Heroes of Cosplay and my Banshee...

I like watching the SyFy channel. The shows on there are good and in spite of the occasional bad word, the girls can watch it with me. We watch Ghost Hunters together, we watch FaceOff together, and just recently, we all got hooked on Heroes of Cosplay. And no, I only let them watch the repeats with me. All these shows run during bedtime!

For those of you not in the know, Heroes of Cosplay follows a group of talented people at different ComicCons around the country. They fashion amazing costumes in a matter of days, so that they can compete in the various costume contests. It is very cool stuff, as we get to see the costumes start off in brainstorm mode, to actual work on the costume, to the finished project on stage. The judging on these costumes can get very intense but most of the participants remain steadfast that if they aren't having fun, then it is not cosplay.

The girls love to see the work that people put into these costumes! They build dragons, learn how to shoot arrows for a Merida costume, drive racing cars onto a stage, turn into Ironman...you name it! It is really hard not to get hooked on the awesomeness of watching someone put hard work into something they love and journey with them through their creative process. 

What I didn't count on, is that the girls would start to think about their Hallowe'en costumes in this fashion too. Pixy wants to be batgirl with functioning wings and well, we all know what Banshee wants to be: Irongirl, duh! I think I may have dug my grave here, folks! It isn't like I am a stranger to making things by hand or perfecting something someone else has done. I love to do that! In fact, when I was teaching, I was known for changing lessons, creating new projects, and even making a class movie full of costumes....just for the thrill of seeing your hard work turn into something cool. I am just not sure that I can ever reach the calibre of the costumes the girls are loving on TV.

The prospect of building/making these costumes by hand becomes more daunting, as we are considering taking the girls to ComicCon in NYC this year. Banshee, who is probably the coolest three year old I know, has some special friends at Marvel Comics that she'd love to visit with and meet in person. The Sailor and I want this to happen for her very much...but. Yup, here comes a big BUT....Banshee and Pixy now want to go dressed up. Sigh! I am buckling under the pressure.  What if I let them down? What if I can't make their costume dreams happen? What if, by some HUGE miracle, they want to do one of the kid contests? WhatamIgonnado?! Sigh!

Part of me is kicking myself. Why did I let them watch this show right before Hallowe'en? Seriously, I wasn't thinking. Now, the bar has been set high and there will be no return from it. The other part of me is silently giddy at the thought that maybe this opportunity might be good for the girls, especially for Banshee. Her ASD causes her to be shy and have social issues as herself, but put a costume on her and she feels stronger, more social, more awesome. Pair that up with the Pixy...well, now we have something super awesome happening. Something to think about, huh?

I am still in the brainstorming stages, and in the end, might just go with something pre-bought that we fix up and make our own. I will take it one step at a time. I just hope that the kids' judge, if the girls do the contest, isn't Yaya Han. (Pssstt...we love her!)

              What are your plans for Hallowe'en? Homemade vs. Pre-bought. Talk to me! :) 

Renaissance Family

Today was a great day! We decided to surprise the girls and take them to the Maryland Renaissance Fair. It is probably the best decision we have made in a while. It is full of shopping, good food, lots of entertainment, and of course the joust!! I don't think I have ever seen the kids jump into the car that fast...ever!

Off to Crownsville we went, all giddy with the expectation of crossing off items on our personal 'Renaissance To Do list". Sailor wanted to eat a turkey leg or two, Pixy wanted her hair braided, Banshee wanted to take a picture with Queen Katherine, and I wanted to look at getting some new shoes for my pregnant-sized feet. (Yes, they are all kinds of swollen now.) It was exciting to know that this year, the girls would really get to enjoy the whole thing and take part in it.

We decided to get both girls' hair braided and then immediately off for a ride on the elephants. The girls looked like two cute Renaissance maidens with their hair in braids and escorted for a ride by their father. Nevermind that the ride actually lasted all of one minute--they were on an elephant for goodness sake! It was nice to catch the Sailor smiling from ear to ear, as he bounced along on the elephant's back.  We all needed this break from the craziness in our lives (the move is only a week away. Did I mention it is the same week as the first week of school? Yeah.)

From there, we went off to grab some lunch, after a quick stop at the Reptile Museum. The girls got to hold a snake and pet it: "Ooh, you're a nice girl, aren't you snaky?" Yes, that really did come out of my children's mouths. The snake's handler was very impressed by their bravery, to which he was told, "We've wanted a snake for a long time, but we just don't have the room at home." Really? Fill me in on the exact moment I said that, girls? Lunch was lots of fun, as we ate at a table with some revelers dressed in their renaissance gear. They were so into their roles, that it was interesting to see how the girls interacted with them. I have to say that they did well for their first time hearing and interpreting Renaissance speech. Go girls!

That was a couple things taken off our personal lists, just a couple more to go! We caught a couple shows, bought some magic wands for the girls, and I got to look at shoes. I swear the only shoe that I have been able to tolerate during pregnancy, is made at a store in the Renn Fair. Medieval Moccasins makes the most comfortable shoes ever! I use them all year round and honestly, it is time for a new pair, as my maroon shoes are a little lighter in color. They still look great but come on! I can so use another pair. I looked at all the colors and couldn't make a decision, but this gives me a chance to go out to the Fair again. HAHA!

I didn't get to revel in my plan too long, as I looked down and saw that my three year old was not smiling and not happy. Great! This experience has been too much for her, despite the fair not being too overcrowded or noisy. I looked at the Sailor and saw that he had noticed too. We all stopped our walk so we could ask Banshee what was wrong. As she put it, very simply "We haven't seen Queen Katherine to take a picture with her yet." After a promise that we wouldn't leave without finding her, we kept walking through the grounds(which promise you a workout) to take in the sights. Finally, as we were nearing the entrance...our salvation! King Henry and Queen Katherine were standing right in front of us inviting the children to come take pictures. "Banshee!! Look!! There they are!", Pixy shouted. The girls ran to the wonderful actors and curtsied, to which I received kudos on teaching them courtly manners. Yeah, baby! I rock!! They took their picture and the day was saved. I want to say that the Sailor and I high-fived 80s style, but I am sure he is going to deny everything, so I will just say that we were happy that all had turned out well.

In the car, after a requisite visit to the Privies, we all shared our simple joy of the day; a new routine since Banshee attended Kennedy Krieger. Sailor said, "My simple joys were that I got to eat yummy food and spend lots of QT (quality time) with all of you." Pixy said, "My simple joy was getting an elephant ride with Banshee and sharing a frozen lemonade." Banshee said, " My simple joy was everything today. It was special." Finally, when it came my turn to share, I wasn't sure that I knew what my simple joy was. The whole day had been wonderful! The weather was perfect, the crowd was great, we got to check off our to-dos while at the fair...I honestly didn't know what it was. As we drove home, I kept mulling things over and looking for my simple joy of the day. I didn't find it until we were on our driveway. "Eureka! I know what my simple joy is!", I called out. "My simple joy is that all day today, we were all smiling and happy. No tears, no sadness, no tiredness....just pure and simple joy." The car was extremely quiet. I looked back and....everyone had fallen asleep. Go figure! That's ok though, I know what my simple joy for today was and it is just fine. But if they ask me tomorrow what it is, I am going to say getting hit on by that saucy knight, hands down! Yes! Mama wins this round!

Embracing fairy tales

"Why do you read those to your kids?", my friend asked.
"They're fairy tales. They all have a lesson to be learned." I said
"Yes, but you read them the original ones. Everyone dies in those. why cant you let them watch TV and be done with it?"she looked at the book in disgust.
"Well, yes, but reading these tales fosters their imagination and problem solving skills. I mean, how else would you know how to handle a big bad wolf, or a giant? Do YOU know when it's appropriate to call out Jack Frost's name?" The blank look she gave me told me everything I needed to know. She didn't. What a shame.

This was probably the zillionth time I'd had this same conversation with this same friend. She honestly believed that I was harming the girls by letting them learn about all kinds of mystical creatures and old folklore, because that's what fairy tales are. In her mind, they're old, have no lessons whatsoever, and therefore, no value at all. I disagree completely, which is great, because that alone fosters discussion...but, I digress.

Fairy tales are wonderful! They do teach lessons, no matter how embedded in the tale they are. They are meant to be frightening because the world is not always such a kind place and their value is astronomical! These tales were collected from elders a long time ago. We should treat them as treasures and not some stories meant solely for the entertainment of children. When did it become ok to dismiss these stories this way? How is it harmful to feed a child's imagination?

I love watching children's faces as they hear about Hansel and Gretel, about Little Red Riding Hood, about Snow White and Rose Red, about creatures that haunt the woods: pixies, fairies, goblins; you name it. It's akin to lighting a torch in a dark cave! They want to know what the lesson in each story is, how the problem was solved, how they could have done it better....it's a perfect way to engage them in conversation. Why not foster that? I mean, it's wonderful to teach children facts, give them the truths of daily life, but why take away all magic? I think my friend is missing that part of it all.

I get a little mad when I have conversations like this. Not because I have to defend my position, there just isn't one right answer when it comes to how people parent their children, but because people are losing their love of reading and the magic that comes with it. That's really what it boils down to. It's ok to watch a show about facts, the reality of life, but it is absolutely boring to pick up an old book and get lost in it. There is magic let loose in the world, when a book is opened. You're absorbed, transported, taken away to a different place, different worlds, and take part in an adventure that is unfolding right before your eyes. What is so harmful about that?

My friend just doesn't see that. It doesn't make sense to her because she has replaced books with electronics. She loves techie stuff, which is probably where the disdain for books and fairy tales comes from--it's just not "in" enough for her. That's fine for her but not for me. While I love the techie stuff too, I respect these tales from long ago. Someone thought they were valuable enough to put into a book, to preserve for future generations. This information, no matter in what form it was presented, was deemed valuable or essential to life. Surely, they still hold weight today, in this age. At least, they do at my house.

So, our friendship plods on, not as strong as before. My friend has since moved away, life gets busy. My consolation: when she does come to visit, she can continue to look at me blankly, or even shake her head at me as I teach all our children about when to call on Jack Frost, or how not to upset a house brownie. Deep down, I know the little girl in her is listening and thinking about walking to that dusty old bookshelf and letting a certain book's magic choose her to be its next great reader. There is magic everywhere, you just have to know how to find it, right?

The pond, the geese, the Juneau, and the beaver. Sigh!

Juneau is a wonderful dog. He is full of energy, gentle with the girls, and super quiet. He came into our little pack on Mother's Day, because his time was up at the shelter and they were going to put him to sleep. I am glad that he came home to us, as he had been treated very badly and needed lots of medicine to get his under-nourished frame back into top shape. It was serendipitous, right?

Turns out that while Juneau is amazing, he doesn't think things through, and is often getting into trouble because of it. Enter our walk to the park with Banshee. Banshee had done a great job at school the day before, and as a reward, we all decided to take her on a walk near the ponds to the playground. She decided it would be nice to bring Kai and Juneau along too. Since, the boys really needed their walk, we agreed with her--it was a beautiful day! We quickly leashed up the boys, packed our water bottles, and set off.

It was wonderful! Banshee got to walk Kai on his leash, as he is gentle about walking and looks out more for her than himself when walking. She was in heaven and proud of herself for doing something that only big kids do. Juneau, on the other hand, is a horrible walker! He wants to sniff everything and run ahead, turn around, skip..you name it! In spite of his usual leash nonsense, we got to see a blue heron, a beaver, various birds, and a couple of neighbors fishing. We were actually all giggling, as Juneau decided he needed to commune with nature by rolling around the grass upside-down. "Come on, Junebug!", we called, as we started to walk towards the observation deck to see what the beaver was up to.

Banshee and Kai got to the deck first and were watching a flock of geese on the pond. I got there next and was pointing out the beaver to Banshee, while the Sailor and Juneau walked up to the deck. No one is sure what happened next, because all we heard was a huge splash and Juneau's leash went taut. "Where is Juneau?!", I screamed out, after I saw that Kai was shepherding Banshee away from the edge of the deck. When he does that, it usually means danger. Something was terribly wrong. It was then that we saw exactly what happened...Juneau was in the pond.

Panic usually sets in very quick and you start to look for solutions to the problem, but when we all got a good look at what Juneau was attempting to do, it was actually hard not to be mad. He was chasing after the geese, and the beaver was chasing after him. This totally looked like something out of Grimm's fairy tales, or perhaps, like something out of America's Funniest Home Videos? Yeah. The situation got hairier, as the beaver totally went under water. Thanks a lot, Juneau. Someone was going to have to go in, and it sure wasn't going to be me. The Sailor looked at me and grimaced. He decided he would use the leash to guide poor Juneau out of the pond, hopefully, before the beaver decided he was a threat. Not that we were too worried about Juneau. He is a good hunter; the beaver might have gotten some good blows in, but Juneau would bring him home as dinner. I remember saying: " Not that that makes it any less scary, but we need to get him out now!". The leash lead Juneau up onto the bank, carefully, so as not to hurt his neck or snag onto some unsuspecting goose. What walked out of the water, tail wagging, was not the usual white beast we love...oh no! This was Swamp Thing! Juneau was now pond mud black/brown/gray goo colored. Every single neighbor that was out at the pond, not only saw the whole thing, but were now rolling on the ground in stitches. It was hard to not laugh...it was just odd. What an adventure, huh?!

Banshee and Kai were waiting for us to bring Juneau up to the path, and were both so grossed out, that they decided to keep walking a little bit away from us into the trees to explore. The Sailor and I had to examine Juneau on our own. Oh man! He stunk to high heaven, even if he was ok and looked perfectly happy. The weirdo wasn't even shocked or nervous. It looked like our trip to the playground was going to be cut short. We couldn't let that stuff stick on his fur!

I want to say that we made the walk back home in seconds, it was that fast! We immediately, gave Juneau a bath, and no amount of Key lime Aloe dog shampoo was going to help that stink. We needed to go in again! And again! And again! I think we went through half a bottle of the stuff. Meanwhile, Kai and Banshee looked on and judged us on our washing technique. I think they were disappointed they had to come home too. After the bath, Juneau tried to make up to them, with no success. He knew he was in trouble with his 'siblings'. The Sailor and I just looked on to see what he was going to next. Juneau approached them quietly and laid a toy at their feet, which was huge because he still doesn't know how to play well. Banshee walked up to Juneau and hugged him: "Naughty Juneau. You don't jump in water. That is soo soo bad." He was forgiven there, but Kai wasn't having any of it. He looked on at them as if he was above it all. "Come on, Kai. Give him a break! He isn't a thinker. Juneau will do better next time," the Sailor said to him. Reluctantly, Kai did forgive him and lightly sniffed him. He did not stay near him though..he could probably smell something nasty that the rest of couldn't smell. Oh boy!

Did Juneau learn his lesson? Nope. While he hasn't jumped off another observation deck, he has gotten stuck in a tree log in the back yard, chased down a deer, and attempted to make friends with a skunk. He keeps all of us on our toes, that is for sure! We love him dearly, but you can't help thinking that whoever said little children were tough, has never had a Juneau in their life. They'd probably change their mind...in a heartbeat. Better yet, in the time it takes to jump into a pond. Sigh!

The Simple Joy Club

For years, I have kept a thankful journal. Every day I would jot down some things that I was thankful for each day and sign off with the affirmation I learned from Miss Stacey in Anne of Green Gables: "Tomorrow is a brand-new day with no mistakes in it."

After my father died, a couple of things happened. One of which, and perhaps the most profound, is the fact that I lost my thankful journal. It is nowhere to be found. And I mean, nowhere. I have torn up this house, only to find dust bunnies. Well, not dust bunnies, more like tufts of fur that the wolves have left during their shedding times. You get the idea. I felt so completely lost without my  journal, because it had somehow turned into a crutch; a getaway of sorts. I could always pull out some things from my day that I was thankful for. I was heartbroken.

Right about that time though, The Simple Joy Club came into existence. Yes, there is a slight reference to The Joy Luck Club with that title, even if the stories aren't the same--I digress. What is the club? Well, all the members are the mothers of Banshee's classmates and the "simple joys" is something we are asked to start our weekly pow-wows with at Banshee's school. It was a blessing in disguise. This was my way of regaining my lost thankful journal. 

