Mortality Banana

This is the reason why I am not a journalist. Uh, one of the many, I should say, other reasons include my inability to talk to strangers, my lack of tenacity, the fact that I will happily take no for an answer and that I hate things that are sad. Sad like the news. Also, I just typed 'hournalist'. Finally, my understanding is that the point of journalism is to convey important facts as clearly as possible whereas I favor recounting trivia as obscurely as ditto. In addition to all that I loathe feeling like I have to write about something specific. I would have been the cub reporter going, "Crime beat? Again? I don't feel like writing about crime today. I want to cover a butterfly story. And not killer butterflies this time either. Pretty ones."

I really don't know what was going on with that last post. I guess I was stalling because I felt obligated to clarify the ex-husband but then I realized that I was so ashamed of the whole thing that I didn't want to get into it. So I punted. Then I was shocked by my uncharacteristically soppy reaction to your comments but the sincerity of my response is one I don't feel up to expressing right now either. I am feeling breezy, not sincere.

So here I am stalling again.

But I suppose I might as well tell you about my gushy minor epiphany: As I read through your stories of stupidity and salaciousness and I found myself thinking, over and over again, aw, that poor little pumpkin. I never once thought you were a terrible person for doing x or y, or x and y on the same night. I thought you sounded young. Self-centered, maybe, but mostly insecure and just... fumbling. So many of the things you (aggregate) wrote resonated with me that I felt like a bell tower all weekend. The person who lamented not nurturing her female friendships as she poured tons of energy into chasing men; the one who has a hard time imagining how she is the same person who did so many pointlessly cruel things... for me it is not the recollection of years of self-destructive behavior that rankles so much as the laundry list of unkind acts. I struggle with the fact that I was so goddamned mean. Anyone can drink enough tequila before lunch that they throw up in a diner (right? *ahem* RIGHT?) but why was I such a bitch? It's not just that Andy and I should never have gotten married for about a million reasons starting with the fact that I did not particularly like him (even though he was very likable) it is the fact that I was a monster about it. It is one thing to initiate and foster a doomed relationship, it is another to taunt the person while you are doing so. Jeez.

But!

My point is that I read your stories and all I felt was understanding and compassion for the younger you; no matter what you had done. And then I realized, hey, what's the difference between immature rotten you and immature rotten me? And I don't think there is one. So for the first time in, like, a decade I was able to throw a little understanding and compassion my way. I am still embarrassed but I am willing to cut myself some slack. I was insecure. I was needy. I did really crappy things but I am sorry for it.

So.

When I was sixteen I met Gregg on a street corner. I was in high school and he went to Georgetown but after I dispatched the age gap (by lying) we started dating. I quite liked him (still do, actually. he and his lovely friend spent a night here last summer when they were in town) and although we broke up five seconds after I began college we kept in touch - he would send me odd notes written on Congressional stationery and great mix tapes; I would call him drunk at two in the morning. Then... we'll just have to skip most of my college career or we'll be here forever so let's leap ahead to the end of my junior year. After dating more or less everyone on the eastern seaboard, I fell trulymadlydeeply head over hangnails in love with Julian. B-I-G trembly siiiiiiiiiiigh. So that was nice because I was going to be happy forever; however, Julian had applied for the Peace Corps and when he was not scattering fistfuls of stardust in his wake he was waiting to hear from them. I knew that the Peace Corps was a once in a lifetime opportunity and something he really wanted to do. Naturally, I wished with all my heart and soul that they would reject him. Instead they sent him to Honduras in February of my senior year and I went into as Victorian a decline as ever any heroine has palely slumped. I wrote him long, tear-stained letters, gazed longingly at Central America in my atlas, drank Scotch in the absence of laudanum and cheated on him with casual yet persistent indifference. Yeah, I know. That last bit doesn't follow any romantic narrative convention I am familiar with either.

