Dear Blog Readers

Dear Blog Readers,
I do read all of your comments and e-mails. But, okay. You mystify me daily. I try to put out an interesting, compelling blog, but I am human and my life reflects that. I am sometimes dull. My life sometimes seems tediously dull to me and then something awful happens and I wish so badly that I could go back to my really dull life and just write about that rabbit in my yard instead of that big fight or some gnarly work problem.

I can't always figure you guys out. So, I went to my saved comments and e-mails and this is verbatim from...YOU.

Regarding Bing.

"I think you are way too hard on Bing."

"I think Bing sounds like she has OCD and I could never put up with that shit."

"Bing sounds like the perfect mate."

"Bing sounds like kind of a controlling bitch."

"Stop getting mad about her projects, I wish my wife took some initiative."

"I swear to god that if my husband took three YEARS to finish a bathroom, we would be divorced."

"Your and Bing's relationship sounds almost too good to be true."

"You guys fight a lot, don't you?"

Regarding Liv.

"You kind of brag too much about her."

"Hey, why aren't you writing about Liv much anymore?"

"Liv sounds like a robot child."

"Liv really needs you and I don't think you show her much affection."

"Liv sounds precocious. You need to tap that down early in a child or they are hell on wheels as teens."

"Liv sound so mature and wise. Lucky you!"

"Do you EVER have problems with Liv?"

"You seem to worry way too much about Liv and her school. Let her be."

Regarding everything else and the kitchen sink.

"You complain too much. I stopped reading your blog for a while because of that."

"God, is your life ever LESS than perfect?"

"You would be hard to live with, I think."

"I wish I lived with you. I want to fuck you really, really bad."

"You are way too sentimental."

"You are too logical. I can see why one of your old lovers accused you of being a Vulcan."

"I love the way you write."

"You write like you think you are better than everyone else."

"I love your politics."

"You are just another dimwitted Democrat who will ruin American life as we know it."

"I met you once and thought you were much prettier than I thought you'd be."

"I knew you in (insert name of town I grew up in) and believe me, you aren't that special."

"I love the music you put up on your blog."

"Your music kinda sucks. No offense."

"Do you and Bing ever have mediocre sex? Because you are always so moony about her that it is borderline nauseating."

"You and Bing are soooo much like me and my partner."

"You sound like a rich bitch."

"I like the way you hardly ever write about money."

"I think your gardening stories are really boring."

"I LOVE it when you write about your garden."

I get sick of your sainted Da stories."

"I LOVE your stories about Da and your sisters."

"I think your family sounds like a bunch of racist asses."

"I love the way you are so different from your sisters, but you all really love each other."

"I think you and Harriet should just fuck and get it over with it. C'mon, you know you want to."

"I wish I had a Harriet."

"I fell in love with your blog."

"I'm starting to get sick of your blog. Spice it up or you'll lose me."

Okay, youse guys...

MAKE UP YOUR MINDS!

I apologize to those of you who aren't interested in me or losing interest. I've never been much of a people pleaser, so go ahead and make your way to the door. Good luck to you.

Thank you to those who praise me. Thank you, too, to those who dislike me. Sometimes you piss me off and I go on a good rant and those are kind of healthy in a weird way.

I just write what is happening in my life, folks and how I feel about being a 50 something woman who is mourning her youthful looks and body, who loves her partner and sometimes wants to sell her to the highest bidder, who can't believe she has a daughter who seems to be an old soul.

I write about what is going on with me, my family and my world.

If I bore you, go home. Don't stop by. Go do something you love instead. Life is too short to waste it on people who bore you.

If you like me and my blog, come in and sit down. I have green tea. Want some? I also have those really good almond cookies. But don't think I baked them.

Thanks for being here. But...wow....

I just can't please all of you, so I think I will just go on being me.

It isn't easy being green, you know. But, I do try....

Off to see the wizard...

Well, Liv and I are all packed. We leave bright and early tomorrow to go to the little town where I grew up in Iowa. I think it has been about two years since I've been back.

Funny...I used to always call it home but now...absolutely not.  Home is Bing. My little town is more like...that place where I grew up and couldn't wait to leave.

It's always hard for me, although I am so old now that I am no longer seen as that Last Name girl who broke her mother's heart by going lesbian.  I swear, my mother felt like she could barely hold her head up when word got out that Maria had went girl gone wild and was not only living in sin...but living in sin with a.....GASP...woman!

After my mother died and I would go back to visit my other sisters, Jessie and Celia, there would always be the stares from mostly older women. It is a very small town and my mother was one of the saints in her church, always coming in and volunteering to dust the pews, always saw that there were fresh flowers on the altar. Word spreads like wildfire in a small town and I think she found it very hard to bear the shame of having one of her girls turn into what, in her eyes, was right next door to Satan worship.

Now, I go and no one really remembers me, but I still sometimes feel like Boo Radley.

Liv, as far as I know, just enjoys herself with her cousins.

But me? It's hard, difficult. The farm has long been sold, but sometimes we drive out to see how it's doing and when we pull in that driveway, my stomach goes a little tight. The last time I was in that house was when my mother stood at the back door holding it open wide and telling me that she would never allow me back in and to get out THIS INSTANT!

Her last words to me at that door were: "I will never forgive you for shaming me like this. Don't even think about coming back until you go to the priest and beg for forgiveness. Make a penance for your sins."

So, instead of remembering the sweet smell of alfalfa and the wonderful times with my family as I grew up, I just see that door and me stumbling out of it, tears blinding me.

But, I visit. I visit. And each time, it hurts less. But, I never can really forget it, you know? And I know it sounds stubborn and headstrong...but there is this part of me that just wants to show everyone that...that...that...

I DID NOT BACK DOWN.

That I kept my head up and lived my life as well as I could and that I think I did pretty well for myself.

But, on Monday...when Liv and I head back....there will be a small part of me that is glad to have it behind me.  But, I will also look out the rear view window as my little town grows smaller and smaller and I will remember dancing with my sisters, wearing dish towels on our heads and singing,

Dominique....inique....iniquen.






And my first kiss. My first date. My good grades. Riding on the bus to the away football games. Prom. My high school friends. Sunday dinners with my family.

Da.

But, for now...chin up. Time to go visit my sisters. I want Liv to know her family and I want to show that I'm still standing.

Better than I ever was.....Be back Monday evening.....have a great weekend.

Wish me luck?

Kiss

Oh,sweetie.
I just had to kiss you. You walked in the door last night so weary, so exhausted from a long day of work followed by a long workout at the gym. Well, ok......I know, it's not a gym. Let's just call it what it is. It's re-hab. A place you say is full of old people with back problems. But the towels are fluffy and the whole place is shiny clean and you like that.

Maria, there is an 80 year old woman who zips through our water exercises and makes me look like a decrepit idiot. I just HATE feeling so weak and helpless.

So, I waited until you put your bags away and then I came up to you in the kitchen, made good eye contact and then took your face in my hands and kissed you. The kind of long, searching kiss that has been missing with us for a while. The kind of kiss that, when it was over, made you take a step back and smile at me, a little dazed.

I planned it that way. I just....love you so much. And it kills me to see you so broken and tired, one hand on your back, rubbing it like a worry stone. I know that you're scared. That you'll never ride your motorcycle again or your bike. That you'll never get up early to run outside with Socks again, your running shoes slap slapping against the pavement.

I understand. I do. I've had to let so many things go over the years due to this fucking rheumatoid arthritis. Remember when I started crying because I told you I was only 50 years old and had to walk with a cane? And you told me that it wasn't forever and you were right, it wasn't. Well, there are no guarantees, honey. This back problem had no clear beginning, so we aren't sure how it will end. But, we will get through it.

Us. This team of me and you.

I'm so glad we went to bed early last night. 8:15. Wasn't it great, though? Re-connecting. Talking. Loving. Stroking. Heating up and then cooling down. Laughing softly. Nuzzling.

I meant it when I said that I've never had anyone love me so perfectly. That I felt like you rescued me from myself. Left to my own devices, I would have built those walls higher and higher, never knowing that the only way to feel safe was to let someone in. Someone like you.

Thank you for the husky neediness in your voice as you reached out for me. The way you and I are like some crazy patch quilt that no one thinks will look right but somehow is the warmest one in the house.

I want to sink into you like a stone in clear water.

You. Just you. The lid to my pot that I swore I didn't need or want and then fit perfectly.

I fought us tooth and nail and now I see that all along it was you, only you who could have found a way into my bruisy, hurting heart and soldered it together again. With yours beating right next to it, in perfect time.

A tilled garden and "Bully."

Bing has had a messed up back since December.  Our lives have changed a lot because of this. Bing is our house muscle. She brings up the Christmas boxes from the basement in December and takes them back down in January. She flips our mattresses every six weeks. She carries in the groceries for me, is our designated driver everywhere.

That all changed in December when she started having unexplained back problems. It grew worse to the point where she had to sleep in the guest room each night because she had to get up and walk every few hours, couldn't stand the pain.

Now, a few months later, she is better but not fully back. We have someone else mow the yard. Liv and I have become expert mattress flippers. We also brought up the Christmas decorations and took them down. We bring in the groceries.

I had been worrying about getting my garden tilled. Bing tills it every Spring for me and when I brought it up, she said she'd figure something out.

Yesterday, she told me that she had a solution. She was going to have three kids from one of her classes come over and do it and in payment, she would pay their way to a movie and take them out for pizza. They had agreed on the documentary, Bully. Parents had to be asked for permission and that was achieved.

So, early this morning, we had two strong guys and one strong girl till the garden. The soil was perfectly ready. We had rain last week, but not too much, so the soil was very tillable. It took them less than an hour. Bing supervised and then they all came in and messed around with Bing's cameras and music instruments until it was time for the movie.

