These are two of my most favorite things I have read this week.

This is from an article in a magazine about the twin cities that made me want to get in the car and drive to Minneapolis....immediately. They really talk like that. I know. And they don’t even realize they’re doing it which even makes it quainter. They really do radiate nice.

“That warm, oh-gosh-you-betcha Minnesota nice radiates through the entire area – the bustling city centers, the gleaming lakes, the tree-lined residential streets and beckons to visitors of all ages.”

How could you not want to go there? I was talking to someone last spring as they were driving between two small towns in Minnesota. They had grown up in one and were visiting their grandfather who lived in the other. I pictured the grandpa sitting on the front steps drinking lemonade, just taking it all in, waiting for the grandson to come home who had made it big in the city. He sent a few cell phone photos, but what was really impressive is that you could hear the shear love of the beauty that he was seeing in the simple description he was giving me. Later that trip I bet on horses at Cantebury Park via text messages. Somehow I lost $20 and I wasn’t even in the same state!

It’s not that far...right? I pick the summer of $4 a gallon gas to decide I need to go there on a road trip. It’s closer than Rhode Island, which I really want to visit...it’s so tiny! I actually met a girl from Rhode Island recently and that’s why I told her I wanted to visit her home state....it’s so tiny! I’m sure she feels they may have a little more than that to offer than size...or lack thereof.



The following came in an email that made me almost fall off my chair. I had to read it several times. Quite possibly the nicest most poetic thing anyone has every said about my birthday.

“The longest day of the year fast approaches. The Celts & Slavs celebrated with dancing & bonfires to help increase the sun's energy. The Chinese marked the day by honoring Li, The Chinese Goddess of Light. Amazing to think ancient cultures could have predicted the day a girl from Washington, MO would be born. A greater mystery than Stonehenge I think. Accordingly, the Summer Solstice arrives every year to bless us with the longest day of the year to provide ample time for celebration.”

Remember in the last thing I wrote and I was railing on my nephew for giving his girlfriend a ring for high school graduation? Then I remembered that incredibly dramatic young love...my first love? Well, that’s him. Haven’t spoken to him in over 5 years I’d guess. Hadn’t thought about him in I couldn’t tell you how long until I was on a trip recently to Chicago and my old roommate asked about him. Which I thought was totally out of the blue. But he asked about her in his email too. Apparently I’m blocking out a huge chunk of time that we all were a part of. I think it was just so chaotic how could she not forget him? I moved in just a short time after the period where the “happily ever after the college years” of the first love of my life was interrupted by the arrival of the second love of my life. A psychic, actually I believe it was two, told me I would have two great loves in my life. Upon my questioning they couldn’t confirm if I’d already had them or not. They just didn’t want to upset me, but I know, I’ve had them. It’s ok.

He has adorable twin boys (he sent pictures)...and one divorce, which seems to be pretty recent as far as I can gather, but I’m not sure. One friend immediately has us a part of the world’s sweetest love story, however, a recently divorced guy at work thinks it’s a lot less romantic than that. I think it’s somewhere in the middle. He was, for a long time, my best friend on the planet. It was a blessing and a curse, somewhere we landed in a very friendshipy almost platonic place. College was hard. One night I was asking him about a test and I finally said....are you still in school? To which he replied no. He worked full time at this crummy job which took all the fun out of him and completely drained him. I saw him a few years after we graduated and he was much more fun – he was rollerblading and all the stuff I tried to get him to do when he was too busy trying to be responsible and make money. I was the pseudo spoiled girl who only worked when I was home on college breaks. Didn’t really compute until later what he was actually going through.

I was not a very good girlfriend. I would say – you know, I think we should see other people. Which meant that my French tutor was really hot and I was going to date him for a while. And then we’d get back together after that went south. When I was waffling and trying to figure out if I was going to continue my life with first love or take a chance on the second, I remember Fred telling me – one you decide if you leave, you leave. He knew my stupid school girl history. And I liked him saying that. I didn’t want to be the girl that treated someone like that. It wasn’t right, but I was young and stupid and that guy was young and lazy.

