There was a Paul McCartney concert at a giant stadium which involved a lot of panicking and running late resulting in my throwing my purse in the garbage because it wasn’t allowed into the venue and walking and waiting in another long line for a locker was not feasible at that point. I would like to point out I was well on time, it was the F that futzed around and made us late. In the end when we frantically ran to our seats, the show hadn’t even started yet. So the joke was on me.
Saturday we had the return of the school’s annual pancake breakfast, which couldn’t be missed because it’s such a beloved event, but had to be woken up very early for, and we all had to take covid tests for. The F couldn’t deal with getting there on time (do you sense a theme?) so I took the kids up and he joined us later. The kids seemed to enjoy it - we had pancakes and then they did little art projects, I bought some school merch, and socialized a bit.
Then it was another mad dash to the giant music festival we bought tickets to in 2020; another falling out over the F not being ready and having to make multiple stops before we got there making us hours later than I wanted to be - but once again, by the time we got there not much had happened anyway. I think somewhere between his extreme lateness and my extreme earlyness there has to be a common ground.
The festival was amazing - it was extremely, dangerously hot, so we were careful about drinking gallons of water, sunscreening and staying in the shade, but even then it was brutal on our middle aged bodies (being as most of the bands were from the 80s, the median age had to be 50, so we were not alone in our discomfort). Still, it was a great experience. I finally got to see Bauhaus, a teenaged favorite, and it was truly thrilling.
Since it was such a long day, we had two babysitters, with gaps where the kids were alone for an hour or two in the morning and afternoon. I’m so glad this is not an issue at their age. But it was a complicated jigsaw puzzle of timing and meals and who goes where, when, which stressed me out all last week but then went pretty seamlessly once the day actually came.
Sunday my book club ladies gave me a delightful bridal shower and then I went to the house of my new wedding hair person, who is a friend and hairdresser who had agreed to step in in September when I asked her. We made some progress deciding what to do with my hair, but also didn’t really get to finish even after three hours, so I have to go back next Sunday. Also, she says she isn’t really a makeup artist, so I may be on the hook to do my own makeup. Oh well. I figure you just slap on some fake eyelashes and you look like you had professional makeup done…right?
Theo has a big final project due at school, so this week I have to help him build a replica of mount St Helens. It’s funny to think that volcano erupted in 1980 when I was his age, and was such a phenomenon that I ordered by mail a little vial of ash from it, and ended up using it in a subsequent similar project. I think I still have the vial somewhere.
I finally hung the boys’ school pictures today, but left gaps for their covid year. I have the photos, which I took at home and submitted to the yearbook last year, but I have to print them out in the right size and frame and hang them. For now the gap in pictures on the wall for last year seems appropriate.
After all our unmasked packed socializing this weekend, I figure there’s no way we’ll come out of this weekend without covid. Can luck continue to be on our side at this point? I don’t know. I’m just hoping if we do get it that everyone clears it by wedding time, which now looms just over 2 weeks away. I can tell you one thing, if we do get it we are not canceling. It’s all outdoors, we can just throw masks on and not get close to anyone, fuck it. The show must go on.
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