Saying yes...

Moment of Morepork Zen

You Just Don’t Care... You Just Have to See Them...

A ghost from my past came into my present in a way I never expected today and made me think of this song. I love this song... some of it is just the song, some of it, the memories it evokes. When I hear it, I can vividly remember being on either side of the equation... the white dress side, always the more powerful... the person pining... not so much.

Many, many years ago, while living above a bar, I lived less than a block away from a musician who had captured my fancy. We worked together at a theatre and got to know each other there. He wasn't my type... or so I thought. Over the years, I've realized many men I was interested in were not my type until a few years ago a friend pointed out that I was looking at the wrong criteria. When people speak of types, they so often speak of physical attributes. Sure, I had my list, but I've often been with or interested in men who didn't fit that.

I liked very smart, funny men bursting with creativity. If they had that, the package didn't seem to matter. It would be nice if women got the same advantage, but I'm guessing breasts/legs/youth make up for what might be lacking in a personality.

But back to the song and being on either side of the equation... I can think back to times when I knew my presence was causing pain... and I can think back to a time when the mere proximity of another, another person who was not available, was a stick in the side... that presence, fueled by a drink or two, was torture... Even worse? If the person was performing at a bar and had written a song for you.

I don't care what people say, if someone who can sing and effortlessly play an instrument writes a song for you... you'll be swayed. You'll be sitting there, drinking your drink with friends... and then you'll hear that person playing something with your name, singing about things that only relate to you... and you will feel a cocktail of pain and elation, but mostly pain.. especially if you're not together.

That is until a much smarter and more creative man, someone who you didn't think was your type, comes along, tells you this person was an ass, and woos you with their wonderfulness... and suddenly, you'll be back in the white dress... and living happily ever after.

There are some things I will NOT apologize for...

Andy and I were confessing less than stellar concert choices down below, or those that might be looked down upon by others. I can think of one I went to that would make most people cringe. Yes, I saw Tom Jones! Yes, I've written about it here before... have had irrational love for Tom since I was 7... wanted to send him my Easy Bake Oven to prove that love... We can't control who flips our switch... even if we know that choice might be cheesy or looked down upon. I stand by Tom in all his Vegas-y, cheesy glory! And just when I think he can't affect me anymore, I listen to a song and poof, my rational mind is gone.

Oops

It dawned on me the other day that my driver's license had expired in the end of August. It was now nearly November... I was going to have to do something about it so as not to have a repeat of the time after the Eldest Lamblet was born and in a blur of exhaustion, confusion, awe, identity loss, identity found... I let it lapse for over a year.

For anyone who doesn't know, if you let it lapse over a certain amount of time, you don't exist anymore. What was worse, when I went to take ALL tests, yes all... you have to take the damn road test if you're enough of a chucklehead to let it lapse for a year... I found that my old license no longer counted for as valid ID, I would need my social security card, which I had, and went to pull out, only to find it was my Second City ID pass... there would be no tests that day. After another month of BS, I managed to prove I was living, was a citizen, could drive, and was given a license again. I never let it lapse again, until this year.

This time wasn't so bad, but I still had to go to the DMV. Last time, due to a spotless record, I could merely send in my moola and wait for new stickers to arrive in the mail. Apparently a good record is only good for a 4 yr waiver from having to step into the DMV, this time, I had to go.

The facilities had been updated since I had been there some 8 years ago, but the people behind the counters were still soulless, with nary a sense of humor. I know, I know, they've probably heard it all. They've dealt with the worst of the worst and are used to giving minute directions.
The thing is, if you give me minute directions, my head will break those down even further, trying to figure out what you want, thus making me do something stupid and giving the impression that I don't have a clue. I believe I exhibited at least 3 of those instances today.

And... don't argue. Don't try to explain that you know better. Oh god no. That just makes them even worse. When I progressed from the woman at counter 10 to the woman at counter 14 and that woman asked me to give her EVERYTHING the woman at counter 10 had given me, I mindlessly handed over everything I still had in my hand which caused her to respond with, "Honey?? That's your credit card receipt. Why would I want your credit card receipt?? You  need to keep that."

I wanted to throw something, but instead said something about "Oh, I forgot I still had that with the other stuff..." to which she responded with, "Go sit down... over there... wait for your name... ok??"

Grrrrr.

Sure, I could do that, and I did, and I waited for the photographer woman to call, which she did. She called out and said, "You need to come right in over here", stressing the in and then gesturing with her hands... right next to herself, I thought, hmmm, ok and started to walk where her had was pointing only to realize that she was being vague with the hand and not specific because the place where she was pointing was in her little maze of stuff, a maze of stuff that looked official and not for the average visitor. I got a multiple fingersnap followed with a "No, no, no, no, no, no, no!!!" Of course I had realized about a step into her maze that this was not what she was wanting and didn't need the snap or the chorus of no's, but like good cattle and someone who had spent years in parochial school, I moved along to the proper spot, where she took my mug shot. She was miffed at this point, I was miffed at this point. She took the photo, looked at it and said, "Hmmm, that'll do." I looked down at the photo as I hightailed it out of there and thought, shit... 4 years of looking like a very angry prison warden.

