NaBloPoMo Day 13: Totally Random College Throwback

So, I randomly came across my personal statement.  The one I wrote when applying to the University of Washington Business School.  It's always strange to read old writing, but in this case it's also surprising because there is so much about it that still feels the same, even 12 years later...  I still miss Human Resources and why I went into it.  I get to dabble in it a tiny bit at work, but not that much.  I loved the HR class I took at UW, and hope I'll get to use them more someday.

University of Washington School of Business Personal Statement

1. “You’re such a dork!” I remember very clearly the words I heard my best friend say to me one day as we were walking home from class in the ninth grade. I listened to her talking about how when I got some money, we would go shopping and I could buy myself a new wardrobe. She didn’t seem to be considering the fact that I might not want a new wardrobe. I suddenly realized that she wanted me to conform because she was embarrassed of me. She wanted me to turn into another version of herself, which she would find more acceptable. It all started years before that, when I changed schools in second grade. I had many nicknames after that, such as “geek” and “nerd”. Although I got used to it, it never stopped hurting. I became resigned and just accepted that I would never be part of the “in” crowd, just because I was five pounds heavier, or because I tucked my shirt in, or laughed differently. By the time I was in middle school, I’d accepted the teasing and taunting as my fate. Before I knew it, the transition to high school had arrived. My best friend through middle school decided she didn’t want to be friends anymore, to reasons I have never discovered. Although it was hard, it also forced me to get out there and make new friends, to stand up and say, “This is me”. Ninth grade changed everything. I got less and less shy, and made friends who liked me for what I was, not for the clothes I wore or the way I talked. I still wasn’t part of the “in” crowd. I probably am not part of that crowd now, and never will be. After all these years, I know there are still people who think that I’m a dork. I have much more confidence in myself though, and I know how to stick up for myself. Our society bases so much on fitting in that many people never realize how important it is just to be yourself, and realize that in itself is special. It’s not all about what clothes you wear or what car you drive, or how high up in the company you are. It’s nice to know that I didn’t go through all of those years of being a geek for nothing. 

2. By the time I reached my sophomore year in high school, I didn’t feel that the classes I was taking were very challenging. Luckily, my school offered Running Start to their students, and during my junior year I was able to start attending classes at Whatcom Community College. I loved everything about it. I liked being treated as an adult and being challenged by my classwork, and I embraced life there. The one downfall I saw in the program was that by the time I finished high school I was only one quarter away from earning my Associates Degree. Although I was proud of this achievement and glad to go back for one more quarter to continue and complete my classes, I also think that completing that much schooling in such a compacted period of time is very difficult. By the time I finished my degree, I couldn’t imagine being in school any longer. However, I managed to keep my grades up at a pretty good level, and to make the deans list my last quarter there, which is something I am proud of. I went back to school one quarter later to study overseas, and then took the following year off. What this time off allowed me was to once again become excited about the prospect of being in school and learning new things. I am just starting my second quarter at the University of Washington. Last quarter, I took Accounting, Math, and Economics classes, and loved every minute of it – I even liked reading my textbooks! My year working and time off allowed me to discover a new and interesting career path, and to learn a lot about what it’s really like being involved in a corporation.

3. While I was out of school, I got a job as a customer care representative at VoiceStream Wireless. During the year that I worked there, I was exposed to things that I never knew I would be interested in. In that time, I experienced exponential growth and three mergers/acquisitions with them. At VoiceStream, everything was always changing. While I was working there in 1999 and 2000, I also witnessed big changes in the atmosphere and morale of the work environment. At first, it was a dream come true. They treated every worker as an individual; even the managers knew our names. I was able to earn extra skills, like handling escalated customers, and could earn pay raises and receive additional training. We were also empowered to help the customers in any way that we needed to in order to fix their problems. VoiceStream had the best customer service I had ever experienced, and I was a part of it. Things changed and by the time that I quit a year later, it was a rare occurrence to even see a smiling face. It seemed as though everything had been taken away from us. We were no longer allowed to use the extra skills we had earned, as the general customer queue was so behind all the time. We were rarely informed of policy or companywide changes when we needed to be. Any opportunity for career advancement within the call center had disappeared. I no longer felt that the people higher up in the company really cared about me as an employee. There were many issues that had been brought up involving morale and the changes in the company, but it didn’t seem like anyone’s concerns were being addressed. The change that I saw happen while working for VoiceStream made me think about the way that companies treat their employees. Working there allowed me to see a world I had never experienced before- the business world. It was one of the most interesting things I’d ever seen. I wanted to learn more about it, and could see myself being involved in it for a long, long time. Because the employees are at the heart of the company, and in many companies are dealing directly with the customers; the way that they feel and are treated on a daily basis can affect everything from efficiency to customers’ impressions about the company. I have seen these effects firsthand, and how important it is that employees feel appreciated and heard. My goal is to involve myself in HR or management, focusing on employee relations to develop healthy and efficient ways to relate to their employees, while still running the firm efficiently.

Thankful Day 9: Babysitter Jen

Today I am thankful for our main babysitter these days, my friend Jen.  Having a babysitter I trust who can often accommodate fairly last minute requests is beyond awesome.  Funny that this is the context we reconnect in these days.  I never would have imagined it 14 years ago when we were teen line volunteers at Whatcom County Crisis Services (now Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Services).  Life is so funny!

NaBloPoMo Day 7: What's In a Name?

Well, I'm phoning it in a little bit today and using the writing prompt from BlogHer, and it's not a very deep one.  BUT it's day 7, which means I have made it through the first week and not failed yet!  So that's awesome.  I'm pretty excited at the thought of actually making it through the month, but I am also struggling with finding the right time of day to write my posts.  The last couple of days I've done it after the kids go to bed - way after in some cases - and then I am tired and have trouble thinking or being inspired.  If I could do it in between getting home and bedtime, while they are eating, that would work better!  I'm also going to try to do some brainstorming and outlining this weekend so I have some starts and ideas for days when I don't have immediate thoughts that come to mind.  Anyhow, here is the prompt:

If you had to switch your first name, what name would you choose and why?

Ah, the name change!  When I was younger, I couldn't wait to get married and change me last name.  It was never a question to me whether I would, and I loved doing it.  I've never thought of changing my first name, but if I changed it, I know what I'd choose:  Abigail.  That was the name that Justin and I picked out if we had a daughter, and it's just about my favorite girl name.  I might go by Abby, or I might go by Abigail.  There is just something special about it to me.

