call me crazy, but i just came across a wicked acoustic version of alanis morrisette's "ironic." hmmmm. well somehow, in my head, that seemed like a good lead for this post. isn't that always how it goes....

last Thursday, i drove home, faster than i probably should have considering i'm on "probation." i tried to keep cruise at 73-75mph.... the occasion 68 to ride the ass of the shithead who pulls in front of you in the left lane when he clearly sees you coming. i left at 5:15, leaving me about an hour and a half of darkness. i noted Custer (my favorite incorporated city sign) and the beckoning bends of highway 10 that i know so well that its almost romantic. and then the "home stretch" - the exit ramp from 10 to 41. i was shocked to see the orange cylinders blinking from my headlights. it's been almost a decade since they've done that much work on 41. and the speed limit was FIFTY-FIVE! i just about died. but i made it home. i stepped into my house, more illuminated and more aged-looking than i remember. warmer than i remember. i was greeted by all, handed a plate of just-toasted pizza, and asked if the drive went well. i replied with the, i suppose, aging answer: as well as it could have.

per usual, my mom barked at my dad about the VCR being up to par for our grey's episode. and yes, i said VCR. i went to bed early, and after taking a few minute to get comfortable in my already comforting bed, i was out. coffee friday morning, followed by a trip to the TJ Maxx to help her look for some autumnal decor for the kitchen. i got some wonderful kitchen accents myself and a candle i know i'll miss when it's burned down.

i swung by horace mann to pick up my brother and decided to take a stroll through the building, which made me feel about 9 feet tall, and after running into four old teachers whose first reaction was, "i didn't even recognize you," to which i replied, "that's a good thing." the teacher i really wanted to see was mr. schneider, who i apparenly feel comfortable calling 'Scott.' i wrote him a letter saying that i was "sorry i missed him." my mom said i was borderline inappropriate. i argued that i was adult enough to call him by his first name. my class was his first year of teaching. he's cute and rumored to be single. my dream of marrying Neenah could come true!? ummmm....

Dubbs, my mom, Cam and i grabbed dinner at HooHuts where my mom and i had a couple alcoholic beverages to go with our Mongolian food (superb). and after suggesting grabbing a few martinis at the St. James, Deb agreed. to cut to the chase, we got awfully, but happily drunk. three Cosmos and three glasses of red, red wine later, we were beyond ex-boyfriends, marriage proposals and other things of the like (including the names of the bars in Wisconsin where she can "run into" those of my past) and we were rolling down the Civic's windows, cruising South Park singing Bryan Adam's "only thing that looks good on me." after arriving home safely and catching the last 15 minutes of sex and the city, Ayrica called and i went back downtown to meet her for a few more drinks. i ran into a guy i've known since kindergarden and a friend of the family. lots of faces looked familiar, including a crush Hannah and i shared about eight years ago.

Saturday = fox river mall (FRM). it was crowded despite oktoberfest, so i didn't enjoy it as much as i thought i would. however i found a pair of shoes so i'm happy. later, we were both craving egg salad and (this came to much of a surprise to me) my mom makes extremely exceptional egg salad. she uses relish. sweet eggs. so we peeled them together. i taught her how to peel an egg with speed. she was impressed. "sometimes you CAN still teach an old dog new tricks."

Deb and i woke up early Sunday to go for one of our walks. the perfect way to start a Sunday. the trees were of toasty colors and the sun was touching. i realized, sometimes i like feeling older. i regret neglecting my family in the way i did. i realize that it was probably unavoidable - i am who i am. i was quick to come my own rescue and do something about it. my journalism degree plays a good role in relating to my mom's job... and stress.

i'm a good daughter. she's a good mother. i have a better than 'good' family - a dad who isn't afraid to kiss the corner of my mouth when saying goodbye - a brother who is now 2 inches taller than me and just about as smart (and sly) - another brother who i believe will come around someday - ambition that i've inherited from both parents - the ability to communication through writing with excellence from my parents - and a dog who thinks he's a cat. in other words, i'm grateful.

.....and i'm going home again this weekend, because i want to, and because i owe it to my parents. my pride isn't getting in the way anymore.