If I Only Had One Day

It’s been slowly gnawing at me. That movie I saw last week. Then yesterday that article I read. The red stained face of my co-worker when the third year anniversary of her boyfriend’s death came and went. So many are being torn away from family by disease and leaving in their wake only heartbreak.

I wonder what it says about me, the way I would choose to spend my last day. I planned it from the morning to the end what I would do. Then I’ve sat there and thought. Why are some people so glaringly missing? Why did I choose that place over the other? What memories am I conjuring up hoping to relive by spending my last moments in these ways?

I’ve made some assumptions on my last day. One that it would be a gloriously hot summer day. Two that I would be healthy enough to do any physical activity I wanted without hesitation.

My day would be in Chicago. I smile, just writing it. The Chicago sized hole in my heart. My home. Even after living here eight years, it’s still not home. It will never be home. There is no place else I’d rather relive my favorite memories.

I would start the day at Walker Brothers. Where I used to host/cashier for years. We would order family style: Sizzling bacon, chocolate chippies with big globs of whipped cream, an apple pancake, the German pancake with extra lemon and powdered sugar, the challah French toast. My nose awakens recalling the scents, my mouth waters remembering.

Then we’d head to the beach. We’d build sandcastles and I would hope the Art Teacher wouldn’t accidentally pull down my bathing suit and then tackle me to the sand. We would frolic in the water playing chicken fight and 500.

For lunch we would go to my favorite restaurant, Tapas Barcelona, and order my favorite things. The mussels dipped in glorious melted butter. The snails perched atop of a fluffy piece of bread soaked in sauce. Pitchers of margaritas and sangria would flow. For dessert I would delight in my pistachio banana and ice cream.

We would go to the park next. Play ultimate Frisbee. Perhaps sit in a circle and play Mafia. Then when properly worn out we’d go bowling. They would make it cosmic, even though it was still relatively early in the day. For dinner we would dress up and drive down Lake Shore Drive. The music blasting, the summer breeze blowing through the slightly cracked open windows. I would press my forehead against the window and stare at the city ablaze in lights just like I did all those years ago.

We’d have dinner at the most expensive steak restaurant in town, order the best wine they had. We would laugh and talk about all the greatest times. All the best times. We would not talk about what I would miss; we would only recall what I had.

We would go to Navy Pier and ride the ferris wheel. I would keep my eyes open the entire time. Clutching the hand of who ever sat next to me.

Then with the wine still buzzing in our heads we would go out and play in the sprinklers at Northwestern just like we did that one glorious summer. We would run through the fields wet, muddy, the laughter burning our lungs. Then we would strip off our muddy garments and jump into the cooling waters of Lake Michigan.

Afterwards we would go out dancing. The room swirling, the beat pounding in my chest. We would dance and dance and dance until our feet gave out. Until the bars closed at 5am.

Then I would go home. I would get in my bed. With my dogs, my children, my husband and I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, and I wouldn’t need to wake up again because I had lived.

Written as a part of Just Write.

Things I Would Have Tweeted

Since Wisconsin seems to be a complete dead zone for 3G service I kept track in notes my mental tweets from the 6 hour drive to Chicago from Minnesota. I was accompanied only by my 4.5 year old, so it proved to be an entertaining drive.

9a-10:30 Pouring rain. No visibility. May die. #soloishroadtrip

10:45 I wish I was a boy and could pee while driving. #soloishroadtrip #chicagobound

11:42 (Lisbon) I’ve never had to pee so much in my whole life. Didn’t think I’d make it. #soloishroadtrip

11:51 (New Lisbon) I feel amazing. Best pee ever. #soloishroadtrip

11:57 (Mauston) MDs stop. “Mommy it’s okay sometimes it takes a long time” #soloishroadtrip

12:13 (insert expletives here) they (expletive) forgot my (expletive) coke!!

12:20 it’s tough to eat a big Mac while driving. #soloishroadtrip

12:43 “how do you make purple?”

12:44 “Um.. with the primary colors. Mmmm.. blue and red I think. Let’s call daddy.” #kindergartenfailure

1:15 Oh god why did I drink so much coke and smoothie?

1:28 Raining again. Good thing I don’t have to pee terribly. #sarcasm

1:48 (Ixonia) Petting zoo. Bathroom. Rain. No petting.