There is also an interesting story about this name (see, writing prompts work!).  When I was in 4th and 5th grade I had a best friend named Rachele Davison.  Yes, we were both Rachael D, just different spellings of the first name.  We were so close, and did everything together.  After we moved to Washington after 5th grade we wrote letters to each other and she even flew out to visit once!  I remember when she was here we baked a cake and put a disgusting amount of icing on it.  Well, we lost touch for a while, but thanks to Facebook (it really is awesomely amazing sometimes) we reconnected.  And I found out that she has a daughter named Abigail.  We chose the same name for our daughters, I just didn't get to use it.  I also found out that she has a trinity knot tattoo that is pretty similar to mine.  Life is funny sometimes.  I am hoping that someday I will have the money to fly back to Michigan, see the places I lived when I was little, and reconnect with her and meet her kids.  It would be amazing.

To Sam On Birthday Number Six

At the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival two days before turning six.

Dear Sam,

Lately, you have not been listening to your CD at bedtime and you've been asking me to sing to you again.  Most nights, you say you're not tired even though you've been yawning for an hour and I can tell that you need to sleep.  When I carry you to bed, you are heavy in my arms and I can't believe how big you've gotten.  You're still skinny, but not as much as you used to be.  I lay next to you with my arm around you and sing you The House at Pooh Corner and I've Got Six-pence and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star - the songs you call 'bedtime songs.'  As I sing I listen to your breathing and it often takes only a song or two before I can tell you've drifted off.

One day maybe you will have children and you'll be able to understand the love I feel for you.  It's so big that I can barely wrap my head around it, and I struggle to find the words to even convey it.  I am so proud of you.  Every time you sound out a word, I am fascinated and amazed.  When you write words on paper, I am left reeling at how much difference just a few months of school has made.  When you help your brother with something he's struggling with, my heart grows five sizes thinking about how amazing you are.  You are such a nice person.

Sam took Danny to school for 'share day'

Sometimes I get this feeling that I don't even know how to describe.  It happened last week when you called me while Daddy and I were out.  You called me from Grandma's phone to tell me to have a fun date night with Daddy.  It was unbearably cute, and after we hung up it happened.  I don't want to describe it as a sadness, because I was happy to be having grown up time.  But it is almost like I felt disappointed to be so far away from you.  I need my time to myself, but sometimes when I think about you a part of me wishes I was with you and wonders what you are doing at that moment.

There is so much about you that I never want to forget.  The way your freckles spread across the apples of your cheeks.  The chips in your two front teeth.  The way you count and then tell me I don't understand what a second is when I tell you to "just wait a second," even though it's irritating too.  The way you share with your brother even though he doesn't understand how to share with you just yet.  The way you play with the other kids, and give your friendship so freely.  You are so full of love and every kid has their moments, but your joy outshines anything darker almost all the time.

Building animorphs at the zoo with Aunt Kira

You are my first baby, and you will always be my baby, even though you are six and started walking in to school by yourself a couple of weeks ago.  I watch you dilly dally as you walk into the building with your Mario backpack and you look so big and so small at the same time.  I don't think it will ever change.

Happy Birthday Sam.  You are amazing.

Love,
Mama

Some Favorites at Six

TV - Octonauts, Adventure Time & My Little Pony
Food - Pizza, Chicken Nuggets, Macaroni & Cheese, Vanilla Ice Cream
Games - Kirby's Epic Yarn, Kirby's Return to Dreamland, Rayman Origins
Books - Scaredy Squirrel
Clothes - Mario shirts, pants without buttons (no jeans!)
Activities - Playing at the park after school, drawing
Future Wife - Either your babysitter Noelle or your friend Ruthie

Sam and Baby Powder

I just found some random photos on my computer while looking at new photos.  I am WAY behind on photo processing, I have probably a thousand photos that I haven't done anything with or archived.  ARGH!  BUT, I came across these photos from May of 2009.  Sam had just turned three and got a container of baby powder.

The best part is that Justin and I were both RIGHT THERE.  I was laying on the couch with my eyes closed, and Justin was sitting at the computer 2 feet away with his back turned.

In an alternate universe, I am married to Alec Baldwin

“I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?”-John Lennon

On Wednesday night, I dreamed that I was engaged to Alec Baldwin. In the dream, we were the same age, and it seemed like maybe instead of being an actor he was a wealthy socialite.  He proposed to me with an enormous sapphire and diamond ring, and later as I walked alone back to the penthouse suite at the hotel we were staying in, I thought about ordering a martini from room service.  And I felt it.  In my heart, pure joy.  I knew in that moment that I was getting everything I'd ever wanted, my dreams were coming true, and my life was as near to perfect as it could get.  I was so happy.

In the end, the content of the dream is inconsequential.  I've never even had a daydream about Alec Baldwin or wished for a life without kids.  But the feelings...

I am an intense dreamer.  It's been this way for a long time, and it probably always will be.  When I have a dream, I feel it, and it feels so real. When I wake, I remember it.  I don't always remember every dream, but the ones I do... they can dictate my mood, my feelings, how I get through the next few hours or even days of my real life.  I am often left with this intense nostalgia and longing after I dream, a feeling that I can't seem to shake.  Even when I only remember bits and pieces, I can feel them inside me, and a part of me longs to bring them back.

Nine years later, I dream of a boy I used to know, one of my true friends in life, and I feel the loss of him like he had died.  Ten years later, I still dream about people I used to work with and wake up missing them so much it feels like my heart is breaking.  I rarely have nightmares, but when I do they are so real they can leave me in tears for a whole day, or more.

Yesterday morning, I awoke with the feeling that I was going to have the life I'd always wanted, and then it was gone.

It stuck with me all day.  In my head, it feels completely ridiculous.  I love my friends, my family, my children.  I don't wish this life away, and even if I did, realistically this crazy dream life is just that, CRAZY.  But the feeling in my heart, or my gut, was so real that it stuck with me all day long, and gave me this weird nostalgic melancholy.  Thursday evening I found myself in my car holding back tears as I drove my husband to the ER.

Not only do I not have the dream life, but in my real life I am driving my husband to the ER for a badly sprained foot that looked so bad when he took his sock off that for several minutes I was completely convinced it was broken.  In my real life I hadn't had dinner, I was going to go over my points for the day, I gained weight last week and am having a really hard time not just eating everything I can see, I'm overweight and far from perfect or beautiful.  I have two kids who had exhausted me, a 21 month old who was completely fussy and cried as I left him with my Mom to hop in the car.  

