“Right now we're stading at a massive point of rebirth.” Lars Ulrich, Metallica

I've been pondering how to write about today.  This is the day my baby boy finishes elementary school.  As coincidence would have it, it's also one of my best friend's divorce day.  Heavy day to take in.

At first I thought I'd use some quotes to reflect the day.  There is such change, such bittersweet, such melancholy.  But I'm just not sure these two events deserve the same feelings.

When you are in a child's life, the downfall, as I've said many times, is if you do your job, they move on.  The clear sign that I've given that child the support and tools they need is when they leave.  Or distance themselves.  Or grow up.  My boy is ready for the next challenge.  *sigh*

Divorce is a different kind of change.  It shares the same bittersweet and melancholy, but is entirely different.  I can't bring myself to type if you've done your marriage well because there is too much gray in that area.  When people get divorced, that doesn't mean they failed.  You give it your all, and sometimes, beyond control, it doesn't work.  Sometimes people grow and change in positive, distinctively different ways.  Sometimes dark times cannot be forgiven and forgotten.  My son and my friend's events share change and future, but divorce is plagued with the difficult challenge of rebirth.

So today I watch my friend and my son move forward.  Hesitantly move forward.  Change and growth are in the air.  So is a sadness of all that's left behind.

What do I write to them?

To my dear friend:  Learn and grow from the darkness.  Embrace the warmth to come.  You deserve all the friendship and love in the world.  If times get tough, just remember that tomorrow will be better.  You always have me.  And beer. 

Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself and love yourself to become a new person.”

― Gerard Way

“Fear, uncertainty and discomfort are your compasses toward growth.”

"Sometimes, good things fall apart, So better things can fall together." 
 - Marilyn Monroe

For my son:  You have been a wonder to watch through these years.  You came into this world a silly blue eyed boy, and continue to live life with that happiness.  You are focused and serious, and then goofy and funny.  I love this balance you have.  I think it will serve you well in life.  You strive for greatness, which will be yours.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed:
Yes!  You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!
-Dr. Seuss

For both of you.  When you feel scared.  When you feel frustrated.  When your locker won't open or you feel lonely:

"Taking one foot and putting it in front of the other, that is the only way to travel forward...If however you take steps forward whilst looking backward; well -then you will fall over because you end up tripping over something you would easily have seen if looking where you were going in the first place. So, when looking back just stay still for a moment, allow yourself to reflect, but then you must at some point turn around and just keep moving - or you will stagnant on the spot which means going nowhere at all."

 -Jacquelene Close Moore

Time for some change

For a brief span in seventh grade, a group of my friends nicknamed me patsy.  Not because I could belt out Blue like the legendary Patsy Cline.  Because I was, well, a patsy. 

They were amused that they could ask me to do anything, and I would.  Could you get this for me?  Could you do this for me?  Yup.  It looked like a sign of weakness to them.  Amusement.  They didn't understand that this tolerance and kindness would shape who I am today.

Those of you that know me, and my tiger of a personality, are probably puzzled by this.  I know, I can be fierce.  But you also have to notice that I am kind.  I may back you in a corner with fire in my eyes, but I will also never say no to a favor.  My insides are truly marshmallow softness.

My Gandhi-like nature has served me well in life.  You really do catch more flies with honey than manure.  Recently, I encountered something I didn't think I had the softness, or strength, to do.

A year or two ago, I was involved in a real life drama of women.  It was brutal and infuriating.  I racked up a few enemies, and shed a few tears.  Women of the 'burbs can be brutal, especially over territory. 

Time has passed.  Many of my wronged friends have not forgiven or forgotten.  I'm not good at holding grudges.  I try to forgive, and I truly don't have the capability to remember how mad I was in the first place.

Here's how I see it.  These moments in life are an opportunity to reflect on yourself.  Clearly I can't be innocent in these situations, even if I do feel like the victim.  Did it have to go down like that?  Could I have handled it differently?  It's a learning experience for all involved.

