Birfdays

Remember how I told you guys that I took an impromptu trip? It was for my bff's 40th birthday party! She's the one I wrote about licking slugs. Even though I'm going back to Oregon for a long visit in three days, I just couldn't miss her party. So glad I didn't. There is nothing like backyard dancing to the same Michael Jackson songs over and over at 2 a.m. with your best girlyfriends (and a couple brave guys). Life is just too short not to be there.

According to my birthday counter, I am now 63 days away from "the big day." Between my flying and money anxieties, I have almost talked myself out of doing anything. Almost. My mom was actually the one who pushed me over the edge of not letting that happen. She said something complex like "oh, c'mon you just have to do it." So I am. So there. I mean my mom told me to right?

Here's the plan for the FALL OF FORTY (notice the word play??):

September: Complete first triathlon without drowning.

October: Party in Oregon October 3rd. No details yet other than tequila, dancing and a surprise appearance by Justin Timberlake (still working on one of those). No children allowed.

November: Learn to surf in Barbados. No children allowed.

December: Buy my children a ridiculous amount of guilt-induced Christmas presents.

I'd love to add more self-indulgence to the list like a yoga retreat, bike tour, etc. but I'm afraid that my husband and children would be mommy-shopping on Craig's List at that point. Maybe for 41?

Poor skanks

My friend Susie sent me this video.  Hope it doesn't make you spit coffee on your MacBook like it did me.  Warning: Do not watch this if you are at work, have small children around or if you're an easily offended skank.

I win

The award for the lamest blogger EVER!  Sorry to be Flakey McMissing Pants.  I took a spontaneous trip last weekend; will tell all about it asap.

A couple of travel observations to keep everyone occupied:

1.)  We need a name for childless grown ups who bring their own full-sized, fuzzy blankets (usually with a picture of a cat on them) on planes.  The best I can come up with is Plankies (plane + blankies).  I know you all can do better.

2.)  What's with the stench right after take-off?  Nervous farters or the plane toilet sloshing around?  Inquiring noses want to know.

On a positive note, on my first flight I was seated next to a fellow oversharer!  I now know all about his ex-wife (strumpet) and his enlarged prostrate!  He knows about my kidney stones.  Probably not an even swap, but who's keeping score?

Looking forward to properly catching up.

It started with a sit n' spin

I was in the first or second grade.  My neighbor and current best friend Shelly had a new girl over.  This "girl" had brought her sit n' spin.  And she was not keen on letting me take a twirl.  Damn I wanted to spin (ironic?).  I thought this new girl was mean and I was happy when she left.

I didn't see this girl for a long time.  Then in the 6th grade we went to "outdoor school" which was basically sleep away camp in the middle of the school year.  We bonded over the love of a hot counselor, Sun Bear.  We did this little routine every time we saw, talked, or thought about him.  We would clasp our hands together, look at the sky dreamily, flutter our eyelashes and say "well I just think, heee's a maaan" in our best southern accents.  But the true love of my life I met that week wasn't Sun Bear, it was my friend.  When I saw her lick a slug on a dare I knew it was forever.

This girl turned 40 today.  We have so many stories I wouldn't even know how to pick just a few.  I was looking through photos of us today and found a card that she gave me in high school.  It's a handmade card (she made it), with two stick figures glued on the front holding hands with hearts all around them.  Here's what she wrote:

"Boo-

I wub you gobs.  Thank you for being my bestest friend.  I know we shall have a grand time pursuing our lives and trying to find out how many bamboo shoots it takes a day to feed a baby giant panda.  I am trusting you will accompany me to the depths of the Congo - that's what friends are for!  Next we shall turn the Sahara into a swimming pool.  With a friendship like ours we can accomplish the impossible.

I love you-

Ben"

I love you too Ben.  Thank you for the last 29 years of friendship.  I cherish them, and I cherish you.  Even if it's from 5000 or so miles away.

p.s.  Ben came from the Michael Jackson song.  We wore that one out.

Another one bites the dust

I'm back from a week in the backwoods of Florida and have the skeeter bites and beer gut to prove it.  We had a great time.  I can't believe the list of things we did in a mere seven days:  Went scalloping, swam with manatees, hatched baby chicks, rode 4-wheel drive vehicles in the dark woods looking for frogs and haunted trailers, dirty danced with locals, drank way too much booze, the list just goes on and on.  We had the most incredibly gracious and generous hosts who know how to show you a good time.  Very lucky.

