Valentine’s Day

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 14, 2011 at 1:15 PM

For some reason, this Valentine’s Day I wanted to write about the moment I fell in love with my husband. Turns out, I can’t do that. There wasn’t a moment. There were a thousand little microscopic moments – a joke here, a gesture there, a touch, a smile, a look – that built upon each other to create our relationship, our love. We were friends long before we were romantic, and that trust was invaluable in creating a bond that would, could, and in fact already has, weathered the darkest of storms.

But still, there is one thing in particular that stands out in my memory as some sort of shift. I can’t explain why, but I can tell you the memory.

I was about to go into my last full semester of college (which for me was year two), and I had to get my wisdom teeth removed. There was only one possible time for me to get it done, and that was less than a week before classes started. I made the appointment (back home in College Station) and had the surgery. Many people have had this procedure done, but everyone experiences it in different ways. I was one of the unfortunate people for whom it was awful.

I came home from the hospital in an anesthesia haze of misery, gauze filling my mouth like dry, cottony wounds. My dad and Kyle immediately ushered me into bed, where I laid on my back and tried to fall asleep. I was exhausted, but being the rule-follower that I am, I couldn’t let myself sleep because I was supposed to keep my jaw closed and if I relaxed it fell open. I mumbled something to this effect to Kyle, who promptly left and returned with a roll of toilet paper. He tucked it under my chin on top of my chest so I could relax and still have my jaws closed on the gauze.

Now, it must have been tempting for Kyle to laugh. I think I would have, if I hadn’t been in so much pain and all drugged up. I must have looked like an armless chipmunk desperate to hold on to a roll of TP. But Kyle didn’t laugh. He’s too sweet for that. He simply solved what needed solving, tucked me in, and let me sleep off the worst of the medicine. I will always remember him in that moment.

Us back when we were giggly little monkeys.

But for me, it only got worse from there. I ended up getting two dry-sockets, which for those of you who don’t know, means I had two gapingly exposed nerve endings. Worst physical pain I’ve ever felt. But through it all, Kyle was there. In fact, when I went back to school after missing the first week of class (dry sockets messed up my well-laid plan), my professors didn’t believe that I’d had my wisdom teeth removed. They said my cheeks weren’t swollen – everyone’s cheeks are swollen after that surgery. My cheeks weren’t swollen because Kyle woke up every four hours for three or four days straight to put fresh ice on my cheeks. How ever did I get so lucky?

I don’t love Kyle because he takes care of me when the chips are down. I don’t even love him because he’s thoughtful and considerate and kind. It’s much, much more than that. But looking back at that memory, I have to admit that it’s a piece of the puzzle. I love you, Hub-a-Dub. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Posted in Personal | Tagged , | Leave a comment

How to Put a Positive Spin on Your Worst Qualities (i.e.: How to Write a Eulogy for a Horrible Person) (i.e.: How to Beef up Your Resume)

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on January 31, 2011 at 7:20 PM

So maybe your mean old great aunt Georgia died, and you somehow got stuck with giving the ten-minute eulogy in the form of a poem. Or say you’re creating an online dating profile. Or maybe you don’t have enough positive attributes to fill out a job application. Or perhaps you just want to make yourself feel better through good old-fashioned denial. Well, my friend, you’ve come to the right place.

If you’re Say you
loud-mouthed are not afraid to speak your mind
a bitch stand up for yourself
*selfish are goal oriented
greedy appreciate the beauty in objects around you
an animal hoarder are an animal lover
abusive have a firm hand
mean are honest
a zealot have a healthy fear of god
lazy are laid-back
a smartass are snarky
indecisive consider all of your options
proud are confident
vain take care of the temple which is the body
*bossy are a natural-born leader
snooty have great taste
careless are care-free
insensitive practice tough love
*arrogant are proud of your achievements
cowardly take caution
oblivious are innocent
jealous see the good in others (and want it)
cheap are thrifty
gluttonous love fine cuisine
lustful are smoking hot
*stubborn stand firm in what you believe in
dishonest are clever
nosey take a keen interest in those around you
short-tempered are passionate
argumentative love a good debate
*introverted are thoughtful
stupid lead a simple life
*oversensitive are sensitive

So how ‘bout it, did you think of some I left out? And do you see yourself in any of these? (Now, chances are that if you’ve gotten to the end of this list and don’t recognize yourself in at least a handful of them, you’re rather oblivi—I mean innocent. Yeah. That’s the word.)

*’s equal the worst of my sins. For the sake of not *ing them all, I limited it to 6. But feel free to asterisk as many as you’d like mentally, you meanie—I mean, er… honest person.

