Saturday, August 07, 2010

The Story of the Reunion, 2010

Hello. I am back, and fully dedicated to my incarceration in this apartment. The last part of any good vacation is ME in this APARTMENT, living the DREAM. I am watching 2012 right now, which is some fine ass trash to imbibe in over a long, long weekend. The deets:


I knew it was going to be a beautiful trip when, in the LaGuardia ladies room, a mother and daughter entered the stall next to me and the daughter, being somewhere around 6 years old, proclaimed: "Mom, this is GREAT!" When the mom indicated "what" the daughter made clear that she meant this trip, this airport, and hey, even this bathroom. It was uber cute, to be sure, but more importantly, I knew it was a SIGN.


First, my phone. I don't know what it's called. I don't care. It allows me access to Internet, email, and facebook. How could I complain. I did try to stay off of it while I was there, but the newness did intoxicate.

Second, my new sheets...I LOVE TARGET!!!!! Because it is full of wonder and sheets. They are dark plum and luxuriant. I slept on them last night and all I can say is zzzzzSNORTzzzzzdrool.

Third, lots of Gates barbecue sauce. I spoke with my shiny, Yasmin, a few months ago about what type of BBQ is best: She, being Canadian, preferred the "rub" since she's been brainwashed by her Texans, but I stay dedicated to the juicy succulence of BBQ sauce...meats both bbq'd in sauce and then slathered with it. Have you HAD Gates, my friends? It is the hottest, juiciest, most delicious sauce around. I've been marinating my mouth in it since I got back and can I just say: Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Fourth, my tea tree shampoo and conditioner. I stormed JC Penney's hair salon to use the bathroom (using the universal WHERE IS IT in a heated, beady-eyed delivery to get my way) then reemerged to find they had the Paul Mitchell stuff I love so much. So I scored some sweet hair products. This isn't to say they can't be bought here, but as I've explained to those who simply do NOT understand: Malls. Are. Awesome. If you don't live in NYC without a CAR, you don't seem to understand what it takes to purchase multiple things in one day. I can buy a phone, new pants, a DVD, get my nails done, get an eye exam, and get new glasses in one day, in one location. If you have ever dragged your sorry ass all over Manhattan and Brooklyn to achieve these things--all with the added blessing of the shittiest customer service you've ever received--you will understand the appeal of the Midwestern mall.


There's no way to express the joy that I experienced spending quality time with my prom dates and their respective hot men. I felt sandwiched between hard muscles and sweet, sweet man musk. Was it awesome? Do you have to ask, really? It was lovely getting predrinks and postdrinks with these fellas, mostly because after many years we've bonded like family. I would Rambo a fleet of Aliens for these boys and I'm sure they'd do the same for me.

It's weird to remember what a life bomb their lives would have been "perceived" to be back when we were 28, 30 or even 33. But these boys are fearless now. They came with their men, they brokered no compromises, and the class of 1990 accepted them, at least to my perception, with little or no drama. I'd be comforted to know that the times have made this situation a reality. I know what they went through in high school; it would be a sweet pleasure to know that their "alternative" lives are nothing more than a bland interest to our classmates. We all have loved ones, and there is nothing exciting about that, other than who they are and how they act when they are introduced to our alumni.

Ahem, Bill. Come on, now. You know you loved that reunion shit!

I spoke to many, made some memory connections, and felt that I got my money's worth. Of course I enjoyed my one on one time with my boys the most...listening to Bryan carefully explain the address to the taxi (denied!), feeling up Mark on the sly (hot guns!), getting some confirmation of love from my Tony (who hates me), and getting a wet willy from Bill, who reminded me graphically of why wet willies are so damned horrific.


I GOT MY MR. T DRAWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was earned through some level of drama and angst. I understand that much churning and burning must go into every work of art, but even I have to call BS on the ONE YEAR it took to get this motherfucker. Sage, it is great. I love it so much! I am getting it framed.

In case you've never encountered one, this is a genuine Hambone in her natural habitat (i.e. with a captive audience):

Can I just tell you how much looking at these pictures again made me laugh? Which I think is the purpose of the Hambone. Always entertaining.

People in the Know know that the family situation is complicated right now at best. I managed to spend time with two warring factions, not without total uncomfortable self awareness. It was unavoidable, excruciating, and sad. But I got to see a good cross section of beebs, none of which ever asked to be in the middle of this horror. I think they've stood up to this the best that any kids their age could ever be asked to do. I'm only sad I didn't get to see Gabby, the little butterbean I held in my arms when she was only just born, still premie enough to still need to live in a protective chamber. Maybe she'll know one day how galvanizing that experience was for me and how it made me understand how fragile, perfect, and dear a baby is. Yes, for me, it takes a first hand experience to get the idea. But I did! And I'll never forget her translucent skin, little chirps and beeps, and the one miraculous moment when she opened her eyes and looked right into mine, all innocence and sweetness in one suspended moment. You can only dare to hope for something like it.


Here is the story of Alex, the surprising miracle of the trip: My best friend from childhood is only found consistently through her work. So, this is where I go to track her down. I went there a few days before I had to leave, but was told that she would not be on until the next week. So, one day before I left, I tried again, this time with Mom in tow. We approached the counter and asked for Lisa. We were told she was on break. We asked when she would be back. We were told it was uncertain, since she was pumping. I responded, NO, Lisa XXXX, to emphasize that they of course had the wrong person.

Nope. When my mother and I scooped our jaws off the floor we turned to see our Lisa returning. I basically tackled her, apologizing for being a bad friend and yelling my congratulations. It was a pile on of gooey love and tears. She showed us pictures from her phone and we made a date for the next day.

When I held Alex, I felt so happy. I'm usually totally uncomfortable with kids. I don't know what they want, what they are thinking, or how to make them happy. With him, I just had to get used to him rooting around, smacking his head into my shoulder, and basically being the Wiggle Worm to end all wiggle worms. Once he settled down, it was a series of grunts and muffled bleeps, coupled with shifts and squirms easily managed and quickly adored. OH MY GOD. This kid wiggled and squirmed right into my black coal of a heart. What a sugar beet! I love him completely!

Finally, to play us out (somewhere Bill O'Reilly is screaming fuck it! I hate this fucking thing!) I give you John Cougar Mellencamp, who I managed to experience WAY too many times via the radio during my trip (what the hell, Kansas?). Enjoy.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

No one has ever captured Toodles in a photomontage better than this. WUV! Twue wuv!

10:52 PM  
Blogger Shiny said...

I've shown several people this photo montage and Rori totally has a fan club now. Total squeee.

8:13 PM  

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