On another note, I have a friend out there turning 40 today.  This is a very special friend.  I am not a shopper, in fact I dread shopping.  But if I ever need a fancy dress, a special outfit, a great pair of shoes etc., there is only one person I want to go with.  My friend approaches shopping like it's an event to be savored, not a chore.  The event always begins with coffee and includes wine at some point.  On a good day, there may even be a facial or a massage mixed in.  Oh and my friend's name is "Steve" (yes it's his porn name).  Steve, the most hetero metrosexual on the face of the earth (I've had the ladies tell me he knows his way around the female anatomy if you get my drift).

Steve and I have known each other for a long time (about 14 years) and he has been an incredibly loyal friend.  As much as he loves skin products, he also loves military history and I would take him in my foxhole anytime.  We have each other's backs and always will.  He's like the brother I never had.  The brother that likes to shop.

So cheers to you Steve!  Can't wait to make you do tequila shots in person (after your facial of course).

Out with it

I'm at one of those places where I need to "clear" before moving on with the blog.  I'm feeling much better now, but was definitely stuck in the mire there for awhile.  I know myself well enough to get curious about it when I'm feeling angry, paralyzed, apathetic, depressed or any combination of those emotions.

So what was going on?  Lots.  Where to start?

First of all, the state of the world.  I am a control freak.  And a Libra.  These two things are a dangerous combo.  My Libra-ness tells me there should be justice/fairness/balance in the world.  My control-freakness tells me that I should be handling this. 

Here's the crux of my anger on this one.  I handle all of the finances for our family.  This works for us.  My husband just seriously doesn't want to know and I'm comfortable with that.  Until the bottom fell out.  A little background:  I have been maxing out my 401k since I was 24.  The first thing I did with a large bonus from work was pay off a credit card debt I'd had since college.  I've never carried a balance since.  When we first got married we had about 13k between us.  Our parents each loaned us 5k to buy our first house.  From that point on we didn't spend money that we didn't have.  We saved up the cash before we bought our first furniture.  We bought less house than we could afford (all three times).  My husband's car is 14 years old.  We've always had plenty of insurance and rainy day savings and have been building retirement and college savings.  Our kids go to public school and we don't belong to a country club.  We live in the most highly taxed area of the country.  Our property taxes are more than our first mortgage (which we can't deduct due to the AMT).

So I'm pissed.  I'm pissed that we played by the rules and have lost half of everything we've worked for because of those who didn't.  Yes, at this point most of those losses are on paper, but it still weighs on me everyday.  I'm angry at so many people, not the least of them myself for not recognizing what was going to happen.  I'm angry at people who bought houses they couldn't afford.  I'm angry at lenders who threw money around recklessly.  I'm angry at the government for not recognizing the danger of turning sketchy mortgages into investment vehicles sooner.  I'm angry at the people who made shitloads of cash and got out long before the crash.  I'm angry at politicians who don't look any farther than the next election cycle when it comes to the long-term ramifications of their decisions.  

We did everything right, and yet are still left holding the bag.  And now we don't qualify for any of the "bailouts" but are front and center when it comes to who's going to get the tax bill for everyone else who's either too rich or under the caps to pay.  I hear my dad's voice in my head and his mantra "nobody ever said life was fair."  And he was right.  So now I have to choose how to react to all of it.  And my only choice is to let go of my disappointment in myself, the country, our institutions etc. and just be grateful.  I'm grateful that my husband is great at his job, and that he still has one.  I'm grateful that we do have savings that at least allow me to sleep at night.  I'm grateful that we are all healthy.  I'm grateful that we have health insurance.  I'm grateful that I have the ability to get a full time job if I need to.  I'm grateful that we're young(ish) and have the ability to change course if need be.

And maybe this is also another lesson in empathy.  I really do believe in the sentiment (that yes, I saw on a bumper sticker) "everybody does better when everybody does better."  We have too much poverty in this country.  We have too much excessiveness in this country.  Things have gotten out of whack.  But everyone needs to do their part and be responsible for the turnaround.  Class warfare will get us nowhere.  

On a more micro-level, I've been very angry with myself for not being the person that I know I can be.  I look around my house and get disgusted at the clutter and mess.  Who's in control of that?  I get frustrated at not achieving the goals that I set (like teaching a regular spin class) and go down a very negative path.  I have never been a very good time-manager and can piss it away like nobody's business.

So that's where I've been and why it's been difficult for me to feel creative.  I have to say that I'm incredibly grateful for all of you that continue to visit this blog.  I appreciate you more than you know!  Please keep coming back.

BTW - here's a close-up of the cloud booty if you couldn't pick it out of the sky:

p.s. Did you notice that we're at less than 100 days? Eeeeeeek!