My Life Through Lyrics

2011 in review

2012-01-03T21:25:00.002-05:00

It's been a LONG time since I blogged. I needed a break and while I had so much to say I also had nothing to say about it. Some of you will know exactly what I mean by that. If you don't, you're lucky. I wasn't going to do a year in review post, but I decided I needed to. I need to see 2011 in writing and know I lived through it, I survived, and am stronger for it. Without further ado, a month by month rehash of the suckatude that was 2011.

January
What to say about January other than holy mother fucking SNOW Batman. It was the snowiest month in recorded history in CT. I own a house and live alone (with very vigilant neighbors, burglars be warned!) which means I was the one who had to snow blow and shovel all of it. I think it snowed every three days for the entire month. By the end of the month I was walking full shovels of snow from the end of my drive way up to the middle of it because I could no longer throw the snow high enough for it land on top of the (over 6 foot tall) snow banks. I swore a lot that month. And I was sore a lot too. Thank god for snow days, vacation time and comp days. They are the only way I survived last winter.

Also in January my cat, Moonshine, got sick. We upped his meds and hoped for the best.

February
Moonshine didn't get better no matter what we tried. He got worse and by the end of the month I knew the end was coming very soon for him. He was 13 and to me that's still young for a cat. My cats growing up lived to be 18. I thought I had more time with him.

Also at the end of February my garage door broke. One of the springs finally rusted completely through and snapped. I'd known that day would come since I bought the house, but I still wasn't prepared for it. My car was in the garage when it happened. Thankfully, the only damage was the garage door. Somehow the spring completely missed my car when it snapped. No idea how that miracle happened, but I'm glad it did!

March
The beginning of March brought the death of Moonshine. His heart disease was too bad for the medicine to work anymore. I had to put him to sleep. It was one of the absolute worst days of my life. That cat was like a child to me and for a cat we had a lot in common. I still miss him every day and even writing this paragraph has made me cry.

The only good to come of March was my new garage door. The new one doesn't have holes in it that you can put your fingers through and it has springs that are brand new and not all rusty. Of course, I had to pay for the door, but still. New garage door! And you know you're a grown up when a new garage door is exciting.

April
Ahhhh April. The month of my birth. April started with $1300 worth of unexpected car repairs when my check engine light came on and my car randomly stalled twice while I was driving. That's not awesome. After the car was fixed I'd driven it 36 hours before said light came BACK on. Needless to say I was back at the mechanics and PISSED about it. That visit was free because they "probably" should have caught the problem when I was there previously, but I shouldn't have had to go back at all.

May
I don't remember much about May. I think it was the only month where something bad didn't happen last year. It's one of my favorite months of the year so that's a bonus. Everything blooms and the days are noticeably longer and warmer. It's just an overall good month.

June
Oh June, how I loathe thee every year. June at work is crazy. And by crazy I mean infuckingsane. I work in fund raising and the end of our fiscal year is June 30th. This year we stopped being able to process Visa card charges for a week because someone at some company somewhere did something that effectively broke our account. A colleague and I spent literally five full days on the phone, either on hold or on conference calls or being shuffled from person to person and company to company to try to get the problem resolved. It wasn't anyone's problem, no one caused it and no one could fix it because there WAS no problem on their end. A nice man named Justin finally had the answer for us and was able to fix the issue in less than 18 hours once we finally got to speak to the right person. That was stress I didn't need in June because June is stressful enough as it is. Oh and one of the days when we were on those damn conference calls? The power went out at work so we sat in a dark office in a stuffy hot building where the windows don't open trying to convince someone that they really needed to figure out what the problem was. Good times. Good. Times.

July
This was the July where I had to push my vacation back by two days. On the plus side to compensate for that I ended up taking an additional week off so that was nice. On the minus side, pushing your vacation back because of work SUCKS. It was the right thing to do, but let me tell you how that isn't going to happen again.

August
August brought Hurricane Irene and the destruction of the area I grew up in. I, personally, had a hurricane day at work (think snow day, but with a hurricane instead of snow) and thus sat on my couch refreshing my Facebook page and scouring Youtube to see photos and videos and read personal accounts as the water rose and swept away everything people owned. I don't often feel helpless, but let me tell you that day I felt as helpless as I've ever felt in my life.

On the plus side from all of that my faith in people was restored as I reached out to friends and colleagues for aid and they (you all) gave generously to people they've never met and to an area which most of them have never traveled to. Thank you again to everyone who donated anything at all (or even tried to). You all are my heroes and are just awesome people.

September
I had to think a bit about what happened in September that was bad. I think I've blocked this event from my mind because...ugh. September was the month that my lawn tractor blew up while I was mowing my lawn. BLEW. UP. with me on it. My first thought was thaaaaaaaat's going to be expensive. My second thought was holy shit, I hope I don't have to call the fire department, that would be embarrassing. I mean, the damn thing was on fire for a short time directly behind my kitchen and under a huge rose of sharon bush (tree?). It didn't occur to me that I could have been hurt until hours later. That's when I started shaking. Gotta love the delayed onset of shock. Oh, and you know how in movies when cars explode their hoods fly up? That also happens in real life when lawn tractors explode FYI.

October
Fucking October. On October 29th we got 13 inches of snow. And because it had been unseasonably warm all the leaves weren't off the trees yet. Which, of course, caused damage beyond what you can even imagine. My power went off at 4:20 pm on October 29th. It was off for a very long time (see November, below). I lost the cherry tree in my front yard. It just tipped over. My beautiful magnolia lost half it's limbs. My enormous maple in the back lost a limb the size of a 40 year old tree. It was HUGE. I spent the night cringing every time I heard the snap of another limb breaking convinced that would be the one that would crash through my roof and into my bedroom. I was lucky. My house suffered no damage, my psyche on the other hand....jury is still out on that one.

November
My power did not come back on for 10 days and 5 hours (245 hours). Have you ever been without power for more than a day? It isn't fun. I had running water and that was it. No heat, no hot water and obviously no electric lights. I "cooked" on my gas grill and with sterno. My house smelled of candles and sterno for a VERY long time. It was 42 degrees inside one morning when I woke up. I opened my windows that day because it was warmer outside than in. I'm pretty sure I now know what it feels like to be crazy. I was not in my right mind by the end of day 5 with no power. I started to do stupid things on day 6 when I grabbed the hot pan off my gas grill with no oven mitt. Thankfully the burn wasn't too bad. I am SHOCKED I did not set myself on fire while lighting candles. I have never in my life been more conscious of when sunset was and of the need to be home before dark to get the candles lit and dinner started.

Next time it's 45 degrees outside go stand in the shade for an hour and then go ahead and change your clothes. All of them. Get completely naked and enjoy the hell out of that briskness. That was my life (inside my house) for over a week. I'm just going to go ahead and say it again, FUCK YOU CL&P (Connecticut Light and Power), FUUUUUUCK YOU, the storm wasn't your fault but your piss poor response to it was. Someday I'll write more about what those 245 hours were like. Someday.

I am eternally grateful for the offer and use of hot showers and for the fact that my place of work had power and heat and I could charge things there. I might not have gotten ANY work done, but I was warm and fully charged for a few hours a day. I think that helped keep me sane. I'm also grateful for everyone who offered a warm place for me to stay or shower or do laundry and the warm food people brought me. You guys are all awesome. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The crews from Pike Energy in one of the Carolinas turned my power back on at 8:20 pm on Tuesday, November 8th. 245 hours almost to the minute from when it went off. I missed the one day a year where we get a bonus hour to sleep or watch a movie or walk our dogs or do whatever we want because I was sitting on my front steps shivering and trying to warm up a full week after the storm.

Oh, and Halloween was canceled. Just canceled. Most towns in my area just skipped it this year because it was too dangerous with downed limbs and downed power lines. I know it's not a major holiday, but it still strikes me that it was canceled.

The morning of the day before Thanksgiving I was in the shower, just rinsing the last of the conditioner out of my hair when the power went out again. I turned off the water and stood in my shower for a few seconds hoping the lights would come back on. They didn't. I got out and got dressed and shook for the full five minutes the power was out. Pretty sure the PTSD from the power outage of 2011 is going to take a long time to go away. I've never been happier to have a reason to leave my house. Getting the hell out of CT on that day was the best thing that could have happened to me. Thank god for Thanksgiving!

December
I guess December wasn't all that bad either. It was just busy. Frankly after the rest of the year I'm not sure I could have handled anything going wrong in December.

So here's to a 2012 that is NOTHING at all like 2011!

Hurricane Irene relief for upstate NY

2011-09-01T21:06:00.006-04:00

My home area in NY was devastated by Hurricane Irene. I grew up in a tiny mountain town in the Catskills, the kind of town where there’s only one road up the mountain and no stop lights (or as I like to say, don’t blink while you’re driving through or you’ll miss it). It covers 88 square miles of hilly, mountainous farm land and encompasses three small hamlets (Roxbury, Denver/Vega and Grand Gorge). My parents were lucky, they live on a hill and were spared any damage and for that I am incredibly grateful. All of my family are also safe (including my cousins in Vermont). Main street in my town however was covered in water. The town directly to the north of mine (Prattsville) was basically washed off the map and the town directly to the south (Margaretville) is in ruins. These are the towns which you might have seen on the national news. This is where I grew up. All the pictures and videos of the devastation are familiar sights which my brain has trouble processing. It's like seeing my childhood destroyed. Hay bales should not be floating down main streets. Houses should not be jammed under bridges.

People have lost everything, their homes as well as their livelihoods. They’ve been left with just the clothes on their back and a hope that their friends, neighbors and people they’ve never met will help them get back on their feet. I know that we’re all financially strained right now; the economy isn’t the greatest and the price of everything has gone up (not to mention this isn’t even in Connecticut), but I’m hoping you’ll open your hearts and help me to help the people in need back home. I’m collecting anything and everything to bring home to help in the relief efforts. And I do mean anything. Have extra toothbrushes from the dentist in the closet at home? I’ll take them. Have an extra bar of soap? Time to clean out your closet? Gather what you’re ready to part with and I’ll take it.

Items needed include, well, everything really, but specifically:
- Clothes - all ages (infant through adult), all sizes (gently used or new), all seasons
- Shoes - all ages, all sizes (gently used or new)
- Non-perishable food items (including formula and baby food and canned goods)
- Toiletries (soap, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, deodorant, tooth brushes, toothpaste)
- Feminine Hygiene Products
- Diapers and baby wipes
- Cat/Dog food
- Cleaning supplies (paper towels, toilet paper, bleach, laundry detergent, etc.)
- Bedding, towels, blankets
- Kitchen items (can openers particularly, but anything is appreciated)
- Gift cards to Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Lowes or Price Chopper (there are no Targets, Stop & Shops, Whole Foods or Trader Joes) or Visa gift cards

Monetary donations can also be made to the following organizations. No amount is too small. Every single dollar helps, even if a dollar is all you can afford to give.

MARK Project
Box 516, Arkville, NY 12406.
or www.markproject.org

Relief Fund c/o NBT
PO Box 380
Grand Gorge NY 12434.
Please write the name of the town in the memo line if you want funds to go to that particular town. Towns hardest hit include (but are not limited to) Prattsville, Margaretville, Fleischmanns, and Windham.

Interfaith Counsel c/o NBT
PO Box 140
Margaretville, NY 12455.

I will be collecting items for as long as people want to give and making sure they get to the areas which need them. The need is both immediate and long term. My home is in Connecticut now, but my heart is in the Catskills. Let me know if you're local you'd like to contribute and I'll be happy to come to you to pick stuff up.

Please feel free to pass this message on to anyone else you think might be willing to help out. And thank you in advance for anything you can do to help.

Below is Main Street (State Rt. 30), Roxbury, NY – my hometown. The little sliver of green lawn on the right is the lawn of my K-12 school where my father taught for 30 years. This is the middle of town.

This is Freshtown, the grocery store in Margaretville NY. It is the grocery store closest to my parent’s house. The CVS has since collapsed.

Part of State Rt. 30 in Blenheim, NY. Blenheim also lost their historic covered bridge. Built in 1855 it was the longest single span covered bridge in the US and withstood the flood of 1996, thought then to be a 100 year flood.

This is the Rt. 23 Bridge in Prattsville, NY. It was completely undermined and is also the bridge I take to get to my parents’ house. Or it was the bridge I take. Just out of the frame to the center left is the site of what used to be O’Hara’s gas station. Any trace of the gas station is completely gone. It looks like an empty lot.

Day Two

2011-06-09T19:18:00.003-04:00

Day two of the 30 day song challenge is your least favorite song. I posted the Rebecca Black Friday video on Facebook. I mean, it is pretty bad. Later on I heard the cast of Glee sing their version and I....almost liked it. It was actually catchy. I might be slightly ashamed to admit that.

Anyway, I'm not going to post either video here. If you haven't heard the song you can YouTube it yourself. But trust me, save your ears.

I could easily have posted the following song instead. I quite dislike it. It actually makes me uncomfortable for some unknown reason. And as such I tend to forget about it which is why I didn't use it when I posted Day two on Facebook.

Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

I sometimes feel like the only person in the world that dislikes this song, but I have recently been reassured by a good friend that she too loathes it with a fiery passion. In fact, I didn't even watch this video before posting it. I just made sure it didn't start with an advertisement (with the sound on my laptop off). I have no idea if the sound quality is good or if the picture is decent. There could be a weird dismemberment or sex scene in the middle of the video and I wouldn't know.

I can tolerate the Dixie Chicks cover of Landslide. Their voices don't grate on me and make me uncomfortable like Stevie Nicks's (Nicks'??) voice does. If I never heard this song again I wouldn't mind at all.

I suck at the blogging this year. Also, Day One

2011-06-06T20:33:00.004-04:00

So, it's been two months since my last post. I suck at blogging this year. Oh well. Not going to beat myself up over it, just going to try to make a more concerted effort to actually blog.

I've been doing a 30 song challenge on Facebook. One of my closest friends suggested I also put it on my blog so I could more fully explain my song choices. And I think I will. I doubt I'll do this on a daily basis, but eventually I'll get through all 30 days. And perhaps doing this will help kick me back in gear with the blogging.

So, Day One of the song challenge is your favorite song. I don't have an all time favorite. I have lots of songs that I will always love and which will probably be meaningful to me for a very long time. Instead of an all time favorite I chose to go with my current favorite.

When this pops up on shuffle on my iPod I never listen to it just once. There have been days when I listened to this song on my entire drive to work and then again on my drive home from work. We won't talk about how many times in a row that might be.

Soldier - Ingrid Michaelson

Had you asked me what my favorite song was 5 years ago or even 10 years ago, hell even 15 years ago my selection would have been different. The album Fumbling Toward Ecstasy basically got me through college. I would stick that CD in my discman, put on my head phones and stay up all night writing papers. I probably listened to it a million times. The first memory I have of my friend Nick was as he turned the corner in our dorm with a boombox on his shoulder singing along with the song Ice Cream. I remember hearing Hold On on a compilation CD I bought through BMG Music. When I think back like that I remember humming it as I was getting vegetables out of the walk-in cooler to stock the salad bar over the summer when I was working in our dining hall doing catering. Needless to say, the album holds many memories for me.

My favorite song off the album is Elsewhere.

I think it was these lyrics which really struck me:

Oh, the quiet child awaits the day when she can break free
The mold that clings like desperation
Mother can't you see I've got
To live my life the way I feel is right for me
Might not be right for you, but it's right for me
I believe...

When I was in college I was that quiet child who felt as though she'd been clinging to the mold which she'd grown into. I felt like I had to be a certain way because it was expected of me. As I grew into an adult and grew into who myself and gradually started coming out to myself it was hard to let go of that mold even though I desperately wanted to.

That mold is gone now and has been for many years. I live my life for me and if you don't like it, well, that's your problem. Not mine.

Long time no blog

2011-04-07T21:08:00.003-04:00

I didn't intend to take so many lengthy breaks in my blogging this year. But 2011 hasn't been off to the most fantastic start. For me at least. But, I'm not going to dwell on all that. I'm going to focus on the fact that it's spring now. Plants are starting to poke their first fragile stalks through the still cool ground. Crocus are blooming. Daffodils should soon follow with tulips right around the corner. Days are lengthening and the quality of sunlight has changed. All these are awesome things.

I've spent a lot of time thinking already this year and we all know I already do more than my fair share of that to begin with. But it's been good thinking. Solid, self understanding type thinking. And I'm pleased with where I all this thinking has left me. I feel stronger. Perhaps more confident. I'd say wiser, but I think it's that I've gotten more in touch with myself rather than gained any wisdom.

So, it's on 2011. Take notice. I'm going to make you my bitch. The crap you've thrown at me thus far is not going to drag the rest of my year down. I will return to the happy and the awesome that I felt and was when this picture was taken last September.

And I might listen to this song on repeat a few times because it seems fitting and I love it and it reminds me of the amazingness of spring:

Moonshine

2011-03-06T16:31:00.003-05:00

I had to put one of my cats to sleep on Friday. Moonshine was just a couple months shy of his 14th birthday. And I feel like I failed him. Even with multiple reassurances from my vet that he beat the odds and that we did everything we could for him, I still feel like I failed him. He was just a kitten like a couple years ago, how could he possibly be old enough to have heart disease???

And how could I not know that he had it? How could I have focused solely on his thyroid problem and completely missed the heart disease diagnosis in January of 2010? On the one hand this gave us a full year of normality. Well, normality and twice daily medications. On the other hand it made his decline seem so sudden and shocking.

Moonshine was given to me as a one year anniversary present by an ex-girlfriend. Another friend had given me a kitten for a college graduation present a couple months earlier (a little fluffy male bundle of orange fur which I named Sunshine) and that kitten desperately needed a playmate. Or rather, I needed someone other than me for him to play with in the middle of the night and while I was at work. Enter Moonshine. Who hide beneath the pedals of my ex-girlfriends car. He was a master at hiding. Even I couldn't find him in my own house at times he was that good.

Sunshine and Moonshine were literally night and day from each other. Sunshine is orange, Moonshine was black. Sunshine is outgoing, Moonshine was timid. Sunshine trusted everyone, Moonshine trusted few. Sunshine is a lot like Ms. Ex and Moonshine was a lot like me.

When Moonshine was a kitten he had an awful time controlling his tail. I just don't think he understood how it worked. He'd often walk around with the tip of it bonking him on the back of his head. His lack of tail control caused an unfortunate incident with a candle when he was a year or so old. Singed cat fur smells awful by the way. Thankfully he was no worse for the wear once the fur grew back.

He also loved to play fetch when he was little. He'd bring me a toy and I'd throw it in my tiny apartment and he'd chase after it and bring it back for me to throw over and over again. He outgrew this after a while, but it was adorable and the closest I've ever come to owning a pet who actually fetched. What about Maggie you say? I mean, she is a dog after all. Go ahead, I dare you to get her to play fetch with you. Go for it. I'll give you $100 if you get her to play.

Moonshine saw me through five moves (one interstate) and three girlfriends. We lived in six different homes together (three apartments, one townhouse and two houses). He and his brother Sunshine have been there for me for my entire post-college life. They were a constant no matter what else was going on in my life. When the bottom was falling out and my world was collapsing around me, they were there. They were steady and the same and normal. And even though you know when you adopt an animal that someday the day will come when you will lose them, I honestly thought that day was still years away. 13 isn't old for a cat to me. I really thought I had another 4 or 5 years.

Instead of an outright purr Moonshine would start off by making this grunting noise which would then lead into a deep purr if he was really happy, a deep purr which still had a grunting quality to it. I'd often call him my little grunty boy because of it. He was a sneezer (allergies maybe? Who knows. None of his vets over the years was concerned about it). And he was a puker (again no vet concern there) which the dogs who appeared later in his life LOVED! Maggie woke me many a night by vaulting off the bed to go clean up some puke. I think she was afraid someone else would get to it before she did if she didn't go get it RIGHT NOW! What she doesn't understand was that no one else in the house wants to eat the kitty vomit. Yuck!!!!

Speaking of dogs, Moonshine hated the dogs. HATED them. He ran away from home for a few days after Ms. Ex and I got our first dog, Joanie (who lives with Ms. Ex now).

My dad called Moonshine squat walker because whenever I moved into a new place Moonshine would squat walk through it until he got settled in. He was a very cautious kitty and would hide every time the door bell rang. Just in case. And he was an excellent judge of character. If Moonshine liked you then I knew for sure that you were a good person. I'm going to miss bringing people over and seeing whether or not he'd let these new people pet him.

Like me, Moonshine loved a good thunderstorm. When I first moved to CT we lived in a third floor apartment with a tiny little porch. At the first rumble of thunder Sunshine would dart under the bed to hide and Moonshine would beg to be let out on the porch to watch it. It didn't matter to him that it was raining and he might get a little wet, he was bound and determined to watch the storm.

Also like me, Moonshine adored olives. I could never open the olive jar without him knowing it, no matter where in the house he was when I opened it. I always saved one or two of the olives I was eating just for him as a treat. They weren't a daily thing, but he LOVED them. I knew he was really really sick when he would no longer eat the pieces of olive I offered him.

Between the two cats Moonshine (who was found on the street with his mother when he was just a little kitten) was the better hunter. While I love my Sunshine dearly, he is not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Moonshine is such a good hunter that one time he even brought me a mouse from the basement with the trap that actually killed it still attached. He was really proud of himself that evening.

Maggie was terrified of Moonshine. Probably with good reason. He would sit on the dining room chairs and swat at her when she walked by. He was black and blended into the shadows so she never saw it coming. Quite a few times he trapped her in a hallway in the house. All he had to do was sit in the middle of the hall and look at her and she'd flat out refuse to walk around him. I had to rescue her from him quite a few times. Even after all that Maggie would still try to get him to play with her on occasion. Maggie might be an eternal optimist.

Over the last six weeks I watched Moonshine get sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker. He had fluid drained from his chest cavity twice. The last week of his life he was barely going through the motions and weighed about a third of what he weighed in his prime. I watched him like a hawk to see if he was still breathing. That's exhausting. One morning last week I couldn't find him in the morning when I got up. When I did find him in the basement he didn't respond to me calling his name and I actually asked him, out loud, "Moonshine, did you die?" But he hadn't. He was just in the in between. Not quite here but not quite there either. He spent quite a bit of time there during his last week or two.

Moonshine never got as much attention as his brother did. Or the dogs when they came. Part of the reason for this was because I was really really allergic to him, the rest of it was because affection was always on his terms. He hated to be held (and I have the scar on my left wrist to prove it). His idea of snuggling was sleeping on the same couch as you. Later in life he finally started sleeping next to me on the couch, actually touching me. I still have guilt that he didn't get as much attention as the others. I probably always will.

I am now thankful for the ridiculous winter we had. I am so grateful for all the days when it was too snowy to do anything but sit on the couch because I got to spend quality time with Moonshine in what I didn't realize were the final weeks of his life. He would sit with me, next to me, as I knit or watched movies. And he'd purr that grunty purr of his and we were both happy.

It's the silly things about him that I miss most. The house is so quiet without him (and he was a pretty darned quiet cat). He used to meow every night after I got in bed. A lot of the time it was just as I was drifting off to sleep and I would get so annoyed. He was playing with his favorite green catnip sock and would find the perfect spot to meow so as to maximize the acoustics of the house and make it as loud as he possibly could. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I miss that meowing now that it's gone even though I'd have to yell at him every night to get him to stop. He stopped doing it a few weeks ago when he got sicker. I even miss him scratching his claws on the sisal rug in the entry way even though I'd yell at him for that too.

I also miss him meowing when it was dinner time. He wore a tiny little watch under all that fur and no matter the weather he always new when I was supposed to be giving him his dinner. He'd be meowing right now actually if he were still with us. And even though he was the smaller of the two cats and the definite beta he would push Sunshine out of the way and eat both dinners some days. I loved to watch him do this and assert himself for a change.

I know have far too many litter boxes and food bowls and food for one cat. And the house feels unbalanced, lopsided if you will. The energy is all wrong. I miss that little guy terribly. He and I were a lot alike, well, as alike as a cat and a human can be. I didn't think losing him would affect me as much as it has but I have been a wreck for weeks now. And while I am relieved that the waiting is over and that he's no longer suffering his loss is palpable to me. It physically hurts.

I'm sure there's a ton more I could write about him. Like how he would follow me around the house if I were on the phone and beg for attention, meowing quietly at me if I didn't give it to him. Or how he would hold a grudge and was cold and calculating and would take revenge on Sunshine hours or days later by a vicious sneak attack for one offense or another. He was a unique little guy.

I know putting him to sleep was the right thing to do. I know there was no other option. I know it was the kindest, most humane thing for him. I know he beat the odds for his diagnosis according to my vet. I do know those things. But it doesn't make me feel any less of a failure to him. It doesn't make me miss him any less. It doesn't make the void any smaller or put the house back in balance. I hate how all this feels. They just aren't with us long enough.

Rest in peace Mr. Man.

Enough with winter already!

2011-02-02T14:29:00.003-05:00

Apparently Connecticut has done something to anger Mother Nature. Or maybe Old Man Winter. Or perhaps both. Because we've had storm after storm after freaking storm since the day after Christmas. Each dumping more and more snow. January was the snowiest month in history in CT. Well, since 1905 at least when they started keeping records.

Normally I'm not a jealous or envious person, but right now? Right now I envy those people in my state who have only to clear off their cars and shovel out a parking spot. It seems all I did for the month of January was snow blow and shovel and then do it again. And again. And again. And again.

And don't get me started on the people who are posting things online about how they're inside having hot chocolate watching hubby, or significant other or whomever shovel or snow blow or plow. To that I say, unless you have a medical reason NOT to be out there helping get off your ass and go freaking help. Snow removal is exhausting and if there are two of you in a household you should be splitting that job.

I have burned so many calories shoveling and snow blowing (which takes a lot of effort even though the machine does a lot of the work) that I can't eat enough to be full most days. I'm constantly hungry which is a pain in the ass.

And yes, shoveling is wonderful exercise and I'm grateful for the chance to get out and move this winter. But what I'd really love is a break. My neck/shoulders ache. My forearms burn. My hands are sore so knitting is hard or just impossible some days. The other day even my ankles hurt from all the shoveling.

The snow is up to my hips. The fence in my front yard is nearly completely snow covered. All you can see is the center light post which is 7ish feet tall. I can't see to back my car out of my driveway anymore which makes me even more thankful that I live on a quiet street. I had to shovel a path (and then snow blow it) for the oil delivery folks so they can bring me oil so I can heat my house. Maggie is bored out of her mind since we haven't been on walk in weeks. I've lost track of the number of days of work I've missed from all the snow. Today is the second day just this week.

Now, I do love winter. I love all the seasons. But I'm ready for this one to end. I have a feeling the snow is going to be around until at least May though. The piles are deep and compact. And somewhere in one of them lies my Christmas tree.

Wherein I whine for a moment

2011-01-18T19:14:00.004-05:00

Sometime last week a contemporary of my grandmother's fell at school (the same school where my father and grandmother taught and where my mom, dad, aunt, uncle, cousins and I all went to school) after tripping on a book bag which a ten or eleven year old threw down in the hallway without looking. This 90+ year old woman fell, gashed her head open and broke her hip. We won't talk about how she probably shouldn't be teaching any more at her age. Instead you get to listen to me whine for a minute or two.

Four and a half years ago a similar incident is what lead to the death of my grandmother. The only grandparent I ever knew. Grandma tripped on her walker on July 4th, 2006 and broke her hip. She passed away four days later, five weeks short of her 87th birthday. The difference in these situations is, of course, that my grandmother died and her contemporary coasted through her hip replacement surgery without a single issue. She's likely to leave the hospital tomorrow or the next day.

And this, I am ashamed to admit, makes me angry. Which in turn makes me feel horrible and ashamed of myself that I should be wishing ill on a woman who spent her entire life teaching. A woman who has made a difference to so many young people. It's not even that I'm wishing her ill exactly, it's more of a "why did SHE get to live and grandma have to die?" kind of whining. I don't want her to die, that would be awful.

My mind is perpetuating the selfish whining of a little child instead of the rational thoughts of the woman who knows that her grandmother had been ready to go for years. I have some how managed to block out the knowledge that grandma asked the doctors to stop trying when they weren't able to get her blood pressure back up after surgery. She knew she'd had a good, long life and that her time had come. She was ready to go. She wanted to see my grandfather again, her husband who'd died 29 years before shortly after they'd retired. I was only 2 years old and know him only from pictures and stories. I don't remember him at all.

