TimeTravel

We had the Memorial Service for my Grandma on Sunday.
It was amazing.

Seeing people from my past. So many. And after the initial scrutiny ("Oh, she's so thin now" or "he's almost bald!"), we timewarped back to where we were when we knew each other best.

Only someone who has actually done this will understand: Age is physical only.

I was 18 with Terry Walker, listening to him practice his eulogy backstage. He was 30ish. We were back in the days of the '84 Olympics and staying with Nana when Gram was in China.

I was 12 with Phyllis Cohen, 13 with Robin, 17 with Afton and 20 with Gina, and a mere 8 with Sandy Wildman. Not even the names really change- Sandy has been a "Padnos" for something like 20 years.

For a few hours on a sunny Sunday afternoon, we were all young again.
And it was strange and wonderful.

And part of me wishes I could go back to those days.
Oh, say, 1983. Not quite out of high school, but not so early in the game that I have to take Algebra II again.
To only have to worry about whether I can get my Mom to let me go see a midnight movie in Westwood with my friends (she never did). To be responsible for keeping my room clean, and doing the dinner dishes once a week--- and that's all.
What was I complaining about?

What would I do differently?
Well, I'd love it more.
I mean, I'd consciously tell myself to hang on to the moments I cherish now. To look more closely. Smell more deeply. Burn the impression into my mind more completely.
I'd spend more time with Dad and John and Nana, and less time with... well, let's just say there are people that I probably wasted some valuable time on.
I'd go to college sooner and longer, and sleep a little less.
I'd take Gram to Disneyland more often, and spend a lot less time worrying.
I'd save some of those albums I got rid of when I thought I really only needed CDs.
I'd hold all the babies longer, and listen to the older people with much more patience.
I'd play more, and not be so concerned with how mature I was.
I'd diet less, but eat better.
I'd read just as much, but watch a lot less TV.
I'd listen more.
And talk less.
And breathe in every moment in the big blue house.

I'm having an "Our Town" moment.
We don't-we can't- appreciate it enough, can we? Not while we're in it- really living it?

Ok- so what would I do the same?
I'd marry the same man all over again.
I'd hang out with Tracy and Gina and Vicki, and both Robins.
I'd sit with Nana after breakfast.
I'd ask Gram questions about our family, and remember all the answers.
I'd spend Dad's last year helping to care for him.
I'd have my babies.

What would YOU do differently?
What would you do the SAME?

It'll keep you up nights.

Jagged Little.....

Here are a few reasons that I feel anger pills should be available over-the-counter:

1. According to Media reports, Michael Jackson's family (which I assume includes the King himself) is shopping a reality series to networks. Apparently, they feel that America would like to see how they dealt with his Royal Highness' trial...and acquittal. I would guess that this would not be on our fall schedule if the jury had seen beyond the sleazy mother and the celebrity witnesses.
I wonder how the accuser- and the many many other children whose lives he has, ahem, touched, will feel about a feel-good primetime family show.
Yeah- that's their hook: Look at how wonderful our family is and how we rallied around our poor misunderstood brother.

In fact, some of the show is already shot and ready to go. Now we know why they all dressed in matching clothes and nose jobs: they were actually performing for the cameras...oh, wait, I guess we did know that.

I won't be watching.


2. The Orange County Catholic Diocese has allowed a grammar school to issue a new rule which states that the parents of two kindergartners cannot be at school functions as a couple. These boys are baptized Catholic, and according to other parents whose children are in the same class, the parents are very involved, responsible people.
But they are 2 gay men.

The principal enrolled the boys last August, and for this past school year, has said and done nothing to imply that there was anything different or morally wrong with their family. By all acounts, she has been very supportive of the family involved.
But some parents were offended by the idea that gay parents would be welcome in a Catholic school, and they went to the diocese.
Now the principal has been told she is not coming back next year (after 20-some years of service, btw), and the new administration sent home an addendum to the normal school enrollment papers:
No baptized child will be turned away, but parental involvement or display of family alliance will not be tolerated in the case of gay or otherwise " unacceptable " parents .
what does that mean? they can be there at the same time, as long as they don't acknowledge eachother?

Hey, I was raised Catholic. I totally get that there are certain rules and doctrines that are sacrosanct and part of the package deal. If these dads were french kissing in the hallway after school, or wearing mauve "Go GAY" tanktops, I'd say they were asking for trouble. But by all accounts, even the parents who believe they should be ousted from the community have said they are non-offensive in their actions.
It's just the fact of them, I guess.
power combined with ignorance is scary.

So my question is, who are they punishing? And why? What are the fears? And if they are so outraged, why allow the children of homosexuals into their private school at all?
basically, their tuition will be accepted, but their family won't.

God...


3. Paris Hilton's Carl's Jr Commercial.

Okey dokey, I really don't need to say much here. You're either with me, or agin' me.
Actually, most of the Carl's Jr ads have grossed me out over the past few years. I really don't like watching (ew- and hearing) people sloppily and orgasmically biting into a messy burger. Granted, I'm a bit of a germaphobe, and in real life, I couldn't handle it either. But come on.... burgers are just not sexy.


Which brings me to la Hilton. Who is also not sexy. Can we admit that the whole point of this ad is to titillate teenage boys (even the 50 year old ones), who might then go get a burger to....what?.....screw???

Ok, I'm on my way to Burger King- where at least they have to decency to clog your arteries and give your kids a paper crown at the same time.


That's all for now!
Feel free to send me your anger management tactics.
I need them.

Moving Mania

So the thing is that I really do have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

I was diagnosed with it in my 20's... and I wish I had known about it when I was about 5 when the symptoms first started showing up. Still, I know NOW, and that's a huge help.

Because sometimes I get out of control. Usually when things are stressful- from a bad cold or fender bender, to a death in the family- I will, at some point in the weeks thereafter, notice my OCD kick into high gear. It has something to do with control and anxiety- and it's a drag.

For example, we're getting ready to move to a new state. This part is not new- nor is it part of the "manic" phase of my illness. But the inability to stop thinking about it and planning for it is definitely gone past the norm.

I've become a house-maniac.

I peruse the "Realtor.com" sites for hours. I have mentally packed nearly every room in the house. I know what color the paint will be in the new kitchen.... we have not even picked out a house yet.

I bore my friends with pictures and swatches, and lose sleep over whether we need to refinish the coffee table or replace it (it is so beat up). Victorian? Ranch? Colonial?

My Husband, the long-suffering and patient man that he is, has the grace to at least pretend that he isn't ready to strangle me if I utter one more word about loans or granite counters.
And my kids- 2 of whom unfortunately share my little problem- are confused and excited in a way that is reminiscent of a 3 year old waiting for Santa Claus in September.

It has become the topic of the day...and night.... and everything in between.

And we WILL be moving- possibly before the end of the summer.
But I can't seem to shut up about it.

It's exhausting to have constant and recurrent thoughts. I know it will subside- it always does. And I chose to not take meds for it because of some bad reactions over the years. So I wade my way through these phases, and try to laugh about it... and apologize a lot.

So the next time that someone is boring you to tears with their plans, dreams, ideas or fears, remember that some of us just can't help it. It's actually out of our control.... for the moment. And it will get better. Really. I think.

Anyone want to hear about the kind of house we're looking for?