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Growth, Giving Up, and more Growth

February 21, 2006

The great social experiment (which, for those who haven't been following along, is my current living situation in which I am sharing my home with another family of four) is drawing to a close. We went into the situation with the assumption that it would be temporary, so it's not like any of us are ending something that was meant to continue forever, but I do have some thoughts about time limits and limiting times. Some of these thoughts pertain to this living situation, and some do not. So, as a general disclaimer - I should say that none of this has anything to do with any shortcomings of my friends and housemates here. They have been great to share space with. They have helped me so much in so many things. They have also challenged me to grow in really important ways. I have viewed just about every single interaction with them, even the more painful ones, in a very positive way, and I am thankful for having had the opportunity to spend this time in this situation with them. I don't think it would have been nearly as successful as it has been with anyone else. I guess that's not a general disclaimer...that's a very specific disclaimer, but it's sincere.

These days, though, I wonder how much we humans limit ourselves, or put time limits on things in order to avoid adapting or growing to allow change to happen. There was a lot of talk last weekend (at the historians against the war convention) about another world being possible. And I get that. I get that our country...our world, really, has been steeped in war and imperialism from the very beginning...and that so few examples exist of cooperative/collectivist societies that it can seem impossible, idealistic, and unachievable. And broken down into sub-sub-sub-sub worlds, right down to our household units, it doesn't seem any more attainable.

Throughout these 3 co-housing months, I have frequently wanted to read a book about what others have done in similar situations to solve the problems that we have encountered...only to find myself frustrated because THERE IS NO MANUAL. Not because living with another family is so revolutionary that no one has ever done it, and perhaps I just didn't look hard enough...but also because 3 months is such a small little period on the timeline. It's really only enough time to dip our feet in collectivism. Honestly, and this is due to my own neuroses as much or more than anything else...3 months was not enough time for me to overcome the shock of sharing. In order for a true collective household to emerge, we would need more time. A lot more time. (Again, I need to disclaim that the purpose of this cohousing situation was not to form a permanent collectivist arrangement, so this is not due to any shortcomings on the part of any of us in the household.)

The funny thing, and I think I've mentioned this before, is that I'm only beginning to grow used to the living situation, and am starting to adapt in a more healthy way. I wonder how much we humans do that - give ourselves too little time to get over the hump of adaptation, and then pull away. This same thing happened when my friend R came to stay for a few months last year. We had just adapted to being crammed in the same house together - we just got the kitchen dance down - when it was time for her to go. Granted, these situations are self-limited and intended to be so, but they make me think about all of the times I have stopped before I even began - how many things I have quit before I really got started.

Is it really that I just fear success? Can that be the trite explanation to this conundrum? I've often THOUGHT that. I mean, I don't necessarily think it's that I fear the hard work, although that might be true in some cases. It seems like certain situations and relationships require hard work just before they get easier...and even when they get easier the hard work might have to continue throughout the duration. Do we naturally choose situations that will enable maximum growth? And is backing away from those situations a sign of weakness...or wisdom? I'm thinking about this in terms of my current living situation as well as some relationships, potential relationships, and unsuccessful relationships I have had/am having...and perhaps will have. Perhaps it's a combination of reasons.

I find myself pulling away from people sometimes. I call it "taking a break." I can deal with the quirks that make them human and wonderful, but after awhile with some people I just need to get some distance. I guess sometimes this is because I'm avoiding my own growth...but sometimes it's just because I need a fucking break from certain frustrating characteristics.

Another World Is Possible rings in my head. I believe that in my heart, but I wonder how that world is to be achieved. We are all so bound up in our societally-imposed ideas of what it means to relate to one another that even earnest attempts at breaking free can end up isolating us further. To the point where even going out to listen to someone give a talk about revolutionary concepts can result in two of the people I care about most in the world criticizing and complaining about the other people in the room. It gets depressing, you know? I start to get sucked in sometimes, and start to think "Yeah...people really ARE irritating, self-righteous, self-aggrandizing assholes!" But where the fuck does that get me - or anyone else? Certainly not any closer to that other world. But what is the solution? How do we learn to live with one another, whether it be sharing a house, sharing a room at a bookstore, sharing a conference, or sharing the fucking planet? My instinct...and probably yours...is that we start small. It's easy to say "change comes from within" - but what does that really mean? For me, it means learning to better accept what I view as shortcomings in other people. I think I'm on the right track when I :

a) search everyone I know or meet randomly or even just see and find something lovable about them. And focus on that lovable quality above all else. People will always find ways to disappoint me...but I can try even harder to find things about them that I deeply love.

b) notice the qualities in the people I care about that maybe aren't so lovable, and learn to appreciate those qualities for what they are - a part of what makes my loved ones who they are - rather than wishing they would change. Wow. Is this ever a challenge. But since I am not capable of forcing people to change, it's really the only way to fully love the people in my life. Unconditionally.

Sounds easy, right? Ha!

ETA:
You know, another important thing for me to remember is that I am not perfect, and I forgive myself and those around me for perceived imperfections. If I do occasionally make fun of people or situations, or generalize, or allow myself to respond to my fear of failure or shortcomings with regard to certain people, events, or environments...I can't give up on myself entirely! Nor can I give up on those I love when they display the same kind of behavior. Sometimes I need to just hang back, detach a bit, search for those qualities that I love within those around me, and move forward again with the knowledge that we all have blind spots as well as beauty. And immerse myself again.

ETA, again:
You know, another thought I'm having is that I frequently encounter a sort of "negativist peer pressure" that comes from people who are close to one another. Where someone finds something negative to complain about, and everyone sort of riffs on that. I admit, I engage in this and even instigate it at times (actually, fairly frequently)...and it's not that people should never ever do this, because it can be damn fun...but I worry about the habit of finding fault in everything. It's really fucking habit-forming. I've had entire relationships with people that have devolved into streams of sarcastic behavior to the point where honest emotion is never expressed or communicated. Again, Smart-assholitude can be the greatest thing on earth, but we need to strike a balance. I think Bill Hicks does that...he's a good person to study. Just when you start to think "Holy fuck! This man is the most depressing, negative naysayer on the planet!" He starts talking about how we are all one and one with the universe - and somehow that makes it ok. So, I mean, I think I need to examine how this dynamic is at play in my relationships...and I need to remember to bust out with the "I love you becauses" as much or more than I bust out with the silly farting around. And not only in my relationships, but in the world at large, and all of the little scenarios I find myself in within that world.

Posted at 9:29 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Laundromat Revolution!

February 20, 2006

If I were to attempt to instigate a revolution, I would begin at the laundromat. In fact, I wish I had more time today to hang out and talk to the men who were there, talking about hard times and how "Those people in the government need to be told, once and for all, that there's no incentive to work! Making money only forces you to owe more money, and they get it all in the end!" Wow! If that's not the seed of revolution, I don't know what is. And it's all happening at the laundromat.

In fact, when I think about it, what better place? Generally speaking, laundromats are utilized by people who are not property holders and who have limited means. You have to sit there and wait for your clothes, so there is plenty of time to gab and shoot the shit and you are also sort of trapped there to listen to the opposing viewpoints of your neighbors. In such close quarters, civility is a necessity. I think, when my kids are a bit older and more able to do without me here for an hour or so at a time, I might just start hanging out at the laundromat - at least on wet, cloudy days like today where the clothesline is not an option. Maybe I'll just start hanging out there without even doing any laundry. Reading a book and waiting for an opportunity to engage in interesting conversation with my neighbors.

