Deborah Woehr

My boys will be heading off to school tomorrow. In prior years, I was relieved to have a break from the fighting even if it meant fighting with them later to get their homework done before dinner. Not so this season. We went on a special vacation, to several movies, had the occasional lunch, and watched the Olympics together. During the down times, they entertained themselves most of the time. There were a few scuffles (hey, they’re boys), but nothing memorable.

Today was the last day of summer for all three of us. The last day to sleep in, the last day to do whatever they wanted. The oldest finished his first homework assignment. Yes, you read right. His school assigned homework last week, and they weren’t even open yet! Over the summer, he was supposed to read one of the books from their list. Guess when he started? Like I said, he’s a boy.

My youngest did what he always does–play several rounds of video games and watched his favorite TV shows. Right before dinner was ready, I asked him to do the dishes. He began stomping around to the point where I asked him what was wrong. “Three hours of summer vacation left,” he said, totally bummed out.

For some reason, I’ve always overlooked the Summer Olympics, preferring the Winter Olympics because of the beautiful figure skating and the luge. I’ve been watching this year’s Olympic games with mild interest, mainly because my husband turns it on.

One thing that caught my eye was the US gymnastics team. Rather, it was the girls and the tense looks on their faces on Monday. Bridget Sloan looked like she was going to the gallows. Chellsie Memmel had a disastrous moment when her hands accidentally slipped off the bar. Right after that, Nastia Liukin fell flat on her back. The only one who seemed unflappable was Shawn Johnson, who performed near-perfect routines without a hitch.

The girls got better as the week went on, but I was worried about Nastia, especially when I heard that her father was her coach and former Olympian. He had missed winning the gold medal by one-tenth of a point. It’s one thing to compete for yourself, yet another to have to compete for someone you hold dear. My heart went out to her because she had double the pressure.

Despite a rocky start, she won the gold yesterday. Read more about it in the article below.

A Family Gold for Liukin

I’ve been hemming and hawing about joining Twitter for the past several months. When I first heard of it, I thought it was another fad that would die out. I tried the social networking sites like Ning, but quickly grew tired of them because they took too much time that I didn’t have. The only time I visit my MySpace page is when someone posts a comment or sends me a private bulletin. So, why would I bother with Twitter?

Reason #1 - Several of my friends are there

Some people can walk into a room full of strangers and feel totally at ease. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them. What I do in that situation is walk up to the friendliest-looking person and start up a conversation. That’s harder to do online.

Reason #2 - Curiosity

I keep receiving emails from Internet Marketing gurus about how Twitter is pivotal in the success of their businesses. Now, I’m aware that these guys like to pour on the hype. But when John of Syntagma told me that I was missing out, it piqued my curiosity. I began reading the posts on his Twitter page and those he is following.

Yesterday, I decided to go for it. That’s when I found profiles for several of my friends. Not only that, but my oldest son signed up for an account two weeks ago without telling me. A few new silver strands sprouted from my scalp yesterday.

I set up my profile, posted a few things, and tried to pull away from the site so I could work on my latest chapter. Then I found myself distracted when my Gmail alert told me that a friend was now following me. I went back online and downloaded a Twitter alert app. Soon, I was back on Twitter, responding to my friends’ updates.

Despite this, I managed to get over 500 words written for my WIP. Right now, it’s 9:20am and the board is being fairly quiet. That’s good because I have to take the boys out for school-related errands. Yes, that time of year is coming.

I was first introduced to Joe Satriani’s music back in 1988 when I heard Crush of Love on the radio. Although I liked this song, I never bought an album of his because, at the time, instrumental rock wasn’t my thing. And, his other songs during that period didn’t compel me to spend the money on an album.

Fast forward twenty years. My music collection is horribly dated and uninspiring. The radio stations out here don’t offer much but the Top 40 and some alternative rock. So, last weekend, I spent several hours exploring Amazon’s music section and discovered Satriani’s new album, Professor Satchafunkilus and the Musterion of Rock. That title a mouthful, isn’t it?

One of the things I enjoy about Amazon is the ability to listen to the music before you decide to buy the album. Well . . . you have 30 seconds to decide whether or not you like the songs on the track. I liked the driving, upbeat rhythm of Satriani’s music, especially his guitar ballads. I’ve listed my favorite songs off this album in the order that I liked them.

• Andalusia
• Revelation
• Out of the Sunrise
• Musterion
• Come On Baby
• Overdriver
• Asik Veysel

My ultimate favorite is Andalusia. The introduction of this song reminded me of something I would listen to while watching a movie, somewhat melancholy and forlorn. I pictured a scene where someone is sitting in a restaurant, dealing with some kind of loss. While I couldn’t see the person’s face, I saw them sitting next to a window that overlooked a body of water at dusk. I’ve never experienced spontaneous imagery like that while listening to music. The song revs up after that, churning with emotion that held me captive.

The rest of the album was very good, although there were a couple of songs I could live without, such as I Just Wanna Rock. Music snobs have criticized this album for not “pushing new ground.” As a mainstream listener, I enjoyed this album and what it had to offer. Satriani is an incredibly talented musician.

I received a nice surprise yesterday when an old friend called to wish me a happy birthday. We talked for a good half an hour about a variety of things. Then she got on the subject of making time for your friends and how tomorrow might not come for one of us. This was after she told me about two colleagues she had lost in two separate accidents. She ended that vein of our conversation by saying that we need to get together soon.

I agreed, not because I was afraid that one of us would drop dead at any moment but because of the way she buoyed my spirit and made me laugh. She’s twelve years older than me, so she’s been through the things I’m going through now. After I hung up the phone, I realized that I felt better than I have in months.

The rest of the day went peacefully. I watched TV with my boys, played around with Bryce (a 3-D graphics software package), and enjoyed a nice stromboli dinner when my husband came home. I’ve been drooling over the latest Adobe upgrade and hinted to my husband that I wanted it.

We came away from the dinner table stuffed, and watched Big Brother (why, I’m still not sure). I waited patiently. Maybe he’ll bring it out when we’re ready for the cake. Halfway through the show, we took a break and went out back for a smoke. I spotted the cake on the counter, but no gift.

Did he forget? I tried to put it out of my mind as we talked about the show. The boys came out shortly after we did. I looked at them and at my husband. They were smiling and happy. Their faces and laughter buoyed my spirit.

But that stupid, childish voice kept whining at me inside my head. “What? Not even a card?!”

I hated that voice. It kept trying to ruin the moment with its petulant stubbornness. In the end, that voice overcame my common sense. I smiled and said, “Do I have anything to open?”

My husband gave me a knowing smile. “That’s why I tried to entice you to go out to dinner tonight,” he said. “Are you disappointed?”

“No,” I said honestly. The thought was in his mind, and that was good enough for me.

“I knew I was going to take you somewhere to get something electronic, but I didn’t want to get the wrong thing. We can go out to dinner this weekend. Then afterward we can get you some books . . .”

I didn’t quite hear the rest. As soon as he mentioned an evening out, the rest didn’t matter. We went back inside and finished watching the show. During a commercial, he commandeered the boys into singing Happy Birthday to their mother.

When I got home from work today, I found a small gift sitting on my kitchen table. The boys told me that my mother-in-law had come to take them to the movies and left this behind. My youngest was sweet enough to cut the ribbon so I could open the gift.

Once I got the wrapping off, he groaned. “That’s a happy face! Man!”

My oldest said something in response to his brother’s reaction, but I don’t remember now. I smiled at them and at my mother-in-law’s thoughtfulness. What I thought I wanted for my birthday no longer matters. What I received was priceless and special.