I've never liked July. It is a long, hot month full of bright garish colors. When I think of June, I see soft pastels, window curtains blowing and fresh salads from the baby lettuce in the garden. When I think of August, I think of deep colors, greens and golds, simmering pinks. Deep ocean blue. August is a winding down month. School is getting ready to start, the vegetables from the garden are ready to be picked and canned, the days are hot but there is a taste of cool towards the end of the month. You know that Autumn is peeking around the corner.
But July? Ugh.
Hot colors abound. Hot pinks, hot yellows, eye squinting orange. The sun is so bright that it blinds you when you walk outdoors. The heat slams into you like a hammer. My garden is a riot of chaotic growth, the weeds stampede over everything if I even miss one day of cutting them back.
Sweat gathers in all the corners of my skin. It is uncomfortable and crabby making. Independence Day, my least favorite holiday, lands right smack dab in July. The dog spends the entire night either shivering in my lap, under my chair or under my bed. Poor old Socks. He fancies himself as a rugged sort of dog, a Marlboro dog, a rebel dog. But, the fireworks out him. He is just a plump, scared Scottie. He doesn't understand and no one will make the noise stop. The next day is always hard for Socks because his cover is blown. His true colors laid out for everyone to see. It is hard on his ego and it takes him a few weeks of squirrel and rabbit chasing before he starts to puff out his dog chest again.
I hate Independence Day too. The forced picnics and barbeques that usually take place in high heat and humidity. Summer on the prairie is not for sissies. I've never really enjoyed fireworks. They are loud and too invasive. And afterward the air reeks of sulfur.
I hate being cooped up in the air conditioning. I hold out as long as I can until a day or two of 97 degree heat coupled with 70% humidity bring me to my knees. I am sulky about turning on the air conditioning, it feels like I am losing the battle. I'm not really complaining, though. I am very grateful for it, would not want to go without it. But, while it feels nice to walk inside and feel the shadowy coolness of my house, I hate the chemical feel and smell in the air. It feels plastic, fake. I go to bed and inevitably wake up with a sinus headache from it. The only thing worse would be to go without air conditioning.
Work in my garden goes from a pleasurable task to a forced one. I have to get out there and battle those weeds before they choke my beans, my peas, my okra, my tomatoes, my potatoes, my zucchini. I wear my wide brimmed hat with the pink ribbon. Bing says I look lovely in it, like a poem about summer. I feel like a little old lady.
I like the skimpy sun dresses of summer, the shorts, the sleeveless tee shirts. I don't really like wearing sandals or flip flops or worse...going barefoot. When my feet are dirty, I feel slimy all over.
Taking the dog for a walk is easier in the summer than in the winter, but walking up hills is a tedious and sweaty business. When we get back home, Socks heads right for his water bowl and I load up my glass with iced tea. A headache sits on my left temple, throbbing in time to my heart. I throw an ice cube on the floor for him to play with and pull some green grapes out of the freezer to munch on.
Summer nights can be balmy and almost enjoyable. The best kiss of my life occurred on a hot July night. Star gazing is relaxing. But, I don't like that moment when you just can't stand the heat anymore, so you slide open the back door and then...WHAM....the cold chemical smelling air hits you square in the chest, freezing all the sweat droplets on your back. I take my shower and emerge shivering into my bedroom, pulling on an old tee shirt of Bing's that still retains her smell of lemons and cherries.
Television is not thrilling in July. All of my shows are in hiatus, and while we have a plethora of choices on cable, nothing sounds all that interesting in July. Books, too aren't able to hold me as they do in the other seasons. Sometimes, I turn on music and sit quietly in the dark with one candle glowing as I listen. Lately, I am listening to Lee DeWyze over and over. His So I'm Told and Slumberland albums form a drape around me as I close my eyes and allow myself to miss my partner, my child, listening. I put on Oasis, Joss Stone, Kings of Leon. They help. But, sooner than I want, it is time to climb into my big bed that only sleeps one this summer. I lay there feeling the cold air from the air conditioning waft around the room. The silence of the house unnerves me. I've grown used, over the years, to a light from the living room sliding up the staircase. Bing is a night owl in the summer. Now, she is a night owl in Africa, five hours ahead of me.
I remind myself that this is better than snow.
Yes. It is.
But, it is mostly just a different sort of annoyance. Instead of looking out at streets shimmering in white frost, the streetlights shimmer against the leftover heat waves of the day.
I lose myself at work. This helps. I walk into the huge building, listen to my heels clatter on the stone floor and then after I get off the elevator, the carpeting hushes everything. Bright lights remind me that daydreaming is discouraged. I go into my office, stopping to smile as the smell of coffee slides up and into my nose. One of the secretaries wishes me good morning, comes around quietly to fix my collar, which is turned up in the back. I grab my coffee with a splash of cream and head into my office to prepare myself for what is needed that day. It helps, yes. It helps to have something to center on other than that empty house.
I go about the chores of home. The garbage is to be readied on Thursday evenings. A dishwasher needs to be emptied, clothes to be taken down to the laundry room. A toilet to clean, a floor to sweep, a table to dust.
But, I am listening in the July heat and it finally occurs to me what I am listening for.
I am listening for the sound of August arriving. For the colors to mute, the air to stop suffocating me and most of all....
for my girls to come home.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Sauntering
Doing okey dokey.
The summer is going by. Not quickly enough for me, but I find myself feeling languid more and more and anxious less and less.
The dog helps. He makes me laugh. He is like a toddler when I do my gardening. He frolics around the yard, hunting barr and pretending to be one of those rescue dogs who bring whiskey to stranded skiers. He brings his tennis ball to me over and over and I throw it as far as I can, faking him out now and then by not throwing the ball. He soon grew wise to this and now doesn't start running until he sees the ball leave my hands. Then he brings it back to me, all slobbery. He grins his Ernest Borgnine grin and soon settles close to me, looking up curiously as I pull up the early lettuce and radishes.
I love to take a few radishes, wash them off in the garden hose and settle into my yard chair, my book (Tomorrow River by Lesley Kagen...it is very good) in hand while I munch on those crispy, tangy radishes. I toss one to him when he begs, although he and I both know that he does not like radishes, not really. They make him sneeze.
But, he either forgets or hopes that this time it will be different.
It isn't. He paws it a few times and then settles down to crunch on it, his back legs splayed out like a froggy. And then once, twice, thrice, he sneezes, looking up at me in surprise.
What was that!!?
I do most of my gardening in the cool of the evening, if you can call it that. We are in a heat spell, temps in the mid 90's during the day. I gave in and turned on the a/c last week and admit that it feels very nice to walk into the cool, shadowy house from the scorching sun.
I am listening to music in a way that I never have before. I don't know if it is my alone status or loneliness or what, all I know is that I am letting myself fall into the music, saturating myself in it. The heat seems to imprint it on my skin. I listen to Lee DeWyze (American Idol winner, which...okay...is cheesy, but his early albums are really quite remarkable), Sufjan Stevens, Ben Harper. I love listening in the twilight, the music weaving around the oak tree, around the birdbath, the birds, the bugs and me. One night when my knee was feeling especially stable, I got up and let myself dance in the back yard in the dark, just me, Socks and the bugs. The porch light was off and I had no worries about being seen, so I let myself slink and slide into this:
Nothing makes me feel more connected lately then Kings of Leon.
By the end of the song, I was full to the brim of my own sex and feeling like I could maybe get a full eight hours sleep.
I did.
Knowing that I have a tendency to hermit myself out, I force myself to get out and about, to do things with friends. Mostly with Harriet. But I'm also spending time with old friends like Tim, Chloe and Andrew. I went to the College World Series and came back with a sunburned nose, full of funnel cake. I spent a hilarious evening with Tim and Chloe fishing. I didn't catch anything but I showed them that I am NOT one of those dipshit women who can't bait their own hook.
I read a lot.
I don't blog nearly as much as I used to, mainly because with Bing and Liv gone, I find that there is less to say. I miss being Bing's wife, Liv's mama. Well, in practice anyway. I still hold the title but this summer has been a test of solitude for me. I am passing. But not with honors as I had hoped. I am more like an average student who tends to daydream.
Bing and I talk, text, write. But, she is swamped with work, emerging herself in her music. She comes up for air and finds me and then goes back down. It reminds me of when we were first together. I'd wake up in the middle of the night to feel her hands, in sleep, frantically opening and closing, looking for???
I would lift the back of my tee shirt and let her hands find the skin of my back. She'd sigh in slumber and relax. She just needed to know that I was there. That is what she does now. She calls, frantic, realizing that it has been three days and then I answer the phone and feel her relax. Still here. Maria is still there.
For always, love. Promise. I find it very attractive that she loses herself in her music. I like hearing the passion in her voice as she talks about a certain sound that she is looking for, a certain timbre. This trip has been good for her.
And good for us. It never hurts to pull away and then be able to feel the strength of the bond that hooks our hearts together.
Missing Liv is different, stronger in a way that a mother-daughter love works. I hear her voice or more often, see her words splayed out in a text and something in me collapses in on itself and then pulses back hard and sure.
Liv is having an idyllic summer. She and her father are bonding and connecting in a way that they have never been able to before. When she was four months old, he signed off all parental rights to her and went his own way.
He returned when she was three, hat in hand, begging to be let back in. I smile when I remember their first meeting after all that time. She had just turned three and he sat in our back yard with us, trying to play peekaboo with her. Liv was confused and slightly insulted. Why was this grown man acting like a baby with her? She looked up at me confused. He finally figured out that she could converse in complete sentences and could tie her shoes. She was well beyond peekaboo.
It is much the same now. Tinton calls me, is in awe of her. Did I know that she can name all the constellations? Yes. Was I aware that she understands string theory? Of course. He sends me photos of her that bring lumps to my throat. Photos of her in a hard hat with a miner's light as she prepares for a night of spelunking with him. Another photo shows her proudly holding up a catfish recently caught. Still another shows her dreamily looking out over a stream, her chin on her hands as she leans on a fence.
