absolutely insane

My grand scheme is working out so far. Besides it being completely crazy.



WORK and Errands re: the children's summer camps on Monday.

Moving truck on Tuesday.

Psych appt in Tampa on Wednesday.

Conner's graduation on Thursday.

Cora's Science Fair on Friday.

Cora's Bday party on Saturday.

Fly out at 5:50 am on Sunday.


I am seriously not ready for any of this, not the damn science fair, not the moving truck. Not Seattle/Vancouver/Whitehorse.

questioning him, myself, and everything

Ok, remember when I said I was done blogging about dating... uh yeah. so much for that.

So- the story is that for the past 8 weeks I've been dating this great guy, who creepily fills a lot of the requirements I set out over the past few years, which after all my failures, I'd tack on to the drawing board that I kept on returning to.

I said I wanted to date someone who's an anthrop, someone who's smarter, faster, stronger than me, someone who likes -no- who LOVES coffee, and who has something to say. Someone agnostic, like I am, but who believes in a non-anthropomorphized G-d, when all is said and done.

He should think I'm absolutely marvelous, he should be non-plussed by the fact that I have children, he should be willing to disagree with me on some things and should be ethical and love outdoor places.

He also happens, in real life, to be a Republican, to like Equal in his iced tea (baffles me entirely), to keep his bedroom messy, and to hunt large game. And I don't even know if that's the proper usage of the phrase "large game".


And I've been happy, being appreciated and pursued. The object of my affection enthusiastically treks across campus to see me for the 5 minutes our midday schedules allow and puts his arm around me protectively in public and texts just to say nice things sometimes.

But I'm suddenly afraid, too. I'm afraid that I'm un-please-able. I'm afraid that I will sabotage things because I am crazy or I don't want to be happy or something ridiculous.

I'm worried that I'm slower, weaker, and stupider or that I'm not willing to argue enough (good naturedly, of course), or well enough, on matters of science and politics.
And I'm terribly worried that, like B, he's rejecting the concept of defining the relationship because I'm just not nearly good enough. Don't worry, my LOGICAL side knows that if that's what he thinks, well then good riddance, and so on and so forth, but my emotional side wants to know if I'll ever come back from that awful twist of reality.


But let me defend my guy, and the state of things as they stand right now before you think he's anything like B!!

First of all, he's the first to say that you don't have to SAY "now we're bf/gf and we're not dating anyone else" because if it's so, it's so, no matter what you call it. And according to him, dating a person for a couple of months defines the relationship for you. Especially so if you wake up together regularly on weekends.

He is entirely opposed to concept of "the talk" that defines things between men and women yet we've talked about "the talk" and we've talked about the relationship (without crossing over into that which offends his sensibilities LOL!) and about what we like about all of this between us and about previous relationships that didn't go so well.

But my silent, internal counter to that is that a woman is sort of disrespected when she is "with" a man and she's not his "girlfriend". And do I want to be thought less of by everyone? Does he want me to be thought less of? For everyone to assume that I'm just NOT GOOD ENOUGH? Of course not.

But that assumption, for several reasons, is tied to legitimizing sex, and we're not having it, so... yeah.

I know.

...

We're crazy about each other and love falling asleep together and waking up together, but we're "waiting".

This might seem crazy, or right, to you. It seems like both to me, somehow.



But I'd love to know what you think about people and definitions and semantics in relationships. And about the waiting!

the achy breaky feeling

Oh my gosh, I'm serious, I just want to stick my fingers into my thoracic cavity and put my cartilage and/or rib back where it needs to be!

I went ice skating late last Saturday night with Brennan (to break up the monotony of paper-writing all day and night) and the Zamboni wasn't run at all for some reason. We agree that the ice was choppier than it should have been and I'm not just a total klutz. Seriously, I'm not actually bad on skates.

Anyways. I played it cool, toughed it out. It hurt a lot but we skated for another hour before I had to call it a night.

Sunday morning I woke up to the sound of myself screaming (yes, they were obscenities, I am ashamed) and then dosed myself with ibuprofen and got ready for church/garden club fundraising.