Liv peeked out shyly at them when they came in. I noticed that she was careful to be fully dressed with hair perfectly pulled back in a pony tail before she even came downstairs. They drew her in skillfully, asking her to jam with them on her violin as one boy played piano while another played drums and the girl played guitar. They seemed to have a good time. Bing is good with high school kids, me not so much.

And then we all jumped into the van to go to see the movie, Bully.

I was surprised at how crowded the theater was. And astounded at how much high school boys eat. But we all settled in and there was a small discussion of whether the song, Someone I Used To Know was a brilliant piece of genius (YES) or just a fluke. Then the lights dimmed.

I was drawn in immediately, sitting in between Bing and Liv. You could have heard a pin drop as the screen filled with an anguished father's face talking about the suicide of his son. Then old home movies were played of this sweet little boy as a giggling toddler being tickled by his father, taught to ride a bike and watching video games.

And then back to his watery eyed father talking about how other boys stole his clothes in gym and his son had no way to leave, no towels were left for him either and he had to stand shivering and naked, hoping someone would wander back in and then, god...have to be seen naked in order to get help.

Other bully stories were told. I thought that Bing was going to get up and storm out as we were forced to watch a completely clueless and imbecilic middle school assistant principal force a child being tormented by another to "shake hands and be friends, say sorry now!" to his bullier.  And when parents came to see this dumbass educator after they received footage of their son being stabbed with pencils, strangled and slapped around by bullies on the bus, she sweetly informed them that she had sat in on that bus many, many times and "They are as good as gold!"

Right. Like they are going to act up with the assistant principal on board.

And after the bewildered and astonished parents had to endure her idiotic assurances that "Boys will be boys!"....she then further disrespected them by pulling out photos of her grandchildren to show them.

"Yes, those are my babies!" she said, proudly. As if this is what they had come to talk about with her.

Bing and I looked at each other incredulously.

The documentary is powerful and not meant for the faint of heart. It raises horribly difficult questions.

I looked down at Liv towards the end of the movie and saw tears streaming down her face.

As we walked to the car, I leaned in close to her and asked her if she had any bullies at her school. She gave me a long look before she answered.

"When I went to Montessori," she said. "NO. No bullying was ever allowed. But, this year at St. Stan's? Yeah, there are a few bullies."

I asked her if she was bullied.

"Not anymore," she said. "I just laughed, rolled my eyes and made fun of their limited vocabulary and they backed off, " she said. "But, yeah....a few kids get bullied, especially the boys, but some of the girls too. You know my friend, Aaron?"

I nodded.

"He used to be bullied all the time because he is so small but then he built a rocket last year and won the science fair and he said that it must have bought him respect or something, because they left him alone after that."

We were at the car, so no time to discuss it further until Bing dropped us home. But, we all talked about it and all three of the high school students admitted that while they'd never personally experienced bullying, that they'd witnessed it.

"You don't want to step in to defend the person, though," the lone girl said. "If you do that, it could turn to bullying you, you know?"

I thought about that. We all agreed that the middle school assistant principal was a total idiot, but the kids seemed to think this was a common occurrence.

"The higher you get up the high school administrative chain, the more clueless they get," they commented.

They all agreed that Bing's classroom, also known in the school as Narnia, is bully free. In fact, they said that Ms. Bing actually had a big sign next to the front door that says, "No bullying allowed. All who enter here are persons of great value."

I smiled.  That is SO like her.

After Bing dropped Liv and me off at the house while she went to keep her promise about providing pizza, I asked Liv to sit down on the sofa with me to talk.

She groaned.

This is the new Liv, the junior high model. The grade school Liv would have jumped into my lap like a frisky puppy. This Liv is less eager to talk, discuss. More prone to "I vant to be ALONE!"

But, I felt it was important. Pointed to my watch. Said I needed 15 minutes tops. My new junior high Liv actually checked the time on my watch and said it out loud before she sat down.

"So," I asked her. "What did you originally get bullied about?"

Liv looked askance, didn't answer. Pulled a pillow up to hug.

I waited.

Finally, she whispered, "You know."

I took a breath. "Because of me?" I asked her. "Because of Bing and me being partners?"

She nodded. "I was pretty stupid, even though you warned me it might come up. I mean, I was just used to Montessori, how nobody cared about stuff like that. And I wasn't the only one who had two parents of the same sex. And, I mean, I thought this being a CATHOLIC school, you know...that they would be more....Christian...and stuff."

I felt my stomach roil.

"Was it awful?" I asked.

She looked at me carefully. Finally decided to tell the truth.

"Well, yeah, at first. I mean, it was bad enough that I was the only seventh grader who made the  varsity basketball team and some of those girls were really really mad at me since I beat out their friend. One of them asked me if I was a lesbo like my mother. Another asked me how it felt to know that my mother was going straight to hell when she died. It was nasty."

I thought of that first month of school when Liv was so withdrawn, so quiet, so needy, so shaky. Of the endless discussions Bing and I had about just yanking her out of this school. But, Liv had been adamant about staying, sticking it out.

I asked her why she did that, why she didn't just ask us to move her to a different school.

Liv took another big breath.

"I figured it was a fight I would probably have in most schools, I mean...bigots are everywhere, right? So, I just decided to stay put. Besides, you had WARNED me and I hadn't listened and if I chickened out, well...you would have been right and me wrong."

We both smiled. She is a chip off the old block. We both detest being proven wrong about anything.

Liv shrugged. "And then, well....I made friends with Aaron, Leah and Molly and we were kind of a band of nerds. It helped to have friends. And then when Brandy was making fun of me one day, asking me if I liked watching all the other girls on the team take showers, I just took her on. She has this sibilant s, so she sort of hisses her s's and I asked her to repeat the word showers but maybe she could speak without hissing her s. It was mean, I know...but she shut up right away and then when we were at lunch, I walked by the mean girls table and one of them said Don't even think of sitting here, LIZ and I just laughed and told them that I didn't feel like having Cassandra getting her bad breath all over my sandwich or Brandy hissing her s's and spitting, so no worries. So...one more shut up. And then, I started being a valid member of the basketball team and the rest of the girls started telling them to shut up whenever they made fun of me, so...well...I was lucky. Not all kids are lucky, Mama and not all kids grow up with a mother who models snappy comeback lines either. I'm not proud of how I behaved, but it did shut them up."

I sat there with my heart in my throat. It isn't as if I hadn't seen this coming. From the day she was born, I worried that she'd be hurt by others because of me. I just...it's hard to explain. And I kept thinking ridiculous things like why on earth would a Catholic family name their child Brandy? I mean...really?

Liv asked if we were finished talking and I said yes. She got up to go watch television while I made us grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner.

But, I will think about this movie for a long time. I think every parent, every student, every teacher and every administrator should see this. Especially parents with children named Brandy who make a sport of bullying other children.

So, what do you think about bullying? Were you ever bullied? And if so, how did you handle it?

Getting Serious #4

What should you make time to do every day?

Relax. I have days that are so crazy that when I get into bed at night, my brain just keeps buzzing. When I consciously make time to relax, everything works and feels better.

What's something that is hard to forget?

An insult. When someone insults you, it stirs something up. As in Rae's comment that it was a pity that a good writer like me should have such a "potty mouth"...I made a joke about it, but it stung. As it was meant to. Target hit.

What's something that easily distracts you?

The internet. I sometimes go on right before bed to check e-mail and I end up clicking on silly stories about the seven best jobs for shy people or how to save 100$ a month and not have it bother you. And before I know it, Bing is standing sleepily at the door asking me if I'm ever coming to bed.

What have you had the urge to do lately?

Hermit. I go through these times. I just want to go to work, come home and be with my family. Read. Walk the dog. Have nowhere that I need to go and nothing that I need to do. I don't answer the phone, don't answer e-mails or texts. This usually coincides with weeks that are particularly busy...like this upcoming week. I am taking Harriet out for dinner on Tuesday for her birthday, going to see Fiddler on The Roof on Wednesday with my sister, taking my niece out on Thursday for her birthday and then  Liv and I are leaving on Friday after work to go to the small town where I grew up to spend the weekend with my two sisters and their families.  Too freakin' busy.

If you were to die at midnight, what would you be doing at 11:45?

Laying in Bing's arms.

If you could make a 30 second speech to the entire world, what would you say?

Do the right thing. Whenever you have a decision to make, ask yourself not how it helps/hurts others but is it the right thing to do. Just do the right thing. Easy.

What memory will you cherish for the rest of your life?

Singing the vegetable garden to sleep on sultry summer nights with Liv.

What makes friendship last a lifetime?

Same as a marriage. Trust.

What's your #1 tip for being happy?

Pick a good partner, loyal friends and build a family with those you love not those who share your blood. (If they are both, it's cool. )

What's something many people mistakenly assume about you?

On my blog: that readers think we would be good friends in "real life." Trust me, I'm not easy to be friends with and I am not nearly as warm as I seem.  I've met 5 people who've read my blog. 2 of them told me that I was "way different" than I sound on my blog. Not nearly as accessible or nice, I suspect. Two others got along well with me but said that I was certainly correct about being " aloof." The fifth one became a good friend because we both have the same sense of humor. He told me that we were a couple of freaks and wasn't that nice? It is. It is.

Outside of my blog: Most people are pretty surprised when they find out that I am partnered with a woman. I get the "you don't look gay" comment a lot. A lot.

What word best describes the way you've spent the past year of your life?

Hurrying.

Where do you find strength?

In a sort of meditation. I do it when I walk the dog. I problem solve, dip into problems and try to come up with workable solutions. Listen to that voice in my head that has never steered me wrong, if I just take the time to LISTEN.

What's an important relationship truth that people often forget?

