Wednesday, March 07, 2007

milestone: year 2

today marks two years of "do they read obituaries in hell?" and like last year, i put together a "highlight reel" of what was said in the last 12 months. if you manage to get through the whole thing, you may just catch a refrain of Green Day's Time of Your Life or some other nostalgic-montage song lingering in the air. however, i make no promises.

thanks for reading!


'he was in Chi a few months ago, and he went out to lunch with me and my girl. i noticed he was wearing a ring, and i said jokingly, what, you're married now? he said, yeah man. i was like, yo, how come you didn't invite me to the wedding? he said, oh, cause i got married on my lunch break.


she's gotten me gifts i forgot that i wanted, items so perfectly suited to my needs that it's as though there's truth to that threat she made when i was in junior high that no matter how far i go or what i do she can always see me and will always find out. (and she always did somehow! but with age, i've realized it was poor deception skills on my part, not omniscience on hers, that did me in.)


8:35 a.m.: completely awake and starting to worry someone i care about might be lying in the street bleeding to death or something-- which would be an appropriate reason to necessitate three phone calls at my equivalent of THE DEAD MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. unable to fall back asleep for fear i'm a horrible friend for not answering.


the road into town had an industrial feel. like any other suburb, there were gas stations, fast-food joints and a kmart. but there were also dilapidated warehouses and factories, remnants of an old steel plant. and churches, lots of churches. there was probably a house of worship on every block, if not two, and one across the street for good measure. now, i'm all for having choices, especially when it comes to something as personal as prayer, but the reason the abundance of them seemed so odd was because there were no people.


'whatever. i'll bet you got your ear pierced with the secret hope that one day, you too could have a magical earring turn you into a superstar.'


i don't smoke and this may sound nasty, but that's an instance where i wished lighting up was still allowed inside. one errant glowing red tip and that puffyass bouncing bird's nest would have gone up like a stack of matches.


'i doubt i'm important enough to make the paper unless i get gunned down by a psycho soccer mom or something. but i guess they'd have to say something like "Cadiz Twelve: That Girl Really Loved her Television." '


Doris,
Hope that prosthetic eye is treating you well!
get well soon.
Maude



when someone is reading while walking, aimlessly, bobbing and weaving about the office hallway. it makes it increasingly difficult for me stop myself from taking off my pointy highheel and sticking it between his shoulderblades to get him to watch where he's going because he's blocking my path to the printer for a report that's already ten minutes late to begin with BEFORE i ever get to it.


"now THERE'S my girl. all this while i had been wondering where my little pessimist had gone."


before the wedding, i had written out a speech, then folded it up and written crib notes during the day as things came to me. but i didn't look at it because as i gripped the mic and the glass, i had no free hand. besides, as the video will later show, even though my mind was pretty calm, the glass-holding hand was shaking so violently that i had to hold it against my body to keep from spilling. thank God they don't fill those things more than halfway.


being the bigger person that i am, i will still hold the elevator should i see you, but god help me if you don't say thank you, it will be as though you never existed in my mind.


at her grammar school in florida they only offered stringed instruments and if you took orchestra you got to miss math class a couple times a week. damn, if we had that system in my hometown, maybe i'd have actually practiced my cello and given yo yo ma a run for his money.


come to think of it, stealth has always been your modus operandi. like after you left for school and the alarms you'd secretly set on my cellphone went off 2 hours after i'd finally fallen asleep? yeah, thank the good Lord i couldn't reach through the telephone and yank out every last scraggly hair of your poor excuse for a goatee, pal. and at that ungodly hour, i think i would have ripped out the hair on your head, too.


first half of America's Next Top Model marathon? enjoyed (although i've never really been into that program, when they show them all in a row, i just cannot find the courage to turn off the tv.)


the beasts we really had to watch for zipped along streets and sidewalks, spewing exhaust and tooting their little horns. it seemed everyone and their mamma was driving a golf cart.


i have no idea how i remembered this -- probably because someone i knew in jr. high was obsessed with him -- but i replied, "why, it's kirk cameron's birthday!" and that's exactly what she had been thinking.


"na na nah, I GOT IT! now get this: India. N, with the little swirly thing, d, y, i, a. India. now that's strong AND sexy! ... nah, N with that thing on top, d, y, i, a. i'm telling you, girl! that's a GREAT name!"


besides, this morning when i got off the plane in chicago to find that it was SEVENTY degrees here, i realized that i definitely needed to lighten up. that and learn to hobble around town with my foot in my mouth.


i'm still feebly fighting off the idea that i traded my life for my television when i agreed to take on this job two years ago.


