Life: And Other Scary Things

I stumbled upon this picture on one of my surfing blogs the other day and it stuck with me.

Remember those days? There was no such thing as fear when Dad was there, ready to catch you. I remember hurling myself out of trees into Dad's arms and I remember him picking me up and launching me waaaay up into the air, catching me with a thud and an ear to ear grin.

That thrill. Those were the days.

At what point in life does fear take over your sense of carelessness? When do you lose that childlike trust in the world and pick up a debilitating awareness of all the things that could go wrong. It's sad really. But alas I'm not here to bring you down.

My point about scary things is this; I've changed my mind about my adventuring. And by that I mean, I still haven't made a decision but I've added more options to the roster. And by that I mean, I really have no news at all.

I've realized I haven't made a decision because it's a little scary and Dad can't follow me around, ready with open arms. I've decided that I need to move somewhere, not visit a handful of places for a month or two. A commitment move, folks. That's what I'm thinking. 

West, South, or overseas? I'm just gonna just have to jump in like this little girl.

In completely unrelated news, look at Buddy displaying extreme self-control as he stares at the last cookie.

And then he casually checked to see if I was watching...

Busted!

Mardi Gras

After work last Thursday, I piled into a tiny car with three fellas and rode all the way down to New Orleans. I'd been debating an Ari visit for a while and for the last three years I've attempted to come to Mardi Gras. I've gotten the date wrong for three years, always showing up a bit too soon or after the party has packed up and left. Just days before booking my flight I found out that Omar, Caleb, and Stubie were headed down for a good time, so I hitched a ride. A long twelve hour ride.

During this ride they discussed every possible man topic. They talked about cars, girls, beer, guns, career opportunities, laundry, guns, and Omar's cute little nephews. They stopped only three times for under 10 minutes each. I would flee to the bathroom, racing to desperately not hold up the ride. I didn't drink anything that day, for I knew they weren't stopping for my girl bladder. We arrived about 2:30 in the morning and while I was desperate to climb into bed with Ari, they insisted on a celebratory arrival beer and went to a bar for a drink. I stood politely among them, my arms folded and my eyes closed but a smile stretched across my face. Stubie finally dumped us out at Ari's around 4 and after giggling a bit, we went straight to sleep.

There were eight of us staying in Ari's apartment, literally sleeping in piles where we could find space. It was nice to see some of these old friends and meet new instant friends everyday. While kicking up trouble at Mardi Gras would be a walk in the park, I was surprised by the "good clean fun" experience I had. We spent everyday at parades catching beads and feather boas. Omar and Caleb became highly aggressive, knocking small children out of the way to amass a bead collection like no other. Every day and every night we stood on the street corner watching the floats go by and laughing like school children.

Ari's apartment is a block from all the action so rather than suffering through down time with small talk or standing in line for bathrooms, we would all scamper back to the apartment for cat naps and snacks. Mostly we played- like little kids, taunting each other and throwing food. We had a jam session on the porch one night. Caleb and Omar played the guitar while the rest of us had shakers and tambourines. We amassed a few small crowds on the street below who danced while we played or cheered as they staggered by. At one point, a man dressed as a purple teletubby stood below our balcony and spun in circles. One guy even threw us his beads. 

We dressed up in costumes, played games, and ate a crock pot of boiling cheese dip in the middle of the living room floor. I got a little bit of Ari/Laura time for 20 minutes one day when everyone was still at a parade. We had the apartment to ourselves so we put on some music, laid on the floor in the sun and talked about life. We were interrupted shortly by Caleb who, after catching a pair of green underwear from a float, decided he needed a break.

Omar had an unfortunately timed, very important Skype interview during this trip. So we all piled into the car to buy him a shirt and tie. It took a team get him ready. Emma hung his clothes, Ari searched out her iron, I trimmed his unruly beard, and Caleb helped him find an appropriate background. Omar was entirely capable of doing all these things on his own but we meddled. Thats what loving friends do.

Omar got a nice shirt and a silver tie and even some suspenders because he's "stylish like that." I was hideously entertained by how swarthy and ethnic he looked so I had him fasten me an hijab and we posed for photos.

For what it's worth, the interview went really well and he even wore a few strands of beads. A risky move I thought, but he's stylish like that. He's already been called back for an in-person interview.

Oh I had the best time and wish I had taken more photos. I get so distracted by fun! I wish I had photographed our jam session. And the mass dance party we started off Bourbon street. Oh! And for one short moment of my life, I impressed a group of hilarious black kids with my dance moves. I'd never felt so cool.

I flew back yesterday, through Baltimore of all places, to get home in time to pick up the lil' Devil from school. Caleb, Omar, and Stubie are back in the car now, fighting traffic to get out of the city. I'm still so sleepy from all the fun. I can't imagine driving 12 hours home.

Bonfire

This past Saturday was supposed to be a big day of gut-busting fun. A day for friends, food, and music. An arena of joy. And so it was... for everyone else. I came down with a harsh sniffle that knocked me down for two days. I even had to call out of work, which -while I don't care for the institution, is not something I do. If I am two things it is a punctual and reliable employee. 

