I'm Not Sleeping

A couple of weeks ago I was trying to go to sleep in Kay's bed in Southern Cal. That day I had flown across the country, gone to our reunion, out to dinner...just a very long, long day. I was so tired I couldn't sleep.

At approximately (or exactly?) 9:35pm I heard the familiar pop pop pop sizzle of the Disneyland fireworks. It almost made me cry - it was so familar and yet made me feel so old and like I had gotten so far away from who I used to be.

Sleeping in that little girl's bed, I wondered if she paid attention to those sounds of her childhood and if they were things she would remember later in her life. Will she always live in the shadow of the Matterhorn or will she explore someplace else where the night doesn't explode at precisely 9:35 every night?

No One Ever Is To Blame

From Kim after my last visit to CA: Hey there - According to Kay, YOU left fruit roll up wrappers on her floor, an empty Capri Sun container and a plate with chips and salsa!!!!!!!! LOL! LOL!

From me: That is SO funny -- when we were driving to the airport you said something about her not eating in her room and I thought -- then I wonder how that plate and cups got in there? They've been there since at least Monday -- but I didn't do it!

So...is it wrong to rat out your Godchild? I felt guilty about it for a week.

Yo Ho (A Pirate's Life For Me)

This week I am becoming a college student again. Starting Wednesday I will be an East Carolina University Pirate. I got a booklet in the mail for new students that included a 10 item list of what to do (and not do) at ECU football games. Apparently, I am supposed to hate NC State (sorry Beth) even though the feeling isn't mutual. There were cheers listed that I'm supposed to learn and traditions to upload. It was a fun reminder of all the other things you learn that aren't in books.

I'm "attending" online so this will be a lot different than my days at Fullerton and Sonoma. No roommates, no dining halls...no ditching class, no one to pass notes with in class. Should be interesting -- or at least as interesting as accounting can be.

Rainy Days and Mondays

I really did have the best of intentions. I was going to get up this morning, go to the gym and try running on the treadmill (in general, I do not run). I was going to sleep in a little, get there at 10 and do something until 11, then come home and tackle my day. But you see, early this morning there were rumbles of thunder, and then the pitter-patter of raindrops. There was a dog snuggled up next to me who is afraid of the rain. It is one of those mornings where, had it been a weekday, I would have thought it was a lovely day to stay home in bed. So I am.

Besides, somehow in this day I need to finish my laundry, make a couple of necklaces, run to the pet store, paint my toes, write about 10 emails, upload some pictures, start making piles of things to pack for Vegas (work, not play), watch the Olympics (since when do I like basketball?), watch last week’s Mad Men, watch this week’s Mad Men, and tackle the pile of work I brought home from the office. Isn’t that enough running?

Wake me up when it’s Monday. I’m going back to bed.

Photograph

Look at this photograph

Every time I do it makes me laugh

So I worried for nothing (of course). I think we all did. We spent an afternoon laughing at our former selves, the boys we used to like and gave little snapshots of who we are now. Living in NC, single, job (why can't my job have an easier name???). That's all. That's enough.

It was amazing how everyone was really the same. I didn't go to my 10 year reunion but after this weekend I think it's likely I will go to my 20th in a few years. It was just one day, but it was one day that hopefully reconnected the threads of my past and my present, and maybe those threads will reach into the future. I go back to CA often enough that I should be able to keep in touch, though it is harder from 3000 miles away (everything is).

I don't know if it's my only-childness, or my nomadic childhood, or my horrible friend-keeping skills, but it was astonishing to me that anyone remembered anything about me at all. It's completely irrational -- I remember so many details about other people it's completely normal that they would have to remember me too. It's just that I've been gone so long and was there for such a short time...it just seems like it would be forgettable. But a couple of the girls remembered my car that smelled like maple syrup, and singing Debbie Gibson songs, and there were pictures of me that I've never seen, and the core group of girls who I spent several years with were all just who I remembered them to be. I'm so glad I made the effort -- it was so worth it.