Why You Gotta Bring Up Old Shit?

People. I am in a hail storm of my past. All of a sudden, I am being pelted with correspondence from people I haven't heard from in over a decade.

And, honestly, I'm not sure where I stand on the issue.

On one hand, it's fun and exciting to catch up with people who were once so important to you. Then there are the moments when your former co-worker from Blockbuster Video (and housemate) sends you info on how to get in touch with another Blockbuster Video employee who you were close with only to write him and never get a response. I mean. I know it's been a long time and most of our potential conversations will consist mainly of, "remember that time we got drunk at AJ's* and then got chicken from Guthrie's?**" Then there's this kid, Lanie. I, in a sense, grew up with Lanie. She is the younger sister of two of my closest friends from childhood. And I have known her since she was born, but I haven't seen her in years. Her older brother Jay told me that I should get in touch with her because he felt she and I would be friends.

Then he told me a story about two Seans he was friends with who he thought should meet -- seeing as how they shared the same name. And a friend named Jay. As the story goes, it didn't work out.

However, this Lanie thing is sweet. (Say it like Cartman would.) She's into literature. She's metropolitan. She's tattooed against her father's wishes. She's been to the Folsom Street Fair. She's my people. Or she at least understands my people.

So, what I'm saying is that I am reconnecting a lot lately and it's either working out or it isn't. I just find it curious that it is happening so suddenly and so abundantly. I'm sure it's totally a lesson. And seeing as how I just bought the Brain whatevercompetitiongame for Wii, I hope I don't miss out while trying to beat Erica's highest grade.

*AJ's, depending on the night of the week could be replaced with, Bullwinkle's, The Moon, Poor Paul's, or a slew of other bar names.
** Guthrie's orders never changed. They only had 5 things on the menu. Chicken Sandwich. Chicken Box. Slaw. Fries. Soda.
People. They were that good.

Sis-tah

I have a younger sister (A) with whom I have not had the best relationship. We went through phases when we were younger when we would get along. But mainly because Mom was forcing me to take her everywhere I went because she thought A would be the perfect rat. (Not to be confused with "A" of HRH fame). Of course, the only way to get her not to rat was to get her to do the bad stuff with me. Which is why A started drinking at 13 and probably why she ended up a chain smoker with two DUIs.

Since I left home, A and I have barely spoken. Even when I would go home for extended periods of time, we would hardly acknowledge each other.

And now, I'm buying her a ticket to come visit me.

I'm not sure how I ended up paying, but her coming up from Georgia came about because in the past few months she and I have bonded over our frustration with Mom. That's what a sister is for. She's the only other person on the planet who completely understands what a freak show your mother is. It's comforting.Anyway, A and I have been talking more frequently and I find myself playing the role of therapist. I guess I think that since A and I have basically the same issues, seeing as how they were contracted from the same person. And, since I spent double my deductible on therapy sessions only to find that "deductible" doesn't really mean anything to Oxford. It's like they throw out this arbitrarily obnoxious number in a "as if you could possibly reach this in a year" and because I live in New York, I surpassed it -- twice. Turns out, not important to Oxford. They don't pay back. Ever. Sorry for the digression.

Moving on. I used my vast intelligence gleaned from my 1 hour sessions every Tuesday with Mary who sat and struggled not to roll her eyes at me, to help A deal with our mother. A unfortunately has been locked in Hotel Fitzgerald Georgia with Mom and her shot at escape is looking grim. So we've been talking and one night I suggested she come visit. Long story short, I just purchased two tickets from Georgia for her and V (my neice/biologically her daughter/legally my mother's as per White Trash Dictum 97.54B-201.)The kicker? They're coming on Valentine's Day. The exact date of the last time A flew to New York. But that time was because Mom was convinced that if she stayed in Fitzgerald she'd end up dead and it was up to me to save her. My family interactions are very complicated.

It worked out well, as you can guess. Two months later I bought her a ticket back to Georgia. Round trip because it was cheaper. I threatened her with a severe beating if she tried using the return portion.

Flash forward seven years and she's coming to visit as per my invitation. We sent text messages and I have to say that up until just now I didn't realize why I was so uncertain about this visit. I truly try not to be a pessimist, and maybe I'm overreacting (right, Cindy?) but ... I still feel that I'm going to end up feeling used at the end of this.

me: ok - feb 14 atl-nyc 8pm, feb 19 nyc-atl 3pm. good?
A: that sounds good.
me: k. i'm gettin them. save dem dollaz.
A: k
me: u r soooooooo xcited
A:

Who's a Jetsetter?

Today I was up at 4AM in a car by 5:20 and on a plane by 7. I was in West Palm Beach by 10:30 and on the road by 10:45. I did two site inspections at two different mansions in Palm Beach and was back at the airport by 1. My co-worker kept sending texts making jokes about, "are you having fun yet?" and things like that.

