Not for me, obviously. But I have my marching orders to get a plane ticket to see FoilMormor and the Second Mate within the next few weeks.
Meanwhile, I had NiQ with me this weekend, and that went fairly well. She's a sullen teenager and all that , but it was a good visit. I saw Reprise with NiQ. I felt like the little boy watching the naked emperor showing off his new clothes. This movie got great reviews. It was dreadful. Stilted. Overly self-conscious. Boring. Incredibly long. I'll have to re-read the reviews and see if I missed some basic key to the whole thing. The real problem: there was no joy in this movie. It's all about artists trying to be creative and they're all young men and have some idea that women aren't creative and/or limit men's creativity. Except they all change their tunes in order to get laid. And the idea of a 23-year old group of guys producing literary works of much significance (The movie had some clips from talk shows where the character's literary works were being taken very seriously. I can only hope that was an in joke of sorts.) seems pretty ludicrous, especially the young men in question.
There was some interesting treatment of mental illness (it wasn't cute and fluffy and easily overcome by love). But it was painful to watch.
Off to find a cheap ticket.
June 30, 2008
June 27, 2008
Bad Housekeeping (And Car Care) Is Its Own Reward
My car has been needing a bath for a while. I ignored this. So much, that before heading on vacation with PdeFF, DestructGirl pointed it out to me, saying: "Bird poopoo. Car! You clean it." Nice to see the bossy apple hasn't fallen far from the tree.
Needless to say, the stubborn, non-Good-Housekeeping apple that is me ignored DestructoGirl's ukase. She's not the boss of me (at least not now that she's a thousand miles away for the next nine days)! Also, I'm just plain lazy when it comes to car cleaning.*
But my car needs new front struts, and, I'm told, tires. So I called Uber's mechanic for a quote (on the struts -- if anyone has a good tire place recommendation, do let me know). He gave me a quote that was $100 lower than I had previously been told, but more than I want to spend right now. He also told me that for my car, the struts aren't a safety issue. "Save up your money and come in in a few months. With your mileage, it won't make any difference." Nice.
Next, I've not been driving the NuclearGrammyMobile because of the high cost of gas. Except on weekends. So I carefully parked it in a non-bird-poop accumulating spot in the parking lot. We had a torrential downpour today. My car is now 87% clean. Only a few spots of bird poop left. One more global-warming-caused storm and my car will be 100% clean. I feel vindicated, and DestructoGirl will be pleased when she returns (she'll think I obeyed her). Life is good.
*I figure with a 12 year old car (think a medium-sized-to-large-none-too-glamourous-GM-or-Ford sedan) with 31,000 miles, but no style whatsoever really isn't going to benefit much from detailing.
Needless to say, the stubborn, non-Good-Housekeeping apple that is me ignored DestructoGirl's ukase. She's not the boss of me (at least not now that she's a thousand miles away for the next nine days)! Also, I'm just plain lazy when it comes to car cleaning.*
But my car needs new front struts, and, I'm told, tires. So I called Uber's mechanic for a quote (on the struts -- if anyone has a good tire place recommendation, do let me know). He gave me a quote that was $100 lower than I had previously been told, but more than I want to spend right now. He also told me that for my car, the struts aren't a safety issue. "Save up your money and come in in a few months. With your mileage, it won't make any difference." Nice.
Next, I've not been driving the NuclearGrammyMobile because of the high cost of gas. Except on weekends. So I carefully parked it in a non-bird-poop accumulating spot in the parking lot. We had a torrential downpour today. My car is now 87% clean. Only a few spots of bird poop left. One more global-warming-caused storm and my car will be 100% clean. I feel vindicated, and DestructoGirl will be pleased when she returns (she'll think I obeyed her). Life is good.
*I figure with a 12 year old car (think a medium-sized-to-large-none-too-glamourous-GM-or-Ford sedan) with 31,000 miles, but no style whatsoever really isn't going to benefit much from detailing.
Anon Dave Wins a Convert (And I Demonstrate the Dark, Dark Side of Peer Pressure)
I also hope that you aren't drawn into religion. It's much more rational to believe in the goodness of pineapples on pizza, to which I still hope to convert you into a believer.Said Anon Dave in the second comment to the linked post. Kira chimed in, and since I know Kira (over the Internet and through email and mail: I've never met her, but she's not anonymous to me, and I am not anonymous to her) and trust her food taste, well, I'm caving in. Pineapple is removed from the pizza-toppings-of-badness list. Please remember, however, that almost all British pizza toppings (Creamed corn? Tuna from the can? Ew.) remain on the pizza-toppings-of-badness list. Crimes against pizza are just wrong. Thank you.
