I've been lost in a time warp

I am dying to tell you all ... those of you who still read my blog ... and one of you is Margaret, who I ran into in the grocery store yesterday so already knows about this ...

I've been lost in a time warp.

My particular time warp is 1991. I've been sucked up by 1991 and wonder when I'll make it out of this vortex.

Can you guess what has caused this time warp vortex?

I bet you can!


FACEBOOK.

Yes, I know, I was very anti-Facebook. No, I'm not sure how I feel about it now that I have signed up, but I was talked into signing up by one of my oldest friends last weekend.

AND THEN MY WHOLE WORLD EXPLODED.

Monday, I set up my Facebook page, not sure how many friends I wanted to have and trying to figure out what the Wall is, and what the News Feed is, and where I should be looking, and why isn't there an "About Facebook" button with some sort of tutorial? So I spent Monday clicking around and wondering about groups and fan pages and looking at the profiles and walls of the few people I had added to start me off. And snooping around the profiles of some other people from my past, not sure if I was ready to reach out to them.

Tuesday morning, just 24 hours after joining, I got a friend request that knocked me out of my chair. THAT GUY. The one who I met doing a show when I was 17 and he was 20 (we were near our 18th and 21st birthdays, though ... I was a senior in high school and he was a college dropout from Kansas who had come to California to crash with his dad). The one who, even though I had a long-time boyfriend who was away at college, I could not stop thinking about. The one who felt that he was too confused about his life and that I was heading off for bigger and better things (college at Stanford; and my parents were moving to Oregon to make it more complicated), so decided that we shouldn't have a relationship. The one who took me out on dates even though we weren't dating (the passionate talk and the making out sure made them feel like dates). The one who was a mother's nightmare (sorry, mom!).

The one who spent the last few months before I moved, while we did another show together, pretty much ignoring me and dating other people, but then spent the NIGHT before I moved telling me how much he loved me. The one who didn't call me for months after that, but finally did and we spent that night on the phone falling in love with each other. The one who promised this time would be different and he would be better about calling, but then broke that promise.

THAT GUY. We had such chemistry. We never did anything more than a little making out, but it was the talking and just the hanging out that we did SO WELL. We were so different, yet we seemed to fit. We were never given a chance, though.

I couldn't count on him. He had said all the right things but then not called for months too many times. I had given him enough chances.

I fell in love with someone a few months after that late-night phone call my freshman year in college. I would forget about everyone else I had ever known; I would forget my name; I knew that I would marry this man. And one year after graduation, he proposed. Yes, The Hubby!

Eventually, I would think about THAT GUY. I had written about him in my diary, after all, and I like to reminisce. When I got internet access and learned of yellowpages dot com, I looked him up. Other search engines came out, and I looked him up. I went to the memorial service of a mutual friend, and not finding him there, asked another mutual friend to see if she could find him and give him my phone number. I Googled him. Thinking he might have gone into the industry, I imdb'd him. I always found many listings for his name, but no way to tell if any of them were the right THAT GUY.

Eventually, I decided that it would be best not to know what happened to him, and certainly best not to find him. Despite the way things went between us, I have treasured memories of the time we spent together and the things that were said. I decided it was best to preserve it as it was.

THEN I JOINED FACEBOOK.
And the next day, THAT GUY. After all those times years ago that I tried to find him, it took less than 24 hours on facebook for him to find me! After SEVENTEEN YEARS. I stared at the Friend Request, trying to decide what to do. I went out for the day and thought about it. I went back and forth, feeling my heart beating in my throat.

I came back to the computer late in the afternoon. I didn't know what I was going to do. Staring at the screen, I took a deep breath and clicked "Confirm." I would just let whatever was going to happen, happen. I figured it would just be "hi, what are you up to? I have three kids. oh" and not much more, like what happens at high school reunions, and frankly, I worried that that would be a blow to my self-esteem yet again. But I had no idea what usually happened on facebook, so no idea what to expect.

