“I would rather have gotten the $30 they spent on the pen.”

I shook my head, “I like the pen.”

She smiled, “You would.”

And I do. I like the pen. It feels heavy in my grasp, substantial. The top is magnetic, so it makes a satisfying little click when I put it back on, and the aluminum body stays cool in my hand. It’s not an afterthought, and that is one of the reasons I love working here.

I like the ethics of my company. I like that they are looking at green initiatives, that they are willing to lease a car for those of us at the other office so we can commute together, that I have health insurance that is affordable, that they care. I like that the office is mostly paperless, that we have happy hours and that people actually attend. I love that I’ve made good friends.

So, with my pen, I’m going to make this amazing week. Saturday is my birthday, and David and I  are going to do three things this weekend that we’ve never done before. He got free tickets to the Chinese Garden (his office is moving close to them), so that’s one… let’s see what the rest of the week brings, shall we?

Two things:

1. That is my former GM, who makes me freaking laugh.

2. Yes, that is me cackling like a loon in the background.

On the eve of my trip to Greensburg for school, my mood is tainted. Sometimes, I wish we could just catch a fucking break. For now, I’ll bury my head in the want-ads and hope for the best. It’s all one can do, right?

I am going to be uber busy today, what with my boss leaving to travel the wilds of the regional permitting offices and the list he left for me to tackle. So it’s BULLET day!

• I am quick to trigger today. I think it’s because I’m stressed.
• I successfully resisted submitting my idea for Ignite Portland. I don’t have time to put together a presentation on top of all the other shit I’m digging myself into.
• I’m going to be a part of National Novel Writing Month. I thought I’d already posted this, but maybe I didn’t. Wanna be my friend? Look for…… moodymeow Yes, my originality shocks even me
• My Gym was on CNN! I am really enjoying working out there. It’s becoming a part of my nightly routine. But almost as important, as I change my body, I help charge the machines. It’s good stuff. And honestly, it just makes sense.
• I have too much to do and too little time.
• I need some Moosey love.
• I’m not going to the gym today and I don’t feel bad about it.
• I have links for you but there’s another fire to put out…and I don’t want it to burn my face off.

D and I talked a long time about the money and the fact that it could be up to a 3 hour commute from the house in the winter with the Beaverton office. Add overtime, and that’s just not feasible with my schedule. So, I start on Monday, but I honestly think I start on Tuesday. It’s not my dream job, but it’s going to be nice to work for a company that is dedicated to enviornmentalism. And I don’t think I’ll be the only vegetarian there, thank god!

I have my 2nd interview with company A at 1:30 (it’s just after 11 now). I do have the feeling that they will offer me the job, but part of me wants to hold out and wait for Company B’s answer. Le sigh.

Regardless, I look fierce today. I’m taking my laptop out and going to sit at a cafe and get this deadline complete. And maybe I’ll take a few pictures too.

And that bottle of Merlot from David Hill is sitting on my counter, waiting for the good news.

Back to the interview. The drive didn’t take me as long as I first thought it would. Let’s be honest – I got there a half hour early. So as not to look like a stalker, I sat in the car around the corner and listened to NPR until the time came. I played Tetris on my phone. I re-read my resume (I brought an extra copy). I finally got nervouse. When I walked in, the entire staff, that being 7 people total, were in a production meeting in the manager’s office. He reminded me of a thin-bearded Santa. When they finished, he invited me into his office. He seemed impressed with my computer skills and my organization skills. I played up what I know, and tried to charm him. Basically, I rocked the interview. That’s the funny thing about me, when I interview, I get the job. My Mom sounded surprised, being that I have such a problem with strangers most of the time. But honestly, what do I have to lose? I need a job, even if it is in Beaverton. The job sounds similar to the one I had before, but with more direct responsibility. I would be working on a mutli-million dollar project as the 2nd Project Coordinator. He would deal with the big stuff, and I would make sure he’s getting his stuff done. I met the rest of the staff, and they all seemed really nice. There are 2 other women, one is the office manager and the other is a PM. They both seem like beer and chips kind of women, and I liked that. When I finished the interview, he walked me around the office, and I felt at home. It’s small, intimate, but I think it could work. I drove home feeling quite pleased with myself. He told me I would find out by Wednesday.

