50 Book Challenge

11. The Clique by Lisi Harrison

I generally like young adult fiction but the above kind of sucked. The true crime book I'm currently reading does too. But I'm going to start reading two more books this weekend, one of which is something I've read before, which I'm reading again for book club, and it's a good one, so at least I know I'm guaranteed one good read in the next few days. Although I would still argue I shouldn't have to read something I've already read to read something good. It's annoying that all these books are turning out to be kind of crappy lately :-/

I'm not saying everything with which I've ever festooned a vehicle makes tons of sense or anything, but... why exactly would anyone want to put, on the back of a perfectly nice-looking car, a sticker with a picture of a monkey that says "I Fling Poo"? Is there any logical explanation for this? I think not.

More for the 50 Book Challenge

9. Final Gifts : Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs, and Communications of the Dying by Maggie Callanan & Patricia Kelley (BC, *)
10. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby (*)

Now I get to pick something new to read! I have a true crime book, a Tuesday Next sci-fi thing, a teen novel, and a couple of other things to choose from...

This may be a new record in lack-of-blog-updating, even for me. But it's been a busy-ass couple of weeks. Last weekend my friends were here and it was pretty much an eat-, drink-, laugh-, sing- and shop-fest for three or four days. Lots of fun, and we got to spend it with Mr. E, the world's cutest baby! A true humdinger of a Cluckfest.

Some total asshole stole Rachel's bike last weekend. I hope whoever did it gets big painful boils all over their face and private parts.

My friend Janine's mom died on Monday morning. I met her once and she was a lovely, nice lady. I know Janine and her boys are really missing her, and I've been thinking about them pretty much constantly this week.

I managed to chop up the pad of my right index finger when I was trimming the bushes with electric hedgeclippers on Wednesday afternoon. Thanks for Sue for coming over, calming me down, cleaning up the blood I dripped all over the place on the front porch, and driving me to the doctor's office. And to think just the day before, I'd been lecturing her about being too available and dependable for her crazy friends!

Thursday I was part of a committee who interviewed speech therapists for the school district. It was very interesting and I kind of enjoyed it. I'm still curious about how I made the list of special-ed parents who were asked to participate though.

Ryan hurt his tailbone and has been complaining about it a lot this week. I don't blame him -- I've suffered through that particular malady before and it really sucks.

This week I "had it out" with my parents in a pretty major way. We aren't really the kind of family that does that kind of thing, so I gave it a lot of thought beforehand, and then when I did speak to them, I did it by email, which seems kind of wussy, but just thinking about what I wanted to say got me crying so I decided it was best to do it that way. The basic issue is that for several years I've felt like we don't get to spend very much time with them. It seems like they are always doing things with other friends, other relatives, everyone but us, and over the years I've had my feelings hurt over specific incidences of this happening more times than I can remember. I was afraid that my mom wouldn't take it well, but in the end I'm glad I spoke up. Both of my parents agreed that we all don't see each other often enough, and they both assured me that seeing us is as important to them as seeing their friends. I also found out that my mom is really, really stressed over everything that's going on with my grandma right now, and so I feel bad to have dumped my issues on her right now, but on the other hand, now that I know about it, I can step up and do some things to help out, and being left out of these kinds of things has been another frustration of mine. So ultimately I think it's a good thing I spoke up. The kids and I will be going down there to see them tomorrow -- I'm going to help my mom shop for some things for my grandma's new place, and the kids will spend the day with my dad.

On the way down, we will stop in to see my brother's fiance and her sister so I can try on the bridesmaid dress they ordered for me: http://www.maxstudio.com/website/product_pages/4308g57/section_category_sale_dresses-8-jad_main.htm I'm taking my bag of push-up bras and magic underwear, and hopefully I won't look like a total cow in it!

Okay, two hours is probably long enough to have sat on my ass with the computer...

To the Guy I Ran Off the Road This Morning

I'm sorry.

I was turning left. You were going straight and had the right of way. I was paying no attention and just turned right into your path, causing you to swerve up on to the curb and coming to a sudden, rocking stop. You looked terrified and stunned.