Almost the very second my finger came back up from clicking "Confirm," a chat window popped up. I didn't even know there was chat in facebook! THAT GUY. Talking to me, live in a chat window. I almost threw up. I couldn't hear my kids playing right behind me, what with the beating of my heart. My fingers shook. I got all sweaty. And I remembered that it was his birthday!

We had a short chat. My exploded brain remembers it went something like:
me: "I can't believe I'm talking to you right now. Isn't it your birthday?" him: "Yep." me: "How old are you?" him: "39." him: "Your kids are cute." me: "Thanks, yours too!" him: "You look happy. Is it true?" me: "Yes, very." him: "I'm so glad to hear that." me: "This is weird." him: "Should I not have found you?" me: "I don't know yet." him: "I understand if you don't want to acknowledge me, but I have thought about you a lot." me: "I don't believe you." him: "well, it's true. I was a total mess then and I missed out on you. I'm so sorry." me: "I cannot believe this is happening right now."
And some pleasantries, and then I had to go make dinner.

And then I told The Hubby about it. He did not think it was a big deal. Why was I making a big deal about it? he wanted to know.

Because my not-a-relationship with him never had an ending! And I was not sure that I wanted it to have a postscript. Some things are better left alone, to reminisce about in our private thoughts.

The Hubby thought I was being silly. "Why don't you suggest that you two get together? Your kids can play."

"That would be WEIRD!"

"No, it's no big deal."

Well, he doesn't get it (I thought to myself).

The next day, a chat window popped up again. This time, our chat was longer, and it briefly touched upon the past.

Another day, another chat. Again and again. More delving into the past.

Then when he asked again if we should talk about exchanging phone numbers, I took a deep breath and punched my cell number into the chat window. Then I received a text message. Then I received a picture on my phone of his Wii avatar. Um, ooookay?

I told The Hubby about it. "Maybe it's weird," he said, thinking. "No, I'm sure he's just being friendly," he finished.

Saturday night I was up late after everyone went to bed, and another chat window popped up. This time, we really got into the past.

At some point, my fingers typed out the gist of my worries. "What if we see each other and find that we still have that chemistry?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said.

"I do know that the phrase "unfinished business" has never been more apt," he said.

"Yes! You get it!" I cried. Knowing that he totally understood what was weird about this was, for me, a huge relief.

Just knowing that I wasn't the only crazy one here has really calmed me down about the whole thing. It seems counterintuitive, but that's the effect it has had on me. My heart rate slowed back down; my fingers stopped shaking.

I was never sure if, back then, he had strong feelings about me or if it was all my overactive imagination. All these years, I have thought I might have been a silly 18-year-old girl about this. Finding out through these chats that it wasn't a figment of my fluttering heart actually is helping me exhale and move on to whatever this is going to be NOW.

This story is not over. We'll have to wait and see how it all unfurls.

Where did February go?

Hmmm. It's March now.

I'm not sure how that happened.

I feel like I've been buried under a huge pile of volunteer duties. I can think of three big things right off the top of my head that I've been working on during the last two weeks.

I've also been going to the gym a bit more. I've been pretty good about going to a class twice a week since early October, and during the last couple of weeks I have been extra focused on making sure I get there. I am seeing NO RESULTS. Wheee!

The kids and I went to the zoo the other day. We enjoy reading maps! (We also enjoy watching industrious little orangutans!)





This month we started letting Turbo go outside in the back yard! He is very happy with the arrangement!



I think the tooth fairy is moving in! Since January 22nd, my two girls have lost seven teeth! Seven!

In fact, they lost four during the last week of February alone, including one each last Saturday! That's right, a double-tooth-fairy-visit!

And it's not over: Middle Girl has one more loose one, and Big Girl has three loose teeth!

They are falling out left and right around here!

My poor Boy keeps pulling on his teeth and despairing "when will I lose a tooth?" I can't blame him feeling left out right now!

Good genes

Today, The Boy was running along ahead of me and his calves reminded me of my husband's.

And this, my friends? This is a very nice discovery.

what a weekend.