Change of Plans
This is my first weekend in ten days without children. Except I won't be without children. Innana and NiQ and I are going to be doing some stuff. Innana's car died (really -- let's all say a fond farewell) so I'll be driving the two of them around tomorrow to used book stores, etc. and helping run a few errands and I may have the NiQ in my home for Saturday night due to some theatrical stuff in which Innana is involved.
At first, I thought: "But I want to be alone, for once!" But then I thought of the fun NiQ and I could have: Movie! Pool! Silver Diner! And I realize that rest is really quite overrated, especially when there's a young person with whom one can spend some time. Of course, NiQ may vote against the sleepover Saturday, in which case, I'll be spending the day with Innana and NiQ and then having my Saturday to myself, which will then involve half a bottle of wine and some serious patio sitting with a book and some good knitting.
Yup. I lead a rich full life. (That's sarcasm, except it's really not. My life does feel rich.)
At first, I thought: "But I want to be alone, for once!" But then I thought of the fun NiQ and I could have: Movie! Pool! Silver Diner! And I realize that rest is really quite overrated, especially when there's a young person with whom one can spend some time. Of course, NiQ may vote against the sleepover Saturday, in which case, I'll be spending the day with Innana and NiQ and then having my Saturday to myself, which will then involve half a bottle of wine and some serious patio sitting with a book and some good knitting.
Yup. I lead a rich full life. (That's sarcasm, except it's really not. My life does feel rich.)
June 26, 2008
Woman's (and Kid's) Search for Meaning
Yes, I am attending religious services nowadays. Not very religious religious services. More philosophical discussion amongst people with similar ethical and intellectual interests as my own.
Why? In a word: TigerGrrl. TigerGrrl's father is Muslim. The Saintly Babysitter is Muslim. Our favorite backup babysitter is either a Seventh Day Adventist or a Jehovah's Witness (I've avoided getting the whole creed down, as I like this woman and don't want to disagree with her). TigerGrrl has been asking pointed questions about death, the Bible, Jesus, Satan, etc. I've explained my view, but want her to have some education and guidance in a humanist (not evangelical) tradition. Hence the philosophy/church/quasi-religious organization.
I'm not going to identify the actual establishment, as I intend to write about it on occasion. I will make real efforts to keep anonymity, as always. Needless to say, this isn't a "Bible-believing" fire-and-brimstone type establishment (they tend not to like me, and it's pretty mutual). We'll reassess after TigerGrrl has some experience within the organization. So far, I'm liking the people I'm meeting and finding the philosophy quite suited to me and my make up.
Why? In a word: TigerGrrl. TigerGrrl's father is Muslim. The Saintly Babysitter is Muslim. Our favorite backup babysitter is either a Seventh Day Adventist or a Jehovah's Witness (I've avoided getting the whole creed down, as I like this woman and don't want to disagree with her). TigerGrrl has been asking pointed questions about death, the Bible, Jesus, Satan, etc. I've explained my view, but want her to have some education and guidance in a humanist (not evangelical) tradition. Hence the philosophy/church/quasi-religious organization.
I'm not going to identify the actual establishment, as I intend to write about it on occasion. I will make real efforts to keep anonymity, as always. Needless to say, this isn't a "Bible-believing" fire-and-brimstone type establishment (they tend not to like me, and it's pretty mutual). We'll reassess after TigerGrrl has some experience within the organization. So far, I'm liking the people I'm meeting and finding the philosophy quite suited to me and my make up.
Solipsism Rides Again
I was up at 4:30 this morning. I am so sick of this shit. It's June, and I want to focus on the latest Supreme Court opinions (death penalty, habeas corpus, etc.). It's an election year and I should care. I don't, and I don't like that.
Probably that's why I'm going to do more Ethical Society/Unitarian stuff and writing group meetings and the like: it's time to get out, not on dates (not dating now, thank you) but in an attempt at real connection with other people.*
Which reminds me of a joke I was told: two Unitarians were talking about why they were Unitarians, and one said: "I think it's because we're skeptical." The second said: "I don't believe that."
Being naturally skeptical, it's hard for me to approach anything as a "this is it!" kind of thing: relationship, business opportunity, whatever. Yet I need to find something right now (aside from the overarching purpose of raising my daughters well) and the usual suspects (knitting, guitar playing, hiking) aren't doing it, or at least, aren't doing it enough. If I had more time, I'd volunteer with some true do-gooder type organization. But until DestructoGirl is a good two or three years older, my do-gooding is pretty much limited to giving blood and platelets. That'll have to do.
