I Love You. Goodbye.

Do you remember my brilliant cousin, K.C.? She's the singer/songwriter. (I mentioned "brilliant," right?) Today's her birthday. And, it made me realize I never told you about her new album: The Tag Hollow Sessions. It's awesome. Duh. But, guess what? One of the songs on the album... IS MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. (I'm a little possessive.)

Maybe I should tell you the back story.

When she produced her last album, Orchid, she did it by asking her friends and family to become her record label. She explains it better here. If you contributed at a certain level, you could choose for her to write you a song. Like I wasn't going to choose that, right?! Well, it turns out, you can't just flip K.C. to "on" and watch her crank out a song. Who knew? So, I patiently waited for my song... 

Then one day she sent me a message saying she was writing my song. Yay! As it turns out she had read this blog post. Go ahead. Read it. I'll wait... Finished? Good. Could you write a song out of that?! Me either. We suck. But, K.C. doesn't. She took that blog post, coupled it with my real life, and wrote this:

"Just in Case" (Click the song title, you can hear it on iTunes. It's song #13)
I don't wanna answer the phone.
These days are taking their toll
'Cause it's never good news calling.
And you. You are my port in the storm.
You're what I'm waking up for.
You remind me the sky's not falling.

But, just in case there aren't any more tomorrows,
Let's not waste one drop of our love on sorrows.
Just hold me close, knowing our time is borrowed.
Just in case there aren't any more tomorrows.

I was never fond of surprises.
I like the way the sun rises.
You can count on it every morning.
But, now, so many people around us,
They ain't got nothing but sadness.
And it came without any warning.

So, just in case there aren't any more tomorrows,
Let's not waste one drop of our love on sorrows.
Just hold me close, knowing our time is borrowed.
Just in case, oh, just in case

The hands on all the clocks have stopped.
The life that we once lived is lost.
I don't want to be full of words
I wish I'd said,
I wish you'd heard.

So, just in case there aren't any more tomorrows,
Let's not waste one drop of our love on sorrows.
Just hold me close, 'cause baby our time is borrowed.
Just in case there aren't any more tomorrows.

..........

Holy crap it's good, huh? And, it's MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. (Well, and Shawn's, too. But, mostly. MINE.)

She's brilliant.

And, that leads me to this:

I just heard another song. An oldie, but goodie. And, it sums up how I feel about this blog.

"Too Busy Being in Love" by Doug Stone

Songwriters: Gary Burr, Victoria Shaw
If I had taken the time

To write down a few lines

Every time you crossed this heart of mine,

I'd put them all in a book.

How much time would that have took?

The words and years have a way of slipping by.

Oh no! Too bad. There goes the chance that I had.

I could have written a play so sweet and so funny.

Given old Mr. Shakespeare a run for his money.

Written the words to the prettiest tune

That would never leave a dry eye in the room.

My only excuse for not doing enough...

I was too busy being in love.

Yes, I was too busy being in love.

Brand new phrases appear every time you are near.
All these words you inspire after all these years.

But I never reached for a pen.

Break the mood that I'm in.

Before I knew it the words were gone again.

Oh no! Too bad. There goes the chance that I had.
I could have written a play so sweet and so funny.

Given old Mr. Shakespeare a run for his money.

Written the words to the prettiest tune

That would never leave a dry eye in the room.

My only excuse for not doing enough...

I was too busy being in love.

Yes, I was too busy being in love.

I could have written a poem to make young lovers crazy.
Could have written a movie for Hepburn and Tracy.

A beautiful song and it starts with your name.

Written my way into fortune and fame.

But I have no regrets for not doing enough...

I was too busy being in love.

Yes, I was too busy being in love.

..........

Y'all. I love my family. I love my life. It's not perfect. By far. But, it's mine. And, I love living it. And, right now, I don't want to write about it. I just want to live it.

I've lived long enough to know to never say never. So, I'm not saying I'll never come back here to post. The next time I find a potato chip that looks like Abe Lincoln, I am so coming back here to write a post about it. But, until that earth shattering occasion occurs...

I'm too busy being in love.

Bye, y'all.

Camp!

We picked Spence up from camp this evening. To quote one of my friends, "He was third-world dirty." And, tired. But, so happy.

Lulu was so glad to see him, too. We took them out to dinner when we got back to town. Spence made her laugh so hard it was like her tickle box got turned upside-down. It was hysterical. It was that darling little kid laugh that makes everyone else laugh, too. Heads in the restaurant were turning in joy to watch her joy. And, then she announced, just as loudly as she was laughing, "I just laughed so hard I TOOTED!"

Speaking of. Each boy in Spence's cabin painted a square that were all hooked together to created their cabin flag. Everyone took home their individual piece. This was Spencer's:

He said it was the "Atomic bad word."

I said, "Oh. Ok. The Atomic Bad Word?"

"Well... The Atomic Toot."

