Forward

For me, the New Year has always been an exciting time. It is not, nor has it ever been about the excitement leading up to the New Year, the parties on the eve, the champagne, the countdown to midnight.

For me, the excitement begins the morning of January 1.

A new year.
An opportunity to do things differently.
Moving forward with a kind of clean slate.
Moving forward to challenge yourself to live your best life. (urgh, I sound like Oprah)

Although there is nothing that precludes us from making any ole' day a new beginning, there is something about the turn of the calendar year that makes promises to oneself inevitable.

The excitement of moving forward.

It is quite serendipitous that I would have not one, but two of my dearest friends moving forward in this year, at warp speed. Ushering it in with major life changes.

Both involving the demise of once-believed forevers.
Commitments unraveled, lies revealed.

For one, it is planned
The other, the biggest shock of life-to-date
For both, the best.

They are not your ordinary souls. No sir.
They are strong, powerful, loyal, intelligent, funny.
I am proud to call them each 'friend'.

I think of them meeting, briefly, years ago. Sharing good wine and many laughs on that snowy long ago December day, their shared future experiences nary a flicker of a thought.

Tonight, I think of them both. Moving forward to a new year, a new 'you'.

One thousand miles apart
Connected more than could know

Embracing the reality
Transforming it to opportunity
Moving forward, forward, forward.

Drive-bys

Some fifteen years ago, it was a common practice for my girlfriends and me to gather together on a Friday or Saturday night and do all that you may think any teenage girl would do; gossip, giggle, laugh, dream and of course, talk about boys. However, what inevitably closed these light-hearted, youthful evenings was something far more sinister.

Something my friends and I were sure to do at least once in those long-ago evenings.

Something sixteen-year old girls are still doing today.

Something that I can remember, still see, hear and smell in a dusty part of my now 30-something mind.

It was (is) of course,

The drive-by.

If you have done one, no explanation is needed.
For those needing clarification, I am happy to oblige.
A drive-by occurs when one strategically and purposefully passes themselves by the location(s) wherein an interested party is believed to be. The object is to collect information on the activities of said target (at the very least to confirm their location) without being seen.

For me and my best drive-by accomplice, a now successful corporate marketing director who shall remain nameless, a successful drive-by always involved the following:

1.) turning off your headlights---no sense in announcing your arrival
2.) turning off your radio -- not that they would hear our LL Cool J or Boys 2 Men, but in our hopes of hearing all of the party action inside
3.) driving very slowly, taking note of any 'suspicious' cars parked in lots or driveways..or any bodies moving in, out or around targeted boyfriend's location.
4.) Lincoln

I am sure each ritual is different. Different based on your accomplice, your target, your mode of transportation.

Some of those drive-by accomplices are still dear friends of mine today. Others I haven't heard from in a decade. One thing is common with both..though we don't talk about those late nights, in the early 1990's scheming and spying on the boys we would kiss and dance and laugh with (Or maybe just wanted to), it will forever be part of us and our collective sixteenth year.

It recently occurred to me that we continue our drive-bys today, though not in a white LeBaron or a tan Omega, but in the comfort of our homes. In our cozy chairs, at any time of the day. With children laughing or music blaring...early morning or in the middle of a sleepless night.

The modern day drive-by, for people of a certain age, is done on the internet. Through blogs and my spaces and on-line photo albums. Where those boys of the past-along with their new wives- are sharing their worlds for all to see. Where one-time sixteen year olds, now lawyers, mothers, and business leaders can revisit their past, now with more advanced (but not nearly as fun) reconnaissance techniques.

Of course, like the original drive-by, it is less fun if they know you're driving by.

Thankfully, technology isn't quite there yet.

Until then,

Drive on, friends.

Maxie's pad

Upon a brief visit with my 94 year old Great-Aunt Maxie today, I decided I would like to create a book of wisdom for my daughters. A lovely gift for them upon reaching a certain age.

Advice from women I love. Women who may, or may not be on this earth when my girls become women and such advice becomes beneficial. I would collect sentiment on many a topic. Including but not limited to:
life
love
friendship
loss
regrets
missed opportunities
life lessons
beauty
smarts
cooking

I should send Aunt Maxie a notepad and ask her to scribe as much as her fraigle hands can muster. Something I wish I had done with her sissy, my grandmother. Of course, this grand notion of sending requests along with paper, instructions and return (postage paid) envelope, will likely not materialize.. .I suppose I should include a topic on procrastination.

Working 9-5 and 5-9 and 9-5 again

So maybe a blog isn't the best idea for me. I mean, in theory it is really exciting and fun. In reality, it is near impossible as I am juggling life with 1 preschooler, 1 toddler, and an infant. Oh, and I work part time.
Hmm....

Me too, Iguana.

I feel like I'm five again. My friend has a blog and I want one too. Sure, I know this is illogical. I tell my own children just what my mother told me. "Just because your friend has [fill in the blank], does not mean you should have [fill in the blank]", or some variation of that statement.
But it is true.
I think it would be fun to have a blog.

As a kid, I had these wonderful books...they were called "Sweet Pickles". Do you know them? The Sweet Pickles series featured some sort of life lesson taught by members of the animal kingdom. One of the books spoke to the idea that we are all individuals and do not need to copy other people. It was called "Me, too Iguana". I can see the cover in my mind's eye, and clearly remember that leachy iguana who, in failing to develop her own identity, tried to be like the others. (Not the LOST kind of others, just other people, I mean.) Anyway, I kind of feel like Iguana leaching of off Saara's cool idea to have herself a blog.

Perhaps I should make a case for myself.
Allow me to try.

First, I often find myself narrating my day, thinking in a strange kind of third person narrative.
As though I am a spectator to my own life. I have done this for years and years.
Since I think this way, perhaps transferring my thought to pen (well, keyboard) makes sense.

Second, I need to find myself a computer-based preoccupation that will help me wean myself from the beginnings of a potentially harmful e-bay obsession.

Third, I have some e-savvy friends who would probably read my blog. At least occassionally. Or out of pity.
Hmm...

Yes, I believe I have made a case for my blog.

Further, I think maybe I have wanted a blog all along and just not known it.

What do iguanas know anyway?