I've come to the realization lately that I spend a whole hell of a lot of time sitting around thinking about how awesome things used to be. It's so easy to do that, isn't it? To only remember the awesome things from the past and especially when things in the present aren't exactly as I would want them to be.  So instead of wishing for something that I only partially remember, I'm going to have to start creating as much good stuff in the present as I can.

Again, I know I must sound so ridiculous, but for me, the only way I can ever hope to hold myself accountable to anything is to say it outloud.

My resolutions from January have been going about the same as the last time I cared to mention them. TV viewing is not getting out of control, I've been trying to spend as much time with the kids as I can (and I've had some extra time given Spring Break on my own). Book reading is up thanks to the Hunger Games trilogy and my making has been on the increase due to the fact that I've committed myself to an arts festival in May. Eating and excersing are really nothing to write home about for now. But having the farmers market back in full-swing is helping a lot. Correspondence is tricky. This is where I might get bogged down in nostalgia. Trying not to do that. And snarkiness is hopefully being kept in-check. I've been super good at not looking at news (and comments) that I know will do nothing but get me riled up. That has helped a lot.

So I think I still have a manageable list of things that I need to keep in-check and to keep working on. Adding one to be mindful of making the present as good as it can possibly be, and not spending a lot of time wistfully considering the fairly recent past, is not going to kill me. In fact, I think it can only help.

I know quite a few people who, for various reasons, find themselves alone for periods of time without their spouses around, and I don't really know how they manage not to go insane.

For the second time this month, I'm home with the kids while Brendan is not. First, over Spring Break he went to San Francisco for a conference for four days. Don't get me wrong, I had fun hanging out with the kids and taking a break from working, but it was exhausting. Last night, he left again for a camping trip with the Muskoxen. He'll be back tomorrow, and it's not like today was hard on me or anything (the kids had been sick but they are better now and both went off to their usual school and daycare today).

The evenings are always a bit harder for me. I find myself wishing I had a pal to hang out with. Locally, there really isn't anyone. I do have friends, they just live hours away. I'm sure I've mentioned before that I am really awful at meeting people. I've (sort of) tried and it's never quite clicked. Having kids has actually made it harder. I over-think it, I know.

Wah, wah, wah. I actually feel bad being all angsty about this stuff. There are people with real problems and here I am all melancholy because my husband went on a trip with his BFFs for a day and a half? Jesus. What a hard life I have.

That being said, I think I shall go somewhere by myself. Alone. Maybe see some damn art. 

OK, so Jess was going to write about this, but I've beaten her to it. She's in the shower, washing off the stink that is a day of travelling.

The day started off well enough. We both went to work, our bags were packed, and we were going to leave from the office. Fine.

Except that in my rush to leave the office, I happened to forget the laptop. Didn't find out I left it until a coworker called me as we were pulling into the airport. We thought about turning around, but then decided just to leave it. It ended up that another coworker that lives near the airport (which is about 40 minutes away from the office), was willing to come and drop it off. Excellent. We didn't even have to wait that long. By the time we checked our bags and walked to find a snack, she was there.

Awesome. Our trip just had its snag, and it was over before the trip even began.

But that was just the beginning.

The flight was fine. We even got in 30 minutes early. Except that we had to wait another 20 or so for our luggage to come on the belt.

So as we're waiting, we think we see one of our bags coming. Until some old guy, who is completely disheveled, decides that it's his bag. He grabs it, checks the ticket, says, "Yup," and proceeds to high-tail it out of the airport. I think, "Well, he checked the ticket, said, 'Yup,' and walked out, so it must not have been our bag." Jess was insisting that the guy stole our bag. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

But it was our bag.

We get our other bag and are waiting and waiting for the big one to come off. No dice. So we finally give up and head into the baggage office. As we're in there waiting in line, I turn around and see the guy. He's now carting another bag, A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT COLORED BAG, out, and there's ours sitting by the baggage belt.

Nice.

But we're still ahead of schedule, so I'm happy.

We have no problems getting the rental car, and head for the hotel. Then the ray of sunshine:

THERE'S A SONIC PRACTICALLY IN THE HOTEL PARKING LOT!!!!

Now, Jess and I LOVE Sonic. More than words can express at this particular moment. I can't tell you what I would do at any given time for a cherry limeade. Perfect.

So we check in. No problems. Literally drop our stuff off in the room and head for the Sonic.

More issues.

All we want is a little snack and some cherry limeades. Shouldn't be a big deal, right? Just a small popcorn chicken and some cheese fries. Evidently this was a big deal for them. It took 15 minutes or so to get our order. Was the order ok? No. We got Cokes instead of cherry limeades, my cheese fries must have been out for an hour before they brought them to us, and they completely left out the dipping sauce for the chicken.

So after we finally got the limeades, we headed back to the room. It's now 2:30 in the morning to us (11:30 out here), and we're completely exhausted from the day. Hopefully we got all the snags in one day. Updates to come if we didn't.

