I don't get it

I was prowling around in a used book store, a favorite meno haunt (Halloween is coming, so please note clever insertion of the word haunt,) when i was stopped by the Employee Recommendation table.

There was a blurb about the book Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt. The blurb went something like this, "Hysterically funny yarn about growing up dirt poor in Catholic Ireland. You will laugh right along with Frank as he grows up." Without regard to the ending of this sentence with a preposition, i couldn't believe this "review".

I have read this book. I cannot say that the word hysterical ever occurred to me whilst i was reading. Wry, self-deprecating, horrible...all those might have come to mind. It makes me wonder if the person who wrote this even read the book. Or did i miss something?

There was this movie, quite a while ago, called After Hours, starring Griffin Dunne and Teri Garr, and maybe some other people. It's one of the most uncomfortable movies i have ever seen. It's the story of this man just trying to get home in New York, and everything weird that can happen does. I have nightmares like this movie, why would i want to watch it on the silver screen?

One night, when we lived in Colorado, we went to another couple's house for dinner and the after dinner entertainment was, yes, you guessed it, After Hours. The couple happily told us that it was hysterically funny. So i had to watch it again. Ugh.

I believe i have a reasonable sense of humor, maybe even a whacked out one, but i was unable to find the humor in either Angela's Ashes or After Hours.

I am curious if you have ever puzzled over something that was described to you as funny, and wondered what the hell was funny about it.

Caution, contents may explode

I've been wallowing, lying low and licking my wounds, castigating myself, knitting a hair shirt.

I totally lost it with Em on Saturday night. I could explain it all and tell you what happened, but really, she's 16, and the queen of passive-aggressive defiance. What more do you need to know? Without regard to what happened, losing it is never cool, never. I screamed, SCREAMED at her like a hyena on steroids. I didn't slap her, but oh, did i want to.

I hate it when i let this happen. It takes me a few weeks to forgive myself. I know i have to, but i just feel like shit for it.

We were out after an event (Julia Sweeney's "Letting Go of God", which is most excellent) and Em was behaving badly while attempting to drive us home. The Mister ended up driving while the two of us cried.

What a great role model i am.

The only upside of this is that Em is behaving herself and listening to my driving suggestions without arguing. I think i scared her.

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It's starting to get dark here earlier and earlier. I feel the weight of all that darkness pressing down on me. I try to think about how it only gets worse until November 22, then it's all uphill from there. I ignore the fact that the expanding daylight is an exponential curve.

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Thinking of the people in San Diego as i listen to the news today. One thousand homes destroyed, One thousand. I will not whine anymore.

Just for fun

A meme, about food, from peevish. (I am peeved that she thought of such a great name before i did.) You are to take each letter from your blogging name and give a little food fact to go with it.

Thank dog my name is short, although i am not. Heavens forfend if she had said give a food fact for each inch of your height. We'd be here forever.

M: Mother's Milk. (See previous post in case you need an illustration.) Upon being born, Em took one look at these babies and she knew right what to do. It's a good thing because i sure as hell was puzzled. All i was left to do was to figure out how to hold her while she ate. I only breastfed Em for 3 months. Then i had to return to the clean room at school and fuss with weird chemicals in order to make bi-polar junction transistors. I was sad. I missed it.

Oh, and mochi, the kind with ice cream inside.

E: I make great baba ghanoush (wonder what spell check will make of that?) Baba ghanoush is made from Eggplant. A friend taught me to make it. We always set off the smoke alarms until we got a grill upon which to abuse the eggplant. I also love the word "aubergine." Say it a few times. Doesn't that feel good? Aubergine is French, or somesuch language, for eggplant.

Oh and edamame.

N: noodles, udon or soba. Not those nasty pre-cooked packages, but the real stuff from the Asian grocery store. Cook. rinse in cold water, add a little soy sauce, rice vinegar and chopped little green onions, stir, and shovel into your mouth using the chopsticks as a back hoe. Slurping is not optional.

O: oysters, plucked fresh from the slimy, barnacled rocks of Puget sound, opened without slicing my hand, with a little fresh lemon and cocktail sauce that i have carried down to the beach with me. I am alone. It is low tide, so the airs smells like....low tide. I hear seagulls. Mmmm, perfect.


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Please do this meme if you would like. I'm too lazy to tag people because it means linking, which means typing, at which i suck, unlike run-on sentences, at which i excel.

Late and Hate

Ever one to jump on a bandwagon, even if i am late to the party, here is a picture of Em feeding at the boob of Meno. Look at my big hand with her tiny fingers curled around it. I just love this picture. I loved breastfeeding. You can see the presence of cats in our life has been constant. This is Eliot. He was a great cat. He died when he was 16, and Em was 10. God i loved him.

This is in reaction to Facebook, where a decision was made to pull off a picture of a breastfeeding woman because it was obscene. One comment was that it was akin to masturbating or defecating in public.

I couldn't find a picture of me masturbating or defecating (oh, the google hits i will get) so this will have to do.

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I am having emotion today. I was sitting next to Em while she was driving on the way home from school. She pulled up at a stop sign to go left, and blocked the view of a woman trying to turn right. This is how this intersection works, she just needed to inch forward a bit more to see around Em.

She looked at me, in the passenger seat, and started swearing and calling Em a fucking bitch and flipped her off. I rolled down my window and she didn't like that so she sped off.

