And sometimes it's even like this
You see your first girlfriend across the room - until today you hadn't seen her for over 35 years. She's talking to your wife. She's pointed at you, and they are laughing.
No, not a dream.
No, not a dream.
...and not all the time, but more often than I ever dreamed, it is like this:
A gorgeous French Woman wearing a sleeveless dress with horizontal black and white stripes and a flapper-bob hairdo approaches you and asks you to swing dance to Duke Ellington being played live by a 14 piece jazz band in a loft in Long Island. She reads the expression on your face and says, "Don't worry, I will follow everything you do flawlessly and you'll be great, as long as you commit." And she reads the new expression and says, "Just commit" and "no" isn't an option but the song ends when you get on the dance floor, and then you are hanging with people who really like you and that you really like on the second floor, and then the music starts again and you go upstairs wondering if the moment has passed but then song #2 post break happens and you make eye contact across the room and she points directly at you and you go to each other and god damn it you have a good time dancing and twirling her and doing all these things that she is actually doing, but she is gorgeous and French and her sleeveless dress has horizontal black and white stripes and her black hair is in a flapper-bob and the announcer said, "this is a romantic song" and she looked at you and said, "Romantic" and that is how you dance.
I never dreamed it would ever be like this. But there we are...
I never dreamed it would ever be like this. But there we are...
Imposter Syndrome
My biggest imposter syndrome isn't work-related. Lots of people have that.
I have it whenever I'm in conversation with grown-ups. Will they figure out I'm not really one?
Rain barrels, golf, home improvement, double-breasted suits, etc.
I have it whenever I'm in conversation with grown-ups. Will they figure out I'm not really one?
Rain barrels, golf, home improvement, double-breasted suits, etc.
A Short Story
[JANE and BOB no longer share a cubicle. JANE has walls now. She's doing well. I'm happy for her]
[BOB enters JANE's cubicle. Maybe he knocked.]
JANE: Hi, Bob! What can I do for you?
[BOB cries. For about five minutes. He stops and gets up.]
JANE: Glad to help.
[BOB nods, and leaves]
A Short Story
Bob: my intern didn't get the McClotsky file to your intern
Jane: I don't care?
Bob: what?
Jane: I know you are hurting and have been hurting a long time. I've been hurting too
Bob: wait... who are we?
An unexpected great time
Frances wanted to see her grandmother again, and finally mustered up the courage (dementia pretty advanced) so we went there for the weekend. I've been there several times without her, many actually, and I no longer enjoy that trip. Very hard to be in the house with Mom and Pop. I put a good spin on it and said, "It will be like one of our old road trips" and didn't add "before you got too old to enjoy them."
I didn't know that what I said would turn out to be true. I didn't.
When we pulled out of the driveway, I said, "Road Trip." She said, "Road Trip." We said, "Woo" unenthusiastically. But that was funny. It used to be our big tradition, now become a formality.
I had to stop by my office to get something after we left, and she lingered in my office, screwing around with stuff. I was ready to instinctively say, "Okay, now, we have to go." But I realized we didn't - I promised the parents we would be there at 6, and we were 3 - 4 hours ahead of schedule because I wanted to leave time to go to Galena. So I didn't hurry her. She found an electronic puzzle she gave up on when she was little and got into it. "This comes in the car!" she declared. "Obviously," I agreed.
So we got on the highway and it was a series of beep-boop puzzles, and when she got stuck I suggested solutions, and eventually it got too hard, so she put it down, but didn't get her phone out, and we talked and joked around, like we used to do, but not the previous road trip. And I put on futility closet podcast and she got her phone out at that point but put it down when the lateral thinking puzzle came on, and we arrived at Galena.
We hadn't enjoyed Galena that much for a long time. She outgrew what she used to like about it, but grew into it again on a different level. We got fun pasta at the pasta store, and bags of candy from the "bag your own candy" store, and too many snacks and browsed stores, and all that. We got lunch, and when we sat at the bar - tradition, because the first road trip when she was about 3 or 4 we had to sit at the hotel bar and she made it a tradition - they made us move to a table, which sucked. She had a hot ham and cheese sandwich that she loved the heck out of, and we continued to shop and screw around, and eventually got in the car.
At the parents house she was so good with my parents, especially my mom, and was making fun of her too, but if that made her happy and able to deal with Mom, then it sure beat being depressed. We had dinnah, and F was just laughing at all of mom's quirks, but being so nice to them both, and helping mom into the car while I helped pop into the car... I realized that this was the first time I was happy while visiting them in a very long time.
Then F got mom and me and her playing cards, rummy 3-handed, and then F left the table. So mom and I played and L texted me that F had texted her, that F was near crying. So I went into the guest room where F and I were staying, and she was really upset. "Grandma doesn't know me." So I comforted her, and went back to play cards with Grandma, and I told F she could stay away as long as she wanted to.
