60 Years of Adventures

Mom's 60th birthday had to be special.  Al and I have known this for awhile.   Each 'milestone' birthday has, traditionally, come with a party full of family and friends.    But now the friends who posted the party are no longer in the area.  And Mom is smart enough to spend winters in Florida, thus making a local party a little trickier.  Mom has mentioned over the past few months she may host a pool party this summer to celebrate after the fact, which is an idea I 100% support, but that did not solve the "What to do on Mom's birthday" dilemma.

Well, it turns out we sort of had the answer all along!

The amazingly talented and creative Holly posted about her Dad's 60th back in 2011.   She had the absolutely brilliant idea of reaching out to people from her Dad's past to collect memories [60 total, of course] they have shared along the way.  I showed the idea to Al and she thought it would be perfect for Mom; we filed the idea away.   Flash-forward to the end of 2013.   Al and I were still on board and ready to start on our fun project.

So here's what we did:

Several months ago I took a screen shot of all of Mom's Facebook friends and cross referenced with mine to see who we were connected to.   I also scoured my inbox for emails that had been sent to me in the past, on which family members were copied.  For those not online, I found their actual mailing addresses.   I put them in a folder on my computer called Mom 60 [obviously they went into a folder.  Remember, I love folders of all sorts] and mentioned the idea to Dad this past fall.

Right after New Year's, Al and I were ready to move forward and finalized a list of people to contact.  I reached out to a bunch of people who were, in some way or another, connected to my Mom.   Family, friends, friends who should be family, in-laws, former colleagues, neighbors, and even students she knew via 20 years working at a school.   (To get an idea of what I wrote, check out Holly's example.)

The responses came in almost immediately.   The same day I sent out the email, in fact, I heard from a former colleague who said "Great idea!  I'll mail mine on Monday" and she did.   The notes came in pretty steadily, actually.    The first couple arrived in the mailbox less than a week after the initial email, and there was only one day in all of January that I did not find at least one memory waiting for me in the day's mail, and of course I got emails daily.    February continued the fun, and we ended up with more than notes from 70 people.   The US Postal Service should thank me, really.    I mean, I am not even managing wedding invitations here, but my mailbox bursting every day!

It is absolutely humbling to receive notes from people who appear at different parts along Mom's timeline.    We heard from the usual suspects: siblings, my grandma, some cousins.  But we also received notes from extended family, including cousins on both sides of the family who we probably have not seen since Bill Clinton was in office..... serving his first term!    Friends from elementary school, high school and college chimed in.  Also in the mailbox were notes from a former boss, faculty and staff who worked with mom at my alma matter, and students who had not spoken to my mother since graduating high school 20 years ago.   Family neighbors who have known Mom since the 1950s contributed [and we had not even reached out to them initially!] and one of my cousins' friends who was able to go to the zoo for the first time ever thanks to our mom.  

Notes came from down the street, neighboring states and even far away places like New York, Massachusetts, Florida, California, and Washington.   We even had memories sent in from London and Prague!   Some people sent photos.   Some hand-wrote multiple notes.  Others typed a brief thought, or in some cases, lengthy recollections.   Notes arrived written on scrap paper, on personalized stationery, and in one case, written in a "Happy Valentine Birthday" card.  A few of the notes were laugh out loud funny, and a few were tear-jerkers.  Quite frankly, neither Al nor I have personally met everyone who sent in a note.   And yet they were more than willing to set aside time in their busy lives to let our mother know they were thinking of her.

To me, that's the best birthday gift of all.

So in the days before we flew down to Florida to celebrate with Mom, I figured out who had sent memories and decided in what order to arrange them.   I wanted a mix of emotions alternating, and wanted to rotate between family, friends, colleagues, etc. to touch on all facets of Mom throughout her life.   I even created a spreadsheet so Al could weigh in on the fun.  [Yes, seriously] My initial plan was to number the envelopes 1 - 60 and insert one memory in each.   However, due to the fact that 70 people responded, I included all memories for each person in his or her own envelope, and occasionally included memories from 2 people in one.   We had to improvise!

At Al's suggestion, I sealed the [very bright] envelopes with fun stickers, instead of using traditional colors or boring gold circles.   Anyone who knows Mom realizes that this was a fantastic choice!

  

As if the gift wasn't personal enough, I wanted to really make it MOM before she even opened an envelope.   Coincidentally I came across an Alice In Wonderland quote while I was collecting memories and knew it would work perfectly with this project.   So, using my mad PrintShop skills I made a card with the quote on the front, and on the inside explained what we had done.   I sent a PDF to Al and she was game.   

So I tucked these beauties into my carry-on Tuesday afternoon, Michael and I flew to Florida and packed up the house.  Al arrived late Friday, and Saturday the whole fam-damily headed to a scrumptious dinner at Primo, 

came back for Zuccotto cake and sang Happy Birthday.  

After we cleaned up the kitchen and put the cake away [such willpower] Al said "Actually, Mummy, we have one more thing for you."

At this point, for some reason, Mom got nervous.   "Is it bad?" she asked.   "No," we cried, "it's fun!"  Mom once again reiterated that she did not want any gifts.   To which we honestly responded, "Well, we did not buy you anything"  Al sat Mom on the couch and I ran upstairs to get the bundle.   You guys--- she was SHOCKED.

