Though she managed to pick
plenty of beautiful rushes as the boat glided by,
there was always a more lovely one
that she couldn’t reach.
“The prettiest are always further!”
she said at last,
with a sigh at the obstinacy of the rushes
in growing so far off.
lewis carroll
Try me on, I'm very you.
Deee-lite
so I turned 40 on the 12th (true).
no big plans for that day. I’m running preschool summer camps, and that was the first week. my goal was to just survive it and celebrate over the weekend. the kids were absolutely miserable that day (minimal exaggeration), so it was a fairly crappy day. I did have bookclub that night, so escaped to be with book-reading, wine-drinking women that I like to spend time with. they got me a cake and sang “happy birthday”. many of them asked what I had planned to celebrate (misdirection).
the celebration plans were this: saturday dinner with three other couples (lie), great friends, at a fun, casual restaurant that our friend recently opened. my parents came down on friday because bootzer kept telling them on the phone “you come my house!” (pretty much all true, I was more an aside), and elouise showed up as a surprise to me, and curt (lie) because she “hopped a ride down” (lie).
saturday arrived and the day was spent girling it up with weez: nail painting, clothing buying, hair removing, chit chatting all day long. elouise was to be meeting a blogging friend (lie), whom she had been texting on and off all day (blatant lie - she was sudoku-ing!) the same time as the birthday dinner. she would convoy with us, meet the friend at the restaurant (again I say, lie).
mom and dad left before we did. they were dropping the boys off to our friends’ house (fib) where a babysitter had been arranged for all the couples (falsehood). they were then going to go on to see a movie (untruth).
I was ready early for once, sat around waiting to leave, debated about whether to spanx or not to spanx. in hindsight, quite happy to have decided on yes to the spanx. arrived at the restaurant, curt strangely kept holding my hand and leading me around quite determinedly. we wrapped around the outside of the building toward the seating out back ("ooh, look, balloons!), and “SURPRISE”.
okay, I like to think of myself as a fairly intelligent girl, but really, not so much. looking back, so many clues, both subtle and blatant. misinformation, equivocation, and deception - that’s what my closest friends and family are all about.
my staff, who I thought couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives, were there. the abruptly ended question of “I thought your birthday was Satur...” making much more sense. my bookclub friends there, enlightening me as to why no one wanted to maintain too lenghthy a conversation all night, in fear that the combination of wine and talk might blow the surprise. babysitting co-op friends explaining how diligent they had to be in removing my e-mail address from the distribution lists requesting sits for that night. neighborhood friends, friends from the kids’ school, tae kwon do friends, curt’s work friends. all there. then my plain ol’ friends. the ones I was supposed to be having dinner with. the every day ones.
and lastly, my friend friend. felecia. my maid of honor. flown in from buffalo. my birthday present from curt (partial lie).
so that was my birthday celebration. tequila, food, friends, family. an evening all about me. perfect.
so I’m in this jimi hendrix mood lately. the other morning after dropping off the twins, I put a cd in and the beginning guitar chords of purple haze start to blast through the car. I look in my rearview mirror, and a look that I can only describe as...gritty spreads over evan’s face. he squints up his eyes, purses his mouth, and the head bopping starts. well, more like staccato chin jabs. his feet start kicking and his hands are clapping and fist-swinging. he blisses out for a good 3 minutes, laughing at my laughter.
the song ends and he demands “more!”
rock on....
in virginia. tinola and adobo and sauteed shrimp for dinner. much cable tv for dessert.
got to sleep in until 9am. the boys and I are still in pajamas, and are already overfed for the day (chompurrado and bacon for breakfast!). continuing our lounging while mom and dad take their first post-morning-with-the-boys nap.
no big plans for the week. the boys are looking forward to the fulfullment of all the lolo promises (toys r us, funland, popsicles, dvd’s, wii) and the arrival of aidan, connor, and gabriel later in the week, while I just enjoy and appreciate being the daughter instead of the mother for a little while.