Posted at 8:50 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Thoughts on the weekend...history, social issues, and my mental/emotional state.

February 19, 2006

I spent the weekend at the Historians Against the War convention at UT, which was kicked of ceremoniously with a brilliant keynote one-two of Andrea Smith and Howard Zinn. I thought both of them gave compelling presentations, and I jotted down copious notes in spite of having to deal with really cramped quarters. At some point, I will share my notes from that keynote and from the rest of the event, but I think I really just want to write about my experience of the event in general.

First of all, DAMN, people are impatient. Including myself. The first person who approached the mic for Q&A rambled on a bit about the lovely performance activism she is doing, and within a minute, the audience was telling her to get to the point, in a not very nice way. I felt myself feeling the same way - and it happened multiple times throughout the weekend. By the 3rd or 4th time I really began to grow uncomfortable with the whole method of mob silencing that was happening & I was pleased when some with louder voices would counteract the "Shut up and ask a question" crowd. I wondered, too, why I wasn't the person counteracting, considering I was one person feeling uncomfortable with it. So, one lesson learned at the history conference was that I need to find my voice and use it.

The panels and the speakers throughout the event were informative, intelligent, and remarkable. I did kind of wish there was a way to include dissenting voices among the crowd to get a richer discussion, but in my heart of hearts I knew a) that wasn't really the point of the conference and b) it is rare for that kind of dialog to take place in a non-threatening way - particularly when there are elements of the crowd who find it necessary to silence even the voices of agreement.

At lunchtime, I situated myself in the far corner of the room to avoid all human contact. I guess I'm in that kind of mood lately. I dunno. I sat eating and pretending to write in my journal, but really I was observing everyone. Mr. Zinn was sitting two tables away, facing me...so I laughed to myself about the fact that I was practically eating lunch with one of the greatest historians of our time. I thought about maybe going back to school to study history. And then two nice boys joined me and we talked briefly about last night's speech and education and whatnot. It was a nice, pleasant conversation & allowed me to feel good about the fact that I didn't avoid human contact altogether, in spite of my best efforts to the contrary. Ha!

I was exhausted when I arrived home Saturday night, but I went out to dinner with J anyway. We went to Swad and it was pleasant, but there was dis/ease. I get the feeling it is painful for him to hang out with me, and that painfulness is maybe exacerbated by the fact that it's NOT painful for me. Or maybe he's just in pain in general. I don't know/can't claim that it has anything to do with me at all, but the dosa and chole bhatura and sev potato puri was fabulous, and it was nice to see J as he has been ill for a bit. He even helped me to fix a computer problem I have been having. I couldn't find the R. Kelly videos I told him I was going to make him watch with me, which was kind of a bummer, and he left early in the evening...which was probably good because I was so tired & sort of overwhelmed with being around people.

I was invited to a party, which had been making me nervous all week. The person who invited me is someone who I really enjoy hanging around, and actually would love to go to a party with at some point, because he always makes me feel at ease...but I just have not been feeling the whole "large crowd" thing lately & I was balking. So there was this dynamic of me feeling torn that I wasn't going to get to see my friend, but fairly certain that I would have a crappy time going to a party that was making me feel extra-super wishy washy about giving a definitive answer. I did SAY no to the party several times, but I'm fortunate that my friend is pretty sensitive about how I'm feeling, so even though he heard no, I think he sensed my feelings of hesitation and kept asking (because normally he accepts my boundaries pretty readily, actually, which is why he's so very very dear to me) - but the thing is that in addition to the original party, he was now going to be attending a fucking FRAT party, and all of the reasons for me not wanting to go were suddenly increased 5 million fold & not only that...suddenly the very idea was making me feel upset and agitated. I told my friend I was just going to go to bed, but when I laid down to sleep, I started feeling really upset about the whole party/meat market atmosphere.

I dunno...it started to really get to me that what I look like - and what others look like to me - dictates to such a great extent whether or not we ever really get to know them on a deeper level, whether we are even talking about a relationship level or not. Plus, it made me feel all shaky and weepy to think that going to a party is an exercise in dressing myself up to be judged and evaluated and deemed worthy/unworthy by random strangers in a room. blah! I'm not quite sure what actually precipitated all of this. I can't really say it has anything to do with hanging around in a room full of history nerds all day. And it's not even that I don't feel like I "measure up" or whatever...it's just the very act of feeling like other people are measuring me...in mass quantities...that started to ook me out a bit. Maybe, too, you know...I'm 36 years old! I guess to a certain extent I feel like my friend is inviting his mom out to a party with him, which seems kind of silly.

At any rate, I was able to express these feeling abruptly to my friend and get them out enough to where I was able to actually fall asleep, but it's still bothering me today that I felt so weird about it. Part of me feels totally justified in feeling that way, and part of me is like "Whatever, lady - it's just another background for whatever you experience...why get all bent out of shape." And I wonder if I would have refused to go last month or if I will refuse to go next month or the month after that. I spent much of the day today trying to figure out when I have last been to a party - like a house party of someone I don't know - and I just can't remember. And then I started trying to remember when I have ever actually met anyone worth knowing at a party, and I can't remember that, either...so I don't feel so bad. But, then, I do recall having been to some parties with friends and just enjoying the experience...so maybe that's the key. But, I guess going to a party with a male friend who is scouting for a relationship is probably what was making me feel like it wouldn't be such a good idea.

I dunno. I've already spent way more energy on this than it probably deserves, but I'm just sort of interested in why being asked to a party evoked such a strong, reactive emotional response in me. So I'll probably think about it more, but if anyone out there has any thoughts about that, I'd love to hear them.

Today I woke up late, but managed to only miss the one speaker in the whole event who made me feel impatient and irritated. There were only about 5 people on the 3-hour panel this morning, so there was lots of time for discussion in the end, and I really enjoyed hearing from all of the regular people in the room. One woman mentioned that the closest she has ever been to going to university was attending university conferences & I wanted to stand up and applaud her as she mentioned that it might be good for the panelists to consider that there are lots of people who don't have degress who could benefit from what they are saying. Then the ever-present Carl Webb made the important point that we need to bring this stuff off-campus and share information and solidarity with those who don't ever set foot on campus. I requested more resources for younger children, which is something I'm probably going to write about later, as so much of the historical research and documentation is geared towards high school and up - and even in our very good library, there are still tons and tons of books that teach the kind of history that I have to go back later and say "Oh, by the way, everything in this book is either wrong or told from a perspective that invalidates what really happened."

And now I am home. And it is fucking cold out there. And I have a million bajillion things to do, but I just want to curl up in a little ball under all of my covers and think through all of the events of the week - both educational and emotional - and breathe, and listen to music, and think, and allow myself to feel all of it, and work through all of it, and come out on the other side with some ideas about how to deal with it all.

But first I need to make myself a fucking sandwich, because I am HUNGRY!!!!!!!!

Posted at 12:53 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

The origins of things.

October 4, 2005

I relearned a valuable lesson today. There was a tearful moment at the breakfast table which resulted in several conversations and culminated in storytelling and discussion & during this entire process I was reminded of something that I stupidly forget over and over and over again & that is that it doesn't matter "who started it."

Because, really, the origins of things tend to run fairly deep, and when you unwind the twisted tangle of blame you ultimately end up where you started...which is usually inside of yourself.

Go figure.

