After that long rambling post below, I thought a few pictures of Grayson joyfully celebrating the snow would be welcome.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Joy of Snow
After that long rambling post below, I thought a few pictures of Grayson joyfully celebrating the snow would be welcome.
I'll take a rain check on that Break Up...
Okay, I spoke too soon.
True, I did TRY to break up with Biff this week.
Tuesday I got wind of yet another dust-up between him and his ex in Tulsa. It's an ongoing saga and it makes me nuts. She's always doing something obnoxious or thoughtless or both, and he's always all up in her life, letting her pull his strings to get whatever it is she wants from him: advice, sympathy, attention, or, as I suspect is mainly the thing, assurance that she still has control over him.
Look, I'm a girl. I know exactly how girls play this game. You keep your ex stringing along by a number of means, for whatever reason. You want to be sure you have power, or you want a fall-back option, or you can't stand to let someone else have him or WHATEVER. You find ways to maintain contact and you keep pulling the threads to make sure your hooks are still in. It's a nasty game, but we've all played it. I hated seeing him dancing on her string. He would tell me over and over he didn't want her back, it was his choice to end it... and then she'd tug one of those strings and he was all wound up about her again, and I'd have to hear the sob story.
This time I didn't even want to hear about it. I've been separated from Gray for less than a quarter of the time he's been separated from Renee, and I'm not anywhere near as wrapped around my axel over it as he is. I don't get it. I hurts me every time I hear him moaning and groaning about how painful the aftermath of the breakup is. It was his choice, for god's sake, and it was a year ago.
So I composed and sent an elegant message, regretfully informing him that he was still too embroiled in his past it's hurting me and I need someone who was ready to move forward without looking back... etc. etc.
Later that day I got an instant message from him that "you are ready, apparently I am not." I told him to contact me if he got himself squared away.
Wednesday morning I took him off my list of Facebook friends because I didn't want to have to see his updates all the time. So I sent him an email telling him why, and that I wasn't doing it to be vindictive, just to spare myself a certain amount of torture. (This is only partly true because, even though I'd removed him as a friend, his facebook profile was still open and accessible, so I found myself checking it all the time anyway. Pathetically)
Wednesday sucked. I just moped around, brooding. I took Grayson sledding, which was a welcome break, and in the afternoon I got an email from Biff. He explained that this last brush with Renee "ended it," and he told her to stop all contact. He's also made plans to get all his stuff back from her house and has severed his business relations with her. I sat there and stared at that email for a long time, trying to decide what to do. I started to write a response. Stopped. Started. Stopped.
By 7:15 I had cratered and sent him an IM, telling him I don't like not being in touch with him, blah blah blah. So he called and we basically made it up. It's provisional, in my mind, dependent upon how well he really is able to cut the cord from Renee. But for now, after a long shitty 24 hours of missing him and feeling rotten about it, I admit it... I'm glad I don't have to give him up right now.
I know, I know... I'm such a girl. It doesn't change much, this dance. It's the same at 42 as it was at 17, apparently.
True, I did TRY to break up with Biff this week.
Tuesday I got wind of yet another dust-up between him and his ex in Tulsa. It's an ongoing saga and it makes me nuts. She's always doing something obnoxious or thoughtless or both, and he's always all up in her life, letting her pull his strings to get whatever it is she wants from him: advice, sympathy, attention, or, as I suspect is mainly the thing, assurance that she still has control over him.
Look, I'm a girl. I know exactly how girls play this game. You keep your ex stringing along by a number of means, for whatever reason. You want to be sure you have power, or you want a fall-back option, or you can't stand to let someone else have him or WHATEVER. You find ways to maintain contact and you keep pulling the threads to make sure your hooks are still in. It's a nasty game, but we've all played it. I hated seeing him dancing on her string. He would tell me over and over he didn't want her back, it was his choice to end it... and then she'd tug one of those strings and he was all wound up about her again, and I'd have to hear the sob story.
This time I didn't even want to hear about it. I've been separated from Gray for less than a quarter of the time he's been separated from Renee, and I'm not anywhere near as wrapped around my axel over it as he is. I don't get it. I hurts me every time I hear him moaning and groaning about how painful the aftermath of the breakup is. It was his choice, for god's sake, and it was a year ago.
So I composed and sent an elegant message, regretfully informing him that he was still too embroiled in his past it's hurting me and I need someone who was ready to move forward without looking back... etc. etc.
Later that day I got an instant message from him that "you are ready, apparently I am not." I told him to contact me if he got himself squared away.
Wednesday morning I took him off my list of Facebook friends because I didn't want to have to see his updates all the time. So I sent him an email telling him why, and that I wasn't doing it to be vindictive, just to spare myself a certain amount of torture. (This is only partly true because, even though I'd removed him as a friend, his facebook profile was still open and accessible, so I found myself checking it all the time anyway. Pathetically)
Wednesday sucked. I just moped around, brooding. I took Grayson sledding, which was a welcome break, and in the afternoon I got an email from Biff. He explained that this last brush with Renee "ended it," and he told her to stop all contact. He's also made plans to get all his stuff back from her house and has severed his business relations with her. I sat there and stared at that email for a long time, trying to decide what to do. I started to write a response. Stopped. Started. Stopped.
By 7:15 I had cratered and sent him an IM, telling him I don't like not being in touch with him, blah blah blah. So he called and we basically made it up. It's provisional, in my mind, dependent upon how well he really is able to cut the cord from Renee. But for now, after a long shitty 24 hours of missing him and feeling rotten about it, I admit it... I'm glad I don't have to give him up right now.
I know, I know... I'm such a girl. It doesn't change much, this dance. It's the same at 42 as it was at 17, apparently.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Ice Arrest and a Pack of Piglets
I was up before dawn this morning, my mind clipping along like it had something useful to do. I was thinking of the animal characters for the children's books Laurie proposed yesterday. A coyote named Yip. A box turtle, a gecko...
I finally admitted that I was awake, so I got up and made coffee.
The sidewalks and roads are a solid sheet of ice. I will not be driving to the museum this morning, that's for sure.
I was remembering animal stories from my days as a vet tech, too. Like the time we had to draw blood from a whole litter of pot-bellied piglets.
There are few things cuter or funnier than a piglet. Or louder. Some pot-bellied pig breeder brought in a whole litter to be checked out before they could be sold, and we had to get blood from each of them. I think there were four or five. They were cute as hell: just a little bigger than a football, black and prickly, with these incredibly cute, soft wet snouts. They make adorable grunting sounds, they snuffle at your clothes, and root around in your armpit while you're carrying them. They are perfectly friendly, docile little things as we bring them into the treatment room.
Now, to draw blood from a pig, you go in through a vein on the side of the belly, rather than through a foreleg like you do in a dog or cat. You can also get blood from a vein in the ear, if I recall correctly.
Well here's the thing about piglets. They are cute and adorable as long as you make no effort whatsoever to restrain them. But the moment you do, they begin to SQUEEEEEL like a pig. It sounds like this:
RRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE! RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! RRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!
They also most strenuously object to having a needle jabbed into their side, and thrash wildly. So we have two technicians trying to hold one of these piglets down so the doctor can draw blood. The thing is going nuts, scrabbling its little hooves on the treatment table and screaming bloody murder. You can hear it all over the clinic.
So Wally, the head doctor, wigs out and makes us march the piglets back into the Xray room at the back of the clinic so the sound won't carry as far. We put one on the xray table and start again:
RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE RRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEE!
Now the instant we stop restraining it, the little piglet hops up on its trotters and goes back to making contented little snorting, grunting sounds. This gives us a bit of a breather in between screaming sessions...
We put a towel over it to muffle the sound. Now we have three techs and two doctors in this tiny xray room. Someone said "It squeals like a pig." And it was all downhill from there. The techs all got the giggles and we started making pig jokes and cracking ourselves up. "Don't hog up all the space," or "This one is a ham." And every bad joke got us giggling more than the one before.
Wally's having a coniption fit. "God dammit! Hold it! Hold it! Do your fucking job" He's calling us all sorts of names. Now we have four technicians and two doctors. And we are still working on the first pig. We still have no blood sample.
At last we all calmed down enough... probably due to Wally threatening to fire all of us... to get organized. Four techs and a doctor hold each piglet down. Remember, this is an animal the size of a football. Then Wally, swearing the whole time, whips in and draws the blood. The piglet is SCREAMING throughout this entire operation. It sounds like we are rending each of them limb from limb.