The fundraiser went well! Very exciting, can't wait to break ground and get dirty.

And Helen and I are going to Tally for the holiday to see Poppa and Lolita, yay.

Also, Conner was just in a Thanksgiving show and he was basically the STAR of the show. Well, he had one line to memorize- They met the natives, and shook their hands!- but only 4 kids in the whole PreK were asked to memorize a line. I am so proud.

And Coral is just blossoming. Ever-lovely and precious and working really hard on bringing up her reading/writing grades.

AND I lived through the hardest week of school ever :) and I have all A's.

And now I'm dating the cutest boy ever. Go me!

a few days away from all out insanity? nahhhh

"Everything will be ok, everything will be fine..." I chanted to myself as I lay huddled on the floor between the kitchen and living room.

My kids were playing upstairs, I could hear them, so I let myself just wallow for a bit, not wanting them to see me upset and knowing they would make plenty of noise coming down the stairs. At least the "everything will be ok" motivational speech was an improvement. Minutes before I was crying out that I just couldn't take it anymore.

"It" being the constant cooking and cleaning (and scrubbing, on hands and knees), over and over, with no appreciation.

First, I was making lunch. Fresh fish. My mom's recipe for red snapper; a tomato, onion, and garlic sauce. The kids had just informed me that they weren't going to eat fish (even though at the grocery store, 24 hours earlier, I asked them if they wanted some fish this week and they said YES) and then they ran upstairs to play, when I splattered red sauce all over my brand new white wrap style blouse. And then, I took to the floor, fetal-style.

Once I got up there was a blur of activity. Helen and I nearly ripped the shirt off of me as I poured ginger ale on it, and then I got out some of the spray-on stuff she has around that is miraculously formulated.

White blouse was saved.

But what about my mental health? Seriously. I'm in a bind here.

This is the situation- I have been eating mostly clean un-processed foods with the exception of some beer and a tortilla at Brian's house a few weeks ago, and a little Greek dressing on a salad I had at Ikea yesterday (origin of the dressing unknown). And this kind of eating takes more work than eating just whatever. And I honestly need to eat every 3 hours.

Planning, shopping, washing prep stuff, etc. Now, with school starting again, I have to really be on the ball, but time will be a big factor.

Now, I love my roommate, you know that. She is as important to me as my own family. And I want what's best for her, and I'd love it if she cut out fast and highly processed foods... but she's not capable of doing it for herself and I just can't do it all! I can't do all the shopping and cooking and cleaning for both of us to eat clean, and I feel terribly guilty to do it just for myself... that seems so selfish.

So I don't know what to do. Can I just lay on the floor and moan a bit more? Can I have a snack? I'm starving already.

the kind of blog post I said I'd never write

So, I've been absent from my blog. Part of it, I guess is that I've been using twitter, which makes me feel lazzzzy for large-scale blogging.

And I'm in a bit of a funk. This is the very tail end of day 4 (really?) of an all produce diet I'm trying. It's possibly the ease-in-phase for a fast (a la cousin Alicia), but it's possible that I'll just go back to my normal healthy-ish ways and give up the extremity soon.

It's hard to say. I'm having a hard time remembering WHY I started down this path some of the time, and other moments it's fine. No extreme hunger yet. Just some moping over the unnecessarily odoriferous homemade blueberry pie in my fridge that I can't even sniff at lest I devour it, and the containers of fresh baked brownie that are stored behind cabinet doors now, because they mocked me all fucking afternoon. Thanks for bringing those brownies by, Sam.

So instead of my normal fare (lots of protein, whole grains, veggies, supplemented by plenty of junk like bagels, brownies, and chicken wings), I am eating produce. Only produce.

I started off doing just raw stuff but a certain craving hit and I needed hot veggies, so I went ahead and changed the parameters for myself.

