Last night I was resting, but TigerGrrl came into my room around midnight, saying she couldn't sleep (thank heaven's it's summer vacation and I'm not worrying about school performance). I asked if sleeping next to me would help and she had climbed in next to me and grabbed me, none-too-gently (she's a strong girl, and I like that) around the waist and said, sobbing (I hadn't realized she was upset): "Mama, what happens when you die?"
I have a policy of not lying except when it's obvious that it's a white lie (Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy) or when it's another adult and he or she should know better, and especially not lying to my kids, and especially, especially about the big stuff. So I answered honestly. "I don't know, honey."
Then came the big discussion about death, the hereafter, different religious beliefs, and my complete lack thereof ("that doesn't mean there isn't anything to believe in, just that I don't know about it"). In the end, TG decided it was better to live her life to the fullest, as she doesn't think there's any absolute proof either, even though I assured her that believing in something, without being specific about it, is a completely acceptable response, too.
But she was truly distressed, and I wished that I could give her a magic box o' answers, with the answer that would make her feel better neatly wrapped. I wonder if not lying to her was just a comfort to me. I don't know that there isn't a divinity, so why not stretch a little toward "there probably is one" or "the majority of people think there is a god". But that leads to the affirming the majority's belief in the inferiority of women, people of a certain race, people of a certain religion, people of a certain ethnic background, and lots of other malignant beliefs.
It's easier when they're small. DG still just flat out believes me when I lie on the floor, check under her bed, and assure her that there are no bad monsters under her bed, just nice ones like Grover and Elmo.
July 29, 2009
July 23, 2009
Vacation Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry
And I'm not. Rather than writing about the minutia of my life, or the annoying minutia of others' lives, I'm just having a great time with my girls in cool, foggy mid-coast (apparently, I'm not in Northern California like I thought I was) California, or, if a few miles inland, sunny and hot California.
TigerGrrl saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince with me. DestructoGirl saw Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, 3D, with Big Grampa. Other notable events have included: the Monterey Aquarium, Point Lobos State Park, Julia Pfeiffer State Park, some other redwood park whose name I do not recall, 17-mile drive, various completely unsafe and hard to get to beaches on Big Sur, the amusement park at Santa Cruz, the beach at Carmel, paddle boats (being chased by Canada geese who thought ill of our intentions), lots of swimming in the Pacific Ocean (mostly in bays where its a smidge warmer, but still pretty darn frigid), whale watching, going out on wharves to watch sea lions and seals, patting various dogs after asking "Is that a friendly dog?" and generally stretching California's already overwhelmed budget to its absolute limit.
Yes, I'll get back to PowerTown eventually. Before that: some kayaking lessons, some biking by the ocean, a few barbecues, the driving range for TG, and other similar events. Also, Big Grampa and his wife are holding up very well. TigerGrrl and stepgrandmother Ludmilla are learning bridge from Big Grampa and me. Big Grampa and I are learning the Russian cardgame Fool from Ludmilla. TG has cooked dinner and breakfast a few times, to universal acclaim. A fair amount of Chianti and Pinot Grigio has been consumed.
Someday I'll get back to regular Internet access and earning my living, but not today.
TigerGrrl saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince with me. DestructoGirl saw Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, 3D, with Big Grampa. Other notable events have included: the Monterey Aquarium, Point Lobos State Park, Julia Pfeiffer State Park, some other redwood park whose name I do not recall, 17-mile drive, various completely unsafe and hard to get to beaches on Big Sur, the amusement park at Santa Cruz, the beach at Carmel, paddle boats (being chased by Canada geese who thought ill of our intentions), lots of swimming in the Pacific Ocean (mostly in bays where its a smidge warmer, but still pretty darn frigid), whale watching, going out on wharves to watch sea lions and seals, patting various dogs after asking "Is that a friendly dog?" and generally stretching California's already overwhelmed budget to its absolute limit.
Yes, I'll get back to PowerTown eventually. Before that: some kayaking lessons, some biking by the ocean, a few barbecues, the driving range for TG, and other similar events. Also, Big Grampa and his wife are holding up very well. TigerGrrl and stepgrandmother Ludmilla are learning bridge from Big Grampa and me. Big Grampa and I are learning the Russian cardgame Fool from Ludmilla. TG has cooked dinner and breakfast a few times, to universal acclaim. A fair amount of Chianti and Pinot Grigio has been consumed.
Someday I'll get back to regular Internet access and earning my living, but not today.
July 8, 2009
What Dreams Might Come
Almost as much as I hate insomnia (and yes, tonight will be an Ambien night), I hate weird/bad dreams. Right now I'm being troubled by a dream of spiders. Really. I hate spiders. They don't threaten or anything, they just spin huge, beautiful webs and then hang out. The part of the dream I remember involves me going out to the garage (I don't have a garage) to get something, finding it, and then turning to leave and discovering that my way is blocked by enormous spiderwebs with enormous spiders residing therein.