It was completely my fault, and I can't apologize enough. If there'd been anywhere for me to stop and lean out the window, I would have called out an apology to you and let you spew profanity at me for a few minutes. But I was behind you and already blocking traffic, so I had to drive on, and I wasn't even able to make eye contact.

It was completely my fault and I suck. I was talking to my friend in the passenger seat and not paying attention to my driving when I should have been. I am so glad you didn't hit anything or get hurt. If someone had done to me what I did to you, I would hate them forever. I hope you tell everyone you see today how some total moron almost killed you this morning, and how they should watch out for the chick in the white minivan.

Again, I'm sorry. I hope the rest of your day goes a lot better.

50 Book Challenge

I just read about this online challege to read 50 books in a calendar year. Sounds like fun! I read a lot anyway, usually in the range of 1-2 books a week when I'm in a "reading mood," so it's possible I could do double the 50-book goal, but then I let reading go by the wayside quite often as well, so I do think 50 books is a good goal. Being in two book clubs will help with diversity of selection -- otherwise the whole list would probably be made up of true crime books *blushing*

This will be my first entry. Hopefully I can remember pretty much everything I've read so far this year. I will note which ones are book club selections (BC) and which ones I'd recommend (*).
1. The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (BC,*)
2. The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell (BC)
3. All She Wanted by Aphrodite Jones
4. The Amateur Marriage by Anne Tyler (BC)
5. The Art of Mending by Elizabeth Berg (BC)
6. Breaking Her Fall by Stephen Goodwin (*)
7. The Sweet Potato Queen's Field Guide to Men by Jill Conner Browne (*)
8. The Birth of Venus by Sarah Dunant (BC)

Right now I'm reading Final Gifts : Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs, and Communications of the Dying by Maggie Callanan & Patricia Kelley, which is also a book club selection. Next will probably be another true crime book.

William

Yesterday I yanked another one of his front teeth out, at his request. He said it hurt, but he didn't cry. I have to admit, I'm impressed. Between the tooth-yanking thing him learning to ride his bike (and always recovering quickly on the occasions he falls off), he's been pretty tough lately, and generally that's not a word I would use to describe him.

Inertia

He's home "sick" today. And sadly, I think I let him stay home in large part because *I* was feeling lazy, and I knew that if both kids went to school, I would have to get dressed, ride my bike to the gym, and take torture (otherwise known as stability ball) class, then after having coffee with Sue, ride my bike home BUT if he stayed, home, I'd get to sit on the couch with my laptop all morning. Which is exactly what I've done. I've *thought* about going out to the car to retrieve my yoga mat and then using it to do my yoga tape, but so far I haven't actually done that. Nor have I paid the bills, something I wouldn't even have to get off the computer to do. Instead I've been sitting here reading random blogs and chatting with my not-so-talkative friends while Will watches TV and fondles himself. Someday that boy will learn to keep his hands out of his pants when others are about. But I suspect it won't be today, because we're both being way too damn lazy for something that productive to occur.

I know I will feel A LOT better about myself after I do something on my mental to-do list, so why is it so hard to actually get moving?

Autism is a fact of life in our house, and I finally learned to that it was okay to laugh about it, thanks to my friend Judy, who also has a child with autism. When she told me sometimes answered the phone "Judy's House of Autism!" and talked about having "the auties" in the backseat of her car, I busted out laughing. And guess what? The sky didn't fall and no one was struck dead and crispy by a thunder bolt. It doesn't mean I don't take my child's disability seriously, and I'm not making fun of my child -- I'm just finding the occasional silver lining on the cloud. So thanks for that, Judy.

Last night at Bunko, Gerri, a woman I don't know very well but whose husband's softball team played Ryan's last summer, asked me if my daughter was playing softball this spring, and I said no. I don't go around explaining Rachel to the whole world -- for instance, if she says something weird when we're checking out at the grocery store, I don't whisper "she's autistic!" to the checker or anything -- but usually I do mention it to people I'm acquainted with, especially other parents, with whom I talk about parenting things. So I continued, saying she didn't really play team sports, and then, "she has autism." For some weird reason, this met with peals of laughter from my two other friends, Sue and Jeannie, who were sitting there (in their defense, we were all a little drunk), and Sue goes "that's a sport in itself!" And we all cracked up (though Gerri looked a little uncomfortable). Anyway, it was fun. It was nice to be among friends who know my sense of humor and who I know are fond of Rachel but understand our struggles too. Sometimes all you can do is have a laugh, you know?