I wept when I looked at that one. It was her face. Her nose sprinkled with freckles, her dark brown eyes dreamy, her lips curled up in her jack o lantern smile. She looks unfocused, unaware that her photo is being taken. She is dreaming of something soft and warm. Something joyful.
I sent her this video after I found myself listening to it over and over. It said exactly what I needed it to say but couldn't find the words.
So, mostly I am doing okay. I am sauntering. I am taking naps, watching lots of old movies, reading book after book after book.
And instead of pining for Autumn and my family's return, I am learning to dip my toe into these solitary moments. The quiet, the peace. To eat a raw radish and close my eyes and slide into music or bird song.
The house misses them. The dog misses them. I miss them. But, time is fluid and mine to savor. Instead of pushing on the sky, I am learning to sink into it.
But, yes...every sunset brings them closer to me and for this, I am grateful.
The summer is going by. Not quickly enough for me, but I find myself feeling languid more and more and anxious less and less.
The dog helps. He makes me laugh. He is like a toddler when I do my gardening. He frolics around the yard, hunting barr and pretending to be one of those rescue dogs who bring whiskey to stranded skiers. He brings his tennis ball to me over and over and I throw it as far as I can, faking him out now and then by not throwing the ball. He soon grew wise to this and now doesn't start running until he sees the ball leave my hands. Then he brings it back to me, all slobbery. He grins his Ernest Borgnine grin and soon settles close to me, looking up curiously as I pull up the early lettuce and radishes.
I love to take a few radishes, wash them off in the garden hose and settle into my yard chair, my book (Tomorrow River by Lesley Kagen...it is very good) in hand while I munch on those crispy, tangy radishes. I toss one to him when he begs, although he and I both know that he does not like radishes, not really. They make him sneeze.
But, he either forgets or hopes that this time it will be different.
It isn't. He paws it a few times and then settles down to crunch on it, his back legs splayed out like a froggy. And then once, twice, thrice, he sneezes, looking up at me in surprise.
What was that!!?
I do most of my gardening in the cool of the evening, if you can call it that. We are in a heat spell, temps in the mid 90's during the day. I gave in and turned on the a/c last week and admit that it feels very nice to walk into the cool, shadowy house from the scorching sun.
I am listening to music in a way that I never have before. I don't know if it is my alone status or loneliness or what, all I know is that I am letting myself fall into the music, saturating myself in it. The heat seems to imprint it on my skin. I listen to Lee DeWyze (American Idol winner, which...okay...is cheesy, but his early albums are really quite remarkable), Sufjan Stevens, Ben Harper. I love listening in the twilight, the music weaving around the oak tree, around the birdbath, the birds, the bugs and me. One night when my knee was feeling especially stable, I got up and let myself dance in the back yard in the dark, just me, Socks and the bugs. The porch light was off and I had no worries about being seen, so I let myself slink and slide into this:
Nothing makes me feel more connected lately then Kings of Leon.
By the end of the song, I was full to the brim of my own sex and feeling like I could maybe get a full eight hours sleep.
I did.
Knowing that I have a tendency to hermit myself out, I force myself to get out and about, to do things with friends. Mostly with Harriet. But I'm also spending time with old friends like Tim, Chloe and Andrew. I went to the College World Series and came back with a sunburned nose, full of funnel cake. I spent a hilarious evening with Tim and Chloe fishing. I didn't catch anything but I showed them that I am NOT one of those dipshit women who can't bait their own hook.
I read a lot.
I don't blog nearly as much as I used to, mainly because with Bing and Liv gone, I find that there is less to say. I miss being Bing's wife, Liv's mama. Well, in practice anyway. I still hold the title but this summer has been a test of solitude for me. I am passing. But not with honors as I had hoped. I am more like an average student who tends to daydream.
Bing and I talk, text, write. But, she is swamped with work, emerging herself in her music. She comes up for air and finds me and then goes back down. It reminds me of when we were first together. I'd wake up in the middle of the night to feel her hands, in sleep, frantically opening and closing, looking for???
I would lift the back of my tee shirt and let her hands find the skin of my back. She'd sigh in slumber and relax. She just needed to know that I was there. That is what she does now. She calls, frantic, realizing that it has been three days and then I answer the phone and feel her relax. Still here. Maria is still there.
For always, love. Promise. I find it very attractive that she loses herself in her music. I like hearing the passion in her voice as she talks about a certain sound that she is looking for, a certain timbre. This trip has been good for her.
And good for us. It never hurts to pull away and then be able to feel the strength of the bond that hooks our hearts together.
Missing Liv is different, stronger in a way that a mother-daughter love works. I hear her voice or more often, see her words splayed out in a text and something in me collapses in on itself and then pulses back hard and sure.
Liv is having an idyllic summer. She and her father are bonding and connecting in a way that they have never been able to before. When she was four months old, he signed off all parental rights to her and went his own way.
He returned when she was three, hat in hand, begging to be let back in. I smile when I remember their first meeting after all that time. She had just turned three and he sat in our back yard with us, trying to play peekaboo with her. Liv was confused and slightly insulted. Why was this grown man acting like a baby with her? She looked up at me confused. He finally figured out that she could converse in complete sentences and could tie her shoes. She was well beyond peekaboo.
It is much the same now. Tinton calls me, is in awe of her. Did I know that she can name all the constellations? Yes. Was I aware that she understands string theory? Of course. He sends me photos of her that bring lumps to my throat. Photos of her in a hard hat with a miner's light as she prepares for a night of spelunking with him. Another photo shows her proudly holding up a catfish recently caught. Still another shows her dreamily looking out over a stream, her chin on her hands as she leans on a fence.
I wept when I looked at that one. It was her face. Her nose sprinkled with freckles, her dark brown eyes dreamy, her lips curled up in her jack o lantern smile. She looks unfocused, unaware that her photo is being taken. She is dreaming of something soft and warm. Something joyful.
I sent her this video after I found myself listening to it over and over. It said exactly what I needed it to say but couldn't find the words.
So, mostly I am doing okay. I am sauntering. I am taking naps, watching lots of old movies, reading book after book after book.
And instead of pining for Autumn and my family's return, I am learning to dip my toe into these solitary moments. The quiet, the peace. To eat a raw radish and close my eyes and slide into music or bird song.
The house misses them. The dog misses them. I miss them. But, time is fluid and mine to savor. Instead of pushing on the sky, I am learning to sink into it.
But, yes...every sunset brings them closer to me and for this, I am grateful.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Dear Bing and Liv
Dear Bing and Liv,
Thank you for all the text messages. I know that I suck at texting. I just do not get this. WHY is it easier to text? I sit there hunched over my phone, making mistakes because I tapped the damn number too many times and now I see that instead of an m, I put an n. That looks sloppy. Go back and change it. Fix it up. I used to refuse to shorten up words. (Y R U sleepy?) You are rapidly breaking me of that.
I may be fat as a pig when you get home. Socks and I went over to Sven's house for ice cream tonight. He got steak bones. I ate a gigantic homemade strawberry ice cream in a homemade waffle cone. I had to waddle back home. Socks was feeling his oats from that steak bone. He chased rabbits all over the yard like a puppy.
Bing, remember...if you make judgmental little remarks about how it is inappropriate for 52 year old mothers to smoke doobies with their bff on a sultry summer night, I just won't be honest. It was ONE night. And it was fun. Yes. An entire jar of marshmallow fluff was eaten. By Harriet mostly. I had like...four bites. And my blood sugar was FINE. But, hey....I had the munchies and carrots weren't cuttin' it, dude.
I am doing fine. Yes, I am hermitting too much. I gotta be what I gotta be. I get out.
I am going to that Eclipse opening night with one of my teenaged nieces. I plan to scream as I think I am team Edward.
I miss you both so much. I am taking the day off tomorrow to get more blood tests and all that fun junk. So, yes. I am taking care of me and all that shit.
Did I mention that I miss you?
More later. Time to pack up my coffee and get to work.
XXXXOOO
Mama and Maria.
Thank you for all the text messages. I know that I suck at texting. I just do not get this. WHY is it easier to text? I sit there hunched over my phone, making mistakes because I tapped the damn number too many times and now I see that instead of an m, I put an n. That looks sloppy. Go back and change it. Fix it up. I used to refuse to shorten up words. (Y R U sleepy?) You are rapidly breaking me of that.
I may be fat as a pig when you get home. Socks and I went over to Sven's house for ice cream tonight. He got steak bones. I ate a gigantic homemade strawberry ice cream in a homemade waffle cone. I had to waddle back home. Socks was feeling his oats from that steak bone. He chased rabbits all over the yard like a puppy.
Bing, remember...if you make judgmental little remarks about how it is inappropriate for 52 year old mothers to smoke doobies with their bff on a sultry summer night, I just won't be honest. It was ONE night. And it was fun. Yes. An entire jar of marshmallow fluff was eaten. By Harriet mostly. I had like...four bites. And my blood sugar was FINE. But, hey....I had the munchies and carrots weren't cuttin' it, dude.
I am doing fine. Yes, I am hermitting too much. I gotta be what I gotta be. I get out.
I am going to that Eclipse opening night with one of my teenaged nieces. I plan to scream as I think I am team Edward.
I miss you both so much. I am taking the day off tomorrow to get more blood tests and all that fun junk. So, yes. I am taking care of me and all that shit.
Did I mention that I miss you?
More later. Time to pack up my coffee and get to work.
XXXXOOO
Mama and Maria.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Survival
Part of a good set of survival skills is having friends drag you to movies that you tell them sound stupid and ridiculous.
I haven't laughed like this in months....
Go see "GET HIM TO THE GREEK."
And any suggestions for movies? I plan to see several soon....
I haven't laughed like this in months....
Go see "GET HIM TO THE GREEK."
And any suggestions for movies? I plan to see several soon....
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Hands across the water
I had expected better from myself.
I suspected that this being alone shit might be a little dicey, but I hadn't expected to be such a freakin' baby.
