Archive for June, 2006

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I’m beyond stunned

June 29, 2006
our mindless, fart lighting, chronic halitosis having, favorite playing, benefit cutting, closed minded fuckwit of a governor finally did something that I actually applaud and completely and 100% agree with.  But I’m beginning to wonder – did he have a stroke?  This decision actually makes sense.  It’s so out of character for him.  Surely a neurologist is on board
 
He signed a bill into law making it mandatory for children under the age of 8 and under 80 pounds to ride in a booster seat.
 
I have seen too many children, including some that I love, riding around without booster seats and, in many cases, without seat belts.  This is beyond unexplainable to me.  I’m a fanatic about seat belts, car seats, and booster seats.  Children in the back.  Everyone clicked in before the vehicle starts.  Honest to goodness, isn’t it a very small price to pay for the safety of children?  Why people refuse to take such simple steps to keep our children alive and safe is unimaginable to me.  Maybe now they’ll pay the price.  Better the parents than the children, eh?
 
So, happy happy day.
 
And Governor Dumbass?  Thank you.
 
 
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Oh, you’re serious!

June 27, 2006
We have no children tonight.  This means that Mama wants to go OUT.  Oh hells yes, out. I spend so much of my time looking at these same walls (granted, I love these walls,I own these walls, I am lucky to have these walls, but jeezus, gimme some different freaking walls once in awhile.)  I wanna go out.
 
B, however, wants to stay in.
 
Again.
 
So we have the phone call.  You know the one:
 
I told him that he was welcome to stay home if he wants to, but I’m going out.  That I would go with him or find someone else to go out with, but I’m going out.  I would prefer it to be him.  But I’m going out with or without him.  I’m not trying to control his time, but I’m telling him honestly what I’m going to do with mine.  Goodbye. Click.
 
Fast forward 5 minutes.
 
Hi Honey.  We can go out.  I just don’t want to be out all night and I want to come home first before we go back out.  So you do what you want to do and I’ll either meet you at home or at W’s.
 
Great, B, looking forward to it.  I have some shopping to do and I might meet a friend, but I’ll see you when we see each other.  Sounds like a great plan.
 
Silence.
 
Um, okay, baby.  Okay.  Well, I’m sure I’ll be ready to go back out after you get done shopping so, think about what you want to do tonight and we’ll do it together.
 
Crap on a cracker, why don’t guys realize earlier on that we’re gonna do what we’re gonna do?  It would save so much freaking time.  I guess, in their eyes, time is better off spent with their chin down on the floor and their eyes all bugged out while making that all so sexy "Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?????????????" sound.
 
Thank you, Elvis, for giving me ovaries and a shred of common sense.
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GORGEOUS

June 26, 2006

The high today is going to be in the low to mid 70s, slight chance of thunder showers, low tonight is 56.  GOOD GRAVY it’s just gorgeous.  I love days like this. 

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Earlier this week I commented to some of my girlfr…

June 25, 2006
Earlier this week I commented to some of my girlfriends about how wonderful my marriage is and how in love I am with my husband.  Sweet, eh? 
 
Until today. 
Today I plotted to hang him up by his testicles and beat him like a pinata.
 
It matters not why we were fighting.  Mostly, we just felt like blowing off some steam.  We’ve been together 7 years and very rarely fight anymore (those early days, gah, horrible!)  When it happens, though, it’s not fun.
 
The problem with us is that we can both fight like champions, we can both hold grudges and stay pissed and find more reasons to be irate and just draw. it. out. for. ever.  We have stamina and an overwhelming amount of self righteous indignant flair.  If we ever really wanted to, we could dissect each other and reduce each other to quivering heap of emotional shards in 10 words or less.
 
Thank Elvis on Velvet that we don’t ever want to do that.
 
Last night, B and I had a very long, very honest, very intense, very open, and very peaceful discussion about a tremendously difficult topic.  It was emotionally charged and, if we hadn’t spent so much time to improve our communication skills, it could have turned into a vicious battle of words – but it didn’t.  We both expressed ourselves and both felt heard and validated.  It was terrific, it was needed, it was hard.  And, it probably contributed to today’s Bitchfest 2006 ’cause once that stuff is out there, you cannot take it back.  You cannot un-ring the bell, and those emotions have to go somewhere.  Last night, those emotions wanted to kick in his teeth, but I didn’t do that.  Today, I just wondered what would come pouring out if I whacked him with a bat.  Probably not candy, eh?
 
