Barnmaven

Unhip in the Country

I used to love to watch Sex & the City.  My ex and I watched it almost every week for a couple of years.  We lived in New Jersey at the time, and everything New York felt close to us.  I loved Carrie's quirkiness, her inability to be pinned down to anything despite her desperation to be loved, I loved Miranda's inability to take a back seat to anyone, Charlotte's naivete about everything and everyone, Samantha's unabashed sexuality.  I loved that show.

The other night I put on my Netflix copy of Sex & the City 2, thinking I'd watch it while I folded laundry.  I haven't seen an episode of Sex & the City in such a long time, so I thought it would be enjoyable. 

I turned it off about halfway through and stuck it back in the Netflix envelope.

Its not that the movie was bad, per se, its that...I just couldn't relate.  I could not, for the life of me relate to these women. 

Do people actually wander around their houses in their time off with perfectly done hair and makeup, in highly stylish clothes and six inch high heels that probably cost $400?  Are there really women in New York City, or anywhere else, for that matter, who frost cupcakes for their kid's birthday party in white vintage dresses, white heels, full on makeup and pristine aprons?  And who dresses their kids in white dresses with pink waistbands every single day of their lives?  Even in a scene at Miranda's house, where Steve is slouched back comfortably in a white t-shirt and jeans, and Magda is baking and cleaning in her usual gray-everything, Miranda's wearing a beautiful, bright sheath.  Her hair is shining, perfect.  Her makeup is perfect. 

In the cupcake scene, one of Charlotte's daughters puts paint-covered hands on her white skirt, and Charlotte shrieks at her.  The toddler starts to have a royal screaming fit.  Charlotte hides in the pantry and cries, and then is grateful when the nanny comes and rescues her from her children.  I looked for any sense of humourous irony being conveyed, and if it was there, I couldn't see it.  Were we really supposed to see Charlotte as some tragic figure?  Feel sorry for her? 

I shut the movie off, and I looked at myself in my rumpled t-shirt, jeans that are a size too big, pink flip-flops, no makeup, and I wondered how I could have ever related to that show, those women.  Not once in my entire life have I lived that way.  Maybe for about 5 minutes when I first moved to New Jersey and didn't have a house in the suburbs and a new baby and an extra 75 pounds wrapped around my middle, but certainly for no longer than that.  Perhaps by not finishing the movie I missed some really poignant moment where all of the characters realized how fake and plastic their lives were and moved out to a farm in the country and tossed their children into a mud puddle?  Not bloody likely.

Sweet Jesus in heaven, if Charlotte or Carrier or any one of those characters got a look at the piles of dog hair I'm about three days behind in vacuuming or the puddles of puppy pee on my kitchen floor,  if they saw the toy box that masquerades as my living room, if they got a gander at messy, food-covered me when I'm deep in the middle of cooking or baking something, I swear they'd drop dead of horror.  There's no Irish nanny to rescue me from a tantrum, no housekeeper or cook to make my life easier.  My God, if they lived in my house they'd have to do EVERYTHING for themselves.  Imagine that!

Years ago I would have looked at this situation and felt that I somehow was not measuring up to this glamorous standard of fashion and female beauty.  Back when I wanted to be someone I wasn't, back when I didn't love my life.

Today, though, I look at the characters and their lives, and I don't envy them one little bit.  I'd take my life over theirs any day of the week, grimy jeans and all.  I couldn't imagine living my life in a pristine little box high up in the city, tapping my long fingernails and buying shoes that cost hundreds of dollars and handing my children off to the nanny when they misbehaved, not for one second could I imagine living like that.  I never have, I never will, but the best part is that I never want to.    I love my messy, noisy, chaotic and most decidedly un-hip life. 

 

While snowflakes fall

 

 

I'd like to say the quiet respite of today is forced, nature's way of making me take time out from the world.  Except I"m pretty honest, and in being so must admit that its only reinforced my desire to hibernate.

I haven't left my house since Saturday morning.

I haven't gotten dressed except to go food shopping on Saturday until fifteen minutes ago.

I didn't go to church yesterday and I didn't even call to tell them I wasn't coming.  I flaked out on choir, on life.  I don't want to do anything, go anywhere, be anything but what I am at the moment.

My kids and I have had a blast watching old movies (C is now completely head over heels with Number 5 from Short Circuit and I have rediscovered my ancient crush on Steve Guttenberg) and watching the snow fall and playing hooky from life.  We've made our first fire of the year, made hot cocoa, which would have had marshmallows, but somebody (I'm not pointing fingers, SON) ate all the marshmallows.  No one has called on my new ad for babysitters and I'm perfectly OK about that, because I don't trust any of them anyway and somehow I think its all going to work out for the best.

 

And so we go on.  We watch the snow.  We enjoy our vacation from the rest of the world.  We soothe our frayed nerves with hugs and giggles and snowball fights and watching four large dogs act like little puppies in the snow, and we get by.  We get by.

And the snowflakes keep falling.

Being an Us

I love the show RENT.  I saw it on Broadway with my mom about 10 years ago and have loved it ever since.  The movie was just as phenomenal - wise move, that, using pretty much all of the original cast.  I've watched it countless times and I have no less than three CD's of both the Broadway recordings and the tracks from the movie.

If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend either watching the movie or seeing it live (I believe its still running at the Nederlander Theatre and also on tour in the U.S.).  One person who saw it for the very first time ever with me said that it was the first time they had ever *really* understood that there was no difference between being gay and straight, that "love is love, no matter who it is you love."  Its not that this friend was prejudiced before that point, but I think that they may have lacked understanding, not having had spent a tremendous amount of time around gay or lesbian couples.  I think there are a lot of things that you can walk away from RENT feeling or understanding more clearly, but what a powerful statement that was on how true and clear the characters that the sadly late and very great Jonathan Larson brought to life in his script.  Oh, crap, I'm digressing AGAIN. 