And then when my knee swelled up, it just seemed too much. Insult to injury. Feeling sorry for myself, angry with my lack of finesse at handling things...ugh.
I hadn't counted on hands across the water. They were always there, I had just been ignoring them.
First, it came from my editor over at Our Big Gayborhood. Lori. She wrote to ask if she could do anything for me. She lives in California. I live on the prairie. But the thing is, if I asked her, she would find a way to get to me. Not because we are such great pals. We really only know each other through our writing. But, someplace inside myself, I knew that if I asked her to just bring me a fuckin' peanut buster parfait from DQ, she would do it.
Then, I got a video from Tinton, Liv's father. He wrote:
I wanted to tell you that the first time I saw this video, I thought of our Livvy and about how much I miss her EVERY SINGLE DAY. I don't think you have any idea how grateful I am after all the shit I pulled after she was born, that you just let me jump back into her life when you had every right to tell me to take a hike. Thank you so much for letting me spend this summer with her, Ice. I see so much of you in her. She has your geeky grace and this sort of sweetly lopsided way of looking at the world that I know you understand. She might resemble me physically, but inside? She's you. I love you for letting me have her for this time. See you in a bit. Be well, okay? She is FINE. She is happy, a little dirtier than you would like and we are both re-discovering each other. THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART.
And then there was Harriet, my bff.
I should have known that she wouldn't put up with me side stepping her phone calls. For the first time in our friendship, I would see her name on the caller id and let it go to voice mail. After three times, she texted me that if she didn't hear from me in one hour, she would come over with the police.
So, yeah...I called her....sulkily.
Me: "Jesus Fucking Christ, Harriet. Can I just enjoy my privacy? Why do you think you can just get up in my business, girl? I SENT you an e-mail telling you that I was fine and just to please give me some space. What about that sentence did you not understand?"
Harriet: "Every word. I'm coming over."
Me: "NO. I am fine. I am taking the day off tomorrow to go to the doctor to get my Incredible Hulk knee drained and shot up with cortisone, so I won't want company, okay?"
Harriet: "I'm coming over tomorrow. I will take you to the doctor and then sit with you and rub your smelly feet. Not one fucking thing you can do about this. C'MON. I need to get away from the brats for a half day and the husband is cooperating. What time is your appt?"
Me: (sulking still) "8:45."
Harriet: "Fine. I'll pick you up at 8. Prepare to be hugged. Just sayin'. Yes, you will have me all up in your BIDNESS, bitch. I might even kiss your cheek. That ought to freak you out big time. Get prepared. I think you are forgetting that you are acting like a baby, woman. They are gone for the summer, not forever. Get a grip, will ya? I'll bring low carb food because you sound like you aren't managing your diabetes either. God, do I have to spend ALL MY FUCKING TIME mothering you?"
So she did. Come over. Pick me up. Rub my smelly feet. Take me to the doctor. We watched this DVD that my sister, Jessie, sent to me. Another hand across the water.
Bird By Bird With Annie.
I wept through most of the video because one, I adore Anne Lamott. Her book, Operating Instructions kept me sane after Liv was born. And two, because my baby sister somehow knew that it was exactly what I needed. She and I could not be more different, but when push comes to shove, we're sisters and that's that. She and I reach out towards each other in some way that only sisters get.
And somehow, she just knew. I love you, Jess.
Hands across the water. They are always there, but sometimes those of us who are stubborn and stupid miss them and try to row alone.
Thanks too, to my good friend in Blogville, Snooker, who basically told me to woman up. You're right, snook. Sometimes we all need a kick in the ass.
Thanks too, for all your good wishes. I'm going to spend the rest of the day with my leg propped up, eating my fruits and vegetables and staying away from cereal.
Bird by bird. Just bird by bird.
I suspected that this being alone shit might be a little dicey, but I hadn't expected to be such a freakin' baby.
And then when my knee swelled up, it just seemed too much. Insult to injury. Feeling sorry for myself, angry with my lack of finesse at handling things...ugh.
I hadn't counted on hands across the water. They were always there, I had just been ignoring them.
First, it came from my editor over at Our Big Gayborhood. Lori. She wrote to ask if she could do anything for me. She lives in California. I live on the prairie. But the thing is, if I asked her, she would find a way to get to me. Not because we are such great pals. We really only know each other through our writing. But, someplace inside myself, I knew that if I asked her to just bring me a fuckin' peanut buster parfait from DQ, she would do it.
Then, I got a video from Tinton, Liv's father. He wrote:
I wanted to tell you that the first time I saw this video, I thought of our Livvy and about how much I miss her EVERY SINGLE DAY. I don't think you have any idea how grateful I am after all the shit I pulled after she was born, that you just let me jump back into her life when you had every right to tell me to take a hike. Thank you so much for letting me spend this summer with her, Ice. I see so much of you in her. She has your geeky grace and this sort of sweetly lopsided way of looking at the world that I know you understand. She might resemble me physically, but inside? She's you. I love you for letting me have her for this time. See you in a bit. Be well, okay? She is FINE. She is happy, a little dirtier than you would like and we are both re-discovering each other. THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART.
And then there was Harriet, my bff.
I should have known that she wouldn't put up with me side stepping her phone calls. For the first time in our friendship, I would see her name on the caller id and let it go to voice mail. After three times, she texted me that if she didn't hear from me in one hour, she would come over with the police.
So, yeah...I called her....sulkily.
Me: "Jesus Fucking Christ, Harriet. Can I just enjoy my privacy? Why do you think you can just get up in my business, girl? I SENT you an e-mail telling you that I was fine and just to please give me some space. What about that sentence did you not understand?"
Harriet: "Every word. I'm coming over."
Me: "NO. I am fine. I am taking the day off tomorrow to go to the doctor to get my Incredible Hulk knee drained and shot up with cortisone, so I won't want company, okay?"
Harriet: "I'm coming over tomorrow. I will take you to the doctor and then sit with you and rub your smelly feet. Not one fucking thing you can do about this. C'MON. I need to get away from the brats for a half day and the husband is cooperating. What time is your appt?"
Me: (sulking still) "8:45."
Harriet: "Fine. I'll pick you up at 8. Prepare to be hugged. Just sayin'. Yes, you will have me all up in your BIDNESS, bitch. I might even kiss your cheek. That ought to freak you out big time. Get prepared. I think you are forgetting that you are acting like a baby, woman. They are gone for the summer, not forever. Get a grip, will ya? I'll bring low carb food because you sound like you aren't managing your diabetes either. God, do I have to spend ALL MY FUCKING TIME mothering you?"
So she did. Come over. Pick me up. Rub my smelly feet. Take me to the doctor. We watched this DVD that my sister, Jessie, sent to me. Another hand across the water.
Bird By Bird With Annie.
I wept through most of the video because one, I adore Anne Lamott. Her book, Operating Instructions kept me sane after Liv was born. And two, because my baby sister somehow knew that it was exactly what I needed. She and I could not be more different, but when push comes to shove, we're sisters and that's that. She and I reach out towards each other in some way that only sisters get.
And somehow, she just knew. I love you, Jess.
Hands across the water. They are always there, but sometimes those of us who are stubborn and stupid miss them and try to row alone.
Thanks too, to my good friend in Blogville, Snooker, who basically told me to woman up. You're right, snook. Sometimes we all need a kick in the ass.
Thanks too, for all your good wishes. I'm going to spend the rest of the day with my leg propped up, eating my fruits and vegetables and staying away from cereal.
Bird by bird. Just bird by bird.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Another break
Well, now. It is the attack of the rheumatoid monster again. All my joints are swollen and the fatigue is almost unbearable. SO glad that Liv and Bing aren't around to witness this but I am feeling pretty alone in this big house. I seem to only get up to let Socks out into the yard to do his business. He is cranky too, wants to know where the hell his walk is.
But, I'm just so tired....
Talk again when the monster leaves...
But, I'm just so tired....
Talk again when the monster leaves...
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
And so it keeps going
I haven't been visiting too many blogs lately. Sorry. I usually get such pleasure out of swimming along in Blogville, but lately....well...I seem to come home from work, slap on some shorts and a tee, take the dog for a walk, have a bowl of cereal and then spend the evening outside. I've been gardening so much that it has almost become an obsession. When I get my fill of that, I lay in my adirondack chair, reading Charlaine Harris and listening to Lee DeWyze's old albums. Socks rests on my legs, his head across my knees, smiling at me with his Ernest Borgnine smile from time to time. I think he's concerned about me, but I tell him that I am perfectly okay. I'm just feeling very myopic lately.
I'm not really stuck, but not really moving either. I'm not depressed, but just not in a place where I feel like doing much. I'm really grateful for all of these questions to answer because I feel like my life is so boring lately. Even my inner thoughts don't seem worth mentioning.
Okay...Raven asks what I think that Bing and I will be doing ten years after Liv is in college.
Okay. She is nearly eleven now. When she leaves for college, I will be 59. So, ten years AFTER that, I will be 69. That sounds incredibly old to me. But, then, I remember that when I was in college, I thought that 35 sounded old. Bing and I have long had a plan that we want to move to Mexico after Liv leaves the nest. We are saving with that in mind. I think it is only fair. Bing has suffered through prairie winters with me for many years. I owe her a place in the sun. And I will like it too, I think. To be honest, though....I always wanted to live in a small cottage by the sea in some place like Maine. But, well....marriage is all about compromise.
Raven also asks if I wrote a book, would it be memoir or fiction.
Fiction. My memoirs would really not be interesting to anyone other than my family. And maybe not even them. My sisters and Bing know that I write a blog. They only visit sporadically. I don't know that they would even BUY my memoirs! I think I would do better with fiction.
Deb asks the very interesting question: Was there anyone who warned Bing about getting involved with you and vice versa?
Hmm. I am thinking. I believe that one of her ex girlfriends warned her that I would break her heart. I don't think her family had any problems with us hooking up. Bing and I joke regularly that her family likes me a lot more than they like her....
