Where has the time gone?

Things I didn't realize were happening, but which have happened:

1. Molly Ringwald and Kirk Cameron grew up. Don't ask me why I know this, but ABC Family has a new show coming out about a pregnant teenager (hello, Juno?!) and the mom is Molly Freaking Ringwald. I'm so not kidding. Also, Kirk Cameron has a new book about being the Christian father of 6 kids. (Which is significant, because if he were any other religion and had 6 kids, it wouldn't be? I don't get it.)

2. Someone decided it would be a good idea to recycle Beverly Hills, 90210. Like you can mess with perfection. For those of us that watched and remember, Tori Spelling is coming back as Donna, Jennie Garth as Kelly, and Ian Ziering as Steve. They're going to be the older, grown-up versions of their former characters, with Lori Loughlin and Rob Estes as the parents of the Mid-Western family that moves to BH. Of course, we all remember Lori from "Full House" and I remember Rob from "Silk Stalkings" - which still I wish I had on DVD. Anyway, I love a good flashback and this provided one for me.

3. Ryan Maxey went out and made something of himself. Please do not assume that I am surprised; I am not. I'm merely pointing out the fact that our class clown, our no-good trouble-maker friend, the hilarious guy who, when he was around, had our parents' eagle eyes on him, now lives in San Francisco and runs a poncy restaurant where he is also the sommelier. At EW's wedding, he was uber-friendly and remembered random things about me, like when I moved to Hendersonville and that I went to Sweet Briar because my grandmother went there. Boy I wish I'd kept in touch with him...

4. All the weeks until the cruise passed. One day, we had six weeks left. And then suddenly, we leave tomorrow. I'm not sure I'm ready, though luckily the birth certificate was located. I was born at 2:56 pm; my mom was 26 and my dad 38 years old at the time. Just in case you wanted to know.

5. I got old. My passport picture is from my senior year in college, and now I have wrinkles. I never thought I had wrinkles. I don't notice them in the mirror really, nor do I worry about them particularly. But I compared the passport picture with another picture of me, and oh my god. I got old.

More later...

Name Schmame

Leave it to me to wait until the last minute for important things, such as, oh, a passport. Yesterday afternoon I was going down my list of things I needed to get and do to be ready for our trip on Thursday. Laundry - check. Suitcase - check. Passport - oh crap. It seems that the last time I used my passport was on my honeymoon, and at that point in my life, I was still going by "Davis" as opposed to Bakdavi. (Holla, Higsley!) Lo and behold, I opened up my passport yesterday and there, in blazing black type: Davis, Margaret Elizabeth. Shite. That's not me! I'm Baker, Elizabeth Davis. Crap crap crap.

Cross your fingers with me, right now, that my birth certificate is sitting in my parents' lockbox down at First Citizens and can be retrieved after Memorial Day. Be ye not so stupid - change your names everywhere when you get hitched. You'll regret it if you don't. In the wise words of my mother, "Oh honey, just take your birth certificate, your passport, your driver's license and your marriage certificate - surely they'll just realize that you got married but that you are who you say you are." Uh huh.

So Friday night was a blast. Higsley talked me into going out (as in, out out) with her to meet Beth and Andy at White Collar Crime. My first trip to White Collar Crime was a little, well, trippy. Beth had a "Death to Beth's 20's" birthday party in February, and everyone followed directions to the letter - I thought I'd landed either in purgatory or some Goth version of a scary 30th birthday party. Turns out, as Higsley noted, that it's not so much that White Collar Crime is Goth, just that it happened to be that way for Beth's birthday. White Collar Crime is a mish-mash of people, as was evidenced by the half-naked teenagers standing at the bar. Overheard during a Phil Collins/Nine Inch Nails remix: "Ugh, what is this crap? My mom listens to this shit. I'm so over it."

Anyhoo, I feel a little guilty for giving Higs a hard time - she's in looooove with a nice boy named Mark, and she is in that fortunate honeymoon stage where the sound of his voice makes her heart race more than a little. They're all long-distancey and such, so her phone rang off the hook Friday night and maybe Beth and I weren't the most understanding friends ever. (Maybe I called her when I knew she was on the phone to tell her that I was feeling a tad neglected - but it was totally the Stoli blueberry talking.)

