Matt's Graduation

It's been a while since a post. Mainly because I've been so busy /tired to even get on the computer, unless for work.

Last weekend was Matt's graduation weekend and his parents were coming to town and we were throwing a big MBA graduation party in the yard. At last count we had over 30pp coming - more than we've ever entertained and more than we had in chairs. I was pretty stressed out.

Matt's parents arrived the Thursday beforehand and that night we had dinner with both sets of parents at Adelle's - a restaurant down the street from our house. This was my dad's first time there and my dad is kind an Italian meat and potatoes man. The first thing he asked me was, "What are these numbers next to the food... 22, 18, 36..." He eyes bugged out when I told him they were the prices.

Matt's graduation party was on Saturday and there was still so much to do, so we spent all day Friday running around picking up stuff, only making it home in time for me to get dressed and get into the city for my great uncle's wake. Yes, a wake. These things come unannounced as you know. It was my grandpa's eldest sibling.

Saturday, while the rest of my family were at the funeral, Matt and I ran around some more -- this time we took his mom along to share in the craziness that is "party planning." Getting last minute food, lawn games, and setting up the yard, cleaning the house...

But the party was awesome. People trickled in and by dinnertime, we had over 30pp in attendance. Only 2 of our maybe's didn't show, it was incredible. I had the yard all cute with tables and potted plants, we got cornhole for the occasion, and I made a signature drink (lemonade + blueberry vodka); the day started off nice. Then is got so cold that everyone (I mean everyone) piled inside and we got all cozy in the kitchen eating ribs and pulled pork. Some people played the Wii, others were out in the garage playing darts. Friends I hadn't seen in so long came, and so did new friends and co-workers and neighbors. It was so nice and Matt cried after everyone left (midnight).

The next day, we honestly didn't move from off the couch . We were so tired (and hung over)and that night we went into the city for a Sox game. Monday morning, his parents left and we went to my parents for memorial day.

It was just such a busy weekend, we woke up at 7AM almost every morning, that the rest of the week was just us crying for more sleep and wishing work would go away. Last night I passes out at 8PM.

Book Review: Death by Suburb

I finished reading this book called Death by Suburb. I mainly wanted to read it because A) I live in the suburbs and B) the author is actually from the suburb I live in. In fact, I think he lives not too far from me (from what I can gather from the book). It's a simple non-fiction book where the type is 14pt so it can span 150+ pages. You can read it in about 2 hours.

The book is mainly divided into the 8 ways a suburban lifestyle can "kill your soul" such as being too obsessed with material possessions, not appreciating each and every day, and searching for the perfection in life. Pretty obvious stuff. Note: This book take a Christian slant.

According to the author, the lifestyle in the chicago suburbs (as contract to his upbringing in rural Nebraska/S. Dakota) can kill the spiritual christian soul if we let it. First off, I take offense to transplants to Chicago who act like they understand everything about it here. But then again, I started reading this book destined to hate it. Why? Because his first chapter is bad-mouthing the very town we live in. Even the beautiful Prairie Path gets reverted to a 2-lane mulched freeway.

The author, himself a victim to the lures of the suburbs -- the SUV, the perfect children -- explains how he traded up to the SUV. It was when a fellow church-goer said, "Oh it was you driving behind me in that grandma car." All I have to say is 1) Sign me up for that church and 2) who cares what other people say, are you not secure in yourself? I say this all, living in this same suburb driving around in a 1998 Civic with an anti-Bush sticker on my bumper. I've got to be secure!

So the author is definitely someone who has been manipulated by the idea he is judged by others. He wants to drive a car that makes others envious, he wants his kid to be reading better than the others. But as a Christian, he's in turmoil with what he was taught. It's obvious he was taught to be accepting and live life simply. As a non-religious person, I read this as the church is just yet another social sphere for judgment and condescension, as he demonstrates in his book (the cliques divided by wealth). He's just as guilty as the rest of them and that's why he's easily able to ID the problems. When I read it, I kept on thinking, why do you care what they say? Shouldn't you automatically be nice?

But in all fairness, I think the 8 "toxins" you can fall victim to can be true - if you let them.

One toxin was "I want my neighbor's life." The idea here was the immortality vs. mortality symbols. An immortality symbol, the author explains, is the SUV, the big car, the smart and athletic kids, anything that positions you as perfect, untouchable. A mortality symbol is losing your job, a special-needs kid -- all things that bring you down to earth. Those who have never experienced mortality cannot understand what it's like to have, for example, a special needs kid (and you all know I have a special needs brother, my immediate family is the poster child for mortality.) The solution was to make friends with those with no immortality symbols. In other words, when you live a mortal life and you have immortal friends, their pettiness will wear you down. Make friends with those who are also mortal - after all, we all are no matter what car we drive, there are those who just wish to hide it.

But I don't think they are "suburb-only" problems. It's an affluence thing. The higher you are up on the feed-chain the more control you want over your surroundings (i.e. perfection), and the more you are to value material possessions because you can actually get them. If you go to certain areas in the city, it's even worse.

We met a couple who told us that there are people who want to live in the up&coming areas in Chicago but drive their kids 10 miles away to the better schools. How different is that to the woman who took her kid out of the public school in the suburbs because a private education would be better?

Oh yes, this book is chock-full of little stories of how horrible people can be. How about the family that up and left in the middle of a little league game (with their kid) because she wasn't being played enough. Or the mom who demanded from the principal the scores to the kids who were above her own to "prove" they were really reading at a higher grade level.

But there are these types of crazies everywhere, and at every time in life. The important thing is to recognize them for what they are -- crazies -- and try to limit your exposure to them. For the author it's hard when you have kids and go to church -- we have neither. For now, we've always been friends with those who are kind, non-judgmental, and are true to themselves. Those who aren't seem to have an automatic aversion to us anyway, so I'm not worried. Maybe it's my car?

I'm melting...

I have this running joke with Matt that he’s like the Wicked Witch of the West.

I’m a total library fiend so needless to say, I’m there a lot. But everytime I’m with Matt and I need to drop off a book at the library, he waits outside. The times he does venture inside the bowels of literature, it’s because he needs to use the bathroom. If I actually come clean and say I want to browse a bit, he stays home. So all of this has led me to believe that he has some odd aversion to the library, much like the Wicked Witch of the West did to water: they will both melt.

He insists that it’s not the truth, but smirks at the thought. He also knows that I’ve stopped bothering him and now look forward to the library time as “me time.”

But lately I’ve realized it’s not just libraries. He’ll also melt if he comes in close contact with places knows as “gardening centers.” Last week I drove in to work and on the way home I was looking forward to stopping at this gardening center which otherwise is out of my way. Then Matt decided to come up to meet me and drive home with me. When I mentioned my intended rendez-vous, he said, “Forget it, I’ll take the train” as if the rendez-vous included a short imprisonment in a gulag.

Which is now what I realize these places are to Matt. They’re torture. Going to gardening centers and libraries – even with me – are torture to this man. Two places that I love, are torture to him.

Now, I can A) try and change him to come to love these places, B) leave it and just enjoy another place I can go for some “me-time”, or C) continue to find more places of torture**.

**There’s a great lingerie shop on Main St, maybe Matt wants to come with me?

AARP, please cease the letters

Not only do I receive emails claiming they have photos of my butt, but I've been inundated with mail from the AARP. "Do not bend, card inside" the envelopes claim. How can they not know that I am far, very far, from retirement.

I actually went so far as sending back the inserts with a note that said, "Please stop sending me this information, I am 32."

If this keeps going (I am after all turning 33 pretty soon), I'll soon be the right age. Maybe it's just a friendly 30-year reminder?