Meeting AJ In Real Life

Have you ever had the pleasure of meeting, in person, someone you've me online?  I had that chance for the first time last week.

AJ, whom I met last year, and I met up for coffee last week and we couldn't stop talking.

Her hair is a little less curly, mine is a lot more crazy gold/red, but we recognized each other right away.

Some people make distinctions about "real" friends and "online" friends, but I've stopped doing that.  I've realized that as our society has changed and online is an increasing part of our daily lives, then the "status" of those we meet and hang out with online needs to change also.

Did you ever have a pen pal when you were growing up?  I did.  My Swedish friends and I wrote hundreds of letters that traveled across the ocean so that we could keep our friendship up to date until the next time I could visit Sweden.

I feel like the friends I've made online are like pen pals.  We've shared some deep stuff in the emails and text messages and phone calls we've exchanged. Also, when you're "hanging out" online ALL you're doing is talking.  You're not distracted by the movie you went to see, or by the shopping you're doing.  

You're just getting to know each other, and I think you do so much more quickly than someone you meet in person.  It takes a lot of get-togethers to reach the level of sharing that comes more quickly in an online friendship.

AJ and I got together in a local coffee shop.  Of course we talked "shop" since we're both co-hosts.  (You've heard of this alphabet thing we're doing, right?  If you're new to this, click on the tab above that says A-Z Challenge and go sign-up.  Now.  I'll wait.) That was a small part of it, though.  We talked like real friends talked.

We shared our lives, our struggles, our hopes and dreams and frustrations and were both amazed to see how long we'd been talking when "nature called." That's friendship to me.  Real people.  Real life.

Have you ever met someone you first met online?  Do you think there are "real" friends and "online" friends? Explain.  I'd like to hear your opinion.

~Tina, who is trying to play nice with blogger and composing directly in the window instead of cutting and pasting for OpenOffice, but still gets wonky formatting as a gift...

Summer's End

Just a little longer?

Summer's end

both welcome

and too soon

Carefree days, used up

become days, of

schedule keeping,

routines

The house-o-boys

will be quiet

once more

but I'll miss

the chaos

I do know it's time, since

Columbine have graciously

given way

to marigolds, already dressed

for autumn

while the sunflowers, so tall

majestic

are losing their seeds

to birds, preparing

I'm not prepared

for this transition

Not yet

Time tick-tocks

Flying by, while I,

paralyzed with

inevitable changes,

grieve

The end of childhood,

a treasured friend,

off into the world

daily friendship,

exchanged, for

electronic communication

Stop the world

Just for a little bit

Give them, give me

Just a little longer

I'm not ready, for

time's relentlessly rapid

progression

lay the hour glass,

on its side

stop the hours

keep them young

Just a little longer

Day at the Museum

What do you get when you combine three moms, a grandma, three cousins ages 2,4 and 8, and two teenagers, ages 13 and 16? A hell of a good time. We spent Friday at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science - that's why there was no post yesterday.

The Transporter transported us and that was a treat because I hate rush hour traffic, and Denver's is famous. Ironically, the museum is ½ mile from the hospital where I've been tortured, er, tested since April. I know the way very well. He did great, even though the construction was challenging.

We love this museum. It has great, classic exhibits, like the gems and minerals, which is my favorite. With a group the size of ours, you tend to move like an amoeba, as in S L O W L Y. We soon gave up on sticking together, though. My boys would go ahead, the 8 year-old is one of those who has to push every button and interact with every kids' interaction station, so she and her 6 year-old cousin tended to lag behind. I stayed with my friend, my high school friend who lives in Canada and had called me the night before to say that she was unexpectedly in town and did I want to get together. Such a nice surprise! (Her mom, who came with us, lives here in Denver which is convenient for me since I get to see my friend more because of it.)

Also along was my friend's sister visiting from England. Neither she nor her husband is English...but I can't tell you why he's assigned there. The whole “then I have to kill you” thing. Her kids were the youngest, but so well behaved and genuinely interested in all that was around them.

The body exhibit was a big hit. You get a little credit card like “pass” to put in the different stations, and they measure you're height, your stride length, test you on the treadmill, test your grip strength, do a computer “aging” simulation, and let you dress up like a scientist and do actual chemistry experiments. Just for the record, The Transporter is now 5'11”, and OYT 5'7.5”, leaving me, at 5'3”, as the shortest...You get a print-out of results at the end.

