When I called Route 66 to ask if I could come spend New Year’s Eve with her I was picturing the two of us in our pajamas eating junk food and drinking wine into the new year. Instead she invited me to be her date to a fancy New Year’s Eve party where I wouldn’t know anyone. I said yes?

I credit the wonderful group of friends that she has with the incredibly great evening that I had. While 2013 was a banner year for me professionally, it kinda sucked personally. And yet somehow I was charming and felt pretty and made several good friends at a New Year’s Eve Party. I even ended up kissing an adorable nerdy/arty guy.

You know, I have heard about New Year’s Eves like this and I have seen them in movies, but I never thought it would happen to me that I felt like NYE was a symbolic ending and beginning in a social or personal way. I doubt it will ever be duplicated quite like this.

The college professor introduced himself as “Doctor Soandso” and I responded “Nice to meet you, I am Doctor BettyC (I really do have doctorate)” and then the nice man in the middle introduced himself as “Master Soandso.” The lovely lady just laughed and laughed. “Doctor?” “Doctor?” we all said formally as we shook hands. I have found that the key to engaging pompous people is to call them on it and if they can laugh I can deal with them. If I had offended him this picture would never have been taken. As it is I have some lovely memories and new friends.

Happy New Year from Dr. BettyC!

The kids are with their dad this weekend. It should mean that I get the weekend off from parenting, but I volunteer for the high school debate team, so that means that from November I spend ALL my Saturdays from November through March driving a van of high school kids to high school debate tournaments and judging debate rounds all day.

I had other things to do today – my husband’s family had a big gathering today – an early Thanksgiving. My bookclub met tonight. My tango group had an event. But i gave my regrets to all of those people because of debate. My kids and debate come first.

So last night I cleaned my house (my property owner is coming by on Sunday) and went to bed early. I got up at 5 and picked the kids up at their dad’s and drove to the high school. The debate coach was surprised to see me because he told me that I had the day off – he had fewer kids this weekend this usual and didn’t need me. So I drove home and went back to bed. I got up and ate a pot pie and watched Turner Classic Movies (an adorable comedy). Then I went to a movie downtown (Twelve Years a Slave) and came home to nap. I got up to each nachos and watch Netflix. I don’t ever do this. I really needed to do this.

Don’t tell anyone I was home today, ok? Sleep! Junk food! The house to myself!

I’m going to put on a record and finish this bottle of wine and go to bed in my clean house and wake up in my clean house and feel well rested and indulged and relaxed for the first time in a long while.

We were running late and crabby. I turned up the radio.

“Let’s dance in style, lets dance for a while
Heaven can wait we’re only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst” I sang along.

“Are you going to drop the bomb or not?” they joined in as we sat at the parking lot. The mood shifted.

By the chorus we were exaggeratedly moaning,

“Forever young, i want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever forever
Forever young, i want to be forever young

Some day I will collect all of my morning commute stories and I will bind them and give them to F at his high school graduation. I cannot wait until my morning routine only involves getting ME up, dressed, fed, and transported to work. At the same time I will miss this.

“Do you really want to live forever?
Forever young”

I have had an unbelievably good year professional-wise. I have gotten several very favorable newspaper articles about cases of mine. I had a universal remand from the State Supreme Court (pretty much that means that I am right and the State was wrong and nyah nyah). I have had some grant ideas that went over well.

I got an award at work (basically the employee of the year award) and I just got a letter telling me that I got another award – this time from a group of agencies that I work for. I am supposed to get the aweard at an annual awards breakfast and it’s kind of a big deal.

Bill was happy for me (we had lunch today since I had the day off and he was home, of course) but he refused to even consider going to the awards breakfast.

“They’ll be people and hand shaking and speeches and I’m going to have to meet people.”

“Well, yeah,” I said.

It’s a goddamn awards ceremony FOR HIS WIFE and all he can think about is that he would have to shake hands or talk to someone.

Fucking hell.

It has been one of the absolutely strangest weeks.

The part that is easy to explain (believe it or not) is that my daughter’s friend committed suicide by jumping off a downtown building on Sunday night. She found out Monday at school. She goes to a small liberal arts focus high school of about 90 kids and they are pretty close. The part that freaks me out the most is that M was with her friend on Sunday night about an hour and a half before she killed herself. The child had a long, long history of depression and was receiving treatment. She had just been hospitalized and released. Monday evening was pretty stressful for all of us. M wanted to be with her friends and I wanted her to be at home. My son was uncomfortable about the whole thing.

The weird part about Monday is the continuing contrast between my professional life and my personal life. I found out Monday morning that I was selected for an advocacy award and then there was some strangeness at court with my husband who was late to a hearing and caused me a lot of alarm (I was there for my own client’s hearing). We’re separated, but still close. He practices law out of the dining room of our house (He lost his job in February and has been unable to find a new job. He has 2 cases and is getting paid for one. I don’t know. It’s complicated. And seems private? But it’s a huge part of my problem right now. His mental health has taken him away from me and I feel like I made decisions about my life based on being a partner with him and the terms of the contract changed and I got no say in that. Would I feel this angry and sad if he developed cancer? or MS?). I brought him dinner Sunday night and knew that he was upset (about Lou Reed this time). When he didn’t show up in court Monday morning I worried he had killed himself (he’s attempted twice already). We had a sad exchange and then later when I learned about M’s friend’s suicide he made some really inappropriate comments. So on Monday evening I was parenting my kids by myself and trying to prepare for a hearing on Tuesday and felt incredibly lonely. The marriage contract included terms like, talk to me about my day (he doesn’t even know I got an award), do the dinner dishes with me, listen to my concerns about the kids and the world and the crazy stuff that happens. And it’s all complicated by the fact that I love him and worry about him very much. Sometimes I see a shadow of the man I knew and I guess that is why I stay connected. I have no desire to get divorced but living separately allows me to have some peaceful space. Monday I was reminded how much I need that space.

