Monthly Archives: June 2013

Butch and Sundance

butch and sundance

I suspect there are millions of people on this planet who can say the following sentence with absolute conviction.
I have a best friend.
So what makes it any different when I say it?  Well, of course it’s because I have an exceptional best friend.
Yes, I am fully aware that we who claim to have a best friend believe we have an exceptional best friend. . .isn’t that kind of the point?  I mean look at the adjective before the word friend. . .best.
But what happens when you put the word friend next to this word best?
The meaning may be changing a little, no?  Tweaking just a bit here or there. . .because I imagine for each one of us that word best takes on a whole new meaning when we apply it to our own friend.  And these friends could be any shape or size, male or female…some people might even tell you their pet is their best friend, but for me, that is not the case.A best friend, no matter who or what they are and where or when they enter your life, is nothing less than a gift from the gods. That one person in your life you are absolutely capable of living without, but would never choose to. That one person who knows your foibles and graces, all your deep dark secrets, what you look like when you’re heartbroken or so very manically happy. That one person who if had been born your sibling, you would despise each other into oblivion, but through the beauty of chance has become your true sister. The one person in all the world you’re not afraid of what they think of you because you can show this person your most horrid self and there is no judgment, only love and support, and more than likely a goodly bit of teasing.
This friend could be a sibling, aunt or uncle, parent or child even. . .or it could be a girl you met one day sitting at a lunch table in a high school cafeteria.
Which brings us finally to my best friend. I did meet her when I was a senior in high school where we did sit at the same lunch table with a crazy rag-tag eclectic group of people, some of whom I can’t even remember now. We didn’t start out as best friends then, we just knew each other and enjoyed making fun of each other and those around us.
It wasn’t until after first semester of college that we became best friends. The strange thing about it was it was instantaneous!  I found her one night quite by accident, sitting on the sofa in the living room at my future husband’s. Without a word or any kind of plan we became best friends that very night and the rest is. . .well, I guess you could call it history. A long sordid history to be sure.

My best friend and true soul sister, has the most beautiful blue eyes, which she has in turn, given to her little daughter. Her wicked sharp sense of humor which can slay at the drop of a hat, is a double edged sword. For those who cannot grasp the artful quality of it, there is a serpent’s sting about it that undermines the brilliance. This ability to amuse and wound equally just might be my favorite thing about her, even when the barbs might be directed at me. If we cannot laugh at ourselves, how can we learn to laugh at all?
The other side of this strong worded and willed woman is a less than sure soul. My initial desire is to take her soul in my hands and hold it like a baby bird, to croon sweetly to it and keep it safe. Which is strange, because her actions create the illusion of one who is a protector, though as fiercely protective as she is I have found she has always been in need of being protected herself. That is one way we fit so perfectly together. . .we have been able to nurture the other and be nurtured in return without compromising either one’s dignity.
She is the only person I know who has the same strange ability to store and recall countless bits of useless trivia as me. Actually I know many people who can recall bits of trivia…but everyone seems to have their niche, their own special topic. We just store random facts. One of our favorites is the following and it goes a little something like this: Chinatown in Washington DC has the largest single span Chinese arch in the world. We know this because we spent a fair amount of time in Chinatown shopping for supplies to throw a “Chinese Take-Out” party.
No one cares about that arch. No one really listens to us when we relay that very cool fact…but it’s our fact and we like it.

We like to think of ourselves as outlaws. . .I’m Butch Cassidy and she’s the Sundance Kid. We’re not really outlaws. . .that’s our fantasy us. We’re just us. We’re just regular girls, however “outlawish” we want to pretend to be.
We like to say and do outrageous things for the sheer pleasure of it and sometimes simply for the shock value. Just to see how much we can rock the boat without actually falling out. And we have done seriously stupid things when it comes to boat rocking. . .sometimes I’m amazed to find there is still a boat for us to be in.
There are people who will tell you that she is a bad influence on me. I suspect there are people who say the same thing to her too.
I don’t really believe that. I don’t really like it either, what gives anyone the right to judge our friendship?
What about the times she is the only sane person I know? What about the time she drove panic stricken for two hours after not hearing from me for thirty-six hours to find me in my bed so miserable I couldn’t get up? That time I know she thought something really bad because when I woke to find her sitting on my bed with tears in her eyes, and as I lie there curled on my side looking silently up at her our tears spilled and mixed together so that when they landed on the soft cotton pillow we couldn’t have known which were hers and which were mine, but they all smelled exactly the same way, a combination of relief and joy.
What about the time the whole world closed in on her and I was the only person who loved her in exactly the way she needed? Without judgment, without irony, with just my heart opened to her when she needed to be loved more than any other time in her life.
So I believe the naysayers should simply. . .fade away.

