I've not been writing lately not because I don't love you, but because Comcast has afforded me approximately two minutes of internet a day, and really, who doesn't consider Facebook more important than blogging?
Even now, I'm hoping this will post. The tech comes out NEXT TUESDAY. Until then, I'll try my best, and also make contorted faces every time I pass the office and cannot use the most important device in the office.
"The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is 'What does a woman want?'" - Freud "Memories and possibilities are ever more hideous than realities. " - H.P. Lovecraft "I love you only because it's you the one I love." - Pablo Neruda
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Balancing
I've been a little lost in translation because I've been trying to figure out what makes me feel like this...
The boy has joined a group that is, for lack of a better (or more current) word, a community organizing group. He loves it. He does, he does, he tells me at length every night about the group's plans and decisions, and he tells me about meeting all these new people who really seem to get him.
This, I think, is wonderful. Too much time spent with ourselves is a bit soul-destroying. I'm so happy, and dare I say, proud of him, for making this choice and being so happy.
The downside for me is that when he tells me his stories, it reminds me of times in my life when I had that sort of support. I got my M.Ed. in counseling and in order to do that, I had to take a class in group therapy. Until then, I had been been completely adverse to group therapy. How could I trust a circle of strangers when I still make my friends jump through hoops before I could trust them? But this class, and this mini-group therapy really helped. I trusted that group. It also reminds me of being the president of an animal rights group in law school, and how those meetings really inspired me.
I want the boy to do his damnded best in these groups. And I think I need more interactions.
The boy has joined a group that is, for lack of a better (or more current) word, a community organizing group. He loves it. He does, he does, he tells me at length every night about the group's plans and decisions, and he tells me about meeting all these new people who really seem to get him.
This, I think, is wonderful. Too much time spent with ourselves is a bit soul-destroying. I'm so happy, and dare I say, proud of him, for making this choice and being so happy.
The downside for me is that when he tells me his stories, it reminds me of times in my life when I had that sort of support. I got my M.Ed. in counseling and in order to do that, I had to take a class in group therapy. Until then, I had been been completely adverse to group therapy. How could I trust a circle of strangers when I still make my friends jump through hoops before I could trust them? But this class, and this mini-group therapy really helped. I trusted that group. It also reminds me of being the president of an animal rights group in law school, and how those meetings really inspired me.
I want the boy to do his damnded best in these groups. And I think I need more interactions.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
An Interruption In Service
Lost in thought, the kind that I've not decided tht I'll share.
Back soon.
Back soon.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Energy on HIGH
Just got home, and after working on some much-neglected emails and billing, the phone rang. The boy! Yay! I chattered at him about my day. He told me he woke up an hour ago. I helpfully suggested that maybe a bender would put him to sleep. He wisely shot down that idea.
What? A bender doesn't seem like a good idea? What is this world coming to? What are we, nearing 40 years....
Damn.
Anyhoo, I guess that he should not be the first person I talk to when I get home, because I'm chock-full of news and stories and fun tidbits and plans for the rest of the week and ideas about fork-stabbings and much mocking of a singing cat. The boy asks, "Are you manic?" No, I tell him, this is actually my normal energy level after a full night of sleep and some good news at the courthouse.
Needless to say, less than five minutes passed before he decided he needed to go brush his teeth. (Bringing the sexy in this relationship, I tell ya!)
I think I need to go find a treadmill to dance on or a boxing man to slap around. I'll be calmer later when you call back, baby.
What? A bender doesn't seem like a good idea? What is this world coming to? What are we, nearing 40 years....
Damn.
Anyhoo, I guess that he should not be the first person I talk to when I get home, because I'm chock-full of news and stories and fun tidbits and plans for the rest of the week and ideas about fork-stabbings and much mocking of a singing cat. The boy asks, "Are you manic?" No, I tell him, this is actually my normal energy level after a full night of sleep and some good news at the courthouse.
Needless to say, less than five minutes passed before he decided he needed to go brush his teeth. (Bringing the sexy in this relationship, I tell ya!)
I think I need to go find a treadmill to dance on or a boxing man to slap around. I'll be calmer later when you call back, baby.