Missing You

May 30, 2008 | Category: In My Life

They would sit around the table, in tan pants and button-downs. And they would tell me about the plan. And argue about the plan. And I would sit, serenely. Listening. Bending, when need be. And ultimately, nodding. Saying "Yes, this is what we will do. It will be done. You will do your part." And they would, ultimately, nod and say "Yes. Despite all my arguments, despite my enthusiasm one way or another, I agree."

Then we would shuffle in a bundle out the door. Chit chat and empty coffee cups. Maybe head on down to the bar for a drink or over to that Chinese place. I would tug my Citibank card from my wallet, the one with no limit, to pay.

Or sometimes a vendor would, waggling his fingers at me to say he had the tab. No worries.

At the front door, home, I would kick off my heels. One, then the other. Never pantyhose or nylons. I would drop my laptop bag with a soft thud. Scoop my hair up into a scrunchie.

By the time I hit my office, she'd be fading. The senior staffer with the flashing eyes and serious agenda.

And I wouldn't miss her.

I'd be glad to be back in the light-filled enclave, with cables and phones. Able to get actual work done, away from the cubicle canyons with people popping up their heads over the half-height foam core walls. Like Meercats and Prairie Dogs- "Just one sec, Elizabeth?" they'd call.

Those seconds would snowball into hours. Every. Time.

I'd see an unfamiliar me in their eyes. A decision maker. Curved and female and maybe a little wise, but never soft. And taller, in those black pumps.

I wouldn't miss her the next day, when I'd be back in yoga pants and a ponytail.

I'd obsess on what my son had been doing while I was away. On what tragedies were smashing and crashing at home. On the little details I could never quite push out of my mind about the real estate taxes and cupcakes for the party.

One day, you know, I just quit. Like a Merry-Go-Round ride, I held on to the pole and pushed out my leg off the base. Finding just the right moment to leap. Springing into the air as the carousel spins away from under me. Landing a little wobbly on solid ground.

Still spinning a little.

And then finding my way.

The seasons have come and gone since I leaped. And now I am back there, in a tiny way. Interviewing a senior staffer for an article.

"Oh," he chuckles as we traced our lineages to find some history in common. A telecom we both worked at, long long ago. "Oh, I bet you don't miss that!"

I laugh.

And never tell him that I do. Sometimes with a yearning that makes me wobble on steady ground.

There are no perfect paths, just roads taken. And sometimes I miss the me that walked the other one. I miss her curled hair and lipsticked lips. I miss the way people stopped to talk. I miss the way she sat, actively listening. Deciding things that stay decided.

I never missed her then. But now, sometimes, I do.

Do you know?

May 29, 2008 | Category: In My Life

Am I happy? I ask him.

You tell me, he shrugs. Big eyes bright as he falls back into quiet.

Are WE really happy? I push.

If we agree we are, then who's to argue, he responds.

But we fell apart. And once broken, the fairy tale ends. We fell apart, and there is still so much scarred and not-quite about us. I think we're lying to ourselves. I think its all wishful thinking.

He looks at me, thoughtfully. He looks and doesn't say anything.

I lie to myself a lot. I tell myself I'm skinny

You're not, he makes half a smile. But you're beautiful.

Don't say things like that. Just tell me true things. Tell me about how we fell in love, and had a baby, and then the dark and now we'll never have that trust again. I rub my face. Sometimes I don't know what to think. I get scared that we didn't really heal. That we just stopped hurting. And it's not the same. And this love is just....

What? He asks, waiting.

The moment ticks on. I don't know, I admit. Love?

Yeah, said gently. It always was.

Spring is giving way to summer. The ped-bridge in Riverside, Bear and his friends scampering across.

And this is part of the reason we need to change things

| Category: In My Life

Thank you so much for the comments and emails about this strange "debt".

I called Loyola, AGAIN, and got a live body who seemed very confused by the 'situation'. They're gonna call me back, they say....

I know that the letter I wrote was not the 'proper' response, and I did add the necessary FDCPA language to the letter, which someone asked about. Here it is, in case:

To put it bluntly: I dispute the above-referenced debt. Please verify this debt as required by the Fair Debt Collection Practices Act.

While this debt is being disputed, you cannot report this debt to the credit reporting agencies. If you have already reported it the credit reporting agencies, please contact the credit reporting agencies, inform them that the debt is disputed, and ask them to delete it from my credit report. Reporting information that you know to be inaccurate, or failing to report information correctly, is a violation of the Fair Credit Reporting Act and other applicable laws.

And Then They Piss Me Off With Fake Collection Letters

May 28, 2008 | Category: In My Life

We opened our mail today to see an invoice stamped 'Second Notice' and informing me that 'by my lack of response' I had affirmed that a debt to my alma mater, Loyola, is legitimate. The company, "William and Fudge" (really?), wants me to 'remit $150 immediately' - to THEM, not Loyola.

Gah?

I can say with 100% certainty that I owe Loyola nothing. Almost a decade ago, I actually went to the campus and paid off the last remaining balance I had with them in person, on a loan they'd extended me during my senior year. That loan had been a bane over my head and on my credit rating and after they printed me out a clean accounting, I skipped all the back to my car. And there's been no new activity since.

Trust me. Loyola knows where I live. They would like me to die and leave everything to their new library. They would like me to be $1000/head tickets to their alumni dinner.

I hate scam artists like Fudge & Williams. They are a bane on society. I mean, bottom feeders at least have a purpose. These people? Just cruise old rolls and try to scare money out of people. And you gotta know that some people fall for it.

