clickmom

opening

Dedicated readers want to know: How did the opening go?

Verdict on the opening:  Great!  (Cue Happy Dance!)

Here is the long version:  I dragged a reluctant Evan over there an hour early to do some last minute get ready stuff.  I was going to try (third time!) once again (and not all that successfully) to level my prints.   I needed to set up a wine (go drunk impulse purchases!)  and cheese table and a table with the price list, postcards, my business cards, and most importantly, a guest book so that I could see just who came.  

The guy who was doing the tastefully simple demo on the other side of the building was already there, and he had a huge spread laid out.  He set me up with one of his extra tables when it turned out that the table I had planned on moving to use weighed about 300 pounds and wasn't going anywhere without some wheels under it.  Cool.

I put out all the stuff I wanted to put out and made another attempt at leveling.  Some photos cooperated, some were beyond my ability.  I shrugged it off.  Time was running out and I didn't want to start sweating my make up off.   The husband, Matt and Josh showed up with the beverages.  Which, BTW, was going to be Two Buck Chuck until the husband and I went to the closest Trader Joe's and found out that only one TJ in the garden state has a liquor license and that we'd have to drive about 45 minutes in the opposite direction to get some Two Buck Chuck.  That wasn't going to happen, so the husband patronized our local wine store for some 6 buck something else.

The opening started at 2 and by 2:10 there was a steady stream of people coming in and out and really looking at my stuff.  (the looking and the steady stream of people part is what makes me so happy)  I stood in pretty much the same spot right near the door from 2 until the end at 4 and tried to say HELLO and THANKS FOR COMING and chat a bit with everyone who came by.  It was incredibly interesting to me to see people from all the different parts of my life wandering through the gallery at the same time.  There were gym people there, babes, my new new undead therapist (who bought a few more prints!), my high school friend, editor and a couple of people from the paper, neighbors, one of my step sisters showed up, and of course, lots of mom acquaintances.  

The two hours sped by, at 4 o'clock people started filtering out and we quickly swept the remnants of the 8 pounds of cubed cheese and two cases of not as cheap as I would have liked wine back into my reusable grocery bags, and we headed home.  

In the end I sold 4 large prints and 2 small prints.  But the thing that makes me even happier is how many people just came and looked.  That felt really good. I'd like to reach right now and give them all a great big hug.  Honestly, I know how nauseatingly corny this sounds, but I really feel like I know who the good people are in my life are right now - and that includes one of my favorite commenters who was willing to spend half the day on a train to get out here just for the opening.

Speaking of good people, WIldmom was not able to attend because she was in the ER.  So if you have any connections with the higher power upstairs, please put a good word in for WIldmom.  In a fair world, she would not suffer.

new read

I found a new blog to love (though it's been around and popular for some time-always the last to know over here) and she is MEAN!  Or maybe she is just brutally honest, the brutally honest kind that I can only be in my head and I think ....  I love her.  I am totally not going to link her because linking and me, eh, not a good history there,(and she doesn't care for that bully who spoiled linking for me either!)  but if you want to read her she is (again, not a link, type it in yourself) violentacres.com.

There is some really good old fashioned mommy blogger tongue lashing back in the archives of Oct 2006.  She hits the biggest ones.  I adore her outlook on the highly marketed in vogue pack leaders of the group.  I just love that V (her self appointed moniker) does not hold anything back!  giggle giggle heh heh heh 

Me?  I couldn't write the stuff she writes, I could only read it late and night and squeak "Yes!  You tell it like it is girl!"  and then snicker into my lap top.  I'm not getting any getting to heaven points for this, but I don't care.

Newsletter: Month One Hundred Ninety Two

Dear Matt

Today you turned 16.  Well, you're not quite 16 to me yet because you were born at 1:20 in the afternoon so for a few more hours you are still 15 in my reluctant to let you grow up because ultimately you will move out of my house and that kind of makes me want to cry heart.  It turns out that I didn't write a newsletter for your first through 191st months because, well, the internet wasn't really invented yet in the early years and then as it turns out, go figure but, I'm not dooce, but hey, better late than never right?

