Let's Do 52 ~ Week 8 {Simplicity}

It was not simple to get her hair styled like this.

It was not simple to get her to take a picture with her hair styled like this.

It was not simple to make her understand that because she wasn't feeling well, she really needed to take a nap.

Seeing that exquisite face and knowing that it was now time to click the shutter could not, however, have been simpler.

The End.

200

This is my 200th post.

And for my 200th post, I wanted to do something significant.  Something to really mark the occasion. 

I've written a lot of things.  I've shared a lot of images.  I've seen how the entire thing has morphed and changed into something I never thought it would be, going in a direction that I never thought it would go.

As I prepared for this 200th post, I kept thinking about all of the stories that constantly run through my head.  

Stories about Prince Charming. 

Stories about my kids.

My latest Project 52 shot.

None of them really felt "200 worthy".  But, there were a lot of things that I wanted to say and I kept pushing them aside in search of something much more meaningful.  

It got to be kind of a thing and I started to get kind of frustrated with it.

So, in the end, I've decided to just say this:

I love writing on this blog.

I love the outlet that it provides for me.  The chance to create magic and poetry and art and, yes, I know, sometimes garbage.  But, it's all me.  And I love the opportunity to get it out there.

I have no idea if it makes any sense, although I hope it does.

I have no idea if it's reaching anyone, although I hope it is.

And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, how very much I appreciate you for continuing to come back and go through all of this with me.  

Thank you.  

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Image inspired by Christine Dibble Photography...

and when I say 'inspired by', I mean a total and complete

replica because her image was so cool that I just had to try it for myself....

just so that's clear....

Sending you all of my love and devotion,

Lisa  

(Now that seems 200-worthy)

Dream Sequence

I'm walking down a sidewalk.  Even though I've never consciously been on this street, I know where I am and where I am going.  There are no people.  There are no cars.  There is nothing.  It is quiet.

I am alone, yet not at all fearful.  I keep walking.  I turn a corner.  All of the three-story buildings that line the roads around me are closed.  The storefronts abandoned, though whether only for the night or forever is unclear.  Their grayish brown exteriors make the light close in around me.  It is getting dark.

I need to get moving.  I have things to do.

I am aware that a woman has taken up steps behind me.  She is not following me and I am not afraid of her.  Without turning to look, I know who she is.  She makes no noise as her movements mirror mine.  Her hand is  tightly closed on the bag she carries over her shoulder.  I tilt my chin towards my left to glance back at her.  I see her long dark hair.  I know who she is.

I turn forward again and step down off the curb.  The place that I am going is across the street.  I move that direction and she follows me.  I step up on the other side and move straight for the door to the shop in front of me.   I pull it open and walk through.   There is hardly a place to stand among the crowd inside.  I find an open spot and stop, folding my hands in front of me.

A man to the side of me greets a server coming to him from the back of the store.  She is carrying a tray and I turn to look.  It is lined with overlapping, small, brown paper sacks, each painted with the same purple and pink character design.  I am pleased at seeing them.  I know mine will look equally as good.

"Thank you," he says as he accepts the tray.

As I shift forward again, I see the dark haired woman who was following me.  She is seated on a couch next to where I am standing.  She is looking at me.  I hold her gaze, unmoving.  The noise around us falls away until I hear nothing but her.

"This isn't what I wanted for you," I say.

I bring my right arm across my chest and place my hand over where my heart lies beneath.  I pat it gently as I slowly shake my head.  The corners of my mouth turn down and tears fill my eyes. 

"This isn't what I wanted for you," I say again.

"I know," she says.

I drop my hand back down to my side.  She looks around the room.  She looks back at me.

"It's just so hard," she says.

I turn up the corner of my mouth and cock my chin a bit.  I slowly shake my head again.

"This isn't going to make it easier," I say.

I don't feel like she hears me.  I don't feel like she knows what I am trying to tell her.  I know so much more than she does, yet I can't make her understand.  She just keeps looking at me blankly.  Her face betraying nothing.

