What a Little Moonlight Can Do

Wow. I mean, WOW.

We really needed a vacation. Now that we are home and back into our rhythm again, I can see how much more relaxed and pleasant we both are about everything in our world. It feels so good to lay those burdens down now and again, and I am working on being able to do that with more ease and grace. It just feels so damn good.

The vacation was wonderful, and we didn't do jack or shit. The island was amazing—it was the perfect time of year to be there. We swam with the pup, walked on the beach, lit fireworks, spread my dad's ashes, ate delicious seafood, drank beer, and I took a shitload of pictures, up until I dropped my very professional (read: expensive) camera into the gloomy, gray Atlantic. Oh yes. I did.

But like hells bells and sandy vaginas, it dried out after a few days and is working once more! Glory be for professional equipment!

As I'm sure you are as well, I'm back to work after the holiday, but unlike many years before I have an amazing energy and zest for the days coming up. Usually, this time of year, I am run down, exhausted, and well on my way to becoming a full-blown alcoholic (not to mention the extra weight from 'holiday grazing.' Gah.) But this year I feel differently than I have in the past. I'm eating well, working out on a semi-regular schedule, and going to bed early.

OH SHIT! I've turned into AN ADULT!!!!

Fuck. I was wondering when that was going to happen....


Vacation: Day 4

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.


Vacation Blog: Day part deux



Vacation Blogging, Because Yes, I AM That Cool

So it comes down to this: I have no time in my normal life to keep a log of the numberous aspects of my normal life. I must go on vacation to find peace, solitude, and the opportunity to write. I have been overworked, overstressed, and now, on the first eve of my long-awaited reality-break, overly sick. Well, I exaggerate. Not OVERLY sick, just plain 'ol sick.

And I'm not totally done with work: I have a book shipping on Tuesday, which basically means I'm plugged in until then. Gah. But c'est la vie, ya know? Then, THEN, I have the rest of the week to myself. Me, my man, and my dog. On a remote island. For Thanksgiving. We plan on eating lots, drinking lots, doing a whole lot of nothing, and then more of the same. We arrived today, and already I feel like the weight of the world has, if not disappeared, shifted slightly off center, ready to tumble as soon as I shrug my hopefully suntanned shoulders.

It's been a while since me and the man have had a vacation—since our honeymoon, matter of factly. Since then, a lot has happened, and frankly I'm fucking exhausted. Sometimes I just want to shake free of the contemporary world, rid myself of posessions, and scamper away into the setting sun. Is that such a bad thing? I don't want to deal with other people's shit—work shit, friend shit, family shit, life shit. Sometimes, all I want to do is deal with my own shit for once. Of course, one could argue that my caring about the surrounding shit is my own choice, and that one would technically be right. But the reality of life is that we DO have to deal with ours and everyone else's shit; it is how the world functions. It is how a responsible individual is expected to behave, and when someone doesn't deal with their shit, they are usually dumping it on someone else to deal with. Now how is that ok? Answer: it is not.

So I think, since I'm equipped with a company laptop and nothing but time to be me, I will do a bit of vacation blogging. I'm learning to deal with my shit after being really good at dealing with other peoples', so now I think I need some "ME" time.

That, and I'm going to be doing more photography; something that has eluded me for quite some time, despite moments of clicking. There is a whole wide world inside myself to discover, and I'm ready to realize the fullness of that world. I'm already a fully-alive person; I can't imagine what I will be as soon as I give myself the permission to be it.

Watch out.


Nova: Goodbye.

She was a month old when I found her at the shelter. Tiny black body, with puppy blue eyes. She was so timid at first, and when I sat on the shelter floor to calm her, she curled up in my lap. That has been her favorite place ever since. Even 11 years later, arthritic legs and back, grunting when she tries to sit, she still crawls into my lap.

She did, until today, when our family decided to let her go. It was the right thing to do—she was in pain. But damn is it heartbreaking.

I couldn't even bring myself to go to the vet, so my wonderful husband took my mom there. My mom couldn't go inside, so my very wonderful husband, with love and tenderness, escorted Nova (our loyal protector and warrior, playmate and friend), to her last breath. He sat with her there as she fell asleep, taking with her a piece of all our hearts.