It felt like an absolute miracle that we all made it to bed by 10 and that everything got done that needed to get done – homework, hearing prep, dinner, candlelight vigil – and really it is the normal everyday stuff that gets us through tough days, I think.

It was a crowded DC bar. My friends and I were sharing a beer after a long day of collaboration on an educational program. A tall waiter wearing a black shirt and pants contrasted with a bright white, floor-length apron went by us.

“Oh my!” I said.

“You interested?” a man said to me with his amused eyes looking at me over the top of his beer glass.

It took me a second, but I realized that the man thought I was talking about the handsome waiter.

“I’m interested in a tray of oysters like that,” I said.

He moved over to join us and the majority of my group took off. “Early flight!” they said as they left responsibly. Of course I had an early flight too, but suddenly I had a handsome man with gorgeous eyes who wanted to split a tray of oysters with me and buy me a beer.

He works for a human rights organization. Specifically he was working on the problem of diamond harvesting in Africa. He explained that he was getting ready to leave for a trip to write regulations for diamond buyers. We got into an argument about the efficacy of this and the ultimate problem with buying diamonds. Our twinkly eyes and smirky mouths cut the others in the group out and soon it was just me with an early flight and him with an early meeting. I suggested a trip to the monuments at night, which he discarded as touristy, but frankly he ended up enjoying himself. We agreed that the Korean War Memorial is at its best at night (super creepy). He told me I was beautiful. We walked slowly as early morning came and it was truly ridiculous for the two of us to still be up. He offered me a job and we exchanged cards.

I got back to Nebraska and had a very sweet email from him that included a Jack Kerouac poem.

Seriously, who needs a goddamn diamond.

I have worked for the same company for 16 years. Until last year I would have told you that my coworkers are amazing, easy going, and that my office environment was enviable.

Some stuff changed last year and there are some tensions in my office that was previously tension free. We never talk about that stuff. What we do talk about is the dietary stuff. You know, it used to be that we were a classic office when it came to food – boxes of donuts or bagels or cookies were devoured. Potlucks had crock pots of beef and cheese dip and little smokies. Not any more. We have someone who is gluten intolerent, 2 vegans, a diabetic and someone who can’t eat dairy. Suddenly office treats and lunches are a HUGE deal. I have noticed that these two issues – the personality issues and the dietary issues both arose at the same time – as if the emotional issues manifest themselves with the dietary issues. We can’t just order pizza anymore and make one a veggie. We also need one without cheese and one without sauce (sugar) and one that is gluten free. Today for Boss’s Day (and I will note that the boss eats any gooddamn thing) we have a vegan cake (which, sorry, tastes horrible – I have had GOOD vegan cake and this is not that) and cookies that included THREE gluten free cookies (wtf) and the diabetic complained that she can’t eat any of it.

I took a REAL cookie covered with frosting and sprinkles no less and took it back to my corner office away from the complainers and I ate every damn crumb.

Frank wanted to talk about the plot of a horror movie about a child abduction in great detail. I kept interrupting.

“Stop. I don’t want to hear anything more. I am serious.”
“It’s just a movie, mom.”
“I have enough to worry about without more ideas in my head.”
“Like drowning,” he said with a smile. He was teasing me about my greatest fear as a mother. That my children will drown.
We pulled into the drop off drive at school.
“Love you, mom,” he said as he hopped out.
Oh man. I love you too. More than you can imagine yet. Let’s see how you feel about kidnapping plotlines once you have kids of your own.

The weekend featured some great food. Bill spent the weekend with me and it was a quiet, loving weekend with marvelous food.

Swordfish, homemade bread, caprese salad, ice cream on Friday night. We sat up late talking and enjoying each other’s company. Saturday we had a nice walk in the park with the dog. We picked up some stuffed mushrooms and steak at HyVee. We made caesar salad. After dinner we had a comical run to the Ross to see a Chinese movie about an autistic adult. We cuddled on the couch in my room and then fell asleep.

It was nice to enjoy each other. It felt familiar and old. It is nice to not feel angry. To not feel resentment.

Do you need to take notes to remind yourself that Lennie and George had a special friendship?

Apparently. Then you have to turn them in. If you don’t, it affects your grade.

And my thoughts on this are very complicated. It has become apparent to me that I have raised independent thinkers with high IQs. They can read Of Mice and Men and give you an exceptional discussion about it. They can pass a test on the plot points and literary devices. They are not going to hand in chapter summaries or notes from class discussion.

I struggle with parent teacher conferences for many reasons. The hubub of eager parents convinced that their “A” student is the next brilliant mind in the world exhausts me. I wait in line and introduce myself and hear the same thing I have heard about all three kids from every single teacher ever (the exception was a surprising conference with an industrial tech teacher in middle school who truly liked my child and seemed to understand her – that’s it out of all the years I have been going to parent teacher conferences). My kids have never been a teacher’s favorite and they are frequently a true challenge. “She/he is bright and has good contributions to class discussions and her/his test scores are adequate but she/he doesn’t do homework and has poor study habits.”

So I battle the crowded parking lot, the crammed hallways of buzzing parents, the lines to talk to teachers and hear the same thing over and over. I do it to put faces with the names of the teachers and to make sure they have my email address in case there is a problem more serious than not taking notes in literature class. I was at parent teacher conferences for two and a half hours yesterday. My time would have been better spent staying at home and reading Of Mice and Men.