Yet even as I face several more years of relying on the help of friends and family (Kira, Innana, and DOL: thank you for keeping me and my offspring well-dressed on no budget. Uber, Innana, and FoilMormor: thanks for all the support. Big Grampa: Thanks for helping out with the babysitting situation and everything else. Big Bob: Thanks for the Grammymobile -- two and a half years later at 31,000 miles**, she's still going strong, despite needing new struts, whatever those are), I need to feel that I am doing something meaningful for others. Not just getting by.
Yes, giving blood and platelets is good, but it really doesn't seem sufficient right now. I need to be more connected. I'm someone who solves problems. I can solve this one. It will just take me a little bit.
*No, for the most part, dating doesn't involve real connections with other people. It generally seems to involve fake connections with other people. No, I'm not bitter.
**Up from the original 16,500 in Fall of 2005 when I got the ten-year old car.
Probably that's why I'm going to do more Ethical Society/Unitarian stuff and writing group meetings and the like: it's time to get out, not on dates (not dating now, thank you) but in an attempt at real connection with other people.*
Which reminds me of a joke I was told: two Unitarians were talking about why they were Unitarians, and one said: "I think it's because we're skeptical." The second said: "I don't believe that."
Being naturally skeptical, it's hard for me to approach anything as a "this is it!" kind of thing: relationship, business opportunity, whatever. Yet I need to find something right now (aside from the overarching purpose of raising my daughters well) and the usual suspects (knitting, guitar playing, hiking) aren't doing it, or at least, aren't doing it enough. If I had more time, I'd volunteer with some true do-gooder type organization. But until DestructoGirl is a good two or three years older, my do-gooding is pretty much limited to giving blood and platelets. That'll have to do.
Yet even as I face several more years of relying on the help of friends and family (Kira, Innana, and DOL: thank you for keeping me and my offspring well-dressed on no budget. Uber, Innana, and FoilMormor: thanks for all the support. Big Grampa: Thanks for helping out with the babysitting situation and everything else. Big Bob: Thanks for the Grammymobile -- two and a half years later at 31,000 miles**, she's still going strong, despite needing new struts, whatever those are), I need to feel that I am doing something meaningful for others. Not just getting by.
Yes, giving blood and platelets is good, but it really doesn't seem sufficient right now. I need to be more connected. I'm someone who solves problems. I can solve this one. It will just take me a little bit.
*No, for the most part, dating doesn't involve real connections with other people. It generally seems to involve fake connections with other people. No, I'm not bitter.
**Up from the original 16,500 in Fall of 2005 when I got the ten-year old car.
June 25, 2008
TigerGrrl in the Morning
Last night, TigerGrrl slept in my bed and insisted that I wake her when I finished by bath in the morning. I assumed that when I kissed her cheek and told her I was done, she would roll over and snuffle a bit and wake up at 7 rather than 5:55. Nope. She got up and just made me French toast. Now, she's going on vacation with her father tonight, so maybe that's it. I just hope she's not worrying about the insomnia. (I'd assumed she hadn't noticed -- my bad.)
Anyway, I have a sweet and competent daughter who can make French toast from scratch at age 8. Now, I'm going to read a bit and she'll play some computer games before her annoying (her word) little sister rises and bends the household to her will.
Anyway, I have a sweet and competent daughter who can make French toast from scratch at age 8. Now, I'm going to read a bit and she'll play some computer games before her annoying (her word) little sister rises and bends the household to her will.
June 24, 2008
Early Morning Wakefulness
I used to be jealous of Laurita Juanita for her early morning wakefulness (and hence ability to write and blog). Now that it afflicts me, I'm not so keen on the idea. Every morning, between four and five, I wake. I can tell it's too early to rise, as the birds haven't started chirping and the subway isn't running. (I can vaguely here the above-ground trains from my home, and I find it comforting, like a train whistle at night.)
However, in summer here, early morning hours are the best. The world is fresh and new. Even on a hot day, it's reasonably pleasant at 5 a.m. Now I just need to turn this time into something productive.
No good news on the Second Mate front. He's dying. Everything else is just moving along, as though nothing else had changed. That's the saddest part of it. There's this big hole being rent in the universe, and the birds sing, the sun sets, traffic snarls up the Beltway, and life goes on.
This weekend I attended church (not to be too surprised -- at a Unitarian/Ethical Society type church) and the discussion was, in part, on death. The speaker explained some discomfort with the traditional religious discussion of death: talking about the dead person as having "gone to a better place" or being "in the next room" as though the minister or other religious person talking actually knew where your loved one is after death. The speaker at this discussion made it clear: "I have no idea if we live after death. I doubt it. But if we do live after death, we won't know for sure until then."