There are days when you will want to leave. There are days when your partner will want to leave. The key is to dig your heels in and hang on, if you can.

I need to practice______ more often.

Self control. Thinking before speaking is always better than blurting everything out.

What makes you feel complete?

I hate to say this because it sounds so cheese ass, but it is Bing. I always felt like someone who got lost in a crowd until she found me. We are completely different people, personalities, but I have never felt so connected with anyone else. She gets me. She just does. And I get her. And against the odds, we are rowing the same boat.

What's a simple truth people often forget?

We are all connected. Yes, I am even connected to my blog stalker, although I wish that she would find someone else to focus on. And the thought of being even remotely close to her sort of makes me want to throw up. But, can't deny it. I am as connected to her as I am to everyone. Connected to Charles Manson too. Also connected to Obama. I LIKE that connection and would be happy to invite him to my house for dinner and drinks. Charles Manson? Not so much.

What I need most right now is_____

To get laid. Well, you asked. Bing and I were talking last night about the last time we made some eggs. Neither one of us could remember.  Now that's not good. We need to find some time for that. Right now, Liv is hanging around and Bing is laying on the floor with an ice bag under her back. Probably not a good time to jump her bones.

What's the #1 trait that makes a person attractive?

A good sense of humor. I even sometimes like stupid people if they have a good sense of humor.

What do you always try to avoid?

The long line at the grocery store. But, no matter. All I have to do is get in any line and five will get you seven that the person in front of me will either 1) forget that they need butter and tell their clueless husband to "run" back and get it real fast 2) be the kind of person who still writes checks and then then wait until their groceries are all rung up before they even take their check book out 3) argue heatedly about the fact that those pretzels were not 1.99$ but 1.89$ or 4) chatter aimlessly with the checker about their daughter who lives in Phoenix and loves it because there is no snow in Arizona.

What has the last year taught you about yourself?

That I can sit back on my heels and not be a pushy parent. Liv made her own decision about what junior high school to attend and I said I would stay out of it and I did. All this despite the fact that she did not choose the Montessori junior high that I really wanted her to attend. And chose a Catholic junior high because she wanted to learn more about the religion and because she liked their science lab. I wanted to scream at her that Catholicism fucked me up good and plenty. I didn't scream. I did tell her exactly what I thought about parochial schools. She listened, considered, and still picked one. I sat on my hands and shut my mouth. And you know, she's doing fine. I underestimated her. She is learning what she likes and doesn't like and sorting it all out nicely.

What thought has been sitting in the back of your mind recently?

That I really, really need to have sex soon.

What is something that you have grown to appreciate more as you've grown older?

A good mattress.

In one sentence, how would you describe your relationship with your father?

He taught me everything I needed in life in ten short years.

What was your life like exactly ten years ago?

Liv was going on 3 years old. I was living alone, had recently purchased the home we live in now. I was working part time as a jury consultant to help support us. I had quit my high paying job when she was four months old and planned to live on my savings for the first five years of her life, knowing we would have to be very, very frugal. I was incredibly happy, but also very lonely. I sometimes went days without speaking to another adult. I rarely went online. I was in love with motherhood and shocked at how good I was at it.

What type of person inspires you?

Someone who doesn't give a shit what other people think.

Ok...time to go grocery shopping. I think I'm done with all this serious thinking for a while. Unless any of you have questions? If not, I will be back with more news from Lake Wobegon this simple life of mine.

More serious questions....

What's something everyone should do more often?

Brush their teeth. Use mouthwash. Bad breath seems to run rampant some days.

What's something that is important to you that you rarely talk about?

Coffee. I am really a mess without coffee. I like a dark roast with chicory the best. So strong that a spoon could stick up in it

What do you admire most about your significant other?

Her tenacity. She just gets it all done. Well, okay...not cleaning up her messes around the house, but she just won another teaching award and seriously...she accrues them like small change. They keep handing them out and she is always surprised. I never am. She is an incredible teacher, so devoted to her "kids" and has a very high percentage of ones that go on to college. And you know what? They come back to see her and talk to her classes. One kid who was thought to be a complete waste of time to his other teachers, excelled in Bing's class and since he hated school, she encouraged him to join the military. He is now a sharpshooter and a navy seal. He came back to her class last year and spoke to her class. Told them to "shut the fuck up" (and yes, he said the word fuck and Bing let him) and listen to Ms. Bing and not complain that she expects too much, that she was the one person who believed in his value and it propelled him to success. "All you need is one adult to do that for you," he told them. Most of the kids in her class would walk through fire for her and she does crazy things for them that seem small but are really huge. One kid had NEVER been to a restaurant in his life and for his birthday, she took him out for dinner. Another kid didn't have a winter coat and she would see him walking to school sometimes on her way to work. She bought him a coat and picked him up every morning from that moment on. He had a high truancy rate and all that stopped when she began picking him up. Another girl was shy and withdrawn and Bing made a point to speak to her every day. Soon the girl was hanging around her room after school. One day, when Bing had to leave school right away for an appt, the girl started crying, said she hated to go home. Bing missed her appt and sat down to talk with her. The girl admitted that her mother had sold her older sister for crack and she was afraid to go home for fear that she would sell her next. Bing called social services and the police and we tried to arrange for the girl to live with us until better arrangements could be made, but social services ruled that she should stay with relatives. Bing kept close to this girl for her entire high school experience and now she just graduated from college and has applied for a job in Bing's school. There aren't enough words to describe just how incredible my partner is.

What do you hope is different in your life at this time next year?

I hope that Bing's back is better. She has suffered so much since early December.

When you look back over the past year, what moment stands out?

Too many to pick one. And they all seem to be about Liv. Basketball games, the pow wow, mostly a lot of small moments that add up to big ones.

What is a common cause of unhappiness?

Not being able to forgive. My entire family (with the exception of my sister, Celia) shunned me for over a decade at my mother's direction.  If I hadn't forgiven them, I would have such bitterness in my heart. And it eats you up, it really does. And it isn't as if I am some goody goody who only needs to forgive. I have done horrid things that I've been forgiven for. I was a terrible partner to Bing the first time around and when she moved back to New Orleans, I fully expected that she'd never want to lay eyes on me again. Now, here we are...together and happy. If she hadn't found the strength to forgive me, I would have a life without her and that would be so sad.

What's something that will always be yours?

Nothing human. My writing.

What habit do you wish you had developed earlier in life?

Eating well. Bing keeps me on the straight and narrow regarding food and while I do drift over to the dark side now and then, in general, I eat very sensibly now. And you know what? My body does so much better when I do that.

What's something that is easier for you than other people?

I don't really get nervous speaking to a group of people.

What's something everyone should be able to say before they die?

I love you so much. Many times to many people.

What's one great thing that' s free?

Air.

How would you describe your ideal life in one one sentence?

I loved greatly and was loved greatly.

What would make your life happier?

Ok. Here is where you will think I am not nearly as evolved as I should be. I honestly believe that if I had more money, I would be happier. If I didn't have to worry about saving enough to be able to retire well and pay for a good college and grad school education for Liv, I would have a happier, gentler sleep at night. Mercenary? Maybe. It's just...I lived for many, many years poor and it was grindingly awful.

I am happiest when    ?

I am surrounded by my family. This doesn't mean my biological family. The happiest days of my life are when Tinton is here, sleeping in our attic, Nirand in our basement on the pull out couch and Vince and Thuan in the guest room.  And always, always....Liv and Bing.

What is there no substitute for?

Real butter.

What ruins relationships?

I know this probably sounds funny coming from me, but I think too much analyzing can be deadly. Sometimes you just have to let the kite fly.

What's something that doesn't last forever?

Beauty and a working body.  And it is odd...when you are in your twenties and everything is working perfectly, you have no real idea what it will feel like when you can't run up steps two at a time or drink heavily at night and wake up the next morning at 8 a.m. and be able to get out of bed and go to class. Now, I am 53 and some days...nothing works in sync. Beauty is another passing fancy. When I was young, of course I was aware that women looked older as they aged. But, I had no idea that it was the feeling older that stung. The way your neck suddenly feels crepey, the way your skin and hair no longer glow. The way your lipstick feathers out in small cracks because you now have small lines that weren't there ten years ago. But...on the bright side...you are smarter, less angsty, and more patient. Still....I miss that twenty something body. I do.

Ok...more later. Carry on.

Getting Serious # 2

I am lost without ?

My child. I used to snicker at those insipid women who went on and on about motherhood, but then I became a mother and it was instantaneous. I was in deep deep deep love. NEVER felt anything that powerful in my life. I don't go on and on about how great she is to others....but I want to. I want to SO BAD.

What do you find ugly?

Ignorance. One of my sisters LOVES to make fun of Obama, but she had no idea who Michele Bachmann was. And she brags about being a Republican. She never watched ANY of the Republican debates. I find that ridiculous. She has NO knowledge of any of Obama's policies, what he has tried to do in office. She goes glassy eyed when I try to explain that the senate and the house have pretty much tied his hands behind his back and that the economy didn't just start sucking when he took office. Bush managed to stink up the place pretty well before his term. In short, she is ignorant. My other sister often talks sensibly about Obama with me when it is just the two of us, but when she is in a group and everyone is ganging up on me, she says incredibly stupid things like,"I think he's a Muslim." I just stare at her. I really have very little respect for ignorance. You want to debate politics with me? GOOD! But, EDUCATE yourself first. Don't bring your ignorance to the table and expect to get away with idiotic one liners.

What change to your routine has saved you the most time?

Um...okay. I thought of one. I started using shortcuts when I text even though I swore I never would. So...like if I was texting you this message, it would be "Um, ok. I thot of 1. I started using shortcuts when I text even tho I swore I nvr would. So, like if I was texting u this msg, it would b...

