I sincerely hope none of you were contacting the local authorities. I have returned. And, let me just say, I could really use a vacation. Since last we talked I entertained The Boy's parents, spent the better part of last week in Maine and entertained The Fan (Tara!). So much love, yet also so much...information. I will hold off on Maine, as I have some gorgeous pictures on my home PC and, since I haven't yet splurged on any form of internet there, I can't figure out how to get that goodness in here. But, don't despair! I still have plenty of gems for your enjoyment. Or distraction. Or for whatever it is that possesses you to come here.
Let's start at the very beginning (it's a very good place to start, n'est-ce pas?). Somehow, The Boy and I (with the help of Ryan, barbecue chef extraordinaire) pulled off a nice little cookout for The Parents and their friends before the game last last Friday. I walked to the stadium with The Stepmother, who is neither ugly nor mean, and lamented being left by our respective others to catch up. My parents beat us there, and we all had a good time. Except when some jerks followed me up the stairs (where I was meeting my mom) waving money at me and applauding. Men: Please tell those in your gender to stop this. Or buy them some sunglasses or something. Leering is not okay. And yes, that's what they are doing, and yes, even with said sunglasses we can tell, and no, you are not discreet. It is not flattering. It is not funny; it is not acceptable. And these opinions do not make me a bitch. Having to voice them as often as I do makes it apparent that there is a problem, and it isn't with my perception.
Saturday morning I picked my little sister up and we spent the day with The Boy's fam. At the aquarium I saw possibly the coolest thing I've ever seen. (Also, how cool are turtles?) The male seahorse in one of the tanks had just given birth (minutes ago), but I couldn't spot the babies (seacolts?) until another bystander pointed them out. Nearly transparent, they were maybe a centimeter long. I expected them to look something like tadpoles, but even at that size, they were completely formed. I have never seen anything so small, yet so intricately designed. Sometimes it's not the sunset or the stars that remind me of God's greatness; sometimes it's the details. I can't help but think, if He cares enough to form seahorses that completely, from the beginning (if someone knows of the importance of seahorses, shoot me a line), doesn't He care about everything I've got going on, no matter how trivial it seems? I tried to take pictures, but they were so small they wouldn't show up. The Stepmother came back to get me because I was holding everyone up.
That night, my youngest brother joined us for dinner, and we had a blast. We walked everyone through Fells Point (in my poorly chosen heels). Here, we revisited the leering thing, but in a much more offensive manner. Little Sister and I walked together. Little Sister is 12 1/2. Little Sister looks much older than she is. So, as she and I walked, I noticed that much older men were giving her attention. The most grievous offenseoccurredd when a man walked by and jokingly included her in his conversation, touching her arm while he did so. "Why does he think he can just touch me?" She asked, outraged. And to that, all I could say was, exactly. Men: If she looks young, assume that she is. But more than that, leave girls alone. You'll know if they want to be bothered, and if you're that guy, chances are pretty good that they don't.
Anyone want to give me a hand as I step off this soapbox? It's hard to balance in these heels.
So, keep on anticipating stories from Maine, which will be accompanied by lovely pictures. I know you're probably disappointed that it doesn't sound like I hated it, but be encouraged, I'm pretty sure you'll laugh anyway.
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