A Meme

Standard issue ear scoop

Definition of a meme

(Pronounced "meem") An idea, thought or piece of information that is passed from one generation to the next through imitation and behavioral replication. In his 1976 book "The Selfish Gene," Richard Dawkins said that memes and memetics are the cultural counterpart to the biological study of genes and genetics. Like evolution, Dawkins observed that human cultures evolve via "contagious" communications in a manner similar to the gene pool of populations over time.
In a blogger's world, a meme is an idea, question, or project that is posted in one blog and answered to in many other blogs. Memes are used to propagate ideas in the blogosphere and is especially handy when one has ran out of things to write about.
Personally, I thought that a meme was literally, a post about ME or in this case one's two ME's (as in split personalities).
I never claimed to be bright.

Anyhow, tagged with a ME meme over three weeks ago by Urbano de la Cruz,
I had difficulty complying since- as you may have noticed- my life is an open book (much to my beloved's discomfort).
But in the spirit of good blogging karma, here goes--

My response to 5 Things People Don't know About Me:

1. I mooned people on my wedding day (yes, with my wedding dress on and all)

I am not sure what came over me. I am sure that I was just trying to be funny.
The local paper writer and I surmise that on a subconscious level, the act of mooning signified the severing of apron strings.


2. I have my baby teeth saved in a curio box.

Come to think of it, was it Freud or Lacan who said that in the loss of a tooth, there is a confrontation—an encounter—with the reality of bodily fragmentation and, ultimately, with death itself. I have always been pretty morbid. What can I say.


3. I love to karaoke the song: 'I've never been to Me' by Charlene Duncan

"...oooh i've been to georgia and california and any place i could run, took the hand of a preacher man and we...made love in the sun..."
This was THE very first record I purchased in my life. On the pretext of buying it as a gift for TLPW, it was my favorite song in 1976.
In december 2005,
I lost in a sing-off against The Soft Spot Girl.
It was the last time I sang that song.

4. I get very cranky when I am hungry. If food is not available to me at the exact moment of hunger, I quickly lose my appetite (and then it gets really ugly).

5.I am fascinated with ear wax. I love cleaning my kids' ears, and Steve's too (when he lets me).
Varieties and quantities--and my unproven theory about their correlation to personalities, I find interesting.

Consider yourself tagged and as a meme goes tag away!

Love Letters from Second Born

2nd:
"Why can't we see God?"

Me:
"Actually we see God everyday in our interactions with people.
When someone is nice and kind, that is God working through people."

2nd:
"So when you are shouting at us, that means God is in someone else?"

A Rant about Nothing

"I was a jerk" McDreamy said on Grey's Anatomy.
"While I know I was right, you think I'm wrong" (Sandra Oh's character said, not to McDreamy but to her love interest)
By 9:59 PM, nobody was sleepless in Seattle (the setting for Grey's Anatomy)

If only life was truly like a primetime drama.
I am a housewife. Not desperate, but a housewife nevertheless.
(Ick, just typing the word makes my skin itch)
The fact is, no euphemism:
homemaker, sahm--stay at home mom or sh** a** ho mother f-er,
changes anything.
A housewife is a maid with benefits.
The maid does the laundry.

Case in point, Steve pointed out that the load of clean clothes newly washed and folded (FOLDED mind you), had tiny pieces of kleenex clinging all over it.
The maid got defensive.

This is a bone of contention between us.
For me to do laundry, painful as it is, I have rules:
1. pockets must be emptied.
2. any special care clothes (such as line dry, dry clean only) must be separated, because there will be no label checking done by me.
3. socks must be un-balled, as I must not have to have to handle them intimately.
4. i may not be held liable for any shrinkage, ink spots, kleenex shrapnel and the like.
5. i must be thanked after each and every load.

Is that too much to ask?
He counters that whereas he agrees he should empty his pockets, he maintains that I should too.
A lengthy discussion ensued.
So lengthy it would never fit into the primetime format.
Perhaps the maid should stop being a pain and be thankful she is employed.

Armor of Hope

A tombstone in St. Paul’s Chapel/cemetery located across the street from Ground Zero. The church miraculously untouched by the firestorm, is where George Washington prayed before he was sworn in, as the first President of the United States. (photo taken 10/28/06)

Chesca,
Guess what? WE are going to Chicago on Saturday Jan.

This is an email I get from my mother.
So I call her. Her voice trembling, she tells me that her hands are clammy and that she is flustered.

