Spend the night weeding my garden. The heat was palpable. Hit one hundred today, but I worked in the cool of the day, dusk.
I thought about this life of mine. The death of my Da when I was so young. The pain that my Mother put me through....and yes, the pain I caused her too. The love I feel for my sisters.
Meeting Liv's father-to-be. The sweet seduction that astounded both of us.
The birth of Liv, midwife at hand, in the small bedroom. Her first cry piercing into me hard and fast. Like someone took a magic wand and aimed it directly into my heart.
All those birthdays.
Bing. Always Bing. Sometimes in shadow, always just a phone call away. Never so far that she couldn't/wouldn't get to me if I needed her.
Falling in love with her when I thought that I would never be able to fall in love with anyone. Thought that God just left something crucial out of me. The shock of it all when it finally hit me that yes, I was capable of loving her.
Time moving. People coming into my life and out of it.
Friends. Family.
Leaving. Coming. Staying. Going.
And it felt exactly like this:
Is it like that for you too?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Dream weavers out there?
Last night it was all about monkeys. I dreamed that monkeys were in my house messing everything up.
Eating my Trix.
Going through boxes in my basement.
One of them could talk and he kept repeating words to some commercial that I hated when it was popular.
"Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz. Oh what a relief it is!"
I seriously wanted to strangle him but couldn't catch him.
They were riding on Socks' back, breaking eggs on my floors.
It was exhausting.
Any takers on this one?
Eating my Trix.
Going through boxes in my basement.
One of them could talk and he kept repeating words to some commercial that I hated when it was popular.
"Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz. Oh what a relief it is!"
I seriously wanted to strangle him but couldn't catch him.
They were riding on Socks' back, breaking eggs on my floors.
It was exhausting.
Any takers on this one?
Monday, June 27, 2011
Thing One and Thing Two or Maria and Carrie.
It is so tempting to start this post by saying that my name is not really Harriet. So I will start it that way but as you can see from the title of this post my real name is Carrie.
I don't care if the pee butt blog stalker (M's words, and so fitting!) comes after me. I'd love to give her a piece of my mind.
M and I call each other Thing One and Thing Two. We've been doing this since we met at our children's school. Her daughter was in first grade and mine was in preschool. Since that Montessori school was big on sweat equity, we both ended up volunteering to do the preschool/kindergarten lunch each day. M was still only working part time doing her jury consulting and I was a stay at home Mommy to my son who was in 2nd grade and my daughter who was a pre-schooler.
I didn't like M at first. I thought she was snotty. After we got to know each other, I realized that she wasn't snotty at all just very quiet and reticent. If any of you meet her you will see immediately what I mean. It takes a lot to get her to open up but once she does, you know that your in her circle and not many people are in there.
She's also very sentimental and kind hearted. She hides it like this is something bad and I don't know why.
My sister died a few years ago and since her husband is a douche bag, I got her two children to raise. I wasn't glad at first but now I am. They are now like my own. I also had another baby not too long ago, so my husband, Kim and I are the parents of five children now ranging in age from a toddler to a just turned 13 year old. We couldn't afford to keep all the kids in Montessori so we moved to West O and put them all in public school. I hate living in West O. M and I used to joke that we got nosebleeds if we went past 72nd St but it was the only place that we could find a house in our budget, so we're there with all the white people now.
M and I look like Mutt and Jeff. I'm almost 6 feet tall and she's a midget. I apologize for not using the word "little people" but M is dinky. I'm almost 9 years younger than she is and will never let her forget that. She's prettier but I'm healthier! I feel like a giantess when we go out.
I love M as much as I can love another woman without sleeping with her. She's a good friend and we compliment each other. I'm good at math, she sucks at it. She's quiet and I've got a big mouth. She and Bing have money and Kim and I don't. They aren't rich and we aren't poor but they have much more dough to play with then we do. I was going to say that she's a lesbian and I'm not but I agree with Bing on this one thing. I think she's pretty much a straight girl who likes to experiment. Bing has said that from day one. She and Bing argue a lot, Kim and I don't. Bing would get on the floor and bark like a dog if she asked her to and Kim wouldn't. She's funny and I'm not.
I suppose I should answer those questions like Patrice and Tinton did. 3 things I love about Maria are that she doesn't let me kick my own ass, she has a dirty mind but looks as innocent as Ingrid Bergman, and she's the person that I could call at 2 am and it would be ok.
A favorite memory I have of her? I have so many. One of my favorites is the time that we went to the movies right after my sister died and she said that she hoped that I didn't feel like I could hog the popcorn just because my sister died. It sounds callous but you had to be there. Everyone was acting super sugary sweet and solicitous but M made me feel like I was going to be ok and that one day things would be normal again.
I'm trying to think of 3 things that would surprise you about M but I can't come up with any one thing.
I'm going to stop here because my hands are tired and this blog writing is harder than it looks. I read her blog all the time and I agree with Tinton. She's more cool natured than she sounds. It takes time to get to know her. She doesn't let people in easily. She comes across as snotty like I said but she isn't. She's just very careful.
I'm crazy about her even if she snorts when she laughs.
So now you know something about her that might surprise you!
I don't care if the pee butt blog stalker (M's words, and so fitting!) comes after me. I'd love to give her a piece of my mind.
M and I call each other Thing One and Thing Two. We've been doing this since we met at our children's school. Her daughter was in first grade and mine was in preschool. Since that Montessori school was big on sweat equity, we both ended up volunteering to do the preschool/kindergarten lunch each day. M was still only working part time doing her jury consulting and I was a stay at home Mommy to my son who was in 2nd grade and my daughter who was a pre-schooler.
I didn't like M at first. I thought she was snotty. After we got to know each other, I realized that she wasn't snotty at all just very quiet and reticent. If any of you meet her you will see immediately what I mean. It takes a lot to get her to open up but once she does, you know that your in her circle and not many people are in there.
She's also very sentimental and kind hearted. She hides it like this is something bad and I don't know why.
My sister died a few years ago and since her husband is a douche bag, I got her two children to raise. I wasn't glad at first but now I am. They are now like my own. I also had another baby not too long ago, so my husband, Kim and I are the parents of five children now ranging in age from a toddler to a just turned 13 year old. We couldn't afford to keep all the kids in Montessori so we moved to West O and put them all in public school. I hate living in West O. M and I used to joke that we got nosebleeds if we went past 72nd St but it was the only place that we could find a house in our budget, so we're there with all the white people now.
M and I look like Mutt and Jeff. I'm almost 6 feet tall and she's a midget. I apologize for not using the word "little people" but M is dinky. I'm almost 9 years younger than she is and will never let her forget that. She's prettier but I'm healthier! I feel like a giantess when we go out.
I love M as much as I can love another woman without sleeping with her. She's a good friend and we compliment each other. I'm good at math, she sucks at it. She's quiet and I've got a big mouth. She and Bing have money and Kim and I don't. They aren't rich and we aren't poor but they have much more dough to play with then we do. I was going to say that she's a lesbian and I'm not but I agree with Bing on this one thing. I think she's pretty much a straight girl who likes to experiment. Bing has said that from day one. She and Bing argue a lot, Kim and I don't. Bing would get on the floor and bark like a dog if she asked her to and Kim wouldn't. She's funny and I'm not.
I suppose I should answer those questions like Patrice and Tinton did. 3 things I love about Maria are that she doesn't let me kick my own ass, she has a dirty mind but looks as innocent as Ingrid Bergman, and she's the person that I could call at 2 am and it would be ok.
A favorite memory I have of her? I have so many. One of my favorites is the time that we went to the movies right after my sister died and she said that she hoped that I didn't feel like I could hog the popcorn just because my sister died. It sounds callous but you had to be there. Everyone was acting super sugary sweet and solicitous but M made me feel like I was going to be ok and that one day things would be normal again.
I'm trying to think of 3 things that would surprise you about M but I can't come up with any one thing.
I'm going to stop here because my hands are tired and this blog writing is harder than it looks. I read her blog all the time and I agree with Tinton. She's more cool natured than she sounds. It takes time to get to know her. She doesn't let people in easily. She comes across as snotty like I said but she isn't. She's just very careful.
I'm crazy about her even if she snorts when she laughs.
So now you know something about her that might surprise you!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
It sucks the big one
I am getting really, really sick of being in this body.
I have been thinking about reincarnation lately. All I can say is that I must have done something really wrong in a previous life to deserve this body.
The rheumatoid arthritis flareup is finally clearing up. I am now, happily, able to say that I have hands instead of baseball mitts. And I am walking now instead of lurching around like Quasimodo.
So, all that is left is the Meniere's syndrome. It is MUCH better than it was. I had near constant vertigo for a few days, but now I am okay as long as I don't turn my head quickly or bend over.
But, truly...I would love to trade this body in for a new one. I think that it should be an option. That every 7 years, we should be able to be like the tin man or the scarecrow when they went to the emerald city, we should be able to get new hearts, brains, hands, feet, immune systems, bones, whatever.
Liv and Tinton are in NYC, left yesterday. Tinton called to say that Liv fell asleep on the floor of their hotel room, looking out on Times Square.
"She looks like an angel, Maria. All curled up with her hands close to her chest. I was gonna take a photo of her to show you, but it seemed intrusive.."
Bing left for Washington, DC this morning. She is chaperoning a group of ten senior boys to a percussion seminar and they will do some sightseeing as well. She actually thinks this is fun. I don't see it.
So, it's just me and Socks for a week. And, frankly, I am good with it. It feels good to be able to be myself and not act like I am just fine when I don't feel just fine. I am doing well enough to work too, so I can just go to work and come home and veg out. I need to get to my garden. Tinton and Liv weeded for me last week but I am particular and need to check to make sure that they did a good job.
Last night, I think I had some insight into myself. I was laying on my back, careful not to move my head too much for fear of causing a vertigo session. Bing lay next to me, her hand gently stroking my arm. She was careful not to move around too much either, since any sudden movement could set the Meniere's off too. She would move to the guest room later, but for now, we were talking, catching up.
I told her, tearfully to my surprise, that I was just so sick of being sick, of getting old. I said that I could feel Liv growing away from me and while it was sort of freeing, it was also sort of terrible.
"In a year or so, she will go through that teenage phase that everyone tells me is coming," I told her. "She will find it embarrassing to be seen with me. Already she is keeping more and more to herself. I hate the thought that all of that closeness we have will disappear. That I will become someone whom she doesn't like all that much, doesn't trust."
Bing didn't answer. She didn't have to. She deals with teenagers all day long, she knows exactly what I am getting at.
But, this thought almost kills me, you know? When Liv was a baby, we were so intensely close. I knew her every thought, every move, every emotion. Now, it gets less and less difficult for her to leave me. This is as it should be, I KNOW this. Part of my job as her parent is to let her go. But no one told me that it would be this hard! Even now, when I go into her bedroom to say goodnight, she doesn't reach for me...I reach for her. She has never been afraid to speak her mind to me but now I sense her trying to disengage from me, my opinions. And this sounds crazy, I know it, but I worry that she might turn into a little snotty ass Republican just to be consciously different from me. Or that she will suddenly want to join a church and ask me if I am saved or something, just to be apart from me, different.
I get it. I do. I remember being about 13 when I suddenly started to view my mother as pretty fucking stupid. I remember inwardly laughing at her ridiculous views about virginity and what she called the golden rule. And I remember listening to her grieving when Richard Nixon resigned at the end of the Watergate scandal, saying what a good, decent, god-loving man he was and how those crazy Democrats were behind all of this set-up. I was in high school and I remember being incredulous at her sheer stupidity, in my eyes. I never said a word out loud to her, I was raised to NEVER, EVER say or do anything resembling back talk to my mother and she would have seen this as total back talk. But, I looked at her and thought to myself that I would NEVER be like her. Never. How much of this was my need to separate from her and my own views?
Already Liv is talking about wanting to be a world traveler when she is older. This should make me happy, shouldn't it? For years, I have told her that she needs to get out in the world and be a part of it. Now, of course, as it gets closer....well, I think I would be okay with her marrying some local boy and living next door to me. Not really. But the thought of her living in Tokyo or Mexico or Italy makes me feel so sad. I want her where I can touch her hair, listen to her voice, hug her.
This mothering shit is so hard. Isn't it?
When I try to explain this to Bing, she doesn't really understand, I can tell. She just tells that yes, Liv will work hard, probably too hard, to separate from me but that she will be back, that they always come back. And that Liv and I are too close for her not to come back. That she will need to rebel, test me, but that Liv, being Liv, will never hurt me irrevocably.
So why am I picturing her in some belly baring tee shirt, with a piercing in her naval, sitting on the back of some motorcycle, holding on to a boy with too many tattoos and not wearing a helmit?
Or almost worse, proudly handing out pamphlets for some conservative, right wing Republic candidate and going to Young Republican meetings and asking me to go to mass with her every Sunday? And maybe inviting her new boyfriend to dinner and he will tell me that Rush Limbaugh is his hero and would I like to join them in picketing that abortion clinic tonight?
I just feel her leaving me and the desire to hold on to her tightly is almost unfightable. But, I will open my arms wide. Not because I want to but because I know it is the best thing for her.
I also tried to tell Bing how much I worry that she will stop loving me. When I said this, she looked at me in disbelief?
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? she said to me. I can't believe this. My whole life has been about first waiting for you and then praying for you to stay and not decide to leave me and now you are worried about ME leaving?
Well, yes.
I mean no. I'm not kidding her. I see what is happening. I am getting old and infirm and she is aging too, but she is still in such incredible shape. Why not? Why not find some younger, more nubile woman who can go biking with her, go on long distance runs? I can't really travel with her much. Long distance plane trips are hard on my joints, they tend to swell and the meds I have to take give me those debilitating migraines. And okay, I am no longer hot looking. I'm tepid looking, I suppose.
She laughed at this and gently cuddled me closer. Told me that she wasn't going anywhere, well not forever. That yes, she now is intent on traveling. That one day she woke up and realized that she was in her 50's now and would not be able to do world travel for much longer, so yes, she started applying for Fulbrights and grants to take her to other countries.
"I admit that I now have wanderlust," she said. "But, Maria, I always want to come home to you. You're my baby, my sweet ass gal."
She held up my hand, still a little gnarled and twisted from the recent RA flare up. "I have loved this hand since the first day I saw it on your very hot, very nubile 18 year old self," she said. "And now, I love it even more. I see your wrinkles and I could care less. I love you and that has nothing to do with your outside cover. I love your beautiful mind, your smart ass mouth and okay, I am not crazy about your stubborn opinions or the way that you are incapable of parking a car straight in the garage, but I am NUTS about you and that will never change. Ever."
Well, I felt a bit better about things then.
But, I still wish that I could give her more, you know? She does so much for me. She makes sure that my car is always filled with gas. She does most of the cooking. She takes care of the lawn, knows when the cars need to have the oil changed or the tire pressure checked. She makes love to me with such tenderness and gentleness when I am going through a rough physical patch and so fiercely when I am doing well. When we are on a busy street, she always puts herself between me and the traffic. She opens doors for me, carries the groceries in if she is home and okay...
She also hogs the remote, steals all the blankets, refuses to throw anything away, has a weird obsession about keeping faucets shining, is too strict about letting the dog have people food, is kind of a cheap skate and refuses to sit through what she calls artsy fartsy girl movies or poetry readings of any kind.
But, I have changed from the pot who didn't want a lid. I am now....domesticated. I feel like Henry Higgins singing about growing accustomed to Eliza Doolittle's face. Now, I find myself turning into a fat house cat who likes being fed from that pretty little bowl and and having all that adoring attention.
Who'd have figured? Me? Yes, me.
I like seeing her face at the end of my day even if it means that I have to have the television or the stereo on constantly. I like knowing that I can call her anytime during the day and she will answer her phone with, "Hi, sugar foot, how's thangs?"
I'm sugar foot and thangs are good. With you here.
But, I just wish that I could give her my 20 something self, the self with the great bod and the unflagging energy. She deserves it. She waited for me for so long and I am astoundingly dimwitted, so it took over 40 decades for me to know that she was the one whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I hate that during my good health years, I was wasting time being an overachiever with a penchant for never letting anyone have my heart. And she was there all the time, biding her time, waiting for me to see her face. What the hell was wrong with me?
Oh well...too tired to contemplate now. Just writing this blog has made me want a nap! So, now my daughter is in NYC and my wife is in D.C. and here I am sitting with the dog resting his nose on my foot and looking up balefully at me now and then to remind me that he'd like an afternoon walk.
Harriet is coming over later to bring me some homemade chicken tortilla soup and to watch the opener of True Blood. And I want to have the energy to do what we always do: dance slinkily to the opening song of that wonderfully violent, brilliantly acted show. She might write something for the blog and I think it might be pretty good since she called me this morning to say that Tinton's piece was "stiff" and that Patrice's piece was "just like her....nose in the air all the way"....
So, I challenged her to do one better and her response was that she could do it with one hand behind her back.
We'll see....tell me what you think, yes?
P.S. Thanks, Madame B, for alerting me to Patrice's indiscretion with a certain name...I fixed it!
I have been thinking about reincarnation lately. All I can say is that I must have done something really wrong in a previous life to deserve this body.
The rheumatoid arthritis flareup is finally clearing up. I am now, happily, able to say that I have hands instead of baseball mitts. And I am walking now instead of lurching around like Quasimodo.
So, all that is left is the Meniere's syndrome. It is MUCH better than it was. I had near constant vertigo for a few days, but now I am okay as long as I don't turn my head quickly or bend over.
But, truly...I would love to trade this body in for a new one. I think that it should be an option. That every 7 years, we should be able to be like the tin man or the scarecrow when they went to the emerald city, we should be able to get new hearts, brains, hands, feet, immune systems, bones, whatever.
Liv and Tinton are in NYC, left yesterday. Tinton called to say that Liv fell asleep on the floor of their hotel room, looking out on Times Square.
"She looks like an angel, Maria. All curled up with her hands close to her chest. I was gonna take a photo of her to show you, but it seemed intrusive.."
Bing left for Washington, DC this morning. She is chaperoning a group of ten senior boys to a percussion seminar and they will do some sightseeing as well. She actually thinks this is fun. I don't see it.
So, it's just me and Socks for a week. And, frankly, I am good with it. It feels good to be able to be myself and not act like I am just fine when I don't feel just fine. I am doing well enough to work too, so I can just go to work and come home and veg out. I need to get to my garden. Tinton and Liv weeded for me last week but I am particular and need to check to make sure that they did a good job.
Last night, I think I had some insight into myself. I was laying on my back, careful not to move my head too much for fear of causing a vertigo session. Bing lay next to me, her hand gently stroking my arm. She was careful not to move around too much either, since any sudden movement could set the Meniere's off too. She would move to the guest room later, but for now, we were talking, catching up.