We have always said we each have one half of the same brain. And for a long time it was like that, finishing each others sentences, thinking identical thoughts, knowing intrinsically what the other needed at any given time. But then I did the unthinkable! I packed up my whole life, my half of our precious brain and moved it all five hundred miles away. The disappointment and pain were palpable. She never said a word, she was supportive and tried to look at it as the same adventure I did. She was good, but the sense I had betrayed our friendship was overwhelming me even though I was so excited to begin the new life.
It was hard at first, the not being twenty minutes away from each other when we wanted a glass of wine after work, or to go shopping, or even just to sit on the couch together and watch a movie we’d both seen nine thousand times. But here’s the thing about being so far apart, it made us stronger and in so many ways, healthier. We could no longer take the other for granted. There is not as much time together in the same physical space, but we’ve embraced technology and spend great amounts of time emailing, texting and talking on the phone. We approached our friendship with more effort and commitment since I moved. We tried harder and make it more special. We have to make each time we see the other count for more. Sometimes when see each other, its like the recharging of a battery, sitting on the sofa in our jammies sharing music from one computer to the other all day long. Other times its just going as hard and fast as we can, like the weekend we spent shopping and drinking martinis from the moment we woke until we fell exhausted into sleep after a midnight movie, only to get up and do it all over again.
I worry about the time and distance…that it did create a bit more distance emotional distance, not just physical distance…especially recently, since I began seeing YBW. It was hard for her, to feel like someone had become more important to me than she. Of course that isn’t the case…there will never be another human being who is truly a part of my soul the way this Sundance girl is.

She has seen me through every trial, every bit of fear and sadness. Through all my joys, and there have been many. I have hurt her so deeply, as she has me, but we heal and become stronger. We become better people and in turn, better friends. She has taught me the value of having that one person who, no matter what, will stick with you when all the others run screaming for the hills.
And really, what more could I ask for?

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Underwood!

Thing 2's Underwood

Thing 2 found this gorgeous typewriter while we were thrift store browsing today.
I heard, “Mommy!! Come quick!”
When I arrived at the sound of her voice I saw her…hands hovering over the keys, body nearly vibrating with excitement. “Look at THIS!” She said to me.
“OHMYGOD!” Said I, “do you know what this is?”
“A typewriter.” (Like, DUH.)
“Not just any typewriter! Hemingway wrote on an Underwood! And Fitzgerald! And Harper Lee!! Oh my God, (insert Thing 2’s name) this is amazing! I want it!!”
“Too bad Mommy, I found it and I call dibs.”

Thing 2’s birthday is next month, she will be 16…for less than $50 birthday came early for this young lady.
We brought it home, (Damn that thing is heavy!) she set it up and said, “I’m a finally a real writer.” I can hear the clickity clack of the keys from the other room as I write these words.
She just called out, “thank you so much, Mommy!”
“You are so welcome, baby!”

My heart is near bursting!

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

sixteen books in five minutes

With my books packed in boxes I realized the only book I have to read at the moment is the narcolepsy-inducing economics textbook…while I’m required to read that this school term, it isn’t the sort of thing I want to read before bed or take into the tubby. I was longing for something to change my point of view for even just a moment, something I could become a part of for a while…leave this reality and tag along in some other one just long enough to give my brain a rest.
So I tried to do that from memory, I’ve been participating in certain book realities for many years. It wasn’t the same though. Books are a tactile experience for me…I enjoy experiencing books with every one of my senses…yep, even taste, gotta lick my finger to turn a page every once in a while.

A curious thing happened, the failed book from memory experiment caused me to think of books I especially love, and why I love them.
So, I decided to list the first books that came to me, the ones that have had the most impact or influence on my life, the ones I loved as a child and continue to love as a grown up.
I gave myself five minutes to list what came to me and this is what I wrote:

Outside Over There
The Secret of the Strawbridge Place
The Secret Garden
The Bell Jar
The Great Gatsby
Sense and Sensibility
Dancing on My Grave
The Outsiders
Plantation Doll
The Mists of Avalon
Sam, Bangs and Moonshine
The End of the Affair
Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human
Peter Pan
Long Walk to Freedom
The Tangled Wing

I listed each one as it appeared in my brain. I did not over-think nor did I edit the list in any way.
Now there are certainly other books I love, books that mean so much to me but just aren’t listed here.
Why?
I don’t know. And for once, I don’t really have the desire to figure it out.

