Thursday, October 23, 2008

You Got to have "Friends"

I don't have a lot of friends. I don't mean that in the "woe is me" way it sounds. I just mean that the number of people that I consider friends who I see or contact on a regular basis is very small. My friends are important to me. I love them and care about them like they're family.

The on-line world is a weird place for friendships. I frequently e-mail and Twitter people whom I've never met but who I "know" through reading their blogs. I look at their pictures on Flickr. I've seen their homes, neighborhoods, workplaces, friends and families.

My on-line friends are good for a laugh, a virtual hug, a "hey look at this" or "me too." I find myself quoting them or sharing details of our "conversations" with people in real life. That sounds weird, like these people on-line are figments of my imagination. Given my state of mind lately that's a possibility, but I'm pretty sure that they exist as actual life forms.

So what do I call these people? "Friend" to me implies a physical closeness, day-to-day interaction, a person who you've spent time with, who you can read and who can read you. I'd like very much to call some of these people "friend." I think I'd like to spend time with them, to have beers, to go book shopping with them or have a picnic with them. You can tell a lot about a person based on what they bring to a picnic. That's a subject for another time.

Sometimes I think, "One day I'll go to Canada/Arkansas/Amsterdam/Vienna to visit Jen/Belinda/Ingrid/Wolfgang and we're going to laaaaaugh and laugh and laugh and have a good time...." and then I wonder if that's a good idea.

Maybe in real life, these people wouldn't like me. Maybe I wouldn't like them. Maybe the on-line world is the best place for these "friendships" because the conversations are short, sweet and don't require eye-to-eye contact.

Better to keep the illusion of friendship, right? And darn it, it still feels funny calling these people friends. Have they earned that title? Have I? Wasn't it easier when we were five-years-old and could just wander up to someone on the playground and ask, "Will you be my friend?"

Monday, October 20, 2008

What's The Big Idea?

I'm fresh out of episodes of MadMen and Prime Suspect so I might as well post. It's funny: I get irritated with "professional" bloggers who go a couple of days without posting. "This is your JOB. Gah." I mutter at my screen, refreshing, refreshing, refreshing for a new post that isn't there. And here I am, going WEEKS without posting. I'll try to do better.

Fall is finally falling here. The air is getting a little crisper, the leaves are collecting on the driveway and we have pumpkins on our doorstep waiting to be carved or painted. There's even a real deal pie pumpkin on my kitchen counter top waiting to have done to it whatever you do to make a real deal pumpkin pie. Me and my big ideas.

I have a lot of big ideas. Not much comes of them, but they are big. I have an idea for curtains I want to sew for the girls' room. But I don't own a sewing machine. And I can't sew. So.....heh. You see the problem there.

I have an idea for a new landscape design for our yard. I drew it out on graph paper with colored pencils and measurements and everything. That was five years ago. The plan is sitting in a folder somewhere, relegated to the "one day when we have money and time" pile.

I had a big idea for a blog. I was going to write fascinating, funny, heart-string tugging, insightful, thoughtful posts about parenting and children, work and marriage. Turns out: with an infant, a toddler and a full-time job on the graveyard shift, I don't have a whole lotta time to post. Imagine that!

I'm also at a loss for what to write. I don't want to exploit my family for post-fodder. But some of the things we experience on a daily basis are funny or wonderful or challenging and maybe whatever happens make someone else laugh or boost their spirits or just let them know they're not alone. That's ok, right?

What do you want to know? Remember, I'm not talking about my sex life. There are a bajillion bloggers who talk about theirs. I'm sure they don't mind if you wander over for a look-see. I don't talk about politics because, frankly? Who the hell cares what I think and haven't we heard enough already? Religion? See previous.

I have big ideas. What are some of yours

Thursday, October 2, 2008


Dear Thursday,

Why you gotta be like that? Acting all crazy and flat out nasty sometimes. What'd I do to you?

We used to have a good thing going, you and me. You were practically my favorite day of the week. After Friday, I mean. Settle down, settle down. You gotta know that Friday is everyone's favorite. It's just the way the calendar is set up. Friday starts the weekend. Friday is party night. Friday is date night. Friday is pay day. TGIF and all that.

But you, Thursday? You're the pat on the back, the sign that relief is close, the appetizer to the weekend's main course. Thursday means the weekend is so close. Hang in there, baby! It's Thursday! Hey, it's Thursday, wanna get a jump start on the weekend? Thursday, YOU are the beacon of light in a long week.

Except for me. Technically you're my Tuesday. Now, now...I know Tuesday is the weakling on the calendar. Nobody thinks twice about Tuesday. "Whatcha doin' Tuesday?" "Nothin'." And it's not my fault, really. I had nothing to do with screwing up the week like that. Believe me, I want things back to the way they used to be but it's not up to me. For now, to me anyway, you're Tuesday. I'm sorry, sugar, that's just the way it has to be. At least you're not Wednesday. Wednesday has become my Monday and NOBODY likes Monday. Think how Wednesday feels. See. You got it pretty good.

So why gotta act like that, Thursday? By the time I'm done with you I want to eat my weight in chocolate, break shit, lay on the floor and cry. Seriously. Can't we just have a normal day together? One that doesn't involve illness or sleepless babies or cantankerous toddlers? I know, I know...I'm not blaming it all on you. Some of this is my fault, but day-um. EVERY THURSDAY ends in tears for somebody at my house and it's usually me.

Shhhhh. It's ok, baby. I didn't mean to make you cry. Com'ere. It's gonna be ok. I still love you. Everybody else still loves you, too. You're beautiful, friendly, never-hurts-anyone Thursday. Ain't nothin' gonna change that. Let's make up, ok? Wanna go get a burrito? The place up the street has a Thursday speeccciaaaaalllllll......