Transitions and Gratitude

With so many changes on the horizon, things have been crazy in the W household. That's not news for anyone who knows us or reads my posts. But after a rather terrifying time all around (financially, emotionally, and just general life suckiness) things are finally starting to level out. It's far from over... in fact, it's just beginning... but lately we've been able to breathe our first sigh of relief in a long time. And I can't put into words how amazing that is. Never again will I take even the little things for granted.

Mr. W turned 32 on September 25. It was a Saturday and he just wanted a mellow, lowkey day... and a giant steak. We went to the Italian Festival at a local Italian market and stuffed our faces with spaghetti and Mr. W's free birthday cannoli. Then we went to happy hour at a martini bar... he had a Fillibuster and I had an Obama's Mama (the place is called the Oval Office. I was eyeing the Palin's Panties martini but the name was too much of a turnoff). It was a beautiful day and we got to sit outside and just enjoy the afternoon sunshine... and, sadly, the noise and diesel smell of all the oversized trucks driving by us. Oh, Idaho.

Wine tasting at our favorite beer and wine shop was next and we got to sample a variety of Northwest wines... the best in the country, in my opinion. On our way inside, Mr. W found a $10 bill lying in the parking lot. I said it was his birthday money and we hoped it belonged to the loudmouth man in the wine bar who insisted everything he didn't like was "crap." Oh, Idaho. After renting a movie (nothing in the theaters sparked our interest) we headed to Idaho's infamous Wolf Lodge steakhouse where Mr. W got his giant steak. Then it was home to watch the movie. We soon realized we'd already seen it and it wasn't worth watching again (don't rent movies after wine tasting), so instead we watched Katy Perry on SNL while eating our ice cream cake. I'm obese now, but it was so much fun just hanging out with the man I love. I know it didn't top his 30^th birthday in Cancun, but the ice cream cake alone made it a fierce competitor.

Since returning from the road trip I've had the best time getting to know my new friends The Golden Girls. One of them, who I will refer to as my little firefly because of her favorite vodka and her feisty attitude, recently lost her father and stepmother in a house fire. It's awful and I honestly have no idea how to be a good friend when something like this happens, but I have tried. The Golden Girls came together and planned a 30^th birthday celebration for her and other than almost killing her (never mind how) we all had a great time. Her dad had planned to take her to Vegas for her birthday and unfortunately he passed away just weeks beforehand. Immediately upon finding that out, I declared that we'd find a way to go to Vegas with her. I was much further into the depths of poverty than I am now and had no idea how, but lack of money has never stopped me from a Vegas trip before (hence all the poverty).

Well, that Vegas trip is happening at the end of October and I couldn't be more excited (except if our Golden Girl Blanche could come, but she promised to make the next one). Our firefly is covering entirely too much of the trip which has been the ultimate test in my willingness to accept others' generosity, but I know why she's offering. I know because if I was in that situation I'd do the exact same thing. And I'm so damn grateful I've vowed to make this the best trip to Vegas anyone has ever had in the history of all time and fortunately, I know the city well and will be able to do so. Vegas or no Vegas, I'm extremely grateful these women came into my life. It's going to be the best time we'll never remember.

The only thing is, as much as we're going to make our firefly feel like a rock star in Vegas (and we are)... it can't make up for the loss of her father. I'm so fortunate that I still have both of my parents with me and, though we had some seriously rough times in the past, I'm close to them and we have a pretty good relationship. My dad turned 54 on Monday and I sent a card and called him. He asked if he qualified for a senior discount yet and I reminded him he has one more year. It was a short call. He was waiting for my mom's famous lasagna to come out of the oven and I was about to make dinner for us. I wished him a happy birthday, told him I loved him and hung up wondering how anyone gets through the pain of that loss. And it just killed me then, as it does now, that our firefly won't ever be able to do that with her dad again. I know death is a part of life, but she's already lost a brother and numerous other people... and recently. I truly believe that death isn't the end for us and her dad is still watching over her, but I know that doesn't lessen the pain of such a loss. By the way, I kind of hope he turns a blind eye when we're in Vegas because I refuse to let her act like a lady the entire time. Just sayin.

The reality is that everything in life is temporary and we should not take one thing, one moment, or one person for granted. I'm currently somewhat estranged from my little brother for good reason and I still texted him on the day he moved to Oklahoma to tell him I love him. Anger, hurt, and pride aside, he's still my brother and when I love someone that love is unconditional. Even when we're hit with bad news, tragedy happens, life hands us a big bag of lemons all wrapped up in a shit sandwich... we still do have things to be grateful for. We have people who care about us even when we don't think we do. Life goes on and it may never be the same again, but it will be worth living and worth living well. Except that I'm not allowed to eat ice cream cake again until after Vegas. Hold me to that.