I love vacation.
a few month’s back I went through what was, in hindsight, a bout of depression. at the time I didn’t feel sad. I really didn’t feel anything at all. my emotions and energy were deadened, and I felt disassociated from everyone and everything. it was quite frightening. scarier still, there was no event, no unhappiness, nothing to justify such a profound change.
I’ve always gone through a funk, usually at the beginning of fall or the start of winter—even looked forward to it. for a week or two, it was a solitary time of jazz and books and lap blankets, sweaters and hot cider. introversion and taking stock.
I think that being down in atlanta has denied me my cathartic season of solitude. there is no lengthy forced isolation. there is no snow to insulate you and your senses. there is no burrowing or hibernating. there hasn’t even been enough rain to keep us indoors for more than a few days.
and I miss those things. it’s good to, maybe not wallow, but submerge yourself in that grayer side of life. and with fairly consistent sunshine and warm weather, I think it’s harder to do that. while it would seem that would be a good thing, I believe I’m missing out a fundamental mental purging.
so my head forced the issue and spiraled me down and turned me zombie-like for about a month. finally, I had a loving friend trigger what turned into a good hour or so of good, solid, heart-wrenching sobbing. and I came out on the other side.
so that’s my theory--many little funks are better than an occasional overwhelming big one.
totally fine now, mom! if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have brought it up. which is the oyzon way.
and oddly enough, don’t know when I’ll be back again.
oh, I have a general idea, but it’s so far down the line of items waiting for entry into my consciousness, that it’s currently a non-fact.
it seems silly to avoid mentioning our travels (just as I’m not likely to mention that we’re not home on an answering machine message) since it’s being stated on some of the other oyzon blog sites. so yes, we’re leaving. actually have left, and are in virginia at mom and dad’s. feeling pretty calm about the trip. the time for planning and panic has passed, and now we’re just going to do our best to enjoy and appreciate the ride.
the next hurdle is the whole of tomorrow. getting everyone up and out of the house by 5am to make it to the airport to go to nyc, to go to hong kong, to go to manila. I think the flights will be fine, with all the helping hands, and cousins to distract one another. there are parents, grandparents and uncles to help--not to mention the communal parenting of unrelated uncles and titas, lolos and lolas we will meet on each flight.
and, well, if it sucks...it’ll be a finite kind of sucking.
so think of us all on our travels, and we’ll try to send up a signal every once in a while to let you know how it’s all going.
went to a party on friday. was introduced to a man that I was sure I knew from somewhere.
turns out I had met him once before...he was my doctor at my last gynecological visit.
last night:
a babysitter.
showered. make-up actually used and hair attended to for more than 5 minutes.
uninterrupted, unfrenzied, non-kid-friendly dinner and drinks and conversation at a deliciously indulgent slow pace.
a walk. holding hands.
home. three sleeping beautiful children.
video game success at a point that had caused us time and trouble.
wonderful, deep, restful sleep.
satisfyingly happy.
I wrote this as an anniversary gift for curt 10 years ago. I’ve resisted the urge to edit, and present it here as was originally done.
A long time ago, in a land that no longer exists, there lived a princess. Not your normal story-book princess, but a princess nonetheless. The Princess of O was a short girl (and a girl she was, then), with glasses, and long black hair. And on the day we’re speaking of, in that time of long ago, she wore not a royal gown, but a pair of shorts and a baseball shirt. Because you see, she did not yet know that she was a princess.
She spent her days among her brothers and other children playing in the sun, swinging on tire swings, reading in the shade of the big tree in front of her castle. And though she didn’t know it, she was waiting for her life to begin.
So on this day, of summer and softball, our princess went with one of her brothers to the land that is no more. There, in sunshine and youth, she waited. On second base in the Kingdom of Gafb to be exact. She did not realize she waited - for remember, she did not know her life was about to begin. She waited in hindsight.
So there, on second base, the moment of waiting ended and living began with the magic words “there’s no leading.” This uttered, lo and behold, she looked into the face of a prince! He was a young prince. A cute prince (as I said, he was young). A glowing white prince. But still a prince. With his answering smile, and the disappearance of the blonde commoner, their fate was sealed. The prince and princess became friends.
