Mom

When I was about 10 or so, I was already in the business of Making Decisions About Who I Wanted to Be. At 10, that was a dancer. Soon after the decision was made, I soberly resigned myself to the idea that if I was going to be a dancer, I would have to dance, so I sad Mom, please? And Mom found me a studio in a town called Minerva, Ohio.

Minerva was, I don't know, like 300 hours from where we lived, or it was 10 minutes; no one can know when you're a kid. Anyway, Mom bought me a leotard and rearranged her schedule for probably the four-hundredth time since I'd begun the soul-search for Who Maria Was, around 8 years old or so. And for a few Tuesdays, we got in the car after school, ate a chicken sandwich from McDonald's, and went to Minerva to dance.

While I was kick-ball-changing in an overly mirrored room for an hour, Mom sat in the van down the street, reading the newspaper and, I don't know, wishing I had been a son? But she sat there every week. Because I wanted to be a dancer.

It took four lessons to figure out that this dance instructor was not as much in the business of teaching the art of dance and helping kids have a good time as she was in the business of dressing us up in the most disturbingly sexy leotards one could find for a group of pre-pubescent ten year olds. One look from my Mom and an earnest "Mom, this leotard gives me wedgies" later, we cancelled my enrollment in the rest of those classes.

I remember driving home from Minerva, pondering what my next life calling would be. It was fall, and "How Do I Live" by LeAnne Rimes was on the radio. It was in between afternoon and night - in Ohio in the fall, there really is no evening - and it was cloudy, as usual. I was mourning the loss of what I had been sure would be my true identity (dancer) and feeling simultaneously angry at my Mom for being a prude and at my dance instructor for wishing wedgies on everyone. You know, your general paradoxical angst. But in the back of my head there was a dull buzzing. A nagging thought. I pushed it away, because though I hadn't defined, it was making me uncomfortable. Guilty.

It was the realization that Mom had Given Up Stuff for this; that she had heard my "I must be a dancer!" cries and said, "Ok, Ria," and did research, and found a studio in Minerva, and signed me up. She sat by herself in a dark car for an hour and ate McDonald's for dinner. Then, when she found out it was the wrong place for me, she did the even harder thing and pulled me out.

To this day, when I hear "How Do I Live" on the radio, my heart shakes and trembles, and I can feel how powerful that is; that nagging thought that grew into Gratitude, and Love, for the most giving, beautiful Mom there has ever been. That song is for you, Mom.

Stuff We've Been Doing and Eating and Looking At

This weekend, Aaron's sister and her husband got here. We went up to Sedona and hiked and wore hats and things. Then we ate at Oaxaca, which, mmmm. Coincidentally, "Oaxaca" (wah-HA-ca) is my favorite word to say in Spanish, and also my favorite restaurant in Sedona at which to eat. It's like, a perfect storm. Just whisper "Oaxaca" and "fish tacos" to me in the same sentence and I'll vote for you for president.

We've also done other fun things during their visit... like go to a Cubs game and grill out carne asada, which is my favorite thing to eat. This post is making me think I maybe have a lot of favorite things to eat?

I also went to two 90-minute sessions of Bikram yoga over the weekend and I am now dying, or becoming undead, I'm not sure. All I know is I need water. All of the water. I'm going back on Tuesday and already I simultaneously regret it and am congratulating myself for it.

In other news, look at this and breathe.

I mean. Really.

What I'm Thinking About While I'm In Here

1. BRRRRR OMG  FREAKING FREEZING oh. ok now it's not so bad.

2. What is 100 divided by .95? How many 100's do I have to do to swim a mile? What do Olympic swimmers think about while they're swimming, and does it have something to do with animals? I think it'd be really crazy if you could say you had won an Olympic medal while thinking about animals. There's probably not a lot of other sports where you could do that. Now I'm thinking about koala bears, so does that mean I'm going to win a medal? Isn't that how the transitive property works? Maybe if you're a Democrat, heh heh.

3. My political humor is really getting good. I should tell Dad that joke. You know, the transitive property one.

4. Mr. Hairy in the lane next to me is slapping the water very forcefully as he swims and it's making me angry. There is pool etiquette, you know. Loud slapping is ON THE LIST.

5. Crap, I have no idea how many laps I've done so far. Let's try to gauge it by how hard I'm breathing. Ok, I've done 500988 billion laps. Damn, girl!

6. If I swallowed a moutful of water every time I swam a lap, would there be a noticeable difference in the water level when I got out of the pool in an hour? Am I curious enough to try it? The pros would be that I'd have a cool science story to share at parties, specifically where there are people who like science. The con would be that I'd swallow lots of chlorine and other people's sweat, and I'd probably ruin my appetite for fish tacos at Rubios after this. I'm officially not curious enough. Gosh, I'm so pragmatic. More people should be pragmatic like me.

7. Should I get rice and nachos or rice and beans at Rubios? Do you think lemonade is close enough to water for me to drink it and still be hydrated? That lady who was working at Rubios last time was funny, but she laughed a little too hard at her own jokes. There's a line, you know?

8. What if I do way too many laps and my arms bulk up like a bodybuilder and people start asking me for help lifting cars off of children and stuff? I'm a person too, ok guys? And stop putting your cars on all these children.

9. That flip turn was like, the worst flip turn in the history of flip turns. I turned way too early and didn't even touch the wall and then I had to swim backwards to hit the wall and then push off. I bet all those punks at swim practice over in lane 8 are laughing their little stupid butts off at how bad that flip turn was. They're like, 'what's up with that chick in Lane 3 with the bright yellow cap? Did you see that flip turn? It's almost like she has no idea how the transitive property works.' Well you know what, punks? I'm going to go home, eat cookies for dinner and watch Adult Swim until it's way past your bedtime, so suck on that. Plus I don't have to sit through Miss Featherbottom's math class tomorrow, SUCKAS!
10. If this chlorine chips my nail polish I'm going to be like, UGH. But then I'll tell everyone at work tomorrow MY NAIL POLISH IS CHIPPED BECAUSE I SWAM SO MANY LAPS YESTERDAY and then I'll be the Queen of Everybody.