The "simple joys" are something that brought us joy, it can be related to our children or just to ourselves. Anything goes, but the idea is to begin our weekly meetings on a positive note and know that we can find joy in the simplest things. This is something I try to do everyday, otherwise I would end up in grumpy-old-Puerto Rican-woman hell. (I have seen it, it exists.) 'I so got this!', I thought. Ha! I can write about one thing that brought me joy. Easy! Boy, was I in for it.

During that week's meeting, we were handed our first sheet with a spot on top for our simple joy. I think I stared at the blank spot for a very long time. My emotional baggage wanted me to say: You have nothing to be joyful about, but deeeeeeeep down I knew that I could find something to be happy about, despite the circumstances. The meeting went on as planned, we all got to share stories about our children, gave each other encouragement, and offered hints about things we could do to make our homework assignments easier. It was great, but in the back of my mind, I kept on thinking about the simple joy spot on the paper that I would have to fill. It became a big monster for me, because I honestly did not feel like writing anything down. I didn't have time for feelings, I had things to do, dammit! How can I think of a simple joy, when everything going on in my life was anything but joyous?! I will confess, that this simple task, was becoming a huge chore.

As the week progressed, the simple joy remained hidden from me. I kept looking for it and didn't seem to find it. I found many simple joys in my children, don't get me wrong, but I thought that maybe one time, I could claim a simple joy for myself and see where it took me. I brainstormed like crazy and found myself thinking of the women that made up The Simple Joy Club: each with their own story, their own daily battles, and their own simple joys. Suddenly, I knew what my simple joy was. I had found a new pack. That is what we are. Not a traditional pack with an alpha, but a pack nonetheless. We are there to help each other when we stumble, to cheer each others successes, to help find those damn simple joys when life has handed you a raw deal. THAT was my simple joy, but I didn't fill the spot on the sheet with that. Another less powerful simple joy happened that needed to be recognized immediately. If you are a writer, you will understand that need to get this one thing down on paper or it will be forever lost. If you aren't a writer, just think of writers as people with really bad OCD, where tasks need to get done immediately or you go crazy. It seems, the universe has a funny way of making things happen when they are supposed to and not when we want them to. My simple joy would have to wait for another time.

Finally, today, the chance to share this simple joy just seemed to materialize. I wrote it in the spot on the sheet prior to the meeting and I shared it. Granted, I was late to the meeting, I didn't feel up to being there emotionally, I felt drained and I want to say that I didn't speak very much during the first half of the meeting...but I did share it. My simple joy was having a support group of people I could talk to, knew what I was going through,  and look to for help. A pack. It felt good to acknowledge everyone in the room that way. That simple joy helped me to regain what I had lost in my thankful journal: the feeling of wonder, excitement, happiness at little nothings that happen throughout the day. Little nothings that without meaning to, pack a big punch and make you thankful for it all.  It felt empowering.

Yup, you know where this is going. This new world opened up before me and it led me to thinking, which led me to asking questions, which led me to this little nugget: why don't we share a simple joy at the dinner table every night to help us out of this funk? We tried it, felt a bit foreign at first, but we kept at it. Soon, we were sharing laughter and smiles at all the dinner conversation that these "simple joys" brought us at table. I still marvel at how something so "simple" as sharing one small thing that made you happy throughout the day, can have such an impact on how you feel.

I am still on the hunt for my thankful journal. It has to be here somewhere, but until I find it and can write about ten things that I was thankful for that day, I can keep working on my "simple joys" with the Simple Joy Club. It gets the same job done and helps me ease right back into acknowledging that only you are in control of how you view the world, simple joys and all. It is up to you how you want to harness it, digest it, and deliver it back out there to the world.

Simple joys...who'da thunk it? 

Exorcising demons: A letter to my old man on his death

To my old man, wherever you are(definitely Heaven, but where exactly, I am not sure):

Maybe I thought you were invincible and I never expected you to die so soon. You were 64, the same age your own mother was when she passed, so I probably shouldn't have been surprised. After all,  it is said our personal stories and their endings are written way before we exist. Perhaps this is why I hated the Ides of March so much in my younger days. Maybe I knew that March 6th, the day when Titi Emma died, would pop up again in my lifetime. Who knows? The certainty I have now is this: I hate the month of March with a vengeance. Especially my birthday, because it is a countdown to bad things, no matter what way you paint it.