After a few hours of this childishness, I felt it pass and so did he.  It was strange, almost like someone had just left the room.  I looked at him and he looked at me and for the first time all day, we smiled at each other and just started talking about business plans and getting excited about some of the new things I’m designing and creating and new methods that I’ve discovered increase my productivity and reduce the amount of 4 letter words that spew from my mouth while working.  We planned what we’re going to do on our night off this week.  We talked about dinner and what kind of trouble he and the kidlets are gonna get into on their weekly Daddy and Sons trip to the hardware store.  It was over, just as suddenly as it began.
 
We don’t want to hurt each other.  We don’t want to fight.  We just want to be happy and we both know that being happy is often times better than being right.  After all, if you want to beat the shit out of the love of your life, it’s not very "right," now is it?  So we let it go, out into the cosmos, out into the black hole of marital stress.  I hope it stays gone for a long time.
 
 
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I’m impatient

June 22, 2006

If it takes more than 2 minutes to download a song ….

 
well.  
 
You do the math.
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Gertie makes her move

June 22, 2006
So, ol’ Gert, aka Tractor, aka the 1983 Toyota Landcruiser that B totalled, finally made her move.  She’s been serving as Parts Truck for the 1985 Landcruiser that B now drives and she’s been sitting in our driveway for 3 years since the wreck.
 
Today, she made her move.  To our back yard.  Behind the GINORMOUS cedar tree.
 
Ah, Gert, Ah Tractor, you’re now part of the scenery.
 
For awhile, all we needed was a toilet filled with geraniums to make the White Trash Gazette.
 
I’m telling you –
We’re moving on up, Weezie.
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Just throwing it out there —

June 21, 2006
As much as I complain about her, my MIL is amazing.  She takes the kids at least 3 times a month and I don’t even ask.  She asks ME if she can have the boys.  I’m so blessed.
 
Jon Bon Jovi is hot.  I don’t care.  He’s fucking HOT.
 
I totally love the romanticised Southern Moms.  Yeah, it’ll screw your kids up, but it looks like so much fun.  Cheers, JP!!!
 
My husband is the best man in the entire world for me.  How did I get so lucky?  By settling for nothing less.
 
Some people never ever learn.  You can wrap that shit up in fancy paper and shiny bows, but it’s the same box of stupidity.  If you see yourself in this sentence, it’s for you.  If you don’t, it’s not about you!  End of story.
 
I love the women in my life who appreciate the men in their lives. 
 
If you don’t have health insurance, booze is an acceptable substitute for antidepressants.  Don’t believe me?  Buy me some insurance and prove me wrong.
 
Some things are just so absurd they seem to disappear from your own sense of reality.  For example, yes, I was married before B.  But I FORGET that I was married before and I FORGET that my ex-husband exists.  Thank you Elvis for never giving me and my ex  children and thus, I can forget about him.  JST, hope you’re doing well, where ever you are, as long as it’s far away from me.
 
So, my Mom’s group??  Sincerely the best group of women in the whole freaking world.  I LOVE YOU ALL.  (And I know some of you are readers of this blog now, so CHEERS!!!!  See you in the forums.  BTW, what amazing thing are we gonna do for Miss D and her new fiance E????  I’m thinking mail order strippers???)
 
I’ve learned that being on different continents is no impediment to friendship.  2 of my best girlies live on the other side of the world and I couldn’t be closer to them.  JMB and SS, loving you all ….
 
 
 
 
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ahhhhhhhhhh

June 20, 2006

I just took a nap with my kids.  Tell me that isn’t the most amazing thing to do on a Tuesday afternoon.

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Exactly what I needed

June 20, 2006
Thank you, V.  It’s perfect.
 
 A HOMAGE TO AGE AND FEMININITY
Anne LaMott

I was at a wedding Saturday with a lot of women in their 20s and 30s in sexy dresses, their youthful skin aglow.  And even though I was 30 or 40 years older, a little worse for wear, a little tired and overwhelmed by the loud music, I was smiling.  I smiled with a secret Cheshire-cat smile of pleasure and relief in being older.  I would not give you back a year of life lived.

Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life – it gave me me.  It provided the time and experience and failures and triumphs and friends who helped me step into the shape that had been waiting for me all my life.

I fit into me now – mostly.  I have an organic life finally, not the one people imagined for me or tried to get me to have or the life someone else might celebrate as a successful one – I have the life I dreamed of.  I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I could be.