I had to miss Folly Gras. Folly Gras!! I had been excitedly scheming about the big day with everyone for weeks! And instead I stayed home, sneezing and slumping. I also had to miss an oyster roast that would have been my next option if Folly Gras hadn't been the same day. 

Enough about me though. All those other folks (Ellie, Shambles, Mom, Dad, Giggles, and Dave) attended said oyster roast and then came home and lit fire to the backyard. T'was a very hot fire and they roasted marshmallows and listened to tunes.

Little Nuggets

In case you're keeping track, Ellen ditched me on date night. I found out she was only going because she wanted a burger and so I refused to go. Someday. Someday she will love me.

Life continues on its usual fashion over here. I've been doing some scheming with Mattie from over in Madrid and we are working out some summer plans. In addition to the Mattie plans, I'm going off for some solo adventuring. I find this scary and also, not ideal but when all your friends have Big Kid jobs and motivation, you end up on your fat butt all by yourself seeking out life's sweeter things.

While I work that out, I've been mastering my Lego technique, hiding AND seeking, enduring tantrums and mommy meltdowns, and fixing hundreds of peanut butter sandwiches. I'm not going to lie. Kids are the pits. Where does your life go after kids show up? I get to cash him in at the end of the day and I STILL feel this way.

My sweet folks have been enduring some tantrums as well, but because they are coming from me, I like to think of them more as informative, Andy Rooney-style monologues, backed by truth and humor. I've been a complete grump all winter. It's embarrassing. And I don't mean it. I'm just in a slump.

Here are some blurry photos from our romantic family Valentines Day. Shambles had to work that night so Ellen spent the Day of Love with us, who spent it with ole Giggles and Dave. During this outing we watched the Olympics, laughed about old times, and created Marvel Comics newest hero; SuperJew.

To spice up my dull workweek, I hang out with musical Julie and friends. They are an odd, fun group of people who never stop drumming, strumming, and humming. They write melodies while we drive to restaurants, create percussion solos with water glasses and silverware, drumming on plates and tables. They'll take a breather to discuss local musicians, coming up with improvements to their sounds and methods. Then they'll discuss unicorns and fire breathing dragons. And usually, we'll come home to a drum circle. As one of three non-musicians in the group (though they want to borrow my ukelele. Thats right. I'm so in.), they'll give me a tambourine or a shaker of sorts and put me in the corner to cackle while they play. It really thrills me. 

Editor's note: That gargantuan beer is not mine. 

The huge margarita might be. But in my defense, I asked for a small but it was a Mexican restaurant. Hate to break it to ya, but Mexicans love me. 

Don't worry. I didn't drink the whole thing. I literally could put my whole face in that glass. I saw a girl at the next table with an even bigger one. I know!! I also watched her fall sideways when she got up to leave. Luckily a brick wall was there to catch her. She played it off well.

The things people do to themselves...

How did I get to talking about this? Can you tell I wing these blog posts?

Dad Language

It sure has been a while since I told you about them other folks. I've been on a self-centered bender on account of having a pre-life crisis. No, I haven't worked it all out yet thanks, but I think I have a plan.

So in family news...

Ellen has been working on her handstand.

I have conned her into going on a date with me tomorrow. So you know, this is quite an accomplishment. Ellen does not leave the house under the circumstances of "fun". Well, she'll go off with Chris but not with me. To this day I have not been able to get her to go to the Surf Bar with me. Dad once had to bribe her with a day off to get her to have dinner with me. I was so offended that I refused to go - but I think I've got her this time.

Mom has been volunteering her Tuesday mornings helping two little kids with their reading skills. Anthony and Shadiyah are both in the third grade and dem churn can't read real good. 

That wasn't nice.

She has also still been painting the trim around the house. She insists that the walls look "dingy" and you can hear her repeating this while she paints. I have also heard more outbursts of laugher from her recently. I'll follow the noise downstairs and around the corner and find her sitting alone, cackling about her own thoughts or the occasional magazine advertisement. (I'm starting to worry about her.)

Dad continuers firing on all cylinders. He's been attending his bunches of meetings and showings and heckling tenants for rent. I've fallen for the tenants who come up with clever ways to avoid Dad at the first of each month. He finds them frustrating. I think they're adorable. 

Even more adorable is Dad's made up language. It's old news that he messes up titles, ignores suffixes, and scans past letters in commonly used, everyday words. Recently it's taken a bit of translating to figure out what he's been saying. He gets ahead of himself see and oblivously bumbles over words with a straight face and looks up at us innocently, waiting for our answer. There is a moment of silence, slowly rising grins, and then blasts of laughter. Dad looks on in confusion until we explain.

Some recent examples;

"Let's make some of those marshmallow spores!!"

"I had to put it all into the three big, plastic kastanisters."

"This is a good song. What gentra is it?"

His sweet face while we laugh at him breaks my heart but I love it so so much.