mydarlingcurse.com

Dear Alex Britt,

I’m so so sorry. I was a complete idiot in high school. Now, looking back at these pictures and reading what you wrote on the back of them…all I can do is type these words and hope that someday you google yourself and it leads you here.

I couldn’t see how extremely cool you were, and are probably still. I was waiting for someone else to ask me to prom senior year and he never did. So when you asked me in Mr. Hardy’s art class in front of everyone I had to say yes. And instead of taking it in stride, I let my preconceived notions of what senior prom is SUPPOSED to be get in the way of what was true, genuine affection on your part.

The only think I can say is, I had no idea how much you really liked me. I was too much a girl of the 80’s to even consider opening my heart to a way cooler throw-back Mod like yourself. And even when Jen tried to beat it into my head how poorly I was treating you, I just didn’t listen.

Hopefully, you found true love in Oregon. A girl who appreciates all you have to give and isn’t hung up on your shitty, bass playing best friend. You’re right, the signals I was receiving were diverted and deceiving. Too bad I didn’t get the message.

Hope you are well.
Love,
Jodie

it’s strange how simply dropping off a garment at the dry cleaners can set off 100 memories. and it’s weird how several things came into my life after it, all connected. after all this happened, i found a photo album with tons of picture of the parties involved. one picture has my charming Brit wearing said garment.

A Quick History
Junior year in high school, my BFF (Psycho Jen) and I went on a school trip to England. I had been there the previous year with my parents and grandparents. It was a jazz band, dance thing and we traveled around performing and staying with host families, etc. The first week there we mainly stayed at and around Dulwich College, outside of London. There we met several handsome, charming, british blokes. We both stayed with a young man named Silas, There was the Holden Caufield-esque Marcus (who kissed me a lot and wore pants tighter than my own) And there was Elliot. Jen did a much better job staying in touch with Elliot and Silas long-term. I don’t have a valid reason for letting either one of them fall by the wayside. Let’s just say life got in the way.

Most Personal
I fell in love with Elliot, naturally. I have a feeling PJ did too. Elliot set the standard for me as far as men are concerned; tall, dark, handsome, smart, funny. The only real difference between hubbin and Elliott is that Elliot is British. Elliot pointed this out to me at PJ’s wedding - which he flew across the pond for. Then with a wink and a smile he added that hubbin was just a poor substitute for him.

Kiss and Tell
My freshman year in college, or maybe it was my sophomore year… PJ and Elliot came down to Iowa to see me. Like all truly great college adventures, it’s a haze of booze and giggles. I remember Elliot psyching everyone at a party out by filling an empty Vodka bottle with water and then drinking more than half of it down. He literally dragged me out of that party and i cut myself on the door frame. I still have a scar on my collarbone. We ended up going back to my dorm room and making out for what seemed like hours. PJ was not pleased.

The Stripey
Somewhere along the way, Elliot gave me his College Stripey. They give them out for…how did he put it? “Outstanding performance / contributions to College life”. It’s basically a black blazer with blue stripes and the college crest on the pocket. Apparently, and this might just be in my own mind, it’s a big deal and not something you should just give away to some American Girl. Lucky for me, Elliot did give his away, to me, and again I don’t think PJ was pleased.

Flash Forward
Two weeks ago at breakfast PJ says something along the lines of, “I hate to ask, but…” She said that she had asked me to send Elliot the stripey back once before. I don’t remember that. “Well, his boys are at the college now and he’s going to start teaching there and he really needs it back.” Okay.

i found the stripey in the cedar closet downstairs and took it to the dry cleaners. i hate sending it back. not that i’m a cold hearted bitch who won’t honor a request. but i have/had genuine feelings for the person that gave it to me, and by sending it back, i feel like i’ll have no proof at all of how cool i was. not that it matters. it’s really silly to hold on to stuff like that, they are just things after all.

i guess, by sending it back, i’m admitting to middle age. that boisterous girl is long gone and i’m just not ready to accept that. so it appears that i am in dire need of a silly adventure. something reckless and youthful and slightly dangerous. although, i’d have to find a babysitter first.

