Bad Moods and Mean Girls

Hey, A,

I'm kind of in a funk today--somewhere between being sad and pissed off. I can't quite put my finger on it. I hate that. I hate more that I am 43 years old and still don't know myself well enough to say unequivocally that I am weepy because I am PMSing. Or because I've been thinking a lot about my relationship with W and wonder if it's time to call it quits. Or thinking about my relationship on the tail end of a bad period is inviting an emotional mishap...Maybe I do know myself well enough; I just can't figure out the exact proportions, which is why I am infinitely better at cooking than baking.

So I go to the pool at my complex, a heaven send for my lazy summer self, to get out of my own way and escape in my newest novel, and there two women there whom I've seen on weekends this summer, who set up their chairs right on the edge of the pool so their toes can dangle in the water, but thereby render a good chunk of the pool edge unusable for the rest of us. You can't swim from one side of the pool to the other without being greeted by their feet or beach towels or chairs. I don't remember them from last year so they must be newcomers, without much regard for the way things work, the culture of the pool. Not once last year did anyone set up a chair within 2 feet of the edge. It's just not done. Anyway, that's actually an aside, not the story itself. (Some things never change.) Last week when they were camped on the edge (mid pool), when I stepped out of the shallow end and picked up my towel, where I had left it nearby, I looked over at them, and they were both agog. Like they've never seen an overweight woman at a swimming pool before. I don't think they realized at first that through my dark sunglasses I saw them staring, but eventually they did, and it was too late for them simply to look away, I had been transfixed by their stares too long. It made me feel bad. And I was angry. What poor manners. What childish behavior. Grow the f**k up.

I guess I forgot about it until this morning when I went out and one of the two was already camped out on the edge. The other joined shortly after. I had my back toward them--positioned across the pool, my chair at least three feet from the edge, facing the sun, my back toward the pool so as to offer swimmers privacy--so forgetting they were there was easy. Until I got up to go to the bathroom and had to walk near them, where they were wading in the shallow end. (How appropriate.) I saw them look again, and the younger of the two held back a snicker. I tried to stop myself, when I went to the bathroom, from saying anything on my way back. Squatting over the toilet I did some quick self talk, convinced myself to be wise and self-composed. I may have been successful, ignored their white trash behavior if--when I walked out-- their conversation hadn't ceased. One may as well have said to the other shh, here she comes... So I threw my shoulders back and sucked in my belly and said, "What exactly is it about me that you find so amusing?" Then I walked on.

The trashier of the two said nothing, the other protested, "What?" I sat back in my chair, picked up my book and ignored her as she continued, "Is there a miscommunication? We weren't talking about you, I was just saying to my friend [...]" And then she became Charlie Brown's teacher. wah wah wah wah wah wah. I didn't turn around. I didn't respond to her lame back-pedaling. I pretended to read my book and thought about how unfortunate that here I am, grateful for the break from teaching high school, only to find life is just one big f*cking continuation.

My friend M would call me her hero for having said/done that, but maybe it only confirms that I am PMS, and a little paranoia has entered the hormonal mix. But I trust that you trust my instincts here. I am a good judge of character and have always been a keen sensor of energy. The women are stupid mean girls, and there's no reason I should regret using proper grammar and dignity to tell them to f*ck off without saying that exactly.

I waited a while, until other pool regulars (with whom I am friendly) came by and we chatted, I finished the next chapter of my book, and I reached my 3 hour pool limit (as if imposing a sun limit at this point in my life will stop me from getting skin cancer) just as a Bloody Mary was calling my name. And now I am off to my sister's to visit with my twin cousins who are in from California.

Thanks for letting me dump. Love you, B

Worldly Nonetheless

How funny!...I know it was, Amanda! I didn't mention it by name on purpose for various reasons. Anyway, I said it was your boys' favorite restaurant. All kids love Olive Garden!

Good luck getting everything done. I'm off to the beach with my sister L and her kids. Talk to you soon.

Dining

Ok, I just had to write quickly before heading to the gym...you mentioned the northwest wines and I started to feel all smart and worldly, proud as I am of my wine knowledge, until you said that you had taken us to our favorite Italian restaurant. It was freakin' Olive Garden!!!

I'm not leaving today - tomorrow - but have a list a mile long to complete before S's birthday dinner tonight. I'll check in later - and thanks for the early morning post!!
Love you, A

Vacations

Dear Amanda,

I must admit I had a little too much wine last night, so I wasn't in a hurry to get out of bed this morning. As I was lying there I started obsessing about when I visited last. By the time I got out of bed I had pieced most of it together...

