Help Not Hinder

It occured to me sometime last week in a haze of wellbeing and harmony that when i am at work with my family i feel ...

... at peace. 'the hell.

we're making a stepping stone pathway... which has been taken on in distracted ill-timed spurts. the path reaches the back porch of the garage but should continue around it and behind. thus the reason that we're still working on it. (and if truth be told we want these stones to take over the patio too. so who can say when 'finished' is finished.) as i scooped the concrete into the teardrop molds, my mother mashing it in and my father smoothing it out... it seemed natural, somewhat comforting: befuddling that it felt nostolgic. an easy unionized routine to fall into. this is my job, this is yours- we are working to the task together.

i paused to wipe cement mixer spatter off my cheek when it occured to me- i've been programmed to be productive. weekend after weekend, all my life of nothing but projects. clearing property, hauling yards and yards of rot, lumber, cleaning out houses, hauling lumber, constructing things, crawling around cars, pushing them this way and that, stacking parts, turning the dirt, planting, painting, spackling, hammering... project after project. i feel completely compelled to put aside my painting, my reading for the purpose of renovation. true it has my own artistic hand in what i do but it's like getting back to the word: labor.

and how much it's become a part of me, and how much i find an intrinsic value in the work of my hands with my family. rather sentimentally laboring together for something beautiful, purposeful- something: done. no matter how strenuous or grit inducing i feel filled. it's when we're at our best, fulfilling a function and a role, unconfused, communicative and inspired. when i can appreciate my father's skill, my mothers mind...

and well anyway there's a certain obligation that comes to it too, which is why with chagrin i was helping to chop wood this weekend: unload from f150, parents go get wood chopper, help shlepp logs onto splitter, stack high, clear space in backyard for the winters fuel, decide to reoraganize- get rid of tool shed, make frame for wood to sit in, clean clean clean, finally by myself haul all the wood into the back, stack stack stack... stand back with satisfaction, think: beautiful. think: well done... though as the following shows... i've never been grossed out by wood before.. but as my friend sarah says we may have accidentally chopped up an Ent... brings a whole new term to "living things"... the sap was as red as blood (repellent and inspiring) and it will burn hot, go up into smoke, return from whence it came... and my whole body is sore and tired, and the work, never done- makes me wonder when there will be a time when i will have someone to labor with- hand to foot, minds clear and quiet, raising life or making it better. possibly? bcs my parents will vanish and i feel the hint of them not being there with me, side by side working in familiar unison for all of my life and it makes me ache to know it will leave me.

scattered

For the moment I've given up trying to hook up my (cooler, sans cookie issues) computer to the wireless network, because the problem looms large, and I don't know how much longer it will take to solve. I can't strap mendacious with the hassle of posting my posts forever. I'm scattered and only have some random things to offer at the moment:

1) Last night I updated my ipod and wanted to listen to Lily Allen before bed. Here I am in a fairly quiet bedroom, earbuds in place, half asleep anyway, and the thing starts up at volume: MAX. Literally, I felt like I was going to puke for a good half hour from the jolt of it. It was a scary loud, a complete accident that rocked me down to my tippy toes. I couldn't listen to Lily right away, my senses being so assaulted, and so opted for Sarah Harmer instead. Was disappointed to discover that I accidentally did not load her first album onto pod, despite intentions.

2) Went on a brief road trip this weekend to RDU, and on Saturday had lovely night to myself at surprise party for friend. Party truly was surprise, as his bday was two months prior, but it was pulled off so well. After a mid-party lull, we played a round of Cranium, which my team totally rocked, as well as Imaginiff. I heart party games.

3) I'm still pregnant. I know! I already can't wear jeans because it feels like I'm squishing the baby. Okay, the baby is smaller than a pencil eraser at this point, and it's not like my jeans don't actually fit, but there's some squishing going on. It's absurd. And if it turns out to be twins... mendacious will hear my gasp clear across the country. Because then we will have to purchase a minivan, a cruel reality I am not at present prepared to face.