Perhaps my favorite song from RENT is "La Vie Boheme."  It evokes a fierce response in me, from the feeling of being on the fringes as a kid to clinging to music and experiences and ideas that were somewhat out of the mainstream.  As much as I have one foot firmly in the buttoned-down, a huge part of me simply doesn't belong there and wishes she could just fly away and be free all over again in another world, another life. 

In part B of the song, after the Roger/Mimi Interlude and toward the very end, there is a line that grabs me by the heart: 

"To being an "US" for once, instead of a "THEM!"

Last weekend I got to be an "us" again and it was so wonderful.

My experiences with Bastard Nation were among the most powerful of my life.  Never had I connected in such an enormous way with others.  Despite different circumstances - Late Discovery adoptees, adoptees who had found, adoptees who would never find, adoptees who hated their adoptive families, adoptees who loved theirs, the members of this group shared something special and unique.  Some of the friendships I formed with my fellow Bastards will last my whole life.  Conferences, protests, rallies - every event brought with it not only the opportunity to learn, educate others, raise our voices and be heard, but to connect and share with people who felt like family.  I suppose that's incredibly odd, considering that if you put ten adoptees in a room you're looking at twenty family trees.  Hell, you want confusing?  I married another adoptee.  Our children would have six sets of grandparents were everyone involved still living, speaking to each other, or known.   And only another adoptee would really understand how normal that truly was. 

Being a Bastard was the first time in my life that I knew unequivocally that I was part of an "us."  It wasn't only the experience of growing up adopted, but the shared passion for reforming a system that treats adoptees as a suspect class, denies us the same information that is available to anyone else, and for loving the gallows humor that everyone else appears to find tasteless but from which we derived the deepest, truest laughter.

Friday night, after an incredible dinner with a couple of my favorite Bastards under the sun, we sat up late in a hotel room drinking too much wine and laughing and talking about everything.  I felt as if I had been transported to another hotel room in another time and place at one of our many conferences or rallies.  Every good thing I have ever felt about being a Bastard just welled up inside me and filled my heart and my soul.  We talked of the old days, old friends. We mourned those we have lost.  We meandered through laughter and a thousand "Oh, yeah, I remember that!"'s down the warmly-lit paths of memory and shared experience.  We looked at where our lives had come since those days.  We caught up, bonded, reconnected.

To my Bastards who were present, and to the other Bastards, wherever you are, thank you.  Thank you for being my people.  Thank you for being a place where I belong, where I don't feel like I'm different.  I love you guys.

And if you're ever in Troutdale, OR, go have dinner at Tab's Chicken and Dumplings.  Make sure you get a window seat.

SEE IT

Avatar, that is, if you haven't already.  I know, I'm probably wayyyyy late sailing on this particular boat.  I meant to go a long time ago, but just never quite got into going by myself.  What's the fun of going to a movie if you don't have someone to turn to afterward and say "Oh.  Emmm.  Gee.  That was AMAZING!"  (Or alternatively, "I paid twenty bucks to see that shit? FML.")

My brother called Sunday night and after I bored him filled him in on all of the shit that happened last week, he decided since he had a couple of days off, he would come spend a couple of days here.  I love having company, even if it seriously  compromises my internet time.  The kids, of course, were THRILLED.  I told them Sunday night that Uncle Kenny would be visiting, and they were all "SQUEEEEEEE!!  UNCLE KENNY!!!!"  On Monday when I woke up Little Man, he rolled over, half opened his eyes, and asked me, "Is Uncle Kenny here yet?"  "No, not yet, he's coming tonight."  "NOOOO!  I want to go back to sleep until Uncle Kenny comes!"  Uncle Kenny, apparently, has more cred with my kids than even Santa Claus. 

Last night the kids were at their dads, and rather than sit around and drink too much wine and talk about Dad (sometimes that gets old), we decided to go see Avatar.  I can't believe I waited this long to see it,  what an incredible visual buffet for the eyes and mind!  The storyline was sort of "meh."  Its as old as time, hero sent to study/control/infiltrate indigenous people, falls in love with clan chief's daughter, acclimates to said indigenous peoples' way of life and eventually either the story has a happy ending (Pocahontas) or everybody dies (Dances with Wolves).  It was the setting and the effects that took a somewhat boring story and turned it into something entirely new and different.   I am reaching for adjectives to support how mesmerized I was by the realism of the animals and the characters, and failing miserably.  I think I said "Incredible" already?  Yes, yes I did. 

I'm kind of excited to see how many movies are being released in 3-D these days.  They've improved the technology so much they can even put it on DVD's now.  I bought a two pack of "Monsters vs Aliens" with a bonus CD with some little short movie on Bob (the Blob) and the short was in 3D and the package came with four or five pair of paper 3-D glasses (which the dogs promptly chewed up, but that's another bitch session story.  Loved the trailer for the new Alice in Wonderland, that looks like a 'must see' although I have to say I'm not excited about Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter.  Dont' get me wrong - I adore Johnny Depp.  If he would only agree to leave his longtime love and move to the sad, mundane middle of Washington State to keep me company for the rest of my days, I'd probably keel over from the sheer joy of it.  What I don't like is how unappealing his character looks.  I prefer to enjoy my Johnny Depp LOOKING like Johnny  Depp, not like my Uncle Frank's ex-wife Vi on LSD.  I know, call me picky.

Off to enjoy a cup of coffee with my big brother before he heads back home.  Enjoy YOUR day, however you spend it.  And SEE AVATAR if you haven't yet, in 3D if you can.  Worth every penny of the admission price.