Elisa's Journal

Well, I turned 50 yesterday. I have to announce this because you wouldn't have been able to tell at my house. I was so bummed at how underappreciated I am. I'm so pissed. The boys spent all of 30 seconds making little coupon books with choices that (due to an unwillingness to put forth any addtional time or creative effort) consisted of these choices: free hug (I never new I was being charged to begin with,) free sample (what, urine?) and wild card. Hmmm. Yet I see one kid investing hours on a laptop and the other breaking and refixing his BMX bike, so what the hell? I'd like to know where the coupons are for washing my car, cleaning the kitchen grout, and hiring George Clooney to give me a full body massage. My husband gave me a sweet card but did nothing more than sign his name. No effort to write anything sweet inside. Nevertheless, my eldest daughter gave me a beautiful necklace with a mother child symbol, lots of hugs and well wishes, several phone calls and some e-cards. My middle daughter wrote me my own personal song which included her homespun lyrics and guitar playing, all burned on a CD. My youngest daughter made me a clay pinch pot. So is this a girl/boy thing? Not only that, when my hubby comes home he asked if I made the reservations for Benihana's for my own birthday party!!! Umm. No. Fortunately, they had a place for us. But no one treated it as anything more than a usual dinner. No one brought a camera and took pictures. No one opened the door for me. Zip. When we got home, there was no singing Happy Birthday. No one in my family even baked a cake for me. Were it not for my best friend, chef extraordinaire, the day wouldn't have had any semblance to a birthday. She baked a chocolate cake from scratch--the taste of which as truly a trancendental experience. The card I got from her and Vince and the one I got from her dearest friend actually had a handwritten note inside. Plus Kathy took the time and went to the expense of getting me a desperately needed gift certificate for a pedicure and manicure. Maybe I can take the bandaids off my fingers and start wearing sandals soon. Anyway, when we came home from dinner, everyone dispersed in all directions leaving me alone to sit in my chair, play solitaire on my Tungsten 5, and cry. I waited for the Chippendale boys to come in and strip for me, but they, too, were a no show. No singing telegrams. No "honey, why don't you go take a bubble bath. I have the water all drawn for you, your favorite bath products lined up, a glass of champagne on the side, and I'll get the kids all ready for bed." After a while, I just went to bed with a glass of wine and watched Mel Gibson in Forever Young so I could see someone who was actually aging faster than me. Such a bummer of a day. To top it all off, my middle daughter shouted out a name to me that I dare not repeat here cuz I wouldn't give her money for Starbucks. Hey, I wasn't exactly in a giving kind of mood. This same thing happened last Mother's Day so it's not as if they haven't been alerted to how much this lack of appreciation hurts. Am I alone or is there anyone else out there with a similar experience...every birthday and Mother's Day? Am I unjustifiably feeling sorry for myself? Do I suck so much that my family doesn't feel like bothering? I don't know the answer to these, but I will say this: Kathy, don't be surprised if I show up at your doorstep with my adoption papers and a pen clutched against my chest.Oh well, may for my next 50th??? I can hope, can't I?

Posted by elisa at 03:41 PM | Permalink

Well, today is my last day in the 4th decade of life. I know everyone thinks this is a great time to have a big bash, but to me, that would be akin to putting on a parade when you get your wisdom teeth yanked from your head. I don't think so. Sure there are advantages, like that wonderful subscription from Modern Maturity and daily junk mail from AARP, but there are downsides too. For one, I don't feel old. Sometimes I look into the mirror expecting a 30 year old face to peer back, but there's a saggy one in the reflection with a "Ha, Ha, that's what you get for skipping the sunscreen" expression. Choices like picking out wedding invitations, daycare centers, elementary schools and orthodontists have been replaced by picking out plastic surgeons, gyms, life insurance and burial plots. Now, when I get a pain in my chest I think coronary disease instead of indigestion. Now, when I read, I have to stretch my arms 3 inches beyond what's normal instead of, well, not reading at all. I long to stop my youngest from growing up, but I am soooo glad I don't have one in diapers. I mourn the dwindling time my kids want to spend with me, but I look forward to spending more time with my husband. So being 50 might have it's disadvantages, but there are benefits too. Besides, it beats the crap out of the alternative!

Posted by elisa at 08:39 AM | Permalink

Kristina and I spent the weekend in Austin supposedly celebrating Mom's Day for the sororiety (but we skipped those festivities in lieu of hanging together and doing weird stuff. Friday we visted the Capitol and saw an albine squirrel which, I'm told on dubious authority, ensures aced finals. Saturday we went to San Marcos and toured around the town. That took about 47 seconds. Then we went to Wonder World which, I'll swear to god, made me feel like a character in a Felini movie. That place has the weirdest, most surreal, most eclectic bunch of activities I've every come across. First, there's the train ride through the wilderness park. You take a tiny train through a tunnel and feed deers not lacking in frothy slobber, ogle the pea cocks in full plumage and massage your knees which are so cramped for space that you feel like your parking them in the ass of the person sitting in front of you. Then there's the cave tour--lots of rocks and darkness elaborated on by an apathetic but cute tour guide. Later, there's the observation tower which allows you a breathtaking view of Austin's treetops and asphalt roofs. Last but not least--we went to the anti-gravity room and saw water and pool balls running uphill, struggled to walk and felt like puking on our neighbor's shoes for about ten minutes. The highlight as, of course, the gift shop loaded with cool things like geods, cedar paddles, and salt and pepper shakers shaped like feet. After tearing ourselves away from Wonder World (Wondering why we went there in the first place) we drove to Gruene (pronounced Green) Texas. Cook town. Lots of cute stores, Gruene Hall, (the oldest dance hall in Texas) and various bed and breakfast places. (I say "places" because how do you pluralize bed and breakfast? Is it bed and breakfastes??) We ate at the Gristmill, an old cotton mill overlooking the rapids. Very idyllic place. Go there. We drove back to Austin and saw Sahara. Great movie and yes, Matthew is still drool-worthy. The next day was all about the Botanical Gardens, packing up to leave, and feeling sick at heart at the prospect of being apart for several weeks. Waaaaa! I miss my baby, Kristinky. We've become such good friends. So nice to not have to ground her anymore.

