Moody Meow

Apparently, the shit that hit the fan on Friday, stuck to the blades, twirled around all weekend long, and stank up the building on Monday. Came into the office for an early meeting. After the meeting, one of the office staff took their last trip out our front door. I can’t say it was unexpected, but it’s never easy watching someone you consider a friend get laid off. When he told me, I’m sure I looked a little shocked. It’s an awkward situation. Now I understand how Chris felt when I kicked the door opened. Except he had more class than I did - no kicking doors, no tears, just goodbye and good luck. He’ll be okay.

My ankle hurts. Why?

Because the bowling alley tried to kill me. I’m glad there is no photographic evidence of my spectacular fall, sliding on my bent ankle down toward the pins. Have you ever noticed how slippery those floors are, especially when you CROSS THE FUCKING LINE? Yeah, totally learned that on Saturday. The laughter erupted like thunder behind me. I’m sure my face was red. D, who hates bowling, finished the game for me. Why were we bowling? Ms. Amandapants’ bday. She’s getting old now (hehehehehe). I bought her sock monkey slippers because she likes to steal my slippers when we have movie night. And I also bought her an antique camera. It doesn’t work, but she may get it fixed.

When Amanda and I first became friends, I went over to her house to study grammar for Dr. Law’s evil Grammar class. We spent hours pouring over adverbial clauses, and prepositions. I still have all of my notes from that class (and that awful book). But when you entered Amanda’s house, on the wall with the wedding pictures were beauiful older cameras, in perfect shape. So when D and I were shopping for her present, he found the camera sitting high on a shelf (meaning, out of my lower line of sight). I wish it worked, but sometimes you get what you get.

In other news, D and I went to Lola’s on Friday night with Adam from the Green Microgym (and his wife and a few of the trainers). We had dinner at McMenamins (Mmmm veggie burger) and then went upstairs to get our groove on. Two mistakes I made - wearing cute shoes that hurt my feet and underestimating the power of Ruby. Ruby is one of their beers, and I thought buying a glass or three would be okay. But they were six bucks and huge! And I think I had three. It’s the only thing that kept my brain from bubbling out of my ears. I hear beer congeals the brain…. yeah. So, my version of 80’s music and Lola’s are VERY freaking different. I expect to hear some Bauhaus, New Order, Love and Rockets, with a little dash of goth. But that’s not Lolas, where I heard hair bands, cheesy (and not in the entertaining way) new wave, and enough Madonna to make my eyes bleed. That’s not to say we didn’t have fun. We did, it just wasn’t what I expected. But I ended up with blisters on the balls of my feet. They are small, but painful.

Oh, and the parking garage for the Crystal Ballroom is hellish. I will go and take pictures of it because it’s six shades of creepy.

David and I also went to Ignite Portland 4. It rocked. My pictures sucked. And David is finally part of the twitterverse. My honey’s all grow’d up.

Now back to my shittastic monday.

I wish I spoke beagle. If I did, then perhaps Pip could tell me what’s wrong. He’s not spritely, bouncy, or otherwise hyper. He stayed right by my side all weekend (including Friday where I took a nap and never really woke up). We think he hurt himself somehow. If you’ve ever seen him bounce (shoulder high to me) or leap like a superhero over the couch, you know the probability that he would eventually hurt himself is HUGE. That being said, it still sucks.

When he jumps up to the couch, he cries. When he walks up the steps, he cries. He doesn’t even try to get into bed now. He sits, and waits, until D picks him up and puts him into the bed. When he pushes up, he cries. If you’ve ever been to my house, you know what madness it is when we first come home. But Pip, while is usually the instigator, hangs back with less energy. It makes me sad. I made a little nest for him in my blankets on the couch and am considering heading home during lunch to check on him. I love that damn dog. And Puck, ever time Pip makes that gawdaful screech, looks at us like we just abused him or something. This morning, when I started to get ready for work, he seemed to be doing a little better. If he’s not 85% tomorrow, then it’s off to the vet for him.

I volunteered at Wordstock this weekend. They ran a very tight ship, highly organized. I think next year I will volunteer again. It was a lot of fun, and I got a very blurry picture of Stormtroopers (I was working and couldn’t get any closer).

My sister came for a brief visit. We played Little Big Planet together, or as she calls it, Scary Monkey game. I think she had more fun dressing her sack-girl up than she did playing the game itself. I love having her in town. And we took her to Cup and Saucer.

I still feel under the weather. Everyone at work has the plague and I think I finally caught it. I’m tired, full of boogers and the urge to sneeze. I think a nap would fix it, but they don’t schedule nap time into our work day. But they should, damnit!

If find myself reliving memories - the day my father left us in Tampa, the feeling of victory when I made him hang up the phone because I was so entirely hateful, a walk through a park in Germany as he held my hand. My first seven years, I was a Daddy’s girl. Post-divorce, I was a wreck who intended on hurting anyone and everyone in my life. I was a wounded kid with undiagnosed manic-depression, so some of the blame goes to the illness, but I won’t lie, I was a total asshole. So, although I thought parents should be impervious to the nasty shit-flinging of their children, it took me decades to realize that my parents were human too. And they had flaws.

I stopped writing or speaking to my father when I was eighteen or nineteen. I don’t know exactly when I made the decision, or even if it was a conscious one because I was buried beneath a pretty time consuming drug addiction. It wasn’t heroine or meth, but it took up a lot of space. I joke that I can’t remember most of the 90’s. It’s funny in passing conversation, but in reality it’s kind of sad. And it was during those times, when I was so emotionally raw from my experience in becoming a birthmother and moving to another state alone, that I made the choice to cut my father out of my life.

I just realized, this entry, more than most, is going to be very personal. I guess that’s my warning.

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Wordcampdx yesterday as any of you following my Twitter feed will know (sorry if it got a little nuts, but it was a little nuts there).  I learned a lot, and finally understand how much I need to learn if I want to be fully self-sufficent as a Wordpress user. That’s not to say that using Wordpress is difficult. It isn’t, as long as you want to use the prefabbed plugins and themes. I generally want to change things, not radically, but I like tweaking things to make them my own. That means that I like to have D tweak things until he makes them my own for me. That’s not exactly fair. It’s not his blog. It’s time to be a big girl and grow up a little.

Entering Wordcamp I was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. They announced that they would let more people in, and I’m glad. I almost registered too late, intending on going, but trying to convince myself not to go because I wouldn’t know a soul there. We got t-shirts, name tags (I put my site address there, but I should have just put my Twitter name — EVERYONE was adding everyone to their twitter feed), and went into largest room for the first presentation. I could go through the entire run down, but it’s already been done, and more eloquently that I could write it. Oh, and if you look at the picture, I’m in there, messing with my freaking iPhone trying to take pictures. I should have just carried my Nikon with me.

So things I learned at Wordcampdx:

• Twitter is my friend.
• Stopping traffic on Grand Ave. is a lot of fun.
• I’ve only scratched the surface with what Wordpress can do.
• I need to make a stronger web presence (for both my sites).
• Portland is full of very friendly, helpful people who don’t make you feel stupid for asking questions.
• I’m obsessed with the stats tracker on my site, and Woopra is going to make it worse, but in the best way possible.
• Live blogging is fun, but I was too busy taking notes to do it.
• There are a lot of really cool, geeky women out there.
• Pita and falaffel are the food of the gods.
• Widmer makes great beer (I already knew this, but the keggers helped remind me).
• Wordpress 2.7 is going to rock.

I have a lot of work to do today for my novel, so I am going to get to it, but yesterday was one of the best days ever. And while I didn’t make it to the afterparty at the GreenDragon, I will make it to the other events there.

And I think I had a dream about blogging.

Go to a “special” women’s group - It’s no surprise to many of you (and if it is, sorry! ) that I am way freaking out of the closet with my sexuality. I’m Bi, and proud of it. No, it’s not a phase. Yes, I can be bi, monogomous, and married. No, I don’t want a threesome, please drive though. But what I am interested in is meeting like-minded people with similar experiences and feelings on personal issues. I found a group of bi women that meet regularly through meetup.com, so I joined the group (and the very spirited forum) and went today for my first meeting. I brought a good friend (thank the goddess you are in my life! even though you don’t read my blog, you bitch!) and we ventured forth to Sellwood and a groovy little new age store. The group was spirited, opinionated, and full of beautiful women of all different kinds. I felt like a total ass, being slightly insecure and totally shy (yes, I can be shy), so I didn’t feel like I had control of what I was saying. I’m like a puppy who gets too excited when new people are around and I just blurt out what ever’s in my head. The conversation ran the gamut - from what being “bi” really is to how to approach other bi women. Because I felt like I made a total ass out of myself, we high tailed it outta there so I could lick my wounds in private. But I am really excited to be a part of this group of women. Let’s see if I can be a little more eloquent next time.

Go to a photography class - Miss Amandapants gave me the best gift a friend could ever give - she and I are taking a photography class together at New Space. It’s the ‘holy shit now you have a digital camera and you don’t know how to use it dumbass” class. Mmmm.. kay - it’s not exactly that title, but you get the idea. We wanted to go for some of the more advance classes, but I honestly need to learn a lot more about my Nikon before I get all fancy. The class is a gift for my burpday. We can’t wait.

Go To Bloggy type things - I signed up to go to WordCamp PDX. I’ve been a Wordpress user for years, but there’s a lot more I would like to learn. I’m really excited about the session on Copyrights and the other session that discusses integrating other system with a wordpress blog (like Twitter, my new addiction). It’s going to be fun! While it’s not till the end of the month, it’s still on my calender of things to do. I love having a calender like this.

Go to Vinideus - D and I are fond of this place. We brought Miss Amandapants with us on Friday, and I think she fell in love too. The atmosphere is quite chill. I love going into a place and being welcomed personally. The owners are congenial and warm and all of their suggestions have been spot-on. They also have wonderful desserts. It’s a great way to spend a Friday.

Go searching for the house you almost took - On Saturday, D and I drove up to Linnton to see if we could check out the house we almost took up there - It was the scary one my sister looked at. The drive up took us behind the industrial area on 30, and north of the St. John’s Bridge. When D and I finally remembered the road (he has a memory like a steel trap), we shimmied up, and almost turned down into the driveways. I decided I would have loved it up there, but it would have made the experience of moving to Portland completly different. Where we live now is in the heart of a very active neighborhood (Concordia), and full of traffic and people and energy. The place in Linnton had all the majesty nature could provide, but the human element was missing. I can’t say I’m 100% happy with the house we have now, nor could I say I would have been 100% happy with that place, but it does have the natural element that the city limits are missing.

I hope you had a lovely weekend….and now I have to call my sister back.

I’m drinking a red. Not much of a surprise there, but it’s called “Red.” Sometimes wine names are so profound.

I’ve got a lot to say, but I’m dead-ass tired. So, here are snippetts, because that’s all I can muster.

• Wool Coats - I thought we were headed for the heart of autumn, D and I hunted for winter coats. We bought some half assed coats last fall and froze through most of the cooler weather. This time I found a great wool coat that complements my womanly figure. I love it. It’s heavy, black, military inspired, but more fashionable. I think all that time off watching “What Not to Wear” really rubbed off on me.
• I Heart my iPhone - D and I did what irresponsible people do and finally switched phone companies with that 2k check I received from Rollins. I have wanted an iPhone since they came out, and by George, we got em. And it is as spiffy and groovy as I thought it would be. The funny part, in a not so funny kind of way, is that the functionality that I ached for - being able to check e-mail, facebook, websites, without detection, is an unnecessary thing now. My current employers don’t give a shit where I go to, as long as I get the job done. But it’s good to have the capabilities with GPS. I’ve already used it once …..while on my bike…. and no, you are not allowed to laugh.
• The Job - so I think I already stated that I took the job with the laid-back solar company. If you got creative, you could figure out which one it is, suffice to say, I love it. It’s so fucking busy that I get there  and I get to 11 or 12 and realize I haven’t finished my coffee, my apple or all the phone calls I need to make. Laid back is not EVEN close to the truth there, but for all their laid back ways, they are very serious about the business. There is also a shop dog - Brutus, who is a springer spaniel. He’s my work boyfriend. Overall it’s really unorganized (which is why I got hired), laid back, bike friendly, and the easiest commute of my life. And the people, I love the people so far. I think a few of them could become good friends. I can tell you, there is a lot of laughter, a lot of lenienacy, and a lot of responsiblity, but I love it. It feels very strange to work somewhere where I don’t have to hide my tats, I can wear my big-ass earrings and no one says a thing. Did I mention the shop-dog?
• Biking - I have biked to work, and got lost trying to come home. Yes, only me. Suck it. I can’t bike this week due to the monthly rebellion of my uterus, but I will get back in the saddle shortly.
• I’m on Googlemaps - if you google my address, go down my side street, you will see me sitting on the porch, smoking. It’s from last summer. Just to make sure, I had Streetview slide down the street a little further, and sure as shit, there was our car. I don’t know why, but it amused me.
• The Green Microgym - I joined a gym, but one with a special twist. Go to the link, and you will see what I mean. It’s about 20 blocks from the house, an easy bike ride, and I plan on taking advantage of their REALLY killer hours. The Owner, Adam, was super nice and very excited about the battery systems on the bikes. When I told him I worked for a solar company, we kind of geeked out about watts and whatnot. I’m a total dork, but I thought it was right to support a local business trying to make a difference. Besides, I got in on the introductory deal and my membership is less than 30 bucks a month for the life of the membership. How can I go wrong?
• Smoking - Yes, you can be proud of me. But I still wish I had a clove, especially when I drink.