I am furious. The kind of anger that makes my chest heat up, my head feel pressure, my heart pound and then i want to cry.

She called my baby, my 16 year old new driver, who didn't do anything wrong, a fucking bitch. I want to rip out her heart with my bare hands and feed it, still beating, to her.

Rational, not. I know. But i now understand the situation of one of you, who was charged with felony assault because she threw her keys at a car that almost ran her and her two young boys down in a parking lot crosswalk. It could have been me.

Separating

More fucking child drama. Let's see if i can sum this up succinctly.

Em is all freaked out over applying to and getting in to college. I am more relaxed. I KNOW that she will get into a college and get a good education and have a good life.

So, Em really wants to go to a certain large public college on the east coast. The real reason that she wants to go there is because that's where her girlfriend goes. It's scary to go off to college by yourself, i understand that.

My bias is that i don't really want her to go that far away. If something goes wrong, it can be more than a day's travel to get to her. She won't be able to be around for the smaller holidays, like Thanksgiving or her birthday, only Christmas and summer really. I fully admit this is my bias and i may need to just get over it.

There is a slightly better large public college in this area, plus we wouldn't have to pay out-of-state tuition. She is very likely to get into both of these colleges, and a few more that may be even better suited to her interests.

She asked me yesterday is she can apply "early decision" to the east coast college. That means that is they accept her, she has to go. The advantage is that she will know by the end of the year, the disadvantage is that it leaves her no other option.

I thought about it for a long time. The Mister and i discussed it. Then i said no. I don't want her to limit her choices like that.

I am trying to separate my fears from her desires. I think i have. I want to do what is best for her. But i hate having her mad at me. Such is the fate of playing the parent role rather than the friend role. And believe it or not, she hates being mad at me. I think it bothers her more than it bothers me.

Thanks for listening.

Pitch this.

Today i went off and answered phones at KUOW, our local public radio station, during their fall pledge drive. I've never done that before, and i thought it might be kind of interesting. Besides, i am a public radio addict, so i was curious to see inside the station.

There is this whole unpaid workforce of middle-aged and up women who make up the majority of the personnel for everything that i have ever volunteered for. This phone-answering gig was no exception.

I swear to god they are ditsy though. I don't know if it's age, or if it's ditsy women who no longer work. (Yes, i REALIZE that i am speaking about myself. Shut Up!) Or maybe these women never worked. I kept having to show the two women sitting next to me what to do, and both of them have done this before.

At the radio station they call it "pitching" where i call it "begging." They warn you when they are going back to begging so you can be ready to answer the phones.

People are weird. I had one person call so he could complain about a story in the local alternative paper claiming that KUOW has a million dollars stashed away. What am i supposed to do about that dude? I had two people try to give me expired credit cards.

It was easy, and fun, and the free lunch was most excellent. For that alone i would do it again.

Plus i got a free nalgene bottle with the KUOW logo on it. Cool beans.

What not to do, VB story the second

This is a true story, in a land far away and a time long ago:

(Here's part 1, if you care to get caught up, but it's not necessary in order to gasp in horror over this story.)

So SIL, aka, Vituperative Bitch (VB) invited the Mister and i over for dinner. She was living in her new apartment after dumping husband number 1, with all new furniture that her father had bought for her.

She was waiting for her boss, her future second ex-husband, to leave his wife, so she had taken up with Ray, her tennis instructor, in the meantime, to fill the gaping hole, so to speak. Ray had also been invited to dinner that night.

The Mister and i arrived ahead of Ray. I remember watching VB pour too much olive oil over the salad as she told us that Boss was planning to leave his wife that night, then come over to her apartment afterwards. If Boss did end up doing the dumping deed, she was going to have to find a way to get Ray to leave, because Ray had the expectation of staying the night.

The Mister and i immediately offered to leave and re-schedule for a better night, as we understood that Boss might not want us there.

"Oh, no," she answered, "he really wants to meet you. Besides, if he (Boss) doesn't do it, then Ray will still be here."

We should have insisted. I poured a glass of wine.

So Ray arrived, dinner was eaten, conversation happened. He seemed like a nice guy, although not overly endowed with brains. We moved to the living room where Ray took off his shoes and wristwatch, and poured himself another glass of wine in anticipation of a red hot game of trivial pursuit.

The phone rang.

VB disappeared into her bedroom with the phone.

**Insert stilted conversation between the Mister, Ray and myself here.**

VB reappeared and dragged Ray into the bedroom. He came out after about ten minutes ( i can't even imagine what story she told him) and slowly put on his watch and shoes. His face was all flushed, i suspect because he was mortified. I know i was. And so he left.

VB came back out of the bedroom whereupon the Mister and i repeated our offer to leave. VB insisted that we stay as she really wanted us to meet the love of her life.

I poured another glass of wine. Boss arrived about thirty minutes later. I poured another glass of wine.

**Insert VERY stilted conversation between the Mister. Boss, VB and myself here.**

I poured another glass of wine.

Truly an evening to remember.

My husband has something to tell me

The Mister came home from grocery shopping last week with these gourds and squashes. "I thought they would look nice on the table," he said.

Then he proceeded to show me the Mr Clean Magic Eraser sponge he bought. He told me that he had read the information on all the sponges and these were very cool. He excitedly told me all about them, including their magic qualities.

Oh My God! My husband is gay! Holiday decorations and cleaning supplies? I guess someone has to do it. Maybe i have something i need to tell him too.