I told her, tearfully to my surprise, that I was just so sick of being sick, of getting old. I said that I could feel Liv growing away from me and while it was sort of freeing, it was also sort of terrible.
"In a year or so, she will go through that teenage phase that everyone tells me is coming," I told her. "She will find it embarrassing to be seen with me. Already she is keeping more and more to herself. I hate the thought that all of that closeness we have will disappear. That I will become someone whom she doesn't like all that much, doesn't trust."
Bing didn't answer. She didn't have to. She deals with teenagers all day long, she knows exactly what I am getting at.
But, this thought almost kills me, you know? When Liv was a baby, we were so intensely close. I knew her every thought, every move, every emotion. Now, it gets less and less difficult for her to leave me. This is as it should be, I KNOW this. Part of my job as her parent is to let her go. But no one told me that it would be this hard! Even now, when I go into her bedroom to say goodnight, she doesn't reach for me...I reach for her. She has never been afraid to speak her mind to me but now I sense her trying to disengage from me, my opinions. And this sounds crazy, I know it, but I worry that she might turn into a little snotty ass Republican just to be consciously different from me. Or that she will suddenly want to join a church and ask me if I am saved or something, just to be apart from me, different.
I get it. I do. I remember being about 13 when I suddenly started to view my mother as pretty fucking stupid. I remember inwardly laughing at her ridiculous views about virginity and what she called the golden rule. And I remember listening to her grieving when Richard Nixon resigned at the end of the Watergate scandal, saying what a good, decent, god-loving man he was and how those crazy Democrats were behind all of this set-up. I was in high school and I remember being incredulous at her sheer stupidity, in my eyes. I never said a word out loud to her, I was raised to NEVER, EVER say or do anything resembling back talk to my mother and she would have seen this as total back talk. But, I looked at her and thought to myself that I would NEVER be like her. Never. How much of this was my need to separate from her and my own views?
Already Liv is talking about wanting to be a world traveler when she is older. This should make me happy, shouldn't it? For years, I have told her that she needs to get out in the world and be a part of it. Now, of course, as it gets closer....well, I think I would be okay with her marrying some local boy and living next door to me. Not really. But the thought of her living in Tokyo or Mexico or Italy makes me feel so sad. I want her where I can touch her hair, listen to her voice, hug her.
This mothering shit is so hard. Isn't it?
When I try to explain this to Bing, she doesn't really understand, I can tell. She just tells that yes, Liv will work hard, probably too hard, to separate from me but that she will be back, that they always come back. And that Liv and I are too close for her not to come back. That she will need to rebel, test me, but that Liv, being Liv, will never hurt me irrevocably.
So why am I picturing her in some belly baring tee shirt, with a piercing in her naval, sitting on the back of some motorcycle, holding on to a boy with too many tattoos and not wearing a helmit?
Or almost worse, proudly handing out pamphlets for some conservative, right wing Republic candidate and going to Young Republican meetings and asking me to go to mass with her every Sunday? And maybe inviting her new boyfriend to dinner and he will tell me that Rush Limbaugh is his hero and would I like to join them in picketing that abortion clinic tonight?
I just feel her leaving me and the desire to hold on to her tightly is almost unfightable. But, I will open my arms wide. Not because I want to but because I know it is the best thing for her.
I also tried to tell Bing how much I worry that she will stop loving me. When I said this, she looked at me in disbelief?
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? she said to me. I can't believe this. My whole life has been about first waiting for you and then praying for you to stay and not decide to leave me and now you are worried about ME leaving?
Well, yes.
I mean no. I'm not kidding her. I see what is happening. I am getting old and infirm and she is aging too, but she is still in such incredible shape. Why not? Why not find some younger, more nubile woman who can go biking with her, go on long distance runs? I can't really travel with her much. Long distance plane trips are hard on my joints, they tend to swell and the meds I have to take give me those debilitating migraines. And okay, I am no longer hot looking. I'm tepid looking, I suppose.
She laughed at this and gently cuddled me closer. Told me that she wasn't going anywhere, well not forever. That yes, she now is intent on traveling. That one day she woke up and realized that she was in her 50's now and would not be able to do world travel for much longer, so yes, she started applying for Fulbrights and grants to take her to other countries.
"I admit that I now have wanderlust," she said. "But, Maria, I always want to come home to you. You're my baby, my sweet ass gal."
She held up my hand, still a little gnarled and twisted from the recent RA flare up. "I have loved this hand since the first day I saw it on your very hot, very nubile 18 year old self," she said. "And now, I love it even more. I see your wrinkles and I could care less. I love you and that has nothing to do with your outside cover. I love your beautiful mind, your smart ass mouth and okay, I am not crazy about your stubborn opinions or the way that you are incapable of parking a car straight in the garage, but I am NUTS about you and that will never change. Ever."
Well, I felt a bit better about things then.
But, I still wish that I could give her more, you know? She does so much for me. She makes sure that my car is always filled with gas. She does most of the cooking. She takes care of the lawn, knows when the cars need to have the oil changed or the tire pressure checked. She makes love to me with such tenderness and gentleness when I am going through a rough physical patch and so fiercely when I am doing well. When we are on a busy street, she always puts herself between me and the traffic. She opens doors for me, carries the groceries in if she is home and okay...
She also hogs the remote, steals all the blankets, refuses to throw anything away, has a weird obsession about keeping faucets shining, is too strict about letting the dog have people food, is kind of a cheap skate and refuses to sit through what she calls artsy fartsy girl movies or poetry readings of any kind.
But, I have changed from the pot who didn't want a lid. I am now....domesticated. I feel like Henry Higgins singing about growing accustomed to Eliza Doolittle's face. Now, I find myself turning into a fat house cat who likes being fed from that pretty little bowl and and having all that adoring attention.
Who'd have figured? Me? Yes, me.
I like seeing her face at the end of my day even if it means that I have to have the television or the stereo on constantly. I like knowing that I can call her anytime during the day and she will answer her phone with, "Hi, sugar foot, how's thangs?"
I'm sugar foot and thangs are good. With you here.
But, I just wish that I could give her my 20 something self, the self with the great bod and the unflagging energy. She deserves it. She waited for me for so long and I am astoundingly dimwitted, so it took over 40 decades for me to know that she was the one whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I hate that during my good health years, I was wasting time being an overachiever with a penchant for never letting anyone have my heart. And she was there all the time, biding her time, waiting for me to see her face. What the hell was wrong with me?
Oh well...too tired to contemplate now. Just writing this blog has made me want a nap! So, now my daughter is in NYC and my wife is in D.C. and here I am sitting with the dog resting his nose on my foot and looking up balefully at me now and then to remind me that he'd like an afternoon walk.
Harriet is coming over later to bring me some homemade chicken tortilla soup and to watch the opener of True Blood. And I want to have the energy to do what we always do: dance slinkily to the opening song of that wonderfully violent, brilliantly acted show. She might write something for the blog and I think it might be pretty good since she called me this morning to say that Tinton's piece was "stiff" and that Patrice's piece was "just like her....nose in the air all the way"....
So, I challenged her to do one better and her response was that she could do it with one hand behind her back.
We'll see....tell me what you think, yes?
P.S. Thanks, Madame B, for alerting me to Patrice's indiscretion with a certain name...I fixed it!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Patrice
This may shock y'all but my name isn't Patrice. It's my middle name. Maria tends to do that. She uses middle names for most of us. Maria isn't Maria either but her middle name is Maria. She's uber careful becos of her family's experience with the psycho blog stalker from Oregon who actually went to the trouble to get the blueprints of her house. How sick is that? I tell her all the time that if someone wants to find her, they will. They'd have to get past Bing first and no her name is not Bing nor is it her middle name that I know of. Bing works out like a ninja. I think she could kick some Oregon butt.
I'm Maria's eldest sister. Then comes Celia and then Maria. Jessie is last and she is WAY younger than the rest of us. She was the accident. But a happy accident.
I've been married since I was 18 to the same man. I can't remember what Maria named him so I will just use his middle name. Bob. He's a retired cop and I'm a retired nurse. We've 2 sons and a mentally retarded daughter. Amelia is her middle name. She and Maria are close. We keep busy with the grandkids and I volunteer at a local hospital and sit with cancer patients so that their caretakers can go out and do chores. When our Mother was dying, I was her main caregiver and the hospice workers were great, so I'm giving back.
I was very close to our Mother and while I'm sorry that she and Maria never got along, it doesn't change the fact that I loved her with my whole heart. Someone asked why I let my Mother disinherit Maria. What I can tell you is that you didn't know Mother. She was very set in her ways, very bossy, very overpowering and very domineering. She was also very generous and devoted to our church. We, all of us except Maria, are Catholic. I couldn't have stopped her and I didn't try.
What can I say? It was a long time ago and we thought differently about gays then. I admit that I was ashamed to have a gay sister or I guess she calls herself a bisexual. Plus, Maria and Mother were always arguing after our Da died. If Maria said blue, Mother said green and vice versa. We sisters begged Maria to just go ahead and be gay if she had to but DON'T TELL MOTHER. She refused. She made that bed. Our Mother chose to disinherit her but I do know that she never ever stopped praying for Maria. After Mother got cancer and it was clear that she was not long for this world, the PRIEST convinced her to see Maria one last time. By that time none of us but Celia had been in touch with Maria for over a decade. Celia knew her address and phone number so we called her and hoped for a reconciliation. It wasn't to be. They were both still stubborn and neither gave an inch.
I do remember the day that Maria came to see our Mother. She called Celia when she got outside of the small Iowa town that we grew up in. When Celia got off the phone she said: Maria says she's here and she feels like Boo Radley. Isn't that just like our Maria?
Well, I thought to myself that yes it was just like her. Maria was always reading and frankly she does tend to think that she is smarter than the rest of us. And I might not have an md after my name but I did read To Kill a Mockingbird. Anyway Maria came up to the house and the first thing I noticed was that she was getting gray! But she still looked pretty. Mother always said that Maria was her prettiest baby and she was the prettiest of us as teens. Now, I think that Jessie is the prettiest out of all of us but keep in mind that she is over 10 yrs younger than Maria who's the youngest of the rest of us. The meeting didn't go well. I think that Mother thought that Maria was going to beg for her forgiveness and she was crazy if she thought that. Two hard headed women. More alike than different but neither would admit that.
After Mother died and left nothing to Maria and since Celia refused to stop seeing her, not much to her, she left the bulk of her estate to Jessie and me. And no I don't feel guilty for not sharing. Maria would be the first person to tell you that a person has a right to do whatever they want with their own money. When Maria dies, all of her money is going to Liv and Bing. And that is as it should be. Just as it was as it should be with our Mother's money. Besides Maria has done well for herself.
Someone asked what we sisters look like. We all look alike but not in looks. I know that doesn't make sense but everyone says that we all have the same laugh, the same way of talking and the same mannerisms. We all have witches chins too. Very pointed chins. It's from our Da's side of the family. I've almost black hair that has never gone gray, knock on wood. Celia has golden blonde hair and no one knows where she gets it but Liv has that exact same color. Maria went gray really young but she dyed her hair brown until recently. Jessie has our Mother's beautiful auburn hair and she also has our Da's crystal clear light blue eyes. The rest of us have sort of bluish hazel eyes. I am the only one in the family with a bust. The rest of the sisters are flat as boards, especially Jessie who's a cancer survivor and had a mastectomy so hasn't a chest! We're all short. I'm the shortest. I'm 4'11. Celia and Maria are about 5 ft even and Jessie is 5'2.
3 things that I love about Maria are 1) She's funny and I don't mean like she tells a good joke. She's sort of sarcastic and bitchy but in a funny way. 2) She's a good Mother to Liv. 3) She doesn't give a fig what anyone thinks. She's A LOT like Mother that way.
My favorite memories of Maria are of when we were young. I'm 8 years older than she is and when she was little it was my job to braid her hair in a a long braid down her back every day. She had hair down to her waist as a child, so this was a task let me tell you. But she would tell me stories as I braided and I am not kidding she was such a good storyteller even as a little girl! Our Da used to say that Maria lived in her own world and he wished that he could live there too. We all did I think. And one thing that never changes about her is that she has a fairy quality of being able to see into people's souls. She and I will be sitting at dinner and I will be blue about something and she'll just know and pry all the details out of me. She'll then make me laugh. Or she'll find a way to help me fix what is bothering me. Our Da used to call her Sidhe machree which means something like fairy of our heart. I love it that she is a good listener and she has kindness even though she acts like she doesn't. She's my sister and we're much closer now than we ever were. I've grown to appreciate her and love her for who she is. I think she feels the same about me. We do argue about politics and I won't be starting in about how unrealistic it is of her to think that we should all have free health care or why she supports a man who is helping our country go bankrupt. She can get on her soap box and so can I so we try not to talk about politics if we can help it.
Things I have in common with Maria: 1) Our Irish heritage 2) Our devotion to our kids and 3) We are both bad drivers. I admit that I'm a bad driver, she won't admit that she is.
Something that might surprise you about Maria is that she's vain about growing older. She has so many creams for her face and she still dresses like she's in her 20s or 30s. Something else is that I think she enjoys being the black sheep of our family. She likes being the only one of us who has ever taken drugs. She likes saying shocking things at the dinner table just to get a rise out of us. I think that she's good for us in a way. She keeps us thinking. Every family needs one of her.
I love my little sister. I love all of my sisters. I'm the eldest in the family and it has always been my job to look out for the younger ones. I've tried to do that and if it comes off as bossy, well I apologize.
I guess that's all folks! I should say that Maria is having a hard day because Liv left with Tinton today to go to NYC and she keeps saying that she's fine but she cries in the bathroom. She started crying in the bathroom when our Da died and now that's where she goes when she cries. So, maybe you could all send her happy thoughts.
This has been fun and Maria told me to just press the publish post button when I'm done and she won't change anything. I do read her blog sometimes but not a lot. I'm just too busy and she tells me everything that's new on the phone when I call so I don't feel bad about not being a daily reader. I do believe that she's a talented writer though. Maybe she is the smartest out of all of us girls!
I'm Maria's eldest sister. Then comes Celia and then Maria. Jessie is last and she is WAY younger than the rest of us. She was the accident. But a happy accident.
I've been married since I was 18 to the same man. I can't remember what Maria named him so I will just use his middle name. Bob. He's a retired cop and I'm a retired nurse. We've 2 sons and a mentally retarded daughter. Amelia is her middle name. She and Maria are close. We keep busy with the grandkids and I volunteer at a local hospital and sit with cancer patients so that their caretakers can go out and do chores. When our Mother was dying, I was her main caregiver and the hospice workers were great, so I'm giving back.
I was very close to our Mother and while I'm sorry that she and Maria never got along, it doesn't change the fact that I loved her with my whole heart. Someone asked why I let my Mother disinherit Maria. What I can tell you is that you didn't know Mother. She was very set in her ways, very bossy, very overpowering and very domineering. She was also very generous and devoted to our church. We, all of us except Maria, are Catholic. I couldn't have stopped her and I didn't try.
What can I say? It was a long time ago and we thought differently about gays then. I admit that I was ashamed to have a gay sister or I guess she calls herself a bisexual. Plus, Maria and Mother were always arguing after our Da died. If Maria said blue, Mother said green and vice versa. We sisters begged Maria to just go ahead and be gay if she had to but DON'T TELL MOTHER. She refused. She made that bed. Our Mother chose to disinherit her but I do know that she never ever stopped praying for Maria. After Mother got cancer and it was clear that she was not long for this world, the PRIEST convinced her to see Maria one last time. By that time none of us but Celia had been in touch with Maria for over a decade. Celia knew her address and phone number so we called her and hoped for a reconciliation. It wasn't to be. They were both still stubborn and neither gave an inch.
I do remember the day that Maria came to see our Mother. She called Celia when she got outside of the small Iowa town that we grew up in. When Celia got off the phone she said: Maria says she's here and she feels like Boo Radley. Isn't that just like our Maria?
Well, I thought to myself that yes it was just like her. Maria was always reading and frankly she does tend to think that she is smarter than the rest of us. And I might not have an md after my name but I did read To Kill a Mockingbird. Anyway Maria came up to the house and the first thing I noticed was that she was getting gray! But she still looked pretty. Mother always said that Maria was her prettiest baby and she was the prettiest of us as teens. Now, I think that Jessie is the prettiest out of all of us but keep in mind that she is over 10 yrs younger than Maria who's the youngest of the rest of us. The meeting didn't go well. I think that Mother thought that Maria was going to beg for her forgiveness and she was crazy if she thought that. Two hard headed women. More alike than different but neither would admit that.
After Mother died and left nothing to Maria and since Celia refused to stop seeing her, not much to her, she left the bulk of her estate to Jessie and me. And no I don't feel guilty for not sharing. Maria would be the first person to tell you that a person has a right to do whatever they want with their own money. When Maria dies, all of her money is going to Liv and Bing. And that is as it should be. Just as it was as it should be with our Mother's money. Besides Maria has done well for herself.
Someone asked what we sisters look like. We all look alike but not in looks. I know that doesn't make sense but everyone says that we all have the same laugh, the same way of talking and the same mannerisms. We all have witches chins too. Very pointed chins. It's from our Da's side of the family. I've almost black hair that has never gone gray, knock on wood. Celia has golden blonde hair and no one knows where she gets it but Liv has that exact same color. Maria went gray really young but she dyed her hair brown until recently. Jessie has our Mother's beautiful auburn hair and she also has our Da's crystal clear light blue eyes. The rest of us have sort of bluish hazel eyes. I am the only one in the family with a bust. The rest of the sisters are flat as boards, especially Jessie who's a cancer survivor and had a mastectomy so hasn't a chest! We're all short. I'm the shortest. I'm 4'11. Celia and Maria are about 5 ft even and Jessie is 5'2.
3 things that I love about Maria are 1) She's funny and I don't mean like she tells a good joke. She's sort of sarcastic and bitchy but in a funny way. 2) She's a good Mother to Liv. 3) She doesn't give a fig what anyone thinks. She's A LOT like Mother that way.
My favorite memories of Maria are of when we were young. I'm 8 years older than she is and when she was little it was my job to braid her hair in a a long braid down her back every day. She had hair down to her waist as a child, so this was a task let me tell you. But she would tell me stories as I braided and I am not kidding she was such a good storyteller even as a little girl! Our Da used to say that Maria lived in her own world and he wished that he could live there too. We all did I think. And one thing that never changes about her is that she has a fairy quality of being able to see into people's souls. She and I will be sitting at dinner and I will be blue about something and she'll just know and pry all the details out of me. She'll then make me laugh. Or she'll find a way to help me fix what is bothering me. Our Da used to call her Sidhe machree which means something like fairy of our heart. I love it that she is a good listener and she has kindness even though she acts like she doesn't. She's my sister and we're much closer now than we ever were. I've grown to appreciate her and love her for who she is. I think she feels the same about me. We do argue about politics and I won't be starting in about how unrealistic it is of her to think that we should all have free health care or why she supports a man who is helping our country go bankrupt. She can get on her soap box and so can I so we try not to talk about politics if we can help it.