I need to exorcise all these feelings, thoughts, whatever out of me so that once I put them out there into the great void, my load might feel a little lighter.

Dad, I don't want you to think that I am not sad, or that I don't miss you at all. I miss you terribly. Our nightly phone conversations, our weekend get-togethers, our chats about books, laughing at the girls....I miss it all. I think of how people thought we were all crazy working in the same school together, but to me, it was Heaven. I was able to share every single part of my life with both my parents at every single moment of the day. We were a unit in every sense of the word and we didn't know how not to be that way. It is hard to lose that. Often, I find myself thinking 'Oh, I can't wait to tell D that', and then I get mad at myself because you aren't here. It is horrible, this empty feeling that I just can't get away from. You were my best friend; a part of me that I can't seem to function well without. I need you to know that I will mourn once all the mountains of paperwork are taken care of, the boxes are put away, and the dust settles. There is just too much to do to waste it completely on crying and I can't fall apart on the people that are counting the most on me. You taught me that.

The prime example of those that count on me: your two granddaughters. They miss you terribly. Especially the little one, who has surprised us by talking about you, in spite of all her social limitations. Can you believe it? I am sure that you can. You see, Banshee misses her best friend too. Just as you were a huge force in all of our lives, you were just as important to her and one constant that she looked for to make her feel right about the world. You always understood her and the love you had for her broke through even the barriers of her condition. She was perfect to you in every way and I believe that is the reason why she asks about you or she looks up at a cloud to say wisely: 'Papa is watching up there'. On the other hand, Pixy misses you in a different way. She gets sad that she can't be praised by you, or that you won't teach her to read, or that you aren't here to celebrate the silliest things (Pixy still mentions the fact that you were all supposed to have an un-birthday party for the dolls). She laughs sadly at the fact that she named you after the character in the Disney movie and about the time she locked you in the bathroom downstairs. Fun memories that she will have with her always. It is as she says: "That's great but Papa isn't here." Don't you just hate how the smartest things come out of the mouths of babes?

All of it is hard. I won't lie to you. To know that you won't be here in person for all the rest of the milestones we have yet to cover, all the battles we have yet to fight, all of the tears, all of the celebrations...death is never convenient, is it? Your death is a horrifying and humbling surprise, that makes a person appreciate just how limited our time here on Earth really is. "We know when we get here but we sure don't know when we get to go". Ain't that the truth!

I need you to know that in spite of all my pain, I remain your creature above all things. I still treat the world as a never-ending classroom(can't let that teachable moment slip us by, can we?), books as the rarest jewels in the world, and am able to pull out of me strength and confidence when God knows I shouldn't have any. I can't help but smile at that. You taught me that hope is always the last thing to go, when in doubt wear red, the sun will always come up the next day(no matter what), dreaming is just as important as the steps it takes to turn them into reality, that hard work is never something to be afraid of and a blessing in disguise, always take a book with you and you won't ever be alone,  and that love is a gift that should be given freely to those around you, no matter what. As you used to say: "Otherwise what is the damn point?" I will forever think of that day when someone compared me to you and I matter-of-factly answered, echoing another great lady: "I am my father's daughter." I will have that always.

I want you to understand that part of me went in the casket with you on your burial day. I may not show my grief as other people do, but I wear it daily. I see it in the sad eyes of my mother, in the long conversations with my sister, in the hunched shoulders of my husband, and in the smiles of my children. They are a constant reminder that I have this cloak of grief about me that I will wear forever but won't ever surrender to. A reminder that I won't be able to fall apart. There isn't time for that. Life might get better, with time, but the grief won't cease to exist.  No one recovers from the death of their best friend, no matter what their demeanor tells you, or what their mouths are uttering. I won't succumb to being the hysterical kind of female that you hated. It isn't in me. You saw to that.

I want you to know that you played all the roles a man should play very well. I am not saying you weren't human, you had your faults, but perhaps the main reason why your family mourns you with all their beings(and in different ways), is that you were an excellent father, an excellent husband, a grandfather without equal, and a great human being. You left us all a legacy of love, knowledge, and strength that will live on in us until our last days here. Don't doubt it. Ever.

