Proof that God exists?

K and I went to lunch today at Luca's restaurant.  (His hotness is another story entirely.....)  Anyway, we ordered pasta and water.  Luca, of course, offered us wine.  At the exact same time, I spout an emphatic "No" as K says "Yes!"  She's thinking he'll bring us each a glass.  But this is Luca, so of Course there's a full bottle of good red wine at our table moments later.  K has to nanny this afternoon, and I'm scheduled to teach a class of 4-year-olds.  Only three of them, but still.  Their little lives are in my hands for a full hour.

So we drink, maybe 2/3 of the bottle and order coffee.  That'll help, right?  Plus we have stomachs full of pasta, so there you.  And of course along with the coffee comes two double-shots of amaretto.  !

60 minutes later, I'm walking down XX Settembre on the way to the school, feeling downright drunk.  Not stumbling or slurring drunk, but in no shape to drive.  Of course I found it funny at the time, but really.  Drunk with tiny children?  Not cool.

So I get to the school a half hour early.  Drink some water.  Not feeling drunk, though still tipsy.  I do some last minute prepping.  I can pull this off, but it's still not cool.  

And at 4:25, I called it.  No one showed!  Yay!  This happens at the school from time to time - not a strange occurrence, but it's the first time it's happened to me.  So maybe God decided that these little babes shouldn't be in a classroom with me today.  

Good call, dude.  I'm with you.

How I'm failing Italy

I'm about to head into school to teach a couple of classes.  It's raining.  Again.  I had most of the day free, and Kim and I planned to go see some Genoa sights.  But it rained all friggin day.  It's tough to get motivated and excited when you're constantly being spit upon from above.

Because of the craptastic mood this place puts me in, when I come home I watch English television on itunes, read English books, and listen to English music.  To get the full Italian experience, I should really be watching Italian TV, walking around Italian neighborhoods, and spending my free time studying the Italian language.  Instead of whining about the stupid weather and bus system.

So tonight, after class, I buckle down with studying.  There are many things to do in preparation for the move to Assisi this weekend, but that doesn't mean I can't start now.  

Ciao,

Annie

Thank Goodness

Relief.  I woke up this morning, checked the online headlines, and learned of our next president!!!!   This feels a little sad, but I feel much more relief than excitement.  Maybe by February that will change.  I couldn't stay up late enough last night to see things as they happened, so it wasn't an energetic experience for me, but I'm calmer.  A little more hopeful, a little less worried.

What an exciting fact, though, that so many people were inspired to get involved, be it through volunteering or voting.  It's nice to think of so many people caring and working towards a common goal - a better nation, better world, better life, better future.  Super-corny, yes, but it's pretty swell.

When GW won (both times), I was crushed.  Cuh-rushed.  I hope that those rooting for McCain aren't feeling as badly as I did - that they have some confidence in Obama.  It'd be nice to have some more collaborative optimism.

And sidebar: Hooray!

Genova loses its charm

General updates:

- K and I have found a pretty good balance.  It no longer feels like "The K Show" and I've learned how to take some things with a grain of salt.  Part of that was thinking a little more about her perspective, which gave me, I think, more understanding.  It's still a challenge sometimes, but that comes with spending a lot of time with a person.  Aside from the challenges, she's also taught me a lot about different ways to approach life, and my own outlook.  Healthy.

- I'm starting to think I don't like teaching.  Part of the problem is that the teaching schedule in this environment is inherently chaotic.  They don't know until a few days before that some classes will occur, then they have to scramble for teachers.  The classes are all over town, so I'm regularly scrambling to learn how to get there.  (Tonight's is over an hour away - two buses and a train ride, plus 20-30 minutes of walking.  Not fun.)  I prefer a regular schedule with easily anticipated expectations for curriculum, location, etc.

- Commuting is a bitch.  It rains here all the time, and I spend about 3 hours of my day walking to the bus, standing on a smelly, crowded bus (with a heavy bag of books breaking my back), or standing in the pouring rain waiting for the bus.  Not my ideal Italy.

- Once you set aside the language and wonky store hours, Genova is actually a lot like DC.  Lots of commerce, somewhat stylish, people in a hurry, commuters, etc.  Only here it seems to be grey most of the time.  Boo.

- I'm speaking English all the time.  Duh, I'm teaching it, but I didn't think about what kind of impact that would have on my "Italian experience" I didn't know I was gunning for.  And it's making me a little resentful.

So I like a lot of the people here, but am not getting what I think I wanted out of the experience.  Last weekend K and I went to Assisi, where my family lived in 2006/07.  It is a beautiful area full of real Italian culture.  It is strong and moving.  I was overwhelmed with emotion the whole time I was there, and K fell in love with it, not surprisingly.

Result?  We're moving!  This weekend we visit Venice (Venezia in italiano), and next weekend we move to Assisi.  The more I contemplate, the more I don't want my Italian experience to include too much traditional work.  That cuts my trip short big time.  I probably won't be able to come back after Christmas.  But frankly I think I'll better relish in and value one phenomenal month in Assisi than I will a longer experience in Genova with strained, minimal pleasure.

Selfish?  Whimsical?  Maybe.  But I'm probably only going to live in this country once.  It'll be on my terms.

Italy update, confidential style

I have another blog.  Not cheating on you here, but the other one is public, and co-written by K, who's living here in Genova.  I try to keep my entries on the other blog limited to fun, interesting stories for my friends and family.

This blog is for me.  I've told (almost) no one about it so I don't feel inhibited about what I write.  Last night I had a great talk with Joyce about how things are going here, and it really made me feel better.  Here are the basics:

Life is hard.  (Duh.)  

1. I start teaching next week, and it's scary.  I'm already a lazy person in general, and I haven't worked in almost a month now.  Motivation does not come easily to me.  Plus, teaching will be something new, surprising, and difficult.  Joyce gave me some really good pointers - be myself, accept the fact that I'll make mistakes and the world will not end, etc.  

2. Everything is harder to do here than back home.  I knew this going in.  Of course, experiencing it firsthand is an entirely different matter.  I'm pretty good at appreciating the small things and being optimistic.  However, Kim deals by venting to me, and I tend to suck in her problems instead of letting them remain hers alone.  So her stresses, on top of mine, are making me unhappy and frustrated with her.  What is supposed to me a mutual commiseration and shared experience is starting to feel like the Kim show.  I'm sure she's been patient with me in ways that I haven't seen, and I want to be patient with her because I know she's scared, too.  It's a challenge, and I'm annoyed.  She literally asks me every day, "I don't know what to do.  What should I do?"  I don't know!  Be an adult!  Figure it out!  I'm dealing with my own stuff here!