And no one warned me about being with Bing. If anything, I had people shoving her at me with both hands. I think that those who love me knew that she would be exactly what I needed long before I knew it myself. I am just that obtuse. It took me years and years to decide to be with her. And even now, I have moments of doubt. Not because I don't love her but because I just suck at co-habitation. But, I seem to be domesticated. Now that she is gone, I find myself feeling as if I have no arms.
Deb also asks if Bing was not in my life and an opportunity to marry Liv's father came about, would I do that?
God, no. And I know that he feels the same. We are two people who don't fit well on paper or in practice. He is much younger than me. He and I don't fit on any long term or even short term level. We like each other a great deal. I know that he thinks that I am a good mother and I believe that he is an excellent father. And while we are thankful for each other because without both of us there would be no Liv, we have no illusions about each other. When he visits, he often comments on my moodiness and not in a complimentary way. He also thinks that I am very aloof. His nickname for me is "Ice." And it is the way he sees my temperament. What we shared to create Liv was very brief, a flash in the pan thing. If Liv hadn't been born, I know for certain that we would not have stayed in touch.
Caz wants to know what vegetables I grow in my garden.
Pretty much everything at one time or another. Peas. Beans. Lettuce (3 kinds), potatoes, zucchini, pumpkins, squash, radishes, okra, tomatoes and peppers this year.
An anonymous reader asks what my totem animals are.
I just have one: owls. And I only know this because someone from the Omaha Indian tribe told me so.
Anon also wants to know what act of grooming I tend to slack on.
Flossing.
And what act of housework I slack on.
I really detest dusting. Just HATE it. So, that is one of Liv's chores. But since she is gone all summer, I suppose it will be me and the Pledge every week.
Anon asks what I am vainest about?
My skin. I have always had excellent skin and even now, I somehow still have lots of silk in it.
What do I love most about Bing, Liv and Socks?
I love Bing's off beat humor.
I love Liv's independent spirit.
I love Socks' loyalty.
How am I most like my Da, mother, sisters?
I have my Da's way of expressing myself. I like to write and read as he did. I have my mother's practical, cool nature. My sisters and I all share the same chin and that is it. We are all very different from each other. Yet, we sound almost identical to each other on the phone (My sister, Celia once called our house and Bing thought it was me...she called her "babycakes" and teasingly asked her if she was naked..it was a very uncomfortable conversation after that...)
Snooker asks a compelling question. If there had been a test to predict whether Liv would be homosexual or not, would I have had it?
No. I did know that she was going to be a girl, though. I don't get people who don't want to know their child's sex. Why not? I would not have had that test if it had been available. Mostly because I don't care. But, if I did have some way of knowing before she was born and knew that she would be gay?
This is hard to admit. No, I wouldn't be thrilled. For the ONLY reason that I want to protect her more than anything in the world and knowing that she would most surely be hurt at some time in her life because of her sexual preference? That would kill me.
From ZC:
Which of Bing's nags are right on target?
She thinks that I don't eat healthy enough.
I had a bowl of Cap'n Crunch for dinner. Enough said.
What animal would Harriet, Bing and Liv be?
Harriet: a giraffe...she is tall, like freakishly so...(ducking as Harriet's purse flies through the air at me)
Bing: an ox...she is strong, steadfast and stubborn
Liv: a seal...she loves the water.
Anon asks: If you could eat dinner with 6 people (five living, one dead) who would you chose:
1) Bill Bryson
2) President Obama
3) Elizabeth Berg
4) Sufjan Stevens
5) Anderson Cooper
6) Lady Diana
C asks if I have ever seen a UFO.
Probably. I think that I have probably seen an alien too, but just didn't know it. I honestly believe that they are here.
And lastly, Lulubelle asks if I could have a magic/super power, what would it be and would I use it for good or evil.
I want an invisibility cloak. I want to use it for both good and evil. But, mostly...I just want to hear and see what people are like when they aren't feeling watched.
And now..Glee is on, so I am off to lose myself in some freakish bliss.
I'm not really stuck, but not really moving either. I'm not depressed, but just not in a place where I feel like doing much. I'm really grateful for all of these questions to answer because I feel like my life is so boring lately. Even my inner thoughts don't seem worth mentioning.
Okay...Raven asks what I think that Bing and I will be doing ten years after Liv is in college.
Okay. She is nearly eleven now. When she leaves for college, I will be 59. So, ten years AFTER that, I will be 69. That sounds incredibly old to me. But, then, I remember that when I was in college, I thought that 35 sounded old. Bing and I have long had a plan that we want to move to Mexico after Liv leaves the nest. We are saving with that in mind. I think it is only fair. Bing has suffered through prairie winters with me for many years. I owe her a place in the sun. And I will like it too, I think. To be honest, though....I always wanted to live in a small cottage by the sea in some place like Maine. But, well....marriage is all about compromise.
Raven also asks if I wrote a book, would it be memoir or fiction.
Fiction. My memoirs would really not be interesting to anyone other than my family. And maybe not even them. My sisters and Bing know that I write a blog. They only visit sporadically. I don't know that they would even BUY my memoirs! I think I would do better with fiction.
Deb asks the very interesting question: Was there anyone who warned Bing about getting involved with you and vice versa?
Hmm. I am thinking. I believe that one of her ex girlfriends warned her that I would break her heart. I don't think her family had any problems with us hooking up. Bing and I joke regularly that her family likes me a lot more than they like her....
And no one warned me about being with Bing. If anything, I had people shoving her at me with both hands. I think that those who love me knew that she would be exactly what I needed long before I knew it myself. I am just that obtuse. It took me years and years to decide to be with her. And even now, I have moments of doubt. Not because I don't love her but because I just suck at co-habitation. But, I seem to be domesticated. Now that she is gone, I find myself feeling as if I have no arms.
Deb also asks if Bing was not in my life and an opportunity to marry Liv's father came about, would I do that?
God, no. And I know that he feels the same. We are two people who don't fit well on paper or in practice. He is much younger than me. He and I don't fit on any long term or even short term level. We like each other a great deal. I know that he thinks that I am a good mother and I believe that he is an excellent father. And while we are thankful for each other because without both of us there would be no Liv, we have no illusions about each other. When he visits, he often comments on my moodiness and not in a complimentary way. He also thinks that I am very aloof. His nickname for me is "Ice." And it is the way he sees my temperament. What we shared to create Liv was very brief, a flash in the pan thing. If Liv hadn't been born, I know for certain that we would not have stayed in touch.
Caz wants to know what vegetables I grow in my garden.
Pretty much everything at one time or another. Peas. Beans. Lettuce (3 kinds), potatoes, zucchini, pumpkins, squash, radishes, okra, tomatoes and peppers this year.
An anonymous reader asks what my totem animals are.
I just have one: owls. And I only know this because someone from the Omaha Indian tribe told me so.
Anon also wants to know what act of grooming I tend to slack on.
Flossing.
And what act of housework I slack on.
I really detest dusting. Just HATE it. So, that is one of Liv's chores. But since she is gone all summer, I suppose it will be me and the Pledge every week.
Anon asks what I am vainest about?
My skin. I have always had excellent skin and even now, I somehow still have lots of silk in it.
What do I love most about Bing, Liv and Socks?
I love Bing's off beat humor.
I love Liv's independent spirit.
I love Socks' loyalty.
How am I most like my Da, mother, sisters?
I have my Da's way of expressing myself. I like to write and read as he did. I have my mother's practical, cool nature. My sisters and I all share the same chin and that is it. We are all very different from each other. Yet, we sound almost identical to each other on the phone (My sister, Celia once called our house and Bing thought it was me...she called her "babycakes" and teasingly asked her if she was naked..it was a very uncomfortable conversation after that...)
Snooker asks a compelling question. If there had been a test to predict whether Liv would be homosexual or not, would I have had it?
No. I did know that she was going to be a girl, though. I don't get people who don't want to know their child's sex. Why not? I would not have had that test if it had been available. Mostly because I don't care. But, if I did have some way of knowing before she was born and knew that she would be gay?
This is hard to admit. No, I wouldn't be thrilled. For the ONLY reason that I want to protect her more than anything in the world and knowing that she would most surely be hurt at some time in her life because of her sexual preference? That would kill me.
From ZC:
Which of Bing's nags are right on target?
She thinks that I don't eat healthy enough.
I had a bowl of Cap'n Crunch for dinner. Enough said.
What animal would Harriet, Bing and Liv be?
Harriet: a giraffe...she is tall, like freakishly so...(ducking as Harriet's purse flies through the air at me)
Bing: an ox...she is strong, steadfast and stubborn
Liv: a seal...she loves the water.
Anon asks: If you could eat dinner with 6 people (five living, one dead) who would you chose:
1) Bill Bryson
2) President Obama
3) Elizabeth Berg
4) Sufjan Stevens
5) Anderson Cooper
6) Lady Diana
C asks if I have ever seen a UFO.
Probably. I think that I have probably seen an alien too, but just didn't know it. I honestly believe that they are here.
And lastly, Lulubelle asks if I could have a magic/super power, what would it be and would I use it for good or evil.
I want an invisibility cloak. I want to use it for both good and evil. But, mostly...I just want to hear and see what people are like when they aren't feeling watched.
And now..Glee is on, so I am off to lose myself in some freakish bliss.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
And on it goes...
Slept until nearly noon. Wow. Cannot remember the last time that I did that.
Earth Muffin asks what my all time favorite movie is.
I have two. Out of Africa and Garden State. Both just sort of resonate with me. I think that is why a movie becomes a favorite. A character, a place, a situation, a story....just grabs you by the neck and slam dunks you. Both of these movies did this to me. Out of Africa because I love Isak Dinesen and always felt that she lived an incredible life. Garden State might seem a weird choice for me. The first time I watched it, I began crying and could not figure out why. Eventually, I figured it out. The film is all about distancing yourself in order to keep yourself intact. Works for me.
Mme Benaut asks if I encouraged Liv to study music because of Bing.
