Explain Me To Me

Why am I so concerned about not getting a return phone call from someone I'm not really interested in involving myself with?

Yes, I know, evidence abounds about my endless need for attention. But still, this one? He's not a good distraction. Yet he can read my messy, unattractive parts, and call me on them. I hate that part, yet I need to know.

He's been a friend for what feels like 100 years, but is more likely to be 15 or so. I think it's because we've had crushes on each other since we met. Still, that's not a good enough reason to worry about this.

My best guess is that I'm not very good with people wandering in and out of my life. I fight it with every fiber of my being. I adore them wandering in. I hate them wandering out.

Darling, Darling Boy

It's funny how I fall in love with him, again, every day.

Pick A Topic

I know, I told you that there'd be stories today. Still, I find that I'm blank. So here's my random thoughts of the day:

1. Thanksgiving is a holiday that I generally don't care about. Until the day. Stupid me, I pretend to just blow the day off, but really, I wish I could have the kind of day that I see on TV commercials.

2. I've inherited the insomnia from a friend of mine. I told him this afternoon that I spent all last night cursing his name. He laughed when he heard the whole story. I didn't giggle too much, because I've been awake since 11:30 last night.

3. Oddly, though, I feel pretty good today. I got to harass my boy, and talk to my friend, and I managed to avoid anything relating to Black Friday. (Read: Watched a What Not To Wear marathon. Speaking of which, and relating back to #2, I'm very grateful that there was a House marathon on until 5am. Then I switched to Angel. Upset that The West Wing wasn't on later.)

4. Momma and I went walking today, for the second day. I'm so happy to see her manage inclines and declines. I imagine she's pretty sore.

5. For B. "If I Had A Million Dollars" is playing. I miss you.

6. It's strange that while Wade is closer to me in proximity, we talk substantially less. I miss her.

7. Ooh, I'm getting a Christmas present from my boy. I'd absolutely post what I'm getting for him, but now that he reads this, ummm, not so much. But I promise to post it after I know he has it. Is it bad that I want to tell him what I want?

Greedy

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

btw, I hate it when people refer to today as Turkey Day. I think I hate it in the same vein that I hate it when people shorten my name.

Umm...lots to tell all y'all, but it's a busy evening so I can't talk much tonight.

I don't do anything on Black Friday, so be assured that I will chatter my head off to you tomorrow.

One thing though - I love my boy as much as he loves me. He's a precious gift to me.

Brave New World

Today I'm thinking about the difference that technology has made in my life. I was a late-comer to getting a beeper, I mocked my friends who had early cell phones, and I refused to blog or join social networking sites for years.

This topic came up because a while ago, I updated my Facebook status to ask about some friends I knew from high school. These two guys definitely had an impact on my development, and although we rarely kept in touch, occassionally they'd pop into my head and wonder about them.

One of my friends commented that he had heard about them, and I was amazed. Last night, my phone rang. It was one of the guys I asked about!

This is why I think the techonologies are pretty amazing. Sometimes I feel silly spending time on the sites. Sometimes I think there's a reason the past is past, and I should focus more on my future. Still, I spend a lot of time in this head of mine, and I have always wondered whatever happened to people I cared about at one point in time.

It was great to hear from him; I hope we might try to stay in touch more often. We'll see. You, people, and I know how well that went before.

Watch It, It'll Swing

And so my mood comes back to decent. However, if I have to sit in the front room (read: my bedroom) any more tonight while Momma's there, then I have no guarantees.

Thanks to you who read this and even pretend to understand my strange life.

Now, if you happen to actually know me, calling tonight wouldn't suck.

Tomorrow, it'll be partly cloudy, cold, and have a chance of pedicures. Imagine me driving ~20 miles without shoes. It's pretty funny. But more importantly, what color shall I have my toes painted?

Even, even, even more important question: Do any of you have any good knowledge of PhotoShop? 'Cos I've got work to do, people, work on the new photos! Why let an undoctored photo ever leave your own possession?

What's Wrong Here?

It's raining today, the kind of rain I generally enjoy - slow, quiet, ongoing. The kind of rain that makes me want to curl up with a book and/or my boy and laze away the day.

Today, though, something's off. Instead of being comforting, the rain just feels grey and gloomy. It's making my mood not good.

I think it's because I would rather be alone. And that one thing is what I really want, really need, really crave, yet I cannot have it.