As expected, the card did her in before she even got to the memories!   That was not our intention, but once she read what Al and I had done, she started to cry.   Luckily, the laughter far out-weighed the tears.

 

It took Mom more than 2 hours to open and read all the memories.  The subjects varied widely, but we did notice a few common themes illustrating that Mom:

• is an excellent listener
• is extremely fun  
• owns the dance floor 
• loves books  

We, of course, have known all of this for years! 

I also want to point out that more than once in the course of walking down memory lane, Mom shouted Oh My Gosh I forgot about this! or Oh I'm so glad she did not write about some of the other crazy things we used to do or How did you get ahold of ______?   I have not heard from ____ in years!

Selfishly, this is probably the best gift we have ever given to anyone.   It was so much fun to collect these memories and re-live legendary stories, but also learn about our mom.  Many memories took place long before Al and I were born and gave us an even more detailed look at Mom.   And it's weird that despite being on this earth with her for so long, this project allowed us to learn so much.

So, if you ask me, the best gift you could give our Mom was not only a lifetime of adventures, but the chance to remember so many of them again.

Sweet Summer

So it turns out I am enjoying these prompts.   I am trying to catch up because I started late.  This time I am working on June 23rd's topic.    Tell us a favorite summer memory.

When I lived up north, Summer is, by far, my favorite season.    After months of cold and gray weather, we enjoy warmth and sunshine and baseball.  The days are long, the pool is open, and school is out.   (Not that I didn't enjoy school.   I did.  But I also loved summer.)

Growing up with a pool in the backyard certainly spoiled us.  Al and I spent hours and hours swimming, splashing, making up games, diving for rings, and remaining generally water logged for the better part of 3 months.   Eric, our next door neighbor and de-facto sibling, was over almost every day.  We made him talk under water and have us guess what he said.   It was a ridiculous game and we loved it.  Every 4th of July we watched fireworks with Eric and his parents, and often had them over for hot dogs and sparklers before it got dark enough for the fireworks to start.   I have so many photos of us goofing around during the 4th holiday, but they are not scanned!   The below photo was no doubt taken with Eric near by.

A few summers, Mom went to grad school and spent a lot of time with Nene.   We covered a tri-county area fitting in zoo trips, SeaWorld, Cedar Point, visits to the park, and of course, more swimming.  Often during these carefree days, I ate dinner while wearing my swimsuit, and often ate ice cream in the pool.  (Dad sanctioned and still performed)

We caught fireflies, looked at stars, and stayed up "late" watching movies we rented for free at Drug Mart.  You see, my parents were avid weekend movie watchers, and always new releases.  After 10 new release rentals, they earned a free 'old' movie.  My parents never cashed in on this, so Al and I spent many evenings watching and re-watching our favorite movies at no charge to our parents.   We also ate our weight in Combos.  Evenings also included baseball games.   Either on TV or just on the radio, nearly every evening from my junior high career on, I had Indians on the brain.  I even dragged my little boom box out to the pool deck so I could listen to the Tribe while in my favorite place in the world.

In our house, Dad and I were the 'biggest' water babies.  We were up earliest and in the pool first.   This also meant that Dad cleaned and I helped, but it was a small price to pay for being able to enjoy the pool every moment of the day.   

When we were kids we had a small above ground pool that was large enough for floating around and playing.   One of our favorite things to do was to 'double dunk' Dad, in which we would both fill water bottles [from Rax kids meals!] and pour water all over him.   As we got older, this game shifted to mean we tag teamed him and flipped him off the float into the pool.  A double dunk indeed.

As you can see, I have many sweet summer memories.   But I leave you with one that always makes me laugh.  As we got older, a typical weekend included Juj and Dad breakfast outside, pool cleaning, and swimming laps.  Dad was on the East side of the pool, I was on the West side.   We alternated free style, and breast stroke.   Dad backstroked, and I kickboarded.  (Jules + backstroke = disaster) Kicking in the pool was loud and did not allow for conversation but we were united in our swim.

We often ended up on floats as the morning turned to afternoon.   One day in the late 90s (I think I was in high school, so I am guessing on the year), Mom and Al were inside and Dad and I were relaxing.  I was not asleep, but Dad might have been.   My eyes were closed, but it was sunny and I was chilling out.  Our relaxation was short lived.  All of a sudden, Dad and I were covered in ice and freezing.

You see, Mom had come up with a scheme that she and Al would fill pitchers with ice and sneak out the front door (not the back door by the pool) so we would not hear anything.  They then walked through the side yard to sneak up on us, and doused us with ice.   Dad and I both screamed, fell off our floats, and burst into laughter.  

Something you have to know about my mom is she is not the type to play these types of tricks.  She has a sense of humor and is fun and wacky, but this is atypical.   We never would have thought her as the mastermind.   I think that's what makes it so funny looking back.  It was MOM who was doing it!  Ganging up on her own kid, and encouraging the other one to help.

Father's Day: Why My Dad is the Best

Today we celebrate Dad.  My Dad great up outnumbered in a house full of women.   It was three to one, with two daughters and of course my mom.  Then when I was eleven, we adopted a cat.   Against his wishes.   And she was a girl, too.  

