And Though You Want to Last Forever, You Know You Never Will

I took this at the girls' choir concert. My daughters go to one of the gaudiest Catholic churches I've ever seen.

Oh, good lord, kids. We are smack dab in the middle of our busy season here at the Churlish household. As I'm sure I've mentioned a few hundred times on my blog, my parents were artists and it was the seventies and structure was never their strong suit. In turn, organization of time and anything else, has never been my strong suit either. Because of that, I have to work even harder than most people to get my shit together. I have to be careful to do everything in a certain order, or I'll forget to do a lot. It isn't something that comes naturally to me. Also, chaos doesn't really bother me either. So, after all that, sometimes no matter how organized you are, or how much you try to prepare ahead of time, your daughters still might end up eating their chicken fajita tacos in the car going from track practice to their confirmation rehearsal.

Stinky's making her confirmation tomorrow night and not a minute too soon. She foolishly tried to lie to me tonight, and about something totally stupid. I don't get it. I don't know how many times I've told the girls how much I hate to be lied to, but they keep trying it anyway. Unfortunately for them, I've dated some of the biggest and best liars in the free world, and I can smell one a mile away. Plus, my girls can't lie to me. Like tonight when I called Stinky on it, her eyes got even bigger than normal and she started to laugh nervously (which is my favorite uncomfortable habit) and then tried to lie to me anyway. Duh.

Anyway, maybe this religion thing will put the fear of god into her. I like to consider myself a spiritual person, but I don't really believe in organized religion. If you've been reading my blog, we've already covered this on here. I'm just stating it again for those who haven't. My girls go to a Catholic church with their dad. I don't have any problem with it. I think religion is great for people who are into it and find comfort in it. Hey, whatever gets everyone through their lives as healthy and happily as possible, right? I was raised catholic, but my mom encouraged me to question everything, and I did, and now I have WAY too many issues with churches to practice any one of them . There are plenty of things I've taken from Catholicism and many other religions that I've studied. Like my mother, I encourage my daughters to question everything and check out as many other beliefs as possible. You never know what they'll be able to use in their lives.

Nights are Warm and the Days are Young

Here is a picture of a garage that looks like a barn.

Oh my gawd, but Friday can't get here soon enough. This weekend I want to actually achieve some kind of balance. You know, not either spend the whole weekend doing stressful things for other people, or going the complete opposite direction and indulging all my hedonistic tendencies like last weekend. I was thinking I'd try mixing and matching for a change.

So, here's what's on tap:

Friday night my big goal is completely vegging on my couch all night. I might watch a movie, or I might catch-up on my Sopranos watching. Whatever I choose to do, it will involve comfort and escapism - my favorite combination.

On Saturday, my daughters and I will drive down to Ottumwa to celebrate Coadster's birthday with the family. I think after two weeks, her birthday should finally be sufficiently celebrated. Jinkies!

Now, here's where the mixing and matching come in. Saturday evening will be girl's night. Ondine is still in town, so we're planning on grilling out and then drinking beer in a few different bars in Iowa City. Just in case one crappy watering hole, turns out to be better than another.

On Sunday, I will garden, clean my house and get everything ready for the week. So, um...How many days do I have to try to balance all this stuff? Maybe I'll have to chuck the cleaning and organizing part. Eh - balance, schmalance.

Well it's 1969 Okay, All Across the USA

Once again, Blogger won't let me download photos. I thought the new blogger was supposed to be so much better. I never had this many problems with the old Blogger. Ugh.

Okay, I'm just going to post this fiction-y-er-ish thing. Most of the events happened, but I was too young to remember them, so I made myself and my brother older in this and sometimes used accounts of what other people told me, and sometimes remembered bits and then just made shit up. Hopefully, you won't find it too long to read during lunch and your breaks at work.

1969

Tonight is a big deal. My dad keeps telling us, “Kids, remember this. This is a very big deal.” My brother rolls his eyes and walks into his room. I stay in the living room so I can be where everyone else is. I’m afraid to miss it. It is a very big deal.

My mom has set up the card table so she can put all the food she made on it. My grandma and my Uncle Jack and my Aunt Lynn are coming over. My Aunt Lynn is divorced and everyone says it in a whisper like it’s secret and we can’t say it around her because it might make her feel bad. Her daughter is a year older than my brother. She will never play with me. After they get here, my cousin goes off with my brother and they shoot things with their slingshots. I don’t even try to tag along because I know they will start shooting at me.

My mom touches or winks at me every time she comes out of the kitchen with potato salad, or Jell-o or bread or devilled eggs. My dad likes very dark bread and brown mustard, so we always have to have it, but my mom doesn’t make me eat it or I’ll throw up. He also eats peanuts in the shell and all of our ashtrays are full of empty shells. There’s almost no room for cigarettes or ashes.

Once the whole family arrives, my dad and my Uncle Jack talk about politics and everyone tries to get them to change the subject because they don’t agree. There is so much cigarette smoke everywhere that my eyes burn.

Nobody is walking on the moon yet. They are all just watching the news, which I’m not allowed to watch because when they have the war on the news, I get scared. I once heard a ticking clock and thought it was a bomb and ran out of my parent’s room screaming. So, I’m not allowed to watch the news.

I finally get so bored, that I go into my bedroom and play with my wedding paper dolls. There is a bride and a groom and you can change their outfits for the wedding and later for the honeymoon. I hear a thunk. I know that my brother and my cousin have hit my window with a rock. I think I might tell on them, but the grown-ups are loud and drinking beer and I don’t like the way they act.

My mother comes in my room to wake me up. I fell asleep and now the groom’s tuxedo wedding outfit is stuck to my face. She picks me up and carries me into the living room. I sit on her lap to watch the man walk on the moon. Everyone is quiet and serious, but I watch my dad instead of the guy on the screen because I’ve never seen him like that before. He is staring like he usually does, but this time he seems happy – like he’s far away from our cramped and smoky living room.