are):

The photo is of my grandfather outside a taxidermy store, holding the paw of the giant bear that you see there. The caption, scrawled on the back of the photo, in my grandfather’s unmistakable handwriting  says “386 Mushrooms.” I looked at the front of the photo and I see nothing about mushrooms anywhere on the ground, on the sign above the door. Nothing. Gram had no idea what it means either.

Perhaps it was for the 386 Mushrooms that needed to be purchased to make dinner for his batallion? Or was it a nickname? The name of a song? Some weird code word? Times like this I wish Poppy were here so I could ask him what that meant because I’m sure he’d remember, chuckle, and share the story with me.

Any thoughts or creative ideas as to what it could mean?

My (Fur) Baby's 6th Birthday

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It’s hard to believe sometimes that Jack went from this (Nora aged 20, Jack aged 10-12 weeks):

to this (Jack, aged almost 6):

The day I adopted Jack, my College Boyfriend and I were incredibly bored. Having exhausted the mall, walking around campus and perusing the bookstore, we decided to stop by the Humane Society.

From behind the barbwired cage, Jack looked at up me with the puppy eyes (which he still reserves when he really wants something), pleading with me to take him home. We played with him for an hour and when it was time for us to leave, he whined. My heart was both broken and over the moon in love with him. After a brief “fight” with my landlord (the lease I signed said I was allowed a dog yet they told me I wasn’t allowed one), and 400 non refundable dollars later, Jack came home.

As a puppy he was nothing but adorable: housebroken within a month, learning tricks after two months, perking up to rap music like the Black Eyed Peas, Nelly and Ludacris, loving car rides, his chew toys, long walks and puppy cuddles.

Within a year he had learned to sleep in late like his mama, wrestled playfully with other dogs and became a huge hit among my friends. I have blocked out the few pairs of shoes he ruined, lamp wires that he chewed through and the few times that he kept me up late wanting to play instead of going to bed.

To this day he loves his toys, behaves more like a border collie than not (I swear he lays around and counts the number of people in the house each evening), he prefers ice cubes to water in the summer, he’ll sleep in his bed until 5 am each morning when he decides cuddling with me is more to his liking. He’s terrified of the swimming pool and hates baths, waits at the stairs for me each morning, won’t eat until I tell him to, alarms me to other dogs, runners and strangers on the street and most of all, he greets me each day, happier than the day before with tail wags, kisses and endless love.

Happy 6th Birthday, Jackers.

Love Always,
Your Dog Mama

Pretty In Pink

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As I mentioned yesterday, I joined forces with thousands of other St. Louisians, Missourians and Illinois-ians to raise money for breast cancer. Here’s a few of my favorite moments from the walk this past weekend…

Favorite Team Name of the day: Hakuna MaTATAS. (Seriously clever.)

Biggest Tear Inducing Moment of the day: Happening upon this couple for a good portion of the walk. They held hands the entire walk, kissing each other from time to time, and enjoying each other’s company. (His shirt says “In Celebration of Mary, 5 Years!” and Hers says “In Celebration of ME! Cancer free for Five Years June 1st 2010.”)

Favorite Moment of Feeling United: Looking ahead of us and seeing this crowd, feeling like a part of something that matters, something bigger, something that could help save lives. We all pushed our differences aside to join for a common goal: That’s the power of the human spirit.

 

Favorite Photo pre-walk, minus the squinty eyes (I think I’ll be wearing my sunglasses outside at all times this summer):

 

I walked for my Great Aunt. I walked for the time I found a lump a year ago; though it was nothing the terror that ran through my body and my mind will never escape me. I walked for women all across the world, those with insurance and without. I walked for the commonality of women, the bond that we all inexplicably share. I walked for you. I walked for me. I walked for women (and men) everywhere.

 

Do you have a charity of choice that sponsors a walk/run or other type of event?

Why I am…*

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… in love with live music.

I grew up in a music household; The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Otis Redding and countless other artists and bands, all on vinyl, would often serve as my alarm when I was a young child. To this day there’s nothing quite like the sound of The Beatles on a crackly record, a little bit of a grainy sound, a whole lot of heart and soul.

As technology changed, so did the sound of the music in our house. CDs, surround sound, HD radio.

My dad has been in a band for as long as I can remember; a master of the bass, he is. My brother followed suit with violin, cello, stand-up orchestra bass and (regular) bass. They both have unspoken contests to see who can own more musical equipment. My mother is a lark on a piano and I myself have dabbled in flute, piccolo and piano.

While I may not be as musically talented as the rest of my family, there is one thing I can always appreciate: live music. I attended my first concert my sophomore year in high school, though throughout the years I caught a few on TV (like The New Kids on the Block in 1990 which my mom made me turn it off because the Wahlberg was taking his shirt off… I was only seven so it was deemed inappropriate. Funny how I still remember that). At any rate, after my first concert, I started to crave the experience.