Ok, there's one specific instance that I have to get off my chest.  It's a complaint, so if you're not in the mood, skip this paragraph.  We were out for pizza the other day, and people were playing music at the restaurant, then going from table to table asking for money.  (They didn't work for the restaurant.)  This happened with three bands during the 45 minutes we were there.  They are very persistent and in your face.  Additionally, a very dirty homeless man went from table to table asking for money.  (This is always a struggle for me.  We did not give him money.  I don't know if the situation is similar to that in America.  How do they spend it?  Are there local philanthropic organizations they could use, where I know my money would be spent on food/shelter?  What's the right thing to do?)  So anyway, we don't give him money, he moves on to another table, and we continue with our meal.  K's back is to the man, but I can still see him asking for money in his ragged clothes, with a limp, defeated face, etc.  I'm sympathetic.  K has moved on, understandably.  The next sentence out of her mouth  is, "So I'm going to buy a really expensive, designer bag while I'm here.  [big grin with clapping]  Yay!  I'm so excited!"  I'm disgusted.  I say nothing.  Who am I to say anything?  But still.  Disgusted.  Sure, I've considered the same thing at times.  But moments after snubbing the hungry homeless man?  And maybe he wasn't hungry.  Maybe he just wanted liquor.  Or maybe he was.  I don't know.  It just makes me.... unhappy.  I didn't like the situation at all.

3. Perspective is interesting these days.  There are times when I think about how much easier life in DC was.  I had friends, spoke the language, knew where to buy everything, understood the road signs (because there are road signs there), had a good job, wasn't far from my family, etc.  Why am I here?  Forcing difficult situations, bothering people who already have things figured out, embarrassing myself, burning through my savings, taking major risks, cutting myself off from my own culture, snubbing a good job in a drowning economy - am I insane?  Then I think - go back at Christmas, you fake!  You're not a teacher, and you were lucky to have the job you did.  Quit this selfish nonsense - you can't make it here anyway.  Sure, it was nice to learn a few new words, but you don't have the stamina or work ethic to really do this.  Stop kidding yourself.

Then I think, why not?  Sure it's going to be reeeeeally hard at first!  Sure I'll question myself, screw things up, bother people, worry about money.  Maybe I'll waste a lot of it, maybe I'll spend a bunch of money, live through a really challenging experience, and go back to America after a year and live a similar life to what I had before.  Would that be so bad?  I'll have had some major exposure to international life, interesting experiences that will affect me in ways I cannot predict, and see the world!  When I step back and look at it from a life philosophy perspective, it's clearly the right thing to be doing right now.  It's just hard, yo.  Like life.

4. My roommates are really cool and nice.  They're patient with me, considerate, smokers (ew), friendly, like movies, help me out, and speak some decent English.  They're upstairs chatting right now.  Sometimes, very irrationally, I think, "Seriously?  You're still speaking in Italian?  Can't we take a break here?"  Of course, I'm IN Italy, so hopefully that'll sink in soon.  : )

So basically I'm going through some growing pains.  Appreciating it in a big-picture kind of way, but only really feeling the immediate pains at the moment.  This afternoon K "needs" me to go to the computer store with her and help her figure out a new internet problem.  Afterwards, we're walking down to the beach to enjoy the ocean and go out for dinner.  In Italy.

So really, can I complain?

Just a little venting on my Birthday

Oh. My God-dah.  That’s how Nico says oh my God.  And that’s how I feel.  Life in Italy is overwhelming right now.  Challenging, frustrating, beautiful, charming, exhausting, and all new.  So much to learn.  But right now my focus is frustration, unfortunately.  And it has little to do with Italy.

K and I are living here together.  She is fun, outgoing, smart, and fairly laid back.  Her family has taken us into their home in Napoli for our first week in Genova.  SO generous.  They’re all wonderful, and I am incredibly grateful for their hospitality and warmth.  That said, having spent the last week 100% with K, I want some space on my own.  Our first day out, we took turns paying for things, intending to figure it all out later.  After such a tiring day, I think I had paid about 6 euro more, but neither of us had the energy to sit down and write it all out, so we said let’s just move on.  It’ll all come out in the wash, eh?  And since then she has borrowed when convenient and penny-pinched when lending, with regular reminders to pay her back.  Of course, it’s my responsibility to make sure my own finances are in order.  Just a little frustrating, ok?

We bought phone cards.  Dad told me (and I told Kim about 7 times), that the minutes reduce greatly when using them on a cell phone.  We bought them for 5 euro each.  On her first try, she lost the call after 5 minutes.  We tried a different kind, and the same thing happened.  We bought minutes on our own new cell phones later.  So last night when she had to talk to her boyfriend, the minutes didn’t last as long as she thought.  So after keeping me up talking about how everything is so hard, she used my minutes on my phone, and now wants to take one of my phone cards to use to meet up with her new boss tomorrow.  Then, “When I’m done, I guess I can give it back, if you want.”  What?!  I paid 5 euro for it!  I plan to use it wisely from a land line – of course I want it back!

Ok, one more.  She’s whining about everything.  “Why is this so hard?  It should be easier than this.  Not talking to b/f is soooo frustrating.  I wanted to do this.  I wanted to do that.  I wanted to get up earlier.  This is really expensive.”  Durr. Of course it’s harder.  Takes longer.  Quit bitching at me!  This is hard for me, too!  This morning, our very first conversation was her complaining to me.  And I’m tired.

So after all of that ranting and venting (which was good to get out), she has taken me in with her family for a whole week.  She keeps up good spirits with me when it’s hard.  She walked around town all morning yesterday helping me find and obscure part I need to charge my computer.  She’s a good person.  I think maybe, as a popular, pretty girl, she’s used to being taken care of somewhat.  And takes that for granted.  And I’m too polite/weak to stand up to her about it.  Grr.  I’m almost as much at fault as she is, I think.  

Today will be hard.  We’re moving to Genova today, and each carrying our own TONS of bags through multiple train stations.  We will be stressed and tired.  But when we’re done, I’ll be in a separate apartment with my own room and own space.  I am so ready for that!  

This week, though dramatically challenging, has been incredible.  My stress is getting the better of me this morning, but what a rewarding experience this has been.  

Today is my 29th birthday.

Validation, needles, and death threats

A few things I want to catch up here:

1. Validation.  Right now Staci and I are in a good place.  A week or two ago, she was grumpy, which made me feel on edge.  You've heard it before.  Ultimately, I'm guessing she was feeling a little left out b/c my Italy girl is staying with us for a few weeks.  But I can't be sure.  Anyway, sometimes I think these moods are in my head.  That I'm too sensitive or something, and making a mountain out of a mole hill.  However, with another person in the house (and two other peeps visiting one day), they All said something.  Is something wrong?  Why is she angry?  What's the deal?  I was happy to let the hostility go and just say, "She's having an off day - let's leave her be."  But I cannot tell you how great it felt to realize that it's not me.  It's not all in my head or all my problem.  Other people see this as irrational.  SO RELIEVING!