"This isn't going to make it easier," I say again.

We stay connected through our eyes as the others in the store move around us.  The silence of their presence wraps around my mind and I know there is nothing more I can do.

I wake up.

I wake up knowing exactly who I was talking to and exactly what we were talking about.  It all makes perfect sense and for the first time in my life,

I wonder if someone else just had the same dream.

The ABC's of Party Planning

For my daughter's 6th birthday, Prince Charming wanted to throw her a party at Chuck E. Cheese.  There were three things standing in the way of this plan:

A.  My daughter HATES Chuck E. Cheese!  The character, not the restaurant.  She could live at the restaurant, so long as she NEVER has to see Chuck E.  He freaks her out.

B.  It's not an inexpensive undertaking.

C.  We'd probably have to invite the whole class because every party we've every gone to there has included the whole class, which, just, well....it's a lot...of people.  And I have terrible anxiety about being around large groups of people and then having to talk to them.   It's the anti-social in me.

Then I found this really cool blog from a photographer that I follow.  She threw her daughter, who, coincidentally is the same age as mine, a Rock Star party.  It was soooooo way cool. Soooooo way inspiring.

I showed it to my Girlie.  I made three mistakes in doing so:

A.  She totally loved it and wanted to do it right away.

B.  We'd have to have it at our house.

C.  We'd probably have to invite the whole class because every party we've ever been to has included the whole class, which, just, well....it's a lot...of people.  And I have terrible anxiety about being around large groups of people and then having to talk to them.  It's the uber anti-social in me.

I decided to just go through the motions of planning this thing, figuring that she'd forget about it and we'd wind up blindfolding her and heading to Chuck E. Cheese.

"Are you getting stuff for my Rock Star party today?"
"What about my Rock Star party?"
"Can I invite Nathan to my Rock Star party?"
"I want to play this song at my Rock Star party!"
"What should I wear to my Rock Star party?"

Clearly, she was not going to forget about this.  I had not choice but to motor forward.  I went to the ultimate party planning machine for help ~ My mother.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do:

A.  We're going to move all the furniture out of the house."

What?

"B.  Then we're going to rent small tables for people to sit at."

Wait.  Why are we moving everything out then bringing in rented tables?

"C.  Because we are."

Okay.  I understand.

I started telling Prince Charming the plan.

"We're going to move all the furniture out of the house and bring..."

"What?  Why are we doing that?"

"Because we are."

"This is a 6-year-old's birthday party.  How many people are you thinking are going to be here?"

I have since learned that the proper answer to this question is not "Between 30 and 40, including your skating party friend, Frank.".  No.  The only thing that answer is good for is inciting a riot with the confines of your relationship that can only be pacified by a three-martini minimum.  The proper answer to this question comes in three forms:

A.  Zero

B.  Just us and my parents.

C.  No one

And sometimes I throw in a D. which is 147, just to watch him freak out.  It's kinda' fun. 

"Well, we have that broken tile on the kitchen floor.  I don't want a bunch of people in here walking all over it.  It'll just get worse."

Okay.  I can problem solve that one.  We can:

A.  Ignore it.

B.  Well, then fuck this fucking game!

or, and I know this is going to sound radical, but just go with me for a second...

C.  We could FIX IT!

I'm no longer sharing any of the party plans with Prince Charming.  My mother and I are just doing it.  Just....that's just it.

We've:

A.  Designed and sent out invitations via my daughters awesome Rock Star Party website, and collected the resulting RSVPs.

B.  Laid awake all night worrying about how all of this was going to come together in such a short time and what if no one wants to come or RSVPs and then doesn't show up and how are we going to lay this all out and what if it doesn't all get done in time?  

That part was probably just me, though. I don't think my mom did that.

C.  Built a floor plan for all the activities

D.  Come up with, what I think is, a very parent and kid friendly menu that you wouldn't see at every party.

E.  Built a rockin' play list, which now has to include the Throw Down version of "I Wanna' Dance With Somebody".

F.  Begun shopping for and organizing all of the supplies, treats, goodies and party doings, which he then saw laid out on the table.  

"What's all this?"

"It's the stuff my mom got for the party."

"Oh.  It's cute.  The kids will really like that."

And then he says,

"You know, we really have to figure out how many people are going to be here so we know how much pizza to get."

Hi.  Have we met?  I'm in charge here.  Yeah.  This party?  Mine.

"We're not having pizza."

"Oh. We're not?  I thought it was a pizza party."

"It was never a pizza party."

"It wasn't?  What are we having then?"

My three possible responses to this were:

A.  I've decided not to serve food.

B.  A pasta salad, a spinach salad, a tray of hi-rollers from Cos...("Oh, is that why you were looking at those the other day?"), a variety of chips and dips, veggie cups, a bunch of popcorn/goldfish/pretzel snack bowls, mini-cupcakes, Cake Pops, and I need to get one those machines, by the way, a small candy bar, party punch and some soda.

C.  Stop asking questions.  Put the party planner down and back away.

Judging from his response of "You think kids are gonna' like that?" ,I think you can probably guess which answer I gave him.

It was the spinach salad and hi-rollers that did it.

Never, ever, EVER give him the details of a party until the last minute when it's all put together and everything looks great and they're wondering how you did all yourself and aren't they lucky to have someone as fabulous as you to plan their 6-year-old's Rock Star birthday parties.

It's going to be great.  I've got three days to finish it all up.  My daughter is totally excited.  Her cousins are totally excited.  Her friends are totally excited.  Her grandparents are totally excited.  And when party time comes, I'm sure that Prince Charming will be totally excited, too.

Especially since everyone is dressing up as Rock Stars, and I'm making him come as Jon Bon Jovi.

Hello, Hot Rock Star?  It's me, Madonna Wannabe.

It's gonna' be either:

A.  AWESOME!

B.  ROCKIN'!

C.  The Best Party She's Ever Had

Any, and all of which, will be fine with me.

The Not-Nearly-Wed Team Wins Again!

The Really Wed v. Nearly Wed Game

Valentine Edition 2K12

Based on the 'Live! with Kelly' Newlywed Game segment, pitting Jerry O'Connell
 (aka Verno from Stand By Me) and his real-life wife Rebecca Romijn
against some random engaged couple that won some random wedding giveaway after
Regis left the show.  I watched it last week while I was busy not creating my great

Valentine Photo Expo of 2012.

I pre-answered this series of questions, then asked Prince Charming for 

his answers while we were driving to the beach house last weekend.  

One point for every matching answer.

Question #1

Do you have a nickname for your significant other?

PRINCE CHARMING:  Ummm, a nickname?  Let's see....I call you Mama.
ME:  Oh.  I said your nickname for me is 'Lower Lombar'.
PRINCE CHARMING:  I was gonna' say 'Lower Lombar' but I thought it was stupid.
ME:  It is.

Question #2

Where did your 1st significant kiss take place?

PRINCE CHARMING:  On the floor of my living room in front of the fireplace.
ME:  What!?!  NO!
PRINCE CHARMING:  Yeah, it was.
ME:  We started dating in the summer.  Why would we have been in front of the fireplace in the summer?
PRINCE CHARMING:  Oh?  Wasn't that you?
ME:  It was in the passenger-side doorway of your truck in the Billy McHale's parking lot.
PRINCE CHARMING:  Billy McHale's.  Yeah.  I used to spend a lot of time there.

Question #3

If your significant other was stranded on a deserted island, what one item could they not live without?