11. Do you think that everyone who sees my swim cap, which says "ATHENS" on it in big letters, thinks that I swam in the Athens Olympics? If they do, they're probably confused by my snail-like pace, especially when it comes to backstroke, but maybe they just think I'm hustling them and I'm going to break out in lightening-fast speed one day. I don't know how that would benefit me though unless I had some financial interest in it. Maybe I could talk to all the moms out here when I'm done and bet them I could beat their little punk kid in a race? I'm going to file this idea for later when I haven't swallowed so much water.

12. Is there one specific moment where it goes from "Light" to "Dark" outside? Like, when I put my head down in the water to take a breath, can it change by the time I come up for air? Also, if I keep breathing on the right side, is my neck going to hurt later, and then my mom is going to give me another lecture about not letting stress get to me, but then I have to tell her it's not the stress that's making my neck hurt, it's breathing? I really don't want to have that conversation tonight though because I have a new episode of NCIS on my tivo.

13. If I splash around enough and act like I'm super slow and have trouble swimming in a straight line, maybe Mr. Speedo up there will get the hint and not ask to share lanes with me. (Now I am violating my own pool etiquette rules, and now I have to ponder why I value my own comfort above my principles, and now I feel like I don't deserve Rubios anymore but instead a lengthy conversation with a priest?)

14. I think I should be done soon.

15. It's been an hour and I'm starting to daydream about granola bars, so it's time to wash my hair and take the glorious walk out to my car with freshly showered skin and tired muscles and an open wallet. You know. For the Rubios.

Until Saturday, ya'll, happy swimming.

Anniversary 3

We went to Tucson this weekend to play Rich People for a few days and celebrate the fact that Aaron Michael picked me three years ago. 

We watched movies, ordered room service (OMG THE COOKIES), hung out by the pool and ate at the Westin La Paloma's swanky restaurant. AND we got massages. The view from our room was pretty gorgeous (see bottom right) but I think my view at dinner was even better. (wink wink flirt flirt. Seriously, though. What a hunk.)

We've taken that hand picture every year, starting with our honeymoon when we were sitting in an empty little cafe in Key West and admiring our new jewelry. It's getting fun to build up these memories - we've taken some awesome anniversary trips over these past three years.

Every year I pinch myself and thank God for being so smart. When I married AB 3 years ago I knew I loved him and that he was the bees knees, but there are so many things about him I didn't know then but that are such important attributes in a partner. He works hard, he is responsible, he cares about doing things right, he has integrity when it'd be easy not to... and every time he shows me one of these things I think - how smart am I? I didn't even KNOW how good your scrambled eggs were when I married you! Bonus!

Sometimes it's easy to get overwhelmed by things in my life that make me feel sad or worried or anxious, but it's a cold splash of water to realize that through everything, I have this smiley guy right next to me. He is the absolute best and I love him with my whole, entire heart. Here's to a million more, bud.

A Little Singy Song

I went diving into the black hole of Myspace this week to try to find this song upon the request of my coworker after I told her the over-romanticized version of my college days, surrounded by brick and ivy and coffee-shop songwriting sessions.

I love this song and am so happy these guys asked me to sing on it. It makes my heart feel like it's in Athens, just for a few minutes.

Happy Friday, dudes! Aaron and I are off to Tucson to celebrate our third anniversary by pretending to be rich for a few days at a swanky resort. I'll bring back some pictures and hopefully not a scorpion.

Dear Facebook Friend Pretending to be Uninterested in Politics

I know.

I know that when something becomes "cool" it's actually just becoming "uncool." When something gets talked about a lot, the quickest way to I'm-a-brooding-loner-and-you-want-me land is to act oblivious to it, or at least tell all of us lesser people why you find it boring or unimportant.

I am wondering though if you drive a car. Or if you like being alive and staying alive and not worrying about getting killed by bombs at Target or whatever your version of Target is because Target is a little too mainstream, you know? I am also wondering if you eat food, and when you do, if you choose what food it is that you eat, or if you just close your eyes and chew. Do you go to sleep without holding a knife and with both eyes closed? Do you have family members that you care about? (That one might be iffy but it's ok if you say no to a few of these.) If you got sick enough, do you prefer having a hospital available? If your house were burning down, do you prefer having a fire department available? Do you like the fact that other people are alive? Do you like watching Adult Swim? Do you like playing your guitar? Do you ever drive to another city and visit it and stay in a hotel or at a friend's house and then drive home, on roads? Do you wash your hair? Do you drink orange juice? Do you wear shirts and pants?

Then you have an interest in politics.

Sincerely,

Maria

Marriage Exhibit B

(Maybe you remember Exhibit A)?

I mean, TOTAL SWOON, right? Aaron thought to himself, what is the quickest way to her heart....and he was not wrong, my friends. He was not wrong. (The fall colors! THE COLORS!)

In other unfocused news, do you know what song gets in my head like, multiple times a week? I seriously mean multiple. I'll wake up out of a dead sleep on like, some mundane Wednesday or something and here I am, humming this song. I haven't even watched this movie in YEARS, though I should remedy that, I'm thinking. Something about this melody. I like Middle Eastern music, I think.

You're welcome. (Can someone who is up on their Serendipity trivia tell me if that's actually Obi Wan in that video? If it is I'm really sad about it but I'm not sure why.)

How was the weekend, friendsies?