Then again the form that our love takes is unimportant, just that there is love.

Happy National Coming Out Day y'all.

And now for something completely different....

How do you like them potatoes?

Ok, maybe not so different.

Whenever i post something like that which is below, i have dreams of abandonment. I wake up and have to transfer my consciousness to reality, reminding myself that i am not abandoned. I wake up feeling heavy and sad.

And just to be clear, i IN NO WAY, criticize any decision that any one else has made. Couples cannot and should not always stay together. Abuse, drugs, repeated infidelity..... are not to be forgiven.

And while you were all complimentary to me, you must realize that the pasting back together of this family was not accomplished by the sheer force of my will alone. There had to be two of us. One willing to TRY and forgive, and one who was truly sorry and wanted to be forgiven.

Okay, that's enough of that.

Interview with a vampire

This is where the fairies dance in my yard at night.

I asked Chani to interview me. I have had these questions from her for over a week. I think they are quite beautiful, but they have been hard to answer. I have written and revised, and edited, and then edited some more. I am still not satisfied, but i realize i will never be.

1. You woke up this morning and by some miracle, you are a lawyer. What would you choose as your specialty?

Hara-kiri? Ok, just kidding, i couldn't resist throwing in a lawyer dis. First off, that would be a miracle.

If i had to be a lawyer, i would choose either environmental law or child advocacy. Well, now that i think about it, i would have to say environmental, because i think being involved in divorces and abuse cases would suck the heart right out of me. Suing the ass off large corporations that rape the land and poison the world would please the hell out of me.

Or maybe a public defender. I am pretty smart, and talking care of people who would normally get screwed because they are poor, that would be good.

2. Meno (of Meno and Socrates) says that virtue is a desire for honorable things and the power to attain them. Ignoring Socrates' nitpicking, what do you consider to be honorable things and how do you attain them?

I consider it honorable to be living your life in such a way as to minimize your negative impact on the earth and other people. And to allow other people to live their lives as they choose, as long as they don't impact anyone else's life in a negative way.

For example, that Mormon guy who heads that cult is running his life the way he wants, but forcing a girl to become the 5th wife of her 40 year old cousin when she is 13 does not minimize the negative impact on her. I hope he rots in hell. So it's not like anything goes.

As to how to achieve virtue, it can only come from awareness. Willingness to view your own self honestly. I am still working on this.

3. You mentioned once that you hadn't intended to have children. How do you imagine your life would have been different if you'd not had children?

I wasn't always SURE i would ever want to have children, but having Em was entirely intentional.

There are many ways my life would have been different, but chiefly, i would not still be married to the Mister. There are things that i would not have tried to survive with him if i had not had another person's life to consider. But knowing that her future, self-image, relationships with men and understanding of commitment were at stake, i tried harder than i ever have at anything. So without her i would not know what it really means to put someone else first.

Also there would be less laundry, fewer hugs, less noise, and less laughing.

4. In light of that, in what way has your daughter (or any child you might have had) enriched your life?

It is very healing to be able to raise a child with love. I am capable of raising a happy child. How the hell did that happen? She also provides me with great company. She makes me laugh and want to beat her, sometimes simultaneously.

There is no adequate answer for this, really all i can say is that she has taught me how deep love really is. Sorry for the sappiness, but there are no words.

5. What do you consider to be the most pivotal historical event of your lifetime?

I would like to say my wedding or the birth of Em, or some such sweetness, but as a person who questions her own worth, my most pivotal event come from trial by fire, not from love. What has really shaped my life, in ways both good and bad, is beingdumped and lied to by the Mister when Em was 3. I discovered:
my capacity for pain
i can take care of myself
how hard it is for me to forgive
the depth of hate i can feel and not commit murder
how to really be an adult
that i am not immune to the shit the world can dish out (i thought maybe i was special, what a smug ass i was.)
how low i can sink
i am the stronger one in this relationship
how stubborn i can be
that i WILL live, even if i don’t want to

Thank you Chani.

In Which i try to Pass

Today i tried to go and act like a real girl. I went shopping for quilt fabric with 3 other women. We are going to make either a holiday table runner or holiday place mats.

The prerequisite was to bring a plate from our holiday dishes. You know, so we can match the fabric to our dishes.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...heh.

Holiday dishes? Someone does not know me. I do not own Holiday Place Settings. I wonder why i would ever need more than one set of dishes. They would just take up space and need dusting. And they would probably have cranberries or some such as a theme. Cranberries. Me. Ha.

I am lacking in a major girl gene.

I tried to fit in. But they knew i was an impostor. We all had a good laugh because they figured that i was not the type to have holiday dishes. They were right.

But my god, how long can anyone be at a fabric store and talk about color matching and undertones and shit?

A long time apparently.

Jellyfish have no spine

All my life i have heard this phrase and it never fails to piss me off. I heard it again yesterday and my reaction has not tempered over the years.

My husband/boyfriend won't let me.

I translate this into any number of real meanings, all of them negative.

1) I am spineless and weak.
2) I really don't want to _______ so i am using my husband as an excuse.
3) I am married to a controlling bastard.
4) I am a doormat.
5) I think being a woman means i should cater to my man.
6) I don't want to worry my pretty little head about it.
7) I am an idiot.
8) I don't want the responsibilities of being an adult.
9) I married daddy.

He won't LET you? What are you? Twelve?

UGH! Just UGH.

