Wow! I Just Walked Through My Childhood!

I'm sitting here at the airport in Raleigh, N.C., waiting to fly home after spending the past week helping Son #3 relocate to Greensboro where he'll be working in the school's athletic department.  We met his boss, Jody, who walked us through through the field house there and HOLY COW!  Suddenly I was little Ann Edwards, looking over the railing of the second floor Smith field house on BYU's campus.  It was all so familiar.  The photos!  The trophies!  The office spaces!  The views of a practice field!  The gyms and the weight rooms!

AND THE AROMA!

Oh, yes.  The aroma.  A heady mix of equipment and the scent of recent workouts.

Thanks for the memories, NCG!

Adult Parents + Adult Children + Technology = Tense Moments

I've been spending some time with Son #3 who went into cardiac arrest when he looked at my iPhone.

"Mom," he said, "you have 6470 unread emails."

"I do?"

"Yes.  See?"

"Oh."

"Doesn't that drive you crazy?"

"Not that I've noticed."

Anyway.  Later that day, this son spirited my phone away and started messing around with it.

"What are you doing?"  I asked.

"Simplifying your life."

I felt a distinct sinking feeling in my gut.  Whenever my kids try to "simplify" my life on the technological front, things always go south.  My Tech Life may be a hot mess, but at least I know how to navigate it.

Anyway.  He eventually handed back my phone and SURE ENOUGH it was useless unto me.  So I made him change everything back.  Which means I have 6470 unread emails.

Oh.  Excuse me.  6471 unread emails.

Hair Stuff

I had a surprising conversation with TRQ over lunch the other day.  She looked at me and said, "I like your hair."

Basically, TRQ, who is the Queen of Hair and used to give home perms to the entire neighborhood when I was growing up, has often not been onboard with my personal hair choices.  And she has especially been displeased with my decision to go gray because the women in our family do not go gray.  Going gray means you have given up on life.  Going gray means you might as well put on a housecoat and some slippers and sit in front of a TV with a bunch of cats in your lap for the rest of your life.

But wow.  She looked at me and said, "I like your hair."

Then she took a  dainty bite of her fried calamari as if nothing earth-shattering had just happened.

Because Lilacs!

As some of you know, I struggle during the winter months.  But I'll tell what makes those months totally, totally worth it.

Lilacs.

Frothy, frilly, fragrant lilacs that are gone before you know it, so it is imperative that you STOP YOUR LIFE and stand by a bush and inhale everything about them while they last.

Lilacs need cold weather to grow.  And when I learned this, I vowed to always live where the lilacs bloom.  You know.  In the dooryard.  Or whatever.

Lilacs.

Old Movies

Last night at work, one of the teenagers who helps us set up for events said that When Harry Met Sally is her favorite movie.  Then she sighed happily and said, "I just LOVE old movies."  And I was all, "Wait.  When Harry Met Sally is an old movie?!"  I feel like I just saw it in the theater with Ken Cannon and a big old tub of buttered popcorn for company.

Meanwhile, this young woman went on to talk about Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal the way I used to talk about Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall.  And suddenly I had that moment (again) where I realized how relative time and age are.

Life.

And We Called Him Mary Alice

I walked past the Lion House yesterday and remembered the birthday party I threw there for myself three years ago.  You know.  The one for little girls where they teach you how to play "Button, Button" and pull taffy while wearing a pioneer bonnet.  I never got that party when I was a kid, so I called and asked if I could have it as an adult.

LION HOUSE HOSTESS:  The one where you pull taffy while wearing a pioneer bonnet?

ME:  Yes.  That's the one.

So although the people at the Lion House thought I was super weird, etc. they said okay and I invited my daughters-in-law and the friends I walk with in the morning and TRQ, who asked if she could bring her friend Mary Alice to the party.  Of course, I said!  The more Mary Alice the merrier!

But Mary Alice decided not to go at the last minute, so TRQ brought up my dad instead.

"This is a girl party," I told him.

So he put on a bonnet and we called him Mary Alice all night long. Also, he pulled taffy.

What a guy!

Daunting Dining and an Anniversary

I am not a food and/or restaurant snob.  I want to establish this fact right upfront.

Is this fact established?

It is?  Good!  Then I'll proceed.

A few weeks ago I was given a gift card to The Cheesecake Factory for a presentation I did, so Ken Cannon and I decided to meet for lunch at the City Creek location on our anniversary last week.  Which we did.  We stole away in the middle of the day to the Cheesecake Factory like a couple of crazy teenagers in love.  Except with really bad knees.  You know.  Like the knees old people who've been married for over 40 years have.

Anyway.  I've eaten at TCF before, but not when I've been borderline depressed like I am right now.  When we arrived I was suddenly overwhelmed by the HUGENESS of it all.  The Cheesecake Factory is like the Caesar Palace of chain restaurants (I may have stolen this comparison from Lisa B, so if I did, thanks for that, Lisa B!).  High ceilings!  Columns!  Crowds of people ready to cheer on their favorite gladiator while eating some Roadside Sliders!  Also, the menu is longer than my graduate thesis on the short stories of Katherine Anne Porter was--I have spent a lifetime underwriting everything, yo--so it takes a lot of determination to plow through your dining options at TCF.

In the end Ken Cannon ordered a hamburger and I ate half of it because I couldn't decide what to get for myself, which is also a function of being borderline depressed (don't worry--I always get better).  I did enjoy the red velvet cheesecake A LOT, however, although red velvet anything is often disappointing.

So there it is.  What we did for our anniversary.  Meanwhile, I think I'll check out restaurants that cater to borderline depressed people for now.  Suggestions appreciated!