Demi, Ellen, financial aid and too much alcohol?

Last night was a nice break. My best friend invited me to the mountains, where she is now living. If that brings to mind images of neanderthal man or big foot- let me clear the air. She, being a fellow single mother, of four boys is living in a small mountain town in her parents basement apartment. 

One of our many reservoirs in the area was holding a celebration of sorts which happens to fit smack-dab in the middle of both out nations independence day anniversary and our states discovery- by the pioneers. There was to be a picnic in the park, live music and fireworks. Because the mountains are approximately 10 degrees cooler than the valley, and it has been sweltering here, I took her up on the invitation.

We didn't take any food, I ate before I left- budget constraints. We packed a cooler full of beer she had on hand- also cheap and available. It would sure help the cool-down factor. We threw in some chairs and blankets and headed for the hills/lake. Neither of us are big drinkers- one or two beers, glasses of wine or cocktails and we are happy- and done. So we took four. 

It was a good time. Not much to report. Music, chatter with a good friend, and then the finally with the fireworks. Most people were there in family groups so it was certainly not a location for meeting anyone. 

But- here is where the story gets a little weird.

I climbed into bed at about 1am. The alcohol helping me to slip into slumber. And I awoke around 7am. 

Now, I rarely have dreams and if I am dreaming, it is rare that I remember them much longer than a few minutes upon waking. But this morning, I remembered clearly. 

My dream began with my standing in line at the unemployment office (which with the invent of the internet I have never had to do). I was explaining my situation and in return getting grief as to why I was not working when I have a college degree. Words such as lazy and no good were used excessively. 

My face was turning red, I am still not sure if it was from shame or anger. And in walked Demi Moore- yes, Demi Moore. She had on a pair of coveralls and her hair pulled up into a beige baseball style hat. I did not recognize her at first. 

She snagged my by the crook in my arm, as I have not been pulled since grade school and pulled me out the door and down the street into a very fancy office. The office was very modern and clean and empty. She asked me to wait there and that was when I recognized her. Who could mistake that velvet voice? 

I was alone- waiting. It was then that my parents appeared. Not saying a word. Just sitting near me and smiling. And I didn't say anything to them. Next came my kids, same scenario. 

I knew the look on my older daughters face, she never could keep a secret and that is what her face was saying now. But she didn't speak. From somewhere below, I could hear many voices. Almost like an audience. Clapping and one person speaking. Letterman? No- a woman's voice.

And then a woman with a clipboard came into the room. She took my children and ushered them down a tall staircase more resembling a ladder than stairs. Where were they going? More applause.

After a few minutes- my parents descended. Applause once again. 

I waited, getting nervous... is this the day of reckoning? Have I done all I could have? Was it punishment for not being able to take care of my family to the best of my ability?

And then he appeared. A man much taller than I. By at least a foot. Blonde hair hanging over his eyes. He spoke softly. Telling me not to be nervous. Telling me that this will be over soon. Ashton?

I look down at my hands wringing in my lap and discover that I am still in my ratty cut-off shorts and dirty T-shirt I mowed the yard in this morning. Should I be dressed more appropriately? And what would be appropriate?

I began to descend the same ladder-like stairs and down into the bright light....

And then see my family, they are spread across one of those oh so familiar talk-show guest couches. And there at the end? In the single, hosts seat? Ellen Degeneres.

I cried. She said she could help. I cried more. I remember telling her, I don't deserve this. I am a college graduate, I can support my family. So many need this more than I do.

But, I was helped.  I think. It was not clear after that.

The audience broke into a quiet roar... I woke up.

_____________________________

I am not making this up. I couldn't.

I couldn't help but laugh. Had the alcohol messed with my subconscious? Had I watched too many day-time talk shows this week? Is the stress getting to me?

What in the world do Demi and Ashton have to do with anything?

And as I sit here writing this, I am reminded of the soap box I perched myself upon in my latest post.

You know, the one about bailouts and easy fixes. And then had a good laugh with my morning coffee.

Ellen, if you are reading this, I would not turn down the offer- If however you have yet to visit my humble blog, or my dreams well then I suppose it is up to me.

Happy dreams everyone.

Me? A Pageant mother?

It is true.

No, I am not sending a toddler out onto the stage in full on makeup and adult dance moves prey to the child predators.

My youngest daughter who just turned eighteen much to the heartache of her mother, is running for Miss Strawberry days.