Goodbye Nova.


Ice Cream Date

A little girl, anxious and distracted
waiting waiting waiting
sunny front porch, warm bricks
and a southern sun, thinking of sleep

for Christmas, mommy gave me a red dress
(maybe she made it from curtains, or her old dress,
or material from the thrift store
beautiful with ruffles, and bows, and things the girl loves)
my only dress, because it is special, she says
because I am special, she says

Don't worry, mommy, I won't get it dirty
Daddy is coming! Daddy called.
look at the sky! the clouds look pink
What does pink taste like?
maybe sprinkles

Don't worry, mommy, I'm not cold.
Daddy will be here any minute
he called me special, to take me for ice cream
ice cream!
He means it this time, mommy, I promise.
(I hope he didn't promise her this time)
He promised.
Oh! Look at the clouds now mommy.
red, like my special dress.

Maybe I will wait inside, at the window
it is starting to get dark
don't tell mommy, but I'm afraid of the dark
not like red, I love red
I can still see from the window

Ice cream is special, but I
don't eat it very much.
Mommy says desserts are for the weekend
(but Kool-aid popsicles are cheap, I hope the kids
like those, we can make them)
but not every weekend

Mommy, look at the stars!
I see a red one. And a blue one.
But not one that looks like Daddy.

Did Daddy forget again, mommy?
I love ice cream. And my red dress.
my special red dress, for special occassions

How long has it been now mommy?
I hope the ice cream store doesn't close.
It is really dark now.
I love you mommy.


Weekend Update, For Better Or Worse

What a beautiful time of year to live where I live. The drought has created some water issues here, but on the bright side, the gorgeous autumn leaves have hung on for weeks! I thought last weekend was the peak, but this weekend proved me wrong.

Anyway, had a crazy good and somewhat weird weekend. Friday I had dinner with some lovely lady-friends, and then we went to a good friend's incredible art show. Her pieces are exquisite, and in my opinion create the perfect blend between science and art. Thoughtful, technically fantastic, and so so so creative. I own two of her pieces already, the hubs and I are in negotiations (with each other) about acquiring a third.

After the art show, we went to a CD release party and heard some awesome punk/pop music. Watch for this name: Bullets and Lace. And come ask me about way back when, ok? Just file that away for future reference. Good beer, good people, good music: good times. And then, drunken pizza eating at 2am.

Saturday: what the hell did I do on Saturday? OH! I put finish on the fantastic shelves my bebe is building for a client. I can't WAIT until he starts building awesome furniture for our new house, which better happen in the near future. I should be getting, in no particular order: a dining table, a bedroom suite (bed, sidetables, and lamps--glee!), and possibly a concrete countertop island for the new kitchen. Ga-LEE! FYI: my husband is a fine woodworker. Fine in SO many ways, but in this case meaning he does everything by hand. He does gorgeous work, people, and we can deliver. (Not-so-subtle plug for my bebe.)
So, a couple hours in the studio with my bebe, and then we showered, ate dinner, and watched a movie at a friend's place, on his GIANT screen TV in his own, personal viewing room. With refreshments. Ah, life is good.

After that, things took a turn for the strange. My husband is not much of a night person, unlike me, so he opted to go home and relax while I opted to go to a bonfire play-along with some friends. I didn't realize that this would be a bonfire of a SHIT TON of people, so I was mentally prepared to walk into the dark backyard and have to fight for seating space. That, and a person that I call a friend put moves on me, in a not very attractive or respectful way, so that was awkward, to put it nicely. I mean, he grabbed me in a hug and pulled me onto his bed! What the eff?? He was totally, obliteratingly drunk, but that is never an excuse for me. The best I can hope for is that he doesn't remember doing it, so we can just pretend it didn't happen. That, and I will never let myself be in a room alone with him. Gah. That shit just stinks.
Needless to say, I fled the scene, back to my loving husband, where I reveled in his warm, sleepy arms and sweetness. It never fails to make me appreciate the man in my life when weird shit like that happens. I appreciate him on a daily basis, actually.

