As I was walking home Tuesday night, an Argentine man started softly calling to me, “Usted es la más linda…va a matar a todos la belleza.” A compliment to which I just started laughing my ass off…and he continued on his merry way, as if nothing unusual had just occurred.
For all ye non-Spanish speakers, my new Argentine friend said something like, “You’re the prettiest…your beauty will kill everyone.”
Die, everyone, die! Mwahahahaha...!
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
This broad’s abroad for Thanksgiving
(Editor's note: This post was written on Thanksgiving morning but the telecommunications gods decided to cut my phone and internet access about two weeks ago. You'll just have to forgive me for being late.)
One of the most difficult things about living overseas is the result of the need to make choices about when to travel home and how to balance priorities. Essentially, this means that I often miss out on some of the most important events in my friends’ and family’s lives. It is seldom that I am able to go back to the good ol’ U.S. of A for weddings, funerals, births, bar/bat mitzvahs, birthdays, promotions, or holidays. Although this is frustrating and often leads me to feel wistful and heartsick (because, frankly, I really do love you guys – something I don’t say often enough, I think), the hardest time of year to be away from home is on Thanksgiving.
Of all the holidays in all the cultures of the world, for me, nothing compares to our tradition of gathering all the disparate branches of our family tree together under one roof to share some laughter, food, dirty jokes, tears, joys, hopes, and the year’s most enormous meal. A few of you have been lucky enough to participate in one of my family’s Thanksgivings – and even a luckier few have been around for our pajama Thanksgiving! – so you know firsthand how special they can be. Unlike many other American families, we don’t disappear after the meal to unbutton our pants and watch football in self-contented silence. It is all family (and friends!), all the time. Plus food, all that glorious, glorious food.
Over the years, things have changed, which have altered our Thanksgivings forever. The most important change was the passing of my grandmother, Nonnie, who was the clear matriarch of our family and who hosted the most amazing family meals ever. To this day, we all still gather around the table and share stories about her (and especially her stuffed artichokes!). This year, I find myself thinking about her quite a bit. I think she would have really been delighted to know that I joined the Foreign Service and am now a true “global citizen,” for she dearly loved to travel. I also think there are many people who have entered into my life that she would have really enjoyed meeting (not to mention pinching their butts!); it is sad to know that she isn’t here anymore to share our stories. But I sincerely give thanks for having had her in my life for as long as I did and being able to love and cherish her as my grandmother. Te mando un beso y un abrazo al cielo, Nonnie.
The other change that looms large in my life has everything to do with this nomadic life I lead. As I may have mentioned to you, within the past year or so, I moved four times, and lived in four different countries. This has been a difficult year emotionally and physically, not to mention financially. What that essentially means is that I didn’t have the time, nor the energy, nor the financial reserves to get my sorry butt home to Massachusetts for turkey day – making this the second time in three years that I am not home for Thanksgiving. And, as if I couldn’t be sad enough on my own, every time I can’t make it home, da’ Momma calls with tears in her voice and tells me how much she misses me. I miss you, too, da’ Momma, and I love you BESTEST. Now stop making me cry, dammit!
That is not to say that Thanksgiving is ruined for me, by any means. This year, I am co-hosting Turkey Day dinner with my friend, Petra, and I am in charge of the turkey. If our count is even remotely correct (which it is highly unlikely it is, since we have had many changes to the guest list), there should be about eight of us sitting down to dinner in just a few short hours. And last night, there were about twelve to fifteen of us at a pre-Thanksgiving dinner hosted by the Gunny Sergeant of the Marines. So I haven’t been alone for a moment. I am surrounded by friends, and laughter, and ten tons of incredible homemade food. But I carry my family in my heart, as well as all the friends from before, who can’t always be with me.
One of the most difficult things about living overseas is the result of the need to make choices about when to travel home and how to balance priorities. Essentially, this means that I often miss out on some of the most important events in my friends’ and family’s lives. It is seldom that I am able to go back to the good ol’ U.S. of A for weddings, funerals, births, bar/bat mitzvahs, birthdays, promotions, or holidays. Although this is frustrating and often leads me to feel wistful and heartsick (because, frankly, I really do love you guys – something I don’t say often enough, I think), the hardest time of year to be away from home is on Thanksgiving.
Of all the holidays in all the cultures of the world, for me, nothing compares to our tradition of gathering all the disparate branches of our family tree together under one roof to share some laughter, food, dirty jokes, tears, joys, hopes, and the year’s most enormous meal. A few of you have been lucky enough to participate in one of my family’s Thanksgivings – and even a luckier few have been around for our pajama Thanksgiving! – so you know firsthand how special they can be. Unlike many other American families, we don’t disappear after the meal to unbutton our pants and watch football in self-contented silence. It is all family (and friends!), all the time. Plus food, all that glorious, glorious food.
Over the years, things have changed, which have altered our Thanksgivings forever. The most important change was the passing of my grandmother, Nonnie, who was the clear matriarch of our family and who hosted the most amazing family meals ever. To this day, we all still gather around the table and share stories about her (and especially her stuffed artichokes!). This year, I find myself thinking about her quite a bit. I think she would have really been delighted to know that I joined the Foreign Service and am now a true “global citizen,” for she dearly loved to travel. I also think there are many people who have entered into my life that she would have really enjoyed meeting (not to mention pinching their butts!); it is sad to know that she isn’t here anymore to share our stories. But I sincerely give thanks for having had her in my life for as long as I did and being able to love and cherish her as my grandmother. Te mando un beso y un abrazo al cielo, Nonnie.