And my people. I was having a blast. I felt so cosmopolitan, so Thoroughly Modern Millie I could barely stand it. If I hadn't recently lost my Armani sunglasses while out with a couple of 25 year olds, it would have been the perfect day. The transportation was flawless, the places were amazing, the weather was gorgeous and because of my corporate card, I was able to get into the Crown Room on the way back.

I was home by 7:00.

I think the best part of the day was an IM conversation I had today that started after I got a phone message accusing me of screening my calls.

TP: i would have answered your call but I was on a plane and they wouldn't let me use my phone.

Dan: a plane?? where the hell are you?

TP: palm beach. i'll be back tonight.

Dan: u r 2 mucho

TP: I told you. I am a big time event producer. I flew down this AM, looked at two insane mansions and now I'm back at the airport where I plan to drown my "flight delayed" sorrows in free drinks at the crown room.

Dan: mansions? crown room? who the hell are you?

TP: I am The Princess.

Hi My People.

Sorry I've been gone so long. It's January and January is our busiest month at the office. Three of our largest clients have their two largest meetings in January ... This year two of them are within days of each other. We have people who are flying from the first gig in Vegas directly to Palm Beach for the second.

Plus, I usually wrote the blog at work and then I got called out for being a slack ass -- it was true. I was spending the majority of the day blogging or IM-ing HRH. (You guys remember HRH. She was that other person who blogged here until she added another person to her life, the well blogged about Quotation Mark, A, Close Quote.) So, I've straightened up and have actually been working at work. Anyway, that's where I've been.For HRH and "A" ... Looks like we got some loving going on and HRH is gonna focus on her little Wii master right now. Remember that fun, have to spend every minute together, excited to see them every time to the point you get butterflies phase? That's where she's been. She'll be back.

Anyway. Don't take it personally. I still love you.

Another Friday, Another Holiday Weekend

I saw someone shoplift tonight.

I was at Brooklyn Industries (50% Off All Women's Sweaters & Outerwear!) and I saw this whole scene play out. I didn't realize what was going on at the time, but what I figured out was, this woman and her kid walk in to the store and start looking at stuff close to the door. They keep setting the alarm off "accidentally" -- which is blamed on the kid -- so that the clerks no longer even look up when it buzzes. Meanwhile a guy -- later revealed to be the friend, maybe husband and father, of the woman and her kid -- stuffs a sweater in his bag and walks out. I see him when he does and when the alarm goes off, it's definitely him who sets it. As planned, the clerks take no notice, and he's out. Another guy in the store comes up to me and asks if I saw the sweater he laid down by my things.

A few minutes later I run into the woman, the kid and the guy walking together down Seventh Avenue.

I've seen one other shoplifting in action. My friend and I were in a mall in Baltimore shopping at the Gap. (Also having a good sale) We walk around a rack of jeans and see this kid crouching on the floor, frantically shoving jeans into his backpack. When he sees us he freezes. (My friend Sam is a large, intimidating ex-con who has seen the light and gone straight.) Sam says, his hands held in the air in a no-worries gesture, "It's not my business." And we keep walking.

Seconds later we see the backpack kid make a mad sprint through the door with the alarms blaring and the oh so preppy Assistant Manager on Duty feigning an attempt to run after him.

This kind of stuff amazes me. Maybe I should be the kind of person who intervenes when she sees wrong doing, but I really don't have a problem with it. First of all, a few pairs of jeans are not going to hurt the Gap. And the kid who was stealing them maybe had a good reason. Maybe he was taking them home to his family who couldn't afford to buy them. Maybe he wanted his brother to have a nice present for once on his birthday. Maybe he was going to sell them for crack. Who knows.

And that little crooked family who is exploiting their toddler ... how does that happen? What life circumstances could lead to someone thinking that's okay behavior? Now I know that there are truly bad people. And Smoking Baby knows I believe in sociopaths, but I also believe that for the majority of people, they're led to bad behavior by shitty circumstances.

Tonight I was talking to Dan and he told me about a murder that happened in his apartment building Christmas night. After much drama and Law and Order police-line-do-not-cross action, he found out that what happened was a drunken fight between two young guys that had moved out to the sidewalk. One of them pushed the other and when the guy fell, he hit the concrete in such a way that he died. The fight lasted for about 3 minutes and now one person is dead and one person's life is now most likely going to be spent in prison for murder. Imagine that. Being a white trash girl from South Georgia, I have been in several drunken fights in my life. (Ok. One was in New York, but it was someone else's fault.) And I've pushed people down. (In New York, I slammed someone down on a Pac-Man table game, but that's a story for a later post.) And I can not fathom how I would even begin to handle the repercussions if I had shoved someone down just right (or wrong, I suppose) and taken their life in a stupid late night drunken fight over something certainly ridiculous. Like the rules to Quarters.

Happy New Year!