In related news, yesterday afternoon, Rachel freaked out about doing her homework -- it was very nearly a visit to the "Vortex of Indecision" where we used to go almost every day -- and I thought "oh shit, spring's here!" I made an appointment for her to go to the doctor so we can talk about upping her anti-depressant and get her on an antihistamine. I really hope we can get through the rest of this school year without too much disruption -- I know it's probably too much to hope for for her to do as well as she did last year, in such a structured classroom, but I'm hoping she's matured enough in the last year or two that she at least do better than she did two years ago, when she kept getting sent to the principal's office :-/

The Oscars

Yeah, I know, everything there is to be said about the Oscars has already been said, and most people don't care anyway. But I'm going to talk about them because this is my damn blog and I feel like it.

We watch the Oscars every year, and this year I was actually kind of excited about it for a while because it seemed like some actual good movies were nominated for some awards. Then I got sick of all the hype and if Ryan had said to me a few minutes before it started "Let's rent a movie instead," I would have been fine with that. Then the stupid show started and I was glued to the set for the next three hours (except when I went to the store to get some dinner).

General comments: The actresses are all too skinny. Messy hair looks... messy. Dear Renee Zellwegger: have you ever noticed that people start talking about how great you look whenever you're carrying some of that "extra" Bridget Jones weight around and then we are start saying you look like a scarecrow with fish lips when you lose it again? Oh, I don't know -- just thought I'd mention it. I seriously thought Penelope Cruz was Salma Hayak and vice versa, up until the one I thought was Salma left the stage and then Ryan said something about Salma's hair and used the power of Tivo to prove to me that it was Penelope who left the stage. Can't stand either of them so it doesn't make a whole lot of difference, I guess.

Hilary Swank's dress was a cool idea, but the front needed to be executed a lot better for me to give it a thumbs up. I liked her hair though. Take the dress from her first Oscar win and the hair from her second and you've got a pretty awesome look overall. I didn't like the short spiky hair on her the first time around and I liked it even less on Annette Bening this year. Maybe Annette thought that's what made the difference the last time around and adopted it for herself.

I hate to agree with Kathy Griffin's E! Fashion Police opinion about anything, but I thought Imelda Staunton looked pretty awesome too. So did Kate Winslett. So did that actress from "Maria Full of Grace" who was supposed to be so great but who we'll probably never see again. Okay, doesn't Gwyneth Paltrow probably keep, like, a stable of stylists around her, and couldn't one of them make sure she wears a dress that is flattering to her bust to the Oscars one of these days? By my count, we've now seen her wear way too big (the year she won), way too small (this year), and way more than I wanted to see (the year of that black mesh diaster). Aside from that, her hair looked flat and boring. This woman is a fashion icon?

Scarlett Johanssen's hair looked fuzzy to me. Maybe a little less peroxide?

Wait, there were men there? I guess nobody much cares since it's not as fun to ask "who" they're wearing when one tux looks pretty much like all the rest of them. I will say that Johnny Depp looked ridiculous. It's not that much fun to make fun of him for that, though, because "ridiculous" may well have been exactly what he was going for.

I'm not even going to say much about who actually won awards, since I didn't see hardly any of the movies that were nominated. I'm just going to whine about my biggest pet peeve, which is that the two screenplay awards have become more a consolation prize than anything else. It seems like most years there's a movie that gets all kinds of Oscar buzz and is intelligent and usually a comedy, and everyone seems to love it but in the end it's just not as big and flashy and dramatic as the eventual winner, and the next thing you know, the smaller buzzworthy movie has lost all the acting awards, and director and best picture -- forget it -- but the screenwriter goes home with a little gold guy and hey, that's a prestigious one too, right? Only -- come on. How many times has this happened? This year it was *twice* -- people peed themselves over "Sideways" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" (both comedies, it must be noted), and they got all kinds of press and have won all kinds of other awards prior to the Oscars, but on the big night -- oh, sorry, we don't want you to go home empty-handed, so here's the writing prize. Last year, I didn't begrudge "Lord of the Rings" a single award it won and I didn't even like "Lost in Translation" all that much, but it was the same story -- one was big and one was little. And the most egregious example I can think of was the year that big bloated piece of crap "Titanic" won almost everything it was nominated for (it wasn't even nominated in the Original Screenplay category, which to me is evidence that there may be a God) while "L.A. Confidential" went home with a screenplay award and Best Supporting Actress for Kim Basinger (!?!).