Rational, adult me knows that these two falls and surgeries have no relation to each other at all. Different circumstances, different women, different everything. Selfish child me cannot separate the two in my head. Rational, adult me is happy for this woman and her family. Selfish child me is mad that she got to live and my grandmother died. Rational, adult me feels awful and is ashamed of the selfish child me. Rational, adult me and selfish child me both wish we'd spent more time with grandma than we did.

Not to mention thinking about all this brings up thoughts of Ms. Ex and how she didn't want to go to my grandmother's funeral with me. That was awesome. Apparently having to take a day off work to be supportive of me was an inconvenience to her schedule.

I'm going to go let rational, adult me wrestle with selfish child me some more. And perhaps have a good cry.

So, it snowed

2011-01-12T19:16:00.005-05:00

We got some snow today.

The news said 24 inches of it fell in my town.

Took me a very long time to clear my driveway and walk way and find my mailbox again.

Needless to say, Maggie was not amused.

Reflections on 2010

2010-12-27T18:05:00.004-05:00

The end of the year is as good a time as any to reflect on what I've learned over the course of the previous 12 months. And since I love lists what better form to use for reflection than list form? In no particular order, here is a list of some of the things 2010 taught me.

1. There's always going to be someone(s) there for me to lean on. Lots of them in fact.

2. It's okay to lean on those people when I need them. When you reach out people reach back.

3. Everyone is doing the best they can. It may not be your best or my best or the best that we might want from them, but it is their best. And that's all we can ask of anyone. (This isn't something newly learned, but it's something I reinforced in myself this year.)

4. It's okay to light candles even if you're the only one around to enjoy them. In fact, that's the most important time to do it.

5. No matter how old I get I will always be the girl who falls too hard and too fast. I get my heart broken because of it. I'm okay with that and I wouldn't want it any other way.

6. My intuition and gut are always right. Always.

7. As crazy as my dreams are (and oh my god are they crazy) they always give me a clue to the issues I need to work out while I'm awake.

8. Letting go and trusting...two very hard things which I'm still learning how to do, but two things which can be the most rewarding.

9. Purling. Can't forget finally learning how to purl! Oh the beautiful things I can knit now!

10. I am enough.

11. I'm not willing to compromise myself. I deserve the best.

12. Dating just for the sake of dating isn't worth it. Even though you do get some good stories out of it. (I already knew this too, but again, it was simply reinforced.)

13. I am exactly where I'm supposed to be in my life even if sometimes that place makes no sense.

14. Everything I write here is my truth at the time I write it. I might not feel the same after I've written it and some of it might be written in the heat of the moment, but I don't regret a word of it. Even if I no longer feel the way I did when I wrote it.

15. I have nothing to prove to anyone anymore, including myself.

16. Reconnecting with old friends is very rewarding. Not only do you get to learn more about them, but you get to learn about yourself as well.

17. It's okay to ask for what you need. People can't read minds no matter how good their intuition is.

18. I am not broken.

19. As much as I might complain about my job sometimes, I do enjoy it or at least aspects of it. And the folks there have become a family to me in their own way (even when they frustrate the hell out of me). They will never know how much that means to me.

20. I need to be more open. This is a goal for 2011. I don't do resolutions, but I think goals are a reasonable alternative.

21. Fear doesn't protect you, it only holds you back.

22. There is nothing at all wrong with seeing the same artist in concert multiple times a year. Nor is there anything wrong with having perhaps too many jack and cokes during those shows and wooing a little too loudly and a little too much.

23. The Universe works in mysterious ways. You might not always get what you want, but you always get what you need. Instead of asking for what I want, I now ask only to be provided with what I need.

24. When I stop to listen my body tells me everything I need to know about it.

25. Instead of fighting the emotions and holding them back it's best to allow yourself to feel them, fully feel them, and then move on.

26. Giving feels infinitely better than getting. (This is something that Ms. Ex could stand to learn. I'd like to think she has in the years since our split, but something tells me this is a lesson she'll never learn which is sad.)

27. Some people are simply meant to be in your life and you recognize them nearly instantaneously.

28. When something feels right, it is right. If it feels wrong, it is wrong. Seems sooooo simple, but it took me thirty-five years to figure this one out.

29. In the past I haven't spent enough time telling the people I care about how much they mean to me. I'm working on changing this.

30. This one is something I didn't think I'd ever say again, but I am no longer averse to marriage.

31. Sometimes I just know things. I don't know how I know them, but I do and I am learning to trust in this knowing.

I'm sure there are more things I could list, but I think the list is long enough as is. I'm also sure that I've left some big self discoveries off the list, but that's okay. I've written what I needed to write.

Lyrics are hard to choose for this post. I mean, how do you sum up a year's worth of growth and learning and self reflection in a song? Instead I'm going to post some lyrics from a couple of my favorite songs from this year.

First up is Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson. I'm pretty sure I've used this song before, but I don't care.

I don't believe in anything but myself
I don't believe in anything but myself
But then you opened up a door, you opened up a door
Now I start to believe in something else.

But how do I know if I'll make it through
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And so it goes, this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won

Next up is The Light by Sara Bareilles.

In the morning it comes, heaven sent a hurricane
Not a trace of the sun, but I don't even run from rain
Beating out of my chest, my heart is holding on to you
From the moment I knew
From the moment I knew

You were the air in my breath filling up my love soaked lungs
Such a beautiful mess intertwined and overrun

Wishing you all a 2011 filled with joy and love!

Ghosts of Christmas Past

2010-12-22T19:50:00.003-05:00

I miss these Christmases. Not the being a kid part (although, that's totally appealing sometimes), but the getting together at my grandmother's house with my aunts and uncles and cousins.

But grandma's gone. And my cousins have families of their own now. And we're more spread out geographically than we were growing up. So, it's just me and my mom and dad at Christmas. And the older we all get the more I start to think about what it's going to be like when they're gone. Which is totally not what the spirit of the season is about, but it's where my brain goes.

I know I've glamorized these family Christmases. I mean, I do distinctly remember how awkward they would get. How no one really wanted to go, but we all did anyway. How we would all eat before we went because grandma's cooking was never very good (and often consisted of leftovers from a church supper, in like April) and gave everyone gas. How very COLD her house was and how we would secretly turn up the thermostat while pretending to have conversations outside the bathroom.

I guess...I guess I just miss getting together with my family. I never see one set of cousins anymore. It's been years. The other set I see once, maybe twice a year, which is partly my fault because I don't go home for every holiday. But none of us really make an effort. Which I feel bad about sometimes. But then proceed to do nothing about it. And then I feel bad all over again.

I kind of can't wait for the holidays to be over. I'm looking forward to returning to my normal routine. The one where people everywhere aren't so stressed with Christmas cheer and where traffic returns to normal and you can set foot in stores without wanting to hang yourself. And where I can stop thinking about the ghosts of Christmases past.

This Christmas

2010-12-15T20:29:00.004-05:00

When I sat down to write this post I thought I'd just dash off a few quick words, something akin to "and so, you know, this happened five years ago and explains why I think all those "buy her a ring for Christmas!" commercials are such bullshit" and link to this post from a couple years ago and call it a day. There really isn't much more to say about Christmas of 2005 than what I've already said in that post.

What struck me as I re-read the words I wrote back in 2008 was how different a person I am today than I was then. Back then I was really focused on finding someone to be with. I thought that would make me happy. I think I had something to prove, to myself, to others, probably to both.

Since then I've realized that when you try to fill what you feel is a gap, a lack, an emptiness in your life with someone else or by buying more things (crap you simply do not need) you're doing yourself a disservice. Focus on yourself first and things will then fall into place. Focus externally and you will spend weeks, months, years and even decades feeling that emptiness and wondering why you never feel full or complete.

I'm not the lonely girl with something to prove to the world anymore. I'm just me. I'm happy, whole, complete and I have nothing to prove to myself or to you or to anyone else. I am blessed with the best friends you could ever ask for. My family loves me just as I am. I own a beautiful home. I have enough food to eat and heat on this frigid December night. I have a good job and health insurance and a car to drive. I have three wonderful four legged children who love me unconditionally (unless I forget to feed them, then all bets are off). There is nothing lacking from my life. That is a wonderful feeling.

And this Christmas I put up a Christmas tree for the first time since that Christmas.

And maybe, if I'm really lucky, I'll finish my Christmas shopping in the next day or two!

The voices in my head

2010-12-01T19:53:00.003-05:00

I've been having long discussions with myself lately. Not aloud of course. Well, mostly not aloud that is. I do talk to myself with a frequency I probably shouldn't publicly admit to, but the voices never tell me to do anything bad....

Anyway, these self talks have been wonderful and very grounding for me. Or maybe centering is the better word. Regardless, what it boils down to is the fact that I feel myself again. And I can tell I feel myself because of things I've been saying to dear friends of mine. Things that would not have come out of my mouth (er, fingers? since they've been said via text and e-mail) a few weeks ago. Welcome back me!!

During these self talks there have been a few key phrases which have been repeated over and over and over ad nauseam. In no particular order they are:

- Life is short
- Get over yourself
- Listen to your gut
- It's not about you
- Let go
- No, really get the fuck over yourself

And so, that's what I plan to do. Get the fuck over myself because life is short. And you really don't know what tomorrow will bring.

We can plan for the future until we're blue in the face, but I think most adults know by now that life rarely goes as we've planned it. And that's okay. That doesn't mean you shouldn't make plans for the future or figure out a path and a way to follow your dreams, it just means don't be surprised if things don't exactly go as you planned.

Had my life gone as I imagined it would I'd now be married to a boy named Eric (or maybe James even), with a house and kids and all that. And as wonderful as Eric is (and James too), I would be completely fucking miserable because I don't like boys in that way (but James does, so we'd both have been miserable!).

So, here's me starting to get over myself. And letting go. And not being afraid. And all sorts of other good things that make me who I am, who I'm meant to be.

And I'm taking a friend's advice and not over editing this post. I have a tendency to write and re-read and edit and re-read and edit and re-read and edit instead of just writing. I need to learn to let go a bit better, in so very many ways....

Enough

2010-11-17T19:39:00.005-05:00

I guess I decided not to disappear from my blog for too long. Apparently I have things to say even though I'm very much still licking my wounds.

One of the folks I follow on Twitter posted a link to this article today and it got me thinking. Okay, fine, what doesn't get me thinking? In this case, I started thinking about courage (If you don't want to read the whole article, at least read the last three paragraphs) and how it relates to my life over the past five years.

For most of my life I haven't let people see my vulnerable side. God forbid someone should think I might be weak! My answer to "are you okay" has usually been to paste on a smile and reply with "oh, I'm fine, thanks for asking." Very few people have actually seen me cry and I cry at everything, books, movies, music, commercials, you name it I cry at it. But I can't remember the last person I cried in front of. Might be Ms. Ex during one of our many, many, lengthy "discussions."

When Ms. Ex and I were having our issues during the 18 months it took for us to get engaged and then finally split up I kept everything to myself for the most part. All the screaming matches. All the "discussions" during which she repeated the same few phrases over and over and over again. I think I talked about it, really talked about it, with just one of my friends. Who lives 3,000 miles away. I might have shared bits and pieces with others, but no one really knew the full story. I kept all the pain and anger and shame and embarrassment and feelings of complete failure inside. It boiled inside me, bubbling to the surface only when I could no longer contain it all without exploding. But never in front of other people. It slowly ate away at me, making me feel small and broken. And so very, very, utterly alone.

When FMHW and I broke up I was more open with my pain. I started to open up about what I was feeling. Started letting my friends see my vulnerability. Sharing what I was feeling, letting them help me through the rough times. I was starting to understand that vulnerability didn't equate to weakness. I let people in, let them see the side of me that was messy. And for the first time in a long time I didn't feel quite so alone anymore. I even started this blog to share my story with anyone who might happen to read it.

What I've learned in the two plus years since then is that it's okay to be honest about how you're feeling. It's okay to have a bad day for no reason. It's okay to be sad or angry or hurt and to let people know how you're feeling. People will still like you. In fact, they will put their arm around you (metaphorically speaking) and listen, really listen. They won't turn away from you, leave you there raw and exposed and alone. In fact, they will begin sharing with you in return. All of this takes courage, not the heroic kind of courage we're so used to hearing about these days, the kind where a fireman runs back into a burning building to save an infant or a kitten, but the original meaning of the word courage, "speaking one's mind by telling one's heart" as the article says.

It also takes a bit of coming to terms with the fact that, no, in fact you aren't perfect. No matter how strong you might be there is still a weakness inside of all of us. A vulnerability which should be shared with friends and loved ones. The messy side of each and every one of us is a beautiful thing. And in that imperfection is where you find perfection. I am not perfect. I make mistakes. I say the wrong things. I do the wrong things. I make bad decisions. I quote song lyrics in an attempt to win someone's love (okay, so it was just that once, but it still haunts me). But all those things make me who I am, this perfectly imperfect mess of a person.

The hardest part of being vulnerable, of letting people in, is realizing that it's okay to just be me. That me, as I am, is enough. I am enough. Took me 30 plus years to realize this. For a fast learner I can be really obtuse sometimes.

No matter how broken I might feel, and believe me right now I feel so very very broken, deep down there is still a little part of me that knows I am enough. Knows that I am exactly who I am supposed to be and you know what? That's more than good enough.

So, yes, right now I feel broken. I'm hurt and angry with myself still (for fuck's sake I KNOW better!). There are tears (hey look, I admitted to the entire world that I've been crying!), tears for something that wasn't even really anything to begin with. Tears for the possibilities. I'm a sensitive soul. I feel deeply, very deeply, and these things, well, they cut me to my core. Always have and always will. It's just part of who I am. I don't think I'd want it any other way.

But, I will be okay. I will be more than okay, I'll be amazing again someday. Because I am an amazing person. Ever since I wrote this post I feel like I have to qualify my posts by saying I'm not in the tunnel. And if I was I would reach out and I know that there are people there to help. People who don't care if I'm messy, people who love me as I am and who just want to see me get better.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out to me, those both near and far, new friends and old. You guys are awesome, I don't know what I'd do without you. You are all very special to me and I cannot believe how incredibly lucky I am to have you all in my life. I don't tell you all that nearly enough. So, thank you, thank you, thank you. And should you ever need anything in return just ask and it's yours.

Oh, and if anyone has seen my focus and concentration could you please send them back in my direction? I'd be forever in your debt.

Lyrics for this post...there weren't going to be any when I first started writing, but as I kept typing all I could hear over and over and over in my head were these lyrics from Good Enough by Sarah McLachlan. So, here you go:

Hey your glass is empty
it's a hell of a long way home
why don't you let me take you
it's no good to go alone
I never would have opened up
but you seemed so real to me
and after all the bullshit I've heard
it's refreshing not to see
I don't have to pretend
she doesn't expect it from me

Always a bridesmaid and never.....

2010-11-15T01:47:00.002-05:00

History does have a way of repeating itself. Whether it's because we haven't learned the lesson well enough the first (or second or third or fourth or whatever) time around or because the lesson wasn't for us this time, but was instead for the other party, I'm not sure. But it definitely does repeat itself.

One of these days I am going to get it right. One of these days it won't be a case of wrong place wrong time. One of these days it's going to be my turn. Please for the love of God let it be my turn.

Tonight, the other shoe dropped, just as I knew it would for a few weeks now. And it dropped after my poking at it so you could say I brought it on myself. And though I fooled myself into thinking that perhaps I was wrong, perhaps for once my instinct, gut and intuition were all off base I knew deep down they weren't.

I'm angry with myself for letting things go as long as they did without clarity. I know better than that, but I put on my rose colored glasses and pretended it wasn't happening.

It's not the honesty that bothers me. The honesty is a good thing and I truly mean it when I say I want people to be honest with me even if they think the truth will hurt. Being lied to or misled hurts even more. Been there, done that and won't stand for it anymore. The honesty is a definite sign of respect and thoughtfulness which I totally appreciate. What bothers me most is the fact that I know better and yet I let my heart lead the way instead of my head. I let myself get in deeper than I should have without a net even though I knew I would fall. All the signs were there, I just chose not to read them.

Some would argue that following your heart is a good thing and I agree, it can be a good thing. But only when heart and head agree. When heart and head are not in agreement then following your head is a better course of action. Trust me on this, even though it is a lesson I apparently haven't learned yet.

So, it's almost 3 am, and I'm left wondering what to say, how to respond, what's right and healthy for me, what I want and need and can handle. Wondering when it's going to be my turn and for the love of God what do I have to do to finally get it right? Wondering why I even bother any more. For real, what's the fucking point if you're only going to get hurt? Again. And those, my friends, are answers I simply don't have right now.

I feel like a cliche of myself or maybe just a cliche in general. I'm that single friend who no one can figure out why she's still single. The truth is? She can't figure it out either. Everyone, including her, knows she deserves the best and yet the best never seems to appear. Or when it does appear it's unavailable. Everyone sees what a good person she is, including her, and yet still, nothing. Or more accurately no one. It's like there's some sort of curse that she (I) hasn't (haven't) figured out how to remove yet.

I also feel like a child throwing a tantrum because the phrase "It's not fair" keeps running through my head. The rational/adult part of me answers the child with "life isn't fair, get used to it." And the child responds with "I want my mommy!" I think that about sums it up.

Deep down I know I'll be fine. I always am. I've been through enough crap (heartbreak) in my life to know that. I will always come out the other side better and stronger. I'm a fighter. Right now though, it hurts. It's an open wound and it motherfuckinghurts. And a raw, open wound coupled with being angry with yourself makes for an unpleasant mix of emotions. And lots of snotty tears. Which would be why I now sit in bed with my laptop (puffy eyes, a damp shirt sleeve, and a headache) instead of sleeping.

Maybe now though the dreams will stop. The dreams in which it was so obvious that a part of my life was out of control. I would love for the dreams to stop for a while. Even a day or two would be heaven. To be able to lose myself in a deep, dreamless sleep for hours and hours on end would be amazing.

You'll have to excuse me if I disappear for a while. I'm going to need some time to lick my wounds and get my head together. And probably wallow, because let's face it, I'm me and I will need to wallow. And over think. Because who am I kidding, I'm totally going to think this thing to death and then some. But who knows, maybe I won't disappear at all. I don't think I even know that right now. I don't know much of anything right now other than once again my gut, instinct and intuition were right. Once, just once, I would like them to be wrong about something like this. And, um, hey Universe? I asked, believed and received just like you're supposed to. Is there a money back guarantee if what you ordered in fact turns out to be unavailable?

I guess in the end it's true what "they" say, timing is everything. Too bad my time ran out before it even started. I'm not tagging this post with any labels. The folks who know what I'm talking about already know the labels it should have. I'm also not giving it any lyrics. Sometimes, I just have to speak for myself.

And in the end I'm glad I asked the questions. In the end I'm glad I stood up for me. Glad I looked out for myself. I should have done it weeks ago. But at least I did it. Which, for me, is progress. And I suppose if there can be a silver lining, that's it.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-11-10T20:08:00.002-05:00

Happy dog.

Six degrees of...

2010-11-02T20:53:00.005-04:00

Recently I've been doing a lot of reminiscing and thinking about times long since passed. It's fun to remember the good things and it's also good to remember the bad and see how far you've come since those days (I have come a long way that's for sure!).

Today at work I had the most random memory. I'm not even sure what prompted it and I can usually trace these things back to something, some sort of trigger, but not today. And this memory is in no way related to anything I've been reminiscing about or pondering recently.

Anyway, today at work I randomly remembered Tyler. Back in 2002 Ms. Ex and I decided it was time to get a dog. We each spent hours and hours and hours combing through the dogs available for adoption on Petfinder. We knew we wanted to rescue rather than buy from a petstore or breeder and we agreed that we wanted a smaller dog rather than a huge dog. I'd never had a dog before. In fact until I was in my early 20s I was scared of dogs. Getting bit in the face by a dog when you're three will do that to you I suppose.

After a ridiculous number of hours combing through all the dogs within like a billion mile radius of where we were living at the time Ms. Ex finally found one she really wanted to see. His name was Tyler and he was at a no kill shelter about two hours from home and a bit over an hour from my parents house. I forget exactly how it all went down, but somehow we arranged a visit to the shelter and a visit to my parents for the same weekend.

Ms. Ex had grown up with a Welsh Terrier and really wanted another terrier type dog and Tyler definitely fit that bill even though he was a mix (a very cute mix, I'll give you that).

When we got to the shelter we were told we'd need to drive down the road to the house of the woman who ran the place because that's where Tyler was being kept. So, we got back in the car and followed her out the driveway only to have her pull over not too far down the road. She got out and walked over into the horse pasture across the road. Confused we sort of sat there until she walked back over to our car and asked us to please help her contain the horses while she went to get some wood to fix the broken fence.

Yes, that's right we stood in a horse pasture for an hour while waiting for her to get the materials and people to help her fix the fence. Because really, that's what we were there for and that's what you ask two complete fucking strangers to do on your way to seeing a dog they want to adopt. But stand there we did, bewildered the entire time.

After that detour we drove to her house where she was keeping god knows how many dogs in the garage. She led us around the back to her fenced in yard and asked us to wait while she got Tyler. A couple minutes later the door opened and out shot this small white ball of fur who proceeded to race around the yard. I bent down to try to pet him and he promptly leapt up and bit me square on the chin. He didn't break the skin thankfully.

We visited with him for a few minutes, but I'd already made up my mind this was definitely NOT the dog for me. He was far too hyper. And besides that he BIT me. I think the woman knew we wouldn't be taking him and she asked us to come see one other dog before we left. We agreed to humor her so back in our cars we got to drive back to the shelter to see this other dog. The one she thought would be far more suited to us.

When we got there she walked us past the goats and the pot belly pigs to the outdoor runs next to the cat house (literally a brick house which was home to all the stray cats). As we walked up we saw this small, mostly black dog climbing the fencing of her run. This was Joanie. This was the dog that the woman wanted us to see. I was already convinced this visit wasn't going to go well either. The woman leashed her up and led her out of the run and we all went to sit on the front steps of the cat house. Joanie sealed her fate then by sitting next to me and leaning her entire body gently against me before licking my ear.

Joanie had been rescued from a high kill shelter in West Virginia. She wasn't scheduled to be on the transport that brought her up to New York, but the volunteer who was pulling dogs managed to squeeze her in. She only had a few hours left to live and they just couldn't leave her there.

It was weeks before we were able to finally go get Joanie and bring her home with us. I won't go into those details, but this woman did not make it easy on us. At all. I won't speak ill of the dead, but I wonder if there might have been some hoarding tendencies there.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Joanie. She so loved her monkey toy.

Joanie was my first dog and as much as I wanted a dog it was a difficult adjustment for me. When she first came to live with us she loved to chew on my arms. I didn't particularly enjoy that. She wasn't trained in any way shape or form. She was head strong and stubborn (very much like both Ms. Ex and I in that regard). But we figured it out eventually and even though she ate my Aurora Shoes I still loved her.

I'm not sure when it was or how long it might have been after we adopted Joanie that I found out who had adopted Tyler, the dog who bit my chin upon first meeting me. Normally this wouldn't make for any story what so ever. Dogs get adopted into loving families all the time. Maybe it's your neighbor or the family two streets over or your coworker. Usually it's no one special.

Tyler though, he got a special family. He was adopted by Matchbox Twenty front man Rob Thomas and his wife Marisol. And this was the random memory I had today at work, Tyler biting me on the chin and how he then went on to live with a rock star. I spent a few minutes on Google during my lunch and discovered that Tyler went to the Rainbow Bridge last November. He'd been diagnosed with cancer in the summer and lived just as long as the doctors predicted he would.

I'm sad for the Thomas's and their loss, but I'm happy that Tyler got to have such an amazing seven years with them. Even if he did bite me on the chin. Every dog deserves to be adored by their humans.

Joanie lives with Ms. Ex now. I do miss her at times and wonder how she's doing (she has hip dysplasia and had surgeries on both knees after tearing the cruciate ligament in each of them), but my Maggie has my heart and soul (why yes I AM a crazy dog lady, how nice of you to notice). And though you might think splitting up the animals (who were our children) would have been one of the most difficult things that happened during the great breakup of 2006 through 2007 you'd be wrong. I was relieved when Ms. Ex said she wanted Joanie. I knew they were right for each other and that Maggie needed my care.

So, that's my story. And that's how I can connect myself to Rob Thomas in one move while playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. I can also connect myself in one move to John Meyer and Ani DiFranco, but those are through humans, not dogs.

No song tonight. Instead, if you have a dog (or a cat or bird or iguana or whatever) go give it some love and affection. Poor Maggie and the boys are about to get accosted. I hope they know what they're in for!

Touched by....

2010-10-15T22:53:00.006-04:00

So, that last blog post kind of threw me for a loop. It needed to be written and I'm still very glad I wrote it. But it left me unsettled and not feeling like myself for days after. When you dredge up things from your past which you've locked away and moved on from (in whatever manner and to whatever degree of success that was possible for you) it's sometimes hard to put them back in their nice locked cabinets in your brain until you've mulled them over for a while. Perhaps a long while. But, rest assured, they are locked up again. As they should be. The past is in the past and it shall stay that way.

My parents came to visit last weekend. That could be a whole other series of blog posts in and of itself, but it was good to see them. It's always good to see them. It was also tiring and I was already tired from all the over thinking I did after writing my last post so that made for a long weekend.

But, I ended the weekend by seeing Ingrid Michaelson in concert for a fifth time this year. It was the opening night of this tour so the set list was a little different than the previous four shows which was a nice change of pace. Although I did LOVE the other shows this year so I'd have been content with that set list too.

It's funny, I get this weird, inexplicable moment of sadness during a concert. Happens nearly every time I see live music, no matter the artist and no matter the venue. And it's not necessarily induced by a sad or maudlin song. It's just a wave of sadness sweeping over me for no identifiable reason. Very odd. This time it wasn't as severe as it has been at other shows which was great. But it was still there for that fleeting moment and as inexplicable as always.

Also great? Ingrid doing her a cappella cover of R.E.M.'s Nightswimming which is, by far, my favorite R.E.M. song. I have been waiting (hoping!) for her to do this in concert and was finally rewarded. It was amazing. Wait, see for yourself (the video is from her show a few days later, can't find a video from the show I was at):

Anyhow, during this song it started. Not the sad which I spoke of above, although there were tears in my eyes because I was so moved and so very happy to finally see this live. No, instead I could feel the music reaching out and wrapping itself around me, embracing me. It was like being completely enveloped in strong and loving arms. A feeling of love and protection and happiness, of everything being right in the world. I could feel the pressure of it surrounding me as I sat blissfully entranced.

It may sound crazy but it felt as though the Universe was hugging me, reassuring me I was right where I was supposed to be in my life. Wrapping it's warm arms around me and assuring me I was, indeed, on the right path. I think this is the sort of feeling that those who believe in God must feel when they say they've been touched by God. I can totally see how they'd think that even though I do not believe in God myself.

I needed that embrace from the Universe. Because sometimes (okay, maybe more than sometimes) I doubt myself. I doubt that I'm doing the right thing(s). And this not so subtle reassurance was very well timed indeed. It helped reinforce my belief that the Universe does indeed provide, we just have to continue to believe it will. And I do believe.

Words, though I adore them, can be so limiting sometimes. I cannot fully describe this feeling using only words. It's like the best hug of your life multiplied by joy and love and peace. Suffice it to say that I hope each and every one of you experiences this feeling at some point in your life. Because it is profound. Funny it should happen to me at a concert in a venue I'd never been to before instead of, oh, I don't know while sitting and contemplating life in Bar Harbor for instance. It's just another example of how amazing life can be. And how full of surprises.

And the night after the hug from the Universe? Well, that next night was awesome in it's own special way. I'm sitting here smiling just thinking about it. Nothing momentous happened that night. There were no earth shattering, mind blowing events. But it was great none the less. There was no place in the world I would rather have been than standing in Stalker's kitchen talking and watching her cook (and trying to stay out of her way).

So, thanks again for dinner Stalker, it was delicious and the company was fantastic as always. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, both inside and out. Which is why (besides the fact that I have never in my life known what to do with my hands) I tend to keep them firmly jammed in my pockets or my arms crossed when we're together. I want to make sure you have the time and the space you need to figure your stuff out and I don't want to fuck it up no matter how smitten I might be (and yes, I am indeed quite smitten) (also? Smitten is an awesome word which totally stops looking like a real word the more times you read it) (also also? I am a bit over tired and rambly now) (but that doesn't change the sentiment, still smitten!). So, while you were there washing dishes or whatever I was leaning against the refrigerator smiling a goofy smile and restraining myself from hugging you from behind.