In the process of patting herself on the back with an email to me,
she was proudly reporting that on a split second decision (a feat), she went online (another feat) and purchased roundtrip train tickets for herself and my father to travel to Chicago (yet another feat).
In the middle of composing the email, she looked at the calendar and realized that the tickets she bought were not for Saturday, the 27th of January, but for Wednesday, the 24th of January- the day she was writing to me (hence the cryptic email)
By the time I called her, she had managed to straighten everything out, but not before she was worse for wear.

This is my wiring. (The family of fainting goats according to Steve) There is no escaping it either, because my father is even worse.
Every movement he pre-labels as a pag-aaralan natin
(let's study the situation).
As a result, I am a nervous nelly and an extremely cautious person.
A white knuckling driver.
( driving is an accomplishment since my mother has never driven a car)
I am inspired that my mother, at age 76, is able to perform outside of her comfort zone.
That she is able to act on impulse to attend grandparents day 600+ mi. away impresses me.
There is hope.

Black Eyed Peas - Where Is The Love

Black Eyed Peas, Manila (Where is the love,7/2006)
8 year old found this live version performed in Manila
(Band member Apl is a Filipino. His story here)

Taste Explosion

The act of gift giving stresses me out because I am anal.
Not only do I try to give gifts that I think will be perfectly enjoyed by the recipient but another requirement is that I must like it for myself.
(At times, this self imposed requirement actually ends up hindering the gift giving)
Last Christmas, I was painstakingly matching gift cards to teachers, nieces, nephews and the bus driver.
Mulling over my choices with a friend (who shall remain nameless)
I was informed that my Kentucky Fried Chicken Certificate choice for the school bus driver was inappropriate because he is black.
I was confused. To make sure, I asked another (nameless) friend--and I got the same answer: inappropriate.
Upon further research I found it interesting that indeed, ethnic groups' favored foods were being used as verbal ammunition.
I thought, since when did what we eat become fodder for racism?
How did society make the transition from identifying what people enjoyed eating to making it a racial slur?
And, how did we, who actually enjoyed eating the certain food, decide it was insulting for others to say that we enjoyed eating the certain food?

I could have just given him a gift card to Starbucks and been done with it but due to my own stubborness and my preference for KFC, I didn't.
Since my goal was to make him happy (and not to take a sociological stance)
I decided to prepare a back-up present.
(I said I was anal)
I prepared a Wholefoods treatbag
(parrano cheese, waterwheel crackers and red seedless grapes) and the KFC certificate.
On the morning of the gift giving I waited for him to pull up.
I climbed aboard the bus and presented him with my offerings:
"Mr. Tom, these are two of my favorites...pick what you want for Christmas."
He picked up the KFC certificate, flashed me a big grin and gave me the thumbs up sign.
And that was that.

Rice-
Kimchi-
KFC-
An easy target for gastronomic racism I am, considering these are right up there in my list of favorite foods.
(Eaten all together in one spoonful, it is a taste explosion)
However, I believe that when one has nothing but good intentions, a gift should never have to bite you in the ass.

Chill Pill

"Someone Needs a Nap" St. Martin, March 2006

Considering that education in the Philippines has Spanish, American and British influences,
I am often perplexed by the written word (that's my excuse anyway).
I find the google search bar extremely helpful.
When I put in: Dreamed or Dreamt?
This is one of the first things I pulled up from a website called: Englishpage.
This transcript is from one of their forums:
___________________________________________
Anonymous: is it "dream, dreamed, dreamed" or "dream, dreamt, dreamt"?
I just can't remember. Maybe both?
Jörg: They are alternate spellings. Both are correct.
GUEST: THIS IS A VERY SILLY QUESTION, YOU SHOULD STUDY MORE.
Anonymous: hmmm...what about, there are no silly questions, just silly answers.
Jörg: YOU SON OF THE B****, IF YOU KNOW THE QUESTION YOU JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION, BUT IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE QUESTION JUST SHUT THE F. UP.
Rusty Super Moderator: Wait a minute now, guys, cool it. Englishpage doesn't like this kind of talk.
___________________________________________

Sounds like Jorg could use a nap or an antidepressant.
Speaking of which--
I experimented with Lexapro for about four months and have been off it now for about a month.
Here's the low-down:

It was definitely helpful.
the pros:
-my usual stress triggers were more manageable.
(travel, socializing in unfamiliar territory, house guests, dog sh** in the house...etc)
-i was not constantly freaking out.
-i was able to tackle difficult tasks
-i could be supportive of others without taking on their load.
-i could deal with personal crap without feeling like it was the end of the world.

the cons:
-i was in a perpetual haze.
-i felt robbed of my natural propensity to feel for others.
-i was unable to cry.
-organization, concentration and creativity were not 100%.
Lexapro alleviated the feeling of intense pressure so it might have hindered my "works best under pressure" mode.
(bear in mind, my 100% might be your 50%)
-TMI disclaimer: sex was at 90%
(bear in mind, my 90% might be your 100%, 'tis a gift)
-the possibility of having to be chemically dependent for life bothered me.

So why quit, you might ask?
1. I do not want to be dependent on it.
2. At times I suspect my crankiness, stress, fear and inertia are merely bad habits I had formed as a coping mechanism to life. Lexapro allowed me a window of opportunity into breaking that cycle. Presently, I am of the belief that if I can train myself to break my bad habits, then I should be okay without it.
(an occasional vodka/cranberry juice helps)
3. I think that if I get just the right amount of sleep, exercise, food, prayer, support, conviction and practice, I should be okay.

As I live sans Lexapro (three weeks and counting)-
I am teflon-free emotionally (meaning I can feel, react and cry).
but now:
-I can make a resolve to adjust my reactions.
-I do the mental exercise of putting things in perspective (where they belong)
-I can realize when something needs attention instead of allowing myself to escape in a haze.

I will be okay.

(for Carole King, who constantly inspires me, happy bday)

Feeling Martha Stewart

As I took my shower the other night, Steve's said:
"boy, that was a long shower."
Thanks to Anne Griffin (seen here refusing to be photographed)
my regimen has just gotten longer.
After I commented on her skin looking great (you know, chick talk)--
she shared with me the trade secret of fancy salon owners:
Arm and Hammer baking soda.
(Coincidentally, I was recently exalting its fantastic efficiency for cleaning the scum and libag from our glass shower door to Steve--who then proceded to use it on his hair--as was suggested on the yellow box...but on the face?)
But anyway, after trying it for a few weeks, I am now a believer of the
$1.00/16 ounce box of baking soda--that I have yet to use for baking--because it works.

Last night, as I entered a bar in Ohio (oh yes, I am back off the wagon)
...I was carded.
May I repeat that?
I. Was. Carded.
Yes, perhaps the lighting was dim, and the bouncer wore eyeglasses, but nevertheless, it happened.
(It's been a while)
And just so you know, its not like the others were carded either.
(so sorry to have to bring that up, Steve)

Anyhow, my bathroom regimen has gotten just a little bit longer now because as I shake that yellow box onto my palm and start exfoliating my face
(mix 3 parts baking soda, with 1 part water)
I end up cleaning the entire shower.
"It's a good thing"

The First Born

Unlocking Your Personality – What Birth Order Says About You
Written by: Nicole Teague
CIGNA Behavioral Health

Have you ever wondered why you are the way you are? What is it that makes you…you? Unfortunately, there is no clear-cut answer to this question. However, many things are said to have an effect on personality –genes, parents, location, friends, and the list goes on. Another factor that is said to have an influence on personality is birth order. In other words, your position in your family – for example, whether you are a middle child or the only child – has an effect on the kind of person that you become.

We’ve all heard about someone acting like “the baby of the family” or like “an only child”. But where does this idea come from? Much research has been done over the years on birth order, and as a result, certain characteristics have been identified based on your position in your family.

How do you fit in?
Below are some of the typical characteristics of the major birth order positions. Which characteristics do you identify with? How accurately do the characteristics of your birth order position describe you? What about the people you know?

(Information obtained from University of Maine Cooperative Extension, 2005.)

First-Born Children
First-born children are often looked up to by others, and as a result, automatically take on a role of leadership. However, along with this leadership comes the pressure to succeed. Parents are often the most strict with first-born children, and expect them to "set an example" for younger siblings.

First-born children tend to...

* Be perfectionists
* Enjoy making other people happy
* Be highly motivated to achieve success
* Take on a leadership role
* Be responsible
* Feel jealous or neglected when younger siblings arrive as a result of no longer being the center of attention

Middle-Born Children
Middle-born children often tend to feel left out, as if they don’t have a “place” in the family. However, being “stuck in the middle” often results in these individuals being skilled at compromising and getting along with others.