And, so far so good. I guess. I mean, I guess the GOAL is to deconstruct reality and rebuild it. I have to unravel in order to reravel, etc etc so I guess going nuts is the desired effect?? I want to "clear my mind" and spend this time NOT eating "figuring myself out". Oh yeah, and resetting my palate.


And I'm not just off meat/diary (and in the next couple of days, all food in general)... I'm off men for a good while too. I think I need to figure a lot of things out.

it's too early for this kind of nonsense

BUT I AM SEARCHING HIGH AND LOW for the stupid title to the stupid broken down Saturn. Because I get to sell it today for 200 stupid dollars. And, get this, I have been searching since before 5 am.

When do I ever wake up at 5 am??

I'll tell you when, that's an easy one: When I have a plane to catch, or someone I love has a plane to catch, or when Brian convinces me it's a good idea to wake up at 5 to go ride 30 freakin miles by bike (in the cold).

Ha, that's funny, my alarm just went off on my phone, and I've already listened to 4 albums while searching and cleaning and going through random crap.

Tell me, WHY the F--- don't I know where this stupid little piece of paper is??? Argh!!!!!!

I'm so cranky about this. I hate being disorganized, and I was actually getting quite on top of things until two small brunette whirlwinds tore through my room the other day and upended a few boxes of stuff I had salvaged from the Saturn all over the floor... and the title was in there. And now, it is NOWHERE. :(

I want a sugar fix. I want this to all go away.

hmm, I don't think I've never tried to sabotage my own relationship before

I did something really awful, rather dishonorable, and altogether juvenile last night. Pretty much the 3rd worst thing you can do when you are dating someone you REALLY like- I looked in my boyfriend's blackberry while he was passed out drunk/sleeping.

And I saw something sort of bad in there (re: questionable fidelity).

And then I tried to wake him, firmly, but calmly to say what I had to say (which was basically accusing him of cheating).

And then, what? I took a gun out and shot my own foot off??


He was understandably upset that I had the nerve to read a text in his phone, and that we were even discussing it, but he held to the fact his actions have been spotless since we've been together. For the first time ever, we were both angry at each other. I offered to sleep in Helen's room, but he asked me not to. I was still very upset and went downstairs for a while.

Lloyd (Billy's old college roommate) and Helen were still hanging out and received me with open arms. They were very supportive; they think Billy and I have (had?) something worth working at and they both agreed that the text message I was upset about WAS in fact inappropriate, but that I should give him the benefit of the doubt on this one. I do acknowledge that texts are not the same thing as actions.

Remorse isn't a grave enough word. Not nearly. There are no words to explain how I wanted to swallow those ten stupid, awful minutes, so that they could never exist. Never see the light of day.

HOW COULD I HAVE DONE THAT??!! I'm sure I'd be irate if he'd gone snooping in my phone.

I went upstairs and crawled into bed and just said, "Billy? Can you please forgive me, I am sooo-" and he shushed my apology, said I was forgiven, and held me for a moment. We whispered small comforts and he fell back into a deep sleep, one where he didn't seem to know I was even there. I had a fitful night, incredibly INCREDIBLY embarrassed and fearful and so on, barely falling asleep before daylight crept in.

F*#K!!!

Argh, I'm annoying MYSELF so bad right now, so I figured I should come over and annoy you too.

I should be fine, I should feel f--king fine. EVERYTHING IS F--KING FINE.

There is nothing wrong, but my anxiety is through the roof today. I saw a terrible movie that gave me a stupid panic attack, and I now want to strangle the people who made that movie.

My Day


I rode my bike to work, which is exercise AND got me fresh air and sunlight. Don't I always say those things are key to good mental health? [And just who the hell do I think I am? Dr. Frasier Crane??]

Mr. Short gave me my exam from last week... 104%. Highest score in the class. Again.

After work, I went to the grocery store and the gym. I had a pretty great circuit training workout, and due to the huge mirrors everywhere, I noticed my ass looks HOT from all the cycling I've been doing. Thought about my boyfriend a bit. Think he likes my butt, too.

I oversaw the doing of homework and nightly reading. I got the kids in bed.

