Grand Prix and the Ineffective Alcohol Police

My husband is NOT a morning person. I am a morning person if I have had enough sleep, but no matter what I am way better about getting out of bed first thing in the morning. That is apparently not true when there are fast moving motorized vehicles involved. Having recently moved to Long Beach we were both excited to see the Indy race through the streets around our apartment. But I was not expecting my husband to bounce out of bed at the crack of dawn.

At first I thought it was just a fluke. I assumed he was off going to the bathroom and would soon be back in bed. Instead I heard the distinct pop of his morning Monster. I still roll back over thinking I must be going crazy. Suddenly inches from my face is Chris's face just staring at me. I cautiously open one eye. With bug-eyed enthusiasm he announces, "I hear the cars!" After filling my camelback with iced coffee I was ready to go.

I could not help but be enamoured with his childlike excitement. I felt as though I was catching a glimpse of what a five-year-old Chris must have been like on Christmas morning. He bounced all around the apartment as we got ready to go watch the fast, fast cars. It was the perfect start to a fun weekend. We made dollar bets on many cars and as usual I proved picking by liking someones name or the sponsor of the car is the way to go if you want to win a racing bet. By the way Ashley Judd's husband who drives the Target car placed third, I win!

The one question I was left with has to do with the "rules" establishments attempt to make in order to keep people from getting too drunk. First, who determines what is too drunk? Second, the rules are inconsistent and do not seem to really do anything. At this event they choose to make beer cost an arm and a leg. I find this completely counter productive. Instead, those determined to get drunk consume mass amounts of alcohol in the parking lot. We all know a fast intake of shots does not hit you until later, so they now come through the gates, sit in the sun and the next thing you know they are hammered, not even able to stand. The company has made no more money and merely made the problem worse. Slowly consuming beer would be a better option.

Then you have a restaurant with reasonable drinks who can serve food on the extended patio but not alcohol. Everyone stands at the rail, leaning over to consume their alcohol. Seriously? How is this different than serving it in the two feet past the rail? No one checked my camelback. I had coffee, but I could have had the entire thing filled with vodka for all they would know. When are places going to realize rules have to be consistent and it should be about people taking responsibility for their actions? You act like a jerk, tossed, no questions asked.

Add that to the guy who screams at every single car that goes by like the driver can hear him and you wind up with many people to poke fun at. I am not even convinced that guy had ANY alcohol, though if I was a LA County fireman I would have ripped the shirt off his back so he would stop embarrassing them. The race was awesome, but the people watching made it that much better. From totally vamped out OC brats who didn't even know cars were there to the redneck with the gear like he was a driver, to the adorable little kids with ear protection the size of their heads, it was a great time :)

Teens for Borrow

When my Mom asked me to come and "watch" my siblings while she and her husband were out of town, my answer was a resounding "yes," as it always is. I of course realized my role in this capacity had changed as I was no longer "babysitting" but rather expecting to referee and make sure both children (and the house) lived through the experience. All plans for fun went out the window as Mallory came down with an inexplicable rash and a temperature. Coming from a medical family, we do not go to the doctor for much, but this was perplexing.

I took on my role a nursemaid with a sense of spunk. I succumbed to every culinary wish, provided movies, gossip magazines, and a comfy bed. While the whining was a little trying, I thought about how too soon she would be off in college and have to take care of herself. I miss the days of being able to curl up all on my own, or with someone rubbing your head until you fall asleep. (My husband does do this for me, but I went for years with "suck it up.") I kept her company and made sure she stayed hydrated while still keeping up with Ryan and sneaking off to watch a movie with him as I didn't want him to feel left out. I introduced him to "The Orphan," I don't think he will ever forgive me, but it was fun to watch him scared to death.

