Listening to Sigur Ros again today. Ahhhhhh, I needed that. Seaglopur is the song. Cinematic. Its Icelandic. I don't understand a word. Some people would say that uts the musical equivilent of foreign films. Its just good. Ok somewhat pretentious, but, when its that good you can afford to be.
It has been a rough week.
Yesterday I attended the funeral for my co-workers baby. The little one didn’t make it. It’s incredibly sad. Even today I’m still in a serious funk from it. I think that was one of saddest things I have ever had to do. I don’t remember much about yesterday after the ceremony. I drove to the office with a co-worker. Did something while I was there between noon and 5. Went home and crashed on the couch soaking up some TV. I hope I never have to go to something like that again. Funerals are never easy. They aren’t supposed to be. If I found them easy, I wouldn’t be the person I am. But, the funeral for someone who survived 11 days only just isn’t right. It’s hard to take. Everyone in attendance wept openly. There was nothing else to do. We all knew that no words could console the parents.
I guess we are hardwired to feel protective towards infants. Nature makes sure we take care of our young. I hope that my co-worker can someday make peace with what has happened. I don’t have a point of reference for what losing a child feels like, so I don’t know where she is right now. I had to meet her husband for the first time yesterday. I could tell that like my co-worker, he was really just the shell of himself. Something was missing. I hope they can come to terms.
In other news, my boss quit today. In my previous job this would have been cause for much rejoicing (with the exception of one of the bosses), but not today. He’s awesome to work for. Unfortunately as it goes in a large corporation, when he quit, they just asked him to leave. No 2 weeks, no round of farewells. Part of that is keeping company secrets, but they also don’t want him to steal staff. He’s the kind of boss that could take legions with him. I hope he does well.
Thankfully tomorrow is Friday and this week is almost done! I need a weekend.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Hang in there little one!
I'm Listening to Art Blakey's "Moanin'". Lee Morgan is at this moment laying down this percussive trumpet solo. Art is in the back laying it down solid. AS close to the perfect example of what Bop is all about! Put this on. Then try not to move your head. Aint gonna happen.
So Things have been very busy as of late. Work has been insane and I have had to take on yet more. One of the members of our small 5-person team had to go on an early Maternity Leave. She was 6 months into her pregnancy when she was rushed to hospital and an emergency C-section performed. She now has a tiny 1lb, 13oz baby girl who they are attempting to give a shot at a full happy life. Here’s to ya little one. Hang in there!
Her husband sent pictures of the baby today. She (why do I keep typing ‘it’ and erasing… I hate referring to babies as ‘it’… they are PEOPLE!) is so fragile. Still looks like the ultra sounds of fetuses I’ve seen with the big eyes, nose and mouth. The baby looks like a tiny old person, with folds of skin on her arms. The pictures were sad to see, but, at the same time, the kid looked healthy, so it lifted my spirits towards the situation.
I feel guilty at work the past couple of weeks when I get stressed out at the increased load that I have had to take on as a result. Whatever inconvenience I am under, I know that her pain and worries are MUCH worse. I’ve heard that she is taking it quite badly and blaming herself. In truth, she is lucky as apparently she was on the verge of having a stroke when she was rushed in and had the surgery. It must be hard to suddenly have a child who you were expecting in three months. You leave all tat preparation until the last few months. I find it annoying when company shows up an hour early and finds you still in your pyjamas…anyway. Then I think of the child. Sounds like she is doing OK, but, when a baby is so premature, there is always the danger that things won’t go well. I hope they do. I can’t imagine trying to make it through a day not knowing if your baby will survive the night, let alone a week as my co-worker has.
Puts my stress levels into perspective.
So Things have been very busy as of late. Work has been insane and I have had to take on yet more. One of the members of our small 5-person team had to go on an early Maternity Leave. She was 6 months into her pregnancy when she was rushed to hospital and an emergency C-section performed. She now has a tiny 1lb, 13oz baby girl who they are attempting to give a shot at a full happy life. Here’s to ya little one. Hang in there!
Her husband sent pictures of the baby today. She (why do I keep typing ‘it’ and erasing… I hate referring to babies as ‘it’… they are PEOPLE!) is so fragile. Still looks like the ultra sounds of fetuses I’ve seen with the big eyes, nose and mouth. The baby looks like a tiny old person, with folds of skin on her arms. The pictures were sad to see, but, at the same time, the kid looked healthy, so it lifted my spirits towards the situation.
I feel guilty at work the past couple of weeks when I get stressed out at the increased load that I have had to take on as a result. Whatever inconvenience I am under, I know that her pain and worries are MUCH worse. I’ve heard that she is taking it quite badly and blaming herself. In truth, she is lucky as apparently she was on the verge of having a stroke when she was rushed in and had the surgery. It must be hard to suddenly have a child who you were expecting in three months. You leave all tat preparation until the last few months. I find it annoying when company shows up an hour early and finds you still in your pyjamas…anyway. Then I think of the child. Sounds like she is doing OK, but, when a baby is so premature, there is always the danger that things won’t go well. I hope they do. I can’t imagine trying to make it through a day not knowing if your baby will survive the night, let alone a week as my co-worker has.
