pride and a wonderful woman

One of my most treasured memories of my mom, from years back:

She had spent the week with me, piggybacking on one of her Longaberger basket demo trips, and we had a wonderful time. She heads home to Ohio on a Friday, I call her that night and tell her it's a shame she'd had to leave because the San Francisco Pride Parade was that Sunday.

We laugh, finish the conversation, say our love-yous and talk-to-you-laters, and went about our evenings. An hour or so later, my phone rings. It's my mom, giving me her flight info and asking if I could pick her up at the airport the next afternoon.

Um, hell yes!!

This woman got off a *cross-country* flight after more than a week away from home, then without hesitation turned around and booked a last-minute flight *right back again* for the next day to come join her daughter in California for a Prideful day in San Francisco.

How incredible was that?? And how much fun did we have?? So many smiles, so much laughter, so much joy. Somewhere during the day, she was adopted by a fantastic lesbian couple who loved that she flew out just for the parade, and their daughter was so giggly and animated and absolutely loved the beads and candy and stickers that Mom was snagging for her. It was a perfect day.

She flew home the next morning, tired, sunburned, and still smiling ear to ear. Such an amazing time, such an amazing person. I miss her so much.

-----

(A side story: This was back in the Olden Days, when taking photos meant you had to take film out of your camera and give it to someone to be developed into paper pictures. We had to get her photos developed here in California, because there was a risk that the store back in Ohio would either refuse to give them back to her or even call the police if they didn't like the content. I wish I could say we'd progressed since then, but <waves around at the state of things>.)

A resource if you need it

If you find yourself needing to travel to California for medical reasons and need a place to stay, please feel free reach out to me. The "why" is your business, I won't ask.

out of the shadows

This is my beloved bear Maude, named after my grandma. My mom made this bear 31 years ago (!!) from my grandma's chenille peacock bedspread. She's been through a lot with me, and I always kept her safe and up out of the way, not wanting anything to happen to a literally irreplaceable keepsake.

But life is short. Why hide the things you treasure away? So Maude is coming out of the safety of the shadows and will be cuddled and hugged and with luck, in another 31 years, I'll be taking a photo of a threadbare and well-loved chenille teddy bear full of memories.

hell yeah

A gazillion years ago (well, more like two, but it feels like so much longer), back in the BeforeTimes, our hero bought three tickets to what promised to be an epic day of music, camaraderie, dancing, and singing. The Hella Mega Tour had been announced, and the weirdly-synergistic combination of Weezer, Fall Out Boy, and Green Day were going to make their way across the globe. Through diligence, judicious use of alarms, and frequent refreshes of a web page, she managed to snag three primo Rainbow Unicorn VIP tickets, nearly dead center in the first row.

Then the wait began for the concert that was scheduled in the following year.

Then the wait continued, for The Plague descended and the concert was postponed.

And the wait continued continuing, as twice again the concert was pushed forward.

Then one day, the word came down: The concert was happening. Thanks to vaccines and masks, things were being dubbed "safe enough" to continue. Not fully safe, there was still risk, but it was manageable. Thus is life as a human: determining what acceptable risk was and learning to live within its parameters.

And then, six days before the concert, drama. The third member of the entourage backed out. Much disappointment, anger, frustration, confusion followed. Sadly, this member had a history of last-minute flaking, so while it wasn't a surprise, it hurt, especially since this event had been two-plus years in the making and was specifically done as a rare chance to do something big and fun together.

But sometimes life can give you opportunities, and we lucked out big time with this one. We reached out to a friend in a neighboring state and made the offer, not expecting anything given the state of <waves hands around at everything> things.

She said yes!! With vaccination and masks and common sense and a bit of caution, we could make it happen! And thus was lemonade made from lemons and a good (awesome!) time was had that would not have otherwise come into being.

Yay!!

It was an amazing time with an amazing friend who we hadn't seen for almost three years and we missed terribly. The timing and logistics were damned near perfect, eerily so. Picking her up in Vegas, dovetailing her working from our place with our own commitments so that no one felt like they were causing complications, the traffic to the venue, the parking being available, the weather cooperating, the merchandise line being the exact right length so that we all met up again right as we were being let into the venue, the VIP lounge (and the VIP bathrooms, an unexpected bonus), the VIP food (saved so much time and money), the VIP bar (ditto the time, though not ditto the money). Even when the day was over, the weirdly benevolent timing gods were still with us: our routines meshed beautifully, the decision making was easy, and even the trip back to Vegas was smooth and trouble free (and we even discovered a super tasty restaurant).

It quite literally could not have been any better. Oh, and the concert itself was INCREDIBLE. The backstage tour was fascinating, the seats were damned good, people were friendly and respectful, masks and vaccines were the order of the day, everyone was excited and happy. It was an amazing atmosphere of joy and shared experience.

