1743

Last night Logan and I went to dinner at a restaurant in Milford. Milford is a very small Michigan town but apparently people in small towns like to eat food. Very good food. Joe turns 35 this week and when you're 35 it's time to put a lamp shade on your head and have fun.

There were no lamp shades at our restaurant, only scallops in a balsamic vinaigrette on a bed of green beans and rice simmered in a blue cheese sauce. I love blue cheese as if it's Barack Obama, so my meal was orgasmic.

I discussed yesterday, as I faced getting dressed for our birthday celebration, how I hate my clothes. I hate my clothes. I'm very uncomfortable in my skin and while I'd like to say the issue is as simple as my body. It's not.

But anyway I didn't show up to dinner naked. I wore a shirt which made me want to rip the skin off my face, but you know, at least I was there. Cari, who I mentioned in my last post, was of course wearing a very cute leather jacket. And lovely cowboy styled boots. Oh yes, and also a large belt over her size 0/1 hips, because when your hips don't exist you need a belt to hold your pants on.

A dear friend told me just before we left, as I was debating cancelling all our plans due to my body image, just get there sit your ass down and get a drink. You'll be fine. (IN LIGHT OF JAMES FREY, you should know she didn't say that exactly as I wrote it. She said it in a more polite and, yes, less interesting way. Damn you Smoking Gun.)

And yes, once my middle and losery clothes were mostly hidden by the table I felt comfortable. Comfortable enough to talk to the other couple Joe and Cari invited to dinner. We'd met them once before at a New Year's Eve dinner two years ago but I'd mostly forgotten about things we'd talked about.

I said, 'Oh, do you live in Royal Oak?'

They said, 'We live in Birmingham.'

I said, "Oh! I grew up in Birmingham! What area do you live in?"

They said, "The exact same area you grew up in!"

I said, "What street?"

They said, "Your street!" (They didn't say any of this, I feel I should say in light of the James Frey thing.)

I said, "I lived at 1743."

They said, "We live at 1742."

Which is right across the street and also where the crazy lady of our neighborhood lived. The woman with the Russians in her pipes.

The good news is, I've been trying to peek in the windows of the house I lived in as a child. But people are so paranoid they do not make it easy for you to peek at them.

I told a realtor friend I have to keep my childhood home on their watch list because I want to look through the house when it's up for sale.

The new friends we met last night said I could probably walk through the house when we come to visit them sometime in the summer.

The thing is, seeing the house I grew up in is very important. I always believed the house I grew up in was a good house. I used to have dreams where Logan and I bought that house (though I would never in a million years raise children in Birmingham) and made it into a house where bad things don't happen.

From my brief peeks into the windows from my car, the house is well loved and well appointed. I just need to see it all for myself.

Last night when I told the couple we were out with which house was mine, she said, "You mean the house with the Japanese Maple?"

My parents planted that Japanese Maple the year after I was born and we have a picture (I'd love to show you buy my mother is holding all our family photos hostage) of me as a 3 year old with a small tree coming up to my three year old chin.

Today that tree is almost as tall as the house and it's nice to see something growing out of that house where so many bad things happened.

Update: The restaurant was Gravity. We were guests of Joe, who'd done all the pictures you see on their site.

Comments

[Lisa V]

Wonderful post Melissa. My mom planted a tree in my grandma's yard the year my sister was born. When my grandma died, the woman we sold it to swore we could come visit whenever we wanted. But the most we ever do is drive passed. It's both comforting to see it there still and sad to know we don't live in the house behind it.

[Marnie]

I think everyone loves the house they grew up in. I recently drove past the house where I grew up, and was amazed to see how incredibly SMALL it is. I was describing it as this great place, with huge trees. Funny how much smaller things look after you grow 3 feet. :-)

I hope you get to see it!

[mom on a wire]

Oh my goodness, how sad. I hope your house is happy now.

[Rae]

I frequently dream about a specific house from my childhood. It was bulldozed down a few years ago and I haven't stopped dreaming of it, though I long ago realized that while I lived in it, I was never alive in it; I still want desperately to walk into it, maybe empowered as an adult and stand in it and face the walls and the windows, see who I see and how I stand up.

Yes. Wonderful post, Melissa and I hope you get your peek.

[kelly]

mmmmm, a real walk-through! Another excellent post Melissa.

[Sara]

I'm glad you went out to the party. Never let your wardrobe stand in the way of a nice evening!

My husband grew up in Birmingham. I only saw the house once or twice because his parents split and sold it shortly after we met.

He found the house listed for sale 3 or 4 years ago -- for a kajillion dollars. (no, really. A Kajillion. Dollars). So much for our fantasy of moving back to Michigan and living near where he grew up.

Take advantage and take a peek at your old house when the chance arrives. I want to do that at my Grandmother's old house. The folks who bought it have done a lot of work and I just wonder what it's like now...

[julia]

That last bit is a lovely (not in comparison to the first bit, I just mean ... you know what I mean, right?). That you want to be able to live a good family life in your old house, to repair some of the old, not-so-good things that happened there. I mean, so many people spend their marriages REPEATING the drama they lived, and I guess it's weird for a stranger to say, but I'm so happy for you that you're so aware that you want to purposely do the opposite.

I'm not sure how much I've personally succeeded in doing that – converting feelings about the past to good intentions – but I hope I'm getting better at it.

[Krista]

Don't worry about clarifying things. You are writing a memoir here and memoirs are a "new genre"whose boundaries haven't been defined yet. Also, memoirs are about your subjective memory. You can tell us that you wore that pink bow to the dinner party and as long as the essential truth of the evening is portrayed no one will hold you accountable for lying to millions of people.

