I posted the first part of this on my Myspace blog, but because my children read things over there, they don't get the entire story... LOL.

So, here it is... the complete unedited version... mwwwahhhhhhh!!!!!

It was just another Friday night in the Jordan-Scott household. What made it a unique Friday night was the fact none of us have theatre performances to attend to so we were all pretty darn excited about the prospect at hand, especially since it was also homecoming for EBHS.

First we had to get Katherine from BCT where she is AD for "Sideways Stories with my friend, Kevin Lively.  Adam Jackson ran up to me, wanting to see the ghost picture. I want to see it, too, so I inform both he and his Mom that I will upload it as soon as I see it.

Yes, I know. I am now posing with Ghosts. I didn't mean to, he just likes to let me know he is around so I don't get lonely. I am used to it by now, but this is the first time he actually has shown up on film with me in... well, almost two years.

Back to football.

One little known fact about me is I love high school football. I mean, LOVE IT.  I even went to all the games at my California Alma Matre, Dana Hills High School, where our Surfing team was SOOOOO much better than our Football players. I went though. Usually made it through half time, too.

Plus Katherine wanted me there. How long will this be so? My high school child WANTS me at a football game. I remember those days with Bianca. I still treasure the memories of schlepping her color guard buddies in my Astrovan to the away games.  Loved it then. They thought I was cool. The other girls, I mean.

I was ten years younger, so I was pretty cool... but actually less cool.

Anyway.

We were excited to be there. We got the requisite EBHS hot dogs, drinks, found a spot on the hillside on the College Ave. side of the Stadium, we were set. I got to sing along to the Fight Song (Notre Dame, also the fight song of my first alma matre, Glen Ridge High School in New Jersey, before I moved to Dana Hills.)  I got to sing the "Go, go, go, go ye mighty Dolphins, Fight, fight, fight, fight"... well, you know it. I just always have to sing it as Dolphins. I know I am supposed to say "Bladesmen" but it just doesn't role off the tongue as well, plus it always strikes me as amusing because I never really thought of Dolphins as being all that Mighty.

What I didn't realize was how the "go go go FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT" would haunt me.

You may have guessed that from attending a high school with an excellent surfing team and attending a high school in the Northeast that I am fairly... ummmm.. WASPy.

I hold tight to some of my WASPy traditions. Things like, "Don't air your dirty laundry. Don't use bad words out loud in public, especially not out loud" and "Don't call people too early or too late." 

It is so ridiculous that a couple years ago when I found my niece - the one my sister relinquished for adoption more than twenty years earlier in the wee hours of a Sunday
morning through God-I-love-you-Google, I went to bed and then woke up and waited until 9 AM!!! to call her and tell her the news.

So imagine my shock and dismay to see two young women who were sitting out on the lawn near me and my family start to yell at each other, use the "F" word
and begin to escalate. I was frozen in my seat. This doesn't happen in my world.

Now imagine my dismay when one of the girl starts hitting the other, and the other hits back, and then a third friend leaps in, apparently to "have her friend's back" or something.

Another little known fact? When I see violence, I can't stand back and watch.  I have a compulsion to stop it. I didn't see "GIRL FIGHT" as much as I saw "VIOLENCE UPON HUMANITY!" so I leaped up and put myself into the middle of it all.  I ended up pulling up the third girl, getting her on her feet and letting her know she had to deal with the consequences, all with this Buddha-esque expression.  "I have to get my shoes!" she yelled at me.

Meanwhile burly guard comes over and grabs girl, who I already have a hold of... I have not let go, and would not let go, but I would let her get her shoes.

I looked at burly security guard and said firmly (without anger), "She has to get her SHOES."

She gets her shoes, slides them on, and I find myself massaging her shoulders.  "You are going to be ok. Everything will be ok. You just go with the man, and
know YOU ARE OK."

The girl was amazingly calm at this point. I swear she mouthed silently to herself, "I am ok" almost like a prayer.

The security guard looked at me and said, "Are you her mother?" I thought about the absurdity of the question. She and I were of different ethnicities. How could I be her mother? I wondered as I looked into his face, concerned and caring more than angry - and of another ethnicity.

I shook my head and said, "No," and let her go.

I wish I had said "Yes," because in that moment, I felt like her mother. It was like this universal force thing happening in my blood. This was a child who made a split second choice, just like I had made a split second choice to get into the frenzy to stop it, and then made a split second choice to show her some compassion.