I get to borrow my mom's car tomorrow night, which means I am not stranded here on my kid-free night; I can actually GO OUT! Woo!

Ok, so considering my day (not too bad, except that my job is a sham)... what's wrong with my brain? Or the chemistry therein, rather. You know what I mean.

I don't know. Maybe everything IS wrong? Maybe nobody can be trusted and the world is full of scheming liars and wars and bad economies, even though there are probably enough resources for everyone?


THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME AND I THINK I WANT MEDICATION.

I'm one $500 check away from being in sleep deprivation experiment

Man oh man, Conner woke up about twenty times last night carrying on about everything from itchy pajamas to thirst to having kicked the covers off to BEING TIRED. Who WAKES UP to complain about being freakin tired?

And of course, none of the waking started before I fell asleep, only after. And I went to bed late as it was, on top of having missed lots of sleep this weekend anyways.


So, I'm at work and exausted and blogging unashamedly. Not even TRYING to conceal it. That's how tired and "don't give a damn" I'm feeling today.


On the upside, I have some glee today. We were celebrating Helen's birthday last night, so my guy came over and a couple of my friends were able to meet him. And not only was he his usual charming, polite, and attractive self, he even brought Helen the perfect gift; a book by Hunter S. Thompson that she didn't have yet.

Then, in our goodnight embrace my ankle ended up wrapped on one of his legs, and his other foot ended up twining around my leg. We chuckled to each other, and commented on how nicely we were impersonating those Indian statues of embracing deities.

It took focus to continue to hold the complicated balancing posture and achieve that pure-being state, but the meditation we shared for a minute or so like that was really nice.

we all have our own picket fences

I don't know what picket fences mean to you, but they happen to be one of my psychological phobias. As a kid, I had recurring nightmares (in black and white!) featuring picket fences, and houses that (were made out of ticky-tacky and) all looked just the same. In the dream, I was always walking along, when I realized that the sidewalk was part of a gear, and that each house was a square tooth in a cog of death. It makes my insides roil, even now that I'm 25 and I know suburbia only eats you metaphorically.




The only reason I bring this up is because I'm having a bit of a meltdown, feeling really insecure and a little anxiety ridden, and Helen pointed out to me tonight that we all have our own picket fences. I'm anxious because it seems like he MUST be about to stand me up for our plans tomorrow. She wanted me to realize that IF HE DOES (and assuming it's because of nerves), I should remember that we all have our own triggers for meltdowns.


I don't know why this is even making it to the blog; this isn't my panic attack diary, by any means, but I guess I just wanted to say that if it happens, I'm choosing to be ok with that. Maybe not right away, but that's life. Now it's in print and I have to stick to that.

oh, my aching, lonely car...

WHERE DOES this story start?

Well, I guess it sort of starts a year and a half ago, when my zany friend from our high school academic team introduced me to another zany friend of his. Whom I now adore. :D

There's not much story in the interim; I delivered pizza for a while and ran my poor Saturn into the ground with that, and lots of other driving, for the sake of socializing and running errands, etc. I also spent some of the past loving people who were really hurtful and also putting a lot of energy into all sorts of projects and flying from place to place.

Recently, my car did whimper some, and I thought, "Gee, I'll be taking her in to the mechanics in the next couple of weeks, for sure, to check this out..."

I the meanwhile, Billy and I had started talking about hanging out some time about 6 months ago, but we hadn't spent any alone time together until more recently. True to form, I've spent the better part of two weeks seriously doubting his interest in me, even though the deep stares and holding-each-other-close romance had started to pick up some steam. I mean, pretty much all 25 year old guys know how to effect that emotion, right? I figured he was just acting that way, but who knows why?

Anyways, Friday night he sent a little <3 in a text, and then called and told me he was on foot, and coming to see me, if that was ok. I laughed for a while and then realized he was seriously walking from Indian Rocks Beach TO MY HOUSE IN CLEARWATER (and in flip flops, at that).