I am going to sleep now. Sweet dreams little world. Keep the good thoughts flowing.

I’ve had some hiccups with friends recently. I’m either excluded from the important things, or some get on their high horses, hurt my feelings, and the blame the whole situation on me. Now, shit happens. I totally get that. But I’m more than a little tired of fighting with people. My mantra is “life’s too short to read shitty books” and that’s applicable to my entire life.  It’s time to move on. There are ties to a past that I need to cut fully, unresolved feelings that I really need to get over. The darkness doesn’t effect anyone but me.

One thing I find interesting, as more of a general comment, is that when I go back and look at the archives, I still self-edit. I didn’t get fully into how hurt and pissed I was when Natalia left me in Gainseville, nor the misery that ensued when I found out indirectly via Myspace that A got married, nor how the Dogfather’s distance turned into total silence. Those things really effected me. They still do. Those events laid the groundwork for the current issue(s), and how I will ultimately handle them. And again, I will try to figure out what I did wrong. But sometimes people don’t do anything wrong. Could I have been a better person, a better friend? Shit, yes. We all can, but I don’t think I’m to blame this time. With others, absolutly. I’ve paid my karma debt…. this one ain’t on me. But again….it’s time to move on.

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The Bad (get it out of the way so there’s plenty of room for the good:

• My Grannie will be gone soon.
• My mother is dealing with the death of her mother, a divorce, and uncertain work future and carrying the weight of dealing with an entire family’s load of issues.
• My Budokan class has been canceled - she just didn’t get enough students interested and can’t afford to rent the space anymore.
• I was 45 minutes late to work because the alarm didn’t go off.
• I have to fly tomorrow.
• I’m fat.
• I have a shitload of work to do, and only one day to finish it all.
• I haven’t finished my novel.

A lot of that is pretty negative, but on to happy shiny stuff.

The Good:

• My Grannie won’t be in pain soon.
• My mother has the support of her entire family.
• I bought Budokan DVDs a few weeks ago, and they just arrived.
• My teacher is also a yoga instructor, so I will hook up with her for those classes since I can’t get my live Budokan fix.
• She may get me a gym discount.
• I got to snuggle up to Pip for 30 extra minute this morning. The room was chilly, and his little nose nuzzled in my arm.
• I am flying with my sister tomorrow.
• Our brother will also be joining us in Charlotte.
• While I am much heavier than I’ve ever been, I’ve stuck with Budokan for weeks (it’s a start) and I am going to set up the basement so I can continue my practice.
• My boss told me that I didn’t have to return to work next week when I get back from Charlotte. Instead he said “get your head right for school, and when you come back to work, your head will be in a good place.” We don’t get along sometimes, but he’s not the ogre I thought he was and I get a few days to collect myself, which is awesome. Most of that time will be paid.
• My novel is still in progress. One step at a time.
• My friends have been immensely supportive and kind.
• I have really nice earrings.

My poor Budokan teacher was really sad when she told us (me and one other student) about having to cancel the class. She has other opportunities to teach yoga, and she has to make ends meet, so I completely understand.  But I really enjoyed the time I spent in that studio - with its exposed, water-stained beams, the industrial light fixutures (with low-light halogen bulbs), the exposed brick, the interesting figurines everywhere. I noticed that I was able to focus last night. I found my breath and reveled in my peace and the stillness of the moment. And it could have been because it was my last class, or because I needed that space.

