It Happens, Sometimes

Today, I stepped in dog shit, which I haven't done in a really long time. I hate it. I mean, who enjoys it, really, but considering we have two dogs and a fenced-in backyard, I am considered a High Risk for stepping in dog shit. It's a miracle I went as long as I did. I'm usually very careful, but there's all these leaves, and pine straw, and dried-out grass, and it's really hard to tell where the lawn ends and the shit begins. I was trying to clean it up with the scooper, so K.Lo and I could play in a larger area, but honestly, the amount of shit was just overwhelming, and so I stopped. Anyway, my biggest problem with stepping in dog shit is that it is so difficult to clean off the bottoms of one's shoes. I mean, do they put bubble gum in the dog food? Why is it so sticky? I was going to let the shit dry out in the sun so I could bang most of it off and move on with my life, but then the sky darkened and it looked like rain, and so I brought the sneakers in to clean off in the sink. I had to use a sponge, and a bamboo skewer. Probably I could have looked for an old sponge, but the kitchen sponge was right in front of me, so I used that. Don't worry, I threw it out. And even though I am fairly frugal, and that's a big waste of a sponge, I do shop at Costco for kitchen sponges, and I figure it was better to waste one of them rather than a pair of shoes. I'm glad they didn't have a deeper tread.

In other shit-related news, we bought a new baby swing today for N.Lo, and he blew out his diaper within 10 minutes of sitting in it. So I had to clean shit out of a baby swing today, too. And also off of N.Lo, who has a talent for filling diapers with copious amounts of the stuff. We don't even bother with wipes, he just goes right into the sink for a bath. Which can sometimes be difficult to manage, setting up the bath and stripping the child of clothes and messy diaper, all one-handed.

Other than that, it was a pretty good day! I'd tell you what I ate, but it doesn't seem appropriate in this context. At least I didn't have any run-ins with attack geese, which by the way, also have giant, unsightly shit.

Overdose

The things I've been watching lately besides Weeds, SixFeetUnder, and stupid movies like Eagle vs. Shark is- I've been watching Jane Austen. It started innocently with the Masterpiece Theatre retinue of all Austen sundays. Which started with a charming and achingly lovely Persuasion, followed by less apt and too brief Mansfield Park, Northanger, the Firth version of Pride/Prejudice which I love the brooding Firth but Elizabeth? ehh, and of course the Thompson version of Sense/Sensibility (which I watched on AMC or something). Emma might be coming up next after the 2nd part of P/P tomorrow night... then of course maybe 6months before all of this was that silly movie called "The Jane Austen BookClub" and I hit it on the head then, how terrible all these couples coming together when in fact Jane was stricken in all her books of unrequiet. But then I thought maybe that's my issue... And then the BBC biopic of Jane Austens life which I thought heartaching and played well by Olivia Williams and to complete the cressendo Becoming Jane which was too long and lacking even if Anne Hathaway is idyllic. The whole time I'm thinking, oh, god but I know this one doesn't end happily! I don't know why the fuck all these movies have banned together to attack us now. It's a deluge. Surely there are other female authors we could learn about, come to celebrate?

That's hardly the problem though. I'm twitching with it. Why I've drawn them all into my circumfrence? God, I have no idea. It didn't finally hit me until watching Becoming Jane tonight. I had to remove the '95 v. of Persuasion from my cue. It's those fucking happy endings in all her books. The actual real brilliantly tangible unrequitted love that all her heroines suffer with. And then couple that with the actual facts about her life- marry Becoming Jane with the Austen Bio pic and we've got her 17-41... and she dies alone and by all biopic accounts though gutsy, independent and funny and sarcastic, even though she never traveled or saw anything of the world- she also dies sort of tortured and poor and hello ALONE, even if not full of regret and man. Fuck. And then her sister torches her letters. And each of these movies has just left me with a twinge of there is no happy ending and what we, I love about the books is the possibility of all well that ends well, and then yet no. You see that was her hope and love also as a writer- and it didn't happen. How can her books not echo both courses in her life. And maybe that's the disease of it. This indulgence in happily ever after, when in reality if we could face singleness here and now, today- it certainly isn't so life and death, even if it may or may not have been then- and might we, I face it better if we, I didn't have these books and things and movies to tell us otherwise. That to end up alone as the credits close is sad, so of course the more satisfying course is the wedding. Wouldn't we all pen it so?

Jumping back on

the blogwagon is hard.

ack!