What is the most useful thing you own?

An automatic sprinkler system for my garden. I used to spend long hours watering by hand. No more.

What makes you tick?

Education. I educate myself as much as I can about all topics that interest me. I never want to get caught with my ignorance showing.

What is the worst advice you've ever received?

Don't take too many chances. Better safe than sorry. Courtesy of my dear departed sainted Irish mother.

What's something you need more of in your life?

I know I say this too much, but seriously...I NEED MORE SLEEP.

What's a small miracle that has occurred in your life?

Bing not giving up on me. I mean, think about it. She claims to have fallen madly in love with me when we were 18. We tried a relationship when Liv was an infant and failed. I wasn't ready. She moved back to New Orleans and returned about five years later when she got a job offer here that was too lucrative to pass up. We slowly became close again. And then I told her that I thought I really was ready this time. She was cautious, but decided to give me one more chance. And I've managed to stay put. I would NEVER have let her back into my life if she did that to me. EVER. Says a lot about both of us, yes?

What's something that is truly unpredictable?

The weather. I have lived in the heartland most of my life. And it is the weather. A balmy summer's day will suddenly turn into a vicious thunderstorm in SECONDS. A blizzard will come slashing through the prairie faster than you can say, "I just drove to work ten minutes ago and the sun was out!"

There's no excuse for ?

Child abuse. None. NADA. I don't care if you were beaten to a pulp by your parents. You are now a grown up and somewhere inside of yourself you KNOW that beating a child is wrong, you know this intrinsically but you keep doing it? GET SOME HELP!

What a common happiness mistake people often make?

I think love at first sight. I am not saying it t'aint so, I'm saying that I am doubtful. Know that the first 10 months of any relationship is basically a happy lie. You are putting your best foot forward and so is your love. Hiding all that nasty baggage. And most of us have at least some of it. You go around thinking that you stumbled into the holy grail of love or something. And then...ten months later? Wham. You have to come thudding to the ground. If you realize from day one that this is NOT REAL, NOT YET...you will do fine. If you think you and yours are a match made in heaven because every single day is nirvana? You are riding a delusional horse there, Trixie. Real love is thorny but worth it.

What must be experienced to be understood?

Pain. My partner, Bing is one of those people who never even got headaches. Perfect health. And whenever I was ailing, she always seemed to think that if I just took a nice long walk, I'd feel better. Now, she has unexplained back pain and it is pretty horrific...like.."I can barely sleep" horrific. She told me that she feels terrible for all the time that she thought I was being a whiner. "I can see how you must have wanted to slap me or something," she says. I did. But, I would never have wished pain on her. Ever. Still. Once you've experienced pain, especially helpless pain...the kind where nothing helps to soothe it...you are better able to sympathize with others.

What one thing you regret leaving unresolved?

My mother died feeling as if she was justified in disowning me. I will always wonder if I could have tried harder to make her understand.

When you truly love someone, you don't ?

love them conditionally. You are either all in or not. Loving someone with strings isn't love, it's power.

What's 1 essential ingredient found in all healthy relationships?

Trust. If you can't trust your partner, you can't love them properly.

What instantly makes a person unattractive?

Smoking. I was a smoker for ten years. Now just the smell of cigarette smoke makes me feel queasy. Plus, it turns your teeth yellow.

What's one priceless lesson you learned from a mistake?

Always say you are sorry if you know you are wrong. If you don't, time goes by and you are less inclined to say it and the person you wronged is less inclined to believe you.

How would you describe the last month of your life in one word?

Hectic.

What's a simple way to make a stranger smile?

Why do I want to make a stranger smile?

What's something everyone should know how to do?

Read.

What is the best part of your average day?

Quitting time.

What do you see everywhere you go?

People trying to fit in. And it is so unnecessary.

What is the top source of heartache in your life?

My expectations that everyone should think just like I do. I set myself up for disappointment, yes?

What will you never put up with

Bullying.

I would never be friends with someone who

is a racist.

I have a weakness for

Munchos potato chips.

What has changed in your life in the past year?

My energy level. It goes down a little each year.

What do most people take for granted?

That their loved ones will still be there when they awaken.

My life would be a lot different without

electricity.

What is the best thing that has happened to you in the past year?

My marriage has improved after we both made the conscious decision to work harder at getting along.

What do you always look forward to?

That first moment when I stretch out my toes in bed at night. I am always so exhausted.

If you could relive the past year, what would you do differently?

I would have visited Bing in Berlin last summer. She wanted me to, I was dragging my feet for some reason. I think it would have been good for us.

What's something that always leaves you wanting more?

A good book. I hate letting go of characters that feel like my best friends and family.

And one more...

In one sentence, how would you describe your relationship with your best friend?

Multifaceted.

More later....want to take any of these on, dudes?

Getting Serious

I found a series of questions on one of my internet jaunts. Thank you, Josie, for pointing me in that direction.

Let's begin.

If you had to spend one year alone with one other person, who would you want that person to be?

Ugh. Hard. But, in the end, I would choose my child. Liv. I think that Bing and I could weather a year apart, but I might go slowly mad without Liv.

What's a question that many people are afraid to ask themselves?

Am I living a life that makes me proud? Am I standing up when I should and sitting down when I should too? It's very, very hard to do the right thing at all times and I have kept my mouth shut at too many dinners with my racist brother in law. I told myself that I was doing it to keep peace, to be kind to my sister, Patrice, who has the great misfortune to be married to him. But, I should have stood up every. single. time. Let everyone at that table know that I was not going to take this shit and neither should they.

In one word, what are you hoping for?

Peace. I want to die with peace in my heart.

In one word, what's your biggest concern at the moment?

I wish I could say world peace or some such thing, but I am remarkably human. My biggest concern is always having enough money at the end of my life to not burden my family, to be able to die with dignity. I have had this terrible fear of being a bag lady for most of my life.

What's something you wish you saw more of?

Kindness. It seems that the older I get, the more I see unkindness.

What's something that many people fear that doesn't scare you at all?

Ghosts. We have a house ghost and I have never been truly afraid. Startled, yes. Afraid, no.

What item do you most often misplace?

My watch. I have found it in the fridge before. No lie.

Life is wasted without ?

Sounds cheesy, but it's true. Love. And being loved.

What makes you different?

I tend to feel things at a heightened level. I would never admit this on most days because I have never been accused of being too sensitive. But, I have a sort of gift of being able to connect.... to join myself..... to things and feel them. Hard to explain. Once when I was little, I was sitting outside in the back yard weeping because the fireflies were so beautiful. It was like I couldn't stand it or something. My mother came outside to see what the matter was. When I told her, she shook her head, rolled her eyes and said, "Maria, they are BUGS" and went into the house. Just the other day, I finished a book called Carry The One that touched me deeply. I was sitting on the sofa, thought I was alone. I hugged the book and began to cry. I couldn't stand to let the characters go. Bing came in, immediately sat next to me and asked what I was crying about. I told her that I just loved this book so much. She sort of patted me and got up, totally not getting me. Does this make sense?

What's something that you enjoy making or building from scratch?

Well, I am not a craft person. But, I am a passable baker. When Liv was little, we never made anything from a box, such as brownies or cakes. Always from scratch and there was something very satisfying about measuring ingredients and seeing them come together successfully. Plus, by the time she was 4, Liv understood the concept of measuring. She knew a quarter cup was small, a half cup bigger and a cup even more so.

If you could add an extra hour to your day, how would you spend it?

Easy. Sleep. I never get enough sleep. When that alarm goes off in the morning, I just want to groan and roll over, slap it off, go back to sleep.

What do you wish you did more of on a regular basis?

Walk the dog. I tend to see it as a chore. But my best blogs come out of long, lingering walks with Socks. I walk and think about things. Problem solve. Let nature seep into my bones a bit.

In what way are you a survivor?

I've survived some pretty scary health issues. I surprised myself by being a fighter. Not just a little, but a full fledged warrior.

What's the one piece of advice you would give to a teenager?

This too shall pass. Not having that cute guy ask you to prom? This is MINOR, cookie. Honest.

Ok...tackle more later.

And I'd be curious to see how you would answer these questions.

Another cat dream....but this one was funny...

I was showing off my cats to someone, can't remember who it was. The cats were changing into cartoon cats and then back to real. One was a gray cat, the other a marmalade.

I held up the gray cat. "This one is Buddha!" I said.

I held up the orange tabby. "This one is Carrots!"

That's it, folks. And so me. Buddha and carrots all the way.

The next film that I cannot wait to see....

Ah. I've always thought Gellhorn was far more brilliant than Hemingway and got so little attention. And now...there she is come to life. I've never been a big Kidman fan, but that just might be changing. Just in this tease trailer, she makes me want to know this woman, be her, be friends with her.

Hemingway? I could take or leave...but Gellhorn? Oh, my.

The Pow Wow

My first real one.

Liv's father, Tinton, is staying with us until Monday. He is a full blood Lakota Indian. Whenever he is in town, he hooks up with his friends and this weekend was special, there was to be a pow wow.

Unfortunately, the weather is making it difficult. Tornado warnings. Terrible thunder storms. But, I knew it was important to attend. Liv visits Tinton's family in South Dakota sometimes and her grandmother (her "kunsi") sends her the most beautiful jewelry and homemade moccasins. She has sent me a shawl, a tablecloth and some moccasins as well that fit my feet like butter. Liv has not visited her Lakota kin in a few years (shame on me) but calls them frequently and Tinton bought his mother and sisters phones so that they could text and they do this often.

Liv's kunsi calls about twice a month to catch up with Liv, to talk, find out what she is learning in school. I have only met her once and it was brief, but was struck by her incredibly piercing eyes.