It's not an Arachnaphobia-type dream -- I'm not afraid of being poisoned or eaten by the spiders. It is, however, a deeply unpleasant dream. This morning the dream ended when I somehow, in the dream, decided that exit from the garage was not possible and made a bedroll with some conveniently located (isn't that a great feature of dreams? Stuff just turns up.) pile of blankets and lay down to sleep under a cloud of spiderwebs.
,
It's not an Arachnaphobia-type dream -- I'm not afraid of being poisoned or eaten by the spiders. It is, however, a deeply unpleasant dream. This morning the dream ended when I somehow, in the dream, decided that exit from the garage was not possible and made a bedroll with some conveniently located (isn't that a great feature of dreams? Stuff just turns up.) pile of blankets and lay down to sleep under a cloud of spiderwebs.
,
July 5, 2009
Hey, Anyone Wanting a Piece of the Getty Estate
Does anyone actually still fall for this shit? I just found this in my spam folder:
From:
Charles Russell LLP (pbfred@cox.net)
You may not know this
sender.Mark as safeMark as junk
Sent:
Sat 7/04/09 11:14 PM
To:
I have been given the due privillage to bring to your notice that Sir Paul
Getty Jr. has made you one of the beneficiaries to his funds,the sum of
GBP£9,708,692.7) has be WILL to YOU..reply for details..
So please, email Mr. Russell, a/k/a pbfred and ask for your piece of Sir Paul Getty's estate.**I was under the impression it was J. Paul Getty, but who knew.
July 3, 2009
Free Time
The FoilKids are on vacation with their father for the next week, which means I actually will have some free time. I have lots of to-do lists, but honestly, I'll be doing some good knitting and lots and lots of reading. Also, sitting by the pool, scoping out all the muscle-bound guys who appear to reside all around me.
I'll probably do a tattoo inventory. One guy has at least two tattoos on each exposed limb and a few on his back and chest as well. Now, I get wanting to express oneself to the world. For fuck's sake, I'm a blogger: one can't get much more into the "I have something to say that I want other people to know" ethos than blogging. But imprinting it on one's flesh*, especially, well, all of one's flesh? I don't get that.
Yes, I know that means I'm old.
On a completely unrelated subject: On my way home from the pool today, I discovered a discarded sewing machine by the recycling bin. I've brought it home, and it works. And yes, I know how to sew as well as knit. Poor TG will never get a store bought Halloween costume again.
*CookieDear: Your tribal tat is just lovely, as I'm sure, though I haven't seen it, the Darth Vader tattoo is also lovely.
I'll probably do a tattoo inventory. One guy has at least two tattoos on each exposed limb and a few on his back and chest as well. Now, I get wanting to express oneself to the world. For fuck's sake, I'm a blogger: one can't get much more into the "I have something to say that I want other people to know" ethos than blogging. But imprinting it on one's flesh*, especially, well, all of one's flesh? I don't get that.
Yes, I know that means I'm old.
On a completely unrelated subject: On my way home from the pool today, I discovered a discarded sewing machine by the recycling bin. I've brought it home, and it works. And yes, I know how to sew as well as knit. Poor TG will never get a store bought Halloween costume again.
*CookieDear: Your tribal tat is just lovely, as I'm sure, though I haven't seen it, the Darth Vader tattoo is also lovely.
July 2, 2009
Preoccupation
One of the keys to being happy, or at least content, is to enjoy what one has, not to be continually longing for something else and not to be continually worrying about whatever sword of Damocles one imagines hanging over one's head. I think I've been pretty good about getting the most out of the present without unnecessary worry or fretting since the bad old days of the divorce have passed. (New readers: no, I'm not providing links. Just check practically every post from when this blog started in 2005 through 2006 and you'll get a pretty good idea.)
However, the last few weeks have simply had a little two much worry to simply walk away from easily. I'm trying to get my balance. After all, TG is better and has been for a while, NiQ is safely extracted to the greater DC area and Innana is tolerating that pretty well despite the smallness of the condo, while my migraine auras (or ocular migraines) do recur, I live near public transit, so I've been able to limit driving to when I'm rested so I'm not a danger to myself and others, and while I have impending surgery (put off until fall), it's not really life-threatening stuff.