Okay, so per my New Year's resolution, I do plan on having a large yard sale this year. I'm thinking late March, early April, I haven't really decided yet. The accumulation of crap for this yard sale is tucked in every spare corner of the guest bedroom and the laundry room, and also the shed. It's starting to make me tweaky, and I need to organize it better. I really just want it all gone. Last night, I had this random inspiration that I should just take the big bags of clothes I have and donate them. It's kind of a pain to sell clothes at a yard sale, to organize them and price them out and all, find a way to display them, etc. So I decide to take care of this, pronto, and last night I load up the three large, heavy trash bags into the car for this morning's errand run. In an even bigger flash of inspiration, I remember the clothes recycle bins that sit in the far, far corner of the Target parking lot. I don't know much about them--does anyone know where these clothes go? I probably should have looked into this further, but frankly these days, I don't have time to mess around. I figure whether they're actually donated to a good cause of shreded into bits and literally recycled, it's not a bad thing. The most appealing part of using the bins is convenience; not only are they right by Target, but I don't have to talk to anyone. Just drive up, drop off, and go. Leave the kids in the car. No dirty looks and bullshit, like they tend to give you at the ILM GCF.

The bins look harmless enough, just two giant blue metal boxes with pretty large openings. One bin's opening was larger than the other, and in fact it was kind of bent up, like someone had been extremely determined to cram something in there. I take the heaviest bag first and drop it into the bin with the bent-up opening, because I don't think it will fit in the other one. So I drop in the bag, and someone speaks. A man, with a deep voice, says OUCH!

OMG!

There's someone in the bin! Sleeping? Homeless? Unfortunate frat boy? I mean, on a cold day, if there's nowhere else in the world for you to go for a nap, I would imagine a bin full of clothes wouldn't be a bad idea. Except that people do deposit there. And I had just done so, with a really heavy bag. My adrenaline kicked right in, not knowing what the hell might happen next. What if he started throwing shoes at me? Or even just shouting more at me. I'd probably pee my pants. I ran and grabbed the other two bags, managed to shove them in the other bin with the smaller opening, got in the car and booked it to Target. Laughing a little hysterically, of course. What would you have done?

House Haze

So I was in an illogoical dark place for most of the day. A little too cold to work in the yard, nothing more to throw away or sort or organize, only a few more candles to burn. I did. Nothing to watch. That didn't stop me. The book we're writing didn't make sense, the words actually I couldn't even comprehend. There was lots of staring involved and muttering pointlessness and feeling bad about neglecting fiction. So then sometime around 4 of literally a day come and gone, I jumped up to go workout. I made my way to 24f and things seemed to make sense there. I read my book. I pedaled and ellipticaled, took a long hot shower and then came back to the house. All re-energized and ...

Why didn't I start my day this way? Can I have a do over? Even now I can feel the room sucking me back into an impenetrable fortress of gloom. Where the lists won't get done. Where the lists in fact become unimportant. And I spend much too much time staring out the window watching the mocking bird collect nest materials and the grass grow. And all the time in the world seems to be an insignificant thing. Or that it means too much, or not enough but either way I can't decide and I feel bad about both. Having it. Not having it. Too desireous to be productive but utterly unmotivated and feeling ruined and wasted as each day goes by and not capitilizing on the good fortune I find myself in. Not living mylife, spending too much time looking at it. When I need to start taking delight in things like the Millard Filmore soap commerical, or the scent of Fressia flowers in the morning, or the strike being over or the titillating end of Weeds:II, or my awesome car, or my awesomely organized room. And that it's okay to let go and watch the clouds. It's not a waste of time. Just-let-it-go. Let the breeze take you. For now.

move on, pen

I have plenty to blog about, but seem to be stuck in this inertia of trying to get whatever I need to be "settled," settled, before I do anything else. Except that it's never going to happen, so I just need to accept the fact and move on. There's a baby and a little person, and they're messy and they cry a lot. I need to clean them up and address whatever it is they need and not feel like it's a boulder I'm trying to climb out from under. I need to make lists and check items off the lists if that's what will keep me on track. Or forget lists, maybe I need a day, or every day, where I jump from life topic to life topic and just do what I can, start what I can, finish what I can. And hopefully not feel too scattered. Or maybe I just need to embrace "scattered."

Must: answer so many emails, read and comment on blogs, either clean up the dust in the cabinets, or forget about the dust in the cabinets until the kitchen's all done. Read my book, sort through pictures, catch up on magazines. Continue quest to watch one Gilmore a day. Exercise, maybe. Get in a shower. Say no to some things and yes to others. Reschedule appointments when the time alone stresses me out. Breathe a little. Change the channel. Focus on the moment rather than what's ahead.

Today I: got my haircut but haven't even looked in the mirror yet, not really. Took half a nap with K.Lo. Possibly resolved an irritating seller issue on ebay. Read through m's (exciting) first draft. Went to make potato soup and discovered I am lacking ingredients. Made pancakes and sausage for dinner instead. Thought maybe I should vacuum but didn't. Thought maybe the fish tank walls should be cleaned, but I didn't do that either. Received the new printer, but it's still sitting in the box. Revised a gift plan. Shut down my CafePress store because I can tell it's not going to work out. Fed the children. Diapered the children, made K.Lo sit on the potty a few times. Wondered when m might come to visit. Intended to look up skybus tickets, but haven't yet. Folded the world's most ginormous pile of laundry, ran another batch. Started reading EW. Ate some M&Ms. How anyone could see this day as unproductive, I don't know.

move on, m

Today I: am a small tin of slightly used lipbalm that has been dropped in a field recently, just slightly to the left of the path, in a mix of green and dry grass. A lady bug is crawling over the letter A.

