jMcJohnson

Happy Birthday to the best husband a girl could ask for…I hope your next 30 years are just as great as the first.

PS-If you get sunburned playing your 36 holes of golf today, I will still be mad, even though it is your birthday

And yet, it always feel short, no matter how long I have to not-work. We hosted my sister and brother in law for part of the weekend, and then drove to Salina to celebrate Ryan and Carrie’s birthdays. It was a fun, weird, weekend full of happenings and non-happenings. I will post pics, maybe tomorrow, but for now, the highlights:
-We had the birthday party at the old Salina standby (and place where dreams go to die) the Paramount. It was good, but due to some extraneous circumstances, not what I expected, which caused me to melt down a bit and made me come to the realization that I am an only-child control freak. (Are you laughing? Did you always know? Did you try to tell me? Did I not listen? This sounds like me). I am gonna work on that. Seriously.

-I am going to stop saying “it is what it is.” It is a meaningless, stupid phrase that I suspect I may say a lot. Weak phrases! The horror!

-Ryan and I got hassled by some semi-threatening people outside my house at 3 AM on Monday morning…I’ll tell the whole story sometime, but it was very scary and made me think differently about Salina.

-I tried to help my dad’s g.f. with some internet and email stuff this weekend which made me really feel for people that did not grow up in the computer generation. It is frustrating, overwhelming, intimidating, and even kind of scary to have to learn this whole other language.

-There are no gifts good enough for the people you love truly with all your heart. Everything seems stupid, wrong or not thoughtful enough. I struggle with this every year. Help!

-Will I even tire of Mexican food? The answer is clearly a resounding NO.

So much to do…

-Recital week at work (= asspiles of extra work)
-Fancy party for our board member and major donors on Tuesday (zzzzzzz)
-Fancy luncheon fundraiser-thing on Thursday (AAACCCKK!)
-TWO Lovewell shows to finish editing by this weekend (because I am a boneheaded procrastinator)
-Adhere to vow to cook more and eat out less (tough because I am L to the AZY when I am busy with other things)
-B-day party to plan for next week (Yay! Fun! Must Hurry!)
-New Lovewell program to recruit for (we need 8-10 more kids in the next three weeks!! Egads!!)

How will I fit in all the loafing I need to do weekly to meet my quota? Hmmm…

I’m not really sure how to explain this. Every year or so, ever since I was a kid, I get this unexplainable urge to just draw on my face with makeup. Nothing prompts it, I just happen to look into my makeup bag before I take a shower one random night and think, “what would happen if I drew on my face with this stuff?” even though after all these years, I know the answer (my face will be covered in lipstick, eyeliner, etc and I will have to scrub off the top layer of my skin to remove it).

I even went all out this year and gave myself a nice little Errol Flynn pencil-thin mustache…that’s for you Scott Agin

Is this maybe the most bizarre personal habit you can think of? Can you beat this? Shall I dare you to?

I just did!

We went to Salina. As usual, stuff happened:

This is me after meeting my mom for mother’s day lunch.
(As the people of Salina look on)
ME: Mom, I’m gonna take your picture.
MOM: No, I’m taking your picture!
ME: Mom, put the camera down and let me take this pic-
MOM: TOO LATE!

Here’s the whole reason we went to S town…to get in line for Soul Preachers tickets.
No silly! To see Dunebuggy, the bastard child of JPP-minus that bastard Nathan Tysen (Ha! Clearly I kid!)

Before the rocking, we needed to carbo-load…at the chinese buffet. And yes, it’s true, we got Joe to eat Chinese food. All beige and brown Chinese food, but STILL! Chinese food!

Lance enjoyed himself at the Chinese buffet as well. He had a strange attraction to the little sugary donuts (ancient Chinese recipe) and these weird jelly covered bananas.

Finally, it was time for rocking.

This is part of a series I like to call, “Up, Down, Left, Right” Guess which one this one is?

…aaand at some point late in the evening, we all ended up in a limo. John was excited, but Jason and Ryan felt really uncomfortable because they had just kissed. AWKWARD!

After the limo, we ended up at the home of some very nice people (whose names I cannot recall) an then we walked home to my dad’s house at 4 AM.

The End.

I’d like to let go of other peoples’ opinions of me and who I am and what I am doing (or not doing) with my life.

I am working on looking to myself for approval and not to anyone else. It is so hard to not let others’ opinions at least partially define who you are. Some days, I am so proud of myself and happy with everything and other days I feel like I can’t do anything right. (I sound like my 17 year old self :))

It’s always easier (for everyone-myself included) to look at other people and pass judgement on them and feel like they are “broken” or not living up to their potential or need some kind of advice that only I can give-but that’s just all bullshit. It’s scary to evaluate yourself that way, so to distract ourselves, we just do it to other people. Especially the people closest to us.

There’s no one path to happiness. No “right way” to do anything. When we buy into that, we let someone else write the book of our life for us, and to me, that’s about the saddest thing I can imagine.

It’s wrong, and I’m really over it. Over doing it to other people and over having it done to me.

Work on yourself if you need a project.

