Two card ritual.

Today is my dad's birthday. My parents started this ridiculous tradition when I was younger, where each year you have to buy two cards for someone's birthday...one is funny and the other is serious. For as long as I can remember this has been "the rule." Actually, this is my mom's rule...she's the only person I know who can spend an entire afternoon in the Hallmark store, reading card after card, in search of the perfect one (or two). I, on the other hand, am not a believer in spending $4.00 on a piece of paper that I am going to write my name on so that you can then, in turn, throw it away 5 minutes after I give it to you...it's wasteful and unnecessary. And then to double it up...two cards...plus tax...that's almost $10.00 that you might as well flush down the crapper. No thanks. I'd rather donate the money to a charity or buy myself two triple grande non-fat no-whip mochas from Starbucks or put $8.50 worth of gas in my car...I can't help it, I was an economics major in college and I still think of everything in terms of opportunity cost. But the two card tradition means a lot to my mom so I oblige...and let me state for the record, that my mom and dad are the only two people on the face of the planet that I'd participate in this silly ritual for. (Yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition...deal with it).


So anyways, I got two cards this past week...threw a gift card in that he can use towards the new set of gold clubs that he wants...sent them priority mail to ensure they'd get to Lake Wylie on time...woke up this morning...and called my dad first thing to wish him a happy birthday. He was in the yard doing yard work with my mom when I called. He said that when they finished working outside they were getting cleaned up, going to a fabric store and then to go see Julie and Julia. My poor dad. He is 59 today and my mom has him pulling weeds and fabric shopping and watching lame movies on his birthday! When I got off the phone with him I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being there. My brother and his wife (who live in Wilmington) didn't come up for his birthday because they had company in town for the weekend. I wasn't there. And so, of course, I've spent most of the day today thinking about moving back to the east coast.


It comes and goes in waves. On days like today I realize that I can't get any of the time back. I realize that the people who matter most to me are the ones who I should be spending the day with...not talking to on the phone from across the country.


I have a plan.


The wheels are in motion and even though it's not happening as quickly as I'd like it to, I've learned that the universe always has a way of unfolding exactly as it should. For now, I live in Sacramento.


My boss told me last week that he's sending me to New York for the MTV Video Music Awards in September. That should be fun, right? Here's the kicker...Jay and I are supposed to go together since Wayne and Juan went to the Grammy's earlier this year but Jay is terrified of flying AND the VMA's are two weeks before his wedding. So, he said he doesn't want to go which means I have to fly to NY and spend the weekend with Wayne. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this yet. On the one hand, it might do us some good to spend time together outside of work. We've never really so much as attempted to "hang out" or get to know one another because for the most part, we're like oil and water. On the other hand, we don't have the best track record. He once told me he had a "swastika tattooed on his dick" (direct quote) and then he sent me Bible scripture which referred to non-believers as those "headed on a path of destruction." Can you blame me for not wanting to spend a weekend with him?


Here's how I look at it. Last year I went to the Grammy's with the person I was madly in love with. I know this is self-inflicted torture...but I still have the pictures from the Saturday night we spent on the beach in Malibu, drinking wine and watching the sun set. He wrote messages in the sand and I took pictures of them which I had planned on still having someday at our 50th wedding anniversary.

Less than a week after the above pictures were taken, he walked out on me without any explanation.

So this year, maybe I'll go to the VMA's with someone I'm less than thrilled about spending time with and who knows...maybe we'll come back with a newfound respect for one another??? And if not, then I'd be an idiot to let someone (anyone) ruin a cool weekend in NYC.



Other than that, not much else is going on. I'm all moved into my new house. My favorite part, by far, is the sun room:

Other than that, I can't think of much else to tell you. I'm still trying to get The Reusables up and running. I've been playing phone tag with the guy from Monkeyfeather Books for the past couple of weeks now. Patience is the key. Either that, or he's avoiding me like the plague.

Happy Birthday Dad!