We ended up having many deep conversations only to find out my mother has entirely thrown me under the bus! I do not claim to have been a golden child, but I was not a hideous one. In the interest of keeping their father's escapades away from impressionable ears, apparently the only "bad teen" moments relayed to my siblings are my questionable moments. Are you serious? Ken was so much worse than I ever was and he knows that's true! I do not regret my mistakes or learning experiences but don't make me sound like I was the only one who had them. I suppose they will figure out the truth soon enough but I am rather proud of myself for keeping what I know quiet. I also do claim 15 year old angst mixed with divorce and a rather young step dad but that's a topic for another blog ;)

Back to taking care of the ill. I never thought about how often you end up going to the same store as Mallory went through more cravings than a pregnant woman. Good for Ryan and I as I got to give him plenty of practice driving his new stick shift car. By the end of the weekend I had been to Publix no fewer than a dozen times in three days. Spent hours at the clinic on Saturday only to meet the lamest doctor ever, who not only could not provide an answer, he really didn't seem that interested in actually examining her. This lead to an even more frustrated teen who could only think about how she wanted to be better. That accompanied with Mallory complaining about being there, like this was some sort of picnic for me? A new respect for all parents out there. Not only do you have to suffer through your own illnesses but everyone else's...ick!

On one of the many trips to the market I learned what taking a teenage boy to the grocery store meant. I couldn't believe how much junk he could throw in the cart as I only turned down the medicine aisle for a moment. When I questioned the hot pockets he said he didn't like the bagels Mom had purchased because it was "pre-packaged, pre-cooked food." And in fifteen year old speak that sentence makes sense. This led to one of the nicest brother/sister moments I saw as Ryan ran into Mallory's sick haven to show how he had picked up her cinnamon toast Eggos. A moment of sweetness. Followed by a "get out of here and leave me alone." Short lived but still cute.

Today, Mallory finally made it out of her funk and I dragged her out of the house because I had to go SOMEWHERE. We did spend another 2 hours in the doctor's office which has dictated we spend more time at the lab and xray locations tomorrow, but at least we were outside for a chunk of the day. My sis seemed to be back to her "almost" self until the nurse announced she had a temperature of 102 and we were forced to wait longer. She quickly regressed to a "whoa is me" cry, but I had become immune. Good at the fake smile and the rubbing of her head so she couldn't see me making a list of the things I would rather be doing in my head. A little Tylenol and she was back to normal which became a "be careful what you wish for" moment once Ryan got home from school. They were back to constant arguing in no time flat. I have to say it made me wish for a reason to keep one of them in a locked room all the time. Maybe Rapunzel was just the unlucky sister who was sent to be on her own for the sanity of others. You think they flipped a coin?

The question I am left with, is it better to suffer through a slightly needy child in order to offer some modicum of peace and a sweet, cuddly teen or is it better to suffer the 70 decibel arguments over whose friends are better and why the other one is totally given special treatment? Anyone have an answer? No, I didn't think so. What I do know is this is going to be one of those trips I remember forever. Not anything that we planned but a bonding moment full of laughter through tears and frustration. Bonding through being locked up together and ultimately a lucky older sister who got to be here for it all. I did still leave a message for Lisa who is planning on having children in the next year or so..."In 2026 remember this message as I dance a jig around you singing a chorus of I told you so!" Maybe I will borrow her teens too in case I have forgotten the message.

Comfort TV Part 2....Friday Night Lights

In homage to the final season of Friday Night Lights coming out on DVD soon, I have decided to discuss comfort TV again. I am a football junkie making it not remotely surprising I wanted to get involved with a football show. Add to it the stress of southern football and a town more entranced with muscled up teenagers than education and you had a debate I wanted to get into. I must admit, I watched the first episode of FNL wanting to love it and left feeling super disappointed. It did not take me long to realize that I had entered the showing with the wrong attitude. Much like other TV if you are thinking one thing you can ruin your experience by placing unfair expectations on what you are about to see. I sat down for a second viewing with a much more open mind.

I am not quite sure why I expected something more "Any Given Sunday," but I did. It did not take me long to grow into the complex characters that drew me in and kept me coming back for more. I know some of my friends will slap me for this given their experience with different show runners, but I couldn't help but feel as though I had walked into "Dawson's Creek" with more realistic dialogue. I quickly loved the tone of the show and the way the football brought out an important side of all these characters. Now I was a Creek fan, but this was so much more honest as to what people might face with the added joy of Kyle Chandler as coach. Then it hit me...I've grown up. I don't want to grow up and don't think of myself as a grown up and I definitely don't act like one a majority of the time, but liking this teary, heartfelt type of television more than overly articulated teenage angst, well that's a change. Is it a good one? Probably.

