I'm a big show off

I decided to play instead of work this evening, after trying to work on projects for Technologies in Heritage Preservation all day to no avail. And this is the adorable result of my night! FELT FOOD Christmas gifts for the kids!



A fried egg (shown in a mini-frying pan from Ikea's toy section), and le tour de force, a chocolate cupcake with frosting and glittery seed bead sprinkles!

oh, THAT'S my password! ;)

Has life ever been better? Or busier?



My semester ended today, and Robby and I fly out in 25 days!!!!!

There's still a ton to do between now and then, but the biggest has got to be packing up and moving everything I own IN ADDITION to packing for 10 rugged Yukon weeks. Nine of which will be spent living in a tent camp with my boyfriend, how awesome is that? :)

Also, there's that and Seattle/Vancouver on the way there, and L.A. and Denver on the way home. I am soooo excited, but sort of crazy nervous right now. I'll feel better once every paper is filed with the appropriate department, everything is worked out, every box packed and moved out, and we are standing in my empty place.

gear to purchase:

quality long underwear
either a double size air mattress or thermarests and a coupler
a large enough pack
a decent waterproof jacket
new boots, the old ones are done in!
another two pairs of wool socks

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.

every summer for the rest of my life?

I am happy to say that I picked the right major. This was sort of the test, you know?

If you can hack it in the sun and rain, with dirt in your ears, ants in your lunch, and bug spray in your bra... If you can deal with the metric system, with nit picky paperwork about the "official" color of soil at certain levels, with bosses who Humph! and Argh! at your team, and with co-workers who never stop wishing aloud they were somewhere (anywhere!!) else...

...then maybe this has a chance of working out.

Because not only can I hack it, I can do it without fail. I can do it without complaint, with my mind keenly tuned to what is being asked of me, while creatively helping to solve problems left and right.


Yesterday's work involved some graphing and I am proud of myself for not losing it with this one girl who is a non stop complainer. She was lackadaisically chopping at the wall of the unit with her trowel and her work looked terrible. (That's when I got to get in there and clean up her section, woohoo!) We were getting ready for photo clean, which is when it's cleared out, sprayed with water, and labelled for photos. Then everyone get's back to the less pretty excavation. But she was just being a PITA and I could not believe she is seriously hoping to pursue a career in this and complaining all the way. WHY do it if you don't love it?? There are a thousand other careers that are more lucrative fo' sho'. BAs in archaeology make $12/hour, MAs make about 35K per year. We are not here for the money, people.


That chick also said she doesn't "do the metric system" and when we were graphing elevations I (the newbie) had to explain in VERY basic terms that the height of the total machine must be subtracted from the reading and that it's based on the NAVD (North American Vertical Datum, 1988), and then the number John's shouting out to us from across the woods matches with the coordinate points I'm reading to her from the unit... And she's been out here every day for weeks and weeks. I JUST GOT HERE. I mean, really.


Oh but I am LOVING every minute. The heat is nothing to me, I just feel so lucky to be here. Imagining how filthy we'd be at the Yukon field school (living in tents for 8 weeks). At least here I can come back to the apartment equipped with wifi, house cats, and hot running water...


As far as my home-situation, and the loneliness:-\ I guess maybe it's getting better?

John was really pleasant and happy to see me on Sunday night. Monday at work we were fine, then he got drunk Mon night and was just mean. Tuesday my feelings were still smarting, so I was distant w/ him while working side by side, and Tuesday night he had to go to work (Starbucks, I don't blame him for feeling crabby) and didn't say more than 3 words to me between then and Wed morning. But the weird thing is that in the field he's cracking jokes NON stop and making voices all day long. And then at home, sullen.

Anyways, Wednesday night we actually hung out and watched a Scottish sitcom for a few hours and played Scrabble and laughed and argued.


Funny, though, his perpetual gloom cloud really puts other people in perspective. Everybody seems cheery by comparison!

Still missing my kiddos and my friends and my house with my bed and my pillows and the plumerias and the crazy squirrels outside and the familiarity. I def know which way my compass' arrow points for home, and I relish longing for home again and again.

trying to head this off at the pass

I really want to be more zen, and instead I am stressing and lame.

Maybe it's post-wedding blues? Maybe it's from drinking a lot?

I cried at the ceremony when (the insanely gorgeous) Simon Tetelbaum started things off with the kindest words ever spoken. I cried when Mr. Gus spoke up and said that he and and his wife "give this woman away".




I shed a tear when John and Laurie danced their first dance, and then later on, I cried when I accidentally texted Tom my ex, when I had intended to text Helen. That was actually really really not good. I was fairly drunk by then, being who knows how many glasses in to John's rad punch and a few glasses of champagne and white wine as well. But it was mostly happy crying.

