Not bad for a fat girl


Driving School

Today my son goes to driving school.driver-clipart-Driving-School-clip-art

Oh sure, he’s had his permit for a while now, after all, he’s nearly 18 years old. Except that his permit has expired. This is news to me. As in, I found out about 15 minutes ago. Apparently you’re supposed to actually learn to drive and get your license once you obtain the permit. Oh.

Last year, over Christmas break, he got his permit.

This year, over Christmas break, it expired.

Nobody realized it. It just sat in his wallet and when he announced that he was really ready to go for it we all assumed that everything was in order, and I handed him the keys. He had driven a few times before, around the block and in the neighborhood, but now he wanted to really practice. It was time.

We drove around a bit, and I made some inquiries into various driving schools. I picked one, and signed him up. It’s not cheap, but as far as I’m concerned it’s a lifetime investment in his safety, and I’m not about to skimp on that.

Today he is scheduled for a full day of classroom instruction, no actual driving. We’re to arrive a bit early to finish filling in paperwork and pay. We’re to bring along his permit. Which expired.

Darn it!

The good news is that Spring Break is coming up, so we get go get a new one then, but his road practice will have to wait.

Sometimes we think we’re prepared, but we just aren’t quite ready. That’s how I feel about a lot of things lately. I’m not quite ready to see him go driving off, and I’m not quite ready for him to graduate high school. I’m not quite ready for him to move away to college, and I’m not quite ready for him to be a man. Just like the driving, though, it’s time, so I might as well get used to it.

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Being With Myself

Well hello there. It’s been a while, and I have so much to say. So much that I find myself tongue-tied. Where to even begin?

I’m sure you all want to hear about my battle with strep throat, and how it sucker punched me. I’m equally sure you want to know that the medication I took for it didn’t exactly agree with me on all levels. I’ll leave it there for now, and let your active imagination fill in the blanks. Or better yet, don’t.

Then there was the epic trip to The Big Easy. Yes, it deserves all of those capital letters. New Orleans is like no other place on earth, and what better way to experience it than with seven like-minded female friends in a rented house near the French Quarter. I walked, I laughed, I danced, I drank, I ate, I slept, I sang, I played. I loved that trip, and I cherish the memories we made together. Yes, even the memory of paddling in circles in our defective kayak, but that’s another tale for another time.

Of course there has been the ongoing struggle with college applications and scholarships. There are so many t’s to cross and i’s to dot that it can make you crazy. The good news is that it forced me to do my taxes early, so I don’t have that hanging over my head. The bad news is that it never seems to end. Son is still waiting to hear back from three schools, and the waiting is hard on him. Ok, I confess, I don’t like it much either.

I guess what I’m trying to share with you, in a not so organized manner, is that life has been pulling at me lately, and I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed by all of its demands, both positive and negative. I’m in need of a brain break, one that doesn’t involve jazz music, or packing suitcases, or riding in a car with an inexperienced teen driver (did I mention that part? no?). One that doesn’t shoehorn in quick visits with out-of-town relatives and 30 parent-teacher conferences and trying to find time to really enjoy spending time with my mother. I know it sounds selfish to come back from a trip and ask for a break, but I need it. One where there aren’t piles of ungraded papers to greet me upon my return.

In the immortal words of Fergie, “I need to be with myself and center, clarity, peace, serenity…”



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Why Does a Hockey Player Want to Follow Me?

I get notifications form WordPress and Twitter when I get new followers. This isn’t shocking. People click on follow buttons all the time, and while it’s nice to see that new people are discovering what I’m up to, it isn’t exactly groundbreaking news when it happens.

Every once in a while I spend a little time checking out those people, and I often follow them back. Sometimes I’ve already followed them, and they’re following me back. Cool.

Now I’m not someone who lives and dies by the numbers. Yes, I love knowing that my little thoughts are floating around in cyberspace and once in a while some of you lovelies read them, and maybe even respond to them. That really does delight me. But I’m not out to win the busiest blog award (is there such a thing?) or the Twitter tweeter with with the most twaffic (I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it). I’m not in the big leagues in either category, and I’m okay with that.

On Twitter, though, a lot of the people I follow ARE in the big leagues, at least in terms of their chosen professions. I follow big names in education, writing, politics, entertainment, art, and more. I like to see what makes these folks tick, and reading their tweets gives me some insight. The main take away? They tend to work really hard, and they put their pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us.

The other day, as I was looking through the new followers (seriously, it sounds like I’m leading a cult or something… I assure you I am not) I came across a fellow who’s a player in the NHL. Yes, folks, a real live professional hockey player. How cool is that?! I hadn’t followed him, and I’m not a huge hockey fan. I know nothing about his team. I don’t even keep up with the team from my childhood (although I did have hockey pictures on my wall the year they went for the Stanley Cup). I don’t DISLIKE hockey, it’s just not a part of my life. So how did this guy find me?

I don’t know, but I have to assume it was either my wit or my ravishing beauty that hooked him. Still, how he stumbled across something I’ve done is beyond me. I’m amazed at the way the internet works, and this is further proof that some things in the universe will never be explained. In the meantime, go Hurricanes!