"geez! i mean, we all know that every year when he buys the candy he gets twice as much and then hoards some for himself. but he wasted NO TIME in snatching up all the leftovers, too! that man needs help."


it's no secret that my mom would gladly trade two legs and a duodenum to have somebody of her very own to call her grandma. and that i've been taught, as oldest and as daughter, that it's my cultural obligation to have given her one like five years ago. but i haven't. because in some twisted form of logic, i believe that one should only produce grandchildren when one has found a suitable partner and only then if both parties are good and ready. but that doesn't stop my mom from hinting at how jealous she is of her friends who have them and it certainly hasn't put a damper on the one-woman babyblanket knitting factory she's running out of the living room.


"cadiz! you cannot be telling me that your first drink is your last drink of the night. oh, grow some tits and suck it down."


in the middle of the night at home i know there are breathing bodies in the other rooms. i know that if i choke on a wheat thin and start to asphyxiate, i can run over and collapse onto one of their doors and they'd wake up and call 911. here, i'm surrounded by hundreds of people on dozens of floors, but somehow i think they'd be dialing different digits at 3 a.m. if i tried that maneuver.


walking around that hall was a little surreal. faces and nametags jumped out at me like dead bodies at a wake sitting straight up in their coffins. it was creepy, but familiar. i'm good with names and faces, but not necessarily together. so i'd catch a glimpse of someone and then spend 20 minutes trying to figure out if it was that cool girl in my gym class or that annoying cheerleader who would keep one leg on top of her desk in class so pretty much anyone would take note of the orange underthing she had on under the uniform.


it's like the last two years i've been incubating in the dungeon and waiting for my real life to start. and now that i'm properly cooked, i think i might be ready for it. unfortunately, everything is up in the air and i don't know where to begin.


4. when i was little i was terrified of cats. my parents used this to keep me in line, threatening me when i was behaving badly by saying "the mau is coming! you better get your shoes on right this minute! i think i hear the mau!" the same tactic was used to keep me from wriggling out of my carseat, but instead of the mau it was that the police would come if i didn't stay put. i still have a lingering mistrust of law authorities as well as cats. i take each on a case-by-case basis.


If this room could talk,
What do you think it would say?
"I pity the fool!"


as i started to walk away, everyone in the room began to applaud. i'm talking everybody-- my colleagues, the cleaning staff, people in the back who i had never even met and even the higherups. i had seen this happen a few times before, but the recipients had been important, high-ranking, long-term people and i know they don't do it for everybody. i had just assumed i'd sneak out of there without incident. i was shocked and overwhelmingly honored.


b) i am able to awaken at the agreed-upon hour, only to convince myself in a half-asleep state that i no longer need to get out of bed then, can spare a few more minutes "resting my eyes" or that i was certifiably insane when the hour was agreed upon.


we ate and chatted and then H was heartbroken that neither of us won the 42-inch flatscreen television they were raffling off. he wanted it so badly that for .025 of a second he considered dancing. yeah, they'd put on some ridiculous song when they called out the numbers and if you didn't dance to satisfaction, they wouldn't let you have it. that must have been some sweetass television, too, because this guy likes dancing as much as he'd like a root canal.


but i think H analyzed it best: when i confessed that in spite of the unnecessary frenzy, maybe i shouldn't have gotten so angry, he said not to dwell on it too much because karma will make sure i pay for it when i have my own children.


please get over yourselves, artsy-fartsies.


i couldn't help but wonder if, in some kind of an alternate universe, i could have been bumping hips with Shakira on television.


i know, i'm a freak. but this tendency poses a serious problem when it comes to sky's-the-limit situations. like right now, as i'm facing my ultimate personal nightmare: the opportunity to go pretty much anywhere.


i did come away from Cirque du Soleil with a realization, however: all this time i've been telling people that, if my current course of action doesn't work out as planned, i'd join the circus. yeah, i'm going to have to come up with another backup plan.

13 comments:

cadiz12 said...

whoa, and this one is shorter than last year. i'm going to have to work on paring down.

Jon said...

I say no to the paring down. I think it's perfect as is. Sometimes I forget all the great writing on this blog. Thanks for the reminder :)

Ale said...

oh yey!!! i forgot my blog birthday.. hm... boo on me..

but yey for jugglethis!!!

cc said...

Happy anniversary!

Lia said...

Congratulations on another year of obituaries, etc.

Excellent excerpts. (I couldn't resist that phrase. I'll just have to leave it at that.)

Beenzzz said...

YAY! Happy 2nd blogaversary!!!

Syar said...

My favourite part is that I remember almost each and every one of those excerpts. I feel worthy.

Happy anniversary!

ML said...

Happy Anniversary!!!

Nadia said...

Fabulous recaps. Thought I might have to demand reimbursement for the spleen I think I ruptured laughing.

Happy Twonivversary!

bluebird said...

that totally made my saturday. happy second anniversary.

Modern Viking said...

You should write a book Cadiz. Your writing style is just such a pleasant read. And I dare you to write the whole thing without capital letters.

Happy blogiversary!

omar said...

Happy anniversary, Cadiz! I love this place. Here's to another 2.

Alexandra said...

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