2. Needles.  Today I visited my doc b/c my wasp sting leg is still discolored.  Since I was there, she recommended I get a tetanus shot, which I did.  The nurse, a large and intimidating woman, came in to prep me and administer the shot.  I tried my darndest to charm this woman.  Lots of smiles, compliments, questions, jokes.  Nada.  Barely eye contact.  Finally I asked, "You're going to be gentle with me, right?"  Here response was to look me square in the eye and, in a tone that means NO, say "I'm gonna give you shot.  Heh heh heh...." as she walked out of the room.  Scary!!!!  Luckily, when she came back and did it, she was fantastic.  Barely hurt.   A total pro.  Still, I was shaking in my boots there for a few.  Was that really necessary?  With the evil laughing?

3. Death Threats.  On my way back to the office after the doc's appointment, I walked near a man talking to someone in a truck.  His one-sided conversation went something like this.  "What the hell?  I'll kill you, motherfucker.  I'll come over there right now.  Don't mess with me.  I'll put an ice pick in your mutherfucking heart, I swear."  And on and on.  I was going to stop to throw something away in a trash can just next to him, but decided I could wait until I got to work.  He ended up chasing the truck down, but it ultimately out drove (ran?) him.  People are crazy!

In other news, my oldest brother just moved to Chicago.  He's looking for a place to live and a job, while he also registers for Second City classes.  I'm really proud of him being so gutsy, and enjoy that I can help him with research tips, resume editing, etc.  All of this time in a formal office didn't go to waste!

Lovin Sue

I work with a darling woman named Suzanne, who learned just this week that there is a new cupcake place near our office, Hello Cupcake. She heard it was, well, divine, so she's been plotting to go some time this week. Suzanne is an over achiever who works many extra hours, so I'm always amused when something tears her away from her work.

It's approximately 10:30am here. I just received a phone call at my desk.

Sue: Hi there! Listen, somehow I ended up at Hello Cupcake this morning. Can I pick you up anything?
Me: [knowing she's supposed to be, you know, working] Gee, I wonder how you ended up all the way over there....
Sue: I know, totally weird. Anyway, I'm getting one. What do you want? The flavors are.....

Love her.

Update: she claims she actually Was out for a work task, and this was a convenient stop. Of course! BTW, I'm eating a root beer float cupcake right now. Wow.

Gross, as promised

Here are my wasp sting pictures. One of my calf where you can see where the stinger went in (and the hard, infected area around it)....

... one picture of the nasty puss bubbles up close....

... and one of the rash I developed only this past Thursday. After a week of antibiotics and nausea, I had an allergic reaction - red all over! You only get to see my neck, though. Lucky.

It got redder the next day, but I didn't have the energy to keep taking pictures. My lesson learned: never, EVER let a hospital staffer boss you around. If you're worried about something and you want to talk to your doctor or nurse, you do it. The jackass who answers the phone can't tell you what to do. Example below.

Me: I'd like to speak with Dr. Evans in the ER, please.

Lady: Certainly, I'll connect you to that office.

Dude: [bored] Hello, this is Jackass in the ER.

Me: [super-polite] Hi, my name is Annie. I was in the ER last week and saw Dr. Evans. Today I had a severe allergic reaction to the antibiotics she prescribed, and I'd like to talk to her about calling a different prescription into a pharmacy.

Jackass: You just want her to call it in?

Me: Yep, that's it!

Jackass: No, she can't just call in a prescription for you. You'll have to come back into the ER.

Me: But I'm on a road trip in Ohio - I can't come to Philadelphia today.

Jackass: That's what you have to do.

Me: I'm sorry. The pharmacist told me that she could just call in a new prescription.

Jackass: Well, pharmacists aren't physicians, are they?

[This is where I should have said, Are you a physician? Didn't think so. Why don't you shut your piehole and find me someone who knows what they're talking about. Instead....]

Me: [sob] So you're telling me I need to drive around until I can find an emergency room?

Jackass: Yes.

Me: Thank you. Goodbye. [click. sob sob sob]

At this point the rash is spreading quickly and totally freaking me out. I take a few minutes to wallow, and then convince myself that this is completely unacceptable. So I call back, talk to a lovely woman, and am soon connected with my doctor, who calls in a new prescription within minutes. Totally simple.

I'm not a vengeful person, but I hope this guy ..... *sigh* never mind. I'm healed!

Sideburns and Stress

Moving into stress mode now. The headaches and sleeplessness that come with them, as well. I'm keeping Staci at a distance (emotionally, at least) because she's been kind of hostile. But this weekend I'm driving to Ohio again to take some stuff! It's Emils' last weekend at the house. She'll be at Smith next week. We're all sickeningly proud.

Dad saw Grandma G last weekend, and it seemed to freak him out. She's in worse shape than he expected. (He totally digs her, even though he's not married to her daughter anymore.) So of course his freak out caused me to freak out a little. If I get there in early October and it's too late.... I just can't. So Mom agreed to keep me posted, which I'm sure she would have done anyway, and if I need to spend the money on another ticket, so be it.

I was driving home yesterday, feeling grouchy, when I saw a tall, lean man walking up the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Sadly, I could only watch him for a few seconds. He had reddish hair, a tan/light brown suit, sporty sunglasses, sideburns that almost reached his chin, and a ridiculous walk. He took extremely long strides, even for a tallie, and with each stride, swung his arms all the way up to shoulder level. It was silly and wonderful and put a big smile on my face. With strange rangers like this walking about, why should I waste my time thinking about the assholes in my life? I already waste enough time dealing with them in person.

I promise the gross leg pictures are forthcoming. They'll have to wait until after this weekend, though. Look at you! Getting excited!

Let's Talk

I am moving to Italy. In mere weeks. (7) In five weeks I leave work, then leave my future former home a few days later. Forevah. It's been a really good place to me, and the price was kick-a$$, but the ups and downs with Staci were killing me. Gah. It's times like that in which I wish I were more dude-like. They're so much calmer in those dramatic episodes. (Not all stay calm, but a lot of them.) Somehow they stay removed enough to remain unflustered. I usually maintain that balance with most acquaintances and strangers. But when a close friend bullies me, I'm defenseless at the start of the battle. No preparation, no offense tactics, no clue. Pummeled, eyes puffy from the fight.

So I work to focus on other things. The year ahead of me is full of exciting unknowns. I will never again live in my current party house. I will soon live amid a totally foreign culture and language. And I will master it! I will make new friends, and have a fabulous excuse for not having time to write to the high-maintenance ones back in the states. I will learn about myself. I will eat much pasta. I will laugh. I will explore.

There is so much to do before I leave, but I'm starting to get the itch to go.

Stay tuned for graphic pictures of my wasp sting. Coming up!

Whirlwind life

Everything is happening so quickly! We're interviewing for my replacement. Kim found us english-teaching jobs in Genova, and maybe a place to live. And the HR Manager can get us codici fiscali, which are like social security numbers in Italy. (A BIG load off my mind.)

