In honor of Valentine’s Day, a made up holiday I hate, I invite you to partake in another example of a normal relationship, to counter the Hallmark-induced stupor in which you possibly find yourself as we near the dreaded day of ridiculous heart-shaped everything. You may remember I wrote this post about actual conversations between partners in committed relationships, as compared to those scripted, saccharine-sweet exchanges forced upon you in sappy, overly-romantic movies. I’m just here to help, people. I hope you find this new post equally useful. And remember, love means never having to … Nope. I got nothing.
Friends, rejoice with me! I’m delighted to report that my fear of flying seminar was rescheduled for a later date. Huzzah! One of the presenters fell ill and I now have several more weeks to prepare. Blessed reprieve! I’m very sorry, Airline Presenter Person, that you’re not feeling well, but THANK YOU, sweet baby Jesus.
In my last post, “Fear of … Everything,” I wrote about my all-consuming fear of flying, and how I’m planning to conquer it. Today’s post is more of a list than a post; a selection of apps I’m considering to help me prepare for my upcoming Fear of Flying seminar, and, ultimately, an actual flight in the near future.
I’m not sure when it happened, or why, but I am afraid of everything. My shadow, a tap on the shoulder, a strange sound. In my mind, it all triggers chaos and death by fevered imagination. I’ve always been a bit skittish and jumpy, but now I’m convinced there’s terror lurking around every corner, in every shadow.
Riley: Hello, Hoomen. I see you are making a sammich on this frosty morn.
Heather: Yes, I’m making Oakley’s lunch.
Riley: Am I mistaken, or do I smell…peanut butter?
Cutting down our Christmas tree became a family tradition after I divorced my husband. On my own with two little ones, I was desperately searching for a new holiday “normal.” Though I’d never so much as trimmed a hedge before, I had the brilliant notion that I could chop down a tree. We’d never had a live tree, though I’d always wanted one, and I was finally in charge of the decision. It seemed like a perfect new Christmas activity for the three of us. What could go wrong?
I’m writing a series of essays, collectively called “Marriage Conversations,” around the real-life conversations John and I have on any given day; conversations about anything and nothing. These snippets of dialog are common to people in long-term relationships. I felt compelled to do this to combat the ridiculousness of the Hallmark Channel. As much as John and I love each other, we don’t gaze into each other’s eyes and deliver beautifully-phrased platitudes like “love means never having to say you’re sorry.”
First of all, that sentence – that’s complete bullshit right there.