Does that sound too much like Fat Albert? MAN it is tough to kill hey guys.
Anyway, how’s things?
Here, they are peaceful.
We have had a relatively slowgoing start to the new year, which has been really, really nice, to be honest. With the exception of a mishap yesterday (why are there brownies in my house?) my year has been my resolutions: sleep-yoga-run-walk-write-drinkwater-eatwell-bewithAnna-figureouthowtohelpothers. Not in any particular order, really. Well – in some order. The taking care of myself part, so far, seems to be the hardest. When Anna was younger, I thought taking care of myself meant taking time to be alone – that’s it, really – and in that solitude, doing things that made me happy. I’ve learned though, that it’s something to embrace with her, to talk about, so she can learn before 38 how to do that for herself, and so I can get better at helping her find her way. I don’t know if anyone loves Jada as much as I do – but even if you don’t – I think the below is worth watching. “Communication creates partnership.”
It’s like, OF COURSE! She’s so great.
Anyway, in other news:
Save the date: I’m going to be at 3S Artspace the day after Valentine’s Day (that is February 15th, for those of you that aren’t on top of your 2017 calendars yet) to tell a story – and the theme is Love/Hate. Every time I tell a story – I feel like I can put it away, so I think I’m going to talk about one of my love affairs. As long as my parents don’t show up? It will be scandalous and fun and I really think you should come, not just because I feel safer when I see people I love but also because every single storyteller always tells a story that is worth telling and worth hearing – information about the event here: It will be so much fun!
Equally as important: I’m going to throw an 80’s style prom for my birthday this year. You’re all invited. June-ish. I harbor all kinds of unprocessed feelings about my high school (lack of) relationships and pretty awful prom nights, and much like storytelling helps me put the bad feelings down, I think redoing my prom would as well. I also harbor serious love for 80’s love songs, because, hello, they’re amazing. I might hire a DJ just so I can hear, “This one is for Erin,” after dedicating a song to myself, because in the list of things I have never gotten over is hearing someone dedicate a song to me on 94.9 WHOM somewhere between the years 1988 and 1992. (Let it go, Erin, I know.) I’ll dedicate one to you too, no worries. Maybe I’ll slowly dedicate songs to you via my blogs over the next 6 months to help us get ready?
The prom rundown: I didn’t have a boyfriend, or even a boy – friend. I’d moved to Dover a year earlier, and only recently settled in to having regular friends, which was a miracle, or at least a miracle is what my friends described it as, since no one ever talks to new girls? Since girls didn’t ask boys (or at least this girl wouldn’t) I felt I was destined not to go, and to keep my dignity intact, told my friends I didn’t even want to go. To be honest, I didn’t really want to go – but only because I knew my fairy godmother wasn’t going to descend and transform me, and the thought of putting myself together was terrifying. At the time, the only outfit I wore was a grey sweatshirt, jeans, and hiking boots, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.
Side note: I have no idea why I wore hiking boots. The only hikes I conquered were to and from high school, and perhaps the mall. To wait tables.
When I was finally asked, it was a week before the prom, and I remember halfheartedly saying yes to him, while inside I was falling to the ground in sweet relief. When it came to the day though, and a group of my friends were all gathered at my best friend’s house for pictures, my date was not there. I’d been stood up. When the mothers started pushing us together, I tried very quietly to usher myself out and properly melt into the ground, but they were having none of it. Sometimes, moms are the worst. I wondered if I could run into the house proclaiming sickness, or just fall to the ground in a faint, but I was paralyzed in embarrassment. I quietly stood at the side of all my very prettily put together friends, alone, wearing a dress I’d had to borrow that didn’t totally fit, wearing a corsage I’d put on myself. I look at that girl now and think SAVE HER PLEASE! Put her back in her clothes and tell her it’s okay to not go to the prom. Save her from high school altogether! At least save her from those white mary janes.
If any of your resolutions involve helping others – come to 3S on February 15th, and help me (and other wonderful yet-to-be-named storytellers) feel some love.
And if they involve helping yourself, eat well. Drink more water. Get some sleep. Go to yoga!
Or, come to my birthday party.
This one’s for you, Becki: