Movin' On Up

My mom grew up in a house her parents built when she was in elementary school. It was across the street from the house in which my grandfather grew up. My dad moved from Mississippi to Alabama when he was young, but can drive you by his childhood home with no problem.

That game you play where you take your pet's name and the name of the street on which you grew up? Yeah, that one is kind of hard. I usually use the name of the road we lived on for 7 years. That's the longest I've ever lived in one place.

Not that anybody cares, but to the best of my recollection, here's a rundown of where my parents have lived since they got married:

1. small town Georgia #1. I've never heard them talk about their living situation in the first town in which they lived. They got married 3 days before my mother's 19th birthday. All I've ever heard them discuss is how they visited my grandparents quite frequently--to eat!

2. They moved to Hometown the following year. I think the first home they owned was a mobile home. I know they brought my sister home to their trailer in the trailer park where the Piggly Wiggly now stands. I think this was after my mom backed into it and knocked it off its foundation one morning while my dad was still sleeping. She went on to work.

3. At some point before I was born, they bought a house--I believe it was on Azalea Drive. This was were they lived when I came home from the hospital and it backed up to my friend Allyson's parents' house. Unfortunately, we moved before we were old enough to take advantage of the situation.

4. We moved into the house in Carlton Woods that my parents built. One of my earliest memories involves being "stranded" in the playroom upstairs which had a mini balcony. I remember standing on the balcony crying while every else laughed at me. This would become a common occurrence in my childhood.

5. The mortgage payments got to be too much for my school teacher parents, so they moved into a smaller house on Barbara Circle. It backed up to a lake and we had a trampoline. My sister's room had green shag carpet. Mine had hard wood floors with no area rugs (allergies).

6. We moved to Missouri--flattest place on earth. I don't really remember much about this house--other than swinging on the swing set outside when my mom called us in for a surprise. She had asked the manager of the grocery store to order grits for us.

7. The day after school got out, we moved to Birmingham. We temporarily lived in an apartment while looking for a house. It had a community pool and my sister taught me to swim butterfly in that pool. Every box we had got infested with tiny roaches which came with us when we moved.

8. After getting out of the first contract they signed upon discovering a severely leaking roof, we moved into what felt like a GIGANTIC house. It was a split level ranch and had a special psychedelic orange and yellow room that I used just for my Barbies.

9. We moved back to Hometown after a 4 year absence--to a house with a POOL! After painting over the oreo paint scheme outside, we loved it. We were there for 3 years.

10. They built another house. My dad helped his dad and brothers tear down a house in Mississippi and all of the hardwood floors, the moldings, the doors, the wainscoting, and the mantel were all used in our new house. My dad took advantage of summer vacation and worked on that house every single day that summer. We moved in right around Thanksgiving to an unfinished house and somehow managed to never have toilet paper holders or towel bars. This was our home for 7 years and we were all flabbergasted when they took an unsolicited offer from a very annoying woman to buy it near the end of my freshman year of college.

11. They moved to a rental house temporarily because the sale was so fast. I came home from my freshman year and couldn't unload my car because the house was already full. I watched the OJ chase at that house.

12. Before the end of the summer, they bought a house in Cherokee. It was time for the sweet lady who lived there to be taken care of. She had raised her family in that house and it was well loved. We became fast friends with our next door neighbors and he acted as the general contractor on the garage to master suite conversion. The Grays are definitely the best thing to come out of that house. Followed closely by the amazing rug they negotiated as part of the purchase. This was the first closing I worked on from a legal standpoint (I was working part time with my boss's father who is also a lawyer).

13. Daddy retired and got hired at a college in Atlanta. They moved to Mayberry--an Atlanta suburb--with the help of our old family friend (and my now boss). After much looking and realizing how spoiled we are by the beautiful homes in Hometown, they found a great house that we enjoyed for their 4 years there. I was in DC during most of their time there and its proximity to the airport was great.

14. While I was in Europe doing study abroad, they decided to leave Mayberry and head for the hills. They bought a house in a mountain town they had looked at for years. By the end of my two months in Europe, I was so looking forward to being home only to be told via e-mail that I might rather head to Law School town upon my return. The house was small and my grandparents were visiting. Mom solved the problem by flipping her VW Bug down a 30 foot ravine on the way to the airport. They spent the night at the hospital while I borrowed some socks from my (now) boss and crawled into their guest bed.