I found this statement almost a complete match with my beliefs, and while it is a bit harsh, it's also comforting and a reasonable guide: this is your life, and do your best. You have, maybe not even all of today. You have now. When someone dies, you have your memories of then. Hopes for the future are just that: hopes, not promises or guarantees.
However, in summer here, early morning hours are the best. The world is fresh and new. Even on a hot day, it's reasonably pleasant at 5 a.m. Now I just need to turn this time into something productive.
No good news on the Second Mate front. He's dying. Everything else is just moving along, as though nothing else had changed. That's the saddest part of it. There's this big hole being rent in the universe, and the birds sing, the sun sets, traffic snarls up the Beltway, and life goes on.
This weekend I attended church (not to be too surprised -- at a Unitarian/Ethical Society type church) and the discussion was, in part, on death. The speaker explained some discomfort with the traditional religious discussion of death: talking about the dead person as having "gone to a better place" or being "in the next room" as though the minister or other religious person talking actually knew where your loved one is after death. The speaker at this discussion made it clear: "I have no idea if we live after death. I doubt it. But if we do live after death, we won't know for sure until then."
I found this statement almost a complete match with my beliefs, and while it is a bit harsh, it's also comforting and a reasonable guide: this is your life, and do your best. You have, maybe not even all of today. You have now. When someone dies, you have your memories of then. Hopes for the future are just that: hopes, not promises or guarantees.
June 21, 2008
And Real Touble
All my whinging yesterday? Fageddaboudit. Nothing like a bracing dose of mortality to kick you in the pants when you're feeling sorry for yourself.
The Second Mate was doing well on the Revlimid until they raised the dose a bit. Now, he's doing worse than ever. They took him off the Revlimid, then put him back on at the original lower dose, but no go. It's causing him discomfort and pain rather than minimizing both (like it's supposed to). Two transfusions and two doses of platelets in one week.
This is not looking good. FoilMormor is holding up well, but it's just sad.
As I wrote that, I'm sitting in my living room, looking out on a jewel of a day. I'm going to take a hike with SNV and probably see Ex-Marine Fred as well, and life seems so good. And temporary.
The Second Mate was doing well on the Revlimid until they raised the dose a bit. Now, he's doing worse than ever. They took him off the Revlimid, then put him back on at the original lower dose, but no go. It's causing him discomfort and pain rather than minimizing both (like it's supposed to). Two transfusions and two doses of platelets in one week.
This is not looking good. FoilMormor is holding up well, but it's just sad.
As I wrote that, I'm sitting in my living room, looking out on a jewel of a day. I'm going to take a hike with SNV and probably see Ex-Marine Fred as well, and life seems so good. And temporary.
June 20, 2008
Money Trouble
Okay, it's true. I'm just overwhelmed. I have no idea how I'm going to manage the needed car repair, payment for a crown (I have the temporary crown, won't get the permanent one 'til it's paid for), and TigerGrrl's upcoming braces. I'm worrying about it all the time.
I realize that I actually earn more than the average citizen, but given the expensive area where I live (good schools, 'nuff said) and the cost of child care (almost as much as housing), I've got nothing left once I've paid for utilities and food. Nothing. I have a few income supplementation schemes going on (knitting lessons, participating in focus groups at $50-$100 a pop when I can find them), but given how much groceries have gone up in price and the cost of gas (luckily, I don't drive much), I'm pretty much stumped for ways to stretch my budget further.
Finances worry me all the time. Getting a higher-paying job where I work longer hours will only mean that I have to pay more in child care (and will probably lose the arrangement I have with the Saintly Babysitter, which is nothing to sneeze at). Also, until DestructoGirl is in school full-time, the idea of a change in child care arrangements is not something I can contemplate without palpitations.
Arrgh. Okay, I've vented. Still worrying, but somehow, it feels less godawful.
I realize that I actually earn more than the average citizen, but given the expensive area where I live (good schools, 'nuff said) and the cost of child care (almost as much as housing), I've got nothing left once I've paid for utilities and food. Nothing. I have a few income supplementation schemes going on (knitting lessons, participating in focus groups at $50-$100 a pop when I can find them), but given how much groceries have gone up in price and the cost of gas (luckily, I don't drive much), I'm pretty much stumped for ways to stretch my budget further.
Finances worry me all the time. Getting a higher-paying job where I work longer hours will only mean that I have to pay more in child care (and will probably lose the arrangement I have with the Saintly Babysitter, which is nothing to sneeze at). Also, until DestructoGirl is in school full-time, the idea of a change in child care arrangements is not something I can contemplate without palpitations.