Also? I'm horrible at making the first move. Just sayin', you know, to get it on record (for the entire world to see. Go me!). (Huh, apparently I get honest and over share when I get tired. Good to know.) Besides, the ball is still in your court and it can stay there as long as you need. All I ask, all I ever ask really, is that you're honest and open with me and I, in return, will be the same with you.

The song for this post is hard for me to choose. I mean obviously I could go with Nightswimming. But there are a couple others which stand out as equally appropriate and I'm going with one of those instead. For quite some time leading up to my trip to Bar Harbor I was rather addicted to this song. It might have been played on repeat for my entire commute to and from work some days. And of course it was one of my selections for the Bar Harbor 2010 playlist. So, I give you, the beginning of Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson (of course).

I don't believe in anything but myself
I don't believe in anything but myself
But then you opened up a door, you opened up a door
Now I start to believe in something else

But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And so it goes this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won.
And so it goes this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won.
But it can be won, but it can be won...

It gets better

2010-10-06T19:52:00.003-04:00

I've been thinking about this post for days now. What follows later in the post may surprise those of you who actually know me. The point of this post though is, as the title says, that it gets better. Let me repeat that, it gets better. And again, it gets better.

The recent string of suicides by gay teens due to bullying is appalling to me. Tyler Clementi (18), Billy Lucas (15), Asher Brown (13), Justin Aaberg (15) and Seth Walsh (13) didn't have to die. They'd barely even begun to live. I can't believe that our society hasn't put an end to bullying and harassment yet. How can we call ourselves civilized when we still allow this to happen??? It saddens me that these young men thought their only option was to end their lives.

After watching the videos below I knew I needed to share my story too. This is the most difficult and one of the most honest things I've ever written.

When I was a teen I was just about as far from self aware as you could get. In high school I knew I was different, but I never really knew why. Looking back now, I can remember sitting on my bed when I was 16 or 17 and thinking "I don't want to be gay, I just want to be normal." At the time though, this thought seemed completely out of the blue and just plain crazy talk and so I pushed it away and carried on with high school life. I mean, it was preposterous to think that I could be gay! No way! It was a couple more years before I started opening the closet door to myself. And slowly at that.

My freshman year in college was eye opening in so many ways. I left my barely a dot on the map hometown to go to a tiny woman's college where my freshman class was five times the size of my high school class (there were 27, yes twenty-seven, of us in my high school class). I was finally exposed to, among other things, different cultures, different socioeconomic upbringings, different philosophies, different religions, and of course different sexualities.

My coming out story is far from sensational. I am one of the lucky ones and for this I am grateful every day. My family has always been incredibly supportive of me. As have my friends. I was never bullied in school for being different or for being gay (not to say I wasn't teased because I certainly was and I don't think anyone can escape some form of teasing in school, but teasing and bullying are very different in my mind). I've never been scandalously outed. I've lived a very dull gay life, and again, I am grateful for that. I know I am one of the lucky ones.

Those of you who know me in real life know that while I am snarky and cynical I am also a pretty positive person. I can find the bright side in almost anything. I'm a firm believer in every day being a fresh start. My glass is usually more than half full. What you don't know about me is that I didn't always think it would get better (but it does get better, I promise).

I started coming out to myself when I fell madly in love with an upperclasswoman who lived next door to me in the dorm the second semester of my freshman year (we'll call her T). At first I didn't understand my fascination with her. She transfixed me. I was enthralled by her. I'd never before in my short life been so deeply under someone's spell. One night we were in her dorm room and T pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. A very deep, very meaningful kiss. And that was when the light went off for me.

It would be untrue for me to say that moment was when I completely understood myself, because I didn't and I wouldn't for many years yet. But it was a very defining moment in my life, perhaps the defining moment. A point of no return if you will.

T and I embarked on what would turn into about two years of a ridiculously complicated, codependent (on my part) and somewhat emotionally abusive (on her part) relationship. I call it a relationship, who the hell knows what she might call it. I was probably more of a nuisance to her than anything else. She was, after all, straight. And she had a boyfriend. But she still slept with me.

During these two years of my life is when I first started to think about suicide. Yes, that's right I've thought, very seriously, about suicide. I've never attempted it, but I have, most definitely, thought about it many (many) times. Because I didn't think it would get better. Because I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Because I didn't feel like anyone could possibly understand me or what I was going through. Everything was so dark and heavy and my not existing anymore just seemed like the easiest way to deal with it all. You can't hurt if you don't exist right?

As I said earlier, I'm one of the lucky ones. I've been so incredibly lucky to have such wonderful support my entire life and yet I've still contemplated ending it on various occasions. What must people who haven't had this support feel like? How do the kids (and adults for that matter) who are harassed and bullied feel? I can't even imagine. It sends chills down my spine.

In some respects I think those of us who are positive in our outlooks are more at risk for suicide (personal opinion only here, not basing this on statistics or facts, just opinion). We're the ones you'd never suspect are weighing which option for offing ourselves is best as we give you our bright smiles (which don't always reach our eyes). Should I slit my wrists or should I try to drown myself or should I jump out a window, etc., etc., etc... Smile, smile, smile as brightly as possible!

We roll these thoughts over and over in our head until they seem so abstractly concrete they confuse even us as we seek clarity in our muddy muddled thoughts. College isn't the only time I've thought about saying the hell with it all and ending it. During the 18 months it took for Ms. Ex and I to end our relationship I'll admit the thought crossed my mind a time or two. And then the thought came creeping in again when I hit the absolute rock bottom lowest point in my life six months after we were finally through. Once you let the kernel of "it would just be easier for everyone if I wasn't around anymore" into your head it's really hard to let go of it.

You keep suicide in the back of your mind as an option in case it gets worse. And you never know what might make it actually BECOME worse. It's never the big stuff which makes it worse, it's the little stuff like the grocery store being out of your favorite potato chips or not being able to rent the movie you were looking forward to or someone not saying "bless you" when you sneeze at the office. You're trapped inside that incredibly dark tunnel without a light to guide you out. The walls press in on you and though your hands might be stretched out searching for something, anything, to grab hold of, you can't find it. You're there alone in the heavy darkness spinning in circles until it just becomes too much and you crumple to a heap on the ground. There isn't anyone there standing beside you lighting a match or a lighter or holding a candle or a flashlight or the iPhone flashlight app and taking your hand to lead you out.

That's what I think about when I hear about the Tyler Clementis and the Asher Browns and the Seth Walshes. I think about that feeling of hopelessness, helplessness and despair because I've been there. I've been crumpled in a heap on the floor of that dark tunnel unable to see anyway out.

The only difference between us is that I made a deal with myself that I have to sleep on it before I do anything. And if it's not a little bit better in the morning then I can think about it again. It's always been better in the morning. Maybe it's not much better in the morning, but it's always a little better and it's been enough. And it gets better every day. The point is it does get better. It always gets better.

I'm glad I'm still here to experience my life. I have known so much joy. I've gotten to experience so many wonderful things. And I know I have a lifetime's worth of amazing things still to come. I can't wait to live them all. Life IS good no matter how corny that might sound. And for those of you who know me and might be worried, don't. I love my life and I'm in no way, shape or form even standing in that dark tunnel. And if ever I am there again at any point in my life I know now that it gets better. And I know I can reach out and find a hand in the dark to help guide me out.

The tears are rolling down my cheeks as I write this. It's cathartic and yet dredges up all these dark and tangled emotions from my past. Things I've chosen not to think about for years and years have floated to the surface and they still hurt, they still take me back to those dark places in my life, to the inside of that dark tunnel where I felt helpless, hopeless and alone. But even though it still hurts, even though I know these things will be with me forever, I also know that it gets better. And I also know that I had to go through them to become the person I am today. They made me stronger and for that I am grateful.

If you'd sat me down when I was 15 and told me what my life would be like when I was 35 I would never have believed you. No way in hell could it be possible that I'd be a 35 year old lesbian with two cats and a dog living alone in a house I own in Connecticut (of all places!!!) who sits at a desk all day at work dealing with data. None of this was on my radar at all when I was 15 (except maybe the cats, maybe). And I love every last bit of my life now. It's rich and full and all mine to live.

If you're contemplating suicide or just feel isolated and alone there are resources available to you. All it takes is being a little brave and reaching out. There are people there who want nothing more than to help you. There are people there to take your hand in that dark tunnel and walk you toward the light. The Trevor Project is a place to start.

You have too much to look forward to in life to end it. Don't you want to find out what's next? Don't you want to go to college? Or fall madly in love? Or travel around the world? Or find a cure for cancer or AIDS or some other debilitating disease? Or maybe you want to write a novel or a hit song or learn to fly a plane or how to build an ark or whatever it is that you want to do?

There are so many people waiting to meet you, waiting to see your next painting, read your next poem, listen to you sing, watch you dance or score a goal or a touchdown or simply sit down with you and laugh over coffee or tea or hot chocolate. We're there cheering you on as you strive to reach the goals you set for yourself. We are out there. And we love you for who you are. There's only one you and that is an incredibly special thing. Be the best you that you can be because nobody else can be you. Hold you head high, be proud of who you are, be strong. And know you are not alone.

It gets better, trust me I've been there. I know. It gets better.

Vacation in photos

2010-10-05T20:17:00.014-04:00

I have at least three different posts I could write tonight. But it was a long day at work. And then traffic was ridiculous coming home. And I'm too tired to put in the thought and effort that the other posts deserve so what follows is my vacation in pictures.

I've been back from vacation for what feels like months now, but is really only about a week and a half. I spent a wonderful week on Mt. Desert Island in Maine with a couple friends. MDI is home to Acadia National Park and the little town of Bar Harbor. And it's one of my very favorite places. I feel at peace there; there's not much more to say about it than that.

These are only a few of the 700+ photos I took. Yes, I am that person. I totally own it.

YO HO! We started our trip by going to a lumberjack show. Timber Tina was a bit intimidating.

Playing on the rocks and looking back toward Sand Beach. I love this part of Acadia.

Time spent at Wonder Land is time well spent.

We were told of, and found, a very awesome cave. Mr. A shown for scale.

Inside the cave we saw sea anemones, crabs, snails and starfish. And I nearly slide down the rocks which would have caused me to get swept out with the tide. Or maybe just completely soaked.

This year we decided to see sunset on Cadillac Mountain instead of getting up for sunrise.

I put myself to the test this year.

I literally have nightmares about things like this.

But the view was totally worth the fear.

This is where we sat at night to watch the stars.

Until next time Bar Harbor, jazz hands!

Good things come to those who wait

2010-09-12T20:06:00.004-04:00

I do believe the old adage is true. Good things do indeed come to those who wait. I've found that to be quite true in my own life and I've seen it happen with friends as well. What I don't believe is that waiting means sitting around for ages doing nothing.

Waiting really means doing things you want to do, things you enjoy doing and being with friends and family while knowing that the good thing you are waiting for will appear in it's own time. Waiting is making forward progress in other aspects of your life even though the one thing you're waiting for hasn't yet appeared. Waiting is living and being happy while knowing it'll all happen in it's own time.

I think the good thing I've been waiting for for so long has appeared. No, I don't think it, I know it. And I'm happy. Very happy. Which is awesome and kind of freaks me out too because I haven't felt this way in a long time. Mostly it's awesome though with just a small side of freak out.

What this happiness has taught me (or retaught me since I already knew all this, but you know, forgot it. Again.) is that my instincts are always correct. That my gut knows best. That I will know when I know. That you can't force something that isn't there and that you shouldn't force it because that which doesn't have to be forced is a thousand times more enjoyable. And is right instead of maybe just close enough to right not to be wrong.

And what I know also is that nothing has to be rushed. Back in the day when I was a young and foolish girl I had a lot to learn about life and about myself. I was constantly trying to fit square pegs into round holes because I thought, well who the hell knows exactly what I thought really. Pretty sure I didn't even know what I thought back then. But those square pegs never really fit into those round holes but I'd pretend they did anyway. All in the name of being "happy."

I'm done with that kind of forcing something to fit. I'm done trying to make things work that won't work. I'm done with wasting my time on something or someone I'm not sure about. So, if you see me often or interact with me in some other way often you can rest assured that I like you. If I didn't I would somehow disappear from your life. Why waste either of our time right?

Sometimes things just feel right. Like everything has finally clicked into place and it's cozy and comfortable and just right. That's an amazing feeling. The older I've gotten the more I believe that the line from Jerry McGuire "you complete me" is a huge crock of Hollywood bullshit which has probably scarred a generation of women. I don't need anyone to complete me, I'm complete on my own. What I do need is someone who complements me and who makes those things click into place for me. It's been feeling very right lately for me. I adore that feeling.

All this to say that I met someone I really like. We'll call her Stalker since everyone on this blog must have a nickname apparently. Hopefully Stalker won't mind her nickname since I find the stalking quite endearing really. I like a woman who does her homework and who keeps up with it. Stalker has read/reads my blog so everyone, *wave* and say hi to Stalker! Oh god, where was I? Right, Stalker makes those things click for me, a feeling I haven't had in years. Which is both incredible and terrifying at the same time. But one day at a time right? Focus on the good and not on the "holy shit!"

So, Stalker, I don't care if you're messy right now. I don't care that you have work issues to deal with or a schedule/job which forces you to stay close to home a lot. I don't care who does the driving to see whom or who buys dinner or whatever. I just want to spend time with you. And it doesn't have to be anything more than simply spending time together until you want it to be more than that or are ready for it to be more than that. If you do want it to be more than that. I shouldn't make assumptions should I? I'm not going anywhere either way. I'll follow your lead. Just know I'm content to be spending time with you whether it's only a couple hours or half a day (literally half the day, as in 12 hours, or more even) (why I felt the need to clarify that I have no idea) (just go with me on it okay?) (thanks). If you want more than that, well, I'm not going to turn you down. ;-)

Now, I'm not writing this to freak you out Stalker. I really don't think there's anything you should be freaked out by. If I'm wrong there and I have freaked you out please let me know. I'm writing this because I'm happy and I promised myself that I'd blog not only when I'm feeling morose but also, and most especially, when I'm happy. And I am. Happy that is. Apparently I'm also rambling now. Wonderful. Moving on. Still happy though!

The lyrics for this post are from a song which I love for the ridiculously happy feeling it exudes. I have a wee bit of trouble with one of the words in it though since it's also the name of my big orange cat, Sunshine. If you replace the happy image of that word with the image of my cat it TOTALLY changes the meaning of the song. Hi, tangent, so nice to see you again!

Anyway, I give you Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves. And, Stalker, don't take this to mean anything other than I'm happy okay? Don't read into it. ;-)

I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait 'til the day when you knock on my door
Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down
'Cause I just can't wait 'til you write me you're coming around

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
And don't it feel good!

Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!
Hey yeah

I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it's true
And I don't want to spend my whole life just waiting for you
Now I don't want you back for the weekend
Not back for a day, no no no
I said baby I just want you back and I want you to stay
Oh yeah now!

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
and don't it feel good!

Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!
Yeah, oh yeah
And don't it feel good!

Walking on sunshine
Walking on sunshine

I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real

I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm on sunshine baby oh

I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah

And don't it feel good!
All right now
And don't it feel good
I'll say it again now
And don't it feel good!
And don't it feel good!

Rainy Sunday

2010-08-22T18:50:00.004-04:00

When I sat down to blog tonight I thought I was going to write a different post than the one that follows. I'll save that post for another time.

Today is a rainy Sunday. As in it's pretty much rained non-stop all day today. Which is wonderful because it hasn't rained to speak of in probably months. My lawn was very crunchy when I walked across it yesterday. Grass shouldn't crunch. I can almost hear my neighbor's garden sighing in ecstasy from all the rain.

I actually love a good rainy day. I feel like it forces me to slow down and I can actually not feel guilty for relaxing all day. Of course it being Sunday and all I had to run an errand and grocery shop, but that never takes long (as an aside, how the hell can I spend $75 on groceries and come home with hardly any food??) so I've had pretty much the entire day to just do nothing.

Back when Ms. Ex and I were together we'd spend days like this watching bad movies or bad TV or football in the fall. And days like today I miss having someone on the other side of the couch watching bad movies with me. I'm not missing Ms. Ex mind you, just missing having that someone special here with me relaxing the day away.

Someone who might decide to bake some cookies or make some brownies for us to enjoy as a mid afternoon snack. Someone who will enjoy a good cheesy chick flick with me while I knit and she, well, does whatever sort of thing she enjoys doing while watching a movie. Someone who wants to read in bed for a while after first waking up.

It's those little things that I want. And miss. I love living alone most of the time mind you. In fact I pretty much adore it. But there are times, there are days like today, when the quiet comfort of the company of someone you love and who loves you would just make the day a little better. A little more full.

And poor Maggie didn't get a walk today. In fact she asked to go out at one point and when I opened the door for her she went out onto the step, saw how hard it was raining and turned around and wanted to come right back inside. Good thing we took an extra long and tiring walk/hike yesterday or she'd be very restless today.

All in all it's good that today was a day for relaxation and doing nothing. I've got a busy week ahead of me at work and I'm anticipating being rather tired in the evenings. I'd love to be wrong about that, but I don't think I will be.

No song for this post. I just plain don't feel like figuring out something that fits. Because I'm relaxing, watching a movie and listening to it rain. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday evening if you ask me.

On the subject of nothing really...

2010-08-09T20:19:00.004-04:00

I sat down to blog not knowing what I wanted to write about. I still don't really, but when in doubt make a list!

1. I cannot wait to go back to here:

Picture it at night with what seems like billions of stars twinkling in the sky and a cocktail in your hand and friends at your side. It's a slice of heaven.

2. I realize I often blog when I'm most introspective instead of when I'm just content or happy. Changing that today, not introspective at all. Happy and content and still blogging!

3. Yesterday I met a little girl named Isabella Abbie. She was probably about three years old. She totally denied knowing her mother or her little brother even though we saw the whole family walk into the park together. Her father explained that we were talking to her alter ego named Millie. Yeah. I would love to meet this girl again in a few years. And then like every five years to see how she progresses in life. I wonder how long Millie will stay around. Also? Her mom (the one who busted out little Isabella Abbie's full name to try to get her attention on more than one occasion)? Might have been mortified when Isabella Abbie announced to us that she had a poopie problem. You just never know what you're going to see in a park in Northampton, but I wouldn't change that for the world. It was an excellent and very fun way to spend an afternoon.

4. Refer to number one above. I don't want to wish the summer away at all. In fact I wish we had another month or two of it. It's already getting dark earlier than I'd like it to. But I am so ready to go on vacation. I cannot wait to hop in the car and head back up to Bar Harbor.

5. Why haven't I bothered finishing the hats I knit that are literally 9/10ths or more done and just sitting waiting for me to finish them?

6. Huh. I thought I had more to say when I started writing.

7. There are a lot things going on in my head right now but none of them need to be blogged about.

8. My friend Kim and I e-mail quite frequently. A while back when we were both a little down I suggested that at the end of every e-mail we list three things we're grateful for on that particular day. We've been really good about doing it so far. Some days it's harder to think of things than others, but you know what? When you think of those little things that you're grateful for (like a piece of chocolate or a good cup of coffee or even that the bill you got in the mail was for less than you expected) it really helps turn your perspective from negative to positive. There are sooooo many wonderful things in this world (life really is good when you boil it all down). We take a lot of the good things for granted at times. By acknowledging them it's easier to see all the good in the world. Focus on the positive and the positive finds you. I'm glad Kim and I started doing this. I hope we can keep it up. I know it's been really helpful for me.

9. Life is full of little surprises. I've been smiling a lot lately (smiling's my favorite! Gratuitous Elf reference, sorry.). And smiling just makes your whole being feel good, head to toe, mind, body and soul. Thank you for making me smile. And laugh. And for just being you. (Why hello vagueness, how nice to see you again.)

10. I have been extremely social lately. Sooooo unlike me (who is a classic introvert) and I think it's been exactly what I needed. So, a big thanks to everyone who has been social with me. You're all collectively awesome. And you matter to me. Thanks for being in my life.

11. And because I can, a gratuitous Maggie picture:

You may think this picture is all "the better to eat you with my dear" but it's really "I'm not a big fan of that thing you stick in front of your face which might or might not steal my soul so I'm going to try to make you calm down by licking my lips." At least she doesn't run and hide from the camera anymore. Only took four and a half years. I'd say that's progress.

So, I was hoping by the time I got to this point I'd have figured out the song for this post. Yeah, not so much with that. Firing up the iTunes now, putting it on shuffle and seeing what I get. I'd just like to point out that iTunes tells me it would take 49 days to listen to all my music. Interesting. Also? I have a HUGE urge to go iTunes shopping right now. Time for new music for sure. One can never own enough good music.

Right then. Lyrics. Shuffle wasn't my friend tonight. Unless you all want Suzanne Vega's Luka stuck in your head for the rest of the night. No? Then you're welcome. And since I can't come up with anything on my own, You get Get Out The Map by the Indigo Girls instead. Because shuffle made me do it. Or led me to it. Both sort of apply.

The saddest sight my eyes can see
Is that big ball of orange sinking slyly down the trees
Sitting in a broken circle while you rest upon my knee
This perfect moment will soon be leaving me

Suzanne calls from Boston the coffee's hot the corn is high
And that same sun that warms your heart will suck that good earth dry
With everything it's opposite enough to keep you crying
Or keep this old world spinning with a twinkle in its eye

Get out the map, get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We'll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
I'm gonna clear my head, I'm gonna drink that sun
I'm gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young

Joni left for South Africa a few years ago
And then Beth took a job all the way over on the West Coast
And me I'm still trying to live half a life on the road
I'm heavier by the year and heavier by the load

Why do we hurtle ourselves through every inch of time and space
I must say around some corner I can sense a resting place
With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face
We'll amuse ourselves one day with these memories we'll trace

Get out the map, get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We'll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
I'm gonna clear my head, I'm gonna drink that sun
I'm gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young

Lilith Fair

2010-08-02T15:02:00.005-04:00

I'm going to cheat for this post and copy an e-mail I sent to someone about my experience at Lilith yesterday. It's everything I want to talk about and it's already written. Be forewarned, it's kind of long. I will at least change names to protect the innocent. ;-) Without further ado:

Hi,
I realized last night as I was driving home from the show that I have plans tonight after work so I figured I'd e-mail you my Lilith adventures rather than try to squeeze in a rushed phone call while driving. The length of this e-mail shows why I couldn't possibly text it all.

So, Francesca and I arrive a little after 4:30 (show started at 3 or 3:30 I think, but she had a family obligation and neither of us were real keen on the first couple performers). We were walking around and were already chatting about how we're probably being viewed as a couple even though we aren't a couple. There was joking about how she needs a sign that says she's straight, but, you know, open minded and also single and I needed one that says I'm gay and single. Or signs that say "we're together, but not, you know, together."

We wandered around trying to figure out who was playing on what stage and when and where exactly the second stage was set up. We'd figured that part out and headed over to catch the very last song Beth Orton was playing. As we're standing there I look over and I see someone I recognize which usually doesn't happen. She sees me at the same time and came over to chat. It was Ms. Ex's friend Jen from college who lives in upstate NY. Needless to say I was confused at why she was there and I hadn't seen her in at least three and a half years (but I kid you not when I say she looks EXACTLY the same).

After introducing her to Francesca I asked her if she was there alone and she said no and waved over the women she was with. And wouldn't you know it one of the women she was with is a woman I'd been out on two dates with last fall named Judy. Jen proceeds to introduce me to Judy and we do the smile and nod awkwardly at each other thing. I have NO idea what the names of the other two women are because all I'm thinking about now is how to get out of the awkward Judy situation and am starting to wonder if perhaps Ms. Ex is there and Jen was just being polite and didn't mention it to me knowing we broke up.

Since Beth Orton's set was now over Francesca and I were like "well, we want to walk around and look at vendors since we just got here, bye!" and we walked away. Now, on my first date with Judy I ran into Francesca while waiting for Judy to arrive. She sat down to chat with me while I waited and so was there when Judy got there. So, Judy and Francesca met then. Then, after I sent Judy the "it was fun, but I think we'd be better friends than girlfriends" e-mail after our second date (to which I got no response) Francesca and I ran into her again at a Roller Derby bout. It was awkward, very awkward. Pretty sure Judy thinks Francesca and I are dating since this is now three times I've seen her and have been with Francesca. I can only imagine what the conversation was like with Judy and Jen after Francesca and I walked away. AND I have NO idea how Jen and Judy even know each other because Judy is firmly in the CT lesbian scene and Jen is from NY even though she used to spend a lot of time down in New Haven. I'm still confused by all that.

Anyway, I am now totally on the lookout for anyone else I might know (meaning mostly Ms. Ex). We find the little stage where Nneka is doing a couple songs and we listen to her perform then walk around for a little while (and get a drink so I can shake off the awkwardness of running into Judy. Again.) as we wait for Missy Higgins to come on. At some point we walk by one of my co-workers (and who I assume is her girlfriend from what I've heard through the grapevine) but she doesn't see me in the crowd.

We watch Missy Higgins as I'm studiously avoiding running into Jen again so as not to awkwardly run into Judy. We head up to the main stage to see Ingrid Michaelson. Ingrid is amazing of course (as are Bess Rogers and Allie Moss, part of her band). I wanted her set to go on and on. I saw my co-worker and her girlfriend come in and take seats while Francesca and I are standing as close as us folks with lawn seats can get. After Ingrid was Sara Barellis who was also fantastic. After Sara we went to find a bathroom at which point I saw someone else I knew from work and stopped to chat for a minute.

When we came back from the bathroom we noticed that the venue staff who were guarding the gates so us measly lawn ticket holders couldn't get into the empty seats were gone and that people were starting to come down from the lawn and take seats. We of course did the same thing and managed to get decent seats in the front row of the center of the back section. From there we watched Cat Power who was totally wasted on the crowd. It was too bad because she was really good.

By this time I'm feeling pretty good about my chances of running into anyone else. I mean, we've been there for hours and have been walking around and I feel pretty confident if I was going to run into anyone else it would have happened already. And also I'm not horribly sunburned like I was at Lilith in 1997 and this is an amazing thing (oh the tan lines from that day!). During a break my co-worker who was seated in front of us was looking around and I got her attention and waved, but we didn't chat.

About halfway through the Indigo Girls set I get a text message. From Ms. Ex. It basically said "So I heard you're here. What's going on with Dish Network?" I told you about my two hours on hold with them on Friday right? I replied "Yes, I am here" and from there ensued the where are you sitting, do you want to see me texts. Apparently she had also run into her friend Jen who told her that I was there.

For reasons I could not understand at the time the directions to where I was sitting confused the hell out of Ms. Ex. I had my eye out for her figuring she'd make her way down since people were pretty much walking around freely regardless of what kind of ticket they had. Francesa was feeling weird about meeting my ex and was on the lookout for her even though she doesn't know what she looks like. We had the "I wonder if Jen and Judy told her we were a couple" conversation.

Meanwhile I'm still texting with Ms. Ex to explain where we were sitting. She finally "got it" and told me she was on the sidewalk. There are a ton of sidewalks so I told her I'd find her after the set. She told me she was wearing, and I do indeed quote verbatim here, a "strip shirt." As though 1) I wouldn't remember what she looks like and 2) it would help me find her because clearly I don't remember what a women I lived with for 9 years looks like and 3) really? a strip shirt?? She meant striped of course, but still.

I got up (leaving Francesca safely in her seat) and found Ms. Ex after the set. There's an awkward hug which she wants to last longer and I don't and I can smell the cheap beer oozing out of her. I should point out here that I am stone cold sober and have been allllll day even after the one drink I had eariler. The drunkness explains why she couldn't understand my directions to where we were sitting. We then proceed to "catch up" for a few minutes.

She hasn't changed a bit (other than the weight gain) and it's wonderful to have that reinforced. I never liked the way she got when she drank. Smarmy is the only word I can think of to describe it. I can tell she wants me to tell her everything about me and my life and I won't/don't. She gets a few details about my cats and dog and she tells me how my former dog is doing. We chat about my Dish Network issues and family and that's about it. I say I have to get back and she says "they" are about to leave and she doesn't want to miss her ride (god I really hope she wasn't driving after all the drinking). She tells me I look good, I say thanks and walk back to Francesca.

