We were reminiscing like we do, Rosita and I, talking about old friends and good times. We perused through the topics one by one. Those things all tied back in some sort of way to one room.
Room 501…just up the stairs
Drama.
It was the room where we focused on theater arts instead of social drama. It was the only class where you left your high school status at the door. No one was the outcast…everyone was the star. It was a hodgepodge of students from nearly every group of the school, like a sociology experiment. There was a dose of football players, a hit of stoners, a few metal heads, a couple of honor rollers, some preppies, a share of trekkies, etc, etc. Some of us were there for a fairly easy grade but most were there because we were drawn to the stage whether we admitted it or not. More often than not, the drama class itself came secondary to the laughter and the friends we made there.
As I said, we reminisced. We laughed like we do about times we had…hanging out in the drama “closet” which was a small office that had been turned into a storage room for costumes and props. If those costumes could talk, they’d have some pretty R-rated tales to tell you. I used to think those tales belonged solely to my husband and I but I discovered that we weren’t the only ones making out on the prop sofa from time to time. Good thing I constantly sprayed that thing with Lysol when I cleaned up in there. Who knows what kind of high school cooties that thing would have been harboring? Does Lysol kill gonorrherpesyphilydia?
We reminisced about the star football player that ended up in our class…no doubt for an easy pass suggested by the coach. My friend declared him gorgeous. I agreed. He was pretty good looking. She said she ran into him recently. She referred to him as “man meat”. I was nearly in tears laughing. Then, she told me something that surprised me…flattered me. Mr. High School Stereo-type not only asked about me but proceeded to tell her how sexy he thought I was. Of course, he didn’t remember my name…he asked her about “that other white girl” as if her and I were the only white girls in the class.
She and I laughed because apparently we were the only white girls that mattered. Yeah, we were pretty awesome.
We reminisced about how people used to be and how many change so much after high school. She started telling me about the ten year reunion that I skipped and about one person in particular showing up with body guards not because she was attending a New Orleans event but because apparently that shit is required when you are on the BET show, 106 & Park. It’s sort of a big deal…I suppose even though I had to google it because I had no idea what or who Rosita was talking about.
And yes, it required digging out a yearbook because I didn’t recognize the woman at all. All I can say is I will spare all of you the year book photo (I’m sure Raquel…or Rocsi…or whatever she is going by now days will appreciate it as well) and I'll just say good for her. Her stylists are doing an amazing job.
Rosita told a tale of phoniness, not necessarily of our ugly duckling classmate (and I use that description out of awe…not insult). People are flat out fake when it comes to money, power, and celebrities and our average old school chums are no different. But it’s just silly when people trip over themselves when a star is near…especially something so low on the totem pole as a reality star.
Let’s face it. Reality television is taking over the televisions sets (and intelligence) of this country and these so-called “stars” are a dime a dozen. Pretty soon, there will be a reality show about a reality show. Can you imagine? Camera crews following camera crews…boom mics everywhere.
I can’t say from experience that I’d never be star struck. Of course, I’ve never ran into George Clooney or Brad Pitt. I can assume though if I ever ran into a Snooki, I’d head in the other direction.
So it seems, the tale of the high school ugly duckling (aka just your average teenage girl minus the stylist a la’ She’s All That movie montage) turned reality star hottie, I’m sure, is becoming an epidemic among high school reunions nationwide.
Even this topic about a girl not even in our drama class went back to Room 501. Rosita laughed as I gave my reasons for skipping the reunion…about how I have no interest in seeing people that I had no interest of seeing then. Maybe that makes me snotty. Maybe it does. I explained that there were roughly a dozen or so people I’d be interesting in catching up with and they were in that room at one time or another. One of which has started her own blog. Most people that mattered at all to me, I have regained some form of contact with all thanks to Facebook. Of course, there are some I could have done without.
Room 501 was like a teenage Las Vegas in a sense that what was said there, stayed there. The teacher was amazing.
She was the sort of adult that every teenager needs in their life. You were able to confide in her and she would give you a mature, sometimes motherly opinion without being judgmental. Each tidbit of advice was given with a side of understanding that made you feel confident in yourself that you were capable of making the right decision on your own. She was the only adult that ever made me feel that way other than my older cousin who was 30ish at the time.
That room was a haven…a sanctuary. I had never felt so safe, accepted, or understood. I felt free to be myself…even though I had no idea exactly who I was just yet. Room 501 assisted me in finding the Asha that I’ve become.
So, I never shagged the star football player or made it anywhere other than home video but I have found the adult version of Room 501 right here in my simple, little life. You know what? That makes me happy and no matter how much Rosita and I reminisce there isn’t a damn thing I’d change.
During the time my husband was gracing us with his presence, I actually allowed him to leave the bedroom from time to time to spend time with our children. In the midst of this visit, we had a few small adventures locally that are worth sharing.
Too much sexy in one place
First and foremost, a friend of mine was kind enough to watch my kids for a few hours to give the husband and I time to go on a hot date. My husband took me to a fine dining restaurant (or at the very least the finest I’ve ever been to) called Rinie’s Kitchen & Wine Bar.
Rinie's Kitchen & Wine Bar
We had been there once before for our anniversary. Unfortunately, we had the kids with us so the experience wasn’t as pleasant as it could have been. We vowed to try it again without kids. We finally had our chance.
On the way there my husband joked that we would be sat near all the crying babies and fighting children since we didn’t have our own. He laughed as I suggested that we’d get stuck between a family with crying infant triplets and another table of fighting six year olds. So to prevent that situation from becoming our reality as SOON as the hostess asked where we would like to sit, I immediately asked to sit in the lounge in hopes we could avoid being anywhere near children. I actually asked her if kids could sit in there. My husband said she probably thought I was being snotty. I’d be lying if I said I gave a shit.