I felt overwhelmed and sad and on top of it all incredibly silly for letting something so trivial and so far from reality influence my day at all.  The past year has been really, really hard.  Some days, it's overwhelming.  It's true that right now, while parts of my life ARE what I've always wanted, other parts are far from it.  It's something that I'm working on, and most days I have hope that this year will end on a higher note than the last - well, in a whole other octave really.  I guess when I sleep and my inhibitions are gone and I don't have to be anything for anybody else, my mind purges the feelings.

Sometimes, I wish that I did not dream like this.  When I have a good dream, I often think about it for hours after I'm awake, closing my eyes and letting the feelings was over me, holding on to the memories of it as they slowly slip away back into the ether from whence they came.  When I have the rare bad dream, I want it to go so badly, but it sticks with me and makes me feel like I'm losing control of my own mind.

In the end, I can't control it.  I've never been a lucid dreamer, and my mind needs to work out what it needs to work out.  Maybe there are just feelings inside me that need to be felt, and I'm not in a place where I can feel them for what they are, so I feel them through the untruths of my dreams.  I don't love this longing for something that I'm left with, but I try to accept that it just means that I'm processing the things that need to be processed and maybe that's the only answer I need.

"Dreams are symbolic in order that they cannot be understood; in order that the wish, which is the source of the dream, may remain unknown."- Carl Jung

How do you dream?

2011 - The List

This list has been popping up on a lot of blogs I read, and I do love lists, so I thought I'd do it too. I really like the idea of having a list of the same questions and answering it every year around the same day. It's fun to have a little snapshot to look at and compare from year to year.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

Walked my son into an elementary school classroom, flew cross country with 2 kids who could both walk (or run away from me) and survived, stayed with my 12 year old sister & my 2 boys for 2 weeks by myself, worried about a friend who has cancer, saw Les Miserables, said goodbye to a place that meant a lot to me.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? 

Last year, I resolved to: Lose 70 pounds and run a 5K, Learn how to take great photos on purpose, Improve my marriage, Write more, Read 50 books, Write letters to everyone I love and Learn to use a budget - seriously, for real.

I achieved exactly ONE of these.  I read 50 books.  2011 was not a great year, and a lot of the time I was trying to just keep going and not thinking about these extras on top of it.  I have made goals for 2012 - some similar, some different.  I'll post those soon.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Not that I remember!

4. Did anyone close to you die? 

No.

5. What countries did you visit? 

None.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011? 

More time to myself (probably do-able thanks to my awesome Mom), a lot more photos (especially of the kids).

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? 

Christmas Eve.  

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? 

I don't feel like I achieved much, honestly.  My biggest achievement was getting through it.

9. What was your biggest failure? 

How do I choose?  I feel like there were a lot of failures this year.  My biggest one...not being able to be there completely for my kids during the times when I was struggling.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? 

No.

11. What was the best thing you bought? 

Well, Justin bought it for me, but my Nook Color.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? 

My little sister.  She turned 13 in September, and during the two weeks I spent with her over the summer, she really impressed me.  She has a good head on her shoulders and was really helpful with the boys while we were there.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? 

Hmm...no comment.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Rent, medical bills, moving, living expenses.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? 

Weekend trip to Seattle with Justin to see Les Miserables in August.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011? 

Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?

Sadder, fatter, maybe a bit richer, but not much.  I'm working on all 3.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? 

Made time for each of us to spend time with Sam without Danny, worked on my novel, learned more about my camera, taken more photos.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? 

Fought, eaten, been angry, procrastinated.

20. How did you spend Christmas? 

At home with my sister and her boyfriend in the morning, then just the family in the afternoon/evening.  It was a very low-key year.

21. Did you fall in love with 2011? 

No.

22. What was your favorite TV program? 

Really, just one?  I can't choose.  Supernatural, The Walking Dead, American Horror Story, Grimm

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? 

No.

24. What was the best book you read?

Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Les Miserables

26. What did you want and get?

A telephoto lens, new shelves for the living room, a new house (rental), a day off each week (thanks Mom!), a new phone, a Nook Color.

27. What did you want and not get?

Peace.

28. What was your favorite film of 2011?

Hanna, Super 8, X-Men: First Class or The Muppets.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 31 in 2011.  I spent a weekend in Seattle, Friday night went out to dinner and to see "Breaking Dawn" with 9 friends, then spent time alone reading & wandering around on Saturday then spent the night at my sister's house and helped decorate the tree and helped her and her boyfriend plan their trip to Hawaii.  Sunday I spent some time alone then went to my best friend's daughter's birthday party.


31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of 2011?

If it fits, wear it.  Wish it fit better.  Add bling.

32. What kept you sane?

Booze.  Just kidding.  My Mom.  Hope.  Faith.

33. What political issue stirred you the most?

Occupy Wall Street

34. Who did you miss?

My friends in Seattle, especially Brooke.  Justin.  My sisters and my stepmom.

35. Who was the best new person you met?

The women in my Bunco group & my book club's newest member, Carrie.

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.

Anything can happen.  Just because you think you know how to do something right doesn't mean you won't screw it up, and then find yourself wondering how the hell you ended up there.  

37. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

"I feel just like I’m sinking,
And I claw for solid ground,
I’m pulled down by the undertow,
I never thought I could feel so low,
And oh darkness I feel like letting go.

If all the of the strength and all of the courage,
Come and lift me from this place,
I know I can love you much better than this,
Full of grace, Full of grace, My love."

- Full of Grace by Sarah McLachlan

Goodbye, Borders

Ironically, I heard the news from the Barnes & Noble bookseller who was gift-wrapping a purchase for me. Borders Books would be no more. Friday July 22, 2011 would mark the beginning of the end for 399 stores and over 10,000 employees as the sales begin and the inventory is liquidated.

I don't know that I was shocked, but on the way home in the car, I found myself teary-eyed for the dying book giant. I worked at Borders for three years while I was in college and after I graduated, and even though I felt totally silly shedding a tear for a retail store, I later told Justin it kind of felt like an old boss died.

I've worked for several companies in my short career, and my time at Borders was absolutely my favorite job. As a book lover, going to a place where I could be surrounded by them all day (and get a pretty awesome employee discount) was awesome. I also met my best friend there, and my co-workers WERE my friends - I got to go to work and hang out with them every day.

I worked as a cashier and a seller. I worked on the special process team doing inventory, periodicals, pulling books to be sent back to various places, processing defective and damaged merchandising and unpacking and sorting hundreds of boxes of books. I worked in the children's section arranging oddly sized books and grumbling internally about the crazy mess, but loving the picture books I discovered while shelving. I ended up as a cafe supervisor, got great experience with ordering and supervising and opening and closing the three story bookstore in Bellevue Square.