The speeches and lessons these kids learned, especially the hard way, did not feel as though they were being spoken down to. "Dawson's Creek" tried to do that by giving the characters a vocabulary out of their reach, especially Pacey...best lines but a high school failure, what? Instead these moments from family troubles, marriage issues, school funding problems, and even inflated egos were dealt with on a level that seemed genuine and often led to tears. And you do still get to feel a bit like a kid as you are dragged into the minds of the teenagers but you balance it out with well written adult characters. Adults you actually wouldn't mind being. I can't think of a single adult I would want to be on the Creek, they were flat, boring people. Is TV the reason I don't like the word grown-up? I was ecstatic when they found a way to keep the show going for another few seasons with a Direct TV deal, even though it meant I had to wait longer than others to see it.

Now as the series comes to a close I find myself saddened by the fact I won't have the coach to offer me sage advice. I won't have random debates to have with idiot boys who believe the new curly haired girl is just as good as Lila Garrity in different ways. (I call her not-Lila, he calls her Lila 2, as if!) I want the coach to turn the "loser" school into the best football school as a big "in your face" to the jerks now heading the Panthers. I want Tami Taylor to win out and get some funding for books and necessities, proving education does mean something to these kids in the long run.

It is funny how a show becomes associated with a time in your life, how you can be pulled in by the complexity of it as an escape rather than a stress. I am sure it will live on in my collection as one of the things I pull out when I need to hear what coach has to say just as I sometimes need to relapse into pop culture insanity via "Gilmore Girls." The only question that remains, do I lock myself up for 24 hours and have single FNL blow out or do I savor it and force myself to enjoy it slowly? Who am I kidding, I am horrible at self-control, it's gonna be a single all out marathon of television greatness where I hope Riggins and Lila find their way back to one another. Then I will go back to watching "Parenthood," another Jason Katims helmed show that will make you cry. It's not coach but the cast is stellar and the writing impeccable. I am certain I will be writing an ode to it as well someday.

      

The One Way Street of Compromise

"A Compromise is an agreement whereby both 
parties get what neither of them wanted."

~Author Unknown


"Swearing was invented as a compromise 
between running away and fighting." 

~Finley Peter Dunne

We all have our moments. Our irrational, childish moments where whoever is trying to tell us what to do is the devil and we are just sticking up for our rights. I believe this is an argument used by every teenager around the globe, though I am not sure what they quote in other countries, here it is often the first ammendment. I still haven't really seen a decent discussion as to whether or not anyone under the age of 18 actually has that right, or any right for that matter, because while they are "people" in the eyes of the law they are kind of still property ergo the ammendment is not one they can rely on, but I digress.

In marriage the inner teenager has a way of showing its ugly head every once in awhile. You try to state your opinion or desires in a way as to convince the other person you are right but every once in awhile they are not inclined to see anything from your point of view. Let the compromising begin. What I have discovered amongst most of my girlfriends is a simple fact, a compromise of any sort means it went "your way" and the only way it becomes the guy's way is if it is entirely done as they wanted it with absolutely no alterations. I can see the merits in the argument, but I find it stacks the deck unfairly against my side as then it seems I "always" get what I want because 4 out of 5 times we compromise. This is not "my way," this is the adult way. All in all it usually works out fine and there is not a second thought about it. And then there are the times when it is NOT okay.