2:38 “Knock knock. Whose there? Refrigerator. Refrigerator who? Banana Peel”

2:47 Playing what I call “car tag.”  4 of us wanting to drive much faster than we should. Black corvette and Blue Cadillac (?) weaving in and out switching who’s the leader. Green Grand Caravan Taxi and I trying to keep up. #nospeedingticketyet

2:57 Waukegan 21 toll. No Cash. No Ipass. Note to self: pay later.

3:04 Lake Forest Oasis. #CheeseheadFree

3:13 Toll edens 24. Note to self: pay later.

3:22 Exit at Old Orchard!!

Detour to Party City to purchase additional bachelorette party supplies, and go the bathroom, yet again. 

3:49 Passing Cemetery ”Why are there so many dead people?”

Chicago Recap

Two weeks ago we went to Chicago for the MOH’s bridal shower. This involved driving 7 hours with two children. I’m certain that I complained the most. Somehow six people survived in my parents two bedroom condo without central air. I was slightly convinced that their window units were trying to melt us, but we lived to tell another tale.

My favorite conversation was when we drove off the highway and the H asked what that sound was.

I listened, smiled, and said, “That’s the sound of summer — cicadas”

Things I learned while I was there:

• Chicago moms are way thinner than Minnesota moms.
• Always keep tampons on hand.
• Never forget your camera.
• I miss my friends terribly, completely, and am always depressed when I come back to Minnesota.

Written as a part of Shell’s Summer Fun Show Off. Link up your Summer Fun for a chance to win prizes from Ubisoft!

 

Chicago Part Deux

This past weekend I ventured to Chicago, again, this time with the whole clan. We had been considering going down for my mom’s 50th for sometime, but hadn’t made a final decision as we had to assess money and the dog situation. In the end it came down to the fact that it’s her birthday and for my 50th birthday I would hope that there would be some sort of hoopla. Especially after she mentioned being kind of down about getting older, etc and how thinking about seeing Bear for his birthday was what she’d think about to make herself feel better. With that comment I knew we were making the right decision in coming. I told my dad we were coming and he was less excited than I had hoped. He was very unresponsive in his emails but he was also in LA for the All Star game so he was busy I suppose. But even after he got back he wouldn’t commit to what we should do on Friday night when we arrive. How we should surprise her, if I should make dinner at home, go out for dinner, etc.

Boarding the dogs was better than I had thought. We ventured out in a bonafide blizzard to check out the place before we made reservations. It had to have been the most frightening exciting drive of my entire life. It was a complete white out, we could barely see 10 feet in front of us. I had to stick my head out the window and try to see if we were still in a lane because the windshield wipers froze on the passengers side and we couldn’t see well through that window. We passed quite a few accidents and missed quite a few exits because we couldn’t really see the off-ramp. The most frightening part was probably when we stopped having a car to follow and it was just nothingness around us. Quite surreal actually. A strange part of me loved the whole we-could-die-at-any-moment-ness of it.

The kennel was like the shelter where we got Elia. It was just metal cages stacked on top of each other and all the dogs were barking and it smelled of urine. Very unlike the one other boarding experience we had with Athens in which he had his own private wall papered room with a bed, tv, and a live feed we could watch him online from. It was also significantly less expensive than where we boarded Athens. For two dogs we were still paying less than just for boarding the 1 dog. In the end when we picked them up they were fine and the attendant said they had a good time, were super playful and full of personality. Cost me $124, but it was worth it. Not sure if I’ll be boarding them regularly by any means, but nice to know the option is around.

The drive wound up taking 7.5 hours, as I should have realized with two kids. Honestly I think the kids fared better than I did. I was dying to get there by the end especially because I was remarkably uncomfortable since I have to sit rather close up because of how far back the rear facing car seat goes. My legs needed to be half a foot shorter to be comfortable. The H also drove slower than I would have liked seeing as how I usually cruise in the 80-85 range to Chicago. But you know he was obeying the law and keeping his family safe, so understandable. Driving through Cheeseheadland we did pass quite a few protesters on bridges over the highway in the Milwaukee area which was interesting to see. Also, driving through the Dells has me extraordinarily desiring going to the Dells because its been more than 4 years since the last time I went (when newly pregnant with Bear) and I feel like Bear would really enjoy it. I’m tentatively planning a Dells excursion this summer. Thinking my parents could meet us there since its a nice halfway point between Chicago and Minnesota.