So go out! people tell me. But the problem is not that I can't go out. I can leave anytime I want. The problem is, I will have to come back. Come back to an apartment that I used to refer to as my house. It's no longer mine. Nothing is mine anymore.

And sometimes, even that doesn't bother me so much. What really gets me, what drives this depression and anger, is that no-one asked for my permission. No-one said, "Hey, do you mind if I commandeer your life?" And I'm being overly dramatic here.

But it would be nice to be asked before she takes my clothes.

WADE!!!

I got spend a good chunk of my day with one of my BFFs, Wade. I haven't seen her since around my birthday in March. I had such a lovely day with her, and I also got to remember why I hate that she lives far away.

We went to Best Buy and wished that we could buy Rock Band. I know, again, that I'm a Johnny-come-lately here, but still, I can only imagine the amount of time I'd spend playing that game. Plus, on a couple of versions, there's a song by Garbage. We next visited the appliances. Here's where I know I'm getting old - omigod, I know I'll be dreaming of washers and dryers with settings I never knew existed.

We went next to Target, where she tried almost every sample, and we explored plate settings.

We later took pictures of me for my boy. He's been endlessly begging for recent pictures of me. So we did, and we learned that my camera eats batteries, and that some of those fuzzy shots are fabulous, and that my neighbor was willing to loan us his headlights for the photos. Mind you, he laughed his head off the entire time.

I hate that she lives so far away. Wow, I'd gotten so used to talking to her on the phone that I thought that was OK. Now, what I really really want is for her to move her family back here. Yeah, I know it won't happen, but a girl can dream, right?

For my in-town friends - we need to get together more often.

Things I Listened To

Along my (dating) life, I learned a few things that changed how I live my life. Here you can read a few...

1. Don't chew gum. (My Momma told me this - by way of telling me it looked like I was chewing cud, and then a boy I really liked told me that he also disliked gum-chewing.)

2. Don't have bangs. (I always hated having them as a child, but, again, that same boy said the same.)

3. Wear cute shoes. (More than one person has told me that women are more beautiful in heels.)

4. Wear my hair down. (Apparently, it's sexier to have my hair down than constructed.)

5. Dress well. (One of my friends loves to watch his girl friends try on clothes that flatter them.)

6. Always use eye cream. (My sister has told me this since I was 15. Even though she drives me crazy, she's completely correct.)

YES!

My baby girl, my favorite friend, my crazy-ass woman, B., has PASSED THE BAR!!!!

Not that we thought that she wouldn't.

Congratu-fucking-lations, baby!!!

Now, please, endlessly show me up. Meet me in court and introduce me to my baby steps.

Love And Little White Lies

This is a favorite song from one of my favorite singers...ever. Behold the glory of Marc Almond. Such a gorgeous voice, such amazing lyrics.


(All night, can't you feel my heart?)
Every day I watch my mirror
Getting a little older, wiser, sadder with the years

Missed chances
Forgotten romances
Starting now to loosen with the tears

I could fall in love
Any time, any place, any where
But I spent last night
Treading on valentines
Treading on valentines

You know it didn't mean a thing
I didn't give it give two damns
You know I thought I'd never fall in love
It only worked in films

Response, responsibilities, bravery, hardship
Giving up and giving too

Here's little things I think I mean
Some consequence to you

I'll never get the chance again
Faces heartbreakingly wonderful
All flash by me
Steaming neons in the rain
Diamonds down the memory drain

But you inspire me, fuel and fire me
Never leave me
Or deceive me
We could sit out winter evenings
Laughing over love and little white lies
Sit out winter evenings
Laughing over love and little white lies

Bitter coffee
Stomach aching
Pass the time while our hearts are breaking
I've got faith in you
So don't lose have faith in me

Misty mornings
Damp in sorrow
Love me just the same tomorrow
Something blue and something borrowed
And a bruise inside of me

I'm drunk on your delivery
Intoxicated by your eyes
Got to find an antidote
Before we say goodbye
Car wrecks and romantic moons
With you and I the stars
We're somewhere in a midnight movie
Somewhere off afar

There's no ice cream in the interlude
No sweets or cigarettes
Just you and I
And a cast of thousands
Trying to forget
We could sit singing songs for suckers
Blacked out with hymns of pain and sorrow
Oh kiss me once before you go
I may be dust tomorrow

Every day I watch my mirror
Getting a little older, wiser, sadder with the years
Missed chances
Forgotten romances
Starting now to loosen with the tears
My heart is pulsing brilliant red
And you know red's a colour for sin and danger
Ready now to take my chance
With any handy stranger

People will always
Love and love and love and love and love
But what the hell
We fool each other
When we've suffered through enough

But you inspire me
Fuel and fire me
Never leave me
Or deceive me
We could sit out winter evenings
Laughing over love and little white lies
Sit out winter evenings
Laughing over love and little white lies

Oh can't you feel my heart
Can't you feel my heart

Far Too Influenced

And no, I don't mean far too under the influence. Shut up.