Arrgh. Okay, I've vented. Still worrying, but somehow, it feels less godawful.
June 18, 2008
Children's Literature
Finally, TigerGrrl and I have completed the Foilwoman-Reads-Aloud-the-Entire-Harry-Potter-Oeuvre-For-the-Goddamned-Second-Time marathon. Really. Anyone who doubts whether or not I am a devoted mother, just contemplate my vocal chords, remembering that I had throat surgery in April. I want points for this. Or a gold star. We started on The Golden Compass, but that has been set aside. Next, Ramona Quimby, Age 8, but TigerGrrl read that to herself in one sitting.
On Monday, TigerGrrl pulled a nice leatherbound book from Big Grampa (he sent us his collection of classics a while ago) and said "This is the book I want you to read next." The book? Huckleberry Finn. This is not a book I would have picked for an eight-year old, but TigerGrrl seems to be enjoying it, and has already gotten the whole unreliable narrator concept. Of course, the word "nigger" turns up a lot. We're only on Chapter three, but I've had to read that word a lot already. TigerGrrl didn't know what the word meant, so that took some explanation. ("It's a bad word" didn't seem sufficient.) Fortunately, TigerGrrl definitely got that the use of this word as a perjorative said more about the person saying the word than the person at whom the word was directed.
While I wouldn't have picked this book for TigerGrrl, I'm glad we're reading it together.
On Monday, TigerGrrl pulled a nice leatherbound book from Big Grampa (he sent us his collection of classics a while ago) and said "This is the book I want you to read next." The book? Huckleberry Finn. This is not a book I would have picked for an eight-year old, but TigerGrrl seems to be enjoying it, and has already gotten the whole unreliable narrator concept. Of course, the word "nigger" turns up a lot. We're only on Chapter three, but I've had to read that word a lot already. TigerGrrl didn't know what the word meant, so that took some explanation. ("It's a bad word" didn't seem sufficient.) Fortunately, TigerGrrl definitely got that the use of this word as a perjorative said more about the person saying the word than the person at whom the word was directed.
While I wouldn't have picked this book for TigerGrrl, I'm glad we're reading it together.
You Wish the World Was as Tired as You
I'm just too tired this last week or so. The FoilKids have invaded my room to sleep with me most nights they've been at my house, and for relatively small people, they can push quite hard. I end up moved around in the bed, elbowed and kneed, and rather bruised. It would be cute if I weren't absolutely knackered.
Also, I've been waking up at 4:30 or 5 a.m. which isn't my ideal. I'm taking advantage of that today, after getting off some correspondence I had meant to take care of a month or so ago, to write a bit. But I discover I'm too sleep.
Also, I've been waking up at 4:30 or 5 a.m. which isn't my ideal. I'm taking advantage of that today, after getting off some correspondence I had meant to take care of a month or so ago, to write a bit. But I discover I'm too sleep.
June 14, 2008
In the Morning, When We Rise
I've never actually learned that folk song ("Black is the color of my true love's hair, in the moring, when we rise", etc. etc.), but it's such a content song, and that matches how my day looks right now.
I woke at 6 a.m. feeling anxious, but I rose, bathed, made my cup of coffee, and now I'm sitting in the living room with the sun peeking in (I don't get direct light, which in the summer is nice) and the window open, hearing the birds chirp. I still have the same worries that wolk me, but they don't seem so godawful. I'm going to read my book -- I'm re-reading Lituma en los Andes simultaneously with Edith Grossman's translation Death in the Andes and really getting drawn in. I finished Wally Lamb's I Know This Much Is True earlier this week. I thought it would really annoy me (it was an Oprah Book Club selection), but I found it moving, even if the last chapter was just too neat and simple, fixing everything.
There's a hectic day ahead today (karate, birthday party, friend's visit) and we were all up late last night (chess club -- TigerGrrl actually doesn't play much chess there, but she plays lots of other games), but right now, I feel relaxed and rested and ready for the day.
I woke at 6 a.m. feeling anxious, but I rose, bathed, made my cup of coffee, and now I'm sitting in the living room with the sun peeking in (I don't get direct light, which in the summer is nice) and the window open, hearing the birds chirp. I still have the same worries that wolk me, but they don't seem so godawful. I'm going to read my book -- I'm re-reading Lituma en los Andes simultaneously with Edith Grossman's translation Death in the Andes and really getting drawn in. I finished Wally Lamb's I Know This Much Is True earlier this week. I thought it would really annoy me (it was an Oprah Book Club selection), but I found it moving, even if the last chapter was just too neat and simple, fixing everything.