I didn't. I don't know how she became so enamored with it. Maybe it was because Bing plays lots of instruments (guitar, piano, drums, almost all percussion really) and we have a music parlor full of things from goat toes to marimbas to make music. Liv took to music early and her tastes are incredibly sophisticated. I never encouraged her. I just noticed that she took a liking to playing and asked her if she wanted lessons. She did. She plays violin, piano, saxophone and harmonica. And yes, she is very, very talented. But, no. I didn't push her in that direction. I am about the least musical person that you will ever meet.
Anna asks what the hardest part of medical school was and the easiest.
Med school wasn't the hard part. Studying was not awful. I am good at memorizing and have a photographic memory. I am also a detail person. I can remember incidents that happened years ago in perfect minute detail. The hardest part was the 48 hour shift. They were brutal and so, so dangerous. Think about it. Your child has just been hit by a car and is being rushed to the ER. Do you REALLY want that intern who has been on call for 47 hours to treat your child? Well, it happens daily. After about the 32nd hour, you get not only dizzy, but your brain starts to slide into slow motion. And you have to make life or death decisions. This is insane.
This Mom asks what my favorite grade was in school.
I actually liked my freshman year of college best. I did not suffer from any of that homesickness that you hear about. I genuinely LOVED being away from home, away from my little town. I felt a freedom, a peace, that I have never forgotten.
Another Anon (and this one I would bet my mortgage is the Palin supporter from many moons ago...nice to hear from you again, btw...I never liked the way we left things) asks if I think that something I believe strongly might, in fact, be just the opposite?
Yes. I think that in order to have strong, OPEN opinions you have to be willing to see all possibilities. Do I think that Sarah Palin might, um..in fact, have been a good vice president? Not on your life. The more I read about her, the less impressed I am and I was never all that interested in her to begin with. But, am I OPEN to the fact that she might actually have been a better choice than Obama? Sure. I am open to seeing pigs flying once in a while too. We live in a crazy ass world. Anything can and does happen.
Our Sarah supporter also asks what personality traits shape my life and most influence my decisions.
I think with my head rather than my heart. I always have. It has caused me to make the best and worst decisions of my life. I wish that a little more of my heart could seep into how I look at life, but I tend to nearly always make decisions based on rational, logical thought. I very rarely lead with my heart.
She also asks if I were to plan a trip around the world, where would I go?
In no particular order:
1) Australia. I really, really want to meet Mme Benaut. From the first e-mail we tentatively sent off to each other, we have just clicked.
2) Japan. Another blogger, JY...lives there and ditto the above.
3) England. I have always been curious about this place. Bill Bryson is one of my all time favorite writers.
4) Ireland. My Da was from County Killarney and I would like to see what he first laid eyes on in his youth.
5) Africa. I want to see Bing.
6) New York. I love my visits there. I think Terroni and I could meet up and go get a drink and swap crazy stories.
7) New Mexico. Off to see Eric. The man who understands the ledge and talks me off of it regularly. I also want him to show me how to be a detective.
More later.
Earth Muffin asks what my all time favorite movie is.
I have two. Out of Africa and Garden State. Both just sort of resonate with me. I think that is why a movie becomes a favorite. A character, a place, a situation, a story....just grabs you by the neck and slam dunks you. Both of these movies did this to me. Out of Africa because I love Isak Dinesen and always felt that she lived an incredible life. Garden State might seem a weird choice for me. The first time I watched it, I began crying and could not figure out why. Eventually, I figured it out. The film is all about distancing yourself in order to keep yourself intact. Works for me.
Mme Benaut asks if I encouraged Liv to study music because of Bing.
I didn't. I don't know how she became so enamored with it. Maybe it was because Bing plays lots of instruments (guitar, piano, drums, almost all percussion really) and we have a music parlor full of things from goat toes to marimbas to make music. Liv took to music early and her tastes are incredibly sophisticated. I never encouraged her. I just noticed that she took a liking to playing and asked her if she wanted lessons. She did. She plays violin, piano, saxophone and harmonica. And yes, she is very, very talented. But, no. I didn't push her in that direction. I am about the least musical person that you will ever meet.
Anna asks what the hardest part of medical school was and the easiest.
Med school wasn't the hard part. Studying was not awful. I am good at memorizing and have a photographic memory. I am also a detail person. I can remember incidents that happened years ago in perfect minute detail. The hardest part was the 48 hour shift. They were brutal and so, so dangerous. Think about it. Your child has just been hit by a car and is being rushed to the ER. Do you REALLY want that intern who has been on call for 47 hours to treat your child? Well, it happens daily. After about the 32nd hour, you get not only dizzy, but your brain starts to slide into slow motion. And you have to make life or death decisions. This is insane.
This Mom asks what my favorite grade was in school.
I actually liked my freshman year of college best. I did not suffer from any of that homesickness that you hear about. I genuinely LOVED being away from home, away from my little town. I felt a freedom, a peace, that I have never forgotten.
Another Anon (and this one I would bet my mortgage is the Palin supporter from many moons ago...nice to hear from you again, btw...I never liked the way we left things) asks if I think that something I believe strongly might, in fact, be just the opposite?
Yes. I think that in order to have strong, OPEN opinions you have to be willing to see all possibilities. Do I think that Sarah Palin might, um..in fact, have been a good vice president? Not on your life. The more I read about her, the less impressed I am and I was never all that interested in her to begin with. But, am I OPEN to the fact that she might actually have been a better choice than Obama? Sure. I am open to seeing pigs flying once in a while too. We live in a crazy ass world. Anything can and does happen.
Our Sarah supporter also asks what personality traits shape my life and most influence my decisions.
I think with my head rather than my heart. I always have. It has caused me to make the best and worst decisions of my life. I wish that a little more of my heart could seep into how I look at life, but I tend to nearly always make decisions based on rational, logical thought. I very rarely lead with my heart.
She also asks if I were to plan a trip around the world, where would I go?
In no particular order:
1) Australia. I really, really want to meet Mme Benaut. From the first e-mail we tentatively sent off to each other, we have just clicked.
2) Japan. Another blogger, JY...lives there and ditto the above.
3) England. I have always been curious about this place. Bill Bryson is one of my all time favorite writers.
4) Ireland. My Da was from County Killarney and I would like to see what he first laid eyes on in his youth.
5) Africa. I want to see Bing.
6) New York. I love my visits there. I think Terroni and I could meet up and go get a drink and swap crazy stories.
7) New Mexico. Off to see Eric. The man who understands the ledge and talks me off of it regularly. I also want him to show me how to be a detective.
More later.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Continuing on
Ok...I spent a good part of the afternoon cleaning bathrooms, so I reek of bleach and sweat. I'm just way too sexy for this blog. But, you can eat off of my shower floor now.
JY asks: 24 hours to Armageddon. What do you say or do to Bing and Liv?
Fuck. I think I would be apologizing. Mostly because I think that they deserve so much better than me. I am a poor partner and although I try hard to be a good mother, I fail miserably sometimes. I have always felt tremendous guilt for breaking up with Bing that first time and hurting her so badly. (That David Cook song in my previous blog? She actually sent me that video and said that this was exactly how she felt when I left her that first time. She also refused to get back together with me until I practically signed my name in blood that I wouldn't leave again, would at least give us a good chance.) Bing is an excellent partner. She is protective, loving and gives without thinking about it. I am less so. I tend to be very introspective and like my privacy within the relationship. I am not inclined to be a huggy sort of person and I am not romantic, in general. The truth is that inside myself I am very much in love with her still and my feelings for her sometimes are so powerful that it scares me. I just don't show it. I think she gets the raw end of our deal while I get all the perks. It isn't fair. But, she stays with me and never gives up on me. I suspect that she knows how desperately in love I am with her and understands that I just can't find the words most of the time.
With Liv, I think that I fulfill my role better. I truly work hard at being a good parent and I believe that she trusts me and feels loved by me. But, I feel terrible about my moods. Every few months, I seem to go into a depression and I spend a week or so having to really work to be engaged with the world. I don't think she knows it, I am fairly good at faking everything, but I know it and that is enough. I sometimes get so tired of all the traveling that is involved with parenting these days. I feel as if I am always driving her somewhere or picking her up. I get annoyed at the time this robs from me. So, yeah. I feel guilty.
So, I think that I would be hitting my knees in front of both of them, making amends. And then, well....I would chose to die with Liv in my lap and both of us in Bing's arms.
Workouter asks what I think my life would be like in Russia.
No freaking idea. I have very little knowledge of Russia, so no knowledge base to rely on. I would enjoy knowing the language. I have always thought that Russian was beautiful to listen to.
Kate jokingly asked me what food of my choice would I bathe in.
Ah, Kate...it has to be champagne. Or maybe green tea. Nothing sugary. The last thing I want is a yeast infection.
Kate also asks if I had more children, what would I name them?
Liv came very close to being named Isis. What the hell was I thinking? God, that would be a lot more brutal than her name now. I always liked the old fashioned names, though. I like Grace, Ella, Julia and Claire for girls. For boys...I like Spencer and I used to like Clayton until Clay Aiken ruined it for me. I really hate this current trend in calling children names like Jordan, Madison, Sierra or Dallas.
Anonymous asks what I see as the difference between hetero sex and lesbian sex. She says that she has trouble with the idea of having to take turns.
Well, Anon...you don't always have to take turns in lesbian sex. Ever heard of 69? And to be honest, even in hetero sex....it is kind of rare to both orgasm at the same time, I think. It has only happened to me once and that was in college.
I like sex with both men and women. What I really like is a certain personality. I'm all about fitting first in the head and then in the body. I've always liked men and women who were smart and funny (who doesn't...you don't hear too many people saying they like dumb, dour partners) but I like a certain kind of humor. I like a very low key, sardonic sort of humor. And I also like someone who isn't too shy. I am lazy. I don't want to spend my time having to draw someone out and seduce them. I much rather prefer being seduced. So, a go-getting personality is more sexy to me.