This is the level of merriment we are talking about: There was blood on the dancefloor at one point (before anyone had dropped a champagne glass), and we were just like "everyone ok?? alright, party on!".

By 3 am there were tuxedo shirts and dresses strewn here and there all over the deck. Folks hit the hot tub, pool, and The Gulf of Mexico armed with nothing but full bottles and gallon size zip-lock baggies of leftover gourmet hors d'oeuvres.

Laurie (bride), James Wight (friend from the groom's side), and I closed the party out around 5 am on Sunday morning. We were talking art and philosophy until we finally fell asleep in the living room (minus Laurie, lol) of this incredible beach house... however I was awoken twice between then and 8 am.

The second time it actually involved me. I just had to go move my car a few feet so someone could get out. That should be really simple (right??), and grabbed my keys, and dashed out barefooted, and still in my sexy floor length black dress.

NOTE: I left the gate of the beach house ajar so that I could get back in and go back to sleep as soon as I was done. Sleep deprived, yes. Stupid, no.

And then, while I was in my car, someone else came out and slammed the gate shut. Seriously. I thought about climbing over the (sharp metal) gate, except I was in the gown and had no underwear on (long story,but not what you think). So I had to go on a long walk to find a condo building that had a beach access gate unlocked. At 8 am. In a black floorlength gown.

Back to the couch. I wanted to sleep but then it was just a lost cause.

We found one person in a house of 20 occupants who had 4 Advil (worth their weight in GOLD) and went out for a stylish post wedding breakfast. All the while, I had on my bravest face, but inside I was slowly melting down.

Now, a whole day out (is that all?? geez) and I am marginally better.

I have to go pack, though. I'm leaving, on a jet plane, for another damn wedding.

Scripps National Spelling Bee

We're still watching it, in bits and pieces. There are all these interruptions like having to sleep and eat, geez. ;)


Anyways, I'm eagerly anticipating being able to watch the last couple of hours of the Bee, however I don't know when that will be. I'm going to go pick up Conn in Pinellas Park now, then zip back over here to get ready for a BBQ at the Bohler household.

Tonight, we're celebrating the eve of the ever-elegant-Laurie's wedding. Then back home with my kids to put them to bed. Tomorrow, I'm babysitting Avery and taking my kids to a little birthday party and then back home to get ready for the beach wedding.

My dress is an absolute masterpiece while still being casual enough to get more use out of it... but I still need to do my nails and so on. I'd like to squeeze in more time at the gym, too, but there are only so many hours in the day! :(

my pigeon, my little lamb

Cora, with her painting that was chosen for an art show, May 2009.






Conner turns four, May 2009.

the one where I discuss (complain about?) dating and sex and objectification and everything personal

Woohoo! It seems that I'm wholly OUT of break up/rebound territory. Not bothered much by the ole BC any more these days. Except yesterday, when I drove past a black Jeep Cherokee and I think the driver and I made eye contact. And the driver had a square shaped head, nice lips, and black nerdy glasses. I almost threw up, but thank goodness I had to shift into 3rd and didn't have time to get all dramatic.


Anyways.
Helen and I recently noticed that single-ness becomes me. I am happy and healthy. I seem to think that I like relationships better, but when I'm actually WITH someone, I turn into a wreck; self denial, weeping when I fear it's OVER, manic happy episodes when things are good. With someone, I tend to drink too much, miss too much work, and ignore my other friends. It's awful, really.


But dating is a miserable pain in the ass. Let me tell you. I've not really jumped back into that pool yet, just texting with a few people, wetting my feet, so to speak. And you know, I wouldn't even bother, except that I really do want to believe in the whole "falling in love" thing. And if you want a dating relationship to go well, I've learned you must take it a little slower than you'd like and postpone sex until you've defined the relationship. Both of those things are NOT things I'd prefer to do (I'm terribly impulsive), that's just what I've discovered through all my, uh, research.

And I declared late last Dec, after B and I broke it off for good, that I was done done DONE with casual sex (because of the health risk, not because of the psychological implications). And then I was in a monogamous relationship again (which made me miserable) for a while, and now single and wishing I'd not said I was done with casual sex, because if I'm also not getting into a relationship, that's pretty much the same thing as saying I'm done with sex altogether. See? This is a moebius strip conundrum all the way! Argh.

Now, I want to add that my anthropologist friend (who I "have some history with") is in town, petitioning for a bit of my time, and casual is the agenda. It's not very well hidden. Actually, it's completely blatant. There never was much pretense with him. And the kinds of things he says in text are so crazy and outrageous, part of me wants to slap him. But he can back it up, let me tell you. And my brain likes the banter, anyways.

But wait, didn't I say I was DONE with all of that?