Luckily that ended my run ins for the night. We watched Sarah McLachlan's set in peace and really enjoyed the final encore where Sarah brings the other artists on stage to sing with her. They did a cover of "Because the Night" which was amazing and worth staying for. Traffic was a breeze so we were able to get out of there pretty quickly. And that, apparently, is what it's like to go to the Lilith Fair with me. It honestly never occured to me that I would see so many people I knew there (and I'm sure there were more that I missed).

Also, see why I couldn't text all that? Hope you had a good (and less eventful) Sunday and that your Monday is off to a good start. And thanks again for the anti-rain dance. It was a gorgeous day.

Jess

Here's a recap video of Lilith. My favorite part is the end where Sarah McLachlan needs the lyrics to sing with the Indigo Girls.

Also watch this video. Not as awesome as last night's version, but still pretty good.

I guess since this is a Lilith Fair post it's only right to post Sarah McLachlan lyrics. From I Will Remember You (or the "puppies are DYING because you aren't adopting them you bad BAD person" commercial song as it's now known):

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us when things got bad
How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one

On burnout

2010-07-27T18:45:00.004-04:00

Today was my first day back to work after 11 glorious days off. Vacation is an amazing thing and I am so grateful that I have a job which provides me with a very generous amount of vacation time. I realize this is a luxury and for once I took full advantage of it by not logging in to work to check e-mails (usually I say I'm not going to but then I do anyway).

I read four or five books. Knit a couple hats. Watched the entire first season of Bones, plus finished watching Charmed (the first seasons were so much better than the last few), watched a bunch of movies, slept in, went back to bed some mornings to sleep more, did some shopping, oh and of course went to Maine for a few days. I needed all of that. Very very badly.

Today at work wasn't as bad as I was expecting. All hell did not break loose for a change which is usually what happens when I go on vacation. I only had about 380 e-mails to deal with which was fewer than I was expecting. There were no huge crises and no frantic voicemails. In fact, I didn't have a single voice mail waiting for me. I spent the morning catching up on the doings in the office while I was gone (yes, it did take most of the morning, I work with a lot of people and there's a lot going on right now). And I even managed to get my inbox down to a reasonable number of items to deal with tomorrow.

Before I get to the point of this post I should note that I like my job. At least for the most part. There are parts I don't enjoy, but really, who doesn't have at least some part of their job that they don't like? I'm not challenged by it all day every day, but I think I'm okay with that. I really like the people I work with. Again, at least for the most part. I think the work we do is valuable and that means a lot to me.

Now, my point. I decided on my drive home tonight that I'm burned out. Let me (or should I say the dictionary program on my laptop) define burn out for you:

burnout |ˈbərnˌout|
noun
1 the reduction of a fuel or substance to nothing through use or combustion : good carbon burnout | [as adj. ] a burnout furnace.
2 physical or mental collapse caused by overwork or stress : high levels of professionalism that may result in burnout | you'll suffer a burnout.
• informal a dropout or drug abuser, esp. a teenage one.
3 failure of an electrical device or component through overheating : [with adj. ] an antistall mechanism prevents motor burnout.

Number 2 above fits me to a t. I honestly am not sure how much longer I can keep my head above water. No, that's not exactly right. I can always keep my head above water. It's more like I'm not sure how much longer I can go on before I snap. Before something gives. And I don't want that something to be my sanity. And it every day it feels more and more like that's what IS going to give.

I should not leave work (an hour after quitting time) on the first day after a vacation with a headache, the stress chest I had before vacation, and near tears. I should still be basking in the beauty and relaxation that is vacation. To be honest I was fighting back wracking sobs of, I don't exactly know, frustration?, stress?, dissatisfaction?, while Maggie and I were walking this evening. I mean the tears were leaking out of my eyes, my nose was all snotty and I was really really hoping not to run into any of my neighbors because I'm pretty confident that they'd be able to tell something was wrong and yeah, not sure the "oh, just a little allergy attack" response would have fooled either of us. Pretty sure that's not normal. Or good.

Maybe it's just reentry into work like after so many days off. Maybe I'm dehydrated. Maybe the stars are aligned all funny or something. I know it's not hormones. Most likely I'm simply burned out. And now that I've admitted it I need to do something about it. Take some sort of step(s) to fix it. I'm just not sure what that step(s)
is yet.

So, lyrics. Right then. Can't think of a burnout song so, we're going to go with some tried and true Rent. Because, well a) it's Rent and b) it's also fitting for my non-work life (Mark, Mark, I'm Mark!) and c) it's been stuck in my head for days now. From Goodbye Love:

Mark: Hey, for somebody who's always been let down
who's heading out of town?

Roger: For someone who longs for a community of his own,
who's with his camera, alone?

I'm so bad at titles

2010-07-21T22:56:00.005-04:00

I'm also apparently bad at blogging lately. I'd like to tell you it's because I'm journaling and therefore don't need to blog, but really I've just been lazy (and totally exhausted after work) and not making the effort I should be making. So, here's me making the effort.

I'm on vacation. Vacation is amazing and I was very overdue for one. I'm really not sure where the months of May and June went. Or even the beginning of July. I think I spent pretty much all of them at work. Which is tiring, especially after a long winter and spring at work. So, yeah, I was more than ready for some time off.

I was in Maine for a few days this week. I love Maine. Let me repeat. I. LOVE. MAINE. I fantasize about moving there. In my fantasy world I just sort of pick up the life I have here in Connecticut and plop it down on a scenic coastal town. The exact location in Maine isn't all that important so long as there's easy access to a beach for me to walk on. Because this:

makes me incredibly happy. And peaceful. And centered.

My last evening in Maine we had an amazing thunderstorm. I've always loved a good storm and where we stay we had a nearly perfect view of the storm for about 180 degrees. Lightening was flashing all around us and I was as delighted by it as a toddler to whom everything is new and exciting. And yes, I did clap my hands like said toddler when a particularly brilliant bolt of lightening sizzled through the sky. If I could have been standing out in the middle of the marsh watching the storm I would have been.

My mother watched most of the storm with me. She also likes a good storm, though the really amazing flashes of lightening tended to make her move away from the sliding door through which we were watching the storm. I, on the other hand, leaned even more forward so as not to miss a single streak of lightening flashing through the sky. I might have left forehead prints on the glass. I will neither confirm nor deny this. I don't know what I find so refreshing about storms, but they totally recharge me. I find them incredibly powerful and romantic (that's a topic for a whole other post I suppose).

I can't wait to go back to Maine (though a different part) in September. I have a feeling I will definitely need another recharge by then. I'm looking very much forward to sitting next to the water at night (with or without a drink or three) and watching the stars. There may or may not be deep and meaningful conversation involved. That probably depends on how many drinks are imbibed. Regardless, I'm looking very forward to it.

The rest of this current vacation is being spent at home. Which is also great because I missed my dog terribly. And my cats too of course. But really, cats are so much more independent than dogs so I don't worry about them as much when I leave. I worry about Maggie. More than I should probably admit to, but I don't care. It was fantastic to come home to a happy dog and cats who missed me (even if that does make sleeping difficult for the first night because everyone has to be as close as possible to me in bed. And also Sunshine HAS to bathe right next to me as I start to fall asleep. Happens EVERY time I'm away from home for even one night. Trying to fall asleep to the slurping sounds of a cat bath is not easy for me who can hear a pin drop in freaking Bermuda when I'm trying to fall asleep. I always have to kick him off the bed once or twice in order to get to sleep. It's our routine. We both understand this is going to happen and we both pretend like we don't know it's going to.).

Thus far on vacation I've read three books (started a fourth today) and have done pretty much nothing. I'm really trying to stick with the relaxing and doing only little, easy projects this vacation. I want to enjoy it not and enjoy my house (see previous post about that). We'll see how the next five days go. I have a feeling I'm going to get antsy soon, but we'll see.

So, there's my update for now. Time for bed since my eyes are burning and the yawning is getting out of hand. Looking forward to yet another no alarm clock morning tomorrow. And because I'm on vacation, well, there's no song for today. Because when one is on vacation one is allowed to be lazy and I'm doing my best to embrace my inner laziness. And as I wrote about there being no song for this post Annie Lennox's Why popped up on the radio. Fitting.

Home sweet home

2010-07-02T10:59:00.003-04:00

I realized recently that for the past six years I have either:

- been looking for a house to buy
- been in the process of buying said house
- been moving from one house to another
- been fixing up said house

And really, you can probably go back another three years to include the condo since that required re-painting, finishing the basement, new fixtures and some gardening.

So, for at least six (and perhaps nine depending how you count) years I haven't simply enjoyed where I lived. There was always something else going on whether it was going to see new potential places to live or dealing with mortgage companies and movers or going home, putting on grungy clothes and getting down to it (whatever 'it' happened to be that week, taming an over grown garden, ripping down wallpaper, painting, etc., etc., etc.).

Can I just say my god that's tiring y'all? All that work with only a little play wears a person out. Oh, and of course there was also working at my job full time while trying to advance my career thrown on top of all that.

I still have a ways to go in my current house before it's "done." But most of what's left to do are the big projects (re-doing the kitchen and the poodle bathroom, new windows, etc.). And for those big projects you typically need big money and I simply do not have it. I barely have the little money some days let alone big money.

That means I'm at the point now where I get to sit back, relax and enjoy my house. Only I don't know how to do that without feeling guilty for not DOING something. I will sit on my couch after a very long day at work and think "I should be doing something. Why am I not DOING something?!" And I'm not even Catholic. Can you imagine the guilt then? Oy!

I'm trying to let the guilt go. I'm trying to not see all the little imperfections I need to deal with. I'm trying to ignore the 3,000 miles of trim I still need to paint and the bare walls which need art hung in the guest room and the family room. I'm trying to ignore the back "flower beds" which are overrun with grass and weeds. But it's hard to do. The lack of motivation to deal with these things helps a bit, but that ebbs and flows and the guilt, the guilt is always there.

So, this long holiday weekend I'm going to do my best to enjoy my home. To enjoy it guilt free. To do the fun things (as well as some not as fun things like vacuuming, I abhor vacuuming). We'll see how it goes, but you have to start somewhere right?

I'm going to be lazy and not bother with a "house" song for this post. Go ahead and hum the national anthem to yourself. "Oh, say can you see...."

Update

2010-06-19T01:29:00.002-04:00

In case you were wondering, I decided to live in the present and let the past stay in the past. It was the right thing to do and I'm glad I did. I guess in the land of the Bard I would have chosen "to be" over "not to be." But again, that was someone else's question, not mine.

Coincidence or a sign?

2010-06-17T21:04:00.004-04:00

Last night I had a dream about FMHW (who is, for those new to the blog, my last girlfriend and somewhat the reason I started baring my soul on the interwebs). I use those initials (which are not her initials) to protect her anonymity. Because I'm thoughtful like that. And because really, the point is not who she is exactly, merely that she is at all.

Right then, the dream. Last night I dreamed I was with a couple friends on vacation. We stopped in to this tiny little mom and pop restaurant (I'm talking like 5 tables total) for dinner. We were seated and low and behold but who should be at the next table, the one directly beside me? Yeah, FMHW. She was wearing a white t-shirt with a light green cardigan over it. The cardigan was the same color as her car in real life. My dreams are all about the details (like this one, and this one)

She and I talked. I don't know about what, in fact I'm not sure we even really talked in the dream or if I just had the impression that we did. Time passed and I guess we all ate, but in the way of dreams I couldn't tell you what we all had or how the service was or anything like that. All I can remember is that she excused herself to do something (bathroom? talk to the cook? I don't know) and my friends had now morphed into my parents (because really, that totally happens in real life). And my parents were ready to leave. I told them I'd meet them at the car and I went searching for FMHW because we hadn't finished talking. There was this total sense of something not being finished.

And in the way of dreams the little mom and pop restaurant was now undergoing construction (mostly in the kitchen area) and was also now a post office. And apparently I was interfering with the distribution of the mail by looking for FMHW because the workers were very displeased with me. I looked all over for her, but I couldn't find her. She just seemed to have disappeared into thin air (or escaped out the back). And so I left, walked outside to meet my parents feeling that feeling you feel when you know there was supposed to be more of something but that didn't happen (how many feels can you use in a sentence??). Disappointment, a little frustration, confusion for sure with a touch of hurt mixed in.

And then I woke up in a full on, full body sweat. It was 3 am, no where near time for me to be getting up for work, so I peeled the covers off a bit to cool down, rolled over and went back to sleep where I proceeded to have another strange dream of which I remember fewer details, but I know it was work stress related. There was yelling at a cashier involved when the greeting card I was buying morphed into a $48 piece of jewelery. I think it was a necklace. But that's all I really remember about it now.

So, I went off to work this morning thinking "boy, that was a strange night. So much for going to bed early so I get a good night's sleep." And that was that. I had a busy day at work, as they all are this time of year and didn't give my dreams another thought as I raced from meeting to problem solving to meeting to answering questions and putting out fires to another meeting to answering e-mails and voice mails and so on and so forth.

Not another thought, that is, until I was driving home and drove by FMHW. I haven't driven by her since the fall sometime I think. And I pass where she works twice a day five days a week while driving to and from work. And today, the day after the night where I dreamed about her (wearing a sweater the same color as her car) I drive by her. WTF? Is this a coincidence? Is it a sign? Is the universe fucking with me? Again? I don't know what to make of this really. Because what is the probability of that happening statistically speaking? No really, I'm serious. What are the chances?

So, now I'm sitting here wondering if I should e-mail her to say hello or if I should leave the past completely in the past. The last time I dreamed about her (two times in like a week or something crazy) I said to myself "Okay, if it happens again then you write her." Well, I'd call this happening again. Do I listen to myself or not? Stay in the present or fall back to the past? To be or not to be, that is the question. Wait, no, that's someone else's story sorry. Back to me.

I don't know what I should do. And when you don't know what to do the best thing to do is nothing. Or is it? Rock, Jess, Hard Place. Or something like that.

The lyrics for this post are from Rachael Yamagata's Be Be Your Love. This is a song I'll probably always associate with FWHM. Not for the obvious reasons of falling in love and not being able to be with the person you fell in love with. More so because at the time we were dating it was on both of our Top 25 most played songs playlists in our each of our iTunes. And it, of course, came up on shuffle on my iPod on my way home from work. WTF Universe? Is all this a coincidence or is it a sign? And if it's a sign what am I supposed to do with it?

If I could take you away
Pretend I was queen
What would you say
Would you think I'm unreal
'Cause everybody's got their way I should feel

Everybody's talking how I, can't, can't be your love
But I want, want, want to be your love
Want to be your love, for real
Everybody's talking how I, can't, can't be your love
But I want, want, want to be your love
Want to be your love for real
Want to be your everything

Everything...

Everything's falling and I am included in that
Oh, how I try to be just okay
Yeah, but all I ever really wanted
Was a little piece of you

Nostalgia

2010-06-05T22:39:00.007-04:00

I'm feeling nostalgic tonight. This weekend is reunion weekend at my alma mater, Wells College. A school I loved with all my heart and soul. A small woman's college that sat directly on a lake.

The above is our boathouse and the dock I spent many an hour watching the stars from. I would love to be there now.

I arrived at Wells in the fall of 199X and didn't leave for four solid years. I stayed in town during the summer and worked at the college. I knew the school inside and out. It's the place where I discovered myself and grew so much as a person and where I learned so many valuable life skills (and also I sometimes went to class and learned there too). It was home to me. When coming into town you see the bell tower before you see anything else. I always knew I was home when I could see the bell tower.

But the college of my memories is no longer. Five and a half years ago alumnae got the notification that the following fall the college would be going co-ed. And as if that wasn't bad enough it was going co-ed under the leadership of a fellow alumna. A sister. I am still bitter.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not against co-education. I'm against my school being co-ed. Because by going co-ed it lost it's niche. See, down the lake there's a very large very prestigious university (ahem, I'm looking at you Cornell) and a larger co-ed liberal arts college (and now I'm looking at you Ithaca College). Up the lake there is another large university (known as the home of the Orangemen). Across the lake another co-ed liberal arts college (yeah, you might never have heard of this one so never mind). Not to mention the countless other institutions of higher learning in a pretty small radius. What made Wells unique, being a woman's college, is now no more.

And the reason we were told it was going co-ed was because it was going to bring in more money. Bring in the revenue to save the school. That hasn't happened. The future for the college looks bleak (perhaps the most bleak it has ever looked) and the alumna president, a fellow sister, is still at the helm of this sinking ship. And this makes me sad and angry but mostly sad.

The Wells of my memories will live on forever. But the Wells of today, well, I wouldn't be surprised to see it's doors closed for good in the next five years. Thankfully I've been out of school long enough that my work experience speaks for itself on my resume. But imagine having a degree from a school that just shut it's doors in this job market or when trying to get into grad school? Wow. I imagine that would suck.

Through the miracle that is Facebook I understand that the president's address at reunion was more of the same line of bullshit the administration has been feeding us for as long as I can remember. How can people not see that a regime change is in order? How can the board of trustees not see the downward spiral the college has taken since madam alumna has been president? Madam completely fucking unqualified alumna that is. One likes to be accurate when one is referencing professional titles. It's is beyond infuriating. Particularly so for me because working at a college I've seen first hand how much good a change in leadership can do for a school that's having financial difficulties.

And the sad thing is that there are so many talented alumnae, so many of us with skills and know how to help. But no one will listen. They don't want to hear what we have to say. Instead they force through a "strategic plan" that's more of the same old same old (which has been oh so effective for the last decade or so). They can't go co-ed again, but I'm sure if they could they'd be doing it in a heartbeat.

Anyhow, I'm feeling nostalgic for my time at Wells tonight. Nostalgic for the fun (and sometimes not so much fun) I had with the beautiful, talented, strong, funny, intelligent, kind, caring, generous, you name it women, no not just women, sisters, that I spent those four years with. They are some of the most incredible and amazing people I have ever met. And though it's not my reunion year I know many of my friends are in Aurora this weekend. Listening to the bullshit coming from the administration. But also reliving their time there (and if I know my sisters having a drink or five down at the Fargo). I imagine those four years had a profound impact on all of us. I know they certainly did for me.

And yes, I know, everyone's college experience is special in it's own way. But I can guarantee you that no one else's experience was like ours. There was just something so special about it. And that's another thing which makes me sad. The generations of young women who won't get to experience that specialness like we did. Henry Wells is rolling over and over and over in his grave right now I imagine. If he'd intended to start a co-ed school he'd have done so. Or better yet, just gone to work at Cornell with his buddy Ezra. But no, he had a vision and that vision was a woman's college. And an alumna destroyed it.

I could go on and on and on about this. Seriously, for like days and days I could go on. I try not to think about it at all most of the time because I get so sad and so angry. But sometimes you just gotta let it out. Sometimes you swim in the dark waters of your anger and nostalgia and long for the days when you could walk out your dorm room door at any time of the day or night and always find someone to talk to. And yeah, you might still have been lonely, but you were never ever alone. Long for the days when you were still hopeful that this still new alumna president would be good for the college you loved so dearly. When your rose colored glasses were still firmly planted on the bridge of your nose instead of lying shattered and broken on the floor.

There are two songs for this post. First up is the alma mater. The REAL alma mater, not the one they're using now with the words changed. That song will NEVER be my alma mater.

Fair Wells with loyal hearts
Thy DAUGHTERS ever sing
And to the name we love
Thy joyous tributes bring

And Wells, dear Wells we shout in singing
To thee our songs we raise
Thee would we ever praise
Our alma mater, dear alma mater!

To thee our songs we raise
Thee would we ever praise
Our alma mater, Beloved Wells!

And here's the one we sang to congratulate one of our sisters for something, for anything really.

Oh (name) we sing to you
You are so good and true
We'll all be loyal to you
We raise your name
And praise you to
And so we sing to dear old Wells
And you! Hey!

Both songs end in a fist pump by the way. Because we're classy like that.

It's Wednesday and

2010-05-26T19:10:00.001-04:00

I love lilies.

The symbology of the picket fence

2010-05-24T21:39:00.007-04:00

When I bought my house I knew there were some things I was going to need to fix and/or fix up (okay, LOTS of things). Some of them I've done, some I haven't and some I wasn't planning to fix but have anyway because, well, if you know the history of my house you'll understand what I mean when I saw EWWWWWWW.

Last spring I replaced my mailbox post. There was no way it was going to survive another Connecticut winter. You could practically put your finger through it in places it was so rotten (very much like a couple other things in this house which have yet to be fixed. I'm looking at you garage door.). It took my dad and I about an hour all told I believe. Once we found the right stuff to replace it that is. That was a fun trip to two different home improvement stores.

This spring it was time to replace my fence. Because, well, who wants to be the house on the street where the fence is moldy, rotting and occasionally just falls over. Okay, more than just occasionally. Toward the end the only thing that was holding it together was a twist tie strategically looped around a couple very very rusty nails. I am not even joking.

There was no way that thing was going to last through the summer let alone through another winter. I was embarrassed for me and perhaps that's just because I've become that suburbanite who is apparently very concerned about curb appeal and having a perfect lawn, but damn if I didn't hate the sight of that fence. And damn if I didn't also wonder what my neighbors thought of the fence. Also, when the hell did I become the perfect lawn person? What gives with that?

Anywho, here's the before:

And:

You'll notice in the following pictures that the tulips are gone and the magnolia is finished blooming and everything is much more mature. Yeah. This project took a few weeks. Did you know painting a fence really sucks? And takes forfreakingever? Tom Sawyer totally had the right idea. Sadly none of my "friends" just happened by as I was painting the new fence panels. Maybe next time.

Here's the new fence, the after if you will:

And:

I'd say that's a huge improvement if I do say myself. And I am no longer embarrassed by my fence. My parents and I did a pretty damn good job. And I'm not afraid I'm going to come home from work and find the entire thing collapsed in pieces on the lawn because of a gentle breeze. The fence is waaaaaaay more solid than the old one was even if one of the posts is pretty rotten. I'll deal with that down the road someday when I have to. For now, it's alllll good.

When I started this post I had intended to just throw up some pictures and show you the fruits of my labors and call it a day. But then as I was waiting for the pictures to upload I started thinking (imagine that, me thinking!) about the symbology of the white picket fence and what it means to me.

When I think of picket fences (not the TV show mind you, but the actual fence. The TV show is a whole other story) I think of happy and healthy families. And by families I mean whatever family represents to you. Mom, dad and kids. Husband, wife and dog. Dad, dad and kids. Mom, mom and kids. Mom, mom and dogs and cats. Dad, dad and an iguana. Cue sappy commercial about some product totally unrelated to the happy scene of dad and son playing catch in the yard while the fluffy golden retriever trots around and mom carries some overloaded plate to the picture table where the daughter is eating watermelon. You get the drift.

And then I started thinking about the symbolism behind my fixing my broken down, falling apart, moldy picket fence. Putting up the new fence symbolizes a rebirth in my ideal of a family. Of my family. Getting rid of the old and the broken, that which cannot be salvaged and replacing it with the new while keeping those pieces that, while damaged in some way, aren't broken.

Because damaged doesn't mean broken. Damaged can still be very strong especially when coupled with brand new parts. Damaged adds history and character to things and to people. We're all damaged in some way shape or form, some of us more so than others. That's all part of being human and being alive.

I like to think that my new fence is symbolic of my readiness to start anew. It's time. It's beyond time for that to happen really. Time to leave the past behind once and for all and move forward. To open myself up to the possibilities, to the opportunities that might not yet have presented themselves. To life, to happiness and to my family. My own picket fence dream. The one I've (maybe not so) secretly had for my entire life. The one where me and "the one" are living a happy and healthy and down right (boring) normal life, a life where we're just the lovely couple next door with a couple cats and a dog or two.

That (perhaps sickeningly) sweet life is what the picket fence symbolizes to me. I think perhaps metaphorically speaking my old fence was standing in the way of that dream. Now that it's gone there's nothing to stand in my way. So, here's to all of us realizing our picket fence dreams whatever they may be.

I'm totally lacking in creative energy right now so there aren't any lyrics for this post. Hum yourself a happy little tune to go with your picket fence dream instead okay?

Long time no see

2010-05-19T22:44:00.004-04:00

Hey look I have a blog! I haven't forgotten about it. Not really. Okay, maybe for a little while, but not more than a few days. Probably. I've just been, um, busy? I'm sure you all have been wondering where the heck I've been. All like both of you who read my blog.

Well, I haven't been any where really. I just needed a break so I took one. Breaks are good for the soul. I wish I had a torrid love affair to blog about or some other juicy tidbits to share, but I've just been doing a lot of thinking. Lots and lots of that (per usual). And then there was all the not doing anything I did which kept me really busy.

Truthfully, work has been really busy and I've been burnt out when I get home at night. And burnt out makes the motivation to do anything, let alone blog, hard to come by. Of course what I should be doing is going to bed early and getting good solid sleep to help me recharge. Instead I've been playing stupid computer games until after midnight and then going to bed and reading until 1am. Most of the time I'm pretty smart, but lately I've been really stupid about this particular thing.

So, to sum up, I have simply taken a blogging vacation. Not a real vacation mind you, just a bit of a break from cyberland (in cyberland we only drink diet coke, diet coke, diet coke). (because really, you know I had to quote Rent there right?)

And that's all I'm going to write for tonight because I have a swollen right thumb and it's kind of hard to type comfortably with it. I apparently injured myself while sleeping last night. Yes, I AM that talented. And no I was NOT doing that in my sleep thank you very much. I don't even have that kind of dream. WTF me? Really?

Also, I may have watched the most recent episode of Glee four or five times now. Since last night when it originally aired. I may have listened to the Idina Menzel/Lea Michele duet of I Dreamed A Dream like 10 times. I might have a Glee issue (is that a Glissue?). But that song and their powerful performances really touched me. The original is from Les Miserables of course and the Glee folks changed the pronoun from the male to the female to fit the situation and that dear readers set me right over the edge because the lyrics spoke not just to my heart, but directly to my soul. Cue the waterworks for me.

So, of course I'm going to post the lyrics here, with the pronoun changed of course, how could I not? Also go to youtube and find the video of Idina and Lea singing this together and watch it and really listen. Not just with your ears, but with your heart. Listen and let the music speak to you. Then listen again.

And yes, I know there are verses missing from the lyrics below. I'm giving you what was sung on Glee, that which spoke to me, not the original. Although I do now kind of have a hankering to see Les Miserables again. It's been longer than I'd care to think about because then I start feeling old. Also, my life isn't hell. Just wanted to clear that up.

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame

And still I dream she'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

Happy Birthday Sunshine

2010-04-14T20:11:00.007-04:00

Today is my cat Sunshine's birthday; he's 13. How did that happen?

This is us at my college graduation (he was a graduation present from a friend):

He's always preferred running water to water from a bowl:

He also knows how to get very comfortable:

And he's never been afraid of dogs, big or small:

He also loves to greet people at the door, "help" with whatever project you might be trying to do and sleep on my chest (which is a tad uncomfortable since he weighs about 17 pounds). He also puts on a really good tough guy act, but he's a mama's boy at heart.

Happy Birthday Sunshine!

I should be writing but....

2010-04-12T22:12:00.004-04:00

I should be working on my Script Frenzy script. But Mondays take a lot out of me. It all starts with the alarm clock jarring me out of sleep too early. I am not a morning person. I never have been and likely never will be. You think I'd learn to go to bed earlier on Sunday nights, but I'm so unwilling to let go of weekends that I end up going to bed a few hours later than I'd planned. Every. Single. Sunday. Apparently there are some things I don't learn easily.

So, I'm not working on my Script Frenzy script. I'll get back to it tomorrow. I feel like I'm in a good place with it (that WE are in a good place with it since I have a fantabulous writing partner) so I don't feel pressured to write tonight. Which is awesome because pressured writing isn't good writing most of the time.

Also, I decided today that I don't post enough pictures here so I'm going to make a concerted effort to be better about that. So, here we go.

This is me in my parent's driveway circa 1980.

The driveway is paved now, but has only been paved for a few years. And the trees are bigger now (as am I). But the view is just as beautiful.

And this one is just because I thought about the picture while Maggie and I were walking today. And I can't wait to get back up to Maine. And my iPod decided today was Maine playlist day.

And to send a message out to the Universe, here's a snippet from the Power of Two by the Indigo Girls. Are you listening Universe?