I admit, the thought of girls parading up and down the stage to be ogled by the audience is a bit unnerving. However the benefits of the program surpass any uneasiness.
For a single mother, a scholarship for a daughter is a big deal.

In addition to the pageant event, the girls are required to create a platform. Despite the confusing title, a platform is a chance for the girls to get creative and come up with their own activity which will get them motivated to service, and potentially help them to raise funds for a charity of their choice.
It is such a great project.
One girl will be tutoring illiterate children and adults.

My daughter, has taken on a huge challenge.
In the next month, just two months prior to her high school graduation, she will be directing, producing, and presenting a small community play. All proceeds to be offered to handicapped individuals, more specifically the Special Olympics.

She will be auditioning, directing and creating the set and stage for a cute little play that she herself wrote.

I was nervous. She has had history of procrastination, of leaving tasks incomplete. But so far, she has impressed me. The scripts are written, edited and copied. She has already made arrangements for the venue, the props and the costumes.
Auditions will be held tomorrow and then the practices will begin.

She is a beautiful girl, inside and out but I could not be more proud of her initiative and organization.

The most amazing thing is that this will all be concurrent with graduation, a drama club performance of 'Children of Eden' and all the other activities that fall into your last few months of high school.

And, unlike most pageants and children's productions and activities, it didn't cost us an arm and a leg in order to win a small scholarship.

I wish her luck in the pageant, of course I think she is the most beautiful, and talented of the bunch. But the benefits she gets from this go well beyond the scholarship money.
I could not be more proud.

Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God, give me courage to show you you are not alone!

I attended the production of Phantom of the opera. My youngest daughters high school put on a fabulous production.
She had an opportunity in her first directing gig. Assistant Director. I couldn't be more proud.

They went way over budget but the sets and props and costumes were of the quality of an off-Broadway show.

I will be attending again next Saturday with the little brother of a long time friend. Here are some shots.

High school drama

My baby has been in many plays over the past few years. She hopes to own her own theater some day. Her personality fits the part, since she was very young she has been known to live life large. She has had some dramatic moments. When we disagree or when she gets into trouble she can get quite loud and over the top.

Friends of hers also have BIG personalities. Sometimes it is a bit much when we have them all in one room.

But nothing is worse than a disagreement between drama queens. Recently events caused my daughter and her best friend to distance themselves from each other. As often happens between teenagers, they had a fight and are now no longer friends. But it is different with drama students. Some drama students.

Thing is, the other girl just cant let it be at that. She is a bit of a spoiled girl. If she wants it, she gets it. If she 'doesn't feel like going in to school', she doesn't. She has a group of kids who follow her.

They will do anything she says or does. She is popular. Thing is- she is popular because she emits so much self love. There is something to be said for self confidence. In the teen years you either have it in abundance, or you lack the very essence of it. I was of the latter.

I have worked very hard to make sure that my girls had the self confidence that I lacked in my teen years. While following the fine line that they were not conceded. The thought that people somehow think that they are worthy of princess treatment merely because they are, because they exist, no matter how they treat others is a real pet peeve with me. This particular girl would walk on the back of anyone who would lie over a puddle for her passing.

I was a bit relieved at the thought of my daughter wising up to her behavior and moving on to some better friendships. Until I discovered the catty ways she has been acting. My daughter is a smart girl, and ignored the childish games. Stealing friends to HER side. Moving in on the lunch table my daughter frequented just to say there was no room... spreading rumors about mutual friends and claiming my daughter said them. Silly girl stuff. Immature stuff. But it is beginning to get under my daughters skin. She is losing sleep over it all.

 This post may come across as an overprotective mother, at the very least. Of course I want to protect my daughter, but I am not. She is handling the drama the best she can and I am so proud of her. But enough is enough.

I know exactly how she feels and looking back, I can tell her that it all changes after school. That popular kids have those years to reflect on but for some, those are the best days they will see. There wouldn't be films like Carrie or all those Lindsay Lohan teen movies if there was no such thing as teen girl cattiness. But when it is one of your own... it hurts.

I want to run to this girl, to her parents, to the school administrators and shake them all and tell them that this has to stop. But I know better. I want to give my daughter the best advice and hugs and bake cookies together and love it away. I know I cannot do that either.

This too shall pass but sometimes the hardest part of being a mother is to just take a step back and let things run their course.

I know the pain she is feeling and I want to take that away.

For now, I can just love her and support her. And we could both use a vacation!