So my questions are:

are men who pursue women for sex instead of relationships OBJECTIFYING them?

is objectification actually wrong if it's consensual?

is it any more forgivable if the man is wonderful, brilliant, and considerate?

is it any better considering that I've always happily enough walked away from the affairs in the past?

what if it turns out I can't fall in love without it being a disaster, anyways?




If I can't have what you have... a hand to hold, a compadre, a partner in crime, a yang to my yin... can't I at least have the hot (knocking over lamps and chairs and tall piles of books) sex?

guilt and confoundedness

My weekend was kept spectacularly festive, busy, and spry (more on that tomorrow) thanks to the diligent efforts of those who love and support me, but I'm still processing the, er, break up.

So. I heard from someone that Billy said I had acted "psycho" when I went to his house (to break up with him). Really? I mean, we were exclusive for a couple of months and I needed to know we were both on the same page about the break up. I tried to contact him by phone, and I'm sorry but I am above texting a break up message.


Still haven't heard anything from him like "thanks for my cds", or "yeah, we should break up" or anything (why do I expect to?). I deleted his number from my phone, but not all of the messages lurking within.

And he's still on my facebook page. That one is kind of upsetting me. He just made his facebook page, right before the good weekend we had, which was immediately before he disappeared. He hasn't deleted me as a friend, and I haven't done it either.

And do you know why I haven't? Because I really don't want to NEVER talk to him again. But he wants to never speak to me, apparently, because I'm awful for wanting closure. So why hasn't he deleted me as a friend?

This breaks my f-ing heart. I know he's got major problems (too many to list), and I'm pretty sure I'm better off this way, but I still think he's unlike anybody else. To which Helen pointed out: EVERYONE'S unique.

I'm listening to Engine Driver, by the Decemberists and the chorus, which was taken as a contractual agreement between us one afternoon reminds me that there is no other way. ...and if you don't love me, let me go. Unfortunately, this is where the title's guilt comes in; I love him (and his faults) and I let go anyways. Because I had to assume that what he wanted, and I ran out of the saintliness needed to continue in patience.

And I'm still at the stage where I'm going over it all, again and again. I have a hundred questions that will never be asked and never have answers. There's nothing to do but walk away.

And maybe get one of these?

Regardless of what I SHOULD be doing right now, I'm reflecting on the big stuff today.

Here's why:

My days have been thematically arranged lately. This could give me the impression that there is something "running the show" and trying to make me notice things.

For example, the other day everything was IN MY SPACE. I'm not kidding, in every way possible, this was the overall theme of the day. I mean, a bug flew into my nose. A tree ant was caught in my dress while I was at work. And Paul WOULD NOT STOP hounding me to go out (alone) with him, even though I've said we could hang out "just as friends".

Yesterday's theme was certainly "mini-emergencies" around the house and in our world.
Nothing extreme, but I did have to put on my thinking cap and go problem solving, which is a wonderful thing to do.



The other thing I was thinking about is love, and if it is always this awful painful experience. On days like today, I feel really inexperienced (in spite of two engagements, one marriage, and a few betrayals). I have no clue what things should feel like.

I look back and remember lots of pain with all the love, but part of me wants to think that if there is any negative component it's "a bad idea". I want to ban pain in conjunction with love.

And needs, I want to ban needing. Part of me is aching because there are things I need to say and I don't know how. It's true, intimacy is a gradual process, and better not rushed, so I've held off from anything too... attached? Which leaves me wondering if I've made an error.

kinderblog, wunderkind

My kid has a blog now.



It will most likely be her little animal stories, but I anticipate watching her put her more personal thoughts in print, too.

She's excited about the chance to share photos too, but I'm going to be here, hovering, wielding the mom-baton of final say.

pretty sure Fiona Apple understands stuff like this

You know, Craig Ferguson once told her during an interview that she's a "very complicated woman", but that he likes that, lol. And I think that is how I feel right now; complicated.


Remember how I said that I believe in the magic spark between two people, even though there are risks? Well, I'm here to up the ante.

Without wanting to say too much about this, I happen to actually know that Billy cares for me in quite a serious way. He has shown this to me, by saying that any flaw I may have is nothing to him if he can be with me. And sadly, I am flawed.


Tonight I had to ask Mike if anything awful had happened to Billy that would explain why he left me hanging on a Saturday night when he initiated making plans with me just yesterday. Mike's answer is that this is just who he is. That's Bill. That's who he is. He does this to "everyone", according to Mike. He simply flakes out and no one can get a hold of him from time to time regardless of their plans with him. It's part and parcel with his genius side, with his silly side, with his compassionate side, with his irreverent side, with his generous, caring side.

And somehow, as sad as it is to think this could be something I'd get used to, I'm finding myself thinking that I CAN meet him halfway on this. I'm upset at the behavior, but I miraculously still love him (and I am not an easily forgiving person!). This is his flaw and I want to do as he did with me and embrace him fully, in spite of it.