So, when Tinton told me to expect a box from his family while he and Liv were in NYC for Easter, I was happy to sign for it. I didn't open it, waited for them. When they arrived home, they both pounced on it.

Inside was an unbelievably beautiful ceremony dress for Liv, buckskin with bits of color: turquoise, navy blue and hot pink. Leggins were included with a new pair of full leg mocs and a gorgeous turtle necklace. For Tinton, there was also a ceremony shirt, also buckskin with a painted deer hide breast plate and a small head dress.

Tinton explained. There was to be a pow wow on April 14th here on the prairie and he had not danced in one in a very long time, needed to "re-attach" to his Lakota brothers. So, he had his mother (his "ina") send along his head dress. It was modest, he told me, because he had not earned full feathers yet. That was achieved through acts of great valor/kindness and "rebellious fortitude." A man his age should have more, he knew, but he had been busy making his living in the outside world.

I was bedazzled by Liv's outfit, mostly because it fit her perfectly, as if her grandmother knew her like the back of her hand. When Liv tried it on, both Bing and I choked up. Tinton told us that Liv had decided to march in the grand entry. Anyone who is of Native American blood can do this. Liv had never chosen to walk in this before.

Liv wanted to be a part of this, to do this with her father. I approved. I've told Liv so much of my Irish ancestry stories and told Tinton that I wanted her to understand who she came from. He agreed. But, it is tough for him sometimes. He does not live on the reservation, works in the outside world and his love of travel and geology take him far and wide. He does know many Lakota songs and traditions, however and has passed them on to Liv. He sometimes makes choke cherry pudding with Liv when he is here, a treat that his mother taught him to make. And once, a few years ago, when Liv had a cough that just hung on, her kunsi sent us spruce leaves to make a tea for her and I swear it worked better than Ny-Quil.

So, she knows many traditions.

But, this pow wow would be her first real stepping out with her father. And while she had seen him dance many times, I never had. Not once.

Bing is a quarter Cherokee, so technically she could join in the entry march if she so desired, but she decided to sit with me and privately, I think she worried that she would have to wear a ceremony dress....

We arrived early and Liv and her father went off to change their clothes. I was not to see them until they came out in the grand entry. And because males and females do not walk together, Liv would walk in alone. I know this worried her a little. When we arrived, she glanced around at all the other girls with their glossy jet black braids. Her dirty blonde hair was back in a simple braid down her back and she wore a small blue feather piece in her hair, attached with a small clip given to her by one of her cepansi (girl cousins).

Bing and I found seats and sat down.

She looked over at me. "Do you have your kleenex, darlin'?" she asked warmly.

She knows me. I would fight hard not to cry, but there was a good chance I would lose.

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't be silly," I retorted. "I am FINE."

There was a prayer, a rather long one, I thought. While I half listened, I glanced around at the incredible ceremony outfits. Most were in vivid colors of bright blues, pinks, oranges and yellows. I only saw a few buckskin outfits.

I felt astonishingly white skinned, although there were lots of white people there.

And then the entry began.

And there they came.

First the dancers, the men. The came howling and swirling into the circle, their bright headdresses and colorful outfits shimmering and blistering with sheer vibrance. I blinked, trying to find Tinton. His good friend was one of the drummers and when he caught my eye, he nodded to his left and then I found him. I just hadn't recognized him. He looked so....foreign to me.

I had never seen him in Indian dress. His face paint was not as vivid as the others, it was more subtle, but it was there. And suddenly, I could picture his ancestors in my mind perfectly. Men dancing in front of a fire, telling their stories, sometimes entertaining, sometimes instructing, always passing the traditions on.

He was quite good.

The women came last and I watched their shuffling steps, much calmer than the men, no dancing, just sort of a rhythmic shuffling.

I leaned over to whisper to Bing. "Why aren't the women dancing too?"

She looked quizzically at me as if she was surprised at my density.

"Maria, honey. Only the men dance. The women's feet are shackled to the earth in Lakota culture, in most American Indian culture, in fact. Sometimes the youngest girls dance, but it is rare." she said.

I nodded. Well. That hardly seemed fair. It was like the men were like the cardinals and blue jays in my back yard, all beauty and puff while their female partners were drab in comparison.

And then, I spotted that blonde head in the middle of a group of teenage girls and younger children.

She took my breath away. She held the hand of a small black haired girl next to her, barely past the toddler age. And she moved her feet in perfect shuffling time, her head high, her voice chanting with the women.

My daughter is a Lakota woman. She might have the golden hair of my family (and it is rare even in mine...only her Aunt Celia has it) but her skin was tawny colored as her ancestors and her dark brown eyes were Lakota. Several bells on her dress as well as the other girl's dresses jingled in perfect harmony as they stepped lively, but careful, their feet, of course, symbolically shackled to the earth.

It took everything I had not to burst into tears.

For the first time, my daughter felt separate from me. Not a part of me. She was herself. She was not full Lakota, not Irish, not American. She walked on blurred lines. And she was spectacularly lovely.

After the grand entry, she came and sat crosslegged next to me, allowing an older woman to have the seat we had saved for her. The little girl who had walked with her tried to sit in the circle of her lap but was plucked gently away by her mother who thanked Liv for watching her in the entry.

We wandered the booths from time to time as Tinton watched his friend drumming. I spotted a beautiful tiger eye ring and gently turned it over to see it's price tag. Ouch. I put it back.

Liv came up to me right before Tinton's dance. "It's almost time," she said, happily. "C'mon. Oh, mama...he is SO good. Just wait and see."

We sat together, waiting. I looked up to see Bing coming too. She casually sat down and dropped a package in my lap. I opened it.

The tiger's eye ring.

She smiled. "It will look pretty on your pretty finger," she said, winking.

And then, Liv plopped another package in my lap.

"For you," she said. "For my ina on this special day."

It was a gorgeous silver band with a snake carved into it.

I raised my eyebrow and smiled at Liv. A snake?

"Snakes represent intuition," she said. "I have always thought you were the most intuitive person I have ever known."

I was surprised at the compliment. Liv rarely throws them my way, she isn't much for rhapsodizing. I hugged her. And Bing.

And then the announcer told us that it was time for the chicken dance.

I looked at Liv. She nodded up at me. Yes, that was the right dance.

I couldn't imagine Tinton doing a chicken dance. But then...they all came out and there he was in a soft mint green shirt, leggings and mocs, his painted dear hide breast plate and headdress in place. He held a long series of feathers in his hands. Liv told me that he collected hawk and eagle feathers on his travels.

The dance began. I was flabbergasted. He was really, really good. And so...impish. So rebellious, so flawless, so...so...perfectly poised and well....chickeny!

It was this dance:



Once, he danced very close to us and he playfully made a face at us and we laughed uproariously.

I have seen Tinton speak eloquently about the power and sheer beauty of rocks, of landscape, of the sheer cliffs that he sees. I have had incredibly complex discussions with him about politics and organized religion. We have talked seriously about Liv and how she is like a watercolor to us, a beautiful shimmering watercolor of perfection and beauty.

But I have never seen him dance. Not like that.

He was beautiful.

He was a Lakota man. He was Liv's father.

And he was ours to keep.

All in all, the day was a keeper. The weather is still awful, storms still loom.

But, my daughter and her father shared something big today. Their shared heritage.

And I saw poetry in motion. And learned a thing or two that I didn't know yesterday.

I have Bing's hand to hold, her fingers dancing over my new tiger's eye ring.

I sat there at that pow wow and saw how...maybe...how it was long ago. Families of Lakota sitting by fires, laughing, talking, sharing, dancing.

Their heritage is just as vivid as my Irish one.

And Liv carries them both, that Irish Lakota blood flying through her American veins.

That scared the hell out of me....

My co-workers and I always share Thursday lunch. It was a suggestion made by us in upper management. Julie, Piper and myself were brainstorming ways that would pull our already close knit group of workers even closer. And I really do work with a great group of people, with the exception of my secretary, Nanette. So, one of us (it was probably Julie, she is the perky one) decided that we should ask everyone if they wanted to engage in Thursday Potluck lunch. Everyone (with the exception of one person...want to wager a guess?) thought it was a great idea.

So...every Thursday we take turns bringing either 1) paper plates, plastic cutlery (or the real thing if you don't mind being the washer afterwards) 2) sandwiches or a main lunch dish...nothing too fancy, 3) a salad or chips, etc. 4) a dessert or 5) being just a guest and bringing nothing but your appetite. Everyone supplies their own drinks. And the rule is NOTHING TOO EXPENSIVE OR FANCY PANTS. We don't want to turn this into a competition. And some of us (me) don't enjoy cooking that much.

It was my turn to bring dessert today, so I brought cupcakes from this incredible french bakery that I found.

Nanette called in sick (I admit that when I heard her nasally voice on voice mail, I went into Julie's office and said, "Let's get this party started!"), so it was just

Piper, Julie and Maria: big ass bosses
Milagros: nurse
Charity: office manager
Corona: janitor
Kim and Brenda: long suffering secretaries who work at the front desk with Nanette
Ernesto: the doorman at our building

Each week, five of us are on, five off. Today, Piper brought cutlery, Charity brought homemade chicken salad sandwiches, Kim brought a fruit salad and I brought those delish cuppy cakes.

We all talked like magpies, even the men. And sometimes they are the worst.

But we all got to talking about something that scared the hell out of us.

Milagros spoke of the time that she was out jogging in the early morning and thought she was being followed.

Corona spoke of a man with road rage who jumped out of his car at a red light and came running at his car with a bat screaming, "Stop riding my ass, motherfucker!" This was when he had only been in America for a few months and barely knew English. He thought the man was accusing of him making love to his wife.

Kim spoke of the time her son fell down the basement steps and hit his head. She talked a lot about the incredible blood flow until we reminded her that we were eating, dude.