Ok, quick tangent and I'll get back to talking about me. Girls, tell me something: do you ever get tired of the wolf-whistles, the stares, and the general trashy things that men do to get your attention? In my town, a lot of that goes on. Even the damn homeless guys. It's weird, they ask for change, and then give you the undressing-eyes look. Creepy. So yeah, it's times like that when I appreciate my uber-thoughtful, sensitive, artistic, atypical man more than ever.

Another tangent: I think I'm more masculine that my husband. I don't mean in terms of physicality, AT ALL. He's a hairy, well-formed (VERY well-formed, I must say) man with no tendencies towards fancery. I mean, it's all I can do to get him to wear a shirt with a collar if we go out somewhere nice. I'm speaking of masculinity in terms of attitudes and interests. Por ejemplo: I love sports, and during football season, my Sundays are spent plugged in, either at a sports bar with my brother or with a beer on my couch. He would rather take a bath, drink some tea, and read. (I do that stuff too, but just not on Sundays.) Also, I am a dirty old man. He is not. Ok, well maybe it's just the sports thing, then. I'm addicted to pro football and college basketball. Gah, tangent over.

So yeah, going home to my bebe was really comforting. God, I love that man.

Sunday, I was hung over. We met my mom and brother for brunch and the best bakery in the world, had delicious quiche, coffee, and soup, and talked about holiday plans (including the Green Mill Jazz Club in Chicago=HELLS YES). AND hubs and I saw our house plans. (We're building a house.) And they ROCK. I can't believe how lucky we are right now, to be able to do this. It is only the beginning. Me and hubs have SO many plans, and it is very fulfilling to see something come to fruition.

Ok, so brunch was great, and we went to the house site, and that was awesome (I found pink granite rocks all over the place! great energy), and then we went home and I crashed for what I thought was the rest of the evening. Oh, how wrong I was! The awesome, excellent, amazing hubs come home from the studio with two free tickets to see The Regina Carter Quintet, and we had less than an hour to eat dinner, get ready, and scoot. So we did. And DAYUM, that woman can play! Jazz violin is so rare these days, and she is single-handedly bringing it back. It was an amazing show. I commented to hubs that we have good damn luck when it comes to seeing great jazz music. The show was so fantastic, and it really made me want to start performing again (I used to sing jazz, back in the day), so if you live in my general area and you play jazz and are interested in getting a gig together, let's talk.

All in all, a good weekend. And now I need a weekend to rest from my weekend. Which happens to be my song and dance, as of late.



And This is Where I Get Nice

Confoundit, Virgil! Ok, well, I did get some action yesterday at lunch, and seeing how I said that might be the "nice" option, I guess I'll play. Hate to be a stuck-up party poop, ya know? That and why waste a good opportunity to talk about myself? So, here we go.

A). Link to the person that tagged you (done!) and post the rules on your blog... (done!)

B). Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself...

C). Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs...

D). Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Ok, lemme see, lemme see. Hmm, seven wild, wonderful, weird things about moi:

1. I love it when my husband wears my clothes. There is something so sexy about that....especially the pants that are oh so tight on his nice nice ass. (Well, this is as much as you should expect for a post after a good lunch session.)
2. I was driving dirt bikes at the age of 12.
3. When I was a kid, I decided that if God really did exist, then he would make my action figure toys come to life if I prayed for it hard enough.
4. I have a never-ending hunger for anything pickled. Seriously, my mouth is watering as I type.
5. I am a dream-seer. Take it as you will.
6. Nuclear war scares the shit out of me. If I think about it too much, I feel a desperate need to find a deserted island and hunker down.
7. I've always wondered what it feels like to have a penis. Not envy, per se, but more curiosity.

Geez, that's more tiring than I thought it would be. So here's the part where I'm supposed to "tag" people, but I like the bad luck that comes with breaking a chain letter (FUCK writing that shit ten times over) so I'm going to go against the grain and end this little path here. Go elsewhere for your trail into the rabbit hole, friends. Mwah-ha-ha-ha!