The Bad NewsFeed

I've been super sensitive to social media causing me many waves of anxieties and have been sticking mostly with Instagram as of late. However, things have been slow lately and Facebook has been my "down time." This is never a good idea.

Yesterday, among the weird quotes and pictures, the people posting inappropriate jokes and political statements, I read a sad, sad update. To preface this, this news came from the wife of an old friend and she tagged him in it, which is the only way it came in our newsfeed. Before I leave the bad news in the blog, a little back story if you will.

I went to school with the same twenty kids from 3rd grade to sophomore year of high school. I wasn't in the popular clique, I wasn't in the "losers" group, I was just a weird middle. If you ask my best friend she'd say, I "got along with everyone." My mom was that mom who wanted me to hang out with certain people based on their parents. Like, "Oh they own that restaurant chain ya know? Her dad is that litigator. His dad runs his own business." Seldom did I get along with those kids based on stuff like that.

There was this one popular goofball boy and I always thought he was kind and hilarious, with a slight mean streak from time to time, but he seemed not to be bothered by me. In fact about 9 years ago he said, "Oh come on Ali, you'd be pretty hard not to remember." Mostly because I was loud. I have a lot of pictures of us in groups together.

My first introduction with him outside of being in my grade was kind of awkward. My mom had just spearheaded a grief group at Hospice of Lancaster County for children who had lost their parents to terminal illness. She desperately wanted this boy and his sister to attend. She pushed me to make it sound cool, as I was usually drug along to these things to make more friends. He came to one to play once and we did okay. He never really talked about his dad's death and to this day I'm still unsure of exactly how old he was or what happened, just that when I found him in 3rd grade, his dad had passed away prior.

We were never best friends, nor did we confide in each other or hang out often. He came to my birthday parties, Halloween parties, he did the act that followed me in the Talent Show, a skit from one of my favorite lame movies at the time, which I have somewhere on VHS. When we left St. Anne for Catholic High, 8th grade to High School that is, we were friends and he always said "hi" to me in the high school halls, cafeteria and at football games and dances.

When I left and moved, until Facebook came around we fell out of touch but when I sent that friend request, he accepted and it felt kind of cool ya know? Like we could keep tabs. We'd never been able to connect the few times we messaged each other when I was home to visit but I saw his family pictures and successes running a charity or non-profit type thing. I believe he named his son after his dad, and got married on his late father's birthday or something of that nature. I always admired him for growing into a good guy through that loss.

It was yesterday I saw an update that his wife posted with the completely heartbreaking news that their 3 month old daughter had passed away and everything just kind of went hazy for me. It was the saddest thing I've ever read. I was completely shaken.

This might seem weird, because we're not even that great of friends right? We haven't seen each other in like 18 years, and we don't even talk, so why am I so affected? Because I'm a mother, and because I'm a human.

There was a Parkland shooting survivor that killed herself this past week. We have friends that live in New Zealand and the shooting there has rocked the world. Then I read about this poor baby girl passing, which is just horrific. Is there really anything else to say about it?

Weeks ago at church they asked me to volunteer in the nursery and I declined, unsure of if my schedule would allow. Hours after I read that terrible Facebook announcement I got a reminder that I needed to watch the babies in the nursery tomorrow and I just about started to cry. I had successfully distracted myself but then it just all hit me at once.

Losing a parent when you're so young is just completely shattering, but you are forced to continue no matter how the growing pains. I don't know this from anything but proximity to such loss, rather than personal experience, so if I'm wrong, feel free to tell me. Now this poor guy and his wife have lost a child, and their son has lost his little sister. I honestly couldn't think of anything worse.

I'm not sure how she passed and I'm not sure I need to know. I'm not going to reach out and try to befriend him but I'm saying all my prayers for their family, without a doubt. This isn't an entry about sending them love and healing vibes or rallying emotional support. For me, this is about the profound occurrence of feeling something for someone somewhat removed from your life, because as a parent and human, you don't want to ignore the suffering.

I think of his wife just feeling so completely broken and blaming herself. I think of him losing 2 immediate family members in 34 short years on this planet. I think of his son missing his baby sister. They just posted family pictures a month ago. And I think about all of this happening around social media. Because if we didn't have that would I even know?

