These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Who knew this weekend would ever actually arrive?
My older sister and I don't get along. Never have. I think it's because she used to stand on my hair and kick me in the kidneys. Anyway, this post is only peripherally about her.
She moved to California decades ago and had two kids. I barely know them. Two summers ago, her son was visiting my mom and decided he wanted to get to know me. He showed up at my office and he, his younger sister and I went to lunch. I was surprised -- and a bit disturbed -- by how much he knew about me. I guess I have become an object of some fascination, the stuff of family legend -- The Mystery Aunt. During that lunch, he told me that was going to start saving to come back to Chicago for his 21st and that he wanted to spend that milestone in Chicago, partying with me.
Oh … kay … I was shocked and surprised but also flattered. And confused. Why would a strapping young Los Angelean want to spend his 21st birthday partying with a pudgy middle-aged stranger? But I said yes. How could I not? At the time, the summer of 2008 seemed so far in the future.
Well, it's here. Over the last two weeks, he has sent me literally dozens of emails … Where are we going? What should we wear? How will we get around? What do I like to drink? He has accumulated $200 in cash -- is that enough? Etc., etc., etc. He arrived in town last night. He's staying with my mom and is celebrating his birthday with her today. But tomorrow, the Big Day, we're having dinner and his first legal drink at a restaurant that was featured in the The Dark Knight.
We interrupt this blog for a special message
Just your average 58-year-old/father of three teenagers/future of rock and roll vacationing in Italy. It's so nice to have an objet d'lust that doesn't make me feel like Mary Kay LeTourneau. Thanks to Cupcake for finding this for us. And thanks to the Good Lord for imbuing me with the creativity to wonder which I'd remove first: the trunks or the clunky necklace thing.
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