What do you do with a rainy three-day weekend when you're pinching pennies?

One day, we went to our local independent bookstore (I cannot tell you how much I LOVE that place) because Middle Girl got a gift card for her birthday. Is your family like mine? Do you all just love to spend time in a bookstore, looking at book after book after book? (Thinking about the people who come to this blog... yep, you are all like that!)

Books seem even more comforting when it's raining outside, don't they?

A few of us saw books we wanted to read, but since we were only there for Middle to use her gift card, we decided to head over to the library.

Some time later, we left the library, with books and a DVD off the "New Releases" shelf.

We all came in the door and fell upon the couches to spend the rest of the afternoon with the books!

Later that evening, we slipped in the DVD. It was the final live Broadway performance of "Rent." (Parents of the Year, that's us!)

When you're a theater geek, and you are my age (23 when "Rent" came out - just starting out on your own after college), "Rent" is not just another musical! Heck, even The Hubby loves it, and he's not a theater geek!

After 12 years on Broadway, "Rent" closed last fall. They assembled an amazing cast for the final few months, including two original cast members, and filmed it for posterity. Many, many actors who had been in it through the years were in the audience. They dedicated the performance to Jonathan Larsen, who wrote this musical about "liv[ing] each moment as [your] last," "no day but today," "measure your life in love," and who died of heart failure the night before its first performance.

Man, I cried watching this. I cried and cried. I cried for the triumph of the show itself and how seeing the show and falling in love with an HIV-positive drag queen (you can't help but) has changed people. I cried for all the Closing Nights I've been in. I cried for how much I miss the camaraderie of cast members. I miss it so much, and I don't have anything in my life right now that feels like that.

A day full of books followed by a good, long cry. What a weekend!

Opinions, I Has Them

Last night, at band rehearsal, we were discussing doing Coldplay's "Viva la Vida." The guy who's sort of our de facto music director said Coldplay didn't write that song, Joe Satriani did. This was his snide way of getting us on the topic of the plagiarism lawsuit. Well, he sucked me into an argument, he sure did!

I argued that just because two songs sound alike doesn't mean they purposefully plagiarized. He argued that “George Harrison, Michael Bolton, and others have lost cases like this, and those songs don't have the exact same melody like the Coldplay one! It's not just the same chords, it's the same melody!" I said, "I guess it'll have to be settled in court, although I'm not sure I'm comfortable with lawyers and judges deciding about musical creativity..." Then he proceeded to argue that the Grammy awards shouldn't have rewarded the Coldplay song. I said the Grammys shouldn't take a position on it before it's been decided in court - "they can't take sides in this!" I said. Which made him snort. Snort. "Go listen to the Satriani song," he said, and we dropped it and moved on to other topics, like the drama between members of our band!

When I got home, I listened to the Satriani song ("If I Could Fly"). It's easy to find comparisons on YouTube (they keep getting yanked off, so no use embedding), and the sample of it on iTunes is the section of the song that's in question.

Basically, my feeling is that yes, both songs do use the same three notes in their melodies. They also both go "two measures to play the three notes (A, B, A flat), then two measures sort of riffing on those notes, repeat." The riffing is not the same, but it is a similar idea. I think it's absolutely credible that more than one songwriter could have thought up that structure independently! I also think that had Coldplay known how similar "If I Could Fly" was, they would have changed up "Viva la Vida" a bit during the writing period. It's a risk with no payoff to knowingly copy an existing song. My verdict? No plagiarism. A situation that sucks for both sides, probably more so for Satriani, but life sucks. No plagiarism.

However, it might be worth mentioning that when "Viva la Vida" came out and I fell in LOVE with it, and wanted to hear it over and over, I was surprised that it was a Coldplay song. In general, I think Coldplay's music is positively coma-inducing. (I do like "Yellow" and "Clocks.") They write a song that doesn't really sound like Coldplay, and it gets accused of plagiarism? That's kinda interesting.