15. After one Christmas, 6 people, and 2 dogs, they decided they needed something a little bigger. So, a bigger house around the bend was purchased. The first night there was also our first night with Etta. We spent it on the new sofa I had purchased for my apartment at the Pottery Barn outlet that afternoon. While there are many happy memories from that home, we were all a little relieved to be away from the place where my nephew's sperm donor dropped his 29 day old head on the hard wood floor and gave him a skull fracture and brain bleed. That and the unknown rodent who had moved into the walls.

16. The lure of the boy proved so strong that they bought a house right around the corner from my sister's house. They knew it was temporary which leads to today--

17. The start of (according to my calculations) my parents' 17th move in their 40 year marriage. Right around the corner proved a little too close for everyone. They are now 20 minutes away and Daddy's working on a train room for the boy. When my dad said they got an interest only loan, he noted that it can't change for 3 years--and they will surely have moved by then.

Randomness

I spend the majority of my days in my office by myself. I have meetings and I talk on the phone and to my coworkers, but I am not enclosed in a small space with a group of people for long periods of time.

Yesterday, I had to go to a continuing legal education class and was enclosed in a small room with about 30 people all day. I suddenly remember why people drive me crazy. And I never wished so hard for my friends to be on Twitter.

For the love, people. Don't come into the room an hour late and try to squeeze between two tables that Kate Bosworth couldn't squeeze thorough. Especially when you more closely resemble Kathy Bates. Because you're going to knock over everyone's coffee and the pitcher of water on the table. Way to sneak in late.

And THEN immediately attempt to open the handy dandy jar top when contained the chocolate mints. Once you've finally figured it out, by all means, don't dump a couple of mints out of the glass jar. No, continue to reach in the glass jar and rattle around before chomping down on the mints. You and the guy behind me should take your routine on the road. Rattlerattlerattle CRUNCH!

And while we're on the subject, as annoyed as I was by the guy who answered his freaking cell phone and proceeded to REMAIN IN THE ROOM while having a phone conversation, I wish he would have stayed on the damn phone. Because once he got off, he felt the need to offer personal commentary all damn day long. When you're in a class about something as dense and confusing as Medicaid, I'm all for people asking questions. But there is absolutely no need to pretend you're asking a question when what you really want to do is hear yourself talk. And stop asking these speakers why the legislature did what it did. I finally had to tell him to call his congressman.

Between he and chocolate mint lady, I felt like I back in law school having just walked into a new class to find my two least favorite classmates were in attendance. At least in that case I could have just walked to the registrar's office and dropped the damn class.

And in other news, my sister and nephew are at the beach. My sister has recently gotten back on the exercise train. My sister qualified for the Olympic trials back in her swimming heyday, so you can imagine that when she gets on the train it is running full steam ahead. She just called to tell me that she biked all the way to Seaside (7 miles) with my nephew on the back of the bike. When she rented it, the lady told Will that Sheryl Crowe's son Wyatt had been sitting in the same seat yesterday. OMIGOD. We are Sheryl Crowe freaks. I guarantee my sister will see her before the week is up. Hopefully she will wait until I get down there.

100 Things Worth Doing

Memories I hope pop up as my life flashes before my eyes--as inspired by Maggie

1-25

1. The way Will's endless newborn eyes opened to look at me the very first time I spoke to him.
2. Singing in Carnegie Hall with my dad directing
3. Driving the Pacific Coast Highway with my sister
4. My mom's face when she realized we were going to San Francisco
5. Driving around my grandparents' farm on their three wheeler
6. Standing at the top of the stairs as "Dolly"
7. Landing in DC by myself for my internship
8. Meeting Ethel Kennedy
9. Eating our picnic lunch in Provence with Sherri
10. Watching Etta running back towards me at full steam on the beach
11. Sunsets at Hotel Washington
12. Dave Matthews Band with Leslie
13. Dancing with my girlfriends at the Youth Center
14. Floating on blow up inner tubes all day with Aimee and Christina
15. Watching my mom ride the front of the raft at the end of our white water trip
16. Body surfing with my sister for the first time
17. The market at St. Remy
18. Doing the folk dance in Germany
19. Watching the skaters at Rockefeller Center with my nephew for the first time
20. Riding in the back of the Godwin's hatchback with Allyson after the Rick Springfield concert
21. Standing in the kitchen of some condo in Panama City eating oysters with Susie
22. Getting dressed for the Halloween party with Aimee and Autumn
23. Playing in the huge magnolia tree in Gracie's front yard
24. Cherry Blossoms in Macon and DC
25. The curtain opening on "Dreamgirls"--my first Broadway show

Because Balance in Important

You know what I hate? Mean old people. For example--

I just hung up the phone with a lady in the Midwest. We're handling the probate of her first cousin's will. The cousin's lineage worked out so that her first cousins are the people who would have inherited her estate had she not had a will. Therefore, they are all entitled to receive a copy of the petition to probate along with the will.