Things I have in common with Maria: 1) Our Irish heritage 2) Our devotion to our kids and 3) We are both bad drivers. I admit that I'm a bad driver, she won't admit that she is.
Something that might surprise you about Maria is that she's vain about growing older. She has so many creams for her face and she still dresses like she's in her 20s or 30s. Something else is that I think she enjoys being the black sheep of our family. She likes being the only one of us who has ever taken drugs. She likes saying shocking things at the dinner table just to get a rise out of us. I think that she's good for us in a way. She keeps us thinking. Every family needs one of her.
I love my little sister. I love all of my sisters. I'm the eldest in the family and it has always been my job to look out for the younger ones. I've tried to do that and if it comes off as bossy, well I apologize.
I guess that's all folks! I should say that Maria is having a hard day because Liv left with Tinton today to go to NYC and she keeps saying that she's fine but she cries in the bathroom. She started crying in the bathroom when our Da died and now that's where she goes when she cries. So, maybe you could all send her happy thoughts.
This has been fun and Maria told me to just press the publish post button when I'm done and she won't change anything. I do read her blog sometimes but not a lot. I'm just too busy and she tells me everything that's new on the phone when I call so I don't feel bad about not being a daily reader. I do believe that she's a talented writer though. Maybe she is the smartest out of all of us girls!
Friday, June 24, 2011
thank you...but I am FINE.
Thanks so much for all the sweet e-mails, but really...I AM FINE. Just a little under the weather. I feel terrible. I must have made it sound as if I were at death's door or something...
Truly, all is well. Bing is home for 2 days and then leaves for 2 weeks to go to Washington, D.C. She is chaperoning a group of teenage percussion students going to a percussion seminar. So, I am SO glad that she didn't rope me into going along with them. Tinton and Liv leave tomorrow for NYC for a week of museum and concert hopping. My sister leaves on Monday for a two week vacay in Minnesota and Harriet and her family leave in early July for a trip to northwest Nebraska to visit her husband's parents on their farm. I think NYC sounds like the most fun.
But, I am actually relieved to be staying home. I feel tired all the time and have been sleeping for 12 hours a night! And wait a moment...don't go thinking I am very sick, because as I said, I AM FINE.
And listen, Missy Lulubelle...I DO NOT think that I look like Stevie Nicks. I think I look more like Meryl Streep. Give me a freakin' break, won't you??? :)
All is well.
Patrice is up next and I've told her to go for it, so be prepared for some blunt honesty. I am bracing myself.....
Truly, all is well. Bing is home for 2 days and then leaves for 2 weeks to go to Washington, D.C. She is chaperoning a group of teenage percussion students going to a percussion seminar. So, I am SO glad that she didn't rope me into going along with them. Tinton and Liv leave tomorrow for NYC for a week of museum and concert hopping. My sister leaves on Monday for a two week vacay in Minnesota and Harriet and her family leave in early July for a trip to northwest Nebraska to visit her husband's parents on their farm. I think NYC sounds like the most fun.
But, I am actually relieved to be staying home. I feel tired all the time and have been sleeping for 12 hours a night! And wait a moment...don't go thinking I am very sick, because as I said, I AM FINE.
And listen, Missy Lulubelle...I DO NOT think that I look like Stevie Nicks. I think I look more like Meryl Streep. Give me a freakin' break, won't you??? :)
All is well.
Patrice is up next and I've told her to go for it, so be prepared for some blunt honesty. I am bracing myself.....
Tinton
My name isn't Tinton. I've no idea why Maria picked that name for me. Maybe it's cos it sort of halfway rhymes with my last name.
A reader asked about my geological studies. I received my BS at the Univ of Nebraska, my MS at the Univ of Utah and my PhD at UCLA. I've published several papers on Hugh Miller and will be traveling to central Mexico in September to work with a geo crew looking into Quaternary-age volcanic vents. This will probably be at least a year of work. My field was mostly specialized in igneous and metamorphic petrology, but as you can see, I have become greatly interested in volcanic ash recently.
The most fun I ever had was several years ago, I believe that Liv was about 6 or 7 when I studied igneous rocks from several Apollo projects. I also have a hobby interest in ore deposits. I'm on a waiting crew to study the dating of lower crustal creep with deformed zircon in South Africa.
Currently, I'm teaching several geology seminars at The Universite de La Reunion in France.
That's probably enough about moi as we say in France.
I'll try to answer the questions I received.
3 things that I love about Maria are: 1) Our daughter and her contribution to that work of wonder. 2) Her laugh which is now Liv's laugh. Bing has a photo of Maria that says it all. She is sitting at her desk wearing her white coat and one bare foot resting on the desktop and her head is thrown back. She's laughing. It's a beautiful representation. 3) Her fairness in letting me play an active father role in our daughter's life. Considering that I signed away all parental rights at the age of 23 she could have made my life miserable and been legally within her rights.
Favorite memory of her: The night we met. There's something true about the Irish stealing your heart away.
Favorite memory of Bing: I don't have one yet. Our relationship is a work in progress.
Favorite memory of Liv: Way too many to name. I suppose all of our funny talks on car rides. Liv's a little scientist and that makes me very proud. She also has a pretty singing voice but she's shy and won't show it much. She can do math in her head better than most.
Favorite memory of Socks: None. I like animals, especially canines but I don't know Socks well and he's only marginally friendly. He's a very loyal dog, though. He's protective of Maria and Liv. He just tolerates Bing. I think that hes somewhat jealous of her. He only shows his belly to Liv or Maria, doesn't trust the rest of us with his vulnerable stomach!
3 things that may surprise you about Maria: I'm confused as to why you think that I know her so well. I believe that only Liv or Bing really know her. She is difficult to know. I do read her blog and I must say that she comes off as much more accessible and open in it. In real life, she is very guarded and doesn't share much. I do know one thing that may surprise you: She's not good with money. I believe that she thinks she is, but she isn't. Bing is the financier in the family. She invests a lot of their money and is very smart about it. Bing and I have suggested many times to Maria to take advantage of her blog market. She has a high voltage of readers from diverse places. She has a contingency of readers from Iceland! She has Mormon readers, Christian readers, Atheist readers. Most of her readers are much like her though, quite liberal. She should take advantage of that and have contests and the like to encourage readers to participate. She could look into publication. She could advertise and actually make money from her blog. But she won't. When we try to talk to her about it, she won't go there. She says the blog is for Liv when she is older, in case she is not around to be with her. She says that she finds ads in blogs to be annoying and tacky. I understand this, but she's foolish not to at least advertise. With her love of high end shoes like Farragamo and expensive beauty creams like La Mer, she could make some money with advertisements.
Three things that I have in common with Maria are: 1) Our daughter. 2) Gardening. 3) A weakness for coffee ice cream.
I have several Maria stories that are worth writing about but I think she'd be angry if I shared them. I'll just say that the night that we met will go down in history as the one and only time that I was bewitched by a woman. She was alot older than me and I fell like a load of bricks. I think it was an Irish spell!
Mme B asked if I plan to marry and how that will concern Liv. I've no plans. I'm in a long term relationship with a wonderful woman who is understanding of my constant traveling. I never saw myself as a family man and thats why I took so long to come around to parenting Liv. Now that I'm firmly entrenched in the business of fathering Liv as best I can from afar, I vow that I'll do what is best for her at all times. Liv's the perfect gift that I never knew that I needed until I met her.
And Mme Benault, may I say that I miss reading your blog? I'm not a blog reader, except for Maria's but I enjoyed yours and also a blog by a man named Dive, which I still read from time to time. I think that British and Australian humor/insight is much more to the mark than ours.
Maria is fine. Bing babies her. She rubs her feet and brings coffee and tea. Liv and I'll be leaving for NYC soon so she won't have to worry about her. She does tend to worry about Liv. I tell her this is foolish and it is. Liv is one of the happiest people I know.
The end!
A reader asked about my geological studies. I received my BS at the Univ of Nebraska, my MS at the Univ of Utah and my PhD at UCLA. I've published several papers on Hugh Miller and will be traveling to central Mexico in September to work with a geo crew looking into Quaternary-age volcanic vents. This will probably be at least a year of work. My field was mostly specialized in igneous and metamorphic petrology, but as you can see, I have become greatly interested in volcanic ash recently.
The most fun I ever had was several years ago, I believe that Liv was about 6 or 7 when I studied igneous rocks from several Apollo projects. I also have a hobby interest in ore deposits. I'm on a waiting crew to study the dating of lower crustal creep with deformed zircon in South Africa.
Currently, I'm teaching several geology seminars at The Universite de La Reunion in France.
That's probably enough about moi as we say in France.
I'll try to answer the questions I received.
3 things that I love about Maria are: 1) Our daughter and her contribution to that work of wonder. 2) Her laugh which is now Liv's laugh. Bing has a photo of Maria that says it all. She is sitting at her desk wearing her white coat and one bare foot resting on the desktop and her head is thrown back. She's laughing. It's a beautiful representation. 3) Her fairness in letting me play an active father role in our daughter's life. Considering that I signed away all parental rights at the age of 23 she could have made my life miserable and been legally within her rights.
Favorite memory of her: The night we met. There's something true about the Irish stealing your heart away.
Favorite memory of Bing: I don't have one yet. Our relationship is a work in progress.
Favorite memory of Liv: Way too many to name. I suppose all of our funny talks on car rides. Liv's a little scientist and that makes me very proud. She also has a pretty singing voice but she's shy and won't show it much. She can do math in her head better than most.
Favorite memory of Socks: None. I like animals, especially canines but I don't know Socks well and he's only marginally friendly. He's a very loyal dog, though. He's protective of Maria and Liv. He just tolerates Bing. I think that hes somewhat jealous of her. He only shows his belly to Liv or Maria, doesn't trust the rest of us with his vulnerable stomach!
3 things that may surprise you about Maria: I'm confused as to why you think that I know her so well. I believe that only Liv or Bing really know her. She is difficult to know. I do read her blog and I must say that she comes off as much more accessible and open in it. In real life, she is very guarded and doesn't share much. I do know one thing that may surprise you: She's not good with money. I believe that she thinks she is, but she isn't. Bing is the financier in the family. She invests a lot of their money and is very smart about it. Bing and I have suggested many times to Maria to take advantage of her blog market. She has a high voltage of readers from diverse places. She has a contingency of readers from Iceland! She has Mormon readers, Christian readers, Atheist readers. Most of her readers are much like her though, quite liberal. She should take advantage of that and have contests and the like to encourage readers to participate. She could look into publication. She could advertise and actually make money from her blog. But she won't. When we try to talk to her about it, she won't go there. She says the blog is for Liv when she is older, in case she is not around to be with her. She says that she finds ads in blogs to be annoying and tacky. I understand this, but she's foolish not to at least advertise. With her love of high end shoes like Farragamo and expensive beauty creams like La Mer, she could make some money with advertisements.
Three things that I have in common with Maria are: 1) Our daughter. 2) Gardening. 3) A weakness for coffee ice cream.
I have several Maria stories that are worth writing about but I think she'd be angry if I shared them. I'll just say that the night that we met will go down in history as the one and only time that I was bewitched by a woman. She was alot older than me and I fell like a load of bricks. I think it was an Irish spell!
Mme B asked if I plan to marry and how that will concern Liv. I've no plans. I'm in a long term relationship with a wonderful woman who is understanding of my constant traveling. I never saw myself as a family man and thats why I took so long to come around to parenting Liv. Now that I'm firmly entrenched in the business of fathering Liv as best I can from afar, I vow that I'll do what is best for her at all times. Liv's the perfect gift that I never knew that I needed until I met her.
And Mme Benault, may I say that I miss reading your blog? I'm not a blog reader, except for Maria's but I enjoyed yours and also a blog by a man named Dive, which I still read from time to time. I think that British and Australian humor/insight is much more to the mark than ours.
Maria is fine. Bing babies her. She rubs her feet and brings coffee and tea. Liv and I'll be leaving for NYC soon so she won't have to worry about her. She does tend to worry about Liv. I tell her this is foolish and it is. Liv is one of the happiest people I know.
The end!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Guest artists at Maria's place!
Hey, dudes...all is okay. Sorry if I made things sound more dire than they are. I'm just having a bout of meniere's syndrome coupled with RA flare up....makes for a freakishly bride of Frankenstein Maria.
Luckily, Tinton is here. He and Liv are leaving for New York on Sunday to spend a week there, taking in museums and concerts. So..he is keeping Liv busy and took her to her swim meet tonight.
Harriet stopped over too (bff) and my sister Patrice is here until she leaves for Minnesota on vacation on Sunday.
We were all talking and I mentioned that I just couldn't keep up with blog writing, too fatigued after making it through work every day. To my surprise, they all offered to "guest write" my blog. So...I think Tinton is already working on his blog piece and Patrice said that she would come over on Saturday to do hers. Harriet will come over early next week and do hers. So...they asked me what to write about. Any questions for them? I said I would ask...
Have a good week, y'all. And really, I'm fine. No worries, just really, really tired. But, Liv is cared for and next week she will be gone, so I can just hang when I get home and will probably be back to the blog.
So...any burning questions for Liv's father, my sister or my bff? They said that they will take on any and all....
Go for it. No question is out of limits.
Luckily, Tinton is here. He and Liv are leaving for New York on Sunday to spend a week there, taking in museums and concerts. So..he is keeping Liv busy and took her to her swim meet tonight.
Harriet stopped over too (bff) and my sister Patrice is here until she leaves for Minnesota on vacation on Sunday.
We were all talking and I mentioned that I just couldn't keep up with blog writing, too fatigued after making it through work every day. To my surprise, they all offered to "guest write" my blog. So...I think Tinton is already working on his blog piece and Patrice said that she would come over on Saturday to do hers. Harriet will come over early next week and do hers. So...they asked me what to write about. Any questions for them? I said I would ask...
Have a good week, y'all. And really, I'm fine. No worries, just really, really tired. But, Liv is cared for and next week she will be gone, so I can just hang when I get home and will probably be back to the blog.
So...any burning questions for Liv's father, my sister or my bff? They said that they will take on any and all....
Go for it. No question is out of limits.
Monday, June 20, 2011
taking a break
Feeling pretty shitty....
everything is acting up all at once...time for a break....
later
everything is acting up all at once...time for a break....
later
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Get over yourself
My first meeting was with the health and human services worker. She is no-nonsense, the way that they all seem to be after a while. I guess it comes with the job. You just can't hear all the terrible stories and witness all the terrible events and not have to find a coping mechanism in order to continue to do your job. She sits across from me and opens her notebook. Her voice is monotone.
Victim is a 4 years and 1 month old Caucasian male. This worker went to the home to make an unscheduled visit at 8:45 p.m. Door was ajar, so worker walked in, calling for residents. They were sitting and watching the television. They were unprepared for a visit. House was not clean, evidence of drug paraphernalia in ashtrays, ie a roach clip and a small baggie of what looked to be marijuana. Rolling papers. Residents jumped up and Mary Smith, the victim's mother walked quickly to the kitchen. This worker followed her and was witness to her opening a small cupboard door under the sink. The victim crawled out, wearing only underpants and squinting against the kitchen lights. Mary Smith reported that the child was being punished for an infraction. Worker knelt down to talk to victim, but he was unresponsive, looking at the floor at all times. When worker asked Mary Smith what the infraction was, she stated that the child had "peed his pants." The kitchen was in bad squalor, worker witnessed a large rat behind a garbage can. Worker made the decision to remove the child from the premises and to call police to report drug paraphernalia, although all evidence of drugs had been removed when she returned to the living room. Worker informed the residents that the victim would be removed at this time. They did not comment. Worker requested that the victim be dressed and went with Mary Smith to observe dressing of victim. Mary Smith picked up dirty clothes laying on a bedroom floor and dressed the victim. No words were exchanged between Mary Smith and the victim. Worker noted that at previous visit a bed had been in the room but now there was no trace of it. Worker remitted child to her car where they waited for police to arrive. When police arrived to search house, worker and victim waited in police car for a report to be made. No drugs or drug paraphernalia were found at consequent search. Victim was taken to temporary foster care with Ann Jones of 111 Walnut St. The following Monday, worker visited the foster care placement home and was able to speak to Ann Jones who seemed to have established a workable rapport with victim. Ann Jones reported that victim had stated to her that he slept in the small kitchen cupboard at night "as soon as the blinds were shut." Ann Jones reported that on the first night of victim's stay, she had bathed him and put him in a bed but the child was trembling, so she moved him to the sofa where he fell asleep next to her and she remained with him for the rest of the night. The next day was quiet. Victim ate what he was served and sat quietly; did not talk or play with proffered toys. In the evening when Ann Jones went to shut the blinds at her home, the victim began shivering and crying but still would not speak. After several attempts to comfort victim, he finally was able to tell her that "as soon as the blinds shut, it was go in the cupboard time." Victim also reported that when he struggled or refused to cooperate that he was tied to a wooden hanger and hung upside down in a closet until he promised to be quiet and obey. This worker believes that this child may be in need of psychological assistance at this time and requests an initial meeting with foster parent, who has more to report and then a meeting with victim as soon as possible. Foster parent will accompany victim to medical facility for an overall physical evaluation. Possible speech delays as well.
The next meeting was with Ann Jones, the foster parent. I have learned a great deal regarding the foster care system in the course of my employment at my current job. In my opinion, they come in 4 categories:
1) Foster parent is not doing this for payment. This is a person who truly wishes to help children.
2) Foster parent is doing this for payment, but they are kind and loving to the child.
3) Foster parent is doing this for payment. They are not abusive to child, but there is no real bonding. Foster parent attends to the child's physical needs but no emotional connection is there.
4) Foster parent is doing this for payment. They care only about the money and have no concerns whatsoever for the child. This is the foster parent who will swear up and down that the child in their care is showing symptoms of autism. They will have boned up on the symptoms and sometimes out and out lie about how the child tends to avoid eye contact, wave hands uncontrollably, engages in repetitive behavior and does not seem to understand social behavior. They are savvy in knowing that if the child is diagnosed with autism or any other behaviors in the spectrum, that they will receive more money.
Unfortunately, most foster parents that I have seen fall into either category 3 or 4. There are some exceptions. Ann Jones is one of them. She and her husband have been foster parents for years and have adopted three of the children who came to live with them as foster children. She is quiet voiced, honest and every child who comes into her care is very, very lucky. She is warm and loving, kind and generous spirited.
When I met with Ann to discuss "the victim" (and this is just jargon, all health and human service reports refer to the children as victims), I found that she had excellent insight into the child. Let's call him John Doe. She had done something extraordinary: she had gained his trust. He physically brightened at the mere sight of her and when she pulled him into her lap, he didn't flinch, but leaned into her gratefully. I knew that John would thrive under her care. And it made me happy. As always, I hoped that the parents would not regain custody but honestly? Most do. But, for now...he was safe.
Ann told me how John was still not sleeping well at night, tended to tremble violently at dusk each day as if expecting to be put back into the cupboard. This is not something that he will be able to shrug off easily. His fear will manifest itself over and over in his lifetime until he finds a way to overcome this difficult part of his life. IF he can. She said that he was taking small steps towards getting to know her children and his foster father but that he was still very clingy with her, still had fear that she would leave compounded with naughty behavior, seeming to almost push her away when all he sought was to be with her, feel protected.
Sometimes we, as humans, do this. We are so afraid of losing another that we guard against any bonding. It is easier. Safer not to expect much. John has had to learn this lesson at any incredibly young age.
Now, my job begins. His first session with me begins with me telling him my name and asking for his. He doesn't answer, just looks at the floor. I look at his dark brown hair and round blue eyes and privately wonder about the sort of person who could put a child in a dark cupboard swimming with vermin. Who could hang them in a closet like a skirt on a hanger.
I am very, very angry at those who have hurt this child. But, this is not the time nor the place, so I just sit with John and he and I play with the plastic farm set. I put a cow in the barn and ponder out loud what other animals should live in there with the cow. I pick up a chicken. Slowly, John begins to hand me animals. A horse. A goat. A pig. They all go in the barn. Next I pick up the boy figurine. Hmmm, I say out loud, where should he go? The barn or the house? Maybe he would like to sit up in the apple tree? It is quiet there. Safe. John puts him in the tree. I don't touch the mother or the father figures and he doesn't either. But, I hold up the cat and ask barn or house? John says house. The dog goes in the house too. I find another boy figurine and put him the tree with the first boy. John takes him out. Frowns. He says his first real sentence to me.
"The boy in the tree wants to be by hisself," he says.
Word.
I nod and soon we stop for the day. John looks around anxiously for Ann and there she is in the waiting room, smiling at him as she puts away her knitting.
They leave after we set up another appointment.
John is one of the luckier children. Not all these stories end with a loving caregiver.
On the way home, I stop to pick up milk and think about Liv, how nice it will be to hug her, to hold her. To know that she is safe.
I think back to my brooding over the last two days and I roll my eyes, disgusted with myself.
Get over yourself I think to myself.
Just get over yourself. You are so, so lucky.
And I am. No more complaining.
There are so many lost children out there. And so many will never be reached. But, we do what we can. We do what we can. And it has to be enough for now.
I turn on some Lady Gaga and listen to her all the way home...the volume up so loud that it causes a pulse in my temple. It feels good. Like being washed hard clean.
Goodnight to all the children of the world. Sleep tight. Sleep safe. And may someone show you a kindness today.
Victim is a 4 years and 1 month old Caucasian male. This worker went to the home to make an unscheduled visit at 8:45 p.m. Door was ajar, so worker walked in, calling for residents. They were sitting and watching the television. They were unprepared for a visit. House was not clean, evidence of drug paraphernalia in ashtrays, ie a roach clip and a small baggie of what looked to be marijuana. Rolling papers. Residents jumped up and Mary Smith, the victim's mother walked quickly to the kitchen. This worker followed her and was witness to her opening a small cupboard door under the sink. The victim crawled out, wearing only underpants and squinting against the kitchen lights. Mary Smith reported that the child was being punished for an infraction. Worker knelt down to talk to victim, but he was unresponsive, looking at the floor at all times. When worker asked Mary Smith what the infraction was, she stated that the child had "peed his pants." The kitchen was in bad squalor, worker witnessed a large rat behind a garbage can. Worker made the decision to remove the child from the premises and to call police to report drug paraphernalia, although all evidence of drugs had been removed when she returned to the living room. Worker informed the residents that the victim would be removed at this time. They did not comment. Worker requested that the victim be dressed and went with Mary Smith to observe dressing of victim. Mary Smith picked up dirty clothes laying on a bedroom floor and dressed the victim. No words were exchanged between Mary Smith and the victim. Worker noted that at previous visit a bed had been in the room but now there was no trace of it. Worker remitted child to her car where they waited for police to arrive. When police arrived to search house, worker and victim waited in police car for a report to be made. No drugs or drug paraphernalia were found at consequent search. Victim was taken to temporary foster care with Ann Jones of 111 Walnut St. The following Monday, worker visited the foster care placement home and was able to speak to Ann Jones who seemed to have established a workable rapport with victim. Ann Jones reported that victim had stated to her that he slept in the small kitchen cupboard at night "as soon as the blinds were shut." Ann Jones reported that on the first night of victim's stay, she had bathed him and put him in a bed but the child was trembling, so she moved him to the sofa where he fell asleep next to her and she remained with him for the rest of the night. The next day was quiet. Victim ate what he was served and sat quietly; did not talk or play with proffered toys. In the evening when Ann Jones went to shut the blinds at her home, the victim began shivering and crying but still would not speak. After several attempts to comfort victim, he finally was able to tell her that "as soon as the blinds shut, it was go in the cupboard time." Victim also reported that when he struggled or refused to cooperate that he was tied to a wooden hanger and hung upside down in a closet until he promised to be quiet and obey. This worker believes that this child may be in need of psychological assistance at this time and requests an initial meeting with foster parent, who has more to report and then a meeting with victim as soon as possible. Foster parent will accompany victim to medical facility for an overall physical evaluation. Possible speech delays as well.
The next meeting was with Ann Jones, the foster parent. I have learned a great deal regarding the foster care system in the course of my employment at my current job. In my opinion, they come in 4 categories:
1) Foster parent is not doing this for payment. This is a person who truly wishes to help children.
2) Foster parent is doing this for payment, but they are kind and loving to the child.
3) Foster parent is doing this for payment. They are not abusive to child, but there is no real bonding. Foster parent attends to the child's physical needs but no emotional connection is there.
4) Foster parent is doing this for payment. They care only about the money and have no concerns whatsoever for the child. This is the foster parent who will swear up and down that the child in their care is showing symptoms of autism. They will have boned up on the symptoms and sometimes out and out lie about how the child tends to avoid eye contact, wave hands uncontrollably, engages in repetitive behavior and does not seem to understand social behavior. They are savvy in knowing that if the child is diagnosed with autism or any other behaviors in the spectrum, that they will receive more money.
Unfortunately, most foster parents that I have seen fall into either category 3 or 4. There are some exceptions. Ann Jones is one of them. She and her husband have been foster parents for years and have adopted three of the children who came to live with them as foster children. She is quiet voiced, honest and every child who comes into her care is very, very lucky. She is warm and loving, kind and generous spirited.
When I met with Ann to discuss "the victim" (and this is just jargon, all health and human service reports refer to the children as victims), I found that she had excellent insight into the child. Let's call him John Doe. She had done something extraordinary: she had gained his trust. He physically brightened at the mere sight of her and when she pulled him into her lap, he didn't flinch, but leaned into her gratefully. I knew that John would thrive under her care. And it made me happy. As always, I hoped that the parents would not regain custody but honestly? Most do. But, for now...he was safe.
Ann told me how John was still not sleeping well at night, tended to tremble violently at dusk each day as if expecting to be put back into the cupboard. This is not something that he will be able to shrug off easily. His fear will manifest itself over and over in his lifetime until he finds a way to overcome this difficult part of his life. IF he can. She said that he was taking small steps towards getting to know her children and his foster father but that he was still very clingy with her, still had fear that she would leave compounded with naughty behavior, seeming to almost push her away when all he sought was to be with her, feel protected.
Sometimes we, as humans, do this. We are so afraid of losing another that we guard against any bonding. It is easier. Safer not to expect much. John has had to learn this lesson at any incredibly young age.
Now, my job begins. His first session with me begins with me telling him my name and asking for his. He doesn't answer, just looks at the floor. I look at his dark brown hair and round blue eyes and privately wonder about the sort of person who could put a child in a dark cupboard swimming with vermin. Who could hang them in a closet like a skirt on a hanger.
I am very, very angry at those who have hurt this child. But, this is not the time nor the place, so I just sit with John and he and I play with the plastic farm set. I put a cow in the barn and ponder out loud what other animals should live in there with the cow. I pick up a chicken. Slowly, John begins to hand me animals. A horse. A goat. A pig. They all go in the barn. Next I pick up the boy figurine. Hmmm, I say out loud, where should he go? The barn or the house? Maybe he would like to sit up in the apple tree? It is quiet there. Safe. John puts him in the tree. I don't touch the mother or the father figures and he doesn't either. But, I hold up the cat and ask barn or house? John says house. The dog goes in the house too. I find another boy figurine and put him the tree with the first boy. John takes him out. Frowns. He says his first real sentence to me.
"The boy in the tree wants to be by hisself," he says.
Word.
I nod and soon we stop for the day. John looks around anxiously for Ann and there she is in the waiting room, smiling at him as she puts away her knitting.
They leave after we set up another appointment.
John is one of the luckier children. Not all these stories end with a loving caregiver.
On the way home, I stop to pick up milk and think about Liv, how nice it will be to hug her, to hold her. To know that she is safe.
I think back to my brooding over the last two days and I roll my eyes, disgusted with myself.
Get over yourself I think to myself.
Just get over yourself. You are so, so lucky.
And I am. No more complaining.
There are so many lost children out there. And so many will never be reached. But, we do what we can. We do what we can. And it has to be enough for now.
I turn on some Lady Gaga and listen to her all the way home...the volume up so loud that it causes a pulse in my temple. It feels good. Like being washed hard clean.
Goodnight to all the children of the world. Sleep tight. Sleep safe. And may someone show you a kindness today.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
How to stop crying...
Enough, I told myself. Enough.
It isn't as if she is dead. She is coming back...in less than a month. I'm not sure why I'm not doing as well this summer as I did the last one, but I do know that this maudlin weepy self of mine is going to get a swift kick in the ass from the person who knows her best: me.
So..this is what you do:
You get up and wear something extra comfy to work today. You pack a fun size snickers bar in your lunch of yogurt and an apple. Whoever says that food should never be a comfort is just fucking wrong, dudes. Sometimes you just need that snickers bar. And in my case, it has to be the "fun size" so that my blood sugar doesn't go through the roof.
You don't eat lunch alone, although it is tempting. No. You tell Julie, your co-worker that you need some company for lunch and she brings her yogurt and shares her big bag of popcorn with you. You talk about anything but Bing.
After lunch, you ask Piper when Keith Urban is coming to your city because...good hell...has she heard that new song of his? She has. She tells you that you should get tickets to see him. GOOD SEATS. He is worth it. He is funny and quite the showman and will make that dollar count. So, you go to his website and see that he is coming to your city in late August. You buy two tickets, pricey ones on the main floor. Either Bing will go with you or your sister or Harriet or Liv. But, it is something to look forward to. Bing will be home for over a week when he gets here. Won't that be nice?
You spend the rest of the day with that song in your head ("the travelin', the singin', it ain't worth nothin' without youuuuu..") and by the time you leave work, you are feeling better.
You pick up Liv who is staying at the neighbor's house this week. You go home and have hot dogs for dinner. With dill pickles. You listen to Liv talk about her day and you laugh a lot. You go out after dinner and weed the garden, singing softly together. Some silly song that Liv has loved since childhood about Susanna not crying and the sun being so hot that you froze to death. The dog runs after a rabbit who is really just toying with him. He doesn't know it, though, and runs so hard and fast on his short little legs and is truly embarrassed that he can never quite catch one. You pet him, tell him that rabbits are cute, yes, but that they are secret keepers so feel free to whisper a secret to them instead of chasing them. Liv looks at you and asks where you heard that. You shrug and say, "Your grandfather."
She nods, she thought as much.
Later, you will read books together quietly, both of you stretched out on the sofa, legs entangled, a dog in the middle of it. You will put your finger in your book and look at your daughter and think to yourself that she truly is lovely. She truly is. She will look up at you and make a crazy face that will make you laugh.
Later, as you soak in the tub before bed, you will close your eyes for just a second and allow yourself to miss Bing. But, you won't wallow in it and you will sit up and scrub your feet until they tingle with the bath brush. When you get out of the tub, you will feel like climbing into bed and reading for a while, so you kiss Liv goodnight and crawl right in.
You will read until your eyes are heavy and just before you fall asleep, you will allow yourself to think of that song that always reminds you of her, of how good this is with her, how happy you are when you just allow yourself to be. Think about messing up the bed and the way her neck arches so gracefully as she throws back her head and laughs when you tell her some funny thing that Liv said or the dog did or just some random thought that occurs to you.
Think about what it is like to be still so in love at this ripe old age....
It isn't as if she is dead. She is coming back...in less than a month. I'm not sure why I'm not doing as well this summer as I did the last one, but I do know that this maudlin weepy self of mine is going to get a swift kick in the ass from the person who knows her best: me.
So..this is what you do:
You get up and wear something extra comfy to work today. You pack a fun size snickers bar in your lunch of yogurt and an apple. Whoever says that food should never be a comfort is just fucking wrong, dudes. Sometimes you just need that snickers bar. And in my case, it has to be the "fun size" so that my blood sugar doesn't go through the roof.
You don't eat lunch alone, although it is tempting. No. You tell Julie, your co-worker that you need some company for lunch and she brings her yogurt and shares her big bag of popcorn with you. You talk about anything but Bing.
After lunch, you ask Piper when Keith Urban is coming to your city because...good hell...has she heard that new song of his? She has. She tells you that you should get tickets to see him. GOOD SEATS. He is worth it. He is funny and quite the showman and will make that dollar count. So, you go to his website and see that he is coming to your city in late August. You buy two tickets, pricey ones on the main floor. Either Bing will go with you or your sister or Harriet or Liv. But, it is something to look forward to. Bing will be home for over a week when he gets here. Won't that be nice?
You spend the rest of the day with that song in your head ("the travelin', the singin', it ain't worth nothin' without youuuuu..") and by the time you leave work, you are feeling better.
You pick up Liv who is staying at the neighbor's house this week. You go home and have hot dogs for dinner. With dill pickles. You listen to Liv talk about her day and you laugh a lot. You go out after dinner and weed the garden, singing softly together. Some silly song that Liv has loved since childhood about Susanna not crying and the sun being so hot that you froze to death. The dog runs after a rabbit who is really just toying with him. He doesn't know it, though, and runs so hard and fast on his short little legs and is truly embarrassed that he can never quite catch one. You pet him, tell him that rabbits are cute, yes, but that they are secret keepers so feel free to whisper a secret to them instead of chasing them. Liv looks at you and asks where you heard that. You shrug and say, "Your grandfather."
She nods, she thought as much.
Later, you will read books together quietly, both of you stretched out on the sofa, legs entangled, a dog in the middle of it. You will put your finger in your book and look at your daughter and think to yourself that she truly is lovely. She truly is. She will look up at you and make a crazy face that will make you laugh.
Later, as you soak in the tub before bed, you will close your eyes for just a second and allow yourself to miss Bing. But, you won't wallow in it and you will sit up and scrub your feet until they tingle with the bath brush. When you get out of the tub, you will feel like climbing into bed and reading for a while, so you kiss Liv goodnight and crawl right in.
You will read until your eyes are heavy and just before you fall asleep, you will allow yourself to think of that song that always reminds you of her, of how good this is with her, how happy you are when you just allow yourself to be. Think about messing up the bed and the way her neck arches so gracefully as she throws back her head and laughs when you tell her some funny thing that Liv said or the dog did or just some random thought that occurs to you.
Think about what it is like to be still so in love at this ripe old age....
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Weeping
It's been a day..
Liv's back home, so there is that piece of joy. She had a swim meet tonight and I sat watching her sluicing through the water with my big sun hat shielding me and my sunglasses hiding the tears in my eyes as I looked at her, my dolphin in the blue tinged water. She's loved the water since babyhood. And now her coach tells me that she is a natural swimmer, has the body for sliding through water fast. A long torso, he tells me and long legs. Good strong feet. Yes.
I almost fired my secretary today. But...couldn't. I had it all planned out in my head what I would say, how I would say it. Had talked to my cohorts, worked out the legalities of it. And then, around noon, I got up to walk the halls and stretch my legs. I glanced into the employee lounge on our floor and happened to see her sitting alone at a table. Her lunch was spread out in front of her, but she wasn't eating. She was sitting silently, staring out the window. Her face was still and...haunted. As if she were seeing something, some person or place in her past that had left a hurting memory. I stood looking at her through the rectangular window and then headed back to the office, my hands deep in my pockets. She is in her seventies, a spinster who lives alone with her cat named Mister. At first, when she talked about him, I had thought he was her husband, not her cat. She made him sound so...human.
I guess she is lonely. I've never asked or anything. Why would I? It isn't a proper question to ask someone. Yet. Yet. She must be lonely. Maybe that is why her shell is so hard, her voice so brittle.
I decided to wait a bit longer. Think more on this. I can't stand the thought of her sitting home with Mister.
When we returned home from the swim meet tonight, I went to check e-mail and discovered a new e-mail from Bing:
Hi, baby.
Today we toured the Allierton Museum. Tomorrow we spend the day in Dresden. You would love the weather here. I've been looking in the shops for a ring for you. I know you said you'd like one. But, they are bigger than my budget. Guess it is lucky that my love for you is so much bigger than my budget. I will keep looking. And yes, I have rocks for you. I know how you love those rocks.
I keep thinking about you. Are you thinking about me? You don't say much, but I know you love me, Maria. I feel it right here. And here. And here. I am so glad that our Livvy is home and in your arms again. Where she belongs. Where I long to be right now. Sending a song that says it better, because you know I am not the wordsmith that you are.
Suffice it to say that all of this wonderful journey would mean so little if I didn't have you to tell about it when I get home. I love you. So much.
Love you, love you, love you...big large.
Bing
I sat in my chair weeping. Still weeping off and on. Time to go to bed with one of her tee shirts that holds her scent. I found it on a basement chair where she must have taken it off to do her work out.
Weeping.
Liv's back home, so there is that piece of joy. She had a swim meet tonight and I sat watching her sluicing through the water with my big sun hat shielding me and my sunglasses hiding the tears in my eyes as I looked at her, my dolphin in the blue tinged water. She's loved the water since babyhood. And now her coach tells me that she is a natural swimmer, has the body for sliding through water fast. A long torso, he tells me and long legs. Good strong feet. Yes.
I almost fired my secretary today. But...couldn't. I had it all planned out in my head what I would say, how I would say it. Had talked to my cohorts, worked out the legalities of it. And then, around noon, I got up to walk the halls and stretch my legs. I glanced into the employee lounge on our floor and happened to see her sitting alone at a table. Her lunch was spread out in front of her, but she wasn't eating. She was sitting silently, staring out the window. Her face was still and...haunted. As if she were seeing something, some person or place in her past that had left a hurting memory. I stood looking at her through the rectangular window and then headed back to the office, my hands deep in my pockets. She is in her seventies, a spinster who lives alone with her cat named Mister. At first, when she talked about him, I had thought he was her husband, not her cat. She made him sound so...human.
I guess she is lonely. I've never asked or anything. Why would I? It isn't a proper question to ask someone. Yet. Yet. She must be lonely. Maybe that is why her shell is so hard, her voice so brittle.
I decided to wait a bit longer. Think more on this. I can't stand the thought of her sitting home with Mister.
When we returned home from the swim meet tonight, I went to check e-mail and discovered a new e-mail from Bing:
Hi, baby.
Today we toured the Allierton Museum. Tomorrow we spend the day in Dresden. You would love the weather here. I've been looking in the shops for a ring for you. I know you said you'd like one. But, they are bigger than my budget. Guess it is lucky that my love for you is so much bigger than my budget. I will keep looking. And yes, I have rocks for you. I know how you love those rocks.
I keep thinking about you. Are you thinking about me? You don't say much, but I know you love me, Maria. I feel it right here. And here. And here. I am so glad that our Livvy is home and in your arms again. Where she belongs. Where I long to be right now. Sending a song that says it better, because you know I am not the wordsmith that you are.
Suffice it to say that all of this wonderful journey would mean so little if I didn't have you to tell about it when I get home. I love you. So much.
Love you, love you, love you...big large.
Bing
I sat in my chair weeping. Still weeping off and on. Time to go to bed with one of her tee shirts that holds her scent. I found it on a basement chair where she must have taken it off to do her work out.
Weeping.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Inside the head of a crazy woman.
Okay..really need to work now. Really need to get this done.
CONCENTRATE...
We are still far from research which captures the complexity of ASD (autism spectrum disorder) and treatment outcomes...
Hm...I really loved seeing WICKED last weekend. I wonder what it would be like to travel with a company like that. I wonder if the actress who plays Elphaba has skin problems from all that green paint...
Relationships are the vehicle for creating learning interactions which are tailored to a child's individual processing differences and thereby enable a child to progressively master six core functional developmental capacities...
The word "capacities" just looks all wrong to me. Why can't I fucking spell anymore? I used to be this cracker jack speller and now I sit around wondering how to spell occasion. I wonder if I have Alzheimer's. It could happen. I am certainly in the age range for early onset. God, that would be so awful...to lose one's mind like that. To hover around in confusion, trying to piece together this and that and come to a conclusion. I hope I don't end up a bag lady with Alzheimer's. I wonder if I should be socking more away in Liv's college fund. It would be so great to just win the lottery and not have to worry about this shit. I wonder what health insurance will be like when she is my age?
We use an understanding of children's individual differences in sensory modulation, processing, and motor planning to establish a relationship that creates opportunities for emotionally rich interactions...
I wonder why I am so aloof? Even my sisters tell me that I am. That there is this place inside of me that is unreachable. I wish I could say what I really think which is that I am like this because I don't really trust relationships in general. People leave. People whom you trust. People who you should be able to count on. God, I really have a lot of unresolved mommy issues, don't I? I hope I don't fuck up Liv. I try so hard to be the kind of mother that I didn't have. I want to be accessible to her, but not necessarily her friend. I don't really like the way that Celia parents and grandparents her kids. Too much of that buddying up with them. Being their friend. Kids don't want you to be their friend. They want you to be their sounding board, their wall that they test their pushing skills on sometimes. But, then...Jessie is just the opposite of Celia: a real hands off Mom. Her marriage comes first. And while she is demonstrative, she is not particularly loving with her kids. Am I a good parent? I wonder what my sisters think about me? Well, I think I already know. Not much of a role model, they think. They haven't said anything but I saw their eyes meet when I said that I pretty much let Liv pick out her own junior high to go to next year. I was available for advice and I was not shy about offering opinions, but I let her decide in the end. My sisters don't say so, but I know that they think I was shirking my parental duties...
Early intervention that takes into consideration the child's individual differences and works with the child's affect can facilitate the integration of sensory and motor action with social-emotional connections to foster improvements in all areas of....
I can't believe how veiny my hands are looking. I have the ugliest hands. And I am getting that crepe-y looking skin on my arms. Liv loves to stroke my arms, says that my skin is so soft. But, basically it is just old. I have old soft skin. Old soft crepe-y skin. Both Celia and Jessie are getting lines around their mouths. I don't have that yet, but it is just a matter of time, I suppose. All that La Mer I slather on my face can only stave off wrinkles for so long. I wish I could slide into old age more gracefully instead of reaching out to hold on to branches on my way down. I am not going gentle at all. I wonder if I should go with Bing next summer wherever she goes. She wants to travel and it would probably be good if I traveled with her. But, god..I hate to travel too far. I don't think mothers should be gallivanting all over the globe when they have children at home. I sound just like my mother. When did THAT happen?
Floortime refers to unstructured play sessions where the child is in the lead and initiates the ideas and the adult both follows and challenges the child...
I'm really hungry. That cheese sandwich for dinner wasn't very filling. But it is kind of late to eat a treat now. But...there is that ice cream in the freezer. Ben and Jerry's. My favorite. I should get up and brush my teeth right this second. That way, I won't be tempted to eat anything because god knows I ate like a sow this weekend. I don't need ice cream. I will be just fine if I skip it. God, the food was so good at that restaurant for Aunt Dottie's 90t birthday party. But, note to self: do not get trapped at an all male table again. They monopolize the conversation and listening to Cousin Henry go on and on about how he thinks that Newt Gingrich is so smart, he is just lucky that I didn't puke at the table. And why did they all get so defensive when I called Sarah Palin an idiot?
I'm too tired to get any work done. I think I should just shower and go to bed. No. I promised myself that I would finish this before bed tonight.
So..
When children are motivated, for example, in trying to negotiate to get a certain kind of....
Fuck. I can't do this. I want ice cream. I want Fiyero to come sing to me about how it is okay that I am green, that I have just opened up his eyes to see things a different way. I want to defy gravity and fly up on my broomstick and scare all the Republicans at dinner tables. But, I should go eat some ice cream first. Or maybe just shower and get to bed.
I wonder if I am getting Alzheimer's because I swear to god I cannot stay centered on anything for long these days.
I wonder why Bing didn't e-mail or text today. I think I should go text her something racy. Yeah. But, ice cream first. Ice cream first...
CONCENTRATE...
We are still far from research which captures the complexity of ASD (autism spectrum disorder) and treatment outcomes...
Hm...I really loved seeing WICKED last weekend. I wonder what it would be like to travel with a company like that. I wonder if the actress who plays Elphaba has skin problems from all that green paint...
Relationships are the vehicle for creating learning interactions which are tailored to a child's individual processing differences and thereby enable a child to progressively master six core functional developmental capacities...
The word "capacities" just looks all wrong to me. Why can't I fucking spell anymore? I used to be this cracker jack speller and now I sit around wondering how to spell occasion. I wonder if I have Alzheimer's. It could happen. I am certainly in the age range for early onset. God, that would be so awful...to lose one's mind like that. To hover around in confusion, trying to piece together this and that and come to a conclusion. I hope I don't end up a bag lady with Alzheimer's. I wonder if I should be socking more away in Liv's college fund. It would be so great to just win the lottery and not have to worry about this shit. I wonder what health insurance will be like when she is my age?
We use an understanding of children's individual differences in sensory modulation, processing, and motor planning to establish a relationship that creates opportunities for emotionally rich interactions...
I wonder why I am so aloof? Even my sisters tell me that I am. That there is this place inside of me that is unreachable. I wish I could say what I really think which is that I am like this because I don't really trust relationships in general. People leave. People whom you trust. People who you should be able to count on. God, I really have a lot of unresolved mommy issues, don't I? I hope I don't fuck up Liv. I try so hard to be the kind of mother that I didn't have. I want to be accessible to her, but not necessarily her friend. I don't really like the way that Celia parents and grandparents her kids. Too much of that buddying up with them. Being their friend. Kids don't want you to be their friend. They want you to be their sounding board, their wall that they test their pushing skills on sometimes. But, then...Jessie is just the opposite of Celia: a real hands off Mom. Her marriage comes first. And while she is demonstrative, she is not particularly loving with her kids. Am I a good parent? I wonder what my sisters think about me? Well, I think I already know. Not much of a role model, they think. They haven't said anything but I saw their eyes meet when I said that I pretty much let Liv pick out her own junior high to go to next year. I was available for advice and I was not shy about offering opinions, but I let her decide in the end. My sisters don't say so, but I know that they think I was shirking my parental duties...
Early intervention that takes into consideration the child's individual differences and works with the child's affect can facilitate the integration of sensory and motor action with social-emotional connections to foster improvements in all areas of....
I can't believe how veiny my hands are looking. I have the ugliest hands. And I am getting that crepe-y looking skin on my arms. Liv loves to stroke my arms, says that my skin is so soft. But, basically it is just old. I have old soft skin. Old soft crepe-y skin. Both Celia and Jessie are getting lines around their mouths. I don't have that yet, but it is just a matter of time, I suppose. All that La Mer I slather on my face can only stave off wrinkles for so long. I wish I could slide into old age more gracefully instead of reaching out to hold on to branches on my way down. I am not going gentle at all. I wonder if I should go with Bing next summer wherever she goes. She wants to travel and it would probably be good if I traveled with her. But, god..I hate to travel too far. I don't think mothers should be gallivanting all over the globe when they have children at home. I sound just like my mother. When did THAT happen?
Floortime refers to unstructured play sessions where the child is in the lead and initiates the ideas and the adult both follows and challenges the child...
I'm really hungry. That cheese sandwich for dinner wasn't very filling. But it is kind of late to eat a treat now. But...there is that ice cream in the freezer. Ben and Jerry's. My favorite. I should get up and brush my teeth right this second. That way, I won't be tempted to eat anything because god knows I ate like a sow this weekend. I don't need ice cream. I will be just fine if I skip it. God, the food was so good at that restaurant for Aunt Dottie's 90t birthday party. But, note to self: do not get trapped at an all male table again. They monopolize the conversation and listening to Cousin Henry go on and on about how he thinks that Newt Gingrich is so smart, he is just lucky that I didn't puke at the table. And why did they all get so defensive when I called Sarah Palin an idiot?
I'm too tired to get any work done. I think I should just shower and go to bed. No. I promised myself that I would finish this before bed tonight.
So..
When children are motivated, for example, in trying to negotiate to get a certain kind of....
Fuck. I can't do this. I want ice cream. I want Fiyero to come sing to me about how it is okay that I am green, that I have just opened up his eyes to see things a different way. I want to defy gravity and fly up on my broomstick and scare all the Republicans at dinner tables. But, I should go eat some ice cream first. Or maybe just shower and get to bed.
I wonder if I am getting Alzheimer's because I swear to god I cannot stay centered on anything for long these days.
I wonder why Bing didn't e-mail or text today. I think I should go text her something racy. Yeah. But, ice cream first. Ice cream first...
Sunday, June 12, 2011
I can't believe that I have to go back to work tomorrow.
It has been a crazy weekend.
My sisters and their daughters were in town, so it was an all girl show, all weekend. I had a houseful.
Saw WICKED. Again. Third time. And seriously, there should be a rule that if you come late, you have to stand in the back of the theater and wait for intermission instead of stumbling around laughing in the near darkness trying †o figure out where the hell your seat is. I wish that the all the actors would just stop dead still on the stage and stare at the people who come in late and not resume until they find their stupid seats.
Oh, and to the love birds who sat in front of my and my sister, Celia....GET A ROOM. She was one of those needy ass women who kept dipping her head on to the guy's shoulder when I was trying to see the stage.
I do regret that I drank way too much. Every night.
I do not regret learning how to dance the chicken dance.
I've decided that while I love my sisters and their daughters, I do not especially like big family reunions where no one asks me about my wife or daughter. I feel like the orphan at the table. But, you know what? I decided that I didn't give a fuck.
Which reminds me that Jessie told me that I say the word fuck too much. I do. I know this. Shit, I'm sorry. Is that better?
I got yahtzee 4 times in a row. Is that luck or what?
My knee and ankles are swollen, so it is early to bed tonight.
I flirted with our waiter. This is sort of pathetic since I am 53 and he looked like he could be my son. He did tell me that he liked my hair ("You kind of look like Meg Ryan in "Proof of Life"...), and for that...I am grateful. I will take what I can get. Even though I have never seen that movie and I honestly look NOTHING like Meg Ryan. It did give my drunken sisters fodder all night. ("Can we get some free drinks if we let you take your photo with Meg Ryan?")
I also learned that Jessie and I cannot play charades and be on opposite teams because we are both wildly competitive and sore losers. But, hey...I beat her ass fair and square. Didn't I, missy?
It is probably a bad idea to attempt to show your sisters what your Japanese lilies look like at midnight when you are all in your nightgowns and wandering through your yard with flash lights.
Drunk blogging can actually be done successfully. I did this and I was mostly coherent.
Why is it when a child bumps her head on the diving board and it bleeds that instead of looking at my sister, Patrice, who is a retired NURSE, everyone looks at me to bandage it up instead before we go to the ER even though they all KNOW that I hate the sight of blood and that I should probably COUNSEL the child on the way to the hospital instead of trying to look at a gaping slash on a child's head and trying to figure out if we should get stitches. (We should. We did.)
I want to be Elphaba in WICKED. I want Fiyero to sing to me. I also want to be Galinda and sing about being popular too.
Saying goodbye to my sisters and hugging and kissing them in my driveway is probably a bad idea because we all start crying and I HATE knowing that now my neighbors have seen me bawling.
This house is really, really quiet and the dog is looking at me like: For the last three days, I have been petted and loved up and fed bacon under the table and now you are pretty much ignoring me, so I am going to go find one of your shoes and chew on it like a puppy for revenge. RUB MY BELLY. NOW.
Holding the six month old grandchild of my sister is so wonderful. All the baby smell, all that drooling nuzzling is just so....sweet. I miss Liv. I miss Liv. I miss Liv even though she no longer drools or nuzzles.
Jessie and I know all the lyrics from Don't Fear the Reaper. And we sang them. We also sang the school song from our old high school in Iowa and after 36 years, I still remember every WORD.
Jessie and I are capable of singing Don't Fear the Reaper loudly alone in my car on the way home from shopping.
This house is so quiet. This house is so quiet. This house is so quiet.
My knee hurts. My ankles look like they have doughnuts around them.
I should probably get to bed.
Tomorrow it is back to work.
But...sisters.
As long as we don't talk about politics...or religion...
We are good.
This house is so quiet.....
I think I'll go listen to some Blue Oyster Cult.
My sisters and their daughters were in town, so it was an all girl show, all weekend. I had a houseful.
Saw WICKED. Again. Third time. And seriously, there should be a rule that if you come late, you have to stand in the back of the theater and wait for intermission instead of stumbling around laughing in the near darkness trying †o figure out where the hell your seat is. I wish that the all the actors would just stop dead still on the stage and stare at the people who come in late and not resume until they find their stupid seats.
Oh, and to the love birds who sat in front of my and my sister, Celia....GET A ROOM. She was one of those needy ass women who kept dipping her head on to the guy's shoulder when I was trying to see the stage.
I do regret that I drank way too much. Every night.
I do not regret learning how to dance the chicken dance.
I've decided that while I love my sisters and their daughters, I do not especially like big family reunions where no one asks me about my wife or daughter. I feel like the orphan at the table. But, you know what? I decided that I didn't give a fuck.
Which reminds me that Jessie told me that I say the word fuck too much. I do. I know this. Shit, I'm sorry. Is that better?
I got yahtzee 4 times in a row. Is that luck or what?
My knee and ankles are swollen, so it is early to bed tonight.
I flirted with our waiter. This is sort of pathetic since I am 53 and he looked like he could be my son. He did tell me that he liked my hair ("You kind of look like Meg Ryan in "Proof of Life"...), and for that...I am grateful. I will take what I can get. Even though I have never seen that movie and I honestly look NOTHING like Meg Ryan. It did give my drunken sisters fodder all night. ("Can we get some free drinks if we let you take your photo with Meg Ryan?")
I also learned that Jessie and I cannot play charades and be on opposite teams because we are both wildly competitive and sore losers. But, hey...I beat her ass fair and square. Didn't I, missy?
It is probably a bad idea to attempt to show your sisters what your Japanese lilies look like at midnight when you are all in your nightgowns and wandering through your yard with flash lights.
Drunk blogging can actually be done successfully. I did this and I was mostly coherent.
Why is it when a child bumps her head on the diving board and it bleeds that instead of looking at my sister, Patrice, who is a retired NURSE, everyone looks at me to bandage it up instead before we go to the ER even though they all KNOW that I hate the sight of blood and that I should probably COUNSEL the child on the way to the hospital instead of trying to look at a gaping slash on a child's head and trying to figure out if we should get stitches. (We should. We did.)
I want to be Elphaba in WICKED. I want Fiyero to sing to me. I also want to be Galinda and sing about being popular too.
Saying goodbye to my sisters and hugging and kissing them in my driveway is probably a bad idea because we all start crying and I HATE knowing that now my neighbors have seen me bawling.
This house is really, really quiet and the dog is looking at me like: For the last three days, I have been petted and loved up and fed bacon under the table and now you are pretty much ignoring me, so I am going to go find one of your shoes and chew on it like a puppy for revenge. RUB MY BELLY. NOW.
Holding the six month old grandchild of my sister is so wonderful. All the baby smell, all that drooling nuzzling is just so....sweet. I miss Liv. I miss Liv. I miss Liv even though she no longer drools or nuzzles.
Jessie and I know all the lyrics from Don't Fear the Reaper. And we sang them. We also sang the school song from our old high school in Iowa and after 36 years, I still remember every WORD.
Jessie and I are capable of singing Don't Fear the Reaper loudly alone in my car on the way home from shopping.
This house is so quiet. This house is so quiet. This house is so quiet.
My knee hurts. My ankles look like they have doughnuts around them.
I should probably get to bed.
Tomorrow it is back to work.
But...sisters.
As long as we don't talk about politics...or religion...
We are good.
This house is so quiet.....
I think I'll go listen to some Blue Oyster Cult.
Thursday, June 09, 2011
Drunkard blogging
Just got home from dinner and drinks with my sisters.
All I can say is that it is very fortunate that I was not driving.
Three margaritas.
A plate of enchiladas. Rice. Beans.
Telling unflattering stories about our spouses. (Sorry, Bing...I didn't tell THAT story, but yes...that other one...lesser but still unflattering...)
Admitted our celebrity lusts:
Patrice: Tom Selleck.
Celia: Johnny Depp.
Me: Lee DeWyze/Chloe Svegny
Jessie: Shooter Jennings.
And I am sorry to say that I mocked Shooter. Called him "Mr. Greaseboat" because I am just that clever when I am hammered.
But..hey...it was payback for Jessie calling Lee "Mr. Sensitive Pants."
And funny stories about dumb things that people have said to us.
My favorite: Jessie was watching a movie with her co-worker best friend...who is, in my opinion, as dumb as a doorknob. They were watching a part in the movie where a couple was driving down a road in their car. Romantic music was playing as a back drop. The friend asked Jessie:
Is that background music or are they listening to the radio in the car?
I laughed so hard that I knocked over the bowl of chips.
Because there is stupid and then there is really, really stupid.
I tried to talk them all into the four of us getting sister tatts. Patrice was the designated driver and she shot me down. She said, "You will thank me in the morning, Miss Sloshy."
Ok..need to get to bed. I have to get up at 6 for work.
I have a feeling that it isn't going to be pretty.....
All I can say is that it is very fortunate that I was not driving.
Three margaritas.
A plate of enchiladas. Rice. Beans.
Telling unflattering stories about our spouses. (Sorry, Bing...I didn't tell THAT story, but yes...that other one...lesser but still unflattering...)
Admitted our celebrity lusts:
Patrice: Tom Selleck.
Celia: Johnny Depp.
Me: Lee DeWyze/Chloe Svegny
Jessie: Shooter Jennings.
And I am sorry to say that I mocked Shooter. Called him "Mr. Greaseboat" because I am just that clever when I am hammered.
But..hey...it was payback for Jessie calling Lee "Mr. Sensitive Pants."
And funny stories about dumb things that people have said to us.
My favorite: Jessie was watching a movie with her co-worker best friend...who is, in my opinion, as dumb as a doorknob. They were watching a part in the movie where a couple was driving down a road in their car. Romantic music was playing as a back drop. The friend asked Jessie:
Is that background music or are they listening to the radio in the car?
I laughed so hard that I knocked over the bowl of chips.
Because there is stupid and then there is really, really stupid.
I tried to talk them all into the four of us getting sister tatts. Patrice was the designated driver and she shot me down. She said, "You will thank me in the morning, Miss Sloshy."
Ok..need to get to bed. I have to get up at 6 for work.
I have a feeling that it isn't going to be pretty.....
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Finishing up with Liv's questions, because a promise is a promise
Okay...will try to finish up Liv's questions...
But, first...let me tell you what an awesome sister I have. Patrice is almost ten years older than me and she could easily pass as my little sister. She is one inch shorter than I am and since I am barely 5'1, she is like a munchkin. She and her husband are wealthy and I hold this against her WAY too often. They live in a huge house in therich-as-hell-republican western part of our city and actually have a kidney shaped pool.
A few days ago, she and I were talking on the phone and I mentioned that I needed to get a new set of sheets because my sage green sheets were getting threadbare. I also said that I was in the mood to go to the bookstore and buy a good book.
So, we met for dinner tonight at Blanc, one of my favorite burger joints. Every once in a while, they have a coffee bean coated hamburger that is so incredibly delicious that it is mouth watering. We sat talking and she asked if I missed Bing and Liv. I said that yes, for some reason this summer seemed harder than last summer, that I just felt so blue...
Patrice nodded, said she had heard it in my voice when we talked on the phone the other night.
"So," she went on, "I bought you some presents."
She does this nice shit. A lot. Much more than I do.
She gave me a set of sea foam bamboo sheets all tucked into this old fashioned old lady hatbox. Resting on top of the sheets? A 25$ gift certificate to Borders Bookstore. When I protested that she really didn't have to do this, she made a face at me.
"You're my baby sister and you have the blues. It is just sheets and a gift card, not a Mercedes, so just say thank you like our Mother raised us to and let's talk about how my husband is acting like a fuck face. I need to vent..."
I had to chuckle. Patrice is a nice Catholic girl. She rarely, if ever, says the word fuck, so I knew that she was really, really pissed off at her husband.
It turns out that he bought a puppy without asking her. So, yeah. Pretty much a fuck face, in my opinion. But, seriously, it doesn't take much for me to label that man a loser....
So...yes...I have an awesome sister. And my other sisters and their children are all descending on us this upcoming weekend. We are all going to see WICKED and party down.
Ok...on to Liv's questions:
1) How are you the same now as you were when you were my age? (She is 11.)
Here's my theory: people don't change all that much from the way that they were as children. Once in a while, an event will bring about change. Like when my Da died when I was even younger than you are, it did change me. I was no longer as innocent. I developed a very stiff backbone. When the worst thing you can imagine happens when you are just a kid, you become amazingly resilient. You also become scared to trust and love others because, hey...they could leave you or die or whatever. So, yeah, I changed in that regard. But, I am very much the same person that I was when I was a kid. I tend to be a loner, love to read, enjoy my own company. I am not particularly demonstrative unless I know someone really, really well and I tend to be more analytical than emotional. I will wager that when you are my age, you will be much the same as you are now: practical, pragmatic and yet, very very clever and funny. And you are your mother's daughter, Liv. You and I don't lend our hearts easily. And we would rather read than just about anything else.
2) When did you first feel like a grown up?
When my Da died. I had to grow up very quickly and I went from seeing the world as this safe, loving place to feeling as if I had to have my guard up all the time. Your grandmother and I did not get along well at all. I depended on my sisters and it was with them, that I felt safe being me. I still feel that way. I sometimes feel that the only people in the world who really know me are your Aunts Patrice, Celia and Jessie, you and Bing. And maybe Harriet too. But, my circle is small, Liv. Very small.
3) What were your worst/best jobs?
Worst job was cleaning hotel rooms when I was a sophomore in high school. I HATED it and it almost made me gag to have to clean bathrooms. I once threw back some sheets to change them and there was dried sperm on them and I had to go stand outside in the cool air and take deep breaths before I could back in the room and gingerly peel off those sheets, being VERY careful not to touch it or even look at it. My best job? Staying home to raise you until you were in kindergarten. It was kind of a lonely time, but it was also the most wonderful time of my life. It felt like you and me against the world and I was sure we would come out on top. I loved staying at home with you, Liv. It was very hard for me when you went to kindergarten and I had to go back to work full time because I had only budgeted for me to stay home until you were five. It was the most thrilling ride of my life, being with you.
3) Do you believe in love at first sight?
No. Not really. I think that there is absolutely lust or attraction at first sight. I have been incredibly drawn to people whom I only just met, but love is a very different animal. I don't really think one can fall in love instantly. Love has so many components and everything has to work on all cylinders. It is complicated. Well, romantic love, that is.
4) What was your most romantic date?
I am happy to tell you that it was with Bing. She came back to our city to live when you were in kindergarten. She had been living in New Orleans and she got a really good job offer here, so she moved again. She had lived here off and on, went to undergraduate school here, so she knew the area. She and I had never completely let go of each other, had kept our friendship very much alive. She and I started hanging out. One night, she and I went to see a play (and she must have really liked me a lot because you know how she hates plays...especially the one we went to. It was called Waiting for Godot and totally not her kind of thing) and then came home and sat out on the balcony and turned on the radio. She and I started dancing and the song, Ventura Highway came on and we were suddenly slow dancing. She held me close and looked down at me and I felt like I could barely breathe. She leaned down, slowly, slowly and said, "I am so far gone over you. So far gone." And we kissed. A lot. And yes, it was like the superbowl of romance. She told me later that she was terrified that I was going to tell her that I just wanted to be friends. And I almost did just THAT, because you know your Mama. She likes to analyze everything and rarely just follows her heart. But, with Bing...it was like I had no choice. Like she was my destiny. I hope that someday you meet someone who makes you feel like Bing makes me feel.
5) Was there one who got away?
I assume you mean a love. Yes. There were several. I dated lots and lots of really decent, good people and they were all worthy of being loved. But, I was a late bloomer and wasn't ready to let myself go for a very long time. So, lots of good people got away. Luckily, Bing wasn't one of them.
6) What is your best advice about relationships?
Be prepared to compromise. I think too many girls go into relationships thinking that they will be like the movies. They aren't. You have two very different people who come to the table with different pasts and ideas. If you aren't willing to compromise, you won't have a workable relationship.
7) What did you think the first time you held me in your arms?
Well, my eyes just filled with tears. Because...wow...you were such a joy. I remember feeling so exhausted but when I looked into your eyes (and you had blue eyes like most brown eyed babies do at first), I had this uncanny feeling of knowing that I KNEW you. It was like I recognized you from somewhere but couldn't put my finger on it. My first thought when I saw you was honestly this: THERE YOU ARE! AT LAST! I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU! I had heard other mothers talk about mother love and say that they knew instantly when they saw their baby that they would die for them in a split second. I always thought that those mothers were exaggerating, Liv. But, you know...they were right. I knew the second that I saw you that you were the love of my life and that I would die for you. In a split second. Or maybe even faster than that. And it was such an odd feeling for me to experience because I was never the type of person who gave of myself very freely. But, you had my heart in your little hand from the beginning. You still do. It just goes on and on and on, this mother love. It is like a well that never runs dry. Lean on that love, Liv. I was born to be your Mama and you were born to be my daughter.
8) Do you miss having a baby in the house?
Sometimes. Yes. Having a baby is an incredible amount of work, but like I said, it is worth it. I wish that I could have given you a little brother or sister, but I was so old when you were born, nearly 42. I knew you would be my only child. And you are plenty.
9) Do I remind you of yourself?
Yes, in some ways. You are reticent like I am. And you are not much into frivolity or the kind of person who just flies around like a gadfly. You are a thinker and tend to be quiet like I am. But, you also have a very sarcastic humor like I do (Bing used to call you "precocious"..) and you share my love of gardening and books. You are a little more gregarious than I am, not much, but a little bit. You are probably more like your father than you are like me and frankly, I think this is a good thing. People like me aren't very easy to know and you have more friends than I ever did.
10) What is your favorite flower?
I like violets best. But, you know that.
And last, but not least:
11) What is your favorite quote?
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured and far away."
Time to for me to say goodnight, gracie...even though it is almost time for you to be waking up in France!
So, goodnight gracie..and I love you more than ten moons.
XXXOOO
Mama
But, first...let me tell you what an awesome sister I have. Patrice is almost ten years older than me and she could easily pass as my little sister. She is one inch shorter than I am and since I am barely 5'1, she is like a munchkin. She and her husband are wealthy and I hold this against her WAY too often. They live in a huge house in the
A few days ago, she and I were talking on the phone and I mentioned that I needed to get a new set of sheets because my sage green sheets were getting threadbare. I also said that I was in the mood to go to the bookstore and buy a good book.
So, we met for dinner tonight at Blanc, one of my favorite burger joints. Every once in a while, they have a coffee bean coated hamburger that is so incredibly delicious that it is mouth watering. We sat talking and she asked if I missed Bing and Liv. I said that yes, for some reason this summer seemed harder than last summer, that I just felt so blue...
Patrice nodded, said she had heard it in my voice when we talked on the phone the other night.
"So," she went on, "I bought you some presents."
She does this nice shit. A lot. Much more than I do.
She gave me a set of sea foam bamboo sheets all tucked into this old fashioned old lady hatbox. Resting on top of the sheets? A 25$ gift certificate to Borders Bookstore. When I protested that she really didn't have to do this, she made a face at me.
"You're my baby sister and you have the blues. It is just sheets and a gift card, not a Mercedes, so just say thank you like our Mother raised us to and let's talk about how my husband is acting like a fuck face. I need to vent..."
I had to chuckle. Patrice is a nice Catholic girl. She rarely, if ever, says the word fuck, so I knew that she was really, really pissed off at her husband.
It turns out that he bought a puppy without asking her. So, yeah. Pretty much a fuck face, in my opinion. But, seriously, it doesn't take much for me to label that man a loser....
So...yes...I have an awesome sister. And my other sisters and their children are all descending on us this upcoming weekend. We are all going to see WICKED and party down.
Ok...on to Liv's questions:
1) How are you the same now as you were when you were my age? (She is 11.)
Here's my theory: people don't change all that much from the way that they were as children. Once in a while, an event will bring about change. Like when my Da died when I was even younger than you are, it did change me. I was no longer as innocent. I developed a very stiff backbone. When the worst thing you can imagine happens when you are just a kid, you become amazingly resilient. You also become scared to trust and love others because, hey...they could leave you or die or whatever. So, yeah, I changed in that regard. But, I am very much the same person that I was when I was a kid. I tend to be a loner, love to read, enjoy my own company. I am not particularly demonstrative unless I know someone really, really well and I tend to be more analytical than emotional. I will wager that when you are my age, you will be much the same as you are now: practical, pragmatic and yet, very very clever and funny. And you are your mother's daughter, Liv. You and I don't lend our hearts easily. And we would rather read than just about anything else.
2) When did you first feel like a grown up?
When my Da died. I had to grow up very quickly and I went from seeing the world as this safe, loving place to feeling as if I had to have my guard up all the time. Your grandmother and I did not get along well at all. I depended on my sisters and it was with them, that I felt safe being me. I still feel that way. I sometimes feel that the only people in the world who really know me are your Aunts Patrice, Celia and Jessie, you and Bing. And maybe Harriet too. But, my circle is small, Liv. Very small.
3) What were your worst/best jobs?
Worst job was cleaning hotel rooms when I was a sophomore in high school. I HATED it and it almost made me gag to have to clean bathrooms. I once threw back some sheets to change them and there was dried sperm on them and I had to go stand outside in the cool air and take deep breaths before I could back in the room and gingerly peel off those sheets, being VERY careful not to touch it or even look at it. My best job? Staying home to raise you until you were in kindergarten. It was kind of a lonely time, but it was also the most wonderful time of my life. It felt like you and me against the world and I was sure we would come out on top. I loved staying at home with you, Liv. It was very hard for me when you went to kindergarten and I had to go back to work full time because I had only budgeted for me to stay home until you were five. It was the most thrilling ride of my life, being with you.
3) Do you believe in love at first sight?
No. Not really. I think that there is absolutely lust or attraction at first sight. I have been incredibly drawn to people whom I only just met, but love is a very different animal. I don't really think one can fall in love instantly. Love has so many components and everything has to work on all cylinders. It is complicated. Well, romantic love, that is.
4) What was your most romantic date?
I am happy to tell you that it was with Bing. She came back to our city to live when you were in kindergarten. She had been living in New Orleans and she got a really good job offer here, so she moved again. She had lived here off and on, went to undergraduate school here, so she knew the area. She and I had never completely let go of each other, had kept our friendship very much alive. She and I started hanging out. One night, she and I went to see a play (and she must have really liked me a lot because you know how she hates plays...especially the one we went to. It was called Waiting for Godot and totally not her kind of thing) and then came home and sat out on the balcony and turned on the radio. She and I started dancing and the song, Ventura Highway came on and we were suddenly slow dancing. She held me close and looked down at me and I felt like I could barely breathe. She leaned down, slowly, slowly and said, "I am so far gone over you. So far gone." And we kissed. A lot. And yes, it was like the superbowl of romance. She told me later that she was terrified that I was going to tell her that I just wanted to be friends. And I almost did just THAT, because you know your Mama. She likes to analyze everything and rarely just follows her heart. But, with Bing...it was like I had no choice. Like she was my destiny. I hope that someday you meet someone who makes you feel like Bing makes me feel.
5) Was there one who got away?
I assume you mean a love. Yes. There were several. I dated lots and lots of really decent, good people and they were all worthy of being loved. But, I was a late bloomer and wasn't ready to let myself go for a very long time. So, lots of good people got away. Luckily, Bing wasn't one of them.
6) What is your best advice about relationships?
Be prepared to compromise. I think too many girls go into relationships thinking that they will be like the movies. They aren't. You have two very different people who come to the table with different pasts and ideas. If you aren't willing to compromise, you won't have a workable relationship.
7) What did you think the first time you held me in your arms?
Well, my eyes just filled with tears. Because...wow...you were such a joy. I remember feeling so exhausted but when I looked into your eyes (and you had blue eyes like most brown eyed babies do at first), I had this uncanny feeling of knowing that I KNEW you. It was like I recognized you from somewhere but couldn't put my finger on it. My first thought when I saw you was honestly this: THERE YOU ARE! AT LAST! I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU! I had heard other mothers talk about mother love and say that they knew instantly when they saw their baby that they would die for them in a split second. I always thought that those mothers were exaggerating, Liv. But, you know...they were right. I knew the second that I saw you that you were the love of my life and that I would die for you. In a split second. Or maybe even faster than that. And it was such an odd feeling for me to experience because I was never the type of person who gave of myself very freely. But, you had my heart in your little hand from the beginning. You still do. It just goes on and on and on, this mother love. It is like a well that never runs dry. Lean on that love, Liv. I was born to be your Mama and you were born to be my daughter.
8) Do you miss having a baby in the house?
Sometimes. Yes. Having a baby is an incredible amount of work, but like I said, it is worth it. I wish that I could have given you a little brother or sister, but I was so old when you were born, nearly 42. I knew you would be my only child. And you are plenty.
9) Do I remind you of yourself?
Yes, in some ways. You are reticent like I am. And you are not much into frivolity or the kind of person who just flies around like a gadfly. You are a thinker and tend to be quiet like I am. But, you also have a very sarcastic humor like I do (Bing used to call you "precocious"..) and you share my love of gardening and books. You are a little more gregarious than I am, not much, but a little bit. You are probably more like your father than you are like me and frankly, I think this is a good thing. People like me aren't very easy to know and you have more friends than I ever did.
10) What is your favorite flower?
I like violets best. But, you know that.
And last, but not least:
11) What is your favorite quote?
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured and far away."
Time to for me to say goodnight, gracie...even though it is almost time for you to be waking up in France!
So, goodnight gracie..and I love you more than ten moons.
XXXOOO
Mama
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Finally finishing up the meme...
...and then I promise I will finish up Liv's questions. I just spent the entire day with my sisters, one is Patrice, who lives out in the western part of our city where all the rich Republicans live and the other sister, Jessie, who is in town with her husband and daughter to buy her a new cheap "teen car."
All the family was assembled at Patrice's house since she has the pool and all and it is like hot enough to fry a chicken on the sidewalk.
I wore my new 1950's pale pink bathing suit. And with my white skin, I looked like a plucked chicken and then burned a deep shade of red.
This will look so very attractive tomorrow at work....
But, I am only a little tipsy after drinking two margaritas with no food except for two bites of my sister's hot dog. So..why the hell not...finish the meme and see if I check in tomorrow and am shocked at my drunken meme-ing.
61) Do you trust others easily?