And I just got off the phone with the office manager. They want me to come in tomorrow for a 2nd interview. This is a good sign.

I also have a 2:00 phone interview today with another company I was really interested in. It seems the Fates and steered me towards the construction world, no matter how much I would like to change that. The software companies I applied to sent me a curt “thanksbutnothanks” so I’m going with this flow. Honestly, I need a job, and as long as it pays, I’m good with that.

I am still waiting to pick up Valentine from the vet. He’s going in for an ultrasound on his bladder. Unfortunatly when they did the thermometer up the butt, they found worms. I’ve treated both cats for worms before. This is becoming a pain in the ass. So, I have to nuke the entire house, change the litterbox again, and vaccuum. Joy.

I really hate worms.

And now, back to more writing!

So, ketchup — as always.

• C&B came over on Flyday We had a lovely mac-n-cheezy dinner care of C (and it was home made!). We drank wine, laughed a lot, and played a few video games. I’m a total nerd-burger too, because I wanted to show B how neat Halo was. Unfortunately every asshat in America was playing. Figures.
• We went to Tacoma to see the sis and the fam. She had a surprise belated B-day party for G, and for his friend. A LOT of people showed up. Someone got very intoxicated and “rode” people down the “mountain.” I would like to state for the record – I was not the drunk one and I was wounded when the mountain was involved. Oh, and the mountain was actually the stairs at my sister’s house. Don’t worry. I didn’t get hurt. She, however, felt it the next day. And there are pictures. It was great.
• My first week of work was illuminating. This job is not going to challenge me intellectually. I knew that before I started, but I hoped for more responsibility. As it is now, they are taking things slow, easing me in. I’m better when I get pushed into the deep end, but they won’t do that just yet. I’ll bide my time. Their flexibility ROCKS! I had to go to the post office on Flyday, and I left @ 3:30. I don’t have to explain to people what I did for my 8 hours, or punch a clock. Hell, I don’t even have to be there by 8, but I choose to. I have 30, 60, and 90 day reviews. It’s a good place to work, it really is. I just wanted something more creative. But, such is life.
• After realizing that business casual is not my funny t-shirts and jeans, I had to go out and buy grown-up clothes. I would like to bitch for a moment. Why is fashion geared into two distinct avenues? One: frumpy and pastel – Two: tight and uncomfy. I want funk and function, goddamnit! WTF? That being said, I am also struggling to cover the tat on my chest. I honestly didn’t know it rode so high. Let’s hear it for impulsive decisions!
• I hate Tmobile. That is all.
• D had an interview with another larger company today. They are offering an awesome salary. That’s the plus. The minus? It’s kinda far, and I have to use the car for work, so he can’t take it to his jobby job. The solution is going to be a bike/bus combo that should get him where he needs to go, it will just take a while. He may have another interview offer from an ad agency downtown, but he hasn’t heard back from them yet. We could really use the cash right now. But all things come to those who wait.
• I love tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
• Last week, I was the queen of ice-scraping. I couldn’t be the queen of ice dancing, or ice skating, because all the ice was on my car, not on the ground. And today, it never got above 40. When I drove to work this morning, the sky was clear and the coral-glow of dawn painted Mt. St. Helens. The sun rose from behind Mt. Hood, and it looked like the heavens tried to pull the white from the top of the mountain. Really, it was the winds blowing the snow, but it looked like a gossamer cloud that fluttered int he wind. My camera couldn’t have done this morning justice. I love living here.

But I need the will power… really I do. I smoked my last ciggy last night, while playing Halo and drinking wine. The new elliptical trainer stared at me. Yes, machinery can stare, especially when you haven’t used it yet. And I admit that I didn’t help D all that much when he was building it. Lex and I were very busy looking for skulls. Don’t worry, it’s a Halo thing

D and Amandapants and I went to Powells yesterday for some book-lovin’. That places chews on my credit card and spits it back out. My addiction isn’t shoes, or the latest fashions (I know, to look at me, you totally wouldn’t get that, would you? *snark*), but I love  books and video games. The last time we went to Powells, I think we spent 50 bucks. We got out easy this time, because I had a list that I tried to stick to. I almost bought this book, but until the casssh starts flowing with the jobby, I won’t blow money on books I don’t technically need. Okay, so I didn’t need another Gaiman book… but I will call it “research.” Hehe…   Amanda loved the place, and I think she’ll make a few return visits.