4) I want to talk about Grey's Anatomy with anyone who will talk about it with me. And also, Friday Night Lights. Anyone who claims TV is a cesspool for society has not watched (and subsequently become addicted to) these brilliant productions. Currently, am sort of in love with Kyle Chandler and his irritated silences, his piercing gaze. Bonus, he was on BOTH shows last week. Here's why I love Grey's: unlike most shows, when a character throws out a declarative statement such as, "George, your marriage is a mistake," the statement is not necessarily prophetic and then fact. Characters fight back against the so-called "truth," i.e. Callie tells Izzy, "Actually, no, I'm here to stay, so get used to that." And Friday Night Lights? You so do not have to be a fan of football. The acting, writing, and camera work on this show all speaks for itself. So FANTASTIC.

5. Finally, finally watched Jesus Camp yesterday. It was one of those movies I lusted after in the Netflix queue for so long, and once it finally got here, I had no desire to watch a documentary. What I really want to watch is Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, even though I didn't really like it the first time around. But, Jesus is going back today. It scared me, just like I thought it would. Frankly, on the whole I felt like there was a little something missing from the production, like maybe a little more framework would have been nice, or some added points of view? But the camp director properly horrified me with the statement that Harry Potter, had he been in the Bible, would have been put to death. Because Warlocks are the Devil. I think she's in cahoots with Voldemort, I really do.

This week: still on a closet-cleaning tear. Hope to: clean fridge, dust here and there, purchase brilliant presents for March birthdays (not including my own), figure out the beaded bracelets, spend minimal amounts of money, not totally give up on working out. Tamilee, you continue to slay me. And, ANTM is starting, wahoo!

dear blog,

hi, i'm cool. i had a good weekend...i think? watched science of sleep, step into liqued... completely stepped off the exercise and eating right bandwagon... said, fuck it, and i'll see you next week. tomorrow. goes perfectly with shaving and showering... folding laundry like i did just now: (tired of moving the piles from the bed to the floor and back again) doesn't so much go with watching little miss and eating pizza- on my 4th dietcoke of the day- hauled firewood, and leveled dirt, got tired and stared into space, hummingbirds zooming past, patches of blue sky disappearing fast, and the wind picked up and it got cold to contemplate wearing a hat, or going inside and calling it quits. (rhett just said he didn't give a damn and scarlet said there was always tomorrow.) john lee says he's in the mood for love and so am i. trying to find away out of scraping pennies and bad papercuts liqued bandaid won't fix. and taxes... maybe get myself a refund if i could, ever, check, them, off, my, list: whalewatching, clean artroom, buy a volleyball net... i've got the ball and everything and just need people to play... uh, huh... and unfinished... unfinished... we're those weekend project people... won't quit until the sun goes down or the weather turns wrong, maybe just this once, quit, cuz you feel tired... and say there is always tomorrow.

What about Brian's hair, continued

Hee hee. I like to think that Barry Watson read my letter. It's not great, but it's much better. I'm taking credit.

psa: dwight k. schrute

In case you missed the commercials, or *gasp* forgot, be sure to watch SNL this Saturday, as it will be hosted by Rainn Wilson, aka Dwight K. Schrute. He is indeed everywhere. I personally hope for the inclusion of a digital short, and perhaps a skit with Rainn and Will Forte's character Andy, the Customer Service Rep. Ohhhhh noooooo!

tis,

a scint week for blogging... so much too say. so filled with laziness... but perhaps this weekend... dare to dream... after all it's actually blessedly friday.

irritated by:
haven't heard from 2nd interview
laundry piled up in corner
dust
canvases to be worked on
lack of quality programming

ticked

okay so this is seriously gross. i was attacked by a tick. but like i don't know when. all i know is that i brushed my left arm this AM and it was there- attached to my upper left arm. i pulled it out and killed it and could not stop saying GROSS all day. i'm saying it right now. GROSS. is all i can say. damn off trail hiking. the more disturbing is when it mightve latched onto me... i shudder to think it'd been on me all day into the morning... bcs that was the last time i went off trail... that's what i get for offtrail hiking. GROSS. when i found it i was in a conversation with my inv. manager and so grossed out was i that i could not even say a word to her, as i brushed my arm- nor anyone lest they know that i'd been infected... i possibly concluded that i will wake up tomorrow taken over. it's so so unpleasant. hopefully no redlines will spread up my arm. for fucks sake. it's so GROSS.