Catching up with old friends is great, especially when you have the kind of friendship where you just pick up where you left off, which was about four years ago. So much has happened in each of our lives since then, and we just babbled away about it, picking up the threads of the conversation in between the, “Have you seen the size of that moose?” and “Try these deer ears, you can really hear a LOT better!” The kids snaked around us as we saw amazing, life size dioramas of the worlds' animals, of ancient cultures. We landed the space shuttle, built models of airplanes, saw satellite imagery, and the kids played astronaut, complete with foam space suits and a pretend control module.

We are still the same girls who were on the gymnastics team together, who knocked over the oil display at the gas station when I first had my license, who played in band together, shared a math class, and have kept in touch all these years. We may look a little older, move a little slower, and have kids of our own, but our hearts are still the same, and we'll always be forever friends.

Now I need to go watch “Night at the Museum”...

Rites of Passage

SMK's oldest, SoccerBoy, is graduating this weekend and I'm just as emotional as if he were my own son. This is the boy who has spent the last twelve years running in and out my house. Spending nights and days on end, eating me out of said house and home, always saying please and thank you, and never drinking my last green tea. He has been The Transporter's constant companion, from the sandbox with sippy cups, to gaming buddy, nerf-war team-mate, Pokemon trader, run-to-7-11 for snacks and stay up all night with friend. He's always been around. He's leaving.

Summer job beckons, and he'll be out of town during the week. Then he's off to school over two hours away, on a much deserved soccer scholarship. He'll be GONE. I can't imagine our house without him. We gave up on knocking years ago, so I'll be doing something, door opens, no one seeks me out, and next thing I know, there's a deep-voiced, almost so tall he has to duck into rooms, friendly boy hanging out. Note to self: double what you're making for dinner.

We have certain rules about friends being over when we're gone. He's always the exception. “Well no friends except SoccerBoy, of course.” He IS exceptional. It's not often these days that you're blessed with your son's best friend being a (now) man of integrity and tremendous work ethic, who encourages those with slightly less ambition to DO stuff. “C'mon, let's clean up your room. Your mom will be happy and I can fit a chair in here and actually sit down.” “Dude! Do your laundry! I can't find the headphones!”

SoccerBoy, I wish you all the best as you begin the next chapter in you life. My door is always unlocked for you, I'll probably have some left-over pizza, and your favorite burrito filling. Thanks for the years of joy and fun you've brought to our house. Aim high, travel safe, and let yourself in when you're home visiting.

~Tina

P.S If you don't know who SMK is, check out the nicknames tab above.

J ~Jo vs. Jamie

These are the continuing adventures of a Swedish immigrant during her first year as an American. She boldly went where she'd never gone before...please come along on Adventures in America.

I need a break (hahahaha) from my body cast so let's talk about friends. I had a dilemma that year because I had two friends who didn't like each other, but each of them liked me. Both would invite me over to play.

Jo (not her real name) was a “blessing” baby with much older siblings, one of them married. She was spoiled rotten and had every toy imaginable. She was also rather bossy. Yes, I met a lot of bossy girls that year...probably because I kept my own bossiness totally hidden as I adjusted to all the other changes...didn't really have the balls to boss anyone around when I was trying so desperately to fit in. She'd let me play with her FABULOUS toys, but would stop me on a whim and make me play with some other toy. Yeah.

Jamie (not her name either) was the oldest and had more siblings than I remember. She lived in a very old house, with very few toys, but was a sweetheart, and we'd play imaginary games.

Whose invitation would I accept? What would I say to the other girl? It was a serious dilemma for a nine-year old. I played with them both, and of course they each came to my house to play. However, it was a several times a week sorta deal to work out and it was exhausting. Now if I could just have made a trio of us, then all my problems would be solved. (I would later learn, with another set of friends, that this solves nothing, in fact, it only creates more drama...)

I was totally shocked that I found pictures of both of them in Mom's photo album.  

From left to right: Swissie, DataBoy, Me, Jo

This one really has no left to rights...so...um...I'm in green, Jamie is hugging me, DataBoy is in brown and Swissie is sticking her head out...

Have you had friend dilemmas?  How did YOU solve them?

Meet SMK: Sister Mary Katherine

It's high time you met SMK, aka Sister Mary Katherine. Go back one post if you want the background info. This woman is amazing, and I have a ton of stories to tell, but I'll start with some basics that will give you a good picture.

SMK knows how to throw a party. She does it ALL the time, despite having a house full of day care kiddos all day. She'll host our wine club

at the end of a long day, knowing she has to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to receive those kids early. She's a great cook, and will always whip up something really special for those occasions, even when those of us who have more time bring take-out or stuff to throw in the oven. She takes the time to make us feel special. Crusted ahi tuna, anyone?