PRINCE CHARMING:  Well, you would definitely need a way to make fire.
ME:  What?
PRINCE CHARMING:  I could make fire, but you?  Huuuh.....no.
ME:  No.  Like a personal item.  What personal item could I not live without?
PRINCE CHARMING:  Oh.  Coffee.
ME:  Good one.  I said computer, but coffee is way better.  I'm giving us the points for that one.

Question #4

What item of clothing do you wear that your significant other can't stand?

Admittedly, it took me about 24 hours prior to playing this game with him to come up with an answer to this one.  He really doesn't wear anything that I hate.  I thought about something maybe that an old girlfriend gave him, but I burned all that stuff when I moved in.  I hate it when he wears anything with holes in it....


PRINCE CHARMING:  You wear stuff with holes.
ME:  Yeah, but I don't like it when you do.

He also has a shirt he got in Hawaii that has some funky Hawaiian King's name on it that I can't pronounce and I hate it when he wears clothes I can't read.

PRINCE CHARMING:  That blue and purple golf shirt that I got in Nevada.
ME:  Oh!  Yes!  I forgot about that.  I hate that!!!  Good one!  We get points for that, too.

Question #5

If your significant other were a dessert, what dessert would they be?

PRINCE CHARMING:  Anything chocolate, and I'd be a banana split.
ME:  Yay!  That's what I said, too!  We rock!

Question #6

Who is your significant other's celebrity cru...

PRINCE CHARMING:  Dennis Quaid.
ME:  Can I finish the question please?
PRINCE CHARMING:  The answer is Dennis Quaid.  Next question.
Whatever.  He's right, anyway....

Question #7

If your significant other could do any other job than what they do now, what would it be?

PRINCE CHARMING:  You know what I always thought would be cool to do?  I thought a lot about being a stock broker when I was a kid.
ME:  Excuse me!?  I said you'd want to be a professional football player....Mr. 21 for Life.  Mr. Wide-Receiver.  Mr. NFL Sunday.  Mr. I Could Have Been A Contender.
PRINCE CHARMING:  Oh, well, yeah...but your body has to be in shape for that.  Mine's not.  But I think it would be cool to buy and sell and trade and watch the market.
ME:  Who are you?

Question #8

What is your significant other's guilty pleasure TV show?

PRINCE CHARMING:  What does that mean?
ME:  You know, like something that I watch that I wouldn't really want anyone to know about.  Like when you used to watch Sex and the City with me and not tell anyone.
PRINCE CHARMING:  I never watched that with you.
ME:  Or like when you used to watch Grey's Anatomy with me.
PRINCE CHARMING:  I only did that because McDreamy made you all steamy and stuff and I thought I should be in the room when that happened.
ME:  Awwwwww...that's sweet.  Now come on.  We need this point.  What's my guilty pleasure TV show?
PRINCE CHARMING:  I don't know.  That president thing?
ME:  The West Wing?  The West Wing rocks.  Why would I not want anyone to know about that?  No.  That's not it.
PRINCE CHARMING:  I don't know then.
ME:  I would say the one that I watch that I really never do a lot of advertising on is Glee.
PRINCE CHARMING:  Yeah, that show's stupid.

You Scored: 4 out of 8

These quizes are stupid and should only be 

used to kill time while driving to the beach house.

You are perfectly matched and should 

never ever be apart for the rest of your lives.

Pretty much what I thought. 

 

Phoning It In

Hi. 

You've reached the Double L Photography Blog.  Sorry I don't have anything meaningful for you right now.  Lisa really hasn't been feeling all that deep and wordy and creative lately.

In fact, she really hasn't even been taking that many pictures, which would totally explain the Ricky Martin blog from earlier this week.

I'm thinking that I might just start a category for her called Phoning It In.  This could be the first entry...except for the five or six other entries that she's written in the past couple of weeks that would also fit into that category.

Lisa's actually not here right now.  I hoping that she's out working on something great.  Or something sorta' great.  Or just something.  Anything, really.  Just not a Glee review...'cause that was...just...wow.