Over the years i have heard this applied to anything from getting a job to cutting off hair to going back to school. Even once to using tampons instead of pads. I am not making that up either.

This kind of statement is a real conversation stopper. I never know what to say other than "huh." And then i look at her as if she just stepped off of an alien vessel.

Do you ever hear this and does it bother you as much as it bugs me?

This rant was brought to you by an acquaintance of mine, who's husband won't let her drive at night, ever.

Visitor

Photo by The Mister.

I have just finished up one of the best weeks i have ever had. One of my most favorite people flew all the way to Seattle to visit with me for a week, leaving her husband and children behind.

We went on a sailboat ride in Puget Sound on a glorious day.

We went hiking on three different days. The weather cooperated unexpectedly well and my friend ooh-ed and ah-ed over the incredible beauty we witnessed. I was thrilled to be able to share it with her.

We brought back wild blueberries from our last hike and ate them for breakfast the next day.

We went shopping at the tall girl's shop (we are both 6' tall) and were each able to find things that fit with long enough sleeves. We didn't fight over any of it.

We went downtown in search of ridiculously large shoes. Unsuccessfully, but that is beside the point.

We frightened a short waiter at an Italian restaurant. We probably frightened other people too. That was fun.

We talked about things both important and unimportant, from the nature of friendship to hair-coloring, or lack thereof.

We ate excellent food that we cooked together. I am completely comfortable having her as a co-cook. There was wine too, many bottles in fact.

The Mister and i dropped her off at the airport this morning. I shed a few tears as we drove away.

There are plans for next year, including both our spouses, whom i also adore.

What not to do, a VB story

A true story:

Years ago, when the Mister and i were first married and my SIL (aka Vituperative Bitch) was on her first husband (Poor Bastard, number 1 of 4) she and PB invited us over for dinner on a Sunday.

We arrived, as is only proper, a few minutes late only to find that VB was working that day and had not arrived home yet. PB made us at home and we unscrewed the top from the bottle of wine we had brought.

VB arrived home an hour later, drunk, wearing her boss’ sweater with no bra on underneath. (Boss was later to become husband number 2 of 4.)

She lasted about an hour, and then went off to bed with one of her headaches.

AWKWARD!

Next time i saw her was at her parent’s house a few weeks later, where she met me at the front door to ask me if i was going to say anything to her parents about “The Other Night.” I said no, but looking back, i should have made her sweat more.

I have many other VB stories that are not dissimilar to this one. I should write a book, but no one would believe it.

Perhaps she'll die

Picture by The Mister

We live near water, so there are lots of spiders. I am not much fond of spiders, but if they stay away from me and don't surprise me, it's okay.

It's starting to get colder here, so the spiders are moving indoors. I have explained my rules about contact to the spiders, but they act like they don't understand.

One of them, a pretty big one, built a web in our sunroom, from the ceiling to the coffee table. The web was at least a foot in diameter. And there she sat, right in the middle of it, waiting.

I mentioned it to the Mister, so that he could carry out his executioner function, but he forgot. Yesterday when i got home, she was still there. I sat on the couch and read a book, about 3 feet away.

I looked up occasionally to make sure that she was not going to leap at me. She sat there so patiently, so still, that i began to feel sorry for her. There was not much chance for her to catch anything inside our sunroom, a last meal as it were. I actually considered trying to go outside a find a gnat or a fly to fling at her web. Why am i feeling sorry for her when the Mister was going to squish her when he got home?

Mousenannegans

Last night, as i was almost asleep, a loud cry rent the air, followed by much sobbing. The Mister was still downstairs, so i pulled the pillow over my head and hoped that he could deal with whatever disaster had befallen Em. But alas, it was not to be. A sobbing Em, proclaiming herself to be the worst person in the world, soon found her way up to my bedside.

Em recently acquired two pet mice. We have three cats. Em left the cage open. You get the picture.

One corpse was located immediately, but the other could not be found. We decided to let our noses be our guide over the next few days.

We don't know which of the felines is the guilty party, but i have my suspicions as Brown Cat was strumming a guitar and singing this song:

Love to eat them mousies,
Mousies what I love to eat.
Bite they tiny heads off,
Nibble on they tiny feet. *

I tried to calm Em while hiding my amusement, as these particular mice had originally been purchased as "feeder mice" for a snake. The tale of their stay of execution is long and boring, so never mind.

Em eventually went off to bed, still crying. The Mister and i chuckled a bit, whilst grumbling about the noise level in the house.

This morning, Em picked up her school book bag and found one very traumatized but unhurt mouse underneath. This afternoon we went to the pet store to buy a new mouse, as they do better in pairs. The lady at the pet store asked, "Friend or food?" It seems that if the mouse is to be a friend, there is a 15 day guarantee, otherwise, not. I found that to be most amusing.

*B. Kliban

Life, and death

I received a phone call last night from my mother. My father collapsed yesterday at a Macy's store and was in the hospital. While i can certainly understand this reaction to Macy's, it does seem a bit extreme. She had spent all day with him at the hospital and was just getting home to sit, alone, with a glass of wine and a cat.

I calmly received this news, and asked relevant questions of my mother, allowing her to talk excessively, which is what she does when stressed.

It seems to be nothing too serious, he did not have a heart attack, which is always a worry given his medical history. It may have been nothing worse than dehydration, he may need a pacemaker or to adjust his meds. We'll know more later.