The Interrupters opened and were high energy and so much fun. Then Weezer, with Rivers in his mulleted glory giving his all. Fall Out Boy were the spectacle they always are, with elaborate sets, elevated drum kits, fire-spewing guitars, a piano on fire, and a surprisingly high-res animated background that all came together for a hell of a time. Green Day were flipping awesome, Billie Joe was amped and the crowd fed on it and gave that energy back for a feedback loop that made the time fly.

I've seen the three main bands before, and have been to many Green Day shows (six? seven?) and they all lived up to the hype and the expectations and the weight of the delays and the world and the weariness and isolation we'd all been experiencing.

It was a once in a lifetime vibe and I'm so glad it happened the way it did.

And now, some pics:

How can you not love this poster?? It really set the tone for the whole thing.

A long day. We got there around 2pm so we'd have time to get merchandise and get in line early. It worked out brilliantly.

View from the stage, courtesy of the Rainbow Unicorn VIP backstage tour. (Plus bonus Staceyfinger (whoops))

Madame Brooke, me, and Will from the stage, with the hardcore pit folks already snagging their places up front. Our seats are straight out from the stage, right at that security barrier.

The three of us (and many others) masked up when we were around others and indoors. I love my puking unicorn. :^D

I was introduced to the glory that is "Taco in a Bag". I had never had this culinary delight before, but I'll definitely be having it again.

Taken in the VIP lounge (called "The Dive Bar" and decorated to match the name).

The Interrupters. They rocked.

It's funny...you know more Weezer songs that you realize. And *everyone* sang along on "Africa".

The spectacle that is Fall Out Boy. That guitar shot flames out the end and the top of the piano was literally on fire a bit later.

I absolutely love when stadiums are lit up by the thousands of people there with you. Goosebumps.

Hometown crowd made it a crazy high-energy night. This is one of the only pics I got of Green Day; I put away my phone and just reveled in the moment.

So much bouncing and dancing. So much awesomeness.

The incomparable Madame Brooke. A rare soulmate I am lucky to have as a friend.

A tired-but-so-worth-it Stacey and Will, getting ready to head home after dropping Brooke off.

10/10, would do again.

four years of green

Four years ago, my Aunt Monie sent me a plant, which was promptly dubbed "The MoniePlant" (even though it's actually four separate plants).

Here is my MoniePlant today, after multiple repottings and replantings and even a rescue mission.

(The one in the hanging planter started dying from the base, so I salvaged some clippings, put them in water until they grew roots, then potted them. They are much happier now, and I love seeing them.)

And here is the OG MoniePlant in 2017 (sadly, my aunt died the next spring, so this plant is even more special to me). I love seeing how it has grown.

her mother's hands

It was an odd feeling

When she looked down and saw

Her mother's hands.

There, at the ends of her own arms,

Resting quietly in her own lap,

Her own hands, and yet not.

She stared for a while, wondering.

When did they sneak in,

These undeniable signs of time passing?

Her mind drifted, her thoughts flowed

To hugs and talks and tears and smiles

And years and miles and pain and love.

All that was left now were memories

And a heart left wishing and sad,

But grateful for the time they'd shared.

It was a comforting feeling

As she looked down and saw

Her mother's hands.

may day number seven

So here we are, another May Day, another anniversary of "The Worst Ever Migraine That Wasn't Actually a Migraine Haha Fooled You". Six years of shingles-caused nerve damage to my face and head, six years of twitching and cursing and crying and learning things about pain that you never really wanted to know (like there is a specific smell to "pain sweat", and my posture changes when the pain is higher as my body unconsciously tries to curl away from the source of the pain, and that distraction can actually be a somewhat effective pain-management technique (but it's hard to keep it going for long), and that pain spikes lead to adrenaline rushes lead to adrenaline crashes).

So yeah, here I am. Thanks and hugs (and apologies and sympathy) to the folks who deal with the fallout, I'm lucky to have you. Sometimes when the mask slips, when the resources just aren't there to keep the wall up, you guys bear the brunt of it...thanks for putting up with it all. Love you.

And to show it's not all bad, here is one of many moments of joy: A silly pic caught by my friend as she, her kids, and I were dragging our "Wreck This Journal" around by a string (so much fun, seriously, you should buy the book and give in to the silliness).

Stacey and her pet journal going for
a walk around the neighborhood

achievement earned

 

one down

First shot done. Light at the end of the tunnel (assuming others follow through and help us all get through the tunnel together).

sharing the darkness

Ten years ago today, I took Will to see The Saw Doctors at Slim's SF and managed to snag this set list. That night, my ears ringing, calves cramping, exhausted and still smiling ear-to-ear, he asked me to spend a "reasonable facsimile of forever" with him (I said yes).

One of my favorite bands, one of my favorite people, one of my favorite venues, and one of my favorite memories.