And we had brunch with them the next day, and it was cheerful again, and mom was being deliberately wacky, and every time something fun occured mom would tell F "I'm just making memories for you" and F thought that was a stitch. And then we left, and went to this amazing children's museum in Rockford. Was F too old? Only a bit - they have really cool stuff there, including an outdoor part that is part playground, and part amazing things, like a perspective room where you look through a hole and the person on the other end seems to grow and shrink, and things where you whisper in one end and someone across the park hears you, and a "healthy Habits" maze - all sorts of things. And then inside a place where you get to play games with lights on a floor you have to avoid or stomp on, and a balance test and I can go on and on about this museum. But the point is F and I had just as good a time as we did when we went there (only once before) maybe 3 or 4 years ago. Sometimes she acted younger than she is, but that was okay - it was okay that day. And sometimes she acted her age, and that was fine, too. And I was just me. But both of us tired a lot easier than we did last time with the physical activities.
The car ride home was pleasant - some phone and podcasts, a lot of talking. And we stopped for dinner - I think it was fast food, because she was getting carsick and stopping and having some food helped. And we got home and it was back to our lives. And our normal modes of being.
But that weekend- it was like we were Dad and Francie again, before all the tension at home and the stress and the homework and all that. We left it behind, and found us again. Neither of us expected that. But it happened. I came home from our previous road trip a little disappointed, and told Laurel that "that was our last road trip." Well I was wrong. THIS was our last road trip. It came back and gave us one more ride, one chance to say goodbye to it, and it was a blessing.
I didn't know that what I said would turn out to be true. I didn't.
When we pulled out of the driveway, I said, "Road Trip." She said, "Road Trip." We said, "Woo" unenthusiastically. But that was funny. It used to be our big tradition, now become a formality.
I had to stop by my office to get something after we left, and she lingered in my office, screwing around with stuff. I was ready to instinctively say, "Okay, now, we have to go." But I realized we didn't - I promised the parents we would be there at 6, and we were 3 - 4 hours ahead of schedule because I wanted to leave time to go to Galena. So I didn't hurry her. She found an electronic puzzle she gave up on when she was little and got into it. "This comes in the car!" she declared. "Obviously," I agreed.
So we got on the highway and it was a series of beep-boop puzzles, and when she got stuck I suggested solutions, and eventually it got too hard, so she put it down, but didn't get her phone out, and we talked and joked around, like we used to do, but not the previous road trip. And I put on futility closet podcast and she got her phone out at that point but put it down when the lateral thinking puzzle came on, and we arrived at Galena.
We hadn't enjoyed Galena that much for a long time. She outgrew what she used to like about it, but grew into it again on a different level. We got fun pasta at the pasta store, and bags of candy from the "bag your own candy" store, and too many snacks and browsed stores, and all that. We got lunch, and when we sat at the bar - tradition, because the first road trip when she was about 3 or 4 we had to sit at the hotel bar and she made it a tradition - they made us move to a table, which sucked. She had a hot ham and cheese sandwich that she loved the heck out of, and we continued to shop and screw around, and eventually got in the car.
At the parents house she was so good with my parents, especially my mom, and was making fun of her too, but if that made her happy and able to deal with Mom, then it sure beat being depressed. We had dinnah, and F was just laughing at all of mom's quirks, but being so nice to them both, and helping mom into the car while I helped pop into the car... I realized that this was the first time I was happy while visiting them in a very long time.
Then F got mom and me and her playing cards, rummy 3-handed, and then F left the table. So mom and I played and L texted me that F had texted her, that F was near crying. So I went into the guest room where F and I were staying, and she was really upset. "Grandma doesn't know me." So I comforted her, and went back to play cards with Grandma, and I told F she could stay away as long as she wanted to.
And we had brunch with them the next day, and it was cheerful again, and mom was being deliberately wacky, and every time something fun occured mom would tell F "I'm just making memories for you" and F thought that was a stitch. And then we left, and went to this amazing children's museum in Rockford. Was F too old? Only a bit - they have really cool stuff there, including an outdoor part that is part playground, and part amazing things, like a perspective room where you look through a hole and the person on the other end seems to grow and shrink, and things where you whisper in one end and someone across the park hears you, and a "healthy Habits" maze - all sorts of things. And then inside a place where you get to play games with lights on a floor you have to avoid or stomp on, and a balance test and I can go on and on about this museum. But the point is F and I had just as good a time as we did when we went there (only once before) maybe 3 or 4 years ago. Sometimes she acted younger than she is, but that was okay - it was okay that day. And sometimes she acted her age, and that was fine, too. And I was just me. But both of us tired a lot easier than we did last time with the physical activities.