The only balm to my pain, to be honest, is that I have this crazy hope that one day while out and about, I will look up and somewhere in the crowd, I will see a familiar face. Or maybe just a familiar set of eyes. SOMEthing will make me take notice. I will stop and I will probably stare, because that is what I do. Then, a slow smile will start to blossom because somehow, I will know that I am looking at you.

I miss you old man and there ain't no more to say.

-Me

Happy birthday from the Mile High City

This weekend, today in fact, is my birthday. It is not a happy day for me at all. It is a day that comes with a lot of emotional baggage; a cousin who passed away at a young age shares this day with me, as well as the inevitable countdown to the death of my Aunt Emma (March 6th). So, needless to say, my birthday was not celebrated with too much pomp and circumstance. Oh, we had the parties and the family came over to have fun, but there was always that undercurrent of gloom. We knew what was coming around the corner, as it were. It wouldn't be until much later that I would figure out that I shared this day with Dr. Seuss and Jon Bon Jovi. THAT made it a bit more tolerable! Because of this stigma though, or in spite of it, the Sailor decided to gift me a trip to Denver, where the Navy Band is on tour. He was determined to make it a fun day, no matter what. Laissez les bon temps rouler, cher!!

As a birthday surprise, it is awesome. I got to fly on my own to Denver, a place where I'd never been. I am all for adventure at any time of the day, so it was not a surprise for it to begin at BWI Airport. In the TSA line, no less. Yup, there I was in the line, waiting to have my ticket and ID checked, minding my own business. The TSA agent was sitting on his stool and as I hand him my paperwork, he says: "You're very beautiful." Vanessa (my alter ego, who is always on the prowl for mischief), decided to show up right then, look him intensely in the eye, move a little forward to encroach on his space and answered: "Thank you." He was dumbstruck. I am not sure what did it. Maybe he has never experienced anyone staring him down or actually answering him, but he whispered: "WOW." I walked through the line, not giving him a look back, even though he was attempting to regain his composure. I believe the other agents were laughing at him. It was hilarious and classic behavior for my alter ego. Oh, Vanessa!, I thought. My birthday is going to rock.

Vanessa was born in my youth, due to some rogue pixie dust, some empanadillas(I AM Puerto Rican),  and an overactive imagination. She didn't receive her name until I was in my twenties, and it happened outside a club in DC. Go figure, right? A random guy in the club had been trying to get my attention and as we left the club, he saw his opportunity to approach. He invited me to an after-party at a different club and asked for my name. I told him the name was Vanessa, and immediately gave him the phone number for the Reject Hotline, all while laughing in his face. Vanessa, as an alter ego, is brutal. She loves strong women, hates lecherous men, and has a degree in mischief. She is the part of me that comes out when it is time to let loose and have fun. Naturally, she would make her presence known on my birthday weekend. At the airport. Sigh.

The flight itself to Denver was great. The lady in the seat next to me fell asleep and used my boob as a pillow. She was comfortable, so I let her stay there. Nice of me, huh? I was half asleep myself, but the funny thing was that her husband was sitting next to her, so I am sure he had all kinds of odd visions going through his head. I couldn't help but giggle once I figured out what was going on. WIN! Soon enough, we landed in Denver and the airport is huge. While I was waiting for my Navy Band chauffeurs to pick me up( I travel in style, baby! Ha!), I decided to people-watch.