I can't believe you have been in my life for 16 years. It seems like just yesterday that I woke up from the general anesthesia wondering which of us had died during the botched surgical procedure (some people refer to as birth) which I was positive one of us wasn't going to make it out of alive, only to be presented with a little back-hairy pimply side burned cone headed wolf man puppy baby that I decided to and instinctively loved with the ferociousness of a mother tiger guarding her baby from a pack of hyenas despite his appearance.

You got cute fast and by 6 weeks were a clear skinned adorable completely hairless smiling little round headed ray of sunshine.  (Except from 7-11 pm each night when you had the colic)   I recall each passing week looking at you and thinking it was impossible to feel more love than the love I was currently feeling.  And every week later I would I would marvel at just how wrong I had been the week before because each passing week later I loved you even deeper and stronger with a passion that I could never have imagined before I had felt it.  It's about 840 weeks later and I can say that while the shock of how much I am capable of loving you has toned down a bit I can in all honesty declare that I still love you more with every passing day.

Recently you came across an old polaroid of you sitting in front of the electric keyboard we tried to give you piano lessons on when you were 7.  You must have liked the fact that you were sitting in front of a piano, an instrument you have recently reinitiated lessons on, and you propped that polaroid of the short haired shinny little piano playing you-boy up on your book case.  Other than his clear water gray blue eyes, this little kid bears little physical resemblance to the tall broad long haired man-boy that lives with me today.  And those beautiful eyes are typically hard to spot under all of the dark brown curls.

Luckily for me, you are the kind of kid who cooperates when I tell you that I need to snap off a few pictures in order to write a sincere letter to you that sort of mocks this other blogger's sappy monthly newsletters to her own kid.  And also, even though it looks like 99% of the time you are hiding behind that hair, you will almost always let me push it out of your eyes so I can peek at those peepers and marvel at your still young skin.

You were always a cooperative kid, you hopped in your stroller when it was time to leave the playground, and you went to school even though you were not thrilled by it.  You "played nice" long before the other kids had gotten the hang of sharing or even taking turns and for that reason you were totally the most popular toddler in the neighborhood.  As you grew up you always kept your even keel and your sweet charm and parents wanted you around their kids as the good calming influence you could be.  

Eventually you chose your own friends though and you have a habit of choosing friends that you want to "help."  You tend to choose friends that need guidance in behaving age appropriate, or need cheering up or simply need a friend.   Once you told me that your friends chose you and not the other way around, and I can see why kids would gravitate towards you.  You are still the same kind and gentle kid that used to try to put the diaphanous fallen flower petals back on the flowers as we walked the dog down the streets of Brooklyn.  I just hope that your delicate friends have as much to offer you.   

I think that your current group of friends do have something to offer you.  I see them showing up to cheer you on (actions speak louder than words, it is more true every day, please remember that as you go through life) and hear you perform with your band.  I know they call and text you and try to arrange gatherings.  At least the girls do, and girls wanting to surround you and encourage you is a good sign.  Even 16 year old girls recognize a quality guy when they see one.

And I do too. In the past year I have noticed how often I want to share the minutia of my own days with you or seek out your opinion on a photograph, and even, though this might not be the best idea, rant a bit about who ever is getting under my skin at the moment to you.  And you always amaze me by coming back with a well thought out observation or comment or even some advice.  And I see that you are becoming my friend as you are growing up and becoming this very fine man that you are becoming, who will always be my son, my baby, but is also on his way to being the kind of adult that makes this world a better place.  

It's one thing to look at your boy and tell him he'll be a man one day, but it has been a much different experience to look at my boy and see him becoming a man.  You are becoming a man who is everything I would toss into the mix if I could pull up a cauldron and create the best man ever.  You are smart, thoughtful, funny (hilarious actually), you have a great warm smile and booming laugh, and a creative and sensitive soul, and even though I don't get the music you listen to, you sit down and write incredible lyrics and music and sing in your soothing lull-a-bye voice lovely little touching universal stories about your own broken heart,  you enjoy entertaining little kids, you are courteous and polite to adults, and when I say I need your help you will pack up the car or carry something heavy or fetch your brother from school at 3 o'clock.  Then you tell me you love me.