It's been 8 years since I worked at Borders - it's hard for me to believe it's been so long. I've had two kids, moved a few times, and watched from afar on Facebook as my old friends have moved around and gotten married. I often wish that I could still be as close with some of them as I was back then, but distance and circumstance and just being in different places in life has carried us away from each other. I still miss them.

The ones I do keep in contact with regularly, I enjoy. I'm so happy that these people were brought into my life. As for my best friend, I will never, ever forget the times we had together laughing in the sort room and all of that lead to the friendship we have today.

I've been a Borders girl for years. I've shopped at Barnes and Noble recently due to the fact that we didn't have a Borders here in Bellingham. I'm going to miss it.

I miss my friends.

Sometimes, I forget. But then something happens, and it comes to a head inside me. This aching, longing pain of missing my friends.

My best friend forgot to invite me to her son's birthday party.

It's not as big a deal as it may sound on her part. I wasn't mad at her at all, we both have hectic lives, she has 3 kids and we just don't see each other that often. We talked about it last time I saw her and she told me where it was going to be, they just hadn't decided on a time yet. When I checked with her about whether she was attending another friend's birthday party, she replied that they were scheduled at the same time and she forgot to email me about it. It's not a big deal.

Except. I know that if I saw her more often, she would have told me. If I still lived close, and we still hung out a couple of times a week, it would have come up in conversation. As it is now, I see her once a month if I'm lucky. When I read her email, it broke my heart a little. Not because of the fact that it happened, but because it just reinforces this feeling I've had lately that I'm missing out on my best friends' lives.

When I was in high school, I had a group of three girlfriends. We were very close, and hung out together a lot. In the years following, we changed and moved, but remained friends. After a falling out, we stopped all spending time together, but I remained close to all three of them individually. Now, one is in Seattle - I saw her a month ago. We had coffee and sat together and talked as if no time had passed. It felt good, but also made me wish that we were both better at getting together more often. One is in Portland and has twins the same age as Sam and another one who I've only met once. The third just moved to California. I'd like to visit her there, but with two kids and a tight budget, who knows if it will be possible.

I imagine if we all lived near each other. Maybe old wounds could be patched. Maybe not. Regardless, I could spend time with these women who mean so much to me. I could have a relationship with the children of one of my best friends. I miss them so much.

When I lived in Seattle, I established a wonderful group of friends. My best friend was one of the women in this group of my closest friends. I would go to a movie with her once a week, and we would hang out during the days. There were play dates where I could take the kids to play and we mothers would stay connected and where my sense of community was fulfilled.

With my best friend in particular, I can pick up where I left off. When I get to see her, it's like a breath of fresh air. But I miss her. Even after we moved to Bellingham, I used to go down to Seattle once a week for work and would stay at her house and hang out with her. It was the best of both worlds - living close to my Mom and staying connected to her. Eventually, the job ended, but I would still go down and visit. Now though, with two kids? It's so much harder to get down there. And I am afraid that I'll lose her. There is nothing in the world that could keep me from seeing her as often as possible. If I describe Justin as my heartmate, I would describe her as my friend soulmate. The thought of losing that connection makes me feel sick.

I admit that I am jealous. She is still a part of this community that I am now looking at from the outside. Our old church, our small group, and friends she introduced me to or that we met through book club who I don't get to see as often. She has another friend she goes to the movies with every week now. I am so happy that she has that, and I actually really like this other woman. I just wish I was there too.

I get to go down once a month for book club, and it rejuvenates me, it re-energizes my soul. It's like a fog lifts and I feel amazing after seeing this group of women who have been through so much together. Maybe I should just feel lucky I get to see them that often.

When I first moved back to Bellingham three years ago, I joined a local Moms Group through Meetup.com. It was a lifesaver, and I don't know what I would have done without it. For a long time, I hung out with the women in it and felt I'd made friends. There were play dates at least once a week, and much-needed monthly moms nights out. Somehow, it faded. Ever since a bunch of us got pregnant with second kids, I don't see them anymore. The meetup group has become all but defunct.

I don't know if everyone stopped doing things, or if I am just left out of privately arranged play dates now. There's one woman I really like who I will see this week and am going to make more of an effort to hang out with. But the bottom line is that for the past 9 months I have felt disconnected.

I miss my friends. I feel stubborn because I just want my Seattle friends. I don't want to find a whole new community to invest my heart in up here if it's just going to ebb like it did the last time. I miss my best friend, her kids, her husband. I miss sharing stories with my friend whose son's favorite shows are about woodworking and who wants to know everything about the world. I miss hanging out for hours on end and having something to do during the days. I miss having girls nights out with my closest confidantes - letting off steam, confiding in each other, and supporting each other.

I don't know that there's a solution. I would like to be able to get down to Seattle more. During the summer, I'll be able to go down with both kids to spend days and do outings with my friends. And it just has to be enough. I just wish there was another way.

For now, I just sit here and the pain in my heart is palpable. I try not to think about how I'm feeling this loss, because when I do it bring tears to my eyes.

The Myth of the Grown-Up

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.

As I got older, I imagined what it would like to be a grown up. Though the perks we envision morph as we grow, there are always perks imagined.

Four.

When I grow up, I won't have to eat my vegetables. I'll eat cookies for dinner!

Eight.

When I grow up, I will be able to watch whatever TV shows I want to!

Twelve.

When I grow up, I won't have to do chores for my allowance, and will be able to buy new clothes whenever I want to.

Sixteen.

When I grow up, I'll have my OWN car, and I'll drive wherever I want, whenever I want to.

Seventeen.

When I'm eighteen, I'll be a grown up. I'll be in charge of myself, I'll do what I want, eat what I want, hang out with who I want.

Then eighteen comes.

For me, this meant my first place, my first real job with real pay and benefits. My first car, bought with my own money. I was growing up, but I didn't feel like a grown up, so I just waited.

Nineteen arrived, along with my first live in boyfriend.

At twenty, he became a fiance.

At twenty-one, I earned a college degree. How grown up is that? And I waited for the feeling to come, but it never seemed to.

Twenty-two.

I become a wife.

Twenty-three.

My husband and I own our first real estate - a condo that we end up making money on, and paying off debt. Grown-upapalooza, right? But I'm still not feeling it.

Twenty-five.

After two years, the child we've been longing for finally arrives. I am a mother. Shouldn't I feel more like a grown up?

Twenty-seven.

