And then I was at the circus...

Today was a full day of conference activities which was YAWN. It was an opportunity to watch a lot of department of education employees get all defensive while people kind of yelled at them so it was not a complete loss.

But last night was the night I am pretty sure I was at the circus. At least that is how it felt. I met up with my friend Mary who I worked with at Boston College at the reception at the end of the first day of the conference, and we went back to her hotel so she could change before we ventured out for dinner. As we entered the hotel into what is a bar/lounge area decorated in a hip happening bar/loungy way with very cool light fixtures and a very large red sea urchin kind of hanging piece of art work, we were assaulted by cool hip bar music, and lots of conversation. In the corner some woman was holding what appeared to be some sort of healing ceremony. She was laying hands on the faces/heads of two boys in the corner and chanting at them. Nearby there were two other guys dodging at each other in a sort of shadow basketball game. It was surreal.

We ended up eating at The Republic of Texas because we were in search of steak, and the Little Rhine Steakhouse was closed on a Sunday night. We left just as the karaoke started. There was a very obese Asian man singing Ring of Fire. It was surreal.

Then we found our way to Durty Nellie's Irish Pub where we found some friends hanging out. This is one of those places with peanuts on the floor. We sat outside which at 10pm was almost comfortable. Some people drank Jagermeister and Red Bull shots, NOT ME, because Red Bull is gross and Jagermeister should be renamed Vomitmeister.

Tonight I had dinner with some other friends back at Boudrou's. I had a the very delicious grilled fish with garlic mashed potatoes. They make guacomole right at your table. I do not like avacodo, but I could NOT get enough of this guacamole. If you ever find yourself in San Antonio, go to Boudrou's and have the guac for two. You will NOT regret it.

Then my friends dragged me to this place called Howl at the Moon. I am easily 450 years too old for this place. It is a piano bar. A DUELING piano bar. I stayed long enough to hear them play Sweet Caroline, which is a very Boston thing. It is played at every Red Sox game and there is a sing along and hand motions.

Now I am here, typing and now I am going to bed. I miss my boys and am ready to go home. But I have one more day. Whee!

Does anyone actually LIVE here?

After my second full day of San Antonio, and I have a question: Does anyone actually LIVE in the city? It is so unlike Boston in so many ways, but the most striking difference is that there don't seem to be residences here in the city. In Boston you have a healthy mix of old brown stone buildings that are condos and apartments along with the businesses and restaurants everywhere. Boston has people out and about all the time. After dinner last night at La Magarita's, which was excellent, we walked part of the way back. The streets were desolate. On a SATURDAY night. This would be unheard of in Boston. The heat was more tolerable at 8pm than earlier in the day, but there still were very few people, other than us tourists, out and about.

A word about outdoor dining in San Antonio: BIRDS. Holy bird crap Batman. I am not a fan of birds being near me to begin with - hello West Nile virus - but eating outside in this city means these birds that resemble what I would call a grackle back home STALK you with these creepy open beaked beady eyed stares. So while I was enjoying my chicken enchiladas and sangria, I was keeping my own beady eye on several characters who would have thought nothing of hopping right up and eating off my plate. ICK.

Today my Uncle David and Aunt Sharon, who reside in Orange, TX, drove over to have lunch with me. This is my father's younger brother. They are awesome. We had lunch at Boudreau's, once we found it. While the Riverwalk SEEMS like you should be able to find things easily, you often find that you are on the wrong side of the river from the place you want to be. After lunch we walked back to the end of the Riverwalk where you can get on a boat tour.

Two words about open boat tours in San Antonio on a sunny afternoon: Heat STROKE. As Sharon, the delicate southern flower that she is (originally from West Virginia) declared "I am glistening". In Boston we call it SWEATING. Profusely.

But I learned some things about San Antonio, about the river, and saw some other places that would be fun to check out for eating and/or libations. If of course I can find my way BACK to these places without being on a boat.

They don't have an actual water taxi service that I can see. I thought they did. They SHOULD. BUSINESS PLAN for those who are in the market. I would do it, but then I would have to live in Texas. And boy howdy that ain't happening.

And finally, my uncle informed me that his son, my cousin Matthew, a DOCTOR, has purchased an AK47.

????? He doesn't live in the Republic of Texas either. He is not neighbors with Ted Nugent.

He likes to shoot guns at the shooting range, I was told. Okaaaay, but why not a rifle, a hand gun, why an ASSAULT weapon? No one really knows, but my aunt suggested it might be because of all the elderly vets he has worked with at the VA hospital. He is a fan of history, he has a strong sense of tradition, so he might have found their combat stories inspiring. All I know is that if he was my husband he would be finding somewhere else for that little item to live that is not in my home. I grew up going to my grandparents house where there were rifles on the wall of the bedroom my brother and I would stay in as small children. I am not anti gun. I am anti assault weapon in my home though. CRAZY.