Posted in Just for Fun | Tagged , | 4 Comments

The 3 Best Naps of All (my) Time (so far)

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 11, 2011 at 3:55 PM

If you asked me what one thing in the world was my favorite, I would probably tell you a lie. Like maybe my husband or my cat or my friends or my family or my craft. Although close contenders, none of those would be entirely true. The real answer is sleep. I like sleep more than I like anything else on this earth. More than cuddling, more than scary movies, more than cute little owls wearing hats, even more than raspberry Hershey’s hugs piled so high they overflow the bowl. Srsly.

And I don’t know what it is about it, but I think most people would agree that naps are better than a regular night’s sleep. Although that’s good too. To quote a comedian I once heard, the first thing I think when I wake up in the morning is, “Oh my god, I can’t wait to do that again.” But there’s something special about the nap, in particular, as a form of sleep. Maybe it’s the daylight streaming in the window. Maybe it’s the forbiddeness of doing nothing for a couple of hours out of your busy day. Or maybe it’s just the novelty of sleeping on the sofa instead of in bed. Either way, naps are the bomb.

So I’ve decided to count down the 3 best naps I’ve ever had. Here we go.

3. The dark and silent luxury in the Bahamas

If you’ve ever been on a cruise ship, you know that the rooms are small and dim. The boat is rocking like a giant pair of arms soothing a baby to sleep. The sea air is warm and calming. And the blankets are hotel-thick and softer than a pile of puppies. Ideal napping conditions. When Hub-a-dub and I were on our honeymoon (a cruise to the Bahamas), we were both pretty exhausted. Right after the wedding, plus so many fabulous events and shows to go to and enjoy. Fun can be exhausting, you know.

So one day, when there weren’t any events I was particularly thrilled about, I asked Kyle if I could just stay in the room and take a nap while he went out and ate or drank or gambled or played miniature golf or whatever. I got two hours in the cabin to myself. It was pitch black, warm, heavy, and rocking like an oversized cradle. I can’t imagine that whatever Kyle did was as good for him as that nap was for me. It was pretty damn good. It’s some of the best sleep I’ve ever had.

2. The Benadryl-ridden haze in Austin

I lived by myself for a year and half in Austin while I was going to school. I had a little efficiency apartment that was totally awesome. It was so small that I got a loft bed from IKEA so I could have room for a little loveseat and a desk down below. I really liked it. What I did not like was how bad my allergies were in Austin. The time I have in mind was during the summer, and I had recently decided that getting allergy shots wasn’t worth the money and hassle. Clearly, a horrible mistake.

For the span of about a week, I ended up taking 2 Benadryl every 4 hours just to be able to breathe and keep my eyes from swelling shut. At this time, I did not know that one of the side-effects of Benadryl was drowsiness. I had to go to my summer classes. I’ve never been the type of person to fall asleep in class, but man I came close that day. I was literally nodding my head down and then jerking it up as I realized I was starting to sleep. When I got home, I crashed onto my loveseat in spite of all of my homework and things I needed to do, and fell into the deepest, heaviest sleep I’ve ever experienced. When I woke up three hours later after the drug had worn off, my notes from class were all gibberish (seriously, the writings of a madman), but hot damn, that was a good nap.

1. The snuggly 16 hour snooze-fest in Amsterdam

Hub-a-dub and I (back when he was just A-dub) went to Europe for Spring Break one year on a college tour. The flight to Amsterdam was something like 12 hours long. I can’t sleep on planes. At all. When we landed, it was morning there, and we had a whole day of fun scheduled. Jet lag much?

When we finally got to our hostel early that evening – which we were told would be a hotel – we discovered that the room for 2 we requested had bunk beads. Lol. Not quite what we were imagining for our romantic getaway. We were supposed to get ready for the factory tour and the following group dinner. We decided we would rather sneak in a little nap and just meet up for dinner. So we both wedged ourselves onto the bottom bunk, which was up against a window-unit. The heat was rattling out, and we spooned under a big comfy blanket, and when the alarm went off, it felt like we were wrapped in a little heated cocoon.

Kyle turned to me and mumbled groggily, “Wanna just sleep through?” And I rolled over and said, “Yes.” We reset our alarm for early the next morning, skipped dinner, and didn’t wake up until the sun had set and re-risen. It was intensely awesome. And plus, after that, we were the only ones on the trip who didn’t fight jetlag the whole time. Bonus.

And those are the 3 naps that rocked my world. How about you, do you have any memorable naps?

Posted in Just for Fun | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

The Seven (Not So) Deadly Sins of Writers

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 9, 2011 at 3:25 PM

In descending order of least deadly to most deadly, the seven deadly sins of those who possess the oats to calleth themselves “writers.”

7. Pride

“She holdeth her head higher than the sludge around her, for she art but vain.” –Shakesmear*

Let’s face it: pride is the least of the sins, because quite frankly, all writers have this. What besides a desperate belief that your ideas are worthy would possess someone to write them down? Carry on. As you were.

