Dusting Is Fun

Maya's basketball season has started at school. After practice, after all the drills and running are done, Maya, and a couple of the girls and some of the coaches want to play a fun game of Knock Out. Knock Out is when anyone who wants to play lines up at the free throw line. The first two in line have basketballs; the first shoots but if she misses and the second player then makes it, guess what? The first is knocked out. Last week, I showed up before Knock Out and Maya begged for me to play with them. One of the main coaches mumbled to another coach, "Yo, Maya's mom can ball," which he knows because we went to high school together. And secretly I was all pumped that my legendary basketball skills were not just tales that I tell in the most longing of ways. So Maya begs and I'm standing there in jeans and flip flops and a nice sweater and shirt. Another coach says, "Naw, Maya. Your mom wants to go. We'll play next week." Maya ignores this and says, "Mami, seriously? You don't want to play Knock Out?" And I take off my purse, walk to the free throw line and say, "Run it." Mina stands in front of me and I let her take a few shots before I knock her butt out. The coach I went to high school with, Shamel, says, "Dang, just knock out your own child." I said, "She shoulda made it." Then I proceed to knock out everybody, Maya, players, coaches. Shamel slaps my hand on the way out. "You still got it, girl," he says. I feel a little like a meat head, all pumping my fists and strutting around, beating children at basketball, though there were grown-men coaches playing too. Next I'll be arm wrestling Lupe and kickboxing infants. 

Tout-a-lu!

 I want to tell you guys that out of all the kids in Maya's middle school, she was voted Most Environmentally Friendly! Isn't that sick? I find that so impressive. In this conscientious time, in the this conscientious town? She's it! Maya's building a rocket in science class right now. They're using all kinds of household materials: a soda bottle, a ping pong ball and something called a Toutalu. I asked Maya what a Toutalu was. She said, "That's what my teacher calls a paper towel tube 'cause when you're holding one you always want to put your mouth to it and yell, 'Tout-ta-too!'" I laughed hard over that one. 

I Flew to Arizona Yesterday

I had a 6am flight yesterday for a quarterly meeting at the Big Client's office in Arizona. I stressed myself out about waking up at 4:15, but mainly I was a little nervous about flying - again. I had spent twelve hours telling myself flying is no big deal. Pff. It's the take off, mainly, isn't it? And the landing? Oh and any turbulence in between. So, the take off was ok. I tried to read through it, but found myself putting the paper down and burrowing deeply into my mind; snuggling as far down as possible. While escaping the surface thoughts, it's interesting what I came up with. In the brief ten minutes I was mentally deep-sea diving, I managed to come up with a clear-cut family budget revision and a three-year life plan. The rest of the flight was uneventful though I did have the where-with-all to WRITE down the plan my mind had just handed to me. For the flight home, I walked onto the plane confidently. I told myself that there was no need to freak out about the take off. I'm fine. Which kinda worked. Until we hit some turbulence on the initial decent into LA an hour later. I was sitting in the aisle seat next to two big young men possibly on their way to a Laker game. When the turbulence hit -- a nice initial jolt, then more -- I reactively kicked the guy in the middle. His friend at the window seat jarred awake and grabbed the middle guy's arm. We had made him into a turbulence sandwich of our fear. The middle guy joked to his friend, "Dang, man, why are you screaming?" The Window Guy looked at me and said, "I didn't scream, did I? Tell me I didn't scream." I smiled, "No. And sorry I kicked you, Middle Guy." I spent the last 15 minutes of the flight mentally screaming for the plane to get me home. It took a lot of restraint not to let it slip from my lips. The moment we landed, Husband text me, "Are you Ok baby?" Which I thought was generously sweet until he text: "You didn't hear about the plane that went down in NY, did you?" Uh no. I hadn't. I may still be in Arizona now if I had. Hey, guess what I bought and sold at work today? Crime-scene evidence bags. Mmmhmm, the kind you put shell casings and pubic hair in. Rob said, "I wonder if they want us to source fingernails and semen with these?" Why did we buy and sell these bags? We don't ask. 

Come Hither My Good Friend, Hope

I saw the Come Hither quote on this artist's great print. I keep meaning to ask him if this is his original quote. That way there will be no weird legal issues when I get it tattooed on my chest. I'm only sorta kidding . . .

Bonjour 2009!

I love Christmas. I really do. But the second it's over I want to tear down all reminders of it. I want everything packed and stored by New Years. Christmas was so 2008. It's time to be refreshed now; lit anew with my constant and warm-hearted companion, Hope. Be gone bullshit of 2008. Be gone self-inflicted bullshit of 2008 (and many years past). And come hither all possibilities that await just on my fingertips and outside of my comfort zone. I said hither, damnit.

Last year my big psychological resolution was To Finish What I Start, and looking back I didn't finish many things (I did finish some big things though), but somehow I feel I'm able to check that resolution off. I think renewing the confidence that I can finish what I start makes me feel self satisfied about it, and confident about future endeavors. This year's psychological resolution is: Bask In Contentedness. This wave of complete satisfaction in myself and my life crashed over me recently and I feel . . . free. I am happy. I want to hone the feeling this year. I did have one tussle with this contentedness when I confused it with complacency. But I realized that just because I'm content doesn't mean I don't dream or don't strive, right? The contendedness allows you to make the process of striving the important part. Listen, most of us tell ourselves these words over and over: Enjoy the journey, love the process, something about the Now -- and I think telling ourselves this eventually becomes practice and the practice finally becomes natural, unconscious. And then all of the sudden, you love it all. It's all perfect. Who and what and where, it's all right. I'm rolling around in this feeling; making content angels with flailing arms and legs. I'm basking, y'all.

I have a list of other resolutions that are too embarrassing to share. Stuff ranging from athletic goals to standing up straight. Winning the lottery made this year's list again.

We went out last night, which we hadn't done in many years. Of the twelve years we've been together, last night was only the third or forth time Husband and I have gone out on New Years Eve. The girls are living it up in Las Vegas with BD & Sanne, so Husband and I got dolled up and went to dinner with Molly & John and a couple of their friends. We stayed at the restaurant well past midnight (with only a few yawns between us!), and had a really great time.

I bought this dress a couple days ago. It was price-slashed by 70%! And I gotta say, I felt like a billion bucks in it last night. (Look at Lupe yawning on the chair. She don't care about my dress!)Could he be more handsome? Hey Papi, I got your come hither . . .John & Molly laughing in the new year. Are there better pictures than this? I don't think so.Stay awake John! Man, they're cute together.Midnight on the nose, on the lips.This is the look of basking. Here's to washing myself in 2009.
Happy New Year Friends & Family!