You knew I wouldn't get away from lists for too long

Perfect Opportunities
Every now and then, the perfect job opportunity comes along. And sometimes that happens twice in the same season. It feels as though everything loves you and as though you've hit a career stride. So you silently compliment yourself on not stagnating, on reaching your potential, on constantly moving upward, even if the movement has been slow. You can be proud that you left your old job for something better and not because you were forced to resign. (You'd be amazed at how many people experience the latter--even if they never admit it.) And while even failure can yield some level of success, it's nice when it's just success that yields success.

What's in a name?
Well, a lot is in a name. Especially when you're choosing the name of your child. And when you have a writing background, that choice can be even more difficult because everything reminds you of something else. I've changed my mind at least one hundred times now.

Decision '08
Another big decision parents make is choosing Godparents for their child. If the parents believe in that sort of thing. We do. To me, it's asking two special people to be positive influences in a child's life, further leading them to goodness. You hope they will share a part of themselves that's truly important, shaping that young life toward brilliance. It's the parents' job to raise that child, and so they do all of those same things, but Godparents are usually happy and honored to simply add to it. For example, Cienna's Godmother, Mary Beth, is known for her literature collection and extensive reading list. So for every holiday, birthday, party of any kind, visit, etc., she always brings Cienna a book, with a beautiful, little note inside. And the books are always awesome books, too. Cienna has quite the collection going. Joe, Cienna's Godfather, is an eternal optimist. He always sends her these great toys when he can't make it back from L.A., or he brings them in hand. They're always fun toys, yet educational. For example, the big Fisher Price Zoo set that includes talking animals, music and ABC games. The cash register that lets her play store and also teaches her about money. The awesome puzzles. And of course a collector's edition Barbie toy that teaches her about ...um, preservation. Both Mary Beth and Joe have been amazing Godparents and amazing friends.

Ty has been lucky, also, to have such doting uncles who will undoubtedly teach him unbelievable things as he gets older. And with Justin as his Godfather, I can only imagine what those things will be! :-) As for his Godmother, it was just beautiful to see Jocelyn hold him for the first time and watch as her face changed from unsure to magical. Unsure-t0-magical is pretty much the story of that girl's life.

Ryan will be Godfather to this baby, and I know he will be awesome. So our choice lies in which amazing woman we will ask to be the Godmother. It really is an important choice. And we're making it carefully.

It would suck to have to change church records and wills, you know?!

Dresses
Who went shopping with her mother-in-law Saturday and found two dresses, both normally retailing at $119 each and marked down to $4.99? Me. My MIL bought them for me because they're not only beautiful, but they also expand with a growing belly--even though they are not maternity dresses. What a find! I'm still happy about the shopping adventure--during which she also bought something for the new baby!

4th of July
I really do love this week every year. "Pressing up in honor of our forefathers" and MB's love of it has made me love it even more. But I love seeing old friends and family, grilling food, making a dish and taking it to picnics or "pic-a-nics" if you're from Pittsburgh, and, of course, fireworks--especially when watched with children and from someone's arms.

A weekend that was...

So I didn't realize it until it was over, but this past weekend was full of all of my favorite things.

I'm not going to list EVERYTHING that happened, but here's a small sampling: a ballgame, the drive-in, a very comfortable bed, window shopping for Baby Woodall, the most beautiful bridal shower ever, time with my family, time with my grandmothers-in-law, dinner at Gram's, watching Cienna play with her friends, watching Tyler act quite unsure about baby donkeys and alpacas at the petting zoo, watching Ty enjoy his pony ride--but only after Larry and I got yelled at by a horse whisperer who made us laugh so hard that I nearly peed my pants, hearing yet another story about Larry at Mercyhurst and nudity, wedding cake and a long walk.

Kennywoodall

What is it about Kennywood day that is always so perfect? It doesn't matter if it's hot, cold, rainy or cloudy, people are smiling.

Watching the kids' reactions was amazing. Cienna and Tyler wore huge grins all day, along with their hoodies, as they rode together in Kiddieland. And Cienna was tall enough to ride several things with Larry in the main park. But when the kids rode together, Cienna always watched out for Ty and would put her arm around him during the fast or bumpy parts. It's moments like that which melt my heart and make me thank God all over again for being their mother.

