Present

Some evenings you drink a bottle of wine with friends over your organic Sonoma grown dinner and stumble to the train shopping bags in hand: Other days you lunch on sugar free redbull in front of your laptop between meetings. That is being present.

Last week a friend found me my dream job. In an act of serendipity I am both affiliated with the alma mater of the search committee head and their dissertation chair. It was like love at first sight and it left me with not one clue as to how to approach it. After receiving other job leads and realizing I had found what I was looking for, I went public. If it sounds crazy, I know, I am living it. Believe me these last three years have been funded by someone who wants to have a say in what job I take...and having met my family understands why geography is so important.

It may change. I may decide to take that Fulbright, NASA, or post-doc opportunity, but presently my feet are firmly grounded and that alone is a minor milagro.

The taxi is on its way, the fellow doc student meeting me to commiserate at the newest gem in foodie culture and you know- my present, couldn't get better.

"Si hablamos de aller es tanto lo que he vivido y sigo teniendo sed, al menos tu lo sabias, al menos no te decia, que las cosas no eran como parecian..." Alejandro Sanz

Love Letters at 1AM

They say it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. In many ways I can say it works, if you live in a bubble. While I am blessed to finally have befriended the writing process, it is my heart that is challenging me. Funny how I fear it more than my editors, it used to be the other way around.

Despite my academic training; the inspiration, the strength, the love it takes to create, comes from my heart. Although I am comfortable with the amount of energy and discipline I need to devout to get through this dissertation stage, ignoring the lives around me was not included. In my bubble I would still have my loved ones present.

My heart is working hard, picking up the slack for my lack of time it seems. I am aware of it more often than before. It aches terribly for my padrino's illness. It remembers the comfort of my parents home. It reflects on the life I left three years ago and is aware some things have changed.

If it is possible for ones heart to grow then I know through the kindness of others mine is swelling. Live, love, dream, for many years I signed my journals that way. It seems so simple now, reach into your heart to create.

"A la primera persona que me ayuda comprender, pienso entregarle mi tiempo, pienso entregarle mi fe. Yo no pido que las cosas me salgan siempre bien, pero es que ya estoy arto de perderte sin querer..." Alejandro Sanz

Las Mami's

Le llame a mi papa y me contesto que estaban en la casa de mis padrinos. Le paso el telefono rapidamente a mi mama, diciendo me primero, "I love you Barbie," yo tambien papi.

Mi mama me preguntaba de mi dia, y me dijo, "mija usa mi tarjeta si quieres para comprar tu boleto. Tu prima te recoje o tomas un taxi del aeropuerto." Esta bien, puedo venir este fin de semana, "no el 7, compra tu boleto,"si mami.

She said they were watching Monday night football. I could hear the kids running in and out of the room, imagined the scent of the food on the stove, and the table, never an empty plate. The tv on in the living room, the phone ringing, but at other times the buzz of the computer and the radio from other rooms all at once. That's how it is, always when mi familia gets together to compartir. En este dia, la bienvenida de mi padrino.

Como queria estar alli. Sentada en el sofa, o en la mesa de la cocina, viendo como mi mami, madrina, y ahorra prima se movian por la casa, asegurando que nadien se quedara con hambre , o sed. Escuchando los chismes y chistes, hablando entre nos y francamente. I told my prima, I wish I was there, "you will be, you will be here soon." Suddenly I heard her. A familiar voice that I recognized only from the warm tone I had grown up hearing from our own mamis, she was strong. Hundreds of miles away I felt comforted and knew, when I got there it would be different but exactly as I remembered. I knew also that one day we would become our mamis, the center of our own families that lend strength to each others.

What Goes Around...

Tu sabes, karma.

Finally made my way down the hill to Amoeba for the Justin Timberlake CD, FUTURESEX/LOVESOUNDS.

His music is astoundingly contagious: A month ago I downloaded my first ringtone, Sexy Back. What can I say but he does fuse sounds nicely and he is way out of my purchasing comfort zone. Sometimes you just can't fight it.

Proved to be the perfect soundtrack for this evenings work. Created yet another google freeware spreadsheet, for the 800k grant I am learning to administer and evaluate.

My new favorite track? WHAT GOES AROUND...COMES AROUND, poetic.