I’ve seen a variety of concerts over the years:

* PointFest: a huge moshpit and boozefest with tons of rocker bands but oh so amazing. The Urge, They Might Be Giants, Cowboy Mouth were my favorites that year.  * Memphis in May (2003) : Jack Johnson, John Mayer, Sheryl Crow, Maroon 5, Willie Nelson, Nappy Roots, Wilco, Seether, Evanesence and much, much more. (This is when I fell in love with Memphis and smuggling cameras into shows). * Dave Matthews Band, nine or ten times and counting. If you don’t believe in love and world peace, attend a DMB show. That will surely convert you. * Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. Purely for the experience. Not a huge fan of his music but a great crowd. * Cher. Tickets were $20. I was a senior in college. Total win-win, plus the Village Boys were the opening act. Turns out she puts on a fabulous show. * Pearl Jam. AMAZING live. There was a lady who was signing the entire event for a deaf child and Eddie Veder brought her on stage, sang to her and then she got his shirt. * The Killers. Just wow. * The Decemberists. I didn’t love them at first, but this converted me. * Hinder, Finger Eleven. Went with a friend, fell for Finger Eleven. * The Goo Goo Dolls. Random, right? * Journey, the new version. * The Counting Crows; always wanted to see them in concert and they were totally amazing and awe-inspiring. * Def Leppard, went mostly to hear “Pour Some Sugar” live. * Chuck Berry: a St. Louis Legend. He still performs every six weeks and I’d love to go see him again.  * Live.  * Jason Mraz. * The Blackeyed Peas. All thanks to Live on the Levee, a free concert series each summer. I also saw some repeats through this including John Mayer and Sheryl Crow. * Backstreet Boys. * New Kids on the Block. * Jimmy Buffet. * The Police. * The Black Crowes. * Stomp!

It’s true that sometimes I go to a concert purely for the experience, not because I’m totally in love with the band/music/performer.

It’s a total package deal: The lights. The crowd. The oneness. The feeling that if you can get all these people in one space to appreciate music, surely we can learn to appreciate one another more. The music. The rocking out. The humidity that is synonmous with our outdoor amphitheater. The merchandise booth (it may be overpriced but I almost always purchase a memento from the event). The feeling of invincibility listening to music you love or at the very least can appreciate. After this Friday I’ll be adding Harry Connick Jr to the list of concerts I’ve seen; I’ve been hoping to see him for the last three years.

Are you a concert person? Favorite concert of all time? Any artists on your must-see list?

* Title of this post borrowed from one of Dave Matthew’s Bands songs on his latest album, Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King. All Photos linked to their origin via weheartit.com

Letters: Russell Brand, Fish Wire, Libraries, Knees and more

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Dear Russell Brand,

Thank you for being hilarious in Get Him to the Greek. After wrestling with advanced corporate finance for a day, it was just what I needed. I’ve developed a new crush on you, your accent and your eyeliner-wearing self. Please do a comedy tour and come to StL.

With adoration,
Nora

*************

To: Rude, Loud Neighbor
From: Nora, the eternal Hippie

It has recently come to my attention that you have strung fishing wire above your pool and deck area in an attempt to keep (trap?) ducks from coming into your pool area. We live in suburbia with trees, ponds, shrubs so it’s only natural that we will have ducks. It’s one thing to not like them; it’s an entirely different beast if you try to kill/harm them. Have you thought about the noise, pain and mess the ducks will make if they are trapped? I’m incredibly disgusted. Animals were here first, then humans. Consider that before you continue to concrete your entire backyard.

*************

Attention: Left Knee

It’s been about five weeks of physical therapy and overall, you’re showing great signs of improvement. I appreciate your cooperation and willingness to work hard to allow me to exercise again. However, this little bit of inflamation and setback for no good reason? It’s not ok. Exercise is my release. It’s how I get through the work weeks. Sure, I’m learning to cope in other ways but let’s commit to getting 100% better. I’d like to run a few 5ks later this summer, so let’s work towards that shall we? Keep up the good work and keep the eye on the prize.

Yours in Exercise,
Nora

*************

Dear St. Louis Libraries:

I’m pretty excited about the adult reading challenge you have in place this summer. Chances to win Barnes & Noble gift cards? Sign me up. I also love that you have a book club and have increased the new releases section. My only request: plesae be open on Sundays and maybe consider some outdoor seating for the lovely summer nights we have?

Always,
Book Addict

************

To: Summer
From: Nora

Please don’t disappear within a blink of an eye. My weekends now through mid-July are filling up and sadly my days are spent within the walls of corporate America but I’d really like to have some lazy summer days and really enjoy you. Try to stick around as long as you can.