When it came to my turn, I had my story ready. It was close at hand. It happened when Liv was a baby. I had just moved into our present home and because it is ancient, it had no central air conditioning. I remembered a/c units from college, but didn't know much. At any rate, the one in my bedroom seemed pretty lackadaisical. So, I got out the yellow pages and called the first place I found that worked on window units. When the doorbell rang, I put Liv in her playpen (baby jail) and answered the door. There was this greasy haired man in a pair of jeans and a filthy work shirt. He didn't have a badge or anything.

Stupidly, I said,"Are you the air conditioner repair guy?"

He nodded and held up a tool box. I let him in. WITHOUT checking for id.

I know. Stupid. Incredibly stupid.

I was walking towards Liv when I heard the door slam behind him and turned to see him swiftly locking the three deadbolts on my door. And then I happened to notice that there was no truck in my driveway. No van with the name of the heating and cooling company.

My heart was banging against my ribs and I was terrified. I had just let a killer/rapist into my home. And it was because I was a stupid idiot. I felt my mouth go dry and I tried to think but all that kept running through my head was, "Oh, my God...I can't let him hurt LIV!" I swallowed and tried to think. It's harder than you think. You know how you see all those horror movies and you can't believe that the woman ALWAYS goes down in the basement to check that noise? Or that she trips and falls? Or fights back like a little girl?

Well, that could have been me. I actually tripped over Liv's bouncy chair and almost fell. And when the guy walked towards me, I gave out a strangled, very squeaky half scream.

He held up his hands.

"Hey, now," he said, not unkindly. "I just wanted to make sure you hadn't hurt yourself."

And you know the rest of the story. It was the heating/cooling guy. He had parked in front of my house instead of in the driveway. When I asked him about it later when my teeth weren't rattling, he told me that it was a company rule: DO NOT park in customer's driveways.

In short, he fixed the unit. Put coolant or something in it. And yes, he was kind of gross smelling and looking and that whole exposing butt thing that seems to come with repair men? He did that when he bent over to grasp a wrench or something.

It turned out fine.

I DO think it was ODD that he put my deadbolts on, but I never asked him about it. I should have. I didn't. His teeth were this brownish yellow that disgusted me a little bit, but he wasn't my dentist. He was my repair guy and he did his job. Well.

And okay, as he was leaving, he did ask me if I had myself an um...man. And I lied my head off and said that I sure did!

"Too bad!" he said, gaily. "I was gonna tell ya that I'd love to buy ya a brew sometime."

I smiled and shrugged. He left soon after with my check for 50 bucks.

I do think he was unprofessional. But...he didn't rape and kill me.

And I have NEVER done something so stupid again. I could have been a statistic. The kind you read about and wonder how on earth a woman living alone could be so stupid as to get herself and her baby killed.

So...I've been thinking about it and I really, really want to hear YOUR scary story.

Let's sit by this here camp fire and have some s'mores. Who wants to go first?

More fun with the ipod...

Ok...another meme...because I got nothin' for ya today, dudes. So...went to my trusty drawer of memes and found another one.

You put your ipod on shuffle and then of course, each question gets a song.

Here we go.

1) Your first kiss:

The Best Day by Taylor Swift.

Depends on if you count the time Mike Day chased me on the last day of school in fifth grade swearing that he was going to kiss me. And did. It wasn't horrid, but I was sweaty and practically bawling because I didn't think that he would REALLY do it and he DID. I prefer to count the much later day when I was kissed by Ben in the closet at my first boy/girl party when we were chosen in Spin The Bottle. I was a happy participant and it was a very lovely kiss.

2) First date:

Baby Don't You Break My Heart Slow by Vonda Shepard

No heart breaking occurred. We were both happy daters and when it was time to say goodbye after a long series of dates, we were both ready. A good time was had by all.

3) First Day of Kindergarten:

Sunshine On My Shoulders by John Denver.

I was really ready for school and although I'm not sure if the sun was shining, I had the BEST kindergarten teacher on the planet. We were her last class before retiring. She taught me how to skip and she was a loving, warm hearted teacher.

4) Relationship with parents:

What's Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner.

Wayyyy offfff. I don't know that I have ever loved anyone except Liv as much as I loved my Da. And my Mother? I didn't like her much, but I did love her and I think the feeling was mutual.

5) Relationship With Siblings:

Up Up And Away by The Fifth Dimension.

Huh? I don't recall any balloons in any sister outings. But, hey..it IS an ongoing experience and sometimes a lot of fun. Other times, not so much. I believe we call that LIFE.

6) First real love affair:

To The Edge Of The Earth by Michael Nyman

Yes, we did visit there. In a good way and in a very bad way.

7) First Break-Up:

You've Got Another Thing Comin' by Judas Priest

Hmmm. There was a lot of pain, a lot of anger but I carefully muted it. I wanted out SO BADLY and was terrified that she'd try to off herself again if I left, so I tiptoed carefully out. But, yes...inside I was royally pissed off. I STILL get mad when I think of how she blackmailed me into staying with her for six months when it was so obviously over.

8) BFF song:

What She's Doing Now by Garth Brooks

Not sure what THAT means. I always know what she's doing because we text like...20 times a day. And most times it is just to make silly observances like "Got a nose picker in the car next to me. Barf."

9) Partner song:

Two Sleepy People by Carly Simon

Yup. That's us. Always tired. But, still sharing chicken bones and sitting in chairs together.

10) Your relationship with your child(ren):

Let Me Be Your Teddy Bear by Elvis Presley

Not really. Neither Liv nor I are the mooshy type. We do say I love yous but we aren't all gooey with each other. And she DOES have a teddy bear. His name is Bobo. This was her attempt to say "blue bear" when she was 2. He is light blue with a white nose and whenever I had to wash him, she would crouch next to the washer watching him go 'round and 'round and grieve that he was getting dizzy. Bobo goes on all trips with us. Always. God forbid we forget him. She never had a "blankie" or anything like that. She just has Bobo. He still sleeps with her every single night.

11) Song about fights with your partner/husband/wife/whomever:

Redemption by Johnny Cash

We rarely fight BIG LARGE anymore, we have the giant things figured out by now and we know exactly what not to get into it with each other about. But, sometimes...we have at it and it's not pretty. And yes, we badly need redemption when the smoke clears.

12) Song about your career:

I Heard It Through The Grapevine by Creedence Clearwater Revival

Hmmm. We are a group of women, but there is precious little gossiping with us. Or maybe I just don't notice it. I think (with the exception of my secretary) we are a pretty tight group. And she told me today that "Every day, retirement sounds better." I was verrrrryyyyy encouraging and said that I thought she was ready too. This backfired because she suddenly looked quite alarmed. She's one of those people where it has to be HER idea. I should have said, "I don't know how we'll survive without you, Nanette!" And then maybe she'd have given me her walking papers. If wishes were horses.....

13) How you feel about your co-workers:

Manic Monday by The Bangles

It usually is. And the rest of the week too. We roll that way.

14) How you feel right now:

Wallflower Waltz by k.d. lang

I don't know about that. I feel pretty joined at the hip with my partner lately.

15) Family vacations when you were a kid:

The Rhythm Of The Saints by Paul Simon

Well, we DID have to say the rosary in the car as we started out the drive to the destination and no matter where we were...we had to go to mass on Sunday. We also prayed every night as a family, kneeling and my Da would make the sign of the cross on our foreheads when he kissed us goodnight. As I said, I grew up in a very religious Irish Catholic family. Even on vacation, we hit our knees regularly.

16) First sexual experience:

A Big Hunk O'Love by Elvis Presley

Yeah, it was. Pretty much.

17) What's your future look like?

Never Think by Rob Pattinson

Best not to, yes?

18) What your family was like growing up:

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran

Um. No. We didn't go hungry. Ever. And I feel sort of embarrassed to have this on my play list. Shhh. Don't tell.

19) What your own family is like now:

Older by Colbie Caillat

Well,now. Yes. We are getting older. How astute.

20) What will you be like in your old age:

The Problem Is You by Lee DeWyze

It always fucking is, isn't it? I am not going gently into that good night.

21) What your partner thought when you first met:

Only you Can Love Me This Way by Keith Urban

Aw,honey. You silver tongued devil.

22) What you thought when you first met your partner:

Richard Cory by Simon and Garfunkel

Liar,liar, pants on fire! I swear I wasn't thinking of him, honey. It was all you. Still is. Pinky swear.

23) What your child(ren) thinks of you as a parent:

Breakable by Ingrid Michaelson

Well, I hope not. I'd hate for her to think I'm a wimpy ass parent.

24) What your co-workers think of you:

Crazy by Cat Stevens

Well, maybe. A little bit. But in a good way, right? RIGHT?

25) What your neighbors think of you:

Belong by Cary Brothers

Glad to be here too! Thanks!

26) What your best friend thinks of you:

Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not by Thompson Square

Well, Harriet. All this time you've been crushing on me, haven't you? I KNEW IT! Sorry, I just wanna be friends. No tears. No tears... :)

27) What your family thinks of you:

Collide by Howie Day

Well, if you'd all leave the dark side and become Democrats,there would be a lot more getting along, girlies. Come over to the force. It's nirvana over here.

28) What your partner felt the first time you kissed:

Mona Lisas And The Mad Hatters by Sir Elton John

I am a bit buzzy, but admit it...you liked it.

So...okay...wonder how you'd all fare...

Try it....

Bing as psychoanalyst

Yesterday was kind of hard. It was a not so fun Easter. First, the washing machine broke down on Friday night.

