The Saga of the Blue Hoodie

There's this blue hoodie. It's way too big for me, but it's soft and warm and covers my ears, and so I love it. For a long time it was missing. Now it's back.

I got the hoodie in Cincinnati in the middle of The Hullaballo of 2010. It was August, but I spent hours freezing my ass off. It was cooold in the ICU and my husband made a trip to the gift shop to try and help me abate my 24-hour shivering. He returned with a navy blue hoodie big enough for a linebacker, and emblazoned with a machine-embroidered logo of the hospital over the right breast. It was perfect. It covered my hands, covered my ears, could be used as a blanket in a pinch, rolled up into a pillow, had pockets big enough to sneak food into the room, and helped me briefly blend in with the medical staff when I would spout off during rounds.

I wore it everyday, and most nights. I wiped tears and snot on the arms. I washed and dried it in the small washer and dryer hidden in the closet by the awful "break room". Then, the frigid hospital released us, we drove back to Texas, it was a hundred thousand degrees and the hoodie went into the coat closet.

It stayed there for a long time, which was fine with me. The hoodie was like a sort of relic, almost a trophy, really; a symbol of a battle conquered, a time that was both terrifying and triumphant. So I was OK with leaving it in the closet. I pulled it out a couple of times on cool days, or on days when I felt bad, and I snuggled up in it to suss out whether it was going to be like a time machine and pull me back into the ICU, or just be soft and comfortable. Luckily, it always landed on the side of soft and comfortable.

A while passed and it was cold again. The Oldest Boy was running late for school and needed a jacket, so he swiped my blue hoodie. This was fine with me – until he lost it.

Then… then I was like a four-year-old who'd lost her woobie. I was beside myself worrying where that hoodie was. I tried to play it cool. We calmly checked the lost and found, he scoured his classroom, it was nowhere. My hoodie had vanished.

But then it appeared! I removed a wrinkled navy blue hoodie crumpled up in the bottom of The Oldest Boy's backpack. "You found it!" I exclaimed, forgetting that I was playing it cool. He shrugged and told me it was in the lost and found after all. We washed it, dried it, I put it on, and it felt… weird. The bottom was too loose, the sleeves not long enough. And then I noticed – there was no hospital logo. This was not, in fact, my hoodie. It was an imposter hoodie. My hopes were dashed.

I implored my son to keep looking for my blue jacket and he promised he would, but days passed, then weeks, and I knew it was gone.

But wait! One day, breathless after school, my son ran to me and said, "Your jacket! I found it!" then he paused. "Well, I saw it, actually."

"You saw it? Why didn't you get it? Where was it?"

He scuffed his shoes along the floor and said, "The lunch monitor was wearing it."

"What?!"

"I saw the hospital part on the front. She definitely had it on."

Well, this threw a wrench into everything. We couldn't just go yank the jacket off the lunch monitor. Then it dawned on me. It was a simple lost and found mix-up. We had her jacket, she had mine. I asked my son if he would perform a switcheroo at lunch the next day – just talk to the monitor, explain everything, smile a lot, laugh some and ta da! Everything is back where it should be. Simple right?

I picked him up from school the next day, desperately trying to hide my anxiousness, and asked how everything went. He didn't get the hoodie. Why? Because he had left the other one at home.

Next day, take two. I picked him up from school and nope, no exchange. He said he talked to her, but there was a language barrier and he wasn't sure if she understood him.

Then we paused to figure out what to do next.

But we paused for too long because the lunch monitor never wore the jacket again. Again, I realized the hoodie must be lost forever and I should just accept it. I did accept it. I washed and dried the imposter hoodie, gave it to my son and asked him to please return it to the lunch monitor, guessing it really was hers to begin with. He said OK.

Time passed.

Yesterday, my husband pulls this ratty ass looking thing from the trunk of his car. It's covered in burrs and dirt and grass and smells like someone tested out every perfume from the corner Walgreens. The left pocket is ripped. But it's my hoodie. The hospital logo is intact, gleaming even.

"Where did you find it?" I asked.

"It was the weirdest thing," he said. "I found it crumpled in the road, under the speed limit sign, just in front of the school."