Also, there has to be good in just about everyone, right?  I mean, let's exclude serial murderers and dictators... but the rest have people that like them.  There has to be a reason.

One woman is in my life whether I want it or not.  We have kids the same age, and are at the school together.  It just makes practical sense for us to get over this.  She has been nothing but supportive and nice to me since the "incidence."  This got me wondering if we both got tied up in someone else's fight, on opposite sides.

My son was invited to play at their house.  When I went to their house... I stayed for an hour.  I chatted with this woman.  I heard funny stories.  We shared parenting stories.  I discovered something.

I really like her.

In a different situation, I think we would have instantly been friends.  Sadly, we took a long and difficult road instead. 

Our youngest kids are in second grade.  That's a whole lot of years to mend fences.  I don't know if others relationships will ever forgive and forget.  I don't know if others will ever get to this place.  I don't know if damage others have done will effect all future chances for the bystanders to be friendly.

I'm happy to report that I see a slow, healing friendship in the works.  We may never be best friends, but that's okay.  I feel peaceful and happy leaving the past behind.  I enjoy getting to know her.  I see the possibility of drinking coffee together in our future.

Maybe I'm a patsy.  But I'm a happy patsy, with a happy heart, that always has room for kind people in my life.

Origin of the smart girls

People misunderstand the smart girls club.  Friends get bent out of shape that they aren't "in" the club.  I regularly get comments like, "I guess I'm not smart enough to hang out with the smart girls."

All wrong, people.

A group of women become friends.  One endures a life change, and the others rise to the occasion to support.  This bond transcends time and distance.  We are a support group.

In humor, we originally referred to our pack with a rather raunchy, saucy name.  Realizing this name was not share worthy, we humorously changed it to smart girls club.

But what does that mean?

Smart choices. We know when to call a spade a spade, and we don't have time for game players, dishonesty, or general meanness.

We are the opposite of mean girls.  Doesn't mean we are necessarily nice, we're just not mean.  Or stupid.  Or fall for anyone or anything that doesn't treat us with the respect we deserve.

We don't tolerate meanness and we accept all.  We back each other up, but conquer with kindness.  We walk in others shoes, lend a hand, and supply a shoulder when needed.

It's been a blessing in my adult life to find women that I can relate to.  I'm happy being a geekilicious girl, and have my own people to rely on.

Between the five of us, we have four daughters and seven sons.  I'm happy to report that our mini-smart girls are making wise, happy choices in life.  We have the quirky, intelligent, self confident girls.  They choose friends wisely, and can tell someone to shove it.  You don't take advantage of our mini-smart girls.

It takes a village to raise a child, and I'm happy that the village raising my kids is made of solid people.

What's your sign?

Everyone I know is divorced!  Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it feels real.  I never wish this life changing hardship on any of my friends.  But...

I sort of found a selfish silver lining to this predicament.  I get to be the ultimate wingman.  I get to meet new people, go out and have fun.  I never have to give out my number, have my hopes crushed, or feel vulnerable.

My friends and their lonely hearts feel jaded, cautious, afraid, excited, and every emotion in between.  I just get to drink beer.  I introduce myself to everyone "I'm Sam.  I'm very old and very married."  Most still talk to me.  A few walk away-

While my friends are trying to sort through their real life loneliness, they encounter a lot of asses.  Seriously.  I'm beyond puzzled by this.

Guys in the bar scene are, generally, total tools! 

While there are some really good phrases I've witnessed, I can only repeat the pg ones:

-how married are you?
-nice boobs.
-that girl is young- you can tell 'cuz her ass hasn't dropped.
-do you want to smoke a bowl?
-you seem like a girl that hands out free samples.
-people wouldn't even notice if we left.
-so is that a solid no?

So what happened?  It's the chicken and the egg scenario.  Were guys asses, and that's how they ended up divorced?  Or were they ruined by a woman/marriage, and have now become skeptical, bitter asses?

