Sunday, February 25, 2007
Clever Mammy
Mammy is a clever lady. She comes up with lots of creative solutions to tough problems. Part of the reason she is good at figuring things out, is because she is curious. This afternoon she found a key chain in the house. She didn't realized it was a "whistle to find your keys" key chain. She just wanted to make the flashlight part work, so she pulled out the little plastic tab to make the battery function. About an hour later we began to hear a beep beep beep. After the third series of beeps, I went to investigate. I realized it was the key chain, but I didn't realize it was sound activated. Until... Celine Dion started belting out a tune on the Oscars. It started beeping like crazy! It likes Beyonce too. Now, if only we had a tiny screw driver so we could open it up and take the battery out.
Shoes, growing up, and anxiety.
The other day I was cleaning out my stuff from the closet here in the mountains. I came across my combat boots. Combat boots whose origins I can only vaguely recall. I believe they were given to me by Boyfriend #1 when I was seventeen. I haven't worn them in years, and most of the years before that, they were relegated to yard work. Faced with them again, I couldn't decide what to do. Am I too mature to own, never mind wear, combat boots?
I have been having a dialog with myself for the last few weeks about whether or not it is immature to have a "look" or style. Living in SF, I end up seeing a lot of people putting a lot of effort into their personal style. Most of them end up looking affected, unoriginal...myself included. It always seems to me, that truly mature and stylish people look that way because of the way they wear their clothes, not what they wear. So, the combat boots? Moving is tough because it is a struggle between letting go of things, and accepting new things. Choosing what to keep, and what to shed. I think it is time for me to shed. The combat boots will go. Today, seven boxes of books were given their walking papers as well. I have reached a point where I can let go of some things.
I may be feeling lighter, but I also must be feeling huge amounts of anxiety. Two nights ago I dreamt that I had to hide behind a heavy, wooden door to avoid being bludgeoned. Last night I dreamt I was looking out the window at night and saw two very large bombs drop. It seemed to take forever to determine that they were, in fact, atomic bombs. By then, I realized that it was too late. None of us were safe. We hadn't been able to keep the children safe. Everything was over. Now THAT is some anxiety!
Mammy and I have a few days of hard, but rewarding, work ahead of us. Then it is down the hill for Little Miss E's birthday party, some tile shopping, and a visit to SF. Now, it is off to bed. I shall be lulled to sleep by gusts of wind, and the drip, drip, drip of rain. Unless the temperature drops a few more degrees, all of the previous snow will be long gone by morning.
I have been having a dialog with myself for the last few weeks about whether or not it is immature to have a "look" or style. Living in SF, I end up seeing a lot of people putting a lot of effort into their personal style. Most of them end up looking affected, unoriginal...myself included. It always seems to me, that truly mature and stylish people look that way because of the way they wear their clothes, not what they wear. So, the combat boots? Moving is tough because it is a struggle between letting go of things, and accepting new things. Choosing what to keep, and what to shed. I think it is time for me to shed. The combat boots will go. Today, seven boxes of books were given their walking papers as well. I have reached a point where I can let go of some things.
I may be feeling lighter, but I also must be feeling huge amounts of anxiety. Two nights ago I dreamt that I had to hide behind a heavy, wooden door to avoid being bludgeoned. Last night I dreamt I was looking out the window at night and saw two very large bombs drop. It seemed to take forever to determine that they were, in fact, atomic bombs. By then, I realized that it was too late. None of us were safe. We hadn't been able to keep the children safe. Everything was over. Now THAT is some anxiety!
Mammy and I have a few days of hard, but rewarding, work ahead of us. Then it is down the hill for Little Miss E's birthday party, some tile shopping, and a visit to SF. Now, it is off to bed. I shall be lulled to sleep by gusts of wind, and the drip, drip, drip of rain. Unless the temperature drops a few more degrees, all of the previous snow will be long gone by morning.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Shift.
I made a big oopsie this AM. I just hope the phrase, "Pride goeth before a fall." doesn't apply. I was asked if I live alone, as though it weren't something a woman could do. I was practically bragging (to a complete stranger), that I do. I'm such an idiot sometimes.