Don't want to think about it
Don't want to talk about it
I'm just so sick about it
Can't believe it's ending this way
Just so confused about it
Feeling the blues about it
I just can't do without ya
Tell me is this fair?
Is this the way it's really going down?
Is this how we say goodbye?
Should've known better when you came around
That you were gonna make me cry
It's breaking my heart to watch you run around'
Cause I know that you're living a lie
That's okay baby 'cause in time you will find...
What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around
What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around...

Para Mi Padrino

Mi Padrino

Would bring home cabezas de cabrita
and cervesa for breakfast
serve me up a taco de cachete
dare his sons to eat an eyeball

His has been my second home

We spent New Years,
Thankstakings, just
threw good old pachangas
like back in Aguascalientes

We danced at my Quinceanera

He always called me his morenita
or negrita, his own children the
color of milk, like my Madrina

He is my superhero

Bigger than life to me
a man of few but powerful words
tall, strong, with a full head of dark
curly hair

A wonderful father

Cried at his daughters
weddings & quinceaneras
that is macho too

Loves his family

I have been back to visit him
twice this year
each time he emerged from
his rest to greet me

"Que gusto verte"

Never complained when the
four primas were getting too loud
y borrachas, smiled instead

Full of pride for the beauty before him

Said we should
enjoy each other
"Asi me gusta verlas"

Together

I will be home soon.

MTV tr3s

City 1 Writing 0.

My friend already attempted an intervention when I threatened to crawl back into bed- a pot of dark coffee, gracias. Now I am awake and since I couldn't find the Caliente music show I used to love to watch on Saturdays, quickly growing addicted to MTV tr3s.

Maybe I caught a 24hr distraction bug...

• Had to celebrate my friends escrow on the bar! I have been enlisted to guest bartend- I think I am better at this than cooking either way; campechanos, cuba libres, micheladas and straight tequila is all I am pouring.
• The girls thought it would be a good night to put the boys on hold. The Steps of Rome were calling. Where else can you get a taste of Roma at 3am?
• Never did make it to Berlin and currently really low on the destination list. The Lovefest is in the city and I love, love.
• Did I mention I am invited to the Bloomies grand opening and had to research the catalogue?

To the Aimee with an e, we befriended at the club: A beautiful, graceful, and brave woman- starting chemo today. As my friend said to her, "kick breast cancers ass!" I knew my distractions served a purpose, we hope to see her back on the dance floor soon.

Last Day of Summer

A beautiful and sunny Friday morning didn't even need a sweater to head to the mercado. When I returned the housekeeper said ''te ves muy contenta." I paused to think and smiled because it's true- gracias, estoy.

Looking forward to sitting down to write-- really, it is almost like a new friend, we just pick up where we left off. My dissertation advisor commented on the timeline, just eight more months to go. Then of course followed a deadline that before now I may have thought impossible, "I need to see your writing by..." If only blogging counted.

I try to explain to my friends my life is on a two week cycle, of deadlines.

• In kind some hold the line, "I am coming to campus to meet with my advisor, do you want to meet for coffee to talk about our dis..." her parents already purchased their international airfare to attend her graduation.
• Others, try as hard as I do to keep the distractions at bay, "Mujer, I need to write, I have to have 15 more pages by..." and the mojitos we are drinking soothe our reality.
• Between very serious planning to travel to a conference together we drink bottled water and talk also about her experiences as a first year doc student. We agree to stay only part time at the main hotel and the rest at the W. Then we move on to a bottle of wine, it just can't be all work all the time.

I admit though, that when I am away from my writing, I miss it. It calls me, I grow less interested in other things, "Like what?" they reply...You know, food, and we laugh because it could be far worse.

DEEP

LOVE.

Form Letter

Hi (insert name here),

Greetings from Frisco where I have relocated for a doctoral program...It seems EX and I are arguing over your feelings. So being the behavioralist and all I thought I would just go straight to the source.

So tell me, since EX and I have not been able to reach a consensus-if I was in town for the (insert month here) 12th gig would that ruin your night terribly?

He and I have been friends for many years now, no need to rehash the whole history as I am sure you know most of it...but up until this point we have maintained and adjusted our friendship to meet the space and time we had. It seems like such a shame to let (something/someone) so simple come between our friendship.

Regards, L
p.s. EX had mentioned your websight previously, and until now I had no true reason to visit it- interesting concept.