Middle born children tend to...

* Be more rebellious than their siblings
* Adapt easily to any situation
* Play the role of mediator, and prefer compromise to conflict
* Develop skills or talents not shared by siblings- for example, if an older sibling is a star athlete, a middle born child may focus on music for their talent
* Be the most varied of all of the birth positions – for example, he or she may be friendly and outgoing, or shy and quiet

Last-Born Children
Last-born children are often known as the “baby” of the family. Because they are used to having other people do things for them, they often have difficulty with making decisions and taking responsibility.

Last-born children tend to...

* Be outgoing
* Have the ability to “charm” others
* Feel inferior to siblings
* Be considered spoiled, demanding, or impatient
* Develop abilities that older siblings don’t have (see Middle-born children)
* Remain “The Baby” of the family- by expecting others to do things for them, make decisions, and take responsibility

Only Children
Only children tend to have a lot of the same characteristics as first-born children. As a result of gaining undivided attention from parents, only children are often considered to be self-centered. Because they never had to learn to share or overcome conflicts with brothers or sisters, they are often described as selfish and not easily forgiving of themselves or others.

Only children tend to...

* Be well-organized, or perfectionists
* Be comfortable with responsibility
* Not take criticism well
* Be comfortable with being the center of attention
* Be responsible

Not so fast...
Predicting personality based on birth order is not as simple as one may think. There are many exceptions that can have an effect on how much birth order plays a role in determining personality. Some of these factors are listed below:

* Gender
* Blended families
* Adoption
* Multiples (for example, twins or triplets)
* How many children are in the family
* Spacing of children (for example, whether 1 year or 9 years separate siblings)

To understand how these factors can impact the characteristics of birth order, consider the following example: if a child is born 15 years after their sibling, he or she may identify with more of the characteristics of a first-born child because they did not encounter the same situations that someone with a sibling only 2 years older than them would have experienced.

When considering how birth order affects personality, it is important to remember that every person may not be able to easily “fit” into a particular category. Parents can help to prevent their children from being “stereotyped” by attempting to view them as unique individuals and avoiding comparing them with their siblings.

References
University of Maine Cooperative Extension. (2005). Birth Order Helps Make Us Unique.

Twiddling My Thumbs

As if I don't already know, I get drawn to personality tests just
so I can get better acquainted with...guess who?
Myself.
Its sort of like the act of smelling your armpits after a long day.
You know how it is going to pan out and yet you just can't stop yourself.
You just have to smell it.
So because my high stress job can wait, the test, I take.

I found the words BODILY KINESTHETIC INTELLIGENCE laughable
(perhaps I lied to myself...we do this all the time)
considering the following:

1. i hate exercise.
2. i drove to and from work for 12 years (yes, the 300 steps)
3. my idea of fun is: sleep.

But here it is anyway--take the test.
Get to know yourself, and if you come out better,
(because you test well, not because you lie)
you have something to strive for.

Your Dominant Intelligence is Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence

You are naturally athletic and coordinated, good at making your mind and body work together. Sports are fun and easy for you, especially those requiring good hand - eye coordination. There's also a good chance you're a great dancer, or good at expressing yourself through body language. You learn best by doing, and you feel like you've always got to be moving (even if it's just your hands). You would make a good athlete, physical education teacher, dancer, actor, firefighter, or artisan.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

K12, September 2004

Katie Talarico

* Share everything.
* Play fair.
* Don't hit people.
* Put things back where you found them.
* Clean up your own mess.
* Don't take things that aren't yours.
* Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
* Wash your hands before you eat.
* Flush.
* Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
* Live a balanced life - learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
* Take a nap every afternoon.
* When you go out in the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
* Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: the roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
* Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die. So do we.
* And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned - the biggest word of all - LOOK.

Robert Fulghum. All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Random House, 1989.

Small World

Tito Lyndon and the girls, summer 2006

When Steve and I first met, I was excited when he told me that he was from Pennsylvania.
I told him that my good friend Lyndon Soriano, was also from Pennsylvania
-- MARYLAND, Pennsylvania.
(I had never set foot in the US, and did not know - towns, cities or states)
Steve patiently explained that Maryland was beside Pennsylvania, and not in it.
I insisted that my friend was from Maryland, Pa.
Steve politely dropped the issue and we did not speak of it again until months later.