The way we lived catches up with us. I am glad I'm so young when I learn the hard lessons bankruptcy brings with it. We have plenty of time to recover, to make better decisions. Grown up decisions I guess.

Twenty-nine.

Our second baby is born, and he is beautiful. I find myself wondering how I have two kids when I feel like a kid myself a lot of the time.

Thirty.

I keep waiting for that moment when I will suddenly feel like a grown-up.

It has taken me over 12 years to realize that it's never coming.

One day, I asked my Mom about being a grown up. She is 51, with 2 kids and 3 marriages under her belt. She has dealt with her childhood, watched her children become grown, and finally found the person she is supposed to be with. She still does not feel like a grown-up.

That's when I realize, it's a total myth! The myth of the grown-up.

Where did this myth come from? Grown-ups exist, but they are always the generation above us. As children, we dream that one day we will see ourselves as grown-ups, but now I realize that this isn't true. Our children will see us as grown-ups. Maybe my 12 year old sister thinks I am a grown-up. But to myself? I don't think I'll ever feel any more grown up than I do now.

I think I will always have those moments where I am astounded that I am leading some sort of adult life - that I am a mother and a wife and live in a house and cook and clean and grow older. I will always feel like I did when I was a kid, because it's just... ME. We age, and we change, we live and we learn and adapt. But I don't think I'll ever feel like a grown-up deep inside.

What about you? Do you feel like a grown-up?

30 Days of Truth Day 9: What We Were

The prompt for Day 9 of 30 Days of Truth is "Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted."

We met and became instant friends. We played in the woods, making up complicated new lives and personalities that were ours alone. I admired the toe shoes that hung in your bedroom. We would eat rye toast with butter as an after school snack, there were not many sweets in your house. We picked blackberries and sung duets.

We once laughed ourselves to tears in the back of the classroom when I asked "what do they call a trombone player anyways, a tromboner?" You probably didn't know that I was in love with you. We went on a date once, at least it was to me. You probably didn't know that afterwards, I dedicated a song to you on the radio. I cried the night of high school graduation at the thought that I would probably never see you again.

We watched Remington Steele and Mission Impossible and ate egg sandwiches on our lunch break. My first job was with you. We danced under a streetlight at midnight as fluffy snowflakes piled up around us. We would ride the bus to the mall and watch movies on the weekends. I was with you when I dyed my hair for the first time.

We worked so well as a team, the highs were high and the lows were really painful. We would laugh until our mouths were frozen in silent guffaws, and more than once I'm sure I cried over fights we had. You refused to talk about what music you liked because people take their music too personally. Once you hung an awful poster with a photos of a fig that looked like genitalia because you knew I hate most Georgia O'Keefe paintings. We got drunk one night after work with our friends, and leaned on each other as we walked to the car. In the back seat, we held hands.

We used to walk to the comic book store on weekends. Once we each ate an entire tub of Ben & Jerry's while we watched the original La Femme Nikita. I tried pot for the first time with you. I was always jealous of your boyfriends, and at one point I developed a big crush on your brother.

We talked online every day for over a year, back when AOL was new and cool. You knew me better than anyone else in my life. I was either stupid or in denial not to know how much you liked me. Our friendship didn't translate to real life. I wish I'd tried harder.

For the other 29 days, click here.

My Awkward Family Photo - For Mrs. Chicken

So, today Mrs. Chicken of Chicken and Cheese posted a mullet-tastic photo of herself from the 80s. She needs a laugh. I feel much the same way she does - tons to write about, but I can't get started. I have indeed had a mullet myself, but I don't have any photos of it scanned in. Instead, this one's for you Mrs. Chicken - I really think it might be Awkward Family Photo worthy.



Okay, so maybe it's not THAT bad, after actually clicking over to the AFP website for a minute. But I'd like you to note my Mom & sister's weird celestial theme, the vest, my awful white sweater & WTF is up with that weird background? This was probably in 1994 when I was 14.

Ooh, I just remembered another one! When Justin and I had been together a year, we got photos done at Wal-Mart (dude, we were only 20) for Xmas. Here is the worst of the lot:



NOT my idea.

OMG, I just found this one. It's mullet-ish. I was in 7th grade.



Sigh...

Pulling on the Past - Pieces I Left Behind: Part 3

Last night, I had an intensely emotional dream. The kind of dream where the feelings and the heartbreak stick with you long after waking and invade an otherwise perfectly pleasant day. Hours later, I feel so raw that tears are pooling in my eyes. And the subject matter and the fact that I feel so ridiculous that it could still have such an effect on me just make it hurt more.

I dreamed about people I used to work with. Between 2001 and 2003 I worked in retail. It was by far the most fun job I've ever held. I was young, and it was my equivalent to the experience a lot of people have in college. I made good friends, we hung out, I lived in a new place and did new things. I lived with Justin, but he traveled a lot for work, and during the time he was gone I spent a lot of time at work and with my co-workers. I met my best friend there. I worked on a team for a while with people I considered my closest friends. It was fun.

I got involved with people. The boy who lived in the same apartment complex as me. We talked at work, chatted online, went to movies together, carpooled, and had lunches and dinners together. I helped him through times he was sick - physically and in his heart. The girl who would eventually become his wife, who I talked to on the phone in the freezing cold for an hour during one of his ridiculous breakups with her. The boy who worked on my team with my best friend and I, with his volatile personality and inability to talk about his feelings. The boy with the long hair who I developed a huge, pre-wedding jitters crush on.

These were people who were very central to my life during that time. People who I deeply cared for, and apparently still do. But it became very clear upon time passing after none of us worked together anymore that I was more invested than any of them. I guess I'm not surprised, it's not as if I'd never found myself in that position before. I tend to give my whole heart to people, and for some reason keep expecting them to give theirs in return.

This dream last night involved some of these people. There was fighting, screaming, crying, and rushes of all of these feelings and my desire to know why? Why didn't they care about me? Why don't they think about me still? When I dream about these people, or other friends I've lost, the feelings are intense and real, and still very close. Why don't I matter to them?

As if the dreams are not bad enough, I find myself pulling the past back into my life. Why do I do it? Read old emails? Peruse their photos on Facebook, watch them together and wish I was there too? Maybe I am just kidding myself in thinking that we were so close. Maybe I was just in too different a place, not fun enough... Maybe it's out of sight, out of mind.

I open my old email account because I'm trying to figure out where the hell E-bay is sending my forgotten password emails. I sort through the hundreds of junk messages in my inbox, keeping only about 10.

And somehow, I just can't help opening the folders. My old emails, still there.