But one of the good things about growing up in this environment is that as a girl, you learn how to do all kinds of useful stuff.   Like how to help put up [or take down] a snow fence (I grew up in the North, y'all).   How to winterize a swimming pool.  

How to caulk a bathroom sink.   How to unclog a toilet.  How to paint a room - and the ceiling!  How to make dinner when Mom's not around.  How to drink egg nog the 'right' way.   For those who wonder, it's with 'extra nog' from the liquor cabinet.

How to spin the aerial antenna toward Toledo to watch Browns games on Sunday afternoon.  How to change window screens on Derby Day. How to eat a ridiculous amount of ice cream in one sitting.

 And, evidently, how to rock a baseball cap.   For reasons unknown we called these Spanky hats.

I have learned much from both of my parents.   But my dad has always had a way of saying things in a funny way to make us laugh (or at times, cringe).  For example, a hard rain is known as a "frog strangler" if Dad is around.  His jokes are unmatched, and he never lets you win at board games or at cards or at anything else, really.   If you win against Dad, you earned it.   To this day, I am a competitor in every game I play and I don't let people win.  That is 100% because of Dad.....  for better or worse!   Dad can be a cornball at times, but he is also one of the most honest and straightforward people you'll ever meet.   I like to think those traits are pumping through my veins too!   He also has a ton of expressions to teach you lessons- like fables but wittier.  I really need to have him write them all down because I can't remember them all.

A few gems from Dad:

If you fail to plan, you plain to fail
Measure twice, cut once
If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is
The school of hard knocks has the most expensive tuition

If you stop by for a visit on a summer day, and Dad is washing the family cars, he'll wash yours too.  Just ask Hannah.  

And if you're hungry, he'll grill you something for a snack.   Even if you don't ask for it, he'll offer you a 'frozen treat'  If you go into labor and your husband is not home, Dad will take you to the hospital.  Just ask my aunt.  

As if the jokes weren't a giveaway, Dad loves to laugh and kid around.    It was his idea to do the stunt, below.   Last September Al and I recreated the scene nearly 20 years later....  if only he was in town, too, to join the madness!

                      


So, I know it's just one day to celebrate Dad, but if you have an awesome Dad, like my sister and I do, try to celebrate him every day.   He deserves it!  As always, I leave you with one of my most favorite pieces ever written.

Paul Harvey's "What Are Fathers Made Of"

A father is a thing that is forced to endure childbirth, without an anesthetic.

A father is a thing that growls when it feels good–and laughs loud when it’s scared half to death.

A father never feels entirely worthy of worship in his child’s eyes. He never is quite the hero his daughter thinks, never quite the man his son believes him to be. This worries him, sometimes, so he works too hard to try and smooth the rough places in the road for those of his own who will follow him.

A father is a thing that gets very angry when school grades aren’t as good as he thinks they should be. He scolds his son although he knows it’s the teacher’s fault.

Fathers grow old faster than other people.

And while mothers can cry where it shows, fathers stand there and beam outside–and die inside. Fathers have very stout hearts, so they have to be broken sometimes or no one would know what is inside. Fathers give daughters away to other men who aren’t nearly good enough so they can have grandchildren who are smarter than anybody’s. Fathers fight dragons almost daily. They hurry away from the breakfast table, off to the arena which is sometimes called an office or a workshop…where they tackle the dragon with three heads: Weariness, Work and Monotony.

Knights in shining armor.

Fathers make bets with insurance companies about who will live the longest. Though they know the odds, they keep right on betting. Even as the odds get higher and higher, they keep right on betting more and more.

And one day they lose.

But fathers enjoy an earthly immortality and the bet is paid off to the part of him he leaves behind.

I don’t know where fathers go when they die. But I have an idea that after a good rest, he won’t be happy unless there is work to do. He won’t just sit on a cloud and wait for the girl he’s loved and the children she bore. He’ll be busy there, too…oiling the gates, smoothing the way.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas - or is it?

Recently, Leah at agirlandaboy (one of my favorite blogs for those keeping track!) wrote about her Christmas traditions and thoughts about changing things up this year due to travel.  The comments were fascinating....  I kept going back to read more about what people do in their homes.

For better or for worse, I compare myself to others.  It's not my best personality trait, but I do it.   Is she a faster runner than me? (probably!)  How does s/he organize the pantry?  etc. etc. etc.  I think that is why I have a mild addiction to Pinterest and blogs in general.  I am curious.

Anyway---- Leah's post got me thinking about how we did Christmas when Al and I were kids, and how things have changed as we got older, but more accurately, since I got married and don't spend Christmas Eve or morning at 'home'  THE HORRORS

As kids, we used to all go to Christmas Eve Mass, presented by the children.  It was, and remains, very entertaining.  We then headed home to eat spaghetti and put the finishing touches on party set up- Mom has hosted the big family since I was in junior high.  (When we were tiny we ate spaghetti and I went to bed early knowing Santa would come.  I was exuberant, what can I say?)