The kids were also lucky to have Grandma and Pap Pap Woodall, Great-Grandma Arlene and Aunt Shelley come along as well. It was so nice to enjoy the park as a family and ride together on the few things we could all ride together.

Of course, the real reason I know Cienna had fun is because she actually turned down ice cream in favor of riding more. Somehow, though, she managed to get a cone before the day was over! And she wasn't alone! :-)

P.S. As always, you can see all the pictures on Facebook!

The beauty of rock bottom (not to be confused with Rock Bottom) and other stuff

Not that you would ever think I'd write about a brewery chain...

One of the things my first college roommate and I had in common was the fear that whenever something good happened, something bad would naturally follow. It's like the cliche you hear about "waiting for the other shoe to drop."

That dear friend of mine eventually found a quote that muted her fear:
"If you believe in fate to your harm, believe it at least for your good." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

My experience was different. I just eventually realized that the bad stuff wasn't such a bad thing. While fear may have been part of my character, the failure to rebound, and rebound quickly, never was. My optimism is often unyielding, and I've always believed in working things out, talking things through and pressing up, basically. Plus, I have an incredible faith in God and strongly belive in prayer. So that's what I've always relied on.

But it's more than that. There's something beautiful about a breakdown. You're given a clean emotional slate. You learn who you can count on. Your strengths and weaknesses are more transparent. And it's always the beginning of the next great chapter in your life.

So don't fear the bottom of something. It's sometimes just the top of something else.

Can we discuss the Three Rivers Arts Festival, please?

It's gets an A+ for the art! But little else...

I'm not impressed with the musical line-up. Truth be told, I haven't been since Aimee Mann played at the Point. (And before that when NIJ played. Remember when NIJ used to play the Festival? Aw...) Even beyond that concert, it was one of the greatest days of my life, making the concert an even fonder memory, I suppose.

Oh, in addition to the Festival having the best displays/booths/vendors/artists this year, the chocolate-covered strawberries, once again, deserve an A+.

Pops and circumstance

Last evening, the class of 2008 graduated from Mt. Lebanon High School. Which meant that on my way to work, the ride was a little slower as parents and families lined Cedar Boulevard with cameras, congratulations and some crying.

The most touching moment that I witnessed as a passerby involved what looked like a father and daughter talking and then embracing. And as they hugged, he just closed his eyes and held on in a way that I think every girl wants her dad to hold onto her.

Beating deadlines

I'm 3/4 the way done with "Push," and it's only mid-June. My deadline was originally October. It's fair to say I'll beat that. The journal that accompanies it can't be done until the bambino arrives, but that's beyond my control. We're negotiating all of that and art at my September meeting, which I'm hoping turns into a little anniversary vacation for Lar and me.

I just can't believe I'm beating this deadline by this margin. It's one thing to meet a deadline. It's another to beat one.

But the work won't end. There will be edits. For sure.

I love being a writer.

Kennywood

So apparently it's mid-June, and the Woodalls (inlaws included) are going to Kennywood next week. I can't believe it's next week already. And I can't believe I get the work perks that I do.

We're so excited to see the kids' reactions to all the rides, though it will be a challenge just keeping Ty from running around all over the place! He's his own version of Speed Racer! You should see him!

Cienna is tall enough to ride a decent amount of the rides outside of Kiddieland as well, so that's exciting.

My favorite part of the whole thing is riding at night when everything is all lit-up. I've always loved that, as I've always loved Kennywood. It brings back so many great memories, and so many great memories are made there as well.

It's nice to go to other parks too--such as Cedar Point and Busch Gardens--but we're lucky to have such a great amusement park in our back yard. (OK, so it's really McKeesport's back yard, but whatever.)

Kool-Aid Nana

I went to my mom's on Tuesday to drop off Ty for his first overnight at Nana's ever. She had four other children on her porch--Cienna and three of her friends. Ty made five. And Nana loved it. She had the Kool-Aid (which is thankfully available sugar-free, and also free of aspartame) and popscicles (which are thankfully available sugar-free, and also free of aspartame) all ready, and a slip 'n slide was turned on in the back yard.