When all the pigets are done, we get a grip on ourselves, and carry the container of piglets back out to the waiting room. Everyone there looks white as a sheet. I'm sure they think we've been torturing those poor piglets.
That's my story for the day.
If we can get our car out today, which seems doubtful, we'll take Grayson's sled to the park. Otherwise, looks like we're on Ice Arrest.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Synchronicity
So this morning Laurie Vitt, curator of reptiles, comes into my office and suggests we work together to create a series of children’s books featuring animals in natural environments. This when just yesterday I was saying I needed to find a way to use my wrting… synchronicity? Karma?
We’ll see if he ever really gets serious about it, but I’m definitely up for the project. Maybe I could write a dinosaur series with Rich Cifelli while we’re at it.
This afternoon: ice. Freezing rain, actually. But the drive up from Norman (at noon because they closed the university at 1:30) was excruciatingly slow. Glacier, in fact. Picture a line of cars 15 miles long, moving like an enormous slug at less than 5 miles an hour. At least I didn’t have to worry about sliding on the ice. I never got moving fast enough. It took me over an hour to get back to the city.
I picked up Grayson at school (a process involving yet another long line of slow-moving cars), and by the time we got home, Gray had received a message from the district saying that school has been cancelled tomorrow. So G and I will be kickin' it together tomorrow: hot chocolate, books, snacks and cartoons allllll day. I should be stark raving mad by 5:00.
I am hereby embarking once again upon a course of self-improvement. After an unspecified, and best not closely inspected period of hard drinking, I have decided it is necessary to cut back my wine consumption to human levels again If not for the health concerns, or the weight concerns, I need to do it for the cost. Hell, I could save more than $100 a month if I would just quit buying wine. 'Course, I have no intention of quitting buying wine... but cutting back would be a good thing.
So that’s step one. Step two is getting my workouts on schedule. That should be fairly easy to do, with the gym there at the apartments in addition to the YMCA. I am hereby reinstating Bikini Day. Erk. (For those who are unfamiliar with it, Bikini Day was, in my personal long-standing tradition, May 1, or, The-Day-You-Go-Try-On-Bikinis-Even-If-Your-Body-Is-Not-Ready-For-It.)
Step three: Eating healthy. I am going to do some cooking each Grayson-weekend so I’ll always have stuff in the freezer, and I’m going to make more of an effort to feed myself and my son real meals with real food. Think: vegetables. You know, green stuff.
Step four: Unplug. I need to stop checking facebook every 15 minutes and hovering over my various messaging devices. It might be okay for me to be out of touch for a few minutes. (This from the woman who used to forget to turn her phone on for days at a time.)
Step five: Write, practice, read, go, do, see, etc.
Step six: Girlfriends. More of them and more time with them.
There, I'm done resolving for the day.
We’ll see if he ever really gets serious about it, but I’m definitely up for the project. Maybe I could write a dinosaur series with Rich Cifelli while we’re at it.
This afternoon: ice. Freezing rain, actually. But the drive up from Norman (at noon because they closed the university at 1:30) was excruciatingly slow. Glacier, in fact. Picture a line of cars 15 miles long, moving like an enormous slug at less than 5 miles an hour. At least I didn’t have to worry about sliding on the ice. I never got moving fast enough. It took me over an hour to get back to the city.
I picked up Grayson at school (a process involving yet another long line of slow-moving cars), and by the time we got home, Gray had received a message from the district saying that school has been cancelled tomorrow. So G and I will be kickin' it together tomorrow: hot chocolate, books, snacks and cartoons allllll day. I should be stark raving mad by 5:00.
I am hereby embarking once again upon a course of self-improvement. After an unspecified, and best not closely inspected period of hard drinking, I have decided it is necessary to cut back my wine consumption to human levels again If not for the health concerns, or the weight concerns, I need to do it for the cost. Hell, I could save more than $100 a month if I would just quit buying wine. 'Course, I have no intention of quitting buying wine... but cutting back would be a good thing.
So that’s step one. Step two is getting my workouts on schedule. That should be fairly easy to do, with the gym there at the apartments in addition to the YMCA. I am hereby reinstating Bikini Day. Erk. (For those who are unfamiliar with it, Bikini Day was, in my personal long-standing tradition, May 1, or, The-Day-You-Go-Try-On-Bikinis-Even-If-Your-Body-Is-Not-Ready-For-It.)
Step three: Eating healthy. I am going to do some cooking each Grayson-weekend so I’ll always have stuff in the freezer, and I’m going to make more of an effort to feed myself and my son real meals with real food. Think: vegetables. You know, green stuff.
Step four: Unplug. I need to stop checking facebook every 15 minutes and hovering over my various messaging devices. It might be okay for me to be out of touch for a few minutes. (This from the woman who used to forget to turn her phone on for days at a time.)
Step five: Write, practice, read, go, do, see, etc.
Step six: Girlfriends. More of them and more time with them.
There, I'm done resolving for the day.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Saturday night and Sunday morning
I am unbelievably lazy today. A third night of hard drink and hard play left me pretty much useless. I might get up to make some dinner later on. Or not.
I hadn't seen Biff in two weeks. It's a long time. I felt almost like I had to get to know him again when we met at the bar. But we spend many contented hours drinking beer and talking. I enjoy spending time with him. I just wish I could do it more regularly.
Just as we were tabbing out, a group of girls from the museum arrived and joined us, so we stuck around for another hour or more, jawing with them. It was fun to watch Biff interact with my friends, and they with him. We get a little more comfortable together each time.
I told Biff how I've been thinking lately that it may be time for a change. I don't really feel a need to leave the museum, but I think I need to find something else to do. I'm in a real rut at work, and everything is rote. I need something new and interesting to get me jazzed up again. He told me I should find a way to use my writing. This seems obvious, but some of the suggestions he made were good ones. He said I can just go seeking experiences and writing about them... that people will be interested in my perspectives on seeing or doing things for the first time. At the very least I should look carefully at my Writers Market again and think about which publications I might have something to offer to.
Tonight I have reading to do. I went around and gathered up all the books I have that I haven't read yet and stacked them up in one big pile . There are 12. Guess I need to get to work.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The Power of Friendship
Last night's Girls Night was a great success. We had a good sized group, and we drank copious swirls and talked too loud and laughed and carried on in a fashion most unbecoming. It was a lot of fun.
I've said it before, but I am so glad of these great friends.
This great crazy blind guy came over and joined us with this seeing-eye poodle "Gippy," bought me a Soco and lime, had his picture taken with me and then split. The world is full of characters.
And here's what a dork I am, after Jin took the picture I turned to him and said "You want to see it?" And he just laughed and said "I'm a blind guy!" And we all cracked up.
Yeah, I'm cool. Can you tell in this picture that I'm drunk?
After we got booted out of the Pit at the Mont, Jin gathered me up and took me with her and Kirk to the opening at the Fred Jones. White wine and arts patrons. I might have been a little toasty to make a particularly good showing in that company. But we had a good time.
We went back to her place to pour me full of espresso and give me time to sober up a bit before I hit the road home. I got here safely, not too drunk, and in one piece.
Today I have to hit the gym in penance. And in pre-penance for all the red wine I'm likely to drink in Biff's company tonight. Haven't seen him in a couple of weeks, though not for lack of trying on my part last weekend, when all my best laid plans fell to dust. I don't think it's that he's not interested... when he's there he's all there. But he's definitely keeping a safety zone around himself. I guess it's more my peculiarity than his. Safety has never been my middle name. I tend to just jump in there and go for it, damn the torpedos and all that. Most sensible people are more careful in their relationships. You'd think I'd learn, I guess. Today at least, it doesn't bother me. Next weekend, it could be another whole story and I could be crazy with doubt and anxiety. Ah, the perilous and uncharted waters of relationships...
On a completely unrelated subject, Gray tells me that there are is a couple taking the house fairly seriously this weekend. I guess they came to see it Friday and are coming back tomorrow. There was another couple from Indiana who looked at it this week, but our realtor said they had an upper purchase range under what we're asking. He's going to call both couples' realtors this weekend and see if he can play them off one another to encourage an offer.
I'm glad the house has had as much activity as it has. I mean, at least people are looking, though we've had no offers. There in the first week or two, I was discouraged because nobody looked at all. I'm hoping it will begin to pick up now that we're headed toward Spring and Obama's in the whitehouse. :) Surely the atmosphere of hope and excitement will wash over into the real estate market?
Friday, January 23, 2009
Perspectives
I was just reading over my last sad, pitiful bored entry, then I went and looked at Debby Kaspari's blog, Drawing the Motmot. If you haven't checked it out, you should.