Today we bought our tickets to fly to Rome on October 8. I need to find time to work on my ESL certification course. Italian class is on Mondays and Wednesdays, Rotaract on Tuesdays, conferences last weekend, this weekend..... whoa!

Mom and I had a nice change of pace. She was really guilting me and making me feel manipulated last weekend. "I hope you grandmother is still here when you come to visit in October.... You know she's probably going to die while you're in Italy." And, "I just hope that I've been half the mother that she was to me." pause pause pause.

After much fuming, cursing, drinking, and advice-seeking, I realized that she's nervous about me leaving and insecure in general in this traumatic situation. So I internally forgave her, and we've since been better. She's being nice, I'm being nice... it's all very nice.

It's all happening. It's all really happening.

First day in LA

Wow. I'm here for a Rotaract conference, and my first day was ... surprising. First of all, Midwest is the best of the airlines. The seats are so big and comfortable - and they bake you chocolate chip cookies on the plane! They're all warm and gooey! Next, the super shuttle people put me in the wrong van, which resulted in it taking three hours to get me to the campus where I'm staying this weekend. I was CRANKY. The guy driving could have been really cranky about it, too, but instead he just bitched about immigration and then dropped me off without letting me pay. Nice!

So, still cranky Annie, I checked in, changed, and started walking to the convention center. Starving. Dehydrated. With a headache. I found a little, local cafe on the way and stopped in. "Do you have any lunch-type food?" The guy asked me if I liked spinach and cheese. Who doesn't? So he let me use his restroom, said, "Sit down, relax, I'll take care of you," and he did. Minutes later, I had a warm, spinach-cheese croissant, a couple of aleve, some water, some nice magazines to read, and a skim vanilla latte with a heart-shape made in the foam on top. Perfect way to turn around the day!

Well, after the travel delay, lunch, registration, and getting my bearings, I'd missed the entire first day's session. What would I do tonight? I knew one Rotarian there, and he pawned me off onto this nice college girl from Egypt. Mona. She's awesome. Just as we were on our way to seek a local restaurant and city map, she spotted two Spaniards who she'd met earlier in the day. "They have nothing to do. I know it!" So we tag along with Oscar and Alex for the evening. They're going to Hollywood.

We hop on the metro, after receiving instructions from the convention center staff, and promptly miss our stop. After we get back to the right transfer and get off at Hollywood and Highland, we peruse some of the stars on the sidewalk, and then walk about 20 minutes down to a filming set where Oscar has a Production Coordinator friend. Rosana gave us a tour of the Weeds set! So cool. We were the typical tourists, taking pictures with the various set pieces, pretending to look angry or thoughtful sitting in the director's chair, you can imagine. (Weeds spoiler: there's an underground tunnel to Tijuana and there's going to be some drive-by action. Geno's going to be so jealous!!)

Then Rosana sends us on a walk that takes FOREVER to this incredible Argentine restaurant. Amazing beef. So delicious. I think it's called LaLa's, or something like that. Oscar and Alex are cracking jokes the whole way - everyone speaks excellent English. Alex tells me about how he and his wife met through Rotaract, and Oscar tells me about the respective lists that he and his wife have - movie-stars-you're-allowed-to-sleep-with-and-not-get-in-trouble. Hers are George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and he can't remember who else. His are Halle Berry, Angelina Jolie, and Jennifer Aniston.

We continue to have our pictures taken every 5 seconds at various entertaining locations, and cab back to where Oscar and Alex are staying - the University of Southern California campus. I insisted that instead of taking a cab back to my campus accomodations up the street, I'll walk. They tried to be all chivalrous, but I'm a tough, city girl, remember? I didn't realize it was ten city blocks..... or that I got to the wrong side of campus where there's no security guard to let me in. So I jumped the fence, muddied my black Donna Karen bag, and went inside to hit the sack.

But did I? No! I mingled. Made contacts. Got some Italy leads. I'm so relieved that this isn't the stuffy, boring, pointless, self-congratulating mess of a conference that I worried it would be! There are a lot of cool people here, and I'm excited to move forward with the Italy contacts, too.

BTW, I'm definitely moving. But that's a story for another post.....

Move to Italy

I've talked lots of big talk about moving to Italy one day. Sure, I should do it while I'm young and not tied down to a husband or kids. But what about a job? A visa? A car? Not being fluent? A phone? A place to live? Enough money to get started? Yep. Many reasons not to do it right now. And how long have I had to work on this? And I didn't do it.

Well my friend Kim is moving there this fall. She has family in Naples, who are apparently willing to put her up until she gets her bearings. She's signing up for a course this summer which will certify her to teach English as a Second Language (ESL). The program helps graduates with job placement.

And she asked me to come with her.

I've already stated all of the obvious reasons not to. I haven't been saving. Just paying bills, getting by, buying a new outfit now and then. Had I known...... and of course I just started a new job in February. Wouldn't THAT feel like a betrayal. Still, I don't owe my life to work. If this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (and it is), I can't turn it down over loyalty to an office or a profession that I'm not committed to for life. It would suck, but they don't own me.

I can't believe I'm considering this.

So Kim issued this proposition yesterday. My friend Becky gave me a calendar of famous women quotations - a new one every day. This is yesterday's:

"I have lived my life according to this principle: If I'm afraid of it, then I must do it."
-Erica Jong, scholarly sex novelist

While I'm no sex novelist (YET), that sure hit home.

I asked a good friend for her advice. She works with me, and takes seriously the responsibilities, even more than I do. I expected her to tell me about my responsibility here, all of the obstacles, the bad timing, etc. She said, "You have to do it."

I called Ohio and talked to Joyce last night. She rattled off all of the ways in which Italian bureaucracy makes every logistic imaginable next to impossible. Shared a Long list of how difficult and frustrating building a life there will be. Then she said, "If I were you, I'd do it."

I called Mom, who's totally overstressed with selling her house, buying a new one, moving in with her husband, taking care of Grandma who's fading fast with cancer, and generally being overwhelmed. She shared a few general suggestions, like making a pro/con list and making a list of everything there would be to do. Then she said, "You'll never do anything great if you don't take a risk."

Gah! I might actually do this. The pressure is on for lots of reasons. My friend is going this fall, so that's when the cushion of her family's help will be available. She's going to grad schools next fall, so she'll only be there a limited time. That's a big cushion to give up just to wait to get myself more financially stable. The course she's taking is this summer. It's $800 if you register by June 14. $900 after that. So many thoughts.....

I know that negative 14 people read this blog, but advice is welcome!

Clarence Carter

This morning, though sluggish (the usual), I managed to get up a little early and actually do my hair. So I come in, feelin' all cute. Then around 11 I head to the restroom to find that my fly had been open since I got dressed this morning. Nice.