It's been a topsy-turvy day. I enjoyed a morning of solitude. And by "enjoyed", I mean that I watched my TV shows while waiting to hear either the door open or the walker creak. I guess that I'm still overly attentive to the sound that my Momma might need me. Yes, yes, I overworry; that's been established.

I cooked today. That's rare. I made a vegetarian pot pie and some baked potatoes. Not exactly Top Chef, but as we know, I am not a gourmand.

Momma's physical therapist came over today and dropped a new bomb. Context: I decided earlier that Momma could handle more tasks on her own, like plugging in her own cell when it needs charging and getting her own cans of Diet Coke. The new bomb? Apparently Momma is walking too much and shouldn't work so hard.

Every single positive step has just gone to shit. Momma listens closely to what her doctors and therapists say, and does not trust her instincts.

My life just got delayed by at least another 6 weeks.

This angers me beyond belief, and also just makes me want to leave. Choose your own interpretation of "leave", if only because I haven't decided yet.

Ack!

This is my first Twitter breakdown. It's annoying because I want to just be pithy, but I can't here, because blogging and tweeting are two very different mediums.

Waiting, and waiting, and waiting for my boy to call me back. I sometimes wonder if my hatred for his bad phone battery is the reason that his bad phone battery craps out.

Ah, technology.

Contortions

Tomorrow we find out whether B. passed the bar. I know she's tied in 100,000 knots, which is probably about one-half more than I am right now. I just really, really want her to pass. More than that, I almost need her to pass. I'm not sure I could handle the guilt if she hits another wall. It would be incredibly unfair for me to have passed and her not to.

She's so damn good at this stuff. She's got the fire and the eye for detail that's required of attorneys. Me? I've got the interest and the ability. But isn't that such a huge distinction?

As Momma put it, B. has the passion for the work. She really, really wants to do this. For me, it's a job. One I'll be good at, admittedly, but not one that will ever be my raison d' etre.

So join me, all you out there, in keeping your fingers crossed and sending your best wishes to my amazing, beautiful, funny, sarcastic, deserving friend.

CLE-rific

And, my boy, if you're reading this, apologies in advance for using the same subject header.

The class was interesting, as you can see by looking to your right and reading my recent Tweets.

There's a lot I don't know about personal injury law. What I learned today is this: Car accidents are the way to go!

I'm not sure how that works, or what it means, or just how long it'll be before I think precisely the same way.

The best part of the CLE was learning how these lawyers think, as applied to their cases and to their choices.

I respect their work. Still, a very eye-opening day. I'm glad I got to go.

Emergency Broadcast System

I have two older siblings. One is eight years older; the other six. When I was young, they were allowed (read: forced) to babysit me when the parents went out.

It didn't take them long to figure out that the scariest sound in the world to poor, three-year-old me was the sirens that rang out when the Emergency Broadcast System (EBS) came on TV. The sound more than scared me, it turned me into a quivering ball of teary-eyed jelly.

So what did my adored siblings do when the EBS came on? One would hold me down, while the other raced to the television to crank the volume as high as possible. (Yes, I am old enough to remember when televisions didn't have remote controls.) I would scream and cry and try to get away, but a three-year-old's got nothing on a nine-year-old, and even less on an eleven-year-old. Boy.

Even today, the sound still gets me. I instinctively hit the mute button on the TV or change the channel when I see the telltale green screen or the beginning of that dreaded sound. I've been known to run from other parts of the house just to make the noise stop.

The point of this? That damned EBS has been on at least 3 times this week.

No wonder I can't sleep.

How I Know My Day Is Lame

I'm looking at WikiQuote for my favorite TV shows, so I can read other people's ideas of what were good quotes from each episode.

Later, I plan to stick my head in the oven. Feel free to place bets on whether or not I turn said oven on, and if you're a fantasy football fan, you can include the degree amount in your bets. If I decide to turn it on, I'll be sure to leave a note with the exact temperature so someone can win.