It's in the dryer right now, and I have plans to stitch the pocket. My son admited that he has not returned the other hoodie, that it's stuffed in his desk at school. Under threats of wild finger-pointing, he has agreed to hand it over to the lunch monitor as soon as possible.

I sit here now, wondering about the journey this hoodie has been on. I would be remiss if I didn't think a little bit about this whole story as a kind of metaphor for the journey that lead me to the hoodie in the first place, and how (albeit in a more complex way) some love and stitching fixed a lot of things that seemed to be out of our control all those months ago in that freezing ICU.

I'm glad to have it back. Really, really glad.

My globes are golden and my highball is full

6:41: Find your favorite drink! Look for some noise-canceling headphones! It's almost time.

6:42: Maybe I should do tonight's liveblog in haiku? Can it be sustained for all 900 hours of the telecast?

6:44:
if she had goggles
Emma Stone would be steampunk
I can't finish this haiku because my five-year-old just asked me what would happen if there were no more people or animals on the Earth.

6:51:
girl in the blue dress
screaming into her headset
'magine her armpits

6:55:
I don't think I can do this in haiku. I have too much to say. Like, why does Madonna's cleavage look like it was painted on with an eyeliner brush, and I'm so glad Martin Luther King worked as hard as he did so we can all buy refrigerators on sale tomorrow.

7:00:
I would be a lot more comfortable right now if I was wearing the same smoking jammies as Ricky Gervaise.

7:03:
Ricky G says "that worked" about a joke, camera cuts to Tina Fey who shakes her head very slightly. Oh, Tina, it's going to be a long night.

7:06:
I'm super glad pooping in the sink has already been mentioned on this telecast. It's been mentioned in my hosue today at least twice. I feel like a famous person!

7:07:
There are not enough people in this audience wearing eyepatches

7:09:
Jonah Hill appears to be aging backwards. I wonder if he was the naked man with a time machine running through Austin a couple of days ago?

7:12:
I wonder what Elle M. is hatching under that dress? I'm hoping baby dragons.

7:15:
I wish that Laura Linney had walked across the stage and given a Downton Abbey-esque intro. "Here we are tonight… trying to win awards… fight wars with one another… and remain chestally impressive in front of millions…. I hope that you sit back and enjoy… Masterpiece Globes."

7:19:
If you're going to paint yourself orange, ask to not stand next to someone with porcelain skin. #themoreyouknow

7:22:
Downton Abbey wins for best mini-series! I am going to dust my sideboard in celebration!

7:24:
Kate Winslet wins for Mildred Pierce! Has she EGOTed yet? I don't think so, but it has to be imminent. Apropos to nothing, her amber-colored bracelet is very nice. Also, I like that the top of her dress is kind of formalwear/workout/peepshow.

7:31:
vodka's kicking in
when McNuggets look so good
you whimper a bit

7:32:
Wait. THAT'S NOT LIZA MINELLI.

7:35:
Pooping in the sink mentioned again! Take a shot!

7:36:
Kelsey Grammar? Laura Dern? Is this the 1996 Golden Globes? What is happening here? I don't know any of these shows. Am I in college again? Too busy for TV? Am I the one with a time machine? WHAT IS HAPPENING?

7:38:
My best friend from high school! Her show just won a Golden Globe! Except she's not my best friend from high school, she is Claire Danes. But I always think I know her from high school.

7:41:
Oh, I have so been the dad in the crib. Except the mom in the crib. It's lucky my legs are short.

7:45:
Had to take a min-break there to quote the pooping in the street scene from bridesmaids with my dad. Carry on.

7:46:
Just as there aren't enough eyepatches in the world, there aren't enough people named Ludvic. Also, there isn't enough drink in my glass.

7:48:
Come on gnomes, BECOME A PHENOMENON. We all know you're the next thing after vampires and zombies and mermaids.

7:49:
I enjoy that my husband refers to Kelsey Grammer as "that Grammer idiot"

7:51:
Madonna looks great, despite the eyeliner cleavage. It kind of freaks me out that she's flustered, and getting played off the stage. It's like watching my childhood stumble and get played off the stage. RESPECT, PEOPLE.

7:56:
Let's pretend that the Golden Globes are being produced by the Miss America people. Here is a fun fact that should flash across your screen: DEBRA MESSING MADE AN 'A' IN HIGH SCHOOL WOOD SHOP.