She also throws a damn good direct-sales party. You know, Pampered Chef, Longaberger, Tastefully Simple, Party Lite, Lia Sophia jewelry...you name it, she'll host it. What makes her parties like this a don't miss (because c'mon, we'd usually rather miss them...and this is coming from Tina who sold Longaberger nine years and Mary Kay three...) is the unique gift she gives each of us as the party starts.

When it's time for introductions and the customary consultants, “And please tell us how you know SMK when you introduce yourself,” she'll do it HER way. We have that in common. Do it OUR way. After all, it's the right way, isn't it?

She climbs up on her big hearth and will go around the room, introducing each guest and saying something she loves about that person. (By the way, she loves me because there's ALWAYS wine at my house. Usually in a box, but nonetheless she can always find a glass or two. Damn, I still feel bad about when I was boxless one night...hate to disappoint...) Starting the party this way produces a lot of laughter and ice-breaking and is the perfect way to make your guests feel special.

The best party of the year though is The Seafood Boil. She comes from a big family, and at the end of the summer they all invite their friends to this combined family amazing feast. Tables are covered in paper, tents are set up, big pots of seafood and all the sides are thrown onto the table and people step up and dive in. What could be better? The night approaches slowly, the little kids play on the playground, the big kids play soccer, or they play with the little kids (a highlight if you're a little kid and it's been fun watching OYT (see previous post for who that is) graduate from grateful little kid to big kid whom the littles adore.)

This year I couldn't go. Broke my heart. Too sick. She said she'd save me some. She didn't just do that though. She invited me to her house full-o-kids during their nap-time and set it all out JUST like if I'd been at the party. “The seafood boil is not a solitary event. You're coming HERE.” So I feasted, and tried not to cry in gratitude and joy as I enjoyed my mussels, shrimp, clams, crab, crawfish, corn on the cob, fingerling potatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, crusty french bread, plenty of butter for dipping, and let's not leave out the octopus “uglies” (which are really tasty and there's usually plenty because of seafood wimps) and wine, which she also set out for me.

Wouldn't you want your own SMK? I'm glad I have mine. Thanks for the feast, and all the love you show with all your efforts for your friends.

SkinnyBoy: You Is Kind, You is smart. You is important.

Feeling blue. SkinnyBoy has moved to Florida. As in our chances of crossing paths again are as slim as he is.

He used to be our neighbor, lived four houses away. He spent as much time at our house as he was allowed, which was pretty much 24/7 in the summers, and during the school year, he'd show up for our carpool almost an hour early to “hang out, I was ready for school.” I fed him breakfast. Made sure he had lunch money or packed him a lunch. His Dad had lost his job even before the Great Recession hit. I know things were tough at his house for a multitude of reasons, so we did what we could to help, though direct help was completely refused. Out of respect for him, let's just leave all that there.

After I dropped him at his house on school days, with his over-stuffed back-pack and french horn, he'd shut the door with a, “See you in a minute!” and would be back at our house almost before I could turn the car around and hit our driveway. He stayed for dinner a lot. Eventually of course he had to go home to do his homework, but so did my boys. Worked out great. Just for reference, my boys are 2 ½ years apart, he's right between them age-wise. He and I share a birthday. With Obama. And Best :-)

I love this boy. A boy of integrity, great work ethic, always cleaned up his dishes and offered to do chores. We pay for chores around here, don't believe in “allowance”. There are of course some “because you live here” chores which don't pay (dishes, laundry, trash, recycling, vacuuming, sweeping) but others do. He did a lot of those. Loving video games as much as my boys, he did those to make any spending “frivolously” possible, I'm sure.

Two years ago they lost their house and moved across town to a rental duplex. That didn't stop our boys who have bikes, he'd just ride over here and knock, just as if he'd run down the hill. Friendship continued almost interrupted.

A month ago he began preparing us all. “My Dad is maybe getting a job in Florida.” Wow. Job great. Florida not so much. Dad got job. He came over to say goodbye while I was in Texas. I didn't get to give that skinny little body one more hug. I didn't get to tell him, one more time, my version of this quote from The Help as Aibileen did Mae Mobley, “You is kind, you is smart. You is important.”

I asked him once why he liked being over here so much. “You're always happy to see me, I know you love me, and it feels really nice to be here.” Hold on to that thought dear boy as your life is about to change. May you find another family that makes you feel that way. Good bye, SkinnyBoy. Good bye.