I’m “the lady”

OK. I think I’m going through a pre-mature mid-life crisis. Do women even go through those? All I hear about is 40+-year-old men shopping for Trans Am’s and wearing toupees. Anyway, sans the Trans Am and toupee, so many things have made me feel OLD lately.

Last week we had the CO visit and for one of his talks directed at young people, he had everyone 25 and under sit in the first few rows of the middle section. OK, I guess I could’ve sat there, but I had a lot of stuff and I didn’t want to move and technically I was 25 1/2 as of June 7th (legally anyway, but that’s a whole other story). So just seeing that I was on the threshold of young and old and not being a student anymore made me feel old. But that wasn’t too much of a big deal.

So today I just went to my English district convention in Maine which does NOT feel like a district convention. (The ASL one is in July.) Conventions are something I usually look forward to weeks in advance, plan for, and stay over at the same Howard Johnson’s in CT. This one just snuck up on me out of nowhere. I didn’t even remember it was this weekend until last night. Normally, it’s always a part of my summer plans right in the middle of the summer and it’s just weird that this one is at the beginning of JUNE. Some of you may remember when our conventions were in Providence. After it stopped happening there, half the groups went to Maine and half went to Amherst. My mom’s district got sent to Maine.

Let me just say now that I hate Maine. Last time I was up there was for a friends wedding and as nice as that was, I still couldn’t wait to get out of Maine. So here we are at the Portland Civic Center. Funny thing is that the place looks like every other place we’ve gone to, but it just had this Maine feel about it which made me feel irritable. I’m sitting in my seat and this kid and his mom are standing in the aisle next to me and the kid decides to lean on my head. Mother responds by saying, “Honey, don’t touch the lady.” So I’m “the lady.” Who’da thought I’d see the day? I think I just felt some grey hairs pop out.

Also, as I said before this is my mom’s district. This means this is my old district from like 5 years ago. This I seemed to keep forgetting. I always get random people coming up to me thinking they know me. (After all, all Asians look alike. :/) So same thing happened today. Many people were like, “HIIIIII!!!” except this time they really did know me. I barely remembered anyone’s name, sometimes ’cause of forgetfulness, other times ’cause they look like a totally different person. Amazing what 5 years can do to a person. For example, this one kid who I knew of, but didn’t really know personally, looks like he’s gained like 300 lbs over the past years. Egad, I say. Others just aged what looked like 20 years. The part that made me feel old is seeing these kids I remember as little kids, now teenagers. One whom I remember on one of my camping trips when he was 4 is now 13 with braces and taller than me.

So yeah, I feel old. Icky. No good. I should go visit a nursing home for some encouragement. More about this convention, but that’ll be in next entry.

There is NEVER a happy ending.

All I wanted was ice cream. That’s all. Alas, too much to ask.

Went to the bookstudy tonight. Fortunately, didn’t have to tactile. Figures, since I was prepared this time with all my anti-bacterial gear. This week was difficult. Jeremy’s signing faster. I actually practiced a few times incase I had to tactile and still couldn’t get it right.

After hte meeting, I needed to vent, so Teresa and I went for ice cream. I almost said, “Let’s eat in the car,” but as we were walking back, she said, “Let’s sit here (outside table) for a bit.” OK, fine.

So I tell her the update on schtuff and also share my dream that I blogged the other day. I start talking about P. Diddy and how Paul’s interruptions ruined my chances with him. (Yes, I’m still holding a grudge.) So I’m getting ot the point where he proposed with the diamond-studded flip flop and the dream ended.

Just then, two bums come sit at our table. I had noticed one near the table with his dog, but mainly I noticed the dog, not the mutt on the high end of the leash.

The dog bum says, “Did they get married?”

I’m thinking to myself, “He is NOT talking to me.” I look over and he’s looking intently at us.

“Did they get married? I’ve been listening to the whole story over here. Are they married now?” says he.

Me: “Um… no.” (Considering one doesn’t exist.)

Dog Bum: “Aww. I was hoping for a happy ending.”

Other bum: “There’s no such thing as a happy ending… Is there?”

Me: “Umm… no.”

Incidentally, there are long pauses between the questions they ask and the answers I give. I’m trying to give the hint that I’m turned off by them trying to converse with us. Hint didn’t work as you can see.

Then I signed (or I think I signed), “No happy ending today.”

Dog bum: “I know a little bit of sign language.”

Me: “Oh, nice.” I was close to saying, “Like what?” Then I held my tongue. No way I’m keeping this convo going longer than it needs to.

Now there’s silence until the bums decide to speak again.

Dog bum: “Are you Chinese?”

(Kill me now.)

Me: “No.”

Dog bum: “Japanese?”

Me: “No.”

<pause> (‘Cause after all, what else is there?)

Dog bum: “Korean?”

Me: “Yes, but not really.” (Don’t even ask what that’s about. Isn’t it time for my train now?)

Teresa: “What time is your train?”


Me: “Soon.”

Teresa: “Shouldn’t we get going now?”

Me: “Yes.”

Dog bum: “Don’t let us scare you away.”

Teresa: “No, we just have to be somewhere.”

So we go. I didn’t think the dream entry would result in a sequel, but here it is.

Morals to the story:

  1. There are no happy endings.
  2. Always eat in your car.