After i hung up, the Mister listened to me relate the contents of the call, and then asked me, "Will you be devastated when your dad dies?"

The answer is, i don't think so. My dad has been a shadowy presence in my life for years. I think as a casualty of the relationship between my mother and me, as a result of no effort on either of our parts and of deafness (his, not mine.)

My dad is a nice man. But i have no idea who, if anyone, is in there. I am not sure if he has any idea either. He's been playing the congenial but vague man for so long it may, like the Velveteen Rabbit, have become real.

Think i'll invite him to lunch soon, if i can engineer his escape from my mother. Or maybe it's to late for us. But i should find out.

Friends?

Someone did something really sweet for me last week. It was a total surprise. This is someone who i consider to be an acquaintance, not really a friend. But from her actions, she sees me as more of a friend.

How odd. This makes me realize that i don't expect people to like me.

That is absurd because if i stop to think about it, i realize that this isn't true. I am wondering what opportunities i have missed from having this expectation.

Where this leads in my mind is to the people i consider to be among my favorite, whom i have never told. Because i don't want them to tell me that i am not among their favorite. Or perhaps because it's not important. Would they stop being among my favorites if i was not among theirs? Nope.

Would it hurt my feelings? Probably. Would i get over it? Yes.

Mulling it over in my head.

Mood elevation

Yesterday it was raining.

Such was my mood and paucity of finer feeling for my fellow humans that i felt an unnatural happiness at the ruination of all the outdoor weddings that were planned for the day.

So the Mister and i took ourselves off to see the movie Dragon Wars. I have a thing for dragon movies. I get a huge thrill from Sleeping Beauty when Maleficent rises from the castle in a blaze of malevolent glory. My heart soars when the beast in Dragonheart flies. I bought the video of the movie Dragonslayer so that i could watch that wonderful beast fly through the air. (I think that one is my favorite movie dragon.)

I even went to see Eragon, although during the closing credits i felt compelled to lean over and whisper, "I'm so sorry," to the friend i had dragged with me.

I am such a geek that i think The Lords of the Rings is probably the best movie (i consider them all as one movie) ever made.

Not all dragons are okay, i loathe Barney.

Dragon Wars is a Korean movie that took 8 years to make and really is a glorious mess. The acting, the plot, the editing, all are......really, REALLY bad. But the dragons were SO COOL!

I haven't laughed that much at a movie in ages. And it is not a comedy. Just what i needed.

It really is sweet

I met another mom from Em's school in the school library the other day for something or other and Em happened to come in while we were there so i called out "Hi Sweetie," to her.

"Hi Mommy," she replied.

The other mom practically melted. "Awww," she said, "she still calls you mommy. I miss that." She has a boy who is 12, and apparently he decided a few years ago that mommy was for sissies, or some such. Or maybe his friends convinced him, i don't know.

When Em was first learning to talk, i tried to teach her to call the Mister and me by our first names instead of mommy and daddy, you know, because i just think i'm so cool sometimes. (Ha!) That worked until she started going to preschool. She just started calling us mommy and daddy and has ever since.

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I am having some trouble with reality the past few days. I want to just keep on reading books so that i don't have to be in this world. I want to live in a world where the dialogue is clever, the vocabulary is large and love wins in the end. I want to live in a world where magic is possible, good triumphs over evil and the conflicts have an end. Sigh.

I think i've been listening to the news too much.

Olio

Thank you all for your comments on my last post. It really made me think. For now, i will keep it and wear it, but when the right time comes to give it up, a la a really lovely suggestion from a self-proclaimed brilliant yet vulgar curmudgeon jerk geek (i may be paraphrasing a bit,) i will do so without any hesitation.

Dear Diary,

I woke up this morning at 3am. I did not go back to sleep. My eyes are burning with the tired. I must sleep tonight so that i can get up in the morning and kick my squash partner's ass. Thank you,

-meno

Ms. Chica and her spouse are in town. This morning they arrived at my house and allowed me to take them on a bit of a hike. The weather is GLORIOUS and we had a lovely time. It was very sweet to see Ms. Chica again, i wish she lived closer, and Mr. Hombre was very congenial and easy to chat with. You know how some people say things so that you will know how important they are in the world? He did not do one bit of that. The sign of a secure person, and somewhat rare.

I forgot my damned camera, so alas, no pictures. Suffice it to say that the view from the top was sensational.

Plus Ms. Chica brought me cookies that she made her own self and carried on the plane with her. I told you it was sweet to see her again, i meant it literally.

Money

I bought a thing. Several years ago, back when we first had some money. Back when it was a new thing to me, to have money.

I should back up a little, to explain. The Mister and i have this agreement. The amount of money he spends on his cars, and it has been a lot, is the same amount that i get to have to do as i please. That way i don't resent the car money. Now he has a fancy car, and i have a great savings account, which makes me feel safe.

But i bought this thing, and now i am ashamed of it. It is a piece of jewelry. A silly thing. It cost more money than ANYONE should ever spend on jewelry. It is immoral, in my mind. But i was drunk with the money, and i wanted this thing.

Silly girl.

So now i have this thing, and i wore it for a while. But it made me ashamed. How many people could i have helped with this money?

So i put it away. It sat in my closet. And when i thought of it, i was ashamed of myself. I would see it in the drawer, and in my medicine cabinet, and i would feel like a shit.

I used to wish that i would lose it, so i could get the insurance money, (yes, i have it insured, it is valuable,) and do something good with that money.