Don't get me wrong -- I absolutely think the screenplay awards *should* be prestigious. If I were to win an Oscar, a screenplay award is the one I would want to win, and the films that win them do tend to be really well written, so at least there is some justice there.I'm glad Charlie Kaufman won an Oscar because the guy is just brilliant -- he writes some of the only movies I've ever seen where I sit there halfway through them thinking "I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen next!" I was similarly happy when whoever adapted "Sideways" won, because that movie was incredibly funny.

The problem is that both of those movies deserved to win other awards too, not just the consolation prize. I think the fact that these really cool but not big and flashy enough movies win screenplay awards but not usually much else, even if they get tons of nominations, is symptom of just about everything that's wrong with movie-making these days. For me, it all begins and ends with the script -- I don't care if the scenery and special effects are any good if I don't buy the storyline, and the most brilliant acting performance just suffocates under the weight of bad dialogue. I probably sound elitest and all, but I don't care. Drama or comedy, it has been be well-written if it's going to get my stamp of approval. And in my perfect world, the screenplay awards would be the most important awards they gave out.


Anyway, those are my Oscar thoughts. Or the ones I can think of right now, anyway.

Being Completely Stupid, or Why I'm a Bad Mom

This evening I had one of those situations that just makes you feel like the biggest pile of crap ever. The other day, Will went up to Ryan and said he had hiccups and needed to be scared. I have no idea of Ryan yelling "BOO!!!" at him a few seconds later actually made his hiccups go away, but for some reason when I was going upstairs this evening I was thinking about that and I decided to sneak up on Will and give him a scare. I determined he was in the "new room" with the door closed, listening to Beatles music, and even maybe dancing around some, so I burst in and yelled "BOO!!!" as loud as I could.

At which point my sweet baby spun around with a horrified expression on his face and burst into tears.

Now, I know better than this. It wasn't too long ago that we were watching a Kings' game and when Mike Bibby sank a three-pointer to tie the game right at the buzzer, Ryan and I both yelled "YES!!!" so loud that Will, who'd been sitting there playing with his K'Nex and minding his own business, shrieked in terror and sobbed. (And then they still lost in overtime.) So it's not like this sort of thing is without precedent, and I really don't know what I was thinking.

Of course I went right in and hugged him and apologized profusely, but I wasn't quite done trying to get myself off the hook, so I explained that I thought he might have hiccups so I decided to scare them out of him. He pointed out, through his tears, that you really need to check and make sure someone has hiccups before you do that too them, which of course is absolutely true and made me feel worse. I kept rubbing his back and finally said that I was just trying to be funny, and I realized that it was a mistake and apologized again, which he seemed to accept. Then I told him the great thing was that he got to pay me back and scare me sometime. Mr. Finesse that he is, he proceeded to do so three times within 10 minutes -- only once with much success -- at which point I told him he'd probably paid me back, and he agreed and seemed cheerful.

Anyway, another lesson learned. The kid is a little fragile. I won't mess with him like that again.

Soccer, or Why I'm a Bad Mom

My name is Tracie, and *sob*... my children don't play soccer!

We live in one of those towns where youth soccer is not just an activity -- it's a way of life. I suppose most suburban American cities like this anymore, but here in Davis, we don't do anything halfway. Therefore, it's pretty much expected that once a kid gets to be 5 or so years old, Mom is going to sign that kid up to play soccer. I managed to avoid this with Rachel due to her autism -- no one questioned it -- but now that William has been of soccer-playing age for two falls and I have yet to sign him up, I seem to get called on it more and more. My reasons for not signing him up are these:
1) I hate soccer.
2) My husband, who loves all sports, hates soccer.
3) Will hasn't asked to play.

