Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Beyond Blogging Banalities ...

Oh, hello there. My calendar tells me it's Wednesday. And would you look at that? I haven't posted anything since Friday.

I've actually been rather busy these past days. Not so busy that I haven't had time to write, but busy enough that I've had things to write about.

And yet, I haven't.

Friday was an exceptional day, a transformative day. But I'm not going to talk about it. Because while I'm happy to put a lot of my life on display in this space, there are some things that occur that come imbued with the notion that they should remain unwritten. For now, anyway. It's not about jinxing them. It's about honoring them. And until such time as I'm able to reveal them fully, they should not be revealed at all.

Beyond that, though, the rest of my life is equally as enchanted, if a lot more everyday. The weekend was lovely, Saturday grey and chilly, just the way I like 'em. It felt far more "fall" than "spring," but I spent part of the day with mom tromping around her favorite nurseries, helping her stock up on interesting plants. And later, we watched "America's Test Kitchen" and had soup, because it was a very soup kind of day.

Sunday was sunny and cool. I spent a goodly part of the day at my parents' house, doing Mother's Day things for mom. During an afternoon break in the action, I came home with the intention of cutting my grass. At which point, the widely scattered showers in the area decided to unleash right over my house, just for a few minutes, just long enough to get everything really wet before moving on.

Thanks, weather. You're swell. Next time, why don't you take a bite out of every chocolate in a box and gnaw all the blooms off every tulip in the yard, too.

By Sunday night, I was completely beat, having done more that day than I do most days, and realized that my mom puts forth that level of effort pretty much every day of her life.

Which led to the add-on realization that I am a slug.

But Monday arrived and enabled me to rest a bit. Though I did spend a chunk of the day, in one-minute increments, checking Ticketmaster just in case Springsteen released some last-minute seats.

He did not.

And yes, I checked Craigslist but all the seats were in the third tier, which wouldn't suffice, as my mom's bout with vertigo a few years ago still makes her a little unsteady when she's in certain situations, such as steeply pitched arena seating. Hell, I'm not exactly sure on my feet in situations like that, either. (Doreen well remembers the show we saw with Jeff and Lee in Detroit. I'm pretty sure the ushers there were retired sherpas.)

So, yesterday passed, Bruceless. But I've seen him, what?, eight times since 2002? Nine times? I've forgotten. A lot. I've seen Bruce a lot. And I think it'd be nice of him to add another Chicago date in the fall and come back. If U2 can sell out Soldier Field twice over, Bruce can sell out the United Center again.

Ah, Bruce.

And here we are, this morning. I slept in because when my alarm went off at 6 a.m., I heard rain, which canceled out the morning walk. (I'll get on my treadmill later.) It's still raining lightly and everything outside looks extra verdant.

And my coffee cup is running low. Time to remedy that situation.


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