Saturday, May 27, 2017

2017, Gangnam Style

I won't even make a snide remark about how I've not written a thing since December 2106.   Life's full and writing hasn't been a priority.  But I stole a few hours away to go to Barre class (oh, I work out now, it's a whole thing, tra-la-la) and then on to use up a Kohl's card and redeem my Kohl's cash 'cause I'm a suburban lady and I OWN the Kohl's game.

So I did something for myself, by myself, and some funny thoughts surfaced and enough time has passed to soften the embarrassment factor...but you're gonna have to wait til the end of this post.

January:  HAMILTON!  HAMILTON!  HAMILTON!  Just you wait!  We saw the show and it was a masterpiece, full stop.  For all the clips I watched and times I listened to the Original Cast Album (yes, I'm a pseudo-theater snob it seems),  the show lived up to and surpassed the hype.  Seeing the the character interactions and nuances of the performance made the experience so much richer than listening alone.  If you enjoy musical theater, American history, or both,  I highly encourage you to catch the nearest show when the touring cast goes out this year.  At the end of the show, I felt the same sense of awe and reverence I feel after a stirring sermon or time of worship.   It was that good.

 We had a great weekend in NYC, visiting the 9/11 Memorial, trying some fun eateries including Tavern on the Green (charming), and I decided that I never again need to experience the authenticity of a subway station.  It's convenient and affordable, but so is Uber.  And Uber is much less likely to smell like urine.  I'm a snot and that's fine.  Also, being accosted every 10 paces in Times Square? Nah, I'm good.

February:  2 words: Ew skit!  The things we do to amuse ourselves and maybe make teenagers laugh so they'll listen to our stories and keep listening to the gospel.  (Yes, of course I wrote the script.  Of course I did the Running Man and almost feel off stage.  I'm a housewife with frustrated dreams of fame and glory. You know I'm all in for a skit.)

March-April   We signed the girls up for T-Ball (Rach) and Softball (Sarah).  Both girls are pretty good hitters, but less enthusiastic fielders.  Sarah mostly enjoys chewing her glove. while Rach proudly scoops up some balls near 3rd base.  (Is she the 3rd base catcher?  Is that the right term?)  Both kids get a full uniform, we get parent buttons and shirts, which really is the whole point at this age.  J's league did not get off the ground this spring; hopefully, Mom can make the stars align and get the girls' dance and a potential gym class for him on the same night, in the same part of town.  Stranger things have happened.
Over Spring Break, we visited my sister and brother-in-law and their new baby, Emily!  It was a blast.  Lots of Instastories made that J replays daily, fun trips to museums and parks, and baby snuggles without the 18 year investment and life-long worry!

May:  Choir, Baseball, Ballet, and a Wedding.  Basically, I'm uploading a lot of my iPhone clips to increase my chances with "the cloud" and bookmark potential graduation and wedding video material.  I like to be organized.  I have also watched some old clips  from a few years ago and I'm kicking myself that I have not uploaded every cute clip of their entire lives, oh-my-gosh-two-year-olds-are-precious-when-you-only-watch-a-30-second-clip-of-them-and-don't-do-diapers-anymore.  Anywho, Cat's In the Cradle and all that jazz.  WHY CAN'T BABIES GROW UP BUT ALSO ALLOW FOR TIME TRAVEL TO PLAY WITH THEM AGAIN WHEN THEY CAN'T PRONOUNCE WORDS PROPERLY?  (I know, grandkids. Still.)

Hang around for that long ago mentioned embarrassing story. It's after these video clips.

Sarah's Speaking Part in the Spring Musical

Rachel, The Motivational Coach with help from Shia LeBouf

Which brings me to that anecdote involving my brother-in-law's wedding and living life Gangnam style.  My brother-in-law, Brett, and his new wife, PN, were married last weekend, joining their Vietnamese and American cultures and families, which required two ceremonies.  The Vietnamese ceremony was in the morning, the traditional wedding ceremony that evening, and by 8:30 p.m., we were ready to chow down on some delicious food and giddy up on the dance floor.  After the first dances, the floor was opened to guests and Gangnam Style beckoned me.  Like a bullet from a gun,  I bolted my way to the happy couple, making the "ride 'em cowboy" hand motions and corresponding gallop.  I was high on life, in my mind every bit of the "Hey, Sexy Lady!" the song highlights.

And then I noticed my legs were wet.

And then I slowed my roll.

I did the awkward, "I've run out of moves" move.

I edged my way to the wall and found the ladies' room.

I dropped my used and abused Spanx in the trash and rejoined our table, well, commando.

For the first time in my adult life, ever, I was without proper underpinnings.

My husband knew the moment I left the dance floor what had occurred.

As I told a friend, I took away two life lessons:

Never leave home without spare underwear, and know your limits.

But you know what?  Sometimes you have to be foolish, whether just to yourself, or to a whole bunch of people on the Internet, because life's too short to take yourself so seriously all the time.

I wish I had the same boldness in all areas of my life that I do when I'm charging onto a dance floor, weak abdominal muscles from labor and all.


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