The other change that looms large in my life has everything to do with this nomadic life I lead. As I may have mentioned to you, within the past year or so, I moved four times, and lived in four different countries. This has been a difficult year emotionally and physically, not to mention financially. What that essentially means is that I didn’t have the time, nor the energy, nor the financial reserves to get my sorry butt home to Massachusetts for turkey day – making this the second time in three years that I am not home for Thanksgiving. And, as if I couldn’t be sad enough on my own, every time I can’t make it home, da’ Momma calls with tears in her voice and tells me how much she misses me. I miss you, too, da’ Momma, and I love you BESTEST. Now stop making me cry, dammit!
That is not to say that Thanksgiving is ruined for me, by any means. This year, I am co-hosting Turkey Day dinner with my friend, Petra, and I am in charge of the turkey. If our count is even remotely correct (which it is highly unlikely it is, since we have had many changes to the guest list), there should be about eight of us sitting down to dinner in just a few short hours. And last night, there were about twelve to fifteen of us at a pre-Thanksgiving dinner hosted by the Gunny Sergeant of the Marines. So I haven’t been alone for a moment. I am surrounded by friends, and laughter, and ten tons of incredible homemade food. But I carry my family in my heart, as well as all the friends from before, who can’t always be with me.
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| The hostesses doing their best Vanna White meets Martha Stewart, "Hey look at my table settings!" pose. |
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| Los Walton (minus Neil). |
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| Dude, Nile is so photogenic (sometimes). |
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| Diego was totally in love with Nile. I think he wants one! |
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| Just before the turkey carnage got into full swing. |
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| My family for the day: buen provecho! |
Some day I hope to have goals
Recently I was asked what I want in life. The question was within the parameters of romantic relationships, and I was certainly taken aback by the question since I realized that the answer has changed so much over time. I distinctly remember my dad once advising me to “find someone similar to you so you get along, but with enough differences that you have something to talk about.” Which could very easily explain why Vince and I are no longer even friends (although this could very much have to do with a recent Facebook message he sent me, apropos of nothing, to inform me that I am now, have always been, and always will be a truly horrible human being), but it doesn’t stretch far enough to explain why Anthony and I couldn’t make it work. After all, I thought we were going to get married and have beautiful baby together (singular usage definitely intended).
While I still think that what my father said holds true, there is so much more to finding a life partner than that, some of which is completely inexplicable because it’s more on a cellular, chemical level. But some of it is far easier to rationalize – which is clearly what a logical person like myself does to explain why, after a decade defined by two long-term relationships, I find myself single once again.
The rationalizing? I compare men I meet or have met to the men I’ve dated – a few key things from each relationship certainly stick out in my brain as things I would like to improve upon in the next, and hopefully last, round. Not all of the sticking points are about the men, either, because I could certainly learn to be kinder, more present, more forgiving, more open, more loving, and clearly more communicative (a good friend of mine recently told me how surprised she was to find out how emotionally inaccessible I am – apparently there’s room for improvement). Or, I could turn Vince’s world upside down and just stop being such a no-good, very bad, horrible person.
But regarding the question of what I want in a romantic partner, I’ve got a list nebulously started in my brain. I am sure there is more to it than just the following, but I’ll share with you a few of the highlights. I am hoping for a man who…
• Loves me for who I am and who I have the potential to be;
• Is my best friend;
• Is a man who I respect, and who values loyalty, honor and honesty;
• Communicates (with me, preferably);
• Knows that relationships require a lot of care and attention, and that difficulties will come, but is committed to seeing them through;
• Will love my family and make sacrifices for them, just as he would with his own family;
• Laughs with me about everything and nothing – and helps me laugh at myself.
Basically, I am just looking for someone to grow old with me and who will share all of life’s ups and downs with me – and do it gratefully, gladly, respectfully and with love. Somehow, I don’t think this is too much to ask.
(Mel, this totally reminds me of that conversation we had years ago about the kind of partner you were looking for…you said something along the lines of doctor or lawyer, plays the piano, not Asian…I wonder how much you’ve revised your list since then?)
While I still think that what my father said holds true, there is so much more to finding a life partner than that, some of which is completely inexplicable because it’s more on a cellular, chemical level. But some of it is far easier to rationalize – which is clearly what a logical person like myself does to explain why, after a decade defined by two long-term relationships, I find myself single once again.
The rationalizing? I compare men I meet or have met to the men I’ve dated – a few key things from each relationship certainly stick out in my brain as things I would like to improve upon in the next, and hopefully last, round. Not all of the sticking points are about the men, either, because I could certainly learn to be kinder, more present, more forgiving, more open, more loving, and clearly more communicative (a good friend of mine recently told me how surprised she was to find out how emotionally inaccessible I am – apparently there’s room for improvement). Or, I could turn Vince’s world upside down and just stop being such a no-good, very bad, horrible person.
But regarding the question of what I want in a romantic partner, I’ve got a list nebulously started in my brain. I am sure there is more to it than just the following, but I’ll share with you a few of the highlights. I am hoping for a man who…
• Loves me for who I am and who I have the potential to be;
• Is my best friend;
• Is a man who I respect, and who values loyalty, honor and honesty;
• Communicates (with me, preferably);
• Knows that relationships require a lot of care and attention, and that difficulties will come, but is committed to seeing them through;
• Will love my family and make sacrifices for them, just as he would with his own family;
• Laughs with me about everything and nothing – and helps me laugh at myself.
Basically, I am just looking for someone to grow old with me and who will share all of life’s ups and downs with me – and do it gratefully, gladly, respectfully and with love. Somehow, I don’t think this is too much to ask.
(Mel, this totally reminds me of that conversation we had years ago about the kind of partner you were looking for…you said something along the lines of doctor or lawyer, plays the piano, not Asian…I wonder how much you’ve revised your list since then?)
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