Growing up, Santa wrapped our stuff in ‘santa paper’ and had different handwriting than any person's I have ever seen.  I swear, when I do have kids, my mother will be recruited for the gift tags.  Amazing!  The pile typically included two gifts per person, plus a themed stuff animal, from Santa.  My parents had a few gifts for us mixed in as well, and Al and I always got each other something at school's secret santa shop.  Stockings were hung on the fireplace, with each and every tiny little gift wrapped.  In Santa paper, of course.  Seriously.  My mom must have been cuckoo to have done that- but she did!


Being the Christmas Elf that I am, I always woke up first.  It was so early that it was still dark out.  I would sit in front of the tree for quite awhile waiting for Al to get up- or eventually would get her up myself, if she was super sleepy.  We would sit in front of the tree together looking at all the boxes and the wrapping paper and trying to determine what was in each one.  We didn't pick anything up or shake the boxes-- it was just gazing.

Once Mom and Dad were up, Al and I used to take turns opening gifts, so that we could see who got what.   I never minded alternating, although if we got the same gift, the person who went 2nd was definitely not surprised!  Oh well.

Our ‘big family’ gathering was – and remains- a free for all.  One or two people pass out gifts to everyone else seated in the room.   Al and I have taken on this role the past few years- which I enjoy! -but I sort of hate the buzz saw aspect of gift opening and sometimes wish people took turns. Then again when there are 25 people it would take hours, so maybe it’s more efficient this way?  I guess I have mixed feelings about how to open gifts with the same number of people active on a MLB roster.

I happen to know that Michael's Santa gifts were NOT wrapped which meant he and his sister had to stay out of the living room till their parents were awake. That would have KILLED me as a kid so in retrospect, I am glad ours were wrapped.

As I got older, I actually made brunch for my sister and parents.  I am not a chef.  Or even a cook.  I will bake you cookies or boil pasta but I just don't cook.  I probably could figure it out, but I have no desire. My husband enjoys it.  What can I say?  I am a lucky girl.

But Christmas was different..... I created delicious menus and was able to put my early bird self to work on Christmas morning and make breakfast while listening to Amy Grant or watching a movie.   That is one thing I actually miss now that we spend Christmas Eve and morning at my in-laws.    I miss making breakfast.  (Don't get me wrong, my mother-in-law's breakfast is fun and I am not all weepy here, just sayin')  Once we have our own nuclear family I am confident I will start this up again.

For the past few years our schedule has been as follows:
December 24: Church with my family, dinner with Michael's, play games
December 25: Morning presents with Michael's family, breakfast, presents with my [small] family, stay at Mom's for the big party, at which point Michael's family will join us again

It's sort of a whirlwind but we are lucky to be able to see both sets of parents relatively easily.

So there is a snapshot of what we have done, and what we do now.  After the requisite comparing via the blog comment section, I am still most fascinated by the wrapped or unwrapped gifts.

What are your Christmas traditions?

Christmas Movie Feature

I had been planning to write an homage to my favorite Christmas movies.  There are several, but my favorite Christmas movie ever also happens to be my Favorite Movie Ever.

It's a Wonderful Life

This movie and I go way back.  I don't remember the first time I saw it, but it was almost certainly on TV in the 1990s.   You see, my parents always went to the Company Christmas Party in mid-December.   Always on a Saturday, it was the fanciest night of the year.  Mom wore a glittery dress, Dad a jacket and tie!  When your Dad works in the steel industry, these items are not frequently donned.

Initially this night meant a babysitter.  Nene or Auntie or sometimes a neighborhood girl.   But when we were young-ish either they couldn't find anyone or they trusted us because Al and I were left Home Alone!   (Another favorite movie for another time)  Our stay-at-home evenings were very exciting.  I made macaroni and cheese for dinner, which is still a requested item when my sister and I are together at home.  We ate in the family room (!) and watched It's a Wonderful Life on TV.   I am sure I had seen parts of it before, but the first time I saw it start to finish was on a Saturday in December with my sister.

Like clockwork, every year, on that same Saturday as the Christmas party, NBC aired It's a Wonderful Life.  I laughed and cried and my sister laughed at me.  She claimed to like Mr. Potter best.

While it's a Christmas movie, the movie is about so much more than that.  Family togetherness, true friendships, the importance of each individual to so many people, and above all, that life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful.

It's a simple film and these messages remain universal.

There are so many 'wonderful' components to this movie, that I encourage you to hop over to The Pioneer Woman's contributor post and get his take.  It's well written and sums up why the movie is still enjoyed by so many.

The Photo Book

My sister is not always known for her proactive behavior relating to gifts.  When we were younger and our non-imagintive relatives would buy us the same darn gift at Christmas, I wrote a thank you card and Al signed her name.   If we need to give a major gift (graduation, wedding, etc) I choose a gift and Al writes me a check for half.  Minimal creativity and brain power involved.

Anyway.   The point of this is not to tease my sister.   It is in fact to sing her praises.  This year, just after Christmas in fact, Al approached me.   Boue, she said.  She calls me Boue, pronounced Boo, as in ghosts.   Have we talked about this?  Boue, I have a really good idea for a gift for Mom and Dad.  You know how you do Apple photo calendars at Christmas?   Well what if for Mother's Day and Father's Day we made them a book that is pictures of us when we were little? 

