Sunday, August 17, 2008

Oh my god, this is just like Christmas morning

Oh my, a fresh start is so damn refreshing, isn't it? Right after this, I am going to take off my tiara and jump in a nice bubble bath, while I listen to my kids screaming at each other just outside the window. It may not be as relaxing as I had hoped for, but I'll take what I can get.

Today is Sunday, and it is also bookclub day. Some background: I joined this bookclub when I first moved to the island, and it has been the most amazing source of comfort, encouragement, love and support. A few yers ago, these women spent almost an entire bookclub meeting discussing my relationship with my father, after he called at the beginning of the meeting. I freaked out when I saw his name on the caller ID, and handed the phone to another club member (Vickie, I owe you one) covering my ears and saying "I just can't do it. I just can't." That poor woman bravely answered the phone, bought me a few minutes to compose myself, passed the handset over to me and held my hand while I hyperventilated, then patted me on my back as I walked to my room to take the call - the first from my father in about 8 years. I cannot imagine a greater group of women then the one waiting for me at the end of that call.

They have thrown baby showers and bridal showers, delivered hot meals, traveled, photographed and otherwise shared many important moments in each oher's lives, and for that I am profoundly grateful. My favorite memory is 20 women packed into a living room during a rainstorm, cheering on my mom as she sang the new version of the ABC song on speaker phone from Rhode Island. These are really great women, and good friends. I won't be at the meeting today, but I will be thinking of them.

I started writing a piece today, and I got through the first few paragraphs before I stopped and sent it over to a mentor for some feedback. I am trying to work up the courage to send more of my writing out to publications, but for now I am mostly keeping it to myself and biding my time, re-reading, editing, and resaving it for later.

Those who followed my other blog will be glad to know that I returned that darn "snatch -n- turtle" book to the library - and I replaced it, unknowingly, with a story about a little girl in Harlem who's parents got divorced and who's grandmother died. Good LORD. Aren't there any stories about innocuous fairy godmothers and dreams coming true? I think we could maybe dial down the reality just A TOUCH in the picture books.

Well, it sounds like my children may actually be runing in the street. And while I know their beloved father is outside overseeing the madness, I think I may need to just stick my head out there and tell everyone to chill out.

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