Thursday, December 12, 2013

Afterglow vs Aftermath

As anyone who knows me knowsmostly because I bludgeoned everyone with even the most minute of detailsI turned the big 5-0 on 12/12/12.  I threw myself a very intimate little party at the most adorable girlfriend-owned restaurant in Newport Beach called Sol Grill complete with an awesome live musician for background and then dancing music, as well as the Hostess's ah-mazing food.  I created a signature cocktail and the Caveman and the Hero toasted me with my own homemade lemoncello and we laughed and we celebrated and my guests signed the most current volume of my 7-volume guest bookoriginally started in 1987!and it was all I ever dreamed or dared to hope it could have been.  It was love, man, just pure L-O-V-E. 

But, just like the holiday hangover we all suffer after Christmas and New Year's, I got a triple-dose with my birthday's celebration being thrown in there as well last year.  As a side note, the Caveman's birthday is 12/15 and the Hero's birthday is 12/26 and my little family's anniversary is 12/1feel my triple-crush hangover now!  And a big birthday like that gets you thinking and wondering and considering.  Hmmm.  What do I know for sure--really for sure?  If you have read my prior blog entries, you are familiar with my strugglesno need to double-dip that chip here.  So, in honor of 12/12/13 and turning 51see, it just doesn't have the same cool ringI am sharing those things that I know to be true for sure for me.

1.      My life really didn’t begin until I met the CavemanI DO NOT even know how I breathed a breath of air before he came into my life.

2.      This is a tie with No.1:  Seeing the Hero fall from heaven into this worlddramatically and prematurelyand take his first breath.  This is my most treasured memory (made all the more treasured by the fact that there is no one left on this planet to share this memory with me). The only reason this isn't No. 1 is because the Hero was meant to be born, grow up and leave me.  The Caveman, on the other hand, was meant to meet me, fall in love and stay with me.

3.      Witnessing the Caveman and the Hero (age 2) meet for the first time—instant love.  Okayit's a three-way tie.

4.      I am horrible at paying my bills; so I make sure that I have none.

5.      In the hive of life, I am a drone, not the queen.  I know intimately the hard-hustle of everyday work.  Not even a career, just a down-in-the-trenches-day-in-and-day-out kinda work.  I am both embarrassed by and proud of this same point.

6.      I know in my heart that the Caveman wakes up every morning asking himself what he can do to make it the best day for me!  I want so much to be able to do that for him, but I am a selfish failure at loving him as much as I need to be loved by him.

7.      I am sensitive.  My eyes and heart cannot abide most of what they witness on the internet and TV.  Warning:  If you post abused pit bull puppies or abandoned kittens on my FB Newsfeed I immediately “hide” it.  The Animal Planet Channel is blocked on all my TVs.  I cannot endure these atrocities—it does not inspire nor rally me; it traumatizes and paralyzes me.

8.      I am desperate for structure and quiet.  I try not to yell any more than I have to.

9.      I need a solid work-out schedule for my mind and good food for my body and vice verse.

10.  I need a good bra, a sexy little black dress, an above-average Kentucky sipping whiskey and clean soft sheetsnot necessarily in that order.  Well, now that I look at that order, probably, exactly in that order ; )

11.  I must knit to retain even a modicum of sanity.

12.  I need a kitten to want to purr and knead on just me.

13.  The hard-hustle is killing me (see #5).  Slowly, painfully and without mercy the hard-hustle is sucking the soul from my body.  I must find a new way to “be” in this world.  Like Bowie says, “We live for just these twenty years do we have to die for the fifty more?”  God, I hope not.

14. Steely Dan is the greatest band ever.  Church.  Preach.

15.  I should be a better Christian.  I know God loves me, but, really, what have I done for him lately?

16.  I am basically scared of boys and their larger, hairier, scarier man-selves.

17.  The allure of shiny and pretty does not elude me.  Ever.

18.  I love dolls.  I wish I could design and make dolls for a living including knitting all their clothes and accessories even their little under panties.

19.  One of the greatest gifts I ever received was learning to sew—thanks Mom <3.

20.  I can do anything; I have never really failed at anything.  Now, don't get me wrong, some things have not always necessarily worked out so well, but I would never use the word "fail'.

21.  I bruise easily. But, I am also tough and resilient.

22.  I truly believe that most people, including my family just don’t “get me”.

23.  If you are my friend, there's nothing I won't do for you.  Please don’t abuse that because if you do, well, then, I will probably take it, and then, one day I will not take it anymore, and then, we will no longer be friends.  Period.

24.  I love our families and I feel a grave responsibility to take care of them—all of them.  Well, almost all of them; you know who you are and you WILL NOT be taken care of by me, ever.  If you are reading this and you are unsure if this means you, then you better check in with me.

25.  The sound of a barking dog at night will drive me slowly insane—like I want to hide drugs in a pork chop and heave it over the fence kinda crazy.

26.  I believe I am a better auntie and godmother than I ever was a mommy.

27.  I love completely with all my heart.  Unfortunately, my heart is only the size of a dried apple doll’s head (see #6).

