Reflections, Rockin', and Rollers

Almost three weeks in, 2014 has been a good, productive year so far. I have been blissfully busy with work and play, but I haven't taken any time out to reflect yet. Hold on to your hats, folks. It's Reflection time!

First, a brief word about Reflections. When I was in math teacher school, my fellow future math teachers and I all vowed to make our future math students write Reflections every day. That sounds like a vow to be a dedicated teacher, right? Well...not exactly. You see, we had to Reflect a lot in math teacher school, and I hated Reflecting. Fellow math teachers: you know that twit who whines, "but this is maaath! Why do I have to write in maaath class?" on every story problem or journal entry? That twit is basically me as a math student. Thus, when I vowed to make my future math students write daily Reflections, it was mostly out of spite. I figured that if I had to Reflect to become a teacher, my students should be forced to Reflect twice as much, by golly! Luckily my training and my teaching experience have demonstrated that Reflecting on a lesson actually really helps students make a connection between what they learn and what they know/understand, so it all works out. Even so, let this be a lesson to you, kiddos: Sometimes grown-ups make you do character building stuff just for kicks, and every now and then it just happens to be good for you. (You didn't hear it from me.)

The Reflective Property of an Ellipse

Ok, that's enough of a tangent. Is there a point to all of this reflection? Probably not, but if there is, I'll get around to it soon. (Excuse my bad math humor, but you get a gold star if you can correctly identify all the puns. I have even included a clue. Sorry, math teacher friends. You are automatically disqualified.) 

In a previous post (Pants), I mentioned Moe's Mo'Roc'n Cafe, the club where I spent just about every night of being 21-23 years old. Last week, I attended a Moe reunion party and a couple of the anniversary shows, and I had a fantastic time. I saw some great live music, I got out of the house three times in five days(!), and I saw a bunch of old friends, a couple flames, and even a fling or two that I haven't seen since the club closed in 1997. Think Rock 'N' Roll High School's 20 year reunion, only not nearly so boppy.

It was weird to reconnect with people who only know me as the 23 year old MoeMercy. These are people who never knew the awkward, slightly insecure, drama geek, wallflower TeenMercy or the more cautious, slightly insecure, homebody, wifey MathMercy. These people met me during a period of young adulthood when I was relatively carefree, confident, flirty, independent, opinionated, and sometimes loud and obnoxious. You know what? I like that chick. So, maybe I channel my inner MoeMercy more often...only without all the booze and staying out until 4am every night. MathMercy needs her tea and sleep. 

MOE!

Happily, the Sunday night show at Moe started and ended early (because apparently no one can stay up late on a work/school night anymore). I was on the freeway heading back to my little suburban cottage by 11:30, reflecting on what a great week it had been and how awesome it was that I would still probably be home by midnight. About 15 minutes from home - right by my old house actually - police lights came on behind me. I pulled off onto a dead end street as two police cruisers pulled up behind me. 

I have been pulled over maybe 5 times in the 25 years that I have been licensed to drive (That's right. Idaho gave out licenses to 14 year olds. Terrifying, right?) The few times that I've been pulled over before, I totally panicked and more often than not, burst into tears. Disgusting. This time, though, I was oddly calm as the officer walked to the window and told me my tabs were expired. I told him this was probably going to sound like a line that he hears all the time, but I had just received the truck when my divorce was finalized on 12/16, and had only decided not to sell it a couple weeks ago. I simply hadn't thought about the tabs yet. He asked a few more questions, collected my documents, and walked back to his car.

It seemed like it took waaaay too long for him to check my record. While I waited, I used my smart phone to pull up a copy of the divorce decree to prove my story. He still wasn't back, so I looked up the nearest emissions check station and DMV office and added them to my agenda for the morning. Still waiting, I turned up my iPod-powered stereo: Police and Thieves. Not as bad as I Shot the Sheriff, but not good. I turned the music off  The longer I waited with the lights of TWO police cars broadcasting my shame to the neighbors who were doubtless peeking out their windows, the more I felt like I was going to jail. Let me go on the record here: this was totally irrational. I just couldn't imagine what could be taking so long, and my imagination was left to its own devices. Oh my gosh. I told him I hadn't been drinking, but I did have two beers about three hours ago. Should I tell him when he comes back? No. Then I'll be a liar on top of whatever else he's finding on me. I should probably just practice saying the alphabet backwards. Z - Y - X...What is he finding on me anyway? Did I maybe get caught by a red light cam that I don't know? Can they arrest me for that? Rational thought inserted here: my name is not on the title for this vehicle yet. Will they let me use my debit card to bail myself out or do I actually have to call someone? Who should I call? Mom is an attorney, but could I really handle calling my mother from jail? Shit. There were people smoking (something that is perfectly legal) in here tonight. If I reach for that fabric spray in the back seat, will he think I'm reaching for a gun? I kept one hand on the wheel, grabbed the spray, and got off a couple spritzes just before he finally came back to the window. I braced myself to be asked to exit the vehicle.

