For the Love of God (or the deity of your choice)...

Huh? What's That? I'm a UU*. One thing UUs do well is make fun of our faith. Or lack of faith, in some cases. Like this joke:

Q: How do you run a UU out of town?
A: Burn a question mark on their lawn.

When I told my Catholic friend that I was going to a church where you don't have to believe the same thing as everyone else to join (or anything at all, really), he asked, "What's the point?" Which is a good question. And the UU answer is that the point is whatever you want it to be.

So? What Is the Point? For me, it's about fellowship. You might remember I signed up for a theory class and also joined the choir (normally I'd insert a link to a previous post here, but I'm feeling lazy so you should click the tag that says "church" if you're interested in reading more about it - although the link probably would have taken less time than typing all of this). The theory class ended and the choir turned out to not be quite what I hoped for, though, so my plan to make musical friends at church fizzled. But then I saw a short paragraph in our monthly newsletter about a little production called "Follies."

I Am Braver than I Thought, Apparently Getting involved in Follies required me to contact a person I had never met before. This is something I'm not good at. Although, I'm better at it than I was before therapy (click the "PhD" tag). Thank goodness he gave his email address and I didn't have to call him or this post would not be happening. I sent him an email and he called me back and said that all the parts had been cast but that he could write me a few lines in scene III and I could be in the opening and closing numbers and could I come to rehearsal the next day. Whew! Three lines and a part in the chorus. Very manageable.

Really, I Carried the Whole Show I think I was possessed at my first rehearsal because I raised my hand when he asked if anyone wanted to sing a solo. And at the next rehearsal I volunteered to take over a part he was thinking about cutting from the show because someone had dropped out. And the next day he called to say that someone else had dropped out and could I take their part too, which required him to rewrite scene III again so I wasn't talking to myself. So I went from 3 lines and singing in the background to a bunch of lines and gags and dancing in more than half of the scenes and a solo "hula dance" at the end. Plus, I bowed 3rd from the last and got a great big cheer. And if you ask someone who saw the show about Zuzu? They'll know who you mean. 'Cause Zuzu is awesome.

I Am Zuzu, Hear Me Giggle What I discovered doing this (SRO, btw) show, where I made more than a dozen new friends in one fell swoop and became a familiar face to people I've never met before (like the dad who I still don't know who said what a good job I did when he saw me on my way out of Lulu's school this morning), is that I love audiences. LOOOOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOOOOVE audiences. I may have already known that, but I had certainly forgotten in the past 15 or so years. I was so comfortable in this highly amateur but still well-written and produced production. I relished hanging with the cast at late-evening rehearsals and giving input and making jokes and planning new gags. Rehearsals are a small sort of audience experience, where you can try out your stuff. And the night of the show, after the sanctuary had FILLED UP, when the opening number ("Dueling Banjos" played on banjo & tuba) was finished and I heard them for the first time, the crowd, the applause and the cheers, it felt so right that I almost cried. But that would have ruined my entrance so I didn't. Because I'm a professional. So to speak. From there it was a whirlwind of excitement and laughter and music and fun and energy, and I barely remember it. But in a good way. The way a person might barely remember saying their wedding vows or 18 hours of labor or other such powerful stuff. It was perfect.

What's Next? I didn't actually get to see most of the show because we only had 2 full run-throughs and I was on stage or backstage most of the time, but someone is making a video and we're all going to get together and watch it soon. I am not-so-patiently waiting for that little party. And I've made clear that they can call on me whenever they need someone to participate in anything creative. Or in anything, really. Like writing the Follies next year. And maybe I'll try choir again since I know some people now. And other things... If I can continue on this brave and rewarding path...

Go me!

*Unitarian Universalist

Katie Says:

I know you don't know Katie (she's in Lulu's class this year), but I had to share this with you.

I was sitting with Lulu and Katie and some other kids while they ate lunch the other day and we were talking about names and I was trying to get Lulu to say her full name so I said the only thing that seems to work, "What do I call you when you're in trouble?"

Katie piped up then with this: "When I'm in trouble, my mother calls me 'terrorist'!"

Oh, Where to Start... Where to Start...

Did you miss me? Oddly, while I've been away, I have found me. More on that later. For now, here's what my Facebook status says tonight:

[MN] was totally confused when the girls and I got home from [Pete]'s piano lesson this evening and found [Husbandguy] cleaning the kitchen. I had asked him to take care of dinner because whatever virus had been stalking me last week is finally catching up (I made it wait until after Follies), and the first thing he said was, "There is a showing at 6." I couldn't understand why he was thinking about going to a movie! What movie? And what about dinner? It was 5:00 when we got home. And what about [Lulu]? Was he thinking we'd take her? She had fallen asleep (hard) in the car so was he just thinking he and [Pete] would go? It had been so long since we'd shown our house that it didn't occur to me that he meant potential buyer was coming to look at it! Anyway, fingers crossed... It's not too late to postpone the piano tuner yet so I doubt this is the one...