Meanwhile, Gregg had moved from DC to Chicago. I like this story. He and a friend wanted to leave Washington but were mostly impartial as to where they went. So they decided to leave it up to the NBA finals. If the Bulls won they would move to Chicago; if the Lakers won they would move to LA. The way I tell it they packed a small car with their worldly etc before going to a bar to watch game 7. When the Bulls won they left that night for Chicago. Gregg's version of the same story involves them going home and cancelling their phone service and filling out change of address cards for magazine subscriptions... I like mine better. So Gregg was living in Chicago and had acquired a roommate named Chris. One night (probably around 1 am - if there is anything I miss about being that young it is the fact that chronic insomnia becomes imperceptible) I called to talk to Gregg and got Chris instead. He seemed personable so we chatted. Then I few nights later I called again. Then he called me. Then I went to (of all things) an Easter brunch hosted by a friend of mine that started with Bloody Marys and a nice ham and ended with my getting on an airplane at 6 o'clock the following morning en route to Chicago. So Chris and I started dating. He came to visit me. I am pretty sure I went back to Chicago although I might not have. I know that right after I graduated college I spent a week with him at his parents' vacation house in West Palm, which was a lot of fun. I think he assumed we were involved. And we were. But I was also planning my long-awaited trip to go see Julian in Honduras.

As I am typing this I am wondering where on the earth I got the money to go zipping all over the country like a migratory bird. I don't remember much about this time but I am very clear on the fact that I was crushingly poor. I guess I, uh, relied on the kindness of boyfriends and also Visa's generous minimum payment due/maximum interest extracted terms. This is why when Steve paid off my loans and debts for my birthday one year it qualified as such a kingly gift. Because I spent years vacationing/living on credit and remember what I just said about that? Remember? Don't do it, that's what I said.

I'll pick up the rest of the Julian/dengue/Chris/law school/Andy/first marriage saga later. Now that you mention it there was a story about a lamp hidden on the roof (MY lamp that HE stole; for the record) and the cat who got its name changed in the divorce. I went back through my secret archives to see if I could find it but it must have been deleted during one of my Augean post-REDBOOK contract blog cleaning efforts. As an aside: Heather Armstrong notes that the one person you never under any circumstances want to read your blog will one day read your blog. I would like to add the corollary that even when you spend weeks combing through old blog posts in an effort to delete any evidence of passing bitchiness that only seven people read at the time and you are pretty sure you have succeeded someone will still read something they find to be offensive and be offended they will. So consider yourself warned (although I think what I am recommending is total blog abstinence - see how well this works for me?)

Anway, that post is gone otherwise I would cut and paste but I'll add it to the list of stories I owe you.

I have a new ad up for baby slings. One of my favorite baby gifts was a sling, which surprised me because I have no compunction about putting Baby down in a battery operated whatsits until his brain jiggles into jelly and I love strollers so much we own three of them. No, four. However, even with twins (maybe I should say especially with twins) I found it very nice to pop a baby against my chest and still use my hands like a normal, nonbabied person. Slings have become my new go-to baby gift (like vases for weddings - I love vases.) So I am pro-sling in general and pro-these-slings in particular because they are gorgeous. Seriously. I am a fabric junkie and I lust after nice textiles. And the ring things look cool. So go look.

I rooted out one of our largest puzzles (map of the world) over the weekend and set up a board that would enable us to move the puzzle-in-progress back and forth off the dining room table. I figured it would last Patrick as a nice summer vacation side project for a week at least. Maybe two. You follow my logic, right? Summer vacation, long days, six year old, need for lots of mini projects... so why on earth was my husband sitting there finishing Africa after Patrick had gone to bed? And why did he think I was crazy for taking the box of pieces away and hiding them until the kid woke up?

Honestly.

Just to give you an idea of how summer vacation is going so far:

Patrick was working on the puzzle after lunch. I had about a billion other things to do but I felt obligated to be, you know, all engaged so I said, "Hmmm, do you think this piece could be part of that white fish with the black stripes?"

Patrick says, "Actually, Mommy, that is a black fish with white stripes."

I wanted to smack him.       

I also enrolled him in emergency swimming camp yesterday after I took him to the Y over the weekend. In order to be able to go down the slide he has to be 48 inches tall (and he is. when his hair is dry. and sticking up. a lot) and he has to pass a test which involves being able to float on his back for ten seconds and then tread water for thirty. Before dragging the life guard away from all of her important life guarding I tested him myself. Floating was fine. He might float a little more convex than a purist likes to see but he floated. Then I asked him to tread water and he sank like a chest full of gold dubloons. Five YEARS of swimming lessons (granted, and to his credit, he's been in nothing deeper than a bathtub in the past nine months) but still the child went down faster than the Edmund Fitzgerald. Oh the humanity. I called the swimming-only swim place first thing Monday and got him started on two weeks worth of lessons - stat. We've talked about choking. We've talked about skin cancer. Have we discussed drowning? Well, that's on my list too. I was encouraged to see that he actually could swim about three seconds into his lessons but one can always swim better so I figure it is time and money well spent regardless.