She might be cooking.  I heard a rumor about enchiladas.  And something about brownies that make your clothes fall off.  I'm not sure what was going on there.

Or reading. She's got about 147 books on her nightstand.  Boy, that Ellen DeGeneres sure has a lot to say.

Or Facebooking.  She does that a bunch.  You might be able to find her there if you can't wait until later. 

Otherwise, just leave a message after the beep and she'll get back to you when she gets a better idea than this.

And even though she probably hasn't told you in a while, I still have mad, crazy, puffy chocolate heart love for you.

She does, too.  

She just can't think of a better way to say it right now. 

Thanks!

~Beeeeeeep~

The Biggest Argument We've Had This Week

As a general rule, Prince Charming and I get along really well.  We're not one of those couples who fight all the time and you wonder how they ever stay together.  I sometimes wonder how we stay together because he's so cool and yummy looking, and I'm me.  But, I try to not to question it...gift horse and all that.

We just don't fight all that often.  We truly are best friends.  And I don't mean that in the cheesy, "Oh, he's just my best friend!" and it makes you want to stab your eyes out with a fork kind of way.  I mean it in the best possible, giggling-slumber party-popcorn fight-braid each other's hair- kind of way.  I'm probably the one person in the world who knows that PC does a mean French Braid.  That thing stays in for days.

The only time that we really ever get annoyed with each other is when he wants to watch golf and I'm not ready to fall asleep yet.  Last night, however, was a slightly different story.  It started when he sat down in his chair and began flipping through the channel guide on TV.

"What's on tonight?"

"I don't know."

Flip.  Flip.  Flip.

"Oh!  Glee!  I forgot about that."

"Greeeeaaat."

"No.  It's Ricky Martin night.  Awesome."

"What else is on?"

"Nothing.  Just Glee."

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Of course."

"Oh my God...."

And then he covered up the side of his face with his hand so I couldn't see that he was rolling his eyes and mouthing, "Dork"...but I totally saw him. Whatever.  He was just jealous because he's not a homosexual Latin man with perfect teeth and 1 Grammy, 8 World Music Awards and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame...hello!  He was in Menudo and sang She Bangs.  Okay?  Thank you.

After spending the next 93 minutes ping-ponging between the kids, helping with homework and valentines and showers and dinner clean-up and dessert and dessert clean-up, I plopped down on the couch and put my feet up.  It was 7:51 p.m.

Prince Charming acted like he didn't even know I was there.

Then it was 7:54 p.m.

He wasn't even looking at me.  Like I didn't exist!

Now it's 7:56 p.m. and I'm starting to get a little antsy.

"Are you going to watch this game or are we watching 'Glee'?"  Who cares about college basketball before March anyway?  Right.  This is what I'm saying....

Big sigh.  "Ugghhh...why don't you DVR 'Glee' and watch it tomorrow and we can watch 'Fringe' tonight?"

"No.  I don't want to DVR it.  I won't sit down tomorrow and watch it.  I have other stuff to do during the day besides watch TV."

"Like what?  Play on the computer?"

"No!"

"Yes.  Just record it and we'll watch 'Fringe'."

"Look.  I've had a busy day just like you and I want to sit down and relax with the show that I want to watch, just like you.  So if you don't want to watch it, fine.  I'll go in the other room."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Sure."

"Because sometimes you say that then you get all upset because it's like I'm forcing you out of the room."

"It's fine.  I'll be fine.  Just because we haven't seen each other all day, and I've been busy with the kids all night.  It's fine.  We don't have to be joined at the hip, you know.  We can catch up later.  It's fine."

"And then we'll watch 'Fringe'?"

"It's fine," and I covered up the side of my face with my hand so he couldn't see me rolling my eyes and mouthing "Science-Fiction Freak".

So I grab my Girlie, we snuggle under the covers of my bed and start watching.  Ricky Martin singing "Sexy and I Know It."  It was awesome.