UPDATE: We were awoken at 3:00 AM by what had to be either a prostitute or an actress, because the woman in the room next to us should win an academy award. I've never heard anyone moan and scream like that. We had to turn the TV on to drown it out.

Then the alarm went off at 3:30.

Originally, the plan was to pick up Keith and Gail in Rome, give Vince one phone and then meet up with him in Pompeii. That of course, didn't happen.

Since the car is practically the only place where there is any air conditioning, everyone in the backseat falls asleep.

Once we arrive, we take out the cell phones. Vince still hasn't called. One phone through a freak series of button presses locked itself and became unusable. The other has no time left, there isn't even enough money left on it to call and add more money! We decide that the way this trip is going, we'll just run into him in the ruins. Since we just ran into Keith and Gail at the airport, and somehow found Pepino. Plus, hell, we're in freaking Pompeii!

The old city is pretty much just in the middle of the current city of Pompeii. There's just a big fence around it. Before we even get our tickets a guy at gate tries to be our guide. Basically tells us we're fools for going it alone.



We took an insane amount of pictures in Pompeii, but there is so much to see here.









There were some places where you could wander around in the ruins, and some more intricate homes with paintings on the walls, and columns in the courtyards that you couldn't walk in. Mostly it was just like any city, with tenements and wealthy sections, bars, entertainment venues. It's just eerily quiet and still dusty. There were moments when I felt like the volcano had just erupted. But maybe that was just the heat. I did get a little sick and dehydrated because of it. There were practically no trees, just dust and stone.

We did have a few things on our itinerary to see:



The forum with Mt. Vesuvius in the background.



The ampitheater.



The gates to the city.



Petrified body.



Stadium.

There were these dogs that roamed around and a couple of them had taken up residence in the governor's house. Gail went up to one of them, that seemed to be blind in one eye, and as she got close and reached out her hand to pet it (it was a huge St. Bernard looking dog) it barked and snapped and almost got her. (Unfortunately, no pictures of the dogs.)

Once we were finished with the city, we walked around outside of the fences looking for Vince. But nothing. What else could we do? We decided to go back home, and figure out something then.

Sorry, you'll have to wait the recap of day 4 to find out what happened to Vince!

Since we did not meet up with Vince as planned in Pompeii, we had to come up with an alternate plan. We knew that he and Kate will be at the chapel meeting with the priest at some point in the day.



We knew what the Hall of Justice chapel looks like and the name (San Pietro) so we set off to try and find it in Positano proper. However, we can't find it or anyone who knows where it is!

We also knew that the rehersal dinner (although no there is no official rehersal) tonight. But had no idea where that was, either -- not even the name of the restaurant. What we do know is the name of the hotel where the wedding reception is going to be, so we head from Positano to the hotel. The concierge does not know how to reach Vince and Kate but he does have the wedding planner's card. At least we have something (although still no phone that works). As we are walking out of the hotel to the car the van containing Vince, Kate and Kate's family drives by!

So they stop and we find out that they thought we were meeting at the train station in Pompeii. They were there all day waiting for us. For eight hours they waited. They were even at both stations at either end of Pompeii.



We also learn that the chapel is on the road between Priaino and Positano and that we drive by it all the time!



It just blends in well. The chapel is the top square of the ivy covered building. (EDIT: No it's not) From here, you can see the church in Priaino and perhaps the house we stayed in (although I'm not sure now which one it may be). You can also get a sense of how long our walk to the beach was -- at least using the full version of the photo -- if you look across the balcony on the backside of the chapel hotel, you can see some little buildings built into the rocks. Just below them is the beach.

We decide that Vince will come back with us after dinner at Da Enzos tonight. Actually, the restaurant is called Cucina Casareccia da Vincenzo, but we find it just fine.



Dinner is so good. There's just tons of food; it just keeps coming. At some point there was a scramble for Lactaid for Keith but he tells that story much better than I ever could.

After dinner, we all drive in the McGinley Euro-van to our car which is parked way on the other side of town. We take Vince all the way down the miles of stairs to the apartment to drop off his stuff (or maybe some of us do and some of us stay at the top of the hill, I can't recall). At any rate, we all end up at the Bar Del Sol where hang out for a while. Then we go back for lemoncello.

This is where things get interesting. Most of these quotes were from this night, Vince's big night. We all drank a whole lot, and lord knows I said some pretty dumb things, but Vin really had a rough night. His wedding was the next day, but not until 6 so he was fine by then.

Most of the funny stuff happened just after this happened:



Vince came out of the all in one bathroom soaking wet and in this heavy, fake Italian accent said:

"Uno, I fell asleep on the toilet. Due, I turned the shower on myself because I thought I [sic] was the doorknob."

and then:
"I didn't say 'Doot Doot' and think I was the doorknob!"

and then:
"...and then the shower was spuh --- itting on me..."

Poor Vince.

I'm splitting day 8 into two posts since there's two separate stories to tell. What happened before we left Praiano, and then our afternoon in Rome.



It's just about time to leave Praiano. Take one last look of those views...