The experience was amazing to say the least. I saw people meeting their family there, people arguing about who made who late in getting to the airport, babies running away from their parents(Run free!! There's freedom, outside!), and a rogue cowboy or two walking through on their way to their destination. Lots of interesting fashion, even more interesting shoes, and a nice mix of color. Enter my next adventure in the form of a young nice guy, who was waiting for his friends to make their way to the airport. He struck up a conversation with me and for the next ten minutes or so, we talked about my spawn and the Sailor. He also talked about his trip there and what he was doing. I remembered he did mention he was busy, so this was a nice treat for him. It was all very fun. Out of nowhere, a group of tween girls looked in our direction and started to squeal. I had been so immersed in our conversation, that I got startled and grabbed his arm. He mentioned that his sort of thing happens a lot, which I thought was kind of random. (Aside: I might have forgot to mention that I wasn't feeling well, and my brain is not functioning on all turbines at the moment, remember that as you read the next sentences.) The girls proceeded to ask him for a picture, to which he obliged. I thought that was nice of him too, and I watched the curious exchange--remember, I thought he was just a regular guy. It turns out, per one of the squealing tweens, he was one of stars of the movie Twilight. D'oh! I couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. This was total Lisa-candy: make conversations with strangers and have them turn out to be famous. Sheesh! My sister is notorious for getting mad at me when this happens. She always shakes her head at me and says, "Are you serious?! Why does this keep happening?! You need to start taking pictures or SOMEthing. God!". I can't help but laugh because I think the same thing after the fact too. Sorry, Leelee.

Luckily, shortly after that the Sailor and another sailor buddy of ours arrived. It was very nice to see them both after their being away for tour. It had been a long tour for everyone, I am sure. We drove around the airport, saw the teepee-shaped roof, and the blue pony with the red eyes outside the airport--it was a blast! I remarked on the amount of wild rabbits jumping about the grounds of the airport and I think the Sailor mentioned he had counted quite a few on their ride over. Enter our next adventure, it now being 1am and officially my birthday. Yup, it got better!

We ended up having to take a cab back to our hotel, because our ride got a flat tire, and $75 later(or thereabouts), and quite a few local flicking off our cab, we made it to our hotel. I couldn't help but think that this was the way Denver was welcoming me: drunk people having such a great time, that they didn't realize the cab already had a fare, and needed to flick me off. HAHAHA! Vanessa did flick them back off! You get back what you put out there, right?! Right?! The hotel, though, is a nice joint! Kind of dead in the wee hours of the morning, but it was very warm and welcoming. We made it upstairs to our room and I found some cupcakes and a card that the staff of the hotel had left for me. It was perfect timing and a lovely surprise, as I was very hungry from the trip, and needed a little snack before bed. Talk about a great way to end the night!

Cue the sun; my nemesis. After a couple hours of sleep, he kinda gets on my nerves but I was determined to have a good time. After finding some awesome birthday wishes on Facebook, today's adventure led me to an awesome bookstore on 16th Street. Predictable of me, yes, but where do you think a bibliophile goes for their birthday? I guarantee you, it ain't gonna be the nearest bar. That's for nighttime!(giggle) I was able to browse the stacks, sit in the children's section there (a total happy place with lots of Dr. Seuss books today), and take a picture of a book with my mother-in-law's name on it so I could text back to her later. We walked around the mall area there and took in some local color. It was the perfect way to spend the day. I also got hit on again in the street, to which the Sailor and I laughed, because I haven't done anything different to myself. The Sailor seems to think that it is my eyes that are causing a stir. I recently colored my hair very dark again and naturally the gray color pops out. Personally, I just think that my boobs looked great in the top I was wearing, but I digress.

As far as birthdays go, it has been amazing. Full of fun tales to share with my spawn when I see them tomorrow (squeeee!). Most important though, I got to leave home and explore a brand-new place. I got to let Vanessa come out and just be myself, not have to worry about anyone else and spoil myself a bit(Buying books. Watch out! Big spender on the loose!). All that aside, I am grateful for my 32 years on Earth, and glad that I get to experience so many fun things daily, while totally making an ass of myself half the time. Why the universe keeps choosing me to experience so many interesting things, I will never know. I am going to enjoy it all to the fullest while I can, with my ragtag band of misfits, of course! I am hopeful that the spawn is not driving my mother and my sister insane. For the record, they were both laughing at the girls when I called, who apparently had decided to dance around and be silly.

As for my tonight: The night isn't over yet! My birthday is still underway. Who knows what new adventures are awaiting me tonight? Is it wrong that I'm hoping it involves a romp at a vampire bar,  a burlesque show, followed by some dancing at an LGBT dance club? Definitely not, I say! It's all about fun, plus the Sailor is with me. He is a good sidekick for everything! Happy birthday to you, says the Mile High City. I am wondering now what I will answer back later tonight. (Insert naughty laugh here).