I tend to believe that most guys were born kind.  I think there are a lot of broken men out there.  Sad, really.  Too bad we can't fix all of them.

There's no place like gnome

In the midst of my blues, a funny little thing made me smile.  Well, laugh.  Actually, I almost peed my pants.

I have a garden gnome named Gus that I received several years ago.  Love him.  Since then, I have been blessed with occasional gnome gifts from friends and family.  They are strewn and hidden around my house.  Recently, a friend came to visit and one of them came up missing.

Tonight, I received photos from this friend.  Evidence of them whooping it up in a city far away.

Thanks to my friend for the smile.

The trouble with fifth grade

Answer:  Fifth grade.

Question:  When do kids start becoming petty, mean, clique-y, emotional, hormonal, and ruthless?

Listening in on a conversation, I was pained to hear how judgemental and dismissive the kids were about their classmates. 

I tried to remember their maturity level is not that of an adult.  Hah- half the adults I know can't reach this goal!

I tried to remember what it was like being a kid.  The hurtful things you say, the grudges you always forget to hold five minutes later.  I know this is a necessary attribute of childhood.  These relationships teach us how to treat others, what to look for in a friend, and how to be a friend.  The pain and embarrassment is simply a
bi product of the process that lets us grow into confident adults.

I tried to remember that I don't shield my children from pain.  Then again, I can't tolerate them causing pain to others.

Gaining attention of the group, I pointedly said they were mean.  I explained that each and every kid has an entire life they know nothing about.  You may view a person as stupid, angry, trouble... but you don't know their story.  You don't know where that person comes from and what they are dealing with. 

These are exactly the children I reach out to.  Children that don't behave properly probably have a reason.  Sometimes they need support, or food, or just love.

My soapbox lecture fell on deaf ear.  They resumed their judgements almost immediately.  I kicked them out of my house.

However, I will reserve judgement.  I don't know their story either.

The Christmas card list

This time every year, I begin checking our Christmas card list.  Without fail, there are always the newbies to add, the lost and forgotten to strike, and sadly, always one that has passed.

Let me first address the most frequent question:  Why would someone as "green" as me send Christmas cards?  Good question.  I don't send cards.  I send photo cards.  For much of my family and friends, this is their yearly glimpse at my children as they grow.  These are memories.  Every one of those photo cards I receive go into a keepsake box, to preserve the memories.  And my photo cards tell a story.  

Back to the topic... I'm good at math.  I remember in college when I would buy a box of twenty cards and have a few left over.  I remember that moment in time when I had to buy two boxes.  Ahh... so much love to share.

As our family grows, as does our friend list, the number of cards keeps multiplying.  My card list is reaching a growth that revels the Richter scale.

So where do you draw the line?  Family is a must.  Old friends are a treasure, and new friends require tending.  Neighbors are, well, always your neighbors.  Work friends... this is just good public relations.  The beloved staff members at our childrens' school... just want to show our appreciation.

We are planning and scheming our annual card.  The story of my impish kids and their quest to overtake Santa continues.  For the loved ones, old and new, stay tuned. 

This year I am ordering 125 cards.  Ahh... so much love to share.

Thankful...

I always have a hard time digesting the vast amount of thankfulness that comes in November.  Maybe it's my quest to be different.  Maybe it's my un-American way of disliking Thanksgiving.  Maybe it's because while the world is saying they're thankful, the stores are preparing for the onslaught of materialistic capitalism.

Most of the time, I feel thankful.  Not just in November, but in my daily life.  I know my life is blessed.  Perhaps too many blessings to fit in a month.

But I will weigh in on the thankful-palooza...

Perhaps this is just my pragmatic side speaking, (yes... I'm not all dreams and rainbows) but I think the most important thing to be thankful for is good health.  You rarely hear this.  It is, of the many blessings, the most important.  If you don't have your health, how can you begin to enjoy the others?  So I am thankful for my good health.  I am thankful for the health of my family and friends.  This is the foundation for everything else.

