Queridas Familia y Amigos,
I don't want my newly developing blogging skills to get rusty, so I thought hmmm, what can I write about today? My latest summer outing, of course. Let me set the stage a bit. Oh, about 20 some years ago, I was dancing in my best friend Erin's basement, grooving to our favorite band, with less skills than my 2 1/2 and nearly 4 year old nieces have, but I was loving life. I remember looking up at her mom, Carrie, and breathlessly uttering I feel like I'm going to faint. No, no it wasn't the fact that I was dancing while wearing the newest wool sweater my grandma had knit me (the one with the big, cute dog on the front), I was really just this woozy over NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK. That same Christmas, Linds and I had gotten everything NKOTB. We're talking pajamas, jewelry, sleeping bags, sheets, and towels. (As we opened the box with the towels, my Aunt Abby cried out Now you can rub them all over your body! Yay, my 10-year-old self, horrified, wrinkled her nose and never touched those towels again. I mean, I loved Joey McIntyre, just not quite like that at that point in my life.) So it was with this sentiment that I landed myself, along with Linds, some of our friends, Mom and some of her friends, at The Target Center to watch The Package Tour (the tour is quite appropriately named as it features three different boy bands; if you don't know what I mean, ask one of my high school students, or a high school teacher for that matter). One of Mom's friends got us hooked up with a suite which was indeed pretty sweet. After dining at 508, Linds and our friends met up with Mom and her friends to get our scream on essentially. I'd actually forgotten that my voice could do what it did last night. Not even Gus on his naughtiest day has inspired decibels like that. There's still something about those synchronized boy band moves, combined with Step by step oh baby gonna get to you giiiirrrrl that makes my booty shake, with moves that are at least as good as Natalie and Gia now. Altogether, the concert was quite the adrenaline rush. I always appreciate the way music can bring you back to the exact moments of the past.
So, in other exciting news, I've been taking care of more details that demand attention as I prepare for my departure four weeks from today. My house is now occupied by a sweet couple who reports that they love it (maybe enough to stay for two years?). While I miss the city, I am now "employed" as my mom's trainer (she's walking the Susan G. Komen with Cass in honor of Aunt Abby) and nutritionist. I'm enjoying having people to cook for as much as they are enjoying having a personal chef, it seems. The other day I made a trip to the travel clinic in St. Louis Park to get inoculated. I've been feeling pretty Zen lately, and kind of wanting to toot my own horn about it. You may know something about the anxiety I've suffered in the past--I don't recommend the anxiety diet to anyone; you look svelte, but you feel like hell--so I've been especially pleased with myself about my current stable state. I'm sure I'm soon to be humbled on this front, and the travel clinic was just a taste. I nearly skipped in, thinking I was just going to stick my arm out, get a shot, and take off, and pretty much wobbled out, my legs a bit shaky, after hearing about the risk factors of my new environment. Really, it was reading the stats on the Yellow Fever vaccine that did me in. Before the nurse administers the vaccine, she had me look over the sheet to make sure I should be getting it. Risks of the Yellow Fever Vaccine I read Life-threatening severe illness with organ failure (about 1 in 250,000). More than half the people who suffer this side effect die. WHAT?! I mean, I know my odds just waking up and getting in my car are probably worse than this, but nobody makes me read about it! Have you ever had anyone react poorly to this vaccine I hoarsely ask the nurse. Nope she replies with a smile as the needle is jabbed into my arm. At this point, I'm feeling quite clammy. After waiting for 15 minutes after I've gotten the shot (safety measure), I feebly climb into my car. I have to turn the music off as I head back towards A-town on 169 because I'm feeling the need to just focus on deep breathing with no distractions. Difficulty breathing, weakness, a fast heart-beat, all signs of a severe reaction. I feel them all. Steady girl I tell myself. Turns out I wasn't a 1 in 250,000 because I've lived to write about it. But, I must sign off now so I can go practice some yoga and meditate ;-)
Tengan una buena noche, familia and amigos.
Jame