CREATIVITY AND BRAIN POWER RELATING TO A GIFT!   What an excellent idea!  The catch?  Al was bound for the airport to fly back to her home in the big city.   I was still in Ohio.   Which meant.......    I had the dubious honor of sorting through literally more than 20 photo albums full of family photos.   Luckily my mother is OCD about organizing photos.  Like crazier than me OCD.    She has every photo since her wedding shower in 1978 in chronological order in albums. It is quite impressive.

So I spent much to long curled up on the floor of the living room sifting through photo albums.  I had to be covert because this was a surprise and Mom tends to pop up at all the wrong times for surprises.   She is notorious.  But through some small grace of God I was able to grab what I needed, throw it in an envelope and take it back to Ithaca with me.

Then!   I spent hours and hours and HOURS scanning 1980s photos.  It was not particularly enjoyable.  But I would do anything for my sister.   After the worst was over, I got to also gather the digital photos I've been taking since college, and arrange the darn things in a book.   How to approach it?   Chronological?  Al pages and Boue pages?   Photos just with mom?   Family photos together?  All Christmas pics on the same page?   The combinations were endless.

But finally it was finished and I placed the order.    I ordered the book in early June after we got back to Florida.   Logic here: Ship it to my house so I could hand carry it home in July for Grandma's 80th and present the gift in person, with Al.    I did not want to risk it arriving at home and my mother, who we know spoils surprises at times, to be tempted.   Plus- I wanted to see it!

I obsessively tracked the order and shipping.  Finally it was delivered as per the FedEx site.   I went onto my porch and --- my doorstep was empty.   (not really- there was a welcome mat)  So I paused a moment and came back inside.  Michael did not hear the bell ring nor did I.  I checked the ground below the porch.  You never know.   Nothing.    So then I took a walk around the neighborhood and checked homes whose addresses are the same digits as ours but in different orders.  Nothing.  So I came back home and called FedEx.   This resulted in a very thorough detective search between customer service managers on the corporate level and local level and all sorts of folks in between.  It was a mess and lasted more than a week.

I explained the gift was for my parents, not an iPod.   The item was sentimental and had no street value, so to speak.   It was time sensitive because of the impending trip home.  Blah dee blah.   Well, turns out the box was delivered to the wrong house.   The driver came back out and drove to the house where he dropped the box and.... it wasn't mine.  At least he admitted it.  But since we live in a resort community and he dropped it off at a rental property I couldn't even ask a neighbor.   That house has no neighbor.

Good news: I called Apple and had the book reprinted and shipped to Ohio.   Of course at this time the darn book was going to arrive AFTER our July trip.   Darn it.  C'est la vie.   It did arrive the following week and Mom and Dad loved it.

Flashforward: Today Michael saw a package on the porch.   It was the original book its cardboard sleeve- not original box.   So here we are 4 months later and the poor sap who thought he was getting a free MacBook Pro opened the damn box and saw it was a book of a bunch of crazy midwesterners with bad 80s fashions.  So I guess they - covertly? - dropped it off today.   Neither one of us saw anyone.  Um way to be late, poor sap.

So I am keeping it.   I have a new coffee table book.  It's just like my parents' book and it's awesome.

Momsie was here again!

Before we celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary, my mom came down for a visit.   Since she's been here a few times, we did not knock ourselves out doing touristy Disney things, and some days we didn't even have an agenda!   That is a big deal for me.   Ok.  I was working those days so it doesn't count.   Whatever.  It's still a big deal, right?

Even so, a trip to central Florida is not complete without a trip to a theme park of some sort, right?

Despite Mom's veteran status in Orlando we did manage to get in some new highlights, including riding the NEW Star Wars ride (ohmygosh!) and visiting perennial favorites Space Mountain and Captain EO.   Outside the theme park, favorite moments include seeing Cirque du Soleil's La Nouba, eating dinner at the delicious Artist Pointe, and taking Mom to a super cool wine store: Total Wine and More.  We also all discovered Menchie's.   Do you know this establishment?   It's good, but I wish it were ice cream.

Below are fun pictures of general mayhem and shenanigans.  What more would you expect?

My favorite Pixar character- he has a friend in me!

Yes, I was the only one who ordered dessert.  Who is surprised?

 Wilderness Lodge is beautiful- the pictures do not do it justice

Familiar sights highlights include: 

Meeting the White Rabbit (first time since 1978 honeymoon)

Riding the darn Teacups (I abstained)

 


Main Street Electrical Parade (first time since 1989)
and by the way, it's just as fun when you are 28 as when you are 5

Don't forget to let me know if you're in the area.   I am always game for fun in Central Florida.  Just please don't make me ride the teacups.

NKOTBSB(IIMen)

Months ago- we were still in Ithaca- I found out that New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys were planning a joint tour in the summer of 2011.  Needless to say I was pumped and declared immediately that I had to go.  The only problem....  where would we be in the summer?   I was sad to not be able to buy tickets, but once we moved back to Florida in June, I figured it would be safe to buy tickets for a late July show.

Michael graciously agreed to go with me, and we bought pretty decent seats.  Friday was the big night and it did not disappoint.   Matthew Morrison opened for them, and he was a little boring when he was just singing.   Definitely needs to keep the dancing as a focal point in the live shows.

