I had a lot of living to do.

This blog has been quiet for a few weeks.
 Don't worry -my life has been anything but.

And amidst all the chaos and excitement, I did something I haven't done in a long time: I unplugged.

I left my phone in my purse, I didn't check my email, I slept when I was tired and ate when I was hungry and spent long lazy days sitting in the sunshine and riding bikes and hunting for sea glass and jingle shells and horse shoe crabs. I watched hours of derby, ate at least a pound of chocolate, wore a pink flannel vagina suit to MC an awards ceremony, rocked a face tattoo, attended class in a sequined tuxedo, driven a bitchin Camaro down the Vegas strip, and been motorboated by an 80 year old - and that all just happened in the last 3 days. By any measure, it has been a perfect vacation, and exactly what I needed. I was reminded of how important it is to step away and actually live the life you are blogging about every once in a while. I took a few pictures - but not many. I spent most of my time just being present for my friends and family, and for myself. Every so often I would pick up my phone and inevitably I would have to put it down because I was laughing too hard (or running too fast) to document what was going on. And even at quiet moments when I have a chance to sit down and open up the laptop, I am finding it really hard to start writing about what I've been up to. Sometimes it seems too private, sometimes too boring and sometimes too embarrassing to recount. The days are rolling by and I am just rolling with them.

(But that vagina suit was fucking AMAZING. I really suggest you bookmark this site or follow me on facebook or something - because if I remember even half of this stuff correctly, the photos are going to be ridiculous. Though I have to admit that I am hard-pressed to remember - never mind explain - what has transpired. God knows I'll do my best.)

After 10 hours of flights and some fairly unpleasant hours spent sobering up in tight quarters with re-circulated air and minimal access to water, we drove to my mom's house from the airport late last night - racing south on I-95 (adhering to all posted speed limits, of course) under an almost-full moon and clear skies, singing along to the radio with Sam's hand on my knee. Even at 2am when we were tired and filthy and wearing yesterday's clothes, it felt good to be driving the familiar roads, to be heading back to my kids, to have another week of vacation stretching out before us to spend together as a family. I was relaxed and reflective, and I have a lot to reflect on from the past few weeks.

Three weeks ago my nephew was born. My first nephew is a healthy, handsome boy and I had the distinct pleasure of bringing him and his awesome mama home from the hospital, because his father - my younger brother - was at Comic-Con.

I told you his mama was awesome.

Because really, let's be honest. I can't think of another woman who would be totally cool with her husband jetting off to work Comic-Con 3 days after she had a c-section. My brother and I both clearly scored big time with our respective spouses.

His lets him go off to party with a bunch of folks wearing cartoon t-shirts while she is still in the maternity wing of the hospital.

Mine just spent 4 days with me in Las Vegas. Nary a cartoon t-shirt to be found in this crowd:

Actually, we were remarkably short on shirts in general. And pants. But we were totally covered in the masks and capes department. We were at Rollercon, and trust me - there will be more on that later.

But the birth of my nephew, and a high-speed 2am drive home from Rollercon were just bookends for things that happened in the past few weeks that totally blew my mind.

For example: 2 weeks ago I saw a friend I hadn't seen in 20 years. 20 years is a long time.

20 years is enough years that when she knocked on the door and my cousin answered, she wasn't 100% sure if it was me or not.
20 years is enough years that, after finishing the first bottle of wine, we went out and bought a pack of cigarettes to smoke with the second bottle.
20 years is enough years that we had to catch up on my first AND my second marriage.
And most importantly, 20 years is enough years that we were able to laugh about shit that was definitely NOT FUCKING FUNNY in high school.

That one evening was so cathartic. It healed at least 20 years of regrets, for starters.

I would never advocate attending your 20th high school reunion - because who really wants to accept that they graduated from high school more than half a lifetime ago? I mean really? I remember my MOM'S 20th high school reunion. And I certainly have no interest in eating crappy banquet food, drinking at an over-priced cash bar, and revisiting at a hotel that I certainly never had sex in 20 years ago (hi mom!) NOT THIS GIRL. But I have to really strongly encourage everyone in this age of facebook and Linked In and whatever other networking crap is out there, to go find someone from high school - someone that you liked and admired - and call them up. Go have a drink. Bring some photos. Take some photos. But spend the time together actually talking and connecting and being present in the moment. They will remember things very differently, I assure you. And they will recount with chilling detail life-changing events that are forever burned in their brain that you cannot remember at all.

And it has absolutely nothing to do with that second bottle of wine. Probably.

So stay tuned for photos, and a very special edition of "What's in my bag: The Rollercon Edition" which is vaguely like Mighty Closet but with hotpants, sequins, and pasties. What happens in Vegas is currently jammed in the trunk of my car, but I'll have to deal with it eventually.