Posted by elisa at 09:50 AM | Permalink

Annika was so cute today! She and I were reading the paper together before I took her to school when she asked, “Are lawsuits expensive?” I told her they could be extremely expensive—thousands, even millions of dollars. When I saw her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates, I went on to explain that some lawyers make a great deal of money. In fact, some are among the riches people in the world. Being an aspiring actress, she assured me that stars made much more money than lawyers (so nice to have a 10 year old around to set me straight from time to time.) I then told her that some lawyers are so rich and powerful that they gain a celebrity status like stars and that their job in the courtroom sometimes requires them to have the same acting skills as a movie star (Snow Job, The Sequel). She seemed satisfied with our conversation and went off mirthfully to brush her teeth (more like scrape the inch-thick layer of yellow tartar off of their ever-diminishing population). When she returned, she said, “Mommy, I just don’t get it. Why do they have to buy a lawsuit? Can’t they just buy a regular suit?" All those explanations didn’t make a dent in the years of misconception. Reminds me just how concrete a kid’s thinking can be!

Posted by elisa at 10:16 AM | Permalink

We adopted, at great expense, a new family member--Michelle got her first car. Yep, this Honda Accord is a beaut. And seeing as how our family is vehicle-crazy, we consider it a part of the family short of having a place at the dinner table. SHe's the only family member that has good mileage, stays quiet and still at our command, doesn't whine for things, doesn't pout or stomp, and doesn't have to go to college. Michelle seems to be an okay driver--alittle quick with the turns and brakes and kinda fast with some maneuvers. Nothing like sitting in the passenger seat with a teenager at the wheel of a 3000 missle that aims for every pedestrian, mailbox, and shopping mall to inspire the white-knuckle syndrome. For now, she is restricted to daytime and non-highway driving.

This new addition sparked Kristina's constantly brewing car interest. If she could, she's switch cars as often as she switches cell phones. She knows she can't afford it but she's really drooling over the new BMW 325i. Totally loaded and drool worthy. Nevertheless, beggars can't be choosers no matter how adorable and sweet they are.

Me, I'm stuck with my dented up Suburban with 2 year old french fries under the seats, gummy bears and lint in the drink holders, and hand (and toe) prints on the passenger windows.

Michelle has been getting acceptance letters right and left. One week since she's turned in the applications and she's already gotten into Sul Ross, Texas Tech, and U of H. Frankly, I vote for one of the first because at Sul Ross, Michelle will be surrounded by hundreds of miles of desert, by cowboys, and by prospective ranchers. Animal husbandry is the big major there. Hmmm. What about animal wifery. Gotta phone the ERA about that one. Texas Tech might be good because, again, 95% of the college boys are cowboys who, when passing a woman, touch the brims of their hats and say, "Howdy ma'am." Very polite and they love their mommies. Michelle will find it harder to get into trouble in those two places.

Got two sayings for you. I love these because they embody the very core of my beliefs:

Seek not to be understood but to understand.

Seek not to be loved but to love.

I'll end on that sappy note. Try not to puke.

Posted by elisa at 10:43 AM | Permalink

Yay, my baby is alive!!! The roadkill on Echo wasn't one of my baby squirrels. Although I grieve for the victim, I'm so glad it's not mine!!!

On a more depressing note, I had a checkup yesterday where I discovered I've gained 10 pounds since my foot operation caused me to quit the gym. Okay, I could have started back months ago, but what the hell? I keep making excuses like "maybe the plate in my foot will shift." Okay, it's not obeying the same tectonic plate laws as our floating continents, but that stretch has worked pretty well for me. Now, my toe is broken. Hell, that should give me another five years, minimum. ANyway, I've gotten so many requests to be the stunt double for the Michelin Man, that desperate needs call for desperate measures. I bought an exercise bike since it's low impact. Gotta get alittle thinner before I return to the gym. My trainer's heart is at risk here. Thing is, I got the cheapest one I could. So after hours of assembly (it takes longer for me than most because I always assemble things twice--once with everything backwards and inside out and the other the correct way after finally breaking down and reading the manual. This one was only in Korean so it took a while.) As soon as the assembly was finished, I hopped on and pedaled. Clank. Huge sound. Bad sound. SOund of many parts breaking. It wasn't in the parts I assembled, believe it or not. It was the preassembled part with the belts and wheels and other complicated things I can't pronounce. With the help of tech support, I spent the next 3 hours disassembling the shroud, removing the pedal cranks (hey, I know the lingo, now!) and adjusting the belt. Found out there were weird parts clanking around that had no purpose (I'll probably discover otherwise when the whole thing disintegrates at 500 miles.) One part was a piece of plastic shaped like a shoe. The other was a heavy solid steel piece of pipe with masking tape over it. The third was a tiny plastic soldier. Just kidding. It was a tin one. ANyway, once the thing was assembled again, I wa so beat I didn't have the energy to crawl onto it. I guess you get what you pay for.

Posted by elisa at 09:21 AM | Permalink