The Candle

We left campus to visit the independent bookstore, on the way she told me about her brother, it had been almost a month. "He received a text message to come outside and as he was walking he saw a car creeping up towards his friend." He called out for his friend to run and the semiautomatic was directed at him.

I said I wanted to go to the funeral but was not able to get in touch for the information from her or her family. "You wanna go to his memorial? They made a wall for him." Yes, when do you want to go? "Let's go to the bookstore then, starbucks then to see it." Can we eat lunch too I asked, "Okay."

"They shot two of his fingers off, the back of his legs and his organs." I said he warned his friend and took the bullets. "Thirty bullets. He crawled across the street, trying to make it home but only got as far as the church."

We arrived at the bookstore and she went for contemporary fiction while I went for education. "You are so boring, why are you looking at those books," I laughed and started to say I am not...okay just a little boring.

We picked out an inspirational quote for her mom too, 'Lift your spirit up and your body will follow.' And debated over where to eat. At 15 she said she only ate at places she knew. Then how will you ever try new things I asked. She told me about her neighborhood, "This is where i get my nails done, this is the dollar store can we go in?" She bought herself a carmex. I saw a virgencita votive and asked if I could bring it to the memorial. She picked one out to bring too. We walked, "they have the best bar-b-q here, oh- see that guy his girlfriend burned him..."

She showed me where it happened, where it started, how he ran and where it ended. We placed our candles below the wooden slats that held messages, told me her mom cries often, his friends come over to spend time in his room, the ministers daughter he was dating has not been able to visit with them yet but her family has. "Sometimes we are home and hear him moving through the house." I know he does, I smiled, he just wants you to know he is okay.

Legally Brunette

I sat across from the assistant dean and listened to him without a reaction and patiently asked him to repeat himself again and again, writing it down each time. Yes, I prepared with the precise makeup, hair and outfit. Armed my phone with an image of my virgencity, I knew I was entering modern day battle in academia.

"For the fourth time...you are wasting your time, are you not understanding what I am saying?" To which I appropriately offered, "Maybe it is because I was an English Language Learner, but no, I don't understand what you are saying. Perhaps you can say it differently?" He raised his arms above his head and I was sure to zoom in on the perspiration rings that were pools under his arms- just long enough to make him uncomfortable, and smiled.

It was the 'no' answer I was not going to accept and only had a few hours on Friday to get him to agree to my conditions. I let him know, " I am positive we will come to an understanding that is mutually acceptable- you are here til 5:3o so we have 3hours to do it."

I did it in two hours. My basic presence was so disruptive to his bureaucratic bullshit that he had to acquiesce, just to get me out of his office. Everyone said it couldn't get done. I have never known a failure my will could not overcome.

From that point forward the next 48 hours celebrated with me. My community unkowingly alleviated and nurtured my resilience. From SF to LA I know I never go into battle alone. I have the love and support of my family and friends. Sin ustedes nada valiera la pena, gracias.

Friday Love 1

Woke up in time to move my car and avoid the street cleaning ticket, the virgencita votive is still burning, feeling good about my afternoon deadline.

A life this good could be fiction...

"Hey how was your trip..." the SF party boy
"What u doing tonite?..." the SF party girl
"Happy friday Lo, luv..." un muchacho
"Happy Friday from Vegas..." the fellow doc student
"Baby Lorenzo's here: born @ 5am..." the amigaza
"Just arrivd ready 4 the sun! Stayn @..." the amigaza
"Muchas gracias amor..." the tia in SD
"Feliz viernes!..." mi papi

Love.

Tijuana

There are songs and then there are songs that take you back.

Leaving the university this afternoon after two meetings my mind was reeling with what I would do first. Scholarly activities related more to mentoring, write, or my to do list, first.

• Note to self drop dress at dry cleaners, fit in nail appointment, update the calendar to reflect; the art show opening- scratch that it conflicts with dinner with the out of town guests, visit the new baby, note lunch with the grant guru at the end of the month...

Then I heard Red Red Wine on the radio: It was my favorite song one summer I spent in Tijuana.

That summer, I was practicing the vals for the big quinceanera of the year...we met once a week, and although I was too young to be paired up with anyone cute, mad crushes abounded.

The dresses were hot pink taffeta, and along with the vals practice there were almost weekly fittings, voting on the shoes, the jewelry, the hairpiece and the flowers. No one minded the weekly dance classes, there was always good food and a boy for every girl to dance with- 30 of us in all or 15 couples.

