So this is day 4 of the 10 days of glorious vacation. I have tackled my list with a fury but am not half way done yet. One of my major projects is to make this site all pretty and write because man…. there have been some interesting things going on at the Allen household.
This weekend I went to see a friend that came into town from overseas. I sipped on too much wine and started blabbering about stuff that I have theories on but wasn’t able to articulate clearly. Geez. That’s why I have stopped gulping alcohol in the first place. I need to have a electric-shock chastity belt hooked to my mouth. That is not me, OK maybe it is.
I like to bullshit like everyone else but when I have had wine, sometimes I feel like I just want to hear myself talk or to add in too much information. After I obsessed about the play by play of my verbal mud tumble, I realized these are friends. That if really know me, I am full of bullshit sometimes especially if there is vino involved.
That’s one of the things I like. I like gathering in small groups and bullshitting. Talking about people with sincerity and without contempt. When a friend is sick, a mound of people gathering up to talk about what they can do to help whether they want it or not. What their kids are doing, what new trick their dog learned, how annoying their spouse is but they still love them.
People are interesting.
OK, time to put on pants and take my daughter to summer school.
So last week was Alex’s middle school graduation. It was a one
and a half hour event of speeches, tips for the future and bad jokes. My parents, Gwen and I sat in the rows of families. And my sister, bro-in-law and their two kids, Aidan (3 years old) and Ethan (1 year old) were sitting in the back because the boys like to run around and can’t sit still.
So right after they handed out the diplomas, the slide show
started. I went to the back to stand with my sister and hold
Ethan to give her a break. We were chatting and Aidan
turned this distraction into action. Within seconds, this
buzzing blip sound started ever 5 seconds and lights were
flashing. We looked over and Aidan was still pulling on the
fire alarm. So with half the crowd groaning and half the
crowd laughing, my sister scooped up Aidan and ran outside
like he was in trouble.
Her husband tried his hardest to push the alarm back up but
you need a key to reset it. And many other fix-it type people
tried to force it back up. I felt an unstoppable urge to laugh,
so I edged out the door outside. And one by one we filed
out. My bro-in-law and Ethan, Gwen and my mom and dad.
And I just was cracking up.
My sister and Aidan appeared and she was so apologetic
and said she hoped Alex didn’t think his cousin ruined his
graduation. I giggled and said Alex looked like he was
miserable with all the crying girls around him, touched by the
end of their uncomfortable middle school years. Alex was
fidgeting and kept looking at me like “save me.” So we
waited outside of the buzzing blip noise for the program to
end. And I pictured a Nichols Hills firetruck zooming around
the corner at any moment and that made me laugh even
harder. Then after about 15 minutes, the noise stopped. We
sent Gwen in to get Alex.
He walks outside with a big grin. My sister starts to apologize
and Alex stops her and said. I was ready to get out of there. That was so perfect and great. I was done.
And that sums up Alex’s middle school years with a buzzing
blip.
I need a new camera, the lens keeps closing whenever it wishes. So I am going to work on that this week. The only picture that turned out was of Gwen.
On another note. This week has been a busy success. I am now able to park in my garage after spending the past few weeks getting rid of unwanted items. I still have a ways to go but I am excited that I don’t have to get in a bird-poop covered, overheated car all summer.
And my vacation which starts Friday won’t have to be wasted on garage silliness. I can concentrate on crafty goodness and clearing away all the paperwork of old. I took 6 big tubs of papers to the recycle station. Emptying the bowels of my clutter sure feels good.
At work we discussed who our top celebrity crushes over 43 years old are and this one was easy for me. Made my fellow co-workers google him. Ira Glass. Is it his voice or his intellectual manner? Is it his glasses or the way he moves his long fingers? The fact he likes poker books? Sexy.
Today is my day off. It’s supposed to be a free-for-all, no-bra hammock day. But I cursed my next few days of freedom with the beginning of an organization fest that even Martha would be scared of. I have been on a frantic spring cleaning frenzy which has left my back screaming, knees cracking and arms groaning for mercy. I didn’t realize how much crap we have assimilated. Most of it was garage laden stuff that we haven’t even looked at since we moved in. At our old house, we had two storage sheds chock full of books, outgrown clothes, and paperwork. This grew into a pile for 8 years and was now lining my garage like insulation. Nikki, my spring cleaning partner in crime, had a garage sale this weekend. So I took buckets and buckets of things over there. This started a war with my clutter-infused mother and Gwen. It doesn’t matter that you can’t walk through Gwen’s room now but she needed all that crap from a past life and she got my mom on her side. Grrr…
So I am now resting my six-pack in the making to sort through 8 years or more of paperwork. Shredding, recycling and filing away. I wish the paperwork fairy would do his/her business while I was at work this week. I have a feeling I will be staring at this until I take my vacation in June.