Why I Don't Drink Coffee

Unlike apparently 80% of the population, I do not drink coffee. I don't like coffee, and I don't understand why other people do.

I mean, aside from mixers in alcoholic drinks, what other beverage out there causes people to change its flavor from the get-go? I know very few people who drink black coffee. There's creamers, sugars, pseudo-sugars, milk, whatever. If you don't like the taste of what you're drinking, why drink it?

I'm also not a big fan of the smell of coffee. Last week I had to go to Starbucks (ack!) for my sister. She made me order this: Venti skinny cinnamon dolce latte nonfat milk no whip no foam. I felt like I was speaking Latin. Hipster Latin. For the next few days, my car reeked of that mess.

Yup, I'm sticking to my insatiable Diet Mt. Dew addiction. Good caffeine, good taste.

Wow, I Needed This

Via Twitter, I came across this:

Days with My Father.

It really put into perspective what I'm doing with Momma now. I must try to remember the grace and the comfort that comes with caring for another person.

The photos are gorgeous, and the sentiment is so real and so in the moment, that I was completely taken aback.

All of you with parents, especially those with older parents, should really take the 10 minutes or so to read through the site.

Even O. Henry Couldn't Have Imagined This

You guys know that one of my huge fears is that my boy will read this mess of mine. For a while now, so much of what I've written sounds like a love letter to him. (Thanks for indulging me, and still continuing to read.)

The other day, I sent him the link to the page with the most recent photos of Monte Sano. I didn't worry too much because he told me that he's really not interesting in read this. Fine by me.

Cut to yesterday, when I was reading the stats on the blog, and I saw that my numbers had almost doubled from when I last checked. (I am not obsessive compulsive. Really.) I saw that all the most recent hits were from my boy. Holy crap! I about had a heart attack. I called Wade, all freaked out that he would finally realize what a dork I am and run far, far away. I emailed him and said, "You're reading it, aren't you?" He emailed back that he was, just a little.

Last night when he called me, I told him that he had not been reading it "just a little", and that I could see which posts he was reading, and how long he spent on each page. I told him that I knew that he had spent almost an hour reading through various posts.

He seemed more taken aback that I knew all that detail on his activities than I felt about him reading this. I mean, I talked myself down some before he called me. Yes, this is a public site. Yes, I know people read it. And if there's something I want to hide, probably the best way to keep it secret is NOT to post it here.

He even read this post, which is the most honest I've been about how I feel about him. His reaction? "I'm glad I can be your safe place to land."

Ladies and gentlemen, do you see why I adore him so?

For Once, For A Day

It's been a decent day. Apologies for the bitch-fest below. I warned you that I might need to complain. Chances are, it'll happen again.

For anyone else who blogs, does doing this writing sometimes feel like writing a letter? It feels like that for me, for tonight.

Momma's getting stronger. She can get herself up and down (mostly) and is well on the path to being walker-less. According to her physical therapist, this could (and should) happen before the new year. That would be LOVELY!!

Her recovery means that again, I can dream about my own life. The one I was just beginning, the one I want again. I'm feeling greedy that I want my own life. Sometimes I feel like a fake when I'm nice to Momma.

Hell, sometimes I feel like a fake in my own life. Que sera, sera.

I Am A Jerk

This is so hard for me. It's a tricky difference between having my mother here with me, and having to care for her.

If you don't know, let me run through a version of my day.

5am - wake up, because she might need my help to get to the bathroom and back. If she can do it herself, hell, I'm still awake just in case.

6am - hear my phone ring, because that's Momma's and my safety net. If she's not actually calling, I can still hear it. Which means I wake up.

(Also: watching Angel.)

7am - wake up, because I don't know what will happen or where I'm needed. Check in. Pray, and pray, and pray that she's asleep so I might get another hour.

7am - switch to The West Wing. Nap. Wake up. Nap.

10am - Momma gets herself out. Mind you, she's been awake for a while and is bitter that that stays back in the (my) bedroom for that long.

10:10am - I ask what she wants for breakfast. She tosses on her hairshirt. Yet, I get her food.

10:15 - 1 or 2 - try to be nice.

2-3: Pray that she wants to nap. At this point, generally, no, which means we're going to have problems as it relates to TiVo.

4-5: I make her a version of what would be a dinner. She finally wants a nap. I celebrate, because, really people, I need a break!