I think these are good reasons. I think they are the only reasons I should need to get myself off the hook for not signing him up, and most people let it go with that, but on increasingly frequent occasions, parents I'm conversing with on the subject behave as though not signing my son up for soccer is a subtle form of child abuse, and I'm forced to trot out the rest of my reasons:
4) We don't, as a family, care to take time out of our weekends to go to soccer games and such. I don't mind weekday commitments and the occasional weekend event for Girl Scouts or Little League or something, but I just really don't want to have to plan every Saturday for several months around soccer games.
5) I played soccer as a kid and detested it, so it's not like my loathing of soccer just comes out of nowhere. I do seriously hate it, with reason.
6) Although Will is not really much of an athlete, he does play tee ball, and has asked to take gymnastics and tennis as well. If he wanted to play soccer, I'm sure he would ask to do so, but he hasn't. I have to assume that means he doesn't want to. Trust me, the kid is not shy about asking for what he wants.

Believe it or not, this still isn't enough to satisfy some of the people I've talked to. One mom completely blew off everything I had to say and kept arguing about how great it was. Well, I guess that's wonderful for her family and her kids, who I assume enjoy playing soccer. And if Will was chomping at the bit to play, I promise, I would sign him up. But for God's sake, I simply refuse to buy that there is something essential about playing soccer for any kid growing up in the suburbs, something so important that he or she is going to get out of it that the need to expend time, energy and money on it overrides things like the fact that the kid has no interest in playing and his parents don't really care to go there, all things being equal. It's a pair of cleats, a ball, and a net. I think he can learn just as much about sportsmanship and all that other good stuff playing some other sport that he's actually excited about playing.

I feel like rambling this morning, probably largely because none of my friends are online for me to ramble to. That's probably a good thing since I'm in this rambly mood.

Lots of stuff happened this week. In addition to me getting a bike and riding it all over the place, I also got my first ever traffic ticket, for failure to yield. I've been trying to decide if that's some kind of metaphor for my life. Anyway, I think it was kind of a BS ticket, as do all (three) of the people I've told about it so far. Ryan thinks I should fight it, and offered to go with me and argue my case. I gave that about 2 seconds of consideration, especially since he followed up his offer by telling me we probably wouldn't win. And what exactly would the point of that be?

My grandma is evidently in the hospital again, which is not good, of course. I need to call my mom and find out what's happening on that front, but I keep putting it off.

In much less important news -- the Kings traded Webber. Yee-haw! He's an excellent player for another team, but his presence has been throwing off the Kings' chemistry for close to a year now, and that amazing teamwork they have is what makes them great. I hope he goes and kicks butt for Sixers (not against the Kings) but sorry, I'm glad to see him go. Now our awesome guys like Bibby and Miller and Songaila and of course, my baby Peja, can really shine :-)

The sun is trying to come out today and I'm glad. Ryan was supposed to go to San Diego this weekend and he cancelled for a couple of work-related reasons that I didn't agree with and I was kind of annoyed about it, but I told him he needed to go play 18 holes of golf and he's planning to do that. I also promised the kids I would take them on a long bike ride and I'm going to do that too. I'd said Borders, but who knows -- depending on how well they do with it, maybe we'll go all the way to campus and hang out at the Coffee House for a while instead. That would be fun.

Tonight I'm going to Mom's Night In and will get to hang out with some friends I haven't seen much of lately, so that will be nice. Not sure about the concept of staying in rather than going out and why it would be superior, but I don't have little kids anymore so maybe that's part of it. And that's pretty much the whole agenda for this weekend. As opposed to next weekend, which is ridiculous (scrapbooking with my aunt Ann and the Girl Scout cookie site sale Friday, helping to set up for the Montgomery Auction, the Auction before-party and the Auction itself on Saturday, going bridesmaids dress shopping on Sunday) and the following weekend, when the Hens will be here (yay! I heart that!). I really have a tremendous amount to do in the next two weeks and I should probably wrap my brain around that, but at this point I'm mostly thinking about going shopping for something to wear to the Auction next weekend and other silly things like that.

Speaking of the Auction, I've got paperwork to do and I suppose it's time to make myself useful so I should really get to it...