After practice, we would eat and drink and listen to music in the big outdoor courtyard. It was a perfect summer. The Quinceanera was in July, the party was in a large hall, with a sit down dinner, and a live band with a DJ between sets. It was captured in photos, but I had forgotten how vivid it still was in my own mind.

It was a pleasant surprise to think back to those languid summer afternoons. My family still celebrates Quinceaneras, but I missed the last one a year ago due to school. I recently heard one of my primitas is taking hers back to Tijuana next year too. I hope they play UB40.

Hyphy

All the radio stations on my preset dials regardless of format, started the day showing some love for the Bay areas own Tupac Amaru Shakur. This reminded me to call mi querida amiga and Tupac fan, to wish her a happy 33rd birthday. I start everyday hopeful, but somedays cooperate better than others...

• At work a woman walked into the building took a backpack and sauntered out. She was followed, and was caught. The backpack was retrieved her bag was emptied, full of syringes and an envelope of white powder.
• A client made repeated threats and was suspended from program for 2 days. Another could not be found at the end of the school day.
• Instead of writing when I got home I poured a glass of red and took a nap. When I first started in the field 10 years ago everyday was emotionally charged and draining- naps were more frequent.

Precisly when I was trying to nap the text and phone blew up. I am a lucky girl; Call 1 & 2" I finally have time to call and you don't answer..." Text 1 "Sorry to bother you but did you talk to..." Text 2 "Imitation is a form of flattery..." Call 3 " Hey, I can take you to the airport on Sunday..." Text 3 "Hope you are having a wonderfull week..."

Balance is key.

In The Depths of Solitude by Tupac
A young heart with an old soul How can there be peace? How can I be in the depths of solitude When there are two inside of me? This duo in me causes the perfect opportunity To learn and live twice as fast As those who accept simplicity...

10

I was driving down the hill that faces the bay on the way to work as the sun was rising. No fog, no smog, just the sun rising and the clear blue water ahead, as I drove past the Victorians.

No doubt it was going to be a beautiful day as the summer in the city is just starting and will go until mid October. The best months to visit really are September and October, it is a little known secret.

I took my laptop to work thinking I might squeeze some writing in on my downtime. I was working in the behavior intervention office today and thought, the students might not be referred out of class. I was right. Although I didn't write, I spent the time working on orientation with a new client. She was 10.

I can still remember when I was 10, reading all the books I could in exchange for the gold star incentive Mrs. Haney had created. I still have the cards with the stars across the top and all the names of the books I read. I even remember celebrating my 10th birthday with dinner at Lawrys Prime Rib and going to the Beatlemania show. And the parent teacher conference where my teacher told my parents, "She is just not working up to her potential."

So I worked with her all morning. All my client wanted to do just once is slide down the shiny hall in her black pants. When I objected mentioning she would get dirty she replied, " I don't mind, I'm a tomboy mam." I laughed and tried to find another reason why it was not a good idea and she dismissed it saying, "My mom doesn't mind, I'm not girlie like you." I smiled and felt myself caving, well let's see how we do with orientation, maybe on your way to lunch. "Yes mam. You know my mom says I am to say that, but you don't seem very old."

She was as tall as me and gave me a handful of colored rubberbands so I could braid my hair like hers. " The matrix, did you see that movie?" Yes, I did, recalling the last one I went to four years ago at the Man Chinese Theater on opening night. "It is like the matrix, when they do all those moves, in slow motion, just look at that hall."

Okay. Once, just once and then you better dust your pants off, "deal," she replied. We made sure the hallway was clear and I nodded and smiled for her to go for it. I caught up with her at the end of the hall and handed her the lunch bag. "That was soo much fun!"

I was walking her to lunch and she asked, "will you have lunch with me in the lunchroom? I don't know anyone yet." Okay, I replied, I will introduce you to some of your classmates.

After lunch I said goodbye and wished her a good day explaining that I would be leaving campus, "Okay, thank you for spending time with me today," and she caught me off gaurd with a hug. I should have corrected her regarding personal space, but maybe clinical distance isnt always as clear cut as it seems. I smiled and waved goodbye, before stepping out into the bright city sun.

Red Eye

I did not think twice about traveling via red eye today.