Saturday morning I woke up at my MIL's and we ate smoked salmon on rye and watched "Juno." Best. Movie. Ever. We had a cookout at BB's brother's house that night, and I must say that it wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be. The food was good, the kids were...not around me much...and we didn't stay late. Gotta love that.

Now if only I could will the bank to open so I can find my damn birth certificate...

Hello, old friend

Dear Shonda Rimes,

I am writing to thank you eversomuch for taking your head out of your ass and finally writing an episode of your show that's worth waiting for. I heard it was coming. I read and read all about how Shonda and her staff were coming up with the greatest finale to end a rocky season, and I have to hand it to you - you did it right tonight.

Before Grey's Anatomy became the in-thing, the popular show, the watercooler fodder it's become, I was a fan. I was a fan of the characters you created and of the story you told. It's a story that needs telling, and whether it occurs in a hospital, on a battlefield or in my kitchen, it's an important one. You have created characters that remind us a little bit of ourselves, who we want to be, and who we wish we weren't.

The way that your show is written is important to me, not just because I have a deep appreciation for its wit, but because you push boundaries. You draw lines in the sand and then march right past them. Writers everywhere, in entertainment and beyond, would do well to learn a lesson from you, for you used your time wisely during the writers' strike- you recognized where your story had gone astray, and you found ways to bring it back to the life it deserves.

Most everyone I know rolls their eyes at me when they discover how seriously I take the shows I enjoy. But not everyone understands that the reason I love the shows I do is not because I'm a TV addict with no life (shut up, family); the reason I love them is because they articulate things in our lives that we find mundane, but that need that little extra exploration.

So thanks, Shonda. Thanks for a great finale. Thanks for finally realizing that your viewers aren't stupid, just a little impatient for the quality of writing we remember from long ago. Thanks for teaching those of us that aspire to write how to come full circle and hold yourself accountable.

Good luck with the fall - you'll need it. This is a tough act to follow.

Be careful what you wish for...

Oh, thank heaven. I'm home, sitting in my cozy little clean office chair, in my mammoth (compared to the Shack) house, which is clean and doesn't smell and I'm pretty sure also doesn't have...things...growing in the corners.

As vacations go, this one was right up there with High Hampton. BB and I had a fabulous time being together (which we never get to do), the food was good, and I read books like it was my job. But friends, let me just say that all wishes do not come true. A free vacation is a free vacation, and we get that, and while we'd like to consider ourselves low maintenance, the truth of the matter is that we actually require a few comforts that we've taken for granted thus far. That's all I'm gonna say about that. But just know that the sign on the front of the "cottage" that reads "Surf Shack" is really just cheap advertising for minimalist quarters designed to please college kids that want to smoke up at night, hit the waves during the day, and for whom showers are optional.

So last night after dinner, I found myself leaning up against the wooden rail of the pier leading down the beach. I was watching the sky turn a hundred different colors, from red to pink, then from blue to gray, and just as the horizon turned that murky shade that makes it hard to discern where ocean ends and sky begins, I felt a warm hand close over mine. Then softly, in my ear: "I love you." Aww, I thought, it's our last night here and Brian's being sweet because he knows I'm missing the old beach house and how we used to drink wine in the gazebo there at this time of night. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "You're worried that you're gonna fall off the ship next week, aren't you?"

Huh?

His smug little crocodile smile was ruining my sunset moment. "When you get to Miami on Thursday, you're gonna find a little gift in your suitcase from me. I'm packing The Poseidon Adventure and Airport 77 in there just for you!"

Oh, the meanness. He was right, though. I am just a teensy bit worried that I might fall off the ship, like that chick from New Jersey, and maybe I'm a tad anxious that my plane will go down. But do I really need to be reminded? I don't think so.