Debby is a scientific illustrator and an amazing artist who does lots of work for the museum. She just returned from a trip to the Amazon where she did a lot of painting and drawing, took a lot of photographs and video, all for an exhibit that will open in the fall here at the museum. Her blog is documenting the trip with beautiful photos, wonderful paintings and sketches, and Debby's lovely, easy prose. It's a great read.
Anyway, I look at that and I think, "Now THAT's what I want to be doing: drawing birds in the Amazonian canopy!" Surely there's some way to parlay my writing and my museum connections into trips to the furthest reaches of the planet to blog about my experience.
Tonight a group of the "Ladies of the Sam" and I are going out to toast my re-entry into singledom. It should be a lively bunch. I'm looking forward to the company and the laughs. This is my Grayson-free weekend, which I relish for the ability to do whatever I want, but I am also always a bit fearful that there won't be anything TO do. Especially not as broke as I am. Having a girl's night will be great. I'm sure there will be plenty of man-bashing.
In other news: the Oklahoma Magazine "Single in the City" feature came out yesterday. Here's a link to it online: http://www.okmag.com/index.cfm?id=13&homepageID=73
I don't look too goofy, but I don't look like a supermodel, either. Guess I can't ask for miracles. I can't decide yet if it makes me feel good or dorky. Maybe a little of each. Gray will be horrified, of course. So that's a mark on the Plus side.
The downside is that the auction event is set for March 5, which just so happens to correspond with the date of the Bonnie Raitt concert at Riverwind. I would have loved to have gone, but now it's not possible. Ah well, it's a good cause.
This morning, on a completely different subject, I was delighted to open the newspaper to find that Obama signed an executive order closing Guantanamo by the end of a year. He also closed the "black" CIA prisons, and reaffirmed that Americans will cease all torture methods such as waterboarding and will conform to the Geneva Conventions. Thank God. We are no longer the world's Gestapo. I read elsewhere that he has frozen U.S. government employees' salaries if they make more than $100,000. Nice. So far, so good. He steps out boldly. I hope he can get as much done with this early momentum as possible. I'm sure the right-wing nutjobs will be after him soon enough.
Debby is a scientific illustrator and an amazing artist who does lots of work for the museum. She just returned from a trip to the Amazon where she did a lot of painting and drawing, took a lot of photographs and video, all for an exhibit that will open in the fall here at the museum. Her blog is documenting the trip with beautiful photos, wonderful paintings and sketches, and Debby's lovely, easy prose. It's a great read.
Anyway, I look at that and I think, "Now THAT's what I want to be doing: drawing birds in the Amazonian canopy!" Surely there's some way to parlay my writing and my museum connections into trips to the furthest reaches of the planet to blog about my experience.
Tonight a group of the "Ladies of the Sam" and I are going out to toast my re-entry into singledom. It should be a lively bunch. I'm looking forward to the company and the laughs. This is my Grayson-free weekend, which I relish for the ability to do whatever I want, but I am also always a bit fearful that there won't be anything TO do. Especially not as broke as I am. Having a girl's night will be great. I'm sure there will be plenty of man-bashing.
In other news: the Oklahoma Magazine "Single in the City" feature came out yesterday. Here's a link to it online: http://www.okmag.com/index.cfm?id=13&homepageID=73
I don't look too goofy, but I don't look like a supermodel, either. Guess I can't ask for miracles. I can't decide yet if it makes me feel good or dorky. Maybe a little of each. Gray will be horrified, of course. So that's a mark on the Plus side.
The downside is that the auction event is set for March 5, which just so happens to correspond with the date of the Bonnie Raitt concert at Riverwind. I would have loved to have gone, but now it's not possible. Ah well, it's a good cause.
This morning, on a completely different subject, I was delighted to open the newspaper to find that Obama signed an executive order closing Guantanamo by the end of a year. He also closed the "black" CIA prisons, and reaffirmed that Americans will cease all torture methods such as waterboarding and will conform to the Geneva Conventions. Thank God. We are no longer the world's Gestapo. I read elsewhere that he has frozen U.S. government employees' salaries if they make more than $100,000. Nice. So far, so good. He steps out boldly. I hope he can get as much done with this early momentum as possible. I'm sure the right-wing nutjobs will be after him soon enough.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Boredom and its Consequences
I figured out what's wrong with me.
I'm bored.
I am desperately, deeply and intensely bored. I feel like I have nothing to do, nothing to contribute, no past-times, no purpose. I just plod along, doing what is necessary without feeding my spirit in any way. I do nothing.
I have no interests, no hobbies, no passions. Aren't people supposed to have something they love to do? Some cause or activity they care about? I don't. I can't think of any. I'm just doing clean time.
I try different things. I make mosaics, pick up the guitar, read, journal, blog, watch movies, work out, go to the wildlife refuge and walk around. But none of it feels meaningful for me at all. I'm just filling up the hours.
All I can think of to combat it is to keep on trying things, see if something sticks. But so far, nothing seems to hold my interest. Nothing speaks to me.
I wonder if this is part of a new and exciting period of depression I'm entering into? That's just what I need. Again, activity is the only way to keep it at bay, if that's what is happening. But I fairly quickly run out of things to do to keep me busy.
Maybe I'm just the most boring person alive.
I'm bored.
I am desperately, deeply and intensely bored. I feel like I have nothing to do, nothing to contribute, no past-times, no purpose. I just plod along, doing what is necessary without feeding my spirit in any way. I do nothing.
I have no interests, no hobbies, no passions. Aren't people supposed to have something they love to do? Some cause or activity they care about? I don't. I can't think of any. I'm just doing clean time.
I try different things. I make mosaics, pick up the guitar, read, journal, blog, watch movies, work out, go to the wildlife refuge and walk around. But none of it feels meaningful for me at all. I'm just filling up the hours.
All I can think of to combat it is to keep on trying things, see if something sticks. But so far, nothing seems to hold my interest. Nothing speaks to me.
I wonder if this is part of a new and exciting period of depression I'm entering into? That's just what I need. Again, activity is the only way to keep it at bay, if that's what is happening. But I fairly quickly run out of things to do to keep me busy.
Maybe I'm just the most boring person alive.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I'm an Obama Mama
The museum director had the inauguration streamed in to the museum's auditorium this morning so we could all go down and watch. It was fun because the museum crowd is universally so very far left of center that it was like being at an Obama Watch Party. We cheered when he appeared, booed the sulky, petulant face of George W., cheered again when Obama took the oath, and laughed at the fabulous ending to Rev. Joseph Lowery's Benediction prayer... surely one unlike any other that has ever been spoken at a presidential inauguration.
"Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around...when yellow will be mellow...when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right. That all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen."
AUDIENCE: Amen.
LOWERY: Say Amen!
AUDIENCE: Amen!
LOWERY: And Amen.
AUDIENCE: Amen.
That's what I'm talkin' about!
Me, I cried through the whole damned thing. It is so good to have someone in office who I can believe in.
A friend brought it to my attention early this afternoon that the new Whitehouse.gov web page was up: "Change has come to America." Ohhh, yeah. We gonna shake some shit UP.
I feel honor-bound to join the new and improved Americorps and give back as President Obama has encouraged and exhorted me to do. Things feel hopeful.
I'm on my way to an after-party at Galileo's club in Paseo, where I can be sure of some pinko, lefty liberal artists to hang out and celebrate with. After their Cub Scout meeting, Gray will bring Grayson there for the kid hand-off, and we plan on hoisting a cold one together to toast the new World Order.... It's nice that we can do that. Strange, in a way, that it feels so comfortable, as if we have been not-married for much, much longer than we really have. Years.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Playmates and the Lack Thereof.
Grayson has made friends with the little boy who lives downstairs. His name is Ethan, and he's about a 4 or 5-year-old ball of energy in a Power Rangers helmet. Grayson is delighted to have a friend nearby, even if it's a little kid. They're out this late afternoon, running around, making laser noises.
Ethan also has Hulk Fists. And an older sister who is primarily interested in drawing with chalk on the sidewalk.
Having a friend to play with ... three, actually, because there were some other kids he was playing with last weekend... makes all the difference in how Grayson feels about living here. He told me yesterday he wants to live in the apartment FOREVER.
I'm glad he doesn't miss the old house. I sure don't.
We had another open house today. I saw one car there at 2. Gray said he saw three cars when he went by. So the place is getting good traffic. No offers yet. It's frustrating.