The sex act itself? I like it both ways. I like the feeling of being completely filled by a man. I like the feeling of being totally in sync with a woman. I am not big on either sex being sloppy kissers. I don't want to feel like I am being swallowed whole. I want to be KISSED. A little tongue is wonderful. A lot of tongue is just plain spitty. And I don't mind raunchy talk, but porno talk ("C'mon, baby...ride that pole!") completely turns me off.
You know what I hate? And this is going to sound so nitpicky. I hate the aftermath of sex. The whole problem of wet spots and both of us all soaked with each other. Sorry. I like my shower right away.
And no, I am not into sex toys. I am pretty sure that Bing would be game, but I have never been too keen on bringing hardware into the bed. I would be really uncomfortable being tied up or handcuffed too. And I am not a good role player. I just plain refuse to don a maid's outfit or a nurse's uniform.
What I really like? Long talk before long sex. Complete ease with my partner. The kind of sex you can have when you know each other well. You can have that with men and women. And one sex is not better at it than the other. But some personalities are better at it and that is the whole rub for me. Personality.
Okay...time for dinner and then I am going to take Socks for a walk and come home and watch a movie. Go to bed early. (Thunderstorms kept me up last night, so I am tired today.)
More tomorrow. And more blog reading.
JY asks: 24 hours to Armageddon. What do you say or do to Bing and Liv?
Fuck. I think I would be apologizing. Mostly because I think that they deserve so much better than me. I am a poor partner and although I try hard to be a good mother, I fail miserably sometimes. I have always felt tremendous guilt for breaking up with Bing that first time and hurting her so badly. (That David Cook song in my previous blog? She actually sent me that video and said that this was exactly how she felt when I left her that first time. She also refused to get back together with me until I practically signed my name in blood that I wouldn't leave again, would at least give us a good chance.) Bing is an excellent partner. She is protective, loving and gives without thinking about it. I am less so. I tend to be very introspective and like my privacy within the relationship. I am not inclined to be a huggy sort of person and I am not romantic, in general. The truth is that inside myself I am very much in love with her still and my feelings for her sometimes are so powerful that it scares me. I just don't show it. I think she gets the raw end of our deal while I get all the perks. It isn't fair. But, she stays with me and never gives up on me. I suspect that she knows how desperately in love I am with her and understands that I just can't find the words most of the time.
With Liv, I think that I fulfill my role better. I truly work hard at being a good parent and I believe that she trusts me and feels loved by me. But, I feel terrible about my moods. Every few months, I seem to go into a depression and I spend a week or so having to really work to be engaged with the world. I don't think she knows it, I am fairly good at faking everything, but I know it and that is enough. I sometimes get so tired of all the traveling that is involved with parenting these days. I feel as if I am always driving her somewhere or picking her up. I get annoyed at the time this robs from me. So, yeah. I feel guilty.
So, I think that I would be hitting my knees in front of both of them, making amends. And then, well....I would chose to die with Liv in my lap and both of us in Bing's arms.
Workouter asks what I think my life would be like in Russia.
No freaking idea. I have very little knowledge of Russia, so no knowledge base to rely on. I would enjoy knowing the language. I have always thought that Russian was beautiful to listen to.
Kate jokingly asked me what food of my choice would I bathe in.
Ah, Kate...it has to be champagne. Or maybe green tea. Nothing sugary. The last thing I want is a yeast infection.
Kate also asks if I had more children, what would I name them?
Liv came very close to being named Isis. What the hell was I thinking? God, that would be a lot more brutal than her name now. I always liked the old fashioned names, though. I like Grace, Ella, Julia and Claire for girls. For boys...I like Spencer and I used to like Clayton until Clay Aiken ruined it for me. I really hate this current trend in calling children names like Jordan, Madison, Sierra or Dallas.
Anonymous asks what I see as the difference between hetero sex and lesbian sex. She says that she has trouble with the idea of having to take turns.
Well, Anon...you don't always have to take turns in lesbian sex. Ever heard of 69? And to be honest, even in hetero sex....it is kind of rare to both orgasm at the same time, I think. It has only happened to me once and that was in college.
I like sex with both men and women. What I really like is a certain personality. I'm all about fitting first in the head and then in the body. I've always liked men and women who were smart and funny (who doesn't...you don't hear too many people saying they like dumb, dour partners) but I like a certain kind of humor. I like a very low key, sardonic sort of humor. And I also like someone who isn't too shy. I am lazy. I don't want to spend my time having to draw someone out and seduce them. I much rather prefer being seduced. So, a go-getting personality is more sexy to me.
The sex act itself? I like it both ways. I like the feeling of being completely filled by a man. I like the feeling of being totally in sync with a woman. I am not big on either sex being sloppy kissers. I don't want to feel like I am being swallowed whole. I want to be KISSED. A little tongue is wonderful. A lot of tongue is just plain spitty. And I don't mind raunchy talk, but porno talk ("C'mon, baby...ride that pole!") completely turns me off.
You know what I hate? And this is going to sound so nitpicky. I hate the aftermath of sex. The whole problem of wet spots and both of us all soaked with each other. Sorry. I like my shower right away.
And no, I am not into sex toys. I am pretty sure that Bing would be game, but I have never been too keen on bringing hardware into the bed. I would be really uncomfortable being tied up or handcuffed too. And I am not a good role player. I just plain refuse to don a maid's outfit or a nurse's uniform.
What I really like? Long talk before long sex. Complete ease with my partner. The kind of sex you can have when you know each other well. You can have that with men and women. And one sex is not better at it than the other. But some personalities are better at it and that is the whole rub for me. Personality.
Okay...time for dinner and then I am going to take Socks for a walk and come home and watch a movie. Go to bed early. (Thunderstorms kept me up last night, so I am tired today.)
More tomorrow. And more blog reading.
Friday, June 04, 2010
Maria tries to answer honestly
That's the hard part, yes? Answering honestly? But, I will try my best.
First, several of you asked me to answer my own questions. Since, I am being honest, I will admit that I wrote them with no intention of having to answer them myself...so..
1) A television show that you secretly enjoy.
Hands down, American Idol. I watched it this season for the first time. I immediately decided that Simon was the only judge worth his salt and now he is leaving the show. It figures. I found myself getting interested in the contestants, even though the show itself is pretty cheesy. I liked Casey James and Lee DeWyze the best (and they were handled on the show as "the construction worker" and "the paint salesman"...talk about CHEESY.) After Lee won, I actually went into a small depression knowing that I would have to wait until next year to watch it again. I did some research on past Idol winners and decided that David Cook wasn't a slacker either. His song, COME BACK TO ME actually made me choke up the first time that I heard it. I really liked Lee DeWyze's songs on You Tube, so I bought his previous albums and have been listening to them every day on the way to work. Wow. How can someone so young be so freakin' talented. I will never make fun of American Idol again. Ever.
2) The dumbest thing you ever said on a date.
I was a freshman in college and on a date with a woman who was a senior. She was this very sophisticated (well...in my eyes...) woman and was talking about how much she loved Ernest Hemingway. I had read somewhere that he had a fetish about his feet, so in trying to sound as bright as a new penny, I said, "I read somewhere that Hemingway had a fetish about his feet." This would have been fine if I had pronounced the word fetish correctly. I knew what the word meant but had never heard it said out loud.
I pronounced it FEETISH. So, yeah, I said he was feetish about his um...feet.
She must have really wanted to get laid because she never said a word to correct me. It wasn't until months later and we had stopped dating that I discovered that I had said the word incorrectly. And then every time I ran into her, I ducked my head with embarrassment.
3) Who is smarter, you or your partner? Be honest.
That is a hard one. Since she is the one with the Fulbright, I should probably say that she is. And she is smarter about music, science and money. But, I regularly beat her at Jeopardy! And I am much smarter about medicine (lots of money would be wasted if I wasn't), literature and history. Let's call it a draw. Well, let's not. She and I recently took an updated IQ test and mine was slightly higher than hers, so I am going to wear that damn crown. Too bad, honey.
4) Have you ever acted out when jealous?
Once. Never again. Once when I was dating this man when I was in my late twenties, he wasn't paying proper attention to me at a party, so I began flirting with another man. It was so stupid. He just became angry and then I had this other guy who thought I meant business when I didn't. It was a bad night all around. I have never acted on jealousy again. And to be honest, as promised, the older I get the less jealous I am about nearly everything.
5) Who is a famous person whom you think would be good at oral sex?
I say Johnny Depp. Ellen Degeneres. For the other shoe, I bet that Reese Witherspoon, Tina Fey and Alex Baldwin suck at sucking.
6) If you had to give up one food for a month that you really liked, what would it be?
Oatmeal. I really like oatmeal but in the Summer, I could give it up.
7) Have you ever gossiped about a friend?
Yes. But, only about trivial things. I would never share a confidence.
8) Do you and your partner have idiotic pet names for each other?
Yes. I call her Bing. (You didn't really think that was her real name, did you?) I call her this because the first Christmas after my mother disowned me, I was horribly depressed. Bing was just a friend then and she came to spend Christmas with me so I wouldn't be alone. I woke up Christmas morning to her sitting next to my bed, holding a piece of bacon under my nose and singing White Christmas. I told her to keep her day job, she was no Bing Crosby. Thus..Bing. She calls me sweet ass gal, sugar foot, the glam (as in "Hey, the glam just walked in the room.") but she mostly calls me "tulip." Yes, there is a story behind it. No, I won't share it because it will make me cry.
9) Ever had a one night stand? Any regrets?
Yes, too many to count. Yes, I regret a lot of them. Mostly because I was drunk or high. And also because I hurt a few people who truly didn't deserve it.
10) Have you ever dialed drunk to an ex?
Just to one person. She and I went on a road trip together when I was in my thirties. We had a lot of fun. One vivid memory is of sitting side by side on a bed, our backs against a hotel headboard, sharing a joint and singing "and Aubrey was her name, I never knew her but I loved her just the same...."
She dialed me drunk first. Then it was my turn. We just had very hard time letting each other go but she lived in Utah and I lived on the prairie, so....