While I may have annoyed her most of my life, she definitely loves being a Nana!

Entourage

So Entourage is become a fall show, and I'm not happy about that. It was so great to have a great show on during the summer when TV usually offers things like..."Celebrity Circus," "So You Think You Can Dance," "I Survived a Japanese Game Show"...things like that.

One of my co-workers claims I should start watching "Weeds." Does anyone else watch that? Do you know if it's something I can just start watching, or do I need background first? Any summer TV suggestions?

Making history

A lot of people made history this week. But we only know some of their stories. And the stories we do know are sometimes subjected to questions of validity.

When, though, do those questions or details ever really matter? The way we make history and the way we remember it are often quite different.

There was a moment, and a relationship that was central to it, that seemed to change the course of my life. It was tenacious. Passionate. Fierce. Good for my writing, bad for my soul. Full of cocktails. Rich with dialogue. And eventually painful. For too long after it had ended, a part of me felt almost haunted by it. The good memories seemed so much better than they were. The bad ones seemed justifiable. And all the minutes in between seemed longer than normal minutes, like 75 seconds reminding me that I was alone.

Being Candy, being someone who believes the martini glass is always half full, I made the most of it. And being that I was in college, that meant I had sex with someone else as fast as I could to get over him. And being that I was a college girl in my early twenties, that did not take long.

One day, the pain of my actions and the pain of his absence simply went away.

When I look back now, I have no idea what my reason was for walking away. Even with my photographic memory. Granted, there were probably a hundred people who had a hundred reasons why I should've walked away even sooner--myself included--but I don't remember what was the pivotal moment in our history that made me walk away, literally, and also avoid all temptation to turn around and see if he was watching me walk away.

But I remember why I didn't turn around--fear that maybe he was watching me walk away with a look on his face that suggested he felt the romance of longing, and fear that maybe he wasn't. Once I made it to my Isuzu Trooper that day, I loudly played "Purple Rain" by Prince during the drive home, over and over until I didn't need to listen to it anymore.

I didn't choose that song because it had anything to do with our relationship, nor did it describe any of it's failings. I just needed to hear a good song--a song with genius and heart, a song that was bigger than me. One of my high school best friends always said, "All a girl really needs in this world, Candy, is good music, good coffee and great friends." I guess it stuck.

Oddly enough, what I'm proud of more than knowing when to walk away is never letting a bad thing come between my relationship with good music. There's not one band or album or song I've forsaken because of tainted love.

"Purple Rain" is still one of my all-time favorite songs, and it makes me think of many things. Mostly though, it's just musically incomparable. It's epic. And it's from one of the best albums of all time, of the same title. I have the history to prove this. My first copy was on vinyl. Then a cassette. Then a CD. Now a microchip. It still sounds best in a car though.

Penguins and bridesmaids

The Pittsburgh Penguins incredible season has mostly been buried today by comparisons of their team to forgotten bridesmaids. But that's not such a bad thing.

As someone who watched every Penguins game this season (and a few seasons prior), I'm extremely proud of our local hockey players. They played hard, and with respect, and there's still a lot of talent on our team. That's why, despite my disappointment last evening, I didn't wake up feeling sad. I'm beyond confident that we'll make it back to the Cup finals, and we'll win next time. And when the Pens go home with the Cup the next time, we'll forget all about the pain of this loss.

Let's be real about something though: It's a lot less of a big deal to be a forgotten bridesmaid than the loser of a championship. The former usually has to do with the natural progression of life as opposed to an unfulfilled dream. For some of these athletes, it's their life's work. I've been both a bride and a bridesmaid. It's nobody's life's work. (If by some rare chance it is, I'm sorry--to you and for you.)

Bridesmaids and weddings have been coming up in conversation a lot lately. One of my friends recently got engaged, and one of our cousins got engaged this past weekend. Once you've had a wedding of your own, people like to pick your brain a little.

But I should point out that Larry and I are bad to go to advice for on this topic. We weren't the kind of couple, or the type of people, to analyze or agonize over things most people won't remember. I think weddings should reflect the couple. If you spend most of your days looking like you walked out of Vogue magazine, then maybe that's what your wedding should be. If you sit around bonfires with beer most of the time, maybe you're destined for an outdoor wedding and a picnic that follows.