I prefer not to get sucked into arguments like this, but it definitely happens from time to time! My husband is intimidated by my strong opinions. Of course, he never argues, never ever ever. Does he have opinions and he just prefers to keep them to himself, or does he not have opinions? I don't know. And we've been together for seventeen years!

So in light of this "reputation" I have, it's interesting that my reaction to some recent news events is "ho hum, who cares?"

I'm talking about Christian Bale and Michael Phelps.

Christian Bale cussed out a crew member on a movie set. So what? This is the guy who lost 60 pounds, weighing only 120 pounds, for The Machinist. This is the guy from American Psycho. Guess what? He's crazy intense. We knew that. Why does anyone care about this "news" story?

Many have said it: who cares that Michael Phelps was smoking pot? He publicly said he was taking a break after the Olympics; one might expect him to go a little wild with the partying after so many years of extreme discipline. I've never smoked pot, because I'm a goody-two-shoes, and even I am nonplussed about this. Anyone who made him a "role model" for anything other than training for swimming is an idiot and needs to kindly remove their head from their fanny.

Now, Joaquin Phoenix. I'm worried. This hip-hop thing may or may not be a hoax, and the fact that his brother-in-law Casey Affleck is following him around with a grin and a videocamera instead of getting him help indicates that it probably is a hoax, but nonetheless Joaquin is not okay. Did you watch the Letterman clip followed by the clip from his appearance promoting Walk the Line? Bearded Joaquin can't form words or thoughts. It's worrisome.

Change

I guess change was in the air this month! I've been planning to paint the upstairs bathroom since we bought this house in Oct. 2006. I even bought the paint at that time!

I don't know what finally motivated me to get out the brushes and get it done, but...

Here is what it looked like on Jan. 19, 2009, when a guy named Dubya was President...




...and now? Aaahh. A breath of fresh air!





(See, Internets, how I am keepin' it real? That's right, I left the crap on the sink and the ugly kids' towels on the towel bar, what of it?)

Middle Girl is turning six on Thursday. She had her party last Saturday.

She decided she wanted a "pajama party." The guests came in their pajamas and brought a stuffed animal. We served pizza and cake, and then showed the Tinker Bell DVD. They ate popcorn and played with light-up bracelets in the movie room. The parents came to pick them up at 9 pm, so everyone got to stay up past bedtime yet still go home to sleep in their own beds. It was like a precursor to a slumber party - very appropriate for 5- and 6-year-old girls.

They seemed to have a ton of fun, if all the giggling was any indication.

Middle Girl is a wonderful hostess. She took good care of all of her guests. Is this a Middle Child thing? She seemed to be of the mindset that it's her responsibility to see that her guests are having a good time. My oldest, on the other hand, tends to think that everyone else should be making sure that she has a good time. I do think that's an Oldest Child thing. (Although, I'm an Oldest, and hope I wasn't like that as a kid... oh, I probably was.)

Middle Girl was very excited about the "Pajama Party" theme. So much so that she wanted a Pajama cake. I had to decorate the cake with drawings of pajamas! It was challenging drawing with my piping bag, but I managed two pajamas and two nightgowns, all in different colors and with hearts or polka dots. I thought it came out kind of sloppy, but everyone else thought it was great! Middle Girl loved it.

It was fun listening to the little girls' conversations. In one, they decided to take a poll: "Raise your hand if your dad eats dinner in front of the TV." "Now, raise your hand if both your mom and your dad eat dinner in front of the TV!" That was hilarious. Is taking polls a 6-year-old girl thing? (Our family always eats dinner at the table together, but since the party girls were at the table, my husband took his pizza into the TV room, which Middle Girl thought was so funny!)

____

We are going to do her family gifts on her "Actual Birthday," so I am getting the gifts this week. The Boy and I are making a run to American Girl Place as soon as I sign off! Bye for now!

History

After dropping the girls off at school, where they would be watching the Inauguration with their classes, The Boy and I came back home. I still needed to eat breakfast, but I switched on the television first. There were Malia and Sasha Obama, in their colorful overcoats, heading through the Capitol Building toward the balcony and their seats. I sat down on the couch.