There's a hectic day ahead today (karate, birthday party, friend's visit) and we were all up late last night (chess club -- TigerGrrl actually doesn't play much chess there, but she plays lots of other games), but right now, I feel relaxed and rested and ready for the day.
June 13, 2008
Oh, Happy Day
Wowza! The U.S. Supreme Court has decided that, at least for detainees in Guatanamo (some of whom have been there for nearly seven years, which would make them wan't to ask "Why?"), habeas corpus cannot be rescinded by statute. Why not? Well, they spend 134 pages expalining in Boumediene v. Bush. I'll explain it in one sentence, to follow. Habeas corpus cannot be rescinded by statute because it is a constitutional right, not a statutory right, which means it's only removable by constitutional amendment.
On the personal "oh, happy day" front, nothing too dramatic, just anticipating my walk to the Metro in the sunshine. Also, while they'll leave me exhausted and unblogworthy, it's my weekend with the girls, even though I'm letting PdeFF borrow the FoilKid on Sunday (Father's Day). A birthday party, chess club, swimming, followed by complete and utter collapse of me. Should be fun.
In the last few weeks, I've gotten out and about a bit (probably why I'm tired): I've seen Afghanistan: Hidden Treasures of the National Museum in Kabul, Son of Rambow, and the Swamp Romp at Wolf Trap. Even though the Swamp Romp was on a 100 degree day and we had lawn tickets, Innana, the FoilKids and I went and had a great, if slightly overheated time (we brought a beach umbrella, and very few people showed up, given the heat, so evenutually we got into the pavilion where it was cooler and DestructoGirl could do her zydeco-Cajun-boogie to her little hearts content.
Also, I found a writers group that meets on one of the evenings I'm non-custodial. Uber has resurfaced, as has Mr. Movie (both were worried about the news about PdeFF's namesake). Uber is taking me to dinner in a few weeks, Mr. Movie, I'll call today, I'm seeing SNV next weekend (sans FoilSprogs), the Professor was my companion at Son of Rambow, and that was just fun. Innana, NiQ and I will be doing some touristy stuff in Staunton, Virginia in a few weeks, and after that, Busch gardens for all girls (FoilKids and NiQ). It's shaping up to be a very good summer, even though I don't have the trip up to God's Country (New England) worked out just yet.
To recap the last view weeks: I've been dumped by an invertebrate, the U.S. Supreme Court says "Fuck you, Dubya, even enemy combatants get some constitutional rights, PdeFF is not dead (and that's a good thing), zydeco/Cajun music is a blast, whatever the temperature, Son of Rambow is poignant and deeply amusing, Afghan treasures are lovely, my summer's getting busy (and that's a good thing, too), and my friends are rallying round.
Life is good.
On the personal "oh, happy day" front, nothing too dramatic, just anticipating my walk to the Metro in the sunshine. Also, while they'll leave me exhausted and unblogworthy, it's my weekend with the girls, even though I'm letting PdeFF borrow the FoilKid on Sunday (Father's Day). A birthday party, chess club, swimming, followed by complete and utter collapse of me. Should be fun.
In the last few weeks, I've gotten out and about a bit (probably why I'm tired): I've seen Afghanistan: Hidden Treasures of the National Museum in Kabul, Son of Rambow, and the Swamp Romp at Wolf Trap. Even though the Swamp Romp was on a 100 degree day and we had lawn tickets, Innana, the FoilKids and I went and had a great, if slightly overheated time (we brought a beach umbrella, and very few people showed up, given the heat, so evenutually we got into the pavilion where it was cooler and DestructoGirl could do her zydeco-Cajun-boogie to her little hearts content.
Also, I found a writers group that meets on one of the evenings I'm non-custodial. Uber has resurfaced, as has Mr. Movie (both were worried about the news about PdeFF's namesake). Uber is taking me to dinner in a few weeks, Mr. Movie, I'll call today, I'm seeing SNV next weekend (sans FoilSprogs), the Professor was my companion at Son of Rambow, and that was just fun. Innana, NiQ and I will be doing some touristy stuff in Staunton, Virginia in a few weeks, and after that, Busch gardens for all girls (FoilKids and NiQ). It's shaping up to be a very good summer, even though I don't have the trip up to God's Country (New England) worked out just yet.
To recap the last view weeks: I've been dumped by an invertebrate, the U.S. Supreme Court says "Fuck you, Dubya, even enemy combatants get some constitutional rights, PdeFF is not dead (and that's a good thing), zydeco/Cajun music is a blast, whatever the temperature, Son of Rambow is poignant and deeply amusing, Afghan treasures are lovely, my summer's getting busy (and that's a good thing, too), and my friends are rallying round.