You are the real deal sweetie, and I love you.  Happy 16th birthday even if we disagree because I insist you are but you don't agree that a boy can be sweet sixteen.

Love,

Mom

not funny laughing

I went with Matt last weekend to see his high school play.  Matt had done behind the scenes work on it, so he was particularly interested in seeing the performance.  I was prepared for a good play, as Matt had told me that a good deal of the students were professionally good.

Matt and I bought our tickets and took our seats in one upper corner of the auditorium.  (assigned seating- we didn't get there early enough) From the very first moment the main character stepped onto the stage two girls to the side and behind us began laughing (as in big booming guffawing over blown fake laughing) AT the main character.  The girls were so incredibly rude.  My blood began to boil.  The girls laughed and laughed through the whole first act at completely inappropriate times, and never at the truly funny parts of the play.  The wonderful acting boy simply went on and on and he managed to give the audience a broadway worthy performance despite the hecklers behind me.  I would turn around from time to time and tried to give the laughing girls the evil eye, but they only looked at the stage and wouldn't meet my gaze.

I hoped the laughing girls would leave during the intermission, I saw them chatting with their oddly scantily dressed friends, flipping their highlighted hair, and appearing to privately ridicule (at least that's what my imagination assumed) the show.  Sadly for me, the two laughing taunters returned to their seats and continued with their harassment of the main character.  Finally I just completely snapped and couldn't take it anymore.  I whispered to Matt "Would you die of embarrassment if I said something to those girls?" and he shook his head NO.  I stood up, leaned over towards the girls and shouted "GIRLS!  SHUT UP!" and they looked at me all wide eyed like I was the crazy one.  I continued "YOU"RE RUDE!" and then in a surprise maneuver the louder of the two girls leaned in my direction and started to say I was the rude one, when the lady who had been sitting directly behind me came to my defense and then I sat back down real low in my seat.

Those words had come out of my mouth much louder than I had intended them to come out.   When the play was over I slunk out of the auditorium and high tailed it for my truck.  Then I burned a little rubber getting out of the parking lot.  I was most definitely not looking for a confrontation.

I hoped that no one in my corner of the auditorium knew who I was, but sadly, I am the only one who never knows who anyone is, and people around here seem to recognize me an awful lot.  It wasn't totally a surprise when Matt came home from school today and told me that Ms. soandso asked him if it was his mother who yelled at the girls during the play.  I was like "Oh, gawd, nooooo." and my heart crept up towards my mouth.  Then Matt said Ms. soandso asked Matt to thank me.  Whew! 

schoql

This is taken from Josh's teacher's web page:

Do you think I should be worried that the woman who is supposed to be teaching my kid how to spell uses a Q (that kind of looks like a prepubescent male symbol to me) to spell SCHOOL?

Hung my show today!  The best part was that I had 4 x 6 photos of al the big prints and I had laid them out at home to see how it all looked together and when I (with the help of a few wonderful women) put it all on the wall it looked just like I had imagined it would look.  I was very happy.  It's big and bold and clean looking- according to me.  It is what I was going for with this show.

I am still seriously hurting from the fall on the stairs.  Everything from my ankle to my neck.  I really did a number n myself and am not sure if the gym is a good idea tomorrow or not.  There is a machine that I could use for cardio that makes a person push pedals with their arms, but I think I would feel silly using it.  Also, my upper back is part of the problem.

Since I didn't in the least bit "stay off it" the last two days during my framing, wiring, packing for transport marathon, I feel embarrassed to complain.

Let's change the subject.

Two Buck Chuck.

Any one ever try it?  Which one, there are four.  It was suggested that I get it for the opening.  I'm a little afraid about how many people are going to show up. I invited everyone that ever smiled at me, and the other dude invited over 400 people and then I found out that other Art League Board Members (like Peanut) were doing their own inviting.  Kitten thinks I should spend more money and get a better wine.  I think I should put a bottle of the good stuff under the table where Kitten and I can get to it and give everyone else Two Buck Chuck.

I'm pretty sure that I am now officially one the "old moms" at the elementary school.  I think maybe young moms look at me like that, but the reality is that when the young moms try to talk to me I stare blankly and think to myself "Why are you talking to me little girl?"