Posted at 12:59 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

An Open Letter

March 9, 2004

To whom it may concern,

My time belongs to me, and how I spend my time is no one's concern but those to whom I have pledged my time. I owe you no truth about what I intend to do, or my whereabouts at any given time. It's not your business. If I am due to be at work at a specific time, or if I have the night off from work, or if I am working elsewhere for the night is none of your business. And all of your blustering about what a liar I am does not change this fact. I am not a liar, I simply do not owe you the truth. My time belongs to me.

If you wish to refrain from fulfilling your obligation for fear that I might actually go out and have fun while you are doing so, be my guest. I don't need you as much as you seem to think I do, although the other people involved certainly do. I will not interfere with your fulfillment of your obligation to them, but you need to stop mistaking that as an obligation to me. It is not. That's your crucial misunderstanding in this issue. I expect nothing of you save what you owe to them.

Sincerely,

Drucilla B. Blood

Posted at 9:04 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

A Lovely Saturday in my life

June 22, 2002

7:30 AM
cy hits me over the head with a random toy that shares the bed with us. Is it morning already?

8:00 AM
cy eats a "cookie" (actually a graham cracker) while I try to figure out what to make of our empty fridge. The boys are eating so much lately. There is no fruit in the house...no potatoes...no raisin bran...no peanut butter...no leftovers. m is going to flip out when he wakes up.

8:30 AM
m is flipping out because there is enough to eat.

8:45 AM
A momentary lapse in sanity causes me to consider (out loud) the possibility of going to Taco Cabana. This gets m to calm down...but then I remember that the last time we were there they put BACON in our potato tacos. I remind m of this and cools on the idea of going...which is ok by me. I convince him that a can of garbanzos will suffice and promise that I will run by the grocery store on my way home from work.

9:00 AM
The children play while I get ready for work

9:30 AM
I leave for work. I have to be there early today for a curriculum meeting. My uberboss is already there, waiting in her car, when I arrive (she doesn't have keys). Have I mentioned how...tolerable...she has been since the 360 degree evals? I suppose that speaks a lot in her favor, in spite of the fact that she tried to weasel out of being held accountable by her boss. We talk while we're waiting for my co-worker to show up.

10:00 AM
Meet meet meet. Talk talk talk. Yadda yadda yadda.

2:00 PM
The meeting is over...the network is down...I make sure my management assistant knows what to do and go home. Stopping by the store on my way.

3:00 PM
I'm home. I walk in to find L laying on the couch watching PBS with c sleeping on his chest. When I'm done melting into a puddle on the floor, I gently grab the baby and carry him to the bedroom for his nap.

3:15 PM
m emerges from his room, and we talk for a bit...read for a bit...and start making our pizza. I tell him it's going to be punk rock pizza, and he declares that he hates punk rock...I turn on THE STRIKE anyway...and notice he is visibly enjoying the music. "Do you like this music, m?" I ask. "Yes!" says m. "It's punk rock, dude..." I say. "Oh, then I HATE IT!" says m. Thinking quick, I recover "awww...actually, this is ska." "Oh, OK..." says m, "That's a funny name for a type of music. I gather ingredients with his help. He runs outside for a sprig of rosemary and 4 leaves of basil.

4:00 PM
There's something about chopping vegetables while listening to someone sing "She's kicking ass for the working class." I'm not sure what it is, but some young upstart who claims to not like punk rock is not going to stand in the way of my enjoyment of it, damnit! I make the sauce for the pizza, and m helps me pour the ingredients for the crust into the bread machine

4:30 PM
cy is awake, and I'm rolling the dough into a cookie sheet. c sees me doing this, runs to the hallway where the playdoh is stored high on a shelf, points up to it and says "DOUGH! DOUGH!" I pull the play-doh down...happy to oblige! By the way, cy seems to like The Strike, as well.

4:45 PM
c brings me a round pat of play-doh and says "Cake! Cake!" and, as I start to pretend to eat it he says "Bwow! bwow!" So, apparently, he has made a birthday cake for me and I'm to blow out the candles. Pretty cool, considering there has only been one birthday party that c has attended in the last 6 months. It's kind of neat that he's starting to use his imagination now. This is a new thing. It is very very cool

5:30 PM
m is asking me to read Little Women to him. I oblige...but there is a very caustic odor emanating from the oven. I open the oven door and am rewarded with puffs of plasticine smelling smoke. Yick. I think c threw a piece of plastic in the over or something at some point and it's melted to the bottom rim. I take the pizza out and cool the oven down so I can safely remove the offending item.

6:00 PM
More play-doh play ensues. c keeps putting it in his mouth, and I keep putting it up as soon as he does so. then he runs to the hallway and screams that he wants "pay-oh? pay-oh?" So I keep giving him another chance. By now the floor is covered with chunks of play-doh anyway...and the playdoh is probably not nearly as toxic as the melted plastic air that we're breathing.

6:30 PM
I decide to relocate the playtime outside. We throw balls around, and check out the garden. Zucchini are growing, watermelon is vining. My garden resembles a small jungle...the tomato plants are growing all over the place and the fruit is heavy on the branches. I don't have enough cages, so it's all lush and bushy and beautiful.

7:00 PM
Pizza is done. Yum! It's very very tasty. We all chow down. L wakes up.

7:30 PM
m is taking forever to eat. I'm playing playdoh with c again...

8:00 PM
L whisks cy up so I can install House Party on the computer. m plays with his fire truck.

8:15 PM
c finds m's stuffed frog and exclaims "Fuck! Fuck!" (which is c-ease for Frog) L and I look at each other and laugh.

8:30 PM
I read some more Little Women to m...finish installing House Party, play more play-doh with c...and then play with pattern blocks with c. He hands me a triangle and says "ty-ankle?" and then he hands me the diamond and says "taco? taco?" and then he hands me the hexagon and says "chip? chip?"

9:30 PM
The living room is trashed, and it's time for c to go to bed. I get m set up to play Sims while I nurse c down.

10:00 PM
m tires of sims, so I brush his teeth and send him to bed early.

And here I am, writing, cleaning, surfing, and eating some yummy tropical source chocolate and watching the day draw to a close.

Posted at 11:36 PM • Comments (0)

A Friday in my Life

June 7, 2002

7:30 AM
c's awake, playing my head like it's a drum. I'm so fucking tired and I don't know why. I think I need to start taking an iron supplement or something. Lately I've been craving eggs and cheese, so I'm sure I'm doing something wrong, nutrition-wise. I begrudgingly get out of bed after c, in his quest to empty all of the books from the bookshelf and pile them next to me on the bed, inadvertently (or, perhaps vertently) hits me over the head with the dinosaur edition of childcraft annual.

8:00 AM
Breakfast is eggs. I used to hate them. Now I crave them. Again, I'm certain that it's something I need to adjust for somehow. Eggs and toast. Yum. And some yummy homemade granola.

8:30 AM
I'm laying on the couch, watching c methodically destroy everything in his path. So far, he has thrown 2 cups of water on the floor. He's so punk rock. I give him a cup of whater, and he drinks some of it and then hurls it on the floor. This is why I never buy anything made of any breakable substance.

9:00 AM
m wakes up and we read some stories together.

9:30 AM
c and I are off to the store. I'm trying to cut our automobile shopping trips down to every 10 days. We used to go every week. The list seems small today, which is great!