I have to say though, despite the, uh, basic living arrangements, we really did do some fun stuff. Monday we rode to Oregon Inlet, drove on the beach and briefly sat by the water until the wind forced us to leave. I got some pretty shells to add to my vase at work. We napped a lot, read lots of books and ate out a few times. Tuesday it rained off and on, so we rode to Duck and Corolla, and for the first time in the 7 years I've been going to Nags Head, I saw wild horses. There was a beautiful family of five, walking down the shoreline, where the water meets the sand. The daddy horse was black and walked at the front, a lot faster than the rest. The mama horse stayed at the back and the two juniors walked in between, keep a close eye on their sibling - a new foal! I only know he's new because his legs were all wobbly and his mother kept nudging him along with her nose. I got pictures on my phone, but they're fuzzy. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen - we were in the Pathfinder, not 5 feet away from pure, wild Spanish mustangs. Amazing.

We sat on the beach for a while yesterday morning, but the evil biting flies that come in with the wind from the southwest had at us, so we left after a few hours. We timed it just right though - just before the flies rolled in, we saw porpoises cross in front of us - the water was so calm it looked like they were slicing through glass.

Now we're home - classes have started and I'm helping BB figure out Blackboard. Laundry must be done, thank-you notes written and then sometime tonight, I'm going to take a hot shower in my clean, spacious (ha!) bathroom and crawl into my fresh, clean fabulous sheets.

Ah. That's a vacation.

The Surf Shack

Hello, kids. I'm writing to you now from the aptly-named "Surf Shack," the place my MIL rented (sight unseen) for us at Nags Head. I have plenty to tell you about, but Brian's got an eagle eye on my laptop's battery light, as I forgot to bring the charger and he's all panicked that it will power down right as he posts to his Finance 591 discussion board. (Bo-ring.)

Quick preview of what's to come:

We've been locked out. With groceries. The wind is so strong I feel as though I've had a facelift. And I can't wait to fill you in on all the juicy details between the locked-out episode and the new foal I saw on the beach at Corolla this morning.

Stay tuned!

xoxo,
Nags Head Girl

Gator Boxes

10 things I'm looking forward to in the next 10 days:

1. The beach with Anne. The beach with Brian. The beach in general.

2. Elizabeth's wedding. Kind of like mine, except in the Episcopal church and with twice as many bridesmaids. And this time, I get to enjoy it.

3. Using my Tory Burch red croc clutch. It's soft and supple and lovely and gorgeous and I'm hoping that many, many people will be jealous.

4. Sleeping. I've forgotten what it's like and I miss it terribly.

5. Reading. I've forgotten what it's like and I miss it terribly.

6. Listening to my iPod for longer than 30 seconds. It was comparable to brain surgery, but I replaced the battery in my mini and now it works. Hallelujah.

7. Summer school. I'm taking Electronic Writing & Publishing during the 1st session and I so can't wait. I'm hoping they'll teach me how to hack into The Herald's website so I can make up funny stories about people I know and post them there.

8. The next installment of "Ghost Man on Third." My brother plays in a kickball league (yup, I said kickball!) on a team called "Alligator Mailbox." It's what he would've named a band if he had one, but he doesn't. GMOT is the newsletter he writes to recap the happenings of his league. With names like Ballasgna, Alligator Mailbox and 2 Legit 2 Kick, these teams could be playing Yahtzee and I'd still read about it. Go Gator Boxes!

9. My haircut. I heard through the grapevine that my hair girl is pregnant. I've gotta get the scoop firsthand.

10. Celebrating our anniversary. It's today. Four years. Seems like 40 sometimes, but they've all been good ones!

I love it when I'm smart

So remember last week when I was talking about Heather Armstrong, and how awesome I think she is, and how cool her blog is, and how everyone else should worship and adore her, too? Well finally, ABC News listened to me. (Like they should've been doing all along, hello?!) Anyway, in case you haven't gotten the picture yet, I looooove Heather Armstrong and wish to be her one day.

Anyhoo, what's up? I'm perky this morning, mainly because I slept crazy good under the coziness of my down-alternative satin-edged blanket, which is unfortunately too large to take with me on the cruise. I have, however, found a lovely alternative! Lug makes this fabulous travel pillow/blanket set called the "Nap Sac." How cute is that? I got it in aqua and I'm in love with it. So much so that I brought it to the office yesterday to show it off. (No, I do not nap in my office, though that's not a bad idea.)

