eight things

eight things I did this weekend:

1. hung out with my old high school chum beth (and kidlets)-- we've not spent more than 24 hours together since something like 1993 (I'm not including the time we saw each other at the ten year high school reunion in '99 because seriously, all those pesky, chirpy classmates kept getting in the way of the catching up). to be completely honest, I worried that the differences and years between us might make for long, painfully awkward pauses in conversation. I was wrong-- it was as close to old times as possible. well, except for the four kids running around the joint. between tending to the cries and needs of babies and the tantrums of toddlers, we (miraculously) managed to fit in a whole world of words, non-stop talking until the breakabreaka dawn. had it been possible to prop my eyes open with toothpicks at 3 in the morning, yes-- I do believe I would have resorted to such drastic measures. if it meant more in the way of the late night talking, then yes.

2. visited three places that I haven't been to in ages: the varsity, the world of coca-cola and little five points (these are atlanta institutions that all visitors must be taken to, though locals rarely visit). I had forgotten just how good the onion rings and orange frosties are at the varsity and how much fun the red paper hats are to wear. at the obnoxiously overpriced coca-cola museum (just two dollars the last time I visited), we rushed past endless displays of vintage advertising so we could get to the best part-- the tasting room. yes, you can drink regular coke until you are sick but sampling sodas from all over the world is infinitely cooler. apple soda from china? tutti frutti from brazil? so much better than what we're knocking back in the states. what gives, coke? why do I have to pay nine dollars to get my paws on the yummy apricot soda from japan? why the deprivation? do you really think we're going to go crazy over blak? especially in the heat of the sweltering summer months? deep down, we both know you're not fooling anyone.

3. hit up the park and enjoyed about three seconds of relaxed conversation with beth. sun was shining, perfect breezes were blowing and fresh cotton blankets had been laid out. unfortunately, I spent most of my time chasing after the ez. finally, we plopped kids into strollers and walked down towards little five points. back in the day (aka=my early twenties), this neighborhood was my world: where I performed, where I shopped, where I ate, where I lived (first apartment on my own, complete with greasy slumlord, cockroaches and the occasional dude passed out on the stairwell-- I was living the DREAM). I've long since outgrown that whole scene but do so enjoy driving through the neighborhood each day on my way to pick up ward from work. but on foot and through new eyes-- so much more fun than I thought it would be. yes to the superb people-watching and spontaneous drumming. and now there's an american apparel which makes me so very happy. beth, what would we have thought at age sixteen if we could have seen twenty years into the future? as we were dancing around your room (in our underwear, natch) to prince's under the cherry moon, what would we have thought of this weekend? I wonder.

4. took ava to her very first slumber party. if I hadn't been so preoccupied with reminiscing and entertaining, I might have cried a little or spent the night worrying about her. I will admit to feeling just the tiniest bit envious when we arrived, though-- what, with the trampoline in back and the box of tiny mewing kittens on the back porch just waiting to be held. I swear, if I had been invited to a slumber party like this at age five, I might have passed out. what more do you need? round-the-clock pony rides? unlimited access to a candy buffet? unicorn seminars? I was so about trampolines and kittens at age five. as ava was jumping on the bed with ward sunday night, she declared that it was nothing like jumping on a REAL trampoline. tell me about it, kid.

5. watched old dance recital videos from 1985. painful, people. so painful. the costumes, the music, the choreography. beth and me in powder blue ballet skirts, dancing (if you could call it that) to the footloose power ballad 'almost paradise'. and then me in black fishnets, undulating and freestyling to the warbled sounds of that song from flashdance that everyone used to looooove (maniac, you know you loved it). oh yes, and remember THIS? ah, but these are my roots. and I can't turn my back on my roots. I can laugh until I cry and pee my pants but I can't turn my back on my roots.

6. slept. not really and truly until it all was said and done, not until after beth and I said our goodbyes sunday morning. but I did finally sleep and it was a deep and wonderful sleep fraught with dreams I cannot remember. (thank you ward)

7. spent time obsessing over the lack of good photos taken over the weekend. a couple of gems but mostly lame and poorly shot and all my fault. I was too wrapped up in the whole scene to be thinking about photography. I am officially bummed out over this.

8. and in the last moments of sunday night, I got down on my hands and knees and thanked God for google maps. because as I was talking to my brother, he admitted to me that he was lost. lost in that really bad way, that frantic way that you makes you scream obscenities into the night, that scary way where you don't ever think you're going to find your way out. I'm not speaking metaphorically here-- the train he usually takes home (home=brooklyn) wasn't running and so he took a different one and got off somewhere he thought might be close to his apartment and just started walking in the direction he thought might be the way. an hour or so later, he found himself walking along side trainyards-- dark, desolate, creepy train yards with not even one person around. okay, a person here and there but what were they doing hanging around in the black quiet of said trainyards? no one wants to find out. and it got a whole lot worse before it got better (deserted coney island on a dark sunday night is the very thing nightmares are made of) but then that light bulb thing happened over my head (really, just like the cartoons, I swear) and I decided to use my computer for good instead of evil. somehow, we were able to talk him through it and he found his way home. von is not rattled by too many things and I felt a little like a 911 operator talking someone off the ledge. I knew this mac was good for something other than flickr and the blog. I KNEW it.