So I starting thinking about things I hadn’t in years. But it was so long ago it was like watching someone else. I’d just get random memories throughout the day. On my 21st birthday I have a memory of him coming in with a picnic basket. I’m not even sure where we are in the picture in my head. He didn’t always like kids and I distinctly remember when my nephew was little and his guy picked him up and held up out with straight arms, like he was a bomb or something. His grandfather was in the merchant marines – and a mason –he had amazing tattoos to go along with his amazing stories. He made some comment about how he was a hopeless romantic. And I said I knew it was true love when I got really sick at his house and he took care of me. To which he commented that was his OCD. I had forgotten he was funny. Of course he was. I would never be with someone who wasn’t. So we’ll go to drinks at some point and try not to get drunk on stories of the “way we were.”

Promises promises promises

This is my mother’s response when my 18 year old nephew’s girlfriend is standing at the sink (which my mother would call a zink) trying to get her ice cream open with a small diamond on her wedding band finger and I say....Did you get a RING for graduation? Silence. Repeat question. Nothing. She retreats into the living room as quickly as she can and sits down next to my nephew whispering frantically. I do not like embracing the bitchy aunt role, but alas Trisha did not make it in for this holiday. So I ask his mom, and she says – well, not from her parents, real coy as if this is some how a good idea. I try to squelch the speech rising up from my core on don’t throw your fucking life away on your high school girlfriend – learn from your parents mistakes!!!! And I calmly ask...are they engaged? No, it’s a promise ring. After promises, promises, promises, my mom also says – I’ve heard that before.

So all afternoon I’m thinking oh my god they are just like his parents. My brother and my now sister-in-law spent all of their high school years together in my parents basement where she did his homework and wrote him notes to get out of class. Textbook good love gone bad...really phenomenally bad...and maybe good again – apparently they are getting along better, but they’ve only had about 15 heinous years in between, not sure I see the point. I think they want to redeem themselves somehow with my nephew – jock – check, in a relationship – check. Yes, he is a typical red blooded American boy going off to play football at a school in Iowa in the fall. The size of a mac truck. I am so proud of him and only want him to be happy, but I’m so afraid that something is going to mess it up – like knocking up your high school sweetheart and working at some gym for the rest of your life in a small town with small ideas. My niece is the artsy skater emu teen. She wants to go to trade school and become a designer. God help me. She is so talented. My goal is to finally wear her down and convince her to go to a four year school.

So after being freaked out by my nephew and his promised one, I realize - I had a promise ring. I remember that. Going up to his room on graduation day where he had a special present for me that he didn’t want to give me in front of the family. Me coming downstairs to smiles and hugs from his parents and relatives. I wonder if one of his aunts wasn’t secretly saying – what the hell are you thinking??? They all played it off quite well if they were. Maybe they are not my brother and his wife, hopefully they are me and Matt. Ah young love, first love, which was smart enough to end before you get out of college. It’s painfully dramatic, but we are all the better for having experienced...and left it behind.

My mom gave my dad the sweetest father’s day card. They truly appreciate each other every day and have for 50 years. They don’t need the scare of my mom’s hospital visit to make them realize it. I was really hacked at my oldest sister who did not come to dinner because on father’s day her husband gets to decide what he wants to do, and that does not include spending time with her father...he really says that, which makes me so angry. If it were dad that was in the hospital recently it would be a different story, it’d be all new and fresh that maybe she should appreciate him. He was her father way before that guy was her husband. So annoying.

My father loves taping things. They are getting direct TV next week so their whole world is going to change....possibly involving some domestic violence as my mom clobbers my dad with the remote control when he has 200 channels to surf. She said they watched something the other night that was from 1992 – she could tell by the commercials. We watched The Bodyguard with Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston today from the early 90s too I think. I love saying things like “dad, aren’t you glad I’m not in the secret service so you don’t have to worry about me so much?”...just to watch him give me his textbook dad grin.

It had its points today where I wanted to scream “am I the only one who thinks this is crazy??” about many different things, but all in all, as far as family holidays go, it was a good day.

Little pumpkins with tennis rackets

I think they’ll stop at the pool...good day for swim lessons. Nope, kept right on walking my same direction...then I notice the adorable Dora the Explorer cover on her tiny tennis racket. The cutest! During my class I look over and there is a whole court of them, lined up by the net – rackets held up high and sturdy. Pink, blue, purple little rackets. A tiny one waiting for the next class walks over with his superman racket cover dragging it behind him by the handle.

I don’t know why I was so mystified by them this morning. I guess because they were on the next court and I wasn’t really within earshot – only heard one meltdown. And my class didn’t have any parents trying to cheer on their little one and still play doubles with us – that is so annoying. It’s better when the parents aren’t around, they were letting the kids and the teachers have fun. It’s usually the parents that are the problem. As attested to with my Whole Food incident and the “I have hiccups” kids.