When in doubt, end with a music video (Edward? slays me. bookish sure but he still knows how to say yes yes this rocks)

 

Comments

[Erinn]

ummm.... what about the rest of your first marriage story??
stalling...

E

[Carrie]

Those babies are sooo freakin' cute. I love Edward moving to the beat.

[marion]

I, for one, far prefer your version of how Gregg and his friend came to move to Chicago, except that I would throw in one small nitpick: The Lakers-Bulls Finals only lasted for five games. The Bulls lost the first one, and then proceeded to mow down the Lakers in four straight games. So, you might want to tweak your story slightly to mention that they packed their car before going to see Game 5 in a bar.

Your babies -- excuse me, TODDLERS -- are adorable.

[Beth]

My head is spinning. And the sprouts are darling, yes. But I want the rest of the story.

Please.

[Karen]

This cracked me up. I love the dance recital, with Edward reading.

The only reason I didn't post my most stupid thing on the last post is I'm still choosing. I even called my mother but she couldn't pick just one either. You aren't the only one who can stall.

Your son Patrick reminds me so much of my son Tom. So of course I was telling him that, now that he's home from college (yikes, Patrick reminds me of Tom a very, very long time ago), and I showed him the sentence about translucent, imaginative, carbon. He paused, smiled at me and said, "well that's crystal of course. Unless it's a diamond, but that's not imaginative, crystal is imaginative." So um, yeah, there you have it. Tom says Patrick was thinking of crystal.

[Nony Mouse]

Ooh, I remember the lamp story (and I'm sure I'm not the only one.) At least I remember what your ex- told you happened to the lamp, how you and the other person ended up on the roof, and what you thought of your ex- when you saw it. I hope all your posts have been saved somewhere, your writing is far too good to be deleted willy-nilly, missy!

[Jan]

um evasive. but whatever.

[Paz]

crap Julia, I am going away for days and likely won't be able to log on. Would you have mercy and post the rest of the story before 9am EST Wed am? Perty pleeeasssse. You will? My that is kind and certainly offsets years of sin...if one had such a history.

[Joanne]

Three cheers for mentioning the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald! I don't support ships or children sinking - Just love the song .. and Gordon Lightfoot.

[Julia]

I WILL FINISH THE STORY. I swear it. Don't be mad at me, it stresses me out. But if I had tried to get all the way through today it... well, it just would not have happened, is all.

But would you care to hear me sing something?

Pussywillows, cattails, soft winds and roooooses.....

[Taryn]

I love that Caroline moved with the beat to the second song!

[Not My Mother]

Could never be mad at you Julia! You mentioned your post-redbook purge and it does explain something... a while back I was going through a really boring frustrating time at work and started rereading your archives (because you just weren't posting damn near quick enough to make my days better), and I could have SWORN there were bits missing... now all becomes clear! I've not been imagining stuff!

[Carla Hinkle]

Moooore story! Moooore story! (pretty pretty please!)

I love love love your wandering, sidetracked blog entries. Like no other on all the Internets.

So please more story!

[Gina]

I use the word "actually" quite a bit.

My 2.5 year old has picked up on this and now goes around the house saying things like, "Actually, mama we need some whipped cream on our brownies." It's mostly cute, but also a bit obnoxious at times when he "corrects" me.

[Ruth]

Love not only Edward bopping along to the beat, but Caroline doing the hand motions along with "Itsy Bitsy Spider".

[Cookie]

Anxiously waiting the rest of this story. And the video, super cute, as always.

BTW, why did you do a Post-Redbook purge? Was it a requirement?

[Missie]

Besides the extreme cuteness of the twins, the thing that strikes me in the video is the footie PJ's. In June. I love the cold and all, but clearly, I am not meant for Minnesota!

[Penny]

Oh I am so relieved I didn't make up details of your life. So it was a lamp and not a plant. That's less wrong than I expected of my memory.

I don't mind the staccato nature of the story. If you tried to squeeze it in in one write, it'd be too short. And I prefer my good stories long. With the built-in pauses, I can also be a productive member of society in the mean time.