The car ride home was pleasant - some phone and podcasts, a lot of talking. And we stopped for dinner - I think it was fast food, because she was getting carsick and stopping and having some food helped. And we got home and it was back to our lives. And our normal modes of being.
But that weekend- it was like we were Dad and Francie again, before all the tension at home and the stress and the homework and all that. We left it behind, and found us again. Neither of us expected that. But it happened. I came home from our previous road trip a little disappointed, and told Laurel that "that was our last road trip." Well I was wrong. THIS was our last road trip. It came back and gave us one more ride, one chance to say goodbye to it, and it was a blessing.
You ever get away with something you never thought you would get away with?
You ever get away with something you never thought you would get away with and then you are like, "Now what?"
The email I got:
To make things easier on our emcee, please send me your speech/presentation/performance title and a script for how you'd like our emcee to introduce you by Monday, August 13.
My response sent today, August 13:
“Ladieeeeeeees, and Gentlemen! We are so glad you are here, and that you will be students at the University of Northern Iowa. Our first two speakers are Nicole Bishop and Dr. Douglas Shaw. Nicole Bishop is a chemistry major at UNI, who is not afraid to speak to you candidly and plainly. She has ambitions, hopes, and fears, and is thusly like all of us. Dr. Shaw is a professor of mathematics at UNI, who has also taught our Cornerstone course. He had ambitions and hopes, and is now consumed by his fears, and is thusly like all of us will someday become. You will note that we are passing out index cards. If you have any questions to which you want frank answers, write them down and pass them forward at any time. They are going to tell you a fascinating story, and then answer your questions. Now, please give the BIGGEST LOUDEST welcome you can to Nicole and Doug! YAYYYY!”
The reply, sent less than a minute later:
Kristen is going to dig this. Thank you so much!
My Life Story
MOM: I am your Mom. Hi. This is an oven. It is Modern. You cook with it. It takes about an hour to make a potato.
13 years later:
POP: I am your Mom's new husband. Hi. I can't believe you don't have a Microwave yet. A "microwave" as everyone but your family knows, is Modern. It cooks food *fast*. In the time it took me to have sex with your mom just now I cooked a potato!
30 years later:
LAUREL: I am your wife. Hi. I can't believe we don't have a Crock Pot yet. A "crock pot" is Modern. It cooks food like our oven and Microwave does, but it cooks food *slow*. I started a potato, for example, and tomorrow it will be done.
(we'll say) 10 years later:
FRIEND: I am your friend. Hi. I can't believe I am just now getting an Instant Pot. An "Instant pot" is Modern. It cooks food like an oven, or microwave, or crock pot, but it cooks food *fast*. You want a potato? Potatoes maintain one of the highest glycemic index values of any food, they cause our blood sugar levels to rapidly rise which in turn cause our blood insulin concentrations to simultaneously increase. What the hell is wrong with you?
Nothing personal
Hey, look, I love your writing. That's why I've been following your posts for over a decade. Seriously.
And I know this is a dead platform. People used to laugh when I mentioned I still use it from time to time. Then I stopped telling people. If I told people now, they wouldn't have heard of it, or remember it.
But my friends feed now looks a lot like my twitter feed. Its not like I check it all that often. Dead platform and all.
I can't believe I'm about to UNfriend people on a platform nobody uses any more. It really is nothing personal. I probably am loving your posts on instagram or facebook.
I just want to filter out the non-content and the forwards and the auto-posts and all that, and just see the people who still write stuff on here from time to time.
The sad thing is - I really still like the LJ interface. The way it works. The way it is so easy to choose which groups see my posts. The way it is so not-easy to just forward a bunch of stuff. The way it is conducive to longer, thought out posts. I like writing, and reading what my friends write, about the stuff they've been thinking about.
Ah well, see you on ello or whatever!
And I know this is a dead platform. People used to laugh when I mentioned I still use it from time to time. Then I stopped telling people. If I told people now, they wouldn't have heard of it, or remember it.
But my friends feed now looks a lot like my twitter feed. Its not like I check it all that often. Dead platform and all.
I can't believe I'm about to UNfriend people on a platform nobody uses any more. It really is nothing personal. I probably am loving your posts on instagram or facebook.
I just want to filter out the non-content and the forwards and the auto-posts and all that, and just see the people who still write stuff on here from time to time.
The sad thing is - I really still like the LJ interface. The way it works. The way it is so easy to choose which groups see my posts. The way it is so not-easy to just forward a bunch of stuff. The way it is conducive to longer, thought out posts. I like writing, and reading what my friends write, about the stuff they've been thinking about.
Ah well, see you on ello or whatever!
I think its like this for me more often than it is for most people
This is from the owner of my favorite restaurant in Ann Arbor.