"What's a good contact number for you?" The officer wrote my phone number down in his little notepad. He continued, "I feel bad because of your situation..." Is he about to let me go? Oh wow. Please let me go. I really don't want to see what the inside of a jail cell looks like. "...but I do have to give you this ticket" (which was already written out, tucked behind his notepad). He then told me he was NOT advising me what to do, but he STRONGLY recommended that I check the box on the back requesting a mitigation hearing so I could present my story and my proof of registration to the judge. I thanked him and promised to take care of the tabs first thing in the morning. As he drove to the end of the cul-de-sac to turn around, I started to tuck the ticket into my wallet. Wait. My phone number is not written on this ticket. Did that cop really just take my digits? I think he did! If I had been flirty, could I have avoided getting the ticket altogether? He was cute and had really nice blue eyes...I'd date that guy, especially if he wore his uniform. Yeah, I think uniforms are pretty hot. After all, this blog IS called "Confessions..."

My tabs are now current, I have mailed my request for a hearing to the Seattle Municipal Court, and now I'm just waiting for that date. If Officer Blue Eyes does call, I want to make sure there's no legal awkwardness between us. :)

Aloha and Mahalo

January 3 is an aloha and mahalo day for me. Trivia tidbit of the day: according to Wikipedia, aloha has only meant "hello" and "goodbye" since the 19th century, but it actually means "affection, peace, compassion, and mercy." Nothing is more appropriate for my January 3 than "hello, goodbye, affection, peace, compassion, and mercy," as well as the gratitude and respect expressed through mahalo.

Pigeon and me in our kittenish years

One year ago today, I said goodbye to my best friend of almost 18 years as I released my Siamese mix, Pigeon, to the great hunting grounds in the sky. Graceful, playful, talkative, and aloof, Pigeon was my familiar spirit, my daemon through adulthood. What follows are a few of my favorite memories of her.

Pigeon was an excellent judge of male character, which is to say that she was generally not a fan of my boyfriends. Perhaps I should have paid closer attention to the fact that she consistently pissed on my ex husband's skateboard for the first year or so that she knew him, right? Pigeon had an amazing trick where she would jump out a third story bay window and into another on the outside of the building in order to escape from her litter mate during games of chase. She would then sneak up behind him and meow at him to get the chase going again. Pigeon would always lie dangerously close to a heat source and she knew that the pops and clangs of a 100 year old radiator meant that heat would be coming soon. A clever kitty, she would bang on the radiator to try to get it loud enough to turn on. As a kitten, she had an adorable habit of leaving her tongue sticking out just a little bit. She would wake me up by sitting on my chest, staring earnestly at me with that ridiculous tongue sticking out. It was all I could do not to laugh her off of me every morning. There is no better way to wake up than with laughter and love in your heart, and I adore her for giving me that gift. Aloha and mahalo, Pigeon.

My heart broke when I took Pigeon to the vet that last time. It was the first time that I had been to Inglemoor Animal Hospital, but I was so impressed with the level of compassion and professionalism that they showed for what could have been a one-time visit. When I requested cremation, the vet told me that Pigeon's ashes would be spread over an apple orchard in the Yakima Valley. True to her word, I received a postcard with a picture of Pigeon's final resting place a month or two later. The vet also told me not to stop at the front desk to pay, that we would take care of it at a better time. That was such a small gesture, but it meant so much to me. I have been treated just as well every time that I've been back to the clinic. I highly recommend them if you are in a need of a vet in the Bothell/Kenmore/Juanita area.

PepPurr and Savvy moments before a play-fight

Six hours after saying goodbye to Pigeon, I said hello to a new black kitten. I know that may seem awfully soon, but it was something I needed to do, and I'm so glad I did. My PepPurr is a lovey little clown who is an amazing playmate to my dog, Lola, and my other cat, Savvy. She may not be an alter-ego like Pigeon was, but she is a manifestation of sheer joy and love. She allows Lola to lick inside her ears, has taught Lola how to wash her own face with her paws, and is fearless in bringing out the kitten in a cranky cat who is twice her size.

PepPurr and Lola clownin'

Incredibly affectionate, PepPurr likes to smash her face into mine and purr for attention, and she wakes me up with sandpaper kisses on my chin or nose. When I was having a tough time last summer, PepPurr, Lola, and Savvy would come together and compete with each other to lap the most tears off my cheek, which almost always ended in laughter. Honestly, I could go on and on about how great this cat is, but I will spare you any more crazy cat-lady talk, dear reader. Mostly I just want to express how grateful I am that PepPurr came into my home and my heart on 1/3/13. Happy adoption day, PepPurr! Aloha and mahalo.

In keeping with the theme of cats and this blog's supposed theme of dating, I will close with this, a gift from my cousin L, who has also found himself wading in the deep end of the dating pool. I love it.