The Dog

Everyone should have a creature who loves them as much as Buster loves me. This morning he whined at our door and woke us up, which was fine and made sense, since it was after 8:30 and we certainly prefer him coming to ask to be let out to decorating the carpet and he probably had to go pretty bad by then. I came downstairs and let him out, then went back upstairs to put on some sweats and slippers. The kids let him back in and he bounded back upstairs. Ryan was going back downstairs by then, but he came in demanded attention from me, so I had to sit down for a minute and rub his head and tell him he was a good boy before I changed my clothes. Then he sat at the top of the stairs waiting impatiently for me to come with him, went downstairs just ahead of me, looking back no fewer than three times to make sure I was following, then sat and waited for me on the couch, ears perked and looking somewhat forlorn while I made coffee. Now he is settled in against my thigh here on the couch and I really don't have the slightest doubt he would stay here all day, without moving, if I didn't move either. I find this all a bit weird because it seems like he's become somewhat clingier lately for not apparent reason. I mean, I know I'm his favorite -- there has been no doubt in my mind since the incident where he stole several pairs of my underpants out of the dirty laundry pile I left on the floor and absconded to his bed with them -- but we've had him for nearly five years and he used to be able to go up and down the stairs without making sure I was right behind.

He drives me crazy and I complain about it him all the time, but geez, it's hard not to respond to this kind of devotion. Sure, he barks, and he has the worst breath in dog history, and he acts pathetic, and we can't take him anywhere, and in the last few days he's unloaded such lethal gas that I worried my eyelashes might be singed off, but he's cute and cuddly, and recently when I was bitching about him in a chat room, my friend Judy said "you know you love that little shit." Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.

Sorry my new bike has been keeping me from updating my blog the last few days

Yeah, I know, I was lousy about updating even before I got the bike, but that's my excuse this week. Anyway, other than picking the kids up from school yesterday because I didn't want to listen to Rachel whining, I have maintained a strict policy of riding my bike anyplace I want to go in South Davis for the last few days, and yesterday I even ventured to the other side of the freeway into town. Had coffee and bought a couple of books at Borders, then came home. I love have a basket to carry things in! I love the ache I get in my thighs when I've ridden a ways! I love my bike! Yep, I'm seven years old again...

I've often thought I was enjoying a delayed adolescence in the last few years, but today I experienced a return to something more like the age of ten, when I got a bike and rode down the street. A couple of weeks ago, I taught my son how to ride without training wheels, and since then I've been enjoying him ride as fast as he can up and down our street. Ryan and I have dallied with the idea of getting an adult bike for the two of us to share since Rachel learned how to ride two years ago, just so we'd be able to go on rides with the kids sometimes, but we never got serious about it. One of the carrots I dangled in front of Will when he was learning a couple of weeks ago was that I would get a bike so we could ride togther too. Till now I've made do with getting on my rollerblades and getting out there with them when they've wanted to go for a spin. But Ryan won't do that, and I know he didn't enjoy running behind them to the park yesterday. Plus today is such a beautiful day. So I decided to go to the bike shop downtown where I've been admiring cruiser-style bikes for the past two years, and when I got there, this big purple one caught my eye. The bike store guy said I could take it for a spin around the block if I was so inclined, so I thought, what the hell? And I climbed on it and took off down the street.

Wheee! Why did I ever stop riding a bike? Well, I do remember that none of them were ever as comfortable as this one, which has a nice wide seat and those big handlebars that make it so you don't have to lean forward when you're riding. There is also the fact that I have mostly lived places a lot hillier than Davis in 13 or so years since I rode a bike much. Still, I was surprised as how quickly I returned to that feeling that I know my son has when he's zooming up and down our street on his little bike these last couple of weeks. It's the kind of feeling you just don't get driving a car. Well, not after the first couple of weeks you have your license, anyway.

I did take one more bike -- a less expensive blue cruiser with the boy-bar across the frame -- out for a test-ride, but it just wasn't the same as the purple one. So I brought it home, and took it for a ride around the neighborhood before I put it away. Hopefully the kids will be up for a ride when they get home too...

I sure hope Ryan doesn't mind riding a purple girl-bike!