6-8: She wakes back up and comes out. By now, I'm remembering just how much I like to be alone. I am also waiting for (or dialing) my calls.

8-10: I'm getting her down for bed. Generally, it's closer to 10 than 8.

10-1am: This is my free time. I can catch up with friends and my boy.

If this is/was your life, than tell me about it. If you feel judgmental, then fuck you. This is my life every single day.

Also: I get really tired about hearing that I need to work more to get a job. Really? Are you planning to come over to do my work? (Which I will not expound upon because it's not my business.)

Good Lord, People!

While I'm recognizing the irony of what I'm doing, I do have to ask you questions.

Are you, my readers, reading me because I rabidly blog? Because I can (almost) always find something to write about? Or is it me?

Do I need your attention that much? It seems like a yin/yang situation. To be honest, I do check my readership stats daily. I check because 1) I need to see who's reading, and 2) it's an easy way to see what you find interesting.

So, please, do me a favor. Almost all of you don't comment on what I write. So riddle me this: what do you want me to write about? What would you prefer I never write about again? Anything you want me to specifically address?

Love Letters

In my feeble attempt to clean up my office, I started going through my files. Truth be told, I should not even have to do this, but the geniuses who packed my apartment in DC decided to pull the files from the filing cabinent and put them into boxes, instead of just taping the damn cabinet shut.

Bygones.

The two boxes are pretty chaotic, since the paperwork in the files fell all over the place while in transit. So last night, while talking to my boy, I just started reaching in a box to grab whatever was there. There's a lot of silly stuff; papers I thought I'd need forever, but while most likely be shredded. Well, they'll get shredded as soon as I have a strong urge to take 25 bags of shredded paper to the garbage.

I found some other papers, papers that I will keep. Papers that I immediately recognized, but could not read at the time because I was talking to my boy and it seemed unfair. I also knew I'd get lost in memories and as much fun as that is, I need to focus on now and the future. And I know that the boy is my future.

So, today I'm indulging myself. I found old love letters from three past boyfriends. The letters are amazing to read, not only because it absolutely amazes me that someone loved me enough to put it in writing and mail a letter to me, but also because the letters are such snapshots in time.

The first are from Ryan, who was my first love. The letters are young, silly, and so very careful. It's like he was afraid to express his feelings in writing, which isn't too strange, considering that we were 16-ish. I doubt my letters to him were much better. Still, I have letters and cards from him over time. The first letters are from when I first moved, and the last are from 1997. That's an 8-year affair. Needless to say, our relationship was very rocky.

The next set are from Thomas, who I dated when I was 18-19. His letters are careful, but for a different reason. Where Ryan lived more with his heart on his sleeve, Thomas was more reticent to express his feelings. In later letters, he did tell me his feelings, and I'm so glad that I got to know him during that time.

The last set are from Jim, who I dated when I was 22-23. Jim's letters are gorgeous, because he found it easy to tell me how he felt about me. He also was (is?) a very good writer. He got his inspiration from music and that inform his skills.

OK, enough of that. I hope I get to keep these letters forever. Every few years I like to indulge myself in remininescence, and the letters are a great way for me to remember the girl I was.

Impatience

I'm so glad that Momma is doing better. It's funny to think that my sister is taking all the credit, but whatever.

Finally, after a lot of emails, I got some time with my boy. I hid from Momma and let her watch SVU so I could talk. By the end of the program, I had to get her to bed. No, she doesn't need as much help anymore, but I'm still not going to ignore her to talk.

I told my boy I'd call him back within ten minutes. I did. I got his voicemail. So now I wait, and I hope he will return my call.

I just need to finish our talk.

Yuppie

Today, my brother-in-law needed me to go with him to pick up Momma's car from the repair shop. We went in his rental. My job was to drive the rental back, while he took Momma's car to get the tires rotated and balanced. He rented a Trailblazer.

(I am not a fan of SUVs. If you don't believe me, ask Wade. I give her endless piles of shit for owning an Expedition, which I lovingly refer to as the Exorbitant. [Thanks, The Onion!])

So I backed out of the parking lot. I began to drive this thing, while listening to the station that my sister and brother-in-law had chosen. Of course it was easy listening, but fine, whatever. Like I don't have any cheese in me.

To my surprise and horror and OMIGOD surprise, I loved driving this thing. It was even better when Lionel Richie's You Are came on the radio. I cranked the song and car danced while driving with my knees. I enjoyed the vantage point that come with being in a taller vehicle.

