What's going on with you this weekend?
I'll be having lunch at Cheeseburger in Paradise with both of my college kids plus the one at home and Jorge, the Hunky Husband. We are all celebrating my son's 19th birthday, although the actual d.o.b. is March 8th (also International Women's Day, which causes my son, Jordan, to conclude that he must be God's gift to women all over the world.) He's just joking, of course. Because we all know that I, the mom, am the woman he was given to on March 8th, 1989, and he's mine until he walks the church aisle. Moms of boys, can I get an "Amen!"?
We are celebrating early because College Daughter is going to England next week with a school group. I've kind of been ignoring this whole trip thing for a while now, lending the same credibility to the idea as I did to her threats to run away when she was little ("M-hmm. Take care now; better pack some crackers.") But the reality is sinking in ... she's flying across an ocean. She's going to a huge city. She sent me her itinerary last week. I was doing pretty well worry-wise until my eyes fell on one sight-seeing plan: The Jack the Ripper Tour. Greaaaat.
For about the last six times I've talked to her, I've said, "DO NOT turn your back on your drink or food in public." She says, "I know, Mom; I promise I won't." Then I say, "Good." But do I stop there? No. It is impossible for me to stop there. I am compelled to add, "Because you know what happened to Natalie Holloway."
In the grand tradition of my mother, Lucille, I am the current reigning champ of spreading anxiety and suspicion. I am a human fear atomizer, dispersing dire warnings and dreaded consequences like the spray from a sneeze. The Pig Pen of angst.
Gee, who wouldn't love to have a fun birthday lunch with me?
Other weekend stuff:
Attention, LOSTIES (spoiler alert):
First of all, does anyone else see the resemblance between Barry Gibb, Eric Clapton and Desmond? Weird.
But now let's get serious. In the words of my friend, Cindy, who turned me on to LOST:
Well, my mind can’t stop reeling from last night’s episode. I think that was one of the most revealing ever! I know you may not believe it, but for a long time, I’ve had a suspicion that it was Penelope’s dad that was behind the evil deeds of the island. I can’t help but wonder now how he fits into it all! If he was buying artifacts from the Black Rock in 1995, how involved might he be? Is this the discovery of mind/time travel?
"I think 'tis, Brotha, aye, 'tis."
Jorge has been suspecting Penny's dad, as well.
That's why I like to surround myself with smart people--I was suspecting Plankton from Sponge Bob. (Well, he is an evil genius.)
Actually, I cannot be distracted by deciphering what's going on. I am still reeling from Aaron and Kate. No other story lines are as interesting to me as those of the initial small cast of survivors.
I did crack up out loud this morning, though, when Amy of Sings, Miracles and Wonders asked me if I would be her "time travel constant." I'm not sure, but I think I got one of those crazy Leap Day proposals. I said yes, so I think it's pretty much official for Amy and me.
Finally, 'dja ever notice that when people die on LOST, they look way dead. Even Eloise the Rat deserves an Emmy for her portrayal of "death by time travel." She's good--really good.
"What's my motivation here? Oh, I see, I'm traveling back and forth in time, but I have no 'constant', so my brain is short circuiting? Got it. I'll just do the old 'dead rat in pink light baring little rat teeth' scene."
*Next post: The winner of the Skinny Songs CD!*