She is married with two children now. She and her partner still live in Utah. We used to call each other after every episode of Lost. We are still really good friends. When that Lady Antebellum song came out about dialing drunk, she called me to tell me to listen to "our song."
We haven't dialed drunk in many, many years. I think we both are pretty content with our partners.
Well, I planned on stopping there, but I am wide awake, so I will tackle one or two of your questions.
Liz asks: If you could take a genetic test to find out what diseases you were genetically inclined to get or how long you would live, would you do it?
Wow. A truly hard one. My first instinct was to say no. Talk about courting calamity! But, then I thought how stupid that was. I mean, if I have the chance to know something like that, wouldn't it be prudent to be pro-active? I still say no. I absolutely would not want to know when I would die. I know myself too well. If I knew that I would die at say, 83, I would eat like a pig, drink like a fish and not exercise. And if I had known at age 21 that Meniere's Syndrome would attack me at the ripe old age of 37 or that I would occasionally walk with a cane when I was only 50 years old because of rheumatoid arthritis? It would have made me very depressed.
Karen asks me what I predict for Liv's future.
I have no idea. She is so different from me. I was a voracious reader at her age. She reads, but it isn't a focal part of her day. She would much rather play the piano or violin than read. She is very good at math. Neither her father nor I excel at it. She is much more coordinated than I was at her age. She is good at sports, not terrifically good (except at swimming) but pretty good. She has a lovely singing voice. She rarely watches television and when she does, it is usually cooking shows. She is not really talented at art or crafts, doesn't like writing much.
She wants to be either a mathematician or an astronaut now. I suspect that she will do something with either music or math. Not performing. She is not comfortable on stage. But maybe teaching or writing music. She has written a few songs for piano and Bing tells me that they are pretty remarkable for a child her age.
I can see her being a mathematician too, I suppose. She actually likes string theory and understands it better than I do. Not that this is saying much since I barely know what it is.
Bing thinks that she will be a doctor. I dunno. I wouldn't be surprised at anything. I did tell her a few months ago that she needed to go on American Idol. I told her that it is her job to let me live vicariously through her. She thought that I was kidding....
Antonia wants me to describe Bing. Describe me.
Yes, you are right. I don't post photos. I have that pee butt stalker, remember.
Ok, I look exactly like Tina Fey.
In my dreams.
I think that Bing is good looking, but others have told me that she isn't all that attractive. She is 5'4 and a runner, so she has that hot muscle look in her legs and arms. Not too bulgy, but she has muscles. She is neither fat nor thin, is just right. She is a very healthy eater and looks that way. She has very low body fat. I know this because she checks it every single morning and then writes it down on a calendar in our bedroom. Bing had almost jet black hair when we were in college. She wore it short. She recently stopped dyeing her hair and now she is going gray rapidly. She wears her hair very short and very spiky. She has the most gorgeous light brown eyes. Her skin is olive toned. When I first met her, I didn't think she was attractive. Now, there are times when we are making love or just sitting across from each other in a booth and I think to myself that she is so beautiful. I asked Harriet (bff) before if she thought that Bing was attractive and she said that it was the same for her, that when she met Bing, she thought she was very plain but as she got to know her, she decided that she was easy on the eyes. Bing has a very deadpan, very sardonic sense of humor. Harriet thinks she is more like Sarah Silverman than Ellen Degeneres. I agree. Bing makes me laugh all the time. She has this sort of eclectic view of the world. About a year ago, we were at a friend's home and this friend brought out this contraption called a "thigh master" to show us. Bing did this impromptu demonstration of how exactly a thigh master worked. She was so funny that the next day at work, I kept thinking of her sitting with that thigh master and looking so deadpan earnest about it that I would crack up ALONE in my office, just remembering. If I had to pick a famous person to give you an idea of what she looks like, I think it would be Ellen Degeneres except with dark hair. Ellen isn't a beauty, but her humor makes her lovely.
Me. Well. Now. Okay. Honesty wins.
I used to be really, really pretty. I tell you this even though I know it sounds vain. I just was. In my circle of friends in college, I was known as the milkmaid because, well, because, because I had this freshly scrubbed, clean look.
I am no longer so fresh faced. I am short (barely five feet) and I am not skinny, but I am not fat either. I would say that I am just right except that I think that my boobs are too small and my butt is too big. I wear Chanel suits when I can because I think they favor smallish women.
My best asset is probably my skin. One of the reasons that I was dubbed the milkmaid was because I have what is referred to as "porcelain" skin. Very fair and very white. Bing told me that the first time we made love, she was overwhelmed by how soft my skin was. I have always been lucky that way. Not one pimple all through high school. My first real pimple was when I was 42 and I was stunned. It was big and it was right on the tip of my nose. I was half repulsed, half fascinated by it.
I wear glasses and I have several pair. John Lennon ones. Horn rims. Bright red ones. Green ones. And boxy black ones. My favorites are a pair of cat eye ones. I am very near sighted but have never worn contacts because I have a phobia about putting anything in my eye.
I am not aging well. Just the facts, ma'am. Bing and I are changing places. When we first hooked up, I was the pretty Farrah to her Kate Jackson. Now, each year I get less and less attractive and she gets more and more attractive. Pretty soon, people will be asking me if I am her mother.
I asked Harriet what famous person I could compare myself to and she said, "An older Carey Mulligan. A MUCH older Carey Mulligan." So..Ellen and an old Carey. That is Bing and that is me.
Plus, I have no endearing sense of humor to save me, like my partner does. I am not particularly funny and I am not known for being especially warm and accessible either. So, nothing special to save me.
We are just two okay looking women.
And now I am suddenly exhausted. Time to let Socks out for his last pee of the night and take a hot bath and slide my legs into my soft brown bamboo sheets.
Will tackle the rest of it tomorrow and hopefully catch up on blog reading. I have been such a sloth all week.
Just another attractive quality.....
First, several of you asked me to answer my own questions. Since, I am being honest, I will admit that I wrote them with no intention of having to answer them myself...so..
1) A television show that you secretly enjoy.
Hands down, American Idol. I watched it this season for the first time. I immediately decided that Simon was the only judge worth his salt and now he is leaving the show. It figures. I found myself getting interested in the contestants, even though the show itself is pretty cheesy. I liked Casey James and Lee DeWyze the best (and they were handled on the show as "the construction worker" and "the paint salesman"...talk about CHEESY.) After Lee won, I actually went into a small depression knowing that I would have to wait until next year to watch it again. I did some research on past Idol winners and decided that David Cook wasn't a slacker either. His song, COME BACK TO ME actually made me choke up the first time that I heard it. I really liked Lee DeWyze's songs on You Tube, so I bought his previous albums and have been listening to them every day on the way to work. Wow. How can someone so young be so freakin' talented. I will never make fun of American Idol again. Ever.
2) The dumbest thing you ever said on a date.
I was a freshman in college and on a date with a woman who was a senior. She was this very sophisticated (well...in my eyes...) woman and was talking about how much she loved Ernest Hemingway. I had read somewhere that he had a fetish about his feet, so in trying to sound as bright as a new penny, I said, "I read somewhere that Hemingway had a fetish about his feet." This would have been fine if I had pronounced the word fetish correctly. I knew what the word meant but had never heard it said out loud.
I pronounced it FEETISH. So, yeah, I said he was feetish about his um...feet.
She must have really wanted to get laid because she never said a word to correct me. It wasn't until months later and we had stopped dating that I discovered that I had said the word incorrectly. And then every time I ran into her, I ducked my head with embarrassment.
3) Who is smarter, you or your partner? Be honest.
That is a hard one. Since she is the one with the Fulbright, I should probably say that she is. And she is smarter about music, science and money. But, I regularly beat her at Jeopardy! And I am much smarter about medicine (lots of money would be wasted if I wasn't), literature and history. Let's call it a draw. Well, let's not. She and I recently took an updated IQ test and mine was slightly higher than hers, so I am going to wear that damn crown. Too bad, honey.
4) Have you ever acted out when jealous?
Once. Never again. Once when I was dating this man when I was in my late twenties, he wasn't paying proper attention to me at a party, so I began flirting with another man. It was so stupid. He just became angry and then I had this other guy who thought I meant business when I didn't. It was a bad night all around. I have never acted on jealousy again. And to be honest, as promised, the older I get the less jealous I am about nearly everything.
5) Who is a famous person whom you think would be good at oral sex?
I say Johnny Depp. Ellen Degeneres. For the other shoe, I bet that Reese Witherspoon, Tina Fey and Alex Baldwin suck at sucking.
6) If you had to give up one food for a month that you really liked, what would it be?
Oatmeal. I really like oatmeal but in the Summer, I could give it up.
7) Have you ever gossiped about a friend?
Yes. But, only about trivial things. I would never share a confidence.
8) Do you and your partner have idiotic pet names for each other?
Yes. I call her Bing. (You didn't really think that was her real name, did you?) I call her this because the first Christmas after my mother disowned me, I was horribly depressed. Bing was just a friend then and she came to spend Christmas with me so I wouldn't be alone. I woke up Christmas morning to her sitting next to my bed, holding a piece of bacon under my nose and singing White Christmas. I told her to keep her day job, she was no Bing Crosby. Thus..Bing. She calls me sweet ass gal, sugar foot, the glam (as in "Hey, the glam just walked in the room.") but she mostly calls me "tulip." Yes, there is a story behind it. No, I won't share it because it will make me cry.
9) Ever had a one night stand? Any regrets?
Yes, too many to count. Yes, I regret a lot of them. Mostly because I was drunk or high. And also because I hurt a few people who truly didn't deserve it.
10) Have you ever dialed drunk to an ex?
Just to one person. She and I went on a road trip together when I was in my thirties. We had a lot of fun. One vivid memory is of sitting side by side on a bed, our backs against a hotel headboard, sharing a joint and singing "and Aubrey was her name, I never knew her but I loved her just the same...."
She dialed me drunk first. Then it was my turn. We just had very hard time letting each other go but she lived in Utah and I lived on the prairie, so....