6. Gluttony

“He eateth like a pig.” –Shakesmear

The writer faces not the avarice of the stomach, but the avarice of the ego. We are all gluttons for an audience (read attention), and I doubt that we shall die from it.

5. Lechery

“And in the womb a fiery tug begins, like the unraveling of an endless spool of yarn.” –Shakesmear

Ah, the lust for words. This sin is fine in moderation – nay, healthy even – when a writer delves into books and dictionaries in quest for the most perfect, the most beautiful of words. But let this sin rule your life, and you’ll soon find yourself the most haughty of creatures, heaping the sexiest of words into your work until you become the admired, the feared, the dreaded… pompous jackass.

4. Avarice

“But lo! The possessions of a worldly king are not enough. Only little minds seek more.” –Shakesmear

The lowest of creatures at the writers’ table. This covetous being demands critiques and suggestions and services, but gives nothing in return. A sister devil includes the writer unwilling to help those around her with hits, plugs, and promotion out of the idea that more for thou art less for me.

3. Wrath

“She rages! She storms! She tremors! She poops.” –Shakesmear

The rageful writer is the only speck of good in a sea of wrong. Rejections come from idiotic agents and editors, critiques are spoken by blasted fools, and every rolling thought, like vomit, gets spewed onto the public blog in all its fury.

2. Envy

“For the wicked woman looks at another’s things and says not, ‘How lovely,’ but, ‘I want that.’” –Shakesmear

The bane of any writing community, the envious artist slinks around like a snake, pretending to be a friendly admirer but secretly wishing ill and striking when the time is right. Watch your back (and your ankles); this sinner will rejoice at all of your failures.

1. Sloth

“Indeed, I layeth me down and took a nap.” –Shakesmear

Six fatal sins have preceded us, but sloth is the deadliest of all. For what writer has the right to call himself a writer if he doth not write? Only the idlest of us pretends the writer’s lifestyle but fails to fulfill the requirements of the word.

For shame, sinners, on your knees then!

It’s okay. Even if you suffer from all of these deadly sins, you’ll probably make it. It’s not too late to repent. In that light, I’d like to leave you with this inspirational quote: “You can do it; put your back into it.” –Ice Cube

 

*Shakesmear is entirely made up; I am Shakesmear. He is simply a convenient way to create quotes that exactly suit my purposes (and to avoid looking up actual quotes). Clever, huh?

Posted in Silly Stuff | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Girl Who Changed the Weather

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on February 5, 2011 at 4:15 PM

I’ve never claimed this to be anything but guts on the table, after all.

I’ve always been a big believer in/supporter of pathetic fallacy, probably because of my background in literature. Now whether I truly let the weather influence my moods or if there’s some sort of fate or chance or spirit involved in this… well, I suppose that’s up for grabs as much as any subjective belief is. But no matter how you slice it, the weather and I seem to have an empathy.

 

In spite of all my education and logic, there’s always an initial resistance to admitting I’m struggling with depression. As soon as I’m aware of that thought, I tell someone. There’s no reasonable shame in the fact that I’m going through or have just gone through one of the darkest points in my life.

It doesn’t matter what brought it on; actual events have little to no bearing on my emotional obstinacy, which, of course, infuriates a logic-driven mind such as mine. How I am at the same time one of the most overemotional and reasonable people I’ve ever met is beyond me, but there it is. A conundrum wrapped up in a fragile shell called skin.

Somehow, my despair brought on the snow. Didn’t you know this? The seven inches or so of snow we’ve gotten in Denton over the past week was all me. It would seem. Because as I dropped off into a black hole of depression, sleeping as much as I could to avoid being awake, it began to snow. After those first insensible 48 hours of sobbing every waking minute and not being able to eat or think clearly, there was a fluffy white blanket sealing the ground off from reality. It cocooned us at home for the next five days, wrapped us in a shell that kept us from the outside world.

As more and more snow fell, I began to be okay. I discovered that reading was a great way to keep from thinking, much as sleeping is, so I finished five novels in as many days. In its own strange sort of way, this became a wonderfully enjoyable time for me, like a bubble of fiction in the middle of real life. Somehow, I began to heal – no, not heal. I began to let myself feel. To acknowledge that I was wounded and that I might always be wounded and that wounds take time to heal. And that’s okay.

Yesterday was the last day we got snow. I returned to working on my novel, which had miraculously untangled itself in my absence, and felt both an aching hollowness and a sense of overflowing with something intangible. I always feel this, to some degree. I think I always have.

So now I sit in my office, a place I avoided steadfastly for six days, and look out my window.

The snow is melting.

Bit by bit, the white coating is dissolving into the ground to reveal the earth that’s underneath. That has been underneath, hidden, for a week now. But only now, I’m ready to see it.

When the snow melts completely away, don’t be too surprised if the ground beneath it is bleeding.

Posted in Depression | Tagged , , | Leave a comment