I love Mod Podge and my friend’s photography. My form of permission to use this work was giving it to him as a birthday present. I pasted a copy of his lomo photo onto a slim cigar box and inserted the clock mechanism. Put a hanger on the back and voila! My friend Nikki and I are going to make a few more this weekend. That is… if the wine doesn’t distract us from the business at hand. Craft night!
I spent 8 hours on my garage today, cleaning stuff from my life and various mind-decluttering. My dear friend Sean brought me lunch and we caught up on various life events. I have been waiting anxiously to find out the future of my kids’ education and have been worried about what’s to come next. And ta da… right as Sean and I were saying goodbye… I checked the mail and sweet goodness. Their transfer was approved. My son will be attending my old high school instead of a gang-abused cess pool. And my daughter will be attending my old middle school with many of her elementary school friends. Yay!
So what does this mean? It means I don’t have to move from the house we have made into a home. Not for a while, anyways. And I can now concentrate and worry about something else. Whew. Including this blog, which I will be adding pictures and images soon.
Next step… continuing to make progress on training for the marathon in October.
Blog 1, Scene 1, Act 1
A Beginning
A premiere…. Ta dah!
OK, OK that’s enough. Today is the day of mothers but let’s cast off the pretty bouquets and homemade cards for a moment of serious introduction. Clears throat… I am a woman named Gracelynn. I am a mother, single by status and by habit. A resident of Oklahoma City which is more than cowboy boots and outdoor plumbing. I was a teenage mother and still kinda am one at heart. (A teenager that is, the mother part is more permanently etched.) Now, I feel disbelief that I have been a mother for half of my 31 years and boy those years are waving at me saying… “By the way, enjoy the gravity while you can still feel it. Death is next.” Yay (biting nails). But really folks, it seems like it wasn’t that long ago when I was pregnant at 15 and I remember vividly when being knocked up turned from a concept and a disaster to a heartbeat and the very center of my being with a sonogram and a kick. That was further imprinted into a loving burning sensation after holding my son for the first time and not just from the stitches. (My sweet 16 picture, while I was 5 months pregnant)
Whew, getting a wee bit teary. It has been a marvelous journey thus far. Though, I am a bit worried about the teenage years. My strapping son, Xander, is now 15, firmly entrenched in his XBOX and dreaming of his first car. I also have a beautiful and unique (in a good way) daughter, Gwen, who is 12 but her hormones and mood swings are more 16. I don’t want her to get the not-the-first, not so fresh feeling. She was just as much of a blessing at the right moment and completed our family unit. We have all grown up together and not without others that have enriched our lives.
But you know, it’s easier to talk about all this now.. than it was when I was going through this at the time. There is a perception of the teenage mother. It seems like they will always be portrayed a certain way (in a trailer, hopeless, a burden on society) but do you ever see them grow up? Well, not that I want to be the poster child by any means. I just think it’s interesting to think about. Like this little nugget…
When I was pregnant, a woman approached me with a strange look on her face. I thought.. maybe I smeared my lipstick or still had lunch on my face. She groped my stomach and asked how old I was. I looked at her, 16 in a few days. She then exclaimed I should be ashamed of myself, did I know who the father was and then without time to answer any of these with a fuck you finger… she said she would pray for my child and walked away. And poof she was gone. I left the store with tears welling up to match my ankles, but they soon dried up into eye boogers of fury. I knew from that day forward, I would need to work twice as hard to accept people for who and what they are. That I, Gracelynn Allen, wanted to move past judging others and embrace them. This, over time, has failed miserably like some of my other ideals but I try to recognize it whenever it crosses my path and pass the idea along to my darling loin seeds. But I will always remember that woman carrying pleated slacks and a sweater with embroidered frogs on it at JC Penneys. And think, at least I have better taste in clothing. Which in 1992… XL Sugarcubes shirt stretched to it’s last threads, mary janes and maternity elastic banded rolled jeans… need I say more? (Ick). God, how I wish I had worn a tube top instead.
So today and everyday to all those who went through xx number of hours of labor and wiped many a dirty hiney, happy mothers day. For honestly, I would have never survived without my own mother there to help.