I remembered some photos from the trip, most from Pike Place Market, the day we went downtown to Seattle. J took a half day and came with us, treated us to a schamncy dinner where you were all over the Pacific Northwest wines. (Have I told you, by the way, that Willamette Valley Vineyards Pinot Noir is my favorite? I love it! I also love that I am one of very few New Englanders who doesn't mispronounce Willamatte!) We met up with a couple of your friends and I dorked out when we passed the Watson and Crick Cafe, where we also snapped a few pics (that after all I did not end up showing students the following year).

I think you and I went to Portland for a day during that trip also, right? And I got that blue topaz ring in the bath shop near Powell's?...

Other than that I remember taking you and J and the boys to their favorite Italian restaurant and a movie. Oh, and being more constipated than I've ever been in my life. I was miserable. Remember? Ugh.

Anyway, I remembered everything but the year, so I got up and looked it up. 2003. Five years ago! Way too long...The summer after that I went to Europe, and the summer after that I started dating W. I haven't had a big summer trip since. (Clearly that's a topic that needs some exploration.)

I know you and J are off to California today, so I won't expect to hear too much from you for a couple of weeks, but I may keep plugging away. I also thought I might go visit my parents and get our old journals out of storage. How many do you think we filled? How many years do they cover? Maybe I'll drop a couple in the mail so you can have some to flip through too.

Have a great trip! Hello and hugs to everyone. Be safe. Love, B

PS When you get back we should also probably talk about this blog a little.
PPS Can you believe it? Years after retiring your Waterman and my Mont Blanc we're blogging. Go figure.

Dear Barb...Love, Amanda

Barb,

To hear your voice today was such a treat! After a solid week of party planning, partying, finishing school and getting the boys off to Grandma's, I felt like all I could manage was consecutive reruns of CSI while ironing an occasional shirt. What perfect timing that you should catch me in that moment, when I most needed to reconnect with a part of me that's been in hibernation for some time.

Yes, C has definitely become the young woman we hoped she would but could never quite imagine would emerge from the wreckage of her mother. At 24 she has managed to rise above her situation in a way that, at 44, I can only still dream of doing myself. She sometimes astounds me with her maturity (and simultaneously drains me with her drama - good lord, ALL of her friends are gay men and she wonders why she doesn't have a boyfriend???). She is so much more responsible and independent at her age than I ever was. I am proud and I know her Dad feels much relief at finally getting some clear feedback on all that he tried to do for her over the years. Does that make sense? Like we never knew if we were doing the right thing...then one day you wake up and go, "Yeah, I guess we were".

This gives me a tiny little spark of hope with M, as we talked about today. I look at his wacky self sometimes and think I couldn't possibly have f-ed up more than this - what monster have I created? How much longer before I have to pick him up from juvie? Will he bring an automatic weapon to school, and if so, will I be shocked to find that he has an entire arsenal under his bed that I was somehow completely aware of? And yet, there are moments when I catch his profile as he's driving (my car) in the seat next to me and I see that little five year old, funny and weird and quiet and safe...for a second I remember that he's still just a kid. And if I keep doing what I'm doing, maybe, just maybe, I'll sit there at his college graduation too and sigh a bit of relief myself. Hmm...

It's strange to write again - especially typing - how much things have changed. Thank you for this...I'm off to bed after my "date" at the ball game tonight which was quite nice - I'm such a cheap date! Hot dog and a beer and I'm happy as a clam! Love you, A

Dear Amanda...Love, Barb

Dear Amanda,
I can't believe C graduated from college! What a lovely young lady. ("Lovely young lady" ????When did I become your mother???) I always knew she'd transition from angry/distant stepdaughter to another one of us in your fan club. I'm glad you hung in there to see it happen....
Thanks so much for the invitation. I know you sent it knowing I couldn't make it, and I'm flattered that I'd still be on the invite list, but I'm also disappointed that I couldn't. I know we get snow days and summer vacations, but what I wouldn't give to be a normal grown-up who decides when, and why, to take days off.
Anyway, I assume you have the summer off, too, so maybe we can catch up. I mean REALLY catch up. I'm glad to know you're there and I'm still on your invite list but I miss you. And for whatever reason--or host of them-- this summer, more than others, I need to know what color nail polish you're wearing. Love you! Barb