Man I'm such a darn cheerleader. Who'd ever think I had that in me?

[L]

I, too, wait for the rest of the story, if only to validate my own youthful transgressions. Ergh. To be 23 again, with the knowledge that I have now at 40...

[Maria]

No, no. You finish the story in your good time. There are things I think of that I did when I was in my 20s that I don't think I could ever re-tell in great detail. It's PAINFUL, even when you do cut yourself some slack!
I read a psychologist commenting about Facebook in an article about people connecting with old high school sweethearts(this is related, I swear). He said that those head-rushy, angst-ridden feelings we had back then are deep-seeded in our long-term memory (or something--my neuro-knowledge is like your biology). You feel like you're in high school again when you get on FB because you dredge up all that stuff.
Well, 23 is not THAT far away from high school. It's bound to dredge up stuff. And who wants to feel that way AND have to deal with black-and-white-fish people, too, all in the same day?
This is my long-winded way of saying: tell that story in your own due time. Or don't.

[Penny]

I needed to come back to say that yes, I would like to see a music video of you singing.

What? You didn't offer that in your comment? 'cause that's what it looks like to me.

[jen]

that video was a-w-e-s-o-m-e!

[sheilah]

Ahhh...you purged! That explains why when I googled something on your webpage trying to find the ex story (can't remember what I put in the browser), it brought up a cached page but when I tried to navigate to the page it said the page didn't exist.

Hmmm...the ex-husband is Andy and so far we have had Chris, Gregg and Julian. My you were busy!

[Kristin]

The video was adorable.

I am so glad you were finally able to cut your young self some slack.

[Cat]

There are so many times that I read your blog and think to myself "thank god I wasn't the only one to do that in my younger years", as all of my adult friends would abhor if I mentioned any of my past to them. You have always been one of my favorite blogs to read, (recurrent miscarriage similarity and all, though substitute Navy for Peace Corp), but, this post...Well this post, makes me conclude only one thought.

I heart you.

Can't. wait. for. more.

[Pam L]

Awwww CUTE! Love that rockin twosome!

Don't feel stressed, people will always ask you for more. Write what and when you want.

Drowning is my # 1. I had a sister who I never met, who drowned in a river in the winter. She was 5 and her little friend was 3. So sad. I can't imagine a more horrible thing myself, and I've SEEN all the CSI and the myriad of other forensic shows. My kids were taught to swim by us and swimming lessons until I was sure they could survive if necessary. One took to it like a fish and got his swimming and lifesaving certificates, the other, not so much, but he can swim if he has to. One time he fell into a pond and started floundering around about 3 feet away from me on the pier. I calmly said, "Adam, you can swim" and he went "Oh Yeah" and he did. I was fully prepared to jump in if I had to but it was a yucky pond, so I was happy I didn't have to.

[Pam L]

Oh yeah, sorry, about the puzzles. We are so competitive about puzzles, or is it just zealous, that my younger one, Paul, has been caught hiding one piece so he can be the one to put the last piece in. Poor form ! we all shouted. They are addicting though, but more fun if you don't finish them in one night.

[shriek house]

Honestly, I will read anything you write, but please don't ever feel like you need to justify or explain your life choices here, or even share the bits you'd rather not. We readers may clamor for More! a bit selfishly but after all this is your space to do as you please.

The video is charming, I'd say the twins are ready for their first arena rock show, ear protection withstanding, of course.

Thank you for the Edmund Fitz reference, I shall now have to go put on that deliciously mournful Gordon Lightfoot song about same.

[Jessica]

You've given us so many intimate details about your life, please don't feel like you owe us anything more.Tell the story if/when you feel up to it. I will always read anything you write, whether it be a rambling post that's all over the place (those are my fave), or a specific tale from your sordid past. :)

Just also want to say thanks for making me smile!

[victoria]

(1) You really don't owe us any more details, but (2) oh, my God, how I love hearing about your fascinating life and (3) I am so in awe of all your youthful adventures and (4) so, so, so sorry that I was judgmental of your 23 y.o. peccadilloes! How dare I? (Especially since you were just a baby at the time.) Goodness, it's one thing to be a little romantically reckless in one's late adolescence, and quite another to be smug and judgmental in one's middle age.

[Becky]

*sighs*

I'm glad that you were able to forgive the Young You. That's so important and so fracking hard to do.

[Name Is Required!]