Ah, Bob just informed me that it isn't a fully automatic weapon because that would be illegal for him to own. THAT is comforting.

It's HOT y'all

Well, there are several reasons I can never live in Texas.

1. I would instantly develop this really obnoxious but thoroughly genuine Texas accent. Hi, my name is Michele and I am a magpie. I can't help it.

2. IT IS FREAKING HOT HERE. I don't know if the natives know this or not. I am not sure anyone I have seen so far is actually FROM here. Maybe the guy driving the taxi I took from the airport to the hotel last night. But it is something like 104 right now.

3. The Alamo. I can't live here because they took this historic site of a battle we LOST and made it into a SHRINE. Texas is CRAZY that way.

My friend Laura and I will wander down to a restaurant that not one but two people have recommended - Thanks Ron - La Margarita Mexican Restaurant and Oyster Bar. I am not a fan of the oyster except in their service to mankind by producing pearls, but I do love Mexican food, and if it is authentic it is even better. I also will abstain from any tequila based drinks. The few times I tried any margaritas I became very very very angry. Like I wanted to punch someone angry. So unless one of my friends has enough money for bail, and because my boss said I wasn't allowed to embarrass the college, I will not be drinking any margaritas. They don't take me to a happy place.

I shall report tomorrow on our night of dining and what have you. Meanwhile, back at the homestead, Cooper got a hair cut and seems to be surviving, AND sleeping, just fine without me. Gooooo BOB!

Deep in the heart of Texas...

Tomorrow I get on an airplane and go to San Antonio for a conference. Two conferences really, that always happen back to back. Financial aid related conferences. So I will be in a land where it is approximately 12000 degrees, sitting in sessions learning more about federal regulations and blahblahblah. The interesting part is that the new president of NASFAA (national association of financial aid administrators) was just indicted on 8 felony counts from his time at a college in CA. He was supposed to be the keynote speaker. He won't be speaking.

So Bob will be in charge of three dogs and one child for the 5.5 days I will be gone. I am SURE he will handle it just fine, but I would appreciate it greatly if I don't come home to the same situation I found the last time I had to leave him in charge for any length of time. That time I came home to a son who would not go to bed before 9pm and would not fall asleep in his bed. Since we are currently blessed with a child who goes to bed like it is his job, with a sigh and a smile and many kisses and hugs, I would like to keep it that way. Otherwise I am sure all will be well.

I have never been to Texas, other than on a layover in the Dallas airport. This will be interesting. I don't really like being hot. That is actually a wild understatement. If it breaks 80 degrees around here I am sweating and uncomfortable. I used to have a stove with a dial for the oven temperature (as opposed to the digital version I have now) which had 110 as the lowest temperature. So officially, this is the temperature at which things might begin COOKING? I just checked, they are predicting temperatures between 101 and 104 over the next 6 days. With sunny or partly cloudy days. Such a difference from the 69 degrees and rainy we have been having here.

I will be attempting to give updates here while I am there. Unless I have melted into an indistinguishable puddle of goo.

Grateful...

Grateful: being warmly or deeply appreciative of kindness or benefits received.

Today I spent 20 minutes on the phone with a mother who could not have been more grateful to all we, the royal we of the college, have done for her and her daughter. She kept saying that. She began the conversation concerned about how she was going to pay the bill. After resolving a bit of that concern, and explaining some of her options about the payment for the balance, she launched into a discussion about how wonderful the college has been to them. How she approached our office feeling embarrassed to discuss her situation, but that not one person made her feel awkward about it, that we just set about explaining what to do and helping them through the process. She spent a few minutes talking about her daughter and how she has learning disabilities, and that they worked very hard throughout high school to help her and get her tutoring, and that the end result was she wrote about it in her admissions essay, with no help from anyone. She talked about her life and how hard she had worked to provide a good life for her children, and despite the fact that now she and their father are going through a difficult divorce, they should still go to college and get the education she never got.

Often during these conversations, where the person feels the need to ramble on, sometimes incoherently, I wander into a zone where I am just responding with "Uh hu" or "Hmmm" and I am waiting for that break where I can bring the conversation to a close. This time was different. I could tell this woman REALLY wanted me to understand how thankful she was and why. So I listened. And I HEARD her. I appreciate how hard she has worked and how she is still going to work hard to make this happen. She wasn't just asking me to solve the problem for her, like many people do, she just wanted to know her options. She is very proud of her daughter, and she wanted me to understand that. Not because she wanted me to give her more money for being a hard working great kid, but because she wanted me to know she was a hard working great kid is stretching herself in ways no one thought possible.

Mostly she wanted to say thank you. She said she wanted to say it in writing, should she send a letter to the president of the college. YES I said. He would love to hear all this goodness about his staff. But even if she doesn't do that, I heard it. I heard a mother who is proud of her child, and grateful for everything people have done to make this transition possible and smooth.