Fuck no. Bing would be the first to tell you that I still have trouble trusting HER. Trust does not come easily for me. On the up side, I am not easily fooled. On the down side...I am sure that I missed out on some great friendships because I just am not one to share my secrets.
62) What was your favorite toy as a child?
Believe it or not, I ADORED my easy bake oven. The commercials made it look so EASY. In reality, I must have had a faulty oven because it would make one side of my pan burn to a crisp and the other stay nearly raw. And yes, I ate the frosting instead of putting it on the cake...so my bad.
63) How many numbers are in your mobile phone?
God...so many that I have no idea who some of these people are.
64) Do you use sarcasm?
You think?
65) Do you know anyone famous?
Yes. One of our dearest friends is a Grammy nominated jazz artist. She and Bing played in an all girl rock band when we were in college and now she has gone on to live in Manhattan and she goes out to dinner with Billy Joel and Bonnie Raitt on a regular basis. And she is MY age and looks so fucking gorgeous that I can only assume that she has had a LOT of cosmetic help. I love her to death. She has a terrible sailor's mouth and whenever she comes home, she takes Bing and me out for dinner and drinks and we always have a ball.
66)Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
Yes. And honestly, it is not nearly as fun as it looks. I remember being almost unbearably hot and there is always some guy with terrible breath or body odor who stands right up close and personal with you.
67) What do you look for in a place to live?
When I was younger, I looked for a cheap place. Now I love my house because it is very old and cozy. Built in 1918, she is a Victorian hussy with all the curly q's and iron fencing. And glass door knobs, hard maple floors and a thick clawed porcelain bathtub. We also have a toilet that is so old that it has a box on top of it with a string that you pull to flush. It will honestly flush anything and uses about twenty gallons of water a flush. I also love the old fashioned wall paper in my bedroom. It is original and is tiny rose buds. I excuse the fact that her wiring is so bad that you can't use the toaster when the dryer is on or it will blow a fuse. And we have no central air conditioning, just window units.
68) What are your nicknames?
Liv's father calls me Ice. Bing calls me Sugar foot. My bff, Harriet calls me Bad Ass. But, I have always wanted someone to call me Pixie. No idea why. And yes, I am kidding.
69) How many hats do you own? What is your hat size?
Not many. I have two gardening hats, a pink baseball cap from my Susan Koman Walk for the Cure, a really hot looking cloche hat and a long stocking winter hat that Bing calls my Dr. Seuss hat. I have no idea what size I wear.
70) Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
No, but I wish I did. I often have to untie them to put them on and some mornings my fingers aren't working so well...
71) Were you upset about Steve Irwin dying?
Who the fuck is Steve Irwin?
72) What is your favorite ice cream flavor?
Lemon sorbet. I like peach too.
73)Are you lazy?
Not at all. I tend to work too hard, spend myself too freely.
74) What are your favorite songs at the moment?
I am missing Bing and my daughter, so...PAPERWEIGHT reminds me of Bing and LOVE OF MY LIFE reminds me of Liv.
75) What is your favorite band?
Hmmm. It is no secret that I would eat off of Lee DeWyze's shoes if he wanted me to. I also really am enjoying Mumford and Sons lately. And The Smiths. And The Decemberists. And I listened to the new Lady Gaga cd that Bing bought right before she left and I must say that she had my body swaying.
76) How many wisdom teeth do you have?
None. I had them ALL taken out at once when I was 25. I stupidly told my resident that I would be back to work in the afternoon and I was out like a light and drooling blood the entire day.
77) Do you want to go anywhere special this year?
Yes. I would like to go to Seattle to visit Sven if he would just let me. I also want to visit my old friend, Chloe in NYC and I have never, ever had a bad time visiting my friends, Vince and Thuan in Chicago.
78) What are you listening to right now?
Mumford and Sons.
79) Last thing you ate?
Two bites of my sister's hot dog. I wasn't hungry enough to eat a whole hot dog but knew that since I was drinking, I needed to eat something, so I snitched two bites of her dog.
80) Last person you talked to on the phone?
My sister, Patrice. She told me to stop and pick up relish on my way over to her house.
81) What is the first thing that you notice about yourself in the morning?
That I desperately need to put my eye gel on. The gel that takes the bags out from under my eyes...
82) Favorite thought provoking song?
Chapman's FAST CAR. It tells this incredible story.
83) Favorite two things to hate?
Women who talk incessantly about their boyfriends and The Westboro Clan.
84) Favorite Drink?
Chai tea or coffee. For an alcoholic drink, I ADORE appletinis.
85) Favorite Zodiac sign?
I don't really believe in them, but I used to do natal charts for extra cash in college. Kind of like I don't really believe in tarot cards but used to do readings for extra cash in college too. And I was remarkably good at it but I think this had more to do with my adeptness at reading body language. I am an Aquarian, Bing is a Virgo and Liv is a Leo, so we have interesting mix.
86) Sports you like to watch?
I LOVE College football. Especially my Cornhuskers. We have season tickets and try to go to every home game. And yes, we all wear red. We are die hard Husker fans.
87) What is your hair color?
It used to be brown. Now it is more gray than brown.
88) Eye color?
Hazel.
89) Do you wear glasses?
I have worn glasses since I was 4 years old. And I tried to wear contacts and HATED them. Could not stand to put things in my eye. So, now I have several frames: cat eye frames, John Lennon frames, Harry Potter frames,dark green frames, horn rimmed frames and confetti frames.
90) Siblings?
Three sisters. Two older. One younger.
91) Favorite month?
October. I love the colors of Autumn and it is FOOTBALL SEASON!!
92) Do you like sushi?
HATE it. I dislike ALL fish except for tuna.
93) Last thing you watched on television?
Hmm..okay. This is going to sound terrible. Last night I was up late and channel surfing and stumbled on this horrible porn movie on Cinemax. Since it was Cinemax, it was not hard core porn, just a really, really idiotic plot (three couples are out camping and one couple gets kidnapped by some crazy mutant sex crazed huge breasted women...I am not kidding...their breasts looked like bouncing bowling balls and one of the women kept saying, "I want to lay on the herrth with you and make you happy." I could not figure out what the hell she meant until I realized that she meant HEARTH but hey, who cares when you have breasts that are so stuffed with silicone that they bounce like super balls when you pretend to be fucking some guy who looks like he is 20 years older than you?) and finally I just could not stand to hear this guy pretending to NOT want to fuck because "it's too soon...we just did it!" when I knew that soon he would be behind her like a big dog with his bitch and she would have her mouth open wide while her breasts bounced crazily and he kept humping and grimacing. So..I turned it to a documentary on New York City.
94) Favorite day of the year?
Thanksgiving.Best food EVER. And my sister is a gourmet cook and we go to her house for dinner every year.
95) Are you too shy to ask someone out?
Interesting. No, I don't think I would be, but the truth is that I have never done the asking. I have always been the recipient.
96) Summer or Winter?
Neither. Spring or Fall is fine, though.
97) Kisses or hugs?
Depends on who we are talking about. But, in general, hugs. I really, really HATE tongue baths.
98) Relationships or One night stands?
Honestly? I am better suited to a one night stand, but since I am in a relationship, I admit to rather liking belonging to someone and having her belong to me. Never, ever thought I would say that, but there you go. I am domesticated.
99) Who is your favorite celebrity?
It changes depending on my mood. I like Lee DeWyze, Johnny Depp, Chloe Svegny, Laura Dern, Laura Linney, Jon Bon Jovi and Jimmy Fallon.
100) Books you'd like to see turned into a film?
Anything by Jonathan Tropper.
And I am out of here to go shower and watch the MTV awards and maybe have a pop tart.
And try to get to bed early since 6 a.m. is going to come SO SO quickly tomorrow.
All the family was assembled at Patrice's house since she has the pool and all and it is like hot enough to fry a chicken on the sidewalk.
I wore my new 1950's pale pink bathing suit. And with my white skin, I looked like a plucked chicken and then burned a deep shade of red.
This will look so very attractive tomorrow at work....
But, I am only a little tipsy after drinking two margaritas with no food except for two bites of my sister's hot dog. So..why the hell not...finish the meme and see if I check in tomorrow and am shocked at my drunken meme-ing.
61) Do you trust others easily?
Fuck no. Bing would be the first to tell you that I still have trouble trusting HER. Trust does not come easily for me. On the up side, I am not easily fooled. On the down side...I am sure that I missed out on some great friendships because I just am not one to share my secrets.
62) What was your favorite toy as a child?
Believe it or not, I ADORED my easy bake oven. The commercials made it look so EASY. In reality, I must have had a faulty oven because it would make one side of my pan burn to a crisp and the other stay nearly raw. And yes, I ate the frosting instead of putting it on the cake...so my bad.
63) How many numbers are in your mobile phone?
God...so many that I have no idea who some of these people are.
64) Do you use sarcasm?
You think?
65) Do you know anyone famous?
Yes. One of our dearest friends is a Grammy nominated jazz artist. She and Bing played in an all girl rock band when we were in college and now she has gone on to live in Manhattan and she goes out to dinner with Billy Joel and Bonnie Raitt on a regular basis. And she is MY age and looks so fucking gorgeous that I can only assume that she has had a LOT of cosmetic help. I love her to death. She has a terrible sailor's mouth and whenever she comes home, she takes Bing and me out for dinner and drinks and we always have a ball.
66)Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
Yes. And honestly, it is not nearly as fun as it looks. I remember being almost unbearably hot and there is always some guy with terrible breath or body odor who stands right up close and personal with you.
67) What do you look for in a place to live?
When I was younger, I looked for a cheap place. Now I love my house because it is very old and cozy. Built in 1918, she is a Victorian hussy with all the curly q's and iron fencing. And glass door knobs, hard maple floors and a thick clawed porcelain bathtub. We also have a toilet that is so old that it has a box on top of it with a string that you pull to flush. It will honestly flush anything and uses about twenty gallons of water a flush. I also love the old fashioned wall paper in my bedroom. It is original and is tiny rose buds. I excuse the fact that her wiring is so bad that you can't use the toaster when the dryer is on or it will blow a fuse. And we have no central air conditioning, just window units.
68) What are your nicknames?
Liv's father calls me Ice. Bing calls me Sugar foot. My bff, Harriet calls me Bad Ass. But, I have always wanted someone to call me Pixie. No idea why. And yes, I am kidding.
69) How many hats do you own? What is your hat size?
Not many. I have two gardening hats, a pink baseball cap from my Susan Koman Walk for the Cure, a really hot looking cloche hat and a long stocking winter hat that Bing calls my Dr. Seuss hat. I have no idea what size I wear.
70) Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
No, but I wish I did. I often have to untie them to put them on and some mornings my fingers aren't working so well...
71) Were you upset about Steve Irwin dying?
Who the fuck is Steve Irwin?
72) What is your favorite ice cream flavor?
Lemon sorbet. I like peach too.
73)Are you lazy?
Not at all. I tend to work too hard, spend myself too freely.
74) What are your favorite songs at the moment?
I am missing Bing and my daughter, so...PAPERWEIGHT reminds me of Bing and LOVE OF MY LIFE reminds me of Liv.
75) What is your favorite band?
Hmmm. It is no secret that I would eat off of Lee DeWyze's shoes if he wanted me to. I also really am enjoying Mumford and Sons lately. And The Smiths. And The Decemberists. And I listened to the new Lady Gaga cd that Bing bought right before she left and I must say that she had my body swaying.
76) How many wisdom teeth do you have?
None. I had them ALL taken out at once when I was 25. I stupidly told my resident that I would be back to work in the afternoon and I was out like a light and drooling blood the entire day.
77) Do you want to go anywhere special this year?
Yes. I would like to go to Seattle to visit Sven if he would just let me. I also want to visit my old friend, Chloe in NYC and I have never, ever had a bad time visiting my friends, Vince and Thuan in Chicago.
78) What are you listening to right now?
Mumford and Sons.
79) Last thing you ate?
Two bites of my sister's hot dog. I wasn't hungry enough to eat a whole hot dog but knew that since I was drinking, I needed to eat something, so I snitched two bites of her dog.
80) Last person you talked to on the phone?
My sister, Patrice. She told me to stop and pick up relish on my way over to her house.
81) What is the first thing that you notice about yourself in the morning?
That I desperately need to put my eye gel on. The gel that takes the bags out from under my eyes...
82) Favorite thought provoking song?
Chapman's FAST CAR. It tells this incredible story.
83) Favorite two things to hate?
Women who talk incessantly about their boyfriends and The Westboro Clan.
84) Favorite Drink?
Chai tea or coffee. For an alcoholic drink, I ADORE appletinis.
85) Favorite Zodiac sign?
I don't really believe in them, but I used to do natal charts for extra cash in college. Kind of like I don't really believe in tarot cards but used to do readings for extra cash in college too. And I was remarkably good at it but I think this had more to do with my adeptness at reading body language. I am an Aquarian, Bing is a Virgo and Liv is a Leo, so we have interesting mix.
86) Sports you like to watch?
I LOVE College football. Especially my Cornhuskers. We have season tickets and try to go to every home game. And yes, we all wear red. We are die hard Husker fans.
87) What is your hair color?
It used to be brown. Now it is more gray than brown.
88) Eye color?
Hazel.
89) Do you wear glasses?
I have worn glasses since I was 4 years old. And I tried to wear contacts and HATED them. Could not stand to put things in my eye. So, now I have several frames: cat eye frames, John Lennon frames, Harry Potter frames,dark green frames, horn rimmed frames and confetti frames.
90) Siblings?
Three sisters. Two older. One younger.
91) Favorite month?
October. I love the colors of Autumn and it is FOOTBALL SEASON!!
92) Do you like sushi?
HATE it. I dislike ALL fish except for tuna.
93) Last thing you watched on television?
Hmm..okay. This is going to sound terrible. Last night I was up late and channel surfing and stumbled on this horrible porn movie on Cinemax. Since it was Cinemax, it was not hard core porn, just a really, really idiotic plot (three couples are out camping and one couple gets kidnapped by some crazy mutant sex crazed huge breasted women...I am not kidding...their breasts looked like bouncing bowling balls and one of the women kept saying, "I want to lay on the herrth with you and make you happy." I could not figure out what the hell she meant until I realized that she meant HEARTH but hey, who cares when you have breasts that are so stuffed with silicone that they bounce like super balls when you pretend to be fucking some guy who looks like he is 20 years older than you?) and finally I just could not stand to hear this guy pretending to NOT want to fuck because "it's too soon...we just did it!" when I knew that soon he would be behind her like a big dog with his bitch and she would have her mouth open wide while her breasts bounced crazily and he kept humping and grimacing. So..I turned it to a documentary on New York City.
94) Favorite day of the year?
Thanksgiving.Best food EVER. And my sister is a gourmet cook and we go to her house for dinner every year.
95) Are you too shy to ask someone out?
Interesting. No, I don't think I would be, but the truth is that I have never done the asking. I have always been the recipient.
96) Summer or Winter?
Neither. Spring or Fall is fine, though.
97) Kisses or hugs?
Depends on who we are talking about. But, in general, hugs. I really, really HATE tongue baths.
98) Relationships or One night stands?
Honestly? I am better suited to a one night stand, but since I am in a relationship, I admit to rather liking belonging to someone and having her belong to me. Never, ever thought I would say that, but there you go. I am domesticated.
99) Who is your favorite celebrity?
It changes depending on my mood. I like Lee DeWyze, Johnny Depp, Chloe Svegny, Laura Dern, Laura Linney, Jon Bon Jovi and Jimmy Fallon.
100) Books you'd like to see turned into a film?
Anything by Jonathan Tropper.
And I am out of here to go shower and watch the MTV awards and maybe have a pop tart.
And try to get to bed early since 6 a.m. is going to come SO SO quickly tomorrow.
First e-mail from Bing.
Hi, honey,
You would like my room here in Berlin. It is small, functional and no nonsense. There is no air conditioning, but the weather doesn't warrant it and the German people see themselves as a sturdy lot and very environmentally keen. You would love sleeping with the windows open. We don't get to do that too much at home, do we? It seems like we go from the frost of Winter to the steam of Summer in one fell swoop.
We received our updated itinerary and it is much more detailed than the one I left with you, it is paper so I can't send it to you, but I can tell you that it is not nearly as "breezy" as the one I left for you. Our time is much more structured and for that, I am glad.
I went to a small general store and was so pleased. NOTHING was made in China. NOTHING. Fancy a vegetable brush? It is one euro and superbly made. The socks are made in Germany, not China. I like the order of this place, very clean and as I said before, functional.
We are going on a trip around the city today, have been cautioned to wear comfortable attire. Absolutely no private transportation at all on this trip. We either walk or take a bus or what you would refer to as a subway. They call it something else here, but can't recall the word now.
I haven't eaten a lot of the food here but this may take some getting used to as it looks a bit heavy for my taste. No light, frothy salads for me, I suppose. I will return home to you a sturdy, plump German wife. And the coffee? You would be in heaven, Maggie mine. It is rich and smooth and so succulent. And now I am dreaming of you, so best to get out with my group!
I love you,
me
You would like my room here in Berlin. It is small, functional and no nonsense. There is no air conditioning, but the weather doesn't warrant it and the German people see themselves as a sturdy lot and very environmentally keen. You would love sleeping with the windows open. We don't get to do that too much at home, do we? It seems like we go from the frost of Winter to the steam of Summer in one fell swoop.
We received our updated itinerary and it is much more detailed than the one I left with you, it is paper so I can't send it to you, but I can tell you that it is not nearly as "breezy" as the one I left for you. Our time is much more structured and for that, I am glad.
I went to a small general store and was so pleased. NOTHING was made in China. NOTHING. Fancy a vegetable brush? It is one euro and superbly made. The socks are made in Germany, not China. I like the order of this place, very clean and as I said before, functional.
We are going on a trip around the city today, have been cautioned to wear comfortable attire. Absolutely no private transportation at all on this trip. We either walk or take a bus or what you would refer to as a subway. They call it something else here, but can't recall the word now.
I haven't eaten a lot of the food here but this may take some getting used to as it looks a bit heavy for my taste. No light, frothy salads for me, I suppose. I will return home to you a sturdy, plump German wife. And the coffee? You would be in heaven, Maggie mine. It is rich and smooth and so succulent. And now I am dreaming of you, so best to get out with my group!
I love you,
me
Saturday, June 04, 2011
And then there were none.
The last two days have been full of goodbyes. I took Friday off in order to drive Bing to the airport and to spend Liv's last day home together.
The best laid plans.....
I awakened at 5 a.m. yesterday with a migraine. A bad one. I could barely lift my head up and when I did, the urge to throw up was immediate.
So, Bing's last look at me for a month and half was me with my head in the toilet as she came in to say goodbye so Tinton and Liv could take her to the airport. I waved her off, told her NOT to kiss me but she did anyway. She is made of stern stuff, that one. And then I crawled back to bed where I stayed until this morning when I got up, gingerly to take Liv and Tinton to the airport at the bright hour of 7 a.m.