To catch you up, the Follies is what I'm going to tell you more about later, our house is still for sale and we haven't shown it in about a month, and I had been waiting to call the piano tuner because I didn't want to get it tuned and then move it and have to get it tuned again right away but it was almost torture to play it so I called him on Monday and he's coming next week so if we do get an offer from this buyer, I still have time to postpone the tuning and not pay twice, thus preventing the cosmic practical joke. Also, that is too many characters for a fb status so half of it is in comments (just in case someone clever wants to call me on that...).

Welcome back, MN!

LL Says:

HG sent Lulu to look for something in her room and she yelled screamed at him that she couldn't turn the light on, and he said, "Is that going to help?" and she said, more calmly, "No. But you are getting up," which was true. He was on his way to turn on the light. Ah! Fine and consistent parenting in action.

Abby

Hey! Who's in Charge Around Here Anyway? Husbandguy doesn't think this is as funny as I do, but it's easily corrected so I'm enjoying laughing about it. Abby isn't sure whether she or HG is more dominant in our little "pack." On Monday, after he got home from work, great big HG had some trouble from our less-than-3-pound-puppy. She was doing this move near, not on, his feet that he didn't think girl dogs do (but they do) and which is an attempt to prove to the movee that the mover is more dominant. I think it's hilarious! The tiniest living creature in our house thinks she just might have more pull than the largest living creature in our house. HG, like I said, doesn't think it's as funny as I do. Yesterday I had him give her her dinner, and I am encouraging him to feed her and give her treats whenever the opportunity arises so hopefully the question in Abby's tiny puppy brain will be answered zippity quick. She didn't do it yesterday...

The Second Grossest Poop Experience I've Ever Had This morning, Abby correctly moved her bowels in the right place and everything, and when I was fumbling for her little puppy jerky treat, she turned and basically swallowed her... um... movement in one gulp. EW! SERIOUSLY?! EW!! The vet said to put meat tenderizer on her food and that would make her poop taste bad and she would stop, but I didn't have any meat tenderizer until I went to the grocery store yesterday so hadn't had a chance to try it and... EW!! SERIOUSLY?! Obviously I didn't give her the puppy jerky. And I did spike her food with MT this morning. I had suspected that she might be one of those dogs because of the way she was really, really interested in her poo, but I hadn't seen her actually do it. I wonder, though, if she's done it and we just didn't see because she didn't seem to be pooping much and her breath yesterday was very, very sour. Still, EW! But also, we love her and will fix it.

Color Abby's breeder thinks she's actually going to be a creamy tan color when she is all grown up. Right now, her fur on her back is creamy tan near her skin with black tips so she looks black unless she's ruffled. Does anyone know? Will she eventually lose the black. I don't care what color she ends up being. I'm just curious. HG won't speculate with me about it. He thinks it's a waste of time...

Catch Up

Lost in Translation At the veterinarian on Friday, the girls and I were waiting in the waiting room (as opposed to the bathroom, right?) and a lady came in with the scruffiest little poodle mix dog. His name was Ziggy. He was the cutest ugly dog I've ever seen in person. When the receptionist asked Ziggy's mom what was wrong with Ziggy, I could have sworn Ziggy's mom answered, "He's got boogers coming out his ass." I was shocked! Alarmed, really, that she would be so blunt, especially since there were 2 small children in the room with us (Pete and Lulu). I hoped they hadn't heard, or at least hadn't understood, her. But then the receptionist said, "Ziggy's got boogers coming out of his eyes? We'll have to do something about that!" Jeez, lady! Don't confuse me like that! I've only lived in this city 16 years. How can I be expected to understand the accent?!!

Wait, MN. Why Were You at the Vet? So you're probably wondering why we were at the vet, right? Because last you knew we didn't have any pets. I could tell you that we were just visiting, for old-time sake. But that would be a lie. Remember we were Eagerly Expecting something? Well, it came. And it's wonderful and fuzzy and... Oh! Just see for yourself!!