Next, my allergies kick in. I forgot to take my Zurtec yesterday, so today I pay. A lot. Much fluid leaving the body. So I'm generally foggy, trying to make it through the day, feeling sorry for myself, etc., when all of a sudden, my ipod plays Strokin by Clarence Carter. The fact that I can listen to this song with ease in my private little office at work makes me smile. Big.

A few things

First, I'm so proud of my family. I went to my sister's art show last weekend, which she used as her graduation celebration. She snubbed the high school ceremony, in her fashion. The art show was satisfying. There were lots of people from what felt like, I guess, my past. Professors, previous neighbors, work study bosses, etc. Some left a bitter taste in my mouth, but overall it was very positive.

They're tearing down the building in which I took my theater classes. I staged scenes in its theater, learned how to design sets there, slept there, learned lines there. Lots of memories.

Nic is 13. He's the tallest of all of us. He's turning into a confident man. Sure, he's a teenager, so he's going to do a lot of stupid stuff, but he's becoming a purposeful, kind, considerate person. Wow. Every time I go home, I bond more with Dad and Joyce. It's truly fun and rewarding. I really enjoy talking to them like ... friends.

My grandparents were there. Dad's parents. They're aging in a very noticeable way, which makes me tear up now. They're both so ingrained in my life's story. I'm terribly frustrated that I can't go and live near them. I dislike being in that part of the country. It's depressing.

Once, while driving back to the house after helping Emily hang her show, I noticed a little brown furry something next to the 2-lane highway. It was kind of a lump, tucked under itself. Emily noticed that I noticed it and said, "Yeah, it's a teddy bear." I was relieved at first to know that it wasn't cuddly roadkill. But then, the thought of a little teddy bear that someone once valued, dirty, run over maybe, and lost at the side of the road. Sad, right? So I started feeling way too sorry for this little inanimate object, when Emily says, "Yep, little Teddy Roadkill." Cracks up Joyce and me, I'm assuming because we both remember Teddy Ruxpin. Remember that talking bear? There's no actual point to this story. I just enjoyed the moment so much that I wanted to be able to look back on it with accuracy.

Now I'm back in Virginia, though I'd rather be in Ohio. (Who thought I'd ever say that?) Said goodbye to Kurt today, and I won't see him for a couple of months at least. That's really weird and hasn't sunk in yet. But it undoubtedly sucks big time. He's going to visit family, which will probably be pretty swell.

And now my Negative Nancy of a passive aggressive roommate has reared her ugly head again. The long, dramatic sighs, the silent treatment. Yep, she's a peach. I really don't understand it. There are days, weeks, sometimes months when we're great to each other. Considerate, fun, good listeners, supportive, all that good stuff. But sometimes her moods make me so uncomfortable. And when that mood is directed at me.... I really don't handle it well. I go from thinking one day that she's one of my dearest friends in life. Someone to be in my wedding, etc. And somehow, mere hours later, I think that I no longer have the strength to remain her friend. Is this abnormal? It certainly feels that way. It definitely tires me.

But there are some easy, simple focus points that give good perspective. I have a job. Decent health. I can take a bubble bath whenever I want. I have health insurance. An incredible, loving, supportive family. And a handful of damn fine friends. Kurt and I fantasize sometimes about the friend-commune we'd create. Ok, commune probably isn't the best word, but we really wouldn't need anybody else. Outside of our family members and the folks who will run the great restaurants and concerts we go to, we've selected a stellar group of friends who should live near us. Namely, Scott and Sara, Ethan, Jaime, Ben and Karey, Shannon and Elena, and ..... I think that might be it. On the side, I have a few of my own that Kurt isn't as close with, but I'd want there as well. *sigh* If only.

This is the start of a new week. And there's no reason I can't start this week with a positive, healthy, optimistic agenda. I deserve it.

The South: Charming or Disturbing?

I enjoy southern accents. Southern food. Southern family members, houses, vacation spots, and sometimes weather. Southern politics, not so much. It stresses me out. I appreciate southern pride, but more often than not, when I hear about something American that embarrasses me, it usually came from the south. And that includes our president.

Yesterday I read part of a report that was released by AIDS Alabama and the Sexuality Information and Education Council of the United States. First of all, I'd never heard of this council. I'm relieved that it exists. Second, they're calling on Alabama school systems to update and correct their sex ed. programs. They use inaccurate information and guilting/shaming tactics to encourage abstinence.

The part that stuck out most for me was that they claim if you disrespect yourself by having premarital sex, you'll lose all self respect, ruin your reputation, AND, deservingly, all of your friends. The materials also suggest that you drop friends and avoid people who have earned a promiscuous reputation, as they will only shame you and lead you astray. Here's a direct quotation from the report about the importance of the marriage ceremony.

"the curriculum tells students that the tradition of lifting the veil shows that 'the groom [is] the only man allowed to uncover the bride,' and demonstrates 'her respect for him by illustrating that she [has] not allowed any other man to lay claim to her.'"

AHHHHHHH! Obviously, that's just one state's materials, and they vary a lot throughout the country. I understand the controversy. Some school board somewhere is deciding how to talk to my child about sex. How dare they?

If you're interested in seeing the report, you can view it here: http://www.siecus.org/policy/SpecialReports/Alabama_Report.pdf

Coming from another direction, a friend of mine is visiting the Netherlands right now, learning about their culture, history, political set-up, education system, health system, etc. In the Netherlands, most people aren't very religious. The rate of premarital sex, and the age that teenagers start having sex is pretty much the same as here. But their sex education is thorough in school. Abstinence isn't a focus, and they learn about all of their birth control options. As a result, their rate of teenage pregnancy (age 15-19) is 8.7 per 1,000 inhabitants. The rate in the US is 79.8 per 1,000 inhabitants. Their abortion rate is 4.2 per 1,000 inhabitants. The US rate is 27.5. Our STD rate is five times higher as well.

Ok, enough dumping on the US (for now). This is a huge country with massive diversity, and inevitable issues that come from so many different people trying to live together. America is hard. I know that. And much of its population is religious, usually Christian. That's not going away. And it's not all good or all bad. Part of me is disappointed that we can't all rally around one idea to move forward - progress. At the same time, it's the competing ideas that make everything so interesting, right? That keep us in check?

I could go back and forth on this all day. Time to take a break.

Satan, thy name is Pollen

I didn't have allergies before I moved to DC. A couple of years ago, I thought I might have them, but it was a mild, short-lived episode. Today I walked out of the house, and a circus appeared in my nasal cavity. Since that time, I have yet to go more than three minutes without a sneeze attack, warranting at least three tissues. I bought a large, family sized box of tissues about two hours ago. It's half gone. My eyes are puffy, watery, and a little itchy. My nose is a disaster.

This is a whole new game to me, and I'm losing. I took a Claritin over an hour ago, but apparently it takes a while to kick in. You can guess how hard I'm working today.