10:30 AM
c has a bagel in his hands, I'm drinking a caffeine free, GLUTEN free (?) soda pop, we have 5 bags of mostly organic food for under 90 bux. Not bad. Not bad at all.

11:00 AM
The mad feasting/grocery putting away frenzy begins. I'm so lucky to have two sweet little guys to help me put everything away. They love doing it. It's so cute to see cy with a big can of beans or a big jug of soymilk. Of course, c also feels compelled to take a bite out of each and every piece of fruit in the bags, so I have to watch him carefully.

11:30 AM
c is already acting tired, so I lay down with him to nurse him to sleep. I manage to catch a few winks myself before...

12:00 noon
m comes in and says "Mom! Wake up mom! Wake up and play with me mom!" I wake up...but I'm so so tired. I don't know what my problem is. I'm starting to suspect it's caffeine addiction. I just want to crawl right back into bed and go to sleep for the rest of the day. I'm not depressed or anything, just really really tired. Gosh, I hope I'm not pregnant!

12:30 PM
I wake L up, because, fuck, it's after noon. Because I'm so nice...I throw together a cup of coffee to help him out.

1:00 PM
L says the words I love to hear: "go on...get out of here!"

1:45 PM
I think this is when I actually end up leaving. c woke up sometime between when L told me to leave and when I actually managed to get to the door, so I had to spend some time calming him down and rubbing his back. Now I'm on my way to the bus stop.

2:15 PM
I round the corner before the bus stop just as the bus rounds the corner, so I have to run again to catch it. The nice bus driver stops prior to the bus stop so I don't have to run as far...

2:30 PM
This is where I get off to get to the offices of my job so I can drop of time sheets. Between the bus stop and the office building lies a gigantic mall. I decide to walk through the mall to enjoy some tasty air conditioning instead of the nasty hot muggy air.

2:45 PM
Um, here's where I'm sitting down enjoying some tasty pizza and a tasty dr. pepper. OK, so it's not a good food day. I got hungry. What do you want, man?! Nothing to see here...move along...

3:15 PM
After a brief jaunt in the hot hot sun, I'm back in the cool embrace of manufactured air. Riding the elevator to the fifth floor to hand in my timesheets. Feeling more than a little self conscious because, frankly, I smell bad. Well, not bad, because I actually like the way my milky sweat smells...but I'm sure not everyone feels the same way.

3:20 PM
Time sheets handed to boss. Our sysadmin is also there. We talk for a little while. L calls me three times to accuse me of hiding the manual and the drivers for my new motherboard. hahaha.

3:45 PM
Somehow I find myself in a dressing room, trying on hideous clothing that is way overpriced. I snap out of it before I actually purchase the stuff. I vow to never, EVER walk through the mall again. They really must pump something into the air in that place. It would be better to die of heat stroke.

4:00 PM
At the bus stop I see a punk rock girl with a really cool tattoo on her shoulder. It makes me want to get another tattoo. I've been toying with the idea of getting flames tattooes on my belly, to sort of frame my stretch marks, because they look like flames to me. That, or an armband. I'm not sure which.

4:15 PM
Back on the bus. It's a close squeeze in there. I'm reading and trying to disregard the fact that I'm extremely oderous.

4:30 PM
Here I am at my worksite. I'm scanning images, I'm surfing, I'm reading up...I'm answering e-mail...I'm blogging. I'll be here until L calls me crying for mercy!

6:00 PM
Amazingly, L has not called, so I decide to treat myself to dinner. I lock up and walk out of the building to find that it's been drizzling and it is actually pleasant outside. I sit at the bus stop, waiting for the bus and reading as random stray droplets of rain plink down on the magazine I'm reading.

6:30 PM
I'm at my favorite restaurant, eating tofu with garlic, hot pepper, and lemongrass...sucking down an iced coffee...reading my magazine.

7:15 PM
I opt to walk home, rather than waiting for the bus which will really only take me about 3 blocks down the road anyway. It's a pleasant walk. I like looking at peoples' gardens. There's a house that has a beautiful vegetable garden, a house with a huge patch of sunflowers, and a house with a tiny little veggie patch that seems to be producing a good number of tomatoes and three big corn stalks.

8:00 PM
At home with the kids. L has spent all day trying to get my computer working and he's had it He finally gives up and loads WIN95, since our WIN98 cd seems corrupted. I'm playing with the kids, carrying the octopusvelcro baby around...hanging out. I feel recharged, but I'm bummed bummed bummed that I still don't have a computer.

8:30 PM
Playing outside with the kids. With the ball. c climbs into the wagon and says "beep beep" and looks at me all cute, waiting to be toured around. but he's naked and it's so close to his bedtime and I'm not feeling like walking around anymore, so we go inside and read some stories instead.

9:00 PM
Nursing cy down to sleep. He is all twitchy at first, but he calms down really fast.

9:15 PM
m wants to make me a present because I'm "the best mommy in the whole world" - he demands construction paper and the little punch out thingies that make cute cut out shapes in the paper (sort of like hole punches, but in the shape of a star, a heart, and a spiral.) He wants to do the star first, because I'm a superstar...then the heart, because he loves me so much.

9:30 PM
I think about now is when I called Tesla. His number was on a post-it on the computer, and I asked L if he had called. "yeah...I think he had heart surgery or something." Fuck! So I call him up, and we talk and talk and talk forever. m is very unhappy with this (and I don't actually blame him, since I was infringing on his story and game time, but come on man! One of my favorite people in the whole world is recovering from major surgery here!) So I'm dodging m's aggression and trying to keep him relatively calm while I'm talking to Tes. Wow. It was nice to talk to him, but it sucked that it had to happen under such fucked up circumstances. It's also weird, because I was just thinking about him - since he was a major character in the story of my life around 1988.

midnight
I'm finally off the phone, and I manage to read a book to m before we call it a night and climb into bed. m must have forgiven me because he tells me he loves me. I tell him I love him too.

Posted at 5:35 PM • Comments (3)

A Wednesday in My Life

May 30, 2002

I was going to do this yesterday, but it was way too pitiful...(not that today was anything spectacular, but at least we didn't spend all day arguing)

8:30 AM
Both kids wake up at the same time as me. We loll for a bit in bed, enjoying the breezes. This is really early for m to wake up, and really late for c and me to wake up, so I decide that we should do something fun.

8:45 AM
The kids are dressed, and so am I. m has on his pads and helmet, and we grab his skateboard and head for the tennis courts. Today is the day m is going to learn to use his skateboard!

9:00 AM
It's been difficult going on the way to the tennis courts. m is already ready to give up because the "wheels don't roll good" on his skateboard. He's having a difficult time getting any momentum going. Can I let you in on a little secret? m's not exactly the most athletic kid you will meet. I'm trying to help him do more regular kid stuff like ride his bike and play soccer and tag and stuff, but it takes him awhile to catch on. It's cool with me, though. His extreme cautiousness has made him a really easy kid to take care of, and now that we have mr. evil knieval himself (c) around to stir things up, it's nice to not have to chase after two daredevils. Anyway, I decide that I'm not really qualified to actually TEACH him how to skateboard (since I've actually never skated myself, and I'm not about to try to figure it out while I'm wearing the baby in the backpack) but I figure I can at least help him with his balance. So I encourage him to keep trying to stand on the deck, and I push and/or pull him around the tennis courts. I think the longest he manages to roll without jumping or falling off is about 15 seconds, but he ends up having a great time doing this, and I'm sure we will do it again. I do want to find someone to show him the proper way to skate, though...