The young prince brought to the princess many days of happiness and laughter, and of sadness and heartbreak, all mixed together. And though these tales are not told here, the young prince and princess, with their siblings, lived many adventures. They climbed the Tree of Tire, they dared attempt the Ninja Rope, they went on the quest for the Orb of Life. They played among the rooftops, swam the pool of O, became Rats of Prom, went to the City Limits, and saw Visions. They fell into the tarpits of Love, wrested their way free, only to be sucked back in.
They shared their childhood, said good-bye to it, and grew into adulthood.
Years and lifetimes later, on a windy day in September, at a place near the Kingdom of Gafb which no longer is, the princess stood in her gown of white, with the handsome Prince who was no longer a boy, and looked into those same eyes which began her life. With the magic words “I do” proclaimed before their family and friends - Poof! - she discovered her self a Princess.
And still the days passed and the adventures continued. Their love grew, as did their like for one another.
And as their story still continues, they wait. The do not realize they wait - for remember, they know not what new adventure is about to begin. They wait in hindsight…
book in hand at 12:20am.
home by 12:50am.
in bed and reading at 1am.
page 200 at 4:30 am.
up at 8:30am up and pretending to be functioning, and interested in the boys’ tae kwon do belt test this morning, and curt’s and my date this evening....
the USPS is going to be issuing a Star Wars stamp. vote for your favorite:
star wars stamp vote
ethan started throwing up about 10pm.
curt at 11pm.
eli at 3am.
evan, who started the whole thing a couple of nights ago, woke up at 4am and 5:30am just to not be ignored.
I Go Back To The House For A Book
by Billy Collins
I turn around on the gravel and go back to the house for a book, something to read at the doctor’s office, and while I am inside, running the finger of inquisition along a shelf, another me that did not bother to go back to the house for a book heads out on his own, rolls down the driveway, and swings left toward town, a ghost in his ghost car, another knot in the string of time, a good three minutes ahead of me — a spacing that will now continue for the rest of my life.
curt’s bacheloring it while we’re here in virginia for easter.
got an e-mail from him last night--he was eating the lumpia (which, incidentally, I didn’t have time to sample.)
he rated it “yummy.”
today I made lumpia.
not a big deal for most filipinas, perhaps. but for me, in the grand scheme of family history, it was a big accomplishment.
I’d sat next to my mom for years and years as she painted the batter onto the griddle to make the wrappers, (and then later used the store-bought), and watched as she filled, rolled, dabbed, closed...over and over again. we’d wait for her to make a mistake with the wrappers so that we could eat them. she’d sometimes give us some to fill with things of our choice. spam and cheddar cheese was a favorite. or we’d do the plaintains.
I’m in a meal swap group and the theme for this month was “international”, so I plucked up my courage and decided it was time. mom e-mailed me the recipe, and...I did it. it was extremely easy, as are many things once you get past the mental hurdle, and I was so proud of myself.
though quite eager to learn my mother’s dishes, I’m often reluctant to actually do it. curt loves mom’s cooking, as do I. and now the boys. and all my men are brutally honest with their comparisons, which is good--and bad. “this doesn’t taste like lola’s!” “not enough garlic.” “not quite right.” “perfect.”
and the ultimate compliment: “nice job, lomy.”
as with all things in my life, my mom sure is a hard act to follow. but I will keep trying and learn from her while I can.
I sat and prayed for some people today.
I don’t really pray. not on my knees, not at bedtime. not really.
I sort of maintain a one-sided semi-conscious conversation. “Thank you” for near-misses, injuries avoided, blessings received, and “Please, please, please..."s sent out to help others or myself for whatever reasons, selfish or not.
I work at a church. it’s not my church, not my religion. but I figure it’s all good.
I went up to the empty sanctuary. it was quiet and peaceful and I could sit and close my eyes and talk to myself and to the Being and send out good vibes.
I don’t always know what I believe, but I believe in Something. and I hope it heard me.