But i am not okay with insurance fraud. So i treated it casually, and slung it around, and then forgot about it.

Just yesterday i got it out, having found it in a desk drawer. It's pretty. I am wearing it. I feel like wearing a lesson, a valuable lesson.

I can't decide if it's silly not to wear it, or if it makes me too ashamed.

NOW who's whining?

Fight with the Mister. My fault. I let something go too long and then blew up about it so that he felt ambushed. Not cool. Wonder if i will ever learn.

But really, i have trouble knowing what to just let go and what to bring up. Much of the stuff that bugs me i just let go, because it's stupid. For example, i dislike how when the Mister gets home he stands in the kitchen and yells "Hello" until i answer. It shatters the quiet of the house. When i come home, i go and find him, i wish he would do the same.

But i've never told him this, because it's not really important. Or maybe it is.

I blew up when he spilled wine on the carpet, and then complained about our glasses. He liked these glasses before, but then he started criticizing them and saying that they cause him to fumble. So use the real wine glasses dude!

But that was just the trigger, the bullet was already full of gunpowder waiting to explode. I am tired of him complaining so much. To my mind, he does it a lot.

• The weather isn't sunny enough for him to go and take pictures on the weekend. (And then when it is he doesn't go anyway. )
  
• He hates his job most of the time. Many details are given, repeatedly.


• Both his big toenails are falling off due to some too small hiking boots. He's bummed, repeatedly. (I should post a picture, it is soooo gross.)


• Em is disrespectful to him.


• He's tired.


• And on and on.

I usually just listen. But this time i got pissed and went to the weapons-grade yelling with my response. It all came out, how i wish he would stop complaining so much and being so cranky so much.

If you think about it, it's amusing that i was yelling at him, whilst accusing HIM of being cranky. Hmmm, what's wrong with this picture.

I think i don't tell him about the things that bug me sometimes because if i tell him and he still does it, it will make me feel like he doesn't care. And that would make me mad.

This treatise on Happily Ever After was brought to you by meno.

"Where have you been, young lady?"

You know how when you have something you need to do, but it is a little behind and will take some time and you're not really ready to deal with it, so you ignore it, so it gets more behind so you REALLY don't want to look at it now, so you ignore it some more?

Yeah. That's what i did yesterday. I ignored the internet and read a trashy detective novel instead. But this morning, the internet is still there. Amazing.

We took our Japanese exchange student, Asuka, to the airport yesterday morning and said goodbye. It was sad. We ended up having a really good time with her. She came with a group of students who all stayed with other students from Em's school. There was a large group of kids at the airport, with all the girls weeping and declaring undying friendship and the boys standing around punching each other.

Some observations:

• The Japanese girls all have the same haircut. One of Em's friends called it The Japanese Schoolgirl Mullet. That pretty much sums it up.
• None of the Japanese kids are overweight in the slightest. About half of the Americans are. I find that sad.
• The Japanese eat like lumberjacks. I don't know where Asuka put it all. The Mister says that food is very expensive in Japan, so they eat everything in front of them. Don't know if this is true or not.
• Asuka LOVED to shop. I took her to the mall and we went into every single store and she didn't buy anything. This was repeated several times during her visit at different malls.
• She also loves Starbucks. Asuka purchased many souvenir items from Starbucks as gifts, including a pound of coffee beans. I don't think she has a grinder either, but she was insistent upon beans, rather than ground coffee.
• One family hosted a pool party one night so i got to see all the visitors. You should have seen their eyes whenever i would stand up. I think in Japan i would frighten small children.
• Asuka used two towels everyday, one for each shower. She would trot out each morning with a small pile of laundry and want to do a teeny load every day. If she had been staying longer i would have had a chat with her about this, but for a week? Eh.
• I took Asuka to a Top Foods (a large grocery store) so she could buy gifts for her family. Here is a sample of the things she bought; those little boxes of cereal, Chips Ahoy cookies, a bag of Jujubes, Altoids mints, Triscuits.
• Asuka was always exclaiming "SO BIG!" Our dishwasher, our refrigerator, her bedroom, our cats, our houses (and our house was the smallest one she saw while she was here,) our cars....
• She was not used to riding in cars and i had to remind her many times to put on her seatbelt. "Oh yes, seatbelt!" she would say.
• I would host an exchange student again in a heartbeat.

BASTARDS!

A close up of my skin.

Something i thought would never happen to me has occurred. Something which has changed the whole way i see the world, and the way the whole world sees me. It has even changed the way i see myself. And it hurt me far more than i ever thought it would.

How did they know? Is it part of the president's domestic surveillance program? I may write to my congressperson. This is an outrage. I will not be treated in such a manner. I mean, HOW DARE THEY?

"What has happened?" you may ask, that has violated my spirit in such an egregious manner? I'll tell you what! In advance of the anniversary of my birth, upcoming more rapidly that i can deny, i received (*sob*) a membership solicitation from the AARP.

Those bastards!

Passion (no, not that kind)

Columnar basalt

I have been doing some listening lately, and a common thread has unwound from dissimilar narratives and wrapped around my brain.

Three people lately have been telling me about things that they do in this life because they want to, because it's a passion. One person does it as a volunteer, the others for work.

I observe the passion in these people, and i listen. Curiously, most of what i am seeing that could be called a strong emotion looks a lot like anger.

