Well, it is now Friday evening and we have no notice of I600 approval, so obviously that isn’t going to happen before the first of the year. I mean, sure, it could happen between Christmas and New Year’s Day, but does anyone actually think it will? Not me. I wish I could be more of an optimist, but I’m not. My best friend and I (does that make me sound like I’m still in seventh grade? oh well) were talking about this fact the other day, actually. Neither one of us are happy fun camp optimist type of people, and we often wonder if that is something we need to work on or if it is okay to just be painfully practical. One of the biggest questions I have had for years, as far as my own personal goals go, is how to be more optimistic with out being delusional, at worst, or continually disappointed, at best.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m not disappointed that we have gotten our I600 approval, it’s just that I’m not surprised. That takes some bitterness out of the disappointment. *Sigh*
Now for a little George update. Someone suggested I do a George update a while back and I thought, “I should do a George update. Wish I had something to tell them.”
I’m just no closer to finding George now than I ever was. His last name might as well be Smith. It isn’t, but close enough, which doesn’t make things easier. Honestly, people searching is not my forte, so I really don’t know where else to look other than the places I have looked: MySpace (scare me!), Classmates.com, and his parents, specifically his father, who wasn’t helpful and then moved. I troll these same places off and on looking for his sister as well. So far, no luck. Maybe one of these days I’ll actually do something with my Cafe Press store (which isn’t even worth linking too at the moment) and use the proceeds to hire a private investigator or something.
George was just really a good friend, and the last time I saw him he was struggling with some very big things. I just want to know that he is okay or, if he isn’t okay, I just want him to know that I still care and I’m still here, and I really wish we’d had the internet back in the early 90s so that we wouldn’t have lost touch to begin with. We all like to know that people still care, right? *Sigh*
Contrary to what this blog post might make you think, however, I have not been sitting around all day heaving disappointed, swooning, Victorian sighs. I have, instead, been baking the Christmas cookies with friends and relatives and many, many children.
So, imagine if you will an warm holiday scene in which my mother, sister-in-law and I are mixing, baking and generally bustling around the kitchen whilst a friend graciously and patiently helps children decorate cookies at the table. Tank boy, meanwhile, is in the adjoining family room with his equally three-year-old (boy) cousin, W~, having a Very Serious Conversation:
“I pooped in my pants,” Tank Boy says.
“Yeah, I pooped in my pants too,” W~ commiserated.
“I had diarrhea,” he elaborated thoughtfully. “Did you have diarrhea?”
“Yeah,” Tank Boy acknowledged with an air of camaraderie, “I had diarrhea, too.”
Cookie baking ceased for a few moments so that we could all laugh, albeit quietly so as not to alert the boys to the fact that we were, yes, laughing at them, and so that I could make the observation that when they are 93 and in a home they will once again be having this exact same conversation with each other.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt has Christmas cookies for you.