Did I mention that I HATE it when appliances break down? This is mostly because Bing flat out refuses to buy anything new when something breaks. She attempts to fix it. And she is not as handy as she thinks. This usually involves inviting our fix it man neighbor to come help her and while he is a nice guy, you can see it on his face that he tires of being the one we call ALL THE TIME. So...she calls a friend or some brother in law of a co-worker who once watched someone do something and thinks he can do it.

The results are less than stellar. When our dishwasher broke down two years ago, she called her uncle who was actually a good choice. He used to flip houses and is pretty good at fixing things. Trouble is...he is in his late seventies now. So..he came and told her that it was unfixable and that she needed to buy a new dishwasher. I was starting to like the guy. He offered to put in a new dishwasher if we got it home. So...thinking that we would save money by not having to pay to have it installed...we did just that. And he ended up somehow breaking the alarm system on our home. Don't ask me how, I don't know.

Then, the shower was leaking that one time and Bing went into the basement and into the crawlspace and tried to fix it from there. Sad ending.

So..whenever something breaks, I am concerned.

So...it was tense around the house this weekend, but the good news is that I think she may have fixed it...under the tutelage of our fix it guy neighbor.

But, it played havoc on her back. And then I woke up Saturday with a rheumatoid arthritis flare up in my left elbow, shoulder and wrist. By Sunday, it wasn't pretty and her back was still killing her.

But, she had an Easter gig, so bit the bullet. I went to the gig, made it half way through and decided to just give in and go home. I called my sister, Patrice, on the phone to tell her that we wouldn't be coming for Easter dinner.

She was clipped and snippy, but oh well.

Patrice hates it when something happens to upset her well laid plans.

So, we laid around for Easter. Later in the afternoon, I roused myself to take some flowers out to the graves of the people who owned our home before we did. I feel obligated to do this a few times a year, they were the ones who planted our gorgeous flowers in the first place.

I texted Patrice when I got back home. Still snippy. Sigh.

I put the phone down and told Bing that Patrice was still mad about us skipping Easter dinner. Bing was less than interested. She was actually thrilled when I texted her at her gig and told her that we'd be skipping it.

But, then, because Bing is Bing, she came and sat next to me on the sofa. Took my hand.

"You can't feel guilty about this," she said. I nodded.

"Honey, we are both out of sorts physically."

I said I knew that.

Finally, she put her shrink hat on.

"You know what Patrice's problem is?" she asked. I shrugged.

"She is a spoiled brat posing as an angel."

I looked up, interested.

"She LOVES being the family matriarch and HATES being bested. You and your other sisters talk about it. You know how Patrice gets all mad if one of you sisters doesn't tell her news first. You, Jessie and Celia joke about it all the time. ("God, pretend like you're surprised when Patrice tells you this. She'll get all snippy if she isn't told first....") Well, isn't that kind of babyish? And if you ask her why she's acting all cold and snippy, she'll deny it to her death that she's mad that she wasn't the first one to know something."

I nodded slowly. She is correct. No denying that. Patrice likes to be FIRST in the loop.

"And after your mom died, Celia (who never really left me to begin with) called RIGHT AWAY and you two were meeting for cake and coffee, etc. And then a few months later, Jessie called you, apologized for acting like a timid jackass by going along with the rule about disowning you as a family. And then...what? At least a year later, Patrice saw that Jessie and Celia were taking you in and she didn't want to be left out, so all of a sudden, there she was. We lived in the same city with her for years and she didn't bother looking you up and then...snap...all of a sudden, she is not only calling you, but wanting to go with you to your doctor's visits to learn more about your RA. Do you really think she would have contacted you again if Celia and especially, Jessie, hadn't?"

I thought about that. Don't know. And it is one of those things that I will never know. I forgave my sisters a long time ago for those silent years because carrying that kind of pain inside of me was not healthy. Best to just try and forgive. And, God...I missed them all so much.

Bing went on. "And then a few years ago, at some family gathering, everyone was going on and on about how they love all the cards you send for birthdays, etc. because they are so beautiful, so sly, so perfect...and what happens next? PATRICE starts making homemade cards for everyone."

I hold my hand up. Counter. "She said that it was because she hated spending money on cards," I said.

Bing rolled her eyes. "Maria, she is richer than GOD. She has that huge inheritance from your mother that she never offered to give you one thin dime of."

"I don't want her money!" I shrieked. I was feeling defensive. And I always feel as if I have to stand up for my family. I was raised that way. Someone goes against a sister, they go against you.

Bing smiled, hugged me. "Ok...uncle. I'll shut up."

I cuddled close. "I guess...I just feel so guilty. She worked hard to make that dinner and then we didn't show up."

Bing had reached her patience limit. "MARIA! We were ILL. And we weren't the only ones invited. At least 10 other people were coming. Minus two was nothing! For godsakes...and you are making yourself feel guilty. No one else can make you feel guilty. That is something you do to yourself."

I kissed her chin.

"When did you get so wise, missy? Maybe you should have gone into psychiatry instead of teaching music."

"Naw," she said. "I wanted to get rich and shit so I became a teacher..."

She went off to do her own thing then but she left me with lots of food for thought. My sisters don't read my blog anymore...so no worries about hurting her feelings. But...I'm curious. What do you think? And tell me about the dynamics of your relationship with your siblings. Is it possible to love them with all of your heart and want to smack them too?

What do YOU think?

Conversation that didn't go well....

Maria: (glancing up from the computer screen where she has just been reading up on what's new with Lee DeWyze) Oh, my hell. Bing! GUESS who is doing a gig in Branson, Missouri at the Moon River Theater this summer?

Bing is immediately leery. It is rare that she and Maria agree on music. She is very, very worried that this might have something to do with Lee DeWyze.

Bing: Um? Let's see....Yo Yo Ma? Bruno Mars? Karrin Allyson? Elvis Costello?

Maria rolls her eyes.

M: No, silly. LEE DEWYZE! He is doing a gig from mid May to mid June! Do I smell a family jaunt?

Bing winces.

B: Uh. No. That is the ripe smell of distress. Honey...just no. I cannot STAND Lee DeWyze, you know that. He is an overrated coffee house singer. For godsakes, he proposed to his fiancee at DISNEY WORLD. I can't believe you aren't snickering.

Maria winces. Because okay....she DID snicker. It was unkind and not very nice to Lee and it bothered her, but god...DISNEY WORLD?

M: We could drive down. It's only a seven hour drive. There are um Chinese acrobats too. You and Liv would love that...

B: Honey, I can't drive long distances with my back anymore and you hate driving....and please, I just don't think I can stand it if he sings that dippy ass Sweet Serendipity. I DETEST that song and admit, so do you.

M: Okay. It was ONE bad song. Every artist is allowed one shitty cd and he had his. I bet he sings lots of his new shit in Branson. And....we could take turns driving!

B No. I can't...I WON'T subject our daughter to that drivel. And I can't see driving in pain for SEVEN hours to see someone that I dislike sing for two more hours. Please, honey...NO.

Maria debates pouting. It has worked before. No. She's right. The whole trip would be a disaster and Bing would be crabby all the way there and back. Too bad that Yo Yo Ma isn't in Branson too.

This marriage shit isn't for pansies.

So...she thinks...hmmm...

Picks up the phone. It rings and her sister, Patrice picks up.

"Hi, sis....hey...GUESS who is coming to Branson this summer?"

New York, New York...

Well, Liv is gone this weekend. She left yesterday with her father. Tinton flew in on Tuesday and rested all day on Wednesday. He is working in Pakistan with a lava effusion team and will be there until early September, so no summer vacation for him with Liv. Too dangerous a region and much of the work is on the Afghan border. But, he freed up some time and with my agreement, decided to take Liv to New York City for Easter.

They have it all planned out. Tinton scored great tickets to The Book of Mormon and Once. He tried to get tickets to Mary Poppins, but couldn't find any good seats. He's promised her a carriage ride through Central Park. (Liv's comment: "I know it's cheesy but I want to say I've done it.") A friend of his owns a jazz and supper club in Harlem and he's taking her to see a sextet called One For All. They are attending Easter services at Trinity Church. Liv wanted to see what it looked like.

All in all, it sounds like a blast. They left yesterday and won't be back until Monday. Then, Tinton will rest up with us until the following weekend and head back to Pakistan.

I am so glad that he came back to us. Liv was happy as she packed. When he told us that there would be no summer trip for them this year, she was sad but understood. She is remarkably pragmatic, even at 12. But, then as Tinton and I talked on the phone occasionally, he was so sad about not seeing her for a whole summer that he decided to just insist on some time off. He says it was risky, he felt honored to be selected for this job and worried that they would move to replace him, but the head geologist told him to take as much time as he needed...as long as it was no more than two weeks.

Packing with Liv is an experience. She is in that in-between stage, not yet a teen, not exactly a child...but she's growing up so quickly. I would say that she is a young 12, she is not boy crazy yet but her body is changing at a much faster rate than mine did. I was nearly sixteen before I had any curves and was always flat as a board. She is already as curvy as a willow and must take after my sisters or Tinton's mother, because she already has a chest. Sometimes, I will be walking with her and catch men and boys giving her the once over and I sort of want to smash their teeth in and say, She's just a little girl! Back off!"

But, in other ways, she is very grown up. She has a sense of style that is uniquely her and I'm glad she isn't falling into a set category. She's not goth, not sporty, not um...slutty, or girly girl. She likes nice clean lines and nothing too busy, with the exception of plaid, she likes plaid. She finds most of her clothes at thrift shops but is no stranger to Anthropologie, delia's or Soul-Flowers. Tinton has already told me not to buy her any summer outfits, that they plan to shop for all that on Saturday and then have it shipped home to me. When I protested that she hasn't really grown much this year and has plenty of clothes that are still quite wearable, he sweetly asked me to please lighten up and let him spoil his daughter once in awhile.