Life is good.
June 12, 2008
No, My Ex-Husband Is Not Dead
It's been a dramatic week. Nothing to do with Guy, who is history. Someone with PdeFF's name was murdered over the weekend, and I've been fielding calls, assuring anxious people that PdeFF is alive. It's weird. I really have no use for the man, but I'm glad he's not dead. There's something just a bit creepy about hearing about the murder of someone who's name you know even if you don't know that person.
June 7, 2008
Better Than A Batch of Brownies
Although brownies are good too. I haven't been feeling very low. Actually, aside from a few moments now and then, I've been feeling pretty good. No horrendous post-break-up blues, no crying jags, no drunk dialing. Of course, I've booked my calendar solidly. I have plans with The Professor (movie & dinner tonight), a concert with Innana and the FoilKids tomorrow (the Swamp Romp at Wolf Trap: even in the heat, it should be a blast), and plans for my next free weekend with SNV.
Even better: I've just finished watching the first season of Kath & Kim, an Aussie TV series, sent for my 47th birthday by his eminence, Benedict XVI. I find it incredibly cheering. Also cheering is that I've figured out how to watch Aussie DVDs on my laptop now that I have the sound working. Your Eminence, I'm just loving it. Thank you.
Even better: I've just finished watching the first season of Kath & Kim, an Aussie TV series, sent for my 47th birthday by his eminence, Benedict XVI. I find it incredibly cheering. Also cheering is that I've figured out how to watch Aussie DVDs on my laptop now that I have the sound working. Your Eminence, I'm just loving it. Thank you.
June 6, 2008
Things to Anticipate
Anticipate as in look forward to, not anticipate as in jump the gun. But one of the things that has been stressing me out this summer is that I have a deficit of free time. No more. I'm still busy, but I won't be cramming in evenings out with Guy on my few free nights a week. I'll be able to to other things, like play the guitar, take a walk, etc.
Even before I'd known everything was over, I'd found a writer's group meeting weekly in my suburb on one of my free nights, and thought "If I do this, then I'll be seeing Guy the other night, and there will be no quiet time for me. "
Well, I went to the first meeting (for me) and it's a group I think I'll enjoy and the criticism offered seemed pretty good. I'm not going as Foilwoman, who remains a secret identity. I'm going as me, with a goal toward working some of my writing into reasonably final format.
I have two weekends planned with Innana. [An aside: when Innana and I were first becoming friends, we took a weekend away on the Eastern Shore where many things went wrong. Instead of having a double room with two beds, we had a double room with one small double bed (we were friend, not lovers, and that seemed a bit close). We took a walk to a ferry that we thought would take us to another town. We started walking, and it turned out the other town was a good ten miles away. Other small disasters added to the joy of that weekend. However, at dinner that night we agreed that neither one of us had stressed the other one out, and even in unpleasant circumstances we felt comfortable, and I guess we knew: we travel well together, even if we now leave most of the organizational and planning aspects to Innana. I think I see the seeds of by travelling with men jinx, which I really don't believe in, but hey: I've got the gold standard of travelling companion already.] Innana and I are going to the Swamp Romp at Wolf Trap this weekend. Life is good.
I have more to put on the list, but I've got to run off to work.
Even before I'd known everything was over, I'd found a writer's group meeting weekly in my suburb on one of my free nights, and thought "If I do this, then I'll be seeing Guy the other night, and there will be no quiet time for me. "
Well, I went to the first meeting (for me) and it's a group I think I'll enjoy and the criticism offered seemed pretty good. I'm not going as Foilwoman, who remains a secret identity. I'm going as me, with a goal toward working some of my writing into reasonably final format.
I have two weekends planned with Innana. [An aside: when Innana and I were first becoming friends, we took a weekend away on the Eastern Shore where many things went wrong. Instead of having a double room with two beds, we had a double room with one small double bed (we were friend, not lovers, and that seemed a bit close). We took a walk to a ferry that we thought would take us to another town. We started walking, and it turned out the other town was a good ten miles away. Other small disasters added to the joy of that weekend. However, at dinner that night we agreed that neither one of us had stressed the other one out, and even in unpleasant circumstances we felt comfortable, and I guess we knew: we travel well together, even if we now leave most of the organizational and planning aspects to Innana. I think I see the seeds of by travelling with men jinx, which I really don't believe in, but hey: I've got the gold standard of travelling companion already.] Innana and I are going to the Swamp Romp at Wolf Trap this weekend. Life is good.
I have more to put on the list, but I've got to run off to work.