When we arrived at my parents house I was determined to surprise my mom beyond simply sitting in the living room when she arrived. However, things continuously didn’t go according to plan. I called her around 7 when she was getting off of work under the guise that I was feeding Bella and calling to chat. I tried to get an sense of when she’d be arriving, but she was stopping at a store on her way home so my plans were follied. So then I decided that Bear and I would wait in the elevator on the first floor so when she came home and opened the elevator we’d be there waiting. Unfortunately, she took the stairs. She found out we were there by seeing all of our stuff and then seeing the H and Bella in the living room playing video games with my dad. They needed to ring the elevator and send us up to the 3rd floor. Needless to say she was excited and surprised but it wasn’t remotely what I had planned.

Since my dad refused to plan anything, and he doesn’t take direction well so I didn’t feel like I could take control, we wound up having dinner at my parent’s house that my mom cooked. Then we watched The Social Network when the kids went to bed. I should say I watched it with my parents as the H fell asleep shortly into the movie. He always thinks I watch all these movies without him, but what really happens is that he falls asleep during 75% of the movies we watch. The next day we decided to go swimming, which I had the foresight to think about and packed the H and Bear’s swim trunks. I did however forget Bella’s swim diapers so when we went out to Baby Gap to get her suit that I had my eye on we had to pick those up as well as a swimsuit for me. I only own bikinis and the one I brought was obscene. Even if I were to ignore the rolls going on in the belly area I’m pretty sure the chest area was not family appropriate. And then I got two giant numbered balloons – a 5 and a 0 – despite the hefty price tag for a piece of plastic filled with helium. Finally we arrived at the pool (literally like 5 hours of planning for 45 minutes of swimming) But everyone had a great time so it was worth it.

That night we went out to dinner at Merle’s which was amazing. And then after my parents left for a gala they were attending I had friends come over and see the baaaaby.

Which became an ordeal. The H found all of this strangely amusing as this could never happen with our friends in Minnesota and yet other than being irritated it was completely in keeping with the norm for my Chicago group of friends. And reminded me of the aspects of high schoolness that I hate. Mostly because the immaturity of what happened completely imbues high school.

I had sent an email inviting all my friends to my house between 8 and 8:30 to see the baby (which they had never met) and to see Bear (which they’ve seen briefly and infrequently through the years). Everyone had a very positive response in coming and was excited. Quite a few people expressed moving things around in order to be able to come. Then the idea of going bowling afterwords was introduced. So the new plan became 8:30 my house and then bowling somewhat nearby. At around 8 the Ex-Fratboy called to say that he was in the car with the Future Porn Director and waiting for the Negotiator to come out. He wondered if it was really worthwhile for them to drive up or would the kids be asleep. I told him Bella was asleep but we’d wake her and that Bear was about. He said he’d call back. A bunch of the girls showed up between 8:30 and 8:45 and then it became apparent that the boys were in fact not going to make it. Bear entertained all of us by playing “school” he was the teacher and we were all the kids and he taught us all about dinosaurs. I got a text from The Porn Director that we should meet them at the bowling alley and let them know when we’re leaving. I wrote back and let him know that we were getting taught by Bear and it’d be awhile.

It became around 9:45 when Bear finally went down and I briefly woke up Bella against her (and the H’s will) and she grumpily saw everyone. Then the discussion turned to not bowling. Two people would go, but didn’t want to. Two people were going home no matter what. And one person wanted to eat. I knew that if I tried to talk to the Negotiator he’d yell at me and try to convince me to go. I’m not very good at standing my own and he’s very good about peer pressuring/guilting people into doing what he wants. I texted them telling them we wanted to stay in Evanston and get something to eat. He called at 10:15 and spoke with Ex-Gym who explained to him the situation. For basically an hour we went back and forth with texts and phone calls trying to figure this out. The boys were relentless in attesting that we were breaking the plan and unwilling to come to Evanston to eat. We pointed out that they broke the plan from the get go when they didn’t show up at 8:30 to see the kids. This point was ignored. In the end we said we’re going to Chili’s in Evanston hope you can meet us there. My last phone call with the Negotiator in which he continued to berate me ended in a way that made me feel like they were in fact going to show up at the restaurant and meet us. Then I got this text:

we don’t feel like we’d be able to hang out without feeling upset. XX is going home, ZZ is moving on with his night.