These are the times when I regress to the childlike person who should not be allowed to discuss anything with anyone because it will end badly. These are the times when it suddenly hits me that it is NEVER my way, but rather a version of my idea mixed with some of his and I am not longer happy sharing the common ground. I wish I could find the giger counter on that moment. Heck, I am sure most of the male population would like one of those, because it is usually just one sentence too far, one small dismissal that suddenly sets off the inner teenager and getting her back in her room is rather difficult. My husband and I see eye to eye on most things. We usually have a great dynamic and we really don't argue. But he avoids conversations like the plague so when this irrational girl feels dismissed it becomes an epic fail in the area of compromise. Funny thing is by the end of the conversation I don't usually get my way nor am I pushing for it, I just want to be heard. I want him to see it from my side of the compromising tilt-a-whirl...of course he says he does, but I don't think he really gets it. Then I wonder, why does it matter if he understands my side?

Finally you reach the inevitable conclusion that compromise is a thing we all settle for but all the things you think of your mate are true of you as well. We are in essence self centered people, our realities live in our heads, how could we not be? So when you finally accept that it isn't a specific desire of the other person to ignore your way just a matter of perspective you find things go much more smoothly. Of course that doesn't stop that inner teen who just wants to scream about how unfair life is...you wish you could tell her it will always be that way and she would actually listen. That "fair" is also a matter of perspective and life is a wild and bumpy ride, full of adventure, frustration, and doing things differently might just be good for you.

Future Plans and the Anchors that Hold Us Back

I have always lived in quite the paradox. I love my family and my friends. I enjoy a routine where you get to take time to spend with people, getting to have a consistent involvement in other's lives. But at the same time I have always been a bit of a free spirit. While I seem to rail against change, I also embrace it if it involves travel and new experiences. Chris recently went through a bit of a job upheaval and through it all it has brought back to the forefront the idea of traveling and working simultaneously. Something I find increasingly appealing, yet I have developed some fairly significant roots.

This is in no way a unique problem. I think all people who venture out of their comfort zones go through a "how do I have roots and wings?" moment when trying to strike a balance but it becomes increasingly difficult when you are a party of two. At least that's what I thought. Now that my friends and I have scattered about the planet, family exists all over the US and some overseas, the idea of having a partner in crime to take on all the new adventures with makes it that much more interesting. You have a place to start everywhere you go so it is not entirely from scratch. Even better, while I have been building a career in Los Angeles, it is a career that can happen in many different locations, so we could bounce around from production to production, him from hospital to hospital and come "home" whenever we like.

Would I be sad to miss some of the day to day? Yeah. But we could spread ourselves out and spend time with different family in different places. Three months here, three months there, all the while getting to have those routines yet not getting stuck in a rut. Plus I think of all the time that gets wasted. The "oh, I will see so and so next week." When there's always a time clock on it, you force yourself to get a little less sleep and power through, increasing the fun to work ratio significantly, as evidenced by ever trip I have ever taken to NYC. I am not sure I have ever slept more than 3 hours at a stint in that town, thank you Craig, Shana, Murph, and Mat! The time restraints make you seize the moment, bed is no longer an option and I think I spend a bit more time "living" and a lot less time worrying. Maybe travel is just what I need to make the planner in my head stop and the spontaneous girl reappear...she's awful fun.

Procrastination....21 Days to a New Me

It is a well known fact I am the ULTIMATE procrastinator. Like the east coast me I love my lists and my "check" marks, but unlike her, I lack a focus at times. I would venture to say I could be compared to a bass in my ability to be lured away by almost anything shiny, almost anything that does not have a "have to do" label on it. I am not sure why, but it is a battle I have fought since the beginning of my memory. That being said, when I am against a hard deadline, I can burn the midnight oil in order to get everything necessary done. Problem is, currently, most of my deadlines are created by me, making them all flexible (sorta).

I stand here as the Queen of Procrastination, my biggest draw being anything to do with my friends or family. My Mom and Dad both consistently mocked my "social" life throughout my school years as it was always quite obvious that it took precedence over anything else in the world. This has lead me to having a very fun filled life but I sometimes wonder what I have failed to accomplish due to my lackadaisical nature. Of course this has only been compounded by having a husband. I would much rather do whatever task must be done for Chris than my own. Problem is, it often leaves me holding the bag on my own stuff because he can't do that for me, so I am now exhausted, grouchy and have no one to blame but myself.