I’ve been to 3 different groups of tennis classes this session because of make ups. Each group has its own cast of characters. Tuesday is most fun and laid back, but there is suzy needs all the attention in that class sometimes who drives me crazy. If you need a private lesson – take one. We’re all about the same level, have all been taking for several summers, so how come all the sudden you don’t know how to serve? Same way this morning. I was with an entirely new group, except for one guy from a few summers ago who now has distinguished graying hair – how does that happen? He was fresh out of college a couple of summers ago and now looks like he carries the weight of the world with him. But there was one girl who didn’t even know when the ball was in and out and kept calling my serves out and the teacher kept having to correct her so the game was getting all jacked up. I can serve well if I get in a rhythm, but I get shaken easily. However it was hot as hell this morning so every time she had a question or wasn’t in the right place we got to catch our breath. We all need help, that’s why we’re there, but be real.

When I start to write this, I need a shower. I’ve gotten to that point where if I don’t hop in the shower right after I come in the door I get preoccupied with a zillion little things and then I’m dry and can live with myself again...for a while. This would drive Lou crazy. I’d come over from my tennis lesson all sweaty, pony tail, ball cap...I’d be chit chatting and playing with the dog. He’d be cooking and getting me a glass of wine. He was good like that. You’re going to shower before dinner...right? Hmmm....usually I needed to antagonize him a little more than I needed a shower at that point. Really squeemed him out, which made me laugh. He always really liked me in the tennis skirt and baseball cap, but more wanted to think about it after I was cleaned up and in bed. Once I asked why we had to wait until bed, why not just throw down on the couch when I walked in if he was all rev’d up by my sporty self. I think his ocd overruled his desire. Got a text message from him while I was writing this. Lately have always been about red Italian ice. He always eats the red first-I prefer green so I always have the upper hand...in the freezer. He sent a picture of Lady, his dog, napping by him on the couch – really cute, until I realized that used to be my Sunday comfy nap spot.

Wednesday night I go to dinner at Remy’s and then end up at Barcelona – so my friend can smoke, not sure why she couldn’t at Remy’s but it was Parties in the Park which neither of us realized and the people watching was not disappointing. This guy walks in who I’d gone out with once. “John music” – whose great taste in random music was far outweighed by his annoying self deprecating humor. He approaches me and says – we know each other...right? Yes. I politely ask if he’s still running marathons blah blah. A co-worker that was with me said – I think she knows him because they’ve run marathons together – the other one who knows me all too well says - Staci doesn’t run marathons. Luckily, we leave soon and I explain.

Then Friday night I go to the movie with some friends...The Visitor – go see it. It has the dad from 6 Feet Under. I see this guy when I’m ordering my Heineken and popcorn – best feature ever in a theatre...the bar, by the way. So I see this guy that looks vaguely familiar and he’s looking right at me, like wait for it...you’re going to recognize me any second. I did. “Jeff lawyer” – as opposed to John lawyer who was a lot of fun and played tennis. Jeff lawyer had, I swear what was literally a check list, that he would go through when you were having conversations with him. I netted out in the mostly pro column. For like one date. He had this intense sarcastic sense of humor and intense presence – like he could look right through you and just make you want to throw him up against the bar, which I really liked, but I felt like I was constantly in an interrogation – or one of those psych tests where he would answer the same question 5 ways just to try to trip you up. Tiring. After we spent the last half of our date being that annoying couple that’s a spectacle at the bar – which I probably never had been before nor will be again, we leave. At the movies he would not let go of his date’s hand, even pulling it over his head to maneuver through the crowd looking right at me the whole time...and even when he put his arm around her when they were leaving he turned around and looked at me again. I hope through the whole movie he remembered how he was up by 2 – let’s just say I’m better at some things than he is.

Earlier this week I’m on Gmail – like the wii, I think it makes me seem high tech. I get a message from havi, which is so strange because I just had written about him the day before. Apparently he lives down the street from me and rides his bike by my house every morning on the way to work. I ask him to leave coffee on his way by, but he has not delivered. I then see him in his car on my way to tennis Thursday...and the world gets smaller.

So let’s recap....95% of the men I’ve either gone on a date with or dated semi-seriously in the past few years has had a cameo appearance in my week. Don’t you think that shouts...MOVE OUT OF THE FUCKING CITY??? I do. It’s like they are all carrying a sign that says CHICAGO.

