What you doin' Sammy Jo?

(Carrie to Samantha, "Sex in the Country," SATC, Season 4)

Author's note: this post will make more sense if you're familiar with the HBO show "Sex and the City."

This past summer, I commented to both an old (long time and older in age) friend and my therapist that I sort of felt like Samantha. Their eyes bugged out until I explained that Sam is about 5-7 years older than Carrie, Miranda, and Charlotte. While people are forever asking if I'm a student, I've discovered again and again that a lot of my friends are 26, my sister's age. My two closest friends are five years younger and five years older. Well, most of the women my age (36, a month from 37) have children and houses. So two things: I don't meet them, because we run in different circles, and two: we don't necessarily have lifestyle similarities. That doesn't prevent friendships, since one of my dearest friends has the whole kit: three kids, two car garage, minivan. I have the additional weird factor of growing up (grammar school) overseas, I don't even have all the pop-culture pieces that distinguish the typical 36 year old woman in middle America. (Wherever that is.) I'm familiar with the shows that the 26 year olds watched, because I watched them with my sibs, who are now 25 and 26. I seem younger, because along with having great skin (thanks Mom!), I don't have kids, the house, the husband. I seem younger because I lost a lot of time spinning my wheels before my diagnosis. So I fit better with the 26 year olds, except that I have already voted in four presidential elections.

(That was a ramble...) The other thing about Samantha, something I aspire to, is her non-judgmental sensibility. In SATC-TM, Sam is the one who comes with food to a depressed and sleeping Carrie, who has slept through at least a day and a half.

Carrie: "I'm tired."
Samantha: "That's okay, eat something, then you can go back to sleep."

Sam doesn't want children, but is kind of the mother hen out of the four women. (Miranda may be a mother, but she is NOT maternal, except to Brady, and Charlotte wants a child, but she's actually the youngest of the four and it sometimes shows. No one could make any sort of case for Carrie being maternal.) Because I've seen the entire series more times than I'd like to admit, I have certain portions memorized, and other portions that come to the surface when I need them. If only I had the same diligence with my Beth Moore homework or memorizing Bible verses...

For whatever reason, the conversation that came to mind tonight as I drove home was between Carrie and Samantha in "All or nothing" (Season 3, episode 40). After a house-warming at Samantha's new apartment, Carrie stays to help Samantha clean up. She tells Samantha she's having an affair with Big (Carrie is dating Aidan, Big is married to Natasha.)

Carrie: "Don't you want to judge me a little?"
Samantha: "Not my style."

*****

I voted today. As an election worker, I can usually leave my post where I work to drive half a mile to vote where I vote. But there are no guarantees concerning next Tuesday, (don't forget to vote!) so I drove downtown this morning, on the last day you could apply for an absentee ballot. First, I went to the Federal Building. FAIL! Then I drove across town to the City/County Building, and went into the wrong building. FAIL! The entire time, in my mind was an unhealthy tape, that I should vote for the other candidate, it was the "accepted" thing to do according to "everyone." Boy is that inner voice dangerous. When I go that black and white and start naming "everyone" as the boss of me, it's usually one or two people that have judged me. Fortunately, when I got the paper ballot, my candidate was the first name I saw and it was as if it was the only name I saw, I filled in that bubble with my blue pen--I voted!! We had a referendum--Should we go into debt to clean up the water? Um, yes, let's please be healthy. That's a worthy thing to go into debt for.

At the end of the day, I called Bird (my sister) and crowed, I voted!! I just needed to tell someone! And be excited about it!! I got her voice mail, but crow I did! I've never been this excited about an election, but the act of voting itself was pretty mundane, standing in the City/County building with people who were going to be in Florida next week. I told Sally when I got to Bible Study this morning, but she knew that's why I was late, and I just mouthed the words, as the Beth Moore video had already commenced.

As for my Web 2.0 life, today I emailed, twittered, DM'd (Direct Message on Twitter), chatted on gmail with my boss about coming in late because my back was doing crazy things, and chatted on gmail with a friend while I was warming up to finish the pile of Dewey number checks. Oh, and I'm blogging! And I forwarded some blog links to my dad and a few friends. How grateful I am for technology. This morning before I left the house, I called my dad, because I wasn't feeling so hot physically or mentally. I needed coffee, and a hug. Before we hung up, my dad prayed for me, which I so needed--I needed to hear someone ask God to bless me. How I adore that man.

So all in all, a day well lived. I learned from my boss that if she is called as a reference for me, (no, I don't have news) she can't tell them about my health. It's illegal. I am grateful that I am able to be honest with her, and she encourages me to no end, but she knows that it is time for me to move on, when the right job comes my way. What a blessing she is. I went for dinner at the fancy restaurant at the bottom of the hill because I needed a little Sabbath. I can't take time off right now, but I can do little things, like have Bleu cheese dressing instead of my usual choice, Ranch.