The other person to blame is Chris, for needing help. Except did he really need it, or did I just want to jump in because I like to make him happy? Did I just use my quick computer skills to do something faster for him because it kept me from completing my dull work for the day? You can't really blame the person who needed your help if you just did it for them without them asking. Then you have to deal with the ramifications of them getting used to you doing it for them. You see, then it does become expected. But the paradox only continues as you realize you love to be needed and you love to do stuff for other people. It is way more fun to do their "must dos" than do your own. So who is really needy here? Who is really to blame for my lack of sleep and unchecked to do list a mile long? The same person who was to blame for my unfinished Calculus homework and my 4 a.m. completion of "Euthanasia, an Ethical Dilemma with no Answer," me, simply me.

I have come to terms with the fact procrastination is a choice. Supposedly it takes 21 days to break a habit. I have my doubts about this particular habit as it seems to always have a justification, but that is my version of Lent this year. 40 days of making good on what I am supposed to do until procrastination becomes a dirty word of my past. No excuses, no reasoning, just doing. Is it possible? Well this is my first step. A weekly commitment to my blog, Mondays are the day, early but never late...that's the goal. Can a procrastinator become a doer? Stay tuned to find out!

Manipulation, Synonym for Family Obligation?

We all have our "things." We have all done stuff to get our way, making the cute little face that says, "please let me watch what I want on TV," the adorable little snuggle that says, "please won't you have dinner with my friends tonight," and the utterly exhausted face that begs, "don't make me go out with your friends, let me just stay in and play Madden football." Some would call these manipulations. My husband would call it using my "girly powers" and I would call his version the "puppy face." Either way these are small little tries at getting what you want and I don't consider it manipulation.

I used to think other "guilt" type things manipulation because of have a guilt button the size of a wall. Here I am admitting to the world, if you fail at making me feel guilty you must be HORRIBLE at it. I am the easiest person in the world to make feel guilty, I still have not determined if it is a learned behavior or just in my DNA, but I am a people pleaser. An independent, stubborn, sometimes resentful people pleaser, but a people pleaser none the less. I want peace, I want everyone happy, I will do all I can to make that happen. Now it doesn't make me any less strong willed and I am in no way a pushover, but if I can find a way to make all sides get what they want I will. So I have decided guilt like that is not manipulation either because I still have free will.

Lies. Lies are manipulation. Specifically presenting something to someone that you know will get them to do what you want and presenting something else to the other party so in the end you get what you want is flat out, bold faced manipulation and it fills me with RAGE. I try not to let such emotions overwhelm my day or ruin my psyche but sometimes you just find yourself so frustrated you can't help yourself. I am not talking murderous rage, but yeah, sometimes. I just appreciate someone being straightforward. Tell me what you want from me. You might very well get a no, but lying to me so you ultimately get what you want, and then thinking I am dumb enough not to figure it out? That is what sets off the rage. I hate it when people think I am dim or dumb.

I get it, at the core. You are afraid I don't want to do something so you think of something I can't say no to so you get what you want. Simple concept, except I am not four and the distraction of the lollipop quickly fades. Truthfully, at this age it is probably a glass of wine and maybe a piece of cake, but either way I'm no sucker. Then you are just left with a pissy person doing the thing you wanted me to do and hating every minute of it. My not so mature part response involves me becoming a bit like a petulant child, that I will admit, but it is my only free will left after being tricked into doing something I clearly didn't want to or didn't have time to do. Of course, that is ASSuming I would have said no, because you never even asked! Instead you have gotten me where you want me, standing around being "here," but you can't make me do anything else. I even try to stop myself from doling out the very lame "pouty baby" punishment because it does make me just like a teenager, yet I feel I have the higher ground. I've been duped, tricked, lied to! You know what the end result of all of this is? I now don't want to do anything with you because I never know what your real motive is.

Lucky for me it is not my husband who does these types of things. Of course if he was, we likely never would have been married. I count my blessings in life everyday, but for all those who are considering the "bait and switch" with me or others, I beg you to reconsider. Straightforward honesty will get you much more respect as well as a person who is actually fun to be around as opposed to a pouty baby.