Everything about traveling with America West was pleasant. From the abundant ticketless kiosks, to the streamlined baggage check, and even security was hassle free.

After four years of consistent flying I travel in security friendly clothing most of the time, to expedite the process. I remove my jewelery, place my shoes, purse and extra layer in the bin and smile as I walk through.

It wasn't until the pilot greeted each of us as we entered his plane, I saw a flight attendant in what seemed to me an oddly patriotic tie, and the onboard video screens oozed soothing music and images that I realized what today is.

It was the most convenient flight back to town: Las Vegas is a very difficult city to leave. Yes, I am wide awake at 3am but that never stopped Michael Ventura from writing.

At landing I thought back to the day and smiled. Un cafecito con mi mami y tia, taking in the sun, family dinner, and enjoying the view while catching up with a good friend.

There is nothing like spending time with loved ones and telling them you love them.

In a few hours I will start to tackle this weeks scholarly deadlines- I think, my 48 hour respite will more than fuel it. Buenas noches.

iFelicidades Papi!

This is my Papi's birthday week. Although I will get to see him and celebrate with him this weekend, I wish I didn't have to wait until then...

When I was in kindergarten my Papi worked the late shift till 2am opposite of my Mom. In the morning, he would always wake up complaining that the music was too loud. I pretended not to hear him and danced around the living room in my brown plaid uniform to my favorite record- "We will rock you," by Queen. He would turn the music down slighty, probably more for the neighbors and make me breakfast. It was always pan tostado and a licuado.

In elementary school he would even help me with making the perfect part for my ponytails or pigtails. After my eyes were sufficiently slanted from the ponytail(s), it was time for my pan y licuado. When I was old enough to comb my own hair he still made me licuados, my favorite was when I got to take them to go.

In high school I woke him every morning to say goodbye and truthfully about three other times to ask him which outfit he thought worked best. By college he complained about my tacones and music being too noisy in the morning... Admitted when I left that he missed the noise; of my too loud radio, tacones on wood, and the opening and closing of his bedroom door to say "buenos dias," "yes, I know I am running late, " and I love you."

When I would stay up writing papers, or studying like tonight he would check on my progress. When I would skip work or school- writing papers, or studying he would disapprove.

I recently started to make licuados, even bought choco mil. When I told him he laughed and finally told me some of the secret combinations and ingredients he used to make. I think I am actually getting pretty good at them.

I feel so blessed, to be the daughter, of such a noble man.

Feeling Cha-Cha

My British stylist doesn't even know what a Cha-Cha is, but man does he know hair.

Three years after we first met, he finally understands the nuances of me and my hair. When I sat down today he said, 'are we doing the same thing?' Yes I smiled, big sexy hair.

Just wanted to operationalize some terminology, because it seems no matter who the stylist is- they get it. Don't ask me what they conjure up when they hear 'big sexy hair,' but it is friend tested and approved. That phrase universally means serious Cha-Cha hair.

Besides my anti-frumpy campaign, today I found out...

• I was accepted to present at a national conference.
• The Chicana professor I had been hoping would join my dissertation committee, did.
• That the city is like Pandora's box, open it a little and beware: Lesson from last night!
• That posting up multiple copies of 'My Dissertation Time,' calendars printed on green paper and created in google freeware do help.
• That it is going to be a long 72hours if I am going to make the deadline set by Dissertation Calculator for this week, a very cool tool- look it up online if you need one!

So here I am with my Cha-Cha hair staring at the green calendar in front of me. At another point in my life I would have considered it a waste, of a very good hair day.

Lolita

When my Bisabuelita Lolita would make frijoles de la olla first thing in the morning the smell would fill her home. It was best under the thick wool blankets to wait until the sweet smell of tortillas de harina melded in. Just stepping into the kitchen she would por avena into a thick ceramic mug before handing it to you, my favorite was always painted colbolt blue and brown.

At the table she would pour the frijolitos into a bowl or plate and make you a scrambled egg. Gracefully and effortlessly she greeted you and prepared the chile for the day, kept the comal hot, careful not to burn the tortilla she had just hand rolled. In her kitchen there were rituals like these for every meal of the day.

Today I wanted to make frijoles de la olla. Although I have attempted them before never have they been precisely as my Bisabuela, Abuelita, or Mami make. I called home and spoke to my Papi, he said the ratio was not 2 x 1 as I thought, "No Barbie, it is 6 x 1 mija," are you sure I asked. "Yes, the beans expand and absorb the water, add a garlic clove, onion, and don't forget the salt."

