Women and Men

It will be seven years this November that I've lived in Seattle. For as long as I've lived in Seattle I've been in the same bible study. Originally we all lived in West Seattle but over the years we've spread out, one in West Seattle, one on Beacon Hill, one in Green Lake, one in Ballard and one on the east side. Others have moved considerably farther, Missouri, Northern Ireland and Kenya. As people have moved away or moved on from the group new women come in.

We've been holding steady at 6 ladies for a couple of years now and we don't see any change on the horizon. It's so wonderful to have a mix of married and single women, some with kids, some without.

These ladies have seen me at my highest high (hours after giving birth) and at my lowest low (nothing I'm going to broadcast to the world). They were there for me when I was new to Seattle and didn't know a soul except Ryan.

Sometimes I think we should rename our group since we don't study all that much. Two ladies left the bible study because they wanted to be in a bible study that studied the bible. Those of use who are left are OK when we go weeks without studying and choose instead to socialize. Our weekly gathering is a highlight of my week. I think I would explode if I did not see these women on a regular basis to decompress as the volume of unspoken words inside me would build up to a dangerous level.

We all enjoy just sitting around and talking. And talking and talking some more. The husbands do not begrudge us our time with our girls because if we don't have the girls to talk to we turn our need to talk to the men in our lives. We know our husbands love us but we have been married long enough that we know a husband makes a bad girlfriend.

Ryan's sister and family were in town recently. Our niece, who will be 3 in September, unwinds before going to bed by talking to herself. She hashes out the events of the day and all that she learned. It is really amusing to listen to (over the monitor) but I kind of feel like I'm eavesdropping.

The way she talks about all of the events of her day kind of threw Ryan for a loop; he wondered how long she would do that for. I told him that she is a girl and the only thing that will change is that she will probably stop saying everything out loud. I don't think he believes me that the woman's brain doesn't have an off switch.

I'll never forget a conversation we had on a trip to or from Vancouver several years ago. It was in his old white Honda Civic so it has been at least 3 years. I think we were in a no-mans' land as far as the radio was concerned, that or only country music came in and I was all out of talk so I turned to Ryan and said, "Penny for your thoughts."

Ryan: "Hmph? Uh, nothin'."
Me: "Penny for your thoughts. Whatcha thinkin'?"
Ryan: "Nothin'"
Me: "C'mon. What are you thinking?"
Ryan: "Nothing."
Me: "You can't not be thinking."
Ryan: "Yep, I can."
Me. "It can't be a blank canvas up there!"
Ryan: "Yep. It can."
Me: "No! You can just be and not have a thought?"
Ryan: "What, you can't?"
Me: "No. It's like a ticker tape up there. Non stop."

We caught a brief glimpse in the brain of the opposite sex.

Here is how I view Ryan's brain: Picture a vast room lined with rows of filing cabinets. All of the filing cabinets are arranged by subject and within each subject they are arranged alphabetically. The math, physical science and music sections are packed pretty densely with filing cabinets. Every drawer of every cabinet is shut and only opens when information within is needed.

April's brain:

The room is still vast and there are filing cabinets. That is where the similarities end. Drawers on the cabinets pop open at random times and files are frequently misfiled; the cabinets are not neatly arranged by subject but are scattered about, there may be a science cabinet next to a language cabinet. Next to each cabinet is a scents cabinet. Science (Anatomy and Physiology t be specific) has a cabinet next to it that has all sorts of fun scents like formaldehyde, death and ham preservatives. The ham preservatives is a fun story I should share some time. If you aren't a vegetarian before I tell the story you may be afterwards. I was off ham lunch meat for a long time.

I'm too tired to continue. I think the whole reason I started this post was to relay one funny little story. So I'll tell my funny little story then go to bed on the tiny slice of bed that Gavin has left for me.

Last week I got my girlfriends to take me out of the house for our weekly meeting. Any chance I have to get out of the house I jump at since I'm house bound right now. We went to Cupcake Royale in West Seattle. After finding close street parking we walked/crutched to the store only to find out they were closing in 10 minutes. Lame. Right before we got there Heidi called Heather to tell her that we were not meeting at my house like originally planned but at Cupcake Royale so she called Heather again to tell her we were moving to a new locale.

Next stop: Matador. They have super yummy steak nachos. I was looking forward to some delicious Mexican food. We sit down, eat some chips and order our drinks. One margarita and two waters. The waitress needs to see every one's id since we were in a bar. No problem.

Wait, problem.

I searched my purse section by section. Then I emptied my purse section by section. No id. My friend who ordered the margarita saw my insurance card and said, "This has her birthday and this (holding up my Costco card) has her picture?" It was a nice try. But it didn't work. We got the boot.

It has been a long, long time since I was kicked out of a bar.

As much as it sucked being kicked out it was still kind of flattering. I know I don't look 21 but still...

Heidi called Heather again and we went across the street to another establishment that shall remain nameless because they didn't ask for id when drinks of an adult nature were ordered. I even tried Krissy' Belgian type beer that she was sampling - woo, was it ever sweet. Not my cup of barley. Or malts. Or hops... whatever.

By the way, I found my driver's license. It was in the coat I took with me to the hospital the day I had surgery.