My best course of action is prayer and hoping that if they have some kind of donation in the baby's name I can participate. I won't send a condolences card or flowers. We don't really know each other anymore, but as a mother and and old friend I just feel like carrying some of this with me right now.

I know that sounds depressing and what a huge bummer of a post, right? But as a person who is healing and feeling a lot lately, I just wanted to be present in this reality for a bit. I know we can easily be removed from news of shootings, suicides and death in general right? Until it hits home? This hit a weird version of "home" for me.

So to my old friend, the one that made me laugh and stayed kind to me, just know you're in my prayers. You'll probably never read this, but if you ever happen upon it, my best wish is that someday when we meet again, the sadness and devastation will have lifted enough for me to make you laugh. I'll be over here hugging my daughter a little extra, and tomorrow's post will be lighter!!

In Remembrance Of Luke Perry - My Twenty-Something, 90210 Late-Comer Obsession Will Live In Infamy

It's become a running joke between my dad and I that he notoriously allowed me to watch completely age inappropriate things from about the time I was 7 and on. I wasn't allowed to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was 5 because it promoted violence and fighting, but watched Pretty Woman with my parents when I was 8. Hmmm; not the best judgment.

At the hands of my entire family I was exposed to highly inappropriate movies, shows and themes, but because I was preacher's kid and completely naive, most of the innuendos went way over my head. I watch these movies now and I'm like...um wow!

Anyway, one show on my dad's radar that was kept from me was 90210. When this show hit it big, I was still a Saved By The Bell, Full House, and TGIF kinda girl and also slightly younger than the audience that got to it first. My dad never let me watch it calling it, "Soap Opera crap" and then muttering something about Tori Spelling's lack of talent. 

So, I never watched 90210 in it's prime or all it's cool, trendy glory. In fact, I didn't discover it until the summer after my 16th birthday when it was in syndication with soap operas on the likes of Fox, CBS, FX or some such. I was home alone a lot when I lived with my mom, so I started watching re-runs.

Finding them in the order of how the show progressed was tough, as it may have been still producing new seasons at this time, but I loved all the drama. And I recognized some of the actors from other things on my radar.

I didn't get into it again until I was 23. We were living with my aunt and I was finishing college. She had "the good cable," and 90210 was on 2 hours a day. I happened to be in between full time jobs and home to "study," often with the house to myself while it was on. I had just so happened to have caught it starting the cycle again. I was hooked and it became part of my daily routine. I got up early to go to spin and classes, then came home to reboot before my afternoon classes, and there it was!

Funny fact that I JUST remembered: I was actually watching 90210 when Eben called me into another room to propose to me. I was annoyed that he was bothering me because I was "watching my stories" as we used to make fun. Spoiler alert: I said yes!

Now I was still never home enough to catch the whole series so I was left with all kinds of plot holes and trying to figure out what events came when in chronology. Remember this was still WAY before Netflix, Hulu and any sort of availability to watch whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted.

Fast forward another 3 years and we are renting my favorite apartment and living large with the good cable in Florida. My work schedule allows me to 90210 binge-watch on FX before my closing shifts and I'm obsessed. The pug and I curled up and devoured every juicy moment. I was a die hard team Dylan and Brenda girl, but the Kelly stuff was compelling, I will admit.

Fast forward again to me at age 28, and having my daughter. After a rough first 6 weeks of life, which I've referenced a few times in my blogging before, I had never been so happy to be home and breastfeeding on my couch. Despite all the studies on TV making your child an idiot, I watched an insane amount of Netflix, movies, and series when I was up at night breastfeeding and throughout my days at home. Sorry not sorry, it kept me sane. And that was when it all happened.

On my maternity leave, 90210 aired for 4 hours a day; two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. The played in order and the series had just begun. I was only like 4 episodes in, and I had seen those before, so I knew. Every day Luna and I would tune into the drama. Steve, Andrea, Brandon, Kelly, Brenda, Donna, David, Valerie, Ray, Noah, the guest stars, the touching episodes, the bad corny ones, they were ALL THERE.