Life After Death

Five years ago I got one of those calls you just never expect, but most of us will get at some point if we associate with the living. It was my mother... someone was dying. It was my brother's wife. I stood there and could not make sense out of it. Apparently there had been a massive brain bleed... she was brain dead, but they were waiting until all people who needed to be there could be there since she was an organ donor. Aside from the pesky brain bleed, she was healthy.

My sister-in-law dropped dead just months shy of her 50th birthday. My brother went from planning her surprise party to planning a funeral. My brother went from being a happy family man to being a widower with 3 children. He lost the woman he had been in love with since high school (I met her when I was 7). I would have crumbled. He did not. Does this mean he flew through the grief? The loss? No, I'm sure there was plenty of ugly, plenty of anger, and he deserved it. He was allowed to go through it, but go through it he did, he didn't stay.

A couple of months ago I was at his house, it was a rare time where nothing was going on, I wasn't over there for a function, my husband and kids weren't there. A couple of his kids were rambling around, but otherwise, it was just us two. He was sitting on his bed watching a ballgame and I joined him. We half watched, half talked, and I spilled out what a stressful number of weeks I had had along with all of my doubts about mankind while leaning my head on his shoulder. I felt almost selfish, knowing my hard weeks had been nothing like the challenges asked of him, but gracious as always, big brotherly as always, he listened and gave me hugs and said he had been to dark places and that they're just not worth staying in no matter how hard they are to crawl out of. He said he had been in the worst spot and he never wants to be there again, will not allow himself to go there again, no matter how bad things are. He and his business have been hit upside the head by the challenges of the economy and yet he was still remaining upbeat. Not only was he remaining upbeat, but he was bucking me up.

Yes, he was remaining optimistic. We spoke of things we wished for in the future and he said he didn't need to find the end-all love he once sought as a young man, he had already found that... no he just hoped for some companionship. This past week marked the 5th anniversary of his wife's death, I emailed him and said how proud I was of him and how relieved I was that he had miraculously found some footing. He then told me he had met someone and was just enjoying spending time with another person, someone who wasn't looking for all we think we're looking for in our 20's. He said:

Like I told X in regards to the anniversary, because she was aware of the date, I said it is a day to remember, but not one to mourn anymore, because life continues and what has happened will never change, but how we move forward still has value and opportunity, so we are where we are and maybe it's time to start the next chapter and live for those who are left and enjoy them all the more......like friends and family that have carried me all this time, so it's nice to share time with someone who can appreciate these sentiments and not judge or think me crazy........my family already knows I'm a bit TOUCHED!!

My heart sang when I read that. I believe I also told him thank gawd he was touched, to which he responded, "That's right, we're normal, they're all crazy!" :)

I'm not quite sure why I'm posting about this... although I'm pretty much an open book, I do have plenty of stuff I keep private and believe should remain private, whether my own story or someone else's. Also, my brother doesn't read my blog and I'm not quite sure it's fair to post something so private in such a public space, but I guess I'm just really proud of him and amazed at what he's been able to weather. Does that make sense?? I guess it's also a reminder to myself not to linger in bad places even though they're sure to come. Shit will happen. Horrible shit may happen, but we can choose how we react. Why stay in a bad spot if you can think a slightly better thought? Followed by another and another.

The other reason for posting this? We were told that my sister-in-law, through donating her body, most likely helped around 50+ people. 50+.  That's a lot of people. I realize people have their beliefs, but if you're not tightly wrapped to any and have not signed your license...  you might want to. We don't need our bodies once we're gone and someone who is ready to write their next chapter might need something.

Mmmm, Smells Like Teen Spirit

As the Eldest Lamblet and her friend spilled out of the school dance, I suspected, due to the look on her face, that she did not have a good time. When she got in the car I asked how it went... did she have fun?
Oh, it was fun, she said, she just had a headache. Apparently the entire gym reeked of nothing but teenage B.O. and AXE.

Mmmm. I think if I had to choose one of those scents, I might actually go for the teenage sweat. Coating the B.O. with AXE is just like adding insult to injury.

I also can't help but wonder... do the boys really think the AXE is going to work its magic and the girls will stampede then swoon? They might be stampeding and swooning due to the AXE, but I'm guessing it has more to do with needing air.

Made me think of Snag...

h/t I'm Just F'in Sayin'

Say Hey, It's Friday!

For Snag

It's ok, Snag. Your secret is safe with us. We know this is the song you never really hated.

Move Over Gary Snyder