When are you gonna tell us about all the STDs you caught and how all the partying affected your GPA? You know, like a moral of the story? 'Cause otherwise it sounds like you just had a lot of fun.

[Deanna]

Wait. Did you just stop in the middle of that intriguing story so you could tell us about baby slings?!?

You are such a chicken!

[elfini]

I watched that video 3 times. Babies kill me.

[anon]

Ah, forgiveness. It makes us better human beings, even -- or especially -- when it is directed towards ourselves. Both living and learning are essential ingredients in perspective. If you don't live, and you don't learn, well, how can you be compassionate and wise in your later years?

(Said as the 38 year old with scads of embarrassing skeletulle in my past -- truly, enough to outfit an army of drag queens -- but also a much larger heart and smarter head as a result.)

[Kate]

Your last post and the comments were as cathartic for me as 6 months in therapy. Actually more because I've been to therapy and it didn't give me the wonderful perspective that all that sharing did. Thank you.

[Cee]

I am in awe of all your adventures in your twenties. I wish I had adventures. Side note, I love that Caroline (do you ever call her Carrie? just wondering) did the Itsy Bitsy Spider motions with the song.

[Holly W.]

Gods, I just love your blog.

[erin]

Some days I think, "Gosh, I don't think I will have children" and then I see a video like that and think, "MUST HAVE CHILDREN." Too funny and too cute.

[Laurie A]

Hey Holly W, was that a reference to Battlestar?! We so miss that show in my house even though the Galactica preview looked intriguing.

Julia, I loved reading your last post and the ensuing comments. I lead such a boring, staid life that I get jealous reading the risks others took and the thrills they experienced. Look at the relaying of your story this way: you're doing a favor to those of us who are living vicariously through you.

[Cris]

Wow. The initiate, foster and taunt relationship bit really hit home. Only I'm still in it. Yikes.

[merseydotes]

Julia, you and Patrick need a puzzle roll up! I just finished a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle I have been working on, off and on, for two years. You do the puzzle on the felt and then roll the felt around a large cardboard tube and secure it with velcro straps. Presto! The puzzle is now about the size of a few rolls of wrapping paper and your progress isn't lost in the least. So you don't have to commit a whole table to it or worry about moving a large board from place to place. Something like this: http://www.fatbraintoys.com/toy_companies/masterpieces_puzzle_company/jumbo_puzzle_roll_up.cfm

[Dara]

Please Julia, can we have some more?

The story and the children and all your wondrous writing.

[Rhonda]

Edward slays me as well. Thanks for sharing the video.

[Zara]

My ex from 2005 just resurfaced and is dating someone I sort of know. I have been really discomforted by how much it bothers me. What bothers me is that now she KNOWS BAD STUFF ABOUT ME which will get back to my current social circle.

I was really horrible to him and I can't find a way of making it tally with the sort of person I am now or the kind of behaviour I find acceptable.

Your posts are helping me a lot. You don't have to finish the story to be telling a great one.

[Pam L]

Zara, it does no good to worry about what the ex will tell the new girl. My step-son, at 38, is on his 4th serious relationship/2nd marriage and I have to bite my tongue when the latest tells me what a witch his first wife was. She is not, and they know nothing about his antics, obviously, especially how he always started a new fling before ending the previous. They all think HE's the saint! But he can spin it and it's not my place to burst their bubbles, and I am just the step-mom.

[Kristine]

I feel compelled to tell you that I have been reading for so long that I remember the story with the first husband and the lamp. And the cat. Vaguely.

And? That video is adorable.

[winecat]

That video rocked! I can see Edward in his English department office reading and rocking out. Caroline's itsy bitsy spider TCFW.

But yes um, hum some of the story that started the post seem to have disappeared by the end of it.

[AussieAndrea]

ARGH... leave us hanging?? Noooooooooooooooo

[Meganann]

oh my goodness, DENGUE? I lived in Minnesota, got married at 23 and got dengue fever too! Life is full of improbable parallels. Dengue hurts, man oh man, it hurts. Please tell that part of the story because I know only one other person who has had that and it's kind of amazing to hear that you have. I hope Julian (I'm assuming Honduras) was a good nurse.

I must second, or fifty-sixth at this point, the request for more story because though your children are adorable and I have loved Patrick since you started writing about his giant brain--who knew that you had such an interesting past? You've been holding out on us my dear!