In other news, have I mentioned how annoyed I am with lucky people? Let me give you a for-instance. Take my brother. He's 26, single-but-dating, lives in a ratty nasty frat-type house with two other boys and a kegerator, has no job and showers only when necessary. Since the day he was born, he's waltzed through life not really giving a shit about much of anything. Yet...things just fall into place. Don't you hate people like that? So fine, it did take him 5 years to graduate from college, and yes, he's had a string of bizarro stalker girlfriends (current one excluded, of course), but mostly, he just does what he wants and magically things work out for him.

Last summer, he decided to leave his good job with regular pay to...do nothing. He worked on the farm project for a while, but since that's over, he's been sleeping late, playing on the Internet and organizing his kickball league (I kid you not). He drinks wine til the wee hours, sleeps until he feels like getting up, and has discovered hydroponic gardening. The current joke is that he has some mysterious "second income," but my mother says I need to stop talking about that, or else people will begin to think that he's growing something else in his hydroponic garden (is the idea really that farfetched, Mom?). Anyway, yesterday he goes in to talk to his former bosses, who are desperate for him to return to the fold, and he gives them his "demands:" he doesn't want to commute, he doesn't want to have to pay for gas or a phone, he wants them to open a Raleigh office basically for him, and he wants x amount of money.

Surprise! They're calling him back today with an offer. Are you kidding me?! Let me tell my employer, the US Dept. of Education, that I have "demands." That's like, code or something, for a hostage-taker. I'd bet my life savings that when his former bosses call him today, Drew will get exactly what he wants, when he wants it. It's just that way.

And finally, I forgot what classes I signed up for this summer, and so yesterday I tried to register for the second section of something I'm already taking. Burn out, maybe? Anyway, it turns out that I'm taking electronic writing and publishing! Yay! One of my projects is to design and publish a website (hello, new blog site!) as well as to learn HTML. Wish me luck...

4 days til the beach...

15 days til the cruise!

I'm Not Ready to be Awake

My eyelids are so heavy right now I can hardly stand it. Today is Day #3 of the Four-Day Summer Workweek bonanza, and I'm starting to become a zombie. It's 10:00 am, I've been here almost four hours already and the summer is looming large and long ahead of me. At least class starts for me next weekend, and I'll have something to keep me busy until the end of July.

If you're wondering how it went with Bill Clinton on Monday, check out the link and you'll see his front porch stump at the Raglands'. (The back of my head is in there at the beginning, 10 points if you find it.) Unfortunately I missed Bill himself, thanks to the fact that he was over an hour late and it was about 1,000 degrees out there on the pavement under the sun. I thought I might be a little in danger of losing my job when I'd been gone 2 1/2 hours for lunch, so we left early. But I did get to see the Secret Service guys and all of Hillary's little college interns. The best comment I heard about all the hullabaloo came from my dad, who said, "I'd love to go out there and shake Clinton's hand. Then I can tell him that I didn't have sex with that woman, either." Classic!

In other news, at least two of our students that were planning to graduate Tuesday won't. My favorite part is that they're all shocked... "What?! I'm not walking?! I failed?! But I thought I could pass even if I didn't turn in that paper/ever show up to class/do anything my instructor told me to do." Probably I should feel bad for them, but I don't. Probably I'll feel bad for me when they show up next semester all whiny because they don't want to retake the classes they failed. Blah blah blah...can you tell it's summer?

There are only 21 days left until the cruise!!!! We got our documents on Monday, which tells us in detail what excursions they offer (there are about 50 of them, and they all cost about $100 for like 10 minutes of stuff). The book also tells us, in great detail, exactly what they'll do to us if they find we've smuggled alcohol on board. Luckily for me, Andrea is in charge of that. Wouldn't it be something if they booted her off in Nassau? Extra vacation days, anyone?

And finally, I had to go to the optometrist yesterday afternoon so that he could dilate my eyes and make sure my retinas are all happy and pretty (which they are). Afterwards, I had to ride home with my eyes shut behind sunglasses, because the sun hurt so doggone bad I wanted to cry. Today is BB's birthday, so I attempted to make his birthday cake and the black bean salsa I need for our graduation party while my eyes were still a little fuzzy. Baaaad idea. After the can of Rotel went into the cake batter, I decided to call it quits on the cooking. Here's hoping that nobody bites into their Mississippi Mud Cake tonight and chomps on a surprise jalapeno! On the other hand, that black bean salsa won't be near as hot as it should've been...it'll be a little sweet with a faint hint of fudge brownie. Rock on.