I would not leave the television until after the ceremony was over. In fact, it was after the Bush family boarded the helicopter and departed and everyone went back inside the Capitol. Breakfast would have to wait.

The Boy watched with me, wanting to know who everyone was as they came out onto the balcony. He identified the men by their ties (between the scarves and the ties, it was easy to identify them by color): he would later say, "there's Joe Biden in the blue tie."

Tears came to my eyes over and over again, particularly when I saw the huge crowd filling up and spilling out of the National Mall. We all want to be a witness to history, especially since so many of us feel ownership of this historical event. I am too young to have fought the hard fight for civil rights, but I did cast my vote for a man who would have been my choice regardless of the color of his skin. I helped make this day happen! WE made this day happen, all of us together. Just look at all of the people who contributed to this moment!

I think this is so important, too: this is no Affirmative Action. This is a man who is more Presidential than anyone I have ever seen. The Boy spotted him the first time they showed him walking through the Capitol Building, and shouted, "there's Barack Obama!" (Although sometimes he says "Arack Obama.") Obama may have more composure than anyone ever has. Imagine how that quiet confidence will come across in meetings with foreign heads of state.

The ceremony began. We saw Aretha and her fabulous hat. Not everyone can pull off that gigantic bow, but Aretha absolutely can. I loved it! We saw a quartet of world-class musicians (Jewish, Asian, African-American, and Hispanic) play a beautiful arrangement of "Simple Gifts." We saw Joe Biden become our Vice President, and then we saw Barack Hussein Obama take the oath of office. I stood up in my living room, wondering why I wasn't with a group of people - why was I holed up in my living room with only The Boy? I watched the Justice rearrange the words of the oath, and Obama pause to figure out whether he should fix the error (he decided to repeat them the way the Justice had said them). And then he uttered the words, "so help me God," and I burst into applause and tears at the same time! I picked up The Boy in a huge hug and swung him around.

Then The Boy said, "can we watch something else now?"

Of course, we didn't. We listened to Obama's speech (well, I did, and it was difficult through all of the "when will he stop talking?" whines) and appreciated once again that Obama doesn't think of this presidency as his, but truly thinks of himself as a representative of the people. It's striking.

I enjoyed the colors in the benediction ("the red man can get ahead, man"), and very much enjoyed watching that helicopter take off and fly away, getting smaller and smaller.

When the girls got home from school, I said, "what did you do today? Did you see history in the making?" Big Girl said, "we started learning cursive!"

They did watch it, but no matter how many emotions they see from me, they just can't grasp this. They will always live in a world where a black man has been President of the United States. They may never understand this the way we do. And you know what? Hallelujah!

I did manage to run one errand yesterday, but other than that, I felt like I spent the day in front of the television.

However, one cannot escape this moment in time: like many, my day included both celebration over a new President and consternation over a family member's recent layoff.

Please keep my brother-in-law in your thoughts.

Pass the Tissues

Here we go! The Inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama. Our young country is making a giant leap forward! We're growing up, and we can't go backward now. Racism still exists, and there is still a long way to go, but here we are. And we won't be going back.

Pass the tissues!

Twitter's broken... hopefully they'll fix it soon 'cause I want to join the party!

photo challenge

Laurie points out on her blog how hard it is to photograph Craftsman homes! I agree, and maybe that's why they're so appealing to the naked eye.

She issued a challenge to photograph Craftsmans, which I will humbly enter:

Irrational

This morning, at 7:57 am, as I was pushing the kids out the door (late) for school, the phone rang.

Which is highly unusual at that hour, but I couldn't get it. We were late and had to get to school!

When I got back home, the caller ID indicated that it was our local hospital calling. There was no message.

"That's weird. Why is the hospital calling at 7:57 am?"

