Morning Fog

Dead Celebrities

on January 13, 2008

I am sitting in what I now refer to as The Dead Celebrity Room. It was formerly known as Sprite’s Bedroom, but since she is now living in her own pad with her own husband, and since she took her desk and computer last night, making her departure formal at last, and since I have now moved my desk and computer in here since I have missed having a den/office/study, wait, where was I?

Dead Celebrities.

The room is still decorated a la Sprite. Behind me is a gigantic poster of Marilyn Monroe, with the caption I want to be loved by you. To my right, over her Zebra-print-covered-former-bed (yes, zebra print) is an even bigger poster, of Elvis. Young Elvis. Studly Elvis. Dead Elvis.

To the left of that we have two posters of The Beatles. Young perky innocent Beatles, and Abbey Road-era Beatles. Technically only 50% dead, but that band has been broken up for 38 years, so that has to count for something.

38 years?

Holy cow. I remember when they broke up. How can it be that long, and when will I stop marveling at how old I am and just accept it already? Probably never. I am still 18 on the inside and I guess I always will be.

Speaking of which, when I was growing up, women were generally considered to be Over The Hill at 25. Nobody talks like that anymore, but they did then. 25 was it. Had to be married by 25 or you would be an old maid. Over the hill. Undesirable. Phooey, of course, but whatever.

I always thought the whole Over The Hill thing was a lot of rubbish. But lately I have come up with a theory and have decided there is a hill after all. I call it 45. I think once you hit 45, you are definitely sliding down the other side. If you haven’t hit 45 yet, just wait.

I think a woman who has taken reasonably good care of herself can look almost as good at 44 as she did at 18. But when you go around that corner, over that hill, down that river called “45” you don’t come out at 46 the same way you went in.
I have noticed this over and over, and especially in myself. I thought I would be immune for some reason. But alas. At 43, 44, people didn’t believe my age, thought I was too young to have kids my age, kept insisting I couldn’t be 40 yet, yadda yadda yadda. I ate it up thinking that I would, of course, always look that way. Why not? Because I hadn’t hit 45 yet, that’s why!

Hey, I just realized that three out of four of these dead celebrities never even made it to 45! Better over the hill than under it, I guess…

Whilst in the shower a while ago, I also realized that I have spent 34 of my 48 years tied to one Catholic Institution or another, in some way or another. 70% of my life as a student, parent, volunteer or employee. Or even various combinations of those at one time. Moreover, I have had at least one child in a Catholic school continuously since Jolt started kindergarten in 1989. By the time Squirt graduates from high school (assuming Catholic high school and I don’t even want to think about college) I will have paid…um, carry the one…26 straight years of Catholic school tuition between the three kids.

Hey, you know what else I was just thinking?
Insanity Season has pretty much come to an end.

My Own Personal Insanity Season starts October 30th and ends on January 8th.

Why? I’ll tell you why.

October 30 – Dad’s birthday
October 31 – Halloween
November 15 – Mom and Dad’s anniversary
November (varies) – Thanksgiving
November 29 – MIL’s birthday
December 3 – my wedding anniversary
December 4 – BIL’s birthday
December 10 – husband’s birthday
December 24 – Christmas eve
December 25 – Christmas
December 26 – Niece’s birthday
December 27 – Mom’s birthday
December 31 – New Year’s Eve
January 1 – New Year’s Day
January 8 – Daughter’s birthday

And you know there is a whole lotta stuff going on during that time…parties, gift exchanges, school christmas programs, NOT TO MENTION all the usual holiday stuff you do because you have to do it.

We had dinner with Sprite and her Marine to celebrate her birthday, finally. I still owe her a bit of a shopping trip to get a gift, but I am poised to take a deep breath and exclaim it’s over!
That dinner was great, actually. All three kids, plus Sprite’s Marine and Jolt’s Surfergirl. I wonder if I should still think of her as SurferGirl? I mean, sure, she surfs like everyday, but as a PhD student, she is a whole lot more than just a surfer.

Which got me thinking earlier today…
markers of intelligence and education.

At Sprite and her Marine’s apartment, you will probably find the books she needs for her upcoming semester (if she has bought them yet, which she probably hasn’t) and her computer that she just took over. I will venture to say that is about it. I don’t count the XBOX. She has 3 semesters of college under her belt, and he has zero.

At Jolt’s place, I know there are at least three computers between the three roommates, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are four. As in maybe one of them has a laptop and a desktop. There are books galore, and all three of them graduated from one of the best universities in the state. Roomie #1 has her Masters already, roomie #2 (Surfergirl) is in a PhD program, and roomie #3, Jolt, has deferred two PhD program acceptances and will probably end up in one. I laugh at how different my two kids are, and they surround themselves with people just like them. In Jolt’s case, it is great. In Sprite’s case, I wish she had gone the Opposites Attract route and chosen a scholar of some sort. But she wouldn’t.

True story…he got kicked out of Spanish in high school. Why? His teacher was dissing the war and the troops, and he spoke out. His brother was in the Marines and in Iraq at the time, and he couldn’t take the Spanish teacher’s anti diatribe. So he got kicked out of Spanish class for it! All was not lost, they put him in Drama, which was probably a lot more fun. But do you know how many times in high school my daughter spoke out that way? A lot. Never in such a confrontational way, and she took Drama by choice 🙂 But I am sure she hears that kind of story from him and just swoons.

Anyhoo…I need to go disappear into the abyss that is lesson planning. Adieu.


3 responses to “Dead Celebrities

  1. Rosietoes says:

    For me it was actually 47. I still get the “you can’t possibly be pushing 50” exclamations, but I can see the turkey neck starting, not to mention the boobage is seriously getting wrinkly. And did I mention the wrinkles in my face?
    Guess it’s time to book the facelift!

  2. Brian says:

    Went to a local museum over the weekend. The Margaret Woodbury Strong National Museum of Play. That’s play as in toys. I was shocked (SHOCKED I tell you) how many toys I grew up playing with were in a MUSEUM! It just ain’t right.

    Now you’re reminding us how long ago it was when the Beatles broke up. Man. I had a bunch of their singles. 45’s – remember those?

    I feel so old now . . .

  3. l'empress says:

    Go ahead, lay it on me! I was “over the hill” when the Beatles were at their height — and still single at that time. Make you wonder how I ended up with three children (now grown-ups) and an old geezer of a husband. Well, there was that song my mother used to sing, “she’s the last rose of summer…”

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