WTF? These are 3 grown men. Really? Really? How old are we? They were too upset that we didn’t want to go bowling to hang out with us. My other friend the Art Teacher ended work at 11 pm and drove the 30 minutes to meet us at Chili’s for an hour before we went home for the night. It was worth it to her to spend at least a little time with me while I was briefly in town to come out. But the boys who had known for over an hour the new plan were completely unwilling to accommodate anyone’s wants/needs besides their own. It was absurd. It also put quite a taint on the evening from my perspective and I still haven’t spoken to the 3 of them since. =/

Aside from the drama it was a great (albeit super brief) trip to Chicago!

Loyalty, Friends, and All that Jazz

So three separate things had me thinking about this post so I took it as a sign that I should probably write about it. First was a series of hallways discussions, lunches and happy hours with my fellow minions at work. Second was one of my good friends post which mentioned outgrowing our high school friends, and third was an article from Marie Claire (March 2010) about best friends.

Here’s the thing: growing up I often said that my friends were more my family than my family ever was. I think that was true up until the point in which I started my own family. As an adult I think my father and I are better than we have ever been. I like to say that in his old age (all of almost 50) he’s become nice. What I really think is the fact that he’s not a very good father, but a good friend and as an adult I don’t really need him to be a father. My mother and I have always had our ups and downs. I don’t have any other family in the US (except an estranged Aunt and her family in Florida, but we don’t speak about them) so those two people were basically my only family. Which is why growing up my friends meant the world to me. I formed a very close attachment to them. I fully admit it was likely slightly one sided because I needed them in a way that they didn’t need me. I was very dependent on them and I looked up to them.

Leaving them for college was hard especially because the friends I formed in Minnesota could never truly measure up to my friends in Chicago precisely for the reasons above. That and because when away from someone its easier to forget their faults and remember only the good things. Even though I have my own family and don’t need my Chicago friends in the same way that I used to they hold significant nostalgic value for me. They represent my childhood. They were there for me throughout good and bad and even as we continue to live further apart and are on very different life paths I can’t imagine not being their friends anymore.  When I went to Chicago this past weekend for my birthday I was truly struck by how much they wanted to spend time with me, wanted my birthday celebration to be great, and even split my meal amongst themselves. I appreciated it on a level I don’t think I was able to articulate to them. It made me realize that despite the fact that I might only see them a few times a year and rarely talk to some of them in between they are still there for me if I were ever to need them. And I love that. I have somewhat in my head always played the martyr thinking that I was the only one who would go out on the ledge for my friends because I am so deeply loyal to them and it was nice to see that its not as one sided as I had thought.

So with that in mind it saddened me to think that one of them felt like she was outgrowing the rest of us. This has already in my mind happened twice throughout the years. Oddly enough not to me. Both the New Godmother and to some extent the BF have outgrown and left our core group of friends. I’ve made a special effort to make sure that our friendships stayed intact, which was easy considering that we had always been very good friends and have more in common with one another than the rest of our friends. I realize that this is going to continue to happen, we’re going to move further apart, and outgrow each other and since no one but me sends Christmas cards anyway I feel like eventually we’ll be reduced to mere facebook friends who we once knew. I hate that.

Yes, I feel in many ways that if I wanted to I could outgrow my friends. I’m married. I have two kids. I live in another state. I have a career. Other than memories I have little in common with a lot of them. My friends in Minnesota are all married, engaged or in a serious relationship. I don’t have any single friends. Some of them are thinking of starting families. They own property. They’re all in full time traditional jobs working towards specific career goals. I can relate to all of that. When I go to Chicago its a whirlwind of fun  having dinner at 10pm, going to a bar that doesn’t really open until 1 am and stays open until 5am. Its a life so different than mine here. I love going there and feeling like I’m 22 again. In some ways I feel like some of them think they’re still 22 when in reality we’re all closer to 30 than 20. But I don’t care. I love them just the way they are even if its not the path I would have chosen for myself or for most of them. I expected more of them to be married and all of them to have more stable careers being some of the smartest, talented, ambitious people I know.

I realize that while I have much more in common with my friends in Minnesota than I do with most of my Chicago friends I don’t feel that intense loyalty. I think its because they’re family and no matter what you always love your family.