Her name is Abby. She's a dog. A maltipoo, to be precise. And she's teeny-tiny. Husbandguy wanted us to get a cat, but I wasn't interested in the cat hair and claws so I got us a cat-size dog. She weighs 2 pounds right now. Pete's a little afraid of her. Mostly because she's unpredictable and kind of mouthy, like most puppies, but she's a sweetie and follows both girls all around so I think Pete will get over it pretty quickly. So now we're I'm potty training and teaching her her name and getting her comfortable in her "room," which is our bathroom with a gate across the door. So far, so good. She's been here almost 4 days and has us pretty well trained, meaning she only has potty mistakes when we're not watching...

So there you go. That's what's new. And also, we've had pretty good traffic through our house. Even though it feels like sometimes our house is more on a tour than on the market, we're still hopeful...

Wednesday

I love the day
Gray.

We move the plants
From under the gable,
Watch the rain glance
Off the leaves, not able
To find the dusty,
Dry crust
Of soil below.
"It was your turn to water, you know."
"I am."

The sky
Moves by
On gray days.
Flowing,
Blowing
Fluffy puffs
Of laundry lint
With just a hint
Of denim
In them.

Pete Says:

The other day, Pete was looking for her black pants in a pile of laundry I was folding. When she found them, she noticed a little bit of grey fuzz on one leg. She dropped them back into the pile like they were slimy and this happened:

Pete: Ew!
MN: What's wrong? Oh, that's just lint.
Pete: It's yucky!
MN (brushing lint off pants leg): It's just a little lint from the dryer. See? It's coming off.

Pete (looking for something else to wear): I don't look good in lint.

Waiting

Is It Just Me? I keep getting this feeling like I'm forgetting something that I was supposed to do. But when I really pay attention to what I'm feeling, I realize that it's actually more a feeling of constantly waiting.

Eagerly Expecting A week from this coming Friday something very nice is supposed to happen, but that's all I'm going to say for now because I don't want you to judge me until it's been done. I know you don't know what I'm talking about, but that's kind of the point. And if you do know what I'm talking about, shhh.

Anxiously Anticipating Maybe this makes me a bad mom, but I am going to admit that I am looking forward to school starting. It's not just that I am ready for my girls to be gone from the house for several hours and not be constantly fighting with each other or pestering me to turn on the TV. Also, school starting means PTA and volunteering and SOMETHING ELSE TO DO. I think maybe I need a job. I'm glad we don't home school.

Suspensefully Supposing I am always waiting for the scheduling agency to call and tell us we have to leave our home for a couple of hours so someone can show it to its next owners. That hasn't happened nearly as much as it should be. Maybe it will happen more after the broker open house. Our agent promised a free bottle of wine to the first 6 agents who arrive. Hopefully, then, we'll get at least 6...

Finally Finished On the other hand, we got our own computer back yesterday, after more than a month of it being held hostage by some guy in the tiny town where Poppop lives to be "fixed." Again. After he fixed it wrong the first time.

I am hoping that this means that you will be hearing from me more often. Thank you.

Phooey!

First... Thank everyone for the help with our showing on Tuesday. It went so well that they immediately scheduled a second showing on Saturday. Tuesday was the wife, and Saturday was her bringing her husband by to show him what she'd found. Cool! We made the list!

So... I thought about asking for your positive energy again on Saturday but decided not to since I've been a terrible blog-friend, barely posting, rarely reading, never commenting. It felt like I was using you. I didn't like it. I was afraid you wouldn't like it. And also we had another first-time showing scheduled for Saturday. It looked like a potentially really great day.

We cleaned up and cleared out... We spent the afternoon with Moomie, who kept apologizing that she didn't have anything for me to do, but I was enjoying the company that is so pleasant and so rare for me during the summer and didn't mind at all. I showed her how to play Farmville on Facebook...

But then... I called home to check our messages after the 2 showings were scheduled to be over, and... sigh... the second showing had canceled. They didn't even come back at all. I don't know why. Maybe they found the perfect house among one of the few they saw before ours. Maybe the lack of extra energy had a muffling effect on the brilliance that is the life-to-be in this house. Maybe St. Joseph's feet need to be buried more than just by mulch (he's all the way up to his ankles in dirt - I just couldn't get any deeper). I don't know. I just don't know. It was discouraging, though.

'Sokay, tho The other showing did happen. I know because I left a dozen chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the (brand new, super cool) range, and when we got home there were only 8 left. We haven't heard anything about that, but it was just yesterday and today is Sunday so I'm not concerned or anything. And also, the house has only been listed for 10 days and this is only the second weekend we've been on the market and our agent has a broker open house scheduled for later this week and 2 showings in 10 days is pretty good in this market I think.

Still... It would be nice if this is a unexpectedly short experience rather than a tediously long one.