Devine on 30

My 30th birthday started out as any other normal Monday, with the usual chaos of getting myself, my Bean child, and our lunches ready for the day, scrounging around the usual spots for coffee money (Handsome's pants, Handsome's night table, under the bed, in old purses), all with assistance and humor from Handsome.

I had to go into work early (as in 7:30 in the morning early) to gear up the department for a little thing called a Final Exam for my students. If anything, I needed to be sure that the exam was distributed, and birthday girl or not, I had to be there. Not only did I have the Final Exam to get into the hands of our eager and nervous students, I had MY own little midterm exam looming over the day for my Meteorology course. Oh, and I was turning 30, of course.

The walk to work was pretty "refreshing" lets say, since it was about 40 degrees and it never crossed my mind to grab a jacket before running out of the house like the witch from the old Bugs Bunny cartoons, hairpins spinning in her wake.

I finally got into my building and was (mostly) patiently waiting for the elevator, holding my ears to warm them up and convincing myself that since it was MY BIRTHDAY, getting a bagel with real cream cheese (not light) was allowed. As soon as I got the Final Exam on its merry way, that was exactly what I was going to do. Birthday bagel. You only turn 30 once.

Get on the elevator hit my floor, and wonder whether or not there will be a line of students needing to borrow a pencil or batteries for thier calculator waiting outside of my office.

While stamping my feet on the ground in hopes of getting some warming circulation, I finally noticed that the elevator had passed my floor and came to rest on the 9th floor - without opening the doors.

So of course I banged on every button possible.

The banging produced no results.

Holy Shit, I was stuck on an elevator.

Holy Shit, the exam was due to start in 15 minutes.

After some more frantic button pushing, a voice finally announced that "someone would be on the way shortly." The voice also agreed to call my supervisor to let her know that I was indeed holed up in an elevator shaft, and would she mind distributing the exam in my place?

After making human contact, I calmed down. I mean, its not like there was any mechanical groaning or swaying going on. I was just stuck in a metal box, 9 floors up.

I could do this.

Maybe this was God's gift to me on my birthday - Go on girl, you jest go on and take you a nice rest now (God has a Southern accent in my mind), and I am gonna take care of that exam nonsense fo' you. Go on now, hear?

So I whisked out my tattered flashcards for MY exam, settled in on the floor, and started quizzing myself on the Corilous Effect and the definitions of isobars and barometers.

And it was great for about three minutes. And thenI started panicking.

Well, before the true panic set in, I got mad. I mean it was my 30th BIRTHDAY after all - so what is THIS all about. And then I started thinking about all the mechanical things that could go wrong and The Bean and Handsome and the Cats and the crotcheting project I always thought I would finish. And the floor of this elevator was DIRTY. I needed to get out.

Panic Panic Panic, and then I decided no more panic, just to reflect on what a great birthday weekend it was. Yes, yes, happy thoughts, Devine. Back to the time you weren't suspended in the air in a steel box.

The In-Laws took Bean Child for Friday night, and Handsome and I painted the Charm City a fine shade of red. We partied like we did before we even lived together. On Saturday, we slept in for the first time in a year and ate bad delivery food and watched bad TV. That evening, 8 friends went out to dinner. It was such an awesome mix of personalities that it actually worked, unlike my usual pot-luck personality clashes I bring together for no good reason. Sunday I met my dear friend from Florida, who made arrangements in her life for a visit with crazy me, for coffee at the brand spanking new Barnes & Noble in Charles Village. And the coffee was FREE. Definitely good birthday vibes.

I had one of the best birthday weekends of my life - full of friendship, laughter, books, and the Bean Child. Suddenly, 30 was starting to feel quite good. Good like the end of a British Chick-Lit novel.

Yes, happy thoughts helped me get through the next 15 minutes until finally the maitenance men banged on the doors to let me know that they were going to perform some Abracadabra Open Sesame Mojo on the doors to release me.

And when I was finally free, I tossed a quick wink and wave to my heroes and made a mad dash to the stairway to get to my office.

Upon arrival, my boss began laughing and shouted HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing to miss handing out the exams. As a matter of fact, being freed of all exam responsibilty was a fabulous gift from an unknown benefactor. And now I can add "being stuck in an elevator" to my list of life experiences.