"Oh. That's funny. The Atomic Toot."
"But, not 'toot.' The bad word for the word 'toot.'"
"Ohhhhhhhhh...." You see, I have my children convinced "fart" is a bad word. For that matter, so are "stupid" and "shut up."

And then it dawned on me. "Were you allowed to say that word at camp?"

With the proudest yet sheepish smile on his face, he drawled, "Yeeeeeees."

Once he found out he could say that word, I bet he said it every. other. sentence! I mean, he made it his camp banner.

And finally. His bags. I pretty much thought "Ewww" with every item I pulled out of them. How are things crusty and wet at the same time? I pulled some letters out of his bag. He had actually written them at camp, he just never mailed them. Eh. That's 50% success. Anyway. One of them was to Lulu. This is what it says:

Translation:
Dear Elizabeth Ann Johnson, Lulu, Libby, Louis Von Lewiston,
Do you want to know what my favorite thing at camp is? Well, do you? Well, you have to guess correctly. It was Arts and Crafts.
Love, Spencer
[and then he drew her tic-tac-toe games to play]

Heart. Melted.

P.S. If you're not my friend on Facebook, you might not have seen the camp 'do. Spence has begged for years to get a summer buzz cut. Finally, since this was our second year at camp and Shawn and I were fully aware that no comb would touch his head for a week (I mean, our greatest hope was that some shampoo might actually touch it), we gave in to the buzz cut plea.

May I introduce "The High and Tight."

When he went to bed the day he got his hair cut, he told me, "It's awesome being me!"

And Then? My Foot Got Barfed On.

My 20th high school reunion just happend. It was... meh.

No. I take that back. It was AWESOME to see some AWESOME friends that I hadn't seen in far too long. AWESOME to promise each other that we wouldn't wait another ten years before we got together again. But, the try-to-hide-in-a-corner-because-I-hate-chit-chat-and-worry-that-people-will-think-I'm-a-bitch-because-of-it sucked. As usual.

But, overall... so glad I went.

Friday night's event was just my high school's graduates (Monterey High School, Lubbock, Texas - GO PLAINSMEN!) at a cocktail party. Saturday's event was a combo reunion with the other two rival high schools in town, Coronado and Lubbock High. It was at a cool new rooftop bar in town. The reunion started at 7:00, but the bar wasn't closed to the public. So, about 10:00 the college kids started rolling in as college kids are wont to do at that time. (Do you remember when 10:00 made you think of heading to the bar, not jammies and the couch?!)

So. The college kids were there. One of my friends overheard one of them say, "I'm trying to get to the bar, but there are all of these old people in the way." Ouch.

But, I headed to the bathroom with a friend. While I was finishing up in my own personal stall I had the disquieting thought of, "Did my foot just get wet?" I looked down and saw... splatter... from the next stall had made its way into mine. And, then I heard it. The distinct sound of barf splashing down in the toilet next to me.

My foot got barfed on.

I ran out of the bathroom in horror (while stopping to wash my hands - I mean I'm not gross. Just because my foot had been dishonored didn't mean I had to sacrifice my hands as well), mumbling to my friend, "myfootjustgotbarfedonmyfootjustgotbarfedonmyfootjustgotbarfedon."

But, here's a couple of things I would like to say to the nameless college beauty that brought such honor to herself and hers last Saturday night. First of all: hit. the. toilet. Gross. And, secondly: Who barfs at 10:00 at night?! What is this? Amateur hour? At least we "old people" know how to hold our liquor!

So, that's it. That's my best anecdote from the reunion. If you didn't go to high school with me, stop here. If you did, or you're just really interested in watching other people's home movies, keep going for some of the pics.

Some of the AWESOME people who made it AWESOME
Friday Night

Mindy, Kelly and me
I went to school with Mindy from FIFTH grade through twelfth. Wow. That's a lifelong friend!
Kelly and I were pretty much tied at the hip during high school (with our other friend Lenna who rudely chose to have a baby a month ago and, therefore, couldn't make the reunion. Geez. Some people just don't think of ME when they are doing things. Do better next time, Lenna.) At one point Friday night, Kelly and I were sitting on a couch together and another friend walked by. She said, "You two. Sitting there. Together. It's like it's twenty years ago!" I love my BFF.

Jessica and Jennifer

Amy and Kelly. The Broome girls. No relation. (I have no idea why I think that's so funny...)

Mikey (you can't call a grown man Mikey. You have to call him Mike. Or Springer. He looks at you weird if you call him Mikey.) and Kim

Saturday Night

Jennifer, me and Cressinda

Um. This is exactly what it looks like. I wanted to have boobs as big as the other girls. Some things you just never grow out of. Or should I say, never grow...
This picture is the most representative of our behavior during the weekend.

And here we are acting respectable.
Cressinda, me, Jennifer and Jill

Jennifer, Kim, me and +1 (I mean, Ana!)

me, Jacki and Anna

Jessica's husband. He took my nametag from Friday night and wore it throughout Saturday's event. Then, he just waited for people to ask. His most common response: Sex Change.

THE GIRLS

The Lost Husbands Club

Very lost...