And I am really grateful to her for sharing all of that. Because it is the thing that keeps me doing this job. When I am disillusioned about work, because of bureaucratic crap, endless streams of stupidity from many sources, it is this kind of conversation that reminds me why I do it. We really can and do make a difference in people's lives.

And that picture is my dog Gus. He expresses gratitude in ways that people just cannot, at least not without risking arrest or being shunned. Like plopping his whole body on top of me on the couch and sticking his nose in my face, giving me the love, or lying on his back waggling his feet in the air in the sun on the deck as if to say "THANK YOU for letting me out here to sunbeam doze." Dogs are the definition of gratitude sometimes.

I hope you find something to be grateful for today.

The pros and cons of being 45

Today I celebrate my 45th birthday. Wheeeee. Do you like the picture? That was me, approximately 30 years ago. A friend from high school who found me via FaceBook sent it to me. That was taken in her house. I have to say the perm ROCKED. How better to celebrate turning 45 than putting a picture up from one of your more awkward moments in time.

I am not particularly sensitive about my age. I figure there isn't much I can do about being any particular age, it is what it is. I do find myself FEELING my age here and there - like when chasing a 2 year old around. I was sitting with him on the couch over the weekend, and as I stood up to go get play dough out of the closet, something went "PINGpopBOING" in my left knee and caused pain ever so momentarily. I yelped of course, and Cooper piped up from the couch "You OK?" Of course I was, and am. I need to more yoga, and get things stretched out more.

But here are things I like about being 45:

I am very comfortable in my skin.
I don't feel the need to be a people pleaser unless I WANT to be a people pleaser.
I am way more relaxed about life in general than I was 10 or 20 years ago. Things have a way of working out.
I own a home.
My car insurance is lower than it would be if I was 25.
No one expects me to play competitive sports. Not that they did before, but they definitely don't now.
I don't get perms anymore.


Things I don't like about being 45:

My eyes seem to have betrayed me. I need reading glasses. Actually, I needed them early on in life, like at age 7 because I was far sighted. I outgrew it for awhile, but now it is here to stay.
My knees make funny noises and complain when I get up from having been sitting for awhile.
Hello flibby flabby bits.

My staff brought in Birthday Bagels this morning. It is a tradition I started awhile ago. Cake is so old news. Assorted bagels with a variety of schmear, now that says HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Later today I hope to be having eggplant parmesan from The Chateau, a local establishment, and birthday pie. When offered the choice of dessert pastry to celebrate a birthday, I will always go for pie over cake.

Hope you all have a lovely day.

Treadmill death watch, day 2

Because I don't have a long enough list of things I would spend money on if I actually HAD ANY, the treadmill is on life support. This is the treadmill that we acquired from the ex-wife after the last one was fried in the great flood of 2008. Bob has had this particular treadmill for almost 10 years, and it had spent the last 4 years or so living at the ex-wife's house. So when we got it, it was "free" which is a good price when you have fried not one but two practically brand new treadmills in the previous 3 years in basement floods. The basement has been flood free for a year now, KNOCKING ON WOOD VIOLENTLY, because of the law of the universe that says if you spend $2100 on a sump pump system to prevent flooding in the basement, it will not be needed. Much like carrying an umbrella will prevent it from raining. Unless you live in Boston right now. So ironically we are having one of the wettest summers in recent memory, and yet, the sump pump has not been needed.

Anywho, back to my tale of woe. The past few days the treadmill, while being used by Bob because he doesn't feel like running in a thunderstorm and who can blame him, suddenly, around mile 3, decides to go to a 12% incline and then stop. It has some sort of seizure, and gasps for air and stops. Now when I am on the treadmill, I am using it at a polite 3.2 miles per hour, and mostly not inclined. Bob on the other hand is RUNNING, for 4 - 6 miles at a time. I think that is probably asking a lot of 10 year old treadmill. I would have a seizure too.

After resting for a day and having incantations chanted around it while sprinkling it with holy water, it seems to come back to life, only to do the whole thing all over again the next time Bob uses it. I have not been able to use it because it is still laying on the couch with a cool cloth on it's forehead when I need to use it. So I think we are witnessing the demise of the treadmill. Which is decidedly counter productive to my ongoing quest to lose more weight. I am on track, but I really do need to lose another 20lbs to be in a healthy weight zone for my paltry 5'4" frame. I have dropped one clothing size so far, which is AWESOME, but there is more to go.

If it does die, which I think it will, the question will be do we try to get it fixed, or perhaps buy one off of Craig's list for half the price a new one would be. Or live without one and figure out another way for me to get a good cardio work out. I have a rowing machine and hand weights, but I am unable to row for 30 minutes which is how long I am usually on the treadmill. It is something I can do for maximum 10 minutes at a stretch, then things being getting really tight in my back. Right now walking outside is as difficult as running - I am NOT doing it in a torrential downpour/thunderstorm.

I know this is such a mundane concern compared to real problems like poverty and starvation. So I will count my blessings and be grateful. Are there healers out there for exercise equipment?