I hate Old Navy and small children with inattentive parents. There is no excuse for a child who is allowed to lock the doors at a store, leaving customers banging on the glass, trying to get in. There’s no excuse for a child who is allowed to throw a ball in a store, nearly missing several employees and my husband. There is no excuse for a child who pulls all of the JUST folded sweaters on a shelf, just so he can sit in the pile. When I go on my rants about kids, it’s honestly less about the children and more about the parents. And I think that “sales” make people, mostly women, nuts. They were so intent on finding that “deal” that they ignored the pee-pee dances and wailing, and dug through the wrinkled messes, in the search for that perfect shirt. Let me just clue you in, ladies. It’s fucking Old Navy, not Dolce & Gabbana. I shop there because I’m too lazy to shop at other stores. But damn, if I could just get through there one time without having a near panic attack — that would be lovely.

I haven’t downloaded any podcasts for 3 weeks. My computer is being a little pissy as I write this. Who knew it would be so taxing!

So, I am finally able to write about the residency (a word I have a very hard time spelling for some reason). I should write about this stuff on my other blog, but I’ll just keep that for book reviews for now.  It was everything I needed it to be. Sun shone on the chapel, and happy voices filled the Potter-esque cafeteria. When the wine flowed, I got honest with myself and several others. I learned the importance of POV and that there are not original ideas, just ways to reinvigorate them. After discussing thing with my mentor, and analyzing the ideas for my novel, I’ve decided to kill my main character, and focus on the characters that I really like to write — the other protag and the antag. The fun part of this whole thing will be working on their story, without the one character I tried to write. My mentor was just as excited about this whole process as I was. It feels good to be on the right path.

Beyond the writing, because residency is so much more than just the writing, I attended a wonderful class taught by graduating students. One really stood out. She gave us 3 index cards and had us pick a movie, a book, and a myth. On each card we had to write the : protag, antag, theme, setting, and story. Just brief little snippets and descriptions, nothing major. Then we had to mix it up – take the protag and theme from one, add the setting from another, and the antag from the last one. Then we had a brand new story to write. I’m not explaining this very well, but it’s a project I look forward to goofing off with. I’m going to write those cards down for all the books I’ve read, and the movies I have seen. If I can’t find anything to write about, I will dig out the cards and shuffle them about. An idea will fall into my lap, if I am patient.

While I braved the wilds of PA, I ignored the tv news stations, and remained blissfully ignorant of the political bullshit that has become that primaries. Let me just say this: name calling on either side of the isle does nothing to the “discussion” we should be having as Americans. That being said, it is a shame that the media is the true power in this country, not the voter. I’m jaded and bitter because the message that should be out there is : how are we going to make this country better. It shouldn’t be about Hillary crying, or McCain’s stupid bus. People don’t take this shit as seriously as they should, although if you pay attention, it will make you sad.

Oh — and Liberal isn’t a bad word. If you are middle class and think the conservatives really “get” you, you should take a deep, dark look at what that party represents. Be honest…then talk to me.

On another note, I start the job tomorrow. I’m salary. I bought adult clothes (no jeans….sigh), and I am nervous. Miss C was kind enough to invite D and me to dinner, but we had to pass. I have to go brave the wilds of the grocery store and Target. I need more shirts. While I love the tattoo on my chest, it’s a pain in the ass to hide when I go to work. I’m going to wear turtle necks for 3 months. Why 3? After 90 days I am permanent. I know how to play this game.

I would like to say: I love Portland. I missed being home. I’m glad that I finally got a job. And it is interesting how things work out —– when I need something to pull through, it does. But I have to need it first…. it doesn’t come at will. And for that… I am grateful.

Hope you had a groovy weekend.