28.  I envy girls who have girlfriends and girls’ nights out.

29.  My only regret is not having a better education; however, I have such a shitty education that I can’t even spell R-E-G-R-E-T; it’s not even in my vocabulary.  Clever how I did that, huh ; )

30.  I married my first boyfriend.  Hell!  I married all my boyfriends. 

31. The Caveman belongs at the right arm of God for raising another man’s son as his own.

32.  You don’t have to like me; you can even say bad things about me, but you are going to have to own it and you are only going to get to do it once because I will not stand to be disrespected twice.  Consider yourself warned.  Seriously.  After that go ahead and say whatever you want to say but you should be prepared to duck.  Better yet, just get screwed and keep walking.

33.  Just about any kind of –ism makes me physically sick, i.e. racism, sexism, ageism, radicalism, fundamentalism, etc.

34.  I absolutely love, adore and respect our military men and women.

35.  The Star Spangled Banner and the hymn Amazing Grace cause a visceral reaction in me that I cannot hide.

36.  I am basically a worry-wart insomniac perfectionist encumbered by not enough time to be rested, perfect nor worried enough.  See my dilemma.

37.  No man has ever worked harder for one woman than the Caveman does for me

This is what I know to be true; these are my Darya-isms.

Happy birthday to me <3

xoxo Darya 

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

There Went My DIY Cherry

Just as a a word of warning , you are not going to see a whole lot of DIY projects here on my little bloggity blog.  This is my promise to you.  I may, however, show off some of my handknits or something I have sewn or maybe even embroidered.  While I have been sewing since before I knew how to read and I certainly know my way around with every manner of needles, I do not consider myself a particularly crafty person.  And to do DIYs you gotta be crafty and creative, man.  You gotta be able to look at a plastic gallon milk jug and envision and then cut and carve and turn it into something like a baby doll swing or a device to capture vermin or a bathmat or something equally absurd yet awe-inspiring.
I am keenly aware that I do not possess these talents.  I am the girl that reads your DIY and then goes and does it really, really well.  I am what is known as your target audience.

That all being said, my girlfriend and I found these loafers at Gap for 30%. In all honesty, I really wanted the already glittery and sparkly ones, but they were an extraordinarily odd goldy-pinkish hue that I just could not get behind, and they were stiff to boot.
Then...I remembered a DIY I had seen on Honestly WTF's website or maybe even Love Maegan where the girls recreated the glittery Miu Miu sneakers with a pair of Van's.  That's about it.  I just followed their directions.

Ta da damn da.  Clearly, I am an awesome photog, as well.  Be jealous.
I do need to say out loud that I have never worked with Mod Podge and I am still quite intimidated by the extreme volume of choices at Michael's--eventually, I just grabbed one and ran.  All in all, I like the way they came out and I am actually wearing my glitterfied versions and I think they are really pretty.  They are very sparkly and glittery and still pliable, and because I sprayed the extra sealant on them there doesn't seem to be any trail of sprinkles, which to be honest, kinda bums me out 'cause I like to think that I spread a little sparkle with every delicate little foot print I make ; )

 xoxo Darya

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Family Date Night

On December 1, 1990, the Caveman married the Hero and me.  We were married at the little Catholic church where the Caveman had taken his First Holy Communion as a second grader, and later where I converted and took my First Holy Communion and Confirmation as a 28-year-old-grown-ass woman.   It was a nuptial mass that was intimate and simple and afterwards we had a helluva party--we are good at that part.  We call it our Family Anniversary because that is the day that we officially became a family--pretty clever stuff, huh.

But when I really think about it, becoming a family actually started a few years before that day as I was putting the Hero to bed one Friday night.  Generally speaking, I didn't go out until after he had been put down for the night.  And on this particular Friday night as I was laying there talking with him or reading to him--fully made-up and dressed-up and ready to slide out from under the covers and sneak out the door to Benigan's or The Red Onion the exact moment after he fell asleep--and he asked me why he never got to have a date night.  Huh?  You wanna have a date with us?  The Hero was probably three-years-old and he was in daycare full-time and the Caveman was a first-year apprentice and I worked nights and from that one simple and honest question Family Date Night was born.  We chose Wednesday because it was pay day.  We chose Sizzler because it was cheap and close and the Earth wouldn't stop spinning on its axis if something got spilled or there was an emotional meltdown, but you had to sit at a table with silverware and a cloth napkin and there was proper table conversation about the workweek and the happenings of our lives.  The Sizzler--as well as the dining table at home--is where the bar was set; where the Hero learned to sit down and speak up and to eat like a human being and to say please and thank you and generally not act like a little punk.
Looking back on those Family Date Nights, I realize how important they were to us becoming a family even before we were a family.  It is a tradition that stays with us to this day.  The Hero now lives in LA.  He comes down once a month for date night with me and once in a while the Caveman joins us and we have Family Date Night again--or still.  We will do this Sunday night on the occasion of the 23rd anniversary of our little family.  And it will be a beautiful thing--to sit there as adults and speak of our workweek and the happenings of our lives. 

Happy Family Anniversary <3

xoxo Darya