Awkwardly Social

In all my selfish sick haze, I forgot to say Happy Birthday to Amelia, who is one year old today!

Happy Birthday, kid!

Today is her birthday! She’s gonna have a good time!

Happy birthday, Allie. Make a wish!

I was going to try and recap Louie’s Birthday BBQ, but honestly, I don’t really know where to begin, or end. Mixing my friends (Louie’s new friends) with Louie’s Hollywood friends, and work friends, and college friends, and highschool friends and parents and siblings together, made for some strangeness. Me announcing I was pregnant for no reason other than to get a laugh as I took a swig from Tony’s flask, made for some awkwardness with Louie’s mom, but not in the way you’d expect. The “I’m pregnant” joke has to be put back on the shelf and left to gather dust, I’d guess… for at least the next ten years. Then running into Jesse at the Farmer’s Market as a tipsy Allie successfully kept herself from yelling out “JONAH!” and wondering if Jesse actually knew who we were or was just being polite. Finally we were driving home (me driving, Allie trying not to barf as I changed gears) and parking, and putting on sweatpants and watching television in our freezing living room.

I really, really, really hate it when the weekends end. Grey’s Anatomy feels like Little House on the Prairie used to. I remember hoping that Laura wouldn’t go running down the hill, that the theme music wouldn’t play, and the credits would just stay away because that meant bedtime. And that the weekend was over. Now I get really panicky when Ellen starts VO’ing and the music starts montaging and the credits start rolling. Because, it means bedtime, and that the weekend is over.

still tired
ran 3 miles last night
didn’t brush my hair after the shower
or this morning
weight lost - 10 lbs.
all i do is think about margaritas and green corn tamales
i miss ichatting with my boyfriend
ordered new running shoes from the internet
feel that ordering new shoes from the internet was a mistake
happy birthday dad
i would write something really nice about him right now but i’ll save it for later when i don’t feel so stupid
it’s a big one for dad
he’s 65
wait, is it 2005?
i actually just checked
it is 2005
he is 65
love you
bye

Well little lady, four years old today. I’m sorry I can’t be there on your special day because I know this birthday is a big one for you. Not only are you turning four, you’re a big sister now. I don’t know what it feels like to be a big sister, because I was always the youngest, but I want you to remember that no matter how much it seems like Amelia is trying to steal your thunder, she’s just trying to grow up big and strong, and most of all, to be like you.

I’m not sure if you remember your visit here to Los Angeles way back last year, in May, but we went to Disneyland. And we rode a ride that I would have never gotten on when I was your age. The rocket ride. Do you remember it? We went up so high and you never got scared once. Then you came back in February, and rode the ride with Louie. Again, you smiled and laughed and never gave a second thought to taking it all the way to the top. I hope you always approach your life that way, Ms. Fiona. Never getting scared by the things that hold the promise of the most fun.

I love you so much, and even though I can’t always be around to hang out with you, I think about you every day.

Have an excellent birthday, Fiona!

I’m at home on my crappy dial-up AOL account. But I wanted to say happy birthday to a few people.

Jenn over at Milk and Karma - who makes a mean margarita and can write the crap out of a screenplay.

Jonah - who you always want at a party.

Mike - who makes awesome guacamole and tells a great story.

and two new ones who we aren’t sure what they’re good at yet, but they’re a day old so… no pressure. Twins! I can’t wait to meet them. Congratulations to Jennie and Dan!

Many years ago, on Valentine’s Day, Allie’s parents totally did it. Nine months later, Allie was born.

Happy Birthday, Lady! I think you owe us a long blog entry detailing your twenties. Here I’ll start.

1. Frat boys, rugby, and Big 10 football.
2. [now you go…]

I love you very much. Even if you are a Republican.

While looking for a ‘better’ picture of the Globe Theater. [sighs heavily, sometimes being internet saavy is no fun]

1. I had a dream last night that I almost missed a flight. The stewardess [heh. I can’t stop calling them that. Even when they’re men. flight attendant is too unweildy. take one point away from me become an enlightened human being] where was I? Oh. The stewardess had closed the door and since FAA regulations require that you must not open the door once it has been closed she told me I could go in through the tiny window on the door. Michael Gross and someone else were also waiting to climb in the tiny window. While the stewardess stuggled to get my square bag through the round window. I said, “Hi Michael Gross.” And shook his hand. He said, “Do I know you? Oh yes. You were on this flight to Minneapolis last week.” Instead of argueing with him I began to try and jam myself through the tiny window. All the while the plane is taxi-ing down the runway with the tube thingy attached and being driven by a guy who was having a hard time keeping it steady. I don’t know if I ever got on that plane.

2. I finished a book this morning at 5am when I couldn’t go back to sleep. [incidentally that dream above was a nightmare. I woke up with a start and had drool all over my pillow] And was a little disappointed that the dad who had brain cancer didn’t die at the end. What does that say about me? I might be a little morbid. But! I needed a good cry and was sure when he got the hiccups, that was it. He was a goner. Nope. He totally survives. At least ’til the end of the book. In my imagination, he dies a year later.

3. I couldn’t sleep without the white noise of the fan last night. But since it’s been getting cold in LA, I was freezing all night. Woke up two times, wishing I didn’t have an addiction to white noise, or that my EMT was staying over so I could put my cold feet on him.

4. Jen’s b-day was this weekend. HAPPY DAY YOU WERE BORN!!!

Mom’s mom, Grandma Farm as we used to call her (then she became Grandma Lakes, and later just Grandma, we named our grandparents based on location, side track…sorry) is turning 90. Ninety years is a really long time, considering how long these 28 years have felt. But the thing is, if I eat a shit load of bacon, ham, roast, fried chicken, bread and butter, I too can live to the age of 90. Three out of four of my grandparents did and they ate some greasy ass meaty food with real butter. Oh how I love real butter that’s been sitting at room temperature in one of those little butter containers smeared on white bread. The one Grandpa who didn’t make it to 90 (and I loved him so much with his pipe, sitting in front of the Twins game in his Barca lounger, taking us to the lake and the big ass water slide, sneaking us M&M’s before bedtime, insisting that we get Lucky Charms for breakfast, berating at his Whist partner around the dining room table in a terrific German accent…) died peacefully in his sleep.

Any hoo…I’m going up to the Land of 10,000 Lakes to see my Grandma, and my aunts and uncles, and maybe a few cousins and first cousins once removed, eat some birthday cake, take some pictures of the lakes and if I’m lucky visit the Mall of America. God I love that ridiculous monument to capitalism…

So if you don’t hear from me for a couple of days that’s what’s going on.

Happy Birthday Grandma!