10:00 AM
We're home now. c's eating peanuts and raisins. m says he's not hungry. I'm eating some raisin bran. The dog is standing next to c, waiting for him to drop something or hand something to her to eat. I scoot her out of the house and give her some dog food, which she completely spurns.

10:30 AM
I'm in the midst of doing dishes and laundry. c and m are playing happily together. It's nice, but m keeps doing nasty things to c. I'll turn my back, and c will start crying, and m will immediately say "I didn't do it." This happens frequently lately. I've been having to send m to his room a lot lately. He can't even blame it on not getting any attention, because he's been getting a whole ton of attention lately. So, I'm not sure what it's all about. I send him to his room, but I try not to make it a punishment. It's really a place for m to cool down and concentrate on something else. One thing I've realized, especially with the TV being dead, is that m uses us as his playthings. When he's bored, he will start jumping on me or L or c as a means of entertainment. It does no good to try to distract him or get him to stop, because he gets so out of control that he's unable to stop. But if I put him in his room gently, without making it sound like a punishment, he will start to play with his toys in there and he will not be bored anymore, so the bad behavior stops. Usually he won't even come out when I ask him to. I just have to try to help him keep his room picked up...because what happens is he ends up pulling down all of his thousands of toys at once and then he doesn't want to go in his room anymore.

10:45 AM
I start melting some soap to make some laundry detergent.

11:00
We read Hooray For Diffendoofer Day by Dr. Seuss. Play-doh is pulled down. m plays for a little while. c grabs a handful of dough and walks around alternating between huffing it and eating it. He literally had a huge hunk of play-doh held up to his nose, and he was SNORTING it. argh. Meanwhile, m was mixing all of the colors together to create that purplish brown color that is so appealling. I try, I really do, I try to get the kids to play with modeling beeswax instead of play-doh. They will have nothing to do with it.

11:30
The floor has been swept, and m pulls all of the blankets and pillows on to the floor to make a little nest for him and c to pretend to take a nap. I sneak into the kitchen to start to make lunch while they do this.

noon
Lunch is ready. I've made a sort of pasta concoction. I initially had wanted to just have fucilli with pasta sauce, but the sauce was moldy, so I just tossed the pasta in with a can of diced tomatoes, a half can of garbanzos, some basil, garlic, and salt. It's really yummy and the kids eat it up.

12:30
I read a couple more books to m, and then retreat to the bedroom to give c Me-me's and naptime. We read a story from the Golden book of bedtime stories, m leaves the room, and c and I nurse and drift off to sleep.

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, HERE IS WHERE i TAKE AN UNPRECEDENTED TWO AND A HALF HOUR NAP!!!!!!!!!

3:00 pm
You would think I would wake up refreshed, but no. I wake up to find that I'm on the rag. And I'm fucking grouchy. And crampy. And here's L trying to justify his assholic behavior of last night.

Look. Here's the deal. Without going into the sordid details of my relationship with L...I have to say that it's ultimately one of the most frustrating thing that someone who knows me as well as he does sometimes has absolutely no clue about who I am as a core individual. And it's at the very moment that he knows the least that he insists he knows the most. And every fucking time he gets called on some bullshit or other that he does, he feels like he has to fucking assassinate my character. It sucks. It's infrequent, but it sucks. It sucks mostly because it used to be very very frequent and it's now under control. But to come to me the next day with a false cheery attitude, saying "hey...what's up?" like there couldn't possibly be anything the matter is just fucked up. Especially when I'm on the rag and not wanting to deal with anyone's bullshit.

So, whatever, here is where L and I argue for a bit about last night's argument. Not a fun way to spend the afternoon, but...whatever.

3:30
I check my e-mail and find that the picnic has been relocated to the house of the bossy boss because there's like a .0000004% chance of rain. I'm pretty ticked about this because there is just NO WAY I want to hang out in the house of someone who doesn't have children with mr. thousand hands himself. I consider calling her and whining about it, but I think better of it.

4:00 PM
More stories are read. Snacks are served. I run out to the store to pick up some stuff for the picnic.

4:30 PM
I'm reading a little to myself, c is throwing a ball around. m is alternating between acting like a really sweet kid and doing shit like SITTING ON the baby. What the fuck is up with that?

5:00 PM
I declare to L that I am NOT bringing c with me to the picnic if he's not coming with. It's just too stressful. He agrees to watch him.

5:30 PM
m and I leave for the picnic. We get to bossy boss's house to discover that the picnic has been re-re-located to it's original outdoor location. Grumble grumble bitch moan whine.

6:00 PM
We're at the park, m's playing on the playscape, I'm eating the Kung Pao tofu that bossy boss bought for me to eat in lieu of the barbecue. There's really nothing for m to eat except for fruit and chips, but that's probably my fault, so I don't bitch about it. m doesn't seem to care, anyway. He's content with his watermelon and with playing with random children who venture on to the playground.

I enjoy some conversations with some of the people who are there. I actually end up having a way better time than I thought I would have.

8:30 PM
We leave for home. Or, rather, we leave for the bookstore. I have promised m that today is the day we buy his books. I asked him which bookstore he wants to go to and he asks me "which one is less expensive?" That's my boy! We go to the used book store. m chooses his two books immediately upon hitting the children's section. Then he chooses a book for c. It takes me an inexorable amount of time to choose some books for L. I'm such a forgiving person. I know this will be the death of me. He really doesn't deserve the books any more than he deserves the 100 pounds or so of barbecue that my boss has sent me home with for him.

9:30 PM
We arrive home. L delights in the meat that I have dragged home for him. m has a snack of peanuts and a tortilla. I eat the rest of my tofu. We read from his new books, and I discover that the dinosaur book that I got him is a work of "creationist science" or whatever. I can't figure out if I should ignore the God references, or if I should just read it, or if I should tell m what I think of the whole thing. I sort of choose a combination.

10:00
m goes to bed without putting up any fight at all. I log on and surf for a long time. I really should be working out, but I'm on the rag, so I don't want to. And that's my perogative. So fuck you.

hahahahhahhahaha

I'll probably make some bread before I go to bed. Or maybe I won't. What's it to you, anyway.

Posted at 12:17 AM • Comments (3)

A Monday in my life

May 20, 2002

Put Down that Plunger. It's another day in my life...

(OK, that was a total tease. There are exactly zero overflowing toilets in this entry. Of course, the day is still young as I start this. Who knows what could happen)

2:30 AM
Yes, c is once again waking up at 2:30 in the morning because his diaper is soaked and he can't deal with it. Groggily, I feel around in the dark for a dry diaper, realize that all of the "good" diapers are in the dryer, and I put a diaper with questionable velcro status on him, without a wrap...because those are also in the middle of being washed/dryed, etc.)

2:45 AM
Of course, c has fallen asleep, but my sinuses have erupted like a faucet. I drag myself out of bed, grab a handful of Puffs Plus (with aloe) and plop my ass down in front of the computer hoping to at least entertain myself while I'm miserable and sneezing. In between surfs, I'm cleaning up the kitchen, doing some laundry, and doing some writing.

4:00 AM
Oh, shit. Now I'm wide awake, and I'm still sneezing. I decide it's best that I at least try to go back to sleep.