But we were really all there for the main event....  NKOTBSB.   They performed for about 2 1/2 hours a lovely mixture of NKOTB and BSB trading off, changing outfits, etc.  I sang along at the top of my lungs along with the other women in the crowd aged late 20s to early 40s.   (Needless to say the lines for the lady's restrooms were UNREAL)

Both bands made a point of reminding us that BSB got their start in Orlando so they were in their hometowns.   At the end of the show, NKOTB said the [big] group decided they wanted to do something special for the homecoming show.   Everything was quiet, and the audience just kind of hung out, waiting for an announcement.

Then, all of a sudden, I heard a chord and the familiar 10,9,8,7...  indicating that Motown Philly was starting.   And that means one thing......
BOYZ II MEN WERE THERE!
Anyone who knows me knows that I live for Boyz II Men.  Own all their albums, have seen them live several times, etc. etc.  As soon as I heard the '10' I turned to Michael and shouted at the top of my lungs NO! FREAKING! WAY!  I was pretty pumped to see New Kids and BSB performing live after all these years, but to see BIIM performing to a sold out arena was pretty damn awesome.

**ADDENDUM**
Pannie sent this article on the NY Post complete with a VIDEO in case you are crazy and want to see it. I found another video from a decent angle where you can see them all singing together.  Very cute.

Had NSYNC or Zack Morris been there, it would have been the ultimate 90s time capsule.


Side note: BoyzIIMen will be at EPCOT in November.  Yes I am going.

When are you going to start dancing to Time After Time?*

Ten years ago this month I attended senior prom with Michael and also prepared to graduate from Lake Ridge Academy.   I spent 13 years at LRA where I made many friends and participated in more activities than I can count.  I recently volunteered to be a class agent and serve on the alumni council, which means I had to also attend the 10-year class reunion this weekend.

Our class had 39 graduates, and 10 of us showed up; not a bad percentage.  The front row includes me and 2 members of our quartet.  Jane was a year younger so it's no wonder she wasn't there.  I've known some of these guys since 2nd grade, and it's very cool that I had a chance to see them again this weekend.

Highlights include seeing everyone, working with Blake (former Student Council ally) to move tables together for dinner, beer on campus, and more specifically, beer during the "2001 kids take a campus tour" segment.  I didn't even want a beer but I grabbed a Sam Adams so we could all hold them in the classrooms.

Elena and I first watched Romy & Michelle's High School reunion when we were sophormores (I think) and the moment had finally come:  We didn't order the business woman's special or have a crush on Billy Christensen or dance to Time After Time, but we did do this.   It was probably the highlight of the night for me.... especially when she showed me how to hold my arms.  Love you, Lenie-Pie!

            

*Lakshman actually asked us this

Monopoly Redesign? Blasphemy!

This...

...is the new Monopoly board.

Can they do this?  I learned this afternoon that the CRAZY folks at Hasbro have created a new version of the beloved Monopoly game.  Evidently this new version, dubbed MONOPOLY: Revolution Edition will be available in Fall 2010, which according to my calendar begins next month.  (Gasp)  Here are the specs, as listed in the press release.

Though the new game still features the traditional streets of Atlantic City, property values have risen to reflect today's prices. Instead of collecting $200, players will take in $2 Million every time they pass GO. Helping them track their millions is an electronic “banker” that also serves as the die, and music player. For the first time, sound effects and music clips from hit songs from five decades, including "Umbrella," "Bad Day" and "Drive My Car," provide a soundtrack throughout the game.

I don't think I like this.  Part of the fun of playing Monopoly is having money in different colors, right?!  Maybe that was only me, enjoying every opportunity I had to color-code my life, even at a young age.  I mean, my dad won every damn time we played.  I had to look forward to something.  Have you ever played a board game with my dad?  It's an experience.  Once, Al, Dad and I played the same game of Monopoly for days.  Eventually he had so much property with houses and hotels, my sister was taking out mortgages on her own properties in order to land on his.  And she was young!  Definitely younger than 10.  So clearly, the colorful money was a highlight among that torture.   Side note:  Thanks to Dad and his ruthless playing, I regularly win all board games I play today.  But back to the game.  In addition to eliminating the opportunity to hone one's math skills, this new system eliminates the die?  No rolling?  What do you do?  Press a button and see how many spaces the 'banker' says you can move?

And getting nit-picky, I also find the wedge-shaped properties to be odd.....

Who wants to live on a lot shaped like this?  And as a side note, they have REMOVED Community Chest and Chance cards!!!!!  Dude.  I cannot handle this.

The 'sound effects' they are including are quite disturbing.  What the hell?  MUSIC during MONOPOLY?!  No thanks. Batteries do not belong in Monopoly, if you ask me.  I suppose adjusting the prices for inflation is a practical change, but this is a board game, folks.  Not reality, per se.  I mean, I have gone to jail countless times in Monopoly, but not real life.  And for the record, in my mind, Boardwalk will always cost $400.  Not $4 million, or whatever it is, adjusted for inflation.

But the most bothersome, and the LEAST OK?  The new plastic playing pieces!  Where is my metal iron?  Thimble?  Scottie dog?

While this is clearly ridiculous, there is a saving grace..... it appears that Hasbro will continue to distribute the original, classic, (correct) version of Monopoly.  I, for one, hope no one buys this piece of junk.  Monopoly is not Monopoly without metal playing pieces, rainbow colored money, dice, and a square board.