I wondered where her mother was, and I kept feeling how it felt to ease her nerves. Her muscles felt so receptive to my caring touch.  Her shoulders felt so relieved to have me smooth out the wrinkled anger and tell her she was OK. How long had it been since someone had told her that.

"You are ok. Everything will be ok. You can take responsibility and get through this."

Am I her mother?

Yes.

I turned around, realized I was gasping for breath, and saw the children I carried in my womb. Two of them were crying, afraid for me.  Katherine was busy mothering them.  I hugged them all.

I thought it was a good life lesson. I told Emma, "You need to know if there is ever a fight and I am there, I can't stand by and watch. I have to stop it. I can't not stop it."

Katherine said, "Emma, I will be there, you stick with me and just back up, move away from it, and know everything will be ok."

Am I her mother?

Yes. I am hers, and hers, and his.

I am mother.

Oh, and EB won their game. Katherine enjoyed her time with her friends and one boy who I know has a crush on her showed his crush-dom as we walked past him and he called her his pet name.  Ahhh, high school.

Just another Friday night.

= + = + = + = +

So I survived getting back to the car, although I did have to race Sam a little bit on the back streets there by EB, it worked. We even made it home without a hitch and I prayed for Emma, who was exhausted and all of a sudden Sam was sobbing because his "blue chips" were gone.  It was nearing 11:00. If the kid wants Cooler Ranch Doritos, lets go get him some.

Off he and I go, Katherine and Emma safely tucked in.

I call Jen Barber, who talks to me about "Control Freaks" auditions and is really excited. I broke another WASP rule in calling her late, but I knew she would be awake. This was Jen, after all.

Sam gets chips and I decide I better call Matilda Kay and let her know I am done with the Football Game thing.  No answer. I am betting after the Chicana Book Group she must have gone out to hear some great bands play, so I leave her a quick voice mail. I text Althea, to see if there are any parties. I had peered down my neighbor's street a few moments earlier... my neighbor who is the host with the most and oftentimes has parties.

It looked as if there were many cars on the street, so I thought I just might possibly wrangle an invitation if one was to be had. Remember the WASPy rules from Part 1? Another rule is, "Don't go anyplace where you are not invited."

Althea texts back, "Nothing's going on."

Hmmm. I sit back in the seat and Sam munches his chips, happy as happy can be.

I am holding the phone in my hand when a text comes through. I wonder who? It is Craig, who has an uncanny knack for messaging me at the exact moment I wonder what I can do to occupy my wide-awake moments on an evening when I should be going to sleep to prepare for a busy day. No, that person wouldn't be me.  He did the same thing a week ago, I was holding my phone in my hand, thinking "I'll call Craig. No, I won't. I don't want to bug him" when a text came in. Craig. "What's up?"

I text Craig back, "Give me 15" and I take Sam home. He is exhausted. He falls asleep quickly. I pack my bag of tricks... no, not that. Mostly a single serving of wine and a wine glass. My friends who see me late at night know my purse carries all sorts of goodies, but mostly alcohol in single servings. I take responsibility for many things, including satisfying my own thirst... and in moderate amounts.... usually.

I check in with Katherine and off I go to see Craig. I don't know what is up with this friendship, but whenever I think I am going to label it as "This is what this friendship is about" something else happens to surprise me and knock me off balance.  On this odd Friday, I don't know why I expected anything different.

I also learned there are benefits to receiving massages from a student intern at Bakersfield Body Works and Massage. You get to learn different techniques and styles. I owe a lot to Kristina, who is moving to the Bay Area. Now why would she want to do that when I just found her?! Ahhhh, well, such is life.

It is well after midnight when I hear my phone announce the arrival of a text message.

That was embarassing. "Ummm, sorry. Just my phone."

About fifteen minutes later, I rested, staring at the ceiling with my eyes wide open. I could hear Craig's even breathing, I figured he was being the smart one of the two of us and was sleeping. My phone rang. Gently, but I could hear it. He stirred. "Its ok, just my phone..."

I waited for what felt like an eternity before whispering, "It might be my children, I need to check."

I looked. Mark had texted me, "Goodnight, Rosemary" (apparently I am not the only one grieving "Picnic") and Matilda Kay had called me back.

I managed to find all my things which had been scattered and strewn about and went back out into the night.  I listened to my voice mail from Matilda Kay. Her tired voice invited me to call her if I was still out and about.  I smiled. The only thing I could think of at that point was chocolate and writing all of this down so I would remember.

Yes, just another Friday.