I read, because I can't seem to help myself. I am taken back to the times when I supported people through their own moments of emotion and feeling so unsure. They are there, in words, people I don't see. People I was once close with and no longer speak to. And it tugs at my heart.

I am an internet voyeur and Facebook lets me in to their lives just enough. Just enough to keep that longing alive. To wish I'd been invited to their weddings. To feel a pang of ridiculous jealousy when they message each other, but never me. When I see them planning to hang out.

I find myself feeling hurt and completely ridiculous all at once. What is the point of this longing? Even if we'd stayed in touch, these are people who are not married, or just getting married. I am like an old maid - I am a stay at home mom with two kids. I don't work anymore, and I don't have the freedom to go out whenever I want. It makes me feel like my feelings are even more irrelevant. Yet, their intensity remains.

Would it be easier just to cut myself off completely? I know from other ended friendships that I would still wonder. I know that cutting myself off that way would not end the longing, or the wondering, or the pieces of my heart that I've left behind with these people. But perhaps the past would pull a little less hard.

Do you have lost friendships that you still feel pulling on your heart? People who you no longer see who hold pieces of your heart? How do you deal with it?

Somewhere the Grass is Greener

I don't get many e-mails from PR folks, and I tend to ignore them when I do. However, I've written before about the Fresh Air Fund, and I'm giving a little time to it again today because I think it's a pretty great opportunity for kids. What is the Fresh Air Fund?

THE FRESH AIR FUND, an independent, not-for-profit agency, has provided free summer vacations to more than 1.7 million New York City children from low-income communities since 1877. Nearly 10,000 New York City children enjoy free Fresh Air Fund programs annually. In 2008, close to 5,000 children visited volunteer host families in suburbs and small town communities across 13 states from Virginia to Maine and Canada. 3,000 children also attended five Fresh Air camps on a 2,300-acre site in Fishkill, New York. The Fund’s year-round camping program serves an additional 2,000 young people each year.

One of the reasons that Justin and I moved back to Bellingham was because Justin wanted Sam to have some of the experiences that he did as a child. To have a big yard, to have pets, to have woods to run around in. Fresh air, sunshine, room to run... these were all important to us. So, it breaks my heart a little bit to think about how many kids out there are waiting for their chance. They may not know what it's like to feel grass under their feet, or to explore nature.



The Fresh Air Fund is currently looking for host families for the summer of 2010. These are families who live in the suburbs or in small communities in the Northeastern US & Canada where children from New York City can experience something new and amazing. If you think you might be interested, click here for more information!

If you think you'd like to support the Fresh Air Fund, take a look at their website.

Pieces I Left Behind: Part 2

15 years after one of the weirdest moments of my life, I am wondering about you.

It's been so long since that summer before ninth grade when you tossed aside our friendship. I wonder if I talked to you now whether you'd admit how bizarre it was for you to tell me a tall tale about the baby you'd had with the boy you liked while I was out of state for the summer. Would you acknowledge that this was a strange way to end our friendship? That the fact that you mockingly stuck with this story you'd made up just for me throughout high school was absolutely weird?

Some days I think about emailing you. Not much to lose, but how could I deny that it's a little weird that I'm still thinking about this? How weird is that exactly? The why of this situation is one of the great mysteries of my life, and I wonder if you ever think of me.

The other night, I dreamed I was working with your father and that I was finally building up the nerve to ask him he he knew about what happened between us and if he may have any insight into my perpetual question of what happened there.

As with all dreams, I had to wake and this time to unsettling unanswered questions.

15 years later my memories of the 2 years we were inseparable best friends are mostly fond. Perhaps they still haunt me because I don't' think I'll ever know why you decided not to be my friend, why you chose to realign yourself and forget me. You'll probably never know how your decision affected me, and I don't know if you'd even care.

In the end, it's just another piece of my heart I left behind, a piece I gave to someone and now I live without it. Maybe you still have it, maybe not. 15 years later, does it matter?

Teen Angst

Remember when I started that new series, Teen Angst, back in August? Then I didn't ever post again? Well, the baby sickness is calming down (thank the Lord!) and I'm back. So, here we go...

11-27-98 (18 years old)

I wanted to be alone. Actually my real feeling was that I desperately needed to be alone and I couldn't help that feeling. Stuarts* seemed like a good place to be alone. I'm sad. I don't know I guess it could be the holiday season upon us once again and I guess I can't help recalling how I was feeling last year at Christmastime. Right now I can feel that my self esteem is low and that I do not feel like my usual happy, giving self. It's like the best way to describe it is bummed but oh it seems much more profound** than just that. I've been having dreams about someone holding me in his arms. So, I've grown used to this gnawing loneliness that I've carried for so long but it seems that in the past couple of days it just can't stay down and it is gnawing at me. I want to cry so much I feel all bottled up inside and I'm not sure why. I feel awful about the whole situation with Garrett*** which perhaps in the future will seem trivial, but at this moment I only feel that what I did was wrong. Then there's Dad. I seriously am doubting that I'll be able to get time off to go back to Philly for Christmas. I don't' know how I feel about that. And no matter how much deep seeded anger I have in me for Dad, I still miss him and especially if I don't' go for Christmas that will be the longest time I've gone without seeing him. I can't help wising that he cared more.**** I guess that's all I ever wanted and it's just never happened. Is that so much to ask? I don't want to deal with anything and suddenly I feel I have to deal with everything all at once. I don't even see why all this matters, because what do our lives amount to if we are not happy? We just end up moping around taking up everybody else's space for no good reason. I don't really know what my motivation is right now. Don't get me wrong, this certainly isn't any kind of suicidal feeling. It's just some kind of profound unhappiness. I feel I'm just going through the motions and can't be sure where they're taking me next. Maybe I don't even care either. Okay, so let's be honest here. I know that the real reason I cam to Stuart's was because I was hoping I'd run into Garrett here. I mean, it is true I just wanted to be alone (or more accurately, left alone), but when he wasn't home when I called this morning all I could think about was seeing him. It's all I've been able to think about at least since yesterday morning. I don't even know if he's worth all of this thought or not. I almost wish I hadn't come on Monday night and hadn't seen K hanging all over him. I almost wish that I hadn't left that message on his answering machine. But wishing never got me anywhere, did it? If there was a god, if I knew what I believed, I would ask him to give me strength now, I'd rather not spend my time feeling this way or feeling that all I want more than anything is a sweet caress, is to be held and that my strong want (need) for this makes the joy of anything else acquired much dimmer in my heart. So where will I end up? Maybe I'll end up an unhappy overweight addicted to nicotine lonely single old woman. What do you think? I share my every thought with you, wish you were able to give me an answer, I am sure that you would know what would make me happy. And I am sure you would know how I could make myself a better person and to improve my life and the lives of those around me. I play the fool, falling too hard too soon, able to over analyze every situation I get into, every move that is made, every person I meet and every breath of air and word spoken by said person. Able to see life as a silhouette of happiness. Wishing for the shadows of my doubt to disappear. And when I look back at this journal entry will it just be one long cliche to me***** will I have been writing in clips and phrases of what I have already experienced? Or will I have been profound and poetic without even trying in this caffeine heightened state of awareness as my mind outruns my hand and I try to keep up my words turning into unintelligible scrawls? Remembering that writing is a rush for me, the adrenaline flowing through my veins tells me that I feel the words I put down and that there is nothing, nothing in this world that I would trade for a life of being able to write down my thoughts, my feelings and anything to evoke emotion and response in another person****** That there is no praise greater to me than to be praised for my writing as I say thank you with a cramp in my hand and a smile on my face. That there is no better feeling than to page through a book of my work and to know that these are my accomplishments and they belong to no one else but may be shared by all. And that I must let no negative thoughts, no negative feelings, no rejections and no reflections turn me away from this art that they call poetry or prose or some people call shit but I would never agree because these are my sentiments. And that this exercise of my mind has got my heart pounding, my blood flowing hot and my breath coming short as adrenaline pulls pulls pulls feelings and emotions from deep within me flowing down my tired arm into the ink that I guide onto the paper. Thinking of a famous authors thoughts on writing and wondering one day these will too be published on an anthology called authors of the 20th century discuss the art of writing******* or some such thing. And wondering if anyone in this friendly, awake coffee house has noticed my frantic scrawling and the change of my demeanor from sad to nothing but emotional flow a hard concentration and the movement of my lips to the words I am now writing. And if someone was to notice these things or the way I pause to take the knots out of my cramped hand would they wonder what I was writing about?