While my life is rosy and good, I resent that I cannot socially complain because that makes me ungrateful.  Just because someone else has it worse, why can't I be unhappy with something?  Isn't this often the very power that forces us to change?  Improve?  Accept?  I am thankful that I don't always see my glass half full. 

Many circumstances in my life result from hard work and good choices.  What I am thankful for are the surprises.  The unexpected occurrences.  The serendipitous moments. 

I am thankful for many unexpected things:  children's laughter that leaks out at the wrong time, connecting with someone you didn't expect, warm feelings you get from others, loyal friends that stand by your side, and those oh so bittersweet moments.

Basically dreams and rainbows.

80s night

I’ve been working for the weekend, just to party it up with my friends at the Crystal Ballroom.

We need you tonight at Lola's for 80s night.

The Smart Girls, and other assorted friends, will be burning down the house.

It’s my prerogative that everybody have fun tonight.

We’ll bust a move and whip it… whip it real good.

Call me a wild thing, but girls just want to have fun.

How will I know we’re having fun and it’s not only in my dreams?

When I’m walking on sunshine and I just can't get enough.

When I see you smile, time after time.

If you’re feeling too shy, don’t worry- our lips are sealed.

Sorry this post went round and round.

Smart girls reunion

Excited to report a full reunion of the smart girls club is in the works.

There will be drinking.  There will be dancing.  All five founding members will be there. 

Jen's mojito to go

Stephanie's oscar party

We have the moves.  We can shake it and bake it.  We can laugh at ourselves and get lost in the moment.  We can turn heads and demand attention.

Sassy smartness will be aplenty, outwitting your every move with our spunk.  You can't out talk us with your politics, current events, or philosophy.  We can spin a tale that is outrageous and enlightening.  We make history.

On our way to an adventure...

We are goddesses with our sex appeal and equally comfortable with our girl next doorness.  Whether in jeans or bedazzled shirts, we move the air as we travel.



Waiters, bartenders, band members- beware.  We are in the club, and Stephanie has taken the lead.  Lock up your boys before they go on the possible husband and boyfriend list.

And anything you say or do can and will be reported, blog style.

Watch out Portland, the smart girls are back.

Baby talk

My best friend's daughter currently has a class assigned, high tech baby.  Don't even get me started on the debate about the cost of these high tech babies versus the expense through the welfare system of teenagers with babies.  Not from the same budget, people!

Anyway... I never took a child/family class in high school.  I actually don't remember them as an elective option.  But, we've come a long way since the egg or flour sack of yesteryears.

These babies cry and fuss and need to be fed around the clock.  The experience is to assimilate having a baby.  A difficult baby.  My question is... what is the purpose of this experiment, and does it actually work?

The baby has a scanner embedded to verify the student is actually doing all the work.  The "parent" wears a corresponding bracelet.  Myth number one:  new parents have to do all the work themselves.  Isn't it the first rule of parenting to enlist help?  Doesn't it take a village to raise a child?

This baby needs to be soothed in a variety of computer generated cause and effect situations.  Myth number two:  there is a correct way to soothe a baby.  Finding the solution to lull a baby is a two part process;  the trick, and the maternal instinct.  Neither the baby, nor the parent, have this maternal bond.

Is the theory that kids with these babies will have a light bulb above their head moment when they realize how much their lives would change if they got pregnant?  Myth number three:  a baby is, in itself, a form of birth control for teenagers.  I haven't been a teenager for quite some time, but I don't remember my emotionally and hormonally charged self being swayed by that voice in my head when faced with a cute teenage boy. 

Independent, idealistic teens will balk at the idea of having someone depend on them.  Myth number four:  kids don't want a dependant.  There are girls out there so starved for love, they dream of the idea of having a baby, just so someone will unconditionally love them.  And who thinks having a "pretend marriage" with a guy will deter these longings?