Chase all the ghosts from your head
I'm stronger than the monster beneath your bed
Smarter than the tricks played on your heart
We'll look at them together then we'll take them apart
Adding up the total of a love that's true
Multiply life by the power of two

Ahhh spring

2010-04-09T19:33:00.006-04:00

It's early spring here in beautiful Connecticut. The last few days were downright hot (93 degrees on Wednesday according to the news, 98 according to my car) giving us a taste of what's to come in a couple months. I love the spring (minus the pollen part). You can practically watch the leaves growing on the trees. Flowers start to bloom. Everything that was brown and dead looking turns green and vibrant again. Colors explode everywhere. I become infused with hope for the year. I think spring is my favorite season (minus the pollen part) with fall coming in a very close second.

I had all sorts of things I was going to post about. Like how my credit card number was stolen and how the customer service rep made me feel even worse about it when she couldn't believe I didn't have family in the area who could come sign for a FedEx for me while I was at work after I'd just explained to her that I was three hours from home visiting my family and was no where near a computer when some criminal was charging $14 worth of online financial services on my credit card. Thanks Citigroup, it's not enough to have your credit card information stolen but you hire customer service reps who act like you've got three heads when you explain you have no family near you.

Or how I had to tell one of my staff that I didn't have a half hour to argue with her yesterday and that she just needed to do as I'd asked even though the situation wasn't ideal. Or how I'm so sick of hearing that same employee complain about the same things that aren't going to change. She should know that by now. She's been doing the same job for nine years.

Or how wonderful it is that I don't have to celebrate Ms. Ex's birthday anymore because her birthday lasts an entire month even though my birthday is 10 days after hers and in the same month and only ever lasted a day.

Or how I've realized how reserved I am. Even on this blog I give everyone nicknames. I have never mentioned exactly where to work. I refer relatively vaguely to my friends and family (have I even mentioned my family? I can't remember. That's sad.). I play everything in my life close to the vest. This is neither good nor bad, just something I've noticed.

Instead I'll just show you this. Here's what spring looks like at my house.

And in honor of spring a little She & Him.

A girl has needs...

2010-03-29T21:40:00.003-04:00

A girl has needs. That's all I'm saying. Can you guess what I've been thinking a lot about lately?

A blog in multiple parts

2010-03-28T20:20:00.004-04:00

I'm not sure where to even begin this post. Let's start with the good. I bought curtains today. Curtains I've been in love with for months but which I thought were too expensive. I popped into Bed Bath & Beyond today and lo and behold they were on clearance. Guess who has new curtains? Also? When did I become a person who covets curtains?

So the date I was supposed to have Monday night didn't happen. Not only did it not happen I didn't hear from her until today. I think I'm done with her. There have been plenty of chances and for whatever reason we never seem to connect. Okay, no, not for whatever reason, her, she's the reason. And if we can't even meet for a first date then how the heck could you date or have a relationship with someone who keeps flaking? Yeah, done with her.

Yesterday I got an e-mail from the doctor who I had four dates with. The one whom I had written off. The one where I wasn't sure if there was a spark or chemistry or not. The one that I thought I'd never hear from her again since I hadn't heard from her in a month. Yeah. So now I don't know what to do about her. I don't know if I want to see her or if I don't want to see her. I just. Don't. Know.

And then today. Ah yes today. More on that after the lyrics.

I have been obsessed with the song Panic by David Ford this week. I have listened to it on repeat more times than I probably should confess to. I love it. And performed live it's even more powerful than it is on his studio recording. This guy is incredibly talented. Love. Him. Honestly, go see him live if you ever get the chance.

Exactly where should I begin,
Forgive me father I have sinned,
Been caught perpetuating wrongs,
I screamed an accusation,
And yet convinced that still I can
Somehow be better than I am,
If I could only bring myself,
To step in one direction.

But all the progress I've made,
Has left me bitter and afraid,
I bolt the doors and let the
Trappings of my life surround me,
And hope to God nobody calls,
But trust the scratching in the walls
To be my comfort and my shelter
From the world around me.

Okay, more about today. I suggest you tune out now if you'd rather not read me wallowing in self pity. Or whatever it is that I'm about to spew forth since self pity just doesn't seem like the right way to describe what is to follow.

I saw you in the grocery store today. One glance was all it took to suck the moisture from my mouth, to stop my heart while lodging it firmly in my throat before setting it pounding immediately out of my chest, to set my stomach on a roller coaster ride of flips and flops, to send my internal thermostat off the top of the charts. Tears sprung unbidden to my eyes and the memories of you came flooding back. The nights neither of us wanted to end lying in that bed in your kitchen with a fire crackling in the fireplace. The wish that we could stop time and languish in that moment forever. So many moments. Watching a thunderstorm blow through from your porch. Relaxing with a couple beers in my greenhouse just talking.

It's been long enough that I should be over you. I really should be over you. Over and done with you and moved on with my life. I know that. Honestly I do. And I don't pine, I don't wallow in the past. I'm doing my best to move forward with my life. But in that moment today in the produce aisle when my heart was stuck in my throat the only thing I could think was "I still love you."

I never told you I loved you when we were together for those five months. I knew if I did it would scare you off. Frankly, it scared me to be falling in love with you. It didn't matter though, you were scared off anyway. I still remember the moment when I realized how scared you were even if you never voiced your fears specifically. "I don't want you to fall in love with me" you said. By that time it was already too late. But I didn't tell you that. I simply replied that you couldn't control my heart and neither could I.

I compare all my dates to you. How do they measure up to you I ask myself. I look at them across the table and wonder if the chemistry can even come close to what you and I had. And sure, maybe it was just that, good chemistry. Lust not love. I don't know. We never really got a chance to find out. Perhaps the fire would have burned itself out in another month or two or three.

I've heard it said many times that you don't really get over the last love until you fall in love with the next person. And I've tried. God have I tried. There have been plenty of dates. Plenty of chances for me to make a connection with someone, the kind of connection you and I had. But it's just not happening.

And so this weekend, when I got the e-mail from the doctor after a month of silence I started thinking I should give her another shot. She's been the closest I've come to connecting since you. And then I get the e-mail from the other woman, the one who I can't seem to meet no matter how many times we try, and I wonder if maybe it's her that I'm supposed to wait for. And then I see you in the grocery store. Is this the sign I've been waiting for?

But it wasn't you today in the grocery store. It wasn't you. Just some woman who could have been your sister. Or your stunt double. Your doppelganger. And now I really don't know what direction the Universe wants me to travel in. Thank god I don't have to decide today.

Scent

2010-03-21T22:01:00.005-04:00

On Friday night I went to a friend's house for an evening of food, drink and board games. Totally my kind of night.

As tends to happen while playing games the topics of conversation were varied and plentiful. Also totally my kind of night. You just never know what might come up.

One of the things we talked about was how big a role smell takes in attraction. As in if you don't like how the other person smells no matter how incredibly perfect they may appear to be for you chances are the attraction just won't be there. And by attraction I do mean physical attraction and compatibility long term.

And damn if that hasn't proved to be true for me. Historically speaking that is since I'm still very much single.

My first girlfriend wore Liz Claiborne perfume. The smell of that perfume can still make me stop in my tracks even now, over a decade later. I'll stop and look around to see if it's her I smell. It never is (thank god! That was a messed up relationship to say the least but my brain will never forget that smell and all the things associated with it).

The funny thing for me looking back is how many times I can remember Ms. Ex telling me she thought I smelled badly. You know, after coming inside from walking the dogs. Or having worked in the yard. Mostly when I'd get sweaty. I can still hear the tone of her voice and see the way her nose would turn up, her lips curl, as she said "god, you stink!" or "ugh, you smell like outside, nasty." If this was a one time thing, or even something that happened on occasion it probably wouldn't be written so indelibly into my memory. But it happened all the freaking time. A match made in heaven we were not.

Then there was FMHW. She smelled great. And she told me I smelled great no matter how sweaty I might have been. Apparently, based on the smell theory, we were very compatible (god knows the attraction was there; my god was the attraction there; on a related note? It's been a very long time. I'll leave it at that.). Too bad we weren't able to spend longer finding out just how compatible we might have been. There are still times when I think I should send her an e-mail and see what happens. But I never do.

And most recently I realized (after looking back on things of course, 20/20 hindsight and all that) that the woman I most recently went on some dates with (four! A new record!) wasn't attractive to me. No matter how great she was. And she is. Great that is. Her head is together. She has a great career path. She's pretty and funny and easy to talk to. She's smart and kind and responsible and lots of other wonderful adjectives. But there was no attraction for me. And now I wonder how much of that might have to do with smell. I'm sure smell isn't all of it, but maybe it is some of it.

Of course on my next date (potentially tomorrow, but no confirmation yet) on top of all the other things that run through my mind upon first meeting someone will be the "do I think she smells good?" question. And really, how do you subtly smell someone? Because asking would be a tad awkward. "Hey, so nice to meet you. Can I just smell you real quick before we sit down?" Yeah, I don't think so. But you can damn well bet I'm going to be taking deep deep breaths (subtly of course) to see if I can smell her across the table as we talk.

For this post the lyrics come from a song that will always remind me of Maine, Far Away by Ingrid Michaelson. I do love a good Ingrid song and this one really fits with the theme of the post. Without further ado:

I will live my life as a lobsterman's wife on an island in the blue bay.
He will take care of me, he will smell like the sea,
and close to my heart he'll always stay.

I will bear three girls all with strawberry curls, little Ella and
Nelly and Faye.
While I'm combing their hair, I will catch his warm stare
On our island in the blue bay.

Far away far away, I want to go far away.
To a new life on a new shore line.
Where the water is blue and the people are new.
To another island, in another life.

Upcoming events

2010-03-10T22:40:00.003-05:00

Thursday night:

And:

Sunday night:

And:

It's going to be a great four days!

I am waaaay to tired to come up with a title

2010-03-04T21:20:00.003-05:00

I'm obsessed with this song today:

I'm a big fan of the Beatles. I listened to this song on repeat on my way home from work after a very very long day. It really speaks to me as I'm entering into (yet another) introspective phase.

I'll update more on the dating scene when I have a bit more energy. Work has been ridiculously busy the last few weeks and I'm just plain beat. I left work on time yesterday to go to a concert and it felt like I was playing hooky or leaving early. That's not good.

The full moon hasn't been helping me sleep lately either. This week has found me waking up to some seriously odd dreams. Perhaps I'll detail them later. After a few good night's sleep.

As for lyrics, listen to the above song. Those are your lyrics.

Busy and yet not busy...

2010-02-24T22:38:00.005-05:00

I've been busy the last few weeks. But not busy at the same time. This time two weeks ago I was preparing for three dates in a row which is a definite first for me for sure. They went as expected which I suppose is a good thing. Date number one was a first date was with a reporter and I felt like I was being interviewed the entire time. And she was late. With no excuse, she was simply late. We will not be going out again even though I think Ms. Reporter would like to. No chemistry for me at all. But at least she was better looking in person than her profile pictures.

Date number three was a first date was with an elementary school teacher. She was also late, but very apologetic and had a very good reason. She was picking up a new car and it took longer than expected. At least on this date I didn't feel as though I were being interviewed. I knew there wasn't a connection though and so did she. So, that was good. At least it wasn't awful since I drove an hour each way to have coffee with her.

Date number two was a second date, one of only three second dates since FMHW. This one went well. Really well. Except for the part where I had wine spilled down my back after someone at the table behind me bumped the waitress's arm. Thankfully it was white wine. No harm done other than a cold, wet back for a while and smelling like stale wine on the drive home. Could have been much much worse.

This second date went well enough for us to go on a third date. It's been two years since I've been on a third date. Nearly two years exactly (yes, apparently I am counting). And the third date went well. We closed the restaurant again and had plenty to talk about which is really important to me.

But then as we were walking in the parking lot came the question "I'd like to know where I stand." What does that mean on a third date? How do you answer that? How do you answer that when you're not sure where you stand or where you want her to stand in your head because you're soooooo guarded and you've suddenly realized right then and there in the parking lot that you've built ginormous brick walls over the course of the past 18 or so months that you didn't realize you were building?

Yeah, so that went well. I was honest and said that I'd like to see her again and see where things go. That I didn't know what the future held but I enjoyed spending time with her. That was the best I could do at the time. And I suppose it was a good enough answer. And at the very least it was completely honest.

What I didn't add, and maybe I should have, was "and you have beautiful eyes." Or something like that. You know, say something which would indicate my interest in her. I think my flirter is broken. Or that I've forgotten how. Good to know. Is there a place to have your flirter repaired? Do they make house calls?

What I also know is that while I may appear to be calm, confident and collected I'm really a shy and anxious mess inside a lot of the time. And this shyness sometimes gets in the way of my just going for something or maybe the better way to phrase it is that it prevents me from living in the moment as much as I should. I'm so freaking self aware, self conscious sometimes, that I can't let go of the doubts and just live in the moment and see where it takes me. The shyness also makes me come off as very reserved which, I suppose I am, but which might also make it hard for people to read me. And perhaps some of the reserve is intentional so I protect myself. Too deep for me to contemplate for tonight.

So, now I have an e-mail in my inbox that I need to respond to from this woman and I feel like I need to explain myself better but I also feel like I don't have the words tonight. I feel like I'm not exactly sure what I want and how can I explain myself if I don't know exactly what I want or what I want to say. Or do I know what I want? Better to sleep on it right? Or maybe not this time. Maybe I should just reply and trust the Universe. I just don't know. How do you explain to someone that you know you like them because of the way your teeth were vibrating? Because that sounds weird right? Even though it's true. What, your teeth don't vibrate when you like someone? No? Just me?

Also, I think having a date on a Monday night has screwed with my body clock. Because all day Tuesday it felt like Friday. And all day today it also felt like Friday. And tomorrow, sadly, is still not Friday.

I've also been staying up way too late watching the Olympics. I haven't turned off the lights and gone to sleep before 12:30 am since before they started, what, 10 days ago? The opening ceremonies were the same night as the night I had wine spilled down my back. Me thinks I'm a tad over tired which might be fucking with my ability to think clearly.

So, yeah. I'm sleepy. And I should be going to bed. No, I should already be in bed and asleep. Instead, here I am on my couch watching the Olympics and hoping I'll know what to write in an e-mail. I can't even think of any lyrics for this post. Go check out this video instead. Melissa Ferrick's fingers are soooooo fast here. How does she play this fast??

Dreaming in Five Acts

2010-02-09T21:19:00.003-05:00

My dream last night took place in five different acts. All of which were random and odd (but amazingly enough not terrifying for a change). One thing to note which is relevant to the dream, I was supposed to have a date last night with a woman who I will call H. She has three daughters 10 and under and had to cancel because her sitter was sick.

Act 1. I am at my grandmother's house with my family. I don't have a clue why we are there but my cousins are there and my mom is there and I think maybe aunts and uncles too. There is an incredibly LONG dirt driveway and down the driveway are a couple picnic tables. And by down the driveway I mean like a quarter of a mile or more down the driveway. A couple of my cousins are sitting with my mother at one of the tables and I'm not sure what happens but I can tell that my cousin Wendy is really disappointed in me. I believe she's disappointed in me because I'm dating. This doesn't make sense in real life or in the dream.

Act 2. I am now in my own house, which is soooooo not my house and isn't any place I've ever been before and is rather cluttered. There's stuff everywhere. Not garbage either, just stuff. Someone is at the door so I answer it and there's H with one of her daughters (I'm guessing the oldest because of her height). Now, I've never actually MET H before in real life or in the dream but there she is with one of her kids. They come in and I tell H that I have to go check my OK Cupid e-mail. Um, you tell your DATE that? In front of her daughter? As you can imagine I got quite a look from H in the dream and I put my arm around the kid and made up some random thing about my e-mail and why I had to go check it. I don't know what I said though.

Act 3. Now for some reason someone else is in my house searching it. H is no where to be seen and neither is her daughter. I do not know exactly why my house is being searched but it has to do with dating. Someone is unhappy or worried about me dating so naturally searching my house is the way to address that. I'm following the searcher (who I think is a guy) around the house and we go in the bedroom (which is a total mess and looks nothing like my bedroom has ever looked and the bed is in the middle of the room, not against any wall). He's searching the room, which is also cluttered and has stuff EVERYWHERE and I notice hair sticking out from under the covers of my bed. It's H. Apparently she's hiding under the covers of my bed. No, I don't know why and no I have no idea where her kid has disappeared to. I also can't remember if the guy searching my house sees her.

Act 4. The searcher is gone and now H and I are going away for an over-night trip. On our first date. With my parents. I know, WTF?! right? So, we're in the car and suddenly we're driving into this sporting goods store. Because that happens all the time. We parked inside at the front and got out and started shopping. The clothing racks were literally just outside the car doors. My mother picked out some jacket/shirt thing for me that was perfect for something in my dream but now that I'm remembering it I'm all "WTF?! I'd NEVER wear that and what would you wear it FOR exactly?" I go over to the dressing rooms to try it on and the dressing room monitor guy yells at me. Tells me I have to go over to that big open space over there to get changed. In the middle of the store. With no privacy. I yell back at him and tell him I want to talk to his manager. I yell at the manager. Somehow I am not kicked out of the store but I also never try the ugly shirt/jacket thing on either (which was like a halter that was lined with black fleece but had a windproof baby blue shell, sooooo odd). I walk back over to the car (which is dark chocolaty brown in color and no model of car that I've ever seen before) and H is there with a half smoked, but unlit, cigarette in her right hand and an unlit full cigarette in her left hand.

Act 5. The cigarettes disappear and we're all back in the car again (mom, dad, me and H). Mom is driving and we're again driving in the store trying to find the exit (apparently it moved while we were shopping, hate it when that happens). Instead of turning right to go down the stairs and to the exit, mom turns left and we start driving up the stairs. It's a spiral stair case. And the stairs get really really steep and yet we keep driving up them, like we're in some huge bell tower or something. We're literally sitting in our seats at an 80 degree angle driving up these stairs. I kind of recall thinking that a) we were soooooo going in the wrong direction and b) what happens when we get to the top and can't turn around and c) what if we lost our forward momentum and started to slip backward. We eventually get to a place where the stairs stop (but they continue again after some sort of road block [stair block?]) so we stop and our car has turned into a wooden canoe. Because I often drive a canoe up steep flights of stairs. Happens ALL the time right? Well, when we get out of the canoe to stare stupidly at the end of the stairs no one holds on to the canoe (or set the parking brake? I suppose it's possible that in a dream, my dream especially, a wooden canoe could have a parking brake) and it, of course, starts rocketing back down the stairs we'd just driven the damn thing up. We all watch the canoe go and I can recall thinking that we were going to get in big trouble and also hoping no one got hurt. That's when I woke up.

My subconscious scares me.

I'm not sure how today's lyrics relate to my dream, but I've always loved them so I thought I'd share. They're from a song called I Am Done by Melissa Ferrick.

What I need is completeness
What I need is neatness
I need a messy kind of make it up
As you go along
I need a silence full of nothing
I need to love
Without trying
Without trying to be loving

Some days

2010-01-31T20:20:00.002-05:00

I love weekends. I really do. Who doesn't? Weekends are our chance to sleep in or get up early and do what we want to do instead of going to work. Weekends we can sit in front of the t.v. all day and eat potato chips in our pajamas if we want. Or take a long walk in the middle of the day just to be outside. Or watch 3 movies and then read for the rest of the night.

Weekends are also when most of us run around doing all the errands we don't get a chance to do during the week because we are working. I can't think of a weekend when I've been home where I didn't at least need to go grocery shopping.

But weekends can also be lonely. There are days when the only person I talk to on the weekends is the cashier at the grocery store. Sure, I text with my friends and I e-mail and check Facebook and that's great. But the loneliness is still there, beneath the surface, threatening, looming, waiting for just the right moment to start seeping into my soul.

It's not the crushing loneliness of two years ago. And that's great. It's more the "it would be great to have someone sitting on the other side of the couch" kind of loneliness. The "I wish someone would make dinner for me occasionally" kind of loneliness. The "I really should have gone out and done something more today" kind of loneliness.

But when you're still recovering from an odd kind of cold that has left your right ear clogged for days and your right sinus filled to the brim it's hard to want to go out. Because frankly my hearing kind of sucks right now. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. I feel like my hearing sucks so that makes me reluctant to want to go out and socialize. Really I can hear just fine.

I know (now at least, although it was a different story 2 years ago) that the loneliness is only temporary. It comes and goes in waves and mostly now it goes. I enjoy, nearly covet at times, my alone time. I honestly like living alone. I love the quiet of my house, or conversely I love being able to blast my music or turn up the volume of the t.v. as loud as I want it. And I love being able to watch or listen to whatever I want to watch or listen to.

But some days, some days the loneliness still comes. Those days are fewer and further between now, but the loneliness is still there, beneath the surface, threatening. Today is one of the lonely days. And that's okay. Because tomorrow won't be. Nor the day after or the day after that.

Today's lyrics come from a song by J.D. Souther. I've never heard the original but I LOVE the cover by Schuyler Fisk. It's called You're Only Lonely.

When the world is ready to fall
On your little shoulders
And when you're feelin' lonely and small
You need somebody there to hold you
You can call out my name when you're only lonely
Now don't you ever be ashamed
When you're only lonely

When you need somebody around
On the nights that try you
Remember I was there when you were a queen
And I'll be the last one there beside you
So you can call out my name
When you're only lonely
Now don't you ever be ashamed
When you're only lonely
You're only lonely
You're only lonely
You're only lonely

When the world is ready to fall
On your little shoulders
And when you're feelin' lonely and small
You need somebody there to hold you
You can call out my name
When you're only lonely
So don't you ever be ashamed
You're only lonely
You're only lonely
You're only lonely
You're only lonely

Oh, it's no crime
Darlin' we got lots of time
No, there's nothin' wrong with you
Darlin' I get lonely too
You're only lonely
You're only lonely

So, if you need me
All you've gotta do is call me
When you're only lonely
You're only lonely
When you're lonely

Context

2010-01-26T19:33:00.003-05:00

Today I sent the strangest text message I think I've ever sent. It said simply "maybe my eyes are your teeth." Taken out of context I'm sure you're thinking WTF? Teeth, eyes, what?? How would that even work?

The context of the text was me asking a friend if the cold she had (has still?) made her eyes hurt. As in the actual eyeball, not the socket or the muscles surrounding it. Because I'm totally getting her cold (which is fine, I'm not mad at her. No really, I'm not. I honestly don't care.) and I had these weird eye pains. Her response was no, but her teeth did hurt at one point. So, logically (in my mind at least) I replied that maybe my eyes were her teeth, meaning maybe the weird pains in my eyes were how my body was processing this cold and I was getting pain there instead of in my teeth. Context was very very important in this case. Because really? "Maybe my eyes are your teeth?" That makes no sense what so ever.

Context provides so much clarity in life. So many little things that we do or say or text every day would seem so incredibly odd without the context surrounding them. For instance, today a co-worker asked me if I'd resurrected someone. And I answered yes. No, I don't have the power to raise the dead. I do have the power, however, to change errors in our database and therefore I am able to make the "dead" "alive" again.

Without context in our lives I think we'd have a ridiculously hard time functioning in the world. I can't even imagine what that would be like and I hope I never find out.

Lyrics for this post are easy, even if my mind is rather muddled with the cold that's brewing (maybe I'll take a sick day, probably I won't though). They come from the song Fire Door by Ani DiFranco (<-- video link chosen not because it's a stellar performance of the song but because I used to live in Ithaca and Ani and Ithaca go hand in hand for me) (this is a better performance) (also this is one of my top 10 favorite songs of all time) (Could I use any more parenthesis in this paragraph?) (apparently, yes, yes I can).

I opened the fire door to four lips
None of which were mine kissing
Tightened my belt around my hips
Where your hands were missing

Stepped out into the cold, collar high
Under the slate grey sky, the air was smoking
And the streets were dry and I wasn't joking
When I said good bye

And there were magazine quality men talking on the corner
French, no less much less of them then us
So why do I feel like something's been rearranged?
You know, taken out of context I must seem so strange.

I killed a cockroach so big
It left a puddle of puss on my wall
And you know when you and I are lying in bed
You don't, you don't, you don't seem so tall

I'm singing now because my tear ducts are too tired
And my mind is disconnected by my heart is wired

I'd make such a good statistic
Someone should study me now
Somebody's got to be interested in how I feel
Just 'cause I'm here and I'm real and

Oh, how I miss substituting a conclusion
A confrontation with a kiss
And oh, how I miss walking up to the edge and jumping in
Like I could feel the future on your skin
I opened the fire door to four lips
None of which were mine kissing

I opened the fire door

Insert a title without a curse word here....because I can't come up with one that doesn't include fuck.

2010-01-21T18:13:00.003-05:00

On my drive home tonight I decided I'm angry. I stewed and stewed and stewed over something that happened at work and yes, I am angry about it. Perhaps I shouldn't be. In the scheme of things it's not that big a deal, but sometimes it's the little things that push you right over the edge.

And that's what happened today. I was apparently pushed over the edge. By my boss. Who used her mom voice on me and called me by my full name as though to 'discipline' me. She is only a few years older than me by the way. So no where near being my mother's age. Why did she use her mom voice you ask? Because I knew what I was talking about, knew how to do my job, knew the regulations we have to follow and disagreed with what she was trying to say. Which was wrong. W.R.O.N.G. And I wasn't even telling her she was wrong in front of anybody. Just trying to explain why I couldn't, legally (or ethically), do something.

A co-worker heard my boss's end of the conversation and immediately text messaged me to ask me if our boss had just been nasty to me on the phone. So, as much as I'd like to believe I'm being too sensitive and that I was just grumpy obviously I wasn't.

Yesterday I had to tell someone else I work with that my boss was wrong about something else. And again my boss tried to tell me that I didn't know what I was talking about and that we could "trick" the system. Um, no. No we can't trick the system. It's my JOB to know the god damned system. I've known the damn system intimately for almost nine years now. I know it inside out, back and forth and upsidefuckingdown. Don't tell me that there's a way to do something that there isn't.

And then, after trying to tell me yesterday that I didn't know what I was talking about, she literally said that her "evil mind would think of something." Yes, she called herself evil. And I did not argue with that. She can spin her wheels on this one as long as she likes, but with the way the current system stands the only way to accomplish what she wants to do is the way I explained to her and to the person who originally asked the question. I've explained and explained and explained until I'm blue in the face and the system isn't going to change right now. At least, not over night. And no, perhaps it isn't the best system (frankly, I have never like the way this particular part of our database works), but it's what we have and we've designed everything around how it works. And what we've used for the last 7+ years with hardly a hitch in our giddy-up.

Needless to say I'm aggravated tonight. I just want to go to work, do my job, be treated with the respect I deserve and come home. I don't need to be spoken to in a nasty tone by my boss as though I'm her 9 year old daughter who won't clean her room. And you know, for the most part, I do like my job. I like the people I work with. I like the environment. And I'm good at what I do. But days like the past couple really make me question why I've stayed for so long. Why I continue to stay for that matter. I miss my old boss. The one who retired three years ago. She would never have spoken to me in the manner I was spoken to today and she always treated me with respect. I need to send her a thank you note.....

Too frustrated to try to find lyrics today. Sorry, I'll do better next time.

Love, hate and Facebook. Or something like that

2010-01-11T21:10:00.004-05:00

I took an extended break from blogging. It wasn't intentional, but I guess I needed it. First there were the holidays to prepare for and then the holidays themselves and then the recovery from the holidays and now here we are and it's been nearly a month since I posted last. And it's time, past time really, for a post.

My dreams have been messing with me again recently. I'm not going into the specifics but suffice it to say that they are making it very hard for me to move forward with certain aspects of my life. And hard to get a restful night's sleep. My damn subconscious won't let things go even though my conscious brain knows it's for the best to move forward, move on. My conscious brain knows there is nothing to hang on to. It knows, I know and I wish I could convince my subconscious of it too.

But I'm really having trouble reconciling it all. I thought I wasn't but I am. Why else would I be crying over someone changing their profile picture on Facebook? Besides hormones, which also might be part of the problem tonight. Some days it can be amazingly fun to be a woman. And honestly? The new profile picture is awesome. It's a great picture. But it's so not worth the tears or the messed up emotions behind them.

I love Facebook because it has allowed me to reconnect with so many people that I probably never would have found otherwise. I truly enjoy seeing what my friends are up to, seeing their pictures and reading their comments and being at least a peripheral part of their lives when we are all so very geographically far apart.

I also hate Facebook because it also evokes emotional turmoil in me at times like it's done tonight with a simple posting of a new profile picture. I could unfriend this person (okay, who am I kidding here, you all know it's FMHW I'm talking about right?), but I don't want to. I could hide her but I don't want to do that either. She rarely posts anything so it's always a surprise when she shows up in my feed.