************

Dear Jack,

Your sixth birthday is coming up in July. I can’t believe we’ve shared six years together already; you’ve been such a loving, happy, spunky, adorable dog. Thank you for loving me unconditionally and waiting for me by the door each evening. Adopting you was one of the smartest decisions I’ve ever made.

Love,

Your Dog Mamma

***********

Any letters you want to write today?

A Family of Fries

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Ever since I went to the Vegas Blogger Meet-Up last year, I had planned on going again. Until I decided to train for a race (that I can no longer run). What does this have to do with Vegas you ask? Every time I go to Vegas I get sick. Like high fever, stuck in bed, riddled with pain sick. Blame the lack of sleep, the alcohol, the second hand smoke, whatever you want, but it  happens. I wasn’t about to go to Vegas to a) attempt to get in my final training run and b) come back sick and not be able to run after all that training. Not sure when I became an adult, but that last sentence proves I have (at least in some ways). Joke was on me I guess since I’m not able to run thanks to the knee situation and by the time that was evident, tickets to Vegas were over $500. So due to finances and stupid non-races, Vegas was out for me this year.  

And thus a new plan was born: Indianapolis with four other lovely ladies, each having similar reasons for not being able to go to Vegas. A radtrip, if you will (thanks, Renee, for the term radtrip).

A radtrip which included conversations like this one:

Ashley: What would you do if you saw Justin Timberlake?
Me: Marry him.
Renee: Lick him.
Ashley: What would that taste like?
Me (without pausing): SEX.
Renee: … or strawberries and swagger.

A radtrip which included me ordering a “family of fries” at the Mug n’Bun, a fabulous drive-in root beer and food stand, with each french fry receiving it’s own characteristic: baby, liverspotted, osteoporosis. A fried food fail since we barely touched our food. The root beer was amazing and a bonus: free bumper stickers.

A radtrip where we posed with Barbie while working on our Barbie Faces, traveled to Egypt, to the land of Star Wars, and back to the Dinosaur era all thanks to the Children’s Museum. Where we fell in love with When Eddie Met Salad, a fabulous salad and wrap restaurant that I really wish we had in StL.

A radtrip that had us (accidentally) evading a security doorman, getting manicures and pedicures at Spa in the City, complete with mimosas and other beverages, laughing with the nail technicians and coming out relaxed, girlie and ready for our tapas dinner at BARcelona where we managed to enjoy tapas and sangria for less than $10 per person.

A radtrip that I was sad to see come to a close, but so thankful that we all loitered at the brunch table at Cafe Patachou this morning far too long, none of us ready to part ways and drive our four and a half hours back to our cities.

Each night we stayed up later than the last, eyes barely open, sharing, emptying our hearts, opening our minds, remembering, hoping, dreaming, planning, until we couldn’t take it anymore. We woke up six hours later each time and started it all over again.

Simply put: this weekend was just I needed and I think just what we all needed. Old fashioned slumber party style sleeping, giggles when the lights went out, eating junk food for breakfast, and laughing… a lot.  This is what blogging has done for me. This is why I can’t wait for more meet-ups and trips in the future. This is the stuff friendships, bonds and memories are made of.

Nora Confessions, Part VII

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Previous installments:  here , here ,  here ,here,  here and here.

* I’ve never seen the original Star Wars movies. Ever.

* When I was in Key West for my friend’s bachelorette party, I committed the Cardinal Sin of vacations: I fell for a local. Captain Steve. Sigh. Italian, tall, tan, handsome and wildly adventurous.

* If I can’t sleep, I will eat M&Ms in bed while playing my Nintendo DSi.

* I still suffer from blogger envy on occasion: design, followers, stats. I know, it’s totally silly and shallow considering everything else that’s going on in the world.

* About once every two months, my Monica Gellar cleanliness tendencies go out the window. Suddenly there are piles of clothes, books and other randomness all over my room. It builds up until I can’t take it anymore and I do a clean sweep.

* I get really annoyed when the men I work with feel the need to make loud, bodily function noises in the hallway. I may be the only girl in the office, but I can hear them!

* I’m not sure that I’m feeling Glee this season. The plot line is a bit… jumpy.

* The other day, I caught a glimpse of myself and my hair in the mirror. The curliness and gray hair totally looked like Cher in Moonstruck. I haven’t decided if this is a good or bad thing. I guess it’d be good if it means I find some Italian dude who likes the look.

* Some days I wish I could be the party girl, the devil-may-care-attitude girl. Not the cares-what-people-think, people-pleasing, worrying-about-everyone-but-herself girl.

Anything you want to get off your chest today?