My hope for the future is that my kids won't have kids until they are ready.  All I can do is parent them the best I can.  I believe these years of parenting will trump any mechanical baby.  Therefore, I don't believe kids that lack this parenting will find their purpose over a weekend with a baby doll.

The closest I ever got to having a pretend dependant was a spider Traci and I found at school.  We carried him around for several periods, until he was sadly lost.  I remember making a pencil drawing on a table in the media tech room that said:

Lost.  Richard the spider.  If found, please contact Sam. 

Followed, of course, by a crude sketch for identification purpose.

Never did find Richard, but I didn't have children until I was 27.  Hmmm...

I do... not understand

A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.

George Jean Nathan

This quote has been on my mind lately. 

There was a time when every weekend I was at somebodies wedding.

Then there came the time when I was either attending a baby shower, or making dinner for someone with a newborn.

With a lapse of time, full of life's excitements, I've entered a new stage. 
I don't care for this stage.

Now instead of dressing up, playing baby shower games, or cooking, I am trying to help put my friends back together.

In your twenties, life is still so fresh and idealistic.  We all had beautiful weddings, and a lifetime of plans.  In our thirties and forties, that 50% marriage failure rate seems to be kicking in.

Each year, the amount of friends I watch pick up the pieces is closing in on that divorce statistic.

I have always been a little baffled about marriage and love.  The question is always in the back of my head:  Do you marry compatible love, or passionate love?  There doesn't seem to be a right answer.

In compatible love, you're safe.  You're with your best friend.  Eventually, you may get bored, fall out of love, or feel that you are missing something that may or may not exist.

Passion... ahh, who doesn't love and crave passion?  This also wears off eventually.  When the passion is gone, is there enough left to make it work?  Passion also brings the highs and lows of the heart.  When the tingling wears off, you may be left with a person you argue with, can't get along with.

So do you marry the safe, uneventful love that will provide a long stretch of road through life?  Do you marry the person that melts your heart into pieces, and hope, somehow, it never fades?

The people in comfortable marriages are getting restless.  The people with passionate marriages are slowly burning out.  And those individuals are seeking out the opposite love from their marriage.  And that love, like the one before, is doomed to fail for completely different reasons.

Sadly, I truly believe the answer is that human beings weren't meant to partner up forever.  Either that, or we are just living too darn long!  To borrow a phrase from a friend, we may have been meant to be monogam'ish.

But... that is unacceptable by our society, our values, and the very way we've been conditioned to feel.

So in conclusion, life is hard.  Marriage is hard.  There is no right answer, and I don't see us changing the marriage/divorce statistics in our lifetime.

Well that was depressing.

The end of the road

Do not let your fire go out, spark by

irreplaceable spark in the

hopeless swaps of the not-quite,

the not-yet, and the not-at-all.

Do not let the hero in your soul perish

in lonely frustration for the

life you deserved and have

never been able to reach.

The world you desire can be won.

 It exists.

Go get 'em Traci

Lordy, lordy, look who's forty

With my husband's birthday on the horizon, I decided to start planning the event.  I perused dance clubs in Portland to find a venue.  

I click on a five-star club that, according to Yelp, ranked number two in the area!  Ron Jeremy's Club Sesso.
My first thought:  I wouldn't set foot in a place associated with Ron Jeremy.  But, then again, who was I to judge something I knew nothing about.

Ron Jeremy's Club Sesso is labeled as an adult club.  Well, duh.  Kids can't go to clubs, right?  WRONG!  It was an...um... adult club.  The first revue stated how lovely the place was because they clean and sanitize the beds between people.  You can't even imagine my curiosity and horror when I continued reading and spotted the word orgy bar.  This alleged orgy bar was described as "pretty lame" because when they visited, it was just one couple going at it, with a bunch of young guys watching.  I blushed just reading that.

Oh... and you can't just go there.  You have to buy a membership.  One man that loves date nights with his wife said "money well spent!  Where else can you get a mixed drink, steak dinner, shower, and a good f*** with your wife for that price!?"  Wow... that's romantic!