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Today, I have “depression hangover.” It’s the only way I can explain the after effects of that kind of sadness. But I am better, not 100%, but better. I have let work, friends, grad school applications, school and the future all stress me out. I need to breathe. And on that note, I am going to spend some time with my fuzzies and my man. I just got home from a very ineffective study session with Amanda (neither one of us could focus) so I am ready to relax. I hope you all have a great weekend….

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I’m not commenting personally, but I did find the article amusing.

But these aren’t in order, and if you think something specifically applies to you, it probably doesn’t.

Enjoy.
What Monday Looks Like
I don’t know if that little dig was towards me. Kind of vain if I assume it was, but if it was directed towards me, we need to have a little chat you and I. Shit. We should chat anyway. See, things seem to have changed. Priorities shifted. Where there was once a bridge rests a gap of such magnitude that I believe there isn’t a discourse in the world that can gap it.

You do this often, this silent thing. While I understood it for a while, being that I have the same flaw I think it’s time to grow up. Either I am welcome in your home or I’m not. There really isn’t any other way. I’m very black and white.

And I will say one more thing. The world doesn’t owe you anything. The best advice I ever received was that the world didn’t revolve around me. You should take a look at that phrase. I thought I could find decency and understanding in you and all I get is the silent treatment and “I’ll make it if I can” crap. Don’t do me any favors hon.

Moodswing 
I rode the giggly high of mania last night, and crashed as I stood in front of Bravissimo’s.

The limits of my sanity stretch themselves to the breaking point at times. Yesterday I laughed. Today I want to punch someone. No reason, beyond annoyance. It’s so frustrating getting this way. The urge to violate someone’s safety rushes through me and if someone were to invade the sanctity of my desk-space I would be liable to hit them.

This is not sane, people. This does not feel good. It is scary.

Illumination 
I work in a pretty building.

My building doesn’t instill wonder from the outside. Encased in shiny, mirrored windows, the front is a rolling slide turned on its side.

Consecration Isolation

My desk, hell my life, sometimes feels off the beaten path.
But how far is too far? Never doubt that D fills most of the niches that need busy clutter, but there are those spots not even he can’t fill. When they grow empty, dusty with long neglect, I feel isolated.

This is not a plea for an endless stream of visitors to the porch, or invitations offered in the hand of pity. It’s just a statement like many more I shall make. Perhaps it is being out of school for a few weeks that sets me into this tailspin. Or maybe I am still suffering the ill effects of a shitty holiday season. What ever the case, my need for social interaction, some kind of fucking attention

Scene
The door closed, but I expected that. Collecting the shards of his shattered wine glass, I contemplated the moments slowly. Dinner for two, alone. I could feel myself warming in his presence, warming steadily. Eyes scattered about the room. Silence, for the first time uncomfortable. Warmth cools. Dinner abandoned on shiny plates, he gulps the wine between blows in the form of stuttered comments, rolling the liquid around the bowl’s flushing my feelings down the toilet. Moments later, it all breaks apart.

A week later, he brings the reason for our demise to my house. I lived there with his best friend, his best friend who introduced the two of them. She smiled prettily. I refused to come out of my room after the introductions. I wanted to pull him into the darkness with me, hypnotize him with promises and compromises. Instead, I did lines and smoked in silence.

Just Pile it On
Seems I am everyone’s shitcan today.

First, the finances decide to take a big bounce.
Then I come into work to find out that I apparently know nothing about computers, but people who can’t use the “save-as” function understand the inner workings of a network.
And the icing on the fucking cake was an accusation from someone who should have known better. But, I digress, let me address this in the order it was received.

Bouncy. Well, we celebrated too much. Didn’t take into account bills that like to show up randomly. We are going to use quick books and budget our funds. Together, our household salary is impressive. Almost more impressive are the bills we pay. But this is the kind of life we choose to lead, so that’s what comes with it.

Morons. “But I can save to the K drive in the field”
“No, you can’t. You aren’t connected to the network in the field.”
“I do it all the time” Accusatory glance.
“I have no idea what you are doing but you are not saving directly to the K drive.”
“Yeah, what ever.”

What was he doing? He had a folder named “K Drive” on his desktop which would sync with the drive when he got back into the office. But you try to explain that to obstinate rednecks with just enough knowledge to be argumentative.