A few thoughts from the past week or so:
1. Grandma's surgery went well. We're waiting on biopsy results to find out if she'll have to undergo radiation and/or chemotherapy.
2. I got to hear Uncle Pat preach at his Baptist church when I was visiting a couple of weeks ago. He's a good speaker! The Baptist church wasn't my cup of tea, but it was nice. Somehow, the guy sharing lead vocals and playing the acoustic guitar reminded me of every jackelobe in college who used his guitar to get laid. Plus he kept saying, "Father-God...." which gets under my skin.
3. Dad's mom cracks me up. She made breakfast for me the day I left (deelish), and we got to listen to Grandpa's politics/religion opinions for about an hour and a half. Surprisingly entertaining.
4. I had to go to lunch with a nice girl and an obnoxious geezer yesterday. He made us both commute to this ritzy club, where all the wait staff are minorities and most of the members are old, white men. There were no prices on the menu. I hated it. Luckily, he paid.
5. My personal loan is almost paid off - less than $70 left. Kick ass!
6. Can't decide what to do for Mother's Day, other than cards. Mom is getting a corsage surprise from Geno and me at mass. Do I send flowers to Grandma? None of the ladies in my life need any more things. What's a girl to do?
7. This is vile, but I'm recording it for posterity's sake. What did one tampon say to the other tampon? Nothing. They were both stuck up bitches. Hah!
8. My sister made it to second base. Show the love!

The sneezing continues.....

Smells like childhood

I just got to Mom's, and when I walked into the pantry, the smell took me right back to junior high. A time I do not care to re-live, even in memory. All the seeping negativity I had at that age came rushing back. Blech. Don't even want to get into detail.

But I'm staying positive! Heading over to Grandma's shortly, and the sibs will be here tonight. Good times ahead! Posistive positive positive!

Les Mis and How I Met Your Mother

I don't think I've ever posted a video on this blog, and I don't intend to make a habit of it. However, this brings me so much joy that I have to share.

It's storming

I love the sound of the thunder. It is so calming. When I was a little girl, I couldn't sleep if I knew there was something going on in the living room or kitchen. Fun conversations, games, laughter, etc. But that late at night, if I was in the room with the action, I could easily fall asleep. Something about having those people and those enjoyable moments surrounding me gave me comfort, and sleep came easily.

Something about thunder is comparable to that. It distracts me from my own thoughts that might keep me up. Other, louder, more interesting things are going on, so I can let those take over my mind, and rest myself.

Dad is bringing the full Ohio clan to Illinois next weekend. Geno will be a huge help at Grandma's with his humor and stories. I'll want to have an evening or something with the Ohio peeps and the other Grandparents, but I don't know if Mom's guilting (or my own) will allow it. Character-building times ahead.

Bad phone call

Mom just called, very upset. Grandma has been losing too much weight, and it turns out there's a large, cancerous mass in her kidney. They're taking it out a week from Tuesday, and the other one can't sustain her, so she'll be on dialysis. But they're not sure if she will be able to survive the surgery, either.

This is so weird.

She's over 80, so it's not like this is a blind-siding kind of thing. But my feelings aren't very interpretable. Generally I feel kind of numb about it, like it's not sinking in, which I guess is normal. When I say the words out loud to someone else, I start to cry. But not sob cry or face-contort cry. Just some tears dropping out to accompany the words. But rather than physically or even straightforwardly feeling SAD, I just feel really, really distracted. Kind of ADD meets completely zoning out. I don't know if that makes sense, but I have a feeling that the next couple of weeks will bring forward multiple emotions that won't make sense right away, so I want to kind of..... organize. Get it down. Say it out loud. Write it. I'm not even sure, but I don't want to get completely lost in it.

Grandma is pretty stoic. She doesn't want to cause anybody any extra hassle. (This appointment was originally scheduled for May 8, but mom made them find a slot sooner. Grandma didn't want to cause trouble.) She likes cards, jokes, and manhattans. She laughs more easily than most would, with her history, and she can drink me under the table.

So I'm flying to Illinois next weekend to hang out with her before the surgery for a few days. How on earth do I make that time fond/enjoyable/fun/laughter-filled and keep it away from painful silence? And what could I do, say, or give to her that would make her smile and feel more loved than she already does? In essence, how can I best be a comfort? This is new. I don't know how to do this. I mean, I'll be there and I'll do it in whatever way comes naturally, but I wish I could prepare or something.

Dizzy Duchess

I'm light headed and not so pleasant at the moment, due to the construction in our office. There are fumes, dust particles everywhere, etc. The construction guys are really nice, but the other stuff causes mucho sneezing, headaches, dizziness, etc. I'm taking a comp day tomorrow, which will give me a nice, long weekend.

But allow me to share my trip to San Antonio. I didn't think I would like it, as Texas sometimes seems like a country of its own, in both good and bad ways. But I did. I do. I like San Antonio. The River Walk was great, especially with all of the live music. Jazz, salsa, folk, all good. The margaritas were excellent, as was the guacamole. I enjoyed the Alamo a lot more than I thought I would, and sent plenty of post cards to family with the necessary joke about looking for the basement.


Equally interesting (don't judge), I went into the wax museum and Ripley's Believe it or Not museum. Ripley's was pretty fascinating. Sometimes gross, but usually just eye-catching. But what I find myself continuing to consider is something from the wax museum. First of all, there are several sections. It's not just celebrities. You've got your stars of today and yesteryear, sometimes in character clothing, sometimes not. You've got your fairy tale figures (Cinderella, Rumplestiltzkin, Hansel & Gretel), then your local (Texas) historical figures. Pancho Villa was there with what I think was a real, stuffed horse. There are a few presidents in there, some nameless soldiers and scenes from the nation's history. There's a horror section, which I never enjoy. (Though it was funny - I went with a board member from work, and I had my fingers in my ears the whole time, making him walk first and open all the doors. I really don't do haunted houses.) My most exciting figure to see in person was probably Indiana Jones, though others were certainly more realistic depictions. (Some were really bad!)

Finally, the last section was religious. There are a lot of Catholics in the area, which I'm guessing is the reasoning for having this kind of display. You see the last supper, Jesus dragging the cross, Jesus crucified, and then the pieta pose. It's kind of graphic, and to me, seems inappropriate for children. I didn't have a camera, but found some other pictures online. The sad thing is, the one of him on the cross has a girl in front of it, posing with her hand on her hip. She's on a family trip & wants to look cool in the pictures, which seems totally on target for kid-priorities. But how de-sensitized are we that our children aren't phased in the slightest when seeing a man nailed up by his wrists for torture? I know it's a common image, but it's still pretty graphic. You can't see the detail in these pictures, but he's grimacing and crying in both.