7:30 AM
Both boys are awake. I am trying to stay asleep, but they're not falling for it this morning. I lay there for as long as I can while they bounce around and on top of me. c psyches me out a few times by pretending to snuggle up to me and get all sleepy-eyed, only to bounce back up and start acting all silly. m's telling me about his dream that he had that we were in a twister and we were all in a treehouse and it was really scary but I saved them. I think it had something to do with the "tomato tornado" in Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

8:15 AM
Fuck it. We're getting out of bed. m is LOUD. L is still trying to sleep. c starts the day on an auspicious note by refusing to drop the plunger that he starts playing with while I'm on the toilet. There's something about starting the day by trying to convince an 18 month old that a plunger is not a toy that is just. so. wrong.

8:30 AM
I'm cleaning up the kitchen and chopping up veggies for our breakfast. This morning we're eating homefry tacos, basically it's a potato diced up with onion and "Gimme Lean" and pan fried until brown on most sides. Today I added some corn to the mix, and when it's just about done, I throw some tortillas on top and cover it up to soften. Yummy. I use this stuff called Herbamare instead of salt. It still has salt in it, but the other seasonings make things really tasty.

9:00
The kids are chowing down on breakfast, and I'm trying to straigthen up a bit. I do the dishes, and then I move into the back room to fold some clothes. Unfortunately, c has other plans for me, and as I place folded clothes on the pile, he busies himself with grabbing clothes off of another pile and strewing them about the room. I'm feeling kind of grouchy and short temper (gee...I wonder why) and I'm also sneezing every 5 and a half seconds. Not just one sneeze, either...but like 20 in a row. I always get really irritable when my allergies kick in & the kids seem to pick up on that and act even more irritating, you know? So I'm trying really hard to not lose my shit with c...not doing a very good job of it...and finally I just say "fuck it!", throw the laundry back in the baskets, and open up morning circle.

10:00
Lighting the vanilla scented candle with the lavender incense, I'm asking m what story he wants to read. Of course it's Dragon Feathers, because he loves that story...but I convince him to let me to read the story of Icarus to him as well. And a poem about geese. So I guess the theme for the day is feathers. He doesn't let me teach him "the song that never ends" which is probably a good thing.

10:30
I'm cleaning up the living room. I give up in total exasperation when c stands in the middle of the pile of crap I've swept up and starts dancing around. I throw the ingredients for a loaf of bread into the bread machine (I so love the modern world I live in) c's grouchy, crying...and I'm ready to just get the hell out of the house. SO...

10:45
We head over to the playground. The 5th graders are having some sort of picnic day, so the playground is overrun with semi-unruly children (hey, they can't help it, it's the last week of school) m doesn't feel like meeting new friends, so he's clinging to me. c's clinging to me, too. I'm feeling very hemmed in and annoyed, but I'm sure it's just me and not the poor children who are having to deal with grouchy mama. The kids run around a bit, and then m spies K- - or K- spies m (for those of you who are new to my little miniseries here, K- is this awesome kid in the neighborhood who just loves m and always goes out of his way to be extra nice to m even though m is much much younger.) and m has someone to play with for a little while. One of the teacher's aides is playing ball with c, so I talk to K- a little bit. He's all excited that it's the last week of school. He asks when m gets out of school and I tell him m doesn't go to school. He sort of laughs and says "Yeah, but when does he get out of homeschool." I laugh back and say "Oh, we don't really ever get "in" - we just play all day." hahaha.

I see John (I think that's his name - he was Rachel's neighbor, and he has a daughter who is, I think, 2 or maybe almost 3) and we chat for awhile, but some kid starts bullying Maia, so he has to go to her rescue. He seems like a nice guy...I've been meeting him up at the playground a lot lately. It's nice to talk to a fellow freak every once in awhile. c thinks he's the shit because c has a thing for men. If there is a man at the playground, you can bet c will be glomming on him within minutes. It's almost embarrassing sometimes.

12:30
We head home. c is sleepy, I'm hungry, and m does not want to go.

12:45
At home, I start putting things together for a pasta salad. I turn on some tunes. I think maybe c needs to sleep, but he's not interested in sleep. At some point he starts crying, L wakes up and takes him into the other room so I can have a moment of silence while I'm throwing lunch together. I'm making pasta salad, using rotini. I put some water on to boil and steam some broccoli and cauliflour and frozen peas over the water. When the water boils, I take the veggies off and set aside while the pasta cooks. then I throw everything together with some leftover corn from this morning and some basil, oregano, vegesal, olive oil and red wine vinegar. It's tasty.

1:00
At some point, L took c's diaper off without telling me. all of a sudden the dog seems very interested in c. I realize he has, um, defecated on the floor. As I run to get a rag to clean up, the dog takes the initiative and provides clean up services for me. How...appetizing. I know. Welcome to my fucking life.

1:15
m's done with his 3rd bowl of pasta salad. The bread is about 15 minutes from being fully baked. I bring c into the lavender-y bedroom for his nap. We look at an illustrated collection of James Herriot stories. c points to the cats and says "MAO! MAO!" Then he nurses for a brief time and drifts off to sleep.

1:30
I sit down to blog a bit and rest a bit and m is still eating that pasta salad. He really likes it. I slice up some bread for us, too. mmmMMmmMM warm bread straight from the bread machine!

1:45
I have a meeting today at work, so instead of playing with m like I usually do, I'm getting ready for work. I step into the shower, and step out to discover that there are no towels in the bathroom. I dry myself off with the one dry washrag that is available to me. hahahahahah.

2:00
Cleaning up, hanging out, farting around on the internet....L checks the mail and hands me a letter from John P, who says it sounds like Clothespins for the Revolution is right up his alley and he'd love to contribute. This makes me very happy. John P is actually the first zine person I ever met in my entire life. I wrote him a letter after picking up his zine, CEHSOIKOE, in a record store in HOffman Estates, IL (where he used to live) and we've been friends ever since. I remember running off copies of some of his first King Kats for him when I worked at Kinko's in chicago. He was all enthralled with the saddle stitcher, as he had spent YEARS perfecting a method of saddle stitching his little zines by stapling through them into a piece of styrofoam and then painstakingly bending the staples inward by hand. Hahahahaha. I totally remember him freaking out at how much easier his life had become just because of a silly machine that existed for the sole purpose of performing that tedious task. That's such a John P moment, too. What a great human being. He and Kera used to come around and make me laugh and act silly while I was working away. I love John P. So much. I hope he knows that.

Anyway, where was I...

2:30
Time to go to work. I can't find my freaking glasses (again!) I decide to just go without them. L says "OK, if you see a blob in the rearview mirror with a light on top...that would be the cop pulling you over to give you a ticket for not wearing your glasses." I'm so glad I live with the only person in the world who is more of an unbearable smartass than I am.

3:00
I'm at the meeting. Tech talk ensues. blah blah blah. touchy feely. blah blah blah. You get the picture. This meeting is at least marginally informative. Last week we met for all of 5 minutes. There was nothing to talk about. I felt bad for my cohort at the other site b/c she had to drive all the way up from south austin to get there. for me, it's right on my way to work, so it's no big deal.

4:30
Here's where my cohort at the other site is telling my boss that we can just "pick up some vegetarian items at the bar-b-q joint for Lainie" for our picnic/party/celebration next week. I look at her like she has horns sprouting from her nose and say "You know, there's a difference between vegetarian food and a barbecue joint's version of vegetarian food." I feel bad being rude, but this is like the 15th time she's tried to tell someone what is OK for me to eat. I don't even mind if I buy my own freaking food, but I do have a real problem eating food from a place whose sole purpose is cooking up dead animals for the masses. People can eat whatever the fuck they want to eat, but come on! If you're going to go out of your way to feed me, at least allow me to choose where you're spending your money on me.