More blogging later...I have to pretend to do some work now.

One more thing

Every week or month or so, I find someone that I really wish I could be. Like when I was a kid, I wanted to be my camp counselor, Kim. Then after that, I wanted to be my other camp counselor, blank. (I can see her face clear as a bell, but her name...I have no idea.) Later on in life, I wanted to be one of those people who knew a bunch of famous people.

Now, I want to be Heather Armstrong and Sloane Crosley all rolled up into one. Check out the list on the right of my favorite blogs this week, and see what I'm talking about. Perhaps you don't think they're funny. Perhaps you think I'm weird. (Then go read somewhere else.) But I'm telling you, these girls are genius. And my ultimate goal, other than becoming one of those women on tv that elicit a "Daaamn!" from Brian Baker, is to write and be funny and not care what people think and attract a following like these girls have.

In my little, itty bitty world, these women are my heroes. Aside from you, Mom. And speaking of moms, Lucy and Charlie should absolutely go out and buy me "I Was Told There'd Be Cake" for Mother's Day. Not because I deserve it or because I'm a good cat mommy, but because I want it desperately and need it for my vacays.

Oh, and also, check out Jonathan Martin's blog on Politico.com. He's a smarty too, and not because I knew him in college and because he broke up with my former BFF (this is going to come back and bite me in the ass, but great move, Martin!), but because he just is really smart.

Happy May Day to meeeee!

It's here, it's here! Finally, May has arrived. May of the birthdays, May of the anniversaries, of Mother's Day, and May of the VACATIONS! That's right peeps, the Baker Beach Extravaganza commences on May 18, three days post-anniversary, 9 days post-BB's birthday, and 11 days pre-cruise. Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait.

So I've been MIA for the last week or so, mainly because a lot's been going on and I just haven't had the energy to blog about it. But here are some highlights, followed by some lowlights for kicks.

1. I had my Silpada jewelry party. It was fun, people bought stuff, I got free jewelry. What's not to love?

2. Dad's birthday featured the best food ever. And Brian showed up in time for jokes and stories. Always the best part of a Davis family birthday dinner.

3. The slideshow and ode to Toney Bond were not only hits, they've been the talk of the school this week. Our creativity abounds and we're starting to get reputations for being witty and fabulous. As if we didn't have those before. Puh-leeze.

4. Tonight is my last night class. Ever. Or at least for now. I can go home every night after work and rest assured that no one will call me to ask me where the answer key is to the 6-way paragraphs, or why one of my students didn't show up. Thank god for small things.

UPDATE:

I never posted this blog, because I got busy doing other stuff and, well, I forgot. But I do have breaking news (and no, for the 35th time, I am not pregnant!!!):

Former President Bill Clinton will be in Smithfield tomorrow! I kid you not. He's going to be at the home of some friends of my parents (ok, "friends" is an exaggeration, but they do know them) at 1:30 Monday afternoon and hello?! I'm so going to be there.

To clarify: I do not like Bill Clinton. I do not like Hillary Clinton. I particularly don't like Chelsea Clinton (there's no need to be rude to strangers). I think anyone whose friends suddenly "disappear" after pissing them off is entirely suspect and completely sleazy (and probably has Mob ties). However, this is Bill Clinton. How often does star power like that, sleazy or not, come to Smithfield? Never, I tell you.

So I'm going. 10-hour days start tomorrow and since I only get 30 minutes for lunch, I'll probably have to take time off to go, but it's so worth it to me. If only I could find a date...all my Democratic friends that might actually enjoy it live far away. The rest of the people I know are Republicans and would rather watch paint dry than go.

I'm going to Rite Aid right now to buy a disposable camera and I'll report back tomorrow afternoon. I have high hopes that not everyone in Johnston County was invited, and therefore I'll have a good view of Slick Willy. But we'll see.

Stay tuned... the NC primary is Tuesday and a lot can happen between now and then!