My friend Lyndon and I met in our freshman year in college.
He was born and raised in St. Mary's, PA.
We were always good friends and always kept tabs on each others life despite the fact that we did not always socialize in the same circles
(him being in that upper echelon fraternity and all).

For my 18th bday he saw the dismal 'tunes' situation of my home and so he
(and his brother, Mike) brought their stereo over for my party.
When we were 20, we set each other up on unsuccessful blind dates.
Two years later, he was kind enough to drive me to one memorable unsuccessful job interview
(I was grossly underweight and failed Cathay Pacific's weigh in, for flight attendants (!??)).
Soon after, he moved to California.
A few months after I met Steve, I got a phone call from Lyndon.
I told him that I was dating a guy from Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania.
Lyndon was shocked.
He said: "Ches, who would you know from Punxsutawney, Pa.???"
I said: "Steve ******"
Dead silence. Lyndon was stunned.
Incredibly, Lyndon described Steve.
As it turns out, St. Mary's, Pa. is 45 miles from Punsutawney, Pa.
Lyndon and Steve played in the same baseball and basketball leagues.
Mike (Lyndon's brother) and Steve guarded each other (in basketball) for many years.

Now that I live here, it is fairly common for someone to ask me:
"you're from the Philippines? Do you know so and so...who is also from there?"
(philippine pop. 85M and counting...(thanks benjie))
You know what I have learned?
It is not so ridiculous.
People's paths cross all the time.

As Malcolm Gladwell (author of The Tipping Point) wrote in an essay published in the New Yorker:
"In the late nineteen-sixties, a Harvard social psychologist named Stanley Milgram conducted an experiment in an effort to find an answer to what is known as the small-world problem, though it could also be called the Lois Weisberg problem. It is this: How are human beings connected? Do we belong to separate worlds, operating simultaneously but autonomously, so that the links between any two people, anywhere in the world, are few and distant? Or are we all bound up together in a grand, interlocking web?"
(Read the entire essay here.)

When daily encounters are treated with sincerity and time is taken to connect memories,
you'll find that the world is indeed small.


Postscript:

I got an email from Gino. Apparently, he chanced upon this blog.


The 'F' train, New York City 2003

Gino Tadiar. In Manila, we hung out in the late 80's and then we lost touch for the next 14 years. In September 2003, I hopped on a subway train, loaded with New Yorkers en route to work. After apologizing profusely to a woman, whose toe I had stepped on--I looked up and saw Gino.
(Understand, I did not even know that he had moved away from Manila.)
We stared blankly at each other before we errupted with a ripple of exclamatory greetings (read: scandalous).
The woman with the toe, was rather amused listening to our "small world"
experience and so she volunteered to take our picture before Gino's stop.

Another time this happened was at a
public beach in South Carolina.
Steve spotted a woman he identified as being Filipino (as is his gift).
He said, "there's a Filipino woman, why don't you talk to her."
I said, "Why, do you speak to all the Americans we see in Manila?" (not)
But then as the woman walked towards us, I realized that I in fact, knew her.
Lulay and I were friends from college.
She had moved to Chicago about the same time I had moved to here.
Steve snapped this photo, in amazement.

Bobby Menguito

Jeremy Guiab
I neglected to call due to a terrible hang over.

Shelby

Imelda Marcos

This is Imelda Marcos
(the wife of Philippine Dictator, Ferdinand Marcos).

"They call me corrupt, frivolous. I am not at all privileged.
Maybe the only privileged thing is my face. And corrupt?
God! I would not look like this if I am corrupt.
Some ugliness would settle down on my system."
-Imelda Marcos
(cited in Beatriz Romualdez Francia's Imelda: A Story of the Philippines)

The Marcos couple was in power the year before I was born and stayed in power until I was a sophomore in college.
We were trained from a very young age to hate the Marcoses
(and rightly so).
We actively participated in ballot box guarding during elections (when the dictator, pompously confident that he could rig the elections decided to allow elections),
We freedom marched, strung banners in support of ANY opposition, boycotted whatever we had to and started a noise barrage in our neighborhood to express outrage.

The other day, I got this picture from my friend, Aimee Alampay (Kowalak).
After her wedding celebration in the Philippines,
she and some of our other good friends bumped into Imelda.
(arrow pointing to her)

Liesl Lim, John,Jeff,Aimee,Imelda,Missy Jurado,Jojo,Mariza Gatmaitan &Jet Custodio
I showed Steve the photo and he said
"now why would they allow themselves to be photographed with her???"