And that's how I feel.

* Stuart's was an amazingly awesome coffee shop that used to be in downtown Bellingham. It still exists in a different form in our Public Market, but it's not the same. It was my second home when I was 16-19, I hung out there constantly.

** Profound? Really? I like how many times I wrote profound in this entry.

*** Garrett was the guy who ran the weekly poetry night at Stuart's. I had a brief and strange sort of flingish relationship with him. It ended with us talking and me saying 'you play games', his reply 'i know', and my retort 'don't play games with me, or I won't be your friend'. I know he wouldn't mind me using his name here because he'd probably think this was pretty hysterical. I think I'm friends with him on My Space now.

**** I had a lot of issues with my relationship with my Dad, I rest assured now that he totally did care and I love him a lot.

***** Um, probably the cliche thing. Yeah.

****** I wanted to be a writer then, and I still do. If I could make a living off writing, it would be a dream for me.

******* Seriously? This drivel in some kind of anthology about thoughts on writing? No. Just. No.

I chose this one for several reasons. It's almost a perfect sample of something written at that time in my life. I wrote this 4 days after my 18th birthday. I love the embarrassing cliche of it (my favorites are in red), but I also love that even re-typing this I could feel that rush I used to get from writing. I write here because I still love the feeling I get when I am putting words down and something comes to me and makes me feel. I still share my writing because I want it to mean something, and I still want to write a book someday. I wrote this sitting in my favorite coffee shop, I used to go there several times a week and write in my journal, write poetry, and mingle with the other regulars. That was my culture then, it was me. I also see looking back many journal entries where I talk about being sad - I wish I'd known then about depression and that it didn't have to be that way. But I also love what I see here - this outlet I had where I started writing down and in true 'teen angst' and ended on a high, invigorated and ready to go on.

Pieces I Left Behind; Part 1

9 years later, I awake one morning to memories of the heartbreakingly real dream you just appeared in.

It's so mysterious to me the way the mind works. I am happy and have a wonderful life. Yet in my dreams and sometimes in waking I see ghosts and I know that somewhere out there, lives go on without me, pieces of my heart I left behind trailing unnoticed in their shadows.

To say I miss you wouldn't be quite accurate. I Loved the time we spent together. The way you made me feel, the friendship and security and honesty of it all. I suppose my heart thinks it might somehow regain those feelings. But my mind knows that the likelihood of there being any place for you in my life now is slim.

You are a vagabond, perpetually moving and society's standards fit you like a wooly, uncomfortable cloak, trying to hang on and failing. I am a pregnant homemaker with a family and a certain future. If we met on the street as I've imagined time and time again, what would you even see in me aside from an overweight breeder you used to know when we were young? In the midst of my probably unrequited fondness for you, what would we even say?

But despite all this, I still dream about you. In my slumber I break your heart in an unavoidable choice between our friendship and my husband, who I know is my almost perfect mate. How arrogant to dream that I have broken you.

I still look, having glanced and seen you twice this year, my eyes scan for you every time I drive downtown. I look, despite knowing that if I saw you I wouldn't stop.

9 years later I carry you with me because I don't know how to let go, my subconscious holds on without explanation and I dream.

Behind the Library

This is the first installment of a new series I've decided to write. I have tons of old journals, letters, and a shoebox full of notes from when I was in high school, and I've decided to share my ridiculous young self with all of you. If anyone out there wants to join me, I'd be happy to read all your embarrassing stuff too. I still need a good name for this series so I can make a little graphic. If you have one for me, let me know. If I choose your suggestion, I'll send you a prize. So... here we go!

2-7-98 (17 yrs old)

