I turned 33 and there was no fanfare

Once you pass 30, birthdays get innocuous and people seem to care less. When you’re young, your mom bakes you a cake while you put on your fancy party dress and prance around the house. The novelty just seems to wear off when pink clashes with your self tanner, prancing would cause things to shake and come crashing to the floor, and you find yourself at the bakery buying your own birthday cake…

“Just put a big 33 on the cake,” I told the baker.
“What color would you like the writing in?”
“I don’t really care.”
“Well who’s the cake for, a girl or a boy?”
“It’s for me.”
“Oh.”


On purpose I went to two places on my birthday where I had to show my driver’s license. Starving for some sort of menial attention, I pointed out to both disinterested cashiers, “It’s my birthday.”

“Um, oh, Happy Birthday.”
“Yeah, thanks.”

But at 10:28 p.m., like my mom used to do, Matt sat up with me until the digital clock rang out 28 after and he planted me a big kiss. “Happy Birthday, honey.”

Fort Myers Beach

My mom, my brother, and I went on vacation together to Fort Myers Beach, FL, and we just got back last night after 8 days and 7 nights of family bliss... I mean it, we actually spent all this time together and we didn't get into one fight; instead we had a great sun-filled, beach loving week.

My brother, if you don't know, suffers from psoriasis. Every treatment he tries works at first, and then his body learns to fight it. Recently, he's been on embrel shots and they have really improved his skin condition, but now his body is fighting it and it's losing it's effectiveness. So my mom has this theory about the healing power of salt water -- which in fact is a remedy for psoriasis, but maybe milder cases -- and she's beginning to take Tony to salt water locales.

She's never really traveled alone, she's either with my grandparents or my dad in tow, and I don't blame her because traveling with Tony is not a vacation. So for this trip she asked if I would join along and give her a hand -- both as chauffeur of the rented car, as companion, and as general comedian. Of course I would go!

We were so late checking in because we couldn't figure out the self check in, and we had to wait in a huge line. Then another line for security. As we were sauntering to the plane, I looked at my watch and said, "We gotta run." We were the last people on the plane and we sat in the last row. Ugh, no reclining seats and my view out the window was .... The engine. So I couldn't see anything and there was a constant BRRRRRRR I had in my ears for three days. I started to get claustrophobic... And do you know you have to PAY for a snack on the plane now? $4 for chips. No joke. So my advice, stock up at the mini mart ahead of time.



So how did we like Ft Myers Beach?? We loved it! You cross over the bridge into Estero Island and all of a sudden everything is in pastels. The island is one very long street with small streets and waterways veining east. The island can't be more than a mile wide. And every view is filled with water but the main attraction is the beach. It's just a long cool stretch of white fine sand, blue umbrellas, and sunshine. The water is shallow and warm, no riptides or huge waves and Tony could just lay in the water without any problems. It was low season so there were no spring breakers, only families and nice people. No show offs, no skinny minnies, no one looking at my brother as if he were an alien. Everyone was nice, from the people on the beach, to the hotel staff, to all the restaurant people (especially when my brother has to ask them "Do you have kids?" "Do you like Bonanza?" "Do you like Sean Connery as James Bond the best?" "My hair was blond like yours when I was a kid." -- these are all actual statements made to all different people).

It's summer, so it's hot. Everyday was 91 and 3 nights we had horrible rain storms (70 mph winds). My mom will tell you about me glued to the Weather Channel. I was panicking in case of a hurricane, but nothing happened. But back to the hot sun ... I got so tan and I was wearing 45 spf and sitting under an umbrella with 15spf. So that's how hot the sun is down there -- but you get used to it and now I'm freezing here!!

We stayed at Diamond Head Beach Resort where all the rooms are suites - 1 bedroom, living room, and kitchenette. It made it so easy with Tony because we had the fridge stocked with water and pop, we made sandwiches for lunch, and then ate all our dinners out. I say it was good for Tony, but really I love this concept, it made it feel more like an apartment rather than a standard hotel. And you can't beat being ON the beach and every room has a view. From our huge balconies (we had 2 suites with an adjoining door in the balcony) we viewed the water, from our front door we had a panorama of the island.

We spent 1 day at Sanibel Island, but only for swimming and eating -- we swam at Bowman's Beach (we had to stop a biker to ask for the best beach) and we ate at the Lazy Flamingo (Nicole's recommendation and it was great). The island is so pretty but really secluded and it costs $6 to cross over the bridge. You can't see the water unless you're at the beach or at a resort. I wouldn't mind spending 2-3 days to explore the island.

My friend Nicole used to live in Fort Myers so she gave us some dinner recommendations -- we went to Parrot Key Grill (bad on Monday, really fun on Saturday-- see my mom's video), Gulfshore Grill (best of all the key lime pies, and good priced specials), Beach Pier side Grill (I loved my grouper ceasar and the view), and we ate at our hotel 2x and that was surprisingly good.

We drove into Fort Myers one afternoon because I was on the search for Matt's gift and I found an art gallery with local artists, and they donate some of their proceedings to a woman's shelter. On the way back we stopped at Edison's Summer estate and took some pictures of these awesome Banyan Trees.

I can see how this place is a madhouse come Jan-April (which we heard were their worst months for crowds), but on the off season, the kitschy pink and feel of the island are actually charming when you don't have mobs of drunk 20-year olds hanging about. I would most definitely go back, spend more time on Sanibel, and also hit Naples and Marco island -- this time the trip was all about the beach for Tony.

When I get my mom's photos, I'll post everything on Flickr.

1 years old

Happy Birthday Guinness!

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?