Speaking of getting no offers. Gray is on Match.com and not having the best luck with it so far. He is not getting a lot of response to his emails and winks. Is it evil of me to enjoy this? I actually edited his profile for him this morning because he tends to blather on and on when he writes. But I do take a sort of evil pleasure in watching him discover that it's not easy. I don't know why. It's to my advantage to have him busy and happy. But it vindicates me in some small way.
This weekend was, frankly, a bit of a drag. My Friday Story Slam partners bailed. Saturday Biff was at an all-night party. I was supposed to make dinner for him tonight and he bailed because he's in recovery from the night before (though we did have an entertaining text message conversation at 2:30 a.m.). So I had hoped we'd get together tomorrow, but he's driving to Tulsa to get his car. This is a good thing, because it's one of the many steps of retrieving his life from his ex that need to happen before he can get On with it. But it's still another small straw in the camel load of my weekend.
I guess I need to just fully dedicate myself to Grayson stuff on my G weekends. It's frustrating because Gray, who doesn't have G all week, is always able to pop off for an after-work drink or Thursday night party. While I have only my alternate weekends. So I feel a little desperate to cram as much grown-up fun into them as possible. Unfortunately, the rest of the world does not always see my entertainment as its priority. And oddly, most of my friends now live in Norman.
Speaking of... I'm under a certain amount of pressure to move to Norman when the time comes (assuming the time will come) to buy a house. Jin is leading the charge, but my folks are not far behind, and there are others. I just don't relish the idea of moving out of the city. Norman kind of bores me. And I grew up there. I dunno. I just can't get behind the idea.
I needn't worry about it just yet. Lord knows it will be fall before I'm in any position to go house shopping. I'm content to stay here through the summer and let G swim and play. Hell, maybe I'll never buy a house, just rent apartments forever. Fuck it.
Ethan also has Hulk Fists. And an older sister who is primarily interested in drawing with chalk on the sidewalk.
Having a friend to play with ... three, actually, because there were some other kids he was playing with last weekend... makes all the difference in how Grayson feels about living here. He told me yesterday he wants to live in the apartment FOREVER.
I'm glad he doesn't miss the old house. I sure don't.
We had another open house today. I saw one car there at 2. Gray said he saw three cars when he went by. So the place is getting good traffic. No offers yet. It's frustrating.
Speaking of getting no offers. Gray is on Match.com and not having the best luck with it so far. He is not getting a lot of response to his emails and winks. Is it evil of me to enjoy this? I actually edited his profile for him this morning because he tends to blather on and on when he writes. But I do take a sort of evil pleasure in watching him discover that it's not easy. I don't know why. It's to my advantage to have him busy and happy. But it vindicates me in some small way.
This weekend was, frankly, a bit of a drag. My Friday Story Slam partners bailed. Saturday Biff was at an all-night party. I was supposed to make dinner for him tonight and he bailed because he's in recovery from the night before (though we did have an entertaining text message conversation at 2:30 a.m.). So I had hoped we'd get together tomorrow, but he's driving to Tulsa to get his car. This is a good thing, because it's one of the many steps of retrieving his life from his ex that need to happen before he can get On with it. But it's still another small straw in the camel load of my weekend.
I guess I need to just fully dedicate myself to Grayson stuff on my G weekends. It's frustrating because Gray, who doesn't have G all week, is always able to pop off for an after-work drink or Thursday night party. While I have only my alternate weekends. So I feel a little desperate to cram as much grown-up fun into them as possible. Unfortunately, the rest of the world does not always see my entertainment as its priority. And oddly, most of my friends now live in Norman.
Speaking of... I'm under a certain amount of pressure to move to Norman when the time comes (assuming the time will come) to buy a house. Jin is leading the charge, but my folks are not far behind, and there are others. I just don't relish the idea of moving out of the city. Norman kind of bores me. And I grew up there. I dunno. I just can't get behind the idea.
I needn't worry about it just yet. Lord knows it will be fall before I'm in any position to go house shopping. I'm content to stay here through the summer and let G swim and play. Hell, maybe I'll never buy a house, just rent apartments forever. Fuck it.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
In Which I am Running a Halfway House for Ex Husbands
So my divorce was final on Wednesday afternoon. On Thursday afternoon I learn from Gray that the heat is out upstairs at the house, and on Thursday evening that the heat and electricity is out downstairs, as well. It's 35 degrees in the house.
Well what could I do? Let the man freeze?
So I told him he could come here and sleep on the couch. Less than 36 hours after the divorce and my ex is sleeping at my house. Sigh.
My friends all find this wildly funny, of course. Me less so. I just want my own space. I want not to have to see his face every day for awhile. I am not bitter toward Gray, but there's been rather a lot of him lately.
Yesterday he had the heating and air guy and the electrician over to take a look. The heating guy said it was an electrical issue. The electrician jerry-rigged something so he'd have heat downstairs for the night, and is due to return today to do the job right. I've no idea how much it will cost, but whatever it is, I'll owe 40% of it.
I have managed thus far NOT to mention to Gray that this was exactly why we had set aside some money in a savings account before I left... to pay for things like this. The very same savings account, in fact, that he cleaned out in December to visit his Wow girl. No, I have not mentioned that to him.
Yesterday stunk for a variety of reasons. Not least of which was the fact that my plans to take a group of friends to Story Slam fell through completely. So I ended up watching Cabaret, drinking way too much wine, and firing off random text messages to Biff. I was having a little trouble reconciling myself to a quiet evening at home.
Tonight, however, I am girding my loins to face an evening full of kids. I told Grayson he could have a friend for a sleepover tonight if he wanted to, and I am prepared to be the Koolaid Mom. In the meantime, I am frantically trying to finish my book club book by Friday.
Well what could I do? Let the man freeze?
So I told him he could come here and sleep on the couch. Less than 36 hours after the divorce and my ex is sleeping at my house. Sigh.
My friends all find this wildly funny, of course. Me less so. I just want my own space. I want not to have to see his face every day for awhile. I am not bitter toward Gray, but there's been rather a lot of him lately.
Yesterday he had the heating and air guy and the electrician over to take a look. The heating guy said it was an electrical issue. The electrician jerry-rigged something so he'd have heat downstairs for the night, and is due to return today to do the job right. I've no idea how much it will cost, but whatever it is, I'll owe 40% of it.
I have managed thus far NOT to mention to Gray that this was exactly why we had set aside some money in a savings account before I left... to pay for things like this. The very same savings account, in fact, that he cleaned out in December to visit his Wow girl. No, I have not mentioned that to him.
Yesterday stunk for a variety of reasons. Not least of which was the fact that my plans to take a group of friends to Story Slam fell through completely. So I ended up watching Cabaret, drinking way too much wine, and firing off random text messages to Biff. I was having a little trouble reconciling myself to a quiet evening at home.
Tonight, however, I am girding my loins to face an evening full of kids. I told Grayson he could have a friend for a sleepover tonight if he wanted to, and I am prepared to be the Koolaid Mom. In the meantime, I am frantically trying to finish my book club book by Friday.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Let the Wild Rumpus Start
Back in the saddle today at work. Feeling healthier than I have in over a week, though still hacking up the occasional chunk of lung. Also feeling good about the future.
I'm a single woman now, so everyone is asking me when the party starts. The answer is... February. I'm stoopid poor right now, having somewhat shot my financial wad on Christmas and then grievously mismanaged what was left. At least I have the excuse of distraction and insanity for how screwed up I got my finances, but it's cold comfort when I'm missing all these opportunities for wild abandon.
In truth, there's a group of girls from the museum taking me out next Friday. I sent out an email telling everyone I was officially divorced and asking if they'd care to join me in celebration at the Mont next week. The response, I am pleased to say, was overwhelming. Either everyone really needed an excuse to go out for a drink, or the prospect of a girls night of man-bashing is just too good to miss. Either that or they just want to see me get drunk and stupid. We've reserved the Pit at the Mont, and should be a large and unruly bunch by 6 p.m.
Anyway, I want to thank all my amazing friends who sent me text messages, emails and phone calls with positive vibes and much love yesterday. It meant so much to me to realize that I was not alone in taking this enormous life-changing step. My friends were right behind me, watching the clock, knowing where I was and what was happening. Wishing me well. Thanks, all. Thanks and thanks and thanks.
I'm a single woman now, so everyone is asking me when the party starts. The answer is... February. I'm stoopid poor right now, having somewhat shot my financial wad on Christmas and then grievously mismanaged what was left. At least I have the excuse of distraction and insanity for how screwed up I got my finances, but it's cold comfort when I'm missing all these opportunities for wild abandon.