June 5, 2008
New Age Nonsense (But It Works For Me)
We are the stories we tell. So you know, I, the mighty Foilwoman have been passively-aggressively dumped by the previously-liked (by me) but now universally-acknowledged-to-be-a-toilet-plunger Guy. To make this narrative less pathetic, I shall know convert to some sort of Buddhist/Hindu/everything-balances-out-even-if-it-makes-no-sense religious conviction that life in some way has meaning.
Yup. I figured out that I was being dumped-by-default (simply not returning calls --a grand total of two -- I'm not a stalker, I think) on Wednesday, June 4. Up until then, I really liked Guy. But someone who I'm fond of (more than fond -- I love that young man) is in some pretty serious trouble and had some legal actions surrounding his life occurring on June 4. Not on a continent where I live, and not in a legal system that I know, but still. I'm hoping that my bad luck (actually, good luck, since I found out that a crumb is a crumb, but work with me here) would translate into good luck for him. So far, it looks like it has, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Since the lawyer appointed was described to a mutual friend as "a Nigerian Foilwoman", I shall assume that all is well.
[Sweetie: If you want me to delete this, just email me and tell me so.]
Yup. I figured out that I was being dumped-by-default (simply not returning calls --a grand total of two -- I'm not a stalker, I think) on Wednesday, June 4. Up until then, I really liked Guy. But someone who I'm fond of (more than fond -- I love that young man) is in some pretty serious trouble and had some legal actions surrounding his life occurring on June 4. Not on a continent where I live, and not in a legal system that I know, but still. I'm hoping that my bad luck (actually, good luck, since I found out that a crumb is a crumb, but work with me here) would translate into good luck for him. So far, it looks like it has, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Since the lawyer appointed was described to a mutual friend as "a Nigerian Foilwoman", I shall assume that all is well.
[Sweetie: If you want me to delete this, just email me and tell me so.]
Dumped
Yes, it's over. Apparently my "take-a-trip-with-a-guy-and-break-up" karma from the 1980s is still going strong. At some level, it makes sense: a trip is a lot more time with someone that just dates. They can really get to know you, and they may not like what they find out.
I'd like to think I'm entirely lovable (except for the scariness), but I know that someone reasonable could possibly object to some minor features or characteristics.
That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and that I'm not pissed off beyond belief. And of course, I've taken a major hit pride-wise. But not self-esteem-wise. Hey. most relationships end. And they end unilaterally. Pride-wise what hurts the most is that Guy, who I thought was a mensch, did the fade. He hasn't said "It's over" or anything like that. He's just stopped calling.
Given that behavior, I'm clearly better off without him.
I could drive myself crazy asking myself what I did wrong or what did I do that offended him or whatever, but I'm going to resist that urge. Unless he can tell me (and given the squirrelly behavior this week, I'll be quite sceptical of any statements he makes) what's going on, I'm not really going to know. It could be something I did, it could be him, backing away from further intimacy, it could be some external thing.
But the just not returning phone calls thing is so high school. I'm not following up. He's made up his mind even if he is unable to express it and that's that. Better to find out this sort of inability to face a potentially difficult confrontation head-on now, when there's fairly little at stake (this isn't an emergency, my feelings and pride are bruised, but really, big whoop) than when I'm well and truly committed and have more at risk. I'm hurt, but not that deeply. Surface bruising.
Fortunately, I have some fun plans already this summer.
I'd like to think I'm entirely lovable (except for the scariness), but I know that someone reasonable could possibly object to some minor features or characteristics.
That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and that I'm not pissed off beyond belief. And of course, I've taken a major hit pride-wise. But not self-esteem-wise. Hey. most relationships end. And they end unilaterally. Pride-wise what hurts the most is that Guy, who I thought was a mensch, did the fade. He hasn't said "It's over" or anything like that. He's just stopped calling.
Given that behavior, I'm clearly better off without him.
I could drive myself crazy asking myself what I did wrong or what did I do that offended him or whatever, but I'm going to resist that urge. Unless he can tell me (and given the squirrelly behavior this week, I'll be quite sceptical of any statements he makes) what's going on, I'm not really going to know. It could be something I did, it could be him, backing away from further intimacy, it could be some external thing.
But the just not returning phone calls thing is so high school. I'm not following up. He's made up his mind even if he is unable to express it and that's that. Better to find out this sort of inability to face a potentially difficult confrontation head-on now, when there's fairly little at stake (this isn't an emergency, my feelings and pride are bruised, but really, big whoop) than when I'm well and truly committed and have more at risk. I'm hurt, but not that deeply. Surface bruising.
Fortunately, I have some fun plans already this summer.
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