Then there was a big long break and he wasn't on there, and I got kind of disappointed.  I wanted more bon bon shakin'.  My Vida was Loca and I needed to drink from his Cup of Life, but then Emma said that I shouldn't hog her fiance's nog and it all went to hell in hysterics.  

And then...Ricky Martin sang "La Isla Bonita" with the slutty chick and she was so bad.  But it was FREAKIN' AWESOME!  During the commercial break I came walking out to the living room with a huge, post-Big O. smile on my face.

"What?"

"Ricky Martin just sang Madonna!"

"So?"

"It was so AWESOME!"

"Whyyy?"

"Because Ricky Martin just sang Madonna!"

"Great.  Are we watching 'Fringe' now?"

"No.  It's not over yet.  How is Ricky Martin singing Madonna not the coolest thing ever?" and I salsa danced back down the hallway.

"You're a DORK!"

I walked back over and said, "Gleek."

"Oh my God...."

Of course, after the episode was over I told my son that I was kind of surprised that they did a whole Latin episode and they didn't do one Selena song.

"Selena Gomez is from Latin?"

Probably, yes....but soooooooooooooo No!

And P.S....Thank you and big Latin Lover love to the Sun Sentinel in Florida for posting Ricky Martin in Glee pics on their website so I could rip them off and put them on here.  I'll be searching for People Magazine next.  They archive their stuff right?  It's not too late to Google Search 'Sexiest Man Alive' for our next argument.

Bradley Cooper....Duende!!!!  That's how you say "uber-delish!!!" in Ricky Martin. 

Un!  Dos!  Tres!

I'm Really Not This Stupid

I showed Prince Charming the blog that I wrote about the skating party.  I always get nervous showing him anything I've written.  I'm afraid he won't like it.  Or won't get it.  Or finally realize that I really am the nerdy freshman to his dreamy Prom King.

If he laughs while he's reading, I know I've hit it right.  Or, at least I know I've found his ticklish spot.

But, if he squints, puts his hand by his eyes, shakes his head and starts quietly re-reading the words out loud, I know I've crapped it out big time.  Which is pretty much what happened when he read about the skating party.

"What?  What part are you on?"

"This thing here about getting in the car.  I don't get it.  You make it sound like we didn't want to go."

"You didn't."

"I never said that."

"You mean when you started jumping up and down screaming 'Please don't make me! Please don't make me!' that didn't mean that you didn't want to go?"

"I didn't do that...and don't write that either."

He doesn't understand why I like to do this.  The creative process that I go through and how it connects me with the outside world.  The bigger picture that evolves and puts my place in the universe in perspective.

"No.  You just like the attention."

Which is totally not it at all.  I mean, sure.  I don't see my mom as often as I used to, but that doesn't mean she's not paying attention to me.

"You see?  That.  What does that even mean?"

"It's a joke.  You know, like, my mother is the only person who reads this.  I'm trying to be funny."

"Oh...Okay....I guess."

I'm trying to tell a story, and not be the worst story-teller in the world like I know I am.  My brother is a great story-teller.  He can put you right in the moment every time.  Give you all the details, and the nitty-gritty, and the funny, and the serious, and the crux of the situation so that you feel like you just went through the whole thing with him and you want to run out and tell someone about the amazing thing that just happened to you.

Me?  I start telling the story, then realize that I forgot to mention something before, so I have to go back and tell that part of the story again, then jump forward to where I was before I remembered what I forgot, then your eyes start to glaze over and you look like an American Idol judge when someone really bad comes up to audition and you just want to put your hand up and say, "Okay.  That's enough.  Thanks for comin' out."

Then I decide that I shouldn't so much try and tell the story.  I should just write it the way that I would say it if we were having coffee together.  Did you want coffee?  Are you sure?  It's no trouble.  I have brownies, too.  Or how about tea?  Pot roast?  I could throw one on.  It would only take a few hours. 