Now, I am alone in the house, save for the dog, feeling a little wobbly legged from the migraine, but at least the pain is gone.
I immediately planned out my day. Books to take back to the library, letters to mail, groceries to buy, laundry to do.
But, instead, I sat at the kitchen table looking forlornly out the window into the mugginess of this June day.
I know that, in time, I will be fine. But, right now I feel lonely. Bing took care of so many things before she left, she made sure that all the air conditioners (we live in a very old house...no central air) were cleaned and pumped full of whatever the crap goes in them to run properly. She did all the laundry. She filled the car with gas and called a lawn service to mow the lawn while she was gone so I wouldn't have to do it.
But, still. I am furious with her.
I sat at the table, fuming. WHY does she have to go away every summer? Last year, it was Japan and then Africa. She was gone ALL summer. I know, I know...she won a Fulbright Scholarship and that is a big deal. But..WHY does she have to work so hard to leave every summer? I asked her this once and she sat quietly for a moment and then said, "I dunno. I guess I'm just feeling my age, you know? I feel like I am 52 years old and I won't be able to travel like this forever. I might as well see as much of the world as I can!"
Funny. I am her age and I feel no such compulsion to travel. In fact, I would much prefer to be at home with my books, my garden, my family. The truth is, that with my rheumatoid arthritis and Meniere's syndrome, traveling can be difficult. So, I have become a nester, I suppose. But, in truth, I love it. I don't mind....staying put. I just wish that she would enjoy staying put too.
I was rummaging through her desk drawers this morning, looking for her itinerary, which she told me she had left on my desk, but I couldn't find it. I found a note from her friend, Peggy. I may have mentioned thiscreepy bitch woman before. Peggy was Bing's work out partner until about a year ago. Bing had finally come to the conclusion (I was WAY ahead of her on this one) that Peggy had a crush on her and that maybe seeing her was becoming a bad idea. So, she carefully and gently broke things off with her. They still saw each other infrequently as they both teach for the same district. Sometimes I would be with Bing when this would happen and it annoyed the hell out of me seeing Peggy watching Bing with what looked like...hunger...all over her face. Bing, of course, didn't notice it. On one truthful night in bed, Bing had confessed to me that she had cut things off with Peggy too, because she had sensed that she used her sometimes.
"You can be really hard to live with, Maria," she had said. "And sometimes, okay..it was kind of nice to be around someone who so clearly thought that I hung the moon. It was like...everything I said or did, Peggy found so clever, so funny, so damn smart. I guess my ego needed her to a certain degree and when I realized that, I decided that she was probably a danger to our marriage and I decided to stop seeing her, even though I never thought of her as more than a friend."
Well, there was a note in Bing's drawer. A new one. It was a hand written note, dated June 1. It said, "I'll miss you while you're gone!! Maybe we can go biking when you get back, okay aray? Did you find the Reece's bar that I left on your desk at work? I know how you crave peanut butter when you are away from home!! So, send me oodles of texts while your (sic) gone, pretty pleez!!??? And don't come home only able to speak German, okay!!?? XXXOOO P
I sat fingering the note, questions all over the place. Why had Bing saved this? Were they seeing each other again? Why on earth did that idiotic woman have to put exclamation points after each and every sentence like that? How old was she? 14?????!!!! And, why did she know that Bing craved peanut butter and I didn't?
I put the note back and walked out of the room. Later I would sit down to check my e-mail and would find the itinerary right where Bing said she left it. Later still, I would be checking the freezer to see if I needed to stock up on ice cream and I would find Reece's peanut butter cups, 4 cup size tucked in the back.
Trust is important in any relationship, so I decided to tuck this into my brain and talk about this when she got back. No jumping to conclusions.
But, for now...I feel bereft, adrift.
I remember last summer well. I did well after a time. But the first few days were the worst. I remember coming home from work and feeling the quietness, the emptiness of the house. Bing, who cannot be home without a television or a cd playing. Liv, who always had her school books spread out on the dining room table or the living room floor.
I remember hanging on to Lee DeWyze's music like a life raft. Playing his Slumberland and So I'm Told cds over and over while I lay in the Adirondack chair outside, ear buds tucked in, Socks splayed across my lap, a drippy ice filled glass of iced tea next to me.
I quickly became accustomed to a television that was only turned on once a day and that was to hear the 10 o'clock news. The rest of the time I spent in my garden or reading. I had thought that I would spend lots of time blogging with no foot tapping Bing asking me if I was going to come snuggle with her and watch some TV, but surprisingly, I only checked in on my blog about once or twice a week. It was as if I went into a slumber of my own, a lazy pattern to my days of work and coming home and slipping into shorts and a tee shirt to go weed my garden and then lay in the soft summer night, my book by my side, Lee DeWyze in my ears, a dog in my lap. Like some old soft Chad and Jeremy song.
I would go grocery shopping later and this too, would be a change. I would buy several boxes of cereal, knowing that my eating habits would go out the window with Bing gone and no role model to be for Liv. Many, many nights would be spent eating a bowl of Lucky Charms instead of a green, leafy salad. The dishwasher would only be run when I ran out of spoons or cereal bowls since there would be no other plates or utensils to fill it up.
I am lucky to be in this age of electronics, I know this. I can text Liv and Bing, e-mail, talk on the phone whenever I wish even though they are so far away. Liv, particularly will check in daily and I will hold the receiver close to my ear, feeling my throat tighten when I hear her voice say, "Mama?" It will not be as urgent with Bing. She and I are neither of us, the romantic types. She will call (or more likely text since it is cheaper and she is always, always, always money conscious) and we will share our days, leaving out the lengthier funny stories. We will say/write a breezy "I love you!" before we sign off. She will sometimes confess that she is missing me, missing my mouth, my laugh, the sound of my voice. I have always been less needy, not one to talk of missing her, although, privately, there will be times in the day when I ache for her. I am not one to talk sexy on the phone or even admit to my aching for her. I'm not built that way and she knows this, accepts this.
I had one scary moment of crazy worry as I sat at the kitchen table, looking out at all my house plants scattered around the back deck, necks straining towards the summer sun.
What if there is some sort of nuclear bomb or something and the world closes down? I would probably never see either Liv or Bing again. Liv would be safe (well as safe as one can be in this sort of scenario) with her father in France. Bing would be in Berlin. I would be here. On the prairie. The chances of us ever making it back to each other would be nil. No. Liv would end her days with her father, Bing would probably learn to speak fluent German and settle in for the end of her days there. And me? I would be some crazy woman in an old house in the heartland of America. All alone with a dog and some vegetables that were probably unsafe to eat now. I would end my days sitting in chairs, fingering pictures of my loved ones, my wife, my child. My world. Alone.
STOP! Stop. Stop. Now.
I got to my feet and looked around. I needed to change my sheets. I would put the sky blue ones on, those felt so nice on Summer nights. I would change Liv's sheets too since my sisters will be coming in to visit next weekend to go see WICKED with Patrice and me and then on to a cousin's lunch and then a birthday party for our 90 year old aunt. I would go grocery shopping and buy my cereal, maybe buy a quart of that Starbucks coffee ice cream that I like so much. Get some things that Bing never buys: potato chips, lunch meat, Stouffers TV dinners. I would go and buy a bottle of chandelier cleaner and get to work on our ancient chandelier over the dining room table. I would make it glisten again. Give Socks a bath in the chipped sink in the basement, luring him down there would be the problem. He is too big to be carried now and too smart to be lured with a hot dog the way that he used to be. Maybe I would pick up a butcher's bone for him at the market and use that....
Lots to do. No need to be lonely.
My phone rings. It is Bing. I am surprised. She had said not to expect many phone calls, too expensive.
I pick it up.
Me: Hi...
Bing: Hi, sweets. I just...I know it sounds silly, I just said goodbye to you..but I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know it will be a long day for you without Livvy. Are you feeling better?
Me: Yes. Much. Thanks.
Bing: It's only been a day and all I could think was that I wanted to hear your voice. Silly, huh?
Me: No.No. I just...Bing?
Bing: Yeah?
Me: I found a note from Peggy in your desk...
WHY DID I SAY THAT? I HAD DECIDED NOT TO DO THIS UNTIL SHE GOT BACK!
Bing: Oh, that. I found it on my desk at school. It's nothing, honey. I get those every once in awhile from her. And okay, there was this giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup with it. I put it in the freezer. Go ahead and eat it if you want. But, not all at once, okay? Don't want to put you in a diabetic coma.
Silence.
Bing: Honey?
Me: Yeah? I guess I was....jealous.
Bing: Are you kidding me? You? Jealous?
She is chuckling. So, I chuckle too.
Bing: Baby, no. Just no. She's just this lonely woman and maybe a little needy and stupid. Nothing. Toss the note. I should have. I'm sorry you found that.
Me: Okay. Hey, are you having fun yet?
Bing: Right now I am totally jet lagged. Totally. It feels like late morning and it is almost nighttime here. And, Maria? I'm missing you. So much. I know it sounds dumb. I just left! But..I did something kind of goofy.
Me: What? I like goofy sometimes....
Bing: I should go, this is expensive. But...just check your e-mail, okay? I sent you a song. A drippy one. Because I miss you. I know I WANTED to go but I just...wish you were here too, okay?
Me: Ok.
Bing: Bye, baby. I love you.
Me: Bye, honey. I...love you too.
So, I went to check e-mail and there it was.
I suppose I need to dry my tears and get up and do something useful now....
One foot in front of the other...
The best laid plans.....
I awakened at 5 a.m. yesterday with a migraine. A bad one. I could barely lift my head up and when I did, the urge to throw up was immediate.
So, Bing's last look at me for a month and half was me with my head in the toilet as she came in to say goodbye so Tinton and Liv could take her to the airport. I waved her off, told her NOT to kiss me but she did anyway. She is made of stern stuff, that one. And then I crawled back to bed where I stayed until this morning when I got up, gingerly to take Liv and Tinton to the airport at the bright hour of 7 a.m.
Now, I am alone in the house, save for the dog, feeling a little wobbly legged from the migraine, but at least the pain is gone.
I immediately planned out my day. Books to take back to the library, letters to mail, groceries to buy, laundry to do.
But, instead, I sat at the kitchen table looking forlornly out the window into the mugginess of this June day.
I know that, in time, I will be fine. But, right now I feel lonely. Bing took care of so many things before she left, she made sure that all the air conditioners (we live in a very old house...no central air) were cleaned and pumped full of whatever the crap goes in them to run properly. She did all the laundry. She filled the car with gas and called a lawn service to mow the lawn while she was gone so I wouldn't have to do it.
But, still. I am furious with her.
I sat at the table, fuming. WHY does she have to go away every summer? Last year, it was Japan and then Africa. She was gone ALL summer. I know, I know...she won a Fulbright Scholarship and that is a big deal. But..WHY does she have to work so hard to leave every summer? I asked her this once and she sat quietly for a moment and then said, "I dunno. I guess I'm just feeling my age, you know? I feel like I am 52 years old and I won't be able to travel like this forever. I might as well see as much of the world as I can!"
Funny. I am her age and I feel no such compulsion to travel. In fact, I would much prefer to be at home with my books, my garden, my family. The truth is, that with my rheumatoid arthritis and Meniere's syndrome, traveling can be difficult. So, I have become a nester, I suppose. But, in truth, I love it. I don't mind....staying put. I just wish that she would enjoy staying put too.
I was rummaging through her desk drawers this morning, looking for her itinerary, which she told me she had left on my desk, but I couldn't find it. I found a note from her friend, Peggy. I may have mentioned this
"You can be really hard to live with, Maria," she had said. "And sometimes, okay..it was kind of nice to be around someone who so clearly thought that I hung the moon. It was like...everything I said or did, Peggy found so clever, so funny, so damn smart. I guess my ego needed her to a certain degree and when I realized that, I decided that she was probably a danger to our marriage and I decided to stop seeing her, even though I never thought of her as more than a friend."
Well, there was a note in Bing's drawer. A new one. It was a hand written note, dated June 1. It said, "I'll miss you while you're gone!! Maybe we can go biking when you get back, okay aray? Did you find the Reece's bar that I left on your desk at work? I know how you crave peanut butter when you are away from home!! So, send me oodles of texts while your (sic) gone, pretty pleez!!??? And don't come home only able to speak German, okay!!?? XXXOOO P
I sat fingering the note, questions all over the place. Why had Bing saved this? Were they seeing each other again? Why on earth did that idiotic woman have to put exclamation points after each and every sentence like that? How old was she? 14?????!!!! And, why did she know that Bing craved peanut butter and I didn't?
I put the note back and walked out of the room. Later I would sit down to check my e-mail and would find the itinerary right where Bing said she left it. Later still, I would be checking the freezer to see if I needed to stock up on ice cream and I would find Reece's peanut butter cups, 4 cup size tucked in the back.
Trust is important in any relationship, so I decided to tuck this into my brain and talk about this when she got back. No jumping to conclusions.
But, for now...I feel bereft, adrift.
I remember last summer well. I did well after a time. But the first few days were the worst. I remember coming home from work and feeling the quietness, the emptiness of the house. Bing, who cannot be home without a television or a cd playing. Liv, who always had her school books spread out on the dining room table or the living room floor.
I remember hanging on to Lee DeWyze's music like a life raft. Playing his Slumberland and So I'm Told cds over and over while I lay in the Adirondack chair outside, ear buds tucked in, Socks splayed across my lap, a drippy ice filled glass of iced tea next to me.
I quickly became accustomed to a television that was only turned on once a day and that was to hear the 10 o'clock news. The rest of the time I spent in my garden or reading. I had thought that I would spend lots of time blogging with no foot tapping Bing asking me if I was going to come snuggle with her and watch some TV, but surprisingly, I only checked in on my blog about once or twice a week. It was as if I went into a slumber of my own, a lazy pattern to my days of work and coming home and slipping into shorts and a tee shirt to go weed my garden and then lay in the soft summer night, my book by my side, Lee DeWyze in my ears, a dog in my lap. Like some old soft Chad and Jeremy song.
I would go grocery shopping later and this too, would be a change. I would buy several boxes of cereal, knowing that my eating habits would go out the window with Bing gone and no role model to be for Liv. Many, many nights would be spent eating a bowl of Lucky Charms instead of a green, leafy salad. The dishwasher would only be run when I ran out of spoons or cereal bowls since there would be no other plates or utensils to fill it up.
I am lucky to be in this age of electronics, I know this. I can text Liv and Bing, e-mail, talk on the phone whenever I wish even though they are so far away. Liv, particularly will check in daily and I will hold the receiver close to my ear, feeling my throat tighten when I hear her voice say, "Mama?" It will not be as urgent with Bing. She and I are neither of us, the romantic types. She will call (or more likely text since it is cheaper and she is always, always, always money conscious) and we will share our days, leaving out the lengthier funny stories. We will say/write a breezy "I love you!" before we sign off. She will sometimes confess that she is missing me, missing my mouth, my laugh, the sound of my voice. I have always been less needy, not one to talk of missing her, although, privately, there will be times in the day when I ache for her. I am not one to talk sexy on the phone or even admit to my aching for her. I'm not built that way and she knows this, accepts this.
I had one scary moment of crazy worry as I sat at the kitchen table, looking out at all my house plants scattered around the back deck, necks straining towards the summer sun.
What if there is some sort of nuclear bomb or something and the world closes down? I would probably never see either Liv or Bing again. Liv would be safe (well as safe as one can be in this sort of scenario) with her father in France. Bing would be in Berlin. I would be here. On the prairie. The chances of us ever making it back to each other would be nil. No. Liv would end her days with her father, Bing would probably learn to speak fluent German and settle in for the end of her days there. And me? I would be some crazy woman in an old house in the heartland of America. All alone with a dog and some vegetables that were probably unsafe to eat now. I would end my days sitting in chairs, fingering pictures of my loved ones, my wife, my child. My world. Alone.
STOP! Stop. Stop. Now.
I got to my feet and looked around. I needed to change my sheets. I would put the sky blue ones on, those felt so nice on Summer nights. I would change Liv's sheets too since my sisters will be coming in to visit next weekend to go see WICKED with Patrice and me and then on to a cousin's lunch and then a birthday party for our 90 year old aunt. I would go grocery shopping and buy my cereal, maybe buy a quart of that Starbucks coffee ice cream that I like so much. Get some things that Bing never buys: potato chips, lunch meat, Stouffers TV dinners. I would go and buy a bottle of chandelier cleaner and get to work on our ancient chandelier over the dining room table. I would make it glisten again. Give Socks a bath in the chipped sink in the basement, luring him down there would be the problem. He is too big to be carried now and too smart to be lured with a hot dog the way that he used to be. Maybe I would pick up a butcher's bone for him at the market and use that....
Lots to do. No need to be lonely.
My phone rings. It is Bing. I am surprised. She had said not to expect many phone calls, too expensive.
I pick it up.
Me: Hi...
Bing: Hi, sweets. I just...I know it sounds silly, I just said goodbye to you..but I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know it will be a long day for you without Livvy. Are you feeling better?
Me: Yes. Much. Thanks.
Bing: It's only been a day and all I could think was that I wanted to hear your voice. Silly, huh?
Me: No.No. I just...Bing?
Bing: Yeah?
Me: I found a note from Peggy in your desk...
WHY DID I SAY THAT? I HAD DECIDED NOT TO DO THIS UNTIL SHE GOT BACK!
Bing: Oh, that. I found it on my desk at school. It's nothing, honey. I get those every once in awhile from her. And okay, there was this giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup with it. I put it in the freezer. Go ahead and eat it if you want. But, not all at once, okay? Don't want to put you in a diabetic coma.
Silence.
Bing: Honey?
Me: Yeah? I guess I was....jealous.
Bing: Are you kidding me? You? Jealous?
She is chuckling. So, I chuckle too.
Bing: Baby, no. Just no. She's just this lonely woman and maybe a little needy and stupid. Nothing. Toss the note. I should have. I'm sorry you found that.
Me: Okay. Hey, are you having fun yet?
Bing: Right now I am totally jet lagged. Totally. It feels like late morning and it is almost nighttime here. And, Maria? I'm missing you. So much. I know it sounds dumb. I just left! But..I did something kind of goofy.
Me: What? I like goofy sometimes....
Bing: I should go, this is expensive. But...just check your e-mail, okay? I sent you a song. A drippy one. Because I miss you. I know I WANTED to go but I just...wish you were here too, okay?
Me: Ok.
Bing: Bye, baby. I love you.
Me: Bye, honey. I...love you too.
So, I went to check e-mail and there it was.
I suppose I need to dry my tears and get up and do something useful now....
One foot in front of the other...
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