Thursday, January 1, 2009

Happy New Year! I think!

Today being the first day of 2009, I have been reflecting on the things in my life that I feel need to change.  This has me very depressed.  The way I can tell if I'm depressed is as follows: I watch an extraordinarily bad, cheesy, cliche movie about an underdog who makes good, and if I cry, I'm depressed.  The worse the movie is, the more severe my depression.

Today, I watched one of the "Bring it On" movies.  The one with the indestructible cheerleader from "Heroes," before she was indestructible, and Beyonce's obnoxious younger sister.  This is a terrible movie.  It makes the original "Bring it On" look like "Dangerous Liaisons."  For those who haven't seen it, all I need to tell you is that the climax is a no-holds-barred cheer-off between the white school and the "ghetto" school moderated by a pre-superstardom Rhianna.  The "ghetto" school changes out of cheerleader outfits into their miraculously coordinated "ghetto" streetwear and street-cheer-krump-dances the white squad off the floor.  It was at this point that I began to tear up.  When the ghetto school was actually permitted to appear in a video for "Pon the Replay," I began to sob.

In short, I must be quite depressed.  I'm thinking of pulling out my old standby, "Girls Just Want to Have Fun," starring Sarah Jessica Parker and Helen Hunt, just to revive myself.

However, this morning I was surprised by a pretty decent movie.  It was called "In Her Shoes," I think, and it was about two sisters (Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette) who find their grandmother (Shirley MacLaine) and explore the mystery surrounding the death of their mother.  The Toni Collette character, Rose, really spoke to me- she has a closet full of gorgeous, expensive shoes that she never wears, because she's afraid of them getting messed up or looking silly in them.  She's a responsible lawyer who takes care of everybody else.  Cameron Diaz' character, Maggie, is the total opposite.  During the movie, they each have to learn to be more like each other, and it actually is very sweet.

I'm so much like Rose, in a lot of ways.  This year, I am going to "wear my shoes" more.  I'm going to try and get out there, enjoy what I have, and stop worrying so much about what I don't.  I'm not going to try to lose weight, I'm going to try to be healthier.  I'm going to try to readjust my attitude about things, and focus on the fun and good times.

Happy New Year!  I must be feeling better...I just watched "The Waterboy" and didn't shed a tear.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Adieu, Notre Petite Maison

Something that 2008 will always be, in my mind, is the year of Ike.  Hurricane Ike hit us during the second week of September, and the effects still linger.  Sven and I were lucky- no real damage to the house, no long-term loss of power- but the communities and landmarks so dear to us were not so lucky.

On Monday, we decided to drive down to Crystal Beach and see for ourselves what became of Sven's childhood vacation home.  This house was a huge part of his life, and remained so after we met and married.  It was our first home together.  Sven's mother sold it in 2002, but we miss it.  Here it is now:

Even though it wasn't ours anymore when the storm hit, it was still a hard thing to see.  Most of Bolivar Peninsula still has no power; when we went to board the ferry to cross to Galveston the landing was lit by portable lights and generators.  There wasn't a functioning gas station, restaurant, or supermarket that we saw.

Please keep the people of the Bolivar Peninsula, Galveston, Smith Point, High Island, and other communities hit hard by the storm in your thoughts.  I promise more humor and fun in tomorrow's post.

Sunday, December 28, 2008


It was a solemn occasion.  The excitement of the gathered crowd was palpable.  Cameras flashed, conversations were conducted in a subdued murmur, and all became silent as the graduates filed into the room.

There were ten of them, clearly feeling the import of the occasion.  After all, it is not every day that one graduates from Nursery.  They walked into the Primary room and took their places in the Sunbeam row, conscious of their elevation from babyhood to that of the Primary child- aloof, mature, sanguine.

The nursery leader called them up, one by one, to accept their certificates.  Heedless of convention, this group of free spirits had the confidence to wander around the room, talk to the electrical outlets, scream for daddy, and pick their noses.  They are individuals.  They do what feels right.  I have to respect that kind of integrity.

And, in the middle of it all, was my first born.  Deb Jr., in her lavender Easter dress, black tights, and white shoes, handling it all with her customary poise.  "Mommy!" she cried.  "I can't sit here!"

"Sit there!" Mommy hissed from behind the piano.  "Don't make me count to five!"  Of course she made me count to five, knowing that I couldn't get up from behind the piano until the "Hello Song" was complete.  

But, then, they don't let just anyone graduate from Nursery.  Only the most special, intelligent, beautiful children (by which I mean, "children with birthdays within the calendar year 2005") graduated from Nursery today.  Next week, she'll be a Sunbeam, and I'll be much, much older.