So, mouth shut. And that kid has the coolest clothes. Our good friends, Vince and Thuan are style hogs and the know what appeals to her so they send her lots of clothes from Chicago. You name it, shoes, clothes, sweaters, purses, hair gear. And now...a new wardrobe from some funky shops in New York City. Ah. I'm jealous.

She can also eat like a hog and not gain a pound. At her last check up, her pediatrician told me that she was slightly underweight and quite tall for her age, that I should encourage her to eat more. I had to laugh. She eats a lot. She must have the metabolism of a hummingbird, though.

I will miss my girl, but to be honest...I am sort of glad to have a weekend off. Although I think Liv and I get on better than a lot of tweens and their mothers, we still knock heads now and then. And getting her out of that bed every morning has been an experience. I've tried everything short of pouring ice cold water on her with less than stellar results. So then I end up bitching and she ends up growling at me to please stop "screeching" at her at 6:30 a.m. I do not screech. I swear it. And she drives Bing nuts with her half hour long showers. During the week, it's not so bad since Bing leaves for work just as we are getting up, but on the weekends? Ugh. I can sense Bing gritting her teeth as she keeps looking at her watch. We used to have a water saving timer in the shower and I talked her into discarding it. Now, I am prepared to find that she has set it up again any day now.

I often feel less close to Liv than I used to be. When she was a toddler and we were joined at the hip, I couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't adore me and want to be with me every single second. Now, sometimes...I feel her pulling away from me slightly and sometimes she goes in her bedroom and shuts her door and I know it is because she is sick of me, of us. I tell myself that this is perfectly normal. And her grades are excellent, her friends interesting and good natured. She rarely challenges my rules and when she does, she manages to do it with grace and not use that ranty teenage verbage. But, I do have friends with teenaged children and they tell me that it generally starts to get bad at about age 13 and that by 16, all that hard parenting work seems like it was for naught and then...they come back to you when they are about 17.

Liv used to hang on every word I said and copy me closely. Now, she will deliberately disagree with me (about small things...like who is good on Idol and who sucks) and I get the feeling that it is more just to set herself apart, that she wants to be herself and not like me. And then I start to wonder...when did I become this boring person who is outdated and slightly ridiculous? How did we get from "I want to be JUST like you when I grow up! to "Mother, I would rather die than wear that. Please...just no." And the odd thing? I get the strong feeling that if Tinton or Vince or Thuan or even Bing sometimes would say the same thing that I did, she'd be agreeable, think it was great.

So, I pick my battles carefully and am cautious with what I say. Like...I didn't want to make a huge deal about how much I loved the book, The Hunger Games because I knew that it might make her shy away from it.

I miss Liv. But..you know sometimes when I least expect it, she comes sailing back to me. As I helped drag her bags into the airport yesterday, I felt tears start in the back of my throat. Not because I was going to miss her so much, but just because she was...leaving. I always feel unsettled when she isn't under my roof every night. I was working so hard not to show my sentimental feelings when she suddenly put down her bags next to her father and came up and hugged me hard, whispered that she hoped Bing and I had fun at Aunt Patrice's house and that she'd bring me back a memento. And that she would miss me sooooo much.

I was so surprised that my tears dried up before they got to my eyes.

I expect to live on this odd precipice now for the next several years.

So, I gaily waved goodbye and got into the car and when I arrived back home, there was a little drawing on my pillow. It was of a woman holding hands with a little girl. Under it, she wrote:

I can always feel your hand in mine even when I am miles away. Have fun with Bing while I'm gone and I'm throwing you a kiss RIGHT NOW so try and catch it.

Then there was an arrow pointing to turn the paper over. On the back, it read:

Okay, Mama klutz, you missed the kiss, so I put it on your pillow so that you can feel it just as you fall asleep like you always kiss me before I fall asleep. I may act like it's no big deal, but those goodnight kisses make my heart go softly into my dreams. Thanks for all those years of goodnight kisses. I love you. See you on Monday night. I'll be the girl who looks like a native New Yorker...ha ha. Love, your daughter, Liv Lastname.

This made me smile. She ALWAYS signs her card Liv Lastname, as if I won't know who it is if she doesn't put our last name down.

Now...Bing and I are on to a fun filled weekend. Since she still has a bad back and I've been achy too....we plan to sleep in, have very, very careful sex and maybe catch a movie. On Easter Sunday, she has a church gig, so I will put on my Easter duds and then we'll go over to my sister's for Easter ham.

I'm old...I can only have wild, weed pulsating weekends about once a year...

This will do fine.

Have a happy Easter, bunnies.

Help! Need a dream analyst

Ok...I need some feedback. Seriously. Because this is driving me mad. I know it means SOMETHING because my subconscious is serving it up to me almost nightly. So, I am going to throw it on the blog table and see what my intrepid blog buddies come up with.

I have had several very vivid dreams almost nightly. And I am not one to remember dreams. Often, in the middle of the night when I get up for my nightly visit to the bathroom and check up on Liv, I will catch a wisp of a dream in my head just as it's flying away. I almost never remember anything the next day and it is really rare for me to remember a dream in totality.

Last week, I had my first vivid dream about an orange marmalade tabby cat. It was a large short haired cat. A female. I just seemed to know this in my dream....I also knew her name was Lady.

Now, I would never name a cat Lady. It's too...frou frou. I don't name cats Emma or Savannah or Penelope. I name them Ernest or Miss Tease or George. But...Lady? Nope. I would never pick that name. But, that is her name in my dreams.

In the first dream, I was in my current home but Liv was just a toddler. Whenever I do dream of Liv, she's almost ALWAYS a toddler, perhaps because my life was so vivid when she was that age and I was always dead tired, bone aching tired.

So, Liv the toddler and I were in my kitchen and baking something, not sure what. But this cat, Lady...was driving me nuts. She kept mewling to go outside and I knew that this was a bad idea as she is a house cat. And it was raining buckets outside. I decided to just let her out, figured that she could always slip under the outside stairs to stay dry.

Not sure what happened then, some stuff...but it is murky. The dream turned vivid again as I noticed Lady lying in the driveway. One of her arms was positioned in a sickening angle over her head and I realized that she had been hurt. I felt terrible, responsible. I should have never let this happen. I started to head out the door but then I saw an old neighbor of mine, Sven. He moved away several years ago to go to college on the west coast. He ran into some trouble and has never come back. We miss him terribly. In my dream, he was coming up the back steps holding Lady. He held the cat out to me and asked if I could fix her, that she seemed to be badly hurt.

End of dream. But,I woke up crying. Literally. Crying. I'm not sure if it was because I miss Sven so much and worry over what has happened to him or if it was that poor cat.

The next night, I had this odd dream that Lady was starring in a local high school play. She had a role as a talking cat and I was pretty impressed. She and I were sitting in my living room and I was talking to her. She didn't talk back (guess I'm not totally nutso yet) but she was listening and looking at me so seriously, as if listening. I was telling her that Bing hadn't gotten any grants or offers to travel this year, so would be staying home all summer long teaching a summer course at a local university (true) and that Liv would be home as well since her father is working in a dangerous area of the country and can't have Liv visit. So..we will all be home together all summer, something that hasn't happened in a few years. I didn't know how I felt about this. I was telling the cat that I had planned to have an affair over the summer (huh?) and now, well..I certainly could not.

That dream ended. And seriously, folks...I have NO plans to cheat on my spouse. Ever.

Well, I was kind of freaked out by these dreams, so I asked Bing if we could visit the Humane Society on Sunday to look for Lady. It says a LOT about Bing that she was good with it, even encouraged us to look for this cat. She is allergic to cats and so is Liv. I honestly have no idea what we would have done if we found Lady. But, of course, we didn't find her. We saw lots and lots of orange tabby cats but they were all males.

Then last night, I had another dream of Lady. This time she looked different. She was no longer a short haired cat but a long haired one,but still an orange marmalade cat. I knew it was Lady. She was hurt in some way, but I don't know how, I just seemed to know this. Worse...I knew that it was Bing who injured her. It had been an accident, but I was really, really ticked off that Bing wasn't more apologetic about it. I was sitting on the sofa in my living room, an old black sofa that I had in my first home. I got rid of it years ago. But, that is what I was sitting on. I was with my Da, who has been dead for over 40 years. He and I were petting the cat and she was sooooo happy, arching her back and purring loudly. He was scratching her ears and telling me exactly how to do it properly so she would enjoy it the most. Da looked up at me and said, "Maria, you know you have to find this cat. It won't be easy, but it must be done." I agreed, sighing. I was embarrassed in my dream because although he didn't say anything, I felt like he knew that Bing had been the one who hurt her. I didn't want to talk about this with my Da, felt as if I were being disrespectful to Bing. Like...betraying her. So, I didn't say anything. I just kept petting her.

And then I woke up. Of course, I nudged Bing and when she woke up, I told her the dream. Her first words were: "God, honey...it was a DREAM. PLEASE don't make me sleep in the guest room because you are mad about something I did in a dream!"

I told her not to be silly. She kissed me, solemnly apologized for hurting a cat in my dream and fell back asleep.

But, you know...I felt PISSED off at her. Like...HOW COULD YOU HURT LADY?

Silly ,I know. I even felt annoyed at her when I woke up this morning.

So...obviously...something sort of big is going on here and I'm not catching on since my subconscious feels the need to keep repeating the cat theme.

Any ideas, Sherlocks?

Because I already know how smart y'all are.

I did look it up in my dream dictionary and it said something about a cat representing female prowess, etc. I just don't think this applies.

Anyone want to knock me over with a brilliant idea?

And you know...sometimes it takes fresh eyes to see something that everyone else misses.

So..your mission, should you decide to accept it is...

Interpret that dream!

May the force be with you, and the odds be ever in your favor and um...just...

HELP!