Tonight's picture wouldn't have caught me off guard I don't think if it weren't for the dreams. I foresee another dream tonight because of this but hopefully I'll be proven wrong. My dreams are so real while I'm having them and so detailed and driven by emotion that they stay with me. Lately I really feel like there's supposed to be some message for me in them, but from who? Me to me? The Universe to me? And what's the message? Should I send a message? Am I just reading too much into signs that aren't really there?

It's not as though I'm not trying to move on either. I'm working on the dating, but that, as everyone knows, isn't always easy. But I am trying. I signed myself up for another dating site and I'm giving that one a whirl for a while to see how it goes.

I'd love the dreams to stop for a while. I'd love a really good long stretch of not thinking about her. Not wondering if she ever thinks of me. Not wondering if I'll randomly run into her at the gas station on my way home from work (not that I thought about that tonight AT ALL while I was pumping gas). Not wondering if I'll find that kind of chemistry again. Not wondering about things I just should not be wondering about this long after the fact. Instead I'd like to trust that I will find that chemistry again. Trust that it's headed my way if I'm just patient for a little longer. And I do trust the Universe. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be in my life, but you know, tonight I'd really love to know why I'm here right now. And isn't that one of life's biggest questions, why?

I've been thinking a lot tonight as I am wont to do when my brain is in overdrive. I've spent a fair amount of time analyzing my feelings/thoughts trying to get to the bottom of them to figure out what is holding me back. I'm not sure I'm there yet but maybe I'm close. I hope I'm close. We'll say I'm close because that makes me feel better. Somewhat. For a few seconds at least.

I was watching How I Met Your Mother tonight and one of Ted's voice over lines in this episode was "sometimes you walk into a place you've never been before, but you get the feeling that you're exactly where you're supposed to be." And that line right there sums up why I'm so close to figuring out what's holding me back. I think. Maybe it's actually what is holding me back. That's probably a tad more accurate. But, for now, we'll say the jury is still out. Because again it makes me feel better. Somewhat.

So, lyrics. I feel like I've used this song before but I'm too lazy to go check right now. But I like it a lot and while it might not seem apropos for this post, for me it really is. Tonight I give you Morning Lullabies by Ingrid Michaelson.

Yesterday
I woke up
With your head on my arm
My hand was numb
Circulation gone
But I dared not move the pretty sleeping one

The sun had painted
Patterns on your face
As you breathed Sunday air
You rolled onto
My open arm
I became your pillow; you let me smooth your hair

I will sing you morning lullabies
You are beautiful and peaceful this way
I know you have to close your eyes on everyone
Let me help you, I'll sing you to sleep
With morning lullabies

I had a good streak going....

2009-12-15T19:10:00.005-05:00

A good streak of dreamless nights that is. Or maybe I should say with nights where I didn't have a disturbing dream, because I think I dream most nights I just don't always remember them. Last night's dream broke my streak. I cannot even begin to try to explain the dream so I'm not going to bother. What I can describe is how badly it fucked with my emotions.

It was one of those dreams that stays with you all day. And not in a good way. If you want to get right down to it I'm pretty sure I know why I had the dream (I am generally pretty self aware). But just because you know why you had a certain dream doesn't make the feeling like you've just had your heart broken, again, go away easily. I guess you could slot last night's dream into the "woe is me" category. Also? In case you were wondering, having your heart broken in your dream hurts just as much as it does when it happens in real life. I don't recommend it. Having year heart broken in your dream by someone who has broken your heart in real like really sucks.

I spent a lot of today feeling sorry for myself. For no reason other than the dream mind you. That's not a good way to spend the day. It was one of those days where I didn't want to be at work, but I didn't want to be home and I couldn't think of any place I'd actually rather be. Honestly I'd have liked to curl up in a little ball and hidden away from the world until I started feeling better. Instead I sat at my desk going through the motions and hoping tomorrow would be a better day. What's the likelihood that I'll have my heart broken again tonight in my dream? I'm really hoping it's slim to none. Because I do not want to wake up tomorrow feeling like I did when I woke up today.

Yesterday I also got the news that someone I knew and had worked with peripherally for nearly nine years had died. I didn't even know he was sick. He didn't look sick the last time I saw him (over the summer? September? I can't remember now which makes me sad). Needless to say that news was a huge shock. I take comfort in knowing no one knew he was sick other than his boss. He'd been diagnosed with inoperable cancer earlier this year, how much earlier I don't know. And I have no idea what kind of cancer either. Gerry was the kind of guy who went the extra mile and a half for you. And he was genuinely nice. Never had a bad word to say about anyone. And his wanting to keep his illness private was very much a Gerry thing to do. He wanted to help you, not for you to help him. Gerry was only 53. Too young. Way too young. There's a memorial service for him on campus this week. I am, of course, going to go.

I'm sure that news didn't help with the dream last night. There was a distinct and palpable feeling of loss in it. A feeling of loss which carried over into my waking life today. And though Gerry and I weren't close and didn't see each other often I do feel like I have lost something. Gerry was one of the good ones.

Last night I spent an hour an a half searching the interwebs for video of a song. Apparently none exists at this time which is kind of disappointing but since the artist doesn't appear to be that well known I guess it's not too surprising. In fact I can't even find the lyrics to the song online so I'm going to have to transcribe them in order to post them. But that's okay, I think the effort is worth it. The song I'm talking about is called Words You Said and it's by an artist called Ellis. I discovered her last week (thanks iTunes!). I love her voice. And if you watch some of her videos you'll see that she can also laugh at herself which I also love. She's great and I cannot recommend her enough.

I like to imagine that Gerry might have felt this way and might have told his wife and his family something similar. This one's for you Gerry.

Words You Said by Ellis

The walls of our home
Seem to stand out of habit
I am here and you are gone
Like some kind of dark magic
You said don't let days go by
Without a love in your life
Being all alone won't honor us
Your words echo in my mind

I am one spoke in the wheel
One leaf in the tree
I will fall when my time comes
And the snow will cover me

When we were young
We'd wear our hearts in the open
We'd sing out of tune
And we'd dance until morning
We knew we wouldn't have forever
I watched them lower you down
The sky is gray and the ground is white
I say goodbye to my lover

I am one spoke in the wheel
One leaf in the tree
I will fall when my time comes
And the snow will cover me

I met someone new
And I am confused by it
She is not you
And I won't ever forget it
We dance and we sing
We laugh and we cry
I remember the words you said
And as always you were right

Echoing

2009-12-09T22:34:00.005-05:00

I haven't been very good about blogging lately. I haven't been very good about doing anything creative lately. But I'm not overly sad about it and I don't feel bad either. I have learned to just go with the flow and when the words are flowing I write them. When the words aren't flowing I don't force them. You should never force things. If you're lucky whatever it is you're forcing won't break. If you aren't lucky then you're likely to snap something in half by trying to force it to do something it wasn't meant to do.

Instead of being creative I've been immersing myself in TV and movies. Yes, perhaps this is escapist behavior, I'll give you that. But I prefer to think of it as recharging my batteries. Figuring out my priorities. And frankly a lot of it is just needing mindless entertainment after long days at work. The end of the calendar year is a crazy time for fund raising which means long days tiring days for me. Right now I'd rather be working on my photography than my writing anyway.

I've also spent some time decorating my house, both for the holidays and just to make it more homey. I want it to be warm and inviting when you step inside. I want you to ignore the hell hole that is the kitchen and the retro pink and gray cartoon poodles in the bathroom and focus instead on the good energy, warmth and love which fill the house. Also, in my head homey equals candles. Just sayin'.

And honestly during this time, I think I've come to terms with the possibility that I will grow old alone. I'm okay with it. I really am. Who cares if I'm a spinster with a couple of cats and a dog or two? So long as I have my friends and am able to do things I enjoy what does it matter if I come home to a house filled with only four legged companions? I've done the long term relationship thing. I've been through the equivalent of a divorce. I've loved and been loved. To have had those experiences was amazing. Now, I'm not saying I'll never love again. Because that's silly. You never know what will happen. What I'm saying is that if I don't love again I'm good with that. Being okay with the thought of spinsterhood won't prevent me from looking for love, because really who doesn't love a good horrible first date story every now and then? But it also frees me from feeling the need to find someone, anyone, to be with. And being free means feeling less negative about not being able to find someone. And being less negative about that allows me to be more positive and being more positive attracts more positive energy and that's a good thing. You know, the law of attraction and all.

Because ultimately it's not about finding just anyone to be with. It's about finding the one to be with. Finding that person who makes your heart skip. Finding that person who makes you smile for no reason when you think about them. Finding that person who you will love no matter what and who will love you no matter what. It's not about forcing a relationship or settling because you don't think you can do any better. If I could give my younger self some advice it would be not to force it. Don't stay in a relationship just because you're too scared to leave or because you don't think you'll survive on your own or you don't think anyone else will love you. Love yourself and they will love you too. I think that's a key thing which we all forget at times. You really do have to love yourself first.

And really just love in general. Love your friends, love your family, love your job or your car or your neighbors or your dog or cat or pony or lizard. Just send out love and love will come back to you. Don't force it. As the Beatles so eloquently put it "all you need is love." And while that would be a fitting song for this post, I'm going in a different direction. Instead I give you Echoes by Dar Williams.

Every time you love just a little
Take one step closer, solving a riddle
It echoes all over the world

Every time you opt in to kindness
Make one connection, used to divide us
It echoes all over the world

Send out your own echoes and you might be amazed at what comes back to you.

Because I do so love lists....

2009-11-23T21:29:00.011-05:00

At some point over the weekend I got to thinking about the things I've done over the course of the past couple years that I wouldn't have done if Ms. Ex and I were still together. I thought it would be fun to make a list and share. So, here is a short list of the good that has come from the protracted death of that relationship.

1. Seeing the sunrise from the top of Cadillac Mountain. Twice.

2. Discovering Infinity Music Hall. My very favorite place to see live music.

3. Going on vacations with friends.

4. A wonderful summer fling with FMHW wherein I (re)discovered what I had been missing for all those years with Ms. Ex.

5. Getting back in touch with a friend from college whom I never would have found without, of all things, Match.com.

6. Trying out for the roller derby, not matter how incredibly painful the experience was.

7. Seeing Rent live on stage three times (once on Broadway the week it closed) in less than a year and a half.

8. Seeing Maggie play with her best friend Milo, before and after her back surgery.

9. Learning to knit.

10. Going to my first, and hopefully not last, concert on a beach.

11. Getting back in touch with my creative/hillbilly side. (It's hard to see in the picture but there's a tow rope connecting my car to my lawnmower which is firmly stuck in my swampy lawn. Who knew a sedan could be such a good tow truck?)

12. Holding a baby bunny in my hand.

13. Discovering the fun of wearing my hair in pigtails and wearing high heeled boots. Hell, just the fun of wearing boots.

14. Going sea kayaking with my mother and seeing seals.
15. Spending the morning at Dinosaur State Park with my mother, my Aunt and my first cousins making molds of fossilized dinosaur footprints.

16. Getting back in touch with myself, mind, body and soul. As well as finding a confidence I'd forgotten I had.

17. Meeting the people who have become the friends I'd been missing for years and getting back in touch with old friends through the wonder that is the internet.

And that's just a short list. I'm sure I could keep going but, I'll stop there for now.

I think some Rent lyrics are very appropriate here. From No Day But Today specifically. They're short and sweet, but are so important to remember.

Forget regret -- or life is yours to miss.

The Girl in the Green Shirt

2009-11-13T20:58:00.004-05:00

Last night I did something way out of my comfort zone. I got this silly notion in my head that I should try out for a roller derby team. Because, you know, I haven't been on roller skates in over 15 years. And really? How hard could it be?

So, I drove myself to the tryouts and loaded myself up with gear and did my best not to break something. The following is a run down of the tryouts, in list form of course, which I sent a couple of friends today.

Oh.My.God the pain. THE PAIN.
Over three HOURS of skating is too much when you haven't skated in at least 15 years. WAY too much.
It is totally hard core. We not only skated in a nice oval around the track where I recalled that I am afraid of crossovers (what real skaters do around the corners which entails picking up on of your feet while the other sort of glides out from under you) we also had to jump on our skates, hop from foot to foot, skate on one foot, push people and be pushed from behind, do hip whips and have people whip off of us, skate backwards, walk on the toe stops of our skates, do a T stop, a plow stop, a one knee stop and a two knee stop. I'm a big fan of the knee stops. They were about the only things I could do right.
Let me repeat, THE PAIN.
I was one of the last 3 people to have our skills test (as in "the girl in the green shirt hasn't gone yet"). Yes, a test! Test started at about 10:15 or so. After being on my skates since about 7:20. My legs were beyond rubber by then. Nice.
We also had a one on one interview. Mine was with Black Cherry. She was sweet and also from upstate NY. She told me that a lot of the girls in the league are knitters. She crochets. If she ever moves back to where her family is she will join the team they played last weekend.
The men's derby team is called the Death Quads. Some of them were there helping out as were some of the refs. Major N' fraction was there (we saw him at the bout we went to last weekend.
All the Roller Girls were nice. They did a lot of coaching while we were "learning" all those skills from #3 above. I apparently skate standing up far to straight/upright (skating and walking are NOT the same, who knew?). They worked on "derby stance" with me. A lot. Derby stance hurts.
Imagine you are doing squats for 3 hours. Now imagine doing them while on wheels and skating in an oval surrounded by people who are doing such things as grabbing you from behind while whipping off your or pushing you forward. That is derby stance.
I was not the first to fall. After the first person fell I felt as though I could fall as much as I wanted.
I fell a lot.
I managed to bruise the ring finger of my left hand (under the ring I always wear) on the back side of my hand. I did not notice until I was in the shower this morning. Comparatively, it doesn't hurt.
During one lovely and less than graceful fall there was a tearing sensation in an area where there should NEVER be a tearing sensation. It does not seem to be a problem today.
Have I mentioned THE PAIN?
We were skating for at least 2 hours before we were given our first water break.
There were women skating in jeans.
We were in full gear: skates, knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, helmets and mouth guards. Women were wearing jeans.
I was dripping sweat in my shorts and t-shirt. The women in jeans? Barely breaking a sweat.
I was not the oldest person there. There was a woman in her late 40s, maybe even 50 who started out. I did not see her again after the first 30 minutes or so. I do not blame her for just leaving. I will freely admit that I almost just up and left also. I had a long conversation with myself about it. I stayed.
I am glad I went.
There were like 27 people there trying out. One guy (trying out for ref position maybe?) was in a kilt. Thankfully if he fell I didn't see. I hope he had something on underneath the kilt. Guy in the kilt tripped me at one point. He skated away and didn't even look to see if his trip had hurt me at all. Good think I wasn't left in a crumpled heap.
If we all passed our skills test and our interview we all make the team. There are no max or minimum team sizes.
I don't think I'll play if I make the team. (addendum to the list, I did not make the team. I am absolutely okay with that.)
Why did I not consider that my thighs would BURN? Why was I only concerned with breaking my wrist or ankle or bruising my butt? Those seem like far less likely occurences than the extreme thigh muscle burn. Rubbery thigh muscle burn is awesome.
I got to hear a lovely story about one of their last rookies breaking her femur in three places during what looked like an innocent fall at practice. They were all sort of milling about and down she went. She was apparently nursing twins and didn't bother to tell them. Femur. Three places.
They had to ask if I was nursing because of this woman. Um, no. No, I'm not.
I am not nearly tattooed enough for the derby. Of course the full chest tattoo one of the girls has plus the sleeves probably offsets my complete lack of tattoos.
Rental skates suck.
Good skaters make it look sooooooooo easy.
It is not sooooooo easy.
One of the Death Quads who was an instructor in my little break out group kept giving me looks. I couldn't tell if they were "what the hell is she doing here" looks or "I feel so bad for her" looks of just plain looks of pity. He, unintentionally I'm sure, made me feel rather embarrassed and ashamed. Maybe he was just concerned for my well being. Maybe my perception was off due to the burning in my legs and lower back and the sweat dripping in my eyes.
I think those are the highlights.
Did I mention the pain? Sleeping last night was wicked difficult and that was after I took two extra strength fast acting Advil. I can't tell if the Advil I took this morning helped at all.
They said the pain will be worse the second day after. Looking so forward to tomorrow morning. At least it's Saturday.
When I asked in my initial e-mail about what they were looking for and what was entailed in tryouts I was told that they would mostly be looking at our balance. Um, I think there's a teeny tiny bit more that they left out. Just sayin'.
I have a new found appreciation for just how hard these ladies work. And just how hard they worked during the bout we watched even though they made it look relatively easy. It is very much not easy.
And that my friends is "Jess auditions for the roll of blocker" in a not so small nutshell. My comfy couch seems far more my speed after having been through the ordeal of last night. Perhaps I should just buy a treadmill and call it good. Or find a nice pickup basketball game now and then. Something that doesn't involve a ton of squatting with wheels strapped to your feet.......

There are no lyrics for this post. Sorry. Just extreme admiration for the women (and men) that play roller derby. These women are true athletes and I heartily applaud them. Brava ladies, you are rock stars.

Stepping out of the comfort zone

2009-11-09T19:49:00.004-05:00

As I started typing this blog Annie Lennox's Why popped up on the radio. I'd say that's an interesting coincidence.

This week I'm going to step out of my comfort zone. It's a very scary prospect for me. But I am also incredibly excited. I'm not going to say how I'm stepping out of said zone, if it goes well I'll be posting about it soon enough. If it doesn't go well then at least I tried and I won't look back in a month or two or six or whatever and wish I'd tried. Forget regret as the song goes.

And that's what I'm trying to do. Forget regret. This past weekend I went to a memorial service for a co-worker who died of brain cancer. As I sat there listening to the people she chose to speak (she planned the service herself before she died, and if you knew her you'd know doing that was soooooo her) the one thing that really struck me is how much she lived in the moment all the time. How unafraid she was to let loose with a full body laugh or dance without a care in the world. How confident she was in herself and what a larger than life presence she was.

I got thinking as I sat there watching my co-workers dab the tears from their eyes that I don't do nearly enough living in the moment. Sure, I laugh out loud as much as I can (it adds years to your life after all! and it's fun) but for my entire life I've been super concerned with how people perceive me. I have nearly always tried my hardest not to make a fool of myself.

When I was a little kid (okay, all through school) I got picked on. I was a sensitive kid, hell I'm probably a sensitive adult too if I cared to analyze that. Ever since I became aware that people might laugh at me and not in a nice way but rather they were being mean I think I've tried my hardest to make sure I don't put myself in situations where I'll get laughed at. Now, that's not to say I haven't done silly things now and then and I certainly do know how to laugh at myself and have a good time. But what I haven't done regularly is put myself out there in situations where I'm not confident I'll be good at them and succeed. I don't do failure well.

I can't remember the last time I danced for instance. Seems like a small thing right? But I'm totally self conscious that I'm not doing it right. (is there even a right way?). Get a few drinks in me and that might loosen me up enough to dance, but I don't drink that much. I'm very much in control of myself almost 100% of the time. If I were to give myself advice it would be "loosen the fuck up!"

I can't remember the last really big risk I took where I put myself out there to be judged when I wasn't sure I knew what I was doing or that I was good at something. And I'm not talking dating, that's different. Still a scary prospect but in a different sort of way for me. Dating is like a mutual interview and when I think of it like that I can totally handle it.

And speaking of dating how awkward is it to run into the last person you went out on a date with after you e-mailed them to tell them you had no romantic feelings for them but you'd like to hang out as friends and they never respond? I'll tell you how awkward. It is sooooooo freaking awkward. Wicked uncomfortably awkward. Can't say I want that to happen again any time soon. Or ever really.

Anyway later this week I step out of my comfort zone. This is a good thing for me but it's a very scary prospect. I'm completely nervous and am having flash backs to middle/high school. But, in the end I think that's a good thing. I'll try to remember to post with an update afterward. Depending how it goes that is. I'd rather not be laughed at.....

I recently discovered Brandi Carlile. I can't believe I didn't find her sooner. She's really great. Today's lyrics are from her song Dreams. I particularly relate to the passage in bold.

Dreams, I have dreams when I'm awake when I'm asleep
And you, you are in my dreams
You're underneath my skin, how am I so weak

And now in my dreams,

I can feel the weight, I can just come clean
I keep it to myself, I know what it means
I can't have you, but I have dreams

How long, can you hold your breath?
Can you count to ten, can you let it pass?
Keep, can you keep it in?
Keep it behind the lashes, can you make it last?

And now in my dreams, I can feel the weight
I can just come clean

I keep it to myself, I know what it means
I can't have you, but I have dreams
Oh, I have dreams, I have dreams

Mind, can you read my mind?
Has it come undone, am I showin' signs?

And now, in my dreams
I can feel the weight, I can just come clean
I keep it to myself, I know what it means
I can't have you, but I have dreams
I have dreams, I have, I have, I have dreams

I am a lousy blogger

2009-11-03T20:36:00.003-05:00

That's right. I said it. I am a lousy blogger. I have such good intentions to post more. But work is so draining lately that by the time I get home I can't remember any of the things I thought I should blog about let along be coherent enough to string words together to form these complex structures known as sentences. I know, excuses, excuses. Whatever. Here's a pretty picture to make up for my lack of posts.

For the rest of the post I'm going to list things I am grateful for. I'd rather bitch about work, but that serves no purpose right now and won't change anything so I'm going to focus on the positive instead.

I am grateful for the following, in no particular order:
1. Chocolate in all shapes and sizes.
2 Down comforters when the weather outside is crisp.
3. Pretty yarn to make endless hats from.
4. A dog that is always happy to see me.
5. Two cats that are sometimes happy to see me (they are cats after all).
6. The fact that I have a job and health care benefits.
7. Laughing with friends over really stupid stuff.
8. Texting.
9. Comfortable pajama pants.
10. Water. Sounds silly I know, but I love me a nice cold but not too cold glass of water.
11. Song lyrics.
12. Discovering a new favorite song.
13. E-mail.
14. Chocolate. It's so good it deserves a second mention.
15. Happy memories and having the rest of my life to make more of them.

That's enough for now. No lyrics for this post. When I have a little more brain power I'll be back to my normal posts.

Possibilities

2009-10-21T19:36:00.004-04:00

A few weeks before going on vacation in September I felt this need, not just a want, but a most definite NEED to start replacing my jewelery. I don't really wear bracelets (I feel like they get in the way, but I wear a watch all the time, no I don't know how they are any different, but in my head they are) and I don't wear necklaces anymore (most likely in protest of Ms. Ex who sometimes wouldn't let me leave the house until I'd gone back into the bedroom and put on a necklace to accompany my t-shirt. I wish I was joking. Also I'd have to put on a belt if I wasn't wearing one. Again, wish I was joking.). What I really wanted, needed, to replace were my rings. I love rings and I wanted some that didn't remind me of the past. I wanted some that had absolutely no connection to Ms. Ex.

I spent hours shopping for rings online and flipping through the catalogs that inexplicably show up in my mailbox (thank you whoever sold my name and address, I just love getting catalogs that I immediately throw away, good use of our precious natural resources). You know what? There are some god awful looking rings for sale right now. God. Awful. I'm talking fugly. Stuff I wouldn't be caught dead wearing. Stuff nobody should be caught dead wearing. I am a simple person. I like simple things. I wanted basic silver rings. These are apparently harder to find than I thought they'd be. Who knew?

Eventually I found a few I liked, ordered them and then waited impatiently for them to arrive. Two I love, one I like and one is eh. But that's how things go sometimes right? The ring below I wear all the time. I even sleep in it. I only take it off to shower. The inscription on the outside is in Italian and I have a feeling it doesn't say what it's supposed to say as is typically the case with these sorts of things. It's probably close, but off just a touch (Francesca, can you translate?). But it's the inscription inside that caught my eye.

I wear the ring all the time to remind myself of what it says. Anything is possible. No matter where you are in your life right now ANYTHING is possible. ANYTHING at all.

And that my friends is not always easy to remember is it? Life tends to drag us all down at times. We get mired in the day to day and we forget about our dreams. We forget TO dream. And that's not good.

I'm trying to hold on to my dreams. I'm trying to remember to actually dream them. I'm trying to prioritize, figure out what I want badly and what I want a little less. Where I'd like to be five years from now, ten years from now, for the rest of my life. That is HARD. I do know the most important thing to me is to be happy.

People have different definitions of happy. For some it involves money and things (and more money to buy more things). For me happy means friends and fun and family and the simple things in life, preferably with my "one," my soul mate at my side. But if she doesn't materialize for a while that's okay too. It'll happen in time.

And in the meantime, I've got my ring to remind me that anything is possible, to remind me to hold onto my dreams and to work toward them no matter how small a step I take in their direction. To remind me TO dream.

Lyrics for this post come from a song that for a while was the ring tone on my cell phone, Happy Together by The Turtles.

Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it's only right
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight
So happy together

If I should call you up, invest a dime**
And you say you belong to me and ease my mind
Imagine how the world could be, so very fine
So happy together

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
When you're with me baby the skies'll be blue
For all my life

**talk about immortalizing the price of a phone call. If this song were written today the line would be something like "If I Facebooked you."

Snain, Dreams and Knitting

2009-10-15T18:47:00.006-04:00

Okay, so it's snaining. For those of you who don't know what that means it's snowing and raining at the same time. The people on TV who use a magic eight ball to predict the weather often call this a wintery mix. I prefer snaining. I also prefer it to snain in say, oh I don't know, December and NOT the middle of October. WTF? As if not having summer wasn't enough we don't get to really have fall either and we go straight to winter? Seriously? I am not prepared for winter yet. And by prepared I mean mentally prepared. I haven't even gotten used to it being dark so freaking early yet (Hello S.A.D., welcome back. I have not missed you in the least). I haven't gotten over the fact that it rained for the entire month of June. Or was it July? I can't even remember now, I just remember that it rained every freaking day and it was COLD. Cold and wet and my yard was (still is) a swamp. I was really hoping for a nice, mild, long autumn. Guess I'm going to be disappointed again.

In other news I am nearly finished knitting my first hat. It took about eleventy hundred tries to get the gauge correct, and I frogged way more attempts than I'd like to admit, but by golly I believe I finally did it. Up next is transferring the knitting from the circular needles to the double pointed needles (a.k.a. scary sticks). This will be my first experience with the scary sticks and I'm a tad intimidated. But today at lunch while eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich I watched some videos about proper usage of the scary sticks and I'm a bit more confident I won't poke my eye out with them. Or ruin my hat. I really like my hat. A lot.

The picture doesn't even to it justice in my opinion. I'm knitting it with Malabrigo worsted weight yarn in the Stonechat colorway on size 8 needles using this pattern from my favorite knitting blogger. She explains exactly how to do each step in terms I can understand (honestly, best. pattern. ever.). As a novice knitter I really really really appreciate that. I will be using this pattern again for sure!

On Tuesday I went to see the movie Whip It. I loved it and I soooooo want to play roller derby now. Or at the very least go see an actual bout. That night I had a very involved dream. Shocking for me, I know. In said dream I was playing rugby which is apparently how my brain translated my desire to play roller derby. As I was playing rugby (which, by the way, I have never played or watched and don't know the rules of) folks from the other team tried to tackle me. So there they are hanging off my back when I realize that it's FMHW and her roommate.

And why was FMHW in my dream you ask? Honestly? While watching Whip It I kept staring at the skin on Marcia Gay Harden's neck and thinking how much it reminded me of FMHW. Yes, I know that sounds incredibly strange and perhaps creepy. I am well aware of that thank you very much. But you asked. Okay, you didn't ask and I'm just talking to myself now, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I'm positive that's what prompted her appearance in my dream. I haven't really been thinking about her at all lately. But what the dream, and thus my subconscious, was trying to tell me was I need to shake her, get her off my back, in the most literal sense. And really I'm not sure it was her specifically but more my past in general. I don't even need to look that up in a dream dictionary in order to interpret it. In the dream I believe I said something to her and her roommate as they were hanging off my back and I was dragging them around and she responded but I can't recall the conversation now. Should have written it down. Oh well. I should start a blog just for the crazy dreams I have. Maybe someday...

Anyway, it's snaining and damp and cold and I have a hat to finish and I'm soooo tired. And tonight is the night that's packed with TV shows for me. I should just go to bed, but I know I won't so I'm not going to kid myself. Lyrics for this post are from Dream On by Aerosmith.