Puts my stress levels into perspective.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
You call this a Wedding?
So this week Heather and I put a down payment on our wedding venue. This is it. No going back now.
I feel no sense of loss towards my “bachelorhood”. I’m at a point in my life where I can accept that and in fact welcome it. I know that this is something that I have wanted for years now and it is really past the time to take this step for me.
I feel no anxiety towards “walking down the aisle”. No fear at the change that this will bring in my life. In fact, I feel really good about the whole marriage part. Its time. Past time in fact.
I’m scared shit-less though at one thing. Planning the monster. I feel a huge sense of responsibility to please so many people. And Yet, I don’t want to have the traditional type of boring wedding banquet hall reception. So, we have chosen a somewhat different and “funky” location. More of a restaurant. Imagine a big loft with Persian rugs. Kinda has a beatnik feel to it. What can I say, old habits die hard and that good ‘ole Jack Kerouacian sense of the Dharma gets under your skin for life, whether or not you drive a sensible car, have a mortgage, decide to get married, wear a tie to work and settle out in suburbia. None of us want to feel as though we are truly a part of the machine, so, let me have my delusions ok!
Anyway, I’m worried that our guests may not look at the room through the same coloured glasses we do. And, a Buffet at an Italian wedding has not been tried, since the debacle of 1974 of which anyone of Mediterranean descent is sworn to secrecy about! Add to that that there is no way that I could do a Catholic ceremony… and well, I guess I gotta be happy if anyone from my side shows up at all!
On the other hand I guess that my family should know enough about me to realize that I would never have done the “regular wedding thing”. I’ve always had that side to me that bucks the system. When I was a teenager, it was the 80’s and EVERYONE wore short hair, I grew it out to my shoulders. In the 90’s when even Metallica cut their hair short because long hair on men suddenly became some sort of New Age Yuppie thang, I shaved it all off. This was when only neo-nazi skinheads and Michael Stipe had shaved heads. Confused the fuck outta them as they had to try to figure out if I was some sort of weird Hippy, or, worse yet, (gasp) Bisexual. That I had told them I was none of those meant nothing. Of course nowadays a shaved head is really nothing more than a sign that you are a pre middle-aged square who’s gone bald (guilty as charged).
So, in all of this, I guess I’m coming to the realization that once again, I am doing something differently than my family would expect. I’m eschewing the “Italian Wedding”. Or at least amalgamating it with WASP one, and giving it a bit of a JP twist. Weddings are truly a Holy Experience for Italians. It’ll be interesting to see how this one plays out. Should be close to the Good Friday Dinner when I told my Family I could not eat fish as I had decided to become a Vegetarian. That was another time when they became convinced I was Gay… ah well.
I feel no sense of loss towards my “bachelorhood”. I’m at a point in my life where I can accept that and in fact welcome it. I know that this is something that I have wanted for years now and it is really past the time to take this step for me.
I feel no anxiety towards “walking down the aisle”. No fear at the change that this will bring in my life. In fact, I feel really good about the whole marriage part. Its time. Past time in fact.
I’m scared shit-less though at one thing. Planning the monster. I feel a huge sense of responsibility to please so many people. And Yet, I don’t want to have the traditional type of boring wedding banquet hall reception. So, we have chosen a somewhat different and “funky” location. More of a restaurant. Imagine a big loft with Persian rugs. Kinda has a beatnik feel to it. What can I say, old habits die hard and that good ‘ole Jack Kerouacian sense of the Dharma gets under your skin for life, whether or not you drive a sensible car, have a mortgage, decide to get married, wear a tie to work and settle out in suburbia. None of us want to feel as though we are truly a part of the machine, so, let me have my delusions ok!
Anyway, I’m worried that our guests may not look at the room through the same coloured glasses we do. And, a Buffet at an Italian wedding has not been tried, since the debacle of 1974 of which anyone of Mediterranean descent is sworn to secrecy about! Add to that that there is no way that I could do a Catholic ceremony… and well, I guess I gotta be happy if anyone from my side shows up at all!
On the other hand I guess that my family should know enough about me to realize that I would never have done the “regular wedding thing”. I’ve always had that side to me that bucks the system. When I was a teenager, it was the 80’s and EVERYONE wore short hair, I grew it out to my shoulders. In the 90’s when even Metallica cut their hair short because long hair on men suddenly became some sort of New Age Yuppie thang, I shaved it all off. This was when only neo-nazi skinheads and Michael Stipe had shaved heads. Confused the fuck outta them as they had to try to figure out if I was some sort of weird Hippy, or, worse yet, (gasp) Bisexual. That I had told them I was none of those meant nothing. Of course nowadays a shaved head is really nothing more than a sign that you are a pre middle-aged square who’s gone bald (guilty as charged).
So, in all of this, I guess I’m coming to the realization that once again, I am doing something differently than my family would expect. I’m eschewing the “Italian Wedding”. Or at least amalgamating it with WASP one, and giving it a bit of a JP twist. Weddings are truly a Holy Experience for Italians. It’ll be interesting to see how this one plays out. Should be close to the Good Friday Dinner when I told my Family I could not eat fish as I had decided to become a Vegetarian. That was another time when they became convinced I was Gay… ah well.
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