[kari]

I have to say this..."Oh yes, and also a large belt over her size 0/1 hips, because when your hips don't exist you need a belt to hold your pants on."...just cracked me up!

I too have that urge. I wonder the house with the beautiful weeping willows in the back yard is still there.

[tex]

Wait a minute...was that crazy lady right across the street Gigi??? I just don't remember the Russians in her pipes...

[PhC]

Damn you for making me cry again.

I always try to remember, when I am feeling my ugliest/ frumpiest, that nobody else cares what I wear. I certainly never care what anyone else is wearing, so I'm sure they don't care about me.

This coming from a woman who threw all her maternity clothes into a pile yesterday because NOTHING LOOKED RIGHT. But still, sage advice.

[tanyetta]

so glad you went to dinner. can't wait to see the photos of your GOR-Juss outfit. :)

[Nothing But Bonfires]

I hope you at least got to say goodbye to your childhood house. One of the worst things is not getting to say a proper goodbye. Even if you're coming back at some point to visit.

[ChristyD]

I hope you get your wish.

[AmyinMotown]

What a great post. My parents split up three and a half years ago and sold the house we'd lived in. My mom (and now my dad, they've reconciled, it's a weird world) live a couple blocks away in the same neighborhood. I still can't stand to drive down that street and see that house. However, a family friend did a drawing of it some years previous and when they split up, my mom had copies made and my dad and hers were both framed. When they got back together, I got one of the framed copies. I put it in my dining room. I guess it's an emblem to me of what my family was, and what we've come through.

[Saartje]

Beautiful entry, Melissa. Entries like this are one of the reasons I read your blog.

[andreainjapan]

And the moral of this story is that "life continues" even when we think there is no way it could.

[maia]

I too would love to go through the house I spent part of my childhood in. How fortunate you are to have had the update on it and the chance to walk through it.

Although you have chastised me before for unwanted 'suggestions' I have to say I feel the exact same way about my body these days. I look in the mirror and go WTF?! and 'when the HELL did I gain THAT?" I am NOT proud of my body these days. My solution? I spend half hour a day being active with the kids (dancing like a madwoman in the basement with the daughters, lifting weights or having them drag me swimming where I tread water, not a swimmer.) I feel better already.
Hoping it burns off the nightly wine anyway ;)

Love your blog, find it rather scary how your life/feelings/thoughts resemble my own and apparently others.

[roo]

Isn't it strange, how events and meetings can align in such a way that it seems like a message from the cosmos?

It sounds like you've found something you were meant to discover, or understand.

That Japanese maple is a powerful image...

[Brian]

Milford rules! Very small? The urban sprawl is a'coming.

[chris]

"it's nice to see something growing out of that house where so many bad things happened"

What a powerful metaphor.

I think you should take a photo of yourself next to the Maple tree and frame it with the one from when you were a child.

You too grew out of that house into something beautiful.

[srah]

What's the restaurant? The green beans sound great.

[Lil' Sis]

I made Chris drive by there just a couple of weeks ago. I think it didn't have the effect on him it has on me. The maple is HUGE! Bonnie would just have a heart attack. She kept it pruned to just dining-room-window height...
If you do get to go through the house ever, you have to bring me. I know that upstairs closet can't possibly be there anymore with all of the house's renovations, but I would love to see it anyway.

Oh, and I will dig through my photos. I know that I don't have the one of you & Bonnie in front of the tree, but I have the one of Bonnie with the globe and machette. This description alone is probably enough to scare most of your readers. Ha!

-Miao.

[DLG in Mich]

Was that awesome-sounding dish eaten at the Five Lakes Grill? I really want to try that place, but haven't been yet.

[Karen]

Oh you MUST be talking about the Five Lakes Grill. My favorite place to eat in all of the universe. I found your journal through a link while bored at work and now I am hungry!! My boyfriend lives in Waterford (I actually live in Toledo, Ohio) and we get there to eat every chance we get.

[Pants]

It was Gravity Bar & Grill.

[Kate]

I can't remember how I discovered your blog but I have been reading and enjoying it for a while. I was interested in it because of the kids issues, but coincidentally, I also grew up in Birmingham (I now live in Milwaukee). I love my old house and often dream about it, probably because when I am having trouble falling asleep, I walk through it in my mind and try to remember all the details. Thanks for an enjoyable read.

[mom on zoloft]

ok, talk to me. I'm new to your blog and first of all you crack me up so I'm in. On a daily basis. Secondly, I'm in the process of weaning off of meds myself and dealing with the weight issues that have come along with the whole deal. I've just gone through the whittling down of my tiny zoloft pill to a quarter dose and have now been z free for 5 days. Glad to know that soemone in the blogosphere can relate.

[HD]

You do always hit home with your posts, don't you? ( Sorry,no pun intended.)My mother lives across the street from our old house (don't ask)so I see it every time I visit. It's been rehabbed and is now the most beautiful one on the block. Quite a change from my growing up years, when the neighbors sent us a note telling us our house was an eyesore. (Yeah, that'll help) Even though my mom is friendly with the owner, I haven't been able to go through it, because I know it's all completely changed. I like to remember it the way it was, eyesore and all! Oh, and Chris's comment from above is just lovely.

[sarah f.o.]

Wonderful blog!

It's almost a comfort to know that:
1. We seem to have the same husband
2. We're both lazy.
3. We both had neighbors with Russians in their pipes.

I've added your blog to my list o' faves.
Cheers!

[sarah]

I love your blog. Why wouldn't you want to raise kids in Birmingham? Seems nice enough to me.