In truth, there's a group of girls from the museum taking me out next Friday. I sent out an email telling everyone I was officially divorced and asking if they'd care to join me in celebration at the Mont next week. The response, I am pleased to say, was overwhelming. Either everyone really needed an excuse to go out for a drink, or the prospect of a girls night of man-bashing is just too good to miss. Either that or they just want to see me get drunk and stupid. We've reserved the Pit at the Mont, and should be a large and unruly bunch by 6 p.m.
Anyway, I want to thank all my amazing friends who sent me text messages, emails and phone calls with positive vibes and much love yesterday. It meant so much to me to realize that I was not alone in taking this enormous life-changing step. My friends were right behind me, watching the clock, knowing where I was and what was happening. Wishing me well. Thanks, all. Thanks and thanks and thanks.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I am Officially Single
D Day.
Actually, it was kind of anticlimactic. It primarily involved clicking around the Oklahoma City courthouse in my heels behind my lawyer, shuttling papers from Clerk's office to courtroom and back. The granting of the divorce itself took less than three minutes.
"For the sake of your child, I commend you both for negotiating this," she said. "Dissolution of marriage granted. Have a good day."
Dissolution of marriage granted.
Have a nice day.
Then more paper shuttling. Stamp. Stamp. Stamp. Shuffle. And we were done. I'm divorced. I have a big folder of papers to prove it, too.
I still felt like a wrung-out rag when it was over. So I went to the Mantle and indulged in seafood linguine and overpriced wine, then came home and crashed on the sofa until it was time to go get Grayson from SPARK.
Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
Actually, it was kind of anticlimactic. It primarily involved clicking around the Oklahoma City courthouse in my heels behind my lawyer, shuttling papers from Clerk's office to courtroom and back. The granting of the divorce itself took less than three minutes.
"For the sake of your child, I commend you both for negotiating this," she said. "Dissolution of marriage granted. Have a good day."
Dissolution of marriage granted.
Have a nice day.
Then more paper shuttling. Stamp. Stamp. Stamp. Shuffle. And we were done. I'm divorced. I have a big folder of papers to prove it, too.
I still felt like a wrung-out rag when it was over. So I went to the Mantle and indulged in seafood linguine and overpriced wine, then came home and crashed on the sofa until it was time to go get Grayson from SPARK.
Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
In Which I am Deemed Not a Threat to Society
So I went to the doctor this morning. Felt like a damned fool. Of course I tested negative for strep. I'm sure the man thinks I'm a raving hypochondriac.
But no, I was deemed Fit For Service and sent back to work, where I have sat hunched at my desk all day, scowling balefully at my computer screen, in a foul temper.
My temper comes from two sources. One, the illness, which makes me want to close my eyes and put my head on my desk; and Two, the looming divorce proceedings.
I'd describe how I feel about the court appearance tomorrow if I could. I'm not sure exactly what the mix is. Sad, yes, that this is where those heartfelt marriage vows ten years ago have brought me... to standing up in front of a judge, alone, and taking it all back. Hacking it down like a big, noxious weed, this thing that I so lovingly nurtured and believed in.
I don't know if it's sadness exactly, or frustration and anger at the fact that it's going to be ME who has to stand up there and undo the marriage, because Gray was too weak, too wishy washy, too lazy to do it himself. He managed to get me to do this dirty work for him, as he got me to do so much other stuff for him, by simply not managing for himself. Though the divorce was not my idea, it was nevertheless me who had to make the choice, me who had to take action, and me who had to refuse to go back on it when he got too wishy-washy even to stand by his initial decision. I feel like I'm divorcing a spoiled child.
Bah. It's like pulling a bad tooth. I'll feel better when it's over. I'm tired of drifting.
On the upside, I am assembling a group of people to go to StorySlam on Friday night at the Istvan gallery. Some of the "stories" that were told last time were pretty dreadful, but some weren't bad, and I want to support it. I think I've even got a story to tell. So I'm putting together a posse to go out and support storytelling in OKC.
But no, I was deemed Fit For Service and sent back to work, where I have sat hunched at my desk all day, scowling balefully at my computer screen, in a foul temper.
My temper comes from two sources. One, the illness, which makes me want to close my eyes and put my head on my desk; and Two, the looming divorce proceedings.
I'd describe how I feel about the court appearance tomorrow if I could. I'm not sure exactly what the mix is. Sad, yes, that this is where those heartfelt marriage vows ten years ago have brought me... to standing up in front of a judge, alone, and taking it all back. Hacking it down like a big, noxious weed, this thing that I so lovingly nurtured and believed in.
I don't know if it's sadness exactly, or frustration and anger at the fact that it's going to be ME who has to stand up there and undo the marriage, because Gray was too weak, too wishy washy, too lazy to do it himself. He managed to get me to do this dirty work for him, as he got me to do so much other stuff for him, by simply not managing for himself. Though the divorce was not my idea, it was nevertheless me who had to make the choice, me who had to take action, and me who had to refuse to go back on it when he got too wishy-washy even to stand by his initial decision. I feel like I'm divorcing a spoiled child.
Bah. It's like pulling a bad tooth. I'll feel better when it's over. I'm tired of drifting.
On the upside, I am assembling a group of people to go to StorySlam on Friday night at the Istvan gallery. Some of the "stories" that were told last time were pretty dreadful, but some weren't bad, and I want to support it. I think I've even got a story to tell. So I'm putting together a posse to go out and support storytelling in OKC.
Monday, January 12, 2009
T Minus 42 Hours
Gray signed and notarized his part of the divorce papers this afternoon.
I have a court date for 1:30 on Wednesday.
From this moment, I will be married for approximately 42 more hours.
On Wednesday, it will be 4 months and one day after that fateful September 12th confrontation when our marriage came unraveled. Amazing what can happen in a short period of time.
T minus 42 hours and counting...
I have a court date for 1:30 on Wednesday.
From this moment, I will be married for approximately 42 more hours.
On Wednesday, it will be 4 months and one day after that fateful September 12th confrontation when our marriage came unraveled. Amazing what can happen in a short period of time.
T minus 42 hours and counting...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Stinchcomb
Kind of a dull day. STILL not feeling well. Still have no voice.
Went to see The Day the Earth Stood Still last night with Biff. The movie was not so great, but the company was good.
The weather was beautiful again today, so rather than stay in and read or work on Charlie's mosaic like I meant to, I drove out to Stinchcomb Wildlife Refuge to tramp around in the woods for a while.
There are no trails there that I could decipher. Maybe if I was a deer it would have been easier. But the area is nice. Very sandy bottom-land, and looks like a lot of it is flooded some of the time. But it was mostly dry today. A bird haven. I can see why the birders like it so much. There are some great old trees there, and I wished again I had my camera.
But clearly the way to do Stinchcomb is by kayak. The waterways are really great. Still and quiet. So I told myself I'd go rent a kayak and take Grayson out there to paddle about next weekend if the weather is nice. Or maybe I should go myself first, make sure I know my way around a little before I bring G. You can rent a kayak for just $35 a day.
Got to get healthy first. That seems to be my primary challenge right now. I'm still feeling rotten and it's starting to be a drag. I want to be DOING stuff. Not floating around in a haze. I had hoped this week to get my workouts back on schedule, but I'm a dishrag. A voiceless dishrag. The walk at Stinchcomb wiped me out and it wasn't anything.
It's nice to know that there is such a great natural area so close. It's not nearly as managed as Martin Park. I think Grayson will like going there for outings because he can wander around without being confined to a trail. I bet it's a really great place to be when it's green.
Went to see The Day the Earth Stood Still last night with Biff. The movie was not so great, but the company was good.
The weather was beautiful again today, so rather than stay in and read or work on Charlie's mosaic like I meant to, I drove out to Stinchcomb Wildlife Refuge to tramp around in the woods for a while.
There are no trails there that I could decipher. Maybe if I was a deer it would have been easier. But the area is nice. Very sandy bottom-land, and looks like a lot of it is flooded some of the time. But it was mostly dry today. A bird haven. I can see why the birders like it so much. There are some great old trees there, and I wished again I had my camera.
But clearly the way to do Stinchcomb is by kayak. The waterways are really great. Still and quiet. So I told myself I'd go rent a kayak and take Grayson out there to paddle about next weekend if the weather is nice. Or maybe I should go myself first, make sure I know my way around a little before I bring G. You can rent a kayak for just $35 a day.