I also managed to get caught up in the American Airlines debacle and had all flights canceled. It bought me more time in the city, which was pretty nice. Sitting now in this dusty office makes me long for fresh air, fresh jazz, and fresh margaritas. Mmmmmmm. Oh, and Harrison Ford.

Hey, Sister. No, really.

One of the committee folks I work with regularly is a nun, so we often address her as Sister. She sent me a very nice email today, and I replied with some well-deserved compliments for her. One of the phrases used in my email was, "You run a good call, Sister." This made me laugh out loud. It's totally Ashley.

Do you ever hear terms or phrases and think to yourself, I should really start saying that! What a charmer! Ashley's "sister" is one of them. "Malarkey" is another (to replace sh__, if I can be quick enough to catch myself.) I should really write them down as I think of them or hear them, as they're so easy to forget.

And of course, there are the phrases I'm trying to eliminate from my own vernacular due to overuse.
-Let's be honest, ....
-I apologize if I've told you this already, but.... (gah!)
-Talk to you later. Have a good night. (at the end of phone convo. Really? MUST I end every call the same way? I am my mother.)

There are more (clearly), and every time they escape my lips, I want to pinch myself out of annoyance. Quit it!

Tootsie Roll Star

I'm eating a tootsie roll pop. Remember when we thought that if your wrapper had a star on it, you were supposed to get another free sucker? Usually there was an Indian (Native American) pointing a bow and arrow at the star. I remember feeling really lucky when my wrapper had one, but I don't think I ever tried to cash it in. I knew I'd be monumentally disappointed if I went up to the counter and was denied this wonderful advantage I'd assumed true for so long.

Did anybody ever get a free one? Was that a myth?

Let My Love Open the Door

I have that ehexcellent song in my head right now due to an eheheeexcellent movie I saw last night: Dan in Real Life. I am purposely not linking to any sites about it. If you haven't seen it, don't read about it. Just watch. I find that I enjoy movies MUCH more if I don't know much about the plot direction ahead of time.

I will say that the movie's music surprised me in a lovely way, and I strongly related to multiple characters and the wonderful humanity in the situations and their actions/reactions.

I will share the song with you, though.

Avoiding Church

On the phone with my mother, after approximately 80 minutes of trying to help her download itunes. (First she had to download Windows XP Service Pack 2, which requires Internet Explorer 5, but you can only download 7, but that download requires that you already have SP2.... the horror.)

Mom: Well, now I'm set up to receive an automatic windows update at 3am. Do you think if we try again tomorrow, it could work after the automatic update?
Me: (trying to stay optimistic) Sure, let's try that.
Mom: Ok. Well, I'll be at church tomorrow night, so maybe I'll try in the morning.
Me: Church on a Thursday? (big mistake here, duchess)
Mom: Well it's Holy Thursday, honey.
Me: Oh.
Mom: Easter is this Sunday.
Me: Right. Yes. I-
Mom: You really should make your plans to at LEAST attend church on Easter.
pause
Me: Good, so let's plan on re-trying the itunes installation tomorrow, then. You can call me at work or on my cell if you have any questions. Hopefully it'll work this time! If not, maybe we'll call Geno or something. By the way, your birthday is coming up pretty quickly. Any specific requests?
Mom: (totally seeing through my aversion, but knowing that a confrontation here will bring about an unpleasant disagreement and possibly tears) Well I do need some new clothes.....

fat rolls & good jokes

They're out of control. Pretty soon my belly will reach out further than my chest when I sit down. I'm going to be with Annika tonight - personal trainer. Hopefully we can sweat some of it out!

New jokes!

Knock knock ... (who's there)
Minnesota ... (Minnesota who?)
Minnesota bad mood & I dunno what to do about it.

Why do scientists disconnect their doorbells?
So they can win the no-bell prize!

What's the different between Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and Jane Fonda?
Jane actually went to Vietnam. Hah!

And an old fave.....
A: Look! A bunch of cows!
B: Herd.
A: Heard of what?
B: Herd of cows.
A: Of course I've heard of cows!
B: No no no.... a cow herd.
A: I don't care. I don't have anything to hide.

It's days like today

... that make me want to drink at work. But I don't! And the funny thing is, it's not work that's making me feel this way. It's non-work business and drama. As one may expect, I stressed myself all weekend over the friend dramz mentioned in a previous post. A weekend spent with my family for my sister's 18th birthday. Overall, the weekend was good, and I got to thinking about getting my master's, which feels like a strong next step in life.

Anyway, after saying some of the mean things I wanted to say to my friend (but never would) out loud to make myself feel better (which worked), there were two points that ultimately eased my worried noggin. And so I remind myself of these two points regularly.

1. What will I think of this in 50 years? Will I care? Be proud/ashamed of my actions? Will it matter?

2. I should not feel regret about my actions as long as I act with grace and kindness. Grace. Kindness. Fini.

It is 5pm, and I have yet to draft an agenda for tonight's board meeting. Ack! Back to work.

Pissy

I'm trying to stay positive. A friend of mine really pissed me off last night. I disappointed her, she pointed it out, I apologized several times (although it was seriously not a big deal), and she remained quiet. We talked after that, but I felt awkward. There are things that I let slide for this person all the time, and she didn't accept my apology. We're very different. When she has a negative opinion about something or someone, she feels the need to make it known. Adamantly, and in my opinion, in a hostile fashion. I, on the other hand, prefer to focus on the positive and try not to vocalize the negative unless it seems necessary to move forward, or I simply need to vent. I'm not very confrontational, and I'm sure that's part of it.

So here's what happens. When she bothers me, I try to focus on other things and let it go. There are more important things to think about, and what's done is done. Why create more drama? Move on, remember lessons learned for next time, and keep in mind the positive elements. She's a kind friend, good listener, smart, dependable, etc.

But when I bother her, she feels that it's necessary to address it, discuss it, and elaborate on however I let her down. In a way, I know she's standing up for herself, and I respect that. But something about her communication style in these conversations makes me feel very much attacked. I remain shaken for hours, if not days, and I feel almost hated. Unfortunately, I'm still too invested in what others think of me, and this certainly contributes to my reaction.

Part of me feels slighted because last night, for example, I felt let down by her in three different ways. But it's not worth the stress of a confrontation about it to get whatever's bothering me off my chest. So why does she get off the hook for her shitty behavior and I have to suffer for mine? When her offenses were worse? Because she chooses to address her problem, and I choose not to address mine. It's not worth it. I'd rather not cause a rift. It doesn't seem necessary. Bottom line: we're different, and I just feel like I'm getting the short end of the stick.

I wish I could write her off, but I care about her a lot, work on multiple committees with her, and live with her. So.... that's pretty much out of the question. I suppose I need to work on NOT taking everything so personally, being more objective, and stop apologizing all the effing time. It would also help if she weren't so damn self-righteous. Blech. Feel free to advise. I'll take all the help I can get.

How can you not love David Beckam?