The whole thing ends up being an exercise in the stream of consciousness that goes through my head and the only person who finds it remotely sensical at all is me.  Is sensical even a word?....'cause my spell-check doesn't recognize it.  It didn't recognize nitty-gritty either.  It tried to change it to titty-gritty.

I guess I feel like I just need to defend the fact that my postings lately have been more like the rants and ravings of a psycho mom who doesn't get out enough and spends her spare time doing things that require minimal thought, like reading Ellen DeGeneres books, and less like the college educated, former teacher turned Momtographer that I'm trying to be.  I have less and less time to spend crafting my thoughts into something meaningful and worthwhile, so rather than try to converse, I'm just trying to get a quick laugh.

I know.  I hear what you're saying.  Really, I do.

Hmmm?  Oh.  Did I not put a picture in here?  Sorry.

Ummmm....How about this one?  I took it of my kid a couple of weeks ago and I really like it.

Orrrr....uhhhh...this one?  I took this one with my kid last week, and I kind of like it. 

"I don't understand.  Why is the glass upside-down?"

"Because it's interesting.  It doesn't look the way you'd expect it to."

".................What?"

"It's art.  It's creative.  It's an outlet for me.  You know, like you and the Golf Channel."

"Did you write a blog about golf?  You didn't show me that one."

"What are you...."

"And don't even write that because it's not what I said at all."

He's going to hate this one.

This Is What It Looks Like....

This is what it looks like when you blow out birthday candles on your birthday breakfast doughnut.

This is what it looks like when you put on a pretty dress to open your presents and your dad puts streamers on your head.

This is what it looks like when you're listening to everyone sing Happy Birthday to you and you really just want to eat the brownies already.

This is what it looks like when you model one of your new outfits and you really start to feel it.

This is what it looks like when you blow glitter at the camera.

This is what it looks like when Barbie and Ken get married.

This is what it looks like when you've had a full day of birthday and you crash out in Daddy's arms.

This is what it looks like when your brother eats left-over pizza for breakfast the next morning and doesn't use a napkin.

This is what it looks like to laugh at your brother while he has pizza sauce on his face.

This is what it looks like to just be 6.

So We Took The Kids Skating....

My daughter came home from school yesterday so completely excited.

"Guess what, Mom!  It's the skating party tonight!"

I remember skating parties.  Don't you?  Remember how awesome they were?

You'd talk about it at school, then coordinate your ride to the rink with your friends, because it was so much cooler to get dropped off at Skate King with somebody else's mom.  And when you got there you'd be putting on those brown skates with the bright orange wheels and toe stopper (because your mom still wouldn't buy you the uber-cool light blue, Nike shoe skates like the ones Michelle had....)  As you laced up, you really weren't paying attention to what you were doing because you were actually looking around to see who else was there......

.....Marc G. 

Then you'd glide out onto that super shiny wood floor with the flashing strobe lights and the red shag carpet covering all the walls.  You practiced skating in your garage at home, so on this big floor you really blew it up.  ABBA rockin' the speakers, hair whipping around, smiling big.  It was like flying.  Surely Marc G. would see you and fall instantly in love the moment he walked in the door.

And then they'd turn the lights down and announce that it was time for the Snowball.  You'd anxiously take your place against the carpet wall and wait for Marc G. to come around and ask you to skate with him.  He'd take your hand and glide you around while your hair continued to billow softly over your shoulders and all of your friends glared jealously because they were all secretly in love with him too and couldn't believe that you ended up landing him for the super big Skate King Snowball.

Then you'd wonder why Marc G. stopping down there?  I'm over here, Marc.  No!  That's not me.  That's Monica T!  What are you doing?  Don't you remember?  I'm the love of your life.  No.  No.  NOOOOO!!!!

Hmm?  I'm sorry.  It was so long ago.  I can barely remember.

Let's move on.

So, my daughter wanted to hit up the skating party last night.  It's her first year in school, so I've really tried to make sure she's able to participate in everything that she's interested in.  We haven't been to a skating party in three years, which was the last time that my son showed any interest in skating, so I was ready to get my wheels on.