Day is done. Gone the sun. How do the rest of the words go? Well, it's nearly eleven o'clock and Wee willy winky is I'm sure asleep by now, so I suppose I should tuck in too. I have a whole bunch of kids to sing to tomorrow morning.

G'nite. It's been nice writing to you, dear reader. You do put a smile on my face.

Sarah Louise has a pity party and you're not invited...

Oh, yes you are! Come on in, bring a hankie!

Let's see, I went to get antibiotics for the sinus infection, and whilst at the Big Bird (Giant Eagle) I bought a Vidalia onion and the latest copy of People, you know with Jenna Bush as a blushing bride on the cover. It's enough to make an old maid like me sing Johnny Cash (cry, cry, cry, and I don't mean the onion!) (I know I'm not an old maid, don't put that in the comments...)

Today was the last Mother Goose of the session and first I rammed the cart over my foot (ouch) and then while closing the room dividers, crunched my fingertips (ouch and double triple ouch). I know some of the kids I won't see again, cause they'll graduate to Kangaroo (for kids 24-36 mos.), or I'll be in Queens, or both...and I love my kiddies, I really do. When we sit there and sing

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray, you'll never know dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away,"

I think you. You are my sunshines, every dear child and mother or father or grandma. I almost got one of the Sally's that I work with (not to be confused with NH Sally) to take a picture of me doing MG this morning but thought maybe that was too sentimental and foolish.

There's a line from Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg (which is stacked under some pile of books at the moment) where Natalie writes about a restaurant she and her friends started after college, and how they knew that it didn't matter how thick or thin they sliced the vegetables, it mattered that they cared about what they were doing, and that that was what came through to the customers, that was the secret ingredient in the recipe. I often think about that when I do my Mother Goose sessions--they don't care if I get the words right or if I'm sitting on the floor or on a chair. They can tell that I adore them and I adore what I'm doing.

Sigh. A line that has been resonating with me from Emotionally Healthy Spirituality: "Resurrection only comes out of death--real death. Our losses are real."

I went for a walk this evening, just at dusk, around 8:30 here--I love that I live so West that it is still light so late, and it's only May. (When I talk to my dad, I'll say, oh, it's still light and he'll say, oh it's been dark a half hour already.) And I grieved some things. I grieved not knowing if I'll ever be a blushing bride (and yes, there's more to it than Jenna Bush as a blushing bride, but you know I don't always fully disclose). I cried. I wept, as I walked up Ferguson, past the house where I bought my $4 desk. Past houses with "Unstoppable" Penguins signs and "Go Pens!" signs. I grieved. I grieved. I grieved.

And as I turned onto Jackson, I realized that a) I'm extremely hormonal right now. b) I have a lot of unresolved things in my life, they are choosing to manifest themselves in this lack of romantic self esteem c) I need to take a chill pill. The fact that Max is no longer totally gaga over me, that no one is right now, does not discount the fact that he was, that men have in the past been gaga over me, and furthermore, God, the creator of heaven and earth, is gaga over me, my name is graven on his palm.

When I got home, as I unplugged my cell phone from where I had been charging it, my land line rang. And wouldn't you know, it was NH Sally. Who is one of the most down to earth people I know. Which can be annoying if you're in the depths of despair, because she is a real Marilla type. Marilla, as in Anne of GG: no sense worrying over spilt milk and stuff. Wow, I'd never made that connection until now. But it's true. Sally is very often the Marilla to my Anne of GG.

Speaking of Marilla and Anne, Marian's hair is red right now. It's lighter daily, as it washes out, but the first couple of days it was (in her words, not mine) like she was Carrot Top's sister.

Sally and I talked for a bit, and then she had to go and so I called Bird. Who is Anne of GG right there with me. I shared with her that someone I used to know is getting married soon, and that triggered something too, I'm sure.

And I don't have plans for Memorial Day. I'm going to spend Saturday night and Sun day down near Somerset with Sally and family and some Bellefielders, come back for church Sunday evening, and then Monday, which is my regular day to go to doctors and such...well, no one works on Memorial day except for the ticket tearers and the popcorn boys, so I'm going to the movies. I know, sacrilege, I was never an Indiana Jones fan (probably due only to the fact that I never got around to seeing them, may have seen part of the first one, but I would like to see Iron Man. Or Made of Honor. Or...I haven't been to the movies in a LONG time.

Okay, and it was 9:58, so I just watched David Cook become the American Idol. And it was so wonderful watching him sing, walk into the crowd, pull David Archuleta into the spotlight, to see them all arm in arm at the end. I DID NOT watch the two hour finale, just the last five minutes, and I'm sorry, but it was really heartwarming.

The weather today was like my mood swings--sunny, then rainy, then cloudy and cold, then sunny, then rainy, then sunny--no, I think the weather had more mood swings than me--welcome to Pittsburgh!!

I'm outta here!!! (I'm such a geek.)