I go bump in the day

I changed my mind halfway up the stairs today and turned to go back down, but ended up slipping and falling (thud thud thud thud) with my left leg twisted up to the side and behind me.

Diagnosis:

Pass the advil.

Seriously.

Left ankle and knee: bruised and swollen

Neck- Ooooww

Upper back: ha ha ha ha ha, yeah.

and Oooowww.

Right butt cheek: tender

Lower back: twinging

Overall: How much potato vodka (or maybe gluten free beer)  can a girl safely mix with advil?

Tomorrow is hanging day!

Very excited.

hey dad

I live in split level house that was renovated.  In the previous attic - now master bedroom floor that has my bedroom on it is a big  hall closet at 3 o'clock, my "studio" door at 12 o'clock and my bedroom door at 9 o'clock.  So that means my bedroom door faces the big hall closet.  When you walk into my bedroom there is a short hallway with closets on both sides and a bathroom before it opens up to the bedroom area.

A few nights ago I woke up at 4AM and saw a light coming into my room.  Thinking the husband had gone down stairs for something I got out of bed to make sure all was okay.  I faced the door to my bedroom and saw a bright light outlining the closet.  Rays of whiteness were shining out around both doors of the closet and I was viewing it from down the short hallway of my bedroom.  It looked heavenly. I realized that someone had put on the closet light in the hallway.  I turned off the light and wondering who would have done that, since in the 8 years that my bedroom has been in the attic that hasn't happened,  I fell back to sleep.

In the morning I mentioned the closet light to the husband and he said "That's the fourth time this week that light has been on!"

After dad's attempted and failed catherization, dad, knowing his time was limited,  smiled and said he was looking forward to seeing mom again, and he and lil sis and I talked about the ways that dad has known mom is still around him.  (Lights going on or off, papers pushed off tables, etc..)  Lil sis and I asked dad if he was going to haunt us and he said he was going to turn on our closet lights and play with our doors.

Hi daddy!

there is a lot in a name

It was Evan who helped Josh with his sentences the other day.  Fine wine?  Country mansion??  That is completely Evan.  So is private jet, yacht and house hold staff.  Hopefully the recession won't last too long.  Evan is growing p fast.

It was also Evan (along with Matt)  who named some of my photos for me today.  Matt went with names that were reminiscent of his favorite bands or childhood movies, like Fox and The Hound.  I was framing the prints up for my upcoming show (Clap, Jump and Squeeeaaaal!!) , and I have to write out a price list and I kind of need names for my photos.  

Evan pitched in with the naming too.  I suggested the boys use the thesaurus and find some interesting obscure poetic sounding words to give the photos an edgy mysterious intellectual aura.  Evan, on the other hand, had his own ideas, he named one print Pimp Staff of Rah, one was Elephant Graveyard, and along those lines one was named MooFasa (his spelling, not mine).  Evan was also excited about the print he named "Sheniqua" and also thought the follow up name of "Sheniqua's Lipstick" for the bright pink sunset shot was a real ace name.  Then Evan got the brilliant idea of naming prints after the whole crew of the altered imagination due to ingestion of certain magical fungi known which is also known as the kid's show, Backyardigans.  So the next few prints I frame up are likely to be assigned the titles of Uniqua, Tyrone, Austin, Tasha and Pablo.

Luckily, I not only have veto power, but I have the thesaurus too.

flavors of a fallen friend

Have you seen this totally bad acid trip I'm thinking about becoming a vegan commercial with the ham eating pigs and the one pig says  "We're just enjoying the flavors of a fallen friend."  WTF folks?  I can't even tell you what the commercial is for, but the ham eating pigs just might be enough to push me right over the edge and into some other bizarre kind of parallel alternate universe.

but only after the night maid turns down my bed and fluffs my pillow

Yesterday was the dreaded spelling word write a sentence for homework night.  All my kids just hate(d) that homework.  Last night Josh got a little help from one of his big brothers.  Here is the sentence Josh handed in for the word retire.  

"After fine wine and cheese I retire to my countryside manor."

Guess which big brother helped Josh with his homework last night.