"No, Mom.  I want to do it myself," she said to me.

"Ummm, you've never been on skates before," I told her.

"I can do it!"

Trying to convince her that skating was a lot harder than she thought it was going to be, would have been phenomenally simpler than trying to convince my son and his father to get in the car.

"Come on, you guys!  Let's be social.  It'll be fun!"

"Gross."  Prince Charming never wants me to have any fun.

I did manage to wrangle them in the truck under the promise that I'd buy them each a red licorice rope as a treat.

Did you know that they don't sell red licorice ropes at the skating rink anymore?  They also don't let you drop your kids off at the door, either.  Things have really changed, you know?  And not in a good way, either.  There was no ABBA.  There were no red shag carpet walls. There was no Snowball.  There was, however, something called a Couples Skate, during which my son made us change partners because it's apparently totally lame to be walked around the rink by your dad during the Couples Skate.  The girl with the beautiful hair who sits in front of you in class might think you're a dork.  It's way cooler to be desperately clinging to your mom's arm so you won't fall down while she walks your around the rink during the Couples Skate.  It might make the girl with the beautiful hair kind of jealous and maybe take a little bit more notice of you.

It totally didn't, but just that he thought that and was willing to risk being seen with me in front of anyone else to possibly make it happen made me happy.

But as much as things had changed at the skating party, they still stayed the same.

Brown skates with bright orange wheels and a toe stop.

Flashing strobe lights.

Bumpin' music on the speakers.

And a girlie who, all night long, kept saying, "He's not here, Mom.  He said he was going to come.  Where is he?"

This next part of the story is slightly dangerous because I really don't like to use this forum to mock or make fun of anyone other than myself.  And Prince Charming.  Oh, and my kids....sometimes.  But this...this just really needs to be told.

As I was walking my daughter around the rink (because, as it turns out, skating is a lot harder than she thought it was), I happened to glance over at my dreamy beloved, and I noticed that he was talking to another dad from my daughter's class.  We walked around the rink again, and they were still talking.  Once more time  around.  Still talking.

Great, I thought.  It's nice that he's connecting with someone here.  It really made me feel like we were working our way into the social structure of the school.

After the guy left, I stopped back at our table.

"Please sit down with me," PC said.

"What...Why?"

He scanned around kind of nervously.  "He said he was going to come back."

You see, while I was Movin' Like Jagger around the rink, this was conversation that PC was having with his new friend:

The Guy:  Hey!  You're my daughter's friend's dad, right?  What's your name?

And PC told him his name.

The Guy repeated it back and said:  Right!  I'm terrible with names.

Then the guy talked about what he does for a living.

The Guy:  I'm sorry.  What did you say your name was again?

And PC told him his name again.

The Guy repeated it back again and said:  Right!  Sorry!  I'm terrible with names.

Then the guy talked more about what was going on his life.  At one point while he was chattering on, PC had an itch on his face, so he wiped at it with the back of his hand.

The Guy said:  I'm sorry.  Did I spit on you?

I swear I'm not making this up.

PC:  Oh no.  I just had an itch.

The Guy:  I'm sorry.  What was your name again?

And PC told him his name again, and I'm totally not kidding,

The Guy repeated it back and said:  I'm sorry.  I'm terrible with names.

Seven times they had that same conversation!  Seven!  PC counted.

Finally, The Guy said:  It's great to see another dad at one of these things.  I'm going to skate for a bit, but, I'd love to come back and talk to you some more.

PC:  Okay...sure...

The Guy:  Great.  I'll catch up with you later, Frank.

PC's name is not Frank.  It's not even close.

But I can totally see why he wanted me to sit down with him.  And why he was so willing to be my partner when I asked the girl DJ to do Snowball~Old School Style.

And we weren't even wearing skates.

Skating parties rule.