Besides that- I totally have nothing to blog about. Like at all. I mean my keyboard letters are still worn away even though i've tried: white out, sharpie and silver permanent marker. Goodbye dear: E, A, S, I, O, L, M, N. Runners up are: K, D. But otherwise not a lot going on. I've hit on one of those strides where I'm tired of the things that are going on in my mind, so I'd rather ignore them. Clearly, the splinter I accidentally shoved into my nail bed is important or the fact that I looked really cute at church yesterday, but still, what my mind keeps playing over and over is: must escape country, must transfer balances, get shots for international travel, must escape country, look for job, don't look for job, find no jobs, get excited about the prospect of looking for jobs and finding jobs, find nothing, regret the need to work, regret the fact that i'm regretting the need to work, think about things to do in the yard, find things to throw away, burn more candles, eat right, go have a snack, go workout, study french, watch tv instead, make more lists, repeat process, think about friends and how they bug me, think about friends and how they make me happy, have a slice of crumbcake, eat orange, watch tv. Repeat process. Vow to stop thinking. Go work on blog book.

progress

Contrary to all appearances, we have not gone mad over here at the Lo. household. Over the next few weeks, all kitchen cabinets will be refaced, the countertops and backsplash will be tiled, and the Lo. kitchen will become a whole new world. We owe it all to my parents (who made and painted the cabinet doors and will help install the tile), and our tax refund. So far: top cabinet doors ripped down, crown molding and cornice ripped down, horrible buzzy florescent light taken down, old crappy range hood taken down, cabinet trim sanded, fine layer of dust everywhere, cabinet trim painted, new cabinet doors installed, rad new pendant light installed, sparkly new range hood installed. Oh, and cleanup. I'm still working on that.

Minuit Thoughts

1. I feel unemployable, right at this moment. There isn't a job I've searched on the boards that I've felt qualified for, enthusiastic about or slightly envious over. Surely there must be something.
2. My skin is dry.
3. I found another thing to give away.
4. I flossed.
5. Melting chocolate in hottea is great.
6. Rain is wonderful.
7. Stop me from things I don't need.
8. Things I want to start: Read the Bible in chronological order (for kicks). Why it is not already in order I don't know. Study for French II. Sell R2D2. Shots for International travel. Check thyroid. Transfer balances. Go to zoo.
9. My hair in curls with nowhere to go.

huh!

Considering what a wasteland TV is these days, J.Lo and I were especially excited for this new season of Survivor, Fans vs. Favorites. I kind of love the premise, for as much as it rips off the RW/RR Challenge's Fresh Meat. Ten fans vs. ten favorites, which, let's be honest, aren't really favorites. I mean, some of them are great, including JAMES and Yau-Man, and maybe even Ozzy if we're feeling charitable. But they were kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel with some of the others, maybe it's just me.

Jonny Fairplay is on this season as well, except that he's not anymore, because he was already voted out. I'm so disappointed. I most looked forward to seeing what sort of shit he'd stir up, and also his interactions with Jeff during challenges and tribal council. Maybe Jeff has some level of affection for JF by now, but mostly, I think he hates him. And I love that he hates him. My favorite part of tonight's episode was at the beginning, when JF acknowledged that he was trying to dress like Jeff (awesome), and Jeff snarked back how he understands that Jonny would want to win some money and (burn) move on from his current life situation. Which is that...

JF is reproducing. Or has already reproduced. No wait, it gets better!! ANTM fans, note! He is having or has already had a baby with Michelle from Cycle 3! Flesh-eaten Michelle! It's craziness! Although they do both have an affinity for wrestling, so maybe it's not that much of a stretch.

Anyway, Jonny, in his "my teeth aren't really fixed yet from my recent body-slam incident with Danny Bonaduce" glory, played the "I'm worried about my unborn child" card. Except it wasn't really clear whether he was playing the card to throw certain alliances for a loop and get someone else voted out, or if he was being genuine and really wanted to leave the game. I think probably he himself didn't know until he actually got voted out, and then he decided to go with genuine. Whatever. Who can really get an accurate read of JF. I just hope the rest of the season will be interesting, which it seems to have much potential for, with all these weird love connections heating up.

Will Amanda and Ozzy be the next Amber and Boston Rob? Or what about Parvati and James. Is James just having a good time, because seriously, Parvati seems like a bit of a flake for him to seriously consider her. And who will cram their foot further down their throat, Eliza, or that crazy new lady with the pigtails. So many pressing issues, so few episodes to address them.