So I've settled on Lola's, at the Crystal ballroom.  80's night.  I'm planning to wear a "frankie say relax" t shirt and ordering sliders from the happy hour menu at Ringlers.

Not just because I'm scared to death of the other place.  Not just because I'm afraid of the face my friends would make if I invited them there.  No...it's because I don't want to know how many of my friends already have a membership!!

Almost there...

Hang in there Traci!

One Year Later...

One year ago today, a darling, sweet, almost 4 year fell out his window and suffered extreme brain damage.  I'm reposting an excerpt from a long letter she wrote, in hopes that her message will help others protect their children.

For you, Becca.

We did have many other child protection devices. In fact, we'd gone beyond the well-known safety products such as outlet covers. For example, we had mesh over the rails on our deck even though the deck isn't very high. After a thorough research on car safety, we'd opted for Britax car seats and even have our seven-year-old in a 5 point harness with side impact protection. I'd also made a call to the Washington Poison Center to request Mr. Yuk stickers and put them on anything that might be poisonous for kids to drink even though they were all in locked cabinets. Most heartbreaking is that we had the cords for our blinds wrapped up high so he couldn't reach them and accidentally choke himself. In fact, it was those cords that he was fascinated by and reaching for the day he fell from his window. It was nap time and since he wasn't tired, he was just quietly playing in his room. In that one moment of childhood curiosity, he lost so much!



Almost a year later, I am still haunted by visions of blood running out of my son's ear and skull, his eyes fluttering closed and by the uncertainty for his future. My son, my husband and I, and our other two children to some extent, will forever live in the prison created by the consequences of not installing window guards.


Our son was an intelligent, well-behaved little boy. Several days prior to his accident, my husband had explained to him very clearly how dangerous his window could be. He listened and seemed to register every bit of information. He understood it... but just at the level that a 4-year-old can, not the way adults comprehend real dangers. He was curious and in the end, talking wasn't enough. Telling kids to stay away from windows isn't necessarily enough to avoid tragedy. I wish we'd known then what we know now about window guards.


I'm certain there are many educated, involved and loving parents out there who don't have child safety window locks, but would install them if they knew the risk compared with the minimal effort and time to put them on. Talking to your children necessarily isn't enough to avoid tragedy. Fifty children a year fall from windows in Oregon alone and 5,000 nationwide. I strongly encourage you to get child safe window stops or 4-inch window opening limiters if you don't already have them. Here are three window safety products recommended by the Safety Store located inside the Legacy Emanuel hospital:


Guardian Angel window guards. http://www.angelguards.com/.


Kid Co Window Stop. http://www.amazon.com/KidCo-Window-Stop/dp/B003LZU0PG.


KidCo Mesh Window Guard http://www.amazon.com/KidCo-KID-S303-Kidco-Window-Guard/dp/B002H0JDPY


Window guards or child safe window locks can be simple and cheap and they are worth your child's continued well-being. The staff at the Safety Store of Emanuel hospital are passionate and knowledgeable about window safety and more than willing to help. Their number is 503-413-4600.

Things I love #5, aka Ode to the BFF

In seventh grade, I had to take choir.  Everyone had to take choir.  Don't even get me started on the injustice of taking a bunch of hormonally challenged, voice changing tweens and making them sing.  For grading, each student had to sing a solo or duet in front of the class.  Seriously, I can't make this stuff up.  Luckily, I found a friend that was just as bad a singer as me to duet with.  We have been dueting ever since.

Traci has been my best friend for 26 years.  Years full of adventure, boys, children, and heartache.  Through it all, she has been my rock, my soul mate, my confidant, and the best friend a girl could ask for.

My favorite thing about this scenario is knowing at any given time, any given moment, no matter what, there is someone out there that is my biggest fan. And I am her biggest fan.  Sure I have a husband, and he is my fan as well.  While I intend to hang onto him, there is magic in the phrase 'boys will come and go, but a best friend lasts forever.'