So are they having fun? I mean, is this passion a good thing? Truthfully, i try and avoid things that will make me angry. (I do read/listen to the news, because i don't want to be too ignorant, and that often does make me angry. But other than that, if it is likely to piss me off, i will avoid it if i can.)

All three of the people who have been talking to me seemed very unhappy and frustrated with a lot of their lives. I did ask one, the one who is the volunteer, why she keeps on with this task, when it upsets and angers her so much. She couldn't really answer me except for that it involves her church, and she feels like she has no choice but to continue.

I don't know exactly what i am trying to say here. I was just caught by the fact that none of these three are experiencing any joy from their chosen passions. Maybe passion isn't supposed to make you happy and i should be glad to be without one.

Then again, maybe happiness is overrated.

Reality....bites, albeit gently

Reality has intruded on the fantasy world in which the House of Meno exists. Em went back to school this morning, and the Mister back to work. And although my life doesn't change much with the advent of the regularly scheduled fall activities, i will miss having the two of them around. Except for when they piss me off.

Em has begun her senior year of high school. Ack! Senior year! Of High School! My Baby! I am both excited and scared for when she leaves home next year at about this time. Excited for the trips that the Mister and i will be able to take. Scared because she just a baby. How she will exist without her mama, i cannot imagine.

We have an exchange student from Japan here this week and through the weekend. It is difficult for me to fully imagine how strange this must be for her. But she is a trouper and just keeps on trying to speak with us. She understands quite a bit, but we must speak slowly. I admire her courage for coming at all.

She looks around at everything and says, "So big!" Our dishwasher, our car, our refrigerator, our house, even the cats. I can tell that she is not used to riding in a car because i keep having to remind her to put her seat belt on.

She cooked us a wonderful lunch yesterday and taught us how to roll tekka-maki sushi. Maybe i'll just keep her.

This is the sunset view of Mount Baker out the window of my room at the B&B. And i woke up looking out at that view too. I am not worthy.

The B&B had a little guest book for people to leave comments. I wanted to write "Sorry about the blood on the sheets, the goat was a virgin," but my friend wouldn't let me. She's mean like that.

These flowers are called "Mouse on a stick" and feel as soft as they look. There were entire fields of them. I think they were designed by Dr. Seuss.

It was spectacularly beautiful at the top of our hike. This is a view of Mount Shuksan from our lofty perch at 6145 feet above sea level.

Thistles:
This little fellow startled a shriek and an "Oh, Shit!" out of me as i came upon him in on the trail.
A little bit of heaven. I tried to inhale the air and fill up my entire heart with it to hold on to forever. I think i succeeded, at least for a little while.

The CIRCLE OF LIFE....(la la la)

Time: Yesterday afternoon

Place:Check out line at the Pet Store

A very macho looking man was buying a mouse in a cardboard box, probably to feed his snake.

Em, standing in line right behind him, was buying food for her two recently acquired pet mice.

***********************************************

I am off again for a few days. Going hiking at Mt. Baker with my friend, Kim. We are staying in a Bed & Breakfast with feather beds. We are NOT roughing it.

In Praise of Nothing

As i was racing through the bookstore yesterday, on my way to the trashy novels, i was stopped by this book:

It actually reached out and smacked me on the shoulder as i went by. So i stopped and took a peek and bought it. I haven't read it yet, but i will.

Last week i met another retired person, and he asked me what i did with my time. (I realized after he asked me this, that he really was waiting for me to ask him back so he could tell me about the fabulous things that he is doing.) I get asked that question with some frequency. It's always hard for me to answer. I exercise, i read, i have lunch with friends, i blog. Not much. Certainly nothing exciting to talk about.

I don't have a passion. I am not writing a novel or making music or traveling the world taking pictures of rare animals. (Two of which the above mentioned man was doing.) I am not collecting violins or opening a start-up company or attending board meetings of charitable organizations. I am not creating art, or becoming a master gardener or learning how to make gourmet meals.

What i am doing is being perfectly happy doing nothing of any importance to the world. I'm so happy that i am not even ashamed of my lack of purpose.

I do not want to be criticising people who do these things. Have at it, i say. But it's also okay to just be living. It's more than okay, it's great! I highly recommend it.

I looked on Amazon this morning, so as to get the picture of the book, and it appears that there are quite a few books about being idle and doing nothing. I had no idea that there is a small, but growing, movement out there for Idlers.

Damn, I hope i won't feel moved to write my own book about it.

Dinner conversation

Meno's aunt Dinner guest #1: "Oh, you bought organic chicken. I read in the paper that there's no difference, so i don't bother."

Meno's mom Dinner guest #2: "And i read that free range chicken has more fat."

Meno Hostess: Rolls eyes.

Later that very same night:

Dinner guest #1: "I like this wine. Where did you get it?"

Hostess: "Costco! "

Dinner guest #2: "I can't imagine that they have anything all that great."

Later that very same night:

Dinner guest #2: "May i have some more wine?"

Hostess: "Hmmm, better not, i don't think you'll like it."

Girl, Entertaining

This week's Friday word from Mona is Girl. This word, and Maggie's post, made me think of all the silly love names i have called Em over the years.

Mrs. Fish
Fishie
Missafishie
Monkey Pie
Pie Made out of Tiny Monkeys
Sunshine Binar
Stormcloud Binar
Stinker
Gooseflesh
Girl who really should be spanked (from Rudyard Kipling)
Banana manna
Love Puppy
Cat Attack
Fuzzbutt
Peaches
Pinkie

And here's what i did to her yesterday:

Before:

After:

It's fun having a girl.