There are parts I don’t love – until a few years ago, I had no idea that you could get cellulite on your stomach – but I not only get along with me most of the time now, I am militantly and maternally on my own side.

Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a better memory?  On some days.  That’s why it’s such a blessing I’m not left to my own devices. Because the truth is I have amazing friends to whom  I can turn. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets.  I’ve learned to pay attention to life, and to listen.  I’d give up all this for a flatter belly?  Are you crazy?

I still have terrible moments when I despair about my body.  But they are just moments – I used to have years when I believed I would be more beautiful if I jiggled less; if all parts of my body stopped moving when I did.  But I believe two things now that I didn’t at 30. When we get to heaven, we will discover that the appearance of our butts and skin was 127th on the list of what mattered on this earth.

And I know the truth that I am not going to live forever, and this has set me free.  Eleven years ago, when my friend Pammy was dying at the age of 37 we went shopping at Macy’s.  She was in a wheelchair, with a wig and three weeks to live. I tried on a short dress and came out to model it for Pammy.

I asked if she thought it made me look big in the thighs, and she said, so kindly, "Annie?  You just don’t have that kind of time."  I live by this story.

I am thrilled-ish for every gray hair and achy muscle, because of all the friends who didn’t make it, who died too young of AIDS and breast cancer. And much of the stuff I used to worry about has subsided -what other people think of me and how I am living my life. I give these things the big shrug. Mostly. Or at least eventually. It’s a huge relief.

I became more successful in my mid-40s, but this pales compared to the other gifts of this decade – how kind to myself I have become, what a wonderful, tender wife I am to myself, what a loving companion.  I get myself tubs of hot salty water at the end of the day in which to soak my tired feet.

I run interference for myself when I am working, like the wife of a great artist would: "No, I’m sorry, she can’t come. She’s working hard these days and needs a lot of downtime." I live by the truth that "No" is a complete sentence.

I rest as a spiritual act.

I have grown up enough to develop radical acceptance.  I insist on the right to swim in warm water at every opportunity, no matter how cold, no matter how young and gorgeous the other people on the beach are.  I don’t think that if I live to be 80 I’ll wish I’d spent more hours in the gym or kept my house a lot cleaner.  I think I’m going to wish I had swum more unashamedly, made more mistakes, spaced out more, rested.

On the day I die, I want to have had dessert.  So this informs how I live now.

I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by now – my parents, dear friends, my pets.  Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built.  If you haven’t already, you will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken; and the bad news is that you  never completely get over the loss of a beloved person.

But this is also the good news.  They live forever, in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a leg that never heals perfectly – that still hurts when the weather is cold – but you learn to dance with the limp. You dance to the absurdities of life; you dance to the minuet of old friendships. I danced alone for a couple of years, and came to believe I might not ever have a passionate romantic relationship – might end up alone!  I’d been so terrified of this my whole life.

But I’d rather never be in a couple or never get laid again than to be in a toxic relationship.  I spent a few years celibate.  It was lovely, and it was sometimes lonely.  I had surrendered; I’d run out of bullets. But I learned to be the person I wished I’d meet – at which point I found a kind, artistic, handsome man. We have been together 20 months now.  When we get out of bed, we hold our lower backs, like Walter Brennan, and we smile.

Younger women worry that their memories will begin to go.  And you know what?  They will. Menopause has not increased my focus and retention as much I as I’d been hoping. But a lot is better off missed. A lot is better not gotten around to.  I know many of the women at the wedding fear getting older, and I wish I could gather them together again and give them my word of honor that every one of my friends loves being older, loves being in her 50s, 60s, 70s.  My Aunt Gertrude is 85 and leaves us behind in the dust when we hike.

Look, my feet hurt some mornings, and my body is less forgiving when I exercise more than I’m used to.  But I love my life more, and me more.  I’m so much juicier.  And, like that old saying goes, it’s not that I think less of myself, but that I think of myself less often. And that feels like heaven to me

 

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Priorities, again

June 19, 2006
I am my own worst enemy.  I drive myself insane under some sort of life law that says I have to do it all, I have to be everything, I have to take on more and more and more to prove my self worth.
 
Wanna guess how well that is working out for me?
 
In the last 3 days, I’ve said NO to 2 really big opportunities.
 
It amazes and comforts me that all I have to do is be the best woman I can be, the best Mom I can be, and that I can define both of those roles for myself.
 
Dear Elvis, Please help me to be human.