November 14, 2000

Upswing

Warm-Fuzzy Alert!

For those of you who are allergic to warm-fuzziness, mushiness, or general sappiness of any type, please skip this section. I promise to return to my regularly scheduled dry wit and nuggets of wisdom (heh) tomorrow.

Are the cynics gone? Yes? Okay, let's get down to some serious warm, wonderful, towels-fresh-out-of-the-dryer feelings, here. The whole family is on one of those cycles where everybody loves everybody else. Marie and Michael give each other hugs [boggle]. Calvin and I revolve around each other like twin suns stuck in each other's gravitational pull (whoa, slow down, Laura. This is gonna end up sounding like a cheap romance novel). We've had no recent reason to get aggravated at Michael - he's actually doing quite well, lately (oversleeping and missing school aside). Marie actually *cleaned out the kitchen closet* without even being asked. And got five A's and three B's on her report card. The dogs haven't messed up the house. The cat hasn't vomited. The ferret has had two baths recently and stinks substantially less.

Last night Calvin and I had a wonderful evening. I love it when he gets on his attentive kicks. Which isn't to say he's not attentive all the time, just sometimes he puts it in high gear. He tells me he loves me, says I'm beautiful, and constantly wants to be in contact. We snuggled on the couch and watched TV (Ally McBeal, which seems to be improving with the addition of Robert Downey. I've always liked him). Then he drew us a bath and we soaked and snuggled and washed each other's backs. Then we went in the bedroom and did... other things... while giggling and tickling and behaving like teenagers. Seems the stress of "life" is finally lifting, and we can get back to normal. Because this all-over-each-other stuff is completely normal for us. I so completely lucked out with Calvin. Sometimes I still find it hard to believe such an accomplished, handsome, humorous, intelligent, sexy guy wants to be with little ol' me. I've known him for over seven years now, and we have yet to run out of things to talk about. We gab each other's ears off on a regular basis. I tell him frequently that I'm as comfortable being around him as I am when I'm by myself. He understands what I mean -- you can be completely yourself, at ease, and off-guard when you're alone. I can be the same when I'm with him, and vice-versa. It's a very significant thing to be in *like* with the person you're with, as much as be in *love* with them.

Shelley recently commented that it can sometimes be nauseating to other people to observe two best friends in love. I so totally know what she means. We get so cutesy-wootsey sometimes it's pathetic. And no, I won't tell you about all the pet names we have for each other. Besides, some of them just aren't very flattering in the view of outsiders - you'd have to understand the history behind them. Otherwise they just sound like insults. Well, not that harsh, maybe, but still not things you would expect to be a *pet* name.

I lucked out with how well the kids and I get along, too. The rose I received is one example of how they show their affection toward me. They also compliment me on my cooking (which tickles me), and actually notice the things that are done for them. It's a rare thing when teenagers notice the goings-on around them, when it's related to the smooth runnings of a household. I know I took my grandmother's efforts for granted, I'm sure I did. Marie and I chatter on forever (mostly related to who she's "going out" with at school), and Michael asks for hugs at bedtime. He's seventeen!

It's all quite wonderful, and I hope I get across to them all how much I love and appreciate them. We all get tired and cranky at one another, that's just life and normality (good heavens, when did I get "normal"?). But as far as families go, we like each other more than any other family I've ever known or experienced.

Okay, warm-fuzzy session over. The cynics can come back now.

I had a team luncheon with AcronymCo peers today, and since it coincided with when I was supposed to pick Marie up from school (half-day), the hostess suggested I bring her along. Luckily she has good manners when she's around *strangers*. Can't say it always holds true at home, but at least she brings 'em out and brushes 'em off when it's important.

And, joy of joys, I seem to be coming down with a cold. Yippee-kie-yay. I have that feeling in the back of my throat like I've been chewing Big Red for too long, my head feels "off", and I get dizzy if I stand up too fast. I foresee a day of playing hookey in my future.


Your Mission, should you choose to accept it...


We all think of going away, driving some distance to go somewhere, when we have spare time. The next day you have off, find someplace new in your own hometown - a park, a restaurant, a cultural center, etc. - that you wouldn't have considered before. Or re-visit an old favorite you haven't been to in a while.

Results From Yesterday's Mission


I've lived in the same house for (thinking)... going on seven years. In all that time I've had the same neighbors, all around me. They have been relegated to being called "The people behind us", "The crazy lady across the street", "The Mexicans" (to the right of us), and "Rory and Cara's mom" (to the left of us). It's "Rory and Cara's mom" who I had a conversation with. I was putting some blinds into the back of the Suburban (for yet *another* trip to Home Depot! They were the wrong size), and she was watering her lawn. She's a divorced lady, in her 40's, whose kids (that'd be the aforementioned "Rory" and "Cara") hung out a little bit with Michael. I never learned her name. I'm ashamed to admit I *still* don't know her first name, but I know her last name. So, "Rory and Cara's mom" became "Mrs. H." She knows my first *and* last name, so now I'm too embarrassed to ask her for her's. I suck. At any rate, we spoke of mutual issues raising a 17-year-old boy, how her daughter is doing, how Marie's doing, our mutual jobs, (how much the home owner's association sucks), the HIPFH(tm), the pets, her plans for her yard, and the fact that we should hang out more often. I've got to figure out a way for Calvin to learn her first name in casual conversation. He hasn't lived in the house as long as I have, so maybe he has a valid excuse (as opposed to my invalid excuse) not to know her name. Have I mentioned that I suck?



I grabbed the design idea for the box thingy from Anna.


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Original content belongs to ME. Exceptions are noted.
©Laura Charon 2000.