Hello, my name is…

I’ve been meeting a lot of new people this week. It makes me realize how insulated I’ve been by people I know– I haven’t had to contend with new personalities in a while.

Or at least a mass of them all at once.

All this constant introducing of myself makes me think about just that. Who am I? Because it strikes me that I’m not, outwardly, always the person that I think I am.

Take my friends, Chris and Susan, for example. They know me better that most. They’ve both seen me at some of the very worst moments in my life– and (thankfully) the best, too. Yet they’ve only ever known me married to Robby. They never knew me when my father was alive or when I was a student or when I lived in an apartment. Of course– it’s a moot point– the sum of me is all of the things that I’ve seen and done and thought and experienced…

These people I’m meeting now will not know me before I was Jack’s mother. Or before I decided to be Methodist. Before I discovered that I love avocados.

It makes me wonder about all the people I’m meeting, too.

We’re all just the highlights reel of ourselves.

Hi Ho Hi Ho

I think my brain is done for the day.

This first week of working at the new job has filled my little brain with all it can hold. Anymore and it’ll spill out of my mouth or nose or ears.

There are multiple systems to learn. Multiple personalities (and not just mine) to absorb. Multiple methods and software and vocabularies for each.

And a filing system to rework.

It’s good– it’s fun to fire up parts of my brain that have gone dormant. And the I’m relishing having a little fund built up again for traveling. And I have a boss that occasionally offers pimento cheese spread.

And the Starbucks there makes a decent Iced Chai.

Robby’s on his way with Chinese take-out. Tonight I’ll read some and play with the little Rabbit and the pups and then head out again tomorrow to reload the frontal lobe again.

(Grin.)

Who put that pole there?

Jack fell off his bike tonight. We were taking the pups out for an evening stroll. Robby and I each had a little dog. Jack was on his bike. We were just across the street from our house– it’s a sharp corner with a stop sign pole that eats into the elbow room you need to make an L-shaped turn when you’re only five.

He clipped the pole. In slow motion his bike began to tip and then he did, too. He ended up on the sidewalk and immediately burst into tears.

His little bike helmet bumped into me when I tried to hold him. He scraped a knee and hurt his finger. Both seem fine. It was just a little spill. Mostly he was mad at the bike for betraying him. Which, while illogical, I understand. I felt the same way when I’d fall off my bike. One minute you’d be sailing along and then suddenly you were ungloriously smashed into the ground. The tears have very little to do with any physical pain– it’s the shock of it. And the humiliation.

He wanted nothing to do with his bike after that. So I did the only thing I could think of– I rode his little bike for a few sections of the sidewalk. It wasn’t easy to do– my knees had to avoid the handlebars. I was worried I might bend the training wheels if I didn’t keep it very straight. And I held my breath.

Jack took the bait– he rode the remaining sections to the Lady Across the Street’s Driveway where we turn to cross our street. I walked his bike across the street. His finger hurt.

I hate that I can’t keep Jack safe always but it’s good to have a few little scraps and bumps along the way so that he doesn’t expect life to be entirely neat and orderly.

Reading

Uh. Maybe you haven’t noticed. But to the right there’s a link to a page called Books…2010. It’s an ongoing list of what I’ve been reading this year.

Read that.

Make suggestions for other books if you’d like.

Catapostrophe

I’m a little disturbed about the letter that came home from Jack’s school today.

It contained two typos. Obvious ones.

The first was in a sentence about the kids meeting their teacher’s. Meeting their teacher’s what? Expectations? Pets? Hidden personality? And why are all the children meeting just one teacher? Shouldn’t it have at least read teachers’– it would still be a typo but one poor teacher wouldn’t have the burden of meeting 225 children…

The other mistake came towards the end. It was one of those errors caused by cutting and pasting two thoughts together. It should have been caught in a proofread.

I feel bad for the principal. There must be, in other district households, other parents like Robby and I that shuddered when we caught the mistakes. And probably a few of those catchers railed against the Public School System with righteous indignation and wrath.

Eh. To err is human. To proofread, however, is a good defense.

Maybe it was a test.

Meanwhile– I’m going to call it what I call all other apostrophe errors– a catapostrophe.

Hired!

Well look who’s back among the Employed! I got the job!

This will be a grand adventure– lots of new things to learn. Skills to remember. Discoveries to be had.

Jack and I were at Meijer’s today (and, again– it’s okay to call it Meijer’s when you are old enough to remember it being Meijer’s Thrifty Acres. It’s NOT okay when you think that it’s called Meijers.) and perused the Back-to-School section. First Grade Jack does not have a lot of excitement over school supplies. He’s not needed anything, to this point, than a backpack (supplied by his GrandLady) and a lunchbox/thermos. He did announce the other day that this year he would really like the 64 box of Crayolas. (You remember the one– it has the Built! In! Sharpener!)