"Maybe The Hubby has been in an accident on his way to work...
I should check my cell phone and see if they tried calling that, too...
No, no calls.
I should call The Hubby at work to see if he is there...
but he is always in meetings and I can never get him on the phone and I just get his secretary so I try not to call there...
but I am going to worry about this all day if I don't just call and put my mind at ease...
This is silly. I'm sure it was just a fundraising call.
But at 7:57 am? That is very strange.
I had better call The Hubby.
No, I am being irrational. I should leave him alone.
I think I'll call The Hubby."

I called him. He was fine.
But why did the hospital call at 7:57 am?

Caller ID is a blessing and a curse.

Getting up to speed

Yes, I'm home.

I actually have been for over a week. The drive home was easy, thank goodness. We split it into two days, including a chance to have dinner with some friends. We didn't need chains for the drive home, although it did snow on us a bit. Pretty!

The Portland snow, the likes of which hadn't been seen in over 40 years, was pretty much completely melted by the 27th. It sure was tough getting up there, but we were glad we got to see it and play in it before it was gone!

We spent our time in Portland playing with family. Playing, my nephew's baptism, then playing, and more playing!

We drove home on Jan. 2 & 3. This means I had to watch the Rose Parade on television FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A ROW. It's kind of lame of us to live here but be out of town during the Parade. Maybe next year I'll be able to see it in person again...

The first week back to school after vacation is always kind of a shock to the system. It's kind of a feat just to make it through. By Wednesday, I woke up exhausted and with a headache, and didn't improve until the weekend. I did manage to get Christmas packed up and put away. I'm not quite as happy with my pack-up job as I was last year, but after several re-arrangements, it's all in the bins... so all's well that ends well.

This weekend, the kids spent some of their Christmas money. They all got things that go with their Christmas gifts. Big Girl got a DS from Santa, so she bought herself a case and a game cartridge. The Boy got a Leapster, so he chose a cartridge. And Middle Girl? Well, Middle Girl got an American Girl doll* from Santa, so she decided to order an outfit for Kit.

We also took the kids over to the golf course to practice on the putting green and the driving range. The Boy got clubs for his birthday from my MIL, so we had to go use them and enjoy the beautiful weather this weekend! Everyone shared the clubs and started working on these skills. I think it really warmed Daddy's heart to see them!

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* She's been looking forward to having her own American Girl pretty much ever since Santa gave Elizabeth to Big Girl two years ago. Big Girl was 6.5 at the time. My rule is "no American Girl until you are six years old," which in some ways has been hard on Middle Girl: she has some fellow little-sister friends who got American Girls at the same time as their big sisters, so that they were four or five. Luckily, I can point to the "For Ages 8+" in the catalog and say, "see how Mommy spoils you? I won't make you wait until you are eight!" and she has been appeased.

She turns six at the end of this month. She spent the last year deciding which doll she would ask for for her sixth birthday, and the decision was made by summertime: Kit. I wanted to come up with a way to surprise her, though - it was so fun to see Big Girl's face when Santa surprised her with Elizabeth. There was an obvious answer - let Santa bring Kit even though it was before the sixth birthday.

And it worked! She was speechless. She couldn't bring herself to open the box and touch Kit, so amazed was she that Kit was really here. I had to help her! She just stood there, across the room, and pointed!

My Santa errand was so fun, too. I went over to American Girl Place to pick out the perfect Kit, and as I was taking all of them off the shelf and examining them, a wonderful store employee came over to help me. She was an African-American woman, probably in her fifties. She was much more picky about the dolls than even I was! She took the lids off the boxes, examining their eyes, hair, the way their clothes were sewn, the even-ness of their legs, and when she found the best three, she put them up on a shelf together (lids off) and talked to them. "Are you the one, honey? I'm feeling you. Oh, Kit, girl, you sure are hot right now..." She asked me which one I thought was best, and when I chose one, she said, "now I can say that that's the one I was feeling all along. She was meant to be the one for you..." It's kind of cheesy, I know, but I had the best time with her, choosing the right Kit for my Middle Girl! What a Christmas it was for Mommy.