Last weekend was a total blast. I was here, there and everywhere from Chicago to Milwaukee, and back again. It was tons of fun, nice and relaxing, and chock full of awkward moments, which always make for great stories.
Moment 1: Friday night I was out in the suburbs with my parents for my uncle's concert. A little back story: My uncle is a friar and also a bit of a musical genius. He can play tons of instruments (harp is his favorite) and he composes absolutely beautiful music. (Oddly enough, NO ONE else in my family got his talents. Total bummer.)
So we were at his concert in the theater of a nearby university, and I was standing with my parents waiting to be seated, when the usher came over to us. She was an older lady and leaned over me to get a closer look at my Mom's ticket. Suddenly, I felt her hand take a swipe at my bum. Not just an accidental graze—it was an intentional feel.
I was a teeny bit creeped out, but decided to ignore it.
At intermission, I walked out to the lobby and realized the same usher was staring at me. Our eyes met and she immediately walked right over to me.
"May I rub your dress?" she asked, smiling up at me.
Before I could respond, she reached down and forcibly petted—no wait, more like rubbed—my thigh.
"Oh wow! That's real madras! All those squares are actually sewn together!" she exclaimed out loud.
Of course, I blushed and nodded and my Mom, who caught the rub down, laughed awkwardly and steered me away from her. Yikes. Who knew madras could get such a rise out of old people? Guess I better rethink my plans to wear my madras dress any time soon.
Moment 2: Saturday night I drove up to Milwaukee to pick up J at the airport. He was coming back from a school trip to Germany, which involved him taking a handful of 15-year-olds to mix, mingle and learn history with German students of the same age. It was a very cool opportunity.
I was so excited to pick him up, so I thought I'd get there early and run in to meet him at the terminal. Unfortunately, I was running a little late and he was running a little early. I pretty much threw my Mom's car (I don't have one. Sad.) into the parking garage and ran into the airport.
So I practically skipped in, not really looking where I'm going, and found myself smack dab in the middle of a HUGE celebration for World War II vets who went to D.C. for the first time. I had no clue what was going on—I just saw hundreds and hundreds of people dressed head to toe in red, white and blue, waving American flags like their lives depended on it. And there I was, running through the crowd in my bright purple dress, not even realizing there's an intense display of patriotism going on around me. I obliviously marched right down the ceremonial walkway the families had created, still not noticing what I was doing. And when I finally realized where I was, it was a bit too late. I felt very, very purple, very naive and very anti-American. I almost wanted to scream out "I'm Canadian!" or something. It was super awkward. And the glares I got from people? YIKES. I felt like I should grovel at the feet of a bald eagle to make it up to them.
Moment 3: I had a good time at a wake. Er, wait, that sounds bad. More like I didn't have a bad time at a wake. And it made me feel really inappropriate. Long story short, my old grade school music teacher/musical theater director passed away last week. She was a lovely woman, so lively and full of positive energy. Everyone absolutely loved her.
On Sunday, I went to the wake with my Mom. Right off the bat, she ran into her old students, including the daughters of the woman whose wake it was. So it was fun to see how they all interacted after more than 30 years, and it made me see a whole new side of my Mom.
And then we spotted the husband of one of the daughters. He's an actor who played a pretty important role (the groom) in a certain 90s movie I LOVE about a reluctant father getting ready for his daughter's wedding. He looked exactly the same as he did back then and it made me all giddy. And then I felt weird for feeling giddy and it was vicious cycle in my head the whole time. But anyway, it really was a lovely wake...and very touching, too.
Sidenote: I seriously need to stop listening to "Will You Be There" by Michael Jackson, from the Free Willy soundtrack. It used to be my FAVORITE song when I was 7, and now it's hitting me all over again. And I keep waiting for a whale to jump over my head or something.