Flashback Friday - Changes

I got carded a couple weeks ago. I don't feel old enough to be flattered by that, but I thought it was funny. (Especially since I was buying canned air at the time.) Later, as I was relating the experience to a colleague, she asked me how old I really was, and I honestly had to think about it for a second. Forgetfulness like that makes me feel too old:


My mom always says she's an 18-year-old living in an [insert real age here]-year-old body (I've been sworn to secrecy on this) and I think I her that more and more as time passes. Every once in a while something will happen like my baby brother gets his license, or I have a five-year high school reunion, or they start playing Chicago on the oldies station, and time slaps me upside the head because I haven't been paying it enough attention. Sometimes this makes me sad, sometimes I am proud, sometimes I feel nostalgic, and sometimes I get so excited I can barely hold it in. But it is always disconcerting.

That's why I love, love, love, this picture:


This is a picture me at eighteen months. But let's be honest, besides the height difference (one of the few times it's actually noticeable--yay!) this could have been taken today. Matching sweats? Check. Wild and crazy hair? Check. Kicking back in the office? Check. Lunch at my desk? Check. (I even had ravioli today.) This reminds me that while change is inevitable (except from a vending machine), some things--hopefully the best things, the essentials--don't have to change too much. (Also that I have been prepping for this job for over two decades.)

Fun facts:

• I was born partially deaf in one ear and have never regained full hearing. This made me speak with a lisp when I was younger, and while it has faded, I recall one home video in particular where I was trying to catch Shultze (a puppy named after Herbert Schultze by my Grandpa, a veteran who retired from the U.S. Navy as Chief Petty Officer. He recognized men of honor on both sides.), so I ran around yelling "Shul-thee! Shul-thee!" It's pretty cute, but I'm glad that's one thing that has changed (:
• I learned to read at a very young age and was reading Green Eggs and Ham out loud to my mom less than six months after this picture was taken. I've never stopped. (Reading in general, or Dr. Seuss in particular.)
• My grandma still has that booster seat. It's seen her through over twenty grandchildren and at least ten great-grandchildren.

Both these pictures remind me that even though I still cringe when I see Ian behind the wheel of his car, or think that I don't know enough to be a high school graduate, let alone have a Bachelor's degree, or vividly remember dancing around the house with my mom to her brand-new Chicago 17 cassette tape (probably even in those same purple sweats), I don't have to feel like I'm getting too old for any of those things.

Instead, like the namesakes of Bill Watterson's iconic duo, I can enjoy the faded, "70s" color of the past for what it was and be grateful for what it still is because "there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice."

And for the things that have changed, I can "take my [next] voyage. A great leap in the dark."

mars and venus in the bathroom

When I was young, my hair was pretty wavy. And instead of settling down, it's only gotten more and more contrarily curly as I've aged.

I've mounted all sorts of defenses in response:

• Blow dryers
• Paddle Brushes
• Round Brushes
• Curling Irons
• Flat Irons
• Hot Rollers
• Straightening Sprays
• Pomades
• Bobby Pins
• Clippy Claws
• Hats
• etc.

It's quite the ordeal.

So every once in awhile, I just take the "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" approach (aka "shake what your mama gave you") and pass on all the primping. The blow dryer takes a holiday and mother nature takes the wheel (with a little help from the AC when I was commuting to SLC) to result in something like this*:

It's very freeing.

Except one day, whilst I was waxing rhapsodies to my mother about my liberated state, my brother snidely remarked, "I wish you'd liberate some counter space in the bathroom while you're at it." (Because of course, you can't trust Mother nature before applying gel, mousse, and de-frizzing serum at the very least...)

*results not typical

Flashback Friday - Sick Leave

Flashback Friday apologizes for missing its usual post.

The author has been stricken with pneumonia and/or whooping cough (apparently it still exists.)

Flashback Friday will return on its regularly scheduled time next week.

Thank you, and good night.

Flashback Friday - Oh Canada

I'm on a business trip in Denver. My company is here exhibiting at a conference, and while I have worked several conferences over the years, the last time I exhibited at a conference was the summer of 2003 in Toronto. And the last time I was in Canada before that was when I lived there. So let's talk about Canada.

This is a picture of me when I was three. I loved that dress. We were getting family pictures taken and my mom took Tay and I to the store for new dresses. I had a total prima donna moment when I walked into the girls' section and saw this beauty sparkling on the rack. I begged my mom to let me get it but she said no. This was the first time I remember (at least consciously) the power of a temper tantrum...

A few months later, my mom and dad got a babysitter so they could go to the company Christmas party. I think I hated the babysitter, because I ran upstairs and put this dress on and begged my parents to take me with them. They said no. This was the second time I remember (at least consciously) the power of a temper tantrum. (This was also the time I discovered just how boring corporate schmoozing can be. I spent the entire night asleep in a chair in the hotel lobby.)

The next summer, the dress was too short, but I continued to wear the jacket with everything else I owned. One day, we were sitting outside next to a fountain. I started walking around the edge with my arm stretched out for balance. My mom said no. This was the third time I remember (at least consciously) the power of a temper tantrum. (This was also the time I earned the honorary middle name of "Grace." I started going faster and the next thing I knew I was sputtering to the surface in the middle of the fountain and my beautiful jacket was drenched in highly-chlorinated water.)

That dress and jacket combination saw me through a lot of "Grace" moments:

• My first broken bone. (I fell off the fire pole at the playground and broke my ankle.)
• My first crush. (I ran my brand-new bike into a tree trying to show off for him.)
• My first TWO sets of stitches. (I still have a dent in my head and a bump on my knee as proof.)
• My first marriage. (It ended amicably.)

Fun facts:

• We had an underground storage room in our living room. (It was great for reenacting Daniel and the Lions' Den. And Tom Sawyer. And Nancy Drew. (We were very well read (to).))
• We had AstroTurf instead of grass in our backyard. (We were the Brady Bunch.)
• We went to joy school where I remember learning how to spell "hippopotamus" and eating green eggs and ham on Dr. Seuss' birthday. (This was also where I met my first husband.)

camera shy

I spent some time in Vegas over the holiday weekend:

[insert lots of cool stuff here]

I own six cameras; I just counted. So you'd think I'd be a little better at documenting my adventures than two pictures...