dear wardrobe,

It's time we have a serious chat. As you well know, we haven't been getting along for quite some time. Not that we're fighting exactly; I would just call the relationship "unharmonious." You have a few pieces that I regularly hang out with, take to lunch, and what have you. But the majority of your numbers have been on strike for awhile now. It's finally sinking in that we need to face our issues and if needed, part ways. Because... I'm thinking, now that I'm prego, it's going to be quite a long time before I can even think about trying to wear those shirts and pants that I'm still not able to wear as a result of the first go around. I feel like it's more of a shape issue, in the end--that it's not so much the weight hanging on, but that your body just forever changes shape. And I've got to stop denying...

I bought a very nice mauvey shirt yesterday at Target in the size I would have worn before, though, and it gave me great hope. It made me think that it was possibe to get along with shirts, new shirts that actually fit the right way. Shirts that are long enough, for one, and shirts that could not double as a corset. And as much as it pains me to think about saying sayonara to my red Curious George shirt of yesteryear, I'm kind of thinking that by the time, if ever, I'm the right "size" to wear it, I'm probably not going to want to anymore. First of all, at that point, it will be years old. It's already kind of ratty. Actually, I think it was kind of ratty after the first time I washed it. WHY am I feeling bad that I can't properly wear this thing? Seriously... All these shirts I'm thinking of pink-slipping are on the ratty side, no wonder they don't fit right. Dear lord. Okay, that's IT, we're cutting the cord:

Goodbye to:
red Curious George
yellow UNCW shirt with hanging threads
bright green Tinkerbell with peeling graphics
electric orange Old Navy shirt I haven't even worn since... like, I can't even remember! WHY is it still in my drawer.
John Bender shirt? okay, maybe I'll save that for K.Lo
orange camping shirt with fabric so thin it's falling apart in my hands
brick Bonnie's Snow Lodge shirt, peeling graphics
another red graphic T that was tight and uncomfortable when I bought it 4 years ago, much less after it was washed once--and the seams are totally crooked
black tank-top that always looked terrible on me anyway

And others. There will be many others. And then the pants, and the sweaters, and the long-sleeve T's and jackets. And maybe even the SHOES, just for kicks, hahaha. Look out wardrobe. Management is cracking down.

xoxo,
pen with eyes wide open, now

Warm Weather

I'm sitting at my desk, scrubs is on in the BG. I'm wearing a burgandy tank top and some basic blue underwear. I sort of like the outfit, though minimal- the colors are perfect. Like I could be in a Dove or Jockey ad. I feel good about it, with my flipflops and grungy hair done up in a band. The air is warm out- over 80, and no ones home. It's an odd sort of quiet. Like I should have a purpose or something to do. It makes me want to leave the house and go on errands- but I think maybe I'll just wander outside, look around at the flowers and come back in. Maybe distractedly pick up a book or watch the Extras Season 1 dvd. Or just stare into space and dream about organizing our junk room. Maybe I could paint. . .

Maybe that's it- it's poised and expectant. And I'm uncomfortable with the lack of definition.

Like it was a full day over. Made more stepping stones, watered plants, watched pinky/brain2, had lunch, helped friend move couch, conversed, more diet pepsi, conversed... the day is full and why ruin it with something else.

Dear Saturday Night Appletini,

Alas, but I cannot partake of you, and it is so sad, because I had such big plans. What to do without your fantastic electric green yumminess, not unlike a sour apple Jolly Rancher. Perhaps a glass of wine, a solitary beer, consumed at a slower-than-snail's pace? What a tease, what torture, to be within a good buzz's reach.

Not that I'm complaining, not really. Okay, maybe a little bit. But only because, how often do I purchase apple martini mix? Like, never. So close I was, and yet so far. See you next year, perhaps? In the meantime, there are friends, and the promise of another Bug.

Adieu for now--not quite sadly,
prego (yowza!) pen