we were in a really big house and some of my extended family was there…The Fabulous Mr. O (TFMO) was wearing light khaki pants, and white shirt and a light colored jacket (hummana hummana hummana). for whatever reason, Keith was running the show, we were all very concerned with when he was leaving, when he’d be back and what it all meant. i remember the sense that his job was in danger because some flashy young buck with earphones showed up and everyone went into hyper-protective mode about Keith.

there wasn’t a lot of talking.

i remember being around a table, and Keith wasn’t sitting down, he was standing behind my aunt iowa. and he gave me a look that makes me gooey inside still. the kind of look that says, even though you’ll never be mine, you’ll always be mine. and i held his stare for as long as i could, but the devil with the earphones was distracting me.

then i remember sitting on TFMO’s lap at one point and he was talking very softly, yet very sternly to me. telling me that if i wanted to be something else that i could. that america would love me for who i am, i just needed to be myself. then he pulled out video camera and started filming me talking. then he stopped and told me to do it for real, and i did.

TFMO has yet to make the DML, and i think that as soon as i stop watching five hours of MSNBC coverage in a row, right before bed, i’ll stop having dreams about him. but i don’t want that to happen. he’s like a sexy father-figure, always pushing me beyond what i think i can do. and i so need that right now.

after boo’s back to school picnic, i’m feeling very dowdy and invisible. i’m positive that i am meant to do more than this, but i’m not sure what that is yet. thankfully, i just saw a bit on TCM about Jimmy Stewart. there is a scene in “Harvey” that they showed that was like a slap in the face to me:

“Years ago my mother used to say to me, she’d say, “In this world, Elwood, you must be” - she always called me Elwood - “In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.” Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.”

i shall work on being more pleasant, you may quote me.

you know who sucks today? MSNBC. know why? because they are keeping me and keith olbermann apart. fuckers!

sure, they said they are keeping the fabulous Mr. O in new york because of the hurricane coverage. but i think they just don’t approve of our one sided media induced love. or maybe it’s because he leans so far left that they were afraid of some snarky comment he’d make at the RNC. either way, his absence breaks my heart.

JCSG and i had grand plans of heading down to their broadcast site and holding up signs saying “Mathhews and Olbermann 08″ and “Circle Me Keith”. JCSG didn’t get the “circle me” reference, but she’s not a baseball fan like Mr. O and me. millions of fellow minnesotans would have loved it though.

also, in the “i’ve clearly been watching too much TV” category, i had a dream about Mr. O last night. he had this unnaturally large apartment in chaska and the only thing that happened in the dream was that he handed me a catalog for the Loft and told me that maybe i should take a class in political commentary. nice to know that he thinks i need a life too.

yesterday, convinced that our tin foil covered windows were what was causing hubbin and i to frequently implode, i tore the foil off with flourish and instantly felt better. the buns got a little scared at my enthusiasm, making a cute little face close to crying, but you could tell he wasn’t sure. and when i smiled down at him and said it was okay, he totally believed me.

the last week we’ve been working on getting the kids’ room in order, yes they are sharing a room. boo’s princess bed is set up now, and we are working on transitioning the buns to the crib. i hate to admit it, but he sleeps so good in the car seat, it’s hard to give up. he got TEN HOURS of sleep in the car seat last night. if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

hubbin thought that boo would have a hard time falling asleep in our room if the foil was off - not true! she was out by 9PM, which is early for her. and now it’s coming up on 7AM and she and hubbin are still asleep.

i didn’t realize it until after hubbin came up that i had passed out with boo, usually i stay up and read, but guess not.