Got to get healthy first. That seems to be my primary challenge right now. I'm still feeling rotten and it's starting to be a drag. I want to be DOING stuff. Not floating around in a haze. I had hoped this week to get my workouts back on schedule, but I'm a dishrag. A voiceless dishrag. The walk at Stinchcomb wiped me out and it wasn't anything.
It's nice to know that there is such a great natural area so close. It's not nearly as managed as Martin Park. I think Grayson will like going there for outings because he can wander around without being confined to a trail. I bet it's a really great place to be when it's green.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Stevie Nicks on Quaaludes
Latest illness development: I sound like Stevie Nicks on quaaludes. My voice is completely shot. When I try to talk I get this bizarre rasping, shrieking thing that sounds like violins gone horribly wrong. It's interesting, I'll give it that. And I do actually feel better, oddly enough.
I was able to rally enough last night to go to Flips with Jin for a pizza and a bottle of wine. She takes good care of me, my friend Jin. All my friends do. I know I keep saying it, but I don't know what I'd do without you guys. This has probably been the best thing to come out of my whole divorce debacle... learning the value of my friends.
Yesterday afternoon was gorgeous. The temperature was, amazingly, over 70 degrees. I knew a cold front was coming in today, so I drove up to Martin Park on the north side of the city and just walked the trails for an hour.
I find such enormous peace in the woods. I love the silence and the smell of the leaves and the earth. In North Carolina, the forest was my medicine. I lived just 20 yards or so from the edge of the woods, and I loved to step into that forest and feel the world drop away. The forest is its own time and place. Things happen more slowly there. I loved knowing that whatever was happening in my day, whatever busy-ness and hustle, my forest was there waiting for me, exactly as I'd left it. Like a place out of time.
Martin Park is perhaps not so well separated from the workaday world, surrounded as it is on all sides by the growing northern suburb of Oklahoma City, but it is a well-kept refuge, and large enough that the highway noise is only a distant buzz. It has a nice combination of field and forest; stream and pond. I spent half an hour in a gazebo on the meadow trail, writing in my journal and listening to the long grass rustling against itself like a constant "ssshhhh".
My heart was heavy yesterday. Maybe from being sick, maybe from recognizing a neediness in myself I knew can not be fulfilled right now. But my spirit was low. I walked the trails as quietly as possible, watching for birds and squirrels. A rather unseasonal orange and black butterly came and fluttered around my hair once. It was a nice gesture, I thought. Cheered me up, but I was worried about it. What the heck is it doing here at this time of year??
In walking and being quiet I thought of something.
I thought that when I realized I no longer wanted Gray back, no longer loved him as I had, I would be free of grief and pain from the divorce. I wanted that change of heart to make everything okay. But it didn't. The trauma I went through during the separation in September, October and November not only changed my feelings, but damaged me. Not wanting Gray back makes it easier to move forward, but does not in itself heal the hurt of what happened. I'm still damaged and lost, even if I don't want to go back to where I was before.
So I walked. And I breathed in the air, and watched the birds, and I gave myself permission to be sad, damaged and lost. For awhile, anyway. It's okay for me to be hurt. It doesn't mean I want Gray back. It doesn't mean I won't get better or that I'm not moving on. It's okay for me to be lost. I was on a path I felt sure of. I knew where I was going, I knew what to expect from the future. And now I've been lifted off that path and dropped into unknown territory. I have to either find or make a new path. And for awhile, I will not know for sure which way to go. It's okay to be lost. Lost is probably good right now. None of it means I'm not strong enough – which I am – or that I want Gray back as my partner – which I don't.
When I came home I felt a little less sad, but a lot less distressed about being sad.
The big carp were still active. I was a bit surprised. I expected them to be snoozing at the bottom of the river. But there they all were, schooling about under the bridge as usual. I don't know how that river sustains so many huge fish. Most of them are over 3 feet long. If the weather is warm enough on Sunday, I'll go back with some dog food and feed them.
I was able to rally enough last night to go to Flips with Jin for a pizza and a bottle of wine. She takes good care of me, my friend Jin. All my friends do. I know I keep saying it, but I don't know what I'd do without you guys. This has probably been the best thing to come out of my whole divorce debacle... learning the value of my friends.
Yesterday afternoon was gorgeous. The temperature was, amazingly, over 70 degrees. I knew a cold front was coming in today, so I drove up to Martin Park on the north side of the city and just walked the trails for an hour.
I find such enormous peace in the woods. I love the silence and the smell of the leaves and the earth. In North Carolina, the forest was my medicine. I lived just 20 yards or so from the edge of the woods, and I loved to step into that forest and feel the world drop away. The forest is its own time and place. Things happen more slowly there. I loved knowing that whatever was happening in my day, whatever busy-ness and hustle, my forest was there waiting for me, exactly as I'd left it. Like a place out of time.
Martin Park is perhaps not so well separated from the workaday world, surrounded as it is on all sides by the growing northern suburb of Oklahoma City, but it is a well-kept refuge, and large enough that the highway noise is only a distant buzz. It has a nice combination of field and forest; stream and pond. I spent half an hour in a gazebo on the meadow trail, writing in my journal and listening to the long grass rustling against itself like a constant "ssshhhh".
My heart was heavy yesterday. Maybe from being sick, maybe from recognizing a neediness in myself I knew can not be fulfilled right now. But my spirit was low. I walked the trails as quietly as possible, watching for birds and squirrels. A rather unseasonal orange and black butterly came and fluttered around my hair once. It was a nice gesture, I thought. Cheered me up, but I was worried about it. What the heck is it doing here at this time of year??
In walking and being quiet I thought of something.
I thought that when I realized I no longer wanted Gray back, no longer loved him as I had, I would be free of grief and pain from the divorce. I wanted that change of heart to make everything okay. But it didn't. The trauma I went through during the separation in September, October and November not only changed my feelings, but damaged me. Not wanting Gray back makes it easier to move forward, but does not in itself heal the hurt of what happened. I'm still damaged and lost, even if I don't want to go back to where I was before.
So I walked. And I breathed in the air, and watched the birds, and I gave myself permission to be sad, damaged and lost. For awhile, anyway. It's okay for me to be hurt. It doesn't mean I want Gray back. It doesn't mean I won't get better or that I'm not moving on. It's okay for me to be lost. I was on a path I felt sure of. I knew where I was going, I knew what to expect from the future. And now I've been lifted off that path and dropped into unknown territory. I have to either find or make a new path. And for awhile, I will not know for sure which way to go. It's okay to be lost. Lost is probably good right now. None of it means I'm not strong enough – which I am – or that I want Gray back as my partner – which I don't.
When I came home I felt a little less sad, but a lot less distressed about being sad.
The big carp were still active. I was a bit surprised. I expected them to be snoozing at the bottom of the river. But there they all were, schooling about under the bridge as usual. I don't know how that river sustains so many huge fish. Most of them are over 3 feet long. If the weather is warm enough on Sunday, I'll go back with some dog food and feed them.
Friday, January 9, 2009
In Which I Put Myself into Time Out...sort of
Okay, the illness has made up its mind. It has decided to kick my ass.
Maybe I was just up too late last night watching (sort of) the Sooners lose the championship, followed by a long, rambling telephone conversation with my friend Jin, followed by an even longer and more rambling (and rather unfortunate) IM conversation with Biff, all of which added up to me not getting finally into bed until around 2. NOT, perhaps, the most conducive path to healing my poor battered immune system.
Gray was here for the first part of the game. I think eventually we will make good divorced parents. When we're not at each other's throats, we make comfortable friends. Or will, I believe. I hope. For Grayson's sake as much as for my own.
Last night he wanted to download a bunch of photos from my computer to use on his Match.com profile. He said it is already making him feel better to have that connection to Other Options. And I know how he feels.
I'm hoping we can get the divorce final next week. I really want to put the marriage behind me. It's good to get these loose ends wrapped up with Gray, and to be getting along okay, but it will be such a huge relief to me to have that cord cut once and for all. We'll still have the house to deal with, but we won't be married.
Being sick may put me into an involuntary Time Out this weekend. It's probably not a bad thing, though I sure wish it would be otherwise. I was supposed to have dinner with Jin tonight and see a movie with Biff tomorrow, but it may all fall through if I'm still sick. And maybe it needs to. Maybe I need some time alone. I don't want it. I don't want it at all. I'm a little scared of it, I think. I'm so afraid of that black water coming back, sweeping over my soul and sucking me down, that I crave constant distraction. But maybe I need to sit in the doorway with my metaphorical emotional rifle across my knees and see what comes out of the dark.