She is married with two children now. She and her partner still live in Utah. We used to call each other after every episode of Lost. We are still really good friends. When that Lady Antebellum song came out about dialing drunk, she called me to tell me to listen to "our song."
We haven't dialed drunk in many, many years. I think we both are pretty content with our partners.
Well, I planned on stopping there, but I am wide awake, so I will tackle one or two of your questions.
Liz asks: If you could take a genetic test to find out what diseases you were genetically inclined to get or how long you would live, would you do it?
Wow. A truly hard one. My first instinct was to say no. Talk about courting calamity! But, then I thought how stupid that was. I mean, if I have the chance to know something like that, wouldn't it be prudent to be pro-active? I still say no. I absolutely would not want to know when I would die. I know myself too well. If I knew that I would die at say, 83, I would eat like a pig, drink like a fish and not exercise. And if I had known at age 21 that Meniere's Syndrome would attack me at the ripe old age of 37 or that I would occasionally walk with a cane when I was only 50 years old because of rheumatoid arthritis? It would have made me very depressed.
Karen asks me what I predict for Liv's future.
I have no idea. She is so different from me. I was a voracious reader at her age. She reads, but it isn't a focal part of her day. She would much rather play the piano or violin than read. She is very good at math. Neither her father nor I excel at it. She is much more coordinated than I was at her age. She is good at sports, not terrifically good (except at swimming) but pretty good. She has a lovely singing voice. She rarely watches television and when she does, it is usually cooking shows. She is not really talented at art or crafts, doesn't like writing much.
She wants to be either a mathematician or an astronaut now. I suspect that she will do something with either music or math. Not performing. She is not comfortable on stage. But maybe teaching or writing music. She has written a few songs for piano and Bing tells me that they are pretty remarkable for a child her age.
I can see her being a mathematician too, I suppose. She actually likes string theory and understands it better than I do. Not that this is saying much since I barely know what it is.
Bing thinks that she will be a doctor. I dunno. I wouldn't be surprised at anything. I did tell her a few months ago that she needed to go on American Idol. I told her that it is her job to let me live vicariously through her. She thought that I was kidding....
Antonia wants me to describe Bing. Describe me.
Yes, you are right. I don't post photos. I have that pee butt stalker, remember.
Ok, I look exactly like Tina Fey.
In my dreams.
I think that Bing is good looking, but others have told me that she isn't all that attractive. She is 5'4 and a runner, so she has that hot muscle look in her legs and arms. Not too bulgy, but she has muscles. She is neither fat nor thin, is just right. She is a very healthy eater and looks that way. She has very low body fat. I know this because she checks it every single morning and then writes it down on a calendar in our bedroom. Bing had almost jet black hair when we were in college. She wore it short. She recently stopped dyeing her hair and now she is going gray rapidly. She wears her hair very short and very spiky. She has the most gorgeous light brown eyes. Her skin is olive toned. When I first met her, I didn't think she was attractive. Now, there are times when we are making love or just sitting across from each other in a booth and I think to myself that she is so beautiful. I asked Harriet (bff) before if she thought that Bing was attractive and she said that it was the same for her, that when she met Bing, she thought she was very plain but as she got to know her, she decided that she was easy on the eyes. Bing has a very deadpan, very sardonic sense of humor. Harriet thinks she is more like Sarah Silverman than Ellen Degeneres. I agree. Bing makes me laugh all the time. She has this sort of eclectic view of the world. About a year ago, we were at a friend's home and this friend brought out this contraption called a "thigh master" to show us. Bing did this impromptu demonstration of how exactly a thigh master worked. She was so funny that the next day at work, I kept thinking of her sitting with that thigh master and looking so deadpan earnest about it that I would crack up ALONE in my office, just remembering. If I had to pick a famous person to give you an idea of what she looks like, I think it would be Ellen Degeneres except with dark hair. Ellen isn't a beauty, but her humor makes her lovely.
Me. Well. Now. Okay. Honesty wins.
I used to be really, really pretty. I tell you this even though I know it sounds vain. I just was. In my circle of friends in college, I was known as the milkmaid because, well, because, because I had this freshly scrubbed, clean look.
I am no longer so fresh faced. I am short (barely five feet) and I am not skinny, but I am not fat either. I would say that I am just right except that I think that my boobs are too small and my butt is too big. I wear Chanel suits when I can because I think they favor smallish women.
My best asset is probably my skin. One of the reasons that I was dubbed the milkmaid was because I have what is referred to as "porcelain" skin. Very fair and very white. Bing told me that the first time we made love, she was overwhelmed by how soft my skin was. I have always been lucky that way. Not one pimple all through high school. My first real pimple was when I was 42 and I was stunned. It was big and it was right on the tip of my nose. I was half repulsed, half fascinated by it.
I wear glasses and I have several pair. John Lennon ones. Horn rims. Bright red ones. Green ones. And boxy black ones. My favorites are a pair of cat eye ones. I am very near sighted but have never worn contacts because I have a phobia about putting anything in my eye.
I am not aging well. Just the facts, ma'am. Bing and I are changing places. When we first hooked up, I was the pretty Farrah to her Kate Jackson. Now, each year I get less and less attractive and she gets more and more attractive. Pretty soon, people will be asking me if I am her mother.
I asked Harriet what famous person I could compare myself to and she said, "An older Carey Mulligan. A MUCH older Carey Mulligan." So..Ellen and an old Carey. That is Bing and that is me.
Plus, I have no endearing sense of humor to save me, like my partner does. I am not particularly funny and I am not known for being especially warm and accessible either. So, nothing special to save me.
We are just two okay looking women.
And now I am suddenly exhausted. Time to let Socks out for his last pee of the night and take a hot bath and slide my legs into my soft brown bamboo sheets.
Will tackle the rest of it tomorrow and hopefully catch up on blog reading. I have been such a sloth all week.
Just another attractive quality.....
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Trying to come out of the fog
I don't think that I am depressed but the truth is that I am not myself since Bing and Liv left. I haven't been late for work, haven't sat around bawling, but I have often sat around staring.
Once, I got online and instead of blogging or reading blogs....I played Slingo for four hours. FOUR HOURS.
I've had a bowl of cereal for dinner every night for dinner since they left.
I had to get rid of the gin in the house because I was acting like a addict. I seldom drink, but found myself looking forward WAY TOO MUCH to a few gin and tonics at night. So, I poured the gin down the kitchen sink and haven't bought a replacement.
I know that I am stuck in a rut and I am sort of embarrassed but mostly not.
when I get home from work in the evening, I take off my business suit, but instead of putting on shorts, I slide into the same sun dress over and over again. I don't bother with a bra. I can get away with this because I am not well endowed. I can even take the dog for a walk and no one can tell that I am naked under the sun dress. I guess I should hope that there isn't a lot of wind....
I think I need a jump start. Wanna help me out here? Ask me a question and I will answer it. And c'mon, make me earn my keep here. Don't ask me what my favorite color is. Ask me what color I look worst in. Or ask me if I have ever read porn or the strangest thing I have ever eaten or what my favorite subject was in college. Something different.
I promise I will answer every question that isn't offensive or hasn't already been answered. (Yes, I am bi-sexual. No, I have never cheated on my wife. Yes, I have a pet. No, I am not a Republican.)
I feel the need to stretch my brain. Care to give me something tough to chew on?
And anyone care to answer one of these questions?
1) What television show do you secretly enjoy?
2) What is the dumbest thing you have ever said on a date?
3) Who is smarter, you or your partner? Be honest.
4) Have you ever acted out when you were jealous and what did you do?
5) What famous person do you think would be really good at oral sex? Why?
6) If you had to give up one food for a month and it had to be something you really like, what could you give up?
7) Have you ever gossiped about a friend?
8) What is a pet name that you and your partner use that is just plain idiotic?
9) Any one night stands? Do you regret them?
10) Ever dialed drunk to an old love?
Just curious. And I feel like I need a jolt. Not an earthquake. Not a tornado. Just a little kick in my pants. Will you help?
Once, I got online and instead of blogging or reading blogs....I played Slingo for four hours. FOUR HOURS.
I've had a bowl of cereal for dinner every night for dinner since they left.
I had to get rid of the gin in the house because I was acting like a addict. I seldom drink, but found myself looking forward WAY TOO MUCH to a few gin and tonics at night. So, I poured the gin down the kitchen sink and haven't bought a replacement.
I know that I am stuck in a rut and I am sort of embarrassed but mostly not.
when I get home from work in the evening, I take off my business suit, but instead of putting on shorts, I slide into the same sun dress over and over again. I don't bother with a bra. I can get away with this because I am not well endowed. I can even take the dog for a walk and no one can tell that I am naked under the sun dress. I guess I should hope that there isn't a lot of wind....
I think I need a jump start. Wanna help me out here? Ask me a question and I will answer it. And c'mon, make me earn my keep here. Don't ask me what my favorite color is. Ask me what color I look worst in. Or ask me if I have ever read porn or the strangest thing I have ever eaten or what my favorite subject was in college. Something different.
I promise I will answer every question that isn't offensive or hasn't already been answered. (Yes, I am bi-sexual. No, I have never cheated on my wife. Yes, I have a pet. No, I am not a Republican.)
I feel the need to stretch my brain. Care to give me something tough to chew on?
And anyone care to answer one of these questions?
1) What television show do you secretly enjoy?
2) What is the dumbest thing you have ever said on a date?
3) Who is smarter, you or your partner? Be honest.
4) Have you ever acted out when you were jealous and what did you do?
5) What famous person do you think would be really good at oral sex? Why?
6) If you had to give up one food for a month and it had to be something you really like, what could you give up?
7) Have you ever gossiped about a friend?
8) What is a pet name that you and your partner use that is just plain idiotic?
9) Any one night stands? Do you regret them?
10) Ever dialed drunk to an old love?
Just curious. And I feel like I need a jolt. Not an earthquake. Not a tornado. Just a little kick in my pants. Will you help?
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