Flashback to 1990something

I've been catching up with some high school friends on Facebook. It's amazing how clearly I remember some events that happened more than 10 years ago (O.K. more like 15). I still feel happy, embarrassed and sad when I think about the events that made me feel happy, embarrassed and sad in high school. Isn't that weird? Why should I still care? Why would I cringe today when I remember an embarrassing moment that happened 14 years ago? Maybe I'm not cringing about the event. Maybe 32-year-old Dawn is feeling empathy for high-school Dawn.

Luckily I mostly remember happy days (my own, not the show's). When I look at this picture of my high-school cross country team wining a regional championship, I still feel the pride that I felt that day. I feel a bit silly about still taking pride in that day. I don't want to be that old lady who tells grocery store check-out clerks about how she was prom queen. (Not that I was, of course, or I would certainly have told you before now.) Besides, haven't I done something more, um, recently that I could take pride in? Let me think... Graduated high school. Graduated college. Got job. Moved across country. Got better job. Got married. Bought house. Got new job. Moved back across country. Sold house. Bought second house. Yeah, doesn't seem as exciting as that regional cross country championship, huh.

Maybe I won't become that chatty old lady as long as I don't talk about my past accomplishments with strangers. Maybe that's how I can embrace my past without living in it.

Barack Obama addresses the nation

Were you too busy partying on Mardi Gras, putting your baby to bed, working late or visiting with your CW friends to watch the president's speech Tuesday night? Fear not, my friends. I gave up an hour (plus 15ish minutes) of my time to take notes for you. Here's my own little unofficial, unauthorized re-cap of President Barack Obama's speech. You can find a transcript here

Seventeen minutes into President Obama's address to congress (and us) and the speech finally begins. My gosh. If we're going to have to watch 16 minutes (we clapped for Michelle for one minute) of political leaders walking, can we at least add a red carpet and some gowns?

Eighteen minutes and we're clapping again. Twenty-one minutes and more clapping. Twenty-two minutes and (you guessed it) more clapping. Can we please get going?
Tax cuts? O.K. now I'm clapping.

Some more cheering (and standing) for the plan to offer more small-business loans. The housing plan to help "responsible" families make payments and save money on their mortgages gets a few claps. Almost everyone stands for help for American tax payers and against evil corporate bosses fleeing their responsibilities on cushy jets.

Obama's budget plan has three main components: energy, health care and education.
Energy: It's time for America to lead again. The nation that invented cars won't step away.
Health care: Seeking a cure for cancer in our time. Reform. Health care has weighed down our economy and our conscience long enough. "It will not wait."
Education: Those countries that out-teach us today will out-compete us tomorrow. Invest in innovative programs, expand commitment to charter schools. Every American needs to commit to at least one year of higher education. Dropping out of high school is no longer an option. By 2020 America will have the highest number of college graduates. Responsibility for our children's education must begin at home. It's not a democratic or republican issue, it's an American issue.

We're done with the three components of the budget, but not the speech. Time for more clapping...

Our future: Don't pass onto our children a debt they cannot pay. The recovery will not be easy, but the recovery plan will not raise taxes for those families who make less than $250,000 a year. These families will not pay one more dime. Repeat. Not one more dime.

The war: We will responsibly end the war. We will not allow terrorists in safe havens across the world to threaten Americans. We will support our troops 100 percent. We will raise their pay and give them the expanded benefits that they have earned. There's clapping and standing at this point as the cameras' pan to several servicemen standing near the First Lady.

More clapping as cameras show a bank president who split his $60 million bonus among his current and former workers, the leader of a town in Kansas that was destroyed by a tornado that's now being powered by clean energy and a little girl who wrote a letter to her government asking for help to save her school because the students are not quitters.

Just as American's are not quitters. The recovery will not be easy, but American's don't take the easy route, they take the necessary one. (In case you have still have too much Mardi Gras beer sloshing around your brain, that means this plan is the necessary route.)

Overall, there was a lot of clapping, standing and cheering. However, there was some booing and face-making at certain points. When Obama said there were no earmarks in the recovery plan that passed, there was quite a loud bit of booing. (It has been reported that there are in fact several earmarks). There were many unhappy faces shown when Obama called the national debt the "inherited" national debt. (Was that fair to George W. Bush? Debatable. Was it true? Yes.)

Whatever you may have thought of the message, you have to admit the man gives a good speech. Now let's hope he's good for the economy.

Push ups are for girls

I just watched Jennifer Love Hewitt do 10 girl push ups on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. She couldn't do real push ups? Really? She's a celebrity. It's practically her job to work out. Pathetic.