OK. I'm a bitch. I know it. Sue me. My boss seems to understand where I'm coming from (after all, it was all of a WEEK ago that I bluntly told them that if we were to ever have a luncheon at a barbecue place, I simply wouldn't go. Again, not because I want to control what other people eat, but I just don't want to support that kind of establishment with my presence). She says she can pick me up some stuff from Whole Foods for the picnic. I tell her baked tofu would work. Corn on the cob, even. I can make do with a pasta salad. Whatever. And if it's a problem, I'd be happy to get the food myself. I don't mind.

5:00 PM
Time to go. whoopie! I get a bag of peanuts at the grocery store to tide me over until I can eat some food at home.

5:30 PM
Here I am at work, typing this up. I should probably go and look like I'm doing something constructive, though.

6:00 PM
Clients roll in, we do some creative projector bulb shuffling to get by with 1 bulb each in 2 projectors that normally require 2 bulbs. blah blah, talky talky. It's the last week of class, so everyone's finishing up their final projects. I am making calls for the classes that are coming up next semester. We're offering an html class that my favorite cutey-pie volunteer is teaching. I'm psyched. This guy is so so sweet...it's always nice to have him teaching here. And he does it on a volunteer basis which is way cool. Yay!

I'm happy with this class, even though it's smaller than usual, because I'm able to give some advice on their resumes instead of terminally trying to brush them off like I have to do in most classes. I think I've read over everyone's resume individually, and I feel like I've really really helped a lot of the clients achieve a polished, professional looking document. I'm really impressed by the diversity in the class...and the vast amount of experience. It's so great to work here. I7: can't even describe how much I love my job.

7:00 PM
I check my e-mai to discover that Jim Munroe is giving me permission to use one of his articles for Clothespins. He doesn't have time to write anything original, but it's still cool that he is interested in taking part. I'm starting to get really psyched about Clothespins. Moreso than before. Things are starting to come together nicely. I think it's going to kick ass.

9:00 PM
It's time to go. I have to tell J- that I can't drive him home b/c I'm not wearing my glasses and I feel really nervous about driving 10 or so miles out of my way when I can't see really well. I feel bad because he has to take the bus, but I know he is safer there than in a car with blind blind me.

9:15 PM
HO-LEE fucking SHIT! L has rearranged the living room again. He's set up the computer and the stereo so I can start ripping vinyl to CD, and he's made a cute little living area out of our scrounged furniture and our nasty old rug (the first item of domesticity that we purchased together...and possibly the last). All I have to do is actually hook everything up and I'll be able to type copious amounts of verbiage without experiencing major finger crampage again. It is absolutely beautiful in here. It's obvious he spent a great deal of time and energy working on it.

9:30 PM
I try to put c to sleep (let's call this "attempt #1") He acts like he's tired, so I start singing him all sorts of lullabyes. His eyes start to narrow. m starts talking really REALLY loudly in the other room and c begins to toss and turn and BANG HIS HEAD AGAINST THE WALL in an effort to stay awake. I'm nursing him. I'm counting silently to 50 over and over again (which is my method of relaxing myself enough to calm him down) I'm switching sides. I'm stroking his temples. I'm rubbing his back. He's flipping over. He's whacking me full force with his entire arm. He's pinching my arms, my stomach, my chest. He's rolling around.

10:00
fUCK IT f.u.c.k. i.t. This child has been working my nerves from the moment he woke up this morning. I get out of bed and stalk into the living room. m immediately sits on my lap. I take a few deep breaths, ask m to find a story for me to read. c jogs in and starts playing with some toys. m hands me Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (again!) and I try to lose myself in the reading of it.

10:15 PM
I lie and say it's time for bedtime when it's actually 15 minutes before m's bedtime (and about an hour and 15 minutes PAST c's. We all pile into bed...I accidentally flop onto L, who I didn't realize was laying in the bed already. We all rearrange ourselves to fit, and I start trying to nurse c down. He's back to his old tricks. Flipping. flopping. doing anything he can to avoid falling asleep. At one point, to avoid his peenchy fingers (you know how kittens knead the mama cat when they're nursing? This is kind of what c does...only he pinches. Hard. And it fucking hurts) I roll over on my stomach. c takes this as a cue and climbs onto my back, cowboy style. And stays there. I'm trying to be angry, but I'm laughing. I'm shaking with laughter. This makes m laugh. L laughs, too. We're all laughing, frustrated and laughing. And then we're all shooshing each other and trying again.

10:30 PM
Now c has arranged himself so he's lying perpindicular to me. And he's entertaining himself by shoving his foot in my face. I make the mistake of announcing "c's sticking his feet in my face." and m starts laughing hysterically. L tries to shoosh him, but then he starts laughing. Then, of course, I start laughing. I think we laughed about this for a full 5 minutes before L finally took m out of the room to try to get him to sleep in his room.

10:45
Here's how it goes. Nurse nurse nurse. Flip flop flip. nurse nurse nurse. scoot scoot scoot. pad pad pad. bang bang bang bang bang (this is c banging on the door). pad pad pad (back to the bed). Nurse nurse nurse. Pinch pinch pinch. Whack whack whack. roll roll roll. thud thud thud (this is him banging his head against the windowframe again). I think this is where I start to frantically count to 50 over and over to keep from committing an act of violence. It is the most frustrating thing in the world to watch an obviously tired child fight sleep so bad he has to inflict pain upon himself to try to stay awake. I'm trying to count to 50 but I keep drifting off and losing my place. 1...2...3...4...5...hmmm, I wonder what we should have for breakfast...where was I? 1..2..3..Shit. I need to make a grocery list and a menu plan because we're almost out of food...5...5..6...

11:00PM
I wake up. c's asleep. I sneak out of the room. I search frantically for the plug and phone connection for the laptop. m's still awake and playing in his room. I send him to bed, telling him that he should get some sleep because he'll be seeing his unpreschool friends tomorrow. He gladly obliges (!). Finally. Me. The computer...some writing.

11:15
L walks in: "Hey! What ya doing?" "writing" "huh?" "writing" "what?" (yes, he does this on purpose to make me insane. I think he needs the company). He sits down in the rocking chair and stares at the screen of the comptuer. "Um...can you leave me alone here...I'm TRYING to write."

etc. etc. etc...

and so, thus endeth my day...for the most part.