**dream post ahead**

and i had a dream about my Mom. i’m having some issues with my Dad (big, major, Oprah issues) and i so desperately want to talk to her about it. and last night she showed up, but it was a “good day” for her up to a point and i didn’t want to spoil anything. the weird thing is, is that she was wearing red eye shadow, which she’d never do in real life - but in the dream world, she pulled it off. then the pain started to get the better of her and she wanted one of her pills, she handed me a pill case and when i opened it to the right day and dumped the pills out there were so many of them that i had no idea which one was the one she wanted. and i didn’t get to tell her about my dad. so i woke up happy to have seen her, but glum that she’s gone.

then, for the first time, i had a dream about my family in my house. i’ve never had dreams about this house before, and we’ve lived here like ten years. but in the dream, i was in my kitchen and had made a quesadilla. hubbin came along and totally snatched it. and when i said, hey, i just made that! he grumbled something about my nutrition and threw it in dishwater. i got made and left and couldn’t find boo, i was walking up the street calling for her, and then she came running to me (in that way kinds do on TV). there was such a feeling of elation at that moment, such joy and peace that i started to cry. i swept her up in my arms and woke up.

weird.

i can’t tell you how shocked and sad i am at the death of Bernie Mac.

Bernie Mac’s stand-up was amazing, he had enough angry black man to make him edgy and enough everyman to make him relatable to everyone. if you have not seen The Original Kings of Comedy, add it to your Netflix queue now!

and for your enjoyment, my favorite Bernie Mac bit….

last night psycho jen (i know, i know, she needs a new nickname) and i went out on the town. well, if you call seeing the alaskan poet in his Fringe show “out on the town”. it was a fantastic time, a glorious evening, and i got to get really drunk. that’s what we call Win/Win/Win.

we started off at Trocadero’s and the service was divine! why do i say that? because even though it was 2 for 1 and half price off glasses of wine, cutie-pie barkeep Ryan only charged us for about half our drinks. then the ADORABLE bar-back, whom i instantly dubbed “Sweet Lime” made my night by being cute and talking to me. the place was dead, so i think they were glad to have us.

the alaskan poet’s show was a hoot. if you’ve never Fringed, DO IT! do it now, and go see his show. it’s the kind of raw, grass roots performance that makes the Fringe all worth while. jen and i were thoroughly soaked with vodka collins and Riesling, so we were in the mood to laugh. the alaskan poet delivered like dominos.

after the show, we schlepped back over to Trocs, where Ryan and Sweet Lime were glad to see us. it was there that the AP told us he’d be dumped. awww. some girls just don’t know when they got it good. and i want to give her paper cuts for hurting my friend. hopefully, the glass of jameson i got for him helped ease the pain.

and i was home by 10. not bad, not bad a’tall.

if i haven’t written too much about the buns lately it’s that i’m really trying hard not to have a “mom blog”. yes, yes, it’s who i am, but there is more to me that just being a Mom, although it is top on the list.

and let me just say that the buns is a card. he cracks me up and himself up and that’s something i’d never never be able to teach him, either you got it or you don’t. my only regret is that i can’t tend to him 24/7 the way i did with boo. looking back to when she was his age, i could have toned it down, but now it’s not enough and i don’t know how to fix that.

he’s a lover though, he’ll always snuggle in for a chat and i love that. he’s started to roll over too. and here, my bored little darlings, is where i turn into my Dad.

hubbin’s family is of the type that will use whatever they can to give themselves an advantage. my family is more of the “use your own grit” type. so the first time that buns rolled over, he was under his little dangle toy gym thing and used his foot on one of the supports to give himself leverage. “nuh-uh” says i, and pulled him out from under the toys to see if he could do it on his own, thinking something like, oh so you can do a LADY push-up, now let’s see you do twenty standard, bare-knuckled, in the rain.

thankfully, the buns is quite tolerant of his dear old mum, and like the trained chimp that he’ll soon become, he proceeded to roll over on his own, twice. semper fi little man!

three months ago at six in the evening i was laying in a hospital bed making moon eyes over my new little boy. hard to believe. he’s is getting so big that my knees hurt when i stand up holding him, he’s gotta be damn near 15 pounds. and as much as i was crossing my fingers for a chubby baby he’s long like his big sister. and while he’s not the buddha he’s not all sinew like his sis. he has some chubb, but not enough to make him chubby.

he coos and laughs now and recognizes me and kicks his legs something fierce. he still eats like a shark, but thankfully he takes bottle and/or breast with little complaint.

he sleeps through the night and rarely cries.

and he’s cute, so cute!

i’m lucky.
we’re lucky.

you’re lucky too - don’t forget that. i’m sending some your way.