I went to town today. I needed out of the house, and a few supplies. I got new hand cream. It rocks, but smells a bit weird. It was good to get out.
When I got home I was doing mental calculations about which items will be moved and which ones will be disposed of. The plan is to get rid of the two Lazy Boy recliners. They are old, and are upholstered with horrendous fabric. I, of course, love them. They have been a part of the family since I was born. I have played in them, slept in them, watched movies in them, convalesced in them, shared stories of my family's history in them, etc. My heart wrenched a little just thinking about letting them go. I am still convinced I get so attached to objects because I feel so detached from my extended family and its history.
I went to town today. I needed out of the house, and a few supplies. I got new hand cream. It rocks, but smells a bit weird. It was good to get out.
When I got home I was doing mental calculations about which items will be moved and which ones will be disposed of. The plan is to get rid of the two Lazy Boy recliners. They are old, and are upholstered with horrendous fabric. I, of course, love them. They have been a part of the family since I was born. I have played in them, slept in them, watched movies in them, convalesced in them, shared stories of my family's history in them, etc. My heart wrenched a little just thinking about letting them go. I am still convinced I get so attached to objects because I feel so detached from my extended family and its history.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Living Alone.
Living alone, here in the mountains, is different than living alone in an apartment in SF.
In the apartment, I am only feet away from many, many people. When I am there, I am out of the apartment more than in it. I interact with others all the time.
In the mountains, I do see and speak with other humans (though mostly over the phone or computer). I am in the house more than out of it. I am more alone.
Those of you that know me, know that I am a social person. I find myself laughing out loud. I send more emails. I get VERY excited about getting DVDs in the mail! I miss the babies (which means I'm on flickr often)!
It might snow this weekend, but the weather has been beautiful...sunny and clear. The critters, the smells, the weather, and the quiet all have me thinking I should be investing here. In real estate, that is.
I have decided that I need to be eating more fruit. Why I decided this in the middle of winter when it is difficult to get fresh fruit, especially organic, is beyond me. That being said, I've been working on some bananas and a pineapple. I disliked pineapple when I was a kid, but like many other things, I'm learning to love it as an adult.
Ok.
In the apartment, I am only feet away from many, many people. When I am there, I am out of the apartment more than in it. I interact with others all the time.
In the mountains, I do see and speak with other humans (though mostly over the phone or computer). I am in the house more than out of it. I am more alone.
Those of you that know me, know that I am a social person. I find myself laughing out loud. I send more emails. I get VERY excited about getting DVDs in the mail! I miss the babies (which means I'm on flickr often)!
It might snow this weekend, but the weather has been beautiful...sunny and clear. The critters, the smells, the weather, and the quiet all have me thinking I should be investing here. In real estate, that is.
I have decided that I need to be eating more fruit. Why I decided this in the middle of winter when it is difficult to get fresh fruit, especially organic, is beyond me. That being said, I've been working on some bananas and a pineapple. I disliked pineapple when I was a kid, but like many other things, I'm learning to love it as an adult.
Ok.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Rude.
I think it was rude of me to refer to someone as a project.
I thought about him on my drive. I thought about how I meet some people, and it is though a big question mark gets branded into my chest. I want to spend time with these people in an attempt to resolve the question. I was trying to explain this phenomenon to a friend. He said, "Ah! A soft crush!" Another friend of his had described it like this:
"The Soft Crush
I think it's easier to get to know someone when you have no agenda. If you can just take the time to communicate without pretense, the momentum of that fundamental connection will guide everything else, for better or worse.
I'll be the first to admit that I have zero "game". No pick up lines, not slick double talk, no inclination toward the notion of sweeping someone off her feet or her sweeping me off mine. I don't think about her all the time and I'm quite sure she doesn't think of me. It's not like that at all. She's the one who, if she read this, would probably not even have the slightest inclination to think it's about her.
You can be mildly aware of someone without intentionally focusing on her. It's more like remnants of her persona (a picture, a smile, something she said or wrote, her sense of wit, whatever) that cling to your peripheral awareness, and you find within yourself a little curiosity. Just a little curiosity that keeps you wanting to know a little more than you did before.
