Monday, February 11, 2013

First Person Ever to Use Storm Metaphors

MEGASTAHM 2013 lived up to the hype, and flipped the bird at my weekend. We were safe and warm and never lost power. We had plenty of food and running water. I have nothing to complain about. But I will, a little. I was unable to give myself over and find much to enjoy about it, which is rare for my Pollyanna ass. But I couldn't find the beauty and romanticism in the endless snow because HR somehow came down with another cold, which wrecked his sleep and cast a pall over his demeanor, and because the downside of us living within walking distance from Mike's weekend gig parlayed into him working Friday AND Saturday AND Sunday AND Sunday night and in the meantime had to leave early to allow for time and when he wasn't working or going to or from work, he was shoveling. So it sucked for us because we didn't see him (he doesn't get out until we're asleep), and it sucked for him because it's just too much for one dude. But it was just a couple of days, and it's behind us now. I sincerely hope that Mike and HR get a huge family nap today, I'm just sorry I won't be able to join. It's good for me to get out of the house, however.

For the record my constant companion of the weekend was still mostly the bomb, despite the fallout from feeling yucky and not understanding why ("Mama, I don't like being sick," he said, rubbing his snotty nose on my shoulder). Part of me feels I went and jinxed myself by writing that glowing review of the state of the family last week, but then I remembered that, oh yeah, it's always going to be like this. Kids are a roller coaster, I just have to keep that in mind on the stomach-churning parts, and feel glad the restraints haven't failed yet.

Another thing: and it's no shocker why, I've been really feeling my mortality these days, in odd ways. Like, I'll be watching Enlightened and get really sad because Laura Dern and Dermot Mulroney are not young anymore. I think they are actually both gorgeous, even more beautiful and interesting to look at than when they were new on the scene, but I keep thinking to myself, "Remember when they were the fresh young actors?" I do. So seeing them age means I'm aging and it's all crazy. We've been on a Muppets kick with HR these days, he's loving the fantasy babies segment from The Muppets Take Manhattan. This morning as I was heading into the shower I heard Mike queuing up the wedding scene from that movie, and there's one little part that always resonated with me, even as a kid, when the baby muppets at the wedding sing, "Days go passing into years," then the very elderly muppets beside them sing, "Years go passing day by day" in those creaky old voices and it's enough to make the most aging-positive person (me, usually) go dark blue.

Here, bawl see for yourself (the blubbering starts at :53).

It's safe to say Nemo collided with Emo for me. Commence shoveling out.

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