What are your child's/pet's/whomever's nicknames?

Be careful what you ask for

I practically begged Amusing to tag me for this meme. Do you know why?

Me neither.

Actually it was because i thought it would be hard to do. I'll see if that's true. Because it would be way WAY WAY easier to do a list of ten things i don't like about me. And that's sad.

That's what i like about me, yeah!:

1) I would never cheat on any partner. Ever. I would not cheat with someone else's partner. Ever. I like to flirt with men i like, but only with the very clear understanding that NOTHING will ever come of it. If i wouldn't do it in front of my husband or his wife, i wouldn't do it.

2) I like my vocabulary. I love words and i like to use them. I like that i don't pretend to know what a word means if i don't know. I'll just ask, and then admire the word.

3) Sometimes i really can shut the hell up and listen, really listen, without waiting for the other person to finish their silly little prattle so i can tell MY fascinating tale. When i do listen, damn if i don't usually end up learning something really interesting.

4) I am dependable. I will never say yes to something and then bag out because a better offer came along, or i just don't feel like it, or i'm tired or...... Kinda like Lassie, without the ass-licking.

5) I can almost always find something to like about every person. This skill came in handy at work when i managed people. Sometimes i really had to work at this, but i could usually manage it.

6) Ummmm. (This is hard. I feel like i should be apologizing for saying good things about myself. I want to argue with me and tell you why i'm really not very nice.) I will protect and comfort any animal or child in my sphere who needs it, not just mine. Well, except for the ones i eat.

7) I like my breasts. Not too big, not too small. Not falling. No, i will not post a picture. There are plenty of much nicer tits on the internet for you to see.


8) I take responsibility for my stuff. This is a big deal because where i grew up, fault was a BIG HUGE HAIRY deal. We would sell each other out in a heartbeat in order not to have it be our fault. Endless argument would go into who's fault it was. Let it go. Don't miss it. (Sometimes i have to remind myself that it doesn't matter, but still.)

9) I work hard to try and keep my body working and in shape. I know that i need to exercise in order to keep my mind on an even keel as well. I could always do more of course, but i do pretty well.

10) When i really think something is funny, i will burst out in noisy laughter. It's a nice noise.



I am a beautiful and unique flower who blooms where i am planted.

I just had to go and cheapen it didn't i?

Unburied

"Oh, Ouch!" i will blurt out as we are driving somewhere in the car.
"Where are we going?" i will ask when we are watching a movie at home.
"Man?" i will query when Em and i are walking together.

These outbursts come from inside me when i am remembering something that pains me, or i am musing about something unhappy that might happen.

"What's wrong?" Em or the Mister will ask, "Are you hurt?"

No, not physically. I try to find a way to deny what i have said, or to pretend that i was asking about something real.

It used to be that i only did this while i was alone. Now i am likely to do it in the company of others, which puzzles them and embarrasses me.

Is my filter broken?

Maybe we should move

Back home safely and all is well with the cats and the house. Grey Cat and Brown Cat are following me around and are both trying to sit in my lap at once.

Here are a few pictures:

We walked 3 or so miles down the beach on the second day we were there. In the rain. With no shoes. It was awesome. At least these pelicans thought so:
I love this color:

The Mister and i discussed buying this fixer-upper. Everything else was too expensive:

Pretty color:

There were lots of civil engineers and architects at the beach. I love going up to kids and asking them if i can take a picture of their masterpiece. They love it. These kids had spent hours making this beauty and were just realizing that the tide was indeed going to come in. They were going to build a little sand wall around it to protect it. As if.

Just a peek out at the waves for anyone who misses the ocean.

There were pelicans everywhere. They are so prehistoric looking. This group was diving into a fish ball that was just offshore. You can see the pink pouch where the one bird is swallowing something:

I got up this morning a bit early so i could go for a last walk out on the beach. The Pacific is damn cold this far north, but i spent half an hour wading around getting the bottom of my shorts wet. I wanted to take some of the salt water smell home with me.
I am both happy to be home and sad to be away from the beach. Tomorrow i have a hike planned to console myself. I love summer.

More traveling

The Mister's pile of laundry, week 2.

Heading off to Cannon Beach on vacation tomorrow. There will be pictures as it is one of the most beautiful places in the world.

I've got sunscreen and dental floss, what else could i possibly need?

In case you were wondering

Where to start? Let's see...

It has come to my attention that children (most children anyway) act better with strangers than they do with their family.

I remember sending Em off to spend the night elsewhere when she was younger, and hoping that she would not have one of "Those Moments" while she was there.

Invariably, i would hear from the elsewhere parents that "She was great. A real pleasure to have around."

We will be at a restaurant and Em will be hissing angrily at me about some injustice done to her person. The waitron will come by and fill up her water glass or some such. "Thank you," she will say very sweetly, and then go back to hissing at me.

WTF?

I suppose it's all because she feels comfortable with my love or something, but i wouldn't mind a whole weekend of her "company behavior."

I was talking about this with her yesterday and i asked her why she thought this happened. She thought about it for a few moments and said, "Those other people never yell at me for anything, and i don't really care if they like me, so it's easy to be polite. I care what you think of me and i get all emo if i think you are disappointed in me."

There you have it.