Crap. Crap. Crap. What if my environmental sensibilities just exploded with that drive?

I'm Asking Santa For A New Camera

Because I've got family here, I was able to sneak out and go up to Monte Sano for more pictures. It was great to get away, even if it was later in the afternoon than I had planned. So here's the latest installment of pictures of the mountain.

This is a water fountain, I think. I like the stone work.


Again, I was trying to get the vibrancy of the leaves changing colors.
















And, finally, the leaves beneath my feet.



Now that I'm back at my house, I miss the mountain already.

He Can Read My Mind

Last night was tough. A lot of it was on me, because I made bad choices early which means that I got a lot more emotional than I should be later on. In between conversations with my boy, I got interrupted by my Momma and my sister. Luckily, finally, when I got off the phone with my boy, I decided to call it a night, even though I knew he would call me back.

He did. I was already asleep. I'm glad that we didn't talk again, because I would have picked a mother-of-God fight with him because I was so frustrated with my sister.

Around 1 this afternoon, he called to check on me. I explained why I didn't answer, and he said, "Thank you." I've told you already about a miserable fight we had a few months ago, and how I never want to repeat that mess.

An hour or so ago, he called to check on me again. We had a lovely conversation, and I'm so glad that I decided that not talking last night was a wise decision. Still, it felt like he read my mind. A minute or two before he called, I was thinking of calling him.

It's weird. It's perfect. I, again, cannot wait for my vacation.

Awkward Conversations

Just a bit ago, I saw an old law school friend on Trillian. If you don't know what Trillian is, just look it up.

At the beginning, Kelly and I were pretty friendly. Over time, though, we started to get close to other people. The only time we were friendly after the change was when we would be in the overhangs, smoking cigarettes. Really, people, it's amazing how nice you can be while indulging in nicotine.

Tonight was the first time we messaged since even before law school graduation. Her tone was nice at first, and then a bit short. My tone was needy, and that I wish we could talk the issues over.

I'm sorry for what happened. I think she should be as well. I was needy; she was controlling.

Is there a happy medium? And by happy medium, I mean leave it well enough alone?

(Best part: My boy tells me that I'm stunningly beautiful.)

The Downside To Facebook

I've enjoyed Facebook for the most part. I find it a slightly classier alternative to MySpace, about which I could bitch endlessly. On Facebook, the interface is cleaner, and if you're not me, it's a lot easier to use.

The downside is that people feel safer to add others. The real downside to this is that I've got a lot of friends added from college. College was a long time ago. A really long time ago. As in, I got my bachelors' degrees (Yes, I have two, so that's the correct punctuation) in 1995.

Wait - it's not bad that I have friends from college. What's bad is that friends of my friends scan through those friends' friend lists and find me. When they add me as a friend, I look at the friends we have in common to see if I know them. Apparently I do.

OK, OK, you're right. The downside is that I have such a bad memory that when these new friends of friends whom I ostensibally know contact me, I can't think of a nice way to say, "Do I know you?"

Weekend Plans

Despite my intimate knowledge of the best laid plans going straight to hell, here are mine:

1. Don't kill family members.

2. Take newly-received Alabama State Bar certificate to be framed. Possibly spend far too much money on this.

3. Go up on Monte Sano and take some more pictures. I think the trees are finally good. Plus, my boy sent me photos of the harbor near him, so I want to match those.

4. Ignore hunger pangs.

5. See if I can do more than ten push-ups. That's just a pathetic number, especially when compared to the 150 crunches I do each night.

6. Don't verbally kill family members.

7. Find secret compartment in apartment where I can hide from family members.

8. Dream of Tuesday morning, when I will be rid of visiting family members. Possibly have cocktail before noon, just to show what a rebel I am.

9. Work on new driving CD. Try to figure out why my mp3-to-wav decoder is crapping out on certain tracks. These tracks, incidentially, are the only ones I really, really want on said CD.

10. See if I can get lost in Huntsville. Leave cell phone at home to increase hiding chances.

Sleepy...Not Cheerful

Last night was a long night. No expected phone call, and that sucks because with my sister and brother-in-law here for the next few days, everything will be topsy-turvy. Mom was up at 3am, again at 5am, and my brother called at 8:30am to check on her. Needless to say, I am very tired. No nap for me though! I get to finish cleaning the apartment for the imminent familial arrival.