Who is your best friend, and how did you meet?

Every month Glamour magazine (yes I read it) poses this question to various staff members and publishes their answers.  I usually don't give these pages much thought, but this one caught my interest:
Who is your best friend, and how did you meet?

Well.  I have more than one best friend (hi Ash and Pannie!), but the story of how Ash and I met is not so exciting.  We were both in University choir, both altos, and both in the back row.  She had on a Harvard sweatshirt, stuck out her hand, said "I'm Ashley," I said, "I'm Julia," and the rest was history.  We are actually very exciting, dynamic people.  The how we met story is probably the least exciting thing about us.  So now I move on to the Pannie/Jules story.  She likes to say "Jules loves the story of how we met, even though it makes her look like a high maintenance priss and me like a judgmental fool"  You be the judge.

The story is best told from her point of view, but since this is my blog and not hers, I shall attempt.  Pannie and I were in the same freshman English class.  As it was the first day, I was dressed in preppy mode with my blue camp shirt, khakis and sandals.  I had a shiny red pencil case on the table and had my binder, pens and highlighters all lined up.  I got to class early and had time to prepare myself.  Pannie walked in a few minutes later and sat down.  Truthfully, I don't remember her walking in or looking at me.  But later on I learned that she saw me and my outfit and my seemingly high-maintenance self and shuddered to herself.  I was not flagged as friend material.  (What's funny is the girl she thought would be nice on the first day turned out to be one of the 5 most annoying people on AU's campus, if not the entire East Coast, including the Bronx)  I was also vocal and evidently quite annoying in class, because she did not warm up to me.

The following week choir rehearsal began.  I think I noticed Pannie as a recognized face, but didn't think much about it.  She noticed me, though.  I was wearing my Furman University (FU) hat, which is always an excellent conversation starter.  Coincidentally, Pannie was familiar with this school, but she was none too pleased to see me in choir rehearsal.  Oh no, she's an alto in choir and she is in my English class?  Poor Pannie was beginning to wish me into oblivion.

It gets better!  Not long after these encounters, she was talking to a friend in the friend's dorm room and heard my voice.  Turns out her friend was my neighbor.   I cannot get away from this girl!  Not only did she see me in class and choir, she heard me in the dorm hallways!   This is a regular issue: hearing me before seeing me.

Truth be told, I do not remember the turning point where we talked and she realized I was acceptable and I thought she wanted to talk to me and we became friends.  But we had an assignment in English class where we had to do a peer review.  This normally ridiculous exercise requires you to trade papers with a classmate and critique their work.  Pannie was my partner.  She wrote about the French Horn she inherited from Aunt Jane.  It was a Geyer.   I don't remember what I wrote about.  I suppose that was when we learned that not only were we good writing buddies, but she lived down the hall from me, across the bridge that connected two dorm buildings.  We began visiting each other and having dinner at TDR, and hanging out with Ashley, too.  We were an excellent trio, the three of us.   We watched Friends together, and also enjoyed the 2002 Winter Olympic Games, where we witnessed a drug bust!

Finally, Pannie's attitude toward my high maintenance prissiness changed completely and we actually were roommates the following year.  During this period of time we had bunkbeds and most nights I put my feet on the underside of her mattress (she was top bunk) and silently pushed her mattress up to the ceiling.  It was high hilarity, I tell you.

Ode to Crayola

This will not be the first time I've referenced the great crayon makers on this blog.  Awhile ago I discovered an online quiz celebrating Crayola's 50th birthday.  Ever since I was a small fry, I have been fascinated by the Crayola 64 box.  Not only was there a sharpener in the back (!), but there were so many colors that could be arranged light to dark, dark to light, or if you were feeling exceptionally artsy, primaries in one compartment, pastels in another, metallics over here, etc. etc. etc.  So many opportunities for color-coding and imposing order on the great rainbow of a box.  I tried to keep like colors together... in other words, pinks and reds away from the blues and greens.  And if you took out three crayons at once, you better put them back in their original places and not rotate them throughout the box.  Perhaps a little OCD?

And the markers were even worse, as the smelly Mr. Sketch markers had a photo on the front showing the 'proper' order the rainbow of colors should be stored in their styrofoam* tray.  (The tray appears to be cardboard now, in case you wondered) You can ask my sister... I would not allow anyone to replace my markers in their tray unless they corresponded to their spot on the box.

In high school and college I had a different color binder for each class, with a matching highlighter to mark the textbooks and to easily recognize important dates on a calendar.  Biology test on Monday?  It'll be written in green.  English paper due Thursday?  That's the yellow one.  I continue this craziness on my post-student wall calendar, but have graduated to rainbow sharpie markers in lieu of highlighting.

What can I say?  I enjoy both order and color-coding.  My sister, forever the AP Chem student, often reminds me that I am abnormal: "Nature is not color-coded or organized.  It's entropy; nature tends from order to disorder.  It's natural to be messy."  But I never enjoyed or excelled in Chemistry.  If I can color-code something, I will.  Markers, crayons, binders, social events, or my closet.

