too much

The 2-hr season finale of Dancing With the Stars is almost over. I've been watching the show off and on this season, mostly because I just want to fall into something mindless when I get home at night. That's what I've needed lately...mindlessness. I like coming home and just being able to let everything melt away. The past week or so has just been overwhelming to say the least.

After my last post..

I went home to the suburbs to see my parents. I had planned to go home for Mother's Day, and I really had a great time just chilling out in the burbs. Even though being at home can be a little weird for me (yeah, if I haven't mentioned it before, the situation between my parents is odd). I spent all of Sunday with my mom and, after what had happened with Jill's dad, just spending time with her meant a lot (to both of us).

I spent more time in the burbs after that, probably more time in one week than in the past 6 months combined. Monday night a group of us went to dinner with Jill after her dad's wake. The following day was the funeral and burial service. And when I got home Tuesday night, I was just drained. It had been a long, emotional day. To top it off, work has been absolutely crazy lately. Not necessarily tons and tons of work, just a lot going on simultaneously. Even worse is that all of this work involves collaborating with some colleagues I'd rather not deal with.

This past weekend it was definitely time to let go. To relax. Friday night was drinks with friends. Saturday was my high school friend's wedding (in the burbs again) - lots of time spent in front of the DJ and the open bar. Sunday was yoga, a welcome period of relaxation after what had been and what was shaping up to be...overwhelming.

weekends a go-go

My Friday off from work was timed perfectly. Somehow, I always manage to do that.

I worked like crazy Monday through Thursday. 48 hours. In four days. Tuesday was the worst at 16.5 hours. When my boss told me we would be going home close to 5 on Thursday night, I was ecstatic. Leaving that early felt like having a half day. After a few late nights in a row, I was not only exhausted, but also ready to leave the office during daylight. It had gotten to the point where I cared little about the weather because I knew it wouldn't affect me (sitting at my computer all day). Predicting rain or thunderstorms? No need to bring my umbrella - I'll most likely be expensing a cab home at 10:30 pm.

But that's all over, at least until another hellish week in August.

My mom and I planned to spend a day together on Friday and, luckily, my bosses were nice enough not to cancel it even though work was so busy. After the second late night, I really started looking forward to my Friday. Not being at work was enough to keep me happy. And getting off on time Thursday evening made it even better. I came home and napped before going to a late dinner at a new tapas restaurant in my neighborhood.

Friday was perfect. The weather was beautiful, although a bit hot. My mom and I met at 10 and walked straight to the Museum of Contemporary Art. Our primary reason for going was the Andy Warhol/Supernova exhibit (which ends Sunday), but neither of us had been to the MCA since it moved locations. There were other temporary exhibits that were just as interesting, if not more, than the one we planned to see. A photography exhibit on the first floor occupied most of time when we arrived at the MCA. I loved it, but I would have preferred to study the photos of penises without my mom at my side.

After the MCA, we had a long lunch. One of my favorite things about my mom is how we talk. We talk about any and everything, and we are constantly asking each other for advice. So lunch went long, mostly because we just needed some face time with each other. It had been over a month.

I didn't want my perfect day to end there, but I didn't have any evening plans. My roommate Anne and I ended up on the couch watching too many hours of programming on the Style network (I do not recommend this). After hour three, we determined we were better than this and vowed to have a good night out (and not on the couch). My Warhol day came full circle once we got to Sonotheque a few hours later where the theme of the night was Sono-a-gogo. Anne felt like we were at the Factory with the drinks, 60s music, go-go boots, and films on the wall. I ordered a few gin & sodas and was having a great time despite the strange Dutch man with sour breath who wouldn't leave me alone.

After go-going for awhile, we left and went another bar and then to Anne's friend's place. Drinking wine, gin, and beer had made me quite the drowsy girl and I quickly passed out. Waking around 4, I was confused and left without Anne. All the while knowing that I might have to work today.


But there was no work today. Just sun worshipping in the afternoon and random parties (rained-out Taste of Randolph, wine, pizza, & Catchphrase, and a warehouse/gallery party where the temperature was about 95 degrees and we rummaged through the messy kitchen for some booze like we were 17 again) all night. I managed to maintain my three-day weekend and have a great time being a neighborhood whore with Anne.

Photojournal to come.

A book review and some blubbering about my mom

Within 24 hours, I finished Chuck Klosterman's Killing Yourself to Live. This is what I like to do on my vacation (aside from going to the movies) - read. A lot. Depending on the book or the writing style, I can get through a 250-300 pager in a day or two. Chuck Klosterman is an easy read. It was the same with Sex, Drugs, & Cocoa Puffs. His writing is direct and all about pop culture so his books are more like long-form Spin articles than nonfiction works. And since I am someone who relates much of my life to pop culture, I am right there with him through every obscure musical reference or TV show.

I would like to sit down and have a conversation with him some time.

ANYWAY, the book's premise is that Klosterman will travel around the country visiting the places where famous musicians have died. He will try and understand what it is about dying that makes artists become even more famous - or at least known. Not to ruin the book for those of you who haven't read it, but musical death takes a backseat when Klosterman is alone in his rental car, thinking about the women in his life. The women all relate to music in some way, but this book is more about relationships than rock stars dying.

I liked it.

For me, the most relevant passage came toward the very end. I would like to quote the entire thing, but that would a) take up too much space and time and b) probably be plagiarism. So I will try and split it up into something that still gets at the very meaning of what he is saying (this is page 232 for those of you who have a copy):

"We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime...But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you'll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there's still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition...This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people...[they] are not inherently different than anyone else, and they're often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins...Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."

I say that this passage is relevant because I've been doing a lot of thinking about relationships, love (or what I thought was love), and other assorted items. I mentioned that I was feeling emotional over the past weekend, and I'm still feeling that way. There are those people, the few important ones that you meet in your life, that have this hold over you. Sometimes they disappear for awhile and you don't realize just how much they mean. Or maybe they are around often, but then you have a moment or two with them that changes everything because you see how special they are in your life. I think my mother is a perfect example. She's around all the time. I love my mother and we are very close. But it is over the past year that I've realized how sad I would be if she wasn't here. On Christmas Eve I had a dream that she died. I woke up in tears. Even writing about it now, I can feel myself about to cry. Just hours before falling asleep that night, my mom told me that she came home the night of her birthday and started crying. Because of my generous gift. Because she loves me. Because I am her only daughter, only child, and closest friend.

I promise I will get back to the nonfamily related emotions soon....

Recovery

So I actually feel pretty good. I've been resting on the couch over the past two days, watching WAY too much TV, frozen peas on my cheeks, and medicine when needed.

Aside from some soreness in my left jaw, I'm doing so well. I barely remember much about the surgery. There was a point when I motioned to the oral surgeon and his assistants that I would be up for harvesting my eggs just for the money. I guess it had come up in conversation.

My parents met me afterwards and took me to McDonald's for a chocolate shake (or 2), then back to my apartment. Dad left and Mom stayed until about 10 pm. It was great having her around, even though I was initially not too excited about it. I forgot how great it is when my mom takes care of me. The first couple hours were messy. Since my chin and lips were still somewhat numb, I had difficulty keeping the shake in my mouth and off my shirt. Mom and I watched TV and just spent some time together, which was just comforting. I was even willing to let her stay the night if needed. But by the time night rolled around and my roommates came home from work, I was feeling 100 times better. No puffy cheeks, no more numbness, and I'm doing better with more solid food.

And from all this time laying around my apartment, I'll totally be ready to go to work on Monday.