He's pretty, talented, ripped, hard working, has a great sense of humor, likes taking care of his family, and THIS is how he spends his spare time while traveling. Does it get any better?

I guess if he wanted to be my personal trainer or sit around and watch movies with me all day, that'd be ok, too.

Picture Digging

Although I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, I just came across these two beauts from my cousin's wedding last August. Here are Grandma and Grandpa having a grand old time on the dance floor, as they usually do.


And here's gramps with Joyce's hat on. I often forget how he likes to dress up.....

Exercise fiend, you say?

I am now officially one who exercises. I have done something never before attempted by, um, me. I joined a gym. And not only did I join, but I am meeting with a personal trainer for multiple sessions. My general goal is to stay motivated and stick with it. And, you know, eventually fit these calves into some knee-high boots. I heard once that after you build up your muscles, you can no longer shrink that part of your body. You can just keep it toned at its current size. Is this true? Am I destined to have chunky calves forever? Hopefully not.

Signing up was a bit of an ordeal. I argued with the manager selling me the membership package for about 90 minutes. He convinced me pretty quickly that he doesn't benefit differently depending on which package I buy, but he was pretty insistent on upgrading me so my long-term expenses would be minimal. I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, so we had to compromise. Poor fella. Seemed pretty frustrated, in a really entertaining kind of way.

Regardless, I have since gone through one personal training session, and I'm optimistic. I have no appropriate gear for this, mind you. Just a couple of sports bras, a few concert tees, and some pajama pants. It's extremely tempting to drop into Clarendon's Lululemon store, given all the rave reviews, but I really haven't earned a $150 pair of workout pants yet. I guess I'll have to deal with Target or one of the discount sporting stores for the time being. Still, I think a reward system might be in order. Plus, I read somewhere that the Clarendon store has free yoga on Sunday evenings. Might have to check on that....

Physical fitness, here I come!

Is it true?

I mean, c'mon. My feelings are comPLETEly mixed. But they are catchy. Horribly, painfully catchy.

What do you think?

Getting Organized

I have yet to figure out what triggers me into an organizing, productive frenzy. It's about time for another one! I have two desks covered in "to do" stacks, and all I want to do is shop. Advice? How do you get motivated?

I'm hoping the simple, productive task of balancing my checkbook will (a) get the ball rolling and (b) prevent me from cruising Anthropolgie.

Good job, Ohio!

Nope, I'm not talking about the election. I'm talking about THIS Ohio mom who I think totally rocks. Instead of taking the easy route by conforming her little boy's haircut, or taking the super-public route of fighting it (which could be pretty interesting), she's taking her business elsewhere. I think this is a fabulous example to set for her son. Yay Ohio mom!!! Yay for Michelle Barile!!

Her name was Joanne

I had an adventure trying to get back to DC from mom's wedding earlier this month. The wedding went pretty well, and was super-Catholic, as was appropriate for mom and Joe. Becks and I ended up driving all the way back from central Illinois, so we were waaaay tired upon arrival. My Aunt Carol took us to the airport three or four times over those two days, let us stay over, fed us, took us shopping, out to lunch, generally kept us happy for 24 hours.

I asked dad for a thoughtful thank-you gift idea, and we agreed upon a couple of Michael Nesmith albums. One CD, on LP. One of Carol's favorite songs ever is called "Joanne," and it's darn pretty. After my own run of research to find the perfect albums to buy her, I have to say, I'm hooked. I'm a new Nesmith fan, and I certainly recommend him to all you folkies out there.

Who danced on the bar last night?

Me. I did. And it was glorious. I'm sure I looked at least slightly foolish, since I can't really dance. But I will say that I haven't gone out dancing in a long time. Went out with some girlfriends and we ended up at a bar with a bunch of other buddies, including the ex and his girlfriend. Those encounters seem to get easier every time, which is nice. Plus, I was having way more fun, so that's always a perk.

So the bartender announces that ladies who dance on the bar (I think to a Bon Jovi song that just came on) get free shots. Melissa and I jumped on up and had a pole to work with to boot. It was a little tough balancing on such a small space with such high heels, but we managed. SO FUN. The whole night was a great way to blow off steam. Things have been extra tense lately. Here's a brief list:

1. Changing jobs in February. Not ready now, not going to be ready then. Currently preparing for disaster and working 14 hour days & weekends.
2. Planning and preparing for a big ceremony this weekend. Worried about how everything will go, but trying to go with it.
3. My mom, dad, stepmom, and 2 sibs are coming into town for the ceremony. We're all going to hang out together, which we never do, and I feel like I need to play hostess and keep everyone happy. It's going to be weird.
4. Mom gets married in less than three weeks, and in addition to the song the boys and I are singing at the ceremony, she wants me to sing again at the reception. I don't have a gift for them yet and may not fit into my dress.

Ack! So last night's party-fest was really helpful. OH! And first we went to a beach party at a friend's house, and they had a room blocked off, full of popcorn packaging - you know those little styrofoam pieces? It was filled up 3-4 feet high, and it was soooo fun playing in that room!

Overall a seemingly unproductive weekend that really helped me out. And now... back to reality. Wish me luck!

Bringing the Protest Songs Back

This year for Christmas, one of my favorite presents was a songbook called "Rise Up Singing." Lots of folk songs, some standards, and lots of good memories for me. I've started listening to more protest songs lately, and here's a great one by John Prine that's in the book:

While digesting Reader's Digest In the back of a dirty book store,
A plastic flag, with gum on the back, Fell out on the floor.
Well, I picked it up and I ran outside Slapped it on my window shield,
And if I could see old Betsy Ross I'd tell her how good I feel.

Chorus:
But your flag decal won't get you Into Heaven any more.
They're already overcrowded From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin' No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you Into Heaven any more.

Well, I went to the bank this morning And the cashier he said to me,
"If you join the Christmas club We'll give you ten of them flags for free."
Well, I didn't mess around a bit I took him up on what he said.
And I stuck them stickers all over my car And one on my wife's forehead.

Repeat Chorus

Well, I got my window shield so filled With flags I couldn't see.
So, I ran the car upside a curb And right into a tree.
By the time they got a doctor down I was already dead.
And I'll never understand why the man Standing in the Pearly Gates said...

"But your flag decal won't get you Into Heaven any more.
We're already overcrowded From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin' No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you Into Heaven any more."

"Universal Soldier" is another good one - Donovan, I think, if you want to look it up. I've been having a swell time singing old songs and those that are new to me. Corny as it sounds, it is SO fun when the family gets together over the holidays and sings. A few people get their guitars out, and all kinds of good songs start. Old, new, pretty, dirty, silly.... I wish I had that here at home, too, with some friends, but the rarity of it certainly makes it a special occasion.

Two of my childhood favorites: "Marvelous Toy" and "Daddy, What's a Train?" If you have kids, look 'em up!