I almost bought myself a new lunchbox. We working gals have to eat.

Interview

I interviewed for a job today.

I know the person hiring– I had to redo my resume because, normally, he’d be one of my references.

Interviewing with a friend is like going to a birthday party where you really want to ask about the flavor of the cake but there are too many other people there for that to be a polite question so you are left to having to wait.

I haven’t interviewed in quite a while– thirteen years is a long time without having to field questions the answers to which would be infinitely better if I could think for a minute. But we’ll see.

What’s meant to be is meant to be.

I really could go for some cake though.

To the Lake!

I’ve been packing with a little ADHD today… Stopping to fold t-shirts then iron a skirt then look for my hairpins then make Jack’s bed.

And now I’m sitting down with the computer for a minute just to get off my feet.

We’re heading up north for a stretch. It’s always good to get to the Lake and to have a few days to play on the boat/dock/Jack’s kiddie pool… I have a stack of books and some socks to finish knitting as a bonus. And to eat! Whitefish and spaghetti and chicken casserole.

We’re meeting friends up there, too– which makes this an even better trip than usual.

Friend Susan asked, “What do I pack?” And I laughed because it is late July at the Lake– pack everything. Pack for cold nights and hot days and everything in between.

I’ve thrown my wool socks in on top of my swimsuit. But, for the most part, I plan on wrapping the company of good people around me like a blanket. I can’t wait to sit in the middle of their laughter and soak it all in. Store it up for darker days.

New Plan to Survive this Heatwave

I had to pick up some groceries today. We went to Wal-Mart. I’m not a fan of Wal-Mart. I hate the feel of it. I don’t like their new commercial campaign that is trying so desperately to appeal to people like me that hate Wal-Mart.

However– since I had both Orange Juice and Poptarts on the list we went to Wal-Mart. (Both are considerably cheaper there, FYI.)

Our Wal-Mart is pretty big. I’m pretty sure I could move in for several weeks before they’d notice.

So– for the forseeable future please forward my mail to the camping section. Jack and I have set up cots there. We’re a little disappointed that it’s so far away from the food side but we figure we can use Amigos to get over there for big runs… or maybe use some of the bikes when we need exercise. There are magazines and books to keep us busy for a while and we can always wander over to electronics and watch television. Bathing is going to be tricky– but maybe we can find some dry shampoo and Purell? Robby can join us after work– he’ll like that he no longer has to mow the lawn.

Unfortunately our’s is a 24 hour Wal-Mart so we may have to stay on the move. And get some night shades to block out the flourescent lights.

If only our Target had a bigger food section….

Power Outage

Last night the power went out. It was very unexpected. No wind. No thunder or lightning. No crashing limbs.

Jack was in bed. Robby and I were on the couch with our MadMen mini-marathon (I’m trying to catch him up so that I have someone who will understand my obsession with it). We were a third of the way into the Nixon/Kennedy episode when the television popped and went dark. It came back for a brief moment then went dark again.

The house was suddenly silent. No ceiling fans. None of the white noise. Just silence. I went in search of candles and flashlights– we were in that gloamy twilight and the light was fading fast. Robby went outside to confirm what I already knew– the whole street was out.

We haven’t exactly figured out how the electric grid works in our town– across the street the house on the corner had power but my mother, four blocks away, didn’t either. She answered the phone (still having one plugged in that wasn’t entirely dependent on electricity) and announced that they were giving up and going to bed.

We waited. Sat in the living room with the pups and admired the candlelight. Outside there was an occasional snatch of conversation from people who were walking. Lots of people were out– and there was a festiveness in their numbers. Unable to do anything became a reason to celebrate. We contemplated waking up Jack and taking him for a walk around the neighborhood.

After a while we opened up the bottle of wine that Chris and Susan gave us and sat on the back deck with the tiki torches and a sleeve of Ritz crackers. The quiet was nice. The stillness. The nothingness. No computers or phones television. I tried to read my library book but was too distracted by thinking that I should appreciate the stillness.

It didn’t last– I got restless and went back inside. From the open windows the mood changed– people who had been gay and laughing in the first hour were now edgy and vexed as the darkness deepened. The house began to feel stuffy without any of the ceiling fans to move the air. A family on the edge of our block were too loud– we could hear a woman cursing over and over even while there were sounds of small children from the same yard. Far away– maybe a half mile? or mile? there was a gun fired. The night felt sinister.

We fell asleep on the couch because it was cooler downstairs but I woke after a while with a stiff neck and crawled upstairs. It was hot and still and I couldn’t bear the sheet on top of me. A utility truck passed and then another. A hum and then the electricity was back– resounding cheers went up from the loud family. And then an “Aw shoo!” when it went back off again almost instantly.

Today it’s back again. The clocks are all wonky and I missed Deadliest Catch because the TiVo was out. Might have to have a brown out some time again though– the wine and the book and the quiet were nice.