Maybe I need to blow away some demons. I am stronger than I think. And crutches just make you weaker.
I've been wishing for Esalen. I want to disappear into a fruity retreat where I'm away from everything and everyone. I won't get it, of course. I'm waaaay too poor right now for any such luxury.
I'm bummed about being sick because this is the first week I had begun to feel actually functional and focused at work. It felt good to be able to get my mind off of my personal life long enough to be good at what I do again. I have not been, for so long.
I had a talk with Jin this morning about men and women. I told her I wished I was more like her, how she gets her emotional support and strength from the women in her life, whereas I have always so relied upon the men. She told me "Oh god, yeah. They're not even people, really." And she was completely serious. It's funny but it shows how very different we are. I am learning to have faith in my women friends. But it does not, somehow, come naturally for me. I've always related better to men.
But that can become so complicated. For me, anyway. Jin asked me why I'm not dating a bunch of different people - why just Biff. She's worried that I'll put too much meaning into it, get too attached, get too needy ... which no doubt I already have. (reference aforesaid late night IM conversation). I told her I'm a confirmed serial monogamist. "It's just the way I am," I told her. She said "you can change the way you are."
Can you? I dunno. I think you can change. But can you change yourself? Would I want to?
What I want, I realize, is to feel secure. I'm casting about for some sense of stability. Which is patently absurd in my situation, of course. I'm a walking case of instability. Not that I'm emotionally unstable, I mean. But my situation is in flux. Everything is shifting, almost daily. So I try to get Biff to offer some security. Which he can't. won't. whatever. And I can't seem to take Maybe as an answer. The whole freakin' world is Maybe. But from him, because I'm a repeat offender in the serial monogamist racket, I can't stand it.
I have to learn to live in Maybe. Nothing ... NOTHING is sure. Death and taxes notwithstanding, Everything is Maybe. I cannot create for myself a false enclave of surety in a world of Maybe. I just have to get out there and accept the uncertainty.
Very buddhist, if you think about it. Be Here Now. That, my friends, is what I strive for. To just Be
Here
Now.
And let that be enough. God, what I wouldn't give for that peace of mind. Now. and now. and Now.
Maybe I was just up too late last night watching (sort of) the Sooners lose the championship, followed by a long, rambling telephone conversation with my friend Jin, followed by an even longer and more rambling (and rather unfortunate) IM conversation with Biff, all of which added up to me not getting finally into bed until around 2. NOT, perhaps, the most conducive path to healing my poor battered immune system.
Gray was here for the first part of the game. I think eventually we will make good divorced parents. When we're not at each other's throats, we make comfortable friends. Or will, I believe. I hope. For Grayson's sake as much as for my own.
Last night he wanted to download a bunch of photos from my computer to use on his Match.com profile. He said it is already making him feel better to have that connection to Other Options. And I know how he feels.
I'm hoping we can get the divorce final next week. I really want to put the marriage behind me. It's good to get these loose ends wrapped up with Gray, and to be getting along okay, but it will be such a huge relief to me to have that cord cut once and for all. We'll still have the house to deal with, but we won't be married.
Being sick may put me into an involuntary Time Out this weekend. It's probably not a bad thing, though I sure wish it would be otherwise. I was supposed to have dinner with Jin tonight and see a movie with Biff tomorrow, but it may all fall through if I'm still sick. And maybe it needs to. Maybe I need some time alone. I don't want it. I don't want it at all. I'm a little scared of it, I think. I'm so afraid of that black water coming back, sweeping over my soul and sucking me down, that I crave constant distraction. But maybe I need to sit in the doorway with my metaphorical emotional rifle across my knees and see what comes out of the dark.
Maybe I need to blow away some demons. I am stronger than I think. And crutches just make you weaker.
I've been wishing for Esalen. I want to disappear into a fruity retreat where I'm away from everything and everyone. I won't get it, of course. I'm waaaay too poor right now for any such luxury.
I'm bummed about being sick because this is the first week I had begun to feel actually functional and focused at work. It felt good to be able to get my mind off of my personal life long enough to be good at what I do again. I have not been, for so long.
I had a talk with Jin this morning about men and women. I told her I wished I was more like her, how she gets her emotional support and strength from the women in her life, whereas I have always so relied upon the men. She told me "Oh god, yeah. They're not even people, really." And she was completely serious. It's funny but it shows how very different we are. I am learning to have faith in my women friends. But it does not, somehow, come naturally for me. I've always related better to men.
But that can become so complicated. For me, anyway. Jin asked me why I'm not dating a bunch of different people - why just Biff. She's worried that I'll put too much meaning into it, get too attached, get too needy ... which no doubt I already have. (reference aforesaid late night IM conversation). I told her I'm a confirmed serial monogamist. "It's just the way I am," I told her. She said "you can change the way you are."
Can you? I dunno. I think you can change. But can you change yourself? Would I want to?
What I want, I realize, is to feel secure. I'm casting about for some sense of stability. Which is patently absurd in my situation, of course. I'm a walking case of instability. Not that I'm emotionally unstable, I mean. But my situation is in flux. Everything is shifting, almost daily. So I try to get Biff to offer some security. Which he can't. won't. whatever. And I can't seem to take Maybe as an answer. The whole freakin' world is Maybe. But from him, because I'm a repeat offender in the serial monogamist racket, I can't stand it.
I have to learn to live in Maybe. Nothing ... NOTHING is sure. Death and taxes notwithstanding, Everything is Maybe. I cannot create for myself a false enclave of surety in a world of Maybe. I just have to get out there and accept the uncertainty.
Very buddhist, if you think about it. Be Here Now. That, my friends, is what I strive for. To just Be
Here
Now.
And let that be enough. God, what I wouldn't give for that peace of mind. Now. and now. and Now.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Under the Weather
I've come down with one of those undecided illnesses. It's like a cat trying to decide if it's coming in or going out or just standing there looking or sniffing your shoe. It's neither bad enough to keep me at home nor mild enough for me to completely ignore. In short, it sucks.
It has manifested itself in the form of a sore throat and that feeling of having your head in a jar. So I'm just slightly out of synch with the world. My reactions are a bit....
delayed.
Tonight I plan on plugging my kid into the television and lounging on the sofa reading. I'd love to start reading my 700+ page book for my book club, but I haven't received it yet! I ordered it weeks ago from my Book of the Month Club.
Of all the books to get here late.... the ginormous one with a deadline.
It has manifested itself in the form of a sore throat and that feeling of having your head in a jar. So I'm just slightly out of synch with the world. My reactions are a bit....
delayed.
Tonight I plan on plugging my kid into the television and lounging on the sofa reading. I'd love to start reading my 700+ page book for my book club, but I haven't received it yet! I ordered it weeks ago from my Book of the Month Club.
Of all the books to get here late.... the ginormous one with a deadline.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Shoot me
So I had my photo shoot today for the Single in the City feature in Oklahoma Magazine. Yesterday at lunch I went to Dillards and "bought" (read: "borrowed") a $118 little stretchy black wrap dress for the "dressy" photo. I took it back after work today. Cute dress. But I needed that $118!!
The shoot was uneventful. They did a couple of group shots of mixed guys and girls, then a really awkward individual shot where they had someone chat you up while they shoot, so they can get more "animated" photos.
Which means I'll look like a complete dork. I do that weird thing with my lips when I talk, I always hate seeing myself on video or in "candid" shots where I'm talking. Weird lips.
At least my dress looked good.
Gray told me during our big two-hour phone fight last night that he considered the singles story to be in poor taste. "Tacky," was what he called it. And "embarassing" to him that it would happen so soon after we split up. He called it an "I'll show you" move on my part.
As it was. So he got one thing right.
Yes, we had a long nasty fight on the phone yesterday. About EVERYTHING, but first about money. Sad how so much keeps coming down to money. I won't go into the sordid details, but we did reach an understanding. We look at this period as checking things off the list, wrapping up loose ends. Little by little I hope we can both get our grievances off our chests and those loose ends neatly wrapped up and cauterized so we an get on to the rest of our lives.
It does feel like cauterization. Searing and hot and painful. But it stops the bleeding, and hopefuly will keep the old wounds and bitternesses from opening up again and inviting infection.
Meanwhile, I'm coming down with something of a cold. Sore throat today, and headache. Blah. So unfun.
The shoot was uneventful. They did a couple of group shots of mixed guys and girls, then a really awkward individual shot where they had someone chat you up while they shoot, so they can get more "animated" photos.