We got the night started with a bottle of wine. I chose a delicious Chilean Carmenere. It’s sort of a cross between a merlot and a cabernet sauvignon. It was Asunto from 2007. We ended up knocking out two bottles of that stuff. We also got the appetizer sampler platter. The platter contained fried calamari, bitterballen, chicken satay, and crab cakes. Sadly, I did not photograph the beauty that was the mere presentation of the food. Being the type of restaurant, I felt rude snapping pictures of the things I was about to consume. I mean after all, this wasn’t Long John Silvers.
We both had Caesar salads. I’m not sure if they made their own dressing but it was very tasty. As a main course, my husband got the Bacon Wrapped Filet Mignon with Grilled Shrimp. It was no surprised my husband got something that was “bacon-wrapped” because he lives by the same philosophy as I do…everything tastes better with bacon. For my main course, I ordered the Ahi Tuna with a Skewer of Grilled Shrimp. Needless to say, there was no room for dessert. I told my husband that was what the wine was for. wink wink
While my husband was here, he took pity on me allowed me to get a new camera since my old one was on its last leg. Isn’t it pretty??
He also purchased a few gifts for the kids and me while he was in Dubai.
My lovely earrings
a Hello Kitty purse
his very own Manchester United soccer jersey
The best gift of all (besides the obvious that my husband was home to share time with us) had to be my brand new shiny wedding ring. When my husband and I originally got married, we didn’t even have rings. I’ve mentioned before that we were young and stupid. Well, we were also broke as fuck. When we finally got our first set it was probably made of gold plated tin for all we knew. I think the whole set ran us under $100. Even in 1999 that was stupid cheap!
Years later in 2004, my husband purchased us a new set because he had lost his and I refused to wear the old ones. It wasn’t because I was being a materialistic twat either. We had gone through a rough patch that involved about a yearlong separation that left the symbolism of those rings entirely meaningless to me. The set he picked out for us was fairly inexpensive as far as wedding rings go. It didn’t have one solid diamond; rather it had four pushed together to give the appearance of one single diamond. I was as happy as a fat kid in a candy store.
My old wedding ring
One night a few years ago, I told my husband that one day when we had the money I wanted to get the stones switched out and have them replaced with one small diamond. I meant YEARS from now…like for our 50th wedding anniversary or something. However when my husband (did I mention he was freaking awesome??) came home, he said he wanted to purchase a whole new ring for me. He wanted it to be something I loved. He kept saying he wanted to get me the ring I “deserved”. Now as far as deserving a materialistic object goes, I want everyone out there in the blogosphere to know the only thing I want from my husband is his love and companionship. With that said, who am I to argue with him wanting to shower me with gifts? Feast your eyes on this gorgeousness!
TA-DA!
Another adventure we had involved taking the kids to the Sam Noble Oklahoma Museum of Natural History. As always, the husband and I enjoyed it more than the kids. It’s hard to convince them that they aren’t learning anymore. I guess we foiled their lazy Spring break plans. MWUHAHAHA! Here’s some shots of our experience.
We also took the kids on an ice cream excursion to McDonald’s. I couldn’t wait to devour a hot fudge sundae. I’m not sure which of us came up with the genius idea to take the kids for ice cream at 8 o’clock at night and then try to convince them to go to bed since they had school the next day. All I know is whoever came up with the idea was able to convince the other that it absolutely made sense. I suppose the separation has made us both slightly loony.
My family enjoys going out to the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. We always start the adventure atop of Mount Scott which we did this time as well. It’s sort of a ritual. It’s a beautiful site to overlook Lake Lawtonka as you can see from the photographs.
We’ve been out there a handful of times and in the distance we always see this tower. On this visit we were determined to locate it as it wasn’t advertised on any of the maps. Ok and we are pretty nosey.
Breaking rules is how you make memories, right? We ended up hiking along Lake Jed Johnson and finally made it. The majority of the hike was a winding trek uphill but we finally made it.
To our disappointment, the tower’s lower windows and doors were boarded. Apparently, the park rangers really didn’t want anyone up there. There was a sign posted declaring it a federal offense to enter. They even went the extra mile to pile boulders up in front of the door to prevent people from being able to pry it open. Bummer! Breaking a few rules is one thing but prison is a whole other ball game.
I joked with the kids that Rapunzel was in there waiting on her prince charming. My son said he saw someone in one of the upper windows. Maybe he did. Nothing surprises me.
I was able to snag a snapshot of a buffalo finally and a Longhorn. My old camera’s zoom wasn’t as good to take shots very far away. Take a gander.
During my husband’s visit I was a cooking fool! Be sure to make a trip to my new blog where I share some recipes and food related antidotes. I managed to master his favorite dessert which is pecan pie (pronounced pe-cawn, not pee-can for all you non-New Orleans folks out there).
Sometimes he actually shared with the kids which allowed me to get this gem of a photo.
My husband enjoyed being the grill master again. I did too since I hadn’t had a good steak since he left in September. I know, sniffle, sad isn’t it?
He was also home just in time to see the beginnings of springtime in our gardens. There were some blooms already taking place.
The children were extremely entertaining as you can see. They were very excited to have dad home.
We even went bowling and I have to tell you. The Wii makes it seem much easier than it is. Even though none of us will be bowling a 300 anytime soon, we did have fun.
My daughter lost one of her first front teeth while her dad was here.
Kids look so goofy in an adorable sort of way when they are missing teeth. Adults on the other hand look scary. Like this guy…
I really enjoyed the visit with my husband and I am looking forward to the next visit. In the meantime, I have to readjust to him being gone all over again. Ambien would be nice right about now.