Nonetheless, my workplace has been wracked by worry, my specific job is not threatened, but may end up being very different than what it has been for the last few years (not necessarily a bad thing, might be a chance for growth, but change is always unsettling), and two subordinates have some serious illness issues (various types of cancer), both of which could result in death although I remain hopeful for recovery and good health. The Metro disruptions of the last few weeks haven't ruined my life or injured me or anyone I know, but, and it feels very petty to whinge here, the extended commute involved most days has resulted in higher child-care expenses which I really don't have room for in my budget (especially since my health insurance costs have gone up also, but nothing else has increased). Worst of all, Cousin Roland's wife nearly died during a pregnancy that resulted in a stillbirth at close to eight months, and Aunt Elsebet subsequently had a heart attack. All are recovering, but fuckola. That's all I have to say about that. Also, FoilMormor has a form of leukemia that's not aggressive and probably won't kill her (her doctor said: "You're almost 73 from a line of people who died in their 80s. You're still going to die of whatever you were going to die of, probably in your 80s, maybe later, as you've lived a pretty healthy life." Cheering. Actually, it is cheering.)
On the bright side, which I need to keep repeating to myself, I have a trip scheduled out to see FoilDad by the Pacific, a trip to see FoilMormor up in New England, during which trip I will also see LOS, NSLOS, Nuclear Grammy, and possibly others. I finally figured out how to used the iTunes application adapted for Windows (it only took me three weeks) and have downloaded one very fine musical piece (thank you Rootless Cosmo, more in an email later). I'm not as anxious about my plane change with children in Cincinnati, given Wunelle's assurances about the airport there ("owned by Delta", and I'm flying Delta). TG got straight A's and a principal's award at the end of the school year, and has been busy at the pool and with her scooter club (as well as just running around and being a kid) and DG is busy "smiling her face", and, thank you inane TV clips of things that really don't need to be broadcast again and again, doing a Michael Jackson imitation that involves grabbing her crotch, to the utter horror of TG and NiQ. So of course, DG grabs her crotch again. I think the world can survive this,b ut TG and NiQ just aren't sure.
Anyway, to make many short stories long, I'm back in insomnia land, and not liking it. I'm going to be focusing on relaxing, taking it easy, generally enjoying life. Good goals, right? Most of my worries/preoccupations are things I have very little control over, and the one's that I do have some control over, I'm working on. All really is well. Now, off for my now close to hour-and-a-half commute that used to be 40 minutes.
However, the last few weeks have simply had a little two much worry to simply walk away from easily. I'm trying to get my balance. After all, TG is better and has been for a while, NiQ is safely extracted to the greater DC area and Innana is tolerating that pretty well despite the smallness of the condo, while my migraine auras (or ocular migraines) do recur, I live near public transit, so I've been able to limit driving to when I'm rested so I'm not a danger to myself and others, and while I have impending surgery (put off until fall), it's not really life-threatening stuff.
Nonetheless, my workplace has been wracked by worry, my specific job is not threatened, but may end up being very different than what it has been for the last few years (not necessarily a bad thing, might be a chance for growth, but change is always unsettling), and two subordinates have some serious illness issues (various types of cancer), both of which could result in death although I remain hopeful for recovery and good health. The Metro disruptions of the last few weeks haven't ruined my life or injured me or anyone I know, but, and it feels very petty to whinge here, the extended commute involved most days has resulted in higher child-care expenses which I really don't have room for in my budget (especially since my health insurance costs have gone up also, but nothing else has increased). Worst of all, Cousin Roland's wife nearly died during a pregnancy that resulted in a stillbirth at close to eight months, and Aunt Elsebet subsequently had a heart attack. All are recovering, but fuckola. That's all I have to say about that. Also, FoilMormor has a form of leukemia that's not aggressive and probably won't kill her (her doctor said: "You're almost 73 from a line of people who died in their 80s. You're still going to die of whatever you were going to die of, probably in your 80s, maybe later, as you've lived a pretty healthy life." Cheering. Actually, it is cheering.)
On the bright side, which I need to keep repeating to myself, I have a trip scheduled out to see FoilDad by the Pacific, a trip to see FoilMormor up in New England, during which trip I will also see LOS, NSLOS, Nuclear Grammy, and possibly others. I finally figured out how to used the iTunes application adapted for Windows (it only took me three weeks) and have downloaded one very fine musical piece (thank you Rootless Cosmo, more in an email later). I'm not as anxious about my plane change with children in Cincinnati, given Wunelle's assurances about the airport there ("owned by Delta", and I'm flying Delta). TG got straight A's and a principal's award at the end of the school year, and has been busy at the pool and with her scooter club (as well as just running around and being a kid) and DG is busy "smiling her face", and, thank you inane TV clips of things that really don't need to be broadcast again and again, doing a Michael Jackson imitation that involves grabbing her crotch, to the utter horror of TG and NiQ. So of course, DG grabs her crotch again. I think the world can survive this,b ut TG and NiQ just aren't sure.
Anyway, to make many short stories long, I'm back in insomnia land, and not liking it. I'm going to be focusing on relaxing, taking it easy, generally enjoying life. Good goals, right? Most of my worries/preoccupations are things I have very little control over, and the one's that I do have some control over, I'm working on. All really is well. Now, off for my now close to hour-and-a-half commute that used to be 40 minutes.
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