Hung Up.
I think this was just the cake topper, for me at least. But you officially chapped my ass with your little obtuse commentary. First, the phone works both ways. I have tried to call you numerous times, got the machine, and no return call. That is a subtle hint if I ever got one. But it continued with being blown off time after time. And when I did see you, it was because you were already out, and hammered with one your “best friend”. Beyond that? Nadda. I understand the new job thing.

Stories from the other side
We love Babbo’s at dusk. The Ravioli Formaggi and a good bottle of wine allows for a peaceful evening. Last Friday’s visit was no different. Dusk settled and the sky glowed with puffy pink clouds and streaks of stubborn lavender. Our server (I wish I remembered his name) welcomed us like and old friend and as we sat, I noticed the diverse diners. The well-to-do sat next to a couple of older women talking about their grandkids (yes, I eavesdrop!). I smiled as a couple sat at the table next to us. They shared an appetizer and long, loving looks.

One Year Ago – Today 
We prepared for the unkown. After the power went out at 9:30, I spent the evening huddled in the hallway with the creatures. A storm blew furiously. I felt the ground rumble as great oaks fell. I listened with great fear to the wind tearing my neighborhood apart. Darkness fell. It fell hard. And just after midnight D and I, accompanied by our trusty canines (who had to pee) ventured out to see the damage. It was year ago today that Hurricane Charley blew through our lives.

I have to thank that damnable storm for a lot of things. I learned to fully appreciate air conditioning. I didn’t care much about the lights, as candlelight is quite becoming. But the infernal, sticky, overbearing heat of a summer night brought love for blessed cool air. I also came to appreciate how old homes are built. The idea of covering 27 windows (I counted them all) in preperation scared the shit out of me. But those windows brought such comfort when they were opened to their fullest, allowing the sticky, but clean air to move through the house for a time. The best thing about the storm was a whole and complete understanding of how much I loved my man. It’s strange to think that a storm can clean the cobwebs in a mind such as mine, but as the ferocious wind tore through the brances, it also tore through my heart. I didn’t honestly think that we would die. But I did think that we had a chance of losing this home we loved so. And when the winds quieted, a thought came to me. I loved D. I didn’t want to be without him. And so from the storm came the full understanding that we should marry. I know it seems odd, or off, to think that a hurricane can bring completion, but it did for me.

I still miss the canopies that sheltered some of my favorite streets. And it was not the lives lost that I mourned, it was the corpses of fallen trees and torn vegitation. If you know me at all, you know that the natural cost would hit me hardest. I felt for those that lost loved ones, homes, and whole lives. But I also mourned the destruction of the land I love. I do love it here. I admit that much. For the natural chaos that blossoms from every garden, from every cobblestone street (you’ve seen the grass that grows between them, I know you have), from every sidewalk, it fills me with green.

So, the hurricane allowed some to rebuild with a clean, if painful slate. For me, it clarified what was important. I hope that you don’t have to hear the winds tearing at your door to realize what means most to you. Today, I kiss my husband, and tell all of you who bore witness to that brutal night to remember what you lost, and all that you’ve gained since.

Buying Wine at the Edge of a Circle 
D and I often go to Taste. I am addicted to their grilled asparagus and decor. D fondness for their mashed potatoes and tater tots cannot be ignored. Yes, I said tater tots, but it’s okay. They serve them with a little pot of horseradish ketchup and another pot of Dijon mustard. Good stuff.

Stomach at 95%
I’ve been kind of under the weather for most of the week. It’s a stomach thing. You don’t need the details, but I am glad to say that it’s almost over. I feel better today. I’m tired, but better.
I ended up with a C on my Editing Essentials midterm. At first I was horrified, then, grateful. Many people failed, and some ended up with A’s. I panicked when I took the test. Instead of moving through the answers I knew were 100% correct, I ran around in circles, doubting every answer. We went over the test on Wednesday, and I felt like such a fool. I didn’t answer three questions. Three! No answer, just a blank line. How could I have missed that? And then there were errors that just defied reason. But it’s done. I have the final in 4 weeks. 4 weeks. Oh god.
I have a class called Cuisine/in/art (sound it out) and near the end of the semester, we put on this little party called Art Feast. Everyone in class picks a topic about food and sets up a presentation. I am doing a presentation on my missed opportunity to eat my wedding cupcakes. “The Wedding Cupcakes – the Sequel” will include a better version of my cupcakes, and a little re-enactment of the cake exchange that never happened. It should be fun. I will take lots of pictures.