Ryan and I have been working with a group of middle school kids in Kansas City, KS (if you are from here, you understand what that means; if not I will translate: CRAZY CHILDREN) for the past four months. We have been doing a sort of “mini-Lovewell” with them, and for the most part, honestly, it has been fairly brutal. They aren’t bad kids per say; they are just simultaneously buck wild and lazy. Is that even really possible? Umm…I guess everything is possible, so, yes, that’s what they are.

These kids didn’t sign up to work with us on creating a musical. Their parents signed them up to have a place to go on Wednesday afternoons, which are early-release days in the district. We started with 29 kids. Our show is next Wednesday. We are down to 13 kids. Some kids have been here every Wednesday. Some have been twice. Some have been twice and expect to be in our musical next week. How will that work? I really have no idea.

Today was an especially trying day; we had the usual which is:
-kids hitting each other
-kids cussing each other out
-kids walking off an leaving randomly
-kids talking CONSTANTLY
-kids asking to go to the restroom and being gone for a half an hour
-kids calling everything we do “wack”

But today was special. The kids pulled out all the stops today, their last full rehearsal day before the show. We had:
-TWO kids out of 13 that knew their lines (each kid has no more than (I SWEAR) maybe ten lines? In the ENTIRE show.
-One kid who is playing a lawyer that insisted that next week I bring him a suitcase.
Me: A suitcase? Do you mean a briefcase?
Kid: No, a suitcase. A lawyer suitcase.
Me: Oh. A LAWYER suitcase. How stupid of me!
-A kid who brought a camera and was swinging it around and hitting people with it and then blaming it on them when it subsequently would not work.
-A discussion about whether “ghetto talk” was appropriate for our show (because we have a couple of OG seventh graders)
-The kid playing the pizza man was deciding whether he should be mentally handicapped or Asian (I helpfully suggested NEITHER!)

Finally, near the end of the rehearsal of one of our musical numbers (there are about five); when the chatter and general chaos was reaching an all time high, when Ryan is trying to fix what’s wrong with the SONG and our choreographer is trying to fix the DANCE, and people are just generally acting like one-legged ADD ferrets on crack cocaine; one of the girls near the front of the stage (let’s call her Sally) raises her hand and asks (IN TOTAL SERIOUSNESS):

Sally: Miss Jamie?
Me: What Sally?
Sally: Is this a musical?
Me: ………..?!*$&^@%%#*@&%^$%

After hearing that, and feeling what was left of my soul leave my body and hover momentarily over the state of Kansas and hearing Satan, Jesus and every theatre teacher I’ve ever had EVER laugh at me, I realized that that one comment may be the most amazing thing I have ever heard after FOUR MONTHS of:
1. Writing a musical
2. Learning about musicals
3. Talking daily about our musical that we are working on
4. Constantly referring to “our musical”

What could I say? After I got up off the ground where I spontaneously passed out dead and all my hair fell out and caught fire, I simply answered:

Me: Yes. Yes Sally, this is a musical.
Sally: Oh, okay. That’s what I thought.

That’s what she thought.

Perfect. My work here is (almost) done.

I have so many friends who are pregnant right now that it naturally has me thinking. When will it be me? On one end of the spectrum, it can happen unexpectedly and then hey, there it is; happening despite your plans. On the other hand, you can wait and wait and finally decide “okay, it’s time” and then…it doesn’t happen. Maybe not for a while, maybe not ever. Maybe it happens when you are thirty, maybe it happens when you are 41. You just don’t know.

My biggest wonder is when will I (we) be ready. I know everyone says that if you wait until you’re ready you’ll never have a kid, and there’s really never a perfect time. But right now, we’ve got something going on together that’s pretty great. Just hard-won enough to actually feel like it means something. More now than ever. So the thought of getting a new, helpless roommate seems less than attractive. We still have so much we want to do (not that you can’t do things when you have a kid, but it just becomes…different). I really feel like even for being thirty, I still have a lot of growing up to do. And yet it’s this last bit of growing up that has me dragging my feet.

How can I be a mom? My mom was a mom. I remember her being my mom. I still feel very much like the kid in most situations. I feel kind of uncomfortable around adult professional people. I feel like “well, who wants my opinion, I’m just a kid, what do I know?” But the funny thing is…I’m NOT! I’m THIRTY YEARS OLD. I don’t feel old or anything, I just feel…like a kid.

I think a lot of this for me has to do with that natural inclination to model yourself after your own mom or your idea of what a mom is/should be. My mom had me when she was 29. My mom was gray haired by the time I was five. She stayed home with me until I went to school. She really had few friends. She stayed home. All the time. She was a great mom, but I just don’t see myself like that. Moms drive minivans and coo over poop and never have any time for themselves…right? (yes, I know this all only exists in my head). Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with being/wanting to be a mom. There’s also nothing in the world that says you have to be/act/dress any certain way to be a good mom. I know that in my mind. But my heart still feels…reluctant.

I don’t know, maybe when I break out of that mindset, it will feel less weird. The girls I know that are having (and have had) kids are smart, funny, creative, talented, etc., and still, they are procreating! They are not afraid! I will get there, I’m pretty sure…someday.