Randy was even trying to schedule time to talk, to which I ask....are you ok? to which he replies, I just wanted to say hello. Then call and say hello, that would be really nice – I thought Tomah had died or something. After the year I’ve had with family, I’m a little paranoid with...I’ll call you in an hour...or can you talk tomorrow afternoon. He, of course, now will not call.

All these cameos and yet no leading man...hahah.

It’s been so crazy and fun on the weekends since memorial day weekend in Chicago – then di in town last week – my birthday winery trip next week – and then the wedding the following week....then 4th of july. Weeks are filled with tennis, yoga and even golf starting in a couple of weeks. At some point, having a drink and catching up with the world traveler, which I am really looking forward to.

So I thought it would be good to make no major plans today. I’m trying to enjoy it, but I’m kinda bored. I’m usually very good at entertaining myself. I drove to Nordstrom at West County mainly to get the Shrimp Cilantro salad, which is seriously worth the drive. Tried on like 20 black strapless bras at Victoria Secrets for my dress for Di’s wedding. Tried on some sexy nighties, only because they were on sale, in a whole ‘build it and he will come’ theory, but it just seemed too ridiculous...but they were cute. Noticed while I was in the fitting room at J Crew I did a terrible job with the spray sunscreen today....lovely pattern of my tennis shirt...sweet. Such cute dresses there! But they close at 7 – how dumb is that, so I need to go back. And one dress I like buttoned up the back....how the hell am I supposed to put that on at home? Zipper is hard enough....but you can usually zip it then shimmy it around...sometimes.

I could go out to my parents and get a jump on the father’s day festivities, but they are probably sleeping in the chair by now. I could finish my laundry which is in piles on my bedroom floor or go find a jewelry box so every pair of earring I have wouldn’t be scattered all over my dresser. It does make it much easier to find them. I could go grocery shopping. Nah. I could make a list of all the things I could be doing....or I could just go do something : )

OH – you must listen to Ingrid Michaelson. Must. Must. Must.

I'd choose the fall

Yoga – massage for your mind. If you don’t focus you fall over. This is what Trisha told me about yoga. I think it’s a pretty snappy tagline. As I lay on the floor in my first yoga class my mind was reeling. I’d just started using my gmail account again and deleted Havi out of it that day – before I could finish it said “In Peru.” So if he was in Peru who was in his apartment next to the yoga studio which had its windows open? Maybe his girlfriend, maybe his wife by now. Actually I’m guessing he probably doesn’t live there anymore. Last we spoke, at least a couple of years ago, he was restless and looking to buy something downtown. Maybe he doesn’t even live in St. Louis anymore. Maybe. This is what I think about as I’m supposed to be focusing on my breathing. I finally settle into the class and let my mind melt away. It’s seriously like a massage for your brain. All you do is breath. Focus. Breath. Move. Hold. Breath. Close your eyes. Focus....on nothingness.

If you don’t focus, you fall over. But some days I just prefer to fall. Focusing is too hard. Decisions are too difficult. Change and decisiveness are heart-stoppingly frightening.

This weekend Di was in town. It was so fun! One of those weekends that makes you forget that Wednesday you got a call your mom was in the hospital and you rushed home. My oldest sister called and said – moms in the hospital, I’m supposed to tell you not to come home....and whatever you do don’t call Trisha. So I leave the office immediately, throw some clothes in a bag, grab my bear and head home. I don’t have time to buy my mom a bear so I take her my favorite that’s in my bed. This would be a lot stranger part of the story if I didn’t work where I do. I’m alone and I’m scared. My “run to in an emergency and cry” people are very far away. I put my bear in the seatbelt and hold his little hand most of the drive. This makes me feel better. Just hold my hand. When I hit Washington I call Trisha. (I know I know, I can’t follow directions.) As my mother shakes her head when I walk in the room I say – I didn’t come home for you – I came home to watch that big screen tv and take care of dad. She laughs and is very glad to have the company. I needed to see her with my two eyes. She was safe. She had good color. No danger.

I run to Walgreens to get her toothbrush etc...and when I get back in my car the key won’t turn. Not the engine....the KEY. Stuck. Nothing. I of course being a claustrophobic freak throw open the door as I start to break into a sweat. Ironically enough my sister in law sent me an article earlier that day about a woman who had to call the police because she was locked in her own car. With the note...”hey at least you didn’t make the news.” So here I am again – who CAN’T get the key to turn? My acura roadside assistance sticker catches my eye in the window. I read it backwards and call the number. She doesn’t even laugh at me. She tells me to shimmy the steering wheel, slam on the brakes and turn the key at the same time. It works. Seriously, I’m a dork.