It's an odd curiosity, one with absolutely no basis; no rhyme or reason. It just is. An acquaintance, not even a normal one; a distant, almost negligible acquaintance. You may not even know each other beyond the informal realm, and it might not even be very practical if you did… but that's not the point.
It's a slow smoldering curiosity, not a blazing fire of passion and lust. You can nourish this curiosity, consciously or otherwise, without being obsessed or even in pursuit… but you can't extinguish it. Not at this point, because it's not ready to be dismissed just yet; it refuses. It continues to cling to you like a wet piece of tissue that you can't really feel and don't really notice… But you do."
I'm sorry...I don't know who wrote that, or whom to credit it to. I think he got it about right.
It has been beautiful here in the mountains. You have to know, I think alot about staying here.
I thought about him on my drive. I thought about how I meet some people, and it is though a big question mark gets branded into my chest. I want to spend time with these people in an attempt to resolve the question. I was trying to explain this phenomenon to a friend. He said, "Ah! A soft crush!" Another friend of his had described it like this:
"The Soft Crush
I think it's easier to get to know someone when you have no agenda. If you can just take the time to communicate without pretense, the momentum of that fundamental connection will guide everything else, for better or worse.
I'll be the first to admit that I have zero "game". No pick up lines, not slick double talk, no inclination toward the notion of sweeping someone off her feet or her sweeping me off mine. I don't think about her all the time and I'm quite sure she doesn't think of me. It's not like that at all. She's the one who, if she read this, would probably not even have the slightest inclination to think it's about her.
You can be mildly aware of someone without intentionally focusing on her. It's more like remnants of her persona (a picture, a smile, something she said or wrote, her sense of wit, whatever) that cling to your peripheral awareness, and you find within yourself a little curiosity. Just a little curiosity that keeps you wanting to know a little more than you did before.
It's an odd curiosity, one with absolutely no basis; no rhyme or reason. It just is. An acquaintance, not even a normal one; a distant, almost negligible acquaintance. You may not even know each other beyond the informal realm, and it might not even be very practical if you did… but that's not the point.
It's a slow smoldering curiosity, not a blazing fire of passion and lust. You can nourish this curiosity, consciously or otherwise, without being obsessed or even in pursuit… but you can't extinguish it. Not at this point, because it's not ready to be dismissed just yet; it refuses. It continues to cling to you like a wet piece of tissue that you can't really feel and don't really notice… But you do."
I'm sorry...I don't know who wrote that, or whom to credit it to. I think he got it about right.
It has been beautiful here in the mountains. You have to know, I think alot about staying here.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Bits and Pieces
Last night, someone who journals, but doesn't blog, told me he doesn't blog because he isn't one of those people that feels the need to force their thoughts on others. I didn't tell him I blog. Also, because he was amusing me, I didn't argue with him.
Things I have thought about:
When I was in NYC, a fire engine drove by. The firefighters looked very young. My heart squeezed, throat closed, and my eyes got tears when I thought about why so many NYC firefighter seem so young. Although I have sworn never to involve myself with one, I am beyond thankful that they do what they do. They are heroes.
I have found New Yorkers to be VERY friendly, especially when I am friendly first. They like to be smiled at and chatted to. Urban life can wear a person down and make them very guarded. I like opening them back up. Oh, and I also realized many New Yorkers don't walk with their heads down because they are unfriendly. Walking with your head down is one way to keep your face from freezing off when the windchill is minus seven.
The more I fly, the more bumps in the air I find. It does make me nervous. I end up smelling bad...fear sweat. ICK.
I saw a pilot in DC. I thought he was striking. When we got to CA, he turned out to be my pilot.
Somehow in NYC I got beyond my Mr. Urbane thing. I just ran out of energy. It takes a lot of energy to love someone who doesn't love you back. I think we are always going to be great friends. He entertains me to no end. Just knowing him has helped me distill my thoughts on what I DO want from a mate.
I love my kids and their adults. One of the great tragedies of adulthood is being separated from your loved ones. No matter where I am, I am missing someone.
I am SO excited about upcoming visits!! So much to do, so little time.
I am off up the hill tomorrow to get cracking on the house! I am excited!