Which means I'll look like a complete dork. I do that weird thing with my lips when I talk, I always hate seeing myself on video or in "candid" shots where I'm talking. Weird lips.
At least my dress looked good.
Gray told me during our big two-hour phone fight last night that he considered the singles story to be in poor taste. "Tacky," was what he called it. And "embarassing" to him that it would happen so soon after we split up. He called it an "I'll show you" move on my part.
As it was. So he got one thing right.
Yes, we had a long nasty fight on the phone yesterday. About EVERYTHING, but first about money. Sad how so much keeps coming down to money. I won't go into the sordid details, but we did reach an understanding. We look at this period as checking things off the list, wrapping up loose ends. Little by little I hope we can both get our grievances off our chests and those loose ends neatly wrapped up and cauterized so we an get on to the rest of our lives.
It does feel like cauterization. Searing and hot and painful. But it stops the bleeding, and hopefuly will keep the old wounds and bitternesses from opening up again and inviting infection.
Meanwhile, I'm coming down with something of a cold. Sore throat today, and headache. Blah. So unfun.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Safeguards
Greetings, friends.
So, those who now have access to Scrawlspace will notice that I've moved it and limited its availability to invitees only.
The reason is that I'm feeling a little concerned about the access Gray has had to my life, so I'm making changes and shutting some doors and windows to help protect my space and privacy. I'm limiting access to the blog, changing passwords, locks, etc. Recent events have led me to believe that I need to draw some clear lines of demarcation, and that I can no longer be sure I know what he will do or say.
Gray came home early on Friday from his Magical Mystery Tour and came straight here from the airport to ask me to take him back. I told him I didn't know if I wanted him back. He pressed his case, but I told him I needed time. Today I let him know that I am not coming back. I did it as gently as possible, just explained that what has happened between us has changed the way I feel about him and what I want for my future. I want to move forward now, not back. I'm going on with the divorce, and as quickly as possible.
He seemed to take it well, at first. But then he opened his mouth and some nasty things came out. Instantly I realized what a great decision I had made. The scales have been falling from my eyes these days. Honestly, I don't know how I stayed married to him for as long as I did. I just couldn't see him for what he is. Not only do I no longer love him, it's all I can do to keep from hating him.
I'm hoping that maybe if I can move up the finalization date on the divorce, cut down on interactions and get our lives separated as much as possible, maybe that will help end the drama. Selling the house of course would be the best cure, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just want to put the whole grisly mess behind me, get my feet back on the ground and start blazing a new trail.
Godspeed, John Glenn.
So, those who now have access to Scrawlspace will notice that I've moved it and limited its availability to invitees only.
The reason is that I'm feeling a little concerned about the access Gray has had to my life, so I'm making changes and shutting some doors and windows to help protect my space and privacy. I'm limiting access to the blog, changing passwords, locks, etc. Recent events have led me to believe that I need to draw some clear lines of demarcation, and that I can no longer be sure I know what he will do or say.
Gray came home early on Friday from his Magical Mystery Tour and came straight here from the airport to ask me to take him back. I told him I didn't know if I wanted him back. He pressed his case, but I told him I needed time. Today I let him know that I am not coming back. I did it as gently as possible, just explained that what has happened between us has changed the way I feel about him and what I want for my future. I want to move forward now, not back. I'm going on with the divorce, and as quickly as possible.
He seemed to take it well, at first. But then he opened his mouth and some nasty things came out. Instantly I realized what a great decision I had made. The scales have been falling from my eyes these days. Honestly, I don't know how I stayed married to him for as long as I did. I just couldn't see him for what he is. Not only do I no longer love him, it's all I can do to keep from hating him.
I'm hoping that maybe if I can move up the finalization date on the divorce, cut down on interactions and get our lives separated as much as possible, maybe that will help end the drama. Selling the house of course would be the best cure, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just want to put the whole grisly mess behind me, get my feet back on the ground and start blazing a new trail.
Godspeed, John Glenn.
Friday, January 2, 2009
A Brave New Year
Happy New Year.
I spent all day on New Year's Day lounging on the sofa, reading, and practicing my guitar. I'm not really as awful with it as you might expect. I've been learning new chords from online charts, and looking up easy song tabs to try out. I still can't change chords without piecing them together finger by finger, but there are several I now remember, at least.
I love my sexy black guitar.
So, the washing machine was out all week. I called on Saturday, then again on Monday. Finally on New Year's Eve the guy came out to take a look at it. I explained that it doesn't turn on. You pull the switch. Nothin'. So he tried it. Sure enough, nothin'. He tried it again. Nothin'. Again. Nothin'. Again again again again again, really fast.
Damned if the thing didn't come on.
He kind of smiled at me, shrugged, and split. So now I have been slogging through a week's worth of laundry. My life is so exciting.
I got an email yesterday from the folks at Oklahoma Magazine. They've scheduled the photo shoot for "Single in the City" for Tuesday. That's fine. Here's the catch: I have to dress MYSELF. Yes, here I was being confident that they would dress me, but Nooooooo. I am expected to come up with my own Look. And to make things worse, I have a color scheme to adhere to. Black, gray, brown and.... green.
GREEN???
Are you shitting me? I don't think I even own anything green. Now I'm beginning to hyperventilate about the whole thing. I'm expected to bring two outfits: One casual going-out outfit, and one dressed-up going-out outfit. Here's another kicker... All my fancy dress clothes are in storage. I'm hoping and praying my friend Jin can dress me. She at least has taste.
New Year's Eve was low-key. Biff, as I mentioned, went MIA, so I called my old friend Chris Freihofer and begged for an invite to his annual New Year's get-together. There were seven of us who got together for dinner at Misal and then hung out drinking and talking at Chris and Beth's until midnight. I was back at my folks' house at 12:20.
So here we are in a new year, trailing clouds of glory from all the drama of the last one. I know that this year ahead will take me to a whole new place. Possibly one I cannot even imagine at this point. I have one goal: get comfortable in my own skin. Right now I am so uncertain and screwed up that everything messes with me. I overthink everything and second guess myself and misconstrue situations and conversations. I'm a ball of doubt.
So that's my goal. Make peace with myself. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, I'm thin and pretty enough. And by gosh, people like me.
Surely. Someone.
I spent all day on New Year's Day lounging on the sofa, reading, and practicing my guitar. I'm not really as awful with it as you might expect. I've been learning new chords from online charts, and looking up easy song tabs to try out. I still can't change chords without piecing them together finger by finger, but there are several I now remember, at least.
I love my sexy black guitar.
So, the washing machine was out all week. I called on Saturday, then again on Monday. Finally on New Year's Eve the guy came out to take a look at it. I explained that it doesn't turn on. You pull the switch. Nothin'. So he tried it. Sure enough, nothin'. He tried it again. Nothin'. Again. Nothin'. Again again again again again, really fast.
Damned if the thing didn't come on.
He kind of smiled at me, shrugged, and split. So now I have been slogging through a week's worth of laundry. My life is so exciting.
I got an email yesterday from the folks at Oklahoma Magazine. They've scheduled the photo shoot for "Single in the City" for Tuesday. That's fine. Here's the catch: I have to dress MYSELF. Yes, here I was being confident that they would dress me, but Nooooooo. I am expected to come up with my own Look. And to make things worse, I have a color scheme to adhere to. Black, gray, brown and.... green.
GREEN???
Are you shitting me? I don't think I even own anything green. Now I'm beginning to hyperventilate about the whole thing. I'm expected to bring two outfits: One casual going-out outfit, and one dressed-up going-out outfit. Here's another kicker... All my fancy dress clothes are in storage. I'm hoping and praying my friend Jin can dress me. She at least has taste.
New Year's Eve was low-key. Biff, as I mentioned, went MIA, so I called my old friend Chris Freihofer and begged for an invite to his annual New Year's get-together. There were seven of us who got together for dinner at Misal and then hung out drinking and talking at Chris and Beth's until midnight. I was back at my folks' house at 12:20.
So here we are in a new year, trailing clouds of glory from all the drama of the last one. I know that this year ahead will take me to a whole new place. Possibly one I cannot even imagine at this point. I have one goal: get comfortable in my own skin. Right now I am so uncertain and screwed up that everything messes with me. I overthink everything and second guess myself and misconstrue situations and conversations. I'm a ball of doubt.
So that's my goal. Make peace with myself. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, I'm thin and pretty enough. And by gosh, people like me.
Surely. Someone.
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