The sun is shining here today. I am thinking about walking to school to pick up the kids this afternoon, though I know that decision is likely to meet with nothing but complaints from my charges (little ingrates). We should enjoy this weather to the fullest, if only in appreciation of the fact that we don't live where there is snow on the ground and the mommies have to write to their e-friends for advice on what lotions will keeps their kids' skin from cracking and bleeding. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know -- you guys love the snow. Well, you can keep it. I'll take short-sleeves weather in February, thank you very much!

Good news

MCI hasn't called in several days. Maybe they read my blog!

Coolness, Pt II

Some interesting (to me) tidbits about coolness:

1. I've recently become acquainted with a high school classmate (I don't say re-acquainted because I actually didn't really know him in high school)who lives nearby and we've become friends. A few weeks ago we had lunch, and it was interesting talking about high school because his concept of who was popular back then was completely different than mine. I tend to remember the cheerleaders and jocks and all those people, while he kept talking about his advanced-placement classmates, the people who ran student government and all that. It had never occurred to me that other people would have a completely different perspective on who all got all the attention back then. Incidentally, this guy who is my friend now was quite cool himself. He probably didn't think so, but I remember

2. A couple of months ago, a friend of mine told me her 15-year-old daughter had told her, "Tracie's so cool! I wish she was my mom!" Sad how happy that made me. The experience of it was tempered somewhat by the fact that my friend told me this right in front of her daughter, and her daughter and I avoided eye contact after that.

3. The rules of coolness have definitely changed since I was an adolescent.
A lot of people probably think the fact that I drive a minivan is uncool. I know driving one doesn't make me cool, but I think the fact that I fully acknowledge that minivans aren't cool and I still love driving mine makes me cool. I have my nose pierced because I think it's cool, not in hopes of having other people think I'm cool. And so on. Overall, at the ripe age of 34, I think I have achieved a level of detachment about these kinds of things that would have made me seem extremely cool at 16.

4. I enjoy my life a lot more now than I did when I used to worry about trying to be cool. I should probably not be devoting so much thought to coolness right now -- it's likely to harsh my mellow pretty soon.

Coolness

Since I started writing this blog, I have been thinking about degrees of coolness. I read other people's blogs sometimes, and I've discovered from that exploration as well as having read a few other kinds of sites that there is some kind of legion of coolness in the blogging world to which I (and most of the millions of other blog-owners online) do not belong. I've only come across one -- it's entirely possible that I'm not cool enough to have come across the others. The people who are part of this legion all seem to have connections to one or both of the following websites: http://www.damnhellasskings.com/ and http://www.televisionwithoutpity.com/. I enjoy both of these sites and I honestly don't mean to disparage anyone connected with them in this post (or any subsequent posts on this topic). I am just really intrigued by the idea of people becoming prominent online, and having others come to think they're cool, based on what they write. Let's face it: I'm jealous.

The idea of being the author of a "famous" blog appeals to me for so many reasons! Just writing down my random thoughts and experiences, couched in what I imagine to be my rapier wit, and have people bookmark me and check my site regularly for new pearls of my wisdom? Receiving actual entries to my guestbook, frequently hearing how awesome I am? Referring to all my other hip blog-community friends by their online names, and the cool places we go and interesting, blog-entry-worthy experiences we have? Does it get any better than this?

I don't expect it to happen though. Largely for the same reason I keep not doing anything to get my novels published -- I'm scared. I'm scared of drawing attention to myself, and I'm scared of making people angry or offending them with something I've written. For me, it's always been this way. Question: how much does cool have to do with a) not caring if you make people mad, and b) willingness to draw attention to oneself? The number of people I've even told that I have this blog is pretty small. My own husband didn't know I had it for two months. I give out my daughter's blog address more readily than I give out my own. But really -- I didn't start this blog to remain anonymous or maintain my privacy, and anyone who uses that reasoning really needs to think about it some more. I have never been one to keep a journal -- it's always bored me. The fact that people might read what I have to say here is the entire reason I'm writing. The fact that not many do is probably one of the things that keeps me from posting more regularly. Overall, I'm kind of disgusted with myself on the whole blog-front. The whole idea of seeking prominence is, in the end, just too scary. Woe is me.

Enough of my pity party. Time to use the blow dryer before my hair is lost cause for the day. Don't ever say I don't have my priorities in order!