Every time that I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face gettin' clearer
Th past is gone
It went by like dusk to dawn
Isn't that the way
Everybody's got their dues in life to pay

I know what nobody knows
Where it comes and where it goes
I know it's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know how to win

Happy Got Day Maggie

2009-10-14T18:26:00.008-04:00

Tomorrow is Maggie's Got Day. Four years ago tomorrow my happy goofy little beagle came into my life. A lot has changed for both of us since that day and in the end those changes have all been for the better.

Four years ago tonight Ms. Ex and I were up for most of the night. It had been raining for 9 straight days. We got something like 20 inches of rain during that time and as Murphy and his damn law dictate right before we were going to go to bed our basement started leaking. So, we spent the night bickering, using the shop vac to suck up the water as it came in, building dams with towels and anything else we could find, venturing outside in the torrential downpour to try to extend our downspouts as far from the house as possible, creating a dam in the driveway to divert the water which was flowing down the hill from the lot next door and ending up against our foundation and praying that our sump pump would continue to work even though it started smoking around 2 am.

Needless to say we were exhausted and very cranky when we went to go pick up Maggie. She'd had a rough time of it herself having spent a couple days on a transport truck as it made it's way up to New England from Tennessee. We waited patiently as one large dog after another (mostly Labs or Lab mixes) was led off the transport truck and handed over to their new owners. Finally off came Maggie, this tiny little dog who seemed more intent on finding a good place to pee than the stranger holding her leash. After what might have been a world record length pee we got her into the car and headed home to our water logged house. As we drove away realized she was covered in her own poop. Awesome.

Maggie shortly after arriving at her new home.

One year ago at this time Maggie couldn't walk. She was in a lot of pain and though she didn't know it yet she was about 10 days away from major surgery to repair the herniated disc between her T11 and T12 vertebrae.

This is Maggie a couple days after the surgery.

She did not have a good Got Day last year. Neither did I.

Thankfully the hell that was the month of October 2008 has passed us by. Maggie has recovered nicely and I think more than anything else right now she simply lacks the confidence in herself rather than the ability to do certain things. I will say that all my animals are due for their yearly trip to the vet and I have been putting it off because it was about a week after I took them all in for their last yearly exams that Maggie got sick. I'm scared that's going to happen again even though I know that's crazy thinking so I haven't made the call yet. I will though. Soon.

Maggie seven months later, in May of 2009.

So, Happy Got Day Maggie!!! Thank you for bringing so much joy to my life. Thank you for always being happy to see me no matter how much pain you were in or how depressed and just plain not fun I might have been. And even when our lives turned upside down I knew I could count on your smile and your wagging tail and your silliness to bring a smile to my face. You'll never know how much good you've done me and I can only hope I'm repaying you for that in some small way. Mommy loves you very much.

God that got mushy huh? No lyrics for this post unless you want to sing Happy Got Day to Maggie in the tune of Happy Birthday. She might howl along with you though....

You've come a long way baby....

2009-10-05T19:46:00.005-04:00

I started re-reading The Grapes of Wrath at the end of last week. It's been a few years and frankly in this economy it kind of seems apropos. As I picked up the book to read before going to sleep last night it occurred to me that I've had this battered and worn copy for quite a while. That in itself isn't all that unusual. After all, us bibliophiles tend to hang onto books that we enjoyed or that have meaning to us.

What occurred to me as I picked up the book last night was where I purchased the book, a Salvation Army in Ithaca, NY. That's where I bought a lot of books right after I graduated from college. See, I was poor. Or rather, I was po', so poor I couldn't even afford the other O and the R. I worked as many hours as I could get at an Auntie Anne's pretzel store in the mall, but there weren't a whole lot of hours, especially at first. An auspicious start to my life in the "real world." And if I'm being honest, the gig at Auntie Anne's wasn't even my first job out of college. I worked a total of one day in the bakery at Tops (I cannot for the life of me remember if there should be an apostrophe in Tops...anyway....). Tops is (was?) a grocery store.

But I digress....college was a great experience for me. I learned as much outside of the classroom as I did in the classroom. Truth be told I was a very young 18 years old when I went off to college. Sheltered and probably a little naive and from a very very small very homogeneous town. So, for me the experiences outside the classroom were as important, if not more so, than what I learned while in class.

What I didn't do in college was prepare for the future. I never made a life plan or even figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think I thought that would all just magically happen (and in the end, it kind of has, to some degree). So, there I was during senior week (the week between the end of finals and commencement) scrambling around to find a place to live, never mind finding a job. The one thing I was certain of at that point in my life was that I wanted to stay close to my college so I could be close to my then girlfriend who was still in college. As always, I followed my heart. The story of my life which I've come to accept as who I am and how I'll likely always be. Following your heart is far better than following some other things that's for sure.

Honestly though since I didn't have a life plan staying close to the place that felt so very much like home to me seemed as good a plan as any. At that point in my life I didn't have the greatest relationship with my parents (ALL my doing not theirs, they have been the best parents anyone could ask for) so moving home just wasn't an option in my mind. Besides I'm from a town which is barely a dot on the map. If I'd moved home my options for employment would have been working at the creamery, the gas station or the other gas station. Oh, or maybe at the school where my dad was a teacher. So, Auntie Anne's wasn't really all that bad in the scheme of things.

So, to Ithaca I moved. Into my very first apartment. I had no furniture, just my car full of crap and a kitten that a friend had given me as a graduation present.

Being po' I did what any person would do, I went to my local Salvation Army to see what I could scrounge up for myself. I managed to find a cheap mattress (I don't even think I got a box spring for it, just the mattress), a $5 couch and a $10 recliner. The mattress was still in a bag and was new from what I could tell but the couch and recliner were battered and had seen better days. But they were cheap and they were mine. And honestly? They were pretty damn comfortable.

While buying my furniture I discovered that the Salvation Army also sold books. I was in heaven! Books for ten cents or a quarter! Books I could afford to buy even though I was po'! (yes, I do know about libraries, but I like to actually own the books and be able to spend as long reading them as I'd like and then keep them after I'm done with them or pass them along to someone else who will enjoy them) After that discovery I made it a point to check out the book selection pretty often. I'd wander the whole store while I was there. It was a cheap way to kill time since I didn't really have any friends (that statement alone could make for a whole series of posts, perhaps I'll cover that topic at a later date) and I wasn't yet working full time.

I don't think I have many books left in my collection from that time in my life. Just like I don't have many other things from that era any more. The mattress went to my friend Karen when my parents couldn't bear the thought of me sleeping on an $84 mattress on the floor and bought me something slightly more expensive. With a box spring! And a cheap metal frame to raise it off the ground! Oh the luxury!! The couch and recliner went back to the Salvation Army when I moved to CT (to be with Ms. Ex). In fact, the recliner didn't even make it back into the store as a donation. While unloading the truck in the parking lot a customer saw it and asked if I was getting rid of it. I gave it to him for free. I'd say it was my good deed for that day but since my apartment was flea infested the recliner might also have been flea infested. I sincerely apologize to whomever I gave the recliner to if I infested your house also.

I've come a very long way since the days when I lived in flea infested apartments where my neighbors kept their gas grill in their bedroom (god how I wish I had taken a picture of that!). I have a house now. And brand new furniture that I bought at a store and had delivered to my house. I have a mattress, a box spring AND an actual bed frame with a matching dresser and night stands. I have a good job and (a little) money in the bank. I have health insurance and a car that's paid for. And I still have the cat my friend gave me as a graduation present. He's a bit larger now however....

And if my neighbors DO keep their gas grill in their bedroom our houses are far enough apart that should they set their house on fire it likely won't do any damage to mine. All in all I am incredibly fortunate.

That's what I thought about last night as I picked up my beat up copy of The Grapes of Wrath as I settled into bed. I've come a long way since my days as a newly minted college graduate with a degree in English with a concentration in creative writing and a minor in Sociology who made pretzels for a living. That's something to be very proud of if I do say so myself.

I was listening to music as I wrote this post, the acoustic channel of Sirius Satellite radio that I get on my dish (which was THE deciding factor for not changing my TV service earlier this fall) and up popped the song Walk On The Ocean by Toad The Wet Sprocket. This song will always remind me of college and the period of time directly after college and thus it seems fitting for this post.

We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everything's better, everything's safe

Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone

And half an hour later we packed up our things
We said we'd send letters and all those little things
And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
It seemed they'd already forgotten we'd came

Now we're back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don't know you
And trust is a joke
We don't even have pictures
Just memories to hold
That grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old

Happy Place

2009-09-28T21:33:00.003-04:00

Sunrise
Originally uploaded by My Life Through Lyrics

Bar Harbor is my happy place. I would like to be there now. I feel like I'm even more of a hermit now than I was before I went on vacation. Perhaps this nesting, cocooning instinct which seems so strong in me right now is just a reaction to the change in seasons, at least that's what I hope it is. I'm feeling the need to be alone a lot, but not necessarily wanting to spend all my time alone and then being kind of lonely while I am alone. I know, it makes no sense, but then again when do feelings make total sense?

I hate that it's getting dark so early even though I do love the crispness in the air not to mention that the leaves are starting to change bringing their beautiful autumnal rainbow to New England. But that of course means the season of long dark nights is quickly approaching.

And I do have this niggling thought in the back of my mind that I need to get out more, meet more people and all that. That thought was hammered home again today after receiving an e-mail about the death of a first year student at the college where I work. You have to live for now and not tomorrow and I'm trying but it's not always easy.

Also, I'm (still) looking for my motivation and my sparkle. Every once and a great while I feel a tiny spark, a prick at my creativity which taunts me into thinking my motivation is returning. I think I'm stuck in a rut that I just need to kick myself out of (in more ways than one). The hard thing though is figuring out how to kick myself out of that rut.

Until then I just ride the wave and try to figure out just exactly which direction I want my life to take. I'll watch a lot of Charmed on DVD. I'll watch all my regularly scheduled TV shows. I'll feel bad about how much TV I watch but not do anything to change it. I'll feel bad that I don't exercise more but not do anything to change that. I'll feel bad that I'm not writing or that I'm not taking more photographs but I won't do anything to change it. And then one day I'll wake up and I won't feel like this anymore. I'm looking forward to that day.

I think this post deserves a Sarah McLachlan song so I'm going with Fear.

Morning smiles
Like the face of a new born child
Innocent unknowing
Winter's end
Promises of a long lost friend
Speaks to me of comfort

But I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
Here in this lonely place

Whoops

2009-09-23T18:47:00.002-04:00

So, I haven't posted in a while. Work blew up at the beginning of the month and then there was the second bout of car trouble the day before I was leaving for vacation. And then a much needed week's vacation during which I had hoped to find my sparkle. Sparkle wasn't exactly found, but vacation was restorative and frankly I wish I could have stayed there longer. Maybe forever. And of course this weekend I am having house guests and have been busy getting ready for them.

All this to say that I know I've neglected this blog. I'll get back to regular posting soon, I just need things to settle down a little bit first. And for my sparkle to at least show me a brief glimpse of itself. That'd be nice. Very nice.

Are we all Pavlov's dogs?

2009-09-06T22:47:00.005-04:00

Some people evoke visceral reactions in us. These reactions run the gamut from love to hate, from passion to agony. And certainly not every person we know or meet or see evokes these visceral reactions. A physical response often accompanies these emotions. That flutter in your stomach as you catch the eye of the woman (or man) you love from across a crowded room. Or the rending pain you feel when you unexpectedly run into an ex after a bad breakup. Our bodies respond with a physical memory of emotions, feelings, thoughts, etc.

These physical responses linger. The mere thought of FMHW for instance causes the corners of my mouth to rise in a slight smile which might not even be seen by the casual observer. But I can feel it, I know it's happening. She evokes other physical responses in me as well. I can still hear her saying certain things (saying isn't exactly the right word here, but it'll do) and it's almost as if my body doesn't know she's not right here next to me.

Conversely, Ms. Ex evokes a gut wrenching feeling of loss and tears. No matter that it's been years since we've been together. No matter that even before we went our separate ways we weren't in love and we weren't happy. No matter that I'm pretty sure I was unhappy and depressed for about half of our relationship, give or take a year. No matter that I do not want to be with her. The tears still flow freely when it comes to her. And not just the kind that barely leak over your eye lids before slowly trailing down your cheeks. Nope, not those. Instead she induces the flood of tears that cause your vision to swim and leaves you gasping for breath and feeling like you've been punched in the stomach.

What I don't understand, and perhaps I am not meant to, is why I still react this way to Ms. Ex. I'm sure there's a lesson to be learned from it and perhaps when I do the feeling of being punched in the gut will go away. She e-mailed me yesterday, Ms. Ex, wanting to let me know she'd been "thinking about this a lot" and asking me to get together to "catch up" over "coffee, a meal or a hike." I had an immediate flashback to the end of our relationship when we were having "talks" that lasted forever, went nowhere, and where the same things were said over and over and over by her, words that were just lip service in the end. And Ms. Ex nearly always wanted to have these "talks" over dinner which is bad enough to do in the privacy of your own home let alone when you're out to dinner as was nearly always the case with us. A restaurant is the LAST place I want to have a talk about a failing relationship. So, needless to say I don't want to "catch up" with her over a meal.

Honestly, her e-mail ruined my afternoon and evening (great way to kick off a holiday weekend). I replied to her message tonight and told her (again) that I did not want to get together. I'm hoping this time I was clear enough that she gets the hint (how many different ways can you say "no, I don't want to get together, I'm good with the way things are and all the not talking we're doing"?). I've been telling her this for over 18 months now so we'll see if it sticks this time. I expect I'll get another e-mail from her in the next few months trying again. I think she hates not knowing what's going on in my life. She was in control for so many years. Now that she's not I don't think she knows how to handle it.

In the meantime I choose to hold onto the memories that make me smile. The thoughts and people who evoke the good responses from my body. The ones that make me tingle, my heart flutter and my mood lighter. And sometime soon I'll be lucky enough to have a woman in my life with whom I'll be making new memories and who will evoke new, happy, physical responses from my body. I'm formally putting in my order to the Universe for this woman right now. The specifics of this order I won't relay here, but I know what they are and so does the Universe. Now, I wonder how long shipping will take? Do you think the Universe uses UPS, FedEx or the US Postal Service?

I had a hard time picking lyrics for this post. How do you pick lyrics that relay in words the visceral reactions of our bodies? How do you pick lyrics that apply not only to the tears you shed over an ex you're so much better off without but also to the ex that some part of you still wishes wasn't an ex? It's not easy. I decided to go with Baby Can I Hold You by Tracy Chapman. I think in some ways it really does apply to both Ms. Ex and FMHW. And the lyrics also fit with my deep seated feeling that if only I could say or write the perfect words....

Sorry
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like sorry like sorry

Forgive me
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like forgive me forgive me

But you can say baby
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
At the right time you'd be mine

I love you
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like I love you I love you

(And I'd like to take this opportunity to say to FMHW, if you ever stumble across this blog and recognize yourself please know that I'm not some obsessive stalker who can't let go of the past, just know you had a profound impact on my life. I wish you all the love and happiness in the world. You're very capable of it and you most certainly deserve it.)

Horoscopes and Dreams and Signs and I may read into things too much while also overthinking

2009-09-03T17:58:00.004-04:00

I enjoy reading my horoscope. I think it's fun and some days I think it's spot on (and others it's just a bunch of hooey). I usually read it in the morning after I get to work. I don't read the newspaper and I don't turn on the radio, TV or computer before I leave the house in the morning. I'm inundated with enough technology as soon as I get to work, I cherish my quiet time in the morning. Also, I am not a morning person. In case you're wondering I am an Aries, the fiery ram (does it say that in my profile somewhere? I feel like it does). Personally I don't believe I'm overly ramish or fiery, but then again I might be a little too close to myself to really be objective.

This morning as I settled into my work routine I pulled up my horoscope and as I read it I was all "wait, what? Really? WTF does that mean?" Here's the part that elicited that reaction: "A dream, a story or a symbol bears a message about your love life now. Consciously cultivate your ability to see connections, interpret signs and understand your world as an interconnected whole."

Now, I know what it means, but what does it mean? And I ask that question because I remember one thing and one thing only from my dream last night (which is unusual in itself for me since I typically have such long and involved and vivid dreams about things like Ms. Ex trying to frame me for a murder she committed or me bringing my cats to my college reunion where I find that the dorm we're staying in is also being used by some southern college football team, but I digress). And the one thing I remember from last night's dream is that FMHW was in it and not in a bad way but not in a way like we were living the Hollywoodized happily ever after of the movies. But she was definitely there and there were definitely feelings on both our parts and they were very strong and there was a strong feeling of longing on both sides as well.

So, what does the dream mean in relation to my horoscope? What message does this dream bear about my love life? Am I supposed to contact her? I haven't seen her in over a year. I haven't heard from her in over 8 months. And why am I dreaming about her? Why her and not Ms. Ex who I spent nearly 9 years of my life with? Why can't I just let this damn relationship or fling or summer fun or whatever you want to call it go?

It's not as though I don't know there are other fish in the sea. It's not as though I'm not actively seeking out said other fish. I am not sitting here pining for her every night, feeling sad and lonely and incomplete. I'm perfectly happy to be quite honest. So why this dream? Why last night? And what am I supposed to interpret from the dream? Because clearly this dream is the sign about my love life to which my horoscope is referring, what else could it be?

I just don't know what to do with this information. I cannot process it. I cannot reach a logical conclusion. Half of me is saying "oh what the hell, just send her a quick e-mail saying hi" and the other half of me is saying "NO! Don't do that because what if you DON'T hear back from her? How will that make you feel? Crushed right? So just ignore the sign, don't do anything, you're better off that way."

Which half should I listen to? I believe that the Universe will continue to provide the signs and that they'll continue to pop up until you listen to what they have to say. And honestly? This isn't the first dream I've had that she's been a part of in some way, shape or form recently. It's like the third or fourth. I just chose to ignore the first few. Is that a sign in itself or is my subconscious just trying to work some shit out? Needless to say I'm pretty deep in my own head right now trying to figure all this out.

Perhaps I should listen to a different part of my horoscope which states "Don't be rushed. When things are unclear, it's best to stop and ask questions." But ask questions of who??? And it also tells me my "intuition should be a good guide." But I feel as though my intuition is on vacation. So, I just don't know what I'm supposed to make of all this. That seems to be the story of my life. But that's okay, I will learn something from this. I just don't know what that'll be.

Today's lyrics come from the song Hello by Schuyler Fisk. She's a new discovery for me and I rather like her.

I wonder who you're loving now
I'm guessing we won't work things out

you know what they say
you can't have it so you want it back
I'm way past that
believe me
if you could be in my life
like you've been on my mind
it'd be so easy

Hello
it's me again
it's three days now
that you've been in my dreams
and i don't know, i guess
you've just been on my mind
i don't know, i guess
i think about you all the time

Lost Rent or Rent Lost?

2009-08-26T19:42:00.003-04:00

Wow, it's been a while since I've posted. Whoops! I go through spurts. Hopefully this is the start of a lots of posting spurt. We'll see. I haven't been much into writing lately. Writing anything, blogs, poems, stories, essays, anything besides e-mail and tweets has not been appealing. Not sure why but I've learned that the best thing I can do in most cases is just go with the flow.

An interestingly random thing came up in an e-mail chain with some friends today. We were talking about the TV show Lost. I am behind by two and a half seasons and have been trying to catch up so I can watch this coming season live (or more likely on DVR). Francesca jokingly made a reference to a Rent singalong at the end of season 5 even going so far as casting a few of the rolls and it just snowballed from there.

Of course I can think of nothing better than combining two things so dear to me so I've finished the casting (with Francesca's help of course). So, here you go, the characters of Lost recast as the characters of Rent.

Jack Shephard as Roger Davis
Charlie Pace as Mark Cohen
Desmond Hume as Tom Collins
James "Sawyer" Ford as Benjamin "Benny" Coffin III
Sun Kwon as Maureen Johnson
Jin Kwon as Joanne Jefferson
Hugo "Hurley" Reyes as Angel Shunard
Kate Austen as Mimi Marquez
Claire Littleton as Alexi Darling
Mr. Eko as Paul the Life Support Group Leader
John Locke as Mr. Grey
Ana-Lucia Cortez as A Woman with Bags (or Bag Lady)
Sayid Jarrah as Man with Squeegee and Cop
Ben Linus as Steve (Steve leads the cast in the song Will I which seems kind of fitting for Ben)
And of course, Vincent the Dog as Evita

Yes, I am obsessed with Rent. Your point?

Obviously the lyrics for this post have to come from Rent so I give you some of What You Own.

You're living in America
At the end of the millennium
You're living in America
Where it's like the Twilight Zone
And when you're living in America
At the end of the millennium
You're what you own
So I own not a notion
I escape and ape content
I don't own emotion -- I rent

Boots

2009-08-14T22:01:00.005-04:00

I am all about boots recently. Well, recently as in the last few days. Or really since I saw a pair that looked amazing on a woman at the Dar Williams concert on Sunday night. I have now spent hours on the Zappos website looking at everything out there in boot land. I ordered one pair this morning. I went for the ones that were on sale for half price instead of the ones that cost more than what I spend on groceries for three weeks. I hope I like them as much in person as I like them online.

The pair I ordered are on the casual side. I can probably get away with wearing them at work every once in a while. Maybe. I'll have a better idea about that when they get here. I now want to find a pair I can wear to work more consistently. As in, they need to be a bit more dressy. Here are the problems with that. I apparently have VERY expensive taste in shoes. I don't do heels and I certainly don't do shoes that are overly girly. The heel issue limits my options somewhat as does the needing something that's not overly girly. But then of course I start thinking, well, a chunky heel might not be too bad...

I found a pair I like that I could definitely wear to work and that are "my style" but they are slightly out of my price range. And by slightly I mean they are bordering on being a frivolous purchase for me and I'm trying hard not to be frivolous with my spending. However, I do need new work shoes and boots are considered shoes after all so in that case they would be an investment and would be put to good use and would only be a tad more expensive than what I normally spend on shoes for work. That's assuming I'd wear them that is, but that remains to be seen. And how exactly do you figure out if you'll wear the boots often unless you purchase them? In other words: rock - Jess starting at boots online - hard place.

So, I'm going to sleep on it. I will probably wait until the pair I ordered this morning arrive before I make any decisions. That said, I want the pair I ordered to be here now.

I think the lyrics for this post should be rather obvious. They are, of course, from These Boots Were Made For Walking by Nancy Sinatra.

You keep lyin' when you oughta be truthin'
and you keep losin' when you oughta not bet.
You keep samin' when you oughta be changin'.
Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet.

These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do
one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.

A short list

2009-08-04T23:05:00.003-04:00

I thought of some things today (at different times) that I wanted to blog about so here's a short list for you.

1. We had a very productive writing group meeting tonight. And it felt really good. Darn near inspiring. I think my motivation might be returning. This is a very good thing as my motivation has apparently been on an extended vacation somewhere with a beach, a stack of good books, a personal chef and her dog. She's unhappy at leaving paradise but knows it's time to get back to work. She's still a bit grumbly and I believe also jet lagged, but that's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix.

2. I wonder if the folks from my writing group read my blog? If so, hi guys! Hope you enjoy it.

3. If you don't already know this about me, I'm gay. Very very gay. I am reminded of this on nearly a daily basis, especially when I see a woman I find attractive (such as young IT girl at work who hooked up our new student work stations yesterday and who I believe shares my first name and who I also think is gay, anyway, moving on....). Being gay is simply a part of who I am and it is what it is.

4. However, when you're gay you don't just come out once and that's that. You have to come out over and over and over and over again. Anytime you meet new people and something comes up in conversation that requires you to go into detail about yourself you have to come out all over again. It gets easier with time and the more you do it the easier it is, but when you haven't had to do it for a while you kind of forget about it and it gets hard again. I was reminded of this tonight in my writing group meeting. One of the other members was commenting on a piece I wrote and asked a very good question about whether or not it's important to know that the woman in the piece was in a gay marriage or partnership. My answer was "well, it's autobiographical, so..." which didn't really answer her question. But it did out me to two new people that I barely know which is always uncomfortable (for me at least) for a few minutes. And really the answer to her question is "no, it's probably not important to know that."

5. I was looking through old e-mails at work today trying to find something I know I have but I cannot for the life of me remember where I filed it. I keep nearly every single e-mail I receive or I send at work (except for a six month span of time which got wiped out during an unfortunate computer crash, and I mean a literal crash where my tower fell over and landed on the hard drive wiping out anything I hadn't backed up and of course I hadn't backed up in six months). I am a big fan of CYA (cover your ass) especially as it relates to work. I cannot tell you how many times being such an electronic packrat has come in very very handy. But being a packrat like that also gives me a chance to reflect on how far I've come, both professionally and personally, when I stumble across old e-mails as I'm looking for something else. Today I found an e-mail from two years and three-ish weeks ago (mid-July 2007). During that time I was deseperately searching for a house as Ms. Ex and I had sold ours and set a closing date that was rapidly approaching. It was also the end of our fiscal year at work which is always hellish. My reply below was in response to a question from a friend and former colleague who simply asked "how's the search for a house coming?" in an e-mail exchange with me and two other friends/former colleagues.

Let's see...the people that are buying our house are being complete asses about the inspection report so we're not even sure if the deal is still going through. They agreed to an Aug. 22nd closing date and now want to move it to Aug. 15th which is out of the question. I made an offer on a house last Friday that I loved, but it wasn't accepted. I found out after I'd already written and submitted the offer that there were other offers waiting to be presented on it. I waited all weekend to find that out and then found out on Monday that I didn't get the house. I saw two houses yesterday and six today and I'm not in love with any of them. I'm up the creek without a paddle right now and I'm leaving tomorrow for a few days in ME that Ms. Ex (note, name changed to protect the, um, well to protect me really) is now giving me shit about because I don't have a deal locked in on a house and she thinks I should only be going for 2 days instead of 4. Joanie (the dog Ms. Ex now has) had knee surgery yesterday to top it all off. Oh and I'm totally PMSing so I'm a total emotional wreck. How are you all?

I had totally forgotten what a shitting fucking summer that was for me (okay, okay it was a shitty fucking 18 months or so really). I have come a very long way since then and I am so very very thankful for that. Life really is good when you aren't bogged down by negative energies. Life, I love you and am grateful for all of the good things you've sent my way! I cannot thank you enough.

6. Lyrics for this post come from a song that will always remind me of college, I Kissed A Girl by Jill Sobule (this is not the same song as the one of the same name that's all the rage now by Katy Perry. Frankly Jill's version isn't quite as derogatory to us gays as Katy's song is. Of course, Katy's song is pretty darned catchy and I will freely admit that I like it and own it as well as the rest of her album which contains such classics as Ur So Gay and If You Can Afford Me. Anywho......).

And we laughed at the world
they can have their diamonds
and we'll have our pearls
I kissed a girl

I kissed a girl, her lips were sweet
she was just like kissing me
I kissed a girl, won't change the world
but I'm so glad I kissed a girl

Ugh

2009-08-03T21:07:00.003-04:00

Today was my first day back at work after a much needed two week vacation. I came back to an unenthusiastic welcome back from my boss, 600 e-mails and down two staff who are both on vacation this week (thank god we're not really swamped right now). This was followed by a committee meeting, a phone call reminding me of a meeting I was late for which wasn't on my calendar and a voice mail from a co-worker wondering if I'd had a chance to look at a report for her yet (in the five hours I'd been back at work after two weeks off).

Yeah, I'm sure I had time to look at the report before catching up on everything else that's been waiting for my attention for two weeks and reading through 600 e-mails. I love when people think the one thing they need from me is the only thing in the world I might possibly have to do and is of course the most important thing on my plate. No one seems to remember that my job used to be done by two people and even then we had trouble keeping up with everything. Now it's just me with the same amount (if not more) of work to accomplish in what feels like a far shorter period of time.

The bright spot of the day is that IT finally replaced our four student work stations. I've been asking for years (and I'm honestly not exaggerating) to have them replaced. They were the biggest, ugliest, oldest, clunkiest computers ever and it took forever for our students to do anything on them. Right before I left for vacation I guess I finally asked the right person (on a whim) and she made it happen for me. I give her a huge shout out for that. Thank you Anne Marie (who will likely never see this but I thank her from the bottom of my heart anyway)!!!

I got to work 20 minutes early and I left 45 minutes late and could have stayed longer. Happy first day back to work to me. At least I managed to get a run in tonight after I walked Maggie. Oh and it didn't rain today which is practically a miracle. The good news is running is awesome, I love the burn. I find it addicting. Yes, there may in fact be something wrong with me. I am aware of that. The bad news is I think my knees are older than I feel. Hopefully they won't give me too much trouble as I continue the Couch to 5K training. Time will tell.

