Sunday, July 22, 2007

Life in the Blender

Tensions are running amok here in the Northwest.

See this guy? He rocks. He is MY rock. We are slogging through a nuisance lawsuit cooked up by his deranged ex-wife, the attorney fees of which have necessitated my 51-year-old husband getting a second job. As the old saying goes: Some days you eat the bear; some days the bear eats you. Maybe a bear will eat the ex-wife.

We are pushing my youngest son (18) ever closer to the edge of the nest, while my oldest son (27) is going to be back in the nest tomorrow, needing to get his bearings and re-settle in California after a fairly miserable stint in Arkansas. My stepdaughter is heading back for year three of a college education that is making her mother loony and her father a pauper. Blended family? Blenderized is more like it.

Seven weeks to Stanford, and counting. Have I mentioned lately that my scholarships and financial aid are paying every penny? I stare at the beautiful campus picture on my desktop and try to get through my head that I will soon live there, will soon be walking those hallowed halls with these tired old feet and laying my trifocals on wonderfully tough class syllabi. It barely seems real. I will be traveling there in ten days for a transfer student get-together/tour/advising opportunity. I am pinching myself repeatedly to ensure this is not a dream.

You know all those woo-woo new-agey theories about visualizing success and asking for what you want? IT WORKS! Of course, the visualizing takes place simultaneously with working your ass off.

In the meantime, I make little piles of stuff to take with me, and I tell people how to find the really big trees. Repeat after me: Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway. . . Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway. . . Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway. . . .