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summer slam ’13 (a mixtape)

Oh how I love a good mix tape!
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It sounds so lame…but it’s true.
I love to share music because it’s such a personal experience, the soundtrack of my life, it feels a real labor of love. What moves me when I hear a song, and why, and how, there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to what I like to put together, yet it always plays as though it was meant to be. It seems a bit like baking to me, you get all the right bits in there and put it in the oven and out pops something yummy.
I make an annual playlist, the _____ mix. The blank changes each year depending on my mood. Normally, I do it in the later part of fall or right after the holidays at the first of the year burn it to disc and send it out to friends near and far. I always include liner notes to sort of explain where I’m coming from or what I was feeling when I made the mix. This is my “sister” Sundance’s favorite part…she especially likes to read the whys.
I didn’t make one at that time this year because quite honestly, I wasn’t inspired in the least.
But recently I became inspired…so much so the normal 18 song disc became a playlist of 34 songs because I couldn’t eliminate a single one. So it hasn’t been burned to disc to share…it’s a playlist on my ipod set to shuffle and turned up to enjoy (as it turns out) mostly in the car.
There are some oldies, some newer things, some to crank up and roll down the windows and just go, and others to settle deep in your soul and keep you quiet for a little while. And quite possibly some have no place in the list with the others…only it sounds good when I play it, so I’m satisfied.
I’ve decided to share it with you…songs and artists (in no particular order) but not the liner notes…it would be too long to write and too long to read and we’d all lose interest and never enjoy the music. Where’s the fun in that?

I present to you: Summer Slam ’13!

Balance Beam ~ Blue October
Heart is a Beating Drum ~ The Kills
Bitch ~ Plastiscines
Delta Lady ~ Joe Cocker
This Charming Man ~ The Smiths
One Week of Danger ~ The Virgins
Hell ~ Squirrel Nut Zippers
The Magnificent Seven ~ The Clash
Something to Talk About ~ Badly Drawn Boy
Short Skirt Long Jacket ~ Cake
Bitch Went Nutz ~ Ben Folds
Put Your Records On ~ Corinne Bailey Rae
Golden Years ~ David Bowie
New Age Girl ~ Deadeye Dick
Coin-Operated Boy ~ The Dresden Dolls
Rio ~ Duran Duran
Heavy in Your Arms ~ Florence + The Machine
Blocking Brainwaves ~ Ghost of the Robot
Falling or Flying ~ Grace Potter & The Nocturnals
Black Gloves ~ Goose
Live & Let Die ~ Guns N’ Roses
Thing of Beauty ~ Hothouse Flowers
Crosstown Traffic ~ Jimi Hendrix
Sour Cherry ~ The Kills
Do You Wanna ~ The Kooks
Pioneers ~ The Lighthouse and The Whaler
A Little Bit Me, a Little Bit You ~ The Monkees
Little By Little ~ Oasis
Brass in Pocket ~ The Pretenders
I Guess You’re Right ~ The Posies
Little Sister ~ Robert Plant
California ~ Rufus Wainwright
31 Days ~ Zee Avi
Skyfall ~ Adele

Please listen responsibly.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , | 3 Comments

too many books?

I love my books.
I love the way they look all orderly on the shelves.
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I love the way they smell, especially the old ones …kind of dusty and slightly mildewy.
I love the way they feel when I hold them in my hand, even if only to dust them.
I love my books because they mean so many different things…love and learning…giggles and tears…
The ones I remember being read to me, the ones I read to Thing 1 and Thing 2 and my precious twin niece and nephew when they were still little bebes.
The ones I stood in line to meet the author and have signed, and old first editions I’ve tracked down thanks to the internet or by sheer happenstance because I love trolling used bookstores.
Vampires (Lestat not the Cullens) and a little redhaired girl on Prince Edward Island…the Pevensie children and Bennett sisters…Elizabeth and Richard’s furious love and zany madcap humor with Michael Palin…seven years with Harry and Ben Bradlee’s good life…Scarlett and Rhett and Esther Greenwood…in the garden at midnight and watching for falling angels…Morgaine of Avalon and Eloise…I’ve lived and learned and loved with these characters…these friends.

I don’t believe I could ever have too many books…until today…sweet merciful crap I have too many boxes of books!
IMG_20130602_142900_973
It’s OK though…I still love them!

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

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