Feelings about the Neighborhood Fall Flat

Lesson learned: do not bake 5 cakes, 36 cupcakes, decorate the house, clean house, plan outfits, or plan ANYTHING when it comes to having a birthday party for my child. And to use a suction thing on Bean's nose whenever she has a cold (something I thought went out of style after she was like, 4 months or something).

We are the kind of family that needs to remember that we CAN go with the flow, hold onto the promise of spontaniety, and appreciate the events that work out somehow, in some fashion. We SO totally need to never really plan anything. Our girl is generally happy with whatever we do, so I must learn not to overthink or put expectations on anyone or anything.

Planning, I now know, was the first mistake.

Friday night, Handsome and I cleaned like professionals and I decorated the entire dining room with some pretty gaudy "1st Birthday" paraphenalia which, for all its cheesy factor, wound up looking really nice. Heck, my child only turns 1 once.

I decimated the kitchen by baking 5 differently flavored cakes that would ultimately become the catapillar body of the Baby Einstein mascot. I hoped. I baked cupcakes as back up, and completely overdid every task on the list.

Saturday morning, Bean woke up with a serious fever of 103. After some medicine, it went down and she seemed well enough, but it was clear that we were going to need to rethink the party. Whatever was happening with my daughter needed to be shared with our guest list.

After much back and forth about what to do, we limited the "party" to family and 1 friend and her fabulous child. My poor child pretty much missed her entire 1st birthday party - she had a good time for MOST of the party - she loved seeing her girlfriend, loved getting presents and eating cupcakes, but I could see how she really wanted to beg off and go rock with Mom or Dad for 4 hours. I am not sure if we did the right thing by forging ahead with the amended party plans, but at least she got her first birthday cupcake and she seemed to have an okay time.

By Sunday morning, her condition worsened, and Handome and I knew it was an ear infection, her 5th in the past year. We decided to get her out to Patient First to see a doctor, to confirm what we already knew to be true, and to get medicine to speed her recovery.

Upon leaving the house, we discovered, of course, a flat tire on the car. So I am standing there holding my sick child while Handsome is struggling with changing the tire, which is much more complicated that your average tire change thanks to the German idea of securing tires to the rims (or something like that, according to my husband). Jiggling the Bean in what I thought was a comforting manner, I would up being generally annoying to my husband by spouting off useless commands about changing a tire, and whatever else I thought was important to share with him while he was belly up under our car.

And that is when I felt like someone was looking at me...sure enough, one of the new neighbors that recently moved down a few doors from us was peeping from his second story window. My first thought was Damn, I still haven't brought over that bottle of wine that I intended to bring for them as a welcome gift...

When the Dude saw that I caught him staring at us, he back away from the window.

My next thought: Uhm, how about acting a little neighborly and getting your Peeping Ass down here to help my husband? Or is the fact that my child is practically screaming and that I am almost in tears, and that Handsome is about to perform a whoop-ass on our German car too entertaining to you?

And it occured to me that I recognized his face - it was the same Dude who smiled at me when our same German car wouldn't start one day...two other neighbors had come out to offer thier batteries if I could get a hold of cables, and this guy just stepped by us without even offering to see if he HAD cables, which I imagine he did in his faggy gold lexus-look-alike car he drives.

Seriously, what the FUCK. We obviosuly needed help. Would it really have killed the guy to offer some assistance? They can forget about my Howdy Neighbor Intentions of giving them booze. Asshole - why don't you move back to Canton? I didn't think that this new neighborhood was like that - but apparently, yuppies are moving into the most urban areas, and continuing with thier dickhead attitudes of not being neighborly.

The tire was not getting changed by us, that much became clear, so I tossed my burning child into her car seat, literally rolled to the nearest gas station, and filled the tire with as much air as I thought it could hold so that I could get her to the doctor.

It was ridiculous, but I got her there, got the medicine, got her home, and the tire didn't blow up on us, thankfully. Of course, we still haven't gotten it fixed, but that is that part of the going-with-the-flow type of situation that I am working on.

Once we get it fixed, and the Bean is fully recovered, I think that Handsome and I should kick back with that "good intentions" bottle of wine and smile.

Bottom line, Bean is getting better, and she did have a good birthday considering the limitations.

After all was said and done, the decorations and cupcakes were tossed, Handsome and I looked at each other, and I said, "damn, our girl is 1".

New Duty Assigned to Devine

One of the recently passed down duties at my new job is to LIE to CREDITORS who are seeking out one of the Boos. Oh, the life skills I am learning here. What a lucky lady I am.