Because of being a stay at home breastfeeding mother I was able to watch all of 90210 and fall in love with Dylan McKay like the rest of them. Even so close to thirty I was hooked and, in my opinion, it was better late than never! So if you think about it, thanks to Luna I achieved my 16 year-old-self's goals and dreams of devouring that entire series. Go me!

So yesterday, when the news of Luke Perry's passing was posted on every social media outlet it, made me really sad. This happened just after last week they spoke about a possible re-boot of the series. Luke Perry was definitely known for his portrayal of the heart-throb, bad boy, Dylan McKay, but I also loved him as the leather clad hero in Buffy the Vampire slayer, the movie not the show, and he made an appearance in one of my favorite episodes of the highly underrated show, Raising Hope. 

He was a talented actor. And he was only 52! But what surprised me is so many of my mom friends were like, super depressed and affected by the loss. For most of them, this was their first serious celebrity crush and his passing is like the end of an era. Here we are, grown up, adulting, and some of us raising girls of our own and Luke Perry's death not only brings to light how old we are, or how short life is, but maybe also that our teenage years are just super gone now. Times have changed a lot, and always will.

It's sad to think his family lost him, but I just know there are so many women completely heartbroken that their first TV love is gone, may he rest in peace. The posters, the teen mags, the fan letters, and I think they had Barbie-like dolls and collectible things are all in remembrance of him. 

For me, he will live on forever through the likes of Hulu and I'm sure I'll bait Luna into watching it someday so she can make fun of me. But for now, and at least for me, 90210 will be that weird series that epitomized my late-bloomer status in life and allowed me to fall for that rebel without a cause like the rest of them, even in my almost-30 postpartum days. 

You'll find me binge-watching 90210, going back to West Beverly High on Hulu as my way of paying my respects. Thanks for everything Luke Perry!

Challenge 14: What's In My Handbag? Okay, No One Calls It That Anymore.

What is in my handbag? Do women still have a handbag? I thought we call them purses, bags, or a satchel even? Wristlet or clutch maybe. I haven't heard handbag lately. Currently I am sporting a Betsey Johnson small backpack much like Cher and Dion in Clueless or Elaine Benes of Seinfeld. I thought I was being cutting edge but seemingly all the cool kids are in on it now. 

My purse is always a mess. Complete with receipts, the general "woman supplies," hair ties, bobby pins, hair clips, lip gloss, chapstick, a pocket mirror, pens, a few business cards, the wallet, stray jewelry and change. Also any papers I'm "supposed" to review for later and various unopened pay stubs.

I don't miss the diaper bag days. I also find it sad that as we move into motherhood we are seemingly downgraded a purse, which we grow up to feel is as tantamount to being a woman as tampons, and handed a bag filled with everything your baby needs to the point of no room for anything we might need in there...besides a wallet with cards to pay for more baby stuff. My husband went to the lengths of finding me a purse by my favorite designer that could actually be used as a diaper bag and was even styled as such. It was still one of my least favorite mom moments though, because the cute diaper bags are rarely useful. 

Purses are fun and also a curse in a way. We feel naked without them like we are forgetting something. And we always have to find "The right one." Not to mention the trendy ones are always expensive. I had a friend who lived and died for Coach purses. Another dreams of Fossil. My mom went through a Tommy Hilfiger phase. Now I'm sure it's all Michael Kors and Kate Spade. I will always be a Betsey Johnson gal, myself. Some are desperate for the Louis Vuitton. 

The handbag question is personal and kind of ridiculous in actuality. Most of us carry the same staples but our bags hold all of our personal and private things. Sure, men have a wallet but how much can you really fit in there? Unless of course you're George Costanza. Purses are definitely and blessing and a curse for womanhood. Regardless, our handbag is our handle, if you will. We love to accessorize and match for special occasions and every day needs. They are just another way to let us express ourselves.

So whatever is in your handbag, and the mundane things that are in mine, those are unique and personal, much like the bag we choose to throw it all in! 

The Old, Boring, Married Couple

I’m not even sure we realized it. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but we made the shift into the old, boring, married couple. I blame the dog.

We went through a phase a few years ago where staying home was social death. We were broke all the time because we hated our tiny, little apartment and our tiny, little existence so much we had to escape. Escape = bar, restaurant, concert, whatever! But it was never cheap! Even when we moved in with family, then we had to escape the drama that created so we were never home and we never had money.