So here I am, sitting behind the library because I had to take Kira to tap again. It's warm and sunny, at least that's a nice change. Well, Thomas and I have been having some really nice conversations lately and I've been thinking about him a lot. I'm lucky to have him as a friend. I had a realization the other day. Gosh, maybe I'll just start with Monday. I spent the night at Sati's on Monday, she had told me before that R & L broke up. Well, on Sunday she had gotten stoned with Sarah & Allison and both of them had asked Sati if me and R were gonna hook up, so I guess others noticed what went on at the party too*. So I told Sati I would like that but I'd figured it'd never happen. So she said, well why don't you just call him and ask him to do something? Well, anyhow, she ended up calling him for me** on Wednesday night and it's a real bummer, him & L are working things out. I guess it's good for them, but they seem so wrong for each other.*** Anyhow, on Wed night I talked to Kevin for a long time and I ended up telling him how I felt. Because for some reason I told him I didn't think he knew how much I cared for him. He asked and so I told him that he was everything, how I'd thought he was the one I'd be with for a long time, how he was my every breath & that Leanne Rimes song was really how I felt. He said he didn't know I felt that way. How the fuck did he think I felt? I mean, Jesus. I loved him.**** I'd do almost anything to have him back, but he's got a new girlfriend now. Her name is K and I guess she goes to WCC, I don't know how they met but I wonder. now. Now I can understand why it's so fuckin' hard for Sam to talk to me. Damn, I can hardly talk to Kev w/out wanting to say how I feel or ask questions about her. So I guess I can't blame Sam.***** Speaking of whom, I realized on Wednesday what a jerk I'd been to him and after I went to the court to observe w/Sati on Thursday I drove over to the college to talk to him. So I apologized. I didn't realize my hands were shaking until he pointed it out to me. I told him how sorry I was, that he was right all along and that I should have left him alone the first time he asked me to & that if he didn't want to talk anymore that I understood & I'd respect that. So he didn't really say anything about talking so I assume he doesn't want to. But he gave me a hug & forgave me so the thing I regret now is losing a great guy as a friend. So I did something last weekend I said I'd never do. Me & Sati took a pack of cigarettes from work. Theyw ere all gone by Tuesday. I just wanted to so bad & it was good. I got a pack of herbals b/c I said I didn't want to smoke regular ones all the time, but I decided I would just not smoke except like at parties or if I get really upset or something. There's not really any point to smoking herbals anyhow, it's no effect. So I finally did it. I also got a haircut & dyed my hair on Friday, it's like orange. It's not permanent but I think I'm gonna dye it permanent when this stuff washes out. I got a lot of compliments on it. Well, Sati's mom is going out of town from Feb 26-Mar 7 and I'm gonna stay at her house some of the time, Mom & Rob are making me come home one night, but oh well. We (me & Sati) are having a party & I know R & A & J & S & A & maybe L & E & her roommate are gonna be invited. It's gonna be lots of fun. I can't wait. Kira's going to North Dakota over Feb break. THat'll be weird to not have her around for a week. Sati's been talking a lot about moving out lately and I wish so much I could move out with her soon. Next time I get paid I'm gonna get another earring. I met a really nice guy named Noah in English & I had an excuse to ask for his phone # but I ended up not calling him. He works at Costco & I'm not sure how old he is anyhow. Well, I guess that's all for now.

Later,
Rachael

*What 'happened at the party' was basically hand-holding. I know, super risque!
**Remember when you used to get your friends to call dates for you? Hilarious.
***R&L are now happily married w/2 little kids.
****No, no I didn't. I thought I did, but seriously? No.
*****This was the Sam that my son is partially named after. After that day I didn't talk to him for about a year when he contacted me days before his suicide.

Now, tell me about something this made you remember in the comments!

A Summer Memory

This week's theme for Heads or Tails Tuesday is "Summertime Memory". I originally posted this in September of last year, and it brings up really great memories for me, so I'm re-posting it today to share with you!

***

Summer in a Small Town

You see amazing things every day. In small town America I sit in the backyard listening to the music of cicadas in the trees. The first night, their song is surprising, forgotten during the time away from this home, and unexpected. Later, the sound is comfort, lulling me into peaceful, quiet meditation in the backyard twilight as I wait to walk the one block into town.

We walk down Main Street, peering in shop windows of stores as versatile as snowflakes. A coffee shop, a comic book store, the local newsstand, The Shaker Cafe, where they make delicious nachos every Friday with weekly Mexican meals. A bagel shop has just opened up in town, and I had a fresh bagel for breakfast this morning. As we walk past the old Union Hotel restaurant, we begin to hear the music.

Every other Thursday night in this small town in New Jersey, they have Music on Main. A block or two of the street is barricaded off and a stage is set up. The blacktop is spotted with tables dressed in flowing white tablecloths surrounded by folding chairs. The music has already started and the tables are full with people talking, laughing and sharing wine and food.

I'm not from here, but I feel welcome. As I sit at the table with one of the other town moms, her hug welcomes me as if I've been here forever. I don't talk much. Instead, I sit and listen to the cover band play, I watch the local kids and less shy women and men dance on the cleared out area in front of the stage. I have a hard time keeping my eyes off of her in her red sparkling halter top. She has already been pointed out to me as the heavy drinker at these events. Her shirt reminds me of an Olympic gymnastics leotard. Her eyes are partially shut as she weaves back and forth, and she claps and hollers at the end of every song.

She is joined by a woman from a few doors down. She too is drunk, perhaps forgetting the worries of how her husband left her with her children, how she doesn't have a job. Not caring where her children are - I saw her 9 year old daughter riding her scooter around town earlier by herself. Tonight she has no idea that in a few days, CPS will be called on her for leaving her daughter home alone overnight. She is dancing, oblivious. I've been here for only a week, but I've already heard these stories. Later, as the two women dance together, the one in the red shirt stumbles drunkenly and bowls over a group of pre-teen girls.

Halfway through the night it begins to rain, but it's a warm rain, something I rarely experience at home in Washington. I expect people to leave, but most of us just sit at our tables as the drops gently fall from the sky and cascade down our bare arms and legs. In minutes, it is over and the warmth of the night dries our skin. The show goes on.

Only a few songs left, I am lost in my own world, my own thoughts. The music eliminates the need to talk and I sit, observing, enjoying, breathing it all in. I notice a man on the sidewalk in a t-shirt and white backpack. He plays a harmonica along with the band, and the way he dances is childlike. Something is off, and I wonder what his story is. Does he think like a child, or an adult? Who takes care of him? As I watch, a young looking twenty-something breaks from the dancefloor to approach him with her male friend. They talk to him and invite him to dance. He declines, and they persist. After he says no again, they fade back into the dance, but my eyes tickle with tears at this act of kindness. It is a beautiful night.

***

To read more Heads or Tails Summer Memories, click here.

My 'Where the Wild Things Are"

So, it's been all over the internet since the day it was released - people are really excited about the trailer for the new movie based on Maurice Sendak's book "Where the Wild Things Are". People posted that they were absolutely in love with it, and that the preview made them cry. I saw the trailer at the theater, and I thought it looked pretty good, but I didn't get all crazy over it. But then, two previews later....



"Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs"? Only my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE children's books. I watched the trailer, and I'd heard they were doing a movie, but when I realized what it was I gasped in my breath and got SO excited. I so can't wait to see this movie! Also, I just looked at IMDB and it has the voices of Bruce Cambpell, Mr. T and Tracy Morgan. Score.

What is your favorite kids book? What storybook would you love to see made into a movie?