Crossroads

Crossroads are a bitch. Whether you embrace change, loathe it or are simply indifferent, the part where you’re standing still with two roads in front of you unsure of which path to take is just no fun for anyone. Yet, here I am.

I joined this community in early 2009 to write about my relationships. I’ve got a really crazy bunch of friends, family, acquaintances and one hell of a husband, so I figured I’d never run out of writing material. And I haven’t. Whether it’s a heart-wrenching essay about why I’ll never share a drink with my father to a hilarious recap of my drunken Vegas bachelorette party antics, PNN has been the place for me. Last week I lived two PNN posts waiting to happen. The first was one of my newest (and most awesome) friends’ 30^th birthday extravaganza, a night none of us will soon forget. Actually, that friend has a blog and you should read the recap in her own words (AFTER this post so you can focus on it and laugh!), because it’s hilarious… and, by the way, Mr. W was the “one guy” swimming in a sea of hot females that night, he’ll have you know:

http://sherryrosemiller.blogspot.com/2010/09/heres-to-turning-30.html

The other amazingness took place a few days later when Mr. W and I loaded up Butters the minivan and headed to Oregon, where we fished with my parents in their boat for a day and then spent two wonderful days with G and her awesome boyfriend. It was overcast and a little rainy in Seaside, but that did nothing to spoil the wonderful time we had. This makes me feel a little better about our impending move to Seattle, where I know it will be overcast much of the time. And can I just say, I absolutely adore G’s boyfriend. He’s this tall, skinny, muscular guy who is always happy and eats all the time. He also happens to work in a grocery store which means he finds the coolest food and wine you never knew you needed and loved. I don’t think I went more than two hours without eating the entire time, which is a successful vacation if you ask me.

And yet… I go to write the posts, and I can’t. And you all know I love writing as much as chocolate. I hate to ask this, because when I like something, I’m extremely loyal to it. This is probably why I’ve been watching the same TV shows since the beginning of time and make my massage therapist give me massages even though technically he isn’t running that business anymore. I’m loyal, but I must ask it… what in the hell happened to PNN, and where is it going?

Remember last spring when nearly every day you could count on a post from one of our many talented writers? Remember when comments on posts would break your Blackberry and people were joining like crazy? Girls’ Nights Out?  I'm not picking on anyone who has left the site or rarely posts anymore. I’m just noticing that there’s been a mass exodus of talent. Some members of this site write professionally, some don’t, and some got their inspiration to start writing from our encouragement (which is amazing). But whatever their reasons, they were here and they were active. It seems that these days most of those who do desire to write professionally have launched blogs elsewhere or gone on to pursue other writing jobs.  But here I am, still cranking out the posts about the awesome crazies in my life once a week. I’ve put it off as long as possible, but I can’t help but ask… where is it going?

I fall into the first category. I do write professionally and I’m one of the insane idiots who plan to continue to do it as a job. Obviously, that’s not what PNN is about. I signed up to be a Relationship Blogger but I’ve never expected it to make me a fortune or earn my trillions of adoring fans. I was just getting started with my writing and left no stone unturned. PNN was a stone I liked, so I kept it. And in the process, not only did I fine tune my writing skills, I was welcomed into a community of incredible people. I freaking love you guys. I’ve met some of you in person and I feel blessed because each of you I’ve met I have absolutely adored. It wasn’t like an awkward first-time meeting; it was like seeing an old friend. And that’s amazing. It’s something I don’t want to give up.

Still, I’m at a point now where I have to be a little bit pickier about where I do my writing. I’ve got this blog and a blog at www.lifethroughtheseblueeyes.com that I don’t update as often as I should because I’m not one of those lucky writers that has a niche. I’ve got a wide variety of interests and I like writing about all of them. That blog is really random and lately I’ve been thinking it needs some work. I mean, people visit blogs for a reason. You all know that if you read The Bloggess you’ll laugh until you pee your pants. Our lovely Laurie Boris provides fascinating articles on health, nutrition and overcoming illness. GoingGreen will blow your mind with her scratch cooking recipes with foods you’ve never thought of combining but you bet taste really good. I’ve been looking at my PNN blog, looking at my Blue Eyes blog, and reading lots of other blogs and thinking… how can I do it? How can I create a niche and form one ultra mega Superblog?

Then, a few days ago, I found this:

www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com

This chick is absolutely hilarious, has a large following, and actually supports herself through her blog and part-time writing. All she does is tell epic stories from her youth and her present-day life and illustrate them with hysterical crudely drawn comics. And I thought, hey… I could do that. Not literally that, of course, but in high school I used to pass notes to P in which I depicted my day with pictures of stick figures. She loved them. I’ve got stories, some of which are shared here and some that are still waiting to be told. Can’t I try and be one of those people who actually blogs about her life… and people actually read it?  Maybe I could keep the Blue Eyes domain name but turn it into a series of stories.