I really, really miss my life. I miss being alone most of the time. I miss not having to clean up someone else's used Kleenixes. I would give just about anything for some more time alone in my apartment.

My boy invited me up to visit him for two weeks. I asked him if it would be all right if I spent ten of those days completely by myself. And yet, my planned vacation to see him will be about that time frame. I'm nothing if not a contradiction in terms.

I don't know how I can do this all the time for the next few months. I mean, I certainly can - I don't really have a vote. But some days, like today, it drains my spirit to try to be the sole source of support for someone else.

Days like today remind me why I don't want kids. But when my boy asks me if I do want them, I find myself wavering. I guess what I can do is reread this post every time I think I might want to breed.

Sorry for the meandering thoughts. Imagine living in this brain!

All I Ever Wanted

I'm making my vacation plans. I've finally settled on a timeframe to go to Seattle to see my boy. While I'm there, we plan to go to the mountains and ski, or snowboard, or stay inside all day and watch the view.

This means it's time to step up my goals. I'm counting on you guys to keep me motivated and accountable as I work hard to reach my goals. I've got 19 weeks to lose the weight I need to get off, to find a job that will allow me to take 10 days off in late March, and to continue to motivate Momma in her recovery.

I cannot tell you how excited I am to have vacation dates. And because I love all of you, I promise to write about what my boy and I are doing while I'm there. I know, I know, it's 19 weeks away! Still, I'm thrilled for the possibilities and fun we'll have. And if that's what's making me work harder now, well, I'll take it.

So Happy To Be Wrong

Today Momma's physical therapist came by the apartment. He was a wealth of information about what to expect with her recovery. She should feel 100% stronger within the month. This is wonderful news.

It's entirely possible that she could return to work next month. I'm still placing my bet on her returning second semester, but we'll see.

I thought that her moving limitations would be permanent. Right now, she must only move less than 90 degrees latitudinally and longitudinally. I told the therapist that she'd never move as freely as I do. He told me that she absolutely would.

Sunshine and rainbows surround both of us right now. I think I might be more excited than her. Not surprising, since I'm not the one with real pain right now.

I'm just so glad that we had a good day. Momma and I talked about how happy we were to have a good day, so when there's bad days, we can remember that it's not always going to be like this.

New Role - Caretaker

There's a strong chance that the hospital will release Momma to my care today. Does the hospital even consider what a bad idea this is? She had the surgery on Thursday afternoon, and the folks at the hospital think it's a good idea to send her to me? I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm petrified that I'm going to hurt her.

So this new chapter begins. You will read quite a bit about what it's like to take care of a recuperating Momma. You will read about my mistakes (legion) and my successes (few). I will be brutally honest about how all this feels and how her recovery goes.

You will read my complaints about having to do this. You will occasionally think that I'm a completely selfish bitch when I complain. That's fine. Just remember that whatever you think of me, I have already thought of it. I know that I can be selfish and immature and ungrateful.

What I will do is the best I can. I will talk to you because I really don't have anyone else who will listen to me without telling me that I'm doing a great job and it'll all be OK. From this side, I feel like an abject failure already and I think that I will never again have my life back. This infuriates me. I just got my life started and now it's on hold again.

But let's be clear. I don't want Momma to return to her house and her husband. I know I can take better care of her here. I know she feels safe here, and that feeling is important to her recovery. I want nothing more than for Momma to be happy and healthy.

It's bound to be a rocky journey.

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

Something occurred to me tonight. Well, to be honest, it's been occurring in my mind since last night. I've spent a lot of time second-guessing myself, worrying about the future and my plans.

Now, I want nothing more than to get the hell over myself. Why am I worried about marketing myself? I'm pretty damn awesome, and I'm good at what I do. Why not show it off?

I've been thinking that my sole role is to take care of Momma. You know what? It's not my only duty. My first and foremost role is to get myself in a good position. It's time to fight for employment, be it in a firm, a small practice, or finally getting out on my own and hanging my shingle.

I really am very tired of being filled with self-doubt and self-loathing. I can only imagine how much I've exhausted my friends, who have given me wells of support and love. It's time to return the favor and become who I'm born to be.

Powerful. Strong. Capable. An amazing woman; one who surrounds herself with unbelievable (and gorgeous) people who care for me.

Thank you to all my friends who have been pushing for this. Thank you to my boy for kicking my ass into shape.

I promise, I will not disappoint.