If I believed in assault weapons? I would advocate using these people for target practice.

Instead I wrote them a nice letter.

Damn lying liars.
_____________________________________________________________
May 28, 2008
To: Williams & Fudge, Inc.
300 Chatham Ave., P.O. Box 11590
Rock Hill, SC 29731
Acct.: blah

To Whom It May Concern,

I received a letter from you today dated May 23, 2008. It stated that you were “assuming a debt to be valid” because of some kind of lack of response from me. This was utter nonsense as this was the FIRST correspondence I have ever received from you and, I hope, the LAST.

I DO NOT owe so much as a penny to Loyola University of Chicago in any way, form, or fashion and I especially do not owe YOU. I have, in fact, confirmed this with the school itself. I have been square with that organization for a very long time, especially considering I finished in 1993.

If you continue your blatantly ridiculous efforts to extort money from me, or in any way do ANYTHING derogatory to my credit, I promise you that I will unleash an onslaught on you and your employees in the form of my lawyers that will make hiding in the bowels of hell seem like welcome sanctuary.

You will cease and you will desist immediately.

Quite sincerely,
me

Common Ground

May 18, 2008 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

If love is measured in how much we enjoy doing the same things, then we fail.

There are only 3 of us, but I swear we equal about 12 different opinions. Doesn't matter the topic.

For example, of all the food in all the world - there are exactly 3 meals that the 3 of us like the same. Two of which are made by someone else (IKEA Meatballs and Panda Express) and the third? Yeah, hamburger.

CD is an Icelandic Socialist, I'm a Christian Independent, and Bear is a moderate Democrat who often switches to Republican due to his strong feelings about fiscal responsibility (oh, do YOU want to be the one to explain to my 7 year old that he's too young for informed political opinions? Yeah, have fun with that.)

We took the Belief-O-Matic, and I came up 100% as a Mainline Conservative Protestant, CD was a mix of Christian, neo-pagan, and Unitarian Universalism, and Bear? A Liberal Protestant and Quaker, (both 100%)!

We have different sleep patterns, levels of fitness, taste in decorating, and ideas of fun.

And yet?

It's amazing how much common ground we find, every day. Tonight we all piled onto the couch with bowls of pasta (different sauces, of course) and watched Mythbusters. After we were done eating, Sara McFluffy jumped up and spread across our legs as we stayed in a pile, enjoying the end of the show.

Looking at us, at how much we really enjoy just being together, I sort of stepped outside myself in wonder. That we are so different, and yet have forged this wide ribbon of common experiences that are uniquely, amazingly, us.

Of all the blessings in the world, this is the one I am most grateful for. Not to be too sappy for words on a Sunday Night, but you know - there have been a lot of years in my existence when I could never have imagined this kind of happiness. So I apologize for my misty moments of awe, they are unfashionable and trite.

And miraculous.

Boomdiadah, boom.

(Our favorite new commercial, but watch out - it's addictive!)

Graduation

May 13, 2008 | Category: In My Life

This is the email I sent out to folks last night...

To (mis)quote my favorite movie; There is too much, let me sum up.

I homeschooled Bear this year through first grade. Under no misapprehension that a handful of Elementary Ed classes back in the stone ages make me qualified, I suppose it would have been all right if I had bought some kind of pre-approved box o' curriculum and followed it, squinting owlishly with focus.

I did no such thing.

With a mismatched & motley collection of CD Roms, textbooks, workbooks, and fizzy science kits that made all kinds of cool foam (plus mentors, a big ol' library, and an enrichment 1-day school he attended on Fridays) - we made our way like a 3-legged dog through the year. Consistent with Reading, Phonics, Writing, and Math and shooting in the dark with the rest. (We began and stopped with many topics, textbooks, and projects that turned out just not to fit us.)

At 7, Bear still struggles with left and right. The only switch hitter on his T-Ball team, you can be sure. The reading/writing is an uphill struggle that does, occasionally, get the best of us. There are days (weeks) that I wonder if we shouldn't let the experts step in and implement the exercises that are helping him map his way. But those months he got the special ed help while in Kindergarten remain some of his least favorite memories.

So we've pushed on.

I wasn't sure, at all, that I hadn't done more harm than good. So I spent a week giving him standardized tests. As it turns out, shockingly, he's learned everything Illinois would like him to know for first grade. In fact, in Math he's doing 3rd grade Geometry.

I'm absolutely gobsmacked, in a good way. He was pretty confident all along.

This has been one of the most incredible years. I'm fairly certain that I have learned much more than he. And the biggest lesson has been that everything seems to present an opportunity to be curious. From listening to how Bobby McFerrin uses his voice to sound like different instruments to growing rock candy in a Dora the Explorer cup on the counter. And, in the end, precious if only because we got to just be with each other so much - all 3 of us, really. Learning and exploring and discovering.

In a few weeks, Bear will go to a little presentation thing and we'll tell him he's "officially" promoted out of First Grade. And tonight he gave a few second demonstration of his Karate (one more belt to black!) at an 'end of the year' homeschool gathering.

Which has all left Bear just about walking on air, proud of everything he's accomplished this year, and wanted everyone to know that, given the choice (again) between all his school options - he's choosing this homeschooling experiment for next year, and has some pretty lofty goals about it, too.

So he asked that I would tell everyone, that he's a second-grader now. And, proudly, I have.

New Rant over at the Chicago Moms Blog

May 01, 2008 | Category: Best Of

I am bitching and moaning in a new post over at the Chicago Mom's Blog.