Back to last night. I was having dinner with a man I met very briefly in Utah. He has been in SF about as long as I have. I hope he would like to be my friend. He seems like someone I could go do things with. Something beyond hanging out at bars. Plus, I don't have many arty folks around me anymore. Also, and I HATE to admit this, but he screams "project" to me. Some people just need someone to Spur them onto the next level. I'm annoying, but good intentioned.
Finally, I WAS so excited that someone left me some comments! I love her!
Things I have thought about:
When I was in NYC, a fire engine drove by. The firefighters looked very young. My heart squeezed, throat closed, and my eyes got tears when I thought about why so many NYC firefighter seem so young. Although I have sworn never to involve myself with one, I am beyond thankful that they do what they do. They are heroes.
I have found New Yorkers to be VERY friendly, especially when I am friendly first. They like to be smiled at and chatted to. Urban life can wear a person down and make them very guarded. I like opening them back up. Oh, and I also realized many New Yorkers don't walk with their heads down because they are unfriendly. Walking with your head down is one way to keep your face from freezing off when the windchill is minus seven.
The more I fly, the more bumps in the air I find. It does make me nervous. I end up smelling bad...fear sweat. ICK.
I saw a pilot in DC. I thought he was striking. When we got to CA, he turned out to be my pilot.
Somehow in NYC I got beyond my Mr. Urbane thing. I just ran out of energy. It takes a lot of energy to love someone who doesn't love you back. I think we are always going to be great friends. He entertains me to no end. Just knowing him has helped me distill my thoughts on what I DO want from a mate.
I love my kids and their adults. One of the great tragedies of adulthood is being separated from your loved ones. No matter where I am, I am missing someone.
I am SO excited about upcoming visits!! So much to do, so little time.
I am off up the hill tomorrow to get cracking on the house! I am excited!
Back to last night. I was having dinner with a man I met very briefly in Utah. He has been in SF about as long as I have. I hope he would like to be my friend. He seems like someone I could go do things with. Something beyond hanging out at bars. Plus, I don't have many arty folks around me anymore. Also, and I HATE to admit this, but he screams "project" to me. Some people just need someone to Spur them onto the next level. I'm annoying, but good intentioned.
Finally, I WAS so excited that someone left me some comments! I love her!
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
It must be the weather.
NYC has been so nice. Very sunny, and also VERY cold. Not Alaska cold, but four degrees/feels like minus nine. That feels cold to me. I haven't been so bundled up in a long time.
The cold is what I am choosing to blame it on. What is "it"? My brain and its persistent short circuiting. Two nights in a row I had a dream a man was in love with me. AGAIN! No "Wizard of Oz" this time, just Clint Eastwood and one of the other usual suspects. I know my brain really wants me to be in mutual love, but I think it is just in order to have a warm body to snuggle up to. It is lovely until I wake up.
So today I went into a diner that I have been wanting to go into for years! The food didn't live up to the expectations, but the environs more than made up for it. I felt like I had walked into a movie set. Script reads: New York. The Diamond District. Kosher Deli. Cheese blintzes on the menu, and Orthodox Jewish men sitting at the counter. It was a caricature of itself. If only I could have taken pictures.
I also drove myself a bit crazy today. From the sound of things, my fantasy wanna-be honey is in town. I kept imaging bumping into him at museums or on the street. I know it is childish, but a girl can entertain herself, right?
The cold is what I am choosing to blame it on. What is "it"? My brain and its persistent short circuiting. Two nights in a row I had a dream a man was in love with me. AGAIN! No "Wizard of Oz" this time, just Clint Eastwood and one of the other usual suspects. I know my brain really wants me to be in mutual love, but I think it is just in order to have a warm body to snuggle up to. It is lovely until I wake up.
So today I went into a diner that I have been wanting to go into for years! The food didn't live up to the expectations, but the environs more than made up for it. I felt like I had walked into a movie set. Script reads: New York. The Diamond District. Kosher Deli. Cheese blintzes on the menu, and Orthodox Jewish men sitting at the counter. It was a caricature of itself. If only I could have taken pictures.
I also drove myself a bit crazy today. From the sound of things, my fantasy wanna-be honey is in town. I kept imaging bumping into him at museums or on the street. I know it is childish, but a girl can entertain herself, right?
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