Before the puppy, we weren’t out all the time but we generally reserved being at home for sleeping and getting ready to go out. The dog just gave us a great excuse to be at home and really enjoy some down time. Our old apartment started wearing on us, though. We hated it. In retrospect, it was kind of a shit hole, but it was what we could get, easily and fast, when we moved across the country to our brand new life. We took what was in front of us. We did a few upgrades and always tried to be the social couple, inviting people over, but we still loved going out. Who doesn't?

Now, though, things have changed a bit. We don’t have much time to go out together. We don’t have much time to do much of anything together, so we're conservative with our time-spending choices. We live in a brand new, bright space. I’ve worked really hard on making our home an oasis. The dog loves it, and we love it. We like being there, why go out?

We’ve had some personal revelations too, one of which definitely comes with age: Going out and drinking; not so worth it anymore. It’s great fun with friends and there are always nice occasions but, it’s not a necessary thing anymore. We barely even drink at home, and when we do it’s a glass of whatever or two, max. We’re not party animals. We’re lazy animals. We like to relax and watch our Netflix Instant Queue. We like to curl up with the pug and unwind. We kinda like to be left alone.

I have days where I barely even touch the computer. I’m not constantly on it looking for entertainment and distraction anymore. We have days where we don’t even use our phones to speak to actual humans, we just text. We are boring, wonderful, homebodies. But maybe that’s not so bad.

There is something comforting in being relaxed with the person you are in love with. It’s nice when you don’t have to wear make-up, or care about whether or not you stay in your pajamas all day. It’s cliché and very typical, but being that comfortable is awesome.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re active. Bike rides, jogging, using the fitness center and soon enough a new gym membership will come around, but we value our down time so much, we really make it count. I’ll spend many hours making the house spotless, all so on our only day off together, we can master the art of doing nothing. I love days with lazy mornings, late breakfasts, long walks with the dog, and watching new movies together. One crazy cleaning spree every once in awhile is just par for the course.

Sure there are those moments when you worry you’re “too comfortable,” and that the joke of the thrill being gone, and sarcasm about being boring and married, isn’t much of a joke but at the end of the day, it’s all about growth and growing up.

We’re a year away from our 10 year high school reunion. We’re finally settled into steady workplaces, paychecks, and routines. We’re finally, pretty friggin’ happy! This is something that is anything but boring for us. It’s exciting! We’re talking about epic leaps into grown-up-hood on the horizon. New car, matching furniture, real vacations, new electronics, business gatherings, nights out with other couples; what’s boring about that?

Okay to some people the above list is just sad, but when you’ve finally found your happy place, it’s actually comforting. College is about completing your requirements to get this done, to graduate, to get that internship or that job. It’s all about getting to that one, single goal, but things are constantly changing. Life evolves from day to day. One day you’ll wake up and realize that things aren’t what you ever thought they would be. For some people, this realization is tough to accept, for others it sparks new opportunities and challenges. You have to embrace your old, married, bored-ness and make it count!

You have to ask yourself what you really want. If all you want is a home-cooked meal or even Chinese food delivered and a great movie on a Saturday night, that’s okay! Wear it with pride. You don’t have to go out on Saturday night and drink and party! You don’t have to go to the beach just because it’s a gorgeous day. It’s so easy to get caught up in what the rest of the universe is doing, don’t forget about what you are doing and what you WANT to be doing.

What do I want? I want a nice cup of tea in the evening while I’m arguing with my husband about what series we should watch. I want to grab lunch while we’re out running errands before we come home to spend quality time with the dog. I want to rearrange the pantry to make it more efficient. I want to snuggle up with my Kindle and my little family more often, without worrying about all the other things I could or should be doing. I want to be boring, and be old, and be married.

Maybe we did fall into the couples vortex and we’ll never get out, or maybe we’ve stumbled into normalcy, maturity and that elusive idea of happiness that felt so far off just last year. Either way, with us Chriss’ and the pug, we’ll always have our own, un-boring, un-old adventures…after our chores, errands and workdays are done…and so long as it’s not too late!