I protested as I laughed at the absurdity of it, but he said it was a way of showing me that he wanted to see me. And I deduced that he was a little bitty bit drunk. But, I acquiesced to the notion. Then I said I'd go meet him halfway (with my car, lol, not on foot). We were both feeling giddy about curling up under the covers and whiling away the wee hours to music.

I got as far as the Walmart on Missouri (that's about 2 miles from my house, for you out of towners), when I had to coast into the parking lot, cursing myself for getting out of my pj's and trying to go on this silly drive to the beach. I tried giving it oil and antifreeze, but the problem is clearly the transmission (or a cracked block... actually, that's a good possibility at this point).

So, Bill calls me right about then, and hearing my plight, immediately turns round, walks home, hops in his car, and comes to pick me up. I started to really worry after he said he was coming to get me, because he had been drinking earlier that night, but his mind was made up and that was that. I was elated when he pulled in and I knew that nothing awful happened to him. Funny, being completely car-less didn't seem even remotely important at the time.

Thankfully, somebody has AAA, and I got a free tow this afternoon to a mechanic in Clearwater. And about a hundred hugs and kisses.

This Valentine's Day was brought to you by: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, AAA, vegetable and feta omelettes, and youthful optimism.

two things that make me wonder if the poles really are moving

Ok, so today was pretty interesting.

First day back to work since the holiday break started and I was in the new building. But no phones or computers have been hooked up yet, so no actual work can go on in there. Which is silly because ALL of the necessary paperwork and every last piece of the dept's office supplies are... IN THE NEW BUILDING.

So I unpacked boxes and moved things around somewhat.

As pretty as some parts of it are (skylights, floor to ceiling windows and stonework, great color scheme, fantastic tile work), the new building is like a comedy of errors, a glimmering, two story monstre sacre.

There are piles of construction debris throughout, electrical outlets that have no juice, doors that need repairs, and various little bits of unfinished business everywhere. How can classes start in 6 days? Really, I implore you.


Anyways, that's not even the stuff that registered on my radar as unusual:


1) Daniel (the really smart guy) stopped by and said hi while I was at work. I say this is unusual because it has never happened to me before, and was the last thing I expected to happen today. He has a nice smile, too.

And

2) I was solidly rear-ended tonight in Pinellas Park (as I brake for cyclists-even those who choose to rewrite traffic rules), but there is not a scratch on anybody.

argh... it was either blog, or make pancakes!

And I happen to have restocked our flaxseed and sunflower seed stores this weekend, so you never know: I may live on the freakin wildside and make the pancakes, yet!


Ok, so how was my weekend? How was my precious Saturday-Sunday combination??

Well, first of all, it's over. I'll be at work in the morning. Ugh. I HATE working in the mornings.

Secondly, the overall theme seems to have been "I did my best" (and that has to be good enough).

-Online trig assignment: not entirely completed, but I spent about 14 hours on it.
-I completed my last quiz for Art Hist, now all that's left is a bunch of written work...
-Critical mass ride today: I invited dozens and dozens of strangers, plus everyone I know who I thought might be interested, and some people who fall into the grey area in between. Shit, I even invited Hulk Hogan and Brooke (Hogan, duh). But still, not a big turnout. At least I had fun.
-It was my "kid-free weekend". How'd the dating go? It didn't.

And now I'm all self-conscious and obsessed with the negativity (MAKE IT STOP!! Please Help!!!). I feel like I'll even have to call in fat to work tommorrow. Damn it.

graduation checklist

GPA: check
quantity of credits: check
everything under the sun: CHECK!

but just found out... I NEED TO SCORE AN A OR B IN MY TRIG CLASS THIS SEMESTER.

Re: this semester, I have been thinking that Chem is the priority... and was kind of just planning on the whole "a C is good enough for me" thing for Trig (which is what I have been averaging). It's true, my dislike imperfection sometimes borders on neuroses, but then sometimes I just don't give (enough of) a damn. Damnit. Now I have to put in my batteries.

Ok, I guess that expression only makes sense in Spanish.