But I don’t want to lose this community. I feel people slipping away, and then we got hit with an all out spam war from a bunch of assholes in Asia which didn’t help. If PNN was a real place, it would be a big, huge house. People would be sitting on the porch talking politics, people in the kitchen would be trying out new recipes, a group in the master bedroom would be trying on dresses and talking about the latest trends… and then everyone would gather in the big living room around the fireplace and talk to each other. Because that’s what we are, a big group with very different interests who all hang out at the same house. When I picture Blogger, it’s more like a neighborhood or town… you can still hang out with everyone, but you have to walk or drive to their own unique house. And it doesn’t have a porch. And now I’m rambling. But do you all see what I mean? I don’t want to lose this sense of community we all can agree we have here, but I also want to prioritize my writing and do what’s going to work. Is anyone having similar thoughts? Join me at the crossroads, then. It’s a bitch.

Weekend with Baby Yum

“I feel like I’m leaving my plain, boring wife to go visit my exotic, beautiful mistress,” I said to Mr. W as I packed clothes, my laptop and baby gifts in preparation for a much-needed weekend in Seattle. “Except, it’s no longer the mistress I visit when things with my wife get dull. It’s the mistress I’ve fallen for and plan to leave my wife for as soon as I get the money.” It was a terrible analogy, but it was true. I was always excited to visit Seattle, but this would be the first visit since we’d decided it would be our home.

Sydney had asked months before if I could fly over and help her with baby Liam while her husband went to Europe for work. Before we knew it, Labor Day weekend had arrived and I cashed in my free Southwest flight (Rapid Rewards paying off at last) to take on the role of Auntie Jess. I hadn’t seen Sydney since April and even with our busy schedules, it was unacceptable to both of us. She met me at the airport, Liam sleeping blissfully in the backseat of the car. As we sped by the Puget Sound, the sun was setting over the water as a ferry drifted by. My mistress was seducing me and it was working.

Sydney’s friend’s daughter is too young to correctly say “Baby Liam” so she calls him Baby Yum. I can honestly say that her description is accurate. This kid is good… and I mean the kind of good where you spend an entire weekend with him and you still actually want to have a baby. That has never happened to me before. He’s five months old, which is the age where you get away with everything, and he’s still an angel. When we got back to her house, Sydney made us salads while I opened a bottle of Riesling. Baby Yum napped while we caught up on life and decided which movie to watch.

“I feel like we should walk to Safeway and get another bottle of wine and some M&Ms,” Sydney said at 8 PM. See why we are best friends? Liam happily went into his stroller and charmed everyone at the store. Or maybe they were looking because Sydney pointed out that my bra-covered boob had found its way out of my dress… it’s hard to say. We stocked up on wine and chocolate before going back to the house, devouring them, and sleeping through the night. Liam woke up only for a 5 AM bottle and went right back to sleep. I don’t blame him… I get hungry at 5 AM, too.

The next day we walked Greenlake, busy with runners, walkers, kids and dogs all trying to get in a workout before the drizzle turned into a full-fledged rain storm (it never did).  Every time a screaming baby strolled by us, we complimented Liam on his pleasant demeanor. He did get a little stabby after our walk, but if I had to be in a carseat and stroller that long, I’d probably get stabby too. That night, I made baked shrimp in a tomato feta sauce and spinach salad, followed by more M&Ms and wine. Liam, clearly tired of his mommy and Auntie Jess babbling incessantly, passed out immediately.

Sunday was sunny, beautiful and perfect, the kind of Seattle day out-of-towners say never happens but the locals know happens more than you’d think. We joined our wonderful friend Marica for brunch, where it hit me that our infamous brunches will soon be able to happen more than twice a year. As we studied the menu, Marica and I discussed our strange food tendencies which are very similar.

“I made my peace with meat,” I said. “But I still don’t eat it very often.”

“Same here,” she said. “I eat it now, but not much. And I really can’t get into chicken.”

“Me either! Or pork. God, you’d never catch me eating pork.”

“Ew, definitely not.”

“And I still like to eat pretty healthy overall.”

“Oh, me too! I feel so much better.”

The waitress arrived and asked to take our orders.

“I’ll have the Eggs Benedict with bacon instead of ham,” the three of us said simultaneously. Hey, what good are food rules if every now and then you don’t break every single one of them in a single morning? No regrets. It was delicious.

There are a lot of things about Spokane/Coeur d’Alene I’ll miss. But I found most of those things, or better versions, in Seattle over the weekend. This transition is going to be tough, even if it is for the best. We’re in for a rough road ahead and life problems don’t fix themselves with a new zip code. I realize that. But with all the good things Seattle has to offer, along with Marica, Sydney and Baby Yum, I think we’ll be just fine.