So, I finally pushed my luck too far. On Wednesday, I got a parking ticket at Rollins

Picknick Killer 
I had this whole romantic picknick thing planned for tonight. A date! A romantic date! And god hates me and is going to wash out my date. I fucking hate Florida and it’s fucking rain. I’m going to go off and pout, then I will have a temper tantrum. And then I think I shall pout some more.

**Edit**

The reason this pisses me off so much is that I am the most unromantic woman on the face of the planet. So, this whole date thing was a big deal. I was even going to bake. I bought a picknick basket just for the occasion. And for the record…I still hate Florida. It’s thundering. @$%#(&%#&%($%$(#&!!!!!!!!!!!!

You can’t feed them in the park! 
This is a heated issue, I guess. It seems that everyone who lives near a shelter or where the homeless congregate want them to do it elsewhere. There are a lot of sympathetic people who claim to want to help and to allow these groups to do what they can to help those in need. But people generally want them to be helped elsewhere. What’s wrong with the homeless at Lake Eola? It’s shaded, with nice bathrooms and has a tacky, illuminated fountain. Is it their body odor that offends? Or the hungry look in their eye

1. 
I want to hurt you all, to rake your face with ragged nails, and then to rip my arms up with razorblades and glass. I don’t want anyone to die, you least of all. But I want you all to hurt, like I hurt. Like this.

What do you do when the meds don’t work? When you get a bill from the shrink you can’t afford. When it’s all wrong? I want to destroy, that’s what this is about. I want to destroy, rip it all down like a 5’3″ Godzilla. Stomping, smashing, killing the pain.

My family hasn’t spoken to me in a month. I’ve pushed them all away, and I am left struggling with what to do next. If it was that easy, then all of the relationships I’ve built with them are bullshit. So easily disposed of. So easy.

David’s feelings are hurt from things I can’t help from saying. I think I’m making sense when the cruel things come to pass, but it’s not nice sense. Not nice at all. I don’t want to hurt him, him most of all. But I do it every time I cut (which I did again this morning), every time I give up, every time I speak it seems.

I’ve cried at some point every day for the past week. It’s the hormones, I keep telling myself. It’s just the hormones. I don’t want my uterus anymore. I’ll keep my phone off to save you all from this. Keep my blog down to keep you all from this. It’s the fifth of May, and I will keep this hidden. Because right now I hate you all. All of you. But I know it won’t last, and I will have to rebuild with the rubble I’ve created. And eventually people won’t come in anymore for fear of violence, and the rooms will be empty. I know it will happen. It always does.

Always.

Sheer Will
Given footsteps and
the beat of a hidden tune
she willed her feet to listen
and tread across the room
But her heart be began to falter
And her body seemed to stop her.

**unfinished?**

Going on a Date
I don’t think people (at least people in long term relationships) understand how important “dates” are. My house endlessly spins with things to do… laundry, poop-patrol, dishes (well, D does those!), dusting, and endless mounds of homework. These dates put a stop to the spinning, the endless motion, so we can enjoy the moment. Watching my parents stumble through relationship problems scares me. Will I repeat their mistakes? Will it ever get to the point where healing is impossible because the distance is too vast? I don’t think they have dated in years. I know that she was overwhelmingly in love with him, but my parents are not friends. Not like D and I are.

Soggy Gray 
This gray reminds me of hematite. Shiny. Dark. Wild. Storms keep us rooted to our dryness, bathed in butterscotch light. My couch called to me, singing sweet songs of peace. But homework, and procrastination compelled me to remain in my office. I tried to focus. She who is dead to me distracted me. I called her and the banner installation began.

I love this weather, though it makes me sleepy at this hour. I want nothing more than to crawl into bed with my creatures. They are resting at home right now, probably squishing the couch pillows in ways that irritate me.

