And What If We'd Said Rubens Instead?

Two more tidbits from the San Diego trip:
Thing 1) On Sunday we sat around recovering from the busy events and watching football. I mostly bonded with Lisa's husband and sons over this because LT, her daughter Meg, and her friend Rose weren't particularly interested in it. By the third game (classic NFC rivalry: Eagles vs Cowboys!) I think Rose was ready to scream. But boredom often presages some great creative endeavors. She and LT started watching the people watching the game rather than the game itself. LT, Rose, Meg and I were piled up on a feather mattress on the floor - brushing each other's hair, giving back rubs and commenting about all kinds of things about the game besides the plays. Not catty things - but we talked about things like the announcers (I LOVE Madden and Michaels) and the Philadelphia fans (who are ridiculously quick to boo their teams!). Contrast that to LT's husband Rob and her two sons (ages 17 and 21). The boys were all sitting at least four feet away from each other doing separate and silent things like reading the paper, playing PSP, and searching for internet connection while watching the game. Earlier during the exciting game the guys and I had all been on the couch watching intently and talking a lot and exclusively about the play(er)s, coaches, teams, philosophy of positions like Tight End etc., but by the third game when we had all mostly worn out our football jones - there was a definite slide back to the mars/venus ends of the spectrum. Very interesting.

Thing 2) When the family stuff was getting a leetle overwhelming (Saturday night?), LT and her 18 year old daughter Meg slipped away from it and into the room that Rose and I were sharing. We talked girl talk. It was fun to have Meg there - beautiful, adult, compassionate, quirky Meg. She's right at that cusp where she's welcome and valued in adult circles but can still sit at the Thanksgiving kids' table if she wants to. I'd been in her car earlier with two daughters of a friend and a young cousin. The thirteen year olds were all adoring of Meg because she's a fabulous illustrator and an expert in manga. Their conversation veered into the weird as they discussed which anime boy they had "dibs" on if he ever became human. (It took me a while to cotton on to the fact that they were talking about Bleach, not bleach. I'm quick that way.) Anime boys are the updated Prince Charming archetype; this generation's version of the old Teen Beat idols like Scott Baio and Shaun Cassidy. With a difference. The unattainable celebrity boys of my generation were at least - um, real to a certain degree. They were at the core - human beings even if their press was over the top. I overheard Meg use the words "tasty, male flesh" to describe fugiyachimoogu (or somebody like that) and I thought, "Tasty? Tasty how? What could he taste like? Paper?" I'm ok with all of that though. I like that the girls are taking their time dreaming about unreal boys. I like that they're spending their time building friendships not drama prone romances. It was fantastic to see how comfortable Meg is in her own skin - how easily she navigated between being the new girl in her mother's circle of friends and being the older, wiser, cool cousin. The gate between girlhood and womanhood used to have everything to do with marriage and babies and now it doesn't. Some girls get lost in nowoman's land - but LT has been such a good mom and helped Meg find her own transition. I loved getting to be a part of the circle.

Thing 2b) I just remembered one more bit to share. We were lounging about discussing unwanted curves in our figures. I will never be able to see this picture again without thinking of my dear friend and her daughter. Rose and I were cheering LT up with references to womanly figures in history and Meg misheard us. Meg heard "pot of jelly". Much hilarity ensued, including the words, "Repeat after me. 'I'm proud of my jiggly butt.' " (And if you do not know Foamy then follow the link and click on Jiggly Butt. You will be disturbed but amused, I promise.)

Peace.