All I needed this lady to do was sign an acknowledgment that she received a copy of the will and petition. Her signature has to be notarized. She returned the first acknowledgment to me without a notary signature so I re-sent it to her. She just lit me up: I'm 86 years old and I live in the country and I would have to drive into town and pay a notary to sign this for me. Why are you asking an old lady to do that when I'm not going to get one thing from this estate? I don't care what happens!

I explained the reasoning behind the law but told her not to trouble herself. Instead, I told her that our alternative was to have the sheriff serve her with a copy of the petition. I told her we would do that and not to be alarmed if the sheriff appeared at her door. She then scolded me some more and lamented the stupidity of Georgia law. I told her I would be glad to let my congressman know that an 86 year old lady in Illinois thinks that Georgia law is stupid, but I was still charged with following it to the letter. She just continued to tell me she didn't care so I thanked her for her help and hung up.

[Our receptionist just came up to apologize for not being able to understand the lady when she told her her name. I told her I couldn't understand her either and our receptionist said, "Well, you were sweet to her." Glad to know I haven't crossed over the line yet.]

Last week, a friend of mine who works in admissions and fundraising for a divinity school was told by an octogenarian that she is a bad mother because is "riding the money train" instead of staying home with her nine-month old. Mind you, the octogenarian has no personal knowledge of my friend's situation. You think she would have said the same thing to my sister--the sole source of support for my nephew?

At what age do people lose the rudeness/judgmental/lack-of-common-human-courtesy filter? I mean, I'm the world's biggest smart-ass and it's well established that I don't suffer fools lightly, but I do generally try to treat people with some modicum of respect. At what age am I allowed to stop? I'm thinking 33.1 months is looking good.

My Love List

Inspired by She Loves Purple and SLynnRo here's my Love List.

The Beach--everything about the beach. Rolling down the window in the car to catch the first whiff of salt air once you've crossed whatever bridge puts you in official beach territory. First stepping foot in the sand. Curling up on a chair under an umbrella with a good book. Homemade watermelon mint daiquiris while you're lying under that umbrella. Watching dogs (especially my own or one I love) take off running with abandon. The weightlessness you feel when you catch the perfect wave while body surfing. Showering after a day in the sand and surf and all the crazy things you find in your suit. Buying fresh fish at a sea side market and cooking it up myself. The way your skin feels like it has shrunk after a day in the sun. Falling asleep with the windows open to the sound of the surf.

Homemade whipped cream. With strawberries. Or chocolate. A cold beer on the front porch after digging in the dirt all day. Zinnias blooming in front of a picket fence. Dahlias as big my head (well, maybe not my big ole head). Fresh basil. Coke in a bottle. Summer tomatoes and silver queen corn. A new good white wine. The smell of a steak on a charcoal grill. A great anti pasta plate. Warm bread.

Driving on a country two lane road. With the windows rolled down. And music blaring. Especially when the farmers have their irrigation systems running. Or right after they have picked peanuts. Roadside farmers' markets. Eating boiled peanuts purchased at a roadside farmers' market while driving on a back country road with the music blaring. Right after it's rained.

Driving over the 14th Street Bridge when the cherry trees along the tidal basin are in full bloom. Driving along the GW Parkway while listening to Dave Matthews sing about sitting on top of the world with our legs hanging free. Walking along the Mall at sunset. Sangria at Jaleo.

The exhausting feeling of finishing a long, productive choir rehearsal. Singing with people I love. A rich bass voice and pure tenor voice. Boy sopranos' voices. That one chord in "Island in Space." Any performance conducted by Robert Shaw. A Capella's performance of "Heavenly Light" at the 1988 ACDA Southeastern Division conference. Looking out into the audience and not being able to see anyone but knowing you've got them in the palm of your hand. The Moses Hogan Chorale singing "Elijah Rock."

Finishing a file, boxing it up and putting it away. Original hard wood floors and crown moldings. Gas ranges. Planning a trip. Friday nights with a house full of groceries and a full TIVO. Pulling the Netflix envelopes out of the mailbox. Drinking homemade lattes from my Washington, DC mug. High school football in South Georgia on Friday nights. High school marching bands. Live performances. Sitting down to a chef's tasting menu with someone who loves food as much as I do.

A feed reader full of entries.

Favorite Line of the Week

[Telephone conversation]

What are you doing, Buddy?

I runnin aroun nekkid, Sissy. Come on! Run aroun nekkid with me!