Work has been rough lately, and not just the usual kind of rough. They said we’ve got enough carry-over funding to make it through the end of October, and then after that, we’re basically expected to keep showing up and working without pay until Congress gets its act together. We’ll supposedly get back pay “eventually,” but who even knows how that works when the guidance says only ten percent of the workforce is supposed to keep working during a shutdown.
I’ll be fine for a few months if it comes to that, but let’s be real, I don’t want to drag myself out of bed every morning for a job that might pay me “someday.” It’s hard to stay motivated when the air is so heavy with uncertainty. Everyone’s frustrated, but no one really wants to talk about it. I keep trying not to think too much about it because if I let myself dwell on it, the anxiety hits so hard it’s all I can feel. I’m doing what I have to do, but I’m not going above and beyond right now. The morale is already low enough without me working myself into the ground.
On top of that, I found out HMF has been diagnosed with breast cancer. She had her biopsy the day before I saw her, so she’s still waiting to find out what the treatment plan will look like. That one hit hard. Dennis’s mom is doing better, but she’s still wearing a patch over her left eye. I went grocery shopping for her a couple weekends ago, and honestly, I don’t think she’s been leaving the house except for doctor appointments.
This weekend is shaping up to be... something. Dennis’s oldest sister is coming into town for her class reunion, and his brother’s coming too. It drives me nuts that she can make it for a reunion but didn’t show up when their dad was in the hospital or even for his last Christmas. She managed to make it for the memorial service though, so there’s that. Maybe it’s just me, but I think being there while someone’s alive means more than showing up for the service after they’re gone. And don’t even get me started on the brother. I lost all respect for him over twenty years ago when their dad had his subdural hematoma. He had plenty of frequent flyer miles, didn’t have a job, but said his toddler had a cold, so he couldn’t come. I would’ve walked from Ohio if I’d had to.
Dennis said they’re wanting to do some kind of “family meeting” while everyone’s in town, but he has zero interest. I don’t blame him. He tried to do that right after his dad died so they could go over the will, but that turned into a disaster. He was the executor and just wanted to follow his dad’s wishes, but the rest of them wanted to argue about everything. Now, when it’s too late to change anything, they suddenly want to meet? I’m sure it’s about their mom’s health, but who knows. Either way, I won’t be around. I’ve got tickets to a comedy show with my sister that night. Perfect timing.
Last week was Outsiders week, and honestly, it was the bright spot I desperately needed. The show opened Tuesday even though the official opening was Wednesday, and I managed to snag front-row pit tickets during presale when I was in North Carolina. I got them as a birthday gift for HMF. We were so excited, it felt like being kids again. We did our usual pre-show ritual: hit happy hour across the street, demolished some chicken fajita nachos and fries (seriously the best fries ever), and soaked up the buzz.
The show was absolutely spectacular. The touring cast is so young, which makes the story hit differently. Honestly, I think I liked it better than the Broadway version, except for the guy who played Dally in New York because good grief, that man was unfairly good-looking, and he was in his thirties, so I don’t even feel bad saying that. The special effects were just like Broadway too, rubber gravel, fake blood, and rain. We got pelted with gravel but thankfully didn’t get soaked.
And then, during the last song, the actor who plays Ponyboy gave a signed copy of The Outsiders to someone in the audience, and that someone was me. Me! I felt like a total teenage fangirl. HMF and I had joked before that if they gave one out, we’d give it to a kid, but when I told her I might give it to the fifteen-year-old girl sitting next to us, she looked me dead in the eye and said, “Don’t you dare.”
The next night, my sister had tickets for the official opening, so I met up with her and her friends for dinner before the show. They had a red-carpet event since it was the official North American kickoff, and I tried to stay out of sight because the teenage actor playing Ponyboy was there, and I didn’t want him to think I was stalking him after being front row the night before.
I took Dennis on Saturday, and he actually liked it more than he expected to. He’s even brought it up a few times since, which for him means he really liked it. On Sunday we went again, our first show in our new regular season seats, and we picked great ones.
That night was the Stay Gold Gala for the Outsiders House Museum. I wore a dress that was so tight I hadn’t eaten all day, so I was thrilled when I saw the amount of food they had. Pretty sure it saved me from passing out from hunger and shapewear compression. We got there early enough to do photos and meet people without waiting in line. HMF talked me into bringing the signed book to try to get a few more autographs. I’m not big on autographs, but I was hoping S. E. Hinton would sign it. She didn’t, but that’s okay. I did get a few of the cast members, including two of the three Curtis brothers. Ponyboy was on vocal rest, so he typed what he wanted to say on his phone. HMF told him he should learn sign language, and it turns out the actor who plays Soda’s mom is a speech pathologist. They’d even had silent dinners where they only used sign language. It was one of those random, funny conversations that sticks with you.
I told them about how when HMF gets overly pissed the sign language comes out, that we went to Silver Dollar City after a half marathon, completely unaware it was middle school choir day. It was pure chaos, screaming kids everywhere, lines a mile long, and zero personal space. At one point, a group of middle school boys started pushing and crowding us in line, and HMF absolutely went off, both verbally and in sign language, telling them to back off. She had those kids stepping back like they’d just seen their lives flash before their eyes. When I mentioned Silver Dollar City little Ponyboy’s whole face lit up. He started gesturing like crazy about how much he loves that place and gave me this half-giddy fist bump that made me laugh out loud. HMF said it couldn’t have been his class because he was probably a toddler.
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| HMF and me with the Curtis Bros |
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| Pony Boy |
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| The motorcycle cop from the movie |
Jamestown Revival played a few songs, including two from the show and of course “Stay Gold.” Their harmonies are unreal. I ended the night by winning a silent auction for an original movie poster with the Robert Frost poem written by C. Thomas Howell. I even met the guy who played the motorcycle cop in the movie and ended up chatting with him for a long time. It was such a good night.
Monday was a holiday, and I’d planned to get my nails done, but my friend was sick, so instead I made a rash decision and went to a tattoo shop. I got something small to commemorate the whole experience.
And now I’m back in my pit of despair. Reality hit hard after such a great week. But even with all the mess swirling around right now, I’m hanging on to that little burst of joy because it reminded me what it feels like to actually be happy again, and that counts for something.