So on to the gushy part.  That's right, I haven't even done that yet!  Traci is wickedly smart, naturally beautiful, and hysterically funny.  She has a laugh that my parents have always called contagious, and I really do laugh more when I'm with her.  She turns every experience into an unforgettable adventure.  She is the strongest person I know and can overcome obstacles that amaze me.  She amazes me.

She is graduating from nursing school in December, and I couldn't be happier or more proud of her. 

My BFAAFNMW is truly a jewel.

Presenting the class of 1991

I attended my 20 year reunion this summer.  The best friend flew up because she was a big ol' nerd like me I knew I'd enjoy it more with her.  Facebook posts and twitter tweets always share the passing comment... went to my reunion!  Here's what they aren't telling you...

1.  Your nerves will transport you back to the insecurities of times forgotten.  When the husband dropped us off, I actually knocked on the car window and said "I don't want to go."  This will pass... eventually.

2.  You will feel the desire to be the most successful/ best looking/ happiest person in the room, while every other person there is doing the exact same thing.  Warning:  If you are actually this person, no one will like you.

3.  Online profile pictures do a great justice to the aging process.  In person, these people will look older.  You will look older.  We will all look like the sleep deprived version of our former self.

4.  Old friends will continue to be a warm place to land.  Decades will melt, and you will feel home.

5.  Someone will have died.  Maybe several someones.  Face this and grieve, it's only going to get worse the older we get.

6.  You will experience a large growth in your facebook friends.

7.  You will tell someone you liked them in high school.  In return, someone will tell you they liked you in high school.  Mulligan, anyone??

8.  If you are lucky, someone will say you became hot.  In return, you will say "...what do you mean became??"

Another one bites the dust

I moved to Vancouver in 1980. Other than my college years, and a brief span early in my marriage, I have always been here. In elementary school, my best friend moved to Michigan. That was the first time I had to deal with a friend moving away, but it certainly hasn’t been my last. My best girls have covered the world. Literally.

Today was filled with bittersweet emotions as I learned that one of the best of the best is leaving us. It’s a happy story. Traveling husband will get to spend more time with his beautiful wife and wonderful children. This warms my heart, and saddens it as well. Our tight group will be feeling the loss of one. Even sadder, my boy will be losing his best friend. The other half. Our second son. I know we’ll still see this family.  No distance will change our dear love for them. And of course, there’s always face book.

On New Years Eve, I am so thankful that I remembered to tell this brilliantly inspiring woman that I believe she is all things goods. A wonderful person inside and out. And this she continues to prove on a daily basis.

When you welcome loving people into your lives, wonderful things happen. We are so grateful to include this family in ours, no matter where they are.

the naked facebook-er

December 2009
Ahh, facebook. So ruthless, useless, hurtful and spectacular at the same time. I originally didn’t include my maiden name, so my former ghosts couldn’t catch up. After finally being outed by someone that still recognized me, I gave up and included the Williams. This is the name I was burdened with before I knew who I was, was responsible for all my actions, and found essential happiness in my life. I’m typing this knowing I can go back and edit. And rewrite. And edit. And finally publish. When I was a Williams, everyone saw this. These people saw my rough drafts, and could judge me by them. They could give opinions and criticism on every potential idea I had. It was hard, and sometimes painful. Then I realized-- I saw their rough drafts, too. Remember people-- this is like those horrible middle school forced PE showers we had to take. Sure, I’m naked, but so is everybody else.

So now that we’ve all gotten dressed, I think we can put this behind us. I’ve delighted in seeing all the amazing adventures life has given my long lost friends. And enemies. I’ve enjoyed finding out that we’ve all been in love, had broken hearts. I’ve relished in finally feeling that if I sat at the popular table, I would not be disgraced. So here’s to adulthood. May we all enjoy the ride.