The sadness isn’t gone, but it’s been put in a little cup and placed on a high shelf where I will need a stepladder to reach it. I know it’s there and I know I’m going to have to deal with it, but the sun is shining today. It’s almost warm. I have one day of work to complete and then 2 weeks in which to deal with my Grannie, school, 4 plane rides, packing, and not seeing D. Right now my heart is okay, and I have to be grateful for that.

Have a great Friday, and do me a favor - share how you feel with someone you love, but who may not know it. Don’t let moments pass when you can say something helpful or nice. It’s all happy-hippy karma of me, but just deal with it - damnit!

I spoke with Mom yesterday as she left the plane. She sounded tired, worn, blue, and uneasy. But I made her laugh (it’s what us kids do), and she promised to call with any news. It’s nearly noon on the East coast, and no word. But my phone is still on.

And things keep rolling. Although Lex and I are making our preperations to head east, I still have school in 2 weeks. I still have plans to make for that, writing to do, editing to work on, and I have to figure out how to ship wine to the hotel for Calie and me.  You can’t take wine on a plane. The terrorists love wine.

I finally bought my bag for school. I  borrowed Amandapant’s suitcases for my last trip to Seton Hill, and had my vintage bags busted open during my first trip. After Amanda was kind enough to let me borrow hers, Pip decided that my toothpaste needded to be freed from the bag, and ripped a hole in the mesh pocket. So I don’t want to borrow her bags again for fear of beagle destruction. Being that I’m still sad, I’m attempting to relieve my depression and feelings of insigificance with retail therapy, kittens. I’m turning into my mother…ugh.

I’ve been a fan of Tom Bihn since about 2004 or so. My first purchase  was a laptop bag, then D and I shelled out a few clams for the Cafe Bags. I’ve had my eye on the Imago for since they developed it, but I’m really happy with my Timbuk2 bag for the day to day stuff. This bag should force me to pack lighter, which is good. For some reason I’m always compelled to bring huge bottles of shampoo and spare towels. If I was staying in the dorm, that would be understandable, but I’m in a hotel room. They have shampoo. They have towels. I should just chill.

I also went on a mini shopping spree at Threadless.com - I blame my mother again. She made me love sales, and threadless was haveing a killer sale, so I bought shirts. And I love this one. Because it’s true. Okay, it’s not true, but it still makes me laugh. And laughter, my friends, is the cure for what ails you. So is alphabet soup, at least, that’s what I hear.

How hard it must be to make that decision - life support, or death.

Mom is flying east tomorrow to help the family make the decision. Lex and I will fly out soon. Our family needs us. And while I know when she passes it wil be a blessing for her, and while I know that I’ve been preparing for the possibility for years, it’s just hard. I hate goodbyes.

Let this be a warning…I’m on my “I can’t fucking stand self-important Christians who tread on hypocritical moral high ground” soapbox… Why? Because it’s pre-coffee time, I forgot my breakfast and I pissed at the world that I had to get out of bed this morning.

Only someone who is painfully idiotic or completly unaware would hand me a card that had “congrats to your new spawnling - it was a present from god” or some such shite on it, and actually expect me to sign it. Getting preggers isn’t that much of a miracle, at least not in my mind. It doesn’t take intelligence, and for many it’s not even a choice. For this mother it was, and so I signed the card, but the person who handed me the card irks me daily, and she, with her bible-loving heart, picked the fucking thing. No one in the office is religious, only this woman. Even the new mom is not a church goer, and I felt very uncomfortable signing a card that indicated something in which I don’t belive.

And the fucking thing was pink.

Someone please, just stab me in the eyeballs with the broad end of an umbrella.

—- Post Lunch —

Lunch: the rest of my morning coffee, funky pasta with vodka cream sauce, and some Depeche Mode. I almost like humans again.

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Thwap - that’s what this would sound like. When I was half asleep, trying to wake up and uncurl myself from around a particularly cute pile of beagles, I listened to the morning talking heads chewing on this story with a kind of sick relish.  What do I think about this?

Fucking duh!

But I am now interested in reading the book. Not because it Bush bashes, because Mr. McClellan was on of Bush’s chums. I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of overt criticism of the president But Rice, and Powell, and Rove - those stories still interest me, although I know they will royally piss me off.