Maggie is snoring quietly on the couch next to me. That's so comforting to me and much needed after a long day at work. And for today's song I give you Chain Gang by Sam Cooke. It feels fitting for a first day back at work blog post.

All day long they work so hard
'til the suns going down
Working on the highways and byways
And wearing, wearing a frown
You hear them moaning their lives away
Then you hear somebody say
That's the sound of the men working on the chain gang
That's the sound of the men working on the chain gang

Movie Day

2009-07-23T23:16:00.005-04:00

Today was a day filled with movies for me. First I went to see The Proposal with Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. I really enjoyed it (she's HOT and he's not bad to look at either, for a guy that is). Then I watched a movie I dvr'd called Death at a Funeral which was a British comedy of sorts. Pretty good, but not great.

And then tonight, to round out the day, I decided to finally watch Schindler's List. I know the movie is like 16 years old. I am a bit out of the loop with some things such as many movies from the 1990's. I was prepared for it as much as one can prepare for such a thing. But I was still reduced to tears at the end. What that one man did to save the lives of so many is just incredible. There really are no words for it.

Now here comes the part where I will sound a little loony to some people, just bear with me please. Everything about the holocaust has an incredible emotional impact on me and nearly always makes me cry. Have you been to the holocaust museum in Washington DC? I fought back tears the entire time I was there. The throat tightening, make it hard to breathe because I'm holding back a full out sob kind of tears, not just the weepy kind of tears. And yes, the atrocity that was the holocaust is incredibly sad. But I did not live through it. And neither did any of my family. So, what is it about this event in history that effects me so?

I believe in past lives, reincarnation if you will. And sometimes, like tonight, I wonder if maybe I was alive during WWII. Or at least part of WWII. As in the part before I was gassed at a concentration camp. Or maybe even the part where I had to do the gassing at a concentration camp. Call me crazy, but Vietnam doesn't have the same effect on me even though my uncle was in it. Neither does just talking about WWII even though my grandfather was in it. Neither does the Korean War or the Civil War or pretty much any other event in history which I was not alive for. Why the holocaust then?

There will never be an answer for that question of course. And that's okay. It's just how I am. I am not obsessed with the subject of the holocaust. I don't search out anything and everything having to do with it. But I do find it interesting on an intellectual level and frankly the way the world seems to be headed it worries me that this sort of thing might happen again. Perhaps this time with people who practice Islam. And that is the wrong direction for the world to be headed. That's regression not progression.

When I was much younger I used to say that until all humans have the skin tone of paper bags there will be no world peace. Meaning until we become one mass of beings indistinguishable from our neighbors there will always be strife. I still believe this to a degree, but I do still hold out hope that we will see world unity/peace in my lifetime (and I plan to live past 100 so we've still got some time to accomplish that, at least 66 years by my count). Until that happens though every one of us needs to promote peace and harmony and inclusion for everyone regardless of their race, religion, sexuality, you name it. We are all human and this planet is the only one we have. Now, that doesn't mean you have to agree or approve of someone else's religion or lifestyle or whatever, but it does mean you need to believe in their freedome to live the way in which it feels right for them to live.

For instance. I am a lesbian. I did not choose this lifestyle, it's part of my genetic makeup (and no, I don't need a good man to change my mind thank you very much). It's simply (a part of) who I am just like my blue eyes and dark brown hair. One of my best friends from high school is a born again Christian. She and I are still friends even though I am very anti-organized religion and am a borderline athiest and she practices hate the sin but love the sinner in regards to my sexuality. I respect her right to believe in her God and she respects my right to love who I love (not that I have anyone to love in that way right now, but that's a topic for a whole different blog post!).

And that my friends is how the world should operate. I am free to be me and you are free to be you and we respect each other. In the words of Rodney King: "People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along? Can we get along? Can we stop making it, making it horrible for the older people and the kids?...It’s just not right. It’s not right. It’s not, it’s not going to change anything. We’ll, we’ll get our justice....Please, we can get along here. We all can get along. I mean, we’re all stuck here for a while. Let’s try to work it out. Let’s try to beat it. Let’s try to beat it. Let’s try to work it out."

So, how about it? Can we all just get along? As for the lyrics for this post, well, I think they're kind of obvious. I give you by We Are The World by Michael Jackson and Lionel Ritchie.

There comes a time
When we heed a certain call
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying
And it's time to lend a hand to life
The greatest gift of all
We can't go on pretending day by day
That someone, somewhere will soon make a change
We are all a part of God's great big family
And the truth, you know, love is all we need
We are the world, we are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So let's start giving

This post is Rated R and may contain strong language...

2009-07-15T21:56:00.005-04:00

When I left work today my blood pressure was rather high (through the freaking roof really) and I was very very frustrated. No, that's not the whole truth. I was pissed. And I had a whole blog composed in my mind, ready to vent those frustrations for all the world to see. Then I took Maggie for a walk and after she got her exercise I went for a run. By the time I got home from my run my frustrations were pretty much gone. That's a good thing. Too bad the source of my frustrations isn't gone. But don't sweat the small stuff as they say, and it's all small stuff. I think that might be a movie quote...

Anywho....also before I went for a run I had a list of things I was going to blog about. And we all know that I'm a fan of the lists. But those things also disappeared into the ether with my work frustrations. So, I guess I'll list a few things that I'm happy about/looking forward to.

1. VACATION. A much needed, long anticipated, LONG vacation is nearly here. Hallelfreakinglujah!

2. The weather has been simply incredible the past few days. Warm and sunny during the day and cool at night, perfect sleeping weather. It could stay like this from May through September and I'd be a happy camper.

3. I'm seeing Rent again in a couple of weeks. Be prepared for the quoting. You have been warned.

4. Seeing Billy Joel/Elton John together in concert. I'm not sure if there will be quoting from this concert. We'll see.

5. Ingrid Michaelson has a new album coming out at the end of August. And she's touring this fall. Woot! She makes me happy.

6. Watching Maggie play with her best friend Milo. After what she went through last fall it's incredible that she can walk let alone run around and play chase games with the boy next door.

7. Not having to use an alarm clock to wake up for two whole weeks. I hate waking up to an alarm clock. Hate it.

8. Beach. Sand. Waves.

9. The end result after my Couch to 5K training is over. And that end result is being at least a little more in shape than I was when I started. I miss the incredibly athletic body I had in high school. And the Couch to 5K training program seems really logical to me and feels good while I'm doing it. But it also makes me want to go out and buy a ton of new sneakers. Because I love sneakers and I haven't had any reason to buy a new pair until recently. Also I love the burn I feel in my legs when I'm running. Sounds crazy I know, but it's not the pain that stops me from working out it's the getting bored with it that stops me.

10. It's no longer June for me at work. Third June is officially over and I can now act like its July just like everyone else in the world. Of course I have no idea what the date really is or what day it is, but I'll catch up eventually. Maybe in August.

11. I'm trying hard to come up with an 11 so I can have a list that's not a nice even number. But I can't come up with anything even though I know I have a ton of things I am happy about and thankful for. So, I guess I'll just say I am so grateful for the abundance I have in my life.

So, why is this post Rated R? Because of the song lyrics that go along with it of course! When I need to vent my anger I like to listen to my angry music. And on today's commute home you can bet that I cranked up my iPod and sung along to my angry music at the top of my lungs. The song I'm going to quote is a nice bitter diatribe from the point of view of the woman scorned. For me today this song was directed at the source of my work frustrations who will remain nameless (and who is in no way any sort of romantic interest for me, that thought makes me shudder!). Here is Untouchable Face by Ani DiFranco (who is coincidentally the cousin of a former co-worker/current Facebook friend of mine).

So fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
and who am I
that I should be vying for your touch
and who am I
I bet you can't even tell me that much

Anniversaries

2009-07-08T20:31:00.002-04:00

Grandma and me
Originally uploaded by My Life Through Lyrics

This is my grandmother (my mother's mother) and me circa Christmas 1982 (notice the date helpfully written in the corner of the picture? Thanks gram!). I was seven. She had already been a widow for nearly five and a half years after my grandfather's sudden death. She was the only grandparent I ever knew.

She died three years ago today, just over a month before her 87th birthday. I think maybe that's why I've been in a bit of a funk the last couple days. Our unconscious holds onto these memories even when we're not aware they're being held.

My parents and I lived with her from the time I was about two and half until I was about four and a half (give or take a couple months on either side). I wish I could tell you I remembered that time, but I don't. I was too young.

I do remember going to her house after school or maybe it was before I was old enough for school and my mom would drop me off at her house before she went to work. Grandma would make me a snack of buttered (or was it margarine?) saltines. We would play games or I would build with the lincoln log set that was missing a lot of pieces or I'd play with the mini cast iron stove she always kept on the low shelf in the kitchen right next to the tin of cookies. We would go for walks up the hill behind her house. That's where I got to pet a deer one afternoon when we were collecting milkweed pods so she could make pine cone angels to sell at the church fair.

As a teenager and adult I didn't spend much time with her. Like we all do, I always figured there'd be more time, she'd always been there so she's always BE there. I didn't write enough and I never called. I never knew what to say and I hate the phone so it just never happened.

Now though I wish I'd asked her what it was like for her when Poppa was off fighting "the war." Or what her parents were like. Or why she became a teacher. She was our family historian and did write down some family stories, but I wish she'd written more, written it all. And I don't even know where the ones she did write are now. I think my mom might have them.

Last night I think she came to me in a dream. This is the first time I've dreamed of her maybe ever, but certainly since her death. I've dreamed of being in her house, but she's never been in the dream itself. I like to think it was her in my dream last night not just my subconscious reminding me of the anniversary of her death. She looked about the age she'd have been in this picture, maybe even a little younger. And she looked happy. I saw her smile and heard her laugh. I just hope she and Poppa are together now. She missed him terribly. As much as I wish I'd spent more time with grandma, I wish I'd gotten a chance to know Poppa, but I was only two when he died and I don't remember him at all. He was quite a character from the stories I've heard.

Today's lyrics come from History of Us by the Indigo Girls. I have a long standing love for the Indigo Girls and have been on a kick recently listening to all their albums on shuffle on my iPod (which caused an interesting repeat of songs today when it played different versions of the same song one after the other, but I digress). Also, I can't find a video to link to for this song other than a cover by someone named Bev and that's not what I'm going for here. Try typing "History of Us" into the Youtube search. Know what you get? A lot of videos about the history of the United States. Not what I'm going for either.

So we must love while these moments are still called today
Take part in the pain of this passion play
Stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
Until time makes history of us

Addiction

2009-07-03T23:19:00.006-04:00

I have never been one to get addicted to substances. I am not and have never been a smoker (although I did the smoke when drinking thing in college a bit). I am not a big drinker (I can go weeks or months without having any alcohol at all, I don't need it or miss it when I don't have it). I am not addicted to coffee or coffee drinks. My beverage of choice is water. I have never in my life done drugs of any kind. It's just not part of who I am.

What I do get addicted to, or perhaps the better word choice would be obsessed with, are songs. I will find a new song and listen to it on repeat until I get sick of it. I can't tell you what exactly will hook me on a song. Sometimes it's the lyrics, sometimes it's the rhythm, sometimes it's the music, sometimes its the voice, sometimes it's all those things and sometimes it's the feeling like I'm on the edge of some sort of break through and if I just keep listening to the song I'll be able to figure out something really important.

Anyway, I follow Jenny Owen Youngs on Twitter (she wrote Fuck Was I, my freaking theme song for the end of last September) and the other day she tweeted about how she had some songs up on this website called Daytrotter and that you could go download them for free. So, off I went to Daytrotter and after checking it out to make sure it was legit to download the songs for free (it is) I set about downloading her tunes. I also downloaded some Aimee Mann and Bon Iver and Grace Potter and the Nocturnals and will spend sometime checking out some of the other artists soon.

But now I'm addicted to Jenny's song Last Person. I listened to it the entire way home from hanging out with a friend tonight. It's a half hour drive. You do the math. I am suddenly in love with this song, addicted to it (I'm listening to it as I type right now also). The funny thing is it's about hooking up with someone in a bar which is sooooooo not me. At all. But I LOVE the song. I <3 it even.

And on another note, I got an e-mail from Ms. Ex on Thursday evening. She might need me to take in the dog she got when we split up because she (the dog) apparently bit a dog that attacked her (one that's gotten off it's leash and threatened and perhaps bit my poor former dog many times already). There may or may not be a law suit involved, the e-mail from Ms. Ex was not clear. So I may be up to a two dog household again for a while. We shall see.

The lyrics for this post have to come from Last Person since it's my current addiction. I think even though it's about hooking up in a bar there's still somewhat of a romantic bent to the song and I am nothing if not a true romantic at heart. I do believe in happy endings, maybe just not the Hollywoodized versions that we're inundated with. So, here you go:

'cause you're feeling
like the last person
left on the planet tonight
and you're scanning the horizon
seeking out signs of life
and you pray that you're wrong
but you're right
so hold on tight

'cause all that stares back at you
are bloodless zombie eyes
why don't you come home with me tonight
alright, alright

not tryin' to make you think
this is some kind of great big deal
I just know exactly how you feel
I could be the thing you reach for
in the middle of the night
let me be the one who treats you right
let me be the one who treats you right

Untitled

2009-06-28T21:07:00.003-04:00

After replying to an e-mail tonight I decided to go read some saved messages from a year ago. I wasn't really sure how reading these messages might affect me but I decided to hazard a click or two anyway just to see. I guess you could call it a test.

And honestly I don't know whether I passed or I failed the test. I suppose it depends on how you're grading it. I passed in the sense that these messages didn't make me cry or even the least bit teary. Instead they brought a smile to my face along with good memories, memories that I wish very badly were more clear in my mind. So, if no tears means passing then I did so with flying colors.

But it seems to me that I failed the test as well. Because the messages I decided to read were from FMHW who I continue to think about on a daily basis. I have not spoken to or heard from her since prior to Christmas and that was in response to a message I sent her not something she initiated. I have not seen her since the middle of last August; the last thing she said to me as she hugged me goodbye (which I suppose was goodbye goodbye and not I'll see you later goodbye as I'd hoped at the time, hope springs eternal after all) was "I'll be in touch, Buddy." She'd never called me buddy before then. It drove a nail into my heart.

She still haunts me. I see traces of her in other women (from co-workers, to celebrities, to people in the grocery store). I wonder what she's doing and where she is and if she's happy and how her kids and her roommate and dog are doing and whether she's finally moved the bed out of her kitchen. And honestly I don't want to be dwelling like I am. I would really just like to chalk her up to a rebound after Ms. Ex. Or maybe just a fun Spring/Summer fling. But I don't seem to be able to do that. And I don't know why.

Not that I'm letting this dwelling on her stop me from living my life. I am trying to meet someone new. Although, as previously blogged about, that hasn't been going as well as I'd hoped. I'm doing fun things with my friends and my family and enjoying my life. There is no rush to meet someone, I'm content to be alone. Unlike some people (Ms. Ex being one of them) I do not need to be with someone because I'm scared to be alone. Not that the longing for that special someone doesn't exist, because it is most decidedly still there. It pops up during the quiet moments and the moments I'd like to share. Like the spectacular sight of the fields of fireflies I drove by on Thursday night on my way home from a concert. Or the quiet of an overcast Sunday morning spent finishing a book in bed. Those are just two of the times the lack of someone to share these moments with hits me, but there are certainly more, many, many more.

A week ago last Friday I went home for my father's retirement party. The drive to my parent's takes me through the town in which FMHW grew up. Hard not to think of her as I'm driving by the street where her parents still live. I have no cell phone service at my parents and as I was driving back to CT on Sunday I got a text message from Ms. Ex. She'd sent it at 10:54 on Friday night telling me that she was thinking of me and would love to chat sometime. It's been a couple months since I heard from her and I'm no more desirous of chatting with her now than I was then. Also I'm left to wonder why she was texting me at 10:54 on a Friday night. Where was her live in girlfriend?

Then as I'm driving into FMHW's hometown a song pops up on my iPod that will probably remind me of her for as long as I live. It's one of maybe three songs that bring her immediately to mind. I've got nearly 5000 songs on my iPod and it was on shuffle at the time. I found that an eerie coincidence which I tried not to read too much into. I really wanted to e-mail her when I got home to tell her about it, but talked myself out of it. How can I move on if I don't just let coincidences like that pass right? But then again everything happens for a reason....

So, did I pass the test or did I fail it? I don't really know. And does it even matter? Probably not in the scheme of things. I am right where I am supposed to be in my life right now. I will be right where I'm supposed to be in my life two weeks from now, two months from now, two years from now, twenty years from now. The only thing that remains to be seen is what special woman will be at my side.

I suppose the only fitting song for this post is the one that popped up shuffle as I was driving into FMHW's hometown last weekend. This song brought tears instantly to my eyes for a few months after she broke up with me. It doesn't now thankfully because I really love the song. Here's I'm Yours by Jason Mraz.

Well you done done me and you bet I felt it
I tried be chill but you're so hot that I melted
I fell right through the cracks, now I'm trying to get back

Before the cool done run out I'll be giving it my bestest
And nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention
I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some

But I won't hesitate no more, no more
It cannot wait, I'm yours

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you will find love love love love

Photos

2009-06-24T20:46:00.003-04:00

My grandfather in the airforce.
Originally uploaded by My Life Through Lyrics

This is a picture of a man I never met, my grandfather, during his time in the Air Force. He died a little less than two years before I was born. My father's father. I know next to nothing about him other than he was a raging alcoholic and that after my father's mother abandoned my dad he did the best he could until he ended up basically abandoning my father too. We never really talked about my dad's family while I was growing up and in fact I didn't find out my father's mother had abandoned him when he was just weeks old until I was 32 (or that his parents were never married). That explained a whole heck of a lot about him for me.

Now, I'm in touch with my father's cousin through Facebook. She's only 5 years (EXACTLY 5 years) older than me and doesn't really remember my grandfather either. She says he was a good, kind, quiet and smart man and I want more than anything to believe her. But how do I reconcile that with knowing that this man also abandoned my father leaving him to grow up with his aunt and his uncle who were the definition of poor and had children of their own to feed and raise?

I do of course realize that the alcohol was most likely the problem and that things might have been very different for my dad if his father didn't have a problem with the drink. But that's a lifetime that exists only in the what ifs and it's best not to dwell on those too much.

Anyway, my dad's cousin scanned and e-mailed me some photos of my dad when he was young and his dad. This one is the most striking to me. I keep trying to see my dad in him, and myself of course. And I can't tell if I want to see us or if I don't. I just cannot reconcile my emotions about this whole thing. I'm really glad I have the pictures, but at the same time maybe the past should stay buried. I haven't sent the pictures on to my parents yet. I don't even know if I should. As you can imagine he has rather a lot of bitterness about his parents.

I don't really have the perfect song for this post so I'll settle for one that I've always loved, Nightswimming by R.E.M.

The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
turned around backward so the windshield shows
every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse
still it's so much clearer

Good on paper but...

2009-06-12T20:40:00.003-04:00

A little while ago I got home from coffee date number two for the week. I didn't blog about the first one, probably because it actually went well for a change. So well I'm actually planning to see her again. So well we've done a little texting. Today however, not as good.

First, let me say, I am still incredibly tired and while I'd like to think that colored my view of the date today, I know it did not. Second, I will say in her favor she was more attractive in person than in her pictures online (great eyes). Usually it is the other way around, people's pictures look great but they do not live up to expectations in person. I have found in my oh so scientific study that while most people resemble their photos they do not really look like their photos. Third, we are compatible musically meaning we have very similar tastes in music. This is important to me because who wants to be stuck on a long car ride arguing over who's music to listen to because neither of you likes what the other person does?

Anyway, as I sat there across the table from her listening to her talk (conversation was split about 85/15, with me being the 15 of course) I felt like I was on a job interview for a position I was completely unqualified for. Like say you were a regular joe, someone who goes to the office every day and may one day hope to be promoted to middle management if that's what you aspire to. For some reason you as a regular joe decided to apply for a new job just to see what else was out there and were lucky enough to be called in for an interview. But when you got to the interview and you started talking to the hiring manager you realized you hadn't applied for an office job, but rather to be an astronaut which you A) know nothing about and B) are soooooo very very unqualified for and C) really have no desire to be. That's what my date felt like. I was the regular joe and she was looking to hire an astronaut.

Now, don't think I'm selling myself short. I know I'm a catch in my own unique and special ways and I know that when I meet the right woman she'll think so too. But today? I was not the astronaut and frankly I didn't really want to be. In fact toward the end I was thinking of things I might say in order to make sure she never wanted to see me again (and also? I did really well at speaking awkwardly today, conversation was in NO way smooth unlike the first coffee date of the week). And for someone who calls her self a laid back Californian transplanted to the East Coast, I saw an awful lot of East Coast in her and not much, if any, of the laid back Californian.

On the plus side I did get a high five from her for having read The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. Glad she approves of my selected reading. So, while she looked great on paper the in person meeting did not live up to expectations. I'm sure she's saying the same about me and I am perfectly fine with that. And I think she intended for our 4:30 pm first meeting/coffee date to go A LOT longer than I had planned on or had any interest in. She wanted to get dinner and I was ready to go home before I even got to the coffee shop to meet her (an hour or so from home I might add). Also, she is what I like to call a "do-er" which means she has to be doing something to enjoy herself. I am not a doer. I'm perfectly content sitting and chatting with someone or even sitting and not talking if I'm comfortable enough with someone. That was one of the things I really loved about FMHW, she was not a doer. In fact we talked a few times about how neither of us understood why people get so hung up on having to go do something. I need someone who is not a doer.

I have no reason for posting these lyrics today other than I really like the song. I had to transcribe them while listening to the song since I could not find them online (Allie is, I believe, trying to get her name out there still). I give you Corner by Allie Moss (who sounds a lot like Ingrid Michaelson which is probably why I like her).

Your world trembles and quakes
and your footing suddenly shifts and shakes
take my hand we'll hide in the corner
hide in the corner
take my hand we'll hide till it's over
till it's all over

we have choices to make
we have promises that we can't break
there is nothing left to lose
so hold on to me I'll hold on to you
take my hand we'll hide in the corner
hide in the corner
take my hand we'll hide till it over
till it's all over

June, June and June

2009-06-11T15:37:00.006-04:00

For those of you who don't know I work in fund raising for a college. The end of June is the end of our fiscal year. Thus June is always our busiest month of the year as everyone scrambles to meet their year-end goals.

This year June started in May so we are now well into our second month of June. Third June will be the first couple weeks of July. How many Junes can you have in one year? My answer? Well, three of course! As you can imagine fund raising in the economic climate that the U.S. currently finds itself is, in a word, difficult. I sympathize with our front line fund raisers, those people who are actively going out to solicit people asking them to donate their money to the college. These folks, my colleagues, do an amazing job. This is not easy work even under the best of economic conditions. And is not something I would ever want to do to earn my living.

Instead, I sit at a desk behind the scenes and make sure that all the gifts and pledges received by the college are recorded correctly in our database and receipted correctly per IRS regulations, manage all the other types of data entry (address, phone and e-mail address changes for instance which are just a small slice of all the kinds of data we update), manage the people that do all of our prospect research, act as a liaison between our Accounting Office and our IT department, write ad hoc reports, answer all sorts of questions and basically put out fires and problem solve all day.

June is a tiring month for doing all of the sorts of things I listed above. Everyone has questions, everyone needs things yesterday and the volume of our gift entry spikes which means the volume of all our other work spikes as well. And since June started in May we're still only about half way through "June" now or in the midst of second June as we've all taken to saying.

I am exhausted. Mentally I am drained and I have been having bizarre dreams again the last few nights. I am more than ready for a vacation (which I will be taking as soon as we close our books after third June is over, otherwise known as the middle of July). Being mentally drained makes it really hard to be creative. Really hard. All I want to do when I get home from work is sit on my couch and drool as the TV plays mindlessly in front of me. It's very hard to do any serious (or even unserious for that matter) writing when your brain can barely string two words together, dinner consists of pretzels and water because the thought of cooking is overwhelming, and you feel sort of beat up because you're shielding your staff from crap they don't need to deal with or even really concern themselves with. So the writing that I thought I'd have so much time for now that the tv season is over has not yet happened.

I have a writing prompt I need to work on and I even have an idea for it, but I haven't yet taken the time to sit and write it and then post it for my writing group. I feel bad about that, but I'll get to it in the next couple days. After work and my second coffee date of the week tomorrow. And perhaps then after a good night's sleep or maybe not, we'll see how tomorrow afternoon goes.

Oh, and I'm itchy again. Somehow, even though I was cautious, I have given myself poison ivy. Again. I did it twice last June and it was just awful. Thankfully it's not nearly as bad this June. But I'm not happy. And also very itchy. I am beginning to dislike all aspects of the month of June and would like to just skip right from May to July. The only thing I love about June is the fact that it stays light until so late. And fireflies, I also love the fireflies.

What better song for this post than Poison Ivy by the Coasters?

She comes on like a rose, but everybody knows
She'll get you in Dutch
Now you can look but you better not touch

Poison ivy, poison ivy
Late at night while you're sleepin' poison ivy comes
a'creepin'
around

These are a few....

2009-06-07T22:14:00.003-04:00

So, it's Sunday night and I'm watching the Tony Awards. Because my attention isn't fully on what I'm writing I thought I'd make a list of a few of my most recent favorite things.

1. This blog is awesome. I wish I'd had the idea for it, but since I didn't I'll settle for reading it and laughing. Or reading and going WTF? Or reading it and hoping humanity isn't really doomed. Be patient if it doesn't load. They're changing hosts and until that happens the site is a bit slow. But its worth the wait.

2. Love this video. I actually like this song better, but the timing and concentration needed to make that video is awesome. In short, check out David Ford's album Songs for the Road.

3. Warm sunny days. Love them. I love them even more when I get to be outside during them and not cooped up in my office. Like today when I planted my spur of the moment mini garden and took my time mowing my lawn (being super anal suburanite). For me it's not even having my lawn look better than my neighbors, it's the active meditation that riding around on my lawn tractor gives me. What a great day!

4. Making plans. Everyone needs something to look forward to, no matter how small it might seem to someone else. Just like one person's mountian is another's mole hill, one person's little plan is the thing that someone else absolutely cannot wait for, the thing that helps them get through the long intervening days.

5. Buying new sneakers. Before Saturday I don't think I'd bought a new pair of sneakers in at least three years, probably longer. I LOVE sneakers, but I rarely wear them anymore. And lately the colors combinations and the shininess have left me wishing someone, anyone would design a sneaker for someone like me. I just want a nice plain sneaker (but not all white or all black) without shiny or pink on it. On Saturday I finally found a pair that I would be caught dead in AND that actually fit. Very exciting.

6. Grilling season. I eat so much better during grilling season. During the colder months I'm not as good about making healthy dinners. During grilling season I eat enough chicken that I should start sprouting feathers of my own, but at least I'm getting some protein. I made chicken and vegetable kabobs with rice for dinner tonight. So yummy with left overs for lunch.

7. I want there to be a # 7 but I'm tired and can't think of one.

8. I know what I wanted to say for # 7. Since I'm watching the Tony's I keep waiting for a Rent reference. So far it hasn't happened. I have seen far too much of Constantine Maroulis who's facial expressions still kind of freak me out (also glad he didn't win the award he was nominated for, the three boys who shared the award are sooo adorable). Also, Carrie Fisher doesn't look so great. But Susan Sarandon looks amazing. As does Jane Fonda.

9. Hartford Stage got a shout out on the Tony's which is pretty cool.

10. Back to the things I love. Fruit. Specifically summer fruit. I love that blackberries are coming into season. And that watermelon is back. And then there are grapes and cherries and mango. I'm now making myself hungry.

The lyrics for this post come from the song I linked to above, Song for the Road by David Ford. I discovered him thanks to following Ingrid Michaelson on Twitter. She posted a link to the video I linked to above which lead to my downloading his album. I really should thank her for that....Anyhow, I won't post all the lyrics to this song though I easily could. The end of the song is my favorite, it's sung with such emotion and conviction, but that's not what I'm posting (you can listen and decide for yourself). It was hard to pick just a snippet of the song, but I really like this part so here you go.

So you can keep your belief in whatever
I'll wear my cynicism like a tattoo
While poets try to engineer definitions of love
You know all I can think of is you