I explained,
There is some charm to the psychopathic nature of Imelda that makes people forget for a minute who she is.

When I was 16, my family and I attended a Bolipata concert.
Imelda, a Bolipata Trio fan, was also there.
At the end of the concert, we were somewhat instructed to stay in our place until Imelda walked out surrounded by her 20 or so bodyguards.
Without any warning, my brother Peter, stepped onto the aisle and extended his hand.
I swear to God the entire concert hall froze.
There may have been some people that instinctively ducked down,
bodyguards with hands on their weapons and all--but Imelda, I hate to use the word regal--but,
she regally accepted this crazy man's attention and extended her hand graciously.
She exchanged a few words with him...before she was quickly escorted out.
We were stunned.
My siblings and I were just upset that Peter acted like a fan--
Our father on the other hand looked ashen, clutched his heart before berating his son with clenched teeth, not for honoring the woman,
but because he was frightened that the seemingly innocent gesture almost caused Peter his life.

It has been said many times that sociopaths are notoriously charming people.
Heck, I would have posed with her...and I am sure that Steve would have too.

Addendum to Imelda

February 2007 Vanity Fair Article on Imelda (Thanks Aimee)

Not uncomfortable at all

A King sized bed loses its effectiveness.
This picture was taken last night, after we had just come from a great evening at the home of
Heather and Dave.
A little history:
Heather and Steve used to be engaged at some point in their life.
Lucky for Dave and I, they called it off.
Coincidentally, we happen to share common friends.
(blame it on Katie)
So, here we are 16 years later, developing a friendship over dinner and a few beverages.
One might ask, why?
It is actually quite simple.
I've always enjoyed meeting old friends of Steve.
It allows me a little window into understanding Steve (complex person that he is) just a little bit more.
Plus, I think that certain people in his life somehow contributed to who he is today and so
when they happen to be fun, interesting and kind--I take it as a positive reflection.
This perplexes a few people.
Granted, it is probably not for everyone.
I believe that when the failed relationship is between two decent individuals who are in happy and stable marriages...then a friendship is possible.
But the friendship equation is clear: 2+2=4 .
All four people must be on board, otherwise it does not work.
And, unlike four humans (and a dog) on a king sized bed,
it is not uncomfortable at all.

Fourtship

For some shy children (like K and G), it is difficult to negotiate the social maze that comes with school.
In their quests for friendships, they often ask me how to make friends.
I offer few tips and try to facilitate with playdates when able.
But, I tell them that friendships need work.
Unfortunately, it does not stop at childhood.
In fact, it gets even harder as one reaches adulthood.

In my opinion, finding a friend as an adult, is much like finding a life partner.
When adults meet, there is fertile ground for a friendship to grow when there are shared experiences, common ground, and room to grow.
But how do you get the friendship seed planted?
Barring a cyclopsian countenance, it is a lot easier to meet people when you are in school, have a job outside of the home, or are active in the community.
But, having quit my job over a year ago, no furthering of studies in the offing, dismal church attendance and the propensity for hibernation--I realized I was in a wammer's pickle.

Solution: Fourtship.
Playdates, dining together, movies, phone conversations are all part of the friend courtship.
And once the acquaintanship has been established into a certain level of "friendship"
--I test the friendship's strength by introduction to my socially inept spouse.
I figure that if they can get past the fact that Steve is special, then the friendship is a keeper.

So, because K was in pre-school with her son, N
...my friendship with Becky got its start.
Becky has seen me through my rocky relationship
with Chuck E. Cheese.
She has rescued me from my children and brought them to places that I wouldn't
(The Zoo, Museums and the Science Center).
She has weathered my wishy-washiness...and
together with her husband Kelley, dragged me to amusement parks, carnivals and parks until I got the hang of getting past my own inertia to live life with my children.
Together, we've survived weekends away
(another litmus test of friendship), the stench/drool of my dog and MSG.

Making friends as adults is not simple.
But, if you put time and energy into it, you stumble upon an occasional gem.
I have.
Happy Birthday, Becky.

Appletini Induced Song

You're Whaaaat??? Tin Roof...Rusted. (Before the fall)

Time Flies

Blink and before you know it, 23 years has passed.
I have resolute plans to enjoy every stage of my children's life.
note to self: must practice unclenching my teeth in 2007.