Yes, these are all ribbed (mostly Gap) tank tops arranged by color on a shelf.  What can I say?  Call me if you ever need help organizing.

*Do you guys remember when it was OK to use styrofoam?  Marker trays were made out of it, Big-Mac boxes, Dixie cups.  And call me crazy, but when I'm drinking a hot beverage, I would much prefer a styrofoam vessel to a paper one with a 'sleeve' around the middle to keep my hands from burning.  It doesn't work, folks.  The drink gets cold and I burn my fingers.  One of the few things from the 1980s for which I am nostalgic.  Styrofoam, CareBears, Fraggles..... I smell another blog entry

Volunteer with the Muppets

Gonna make a Sentimental Journey, to renew old memories

I've had these feelings for quite some time, but something this weekend triggered it. We went to Target to do 'registry completion' which is really a way for the stores to still make a buck off of you after your wedding. (or baby is born, or whatever you're registering for) The way it works is quite simple: any items left on the registry post-event are yours, at a 10% discount. Wonderful. Since we registered for (and did not receive) a $300 vacuum, this was music to our ears. And we had gift cards! But grrrrr Target didn't have much of anything we actually registered for IN STOCK! (Including the vacuum) How ridiculous.

Anyway, my point has nothing to do with household electrics. After we paid for our other items, using our gift cards, the cashier asked 'Do you want these back?' Call me crazy, but what in the world would I do with used up, empty pieces of plastic? Do people actually keep them because they have a wedding dress or appropriately themed picture on the front. (Note that one of our cards was a neon green frog- doesn't scream wedding does it? That's my sister for you) I am sure I gave the poor woman a look when I said 'Oh, no, thanks' What am I going to do with an empty gift card? Glue it in my wedding scrap book and say "Oh remember my wedding shower, when I got a Target gift card?" Doubtful. Where would it end? Should I keep the wrapping paper, too?!

Why do people get so hung up over objects? It's a THING! Sometimes they will reason with you by saying "Oh I can't get rid of that. Grandma gave it to me when I was 10" Well, ok. But since you are now 35, the item is not so relevant, is it? And, by the way, it's a ceramic bowl that you dropped and is broken into 3 pieces, so Grandma would probably think you were being silly. Even if an item is still 'good' there is no reason to keep it because of the recipient. It was made in China. Moving on.

I treasure photos. For some reason I cannot get rid of them. The digital era has been good to me since I can store them on my computer instead of albums. But most other things do not tug at my heartstrings.

My mom is in the process of getting rid of my childhood bed and getting a new bed that fits two people, so that when her newly married daughter and son-in-law are around, there will be space. She asked if I was attached to the furniture before she attempted to get rid of it. My answer was, of course, 'not so much'. My grandparents bought the complete set-2 beds, 2 dressers, bookshelf, desk, vanity- in 1963 (a year before Grandpa died) so it does have some family history. Mom and Auntie slept on those beds for years, did their homework on the desk, and brushed their hair at the vanity mirror. Then Al and I inherited them, used the pieces daily, and they've been in Mom and Dad's house for 25 years. It's time for them to go. My sister and I are grown adults (though we may not always act like it!) and are past the white furniture stage of our lives. We're not getting rid of a family member or the memories we've had playing on the furniture. Especially the one when we used to hang off one of the posts and pretend we were garbage men. Those will always be in our minds, but the furniture, and anything else you decide to part with, is just a thing.

Can you tell me how to get, How to get to Sesame Street

Thanks to creativity on the part of Google, many folks are aware of Sesame Street's 40th birthday today. In fact, Google has been helping us remember for the past week.

I had a very pleasant childhood for many reasons. One very important reason is the fact that I spent many many hours watching Sesame Street with my mom and my sister. And during reruns on Saturday, Dad too.

I learned a lot from the program and its cast, though this list is in no way comprehensive:

• The difference between near and far, over, under, around and through (Grover)
• Monsters are not scary
• C is for Cookie which is good enough for me!
• Lots of elementary Spanish, such as counting (Maria), Cerrado means 'closed' (Miami Mice and Ernie), and Peligro means 'danger' (Placido Flamingo)
• It's OK to rewrite song lyrics (Don Music & Kermit the Frog)
• If you can't sleep, don't count loud items (Bert & Ernie)
• When in the jungle, you must talk quietly (Guy Smiley)

And, most importantly, the fact that deep down, We Are All Earthlings

Goodbye, Reading Rainbow

I have just learned (via Pannie's status on facebook) that Reading Rainbow is ending today. My sister and I loved that show. As young children with no cable TV our television programs consisted of Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, and Reading Rainbow. Zoobilee Zoo was added to our repertoire soon after, and as we got older, Ghostwriter and Where in the World is Carmen San Diego? I actually think that not watching much TV was good for us. We read books, played out all sorts of make believe scenarios, and drew under the coffee table. (Literally. The underside of the wood is covered with markers. Dad didn't even know till a couple years ago!) But the shows we did watch had an impact; I'm fairly certain that on more than one occasion, I went to the library with a list of book titles I learned about while watching Reading Rainbow. I haven't watched the show in years, but I am still saddened that no new episodes will be created.

At least I still know the theme song

Butterfly in the sky, I can go twice as high

Take a look, it's in a book... Reading Rainbow!