Bueno, que tan dificil puede ser, I thought. Cleaned the beans, measured the water...it was smelling good, I was feeling good, thinking dios mio I might be ready to move onto the tortilla making soon- I already have a comal. This weekend I was able to make the avena so I thought add the frijoles and I just have to learn to make the tortillas!

Before I knew it I was working on my ad hoc reviewer application for a professional journal and hungry. I went to the kitchen and my dear frijolitos were without their essential broth. The water had completely evaporated, and that frijole mush pictured above is what I ended up with.

It seems emulating my families traditions is almost more difficult than this scholarly stuff. As to what I did with my bowl of love? Turned the comal on put a pre made flour tortilla on it, got out the best foods and put a spoonfull of it on the tortilla, added my frijole mush, and queso fresco- yummm.

Dissertation vs. The City

"Let past lapses of failure go, and focus on what you can do today and tomorrow to reach your goals," likely that will be my mantra for tomorrow. Taken from a very helpful link http://www.grad.ubc.ca/gradpd/helpfullinks/success.html

It has been a great weekend for my scholarly work. I literally have made more progress this weekend than I did all of August. Did I mention I had the whole month of August off?

Tonight however the following are competing with my writing:

• I am more preoccupied with reorganizing my purses (and I have more than a few)
• Thinking about what to bring to the bar-b-q tomorrow afternoon and if I should object to the Patron Silver Margarita and just drink it straight (my papi taught me well)
• Maybe make the nopal salsa for the bar-b-q (no it is not a carne asada)
• Reach out and text/call/walk to a friend and enjoy the city (so many DJs so little time)
• Make a packing list for my next two weekend trips to Las Vegas and LA

Yes tonight it feels like me against the music, Frisco is soo good for that. I suppose I will treat it like any other craving- delay response and see if it goes away. Maybe if I watch some Current or Entourage I will satisfy my current distraction...

Dissertation Nepantla and Beyond

Nepantla is a Nahuatl term that describes an in between and unknown space of time and change: To me that sound a lot like the Dissertation.

For a more thorough explanation of Nepantla, I suggest the work of the late Chicana scholar Gloria Anzaldua. Needless to say, when I came across Nepantla written in a proposal review this afternoon, it was akin to a gust of fresh air or a cool glass of water...I got it, I understood, others reading may not, but it spoke to me in a profound way. Although I have not compromised my identity for academia it is resilience that is required to get through.

Over the course of my doctoral program I have written and presented at countless conferences. Never, had I volunteered to review. So, it felt odd not knowing if I was reviewing the work of a doctoral student or well known scholar. Either way the same thing that worked for one good proposal applied to them all.

Conference Proposal Writing Tips:
Do follow all proposal application directions
Do clearly label the sections of the proposal
Do use the appropriate style guide
Do include a citation section as current as possible
Do select the most effective presentation format

Because I had written proposals previously I was familiar with the format. Nonetheless it was still difficult to reject a proposal. The one I did reject had a good topic but almost too difficult to focus on and did not adhere to the proposal writing tips I mentioned above.

257 days of Nepantla to go...

The Long Weekend...

In the 1990's the long weekend meant getting in the car with my girlfriends and heading out of town. We would venture out of Los Angeles to Las Vegas, Ensenada, Rosarito, or to camp at the beach...no work or school on Monday meant everything. It was always a hot traffic ridden Friday commute out of town. We kept the windows down because gas was like $1.50 and turned the weekend kickoff mix on real loud. It was a ritual to be on the road by the time the mix with our favorite DJ's went on.

Funny how things change, since every weekend this year will be a long weekend as I carve out time to write my dissertation.

If we did stay in LA we found our way to a bar-b-q, a house party, onto the list of a club, and or a day at the beach. Since it was before blogs, IM, the text message, we would make fliers with the information for the weekend with our signature "Club Junkie Production."

The girls are all still in LA. Although we are not away this weekend, the truth is we are still close. The 8 of us have been together for the college graduations, 6 weddings, subsequent pregnancies, and housewarmings. This year a baby boy will be born, a baby will turn 1, a one year wedding anniversary will be celebrated: I am betting there will also be an engagement and a dissertation will be written.