7:58:
IDRIS ELBA CAN HULA HOOP AND PLAY PIANO AT THE SAME TIME

7:59:
BRAD PITT CARVED HIS WALKING STICK FROM THE LEG BONE OF A DINOSAUR

8:01:
Oh, Michelle Williams, I can't make fun of you because you make me cry and your hair is terribly cute.

8:03:
I'm serious about Zooey D. having Star Trek alien hair. You know, back with Captain Kirk, when the only way you knew the aliens were aliens was when their hair was just a tad different? Star Trek Alien Hair. The Next Big Thing.

8:06:
THIS COMMERCIAL CAMEL WAS IN THE DEBATE CLUB AT AGE 11.

8:08:
Go Peter Dinklage! I hope he knows my son has already cast him in my book that hasn't even been bought yet. He better not be too famous to take the job.

8:10:
GEORGE CLOONEY CAN DRIVE A CAR AND WHISTLE AT THE SAME TIME

8:13:
CHANNING TATUM ONCE BEAT UP A MAN USING ONLY HIS NECK

8:14:
I don't know why these fake Miss America fun facts are in all caps. Just imagine me shouting them from my couch. Probably in an English accent. I'll stop it.

8:20:
Here he is, folks, a ladies' man, man's man, man about town. Ewan McGregor! And his teeth!

8:22:
WOODY ALLEN CAN SPEAK SIX LANGUAGES AND BAKE A STRAWBERRY CAKE IN THE MICROWAVE. Oh, no more shouting. Forgot.

8:24:
Aw, man, Maggie Smith was ROBBED. Jessica Lange better make a Wind in the Willows joke, dammit.

8:29:
Madonna and Gervaise, the comedy duo of 2012! [deep sigh]

8:32:
THIS GUY ON STAGE WAS ONCE OFFERED A PART ON FRIENDS.

8:35:
Oh, no he didn't. Now Madeline Stowe has to punch Dustin Hoffman in the face.

8:36:
Third nomination and third win! Those are good odds, Claire Danes. Remember that time when you loved Jordan Catalano because he leaned on walls? That was awesome.

8:42:
Poop joke number three! Take a shot! Well, half a shot, because a sink was not mentioned.

8:43:
Tina Fey is wearing a dragon-hatching dress, too!

8:44:
Oh, Thomas Jayne in your hat and tie, my heart beats faster.

8:45:
MATT LEBLANC CAN SPEAK TO DOLPHINS

8:48:
OCTAVIA SPENCER! Oops, caps lock still on. Still. She was so great. I love her dress, too. I wonder if she has tuxedo fingernails like Zooey D.? Did she just thank Maria Shriver? What is happening?

8:50:
Didn't they pass a law that the commercials can't be louder than the show? Did they only pass this law because it's 2012 and they figured the world was ending so no one would pay attention if everyone violated it? I am paying attention and I want the TV people to listen up: QUIT IT, YOU NOISY FUCKERS. I DO NOT CARE THAT MUCH ABOUT LIPSTICK.

8:53:
Not one tebowing joke yet tonight. I'm so disappointed with myself.

8:54:
Reese Witherspoon! My dad just pointed out that she has the Holt chin, so we're probably related somehow. In case you were wondering.

8:57:
The dog stepped on the remote! I couldn't fix it. there was frantic fumbling. But then I got everything fixed and Sidney Poitier was still only on his second word. Whew.

8:59:
I notice they aren't showing any clips from The Electric Company here.

9:01:
MORGAN FREEMAN IS AFRAID OF WINDMILLS

9:02:
Yes! The Electric Company! They showed Morgan Freeman nekkid in a casket. Thank-you, Golden Globes.

9:06:
Do you see that? I think Morgan Freeman has glitter dandruff.

9:07:
Morgan Freeman might have a pet a unicorn.

9:08:
My mom and I have agreed that we could both use a giant steak right now.

9:11:
This live-blogging is going off the rails a little bit. Probably because I need to be eating a steak.

9:13:
Angelina's arms are looking terribly spindly. She needs some tips from Madonna, I think. Or she needs to help Brad carve his next walking stick. Or eat a cheeseburger.

9:16:
SALMA HAYEK ONCE WALKED ACROSS THE STREET WITHOUT ANYONE STARING

9:18:
Whiskey and Salma Hayek have effectively rendered my father unable to form complete sentences.

9:23:
If War Horse attacks a boat or flies in the basket of a bicycle or goes to live with aliens, I might go see it.

9:26:
The French guy is cute. And he swears, so that's a plus. (Caveat: I am married to a French guy who swears. Well, a guy of French heritage. BUT THAT COUNTS.)

9:31:
Everyone in this house agrees that Queen Latifah is gorgeous. We want her here eating steak with us. Even though we're not actually eating steak.

9:35:
My theory that Meryl Streep and Glenn Close both being nomatinated would be like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters and thus allow an opening for one of the littler weirdos to win was wrong. But that's OK, because Meryl is great, and she's funny and she's wearing a cowgirl dress with flesh-colored chesty-parts. (And thanks to Amy for the ghostbusters line, one of my favorite references ever.)

9:38:
Jane Fonda's looking… leopardy.

9:40:
The Arists wins, killing all chances of another pooping in the sink reference.

9:48:
Leo is looking dapper, and I'm not even a Leo fan. He has fancy boy eyes.

9:49:
Smoooth transition from full frontal joke to thanking the Hollywood Foreign Press, Clooney.

9:53:
If I made Kraft Homestyle Mac&Cheese for my kids, they'd be like, "What's wrong with this mac and cheese? What's this stuff on the top? Can you make it without the stuff on top? Why don't we have any hot dogs?"

9:55:
So do they not do In Memoriam at the Golden Globes? Or did they cut it because the show is running long? Seems like I should know the answer to this. But now I'm distracted because The Descendents won and they're playing Braddah Iz music and it's making me close my eyes and pretend I'm in Hawaii.

9:57:
Two authors remembered tonight in acceptance speeches. Right on.

9:58:
Now I go eat pistachios.

9:59:
KARI ANNE ROY ONCE MADE THE SWIM TEAM EVEN AFTER NEARLY DROWNING DURING TRY-OUTS

Golden Globes! Tonight!

In exciting liveblogging news, my parents are here tonight, so my dad and I will be working in tandem, bringing you terrible jokes ALL NIGHT LONG.

There's been some back and forth around here about whether I should continue with the liveblog, or move to live-tweeting. I think I'm going to stick with the liveblog tonight, but there might be some tweeting mixed in. (Feel free to follow me on Twitter, I'm @haikumama. You can also just go to my Twitter page to see what's going on: http://www.twitter.com/haikumama. ALSO, you should follow my dad, who is @donholt99.)

I have to admit, though, that I don't know if my heart will be in it tonight. Watching Ricky Gervaise on my television is the equivalent (to me) of listening to someone scratching their nails down a chalkboard WHILE a dog poops on my foot. So… not my favorite thing.

Just to warn you.

In any case, check back later. If we're lucky, the Globes will give us random facts about the contestants nominees just like the Miss America Pageant did last night, and we will all learn important things like MERYL STREEP ONCE FRIED A HOT DOG AT HER GRANDMA'S HOUSE and JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT MADE IT TO THIRD BASE WHILE PLAYING KICKBALL.

Can't wait!

Sitting on the Couch

A stream of conscious rhyming thing brought to you by iced coffee and vague despair…

Sitting on the couch
watching Mighty B
There's a kid on the floor
and another one beside me

The smallest kid is hiding upstairs
watching a show with a dog
I am trying to fight my way through
an awful case of brain fog

It's only Monday, you guys.
It's only Monday.
It's only Monday, you guys.
It's only Monday.

There's a pot of beans in the kitchen
that's been cooking for twenty-five hours
it's smells like it's full of those
corpse-smelling flowers

My head is throbbing like a son of a bitch
my middle is soft and queasy
My right eye keep going blurry
which makes everything look greasy

It's only Monday, you guys.
It's only Monday.
It's only Monday, you guys.
It's only Monday.

Now there's a fight over a pencil
And shrieking in the bathroom
Someone just ran by the couch
wielding a handle-sharpened broom

It's lucky I've been so productive today
working with soul and heart
please ignore the google search window
that still says "30 Rock snart"

It's only Monday, you guys.
It's only Monday.
It's only Monday, you guys.
It's only Monday.