While Keith and Brendan pack the car, Geoff, Gail and I go to the market for one last time to get some water and snacks for the ride to Rome. The old man at the market makes sure to say goodbye. In retrospect, he is very thurough in his check that we are really leaving town for good.

Then once I get back to the car, I realize that I forgot the lemoncello. We cannot leave without that. So I go back to the store (alone) to pick up a few bottles. "Bella," the old man says. "You're back!"

"Lemoncello," I say.

"Come," he says looking at me waving his arms, like he wants to give me a hug. No big deal I think, we was a helpful guy this week. He was nice to all of us. So I go over, bottles in hand to give him a little hug. Next thing I know I'm getting kissed on the mouth, he's got one hand on my ass and the other on my right boob. Blech. I still get grossed out and can still feel it, in all it's whiskery hideousness every single time I tell the story. He was such a sweet old man, and now, forever in my memory he's a stereotypical Italian perv.

As I pushed him off of me I realize, the whole town is in the store seeing all of this happen. And then, I've got to wait in line to pay for the lemoncello, because I'll be damned if this stops me from taking some home. So I stand in line for what seems like and eternity to pay old man's wife. She gives me this mean look like I was the one who did something wrong. I just wanted to yell at her and say, "Listen, it was your husband who did that, not me!"

So when I got back to the car I said, "Don't ever make me go back there. Ever." Then I proceeded to tell everyone what just happened and they laughed and laughed. I just kept drinking water and occasionally getting disgusted...

Blech.

We've had a ridiculous amount of rain. Ridiculous. 

Last night, I was sitting at a PTA meeting at school, which was of course running long, waiting for the conversation about where people should stand to pick up their children after school when my phone rang. I saw that it was Brendan but figured that he was just wondering why I wasn't home yet - 45 minutes after the meeting was supposed to be over. My phone wasn't catching much of a signal, so I let it go. And then I immediately got a text. So I walked out of the meeting to look at it.

 

Not exactly the best text to receive. As I walked outside, the rain was coming down seriously hard. Roads were flooding. Our street was full of water - it was almost over the curb. I came home to find our basement carpet soaking wet, all the electronics up off the floor (phew) and everything moved away from the exterior walls.

Poor Brendan was outside bailing out our one window well with a pink beach bucket. I took over and he went to the store fingers crossed that they'd still have something to help solve our problem. Water was just pouring in the window well from underground. It simply had no place else to go (we have gotten somewhere around 12-15 inches of rain the last 24 hours!). Thankfully, Bren was able to pick up a sump pump and get it working so we didn't have to bail all night. 

There's no school, and no daycare today. Hopefully there's very little in the way of rain.

Bridget starts school on Tuesday. She's thrilled about it. I know that she'll do great. I'm not worried about her making friends, or riding the bus, or anything else. No, I'm worried about me having to meet other parents. This afternoon at lunch time we've got a playdate thing at the school where all the new kindergarteners are invited. 

I'm sitting here getting all nervous and worked up at the prospect of having to talk to another parent. I'm forcing myself to just do it. Because honestly, the thing that I am really afraid of is silly - I'm afraid of just standing there looking like an idiot having no one to talk to. 

It's ironic really, because more often than not, I end up putting my foot into my (giant) mouth. It's guaranteed that I'll offend someone. It's high time that I just embrace that, and look for the other mom who's laughing at the offended person and be friends with HER. 

Bridget has gotten into her "story tapes". Brendan had some cassette/books from when he was a kid, but only a few with both the storybook and tape that match up. The other day on eBay, he came across an auction of some tapes and books some of which we had the book and not the tape and vice versa, plus some new ones that we didn't have yet -- like Mary Poppins.

They came today. And in a really awesome yellow suitcase case to boot. Now she's got the matching tape for It's a Small World and Alice in Wonderland. In addition to the aforementioned Mary Poppins, the other new set was Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby.

According to the Wikipedia article:

"The phrase is considered by most Americans to be an ethnic slur. However, since most Americans have never heard the phrase and have no knowledge of its origins, it is ludicrous to make this assertion."

 

I guess if Wikipedia says it's not racist, it must be true? It just doesn't quite sit well with me for whatever reason. I feel like we should give it a listen to hear how bad it sounds. And then get rid of it. Maybe sell it and then donate the money.

Ideas?

********

And... I listened to it. The story itself is not so bad: Rabbit escapes from Fox and Bear. But the tape, oh the tape.  Since the story is from Song of the South, the tape sounds pretty much like the SNL skit.

I had to go and mention that John is a pretty good sleeper because all hell has broken loose. Last night it was party time at 1:30am until oh, 4:30 or so. Normally on a Friday morning, this wouldn't be so bad because I could sleep in; however, today we had to go for his 4 month checkup. So now he's cranky because he's overtired, teething and had shots today. It's been full of awesome. I was hoping he'd just pass out and sleep all morning, but alas, it was not meant to be. He's finally settled down and sleeping in his crib. Hopefully that will last more than 20 minutes.