Naturally, I did not keep my feelings to myself. I shouted at the screen. This is not uncommon. TV is one of my best friends. I like to keep a pretty steady dialogue going with my HD friends. Unfortunately, Jeff was eavesdropping on my conversation with Jennifer. Note: Jeff has had a crush on Jennifer since those "Party of Five" days. It's a pretty bad crush. I once caught him watching an episode of "Ghost Whisperer."

Anyway, Jeff challenged me to beat Jennifer. Ha! Fantasy Girlfriend was about to be crushed by Real Life Wife. I wasn't worried. This was not my first push-up contest. I gulped down the last few sips of my wine, took off my socks (slippery hard-wood floors) and told Jeff to count me down.

He got to seven before my shoulders started hurting. I slowed down at four. On the last two I was honestly afraid my arms were going to give out. But, I did it. Ten real push ups.

Real Life Wife wins.

Valentine's Day is all about the heart

Jeff and I spent Valentine's Day at The American Heart Association's Heart Ball. It was black-tie so Jeff got to wear a tuxedo. Notice I wrote "got to." He was, naturally, very excited. He loves to wear itchy, uncomfortable clothes. He did look cute, though. Here are a few pictures.

Denny's gets personal

We're driving home from work when Jeff announces that he wants a grilled cheese sandwich. Um, O.K. let's find the nearest kids' menu.

We go to Denny's. Because Jeff ate there as a kid, he's sure he'll find a grilled cheese on the menu. I think it will be funny. Denny's is the home of the 3 a.m. stuff-your-drunk-face-silly Moons Over My Hammy. Going to Denny's at 7:30 p.m. on a Tuesday? Sure to be funny.

Jeff is frowning after a quick perusal of the menu. No grilled cheese. I'm wondering how old you need to be to order a "senior special." The entire back page of the menu is devoted to the blue-haired set.

Jeff brushes off his disappointment and settles on the Moons Over My Hammy. I decide the meatloaf is the funniest thing on the menu. It will be accompanied by mashed potatoes with brown gravy and veggie of the day. I think veggie of the day is a funny concept. Is it just the special day for one vegetable? Do the veggies ever have to share their days with other veggies? I hope it's broccoli's day.

The waitress writes down our order and closes her notepad. She doesn't walk away. She's still standing there staring at me. I give her an unsure smile. She leans toward me. "Uh, do you have a personal item?" she asks. "Um, are you serious?" I want to reply. Instead, I rustle through my purse. No luck.

She walks away. Wait. Do I have one in the car? Jeff thinks so, he walks out of the diner. He returns empty handed. Really? I'm sure there are some in the glove compartment. Nope, no Advil.

Advil? That's not the "personal item" the waitress needs.

I explain. Jeff confirms that there are in fact several personal items in the car.

I leave the restaurant. I return with two items. I find the waitress keying an order into a computer. I give her my finds. She's grateful. Very grateful. Yes! I'm certain my meatloaf will be free of spit.

The food arrives. A different Denny's employee brings the plates. My hopes of a spit-free meal have dwindled. The meatloaf tastes awful, but it is broccoli's special day. Yay!

We leave Denny's. We laugh. See, Denny's is funny.

An interruption one warm afternoon

It's 70 degrees in Columbus today. Jeff, Sassy, Alley and I spent the morning sitting outside basking in the sun. Drinking fresh coffee and flipping through magazines with the sun shining down on us was the perfect cure for my winter blues.

Oh those poor cold-climate dwellers trapped inside staring out their frost-covered windows at blankets of snow. How much better it is to be sitting outside watching the dogs run in the warm grass, I thought.

What a perfect day.

And then the booming began. It started softly. Almost like the sound of distant thunder. Jeff and I looked questioningly at each other. We looked over at Sassy curled up on her towel, sunning herself. Sassy's ears perked up. The noise began to get louder. It became more frequent. Sassy started to whine. Alley started to growl. We all looked into the sky. Clear, bright, cloudless. The ground began to quiver ever so slightly beneath our feet. Sassy ducked behind Jeff's chair. We heard gunfire. Rapid, loud, unsettling. More ground shaking, more loud booming.

The soldiers were out. The tanks were rolling across fields. The grounds of Fort Benning were turning into a practice battleground. The sounds of war were infiltrating our quiet backyard.

Sassy continued to whine. She looked pleadingly into Jeff's eyes for help. Couldn't he stop the sounds?

"Sassy, I've done every thing I can," Jeff said. "I voted for Obama."