I head back to the hospital until my mom is ready for bed. She needs to get up once and tells me I have to unplug her IV. I look at the wall and I’m not even kidding there are at least a dozen things plugged in. I have no idea what’s wrong with the woman in the bed next to her, but I’m convinced I’m going to unplug some sort of life support. I’m guessing my mom is wishing one of the other kids was here at this point after I just recounted my car experience. I make her turn on the over-head light and I finally get the right one unplugged. Get her tucked back and go home.

Damn. That TV is big. And what is my dad watching? Some western from the 60s. Horses are really big. Amazing picture. I do not, repeat do not need a 47 inch TV, but WOW, it’s fabulous. I don’t hear him shouting out in his sleep or snoring really loudly through the night – this keeps me up, because I think he’s up. Slept like a baby he reported in the morning. At least one of us did. He’d had a long day. He’d been out playing golf all day and when he got home he went straight to the emergency room with her. She waited for him to finish his game....however she did comment if he had a cell phone she would have called him. That’s a big statement.

She’s home now. Talked to her this afternoon. Out of the hospital 24 hours and she’d just gotten back from the grocery store. Moms – they’re like robots, but cuddlier.

So Di was expected in on the Amtrak late Friday night. She said the STL station is located at the corner of hell and 16th street and she’s not far off as I witnessed when I dropped her off today. It doesn’t really have the razzle of “meet me in STL” that I’d be looking for as a tourist. It would be more like...stay out! we don’t like no strangers!

A lot of people met in the CWE for drinks and an art show of a friend of ours. It was also the taste of the CWE. As the rain stopped for a while you would have thought it would have cooled off some (no) I walked through the festival for a bit. My recently showered and sassy self is now a gross and sweaty mess and I’m sure look stellar. I’m standing with a group of people trying to say goodbye so I could get the hell out of that oven they called a festival and an X walked by. Not just an X, but one on what was clearly on a double date with some tiny blond. Seriously, I’m not a large person, but it seems to me the people I date end up with women that are child size. Child size. I’m not exaggerating. I can’t compete with someone who shops at Limited Too! When I would tell a story and say...when I was little...Havi would always say “you are little”....well if I’m little than that last girl I saw him with was microscopic. So the good news is, this X kind of looked freaked and frazzled, maybe he started drinking again. (bam! That was lighting striking me down for being such a bitch) I didn’t mean it, truly truly, that was the best thing he ever did. Obviously he looked like the rest of us who had been sweltering away on Euclid. She of course looked fresh as a fucking daisy. Along with my theory about the X having to pay for any retail therapy that occurs because of the breakup, I also think the one who leaves the relationship has to leave....town.

I head downtown to a bar to hear a band of a former co-worker. It’s his birthday. Short of this story is....he should replace the fro-mullet wearing lead singer, however they would lose a lot of their comic effect – because not only does he have the hair going for him, he has this trampy, stripper type groupie and her daughter - no you read right – daughter that put on a nasty floor show. One of those things you wish you could swab out of your brain. They do a sort of West Side Story dance off move onto the floor. Apparently Amy almost got in a fight with one of them at a past show...easy to see how.

Fresh from the X spotting on Friday night we head to the SATC movie at the Chase Saturday afternoon. (after I bought a fabulous white strapless dress at this wonderful store called Mary Janes across from Koppermans (hmmmm matzo and eggs) ...you must go there. They carry that jewelry designer whose pieces I fell in love with in Toronto – foxy – must less getto then it sounds – really cute) So, here I am with some of my favoritest girlfriends. I believe we were all together when I had the big series finale martini party a few years ago. Strangely enough previously mentioned X was at that party...ugh. It was fun to go to the bar in the theatre and order an “Absolute Hunk” from the SATC drink menu. As if it were this easy, I say to the bartender and wonder how many times he’s heard that this week.

Now I won’t spoil it, but at end of the movie I was a little dazed and just kept repeating....I need a drink....a lot of them. And then went straight to the patio at Café Euo and did just that. It’s not the whole love will conquer all bull shit it’s more like....marriage – it’s is a fucking epidemic of happiness. Not only do I get all the love thrown at me from the big screen, I get to be reminded of how my best friends are now scattered around the globe. You don’t focus, you fall...these are times I’d choose the fall.