Hidden Dragons

You don’t see her, unless I want you to.
She is gray, swirling on my ribcage in a sea of white flesh.

From Something to Nothing and back again.—- this is the last and most recent remnant

The holidays went from nothing to almost too many engagements. D and I don’t celebrate Christmas, don’t buy gifts, and it’s only recently that I’ve sent cards. Okay, I’ve intended to the send cards, which are buried beneath paperwork, Tokidoki and Kid Robot toys, and pens…lots of pens. Every year we hang out with D’s family for Christmas. Four brothers, with spouses and children, and his mother and grandmother. Sometimes his father comes with his four daughters, but they are all growing up and moving on. So, if you are counting, David has four full-blood brothers and I think three sisters? Maybe four. I feel like an asshole. I should know this, but D’s close to his brothers and pretty much as no relationship with his sisters and his Dad. Such is divorce. His parents divorced when he was still in the womb. All of the Christmas plans for this holidaze season fell through, or so we thought. His mother and grandmother are coming over on Christmas day for some dinner. I am trying to resist the urge to serve tofurkey. Perhaps enchiladas will work. And then we were invited to his brother’s house on Saturday. It’s at 6:00. I wish it was earlier. They will serve dinner, I’m sure, and there won’t be a damn thing we can eat except potatoes. One cannot exist on mashed potatoes alone, although David would try. Then Sunday, it’s Al’s house. Albert is kind of an adopted brother, a close family friend, and surrogate son. He’s funny and I like him a lot. Then on Monday, I make the Xxxxx-mas dinner. So………… shit. Lots of stuff to do. And there’s also a dessert thingy @ Amanda’s on Flyday, and Anne’s momma’s house on Thursday (but I have to work late…so that’s iffy).

All I want…is a nap.

——–

And now, all is clean. My bits posted, I feel relieved. Think of it as I do, Winter Cleaning or making space for the mistakes that the new calender year will bring. Regardless, I feel lighter.

Have spiffy Friday.

Rebecca, Anne and I muscled (or jiggled in my case) though two belly dancing classes last night. My abs feel okay, and it’s not my body that bothers me, but my lack of grace. I’m an ox. We worked on spins and she equated the step to turn to a military “about face.” I know that move. I do. I tried, but it’s hard on a naked heel on a carpeted floor. Rug burn, anyone? And I turned the wrong way a few times, facing the class instead of moving with it. I can’t remember the names of the moves. My hips long to go one way when she move another. My chest dislikes chest rolls – it’s the bouncing. Breasts don’t like to be bounced when they are aching from hormones. I’ve become mostly comfortable with my heavy hips and thick thighs, but sometimes my boobs just piss me off. They are going south, but one cannot deny gravity and age. My solution includes push-ups and a nice bra. No push-up bras. They are very uncomfortable.
Back to the dancing. I feel lost. But, there’s a light. Rebecca was kind enough to loan me some of her belly dancing videos. I think they will help my confidence with the movements. If nothing else, I will learn “dance posture” and figure out what the names for the movements are. Center, I have to return to center. I can her her voice in my head “Dance posture! Tail tucked, chest up, shoulders back, long neck!” I am sitting at my desk with my upper posture as she demanded.
My birthdaughter’s family sent us their annual Christmas card. I am amazed by the photograph. Her sister is going to be gorgeous, and you can see her deviousnesses in that wan smile and her sharp, green eyes. But my birthdaughter isn’t homely by any means. She’s tall (yes, I am still bitter) and her dark eyes remind me of my own. She’s also darker than I am, I think. Her caramel skin must come from her mexican genes because her birthfather was white. I think she gets her height from him. Heaven knows, she didn’t get it from me. It makes me very proud that she’s grown into such a lovely young woman, not in looks, but in personality. She turns 13 in January. Her birthday always triggers memories and emotions left dormant throughout the year. I love the kid, I really do. But this open adoption thing is new for everyone and I am still concerned with making a mistake, I shouldn’t worry about it so much, I know. But I do. I think that’s my job as her birthmother. I would love to show you a picture so you could get a comparison, but I’ll never post pictures of her here. That’s just too close and it’s not my intent to “out” her as adopted. So…yeah. Thought I would share that.

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