Trust me on this, though, if you try to make your wedding something you are not--it will be hell to plan.

A journalism professor in college taught us that when you have the right lead, the rest of the story flows easily, naturally. I think that's true about a lot of things in life.

My wedding dress was the third one I tried on. I picked my flowers in less than 30 minutes. The cake was from Bethel Bakery--a no-brainer. My matron of honor picked the bridesmaids dresses and talked it over with the rest of the girls--they would be wearing the dress, not me. We got married in the small church I grew up in. It didn't overlook the city. It barely overlooked the Mon River. Michelangelo did not paint the ceilings. There was no waiting list. Our dinner was buffet style for the 400 people who attended our reception in a fire hall. Sure, the invitation may have said "banquet hall," but on Tuesday nights, it's full of bingo players.

We saved tons of money that way. We invited our friends and family. We didn't stress over cutting people off the list we grew up with because we couldn't afford to feed them. We fed and watered them all very well.

You could say a lot about my wedding, but you can't say it wasn't fun. And, in the end, that's what people will remember most.

So don't worry about flowers and bridesmaids. Pick both with the knowledge that it's the choice you are making now--whenever now is for you. And as you grow, and your life grows, you might have chosen a lily over a rose, or a Becky over a Bonnie, but it's about what you feel in your heart now that influences you choice.

The only thing about that whole day that even matters are the vows you take with the person you love.

Clintons

Unfortunately for Hillary Rodham Clinton, the vows she took may be what both propelled her into making history as the first woman to receive 18 million votes for the Democratic nomination and yet kept her from being its nominee. I'm willing to bet the same rednecks who've said in interviews, "I don't think this country is ready for a black president yet or nothing" are the same rednecks who voted for her because they actually believed it would be Bill controlling the White House. And I also believe some of the votes she lost were lost because some people are just over it about Bill's conduct on and off the campaign trail.

What woman should all admire, though, is that she never gave up and also showed us a wonderful model of a beautiful relationship between mother and child. Seriously, I'm truly moved by the way Chelsea championed for her mother throughout this process.

I wish the media could've given her the time she deserved to close the campaign with a little more class. The impatience for her to just quit was absurd. Her supporters--especially those she brought into the process for the first time--deserved a proper farewell.

That said, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert made me laugh so hard during their post-primary coverage on their shows about the whole thing.

Obamas

OK. I've been an Obama supporter all along, so I was happy he won the nomination. And while I was kind of proud he's the first black man on the Democratic ticket, I'll be prouder if he's the first black man in the Oval Office. Press Up, America.

And speaking of the Press Up, were any of my college friends as proud when the Obamas hit the rock before his acceptance speech?

SATC with MB

So, clearly, seeing "Sex and the City" with the bestest was one of the best experiences of my life. First, it was time with the bestest (while Lar got to visit with Spence), and it was my favorite Hollywood foursome.

I'd love to review it for you, but that would totally spoil it. After you see it, though, we should definitely dish about it.

But for those of you who haven't seen it yet, who loved the TV series as much, I will warn you that there's not nearly enough Mario Cantone.

Dr. Gopalani

Yes, I'm still in touch with Dr. Gopalani. Though he's so West Coast now, he still visits Pittsburgh from time to time. Now is one of those times. Which means tennis. And talk of the Vag.

MTV Movie Awards

Larry insisted I watch them. And when Adam Sandler got MTV's equivalent of the Academy's Lifetime Achievement Award, Larry beamed with joy. Beamed.

Overall, the awards were enjoyable. I was extremely happy when Coldplay performed. (And speaking of Coldplay, I wish you could see Cienna imitate their iPod commercial). I was extremely happy when Usher performed. "Love in this Club" has become somewhat of joke between Larry and me. The song amuses us, and I made it a point to learn the dance from the video. Every time I do it or attempt it, he laughs.

Pennsyltucky

One of my friends at work directed me to a Web site today that shows what celebrities would look like if they lived in Pittsburgh. They were either fat, had big hair, were fashion disasters, walked straight out of the 80s or wore t-shirts.

To our critics: Why is Pittsburgh viewed as the redneck capital of PA? Have you never been to Breezewood?