Posted at 11:00 PM • Comments (6)

Mother's Day in My Life

May 12, 2002

Cover art by Barry McCarthy

8:00
c's feet are in my face, m's legs are draped over my stomach, I disentangle myself, roll over, and go back to sleep
8:30
c awakens and starts pulling my hair. We lay in bed for a few minutes, and then I get up and head for the kitchen
8:45
c is dressed and in the backpack and we're on our way out the door for our morning walk. Twyla, I notice, is pulling on the leash less insistently these days. Normally, I unleash her in the park across the street, but lately when I do this she barks and barks and runs in circles around me and barks. I love watching her move. She is so incredibly graceful and stealthy. But her BARK. She is so so loud. So whenever I let her loose, I have to contend with these intense feelings of guilt about potentially waking people up. I keep her on the leash today, in case there are any mamas who are trying to get some extra sleep in time this morning.
9:45 AM
Home from our walk, I lift c out of the backpack, read More More More, Said the Baby a few times, feed him a banana, turn on some music.
10:00 AM
I turn off the music to change out the cds in the "jukebox" L wanders into the living room, says "Happy Mother's day, Motherfucker" to which I reply "um, actually...YOU are the motherfucker." He turns around, hits the bedroom and goes back to sleep.
10:30 AM
m wakes up, wanders into the kitchen and says "I love you mom." The kid doesn't even know it's Mother's Day. He's so sweet!
10:45 AM
I start making pancakes for breakfast and L's brother drops by. I'm relieved because the kids just love Uncle Robert, and I'm thinking his presence will enable me to make the pancakes without tripping over random small people running through the kitchen.
10:50 AM
c gets an eyefull of Robert's coffee and starts screaming because he can't have any. SCREAMING. I run in to pick him up. A very apologetic Robert tries to hold and calm him for me, but c arches away from him shouting "MaAAAAAAAAAAAADDD!" Robert hands him to me.
11:00 AM
c is still screaming. L wakes up and I attempt to hand him off, but L's not ready to take over, so I sit down on the couch and nurse c.
11:15
Finally somewhat calm, c crawls down and starts playing. I hit the shower.
11:30
I'm out of the shower. c is screaming again. L's already feeling the burn. I hand over pancake-making duties to him so I can leave.
11:45
I'm out the door to get L a can of cigarettes (haha...American spirits has this promotion where they're selling cigarettes in a tin can. I have no idea why. But I do like telling Steve "here's your can of cigarettes" for some reason)
noon
At my work site, scanning some old zine covers for Allyson, I thumb through the masters lovingly, reminiscing - missing the days of paper publishing. It would be nice to start doing it again, but it's just so expensive. The zines are beautiful, though. A total expression of love for my world and my freedom. I wonder if the blog is as powerful? I wonder if the blog will be something I can look back on in 10 year and be in awe of. 15 years? Some of the covers are absolutely amazing. Proof. Proof that people understood what I was trying to say? Proof that people felt the same way. A city building woodcut. a large corkscrew - stark against white background. A headless cupid. Amazing. Amazing artistry. Incredible.

While I'm scanning, I'm also thinking about the possibility of doing the zine archive. Inspired by the zinemobile project & realizing how very simple it is to scan things and put them online...it seems feasible. I'd like a partner to do it with, though, because the specifics are fuzzy and it would be nice to have someone to collaborate with - to share ideas. But it doesn't seem like such an impossible task anymore.
1:15 PM
Done scanning, I start reworking my travel history for cen's zine. Adding things - subtracting things - changing things - sending.
1:30 PM
realizing I haven't eaten, I pack up, lock up, and leave
1:45 PM
Ahh, the post office. The final CD from the burn baby burn swap has arrived. I really should check out everyone else's blog! This one was from PJ at Chromewaves.
2:00
Mmmm...a slacker sub sounds good, so I head over to central marken, igoring that small voice inside of me that is trying to remind me that I always always have a bad experience there, usually having to do with the throngs and hordes of people who gravitate there, particularly on Sunday. I park my car about a mile or so away from the store and walk to the entrance, dizzy from hunger, only to discover that the cafe is closed for Mother's day. Urgh. I trudge back to the car.
2:15
I consider going to EZ's for a veggie burger and fries, notice their parking lot is completely full, and drive down to Whole Foods.
2:30
Ahhhhh...veggie potstickers, macaroni salad and Limeade...and LIKE HELL. Sitting outside Whole Foods reading and eating and enjoying
3:00
At Bookpeople, I'm told to hand over my backpack at the door. I was assuming I could sit down and read and write. Instead, I'm given a claim check that I promptly lose while walking the 20 yards or so to the magazine rack. I purchase the latest BITCH and Z...they don't have the latest Punk Planet. Flipping through Bitch, I find an article that crystallizes what I've been thinking and bumming on for 2 days on the subject of sizism in the anti-consumer movement. There's an indictment of the sexist/sizist PETA ads in there that almost causes an involuntary "FUCK YEAH!" to erupt from my inner being. I wasn't going to get this issue because I still have a back issue I haven't read, but this brief article convinces me. There was also a short piece in the back issue of Adbusters (my current bathroom reading) about the importance of rejecting the culture of professionals trying to define our illnesses. I will probably refer to that as well when I write my article on sizism for Clothespins
3:30 PM
(of course you realize that all of these times are approximate and I don't actually live life as though I'm residing inside of a clock radio, right?)
At Flightpath with a cup of coffee and my various books and journals. I'm feeling good, especially now that the loud talkers have left (I think it was an interview of someone marginally famous, but I didn't recognize her when she walked away...she had the "look" of a famous person, though...and they were filming her being interviewed. Who the fuck knows.) and I can actually hear the Bob Marley. I'm sitting at the table next to where I scrawled CHRONIC STRAP-ON BLISS on the wall in another lifetime. I wonder who I was here with that day. There's a conversation at the table behind me where a guy and a girl are talking about another girl who won't talk to the guy. It's very convoluted and I can't help eavesdropping. I'm a shameless eavesdropper. I probably should be embarrassed to admit that, but I'm not.

While I'm sipping coffee, I write this:
"The thing I'm wondering is this. It's not that I don't want to call because I don't love her or I don't want to talk to her anymore. It's just that I'm all clenched up inside about it. I'm tense when I think about it, and I don't feel like expending the energy to try to explain or defend myself anymore, risking the very real possibility that I'll only be dismissed or invalidated. I don't WANT to. Because every word spoken since the first has widened the fissure and I don't have a fucking band-aid big enough, assuming I'm the one responsible for the mending."
5:00 PM
Home. L leaves for band practice. c wakes from his nap. I'm exhausted. I want to take a nap. I've had 5 full hours to myself and I already need another vacation. But I get up, start chopping some veggies for the soup I'm making in the crockpot, do the dishes, a load of laundry, read to the kids, goof around, listen to music...nurse c...repeat. The house is a mess, but I'd rather fuck around on the internet while the kids are occupied than clean. So I do the bare minimum and hope that L won't self-destruct about being the "only one who ever cleans up around here" (does everyone have that argument? I think it's universal)
7:00 PM
It's finally cooled down enough for us to play outside. I play tag with m while c plays some nakey baseball (I've removed his diaper to let his rash-y butt air out.) I also manage to yank up some more of that damn bermuda grass that's trying to strangle my little garden. The tomatoes are doing great...the zucchini is huge. the cilantro BIT IT...and the oregano is close behind. But the basil looks beautiful. Whenever I smell it, I think about making tofu with hot pepper and basil, Thai style. Yum.
8:00 PM
We all eat some tasty bean soup...it's sort of minestrone, but sort of not. I don't know what to call it. It was good, though.
9:00
Here's where I start trying to get c to bed. It takes awhile, but I am finally successful.
10:00
Chutes and Ladders gets played here. Mass amounts of fun. With popcorn, too.
10:45
I send m to bed...there is some hesitation, but he's tired and he doesn't argue much. And here I am and here I have been...reading, surfing, nursing my hands that have been typing this on a fucking teeny little sony vaio keyboard b/c L took my computer apart and hasn't put it back together yet. Before I go to bed, I should PROBABLY do some cleaning...but I probably won't. I might curl up with my book, instead...or with L, if he comes home soon.

Not a very exciting day...but fun and exhausting nonetheless.

Posted at 11:28 PM • Comments (0)