I never finished my weekend recap.

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That was the first thing I thought this morning when I woke up. How vile? How nasty? How could I smell or taste anything beyond that stench? How in the fuck am I going to get through residency without smoking? But my friend from work is quitting and I am trying to be supportive. And I’m tired of not sleeping with D because I snore (which is equal parts smoking and my weight gain), or not sleeping at all because I smoke. And now, I’m quitting again. Chris is taking some drug. So is Lex (come June 1), and so was my Mom. I’m the only one out of the bunch that doesn’t have insurance. But I do have this near-crippling sense of competition. Not with the women in my life, but with the cyclists I see on the road. I can’t ride fast if I’m still smoking. And if you’ve ever seen a casual cyclist, they don’t haul ass, they putter. I got smoked by a chick in flip-flops puttering down the road, and it still pisses me off. So, she’s a part of the reason I’m not going to smoke anymore. That, and it would be nice to see if my food tastes as good as I think it does.

And now to the weekend recap.

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• was not impressed with Ironman, but D liked it. B was entertained as well. Oh well, at least I got to see the trailers for Indy and Batman.
• The weather is amazing right now. Sunny, clear and just cool enough to keep you from overheating.
• Making progress on the school stuff.
• Saw Amandapants @ Cup and Saucer and spent waaay too much time enjoying her company.
• Realized that Ihop’s pancakes don’t suck that bad, but their coffee is awful.
• Had to go to a babyshower while at work. I hate babies. And showers. And cute, pink things that make grown women “squee” — that’s amanda’s word and I’m stealing it.
• Updated the blog with the newest version of Wordpress. I like.
• Will ride my bike to work tomorrow morning without trying the route out with D. It’s time to take a ride.

The plans for the week are pretty tight. Lots of work, not enough time. But hey, its’s life. And congrats to Cat on her new car. I love the color.

I was going to write about my new job, the phone my boss gave me (err, I mean my team mate/leaderperson or something — he’s very into teams) and the desk I finally got to set up. But my old boss from the old job back in Whorelando e-mailed me this morning. One of my favorite people died of cancer. Someone from the job e-mailed me this summer, and the news came as a surprise, but I thought “Hey, it’s W. He’ll make it, if only to pester the rest of the department another day.” Without sending a “get well soon card” or thinking more about it, my life went on.

And today I got the news. So, I will tell you why I thought he was an amazing person. He did things his own way and had a smile that liked to eat his face. His laugh was breathy, without being creepy, and the always had gum at the right time. We called each other names, playfully. I think I got mad at him once for taking pens off my desk. After that, he brought me candy or a kind word every time he passed my cube. For some reason, he was convinced that hiding his computer at my desk kept it safe. He was never afraid of me, of my rages and my illness. Nope, he’d say good morning, whether I wanted to hear it or not.

Mr. Long chewed on happiness, like he gnawed on straws. For months, I kept a post-it on my desk from him. It was just a smiley face and said “hi”, but at some point in the day, he stopped to write that down. I’ll admit to butting heads with a lot of people at that place. But Mr. Long never blinked, so I knew if I needed a laugh, or a smile, or just a moment, I could go to his desk and peer down at his paperwork, and find some reason to smile. He had awful handwriting. But man, he could fill up a room with something bright.

So, goodnight Mr. Long. This world is an emptier place without you.

Some observations before I fall asleep. Because I’ve gone all insominiac on the east coast, and it sucks.

• Conversation is one of the finest gifts that a person can share. I just had an amazing conversation with one of my residency girls, and I think I made a good friend for a long time. When I look at her, I see someone I strive to be: brilliant, unburdened, free, full of light. These people are fucking amazing, and this program is unique. Although I’ve made a lot of friends throughout the week, I will fondly remember one woman I got closer to - who offered me cheesey puffs that looked like shrimp and made my face hurt from laughing so hard.
• When you aren’t drunk - drunk people are kind of annoying.
• Some authors, especially if they have fantabulous hair, are quite full of themselves.
• Even straight men flirt with men of power.
• There’s not enough time in the day to dedicate it to all the things I think I need to do.
• My mentor is a human being, who laughs, says “fuck” and is just as flawed as I am. My first meeting with her last june made me feel uneasy. Here was a published author with confidence and class, and I was a bumbling student who didn’t know her ass from an apostrophe. Now I feel like I can conversate with her without feeling like such a nerdburger.
• Everyone likes “nerdburger.”
• I’m sick of cheese sandwiches.
• Sunshine is good for the soul.
• Honesty and tension are both important in literature and in real life. We learned about it in my literature class.
• I have this neat project to do with note cards when I get home. I may have to steal movies from people to do this exercise. But when I finish, or at least finish with the art I have, I will never have writer’s block.
• The students at Seton Hill are not only nice, they are fucking amazing writers.
• What isn’t said is sometimes more important than what is said.
• If I don’t call, write, or phone it will be because I’m working.
• Tomorrow is our last day of residency, and I am officially sad.
• The black bean soup at Panera needs sour cream
• everything needs sour cream
• I’m tired. Nite nite.

I’m quite down, so let me start off apoligizing for the tone of this post. It’s kind of shitty that i’ve not blogged daily, and when I do, it’s one full of unecessary sadness, but that’s the way of my life right now. Let’s just blame it on the holidaze.  Since the birth of my birthdaughter, and the end of my childhood, I’ve had problems with the end of the calender year. I’ve idealized the thanksgivings and Christmases of my youth. I hoped to live up to those shiny images in my heart and mind, but I think it was just a pale shadow of what was…. or at least of what I remember.

That’s not to say it was a failure. We cooked 3 different proteins to satisfy the 3 different types of eaters. D and I obviously had tofurkey. Mom made a turkey and a roast. Then there were smashed taters and all the other side stuff. Although this kitchen is much larger, I still found myself dancing around hot pots and beagles. And because I woke up later than I intended, we started cooking much later than we should have. Lex and I took a quick trip to the grocery store, and returned with those last minute items that we forgot in our initial shopping spree. Lex brought the family silver, and extra dishes. Amandapants’ casseroles were a hit. All day, the TV blared with football coverage, and D and I occasionally hid in the room.  C&B came later with home made pumpkin pie and banana bread. The pie was divine. I heard the bread was good, although my nephews and huzzie ate it for breakfast the following day, so I never got to try it. With dinner done, the booze began to flow, as it always does with my family.

Littlebro became a very drunk pirate, we all talked about family and goofy shit, and Lex and I ended up going to bed somewhere around 5:30 in the morning. Surprisingly, I felt fine the next day. I drank a lot of water. It’s a good thing. And hanging out with the fam for the rest of the weekend made me really happy, although my Mom was in a funk the entire time. She’s weeks into quitting smoking, and I think that those of us in the family that still smoke make it harder on her.  She promised to spend some time with me, but ended up getting frustrated and wanted to head back to Tacoma earlier. Even in Tacoma, she seemed distant. I am very well aware of the load on her plate — my grandmother’s continually failing health, and imminent divorce, issues with money, etc. I always think that I can make her relax and enjoy her time at our house, but she never seemed to get a chance to let her hair down. That, and she re-injured her knee just standing up, so she was in pain for most of her trip.

Saying goodbye didn’t really hit me until I got home from Tacoma. Then I sat in the house, it was quiet, and I wanted to cry. I can attribute this to little sleep, a lot of alcohol consumption, and no moving my tushie. It’s going to take time for me to right myself, but for now, it kind of sucks. I always want more time, more laughter, more… peace. But there’s something that always gets in the way. Real life doesn’t stop or stand still for those moments when I need time to connect….and now I realize I’m just rambling.

I’m overwhelmed with school stuff, and the pressing financial issues that are coming to a head now. Because D and I haven’t worked since we moved, we are almost out of money. That means no more trips to here and there, no more booze, pinching every penny because finding a job here is harder than I first anticipated.  I am hoping some of my attempts pan out soon, but if they don’t… well I don’t want to think about that.

It’s feeling like winter right now. The weather people are talking about snow and ice outside of Portland proper. I bought a scarf and gloves. This is true fall/winter weather, and I am loving it, when I leave the house. I even keep my hair down most of the time…it’s still strange having a full head of hair.

Amandapants’ cats are downstairs right now. She’s gone again, so I get to be kitty-aunt. They have a lot of room to lay about, but they are sticking to the little chair/tent I constructed so they have some place to hide. My goal is to keep them calm, to keep Baxter distracted so he doesn’t piss on anything, and to make this time away from their house as comfy as possible. They aren’t up to playing or coming out for treats, but I’m working on that. It isn’t helping that my cats keep sitting right by the door. They know someone is down there.

Tonight, the plan is to medicate myself to sleep, get up at a good hour (see: before 11), run, and get all of my school work finished. I’ll be scarce for the next couple of days. Solitude and rebalancing take time. So, have a happy week.

and I promise the next post will be full of cheer….

Hope you had a good deadturkeyday..

I made a mistake with miss C and jumped on her shit for no reason. Sorry love!

I’m still working on cleaning the house. The fam is due in @ 7:30. I’m very excited. And very nervous for some reason. But I went running yesterday. It was 41 degrees! I rock, thank you thank you.

Oh, and I finally finished my curtains. I should have taken a picture of the other ones, which were totally fugly. Now they are purdy-ish. If you don’t look too closely, they almost look okay. My sewing skills are lacking.

I’m off to finish vacuuming.

I read this today, and it worried me. I remember (I and miss) the suddenness of Florida storms, how they erupt in a moment and either bathe the world in water or tear the houses down. The rains here are nothing short of gentle and kind. Misty and almost mysterious, they don’t assault the senses like Florida storms can. As a result, no one writes stories about the storms here, but there — well you guys keep your eyes out for those twisters. They scare the shit out of me.

I still read the news from Florida, especially Orlando. I’m keeping tabs on things, checking up, making sure the place hasn’t gone to pot since I left. It’s more than a little narcissistic to think that it would, but it was my home for a very long time, so I like to keep tabs on things. I realize that I owe a lot of people phone calls. Wait till after the 25th. I have a school deadline, so please just be patient.

I bought a new helmet for my bike today. The old one was perfect, except that it doesn’t fit on my head anymore. Why? My fucking hair. The front is almost down to my chin and the back is way beyond my shoulders now. I have big, thick, tangley hair, and it doesn’t sit well in a helment that was sized when I had no/short hair. Ahh, vanity.

Why do the maker’s of womens’ sport gear/clothing/equipment insist on using pink? I’m not 5, sucking on a lolipop, dragging around a doll. It drives me NUTS! I don’t want to wear pink. A lot of women I know don’t want to wear pink, so why does “women’s” automatically mean that there has to be some pink flower or stripe? Gah! It drives me mad! I’m a woman. I’ve got boobs and a chip on my shoulder about gender-specific colors. Can’t I just have some green or purple on something that fits me properly? Please?
*end snark*
Wait… also. Enough with the fucking flowes already!
*really…end of the snark*

And now back to my regularly scheduled homework.

Tonight, I went to Powell’s in Beaverton to listen to him speak about his new book Little Grrl Lost. He read from the first chapter, and although it’s a YAF book, I am thinking that I would like to read it. I renewed my love for his writing. My two favorite books of his are Trader and Memory and Dream. They really inspired me. And these many years since I first read them, I am re-inspired to write again. He talked a little about writing as a craft - as an art. He seemed so at peace with his focus and his art. I guess that comes with time although he said that it is harder with each book he writes - letting go of the characters and such. I hope, pray, wish, desire to be in a place where the next peice will be harder than the next. If only I could finish this novel with peace and passion, or is that asking too much as an artist? D and I are going to Foolscap next week. I think I need it, and it will be so much fun listening to him and Charles Vess. I don’t know what to expect really, but I hope it is another night like tonight. A night full of conversation and where I hide in the back rows, trying not to be noticed.

We went to C&B’s house. I watched them play Heavenly Sword, and got my ass handed to me in Puzzle Fighter. Of all the strange things and feelings that have come over me since the move, the one thing I am truly grateful for is that some of my posse are here with me in Portland. It feels good knowing I can shoot on over to their house, drink wine and laugh till I snort, then head home to our fuzzies. It’s just a good feeling!

I have work that must get done today. Must. Get. Done.

and then tomorrow we (the posse) are heading to the NW part of the city to see this (thanks to C!!), and then everyone is coming over for enchiladas